Copyright 5 D. A J. SADLIER k CO. Mj Old and Dear Friend, LOUIS GAYLORD CLARK, m DAILY COMPANION DURING THE PROGRESS OF THIS WORK, IT IS, WITH PROPRIETY, Most Affectionately Inscribed. / PREFACE. ^ To Louis Gaylord Clark : My Dear Friend: Inasmuch as you stand responsible foi the Dedication of this book, you also must endure the Preface. You watched the growth of this volume, and the toilsome study by which it increased, and was at length finished. Therefore, I naturally say to you the one or two things that have come into my mind about it. Many will say, **What on earth is wanted of a new life of Mart, Queen of Scots?— what new thing can be said about her?" I answer, the contents of nearly hundred letters and state papers, since the discovery of which no one has written, or attempted to write about Mart, except excellent and faithful Aones Strickland, and her work is not yet complete. A Muscovite noble, of all men, the Prince Alexander Labanofp de Rostofp, has collected from royal libraries, university archives, state-paper offices, records of private families, and other sources, nearly eight hundred papers relative to, or written by, the unfortunate Princess. He has found hitherto unheard-of cotemporary memoirs and private correspon- dence, which, but for him, would still have been slumbering in tbe dust of Italian, and French, and Austrian family-record rooms. He gives in his seven splendid octavos all these papers in their originals, or in certified copies in Latin, Italian, quaint old French, and quainter old Scottish and English. To those volumes, as you know, I am chiefly iniiebted for anything new I have to say about my subject. Two other things I Jiave also endeavored to do : To show that with reference to the murder of Darnlet, and the crimes con- Pbefaoe. nected with it, of which Mart Stuart is even yet, ignorantly of maliciously, accused, she was prosecuted by her deadliest mal« enemy, Murray, before her deadliest female enemy, Elizabeth Tudor : and, although denied admittance to the presence of her }udge, although refused a sight of the criminating papers, and never confronted with her accusers or their witnesses, still she wai tried, declared by that high, inimical court spoUesdy innocent; and the absurd papers, prepared to work her ruin, were thrown out of court ! Yet, on those discarded papers, in spite of that rendered verdict, have after writers, since her death, built up new structures of calumny, which have passed, and do pasa with the world, for history. Mr. Abbot and Charles Dickens take them, and either unwilling or too idle to inquire into their truth, re-produce them for children, and prejudice their young, pure hearts against aa gentle and stainless a lady as God ever made. In his new book, Dr. DoRAN re-echoes them with his customary cold, envenomed sneer ; and even Thackeray forgets his English sense of fair play, his bravery as a man, his chivalric duty as a gentleman, and his dignity as an author and teacher, to turn himself into a literary grave-rat, and gnaw, unprovokedly, at the reputation of a Woman, dead nearly three hundred years. And again, I have sought to destroy in the ordinary reader that laziness, which so willingly receives and retains a falsehood, be- cause it would be some trouble to examine into its refutation. This idleness is the great source of the immortality of slander, th« most notable instance of which is the extensively-believed evil opinion of Mary of Scotland. How I have succeeded, the public will decide. Of your verdict, and that of many another loyal and truth-loving heart, I am already sure : and that, and my own self-approval, will be somi reward for my earnest and honest labor. CONTENTS^ Book I. L Thb Poor Max'b Kino •••••• 18 n. Mart ov LoRBADn •••••• 20 III. BouoH Wooing ••••••• 80 lY. Maidenhood • • 86 y. WiFi AND Widow ••••••• 46 VI. La Bbinb Blanohb •••••• 60 yn. Farewell to Franor • • • • • .66 yin. Ck)NDinoN o? Scotland • • • • • c 77 IX. First Tear in Scotland • • • • • 87 X. Ihb Ruin o? Gordon ot Hvitlnt • • • • 108 XL Thb End of the First Period • • • • 118 Xn Second Marriaqb ••••••• 128 Xm. Murder op David Riocio • • • • • 188 XIY. Plots and Pardons •••••• 160 XY. Suffbrino and Lovb •••••• 166 Z 00KTEyT8. XVL St. Mabt'b Kiek in the Fixld* . . • 177 XVn. Was Maet an Aocompijcb of BOTHWSLLf • : 187 XVIIL SlLYSR-GASKSr LBTTEBa 200 XIX. Confession of Pabis 214 XX. Who werb the MubderebiT 219 XXL The Game Aoyanceb •••••• 289 XXII. The Last Cabd is FIated • • • • • 244 XXm. The Tbiok is Woe 256 XXrV. The Bbeakinq of the Somsa . • • . 268 « Book II. L LOOHLEVEN AND LanOSIDB 281 IL Fbom Cablisle to Bourov • • • • • 295 in. Mubbat's Confebences and his End • • • 804 IV. Eighteen Yeabs in Sootland • • • • 819 v. Mabt, the Caftitb •••••• 825 VL Counsel for Prisoner 888 YIL Mabt's Last Cbdib 858 VnL The Gband Coionssiov 865 IX. Last Wobds • • • 877 X. Beport of the Ezeodtionebs • • • • • 889 XL The Eiqbth of Fbbbuaet • • . • • 808 Apnm 401 BOOK I. Mary, the Queen. •* Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calunany." Hamlet, Act iii.. Sc. 1. Mary, Qjieen of Scots. Chapter 1. The **Poor Man's King.** Eighth in descent from the heroic Robert Bruce, James V. was as remarkable for his kingly virtues as for his stately personal beauty and elegant accomplishments. Inflexibly just and brave, he was the very soul of chivalric honor. Restraining his turbulent chiefs and nobles, he was the kind and idolized protector of the people, among whom he loved to move incognito, like a Scottish Haroun al Raschid. His mien and features are described by all as majestic and unusually beautiful ; skilled in all manly exercises, his frame was lithe and agile as that of a stag from his own wild hills ; romantic and adventurous, a poet and excellent mtisician, the best jouster in the tourney, a good harpist in H Mary, Queen of Soots. the hall, he was the beau ideal of a king and preta chevalier J even in the days when Francis I., the accom- plished and gallant knight, ruled the fair realm of France. He had lead a varied life. His gallant father fell on the terrible field of Flodden, when he was but a child, and the long regency that followed was but a struggle for th^ possession of his person. Long kept prisoner by the Douglas, his kingdom was ruled absolutely by Angus, head of a portion of that ancient and powerful House. Many attempts were made to rescue the young king by force, but all failed, and it was with only a single servant that he at last succeeded in escaping from Falkland Cas- tle, and reached his mother's Castle of Stirling, where he found safety. He now, for the first time, began to govern his own realm. Calling such of his nobles about him as were jealous of the Douglas, he, with their aid, assisted in over- throwing that family, and banished them from Scotland. Next he attacked the powerful border chiefs, and broke the strength of one of them after another. Then he turned his attention to tne fierce lords of the Highlands, and met with the same success, so that at last, he found himself indeed a king of the ancient realm of Scotland. This course was not exactly calculated to win the love of the nobles, but James was the idol of the people. He loved to go about among them unknown, calling himself the Goodman of BaUengiech, and many are the legends told The Poor Man's King. 14 him, most pleasantly to be read in good Sir Walter's " Tales of a Grandfather," or in the text and abundant notes of " The Lady of the Lake." Many and wise were the laws that he made for the punishment of crime ; the restraint of violence, the gov- ernment of his people. He first established the legal pro- fession in Scotland, setting apart learned men to be trained in the study of the laws, and styling them the College of Justice, now the Civil Supreme Court of the Kingdom, He founded a navy also, and he himself sailed round hia country, making an accurate coast survey of it. He called experienced miners from Germany, and set them to work among the Clydesdale hills, where he found both silver and gold. From the gold the famous bonnet piece was coined, which afforded him more than one opportunity of displaying regal magnificence. On one occasion, after treating the continental ambassa- dors to a hunt, and giving them only the game they had killed for dinner, he apologised for the absence of luxuries, but hoped that the fruit at dessert would recompense them The Southerns looked over the barren Cravvfordsmoor, %nd at the bleak, heathy or bare granite hills, and wondered where the fruit might grow. But the king pointed to the covered, dishes before them, and each man lifting off hig cover, saw the dish filled with bonnet pieces. Though a zealous encourager of science, art, and learning he found time enough for many a romantic 16 Mary, Queen of Scots. adveDture, not only in his own kingdom, but abroad. Fol he visited the French court with a small retinue, ana ftlmost unknown; tilting at the tournaments, dancing in tlie hall, singing his own songs in the bower, and winning first the fair Magdalene of France, and afterwards the heart and hand of Mary of Lorraine. But troublous times were at hand. Henry VITI. of England had renounced the authority of the Pope, and declared himself Head of the Church. He earnestly desired that King James should follow his example, •ffering to create him Duke of York, and give him, being Wien a widower, the hand of the Princess Mary in marriage *tut James doubted the good faith of the wife-murdering iiaonarch, and after many fruitless negotiations, refused to Bide with him : whereupon the hot-blooded, sensual Blue- t^eard declared war, and marched his troops against Scotland. At first the Scots met with success, and might have given Henry cause to repent of his rashness, but the disaffection, nay, the disloyalty of the Scottish nobles, discouraged the people, and disheartened the king. He had, in person, led his troops to Fala, on the English border, and was preparing to enter that country, when the nobles apprised him that they disapproved of the war, and that, although they were ready to obey him in defence of their own land, they would not follow him a step into the enemy's country. Only John Scott of Thirlstane offered to follow with The Poor Man s King 17 Lis spears, wheresoever their monarch chose to lead them. The king, disgusted with his unreliable lords, returned to his capital, to aieditate reprisals on the English. He soon raised a force of ten thousand men, and conferring the command upon his favorite, Oliver Sinclair, sent him to enter England. They reached the Moss of Sol way which forms part of the Border line between Scotland and Eng- land, and here the disaffection of the chiefs again broke out. They despised and disliked Sinclair, and refused to follow him. The ranks were broken; the tides of the Frith, deep and strong, began to roll swiftly shoreward. There was no array of the Scottish lines. Then five hun- dred English borderers led on by Thomas Dacre and John Musgrave, charged upon them, and the ten thousand Scots without striking a blow, fled from before the handful of Jackmen, and Sinclair and others were captured. The king's heart broke. A fierce fever took possession of him and only yielded to a settled and incurable dejec- tion. Sleepless, and sad he tossed about upon his bed, repeating constantly, "Fie! fled is Oliver! Is Oliver ta'on ?" or, he would sink into a stupor as of death, from which he would awaken to smite his breast in paroxysms of despairing pain. For a week this continued, then on the first of Decem- ber, he silently quit his capital, and attended only by Sir WDliam Kirkaldy of the Grange, retired to Hallyards in 18 Mary, Queen of Sc.ts. Pifeshire, tlie residence of that gentleman. Here ht remained sunk in mute, irreparable sorrow, and wlien the aged lady of the house would try to comfort him, he had but one reply. ^ My portion of the world is short, I shall not be with you in fifteen days." " Where will it please your Grace, to hold your Christ- mas feast ?" the servitor asked. The poor king smiled bitterly, and mournfully, "I cannot tell; choose ye the place: but this I can tell you, that ere Yule Day (Christmas,) ye will be master- less, and the realm without a king." Then back to his fever again, and his mournful reitera- tion, " Fie, fled is Oliver ! Is Oliver ta'en ?" In a few days, he retired to his palace at Falklands, and took to his bed, saying to his attendants: — " I will rise from this no more." He would see scarce any one save the oldest of bis friends, the preceptor of his infancy and his loyal servant, the poet herald, Sir David Lyndsay, of the Mount, Lord Lion King at Arms, who wrote the history of these last sad hours. Only once he sent for some of his lords spiri- tual and temporal, to confer with them about the welfare of the throne, but ere they arrived, he had sunk again into dejection. By this time, a messenger arrived from Linlith- gow palace to tell him that the queen had borne a child. Hath a man or woman been bom to me?" he asked. The Poor Man's Kino. 19 **'Ti8 ane fair daughter T was the answer "Farewell then," said he, '*to the crown of Scotland' It came with a lass;* it will pass away with a lass." And so," says Sir David Lyndsay, " he commended himself to Almighty God, and turned his back to his lords and his face to the wall." His speech did not return, but they saw, by his demeanor, that he was perfectly conscious, and in his right mind. So, silently, the end drew on. The clouds of death were gathering o'er his eyes ; the pulses of that proud but bro- ken heart were beating feebly; the high chivalric soul was ready for its flight, when he turned towards his nobles, looked at them kindly and smiled. And then he kissed h\s hand in token of farewell, and extended it to receive the last act of homage that they should pay him forever. *'Tliis done," says Lyndsay, **he held up his hands to God, and yielded up his spirit." Thus died James Stuart V. of Scotland, in the prime of iife, his thirty-first year, December 13, 1542. There was great "moan and dole," throughout the realm, for the people dearly loved him on whom they had conferred the sacred title of " The Poor Man's King." On the infant forehead of Mary, last queen of Scotland, fell the mournful shadows of her father's death. *The lass by whom the crown of Scotland came to the Stuarts, was Margery truce, daughter of the heroic King Robert, and wife of the ancestor of Jameii Walter, Hi^ St award of Scotland. Chapter II Mary of Lorraine. A UVEAL descendant of Charlemagne, daughter of Charles, Due de Guise and Antoinette de Bourbon Ven- dome ; widow of Due de Longueville, first, and now of James V,, King of Scotland, Mary of Lorraine, at the ftge of thirty-six, found herself Regent of that ancient kingdom as representative of her infant, Queen Mary, When James began to recover from the grief which the loss of his " sweet transplanted lily Magdalen," caused him, his thoughts reverted to a lady who, next to his choice, had pleased him at the court of Francis L Magdalen, the dar- ling daughter of Francis, had blessed her husband and hii people for only forty days ; then she drooped and died, July 10, 1537. The king's thoughts naturally reverted to France, and ijomewhat lovingly to Mary of Lorraine, who had become % widow about a month before the death of Magdalen, They had seen and knowr each other, when James wa« Mary of Lorraixe. 21 wooing his fair bride in France, and doubtless she remem bered the handsome Scottish kniglit, " first lance in the tourney, lightest foot in the dance." In a word, she waa promised to the royal Scot. But, that excellent Henry the Eighth had just got rid of his queen, Jane Seymour, and proposed to marry Madame de Longueville himself. He was told that she was betrothed, but it took some time to convince him that betrothal was an obstacle to his desires, since he had not yet found even marriage to interfere with them. Francis I., however, made it clearly comprehensible to him that Mary of Lorraine, was to marry none other than James; and to his next proposal, that a bevy of princely French ladies should be sent to Calais or Bou- logne for Bluebeard to choose from, the French monarch returned a rebuke, polite but stern, for the exceeding inde- licacy of the request. Still Henry persisted. He made a proposal in form, to the lady herself, and was refused. He disregarded all the suggestions of the king of France, as to the proper princess to address, and continued to importune him for the hand of Mary. Francis ofiered his own daughter, who was peevishly rejected as too young ; then Mary's sister, who was also rejected ; then Mademoiselle de Vendome, hvL Henry " would have none of the king of Scotland's refus- ings," and so he was obliged to get along as well as h« scold with the help of Anne of Cleves, Katherine Howard, 22 Maky, Queen of Scots. and Katharine Parr, while Mary of Lorraine bocanae the wife of the chivalric and woman-honoring king of Scots. The queen, landed in Scotland on June 12, 1538, and sent word to her august husband that she wanted liia instructions as to her future course. That gentleman did not stop to converse with the courier, but ordering hia lords to follow him, leaped upon his horse, galloped off to Balcomie to welcome his bride, and there being joined by all the peers, spiritual and temporal, conducted her in triumph to St. Andrew's. There the keys of Scotland were delivered to her by " a fair lady most like an angel, in sign and token that all the hearts of Scotland were open to receive her Grace f and there she was " instructed to serve her God, and obey her husband, according to God's wiU and commandments." Then followed the wedding, in the magnificent cathedral of St. Andrew's, soon after reformed, and not now existing Bave as a shapeless mass of ruins, and the widowed duch- ess of Longueville, Mary de Lorraine, was queen of Scot- land. Hawking, archery, hunting, tournament, and ball, welcomed the lady to her throne. The king was twenty- eight years of age, and the handsomest cavalier in Christen- dom ; she an eminently, stately young widow of twenty- four. Two clouds, one fall of the angry hate, so often disappointed, of England, and the other grim with the civil and religious storm so soon to burst upon the unfon tunate realm of Scotland, hovered o'er that nuptial feast Mary of Lorraine. 23 We roust pass by Mary's life with brief notice, that w« nay come at once to her daughter, ** rhat sonbeam, strayed from fairy climes, to fade upon a thxciic** James loved his queen passionately and she loved him. Her initials, M. R., surmounted by the fieur-de-lys^ were sculptured upon all his palaces; the royal account books exhibit a mass of rich dresses, jewelry, and costly coffers obtained for her; and she was attended and courted by the royal gentleman, her husband, as devotedly as when he first wooed her by letter, at her cousin's and adopted father's court. In the May of the next year. Queen Mary bore a prince, And great were the rejoicings therefor. Next year another Aon, but both blossoms faded while their mother's bosom was still their shelter, and Scotland had yet no heir born of her darling king. The mother's heart was stronger and braver than the fathers under these domestic inflictions, and she comforted him with hope ; " they were both young," and that God would bless them with more oflfspring, so they only were loyal to Him." There came, in the end, one more, but only when the broken heart of the splendid, people-loving king was beat- ing its way slowly through arctic ice-fields of death, on into the unknown seas, thence to return never more. Mary, Queen of Scots, was born in the Palace of lAvc lithgow, not very far from Edinlurg, on the 'yth of Decem- ber, 1542. 21 Mary, Queen of Scots. Her f;ither never saw her, nor she him, and already became the object of contending ambitious rivalries and hates, which were to pursue her remorselessly to tli« melancholy end. But that will be seen in its place. Enough just now that the sweet heather bloom of cur hills and moorlands is born; born amid sighs and wild exultant huzzas, beneath the tears of a realm, and the sunshine of momentary popular pleasure. From the tall cataract-guttered hills, where sleeps the eternal snow, white, cold, and silent; from the purple moorland where the bee hums in the summer, and the stately ptarmigan and black cock lurk and brood; from the glen, upon whose side the ten-tined stag feeds with uplifted ears ; from the still lo h, silver or black, or " burnished sheet of living gold," as God's shadow, or sun or moonlight chanced to fall, upon it ; from the rough river, where golden salmon leap against the rapids ; from clusters of larch and fir trees stirred by the northern breeze, came the full sough of pain and joy. Solwav is lost, but Scotland hath an heir. The grim border baron heard it in his fortress, and if his name were Maitland, or Douglas, it "garrt him grue" with pain. The wild chief of the sounding Hebrides, Rosshire and the hazel and juniper gorges of the mainland heard it ; and their hearts grew bigger as they felt more and more Scottish forever. Grim Henry, the Bluebeard, heard it, and began to dream of alliance with Scotland, but he Maky of Lorraine. 25 being now some fifty yeai-s of age, and the young heiress only seven days, he nobly resolved to make her not his seventh queen, but the wife of his son. Prince Edward. Across the water, in the Gallic land, Lorraine and Guise, and Marie de Medicis heard and began already to plot and ftcheme about the unconscious baby, asleep upon her mother's bosom by the shadowy tarn of Linlithgow. There let her rest until her fortune begins to separate from those of the queen mother, the " old queen," as Henry tiie Eighth called her, when in her twenty -eighth year. Mary of Lorraine gained no new power by her husband's death, but indeed was obliged to shut herself and infant U}) in the old castle, lest the child should be taken from her, whilst the stormy strife for the Regency went on. Cardinal Beton claimed it by virtue of the king's last wishes ; James Hamilton, Earl of Arran, claimed it as next heir to the throne ; and before the mother had left her bed, he called upon her to propose a future marriage between his son, then seven years old, and the infant queen. Beton, it will be remembered, was conquered, and Arran was declared Regent, or Lord Governor of Scotland, a post iihich he held for some years, first as leader of the Reform- ers, and afterwards by consent of the Catholic party. King James had been carried from Falkland to Edin- burgh and was there laid beside his beloved Magdalen, in Holy rood. Uoon his death ensued a peace with England, 26 Mary, Quesn of Scots. the relations of which kingdom with that of Scotland rausl be briefly stated here. Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, had long been ai xile in England. A great many other gentlemen ha«i been taken prisoners at the disastrous battle of Solwr^y Moss, among them the Earls of Cassilis and Glencairn, and the Lords Gray, Maxwell, Oliphant, Fleming, and Summer ville, all peers of Scotland. At first, Henry treated these persons with contumely, but when newer schemes had developed themselves in his mind, he changed his conduct, and became kind to them. So soon as he proposed that the young queen should be betrothed to his son, he, with characteristic modesty, demanded that immediate possession of her person should be given up, and that her education should be carried on at his court. This refused, he resolved to obtain the child by Korce, and to aid in his design, he purchased the seven ^ase men and disloyal gentlemen whose names are written above. They were richly pensioned, and permitted to return to Scotland after they had pledged themselves that they would make the uxoricide governor of Scotland, admit English garrisons into the principal Scottish fortresses and deliver the person of their infant sovereign into Henry'e hands. Failing in this, they were to return to captivity in England. In addition to this, Henry sent to the Scottish coart an especial minister Sir Ralph Saddler, half resident arabasaa^ MaitT of Lorraine. 27 ior, half spy, with instructions to use his utmost exeniona to lender the mind of the Queen Mother and the nation favourable to his views, and with a full purse for such " itching palms" as were -vllling to barter honor tor money. The first, of course, failed. Mary of Lorraine was pre- pared to exhibit the courage of the lionesa, or to learn and practise the wily wisdom of the serpent; to employ the powers of her naturally strong and well cultivated mind, or use the coquetry of a beautiful woman ; to do anything, in short, rather than let her innocent and darling child fall into the hands stained crimson with the blood of Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard. Ilie purse was, how- ever, more sucjcessful, and Sir Ralph Saddler was enabled to buy up eveiy traitor in Scotland. Saddler, however, learned from the popular sentiment, how useless his attempts must prove. When pressing the adoption of his views upon Sir Adam Otterbourne, that statesman asked him shrewdly : " If your lad were a lass, and our lass a lad, would you then be so earnest in the matter? and could you be cou- tont that our lad should be king of England ?" Saddler, who, of course, had no fear of a hypothesia, answered affirmatively, but Sir Adam said stoutly : Well, if you had the lass and we the lad, we could be well content with it ; but I cannot believe that your nation oould agree to have a Scot to be king of England ; and 1 28 Mary, Queen of bcoT«. Assure you that our nation, being a stout nation, will nevei agree to have an Englishman king of Scotland ; and though the whole nobility of the realm would consent to it, yet our common people and the stones in the streets would rise and rebel against it" So Saddler eased his mind by speaking of the people as proud and beggarly Scots." The Queen Mother was aware of all these manoeuvres, and saw her imminent peril. Neither could she trust the Lord-Governor Arran. since he was next heir to the throne, and not of a character to make a proper guardian for the royal child. The Reformation too was making rapid, and ijo her, hostile advances, and she had no resource to look to but Cardinal Beton, head of the loyal party, and France, her native country. But the first correspondence with the French court was discovered, and Beton was arrested and imprisoned. Eight guardian lords were appointed for the child, but the queen mother kept her always with herself. Henry, at length tired of waiting, issued a peremptory crder to separate the mother and child, and the danger of the queen mother increased, shut up as she was, almost powerless, in Linlithgow. But there was help at hand. When the need was the sorest. Earls Lenox and Bothwell, with other gentlemen, pronounced in her favor, called tpoil and turn upside down the Cardinal's (Beton's) towr of St. Andrew's as the upper stone may he the nether^ and w< RouG H Wooing. 31 me stick stand by the other^ sparing no creature alive within the same,^^ Edinburgh after a well defended three days' siege, was taken on the 6th of May, 1544, and in two days after was plundered and laid in ashes. The Abbey and Palace of Holyrood were destroyed ; the new torab of brave King James defaced : Leith and all surrounding towns and villages destroyed, and thousands of fanailies cast homeless and penniless ojt upon the world. At the same time another army, under Sir Ralph Ewers andSir'Krian Latoun, were devastating the border. In one of their forays two hundred fortified places were destroyed. In another, seven monasteries, sixteen castles, five market towns, and two hundred and forty villages, were laid low Neither abbey, nor mill, nor hospital, was spared. Even beautiful Melrose was destroyed ; its tombs were rifled, and its walls riven open. This was too much even for the traitor Douglas. Ilg might be false to his country ; he might sell his queen, but he still had family pride, and some reverence for the tombs of his ancestors. He instantly declared against Henry, and hearing that that monarch had given the lands fie had caused to be devastated to the knights above-men- tioned^ he cried out, " By St. Bride, T will write the instrument of possession m blood-red-ink, and with sharp pens, upon their bodies I" And he kept his word. 82 Mart, Queen of Scots. The Scots were fierct;ly aroused. Factions were lecon- ciled, and feuds were healed. The Queen Mother and Arran renewed their old relationship of amity. Even Henry'a friendf could not endure such ferocities. " I like," said one noble, I like the marriage well enough ; but I like not the manner of the wooing." Angus and Sir Walter Scott of Buccleugh, commanded the host that was soon accumulated, and on the 27th ol February, 1545, they met the iLi^oHsh troops at Ancrum Moor, and in one hour defeated them, though numbering five to one, slaying eighteen hundred men, and both their generals. Lord Angus had kept his word, and written with " sharp pens and blood-red ink " the title deeds of Henry's gift. But dissensions were soon renewed among the Scots lords; the Catholics and the Reformers had broken out Into civil war, and wero killing one another, and burning and destroying churches and monasteries; and Cardinal Beton, the Queen Mother's strongest friend, was murdered in his palace at St. Andrew's. In the meantime, Henry VHI. of England was ca.leo away to "give an account of the deeds done \n the body." What reward he got afitjr that accounting, it ia not our business to suggest. Somerset, Lord Protector of England, resolved in all things to carry out his master's plans, and redemanded the young Queen of Scots. Being refused, he once more KOUGH WOOINO. S8 declared war, and raarched an array of eiorhteen thousand men to Pinkie Cleugh, near Edinburg:, and near the sea. But this is not a history of Scotland, and, therefore, suffice it to say, that the Scots were totally routed, after a hard fought battle. They accused the English of making more use of gold in the Scots' camp, than of weapons in their own* ** It was your gold and our traitors wanne The field of Pinkie, and noe Englishmanne/* It was the last great defeat the Scots ever received from the English, and was fought on the 10th of Sept., 1547. It is an odd fact in the history of national warfare, that during all the long centuries of conflict between these twa kingdoms, although Scotland sustained several defeats^ England never won the slightest solid advantage from hei victories. This was the case now ; their defeat merely exasperated the Scots, and increased their hate for their powerful neighbors. They threw themselves into the arms of France, asked aid from Henrv 11. of that realm, and proposed the hand of their young queen in marriage to the Dauphin Francis. Entreaty nor force could win them to ntrust hex to the English court for education, yet they offered, unasked, to send her into France. The proposition was hailed with delight. Henry sent over five thousand men to the help of his ancient allies, ftnd an abundant escort to bring the young queen back. She had been sent, before the battle of Pinkie, foi 34 Mary, Q. u e e ^ of Scots. •afet} off to a wild highland glen, where, on an island called Inchmahone, In Loch Monteith, under the shadow of Ben I^omoLd, she and her four Maries, waited until the storm had passed, guarded by Highland hearts and Highland •nns, that English gold could neither buy nor paralyze. Now she was sent for, and with her attendants, came to meet her mother and her new French friends at the mouth of the Clyde, on the "castled crag" of Dunbarton. There was a beautiful widowed queen, still young; there were ladies fair and noble, and stalwart, tartanned mountain chiefs, plaided and bonnetted ; and powerful lowland lords, and gallant gentlemen from beautiful France, but the fairest sight of all was that of the five lovely children, each in her fifth year, Mary Stuart the Queen, Mary Beton, Mary Seton, Mary Fleming, and Mary Livingston. Thev had been her playmates from birth almost, and were nov to follow her and her fortunes into France. It was a sad parting, doubtless ; but that was the coursb that matters were to take, and so, with tears and hopeful prayers those five young Soots girls, bade farewell to home. The date was August 7th, 1548. Of Mary of Lorraine's feelings, let a woman judge- that brave and excellent historian, Mrs. Agnes Strickland " More than ten years had passed away since Mary of Lorraine had seen her first born son, and now she had deprived herself of her last treasure, the sweet babe ly Bough Wooing. S5 whose smiles, she had found an endearing solace for all bei other bereavements. The pangs which wrung her heart, may be imagined when her exciting part in the drams had been performed, and she stood on that rocky promon tory, surrounded by flattering courtiers, and all the proud externals of royal splendor, but in childless loneliness^, watching the receding galleys that were swiftly bearing her beautiful and beloved little Mary, from her longing eyes.** For Mary was beautiful as well as beloved. An actor in that parting scene, M. Beaugue, writes thus : — '^ The young queen was, at that time, one of the most perfect creatures the God of nature ever formed, for that her eqnal was nowhere to be found, nor had the world mother child of her fortunes and hopes/' Chapter IV* Maidenhood. Tan feifcylora of France was no ordinary school under ihe leign of Henry II. and his queen, Catherine de Medicis. Th girl of seventeen. As for Francis, she was his kingdom and leave him free to woi-ship her, he cared little hew mat ters went. But the thwarted Catherine soon learned tc hate both her son and her daughter-in-law ; and when the day of her power returned, was not slow to use it vin- dictively. In the meantime the Scottish Parliament had granted the crown matrimonial to the husband of their queen, and they reigned under the titles of both realms. The solemn coronation of the dauphin was celebrated at Rheims, in September, 1559, Mary looking on as a witness simpiy, ai her present dignity forbade her to receive the French Wife and Widow. S8 vrowD, which, in accordance with the Salic law, was con' ferred merely as a favor by the husband The continued infirmities of Francis kept them moving about the country from one royal residence to another, and as his incapacity for government threw all the influ ence into the hands of the Guises, the breach between them and the queen-mother was irremediably widened. Closely did that lady lie in wait for her daughter-in-law, but she could find no fault in her; no point that she might openly blame. She therefore joined the conspiracy formed for the over throw and death of the Guises, the imprisonment of the young sovereign, and the securing of the government to the Prince of Condd. In this were implicated the king of Navarre, the Admiral Coligni, the Constable Montmorenci, and others; but they were betrayed by the Huguenot lawyer Avenelles, deserted by Catherine, and the youth- ful king and queen were obliged to witness the bloodshed and horror that followed the discovery. George Buchannan was implicated in this plot, and sentenced to death, but, with great diflSculty, his mistress managed to save him. His style of gratitude is a matter of history, to be read by-and-by. This marriage year of Mary's was a year of much sor- row and bereavement to her. Her father-in-law had fallen by the lance of Montgomery ; she had innocently acquired the hatred of the queen-mother ; she wai B4 Mary, Queen or Scots. watched by the spies, and pui-sued by the implacable enmity of Elizabeth ; the troubles in her own kingdom, to be reviewed hereafter, had advanced so far that the Protes- tant* had asked aid from England against their own country, and a force of six thousand Englishmen had inarched to Edinburgh, Bravely and long had Mary of Lorraine struggled to maintain her daughter's ancient kingdom in loyalty and harmony. Had any one been able to do it, she had suc- ceeded. " 7oT no princess," says Robertson, " ever pos- sessed quaUties more capable of rendering her adminis^ tration illustrious, or the kindom happy. She was of much decern men t, and no less address ; of great intre- pidity and equal prudence ; gentle and humane, without weakness ; zealous for her religion without bigotry ; a lover of justice without rigor." Yet all this did not avail to avert the fatal hour from Scotland, and when at length the English troops appeared, her high spirit broke and was resigned piously unto Him who gave it. She died in June, 1560, leaving to her darling child one of the most mournful inheritances that princess or peasant ever received. On the morning of the fatal tournament, a lady of the court had described a dream, from which she had suffered the preceding night. " She had seen," she said, " the king fall," and added, " that a splinter from Montgomery's lance had etn ck the dauphin on the ear and stretched Wife and Widow. 55 him dead.'' It seemed like a prophetic vision ; for now, December, 1560, he was attacked with an abscess in the ear, and an acute inflammation of the brain. Tenderly did his young queen watch and nurse him, but be sank gradually until ^he 5th of December, when ha yielded to his disease. When the last offices were ad mi- nistered to him, the feeble boy king asked for absolution " for all the wicked deeds that had been done in his name by his ministers of state,'* and when the religious duties of the solemn hour were over, he appeared to have no earthly ^-hought but for the pale, fair girl who sate by his pillow weeping. Earnestly he conjured his mother to be kind to '«er, to love her as a daughter : as earnestly he asked hia isirothers to promise that she should be a beloved sister to tiiem; and so, in his 17th year of life, in the I7th month of his reign, Francis II. died. With his death the Guises fell, and Catherine de Medic is was once more Regent and Mistress of France, and pre- pared to avenge upon the Queen of Scots whatever slights fihe had borne during that short sad reign. Mary was now an orphan and a widow : her protector, Henry II. was dead ; her uncles fallen ; her royal mother In-law and cousin her implacable enemies; her birth realm torn by conflicting parties; she herself a poor, young, friend- less queen. "She was," says the English spy. Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, "a heavy and dolorous wife, as of good tight she had reason to be, who by long watching with him 56 Mary, Queen of Scots. through his rineteen days' sickness, and by painful dili gence about hira, but especially the issue thereof, is not in the best time of her body." So writes Throckmorton to he: foe Elizabeth. "Take care of her for my sake," plead the dying king. "0 Francis," exclaimed Charles IX., looking at her portrait, " happy brother ! Though your life and reign were so short, you were to be envied in this, that you were the possessor of that angel and the object of her love." John Knox, recording the death of Francis, speaks of him simply as " the husband of our Jezebel." Mary has recorded somewhat of her own feeling of bereavement in a letter to the king of Spain, and in the verses that close this chapter. " You have consoled," she writes to Philip II., " by your letters, the most afflicted poor woman under heaven, God having deprived me of all I loved and held most dear on earth, and left me no other comfort save that of seeing others deplore his loss, and my too great misfortune. God will assist me, if it pleases Him to bear what comes from Him with patience, for without His aid, I confess I should find so great a calamity too heavy for my strength and little virtue.^ And these are the widow's verses : — The Yoice of my sad song W!th movrnful sweetness guldei Wife a.nd Widow My piercing eye along The track that death divides ; Mid sharp and bitter sighs, My youth^s bright morning dies! Can greater woes employ The scourge of ruthless fate f Can any hope, when joy Forsakes my high estate ? My eye and heart behold The shroud their love enfold. O'er my life's early spring, And o'er its opening bloom, My deadly sorrows fling The darkness of the tomb. My star of Hope is set In yearning and regret. That which once made me gay Is hateful in ray sight; The brightest smiles of day To me is darkest night ; Ko keener pangs contend Than mine their stings to bleod. On memory's steadfast throM One image ever reigns. Whose outward name alone My garb of woe maintains. And violets paint my cheek With hues that lovers seek. 3* Mart, Queen oh 8got9. I find on earth no rest, Unwonted source of griel^ Yet changes may be bleat, If they can bring relief. The world, whatever my fiite. Alike is desolate When to the distant skiea I raise my tearful sight, The sweetness of his eyes Beams from the cloudy height. Or from the clear, deep wave, He smiles as from the grave. When day's long toil i i o'er. And dreams steal round my oOimIl I hear that voice once more, I thrill to that dear touch. In labor and repose, My soul his presence knowi. No other object seems, Lovely though it mhy bCj What my sight worthy deemii For others or for me. My heart shall ne'er o'ertbrow The summit of love's woe. My Bong, these murmurs cease With which thou hast compUtneA Wife and Widow. 59 Thine echo shall be peace! Love, changeless and unfeigned, Shall draw no weaker breath, In parting nor in death.* Such, for her perished youth, her orphaned loneness, and her dead boy-husband, such was the lament of " Jezebel !" * I find tills translation In Mrs. Strickland*s admirable life of Mary. Tte suthor is not given. Chapter VI. La Blanche Reine. In Christendom, at this period, royal ladies wore white as mourning for forty days; and this, from head to foot,, was Mary Stuart's attire. But instead of keeping the per- fect seclusion ordered for newly widowed queens of France, she, in her frank Scottish way, went ^bout so continually among the poor, relieving and consoling them, that they all knew and idolized her, John Knox's Jezebel as she was. They found that her voice was sympathy, her touch balm, her presence relief, and they idolized, the poor people, that pale young royal girl, who was their suffering sister, yet tender friend and consoler; and to this very day, there exists among the Parisians, thoughtless as they are called, aifeo- tionate traditions of the Fleur d'Ecosse, la Reine Blanche. Bran tome, in his Vies des Femmes Illustres^ quotes one poem of many, inspired by her touching and wonderful beauty during the period of her mourning. In that gloomy mourning chamber," she passed her La Blanche Reine. iighteenth birthday, alone and secluded, in tears and in prayer; and here she would have continued in comraunion with her husband's memory had not the penalty of hei birth prevented her. How touchmg was the device and •notto upon a medal which she caused to be struck, and %hich she made constant use of at this time; the device, a shrub of liquorice, a most bitter plant whereof the root only is sweet, and the motto, Dulce meum Terra tegity Earth hides my sweetness. But she was soon taught that queens have not the privi- lege of humbler women, to bewail their dead in peaceful seclusion, but that she must find time also for the duties, however unpleasant, of her position — must come out again into the stormy world, and take part in its interests, its Vfarfares, its struggles, its pomps, and its griefs. She was obliged to receive ambassadorial visits, and was, even at this time, and until she left France, under incessant surveillance. Catherine watched her like a cat; and Sir Nicholas Throckmorton kept steadfast vigilance upon her words and even her manner, reporting faithfully to his queen. But he could only write, " She hath showed, and no continueth, that she is both of great wisdom for her years, modesty, and also of great judgment in the wise handling of herself and her matters, which, increasing in her with her years, cannot but turn to her commendation, reputation, honor, and great benefit to her and her ©ountry.** 62 Maky, Queen of Soo A package containing treasonable letters from some of her false subje<.ts, had been entrusted to a merchant named Francis Tenant ; but that loyal Scot, instead of giving it to Throckmorton and her other enemies, gave it to his \\e^^ lady and mist/ ess. And from it she in the gloom of soi« row, learned o? the baseness of many whom she trusted; of the cruel Dc;kchinations of Elizabeth, and of her own expos- ure to espic iage. Tenant is never heard of again. Aa Throckmorf n recommends him, however, to the tender mercies v^f ecil we may guess shudderingly at his fate. Alrea/'y her re-marriage was the prominent point of interest >*mong the intriguers of all parties. Elizabeth, now fii/.ing with Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who had mur- dered his wife. Amy Robsart, would have prevented any match with Mary, and desired nothing so much as tu get that unfortunate princess into her power. But Buitors for the white hand of la Blanche Reine^ were abundant. The Kings of Sweden and of Denmark and the brave young Prince of Orange entered the lists. The Prince of Spain was backed by the Guises. The Earl of Arran, for whom she had been demanded when only four years old, renewed his suit, backed by Montmorenci, and the King of Navarre, although at that very time Arran was in the pay of England, and the Protestant Monarch was plotting to divorce his own excellent wife, Jeanne D'Albret, that he might himself sue for th« band of Marjr. La Blanche Beikb. 63 The Emperor was anxious that she should wed his son the Archduke of Austria, and the Lady Margaret Lehox had sent her son, Henry, Earl of Darnley, to visit and if possible to ingratiate himself with his royal kinswonjan But all these suits were vain. Mary's sorrow for her young husband was as deep and sincere as her aflfectioD for him had been; and when the white mourning had been laid aside, after the customary period had elapsed and the ordinary black of widowhood was assumed, she wore it constantly for four years, long after her return to Scotland. From her dim chamber Mary had written to Scotland, to inform her nobles of her husband's decease, to thank those who were loyal to her, to offer full pardon to all those who had offended against her person or crown, and to express her intention of returning soon to assume the government of her realm. She was visited here by the young King Charles TX.^ who was excessively fond of her, and by all the royal family, but the resolute enmity of the Regent was manifest to her, and when the days of her mourning were accom plished, she had no desire to go to Paris, but, as Sir Jame» Melville says, " seeing her friends disgraced, and knowing herself not to be well liked, left the court, and was a sorrowful widow, at a gentleman's house, four miles from Orleans." Ber strongest desire now was to retire to Rheima, aod 64 Maby, Queen of Scots, •pend tke residue of the winter there, in the Cjuvent of St. Peter, of which her aunt, Renee de Lorraine, waa Abbess. From this, however, she was prevented by tlia Eirival of the Earl of Bedford, as especially ambassado from Elizabeth, to condole with her on her bereavement. This nobleman and Sir Nicholas Thockmorton, with whom he was instructed to act as colleague, were received by the Queen, at Fontainebleau, on the 16th of Feb- ruary, and delivered the letters and messages with which they were charged. Mary thanked her " good sister " fo'^ her kindness, and promised to reciprocate all the affec tion which that princess expressed ; she urged the necessity of amity and friendly relations, for she said, "We are both in one isle, both of one language, the nearest kins- women that each other has and both Queens." But »fli€n those replies had been received by the Englishmen, the real motive of that mission of condolence^ was expressed. Would her Majesty be pleased to ratify the Treaty of Edinburg, which had been made in July of the past year ? The religious and political condition of Scotland have Dot been touched upon as yet, from a desire to keep the personal narrative as unbroken as possible. A retro- spective chapter, giving a risumd of such matters will oe given a few pages hence. Here it is only necessary to state, that the treaty of Edinburg recognized, in th6 •tronge&t terms, the right of Elizabeth to the English La Blanche Reine. 65 throne, and bound Francis and Mary never to make use of the arms, nor to employ the titles of King and Queen of that realm. Many interviews were held and many arguments made 086 of, but the young sovereign had but one answer to give. For past acts, she said, she had been under the guidance of the king, ner husband. For present or future actions, she reminded them that she was young, alone and unadvised; that she proposed soon to return to Scotland, and that once there, she would consult with, and be guided by, her natural and feal advisers, the nobles and counsellors »f her kingdom. In vain they argued the matter with her. Mary had but one answer. It concerned her country, and the wise imen of that country must help her to decide. Alone, and in France, she would do nothing ; so she recommended herself to the amicable feelings of their queen, and dis- missed them, baffled. And this disappointment, as well aa the proof of wisdom and prudence, thus exhibited by Mary, exacerbated the already chronic malignity of Elizabeth, Chapter VII. Farewell to France. To escape frcm the constant annoyances to which sh^ was subjected, Mary at length, March 26th, set out foi Rheiras, where she was received by her grandmother find uncles. And there it required the whole influence of hei family to prevent her immuring herself absolutely in Ihe convent, from taking solemn vows, and relieving her already world-wearied heart of the heavy weight of royalty. But this was not to be. Bright, beautiful delicate lily though she were, the shadow of the cloister wall was not to shelter her; her place was on the mountain top, and in the storm; the storm that was to destroy and send her, stainless still, but broken, to the grave. She remained at Rheims but a few days, to celebrate thi» festival of Easter, and get strength from earnest prayer, and then departed for Joinville, on a visit to her grandmother, Antoinette de Bourbon. It was a sad visit, for that princess had never left oflp mourning since the death of her hus^ bani, but led the most austere life, secluded in her own Farewell to France. 67 Diack tapestried apartments. After a short delay, she Bet out for Nancy, in Lorraine, there to spend some tiim with her kinsfolk. On the road thither she met and received a deputation from Scotland, inviting her to come back to her kingdom as soon as possible. Both parties had sent delegates ; the Catholics commissioning John Lesley, Bishop of Ross, the Protestants sending her base brother, the Lord James Stuart, then Prior of St. Andrew's, afterwards the Regent Murray The former wanted her to land at Aberdeen, where ftn army of twenty thousand of her co-religionists would yeceive and welcome her; but her unwillingness to apply f»ny force in putting down the opposite party caused her to inject the offer. The Lord James promised her obedience, assured her of the willingness of all the Protestant party to return to their allegiance, and urged her to come at once to Edinburg. And at this very time, when her old affection for him had renewed itself, and she treated him with a sister's confidence and affection : at this very time he was communicating everything he could discover, and betraying all that she said to Throckmorton, the spy mbassador of Elizabeth. On her arrival at Joinville she was waited upon by everal Scottish nobles, among whom were the Earls o1 Eglinton and Both well ; the latter so fatal to her in after rears ; and who, at this time, continued in attendance upoL 68 Mary, Quee» of Scots. her for four months. The Lord James remained but a few days and then returned through England, where he met Elizabeth and revealed to her all he had learned, and laid plans with her for the future unhappiness, dethronement, and destruction of his sovereign and sister. Meantime, everybody but Mary was busily anxious about her marriage; giving her away now to one prince, again to another ; but Mary went quietly on her way to Nancy, where, at least, she was sure of sincere affection. She had been here, however, but a little while before she was attacked with a fierce tertian fever, which so seriously threatened her life that it was found necessary to send her back to Joinville, 'where she might receive the unremitting and assiduous care of her grandmother. Even at thia time it was with diflSculty that Throckmorton was pre- vented from importuning her with renewed entreaties to ratify the treaty of Edinburg. One pleasant fact relieves us for a moment from the record of her suflferings, of court intrigues, and national treacheries. During her convalescence, Mary, in her ridei about the country, observed that all the women and chil- dren were occupied in straw-plaiting, and that this poorer class was happier and more prosperous in Lorraine than elsewhere. She connected the industry with the pros- perity, and resolved to introduce it into her own kingdom. Accordingly she engaged a troup of plaiters \o go with her to Scotland, where she protected them until her power Farewell to Fkance. 69 w^s taken from her. After the accession of James VI. to the throne of England, he removed the little Lorraine colony to Bedfordshire where they prospered ; and thug for the now immense manufacture of straw hats for which >ngland is celebrated, she is indebted to the importation of these Lorrainers by Mary, Queen of Scots. The young queen did not recover until the middle of June, when she went to Paris, making a public entry into that capital, being received at the Porte St. Denis by all the princes of the blood. The wonderful respect with which she was treated in this gay court, proves as much for her dignity and stainless reputation, as the love of all the royal family but Catherine, and the almost idolatry of the people, does for her gentleness and winning kindness of disposition. Throckmorton stuck gallantly to his Edinburg treaty ; but annoy and importune as he would, he could get no more from Mary than before, except indeed expressions of hope that the queen, his mistress, would not encourage the Scots in disloyalty and disobedience to their own liege. Then he would talk of religion with her and with about the same success She promised perfect freedom of con- science to her subjects, but exacted resolutely the same for herself. " I mean,'' she said, " to constrain no one of my subjects, and I trust they will have nc support to constrain me. TO Ma.ry, Queen of Scots The relio'ion that I profess I take to be the most agree- able to God, and neither do I know, nor desire to know my other." Meantime she had sent an ambassador, M. d'Oysell, to ^inorland to notify her "good sister and cousin'' of hei intention to return to Scotland, and to ask for free passage and safe-conduct through Elizabeth's territory. This was instantly and peremptorily refused ! Poor Mary ! Invited by her loyal subjects to join them, she felt obliged to refuse them, because she would join no party as such. Invited treacherously by her brother and othe^ great nobles, whom she knew to be in the pay of England, and of three of whom, the Lord James, Lord Mor- ton, and the laird of Lethington, Randolph, Elizabeth's spy in Scotland, writes, " They wish that she may be stayed yet for a space; and were it not for their obedience sake, some of them care not if they never saw her face." Refused safe- conduct by the queen of England, and knowing that the Queen Regent of France was careless whether she evei reached her kingdom or not ; with the knowledge of the divided condition of things there, this widow of nineteen certainly found herself in no enviable plight. But she had now only one duty left in France; it was to go to Fescamp, in Normandy, there to superintend the Boleran burial of her mother. This lady's body had laii; nine months in Edinburg Castle, and nearly three at Fes Farewell to Feakce. 71 canip, and now only was it removed, v/ith fitting core menial, and laid down to its final rest in the church of Si, Peter at Rheims. Finally, in the month of July, Mary left Paris forevei^ escorted by the court as far as St. Germain en Laye, where she had first resided in France, and where she would nov have taken some repose, had not the inevitable Throclvmor- ton appeared again to attack her with his eternal treaty of Edinburg. Had she ratified that, he said, Elizabeth would have given her a safe-conduct, and entertained her right royally. Now, Mary Stuart had warm blood in her veins. If she had been patient hitherto, it was from principle, not from Ia( k of strength or fervor; and her whole stock of endurance behig exhausted, she gave her whole mind to Sir Nicholas in a discourse some quarter of an hour long. First she accuses herself of lack of dignity in asking any fa\ or from Elizabeth; then she reminds the ambassador that Henry VHI. tried unsuccessfully to catch her on her road to France ; and that by God's help, his daughter's endeavors to prevent her return would be equally fruitless. She recalls Elizabeth's expressions of amity, but suggests that that sovereign prefers cultivating friendly relations with Scottish traitors rather than with their lawful queen. " I do not," she says, " trouble Ler state, nor practise with her BubjectSv" "She says I am young; she might say I were 72 Mary, Queen of Scots. as foolish as young, were I to transact such vital business without counsel or advice." " What is the matter, T pray you, with the queen, your mistress, to make her so evil affected towards me? I never did her wrong, either in deed or speech." Then, with an argument proving the absurdity of the request that she, next in succession to the English throne, should promise never to assume its arms and style, wlien the only obstacle in her way was an unmarried woman of thirty, she dismisses the question finally. At the satne time, she gives conge to M. TEmbassadeur, with these words : " I trust the wind will be so favorable that T shall not come upon the coast of England ; but, if I do, then sir, tlie queen, your mistress, will have me in her hands to do her will of me ; and if she be so hard-hearted as to desire my end, perhaps she may do her pleasure, and make sacrifice of me. Perad venture," she adds sadly, " that casualty might be better for me than to live. In this matter God's will be done !" So Mary prepared for her journey, as also did Nicholas Throckmorton. He, good man, advised the English to be constantly on the alert, for Mary trusted no one with hei plans ; so that " if you mind to catch the Queen of Scot* land, your ships must search all and see all." The queen was so poor, that she had to borrow fot necessary expenses 100,000 crowns, and give, for the use of Farewell to France. 73 die money, a mortgage on her dowry. This obtained Bhe, attended by all who were noblest and bravest ii France, set out on her journey to Calais. Meantime, Throckmorton gave all the information about her movements that he could get to Elizabeth, and she sent out her vessels of war, with instructions to capture the Scottish Queen. Robertson suggests that her object was only to rid the sea of pirates, and gives, as proof, her own assertion to that effect. If such were the case, why was the galley in which the Earl of Eglinton and other lords were, taken and carried to England, and why was Mary's own galley chased for hours ? — and why did Throckmorton recommend vigilance, " if you expect to catch the Scottish Queen Mary had been royally received at Calais, where she waf obliged to wait five days for a favorable wind. At last, that being obtained, two great galleys were placed at her disposal, and she prepared to embark. The Duke and Duchess of Guise, and the Cardinal of Lorraine, accompa- nied her to the shore. More than a hundred gentlemen of the best blood in France, both Catholic and Huguenot bad constituted themselves her guard of honor to Scotland. And now, when, the last moment had come, and Mary saw the troops of weeping servitors around, she broke out into a passion of sobbing. Then, embracing her kinsfolk in (Silence, followed by her four Maries and her suite of nobles, she went on board hei ship. 4 74 Mary, Queen of Soots. Scarcely had she mounted the deck when an »vii omen occurred. A vessel cominor into port struck a rock and sank, and many were drowned in her sight. "Ah, my God," she exclaimed, " what a portent for our voyage ia this !'* The sails were bent, the galley slaves worked at their oars, the sea hissed round the advancing bow, but she stood motionless upon the deck, her streaming eyes fixed upon the receding shore. Adieu France !" she sobbed ! Beloved France, adieu !" And there for hours she stood. Her attendants begged her to go down into the cabin to take some repose ; to refresh herself. But no, there she remained until, to use her own words, "the darkness like a black veil, shut out the Bight of land," only repeating, " Farewell, 0 France, I shall never, never see thee more." She would not go below, but cidered a couch to made for her on deck. Then, requesting the helmsman to wake her at dawn, if land were still in sight, she lay down and sobbed herself to sleep. They made but little head- way and at daylight the sailor awakened her. She rose and turned once more toward the home of her childhood tnd youth, until its shores grew dim and faded away. ITien with one more earnest cry, "It is past! Ferewell to France, beloved land that I shall behold no more," 8h« subsided into mournful silence. Her own beautiful song of farewell is well known, yet ought to be reprinted here also. Farewell to Fra»cb. 76 Adieu, plaisant pays de P rance, Oh, ma patrie La plus cherie, Qui a nourri ma jeune enfance. Adieu, France! adieu, nos beaux jours! Le nef qui dejoint nos amours N'a eu de moi que la moitis. TJne part te reste ; elle est tieune. Je la fie A ton amitie, Pour que de I'autre il te souvienne. Once only, in the misty haze, the English cruisers caught light of her galleys and gave chase. Then she was saved by love for her gentleness. When she embarked, she looked pitifully at the poor galley slaves who were to help the progress of her vessel and bemoaned their fate. She had no power to set them free, but she did what she could ; she commiserated their forlorn condition and ordered that none of them should be struck or otherwise maltreated. And when the English vessels hove in sight, these unfortu- nate men remembered the tender pity of the beautiful young queen and bent to their oars till the galley fairly leaped over the waves. The enemy was distanced, and the coast of Scotland reached in safety. As aforemen- tioned, the other galley was captured and carried tc England. Yet for two whole days a blinding mist kept them beat- ing on and oflf the coast, not knowing where they were 76 Mart, Queen of Scots. but at length the sky grew clear, and they landed, happily in the port of Leith. Down crowded from the capital the Scots of every degree, to welcome, with or without sincerity, th^ir beauti- ful liege lady; and for that one day, at least, English intrigue and Scottish treachery had no power to annoy Ver. Even Knox has not a word to say against her, though afterwards he blamed her for the fog, which " was so thick and dark," he says, " that scarce might any man espy ano- ther the length of two pair of huttisP "That forewarn- ing," continues that gentle and saintly man, " God gave unto us; but alas! the most part were blind." And now, Mary Stuart's earlier and happier life is done, rfo far as we have the writing of it. and we have but one remark to make. Her after detractors accuse her, dunng this period, of levity, giving as their only reason, that she ived in a frivolous court and must have been so. Yet stern Catherine de Medicis, her enemy, the indefatigable spy, Throckmorton, any and all who watched her, never uttered one accusing syllable against her demeanor, while each and all have twenty times recorded her unusual gravity, dignity and wise deportment. The time has now arrived for a review of the religious, social, and political condition of Scotland ; and that grave topic once discussed, the persor.al narrative of Mary's life ihall not again be interrupted until the axe shall havnfidence, so far as to induce her to desire to give him a commission to govern the realm in her absence. The confideuce he betrayed to Queen Elizabeth : even advising her as to Mary's projects of return, and of the best means to intercept and make her prisoner. Cambden, in bis annals jvrites, " James, the bastard, having returned from France to England, gave advice underhand to intercept her, ooth for Elizabeth's security and the interest of religion."* His late life is interwoven with hers. Another leader was James Hamilton, Earl of Arran, and son of the Duke of Chatelheraut, who had been Regent for a time after Mary's birth. He was, at the same time suitor to Elizabt-th, and the Queen of Scots. James Douglas, Earl of Morton, who played fast and loose with the Congregation until he found them the stronger party, was a third. These were the chief Uj • TytlerL, 860. Condition of Scotland. 8 J (eadere. With their subordinates the reader's acquaintance will be ih ide more rapidly than admiringly. Other prin- cipal foemen of the queen were clerk?. George Buchannan, a very learn^»d man, was Latin tutor to the queen, and attended her 3uring her residenca 71 France, lauding her as an angel upon earth, praising her accomplishments and wondrous beauty, writing the most enthusiastic epithalamium on her nuptials with Francis II.* She saved his life in the blood-.bed which followed the conspiracy of Coligni, and heaped favors and benefits upon him, among others, a pensiop of 500 pounds per annum, then an enormous sum. He also will find hi* place in this record of the life, sorrows^ and death of his mistress. And last, and principally, John Kuox, the great leader and mainspnng of the Scottish Reformation, equally remarkable for his great, rough eloqn<^nce, his singularl} spiritual power and his unchecked and illimitable brutality He was ordained priest in 15t30, after having studied at the University of Glasgow. Twelve y^ars later he joined the Reformists, married, became a preacher, soon celebrated as such; and for his enthusiasm sufFipred a short con- finement in the French galleys. He was so<^n acknowledged head of the Congregation, and deserved that position by his reckless courage in the contest of that body with government. He was twice obliged to al^scond. Som^ * 8eo Appeadiz A* 84 Maby, Queen of Scot 8. time he passed in Geneva, and on his return from that celebrated seminary of the new rsligion, he became one* more the most notable of the Scottish opposition. We have already noted some of his acts with referenoi to Queen Mary, of Lorraine, and will see, in the course of the narrative, his influence in the misfortunes of her Ruflfering daughter. His love for the former may be guessed at by his notice of her illness and death : — " Within a few days after began her belly and loathsome legs to swell, and so continued until that God did execute bis judgment upon her." " She was clapped in a coflSn of lead, and kept in the castle until carried to France. God, for his mercy sake, rid us of the rest of the Guisean blood. Amen."* His indomitable, persevering and inhuman hatred for Mary, Queen of Scots, is one of the most singular idio- syncracies in history. He maligned her very birth,f asserting her to be the daughter of Cardinal Beaton. He called her, as a child, "a plague to this realm." He welcomed her arrival in Scotland with these words, " The very face of the heavens did manifestly speak what comfort was brought with her into this country, to wit, Borrow, darkness, dolor, and all impiety," and, in this spirit, he pursued her to the grave. There are but three suggestible causes for this feeling. « KetU), apud Bell, L, 49. t Chambera tL. 8L Coi^DiTioN OF Scotland 85 First, that it was from motives entirely religioui , that his intense horror of the Catholic church made him also abhor any princess or other powerful person who was an adherent of that church. Secondly, that it was a hallucination, like that of the Thugs, or of the New Haveo Wakemanites* of our own day; arising from the ardor of his most excitable mind, and the great animal heat of his blood. Or, thirdly, that it was instilled into him by his patron, Douglas of Longniddrie, in whose family he was tutor, and who was one of the most shameless of Scottish traitors and of spies in the pay of England. One of this worthy's letters is preserved in the State Paper Office, wherein he betrays, to the Lord Protector Somerset, the Regent's design to send the little queen into France, and reminds him of the promises madi^ by his grace to his (Longniddrie's) wife, saying " that no had done all in his power to serve the English cause, both during the battle of Pinkie and since, by which he had taken great skaith, and was yet without his expected reward, and hopes his grace will take such services into due consideration.'^! If this excellent man were the creator of Knox's ideaa of his sovereign, that reformer's treatment of her and his devotion to England can be accounted for thus. la the meantime, we have only to record his share in Marj\ life, for which i 3 has already answered elsewhere. « Appendix A. 2. t Mrs. StaiQkkM<^<^M^QS of Scotland, ill 25. 86 Mart, Qu££n of Sootb. Bacb slight sketch of the country's condition, thd •f the chief actors in the drama to follow, was necdsbary to show how Scotland stood when its young and widowed queen set her foot upon its shores at Leith amic ihn tomhling bieakers and the dank and eerie mists. chapter IX. First Year in Scotland, 1561. The queen landed, as we have seen, at Leitli, but so quietly had all her arrangements been made that the royal salute fired by her galleys gave the first notice of her approach. Then the people poured down from Edinburg, to greet and welcome her back to her kingdom. Holy- rood was not ready for her reception, and she, her four Maries, and her other immediate attendants, were obliged to wait in the house of one John Lambie, at Leith, until the afternoon. Then Lord James and other of the nobles came down with such material for the reception of their royal mis- tress as they could get together. Mary's fine French palfreys with their trappings, had been taken in Eglin- ton's galley, and were now in England, and nothing in horse shape appeared but the rough, uncouth ponies of Scotland Indeed, so shabby was the whole reception, 88 Mary, Queen of Scots. when compared with the splendor to which she had bwn accustomed, and so hurt did the young queen feel at th % first impressions which her gallant French attendants musk form of her realm, that her eyes filled with tears. How- ever, the procession was formed and she turned her face towards her capital. The trades, with their banners and devices, were drawn up on the roadside, and such music as Edinburg could fur- nish at the time preceded the cavalcade. Before reach- *ng the city, a body of craftsmen met her and throwing themselves at her feet, besought her pardon. It appeared from their story, that the Congregation had, at one fell swoop, abrogated their ancient sports as doings of the evil one ; a measure to which they were disinclined to suc- cumb. Accordingly, they had organized a band for tlie representation of the old play of Robin Hood, one Kellone performing the part of that knightly outlaw. But they had chosen Sunday for their celebration, for which gross profanation their sports were broken up, and poor Robin condemned to death. The crafts however, rose to protect their fellows, and the magistrates were kept at bay until the arrival of the queen, when the offenders sought and obtained her grace. The city was illumiiiated, and bonfires kindled in the itreets as Mary made her way to the palace. Here, through the livelong night, yea, for three nights, her devout lieges serenaded her with ill-played violins, thi First Year in Scotland. 89 4. 4ertainment being elegantly interspersed with nasal pi^^lmody, so that the poor lady was nearly distracted with discord and want of sleep. One of her Maries reminded her of Bishop Montliic*! advice to her in France, "Is any one merry, let hira sing psalms," and inquired if this were the style of music to which his lordship had referred. "Alas !" said the poor, tired queen, " this is no place for mirth. I can scarcely restrain my tears." That nothing mi^ht be wanting to the perfection of this concert, bag- pipes also were freely used. "-^Te.^" cries out the astounded Brantome, "Ae.^ quelit mnsique ! et quel repos pour sa nuit Fortunately, however, other chambers were got ready, and she left her rooms upon the ground floor for those still kpown by her name in Holyrood, thus getting out of hear- ing of her loyal but discordant lieges. Then the nobles came to pay their duty to her, and all were won by the grace and dignity of her manner. The black weeds of her mourninor for Francis still shrouded her beautiful form, and sadness had become an almost habitual expression of her face ; but she had been educated in the most polished court in Christendom, and knew how to con- ceal her sorrow. She soon appointed two almoners, with •nstructions to seek out the needy and relieve them ; set apart a portion of her own slender means for the education 90 Mary, Queen of Scots. of poor children, and refe'stablished and salaried the office of Advocate for the Poor. She soon proclaimed the establishment of the new reli- gion which she found in Scotland, declaring her deter- mination to punish any one who should disturb it, but claiming for herself common liberty of conscience and th« right to exercise the duties of her own creed. Alas ! she was not even to have this ; for, on the very first Sunday after her entrance into Edinburg, the Congre- gation gathered to prevent the mass which she had ordered, from being celebrated in the Chapel Royal. Patrick, Lord Lindsay, an infuriate bigot, clad in complete armor, rushed through the streets at the head of a troop of the brethren^ brandishing his sword and shouting : "The idolater priest shall die the death!" The ecclesiastic was only saved by fleeing into the queen's presence. "This is a fine commencement of what I have to expect," exclaimed the outraged and indignant sovereign. " What will be the end, I know not ; but I foresee it will be very bad." She then gave resolute command that the chapel should be instantly prepared for the sacred olBfices, and that the celebrant should be respected. But, even while the service was proceeding, the Lord James was obliged to stand at the door to keep out Lindsay and his followers ; and aftei First Teak in Scotland. &J mass, the clergy had to be escorted home by bis iwo brothers, the Lords Robert and John Stuart : and so, saya Knox, " The godly departed with great grief of heart." * This was followed by a tremendous blast against idolatry from the Reformer, which led to his famous interview with the queen — the interview in which, as Randolph writes to Cecil, " he knocked so hastily upon her heart, that he made her weep." Her principal complaints to him were, that he stirred up her subjects to rebellion ; that he had written his " Blast against the Monstrous Regiment of Women," against her ; and that he used unnecessarily rough and violent language in his sermons and discourses. He got rid of the first by declaring that the commands of God (i, e., the Congrega- tion) were superior to one's duty to any earthly ruler, and that, if the realm did not object to female rule, said he, '* I shall be as well content to live under your grace, as Paul under J^ero!^^ A modest and natural comparison ! Truly says Randolph, " She is patient, and beareth much." The " Blast," was written, he declared, not against her, but " against that wicked Jezebel (Mary) of England." Then she tried to argue a little with him, but his language, as reported in his own history of the Reformation,! was so boorish and violent, that she could only burst into teara^ and so dismiss him. The interview did good to neither, tt merely showed her more plainly her desolate condition^ • Strickland, iil, 212. t iL 288. 92 Mary, Queen of Soots. and his opinion of it is recorded by Limself. If there be not in lier a proud mind, a crafty wit, and an indurate heart against God and his truth, my judgment fails me." Meantime, the ordinary public civilities to the newly- arrived sovereign and her suite were not altogeihef neglected. At the head of the French nobles who had accompanied her was her young uncle, the Marquis d'Elboeuf, and to h-im and the others, the provost and bailies of Edinburg determined to give a banquet, which, to the horror of the ministers, they gave on Sun- day, August 31. The very magistrates were there who wanted to hang poor Kellone for profaning that holy day with his Kobin Hood. But the dinner was given and eaten ; and then Edin- burg prepared for the grand state entry of the queen into that, her capital. And the provost and bailies bedizzened themselves wi>h velvets and tafietas, and "doublets of cramosye," and " mcikle French blaber," whatever that may be, and recommended the young men to make them- selves as fine as possible, and to get up " some heau abulzi- raent of taffaty or silk," all of which was lo} ally done *'for the pleasure of their sovereign, and obtaining Her High- ness' favor.'' They chose a queej way to arrive at such a result, for after she had passed some fifty youths, disguised as blacka- moors, with chains of gold upon their limbs, she arrived at an arch, where she was presented with the keys of th« FiEST Year in Scotland. 93 city, a Bible and psalm-book, and a sliort religious dis- course from a "bonny bairn." After that, she was treated fco a pantomime* view of the punishment of idolatry, aa exemplified in the case of Korah, Dathan and Abiram. It had been intended here to burn in effigy " a priest at the moment of the Elevation,'' but the powerful Earl of Huntley prevented it. Then there were other pageants less objectionable to her and wine ran from the fountain at the city cross ; and further on, were " ane little speech," and something burned in manner of a sacrifice." Then, at the Netherbow, they burnt a dragon, and the Queen's Grace heard a psalm sung, and finally she got back to Holyrood, where some other " bairns "" made some speech concerning the put- ting away of the Mass, and thereafter sang a psalm." The royal lady then retired to make of her reception wliat she could, and the provost and bailies went home, took off their velvets and their " doublets of cramosye," and their " meikle French blaber," and so became mortal again.* Recording a present of money given on this occasion by the magistrates to Queen Mary, Johti Knox remarks, with characteristic elegance, "They gave her some taste of their prodigality; and because the liquor was sweet, she haa licked of that buist more than twice since.'' Mary soon after gave her first grand reception at Holy rood, and then began diligently to attend to the affaii-s of •Striekland, iii. 224. Chambers, L 44 Bell, L 128. 04 Mary, Queen of Soots. her government. No easy task for one whom Robertson describes as "a young queen, not nineteen years of age; unacquainted with the manners and laws of her country, a •tranger to her subjects, without experience, without allies, and almost without a friend." * The great Gordon, Earl of Huntley, a Catholic noble- man, was appointed Chancellor of the Realm : the Lord James, Secretary of State; Maitland of Lethington, Mak- gill, and Wishart, brother of the one burned for heresy during the Regency, all Protestants, formed the rest of the cabinet. The Council, composed of twelve, stood seven Protestants to five Catholics. Among these notables, the young queen came every day, to listen and take part in their legislation, always sitting there, in her modest beauty with her embroidery or other female work, to keep her busy. Besides this, she ordered the courts for the desolate and poor to convene three times a week, and frequently at- tended them herself to ensure justice ; for she had chosen for the legend upon her new gold coin Justus Fid4 Fm<"— "The Just shall live by Faith." At this time, September 6,f she entreats Elizabeth's aid to destroy piracy, then very common in the seas aboui England and Scotland, and begs of that sovereign to encourage the relations of amity and mutual good-will which ought to subsist between them. Elizabeth's ambas- lador was exceedingly distast€ful to Mary, This was Sir • Rob. Hist. Scot., p. lia t LftbanolT, I, First Year in Scjotland. 1^3 Psomas Randolph, whom she knew for a spy on her actions, a wily tamperer with her nobles and a sarcastic observer and reporter of all that transpiied at her court. She was exceedingly desirous to get rid of this man, and endeavored to enlist her brother to procure his recall. But such a course was not within the scope of the Lord James' designs, and he, now in the fullest confidence of the queen, dissuaded her from the attempt. *' At least," she said, " I will send one to England ag crafty as he." She referred to Maitland of Lethington, whom, shortly after, she dispatched to the English court. Crafty, indeed, he was, but not for her. He soon became the paid tool of Cecil, betrayed his mistress and contributed a full share towards her future misfortunes. In order to become better acquainted with her people, the queen determined to make a short progress through some of the northern counties ; and, accordingly, she and a fair retinue started from Holyrood, on the 10th of Sep- tember. She rode on horseback, for, at this period, there was but one wheeled vehicle in all Scotland, an ancient chariot, imported by her grandmother. Queen Margaret. It may be mentioned, also, that she rode upon the first Dommelled side-saddle ever seen in the kingdom. She lay that night at Linlithgow, where her infancy had passed in the times of King Henry's "rough wooing*" and 96 Mary, Queen of Scots. from tb fe she proceeded to her royal castle of Stirling Here n >re danger and sorrow awaited her. At night while was asleep, the hangings of her bed took fire from a light standing near it, and she was with diflBculty rescued from the flames. And in the morning, whil# engaged at her devotions in the chapel, the Lord James, her prime minister, and the Earl of Argyle, her justice- general, entered the church, and in her presence disturbed the mass and assaulted the officiating clergyman. " Both priests and clerks," writes Randolph, joyously, " left their places with broken heads and bloody ears. It was sport, alone, for some that were there, to behold it." And then at Perth again she was greeted with insulting and tasteless pageants, till, sick with fatigue and chagrin, sho fell, fainting, from her horse. So, after a little, back agam to Edinburg, just in time to hear proclamation issued by the magistrates — the worthies in " cramosye doublets and meikle French blaber" — commanding "all monks, friars, priests, nuns, adulterers, fornicators, and all such filthy persons, to remove themselves out of this town and bounds thereof, within twenty-four hours, under pain of rarting through the town, burning on the cheek, and foi the third offense, to be punished with death." * This roused the blood of the Stuart, who had wasted hei gentleness so long upon them. Yet, even then, she neitbei « Strickland, ill., 28& First Teak in Scotland. Iniprifioned nor fined them, but simply, though very per» eniptorily, commanded the town council to dismiss them at once from office and elect better men in their places. Her mandate was obeyed ; and so, in the chaste and beautiful language of Knox, "The queen took upon her ([greater boldness than she and Balaam's bleating priesta durst have attempted before. And so, murderers, adul- terers, thieves, w s, drunkards, idolaters, and ull male- factors got protection under the queen's wings, under color that they were of her religion. And so, |;ot the devil freedom again." * Towards the close of this year, the Earl of Huntley writes to the queen : " If you will sanction me in it, I will set up the mass again in the three counties." Now, the Earl of Huntley was the last of the Scottish chivalric nobles : no stain of English gold was on his hands, no blo< of dishonor dimmed his escutcheon. He was very power- ful. He could bring twenty thousand men to the field, and if unable actually to fulfill his offer, he could have at least reduced the Congregation to some feeling of tolerance. But Mary had proclaimed the fre^edom and establishment of the new religion ; had given her promise to its leadeni that it should not be disturbed, and she kept her word. She was threatened, however, with a league against her, headed by Hantley, Chatelherault, and Arran, with the Protestant nob-es of her realm. This merely added anotbei « Kiiox. Hbt., 7f92-t, M Mast, Queen of Scots. thorn to her crown ; but she steadfastly kept her feith and addressee herself to the care of her government. About this time, she restored to Bothwell some landt foifeifced by his ancestors, including Melrose Abbey; for, although a profligate ruffler, that nobleman had been a fiiithful servant to her and to her mother while regent. New favors were also heaped upon the ambitious Lord James. He was Lieutenant of the Borders, Earl of Mar, Commander to the Queen, and looked shortly to be Earl of Murray. These two were sent with some troops to the borders, which were then infested with sanguinary robbers, " rievers," as they called themselves. Every little baron — every Johnstone, and Armstrong, and Elliott — had a forti- fied tower, and a quantity of reckless, well-armed thieves to hold it for him, master and men both subsisting on plunder. In this single excursion, this state of affairs was almost entirely reformed, although, it is true, by very severe means — hanging, burning, and drowning being abundantly applied to the malefactors. Meantime, the Congregation were discussing the ques- tion whether " the princess, being an idolater, ought to be obeyed in civil matters;" and according to Randolph, John Knox was praying that God would "turn her (Mary's) obstinate heart against God and His truth ; or if the holy will be otherwise, to strengthen the hearts and hands of his chosen and elect stoutly to withstand the rage all tyrants." Another record of the English ambafssador FiKST Year in Scotland. I hibits the fruits of such a spirit. "Upon All-hallow i day, (Nov. 1,) the queen had mass celebrated. That niglwt, the priest was well beaten for his reward." The question of the queen's marriage was another •ource of discomfort to her. Don Carlos, Archduke Charles of Austria, King Eric, of Sweden, the Duke of Ferrara, the Prince of Condd, were all open suitors, whii Arran and Sir John Gordon, son of the Earl of Huntley, also aspired to the honor of her love. All this greatly excited the jealousy of Elizabeth, the flattery of whose courtiers could not satisfactorily contradict the condemna Lory evidence of her mirror, while it only worried Mary, who at length, to get rid of the matter, declared, "I will none other husband than the queen of England." Arran was crackbrained at the time, and became alto- gether crazy afterwards; so that there may have oeen iome foundation for a report which now startled and alarmed the queen. On one Sunday night in November, it was told her that Arran, at the head of a consLderabl* body of men, was marchmg upon Holyrood, with the design of carrying her off. False or not^ it had the effect of making her tremble for her personal safety, and of inducing her to form a body-guard for her protection. It also brought the Duke of Chatelherault to the ccurt^ for the first time since Mary's return. He denounced the report as a slander, gotten up by his son's enemies, and so ibd matter blew over. This was jbllowed by a street fighl 100 Mart, Queen of Scots. between Buthwell and Lord John Stuart's followers on om *ide, and Arran's on the other. It rose from some forcible gallantries offered by d'Elboeuf and Bothwell to the mistresa of that pious leader of the congregation, Arran. D'Elbceuf was scolded, Bothwell banished from court for ten days, and 60 that matter eiided, Then for the thini time came Arran to reveal a plot, whereby the Earl of Uuntley, Bothwell, and Chatellierault were to murder the loiJ James, get more power for the Hamiltons, and strengthen the Catholic interest. Mary, hlarraed for her brother's riafety, and stimulated by hia feigned fears and the secret: nmbition which nas using her affection as its tool, ordered Obatelberault to deliver up his strong castle of Dumbarton and thi'ew Bothwell into prison, from which he escaped and fled the country for two years. And now (Dec. 5,) came roand the mournful anniver- sary of her young and beloved husband's death ; a day which Mary desired to celebrate with all the solemn sad- ness and hope emblemed by the ritual of the church. But she was disappointed, at least in any hope she may have entertained of sympathy. Her nobles refused to weai mourning for one to whom they had decreed the crown matrimonial of Scotland. The French ambassador, de Foix, refused to attend her at mass, and she was obliged to issue a proclamation, forbidding personal violence to the First Tear in Scotland. 101 tr-iclesiastics ^ho were to officiate. So she kept her sor- rows in her own heart, or poiared them out to God. At the celebration of this mass, in the solemn and glorious requiem music peculiar to it, was heard a rich sweet voice, clear and iuW above the others ; a voice that shall be heard again, but pleading for life, and mingling ita wails of despair with the horrified shrieks of the outraged and insulted queen. It was the voice of David Riccio. He had come to Scotland as the secretary of the Count Moretta, ambassador from the Duke of Savoy, and as he spoke French and Italian perfectly, and was a most admir- able singer and musician, Mary had begged him from the court, and had made him her secretary.* The queen had never ceased to practise music, for which she had heredi- tary taste and talent, both sedulously cultivated. She sang admirably, and played the lute and virginals, and it was almost her only pleasure to retire from the council, or to shut out her stormy nobles and the bigots of her peo- ple, and to seek refuge in the soothing power of the sacred art Another attempt was made this year to get the Edin- burg treaty ratified, both Throckmorton and Sir Peter Mewtas being sent to Scotland ; but Mary's answer was still the same. To avoid all unnecessary repetition of the arguments and of the Queen's positions, her majesty's letter be found in Appendix "B," at the end of the volume. ^ Labanofl; vli 66. 103 Mary, Quken of Soots. The year closed with the setftlement of church property which had been taken from the various religious ordert and the secular clergy. What the laity had got hold of they clung to pertinaciously, and the ministers of the congregation received only a third of what was left, much to the discontentment of Knox who complains bit- terly. Yet the Comptroller was Wishart of Pitarrow, for whom the Reformer makes a singular distinction. " The gude laird of Petarro is an earnest professour of Christ, bot, the mekill devill receave the Comptroller !"* Now, if Knox's prayer were granted, and the " mekili devill" did "receave the comptroller," I am curious to know what became of the " gude laird of Petarro." So passed the year away, with some little pleasure, h^t alas, with how much pain and annoyance for poor Mary, ft has really been unpleasant to record such incessant troubles from turbulent nobles and bigoted religionists, as the history of a year; but historians furnish no other materials, and faithful and laborious research has beeo unable to discover any more sunshine, in these first twelve months in Scotland, than is here set down. Some relate these indignities with pity and shame, others with unwor- thy and cruel exultation; but all writers on the period (iimish the facts, and .none others to brighten them Hy sciitrast. So be it The year 1561 is gone. Chapter X. Tht Ruin of Gordon of Huntley. 1562. The wily Lord James had, as early as 1549-50, looked ftbout f^wf a wife who might increase his store. His ey€ fell upon Christian Countess of Buchan, at that time a mere child, and satisfied of the greatness of her estate, her uncle and guardian was persuaded to contract her to the commendator of St. Andrew's. As his afBanced wife, therefore, she grew up, but not to marry her betrothed. He had cMscovered a better way of coming at her property. Her grandfather was an exceedingly careless man in busi- ness matters, and had heavily mortgaged his possessions. After his death, the Lord James carefully bought up th)se mortgages, persuaded the guardian and the child t( mtess to assign the lands to him and then coolly refused U marrv the lady whom he had so meanly impoverished. Ihe was married afterwards to Robert Douglas of Loch 104 Mart, Queen of Scots. leven, uterine brother of Lord James, while the latte? in February, 1562, gave his hand to Agnes Keith, daughtex of lb© Earl Marischal.* The queen graced the nuptials with her presence^ and afterwards gave a grand banquet to the bridegroom and bride, whereat were dancing and fireworks and all mannef of gaieties. Ten gentlemen were knighted by the royal hand, and Mary quaffed a goblet of wine to the health of her good cousin Elizabeth, and presented the golden cup, weighing eighteen ounces, to Randolph, ambassador from that sovereign. It may easily be supposed that all these vanities on the part of the great lay leader of the Congre- gation were uncongenial to Master Knox. They produced a sour rebuke from that good man, and the rebuke led to a rather prolonged coldness between him and the bride- groom. It is strange to find in the heart of John Knox, a strong devotion to the duties of clanship. He was the bom vas- sal of the Earl of Bothwell, and when that noble, taking advantage of the queen's absence at Falkland, came by night to Edinburg, and had an interview with the Reformer, the latter received him with the greatest respect My grandfather, guid sire and father," he said, " have served your lordship's predecessors, and some of them have died under their standards, and this is part of the obligation of our Scottish kindness." Bothwell then pre- * Chalmers U. 215, 920» 82S. G^KDON OF Huntley. 105 tended great sorrow for his profligate life, and for injuries done by him to the Congregation : a meeting was devised between him and Arran, whereat they were reconciled, and parted friends, with the blessing of Knox to confirm their amity. ** But little recked he for the creeds Of either church I trow." His object was to inveigle crackbrained Arran into a acheme to abduct the queen whom he already loved with passion. He easily persuaded him and his father, the Duke of Chatelherault, to join him (Bothwell) in his scheme. The queen was to be seized while out hawking at Falk- land, the Lord James and Maitland were to be slain, and her nmjesty compelled to marry Arran. Completely deceived by Bothwell, both father and son joined the plot. But reflection on it turned Arran's head ; he grew fright- ened, and ran blubbering to Knox to tell him he had been betrayed. His next step was to confess it all in writing to the queen, a step whixjh so enraged his old father, that he would have killed the weak creature had he not fled. Bothwell was arrested, sufficient evidence of his guilt was discovered, and he was cast into prison. Arran wae Bent for and found to be perfectly insane, muttering that he was led astray b^ devils and bewitched by the Lord James' mother. Chatelheraut put in his usual plea of slander and so contented himself with bewailing his son's mad- 106 Mabi, Queen of Scots. nesa. Mary with her usual gentleness, soon forgave Arran, but she remained implacable towards Both well. After irards on the trial, the duke came to court, threw himself upon his knees, and begged the queen, with tears, not to credit the accusation of his insane son. Mary dealt gently with him, only taking away Dumbarton from him and •ending Arran into safe keeping. Both well remained three months in prison, at St. Andrew's, and then effecting his escape, sought refuge in his own well-defended castle of Hermitage, and afterwards in England. About this time Mary had a dangerous fall from he» horse, by which her face and arm were severely injured She also finally rejected the suit of Eric, King of Sweden, who had sent an ambassador with formal proposals. " Happy the man who of such a one was forsaken," quoth Knox, but tastes differ, and John's does not appear to have been the popular one. A filthy insult was ofiered to the young sovereign while conversing in her garden with Sir Henry Sydney. A person, called Captain Hepburn e, approached and gave her a sealed packet, which she handed unopened to the Lord James. He, breaking the seal, drew from it an obscen drawing and a copy of ribald verses, which he wat indelicate enough to show her before the Englishman Whosoever planned the insult, had the satisfaction to know that it made its wound. Hepburne escaped by flight, but the poor queen sickened with chagrin GoBDOM OF Huntley. 107 ftt tho grossness of the outrage, and remained ill fol lome time. The great object of tho Lord James' ambition was to et the crown of Scotland entailed upon him or his heirs; the second in importance was to be created Earl of Murray, as he was already Earl of Mar. This favorite scheme was now ripening to perfection. The greater part of the lands of Mar and Murray had been held by the great Earl of Huntley, upon whom they were bestowed, in 1549, for services against the English. In 1554, the Regent had commanded him to invade and lay wa^te the territories of Clanranald, Donald Goram, and Mac Leod of Lewis, for som« offenses by them committed. Failing to do this, the lands were taken from him, but afterwards restored as a five years' lease, to run from 1559 to 1564. But, now, the Lord James, whose influence with hm «ster was paramount, poisoned her ears with slander* against Huntley, and got her to bestow upon him the title of Earl of Murray, intending that the property should soon follow the title. Farewell then, so far as this work is concerned, to the Lord James Stuart, Lay Prior of St. Andrew's and of Pittenweem, Lord of Abernethy, Strathena, Pettie, and Brachlie, and hail to the Earl of Murray, in three years more to be Sheriff of Ross, Sutherland and Caithness, Lord of Cardel, Earl of Mar and Buchan, Lord of Braemar, Croraar, Strathdee, and Badenach, and Lord Warden of CuUodet. 108 Mary, Queen of Scots. Lorl Huntley was born in 1510, and was, consequently fifty-two years old at this period. He it was who liked net the " manner of Henry VIII/s wooing," and who had done good service for the Queen Regent against the English. He, who stood at the head of the loyal party on tiie queen's arrival, bad warned Mary of Murray's craft and ambition, but affection had deafened her. Her brother lost no opportunity now of influencing her against Huntley, and a breach of the peace committed by that nobleman's son, Sir John Gordon, came aptly to his purpose. Sir John had fought with James Ogilvie and wounded' him in the open streets, for which he was committed to the common gaol. The magistrates were thanked for their zeal by an autograph letter from Mary;* and she, persuaded by Murray that it was a purposed insult, resolved to make a northern progress, and to institute her brother into the earldom which she had conferred upon him. She set out with her train on the 11th of August and on the 27th, arrived in Aberdeen, where she remained until September 1st. Here Huntley met her, and invited Lci to his house; but her suspicion of treasonable designs, on hii part, had been carefully fostered, and she refused to go But after stopping at several towns in succession until her army had joined her, she proceeded to Inverness, and demanded the surrender of that castle. It was held bj • Labtnoff L 14& Gordon of Huntley. 109 Alexander Gordon, for Lord Gordon, its hereditary keeper, the heir of the Earl of Huntley. The demurrer of th€ Commandant was answered by an instant attack, the castle was taken and Gordon was hanged, his Kalf resistance being qualified as treason. The country turned out to the queen's assistance, and she, riding at the head of her troops, turned southward, bearing stoutly all the fatigue and uttering no complaints. On her way southward towards Moray, she had summoned two strongholds, belonging to Sir John Gordon, to sur- render. Their keepers refused, and she, having no cannon, could not take them ; but the refusal was more treason on the part of poor Sir John. Again, she passed Huntley Castle and refused to enter it and in a privy council, it was decided that Huntley must either submit to every- thing, or prepare for " the subversion of his house forever^^ He, poor gentleman, had, by this time, procured and sent Jto her the keys of the two strongholds which she had sum- moned, as well as a cannon from his own castle, with the loyal message, " That his body and goods were at her Grace's commands." The Countess took Captain Hay, who was sent for the cannon, into the chapel and there, before the altar, protested that this whole procedure wa? a eligious persecution against her husband, who," said she, **was ever obedient to the queen, and will die her faithful Eubject." But Murray and the serpent Mai tl and had at ^ength 110 Mary, Queen of Scots. Bucceeded in alarming the queen, by making her believ« that Huntley's object was to seize upon her person, marry her forcibly to his son and slay them, her faithful counsellors Then an expedition was ordered against the castle, which they found wide open, with the countess prepared to show them princely hospitality. Huntley himself had retired to Badenach. Another privy council was convened and his presence commanded; on his non-appearance, and indeed he had not even time to reach Aberdeen where the queen now was, he was pronounced a rebel and his lands and titles declared forfeited. He sent his countess to the queen, but she was denied an audience ; he offered to give bail and suffer trial by the whole nobility, but this also was refused. Then, stung to madness, he called his clansmen about him and defied, not the queen, but her wicked and cruel counsellor Murray. That Earl, with a force of two thousand men, met his unfor- tunate victim backed only by five hundred Highlanders, at Corrachie, some fifteen miles from Aberdeen. Of course, the battle was soon concluded ; the little band were routed, and Huntley and his two sons, John and Adam, taken prisoners. They set the old noble on horseback, to carry nira triumphantly to Aberdeen ; but when the thought of his crushed fortune, his ruined family, his bitter reward for gallant service came over him, his proud heart broke, and without any wound, he fell down dead from his horse.* • Chalmen L 62—77 : il 225, 287. Bell, 1 137, 158. RobortiOD, US-fia Gordon of Huntley. Ill Thus died the best and most loyal of Mary's friendaj one who would have died to rescue her from the troublea that soon came upon her, while the traitors who were undermining hei throne basked in her smiles and fattened on her favors. Yet, although persuaded of the justice of hei course, Mary's gentle nature was greatly shocked. Her sadness was remarked by all, and, says Knox, " For many days she bare no better countenance, whereby it might have been evidently espied that she rejoiced not greatly at the success of that matter." The chapter of horrors was not yet full. Sir John Gor- tble&t hearts God ever gave to earth. See this princess asking Melville, which were the fairest, she or the Queen of Scotland? The canny Scot said, " That the beauty of neither was her worst fault." But the question was repeated, and he answered that Elizabeth was the fairest queen in England, as Mary was in Scotland." Again insisted on, Sir James answered, "Both were the fairest ladies of their courts, that Elizabeth was whiter, but that our queen was very lusome, (lovely.") And then, after asking about Mary's playing on the virginals, the undignified trick to show off her own skill to the Scot's ambassador ; her exhibitions of the various languages she knew ; her coquettish tapping him with her fan and calling him naughty ; her dancing before him that he might compare her with his mistress; her showing him in her cabinet a miniature of Leicester with its legend, in her hand, of " My lord's picture this, with her well known private character, make a sorry 6 123 Mart, Queen of Scots. contrast to the dignified and pure beauty of Queen Marjr'l ife. But Elizabeth was rich and powerful ; her gold bought locottish traitori, and her character achieved the rest. As Melville had foreseen, so fell it out. " Jn Elizabeth's con- duct, there was neither plain dealing nor upright meaning but great dissimulation, emulation and fear that Mary's princely qualities would too soon chase her out, and dis- place her from the kingdom."* And this fear was the mother of an unexampled hate. ♦ MclviUe, apud. BeU, 1 17T-a Chapter XII. Second Marriage. 1565. TaK intrigues about her marriage and the constant, teas ing endeavor to induce her to renounce her religion, so /exed and annoyed the unhappy queen, that she had an ill- ness which caused her life to be despaired of ; she became subject to attacks of melancholy, from which nothing but music could distract her ; and finally, when unduly pressed by Murray on the subject of the church, she offered to resign and bade him " take the thankless burden of government on his own shoulders." This offer unveiled his ambition too suddenly before hfen and he was alarmed. Matters were not yet ripe for his supreme power. He knew well the rapture with which Mary would be received in any of the continental courts and he dared no more. So that passed over and the irirtrigues went on. Elizabeth's real desire was to prevent her marriage at all, inasmuch as such marriage suggested the birth of an heir 124 Mary Queen of Scots. to both thrones. Nearly four hundred years earlier, wiM Sir Thomas of Erci.doune had sung — " The French Queen shall beare the son, Shall rule all Britaine to the sea, Which of the Bruce's tlood shall come, As near as in the ninth degree." And this prophecy had been over and over repeated^ having been directly applied to Mary, by Alexander Bcott, in his new year's address to her Majesty, 1562. Now, Queen Elizabeth, as she herself expressed it, liked the thought of a successor as she did that of her winding- sheet, and so far as was in her power, she would prevent Mary from marrying. Therefore all her talk about an English subject, " the man in the moon therefore, her final offer of Leicester whom she well knew no self- respecting lady would accept and whom she herself never irould have resigned. Randolph himself displays her lesigus by his daring question to his mistress, "Whether, In case the Queen of Scotland could be induced to receive the Lord Robert for her consort, her Majesty meant not to consider such acquiescence a sufficient warrant for marrying him herself?^''* Therefore, her endeavors, eventually Ruccessful, against the foreign suitors for the Rose of Scotland, and therefore her use of Darnley as a still further postponement of so unwished for a consummation. Mary had no desire to marry, although greatly per- •Strloklaod,lv..(»L Second Marriage. 125 tfiiaded thereto by her own court. Her four Mauies, Beton, Seton, Fleming aud Livingstone, had vowed never to marry until she did, and being now turned twenty-two thought it was high time for a change of name and con- ditien. Mathew, Earl of Lennox, had lost his Scottish estates for treachery during the last reign and had been obliged to flee to England, where he was well rewarded for his services to that kingdom. Here his son was born, in 1542, and here he grew up as an English peer and even, in 1563, bore the sword before Elizabeth as a prince of the blood. Darnley, as we have seen, had made an incog- nito journey, and had visited his royal cousin in her duh chamber in France, and now his mother, the Lady Margaret, sent privately to Scotland to ask for him th^ hand of his kinswoman and sovereign. It was the onl^ match with a subject of Britain that could even be thought of, and therefore Mary received the proposal respectfully and promised to take it into consideration. Darnley, though four years younger than herself, waa tall, well built, a proficient in manly exercises and hand- some. He was nearest to the thrones of Scotland and England after herself. He was a Catholic in creed and was therefore, foreigners excluded, the most leasonable match that had been spoken of. The fact that he was not Elizabeth's favorite, may have lost him nothing in the Scottish queen's mind, for Mary was a woman and, know- 126 Mary, Quekk of Scots. ing Elizabeth as well as she did, had, we fancy, no great objection to a little womanly malice, especially in love matters. Accordingly, in September 1664, after an exile of twenty years, the Earl of Lenox, at the express and urgent request of Queen Elizabeth,* was permitted to return to Scotland and his vast estates and titles were restored. This was not done without much opposition ; for the ITamiltons saw themselves by this measure removed further from the throne, poor crazy Arran's distance being greatly increased, and the Congregation feared an augmentation of %e Catholic interest. But the queen herself reconciled the political diflSculty, and Murray wrote to the religion- ists that, by the queen's goodness, thej/ had all the liberty of conscience that heart could desire. At the same time, it remained penal to c-elebrate Mass anywhere but in the queen's chapel ; and the Archbishop of St Andrew's was in prison for breaking this law; while Knox, anxious as ever for his sovereign's welfare, was praying daily that ner heart might be purged from the venom of idolatry, End she be delivered from the bondage of Satan."f On the 7th of February, Darnley arrived in Scotland^ whence he proceeded to Edinburg, where he was respect- fully waited upon by many of the great nobles. Finding the queen absent from the capital, he set out after her, and mot with her in Fifeshire on the 13th. Mary was rathei •LabanolX, I 285. tHiit Ref. ii 43S. Second Marriage. 127 pleased with him, as he was a very accomplished draw ing-room prince, and she received him with marked kind* ness ; and there, in West Wemyss Castle, he enjoyed som« few days of pleasant intercourse with her. He preceded her to Edinburg, and at once entered upon Lis duties as suitor. She danced with him and gave him some general encouragement, but had not yet made up her mind positively to accept him. But she gave banquets and balls in his honor, and, although she refused him at his first proposal and would not accept from him a ring which he oflfered, yet a preference for his society was very evidenti and unhappily for her, that preference grew rapidly into love. We say unhappily ; for, however externally brilliant, he had an empty ambition of power which he could not wield; was vain, foolish, and alas, hopelessly dissipated. Of all this she was ignorant ; she saw but the bright exte- rior, and so soon as she had admitted affec'tion into he? heart, she gave herself up to it entirely with all the trust- ing lovingness and abandon of a woman. At the same time, she allowed her intentions to be known and began to marry oflf her Maries. Mary Beton was in love with Ran- dolph, who used her affection as a means of getting at the most private actions of her royal mistress. Mary Fleming was in love with and afterwards married the crafty secre- tary Maitland of Lethiagton, The first wedded was Mary Livingstone, who had chosen Sir John Senipill, and tha 128 Mary, Queen of Soots. ceremony was performed at court in the presence of th6 queen. And now, Bothwell appears once more, stormily to sue for grace, to be refused, and to disappear again from Scot- land. Darnley had already made enemies. A few days after his arrival in Scotland, looking over a map of Murray's estates, he had foolishly said to the brother of that lord, that they were far too extensive. This was reported, and Murray's hate was the reward of the observation. Finding little support among the nobles, who soon discovered his shallowness, he took great pains to ingratiate himself with her French secretary Riccio, who had many opportunitie? of leading Mary's thoughts toward her marriage. Riccio labored faithfully in his new patron's cause, and the lattei was profuse in professions of gratitude and promises of advancement. But the payment which the musical Italian received for his devotion will be seen some few pagei later. At length, Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, was accepted as the betrothed of Mary, Queen of Scots. And then, in its fierceness, the flame of opposition broke forth. Elizabeth raged like a piqued woman. Murray gathered his friends broke into open rebellion, and asked for aid ft'om England Elizabeth stormed after her manner, which was violent She seized upon Lady Margaret Lennox and threw hei Into the tower. She recalled the Earl and his son, and Second Mabriigb. 129 being a'a>:beyed both, grew still more furKK^*s She gave all the aid and countenance she dared to the rebels. She sent our old friend Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, to remonstrate with the Queen of Scotland ; and so strong were lier instructions to Randolph to stop this marriage^ that he, when baffled in conversation, dared to say to Mary, " that the queen, his mistress, had the power and the will to be revenged both upon the Lennoxes and her to which Mary expressed a hope that Elizabeth would change her mind, and told the ambassador he might go. To Elizabeth she sent John Hay, as special envoy, with full instructions as to words and acts.* " You shall declare unto her that whereas, beside our expectation, we heard of her great discontentation^ and misriking of our choice, ^tc, etc.," we are greatly surprised ; " thinking rather to have received good will and approbation of our intended pur pose, principally in consideration, that by the space of m whole year past, we have always understood and taken it ror her meaning, that in case we could be contented to for- oear to deal with the houses of France, Spain and Austria, and join with any subject of this whole island nd especially of England, that then she would most willingly embrace and allow our doing. And when, aa we, folio wmg the same her advice and counsel, and movea by it, and taking a greater regard of the same, not of the advices of any other, our nearest friends, which for bai •Laba?:off, L 86T. 130 Mary, Queen of Scots, respect we passed over, and disdained to iise, had thuf inclined ourself to match with one of this isle, her own subject and near cousin, and thought thereby fully to have pleased her; when on the contrary, we understood hei laid misliking and discontentment, we could not wonder enough, finding our sincere meaning so mistaken." In the same letter, Mary protests against the imprison- oient of the Lady Margaret, after Elizabeth's visiting and professing great love for her a few days before," and ofiers that she and her youngest soa may remain in England, as Lostages for the Earl's gaod conduct In a word, our good sister, " the maiden Qiceen," " Rare maid and deter sho r** had overshot the mark ; and the princess whose childless death she most desired, was betrothed to her own subject, and that subject was to become the father of an heir to both the kingdoms. An heir, born of the " French Queen," ninth in degree from Bruce, should call this young lord father, and should set his square Scottish body down upon that seat of stolid pride the Throne of England, and unite that country to the ancient realm of Scotland. Elizabeth's wrath and Murray's rebelllun were both ir vain. The die was cast and the marriage settled. There exists an asserti measles followed by typus fever. Be that as it may, Darnley was, soon after, once mon stretched upon a sick bed ; Murray, Chatelherault and others were moving heaven and earth to prevent the marridge, and Mary was ordering gold and silver cloths from Antwerp, to replace the dark robes which she still wore for the husband of her young love, Francis IT. On the 15th of May, she called an assembly of her nobles together at Stirling Castle, and laid before them her purpose of marriage. It was unanimously approved, even Murray passing it over for the moment with a Bhrug of the shoulders and without voting. Shortly after the queen held a Chapter of the Thistle, whereat she made Darnley and fourteen others knights of that most ancient order. Then she created him Earl of Ross, and afterwards, on the 22d, Duke of Albany a Scottish royal title, and finally, she married him on Sanday the 29th of July 1565. Before this however, Murray, who had retired baffled from the assembly of nobles, had openly declared his rebellion. He gave as reason for it his old excuse, that '.ine whereby he had caused Huntley's ruin, and that whereby he hoped to cause the destruction of the Lennoxes. It was that Darnley and his father were at the head of a plot to take his life. He even went so Second Marriage. 13'6 fai as to name the men engaged in it, and mentioned that he who was to strike the first blow was poor, little, old cpooked Riccio. Again and again, the queen besought hira to come and lay his cause before her, assuring him of justice. But justice was precisely what he was most afraid of ; so he sheltered himself behind his feigned fear of assassination and evaded compliance with her com mands. His purpose was to seize her as she rode towards her capital, imprison her and so become Regent of the realm. He had Elizabeth's promise of help. Dut Mary knew well his plans and his designs, and by ^oing before the time appointed, she escaped him. Her own account of his arrangements, to M. Paul de Foix, Ambassador of France, is full and clear. We quote one »ientence, to show her knowledge of her most unfraternal orother's design. His desire was to slay those who were qear me, and among other murders worthy of him, lie had (Conspired the death of the king (Dainley) and of the Earl of Lennox, while I should be going from St. Johnston to Edinburg, to make ready for my marriage, and he intended to throw me into some castle, as I can prove by hundreds of gentlemen of his band, whom I pardoned after he had fled to England."* Elizabeth had given all the aid she could to the rebels She sent one Tamworth, whom Camden calls a "forward, insolent man, to remonstrate further about the marriage • Labaaoff; 1. 80i 134 Mart, Queen of Scots but iLis worthy was refused admittance, and departing in i huff without a passport, had the honor to be confined some days by Hume, lord warder of the borders. She even sent orders to her lieutenant, at Berwick, to seize upon Aymouth ; but the discomfiture of the rebels obliged her to rescind the command.* Her minister, Randolph^ exposes her desires and Murray's plan, in a letter to Cecil. Divers of the other side are appointed to set upon the queen^s husband, and either kill him or die themselves. They expect relief from England — long pro- mised, but little received as yet. If her Majesty will now help them, they doubt not but one country will receive both queen^yj[ And let it be remembered that the Earl of Argyle, the Earl of Rothes, the Lord Boyd and many other gentlemen testified before Queen Mary, " that Mur- ray, at this time, conspired the slaughter of Lord Darnley and to have imprisoned her Highness in Lochleven and usurped the government."! This subject may now be dismissed. The queen marched against the rebels, and pursued them from point to point, until they broke up and their leaders fled to England, where they were affectionately received by the Earl of Bedford. But to return. The papal dispensation necessary on account of the close consanguinity of Mary and Darnley having arrived, they were married in the chapel of Holy • Ghalmew, 1, 118. t Tytier*B Enquiry, L 871 , % Tytter, L WT, Second Marriage. 135 food^ by Henry Sinclair Bishop of Brechin. All the forms prescribed by the Scottish laws had been observed, even to the triple publicatien of the banns in the Church of St. Giles. The ceremony was celebrated about halt-paat five in the morning (July 29) and after the marriage Darnley, whose religion sate very lightly on him, retired, leaving his bride to hear mass without him. Mary was married in her mourning robes; but so soon as the services had concluded, she laid them aside for the gayer apparel of a nuptial feast. The usual amount of feasting, dancing and other rejoicings followed; money was thrown plenti- fully among the people and there was a fair amount of rejoicing. The day before, she had issued orders to the Lord Lion King-at-arms to proclaim her husband king. This com- mand we will copy from Labanoflf, as a favorable specimen of English orthography in 1565.* It is about the same in all the letters, Mary^s, Elizabeth's, or those of others at tha time. D*£dimbouro, le 23 JuiUety 166& Marie, be the grace of God Queue of Scotland, to our lovitti(3 jyoun king of armes, and his brethir herauldis, our shirriffis in that part, conjunctlie and severallie, specialie constitute, greeting: Forsamekill (forasmuch) as we intend, at the plesure and will of God, to solemnizat and compleit the band of matrimony, in face of halie kirk, with the rycht nobill and illustir prince Henrj, Dak€ f Labanofi; L 271. 136 Maey, 'Quekk of Soots of Albany; in respect of quhilk marriage, and duriEg the tytnfl tliairof, we will, ordane and consentis that he be namit ,ind stylit kiLg of this our kingdorae, and that all our letteris, to be direct eftir oure said mariage, sud to be completit, be in the names ol the said illuster prince, oure future husband, and us, as King and f^uene of Scotland, conjunctlie. Oure will is heirfoir, and we charge you straitlie, that, incontinent thir oure letteris seine, ye pass to the Marcat-Croce of our burgh of Edinburg, and all utheris places neidfuU, and thair, be oppin proclamatioun, mak publicatioun and intimatioun heiroff to all and sundry oure liegis and subdittis, as apperteuis; and thairafter we ordane thir oure letteris to be registrat and insert in the bukis of our counsall, ctd perpetuam meinoriam^ quhairunto thir presentis sail serve oure Clerk of Register for a sufficient warrand, as ze will answer to us thairupoun, deHvering thir oure letteris, be yow dulie execut and indorsat, againe to the berare. Subscrivit with our hand, and gevin under our signet at Halieruidhouse, the xxvirj day of jnlii, and of our reign the xxiij leir Mabie, R We should mention here that, when her brother broke out into open rebellion and steadfastly refused to obey his sovereign, the Earls of Bothwell and Sutherland had been recaiisd from vanishment and Georofe Gordon taken from prison and reSv^^rod .to all the estates and honors of hi3 father, Lord Huntley. After his marriage, Darnley determined to try and curry favor with Knox by going to hear him preach. The text chosen was "O Lord our God, other lorda than Tbou Second Marriage. 137 have ruled over us," and the young king had the satisfac tion of hearino^ himself called "Ahab" and his wife ^^Jez^ bel." For the gross indecency of this discourse, Knox was called be^:>re the council and tried, but with his usual luck he escaj>ed punishment. Chapter XIII. The Murder of David Riccio 1366. The double part which Elizabeth found il so convenient to play still went on. She declared to the French ambas- sador, M. de Foix, that the dearest desire of her hearl ?ras to, retain the good will and aniity of her dear sister and cousin of Scotland. She received, with feigned expressions of regret, all Mary's complaints against Ran- dolph and her proofs that he had supplied the rebels with money, three thousand crowns at one time. She declared to the King of France and to his envoys, that she had never aided or countenanced the insurgents. She per mitted the dismissal of Randolph without a word in his favor,* and, finally, when Murray and his colleagues, whom she had favored, as seen in the proceeding chapter, obtained admission to her presence, they, agreeable to their ^ Por all the proo& of this nefarious traosactlon see In LalbanoffVta^ lettezi fromllAxy to Elizabeth, I, S16, 819, 826i» Murder of David Eiccio. 139 Instructions, declared, before \lie Spanish and French ambassadors, that she had given them no succor nor encouragement. Then she addressed them as follows: — "You have declared the truth. I am far from setting an example of rebellion to my own subjects, by coun- tenancing those who rebel against their lawful prince. The treason of which you have been guilty is detestable, and, as traitors, I banish you from my presence." After which excellent speech, she dismissed them from her august presence but permitted them to reside peaceably in her dominions and supplied them secretly with money.* The last act of this farce was a letter to Queen Mary, in which the accomplished hypocrite says, "I wish that your own ears could have been my judges, to hear the honor and affection which I manifested towards you to the con- futation of the report that I defend your bad subjects against you. That were an act that must always be far from my heart, being too great an ignominy for a princess to suffer, let alone to do. Were I guilty, I would wish to be excluded from the rank of princesses as unworthy to hold a place there."f Meanwhile, when these rebels were at their zenith, Bothwell again appeared to sue for grace, and this time he received it. Once more he was appointed Lord Lieutenant of the Borders and took bis place again at the Scottish • Robertson, 188. t Labanofl; viL, 59. l-tO Mart, Queen of Scots. court. In February 155C his royal mistress honored him by tie interest she took in his marriage, and by the festivities she ordered at Holy rood in honor of that event. His bride was the lady Jane Gordon, sister of the Earl of lluntley and of course a Catholic. But the five days' feasting, as well as the jousts and tournaments which were held in honor of this union, were made use of by the enemies of Mary to prove an undue aSection for the boorish, one-eyed soldier. A queer proof of woman's love that, to further the indissoluble union of its object with another person ! But Bothwell, coarse, brutal, unscrupulous, unprincipled, merciless, reckless daredevil as he was, had done good service to Queen Mary. He had almost destroyed the border banditti and had reduced that portion of the realm to something like propriety. And whatever his guilt may have been, now or afterwards, at least he never was a traitor. Free &om one damning guilt at least Hjs soul bad ever been, He did not sell his country^s rights, Nor fawn on England's queen !♦ This year she writes to Pope Pius V., on his elevation to the chair of St. Peter, begging his prayers and constant remembrance, professing her absolute devotion to hei religion, and while reciting some of the many persecu- • Aytonn's BotbweQ. Murder of David R^cio. 141 tions under which she suffc^'ed, declaring once her love for the church a^d her perfect willingness to die in its defence. How soon this might be necessary can be guessed Lt from the spirit manifested by the Congregation. In the general assembly of that body, a month before her mar- riage, they complained bitterly that the Reformation had received a check by her arrival in Scotland ; they demanded the total suppression of the Catholic worship throughout the kingdom, even in her own chapel ; they required that toleration should cease, that the new religion, and it only should be absolutely established and finally, that she herself, renouncing her idolatrous errors, should publicly embrace it.* But Mary only answered that her conscience would reproach her forever should she take such a step, and that even her interest forbade it, since it would alienate the friendship of the continental sovereigns. Poor Queen Mary, draw round thee what warmth is in thy creed, what light in thy devotion, what cheerfulness in thy trust in God, for the sun is going down. Once that loving heart of hers had been given to Henry Darnley, she yielded to her womanly instincts and thought of him only. For him honors were created ; an him love was lavished ; her hopes were in him ; her ambition foi him, her trust reposed on him. And ho was as unworthy • Robertson, 1S9. 142 Mary, Queen of Soots of all tbis as if h<3 had been carefully educated to that particular end and aim. Take his character from histo- rians upon both sides. " Of a weak understanding and without experience, con- ceited at the same time of his own abilities and ascribing his extraordinary success to his distinguished merit, all tho queen's favor made no impression on such a temper. All her gentleness could not bridle his imperious and ungovern able spirit All her attention to place a'bout him persons capable of directing his conduct, could not preserve him from rash and imprudent actions.* " He was adicted to great intemperance in his pleasures ; was passionately fond of his hounds and hawks, grossly licentious and much given to drinking.f Nor was it pos- sible to induce him to attend to the regular routine of business, indispensably connected with the regal oflBce Like Robert the Unready, he was always out of the way when any matter of importance required his presence and attention."! " His words," says Randolph, " to all men against whom he conceiveth any displeasure, how unjust soever it is, be BO proud and spiteful, that rather he seemeth a monarch of the wond, than he, whom not long since, we have seen and known as the Lord Darnley. He looketh now for rever- ence to be given him, and some there be that thint him little worthy of it."§ •BobeitBon,!^ t Bell, 1329. ^ Strickland, It. 900. f Ibid. It. Murder of David Riccio, 14^ His ingratitude for the dignity which Mar}^ had already fonferred on him was h'mitless and he never ceased to importune her for the crown matrimonial, a gift that lay not in her power to bestow. When she sent for him to tell him how Elizabeth had rebuked the rebels, he came at an hour before midnight and left her again at seven in the morning. No entreaties of hers could win his attention to business, yet he carped and cavilled at every act that she performed without him. He early acquired Murray's enmity and soon added to it the hatred of the Harailtons and of Both well. Yet to this petulant, unworthy, dissipated youth she had given the priceless gift of her love. " All honor," writes Randolph shortly after the marriage : — *'A11 honor that may be attributed unto any man by his wife, he hath it wholly and fully. All praise that may be spoken of him, he lacketh it not from herself. All dignities that she can indue him with, are already given and granted. No man pleaseth her that contenteth not him and what may I 6ay more. She hath given over to him her whole will to be ruled and guided as himself best liketh."* This manner of conducting himself was not the best calculated to retain him the love of his ruyal spouse. Piece by piece, cru'nbled away the fabric of her respect for him. Once at a civic banquet, he got wretchedly dnjnk, and spoke tc her so brutally tha^ she burst inic •Strickland, Iv.m 14:4 M A K Y , Q U K E N OF S C O T 8 . tears and left the table. Yet still she loved him ; he was lie father of her unborn child and that was still a link !>etween them. That too he did Jiis best to break. Not satisfied with insulting the great nobles, he must leeds quarrel also with poor Riccio whom he had so greatly favored and employed. The secretary reluked his follies and that set his petulant pride on fire. Be refused to accompany Darnley to houses of ill-repute, ^i: to join in his drunken revels.* He had refused to assist in the contemplated ruin of the Hamiltons; nay, had advised Mary to pardon them. But more than this the poor, faith- ful Italian had done, "he bad not only refused to become a party to, but had even revealed to the queen, a certain conspiracy that had been concluded on between Darnley and the rebels^ by which it was resolved to shut up her Majesty in a castle, under good and sure guard, tha*. Darnley might gain for himself all authority, and the, entire government of the kingdom. He had overheard the deliberations of the conspirators."! Now this man David Riccio was a dan onerous man, for he was devotedly faithful to his royal mistress. The traitoi lOrds, those most unworthy gentlemen, looked for a fitting tool and found it in Henry Darnley that most unworthy consort-king. He was easily led into any scheme that seemed to promise gratification to his foolish ambition. So then the plot of the 9th of March was arranged, • gtrickUnd, It. m t BeH, L m MuKDER OF David Riccio. 14:^ Qaeen Mary then being in the seventh month of hei pregnancy. The plot is usually known in history as Morton's Fbt. James Douglas, Earl of Morton, being a prominent mover in it. Its head was the Queen^s brother, the pious and crafty Earl of Murray, who never lost sight of the one dar- ling object of his ambition, the throne of Scotland. To win this Darnlev must be removed and the Queen seized and dealt with as circumstances might require. But it was a difficult matter to do this while the keen, little, devoted Italian was about the court. He must be removed, Darnley, poor imbecile, aiding therein. So that prince, already, as we have seen, evil disposed to- wards David Riccio, was easily induc/ed to fall in with the scheme of the conspirators. They persuaded him that their object was to set him, supreme, upon the throne and give him actual power and dominion over the^'king- dom. Accordingly, Archibald Earl of Argyle, James Earl of Murray, Alexander Earl of Glencairn, Andrew Earl of Rothes, Robert, Lord Boyd, Andrew, Lord Ochiltree and their complices," gave a written bond to the king, pledging themselves to his service ; promising their parliarmentary influence to procure for him the crown matrimonial and the kingdom if Mary should die without children. The Earl of Bedford or Randolph writes 'If per' % 146 Maky, Queen of Scots. iuasionx to cause the queen to yield in these matters do no good they propose to proceed we kiioio not in wJuii sorty* The first step was the assassination of Riccio. On the evening of the 9th of March, while Queen Mary was sup. ping with the king, the countess of Argyle and others Mort( % xjord Ruthven and Lord Lindsay, with five nun dred m'^, marched to Holyrood House and easily made them^/fes masters of the palace. The leaders then forced tbei' w^ay into the very presence of the Queen, demanding her mfortunate secretary. She ordered them indignantly .eave the chamber, and poor Riccio, springing up. fled ♦>vhind her for shelter. But now, Morton, with eighty men burst into the apartment, and George Douglas, springing tA)wards Riccic, struck at him with his dagger. Mary heroically interposed her person between them, but the brutal Douglas struck again fiercely over her shoulder till the hot blood spirted out upon her garments and the knife was left sticking in the wound. Then as the poor victim elung to her robes, crying in his agony, " Save my life, madam ! Save my life for God's dear sake," they dragged him towards the door. The queen struggled bravely to defend him but in vain Andrew Ker of Faudonside, pressed a cocked pistol against her side until she felt the cold iron through hei dress. • Aytean't Botbw«IL— Nol^ Murder of Datid Ricoio. lii Fire !" she said, fearlessly, " if vou resnect not thi royal infant in my womb But Darnley knocked the pistol aside.* Then Patrick Bellenden drove his poinard at her bosona but an English page, Anthony Standen, parried the blow with a torch that he was holding. And then the coward Darnley seized and held her, while the horrid work of murder went on at the threshold of the chamber. Out of fifty-six dagger wounds poor Riccio poured hia blood Out on the floor, while his royal mistress, writhing m the arms of her caitiff husband, filled the whole palace with her shrieks of anguish. And above even the groans of the butchered victim rose her cry, " Alas ! poor David ! My good and faithful servant, may the Lord have mercy on your soul !" The murderers in their blind fury stabbed each other, -and when the deed was done and the poor secretary lay a mangled corpse, Douglas snatched Darnley 's dagger from nis side and plunged it into the senseless but still palpitat- ing clay. "This is the blow of the king,^ he said, and left the jewelled weapon sticking in the wound. The body was then dragged away and the door locked by the retiring assassins. Then the queen's wrath awoke. " Traitor and son of a traitor she exclaimed turnino- her ♦ This fellow Ker >?aa never pardoned by Mary, but lived in «xile until alio her teU He then returned to Scotland and married the widow oj John Knox I Mary, Qfeen of Soots. flashing eyes upoc her husband. " Is this the recompense thou givest to her who hath covered thee with benefits and raised thee to honors so great !" Then overpowered by the horror and desolation of hei situation, the poor lady fell back and swooned away. When she recovered it was to see Ruihven and hii mates, smeared with blood, burst again into the room, He threw himself, helmed and in armor as he was, in a chair, and seizing a goblet of wine quaffed it to the bottom • rebuked his qu-een for her religion, exulted in the foul deed just committed and then staggered from her presence. Not however until he heard what seldom came from Mary 8tuart^s lips, a solemn imprecation. " I trust," she said " that God, who beholdeth this from the high heavens, will avenge my wrongs, and move that which shall be born of me, to root out you and your treacherous posterity." Thank heaven! that prayer was heard and granted.* With unwillingness I record that George Buchannan oonopolizes .the infamy of suggesting that Mary's affection for hei secretary was not that of a queen for a faithful lorvant, but that of an abandoned woman for her lover. And this of Mary Queen of Scots ! Not Knox, not * The details of the butchery as ^ven above are from Tytler ii. 4 ChalraeraL I 124. Robertson 146, and chiefly Mary's own letters, those of the correspond* ent of Cosmo Duke of Tuscany and these of the French ambaasador de FoL^ Ubanoflf, 1., 342 : vii 68, 86. Mra. Strickland, iv. 250, 266. Murder of David Riocio. 149 IWMjdolph were bad enough for this. To the elegant versifier of the Psalms of David, to him only and exclusively belongs the unutterable baseness of the concep- tion and the loathesome paternity of the filthy falsehood.* ♦ Everything favors the conclusion that Elizabeth who had alreaiiy male turn of Buchannan's venal pen, bought him also to perforin this vileness. Indeed the correspondent of Cosmo expressly charges her with the fabrication of the icandal "LaRegina d'Inghilterra, quale era stata causa del tutto,\ntendendola pace fra il Re et Regina di Scotia, s'attristo molto, et fece scrivere per U Buo eecretario Cecille, per tutto il regno, che la causa di tutto il suddetto «n perche II R« haveva trovato il detto Ricciolo a dormire con la Kegina,^^'^ Labanoft t?* 62, Chapter XIV. Plots and Pardons 1566. MouRXVi LLY did the poor queen reproach her unhappy husband for his share in the frightful outrage just recorded ; and he, moved by her tears and more by his own danger, began to feel some compunction or at least fear. ** You will destroy both mother and child," she said "and when you have done so, you will perceive, too late, the motives of those who have tempted you to this wickedness. Think not you will escape their Woody hands after they have caused you to slay what ought to be so dear to you ; f'>r you will be overwhelmed in my ruin, having no other nold upon the realm of Scotland but what you derive from me.'** She saw clearly into the designs of Murray and his con- federates and when necessary, could show clearly that she possessed 3uch knowledge. It showed his true position to ♦ Lives of the Queens of Scotland, iv. 2TT. Plots ald Pardons. 151 the poor entrapped king, and he threw himself at her feet| begging her pardon, entreating her to love him still and promising to be evermore devoted to her. She bade him first of all "to endeavor to appease the wrath of God hf penitence and prayer, that he might obtain forgiveness where it was most requisite to seek for mercy. As for her own forgiveness she accorded him that most frankly." Darnley, even after being forgiven, retained sorrow enough to reveal to her the whole of the conspiracy Jt was intended, he told her, to behead her faithful subjects Bothwell, Huntley and Livingstone, and to hang 8ir James Balfour at her chamber door. Her own life, he added, was not safe and it was proposed even to drown Bome of her loyal female attendants.* Even now she was a prisoner in Holy rood. The queen now set herself to the contemplation of her position with all the calmness she could get. Her first duty as a woman was to care for her unborn babe ; as a Sovereign, to provide for the safety of the future king. Her mind was soon made up. Duty and interest alike excused her in deceiving those rebellious and treacherouj men, whose whole career had been deceit and who now deprived her of personal liberty and even menaced her life. Accordingly the next day she sent for those lords and at their request, preferred upon their knees, she accorded thew ^ Labftiiofl; Tfi. 68 mq. 152 M AK Y, QcEEN OF Scots. her pardon, spoke pleasantly to all but Ruthven, and asked as a favor that the keys of her apartments might be given to her servants as she had had no rest for the two night last past. Her act of grace was legally void, as she wa then in captivity, but she promised, that on the morrow ehe would by consent of parliament give them a lawful and public pardon. After some deliberation th«y agreed to leave her possession of her own apartments. Then tli^ conspirators retired to the Earl of Morton's house. None of them trusted either Mary or her husband : in whom could men with such consciences trust or confide ? But they believed her incapable of making any effort, after two days and nights of such horror and unrest. They saw her as Melville describes her, "sad and pensive, for the late foul act committed in her presence, being thereby in hazard of losing the fruit of her womb. So many sighs she would give that it was a pity to hear her and there were few to comfort her."* Influenced thus, by a belief In her inability to act, and not by any sentiment of mercy or of justice, her heartless persecutors left her to one night ot repose. But they did not know what that frail body couid support, when sustained by the aroused heroism of her regal soul. Both she and the king retired and silence reigned in the palace. But at midnight they arose, and creeping down a secret passage to the cemetery of the » TJrtie^ IL 15. Plots and Pardons. 153 royal chapel, crossed its sad territory and found four faithful men and five horses at the gate, The men were Lord Traquair, Sir William Standen, Arthur Erskine her equerry, and BaKian a groom. The woman was Margaret Garwood, the betrothed of the last named. Seven people and five horses : for Mary rode behind her equerry, upon a pillion ; and Lord Traquair, the captain of the guard, took the maid Margaret. Then oif through the cold March midnight and the colder early morning they rode, fleetly as possible, as far as Seton House, where th« noble of that name had two hundred armed cavaliers ready to escort their queen, whither she would. On then, eastward from the ancient capital of her fathers, rode the fugitive queen, almost ready to become a mother, horror sick, weary, nearly broken-hearted, yet brave and strong by the resolute royal soul that was in her ; on to the bleak sea coast where turreted and fortified Dun- bar frowned grimly over the wide north main. Here then at last she had temporary safety and repose.* She herself cooked a breakfast of new-laid eggs, and doubtless it was the first heartily relished meal which she had eaten for a long time. Then she wrote some letters to her uncle, the cardinal of Lorraine, signing herself some- what bitterly, according to the Italian authority in Laban- off", " vostra Nepote Maria, Rejina senza regno. Yarn niece Mary, a queen without a kingdom." ♦Labanoff vil 77. 7* 154 Mary, Queen of Sootb. But the kingdom was not yet all lost. That same day Bothw;*-! and Huntley appeared at Dunbar with thirteen hundred men whose lives, with their own, they laid at the queen's feet. Then Mary took coura^. She wrote letters to the principal loyal nobles and issued proclamations to her feal people and both were responded to, for, in a very short time, she had at her disposal an army of 8,000 men. Then the coward league of the conspirators broke up • they had no idea of fighting ; their courags had beei tested. Five hundred of them had taken an undefendevl palace, and only eighty had killed an unarmed and deformed Italian. Glencairn, without waiting for a safe conduct, flew to Dunbar and threw himself on the mercy of his sovereign. The Earl of Rothes followed his example and both were pardoned. But Lord Erskine, governor of Edinburg, received orders to clear that city of traitors at any risk, and they fled, some to England, some to securer parts of Scotland. John Knox was of their number. What part he took in procuri^ig the murder we do not exactly know, but he himself records his unqualified approval of it **Tbat poltroon and vile knave Davie was justly punished on the 9th of Mar-ch, in the year of God 1565-6, by the counsel and hands of James Douglas, etc., who all, for their just act and most worthy of all irraise^ are now unworthily left of their brethren and suffer the bitterness i*L0T8 AND PARDoiSS. 155 •f l^mishraent and exi'e."* To stab a defenceless and deformed man while he clung to a woman's knees foi ihelter ; to plant their daggers fifty-six times in his j)ooi body and to smear themselves with his gore, make a jusl md most praiseworthy act in the estimation of this minis ter of the Gospel of Peace. The queen while she pardoned most of thos^e who wer.' merely privy to the plot, would see none of the active pel petrators of the outrage. Lennox was banished, Mortoi- dismissed from the chancellorship and his estates re-con fiscated to the crown. Makgill, Maitland of Lethingtor and Bellenden were dismissed, and the queen resumed tm lands and benefices that she had formerly best-owed upop them. But the crafty hypocrite Murray was again for given. His royal sister could not forget that the bame blood flowed in their veins, nor rid herself entirely of the great affection which she had entertained for him. How worthy he was of this grace let his own letters show. Ta the queen he wrote, about March 13th, his entire repudi- ation of those who had committed the late odious crime, solemnly pledging himself to have nothing more to do with them.'' On the 27th, he writes by Randolph to Cecil in their favor, " My Lord of Moray, by a special ser- vant sent unto us, desireth your honor's favor to these ^*^blemen, Morton, Ruthven and the others, as his deaf ^KxKx, Hist. Ret LS8& 156 Maey, Qjeen of Scots. friends and such as, for his sake, hath given this adveft ture."* To Elizabeth she writes, begging her friendship, prorais- ing to come and meet her after her child shall be bom •nd asking her not to harbor the Scottish rebels, par- ticularly the Earl of Morton. She requests the English queen to be godmother to her child and assures her of her own sincere aflfection. Finally she requests her to send another and less intriguing ambassador in the place of Randolph the wily. In another letter, May 1556, she conorratulates Elizabeth on recoverinor unmarked from an attack of small pox, and describes the treatment to whicli she was subjected when suffering from the same malady in France.f On the 18th of March, the queen accompanied by her husband and her loyal nobles, and at the head of an army of 9000 men, re-entered Edinburg, where she was received by the populace with great demonstration of affection and respect. But they did not go to the palace, making their residence instead in the house of Lord Howe, which waa kept strongly fortified and guarded. Meantime, the period of the queen's confinement drew near, and on the 19th of June James VI. was born. Darnley's good beadvior was of very brief duration Although forgiven by the queen for his share in the Riccio conspiracy, he knew perfectly we.3 that he had lost her • Lives of the Queens of Scotland, iv. 298. t Ubanoff, vli. S00-9SA, Plots and Pardons. 157 confidence, and this vexed his puerile petulance exceed- ingly. He violently opposed her pardoning an} of the rebels, and pouted and sulked when she persisted in the gracious act. He dared even to say to her that he wa« sorry for having broken with the conspirators, and he set out for Stirling Castle to visit Murray and Argyle. But the queen sent a messenger before him positively forbid- ding those lords to hold any interview with him. They dared not disobey at this time, and the king came back bootless from his errand. Then he blamed her for lack of afFectionateness, for showing a preference for the society of her ladies rathei than his. He refused to do any business. He wrote to the Pope and several Catholic princes, complaining that the queen tolerated Protestantism in her realm, and finally declared his intention to quit Scotland, rising in privy council, bidding farewell to the members of that body, and saying to the queen, Adieu, madam. You shall not ftee my face for a long space."* After some little absence in Glasgow, he returned to iict as before, or worse. Towards the end of July, being still weak and delicate, her physicians ordered change of air, and Mary accepted an invitation from the Earl of Mar to spend a few dyss at his castle of Alloa. She went accompanied by the Earl of Murray and his kinsman, the Earl of Mar, the Earl * Chalmers, L 140. 158 Mary, Queen of Soots. and Ceuntess of Argjle, the privy councillors, her oflScew of state and her usual attendants. As she went by sea, her husband refused to trust himself in the boat with Murray, and proceeded with his retinue by land to the same destination. Her employment here was to hold a privy council, to receive the French Ambassador Mauvissiere, to grant several charters and to call the barons of the country and their followers about her, to attend her on a judici- ary progress. She was joined here by Darnley, who remained with her.* In his journal, long after prepared for and presented tf Elizabeth, Murray writes thus of the journey to Alloa :— "July 20th, or thereabouts, Queen Mary fled the king's company, and passed by boat with the pirates to Alloa, where the king coming was repulsed ."f George Buchannan, in his libellous " Detection," writ- ten from the dictation of Murray^ s Privy Council^\ says, she went " down to the water side, at a place called the New Haven, and while all marvelled whithei she went in such haste, she suddenly entered into a ship, there prepared for her ; which ship was provided by William Blacater, Edward Blacater, Leonard Robertson, and Thomas Dickson ; BothwelVs servants and famous robbers and pyrates. With this tvain of thieves, as • Chalmers, 1 187. Strickland, iv. 884. L SBB. t Strickland, ir. 921 % Ibid. 74. Plots and Parpon^. 159 hon6Bt men wondering at it, she betook herself to sea. taking not any one with her, no, not one of her gentle- men nor necey^ary attejidants, for common honesty.'' Of her behavioi at Alloa. " In all her words and doings she never kept any regard, I will not say of qneen-like Majesty, but of matron-like modesty." And again, "As for herself, she pastimed there certain d^ys, if not in princely magnificence, yet in more than princely or rather unprincely licentiousness,^''^ This elegant extract is not worthy of comment, but ia given merely to show the animus of the writer, and the graces of his style. We shall cul' »ertain other beauties from the same source shortly. One very unfortunate and foolish act Queen Mary did indeed commit at Alloa. At the entreaty of Murray, (who was not there according to himself and Buchannan), at his earnest prayer and urgency, she pardoned that arch- fox and traitor Maitlaid, of Lethington. It will be remembered that after the murder of Riccio, she haa taken from him the lands of Haddington and given them to Bothwell. AniC now, under the influence of Murray, he was persuaded again to bestow tLem on Maitland, and deprive Bothwell of them, who at le.vt was faithful to her, whatsoever his faults may have been. Hs was threatened ^Bnchannan^s Detection, p. 6. He !8 coarser to th« fame eflbct tn hif Nation, 160 Mary, Queen of Scots. witlvissassination by Murray, and he knew tba-t dark maii, well enough to believe that he had both power and wil] to fulfil the threat. Yet at this time Buchannan accuses her of loving the man whose spoliation she permits ia favor of her deadliest enemy. This quarrel was however finally arranged by the queen herself, who managed to reconcile Bothwell and Maitland and restored the latter to secretary of state. Sc the spider got into his web again, and in it he caught rough Bothwell and gentle Queen Mary and destroyed them both. The borderers had again become turbulent, and Bott well, as lord-lieutenant of the borders, was ordered by thture of his will be inte- resting as a sketch of border life at the time; and for its after consequences, so precious to the enemies of the queen. They w^ere terrible fellows those Armstrongs, Elliotts, Johnstons and others. They spiilzie (spoil) poor men of their packs, They leave them nought on bed nor backs, Both hen and cock With reel and rock, The laird's jock All with him taks. They leave not spindle, spoon nor spit ; Bed, bolster, blanket, shirt nor sheet; John of the Park Plots and Pardons. I6x Rypes chest and ark For all such wark He is right meet.* John of the Park was chief of a powerful branch of the Elliotts, and the most troublesome of aU the reivers of the day. He was recklessly brave, a man of powerful frame and well skilled in arms. Him on the l7th of October did Bothwell meet on the braes of Liddesdale, fought him, hand to hand in single combat, wounded, overcame ani admitted hira to quarter. After his surrender, Elliott asked Bothwell, " Will ye save my life ?" "If an assize will make you clean," was the answer, shall be heartily content; but it behoves you to pass to the queen's grace." But this did not suit the bold freebooter, who accord iogly jumped from his horse and started to run. Both- well shot him with a pistol and then dismounted to take him, but slipped in some mire and fell. Elliott threw him- self upon him, and stabbed him in the head, body and hand, to which the earl retoi'ted with two home thru-sts in tht chest. Then Elliott rose and fled, but Bothwell had hit well and when the reiver had gone about a mile he fell dead. Bothwell lay weltering in his blood, till his ser- vants fcund him and carried him, half dead, to Hermitage • Aytoon^s Bothwell— ^Tote. 162 Mart, Queen of Scots. Castle. The next day his death was reported in Edin- huvg. We have mentioned that when going to Alloa, th« queen proposed to make a judiciary progress, and th6 * nobles, gentlemen and all substantial persons," were ordered to meet her at Jedburg on the 13th of August, Harvest intervening, the order was changed to September 24th, at Melrose. Accordingly, accompanied by her ministers of state, her privy council, her great law officers, ber nobles and her whole court, she set out for Melrose in etately pomp. Her petulant boy husband was in the sulka again and refused to accompany her. She was met by the gentry of the shire at Melrose, and thence she proceeded to Jedburg. Here siie presided for six successive days over the assize court, held two privy councils and attended to the multi- farious business consequent on a great court meeting. This occupied her until the 16th, when, accompanied by Murray, Maitland and the rest of her cabinet, she visited Bothweh at Hermitage Castle, and in presence of those lords, thanked him for his good service, and condoled with him on his precarious position. She then gave an houf or two to the signing and execution of papers and returned , with her suite to Jedburg.* On the way back, her palfrey floundered into a mor • Strickland, v. la BelL I «f ' Plots and Pardons. 163 sunk to the saddle girth and was rescued with his pre- cious burden after much difficulty. Worse mire than that we must go through now, to wit, Master George Buchan nan's version of the visit. * * When news hereof (Both well's wound) was brought to Borth- wick to the queen, she flingeth away in haste, like a mad- woman, by great journeys in post, in the sharp time of winter, first to Melrose and then to Jedworth. There, though she heard sure news of his life, yet her affection, impatient of delay, could not temper itself, but needs she must bewray her outragious lust, and in an incon- venient time of the year, despising all discommodities of the way and weather, and all danger of thieves, she betook herself headlong to her journey, with such a com- pany as no man of any honest degree would have adven- tured his life and goods among them."* One truth. Master Buchannan, you have accidently told. Her company" was indeed bad, Murray and Lethington and their mates. But for the rest ! Heaven help us ! You shoot wide of the mark. For, as she was at Borthwick on the ninth, and not until six days of court holding had elapsed did she visit the Hermitage on the 16th. As for her love, she gave a queer proof of it by riding back in a couple of hours to Jedburg after a long ride from Borthwick as you w^ill have it. Your sharp time of * Bachanuan'B Detection, 10. 164 Mary, Queen of Scots. winter** was the pleasant month of October. But foi the company she travelled in, you have truth on yom •ice. Now, the elegant extract given above is nothing to tha which soon must follow. Chapter XV Suffering and Love. IJ66-7. The next day Mary was struck down by fever, a malig- nant intermittent typhus. Whether caused by fatigue 01 by annoyance at the wretched conduct of her (jonsort, is not known, but, at any rate, she was very ill. Violent fits of vomiting and deadly faintings racked her delicate frame, and then fever and delirium supervened, relieved by occa- sional intervals of reason. She sank rapidly and at length, convinced that her last hour had come, she calmly pre- pared for death. Leslie, Bishop of Ross was with her and has left a record of this illness. She begged the lords to pray for her, repeated the creed in Latin and English, pro-' fessed her undving and devoted love for the church for v.l.icb she had so much suffered, and expressed her willing- ness to depart. A few hours, she said, "would remove her from this 16d Mart, Queen of Scots. world to a hotter : and although she had been fond of life, she found it no hard matter to resign herself to dcath^ acknowledging God as the Lord of all things, the Supreme Creator and herself the work of His hands She desired His will to be accomplished in h«r, whether it pleased Hia Divine Majesty to suffer her to remain longer in this world for the better governing of the people He had committed to her charcre or to take her to Himself." She forgave all who had offended her; especially her husband, and the banished nobles ; she craved forgiveness of all whom she had aggrieved. She recommended hei sou to the care of Murray, of Elizabeth and of Charles of France. She entreated her brother and others to be tole- rant to the Catholics, and expressed her rejoicing that she had never persecuted one of her subjects on the score of religion. On the 25th, she became cold and rigid, hei eyes closed, her form straightened out and her pulse and respiration were unperceptible. All despaired of her, but her physician Nawe, who hoping against hope, continued to use violent fiictions and at length succeeded in restoring her to life. This was the crisis of the fever and she now began to grow better. Her death meantime had been reported in Edinburg. During the whole of her illness bei wortnles? husband never came near her at all. Even Knox was softened by this terrible alfliction and wrote of her gently and kindly. Buchannan says that Bothwell had followed her to Jed* Suffering and Love. 16? burg and remained with her some days, and he aUributaa her disease to a cause too loathsomely infamous to tran- ftoribe.* On the ninth of November she was enabled to resume her royal progress. She went, this time, southward to the Tweed, and with so large a retinue, that Sir John Foster, the English captain of Berwick, placed it in a condition of defence ; and on going out to meet the Scottish monarch, caused the gates to be locked behind him. Being soon assured however of her paciSc intentions, he received her with proper honors, conducted her to Halidon Hill, from which she could obtain a fine view of Berwick, and ordered a royal salute to be fired by that fortress. She received a severe injury here from Sir John's horse, w^hich reared while near her, and in coming down, struck her just above the knee. She bore the pain with her usual fortitude, although it laid her up at a castle of Lord Home's for two days. Then turning homeward again, she came on the 20th to Craigmillar. Here occurred one of the most important facts in the life of the Queen of Scotland, and one which goes far to prov<» the falsity of . the accusations soon after made against her. Her husband's conduct kept her in a continual state of mel- ancholy and she, poor soul, had none with whom she could advise or in whom she could trust. Her ministers knew it and resolved to take advantage of it. Accordingly Both- • Dettction, 11. 168 Mart, Qceek of Soots. we.l reconciled himself for a time with Murray and Mai^ land, and they all agreed to urge the queen to divorce hdi petulant and debauched consort. The oily-tongued Laird of Lethington was of course the Jiief mouth-piece, although the others were there to help kim when the matter was laid before the queen. But they had their labor alone for their pains. In vain did Mait- land eloquently set before her the base ingratitude exhib- ited bv Darnlev, his desertion of her for the lowest rovster- ers, his utter unfitness for his position and the many other objections that could be urged against him ; the queen would have naught to do with it. At first she would not even speak about it, and when she did, it was only to say, first, that it could not be lawfully done; second, that he was the father of her child, whose interests might be preju- diced by the act : then, that the king was young yet and might change for the better, and finally dismissed the mat- ter, saying that she would do nothing that could cast a Btain upon her honor or conscience, and that she would leave the matter in the hands of her God, who would give her relief in in his own good way and time. The veteran statesman and her friend Du Croc- describes ter as full of "deep grief and sorrow: nor does it seem pos- sible to make her forget the same; and still she repeat* the words * I could wish to be dead.' " As for Damley aimply says of him that, he is incurably bad."* • Coalmen, U. 178. TyUer, li. 66. Bell, U. 9. lirtt of QnetfMi Ct Suffering and Love. 1C9 Now why would she not consent to a divorce urged jpon her by all her cabinet ministers, even the Earl of Huntley if she were so unscrupulously wicked as to love Bothweil at the time and to be meditating then the cruel murder of her «»pouse. No one believes that any woman of twenty ever preferred the murder of her husband to separation from him : much less a woman of deep religious nature, of uiiusal tenderness and whose whole life and reign had been a course of forgiveness. The queen was now diverted from her sorrow for awhile by the preparation for the approaching baptism of her boy. The sacrament was to be celebrated with great magnificence. Elizabeth sent the Earl of Bedford a? especial ambassador to attend it, and presented Mary with a font of gold worth jBlOOO, to serve for the occasion The Countess of Argyle was her proxy as godmother. A supply of iB 12000 was voted for the occasion. Then on the I7th of December, in the royal chapel at Holyrood, the young prince was baptised by the name of James Charles Charles James: Charles from his roval godfather of France, James from the name common to hii ancestors. The Archbishop of St Andrew's celebrated the sacrament and the bishops of Dunblane and Dunkeld were present. Banquetings and other festivities followed the baptism — but they could give but little joy to the mother ; for her husband sulked alone in his apartments refusing to 8 lYC Mart, Quekn of Scots. bfl present at tlie ceremony or to take any part in thi rejoicings which succeeded it. The Countess of Argyle, Queen Elizabeth's proxy aa godmother, was obliged to do public penance for assisting at a popish christening. Soon after, the king, still in his boyish petulance went off to Glasgow to his father, where he was attacked with virulent small pox. Buchannan says that his illness was occasioned by poison administered hy the queen who would not suffer any ov^ to go to his help. " Nor would she Butfer so much as a physician once to come at him."* But the Earl of Bedford, Elizabeth's ambassador, writes in hia official report to Cecil: — "The king is now at Glasgow with his father and there lieth full of the small pockes, to vrhom the queen hath sent her physician. "f This was jL)r. Lusgiere, who hath been with her in France and had seen Pirne's successful treatment of her for ihe same rjisease. '^Add to this contemporaneous history," says Crawford, "the queen was no sooner inforrred of his danger than she hasted after." Turner or Barns^taple says : — " The queen flew to him, thinking more or the person to whom she flew than of the danger which she herself incurred," and Lesly, Bishop of Ross, writes : — " Being advertized that « Baohaxman, 48. Ibi(l,16w t SfJriflkland, 74w Lingard, vL 09. Suffering and Love. 171 Darnley was repentant and sorrowful, slie, without dela5 thereby to renew, quicken and refresh his spirits and to comfort his heart to the araendraenl and repairing of hii health, lately by sickness sore impaired, hasted with such speed as she conveniently might to see and visit him i \ Glasofow."* Lusgiere by his skill soon broke the disease, which the king's physician Abernethy was treating as a case of poison, and the patient began slowly to recover. He expressed himself sincerely sorry for his errors, and Mary, whose noble woman heart was an inexhaustible well of forgiveness, sent loving messages to him and assurances of ber complete reconciliation with him. Every point of her conduct should here be carefully noted. Not only does she dismiss from her bosom whai natural rancor might be therein, but sfhe acts as none but the faithful and affectionate spouse can act. New informa tion is laid before her, on the testimony of two person? named Hiegate and Walcar, that he and his father, tie Earl of Lenox, are again plotting to dethrone her and to crown her infant. She calls the men before her, examines them in council, discovers glaring discrepancies in their statements and convicts them of false witness before the lords who had employed them. These men were servitors of Beton Archbishop of Glas gow, and she at once writes to him to complain of theii ^Bell,li24 172 Mary, Queen of Scotb. mischief making, and adds,* " For the king, our hut' band, God knows always our part towards him ; and hia behaviour and thankfulness to us is likewise well known to God and the world, especially our own indifferent subject! •ee it, and in their hearts we doubt not condemn thp In vain did Maitland and Murray and Both well prepare a writ to arrest the king. She indignantly refused to sign it She would say only, " As to the follies of the king my husband, he is but young and may be reclaimed." She threw all the blame of his misdeeds on his evil advisers and expressed her trust that *' God would, in His own good time, put remedy and amend what was amiss in him."f Once more her ministers abuse her pity to procure the pardon of the sensual and treacherous hypocrite, the Eiarl of Morton, and he is permitted to return to Scot- land. At this time too she gi-aces with her presence the unfor tunate nuptials of Mary Fleming with that inimitabU incarnation of guile, Maitland of Lethington. On the 13th of January, Queen Mary left Stirling fo* Edinburg, there to lodge her child safely in Holyrood and, that accomplished, hastened to Glasgow. Much has been Baid of unnecessary delay ; but let the Scottish January climate be remembered and the necessity of caring for hei •LabaDOfr;L 198. t Strickland v. 93, 94» Suffering and Love. 173 infant, and the delicate frame of Darnley, and her own almost mortal and recent illness. Let this also he recalled that he left Stirling only on the 24th December, to spend fiK>me days with his father before his illness, and that she, after holding a court and taking the prince to Eklinburg, was with him in Glasgow by the 27th of January. Those wore no days of steamers and swift space-annihilating trains, but of tedious journeyings on horseback over the rough and frozen roads, through the bleak airs and driving snows of wintry Scotland. Get your maps too and look at the relative positions of Stirling and Ediuburg and Glas- gow. The queen was very anxious to have her husband well lodged and proposed Crai^millar Castle, beautifully situated near Edinburg. But he refused to go there, and she wrote to her secretary Maitland to prepare a pleasant abode for nim. Holyrood also would not do. Mary feared lest her child might take the infection; and Darnley feared the nobles whom he knew for his foemen. So Maitland selected the king's abode just outside the wall of E(.iin- burg and called the Hoube of Kirk in the Fields. Knox and Buchannan both speak of the attentions which she showed her husband, and charitably attribute them to deceit. Enough that she nursed .him tenderly, and when well enough to go, accompanied him to the capital, he in her own litter brought for the purpose. They reached Edinburg by easy stages on the 81st of January, and the 171 Mary, Queen of Scots. king was installed in his apartments, which were fitlred uj with royal state* in the old Abbey House of what was once St. Mary's Collegiate Church in the Fields; and between this house and Holy rood the queen passed her time until the fatal 9th of February. We must record two other points trivial in themselvet but very important in this period of the life of Mary Stuart. When at Glasfjow, she told her husband that she was going to take him with her, and that she had brought her litter with her that she might travel more softly," he replied that he would follow her any where so she would be perfectly recomiiled to him. And Mary answered, " that h«r coming was only to that effect, and that if she had not been minded thereto, she had not come so far to fetch him, and gave him her hand thereto and the faith of her body that she would love him as well as ever.'^f And one day at Kirk in the Fields, as she suddenly entered his room, she found him writing letters to his father. He gave them to her to read, and she found them full of her own praises. Then the wife clasped him in her arms and kissed him over and over again ; and told him of her joy, for that the shadow had passed away from between their hearts.J It will be rememberied that on Mary's flight from Holy iood after the brutal butchery of Riccio, a servitor name ' * For a particular description see Strickland y. 128, 1^ t Strickland, 112. % Il>l at once formed an armed band and awaited his opportunity to kill. But wilier intellects than those of the brutal soldier were at work The cellars of the bouse were already mined,* and probably stored with powder; the procedure eventually adopted was determined upon by the others, who kept Bothwell in ignorance of their design until the ievmth of February, \ So the plan once matured, the execution soon folio wei Bothwell was chief actor, and under him were four ruined gentlemen and four nenial servants. The gentlemen weim khe Laird of Orniston and his uncle, John Hepburn of Bol- ^ Buchaiman*8 Detection, 71. Aytoun, 226, 2£7. SHckland, r. 120^ Itfl t Bttickland. v. m 180 Mart, Queen of Scots. . ton and John Haj (yf Talk ; the servants Dalgleish, Wil Km, Powrie and Nicholas Hanbert, more usually called French Paris. Bothwell had gotten the latter into the queen's service, and by him had procured impressions of the keys and caused counterfeits to be made therefrom. The house was now open to the assassins, and the time for their dark deed had arrived. We know how Queen Mary was employed through that eventful ninth of February, and Bothwell was of course obliged to attend her, both at the Bishop of Argyle's ban- quet and at the ensuing visit to her husband. But he had appointed his -v/retched .confederates to meet him at the proper hour and to bring with them the necessary powder, The storv need not be told in all its circumstantial details If here. Enough that the instruments of crime arrived, were treacherously admitted by the valet-de-chambre Paris, and piled up their bags of powder in Queen Mary's room while she was bidding adieu to Darnley. Then all retired except Hay and Hepburn, who were locked into the room to keep watch. Earl Bothwell attended the queen to Holyrood and returned to the ccene of his crime about midnight. So near was her hour of leaving to that of the powder bearers' return that " as they came up the Black Friars Wynd the queen's grace was going before them with light torches." It would seem that after the match was lighted, the kiatf always fearful of attempts upon his_iife, had heard a St. Mary's Cuurch. noise, snielled the burmng slow match or had been alarmed in some other way ; and that he caurrht up hig slippers and his furred pelisse, and rushing out, with no other clothing than his night shirt, had gained the gar- dens. Here however he was met by another group of murderers, choked, probably with a napkin and thrown under a tree when dead. For thus was he found, with the above articles of apparel lying beside him, without a bruisvS or frci cture, or any trace of fire on him or them, though eighty yards from the house. But the fuse had burned out, the train was fired, the oxp!o!»?o;i ensued and with a roar as of many thunders, stones, timbers and massive iron work, from cellar to turret top, hurtled confusedly up to the lurid sky and then fell cliarred and blackened back on the shuddering earth. No powder poured from bags on the floor of the queen's room, and fired by Bothwell produced this awful explosion, for Paris in his confession says, " a tempest or thunder clap rose up, and for fear thereof I fell to the earth, with every hair on my head pricking up like awls."* I have been," said fearless, brutal, Bothwell himself, ^'in many great and terrible adventures but never enterprise so afirayed me aa this." The whole skimbering populace of Edinburg was aroused. The house " was in an instant blown in the air with such a vehoraency, that of the whole lodging, walla tnd other, there is nothing remaining, no not a stone • Strickland, v. IbL 183 Mary, Queen of Scots. • above another, but all carried far away or dung in drosi (smashed into powder) to the very ground sione.''^* The remains of Glen and Macaig, Darnley's grooma^ and those of two serving lads were taken from the ruiiva. Nelson, another oervant, miraculously escaped alive. But tho king's body-servant, Taylor, was found, unscorched, unbniised, eighty yards from the house, dead by the side of his master. The populace thronged towards the palace. The queen, alarmed by tbe din, had just sent to inquire the cause when the Earls of Argyle, Athol, Huntly and Bothioell! (who had made good speed to his quarters at Holy rood) with their ladies and the Countess of Mar rushed into her presence and proclaimed their fear for the House of Kirk in the Fields. Bothwell, as her Majesty's lieutenant, was dispatched at once to learn what he knew too well already, and not till after day break did he return to announce to his sovereign his funereal news. *' Some powder,'' he added, " had accidently taken fire." The poor queen burst into a passion of grief and waa withdrawn to her chamber by her ladies, and the next morning, after receiving a full report, remained in her room in a stupor of grief and horror all through the day. Then surgeons were sent to examine the body, and that over, it was borne mournfully to Holy rood. She could do uothing yet, but deputed her council to act for her. Thejj • Mai7'8 letter to Archbishop Beton, Labaajoff. IL & St. Mary's Church. 183 Murray and Maitland among them, wrote to Marie of Medi- cis a deicription of the disaster and added : "It may easily be perceived that the authors of this crinae, intended by the sa«ne means to have destroyed the queen, with the greater part of the nobles who are at pres- ent in hei train, and were with her in the king's chamber till very n^ar midnight ; and it was a very near chance thai h«r Majf»sty did not lodge there herself that night. But God h?s been so gracious that the assassins were frustrated of that part of their design having preserved her to take such vengeance as an act so barbarous and inhuman merits,"* On the next day however Mary was suflSciently recov- ered *o write to the Archbishop of St. Andrew's the letter quoted above. She says that God "m His mercy has reserved us, as we trust, to the end that we may take a rigorous vengeance of that mischievous deed, which rather that it should remain unpunished we had rather lose life end all."t She uses the same language in her proclamation of the 12th, wherein she offers i£2,000 and an annual pension for the discovery of the perpetrator, and free pardon to any accomplice who will reveal it.J Then cayme the last look zt the dead husband, who had just exhibited a fixed pur- pose of making himself worthy of her, and to whom she tad just returned her earnest love. Long and sadly she • Strickland, 1C7. f Labanoff, iL 8. t Bdl, tt. fit 184 Maky, Queen of Scots. gazei] upon him, weepiiig silently but with abounding tears. Then a letter came from Archbishop Beton, warn- ing her of a new plot and urging her to double her guards, 80 that she, not doubting but that the murderers of her husband were seeking her life also, removed for greater security to the castle, where she remained in a chamber huns^ with black until the obsequies of her husband were over. The body of the unfortunate prince had been em- bfilmed, and on the 15th, at night, by light of torches, as had been the custom for Catholics since the Reformation,* it was borne to the royal vault in the chapel of Holyrood, and laid to rest by the side of James the V. of sweet and prematurely faded Magdalene of France and of the two infant brothers of Queen Mary. Thus I believe, I have written down after faithful and laborious comparison of contending authorities, the true history of the murder of Henry Darnley, King Consort of Scotland. More minute details will be given when I come to examine into the question " who were the murderers ?" By this time, February 15, placards were posted all over the city, accusing various parties of the murder. Bothwell, Balfour, David Chambers and others were anonymously accused ; but none stepped forward publicly ♦ The reader will recall the midnight funeral of the Earl of Glenallen, i» l«nibed by Sir Walter Scott in the Antiquary. St. Mary's Church. 185 to support the charges. Undoubtedly they proceeded from the crafty conspirators. The Earl of Murray had left hei and refused to return to court to aid her with his councils so that the whole power of the realm passed naturally into the hands of her other ministers, Both well, Huntley, Argyle and Maitland. Bothwell was Commander-in-Chief of naval and land forces ; Argyle Justice General ; Huntley Lord Chancellor, Maitland Secretary of State; all Pro- testants, and three at least traitors. And now she found herself so poor as to want even <^nough for household expenses, and she urges the Arch- >:)ishop of St. Andrew's to procure for her the loan of £1600. One placard accuses her of complicity in the murder : her foreign servants, terrified at the cruel deaths of Riccio and Darnley all forsake her ; she is a widow, poor and alone. Yet even now if she would but forsake her creed, all would go well with her ; but as she writes to the papal Nuncio* she has "devoted herself to die in the Catholic Faith and for the good of the church which she prays God to increase and maintain." On the 21st of February, 1st of March and 23d of Marcn, she writes to the Earl of Lenox to come to her and aid her with his counsels and presence to pursue and discover the slayers of his son.f Finally on the 24:th of March, Lenox formally accuses Bothwell of the murder and the 12th of April is appointed for the day of trial. But th^ < Labanofl; U. 2a * Labanof^ il. 10, 13, 17. 1:86 Mary, Qceen of Scots. timid, vacillating earl, fearing the numerous and pow-erftil nobles of Both well's party, writes on the 11th to request that the trial might be postponed. This the court, persided over by Argyle, refused to grant, and no accuser ppearing, Both well is acquitted. On the 19 th the lordi of Morton, Argyle, Huntley, Ca&silis, Sutherland, Glcncairn, Rothes, Caithness, Herries, Hume, Boyd, Seaton, Sinclair and many other nobles and several bishops, signed a bond, by which they pledged themselves to defend Bothwell against any accuser and to do what lies in their power to persuade the queen to marry him. The subject will be renewed in its proper place. W€ must now <>yamine into the alleged guilt of Queen Mary •nd others accused. Chapter XVII. Was Mary an Accomplice of Bothwell ? Mary is accused of murdering her husband Darniey foi lh<3 sake of raising Bothwell, her paramour, to the thrcme Eight letters and twelve sonnets, said to have been written by the queen and found in a casket belonging to Bothwell, are adduced in proof of her guilty connection with that nobleman, of her hatred for Darniey and her d-esire to get rid of him; in proof that such connection, hatred and desire naturally led to an attempt to kill the king; and that such attempt was successful. These letters are found in a cotemporary writer, her Latin-master, George Buchannan, as an appendix to his libel against her, called the " Detection of the Actions of Mary, Queen of Scots, concerning the Murder of her Husband and her conspiracy, adultery and pretended marriage with Earl Bothwell," etc., etc. The statements in this " De- tection " rely for proof solely and entirely on these letters, and on the author's own word. This work dedicated to 188 Mary, Queen of Scots. Elizabeth,* was written by com'mand of the lords of th€ privy council of tlie Regent Murray. Thus attests Cecilj Secretary of State: — "The said Mr. George Buchar.n.an vas privy to the proceedings of the lords of the kiiig'a secret council (of whom were Murray, Morion, Lindsay and Maitland), and the book was written by hirn, not of himself y nor in his own name ; but according tu the instructions given to him^ by common conference of the lords of the privy council of Scotland ; by him 07ibi/ for his learning penned but bi/ them the matter ministered, and allowed and exhibited bv them, as matter that they have offered and do continue in offering, to stand and justify befoie our sovereign lady (Elizabeth)."f This book wasj written in Latin, French, Scottish and English, and widely circulated thoughout Europe. No mod^rrn copy exists; no modern historian quotes oi has quoted fifty consecutive lines of it ; no modern historian, writing against Mary, has reproduced those lettei-s, but 1 mil, verbatim ac literatim, in a volume of letters and papers of Marry Stuart, rapidly to follow this biography. As for the body of the work it is too filthily coarse to print two pages of He, for whom in France she was an angel,J and who has no syllable to breathe ao;ainst her, the savieur of his life and maker of his fortunes, until her marriage with Darnley, he, George Buchannan, makes hei the most consummate hypocrite, the most shameless pros- • detection, 8. f Strickland, v. 74. $ See his poem, Appendix A. The Murder of Darnlet. 180 titute, the most blood-thirsty she-fiend that ever blackened the history of human life.* He makes her become truculent one-eyed Both well' mistress, while her babe was but a few weeks old;f makea her, daughter of James Stuart and Mary of Lorraine, offer to pander to her husband's lusts ;J and yet at the same time, thirst, with a famished wolfs thirst, for his blood, while his new-born child was lying on her bosom.§ He paints her not only as an utterly abandoned woman, but as shamelessly so, publicly so,|| repulsively so even to the coarsest nature. He paints her even as iiseased with her licentiousness as triumphing with delight at the murder of D-arnley.** He declares this sudden leap from purity into utter iniquity to have been made after June 1566, and in June 1567, she was crown- ,es8 and a prisoner in Lochleven, So that she who was Maturely grave even in her tender years, Whose nature had the seeds of virtue sown, By moral precepts to perfection grown, could in one short year, while busy in the complicate affairs of her kingdom, caring for her child, nursing her husband, struggling to restore popery, find leisure to become a Messalina; to forget her duty to God and his church ; to her kingdom and herself ; to her husband and ♦ Detection, 5, 8, 9, 11 ; anywhere — ^you can*t go amiss. Hbld.8. $ Ibid. 5. § Ibid. 13. B Ibid. 7, U 17. ^ Ibid. 89, *♦ Ibid. 381 190 Mary, Qdeen of Scots. her boy ; to forget her faith as .1 Christian, her parity as a wife, her dignity as a queen, her affection as a mother and her honor as a woman, for the most brutal and trucu* lent villain in all Scotland, James Hepburn, the oue-oyed Earl of Bothwell. Now let consistent George Bachannan, in this brtpa Detection, describe the man upon whom the delicately nurtured princess so madly and criminally doted, " At for his eloquence and beauty, we need not say much, sith they that have seen him, can well remember both his countenance, his gait, and the whole form of his body how gay it was; they that have heard him are not ignorant of his rude utterance and blockish ness. For wisdom even they that be most affectionate unto him d%re not charge him with it. A beholder of other men's fighting, sometime hardly chasing them that fled ; but the face of one near at hand turned toward him he nev^.r could abide."* 1 dare not copy the language in which his moral character is painted. Villain as he was, he was the only man in Mary'a cabinet who had never sold himself to England. Modern antiquarian writers have been decent at leatt in their language, and carried some show of reason in the manner of their attacks. The most respectable and fullest of these is Dr. Robertson, historian of Charles V. of Scotland, America and India. He has calmly but • DetecUon, B8L The Murder of Darnley. 191 klioroughly united all that looks like proof against Queen Mary, and to answer him will be to answer all. Let re a first however take my position and endeavor to prove the natural impossibility of Mary^s guilt, before going into the question of facts. I believe then that as to the murder of Darnley, Mary Queen of Scots had neither part nor lot in the matter; openly or in secret. Natural argument is against it because she was a wo- man, wife and mother. Her past life as recorded in these pages, and not contradicted by her opponents, is a strong tostinabny in her favor. Gentleness and tenderness, impossibility of retaining rancor and a too forgiving disposition were her chief characteristics. She was fond of all pets, birds, dogs, horses and other animals. She was passionately fond of children, stopping to pet and caress them in the streets. She was the tenderest mistress ever man or woman served. From the first childish letters written to her mother, to the very last directed to the Pope, the King of France and the Due de Guise, scarce any are without some request or gentle mention of those who served her. If you will stay with me," she said to Oarnley's servants after his murder, " I will be more than a mistress ; I will be a mother to you." The attempt to assassinate her in France, the ruffian assaults Df Ruthven, Bothwell, Lindsay ; the twenty timea r^ated treachery of her base brother Murray, the many 192 Maky, Queen of Scots. plots against her life and crown, all these she pardoned She took under her protection and forbade to be struck oi harshly treated, the galley slaves that rowed her back from France. She was the personal nurse of Francis 11. She wept at the brutalities of harsh Knox. She fainted when forced to attend the execution of Ch^telard and Huntly; she established courts and an advocate for the poor, paying the latter out of her own purse ; she was exhorted to per- secute thera who persecuted her and always firmly refused. Her whole existence was made up of gentleness and mercy, and how then in one year could this young woman became a devil ? Then too her religiousness forbids the enterainment of an idea of her guilt. Her constant piety of word and deed and thought, her fervency in prayer, her constancy m alms deeds and forgiveness of injuries. Her devotion to the offices of the church and to its supreme head on eartn, of all of which her letters are full, which made Knox give up her conversion in despair ; how could she forget all these for a year, to li^e in adultery and to plot the murder of a man who had just oome out the avowed and fervent, although unwise advocate of Catholicism in Scot- land! What could she gain by it. The destruction of a mm who was in her way (if you like to have it so), and free communion with Bothwell. She could acquire a Pro- teetapt husband twice her age, who was an unpcrupuloiifi The Muedt<-r cf Darnley 193 and coarse ruflSan, at the expense of imbruing her Lands in *iie blood of a young and handsome Catholic partner. If she succeeded in concealing her crime, she knew well that Murray her brother — whose eye had never been taken from the throne since his father's death — that the royal blooded Hamiltons and the haughty Douglas, would never obey James Hepburn ; she must lose her peace of con- science and become an incarnation of remorse ; she must lose the sacraments and ordinances of her creed, the fealty of her powerful nobles, the hope of restoring her religion in Scotland. While if discovered, she would lose all these and more ; exemption from open shame ; the respect of all good men ; the alliances of the European powers ; the guardianship of her only child; the very husband she had sinned for, even the feigned friendship of Elizabeth, her crown and throne, her liberty and life. Again, r.ould she murder the man she lored, not in 9 passion of jealousy, but with cool deliberate malice ? Foi she did love Darnley, and it was not a sudden passion, as Buchannan fables and Robertson copies.* She was com- * Let John Knox tell the stoiy. Maitland, he says, was to iDform Elizabe tb that Queen Mary was minded to marry her cousin, Lord Darnley, and th# rather b'jcause he was so near of blood to both queens, for by his moth ei he waa cousin-german to the Queen of Scotland, also of near kindred an the same name, by his father. His mother was cousin-german to the Queen of England. Here, mark God's Providence. King James V. having lost his two sons, did declare his resolution to make the Earl of Lennox his heh •f the crown, but he (James), prevented by sudden death, that design, ceased. Ykmn c&me the Earl of Lennox, firom France, with Intent to marry King JuMfl 194 Mabt, Qubek op Scots pelled to marry; there was no lineal heir for tho«e twt ancient kingdoms. She was beset on all sides, from th« time of the death of Francis, to re-wed. Neither her own Protestant people nor Protestant England, would have per- mitted a Catholic prince to be her husband ; and a Protes- tant was against her own desires. And she chose Darnley, after mature and earnest reflection, because she was com- pelled to marry, and he was simply the most eligible offer Then she did her best as a good wife to love him, and she succeeded. No matter how much he annoyed her, she always forgave him ; even for the murder of Riccio. How tenderly she nursed him in his illness ; how patiently she bore with his waywardness; how quickly she yielded her heart when he sought it penitently! It is impossible to read their last reconciliation, and her conduct towards him afterwards with an unprejudiced mind, and not per- ceive her love for him. Buchannan says, and Robertson, aa UBual echoes, that it was all to lull his suspicions ; all deceit, all hypocrisy ! Great Heaven, his suspicions of whom ! What did he suspect her of? he well knew the truth cf what she had told him after Riccio's murder, that he had no other friend in Scotland. Her whole life proves that her reconciliation was sincere, that her love was widow, but that faOed alM. He marries Mary Douglas, and his son, Lord Darnley, marrieth Qaeen Mary, James V.'s dau^ter ; and so the king's deeirt b fulfilled ; the crown remalneth In the name and in the family."— t7<)A« Xmom ffUtory qf Scotland, The Murder of Darnlet. 195 restored to him .n very deed and truth, and there i« nothing to the contrary but the simple assertion which George Buchannan was paid for making by Murray, Mor ton, Maitland and their crew. And then the means adopted to get rid of him ; oh, il k too absurd to profess belief in her complicity in this She could easily have punished him for any of the plots in which he engaged ; she could have accepted the divorce, which would have been even a popular measure, and that was proposed at the moment of her keenest indignatioii. She could have taken him off quietly by poison ; she could, with a glance like King John's to Hubert, have procured his assassination. She could have left him to the hands of Dr. Abernethy who was murdering him professionally, by giving him antidotes for poison, instead of sending her own French physician to cure him of small pox. She could have brought him out in the cold air instead of linger* ing three days to nurse him, and sending for her own litter in order that he might "travel more softly," but she overlooks all these and other quiet methods and chooses of all things the explosion of a mine ; chooses to startle Edinburg from its midnight dreams with thunderous pro clamation of the crime, " Credat Judosus Apella : non Let us look at the argument of facts. Dr. Robertson iball bring the accusation.* » BoberteoQ, Hist. aooi. aai 196 Mary, Queen of Soots. " 1. Mary's love for Darnley was a sudden and youthftt passion. The beauty of his person, set off by some external frivolous accomplishments was his chief merit, and gained her affections. 2. His capricious temper soon raised in the queen a disgust that broke out on different occasions His engaging in the conspiracy against Riccio converted this disgust into an antipathy which she took no pains to conceal. This breach was in its nature perhaps irrepar- able ; the king certainly wanted that art and condescension whi(>.h alone could have repaired it. It widened every day and a deep and settled hatred effaced all remains of affec tion.* Bothwell observed this and was prompted by ambition and perhaps by love to found upon it a scherao which proved fatal both to the queen and himself. He had served Mary at different times with fidelity and suc- cess. He insinuated himself into her favor by addness and flattery.f By degrees he gained her heart. 4. In order to gratify his love or at least his ambition, it was necessary fco get rid of the king. Mary had rejected the proposal which it is said had been made to her for obtaining a divorce. The king was equally hated by the partisans of the House of Hamilton, a considerable party in a king- dom ; by Murray, one of the most popular and powerful persons in his country, by Morton and his associates, whom ♦ IXa, please, read the two first paragraphs of chapter xiv. to reAite this iOiA iome fallacy, t Compare with Buchaonan a' few paipes back. The MtjRDEE ov Darnlet. 191 he had deceived, and whom. Both well had bound to hia interest by a recent favor. Among the people Darnley was fallen into extreme contempt. 5. Bothwell might expect for all these reasons that the murder of the king would pass without any inquiry, and might trust to Mary's love and to his own address and good fortune for the accomplishment of the rest of his wishes. What Bothwell expected really came to pass. 6. Mary if not privy herself to the design, connived at an action which rid her of a man whom she had such good reason to detest. 7. A * few months after the murder of her husband, she married the person who was both suspected and accused of having perpetrated that odious crime." There is a good deal of grammatical writing here quite unnecessary to the accusation. I have inserted the num- bers for my own convenience. The point numbered 4 is a mere matter of course and has no bearing either for or against. No. 1 is contradicted at page IQl, by the history of his courtship chap. 11 and more fully in Mrs. Strickland's admirable work, vol. iii. ch. 16, et seq. So that it all amounts to this. That before Darnley's death, for some reason or other, Mary came to hate him with " a deep and settled hatred. That Bothwell gained her heart That Mary if not privy to, at least connivea at the murder, and prevented inquiry into it afterwards. That she maiv lied Bothwell is an historical truth. It is used here as an 198 Mart, Queen of Soots. «r post facto proof of her guilt and must be answered by the history of that marriage. But look at the other points. Darnley misbehaved ; Mary was vexed and from vexation passed gradually through disgust, antipathy and hatred to murder. Njt one shadow of proof given in support of the assertion that she hated him, while it contradicts every fact of their intercourse from the marriage m Holyrood to the farewell at Kirk in the Fields. The reader has but to turn back and read her conduct to Darnley, her indignant remon- strances with him, her angers, and her forgivenesses, to see the injustice of this reasoning. As well accuse the widow Smith of murder, because she showed anger and disgust at ber late husband's ill-conduct in his lifetime. The fact is that the learned historian, from prejudice of religious education, came to his work >vith a fixed belief in Mary's guilt, and built up this fine argument to prove that belief a correct one, instead of studying her life and com- ing by its facts sadly but unavoidably to his conclusion. He reasons in a circle. How do you know that Mary waa guilty of her husband's death. Dr. Robertson ? Because rihe hated him. But how do you know she hated him f Because she connived at his death! It is a convenient system, but not a strong one. No, the Doctor starts from his preconceived and edu- cated belief, and when you follow him up where do you find The Murder of Darnley. 199 him ! Where you find all the rest. In a niche between the so-called confession of French Paris and the letters and sonnets in Master George Buchannan's "Detection." This is the starting-point of Anti-Marian writers, not the birth-day of Mary. They do not examine her from the oommencement. They begin at the end. We have conducted Mary's life to this point. Now let Of also look at the end. Chapter XVIII Was Mary an accomplice of Bothwell?— Letters. We are obliged to go before our story here ; but it has eeenied best to settle, at this point, the question of the guilt or innocence of Mary, Queen of Scots. Henry Darnley was murdered on the 9th of February, 1567. Bothwell was accused, and owing to the vacillating con- duct of Lennox, received a mock trial and acquittal, the court being principally composed of his own accomplices, the signers of the Bond on page 176, April 12th. After BothwelPs defeat at Carberry, Queen Mary delivered herself up to the rebel lords, and was by them sent prisoner to Lochleven Castle, June 15, 1567. On the 20th of June, Dalgleish, Bothwell's servant, was captured, and on his person it is asserted were found the letters which convict the queen of adultery and connivance at murder. They were found it is said, as follows :— " In The Murder of Darnley* 201 the castell of Edinburg tbair was left by the Earl of Both- well, before bis fleeing away, and was send for be an6 George Dalgleish his servand, who was taken be the Ear) of Mortoun, ane small gylt coffer, not fully ane fut lang^ garnisht in sindrie places with the Roman letter F, under ane king's crown, wharin were certane letteris and writings, weel knawin, and be aithis to be aflSirmit to have been writ- ten hd the Queen of Scottis awin hand to the Erie."* V The rebel lords propose to charge Mary with tyranny, inccntinency and murder, and allege that they have " her own handwriting to prove the charge/' July 24. Finally, they do charge her and produce letters, on the 15th December, just six months after her imprison- ment. They are shown j9 the commissioners of Queen Elizabeth in England, Mary being then virtually a captive there. These letters, sonnets and a paper purporting to be the confession of Fnench Paris, are the only document! upon which the queen's guilt is attempted to be established. I propose to show that all are simple forgeries. And to do this, must begin with a short history of the " Letters." The first mention made of them is in a letter from Sii Nicholas Throckmorton to Queen Elizabeth, after Mary's imprisonment in Lochleven, July 24, 1567. He says: — ** Thirdly, they mean to charge her with the murder of hei husband, whereof they say, they have as apparent proof * Bucbazmsn, Detection, 91. 202 Maey, Qukea of Scots. against her as may be, as well hy the testimony/ of her own handwriting as also by suflScient witnesses."* This is th« fiist mention although they are said to have been taken on June 20th. These letters are eight in number, and are described in an act of Murray's secret council, December 4 (six months after their discovery) as " diverse her privie letters, writ- ten and subscribed with her own hand, and sent by her to James, Earl of Bothwell.^f But the word " subscribed is withdrawn on the loth, and it is merely said "wholly written in her own hand."J They next appear at York, October 1568, where the queen's commissioners met those of Murray and Elizabeth, and are exhibited by Maitland and Buchannan as evidence against the queen. § They were taken it is said in a gilt box. Now what the material of the box was we do not know, but to judge from its elasticity, it was made either of gutta perch a or Maitland's conscience. At first it contained but three letters, then seven, then eight. Fifteen months afterwards it gave forth for the first time, the sonnets, || and there is every reason to believe that they could have found in it anything that Robert Houdin, or Signor Blitz find in theif lagic boxes. tfary, hearing something of these papers, instructs hei •Strickland, ▼.824. tTytler,LS5. $Ibid.L87. {Ibid. L 95. lIbld.L91. The Murdek op Darnley. 203 commissioner, that, " In C2.se they alledge they have any writings of mine which may infer presumption against me, in that case you shall desire the principals {i. e. originals)^ to be produced, and that I, myself, may have inspection thereof and inake answer thereto,''^ * A request certainly reasonable but never complied with. She never saw them till the day of her death. How Elizabeth acted may be judged from her order in council, at Hampton Court, October 30, 1568. After Mary's Commissioners have been received, Murray's are to follow, and of them shall be demanded " Why they forbear to charge the queen with the guiltiness of the murder of her husband. If they will in the end, to show suflScient matter to prove her guilty, it is thought good for many respects that they shall be assured that they shall not be made subject to her indignation^ and that her Majesty (Elizabeth), will never restore her to the throne. And because this manner of proceeding cannot be so secretly used, but the knowledge thereof will by some means come to the Queen of Scots, it is thought most necessary of all things, that she be circumspectly looked unto, for doubt of escaping, and therefore it is thought good that all preparation be hastened for removing her to Tutbury,"* So when poor Mary is safely incarcerated in the Castk o! Tutbury, the conferences are opened, and the Earl of • Labancfl; U. fiOfi. •Tytter.Llia 204 Mary, Queen of Scots. Munay and his creatures formally accuse her of partidi pancy in her husband's death. November 2(5, 1^68. Then Mary demands of Elizabeth that slie also " maj come in proper person into her Majesty's own presence, and that of her nobility, and of all the ambassadors of other countries, to declare her innocency, and to make her Majesty and them understand the untrue, invented calum- nies of her said rebels, since they have free access tc accuse her," otherwise that the commissioners " shall pro- test, that for the said considerations all that they can or may do against us, shall be null and of no prejudice to us hereafter." She then protests against the manner in which the conference is conducted, and orders her repre- Bentatives as follows: — "The Earl of Murray is permitted to come into their (the commissioners') presence, and if the like be not granted us as is reasonable, and yet our sister i^hall condemn us in our absence, not having place to answer ioT ourselves as justice requires, then you shall break your inference, and proceed no further therein but take your leave and come away/'* Mary was not afraid of inquiry nor of justice, but an appeal for either to Elizabeth Tudor was a vain one. The fangs of that she- wolf are fastened in her rival's flesh, nor will she loosen hold till she have gnawed her way to thtj heart. Again, December 19, she demands to see the original •lAbanoff, IL 282. The Murder of Darjjley. 205 letter, and says she, " With God's grace we shall rnako Buch answer thereto, tha-t our innocence shall be known to our good sister and to all other princes, and shall charge ikem as authors, inventors and doers of the same crime thoy would impute to us."* But on the 12th January, 1569, "The Earl of Murray And all his adherents came into the presence of the Queen's Majesty of England, and got license to depart into Scot- land."! So away they went with their precious box of letters and sonnets, and these were heard of no more until 1571, when the worthy George Buchannan published the I'bscene libel which he called the Detection. Then, they were given to the public and disseminated i-hroughout iCurope. Such is the history of the letters. iTc w for their merits. To any one familiar with the style of Marv's genuine letters, a mere lection of these epistles were suffij"! en t proof of their spuriousness. Their inelegancy, their excessive ijoarseness and lack of every feminine and delicat-i charac- teristic; their gross imitations and maudlin lustfalness are utterly at variance not only with the queen's character, but even with that of anv woman refined enouofh or culti- vated enough to write good French. As for the aonneta, Brantome, a good judge, says — "77s sant trop g) ^sier^ el mul polls pour etre aoi^tis d'clle^'l That Mary, Queen of Scots, daughter of James V. apd • Labanoff, ii. 258 t Tytler, L 155 t TyU«r, L 966i. 206 Mary, Queen of Scots. Mary de Guise, the elegant ornament of the Court of Henry IT., the pupil of Ronsard and Buchannan, th« belle of Europe, whose hand was coveted by nearly every unmarried prince then living; while her husband was still living and her only child a few months old, that she could write such things as this to rough, fierce, monops Bothwell, is incredible. ** Las ! n^est U pas J& en possession Du corps Entre ses mains et dans son plein pouToir, Je metz mon fils, mon honneur et ma Tie Hon pais, mes subjectz, mon ame assubjectie. Pour luy aussi je jette maintes larmes. Premier quand il se fist de ce corps possessetir, Du quel alert il n'^a/toit pas le cctur^''* etc., etc.^ But that she should send pages of this stuff to him and rign her name to them is impossible. Then again that Both well should preserve such damning evidence against himself, and so carelessly too, not even taking it with him or destroying it in his flight from Edinburg, is incredible. And the box too ; she must needi give him a relic of her idolized boy-husband Francis. How Murray got it, might be arrived at by remembering that after imprisoning his royal sister in Lochleven, he robbed her treasury and jewel caskets in Holyrood. The probable truth is this. They were composed by George Buchannan (compare their style with the Deteo •DeUetlon, Soimetts, pauim. The Murdeb of Darnley. 207 ticn) and copied by Secretary Maitland of Lethington, at the command of James Earl of Murray. Lord Errol, who was with Murray until the queen's escape from Lochleven, signs the instructions sent to the queen's commissioners by the loyal Scots nobles, and in those instructions says of Murray, Morton and their accomplices: — "They with deceitful means obtained the strength of the country ; also they had the whole munition put in their hands by trea sonable deceit and boasted that if the loval lords were to mise an army, they would send her Iiead to them.''* These letters are said to have been found upon Dalgleish on the SOth of June. Why were they kept secret for six months ? Why was he respited for six months instead of being hanged with Talla, Powrie and Hepburn ? Why was he never examined about them ? Why lay they so long idle? Because they did not exist. Because they had not yet been manufactured. When the time comes, you shall have not only letters, but sonnets and a confession of French Paris and a contract of marriage in the bargain ! They hold absolute proof under her own hand that she, as paramour of Both well, murdered Henry Darnley. They have it on the 20th of June, yet on the 26th they accuse him of " intercepting her majesty, carrying her forcibly away, holding her as his prisoner, compelling her to marry bira, and keeping her under restraint." And again in answer to the inquiries of Sir N. Throcfc • Tytl«r, I &8, not^ 208 Mary, Queen of Scots. morton on behalf of Elizabeth, thev describe how she wal carried ofi' by force, her person violated, and afrei-wards ihey add, *'he kept her environed with a continual guard of harquebusiers as well day as night." * * * " Al which considerations had rendered it their duty, to take np arms to deliver their sovereign from his wicked hands."* In the same paper they call him the " murderer of the king," but where is her complicity. They have the proof of it in that miraculous box, why not produce it? Again. Murray and Morton pledge their words of horror that these letters are written in French by Queen Mary Stuart's own hand. As French originals they were pre- sented to the English commissioners and explained by George Buchannan. In his Detection, over the head of each letter, he gives five or six lines from the original French, "Now mark, how plain a tale shall put them down 1" They were not vv/itten first in French at all. Therefore they were not written by her to Bothwell, as Bworn to, on their honors, by those double-dyed villains and perjured traitors Murray and Morton. These letters, whoever was their author, were originally written in hioad Scotch, thence translated into Latin from Latin into French, and this second-hand translation was sworn to by Murray and Morton as Queen's Mary's original writing.f Proofs. — They are full of Scottish idioms which both • Strickland, ▼. 324. + TyUer,i. 188-188 ; UL 88a The Murderof Darn ley. 209 the Latin and French translators have blundered over. Take three from the first letter,* " Ve have sair going to see seiJc folk." You have, or it is, sore or unpleasant to visit sick folks. Now the Latin man, from the old fashioned long "s" takes "sair" for "fair," and "5^2^" for "sic," or " such," ana accordingly writes:— " Bella hujusmodi hommum visitatio." llie Frenchman copies, " Vojla une belle visitation de telles gens." It is pleasant to visit such people. Again : "I am going to seek my rest till to-morrow when I shall end my by bylle or bylle^^^ a common Scotticism for any writing. But the Latinist makes it " ticm mea biblia finiam^'' and the Frenchman " afin que je Jinisse id ma . hible^'' when I shall end my Bible ! And again : " I am irkit (i, e. weary) and going to sleep." The copy- ist mistook the word and wrote it " nakit,^^ and the Latin Bays Ego nudata sum, and the Gaul writes Je suis touU nue, I am naked ! \ The inhabitants of New York have been electrified by a statement of that great philosopher and clerk of the wea- ther E. Meriam, that, in the depth of the winter 1856-7 when the cold was 32° below zero, he went out of doors in his night clothes to note the variations of the tempera- ture. But what is this to Mary Queen of Scots who could ♦ It la first in Tytler, ii. 875, but in my copy of Buchannan's Detection, Lo& ion, 1721, it is t;econd. Vid. Detection, 136. t Tytler, L 1S3, 1S7-1S3. 21C Mary, Queen of Sootb. Bit up all night writing love letters, stark naked, in tht middle of a Scotch January. Dr. Robertson himself after a hard fight confesses the French to be a translation from the Scottish.* On-3 other point about this letter. " I will finish it " says the writer to-morrow." Mary left Edinburg to visit her Eick husband, and arrived in Glasgow on the night of the 23d. Fact says she passed her time in nursing him. Mur- ray and Co. say she passed it in writing this long letter to Both well. "I will finish to-morrow." That makes it the 24th. The " Confession of Paris," makes that lackey say that he delivered the letter to Bothv/ell in Edinburg on the 25th, and that Bothwell gave him an answer on the 26th, after dinner, which he took to the queen at Glasgow, where he could not arrive before the 27th. But Murray in his Journal says that Bothwell went into Liddesdale on the 24th and did not return until the 28th, giving the lie direct to Paris. And is it not singular that the queen who parted from Bothwell on the 23d should be so ignorant of her accomplice's movements as to suppose him in Edin- burg when he was off in Liddesdale ? f What does Queen Elizabeth think of these letters f That "there had been nothing suflSciently produced, nor showu by them against the queen their sovereign, whereby she (Elizabeth) could conceive or take any ill opinion of the |ueen her good sister."J * 5ftrtter, L 1S3, IST-ISS. Rcbertaon, 1pp., Dise. on King Henry's xdoHou t Pytlsr, 1. 181. X Ibid. IL 80S-4a(k The Murder of Darnlet. 211 Now where did these French translations from the Latin of the Scotch come from ? Lesly, bishop of Ross, a cotem- porary writer, declares that several persons about the court could counterfeit Mary's hand. She he^-self says " there are Jivers in Scotland, both men and women, that can counter feit my handwriting, and write the like manner of writing that I use as well as myself, and principally them that are in company with themselves^'** Murray and Co. Let us look a little closer. A cotemporary author, Crawford, in his Memoirs says " It was notoriously known that (Maitland of) Lethington has often copied the queen's hand."t Such is the story of these French originals, proved to b« translated from the Scotch. Growing from three to eighty and thence through fifteen months, expanding into sonnets, marriage contract, etc : vouched for, on his honor, by Mur- ray, who proves, by his journal, that the only direct witness to their authenticity is a liar : utterly unnatural in style, language and thought : kept from Mary's sight : prophe- cied by Errol : unused for six months, and discredited by Elizabeth. Where did they come from ? From the braia >f Buchannan and the pen of Maitland. The internal evidence that they are by the author of the i detection is almost positive. And for their use when printed, let Queen Elizabeth "our dear sister and cousin,*^ \e virgin queen," the infanticide and murderess of hei • Ubanofl; U. 208. t Tyttor, L Kfl. 212 MarYj Queen of Scots. lovers, let her speak to her ambassador in France : — " It were not amiss to have Jivers of Bnchannan's little Latin books, to present, if need were, to the king, as from yourself, and to some of the other noblemen of his council : for they will serve to good effect to disgrace Aer."* As for George Buchannan, after one slight tribute to hia memory, I have done with him. Bevill Higgons in his •'Short view of English History, London 1736," says that he recanted all he had written against Mary on his death- bed. Camden, in his annals writes " that he wished he might have wiped out all he writ against Mary Queen of Scots with his blood." He cannot do that now. He has gone to his place. Gone with his prostituted genius, varied learning, divine gift of poetry, and leaving his name and character beLmd him. Covered with wealth and honors, his toil was to impoverish their donor. Trusted by an almost friendless woman, he was proud of his supereminence in treachery to her. Owing her his life, he devoted all its energies to the destruction of hers. A witness of her dignified purity, he described her as more shameless than the basest prostitute. Kn elegant scholar, he ransacked the vocabulary of the brothel for language to clothe his calumnies. He sought to be unrivalled in baseness, peerless in falsehood, supreme in ingratitude and in all he succeeded. An encomiast without sincerity, a religionist without charity, a reformei • Tytl«r. L 204. The Murder of Darnley. 213 irithout principle, a historian without conscience. He had Napoleon's ambition, rendered powerless by a sneaking nature : he had the blood-thirst of a Nero, but paralyzed by cowardice. A traitor, a forger, a false witness, a pol- troon, a venal writer, a malignant ingrate. Thus before the eyes of a loathing world, shall stand the caitiff George Buchannan, upon a pinacle of infamy, loftily inaccessible by any other, even the boldest of historical miscreants. Chapter XIX Confession of Paris. It will be remembered that Nicholas Hubert, commonly called French Park, was a servant of Both well, and that the latter had procured him the place of valet in the service of Queen Mary sometime before the murder of the king. He it was who furnished moulds of the locks by which the false keys were made which gave the assassins entrance to the house of Kirk in the Fields. After the denouement of that tragedy, Paris disappeared. Hay of Talla, Hepburn, Powrie and Dt^igleish, were tried for the crime, found guilty and handed. Paris disappeared and was not again heard of ufitil August of 1569 after Murray's return from the English Conferences. Baffled in those, he made a final attempt to blacken the character of Lis sister and queen, by another forgery, purporting to be the dying confession of this wretched lackey. Now for the facts of the case. This unfortunate man was not publicly tried, as Hay and Confession of Paris. 215 Hopburn, Powrie and Dalgleish had been ; but after, we know not how long a confinement in Murray's citadel of Bt. Andrew's, he was privately tried by that earl, privately ijondemned to death, without witness, or recorded pro- ceedings ; his very existence being unknown until he wai brought out for execution on August 10th. Several months after, a paper called his Confession was ient to Cecil by Murray after the conferences were over, and thouirh never used at the time, has since served as evidence against Mary wherever the appetite for such evidence has been stronger than good taste cr sense of justice. She her- self never saw, nor so far as is known, even heard of it durinjr the rest of her mournful life. There are two papers extant, professing to be the con- fession of this man. The first dated August 9th, and signed ** N," accuses Bothwell of the murder but mentions neither the queen nor the letters. The second, dated August lOtb is filled with praises of Murray, direct accusation of Mary, and statements of the manner in which he, Paris, played the postboy between her and Bothwell. The first of these confessions, still extant in the Cotton library, was publicly made and heard by many. Bishop Lesly says, addressing Murray, " As for him whom you surmise was the bearer of the letters, and whom you have executed for the said murder, he, at the time of his said execution, took it upon bis death, as he should answei 216 MarYj Queen of Scots. befcre God, that he never carried any suck letters nor that the queen was participant nor of counsel in the cause.'** So thai Bishop Lesly, who wrote months after the death of Paris, and who peihaps heard his first confession, had never even dreamed of the existence of the second. In deed, the mere fact of keeping it secret, showed that Murray dared not publish it while so many were alive in Scotland who had witnessed the execution and heard what the cri- minal really did confess. So that the first confession had many witnesses and tha second none. The first was public in August 1569, and the second was kept secret and never used by Murray in support of his accusation. Again. Even in the Detection where nothing that the bitter malice of a lost soul could invent, is forgotten, even there, there is no mention made of this document Buchannan himself was ignorant of its existence, up to 1571 and through all his after editions. Again. Hay, clerk of Murray's secret council, who alone attests that this paper came before the council, on the 10th of January, writes to John Knox on the 14th of December, nearly a whole year afterwards, that thoy, Murray and Co., "have set out in England our queen's life and process, her sonnetts and letters to Bothwell, etc." and th.at " they leave nothing unset out tending to her infamy. ''f Yet he never mentions this confession of Pans. • Tytler, L »7. t Ibid, 1. 300. Confession*' of Parib. 211 Finally, look at the thing itself. Paris is made to say, That the first time he entered into trust or credit with the queen was at Kalendar on her road to Glasgow, where she gave him a purse of three or four hundred crowns to deliver to Both well." Why not give it herself! Both- well was with her then and there. He is made to say that the queen told him, a menial servant, that " the king desired to kiss her and that she refused him for fear of his malady.'' That she said "Tell Bothwell, I shall not go near the king Jixcept in company with Lady Reres, who shall see all I do." That, as he was making the queenh bed, he said to hei; "Madam, Monsieur de Bothwell hath commanded me U bnng to him the keys of your chamber as he wants to do something there ; that is to blow the king in the air with oowder, faire sauter le Boy en Pair par pouldre^ That Bothwell told him that " Lady Keres walked out avery night, to meet him (Bothwell) and conduct him to *Jie queen's bedchamber,* Mary Stuart and haughty James Hepburn talking in this way to a bed-making valet. Faugh ! The forged marriage contract was never produced and eed not therefore be noticed. The fact of her marriage with Bothwell, as ex post facto testimony against her, will be considered and replied to by the true history of that occurrence. ♦ljrtIer,L811-»13 10 218 Mart, Queen of Scots. So that while the nature of Mary Queen of Scote^ hei characteristics, her position, the facts of her past .ife, the confessions of Hay, Hepburn, Dalgleish, Powrie and Paris, and that of Bothwell himself in Denmark ;* the decision of Elizabeth and the failure of Murray, who was allowed to urge his charge, and was favored by Elizabeth, while all these go to exonerate the queen, her adversaries can bring against her no testimony but the forged letterti which were discredited at the conference, and the forged confession of Paris which was unused at that shameful pei*- Mcution of Mary of Scotland. • Aytooii'e Bothwell, 259. L&biuiofl; Iv. d4a Chapter XX Who were the Murderers? We have seen that Mary Queen of Scots was accused before Elizabeth's commissioners, and that certain forged papers were presented in proof of her guilt. Also, that although prosecuted by her bitterest male enemy, and judged by her bitterest female enemy, the former was obliged to retire baffled, and the latter pronounced Mary Stuart completely guiltless, not having found so much aa " cause for any ill opinion of our good sister It is strange that evidence thrown out by the court that tried her, and tried her without giving her that just liberty of defence which is the right even of the meanest crimi- nal, that such evidence should have been raked from the dust to which it was deservedly consigned, and, used as a weapon in polemic debate, should have satisfied so many that she was guilty whom her direst foes proclaimed hei innocent. Mary Queen cf Scots, as a final reason for her inno- • Trtter, 1 16L 220 Mart, Queen of S|cotb- cence, was guiltless of the murder of Darnley, because other people, without her knowledge, contrived and executed that foul deed. Jaraes Earl of Murray, backed by Elizabeth Queen of England, the Earl of Morton and William Maitland laird of Lethington were the authors and doers of the deed. Their instruments were Archibald Douglas and James Hepburn Earl of Both well, and his infe- rior tools were Hay of Talla, John Hepburn of Bow ton, Powrie, Dalgleish and French Paris, the last five having confessed and been hanged for the crime. Queen Mary announced the truth when she said that they, Murray, Morton, Maitland etc., " had falsely, traitor- ously and meschantlie lied ; imputing unto her the crime whereof themselves were authors, inventors, doers and some of them proper executers."* Remember Dr. Robeitson's ai-gument against Maiy. '* She killed Darnley because she hated him," and remem- ber in the same argument these words — ^*The king was hated by Murray, one of the most powerful and popular persons in his country."! Compare the queen's character as we know it, with Robertson's character of Murray. After praising his military skill he sa3 8, ^'His moral quali- ties are more dubious. * ♦ * * His ambition was immoderate, and events happened that opened to him vast projects which allured his enterprising geniufi and led him to actions inconsistent with the duties ^Labauoff.iLm t Robertson, 828. Who were the Murderers? 221 of a subject. His treatment of the queeri, to whose bounty he was so much indebted, was unbrotherly and ungrateful. The dependence upon Elizaleth under which he brought Scotland was disgraceful to the nation. He deceived and betrayed Norfolk with a baseness unworthy of a man of honor. His elevation to such a dignity inspired him with new passions, with haughtiness and reserve; and instead of his natural manner which waa blunt and open, he aflfected the arts of dissimulation and refinement."* Now, of these two characters, which was the more likely to " kill because he hated ?" Add to this, that one was a delicate woman, the other an ambitious soldier. One had nothing to gain and all to lose ; the other had the object of his desire from early youth to obtain, the throne of Scotland ; if not as king, at least as Regent. Murray was guilty, because he, Morton and Maitland had always worked together, and it is improbable that this occasion was an exception to the rule, inasmuch as he wat Ihe only one of the three who could profit by the king*g death. He was guilty because he courted the throne. At the death of Mary of Lorraine, he found himself at the head of the Congregation in Scotland. About this time, July 25, 1559, Throckmorton writes to Cecil: — "There is a party in Scotland for placing the Prior f>f St. Andrew*8 in • Robertson, 204* 222 Maet, Queen df Scots the state of ScotlaHd, and the prior himself by all the secret raeans he can, aspires thereto." Again, Queen Elizabeth to the Earl of Shrewsbury : — " Before the treaty of Edin- burg there was an intent discovered to us, by Maitland, to deprive her (Queen Mary) of her crown, which we utterly rejected." Again. Nineteen lords, eight bishops and eight abbots write to Mary's commissioners, September 12, 1668 : — " Shortly after our queen's home-coming from the realm of France to Scotland, the Earl of Murray had respect then, and as appears yet, by his proceedings, to place himself in the government of this realm and to usurp the kingdom."* Again. He betrayed his sister's time of departure from France to Elizabeth,f and exhorted her to Bend out a fleet to intercept Mary, which was done. Again. Randolpli Elizabeth's ambassador-spy in Scotland, writes :— "I have shown your honor's letter to the Lord James, Lord Morton and Maitland. They wish, as your honor doth, that she, Mary, might be stayed yet for a space, and were it not for their obedience sake some of them care not though they never saw her foA:ey\ Finally, to use an ex post facto argument, after the manner of Dr. Robertson, he did dethrone his sister, and he did seize the throne as Regent. He was guilty because he hated Dainley, opposed hii marriage and always refused to sign his consent to it in spite of the prayers and entreaties of the queen. Because he headed a plot to seize her and Darnley •lyUer,L85^ tSespagenL |6etp«c«7QL Who were the Mdrderers? 223 wi the first of July, 1565; to impriscii her and to mur* der him. ^^God must find him [Darnley) a short endP *'My lord of Murray feareth that the nobility shall be forced to assemble themselves together,** to prevent this marriage. — Randolph to Cecil, July 2, 1559.* And again, September, 3, 1565, " Divers of the other side are appointed to set upon the queen's husband and either kill him or die themsdves." And finally the declaration of the majority of the Scots nobles, who had joined Murray in his first plot, but on his flight into England had submitted and been pardoned by forgiving Mary, among whom are Lorda Argyle, Rothes, Boyd, etc. — says that Murray, at this time, conspired the slaughter of the Lord Darnley and to have imprisoned her highness in Lochleven and usurped the government"! He was guilty because he contrived the murder of Riccio, the object of which was to disgust the queen with Darnley and to deprive her of a valuable and faithful servant. He was guilty because he urged the divorce, and pressed Mary " to get rid " of Darnley \\ because he assisted at the Craigmillar and Whittinghame plots, and was avowedly willing, at l^ast " to stand by and look through his fingers,^ it the murder : becaused he used forged evidence against tho queen : because he procured the acquittal of his instru- ment Bothwell : and because he urged and helped to bring about that earl's marriage with the queen. • Tytler, L 872. t Ibid. U STT. % Ibid. IL SU. 224 Mary, Queen of Scots. He is guilty because he is directly charged with the guilt by the Earls of Argyle and Huntley, in their protestation Bent to England in 1568, "We judge in our conscience and hold it for certain and truth that the said Earl of Murray and Secretary Lethington, were authors, inventors, devisers, councillors and accusers of the said murder, in what manner and by whatsomever persons the same was exe- cuted."* Finally he is guilty because on his journey into Fifeshire, while passing the House of Kirk in the Fields, the day before the murder, he cried out with exultation, "This night ere morning, shall Lord Darnley lose his life !"f So that the accusations of the queen, of Huntley, Argyle and others, as to Murray's guilt are true. Because, he aspired steadfastly to the throne : tried to deliver his sister into the hands of Elizabeth ; did finally accomplish that purpose and make himself Regent. Because, he was as one with Morton and Maitland whose guilt is clear, and because he hated Darnley, twice sought his life, prophesied his death, instigated Bothwell to the deed and protected him after its accomplishment. So much for the guilt of the " godly Regent." Whatsoever nas been said of Murray, in these premises, ie true also of his associate, James, Earl of Morton. Besides which, after a long course of crime, he was brought to trial before his peers on the first of June, 1581, the EarJ ot • Ay^oun^s Bothwell, 216. t Tytier, fi. 8L Who were the Murderers? 225 Montrose sitting as Lord Higli Chancellor, and was by them found guilty art and part, in the foreknowledge and concealing of the king's murder.* Sir James Balfour tes- tified to the famous bond,f and Binning, a servant of Morton's tool, Archibald Douglas, confessed his own guilt and his employer's. Morton was executed on the 2nd of June, 1581, after confessing that he kneto beforehand of the murderous plot. Finally the lords found their ver- dict on "writings subscribed by his own hand," and the tes- timony of persons who were actors in that horrible scene."J "What is true of Murray and Morton is true of Maitland who indeed was the active and wily agent of the former. He was directly accused by Morton and Crawford of the murder of the king Henry Darnley, for that crime was tried May 14th, 1571, and of it convicted.§ He made his escape, and after several turns of fortune, died self-poisoned in prison, October 28th, 1572. He only of this horria triumvirate was moved by remorse. He appeared to feel Bome sorrow after his wiles had resulted in Mary's over- throw, and spoke of her as " a princess, so gentle and benign in her behaviour to all her subjects, that w^onder it was that any could be found so ungracious as to think eviJ against her."|| Both well confessed his guilt, as did his assistants whc were executed for the crime. • Tytler, il 264. t Vide p 1T«. X Wat, ii 876, 266. % Ohalmers, U. 874. | Tytler, U. SML 10* 226 Mary, Queen of Scots. The complicity of Elizabeth is proven by her constAntlj preserved understanding with Murray, Morton and Mait* land, by her protection of the two former, by the manner in which she caused the conferences to be conducted, and by her unscrupulous injustice and persistent diabolic cruelty to her unfortunate victim. This has been and will be detailed in the course of this narrative. Thus then, with much labor, with fixed adrerseness to prejudice, and with what skill has been given to me, I have written the history of Henry Darnley's assassination and the argument in favor of Mary Stuart and against her brother and his associates. There is yet one point which goes to show that others than Bothwell were guilty of the actual murder. That noble, as we have seen, had proposed that each of the conspirators should furnish two armed men, to watch the king and kill him if possible while hunting. Bothwell, we know, had his men arnaed and on the alert until the Yth of February, when for the first time the plan of blowing up by powder was suggested to him, and acquiesced in by him. But the king was not blown up. He could not have been blown off eighty yards with his servant, furred pelisse and slippers, yet have neither bruise nor singe upon his body or garments. Mr, Aytoun* has consulted several ^ Read the whole note, Aytoun's BothweU. Who were the Murderers? 227 engineers, and they state that the pcwder as placed and fired by Bothwell and his men, could not have destroyed the house as it was destroyed. The very cellars and vaults were blown up, and .therefore the house was mined far lower down than the first story. Mines always explode upward. Morton's indictment reads that he and his accom plices put powder " under the ground and angular stands, and within the vaults, low and back parts and places thereof." The house of Kirk in the Fields belonged to Robert Bal- four, brother to the Sir James Balfour who drew up the bond for the king's death, and who was a creature of Mait- land. It is proved that both Sir James Balfour and Archi bald Douglas sent powder for the purpose, and as we have seen, Morton was indicted for the same act. Now Archibald Douglas, on the dying testimony of his servants Binning and Gairner, in which they confess their own guilt, is proved to have gone out armed, with slippers on his feet, and a slipper known to be his was found ammg the ruins, Powrie in his confession says that a party of men " met Bothwell at the Cowgate with cloaks over their fnoes and slippers on their feet."* The papal nuncio, Archbishop of Mondovi, writes to the Grand Duke of Tus<^any information received from Moretta, • Strickland, ViM. 228 Mabt, Queen of Scots. Savoyard ambassador at Edinburg at the time, who ii of opinion that "this poor prince, Darnloy, hearing tb« noise of people about the house trying false keys tc open the outlets, rushed forth himself by a door tha opened into the gardens, in his shirt, without a pelisse to fly from the peril, and was there strangled, and waa brought out of the garden into a little orchard beyond the wall of the grounds: and then the fire blew up the house to slay all that were within as they conjecture, because the king was found dead, with his pelisse by his side; and some women whose sleeping-rooms adjoined the garden, affirm to have heard the king cry " Ah, my kins- men, have mercy upon me, for the love of Him who had mercy on us all !"* ^Eh! Fratelli miei, kabbiate pietd di me per amor di Colui che hehhe misericordia di tut to il mondo /" Now Archibald Douglas was a blood kinsman, Fratello, of Henry Darnley. And Morton says on his trial, " Mr. Archibald then after the deed was done, shewed me that he was at the deed-doing."f • Now mark the consequences of all this. The king was Lot blown up. Both well did nothing hit cause the explo- Bion ; consequently Bothwell, although willing to murder the king, did not actually do it Consequently in act he ia innocent of it. But Balfour and Douglas both sent pow. • L&banotr, vlL loa t Strickland, r. 157. Who were the Murderers? 229 der, and Douglas was at the doing of the deed. But both these iLen were dependents confessed of Morton and Mait- land, and therefore these were guilty of the king's murder and if guilty no other person was, least of all, Mary. Chapter XXI. The Game Advances. 1567. BoTHWELL had received his mock trial and had been acquitted. Guilty in soul and intention, he was still not guilty in deed of the king^s murder. But his astute employers desired to fix upon him the stigma of the act itself, and eventually he bore it. The poor bear, used by foxes and serpents for their own wily purposes. Lured on to take the credit of the explosion of Kirk in the Fields, and to fancy, inane that he was, that his poor powder strewed about the floor of the queen's chamber had dislo- cated the foundations twenty-eight feet below. Lured on to think that he had killed the king, and to be prosecuted for it by his employers, and to die for it, mad-raving, covered and begrimed with filth, howling out his grim, gaunt soul in the dark, black dungeons of Malmoe. But after a glance at the circumstances immediately following the king's murder, and not as yet noticed here, The Game Advances. 231 we musk find our waj back U Both well, through the tor birous intricacies of the "godly Regent's" deeds. Mary retired to Seton with her court upon the 9th of March, and theie sought, from devotion, the help that she could derive from no other source. Poor woman ! not yet twenty-five years old, betrayed by her people, twice a widow and without a friend. Anonymous placards were put up charging her with complicity in her husband's murder; the fishwives of Edinburg called out, as she passed, "God save and defend your grace if you are guiltless of the king's death." Murray, her brother, refused to remain and help her in spite of her entreaty and passionate weeping. Archbishop Beton writes: — "There is still some notable enterprize in hand against her, whereof I wish her to beware in time." The memories of Riccio's death and the red blood spouting on her garments were with her ; in her ears still rung the sound of that reverbe- rating roar which told to shuddering Scotland that the king was dead : the horizon swam in blood, clouded with sulphurous mists from bursting mines of powder. She had been forced by fear for her infant's life to send him from her to the strong castle of Stirling; her guards had mutinied foi pay and she was too poor to satisfy them ! What wonder that the English spy Drury writes to Cecil : — " She hath been for the most part either melan- choly or sickly since the murder, especially this week, she ofteD swooned. There will be hard work to furnish money 232 Mart, Queen of Scots. for domestic matters. She breaketh very much."* What could she do but go and fling herself, as he records, on the pavement before the altar of God, in the chapel at Seton, and there pour out her prayers for her dead husband's rest and for her own relief, all through the lone watches of the winter midnight and of the chill grey winter morning **The queen went on Friday night," says Drury, "with two gentlewomen with her into the chapel about eleven and tarried there till nearly three o'clock."f But Buchannan, whose memory is immortally infamous, writes thus of her while at Seton : — " BothwelPs apart roent was a place not altogether unfit to asswage their sorrows, for it was directly under the queen's chamber; and if any sudden qualm of grief should have happened to come over her heart, there was a pair of stairs wide enough for Both well to get up to comfort Aer."J From George Buchannan to James, Earl of Murray, is a natural step in tracing this road of abominations. The day before the king's assassination, the earl having seen that his plans were not likely to fail, took himself away according to his usual custom. He ever loved to prove an alihi. But this time he somewhat forgot hir natural astuteness in the demoniac joy arising from his cer- tamty of success, and, as he crossed the Fv^rth on the way to his strong citidel of St. Andrew's, he burst out to his Berrants, "This night, ere morning, Lord Darnley shall Jo«a • Strickland, v. Ibid. t. 204. X Det action. The Game Advances. 233 his life."* Was this the espirit of sacred prophecy Rud denly bestowed upon the godly earl ?" or was it rather the expression of his absolute assurance that his plot was too well formed to fail ? Be that as it may, the brave and noble Lord Herrios charged him with it bluntly at his own table, and grim silence was his only reply. The explosion over, the alibi established, he returns again to Edinburg. Not to assist his queenly sister, although besought with tears to do so, but to finish hih work in his own wily way, Mary writes three several times to Lennox, to urge his action in the prosecution of his son's murderers, and, though he replies in willing words, he acts but feebly. At length, however, James Hepburn, Earl of Both well, is for- mally accused and a day set for trial, April 11th. This done, Earl Murray returns to his place at the council board. Before the time arrives however, he invites Both- well with Maitland and others to dine with him, to meet the English Ambassador Killegrew,f and exhibits eyeiy external mark of friendship for him. By the 9th of April, he has the court prepared, and then he retires first to Berwick-on-Tweed, then to the English court and his dear friend Ehzabeth, and finally to France. In that realm, he BO concerts with the Huguenots and Catherine de Medicis, that all French aid to Mary is effectually prohibited.! So the trial of Earl Both well proceeds, of course without Mur • Tytler, li 9L t Strickland, v. 193. t ^^^^ V' 2«». 234 Mary, Queen of Sooxsr ray's knowledge, for was not that good noblenian in Eng land or in France ! April 11th, 1567; Lord Lennox refused to enter Edin- burg because he feared the power of Both well ; the latter went boldly before the court, heard his arraignment, pleaded aot guilty, and was solemnly acquitted. The cour* was composed as follows: — Earl of Argyle, President. Associates, Lord Lindsay^ whom we first saw raging through the streets on the first Sunday of the queen's arrival, with drawn sword, threatening her "idolater priest" with death; whom we next beheld plunging his dagger into the shrinking body of Riccio, whom we shall soon see crushinof the white arm of his imprisoned mistress in his fierce gauntleted gripe. Robert Pitcaim Protestant Abbot of Dumferline ; and McGill and Balnaves, lords of session. These men were simply the absolute tools of Murray. Now, their business was to acquit Bothwell, upon their honors, of the murder of the king. Soon after, the busi- ness of the same hur men, with the noble addition of George Buchannan, was to accuse Bothwell, always on their honors, of the murder of the king. They did botk according to the directions of their master. A decree of parliament was easily obtained the next day, declaring the judgment good and Bothwell guiltless of this crime at least. That generous nobleman could oi course do no less than celebrate his triumph by a feast at The Game Advances 235 Ainslie^s Tavern, whereto all the good gentleraen his friends were invited. He gave them, doubtless, a fine spread ; they confess to abundance of rich wines, and they all drank freely and were grateful to their hospitable enter- tainer. So grateful indeed were they, that they gave him a document, unto the following remarkable extracts from which I most earnestly entreat my readers' particular attention. The entire paper will be found in the notes to Aytoun's Bothwell. It sets forth — " That he, Bothwell, has omitted nothing for the perfect trial of his accusation, that anv nobleman of honor, or bv the laws, ought to underlie or accomplish." Then his services are rehearsed and praised, and the bond continues. "We therefore oblige us, and each one of us, upon our Faith and Honors, and Truth in our bodies, as we are Xoblemen, and will answer to God, that in case hereafter any manner of person or persons, in whatsoever manner, shall happen to insist further to the slander and calumnio' tion of the said Earl of Bothwell, as participant, Art or Part, of the said heinous murder, whereof ordinary Justice has acquitted him, and for which he has offered to do hia Devoir by the Law of Arms in manner above rehearsed ; we, and every one of us, by ourselves, our kin, friends, assisters, partakers, and all that will do for us, shall take true, honest, plain and upright Part with him, to the Defence and Maintenance of his Quarrel, with our bodieaj 236 Mary, Queen of Scots. heritage, and goods, against his private or public calumnia- tors, byepast or to come, or any others presuming anything in Word or Deed to his Keproach, Dishonour, or Infamy, Moreover, weighing and considering the time present, and how our Sovereign the Queen's Majesty is now destitute f a Husband, in the which solitary state the Common- weal of this Realme may not permit her Highness to continue and endure, but at some time her Highness in appearance may be inclined to yield into a Marriage ; and therefore, in case the former affectionate and hearty seiTice of the said Earl done to her Majesty from time to time, and his other good Qualities and Behaviour, may move her Majesty so far to humble herself, as, preferring one of her native born subjects unto all foreign Princes, to take to Husband the said Earl, We and every one of ua undersubscribing, upon our Honours, and Fidelity, oblige us and promise, not only to further^ advance^ and set forward the Marriage to be solemnised and completed betwixt her Highness and the said Noble Lord, with our Votes, Counsel, Fortification, and Assistance in Word and Deed, at such time as it shall please her Majesty to think i*: convenient, and how soon the Laws shall leave it to be done ; but in case any should presume directly or indirectly, openly, or under whatsoever Colour or Pre- tence, to hinder, hold back, or disturb the said Marriage, we shall, in that behalf, esteem, hold, and repute the Hinderers, Adversaries, or Disturbers thereof, as our com- The Game Advances. 237 mon Enemies and evil Willers; and notwithstanding the tame, take part and fortify the said Earl to the said Mar- riage, so far as it may please our Sovereio^n L..dy to allow and therein shall spend and bestow oui Lives and Goods against all that live or die may, as we shall answer to God, and upon our own Fidelities and Conscience ; and in case we do to the contrary, never to have Reputation or Credit in no Time hereafter, but to be accounted unworthy and faithless traitors. In Witness whereof, we have subscribed these presents, as follows, at Edinburgh, the 19th day of April, the year of God 1567 years." Signed by nine earls and eleven barons. The first name on the list of signers is that of James, Earl of Murray. The authenticity of Murray's signature, as well as that of the so-called consent of the queen, will be discussed in the next chapter. The bond was given to Both well on the 19th of April, 1567, and thus fortified, he gave full freedom to the dreams of his ambition. The queen was at Seton on the 19th, where, as we have already mentioned, her guards mutinied for pay and were satisfied by Bothwell, April 20th. On the 2nd, she set out for Stirling to see her son ; and even this was destined to add a new pang to her already ahnost intolerable sufferings. When she advanced to meet the infant, he did not know her, but turned away frightened and crying, to hide his face in his nurse's bosom. The 238 Mary, Queen of Scots. poor mother took an apple from her pocket and died to allure her babe ; but when he saw the tall figure, the pal- lid, sad, emaciated face, all wrapped in gloomy folds of black funereal crape, he would not come to her and it took Bome time to reconcile him. Is not this scene mournful enough to touch any human heart? See how it touches Drury, Elizabeth's base spy. He says that she attempted, thus openly, to poison her only child ! " She took an apple out of her pocket and offered it, but it would not be received of him; but the nurse took it, and to a greyhound bitch, having whelps, was it thrown. She ate it ; she and her whelps died presently ^"^^ Now look upon this picture and on that ! The crape- enshrouded widow trying to woo the caresses of her pee'vish infant. Or if you like it better, the fierce Medea, after a journey of thirty-one miles, trying publicly to poison he" baby with the picturesque adjunct of a hdy - grey houn I fating an apple ! After reducing the mutinous guaids, Bothwell, strong as Shylock in his bond, faintly suggested marriage to the queen ; and his suggestion was repulsed. He therefore fell back upon his old plans, and put them into execution. What he did was beforehand known to and approved by "our loving sister And cousin," "good Queen Bess.^'f Drury writes, " the Earl Bothwell hath gathered many • StiiekUmd, ?. 884 t iMd. ?. m. The Game Advancjes. 239 of Lis friends very well provided, same say to ride intd Liddesdale, but there is feared some other purpose wliich he intendetb rxiuch ditferent from that, of the which I believe I shortly shall he able to advertise more tertainly. He hath furnished Dunbar Castle with all necessary provisions, as well of victuals as other thing forcible." So on the morning of April 23d, Mary Stuart lett hei boy and her royal castle of Stirling, never to see either again. She had gone but four miles when she was taken suddenly ill, perhaps with one of those swoons recorded by Drury, and was obliged to rest some time in a cottage by the roadside ere she was able to resume her saddle. She reached Linlithgow, v/here she slept, and in the morning proceeded towards Edinburg. Her retinue was composed of a dozen persons only. They had nearly reached Edinburg, indeed were within a mile of it, in a sort of suburb called Foulbriggs, when Both well met her at the head of one thousand horsemen* Without a word, he and his men swept upon the little troop, overpowered and disarmed them, and the ruffian earl himself, seizLig Queen Mary's bridle rein, turned her palfrey and galloped rapidly to his previously fortified and pro- visioned castle of Dunbar. With her, Huntley, Maitland and Sir James Melville were made prisoners. As Bothweil ?aught the rein, he told her quickly that she was in immv 240 Mary, Queen of Scots. nent danger, and besought lier for her own sake to permit him to guide her to some strong post in his power.* Then after a ride of thirty-one miles to Stirling, a night devoted to her boy and to what poor rest her grief per- mitted her ; after fainting by the roadside and reposing, if she could, at Linlithgow, she was compelled by this brutal soldier to ride more than thirty miles asfain to the bleak north sea coast. His troops were dismissed by Both well, with orders to hold themselves in readiness for any emergency, and a boast from him that he would marry the queen in spite of all the world — "yea, whether she would herself or no/."f All the queen's ladies were dismissed and no attendance allowed her save that of Lady Cunningham, sister of her ravisher. No effort was made to rescue her by the nobles, even by the friends and party of her own brother, but the people of the city rose in a body and would have followed her and stormed Dunbar, had not the conspirators caused the gates to be closed and the guns of the castle to ba pointed on the town. Powerless, friendless, unattended, Mary remained twelve days a captive in Dunbar, while the plot for her dethrone* ment and destruction went on towards its successful denouei ment. Ik)thwell, it will be remembered, was a married man • Lfibaooff, yVLm, t BUicklond. v. 243^ The Game Advances. 241 but he had concerted a project of divorce with his wife, giving \ier a whole village for her compliance. She accused him of adultery with Bessie Crawford, one of her •ervants. and obtained from the Presbyterian Court of Kirk Sessions a divorce with permission to remarry. Then from Dunbar the queen was brought to Edinburg and confined in the castle. The abductor had wooed her and met 'vvith contempt; he produced the bond of the nobles in his favor, but it gained him no better advantage ; but she was completely and hopelessly in the power of an unscrupulous and unmitigated rufiian, who had sworn that she should marry him with or without her consent. Finally, he used physical force and committed upon his sovereign the greatest outrage that woman can suffer. Her heart was broken, her courage destroyed, no help from man was near, her dignity and her person had suffered the extremest insults, and now even her pride for- sook her and she remained a passive victim in his power. Meantime he procured a second bond from several of the lords in urgent recommendation of the marriage,^ and on the 8th of May he ordered the banns of marriage to be read at St Giles. The honest parish olerk positively refused to read them, and he then had recourse to the minister Mr. Craig. This gentleman required to be cer- tified of the queen's assent, and not receiving it, also refiised to read them. The next day however, Sir John ♦ Strickland, v. 22B. n 242 Mary, Queen of Scots, Bellenden, Justice Olerk, brought her consent, however it was obtained, and the honest minister published the banns with great reluctance and with a solemn protest against the marriage. Furthermore, when called before the council to account for his protest, this brave man repeated it, and then and there charged Both well to his face with adultery, with procuring a divorce by collusion with his wife, with murdering the king and with ravishing his queen.* And now the poor ladv, utterly at his mercy, resigned herself passively to his will. She declared her assent to the marriage ; created him Duke of Orkney; pardoned the nobles who had signed the nefarious bond, and on the 14th of May in bridal robes of black crape she was married by Adam Bothwell, the Protestant Bishop of Orkney assisted by Mr. Craig. No gorgeous display was here ; no pomps nor pageants; no wine ran in the fountains; no jubilant bonfires illumined the heathy hill-tops — no banquets nor dancings followed the consummation of this mournful sacrifice, but all was gloom and silence, and men waited in dismal foreboding; for what should happen next. As for Mary, " she was the most changed woman in face that her courtiers had seen.f Her people told du Croc, the French ambassador, " that unless God aided her, they feared she would become desperate," and " she herself told him in Bothwell's presence not to be surprised to see het • McCric's Life of Knox. 254. t StrickUod, v. m. The Game Advances. 24S sorrowful," for that " she could not rejoice, nor ever should again. All she desired wan death."^^^ That also shalt thou have poor lady, but not yet. Thus have I endeavored to tell in truth and simpleness the history of this horrible marriage. In the next chapter I shall endeavor to prove the exact correctness of all the foregoing statements, as well as that Mary was but a suffering and helpless victim, and Both well but a brutal tool in the hands of James, Earl of Murray and his fellow- conspirators, * Labanofi; vli 111. Chapter XXIIL The Last Card is Played. 1567. Mary Stuart was accused by Murray and Lis fellow- conspirators of loving Bothwell, procuring the removal of her husband by death, and forming with the earl the plan of her own abduction. These accusations have been revamped by Robertson, McCrie and others. They rest for proof solely upon the " Silvergilt Casket Letters " and other papers already discussed. I have done what I could to show the worthlessness of those papers, and will repeat nothing here. But I have one point to add. Mary Stuart left Edinburg on the 22d of April; rode thirty-one miles on horseback to Stirling ; visited her child »nd slept there. The next morning she returned as far aa Linlithgow where she passed the night. The next day she was seized by BothwelL But several days before, Drury knew that Bothwell had fortified Dunbar and had a troop of 1000 men ready foi The Last Card Played. 245 lome desperate enterprise ; which was, as the result shows to carry off the queen.* This being true, if in complicity with Both well, she did not write (as Maitland, Murray and Morton swear upon their honors she did) letters VI., VIL and VIIL, which contain nothing but entreaties to be informed of the when^ where and how he intends to abduct her.f Putting aside the improbability of a delicate woman m extremely ill health, after a horseback ride of thirty- one miles, sitting up all night to write three letters on the same subject and of her getting a messenger to carry them thirty-one miles and back, the mere fact that Both well's plan had been matured for days and that she, if guilty, must have known it, is a suflScient proof that she never wrote those letters at all. But Maitland, who was with her at Stirling, and was cap- tured with her at Foulbriggs, swears on his honor that write them she did. He was with her yet does not say he knew of her writing them at the time: nay, must have been igno- rant of it inasmuch as one of those choice epistles oega Bothwell to "persuade the lords as much as he can," and particularly "to say many fair words to Ledington."J These words appear to me another proof that Maitland of Lethington was himself the author of the letters, and ♦ See page 239. Vide also this work, p. 246. t Buchannan's Detection, 146-182. % 'bid. lid. 246 Mary, Queen of Scoxg. that he mentioned himself in them, to show that he had no part in nor knowledge of BothwelPs plan. She saw Bothwell on the night of the 20th when he pacified the mutinous guards. Most probably she saw him on the morning of the 21st when she left Edinburg, yet although she had formed with him a plot for her abduction, she goes thirty-one miles away from him for the express purposes of writing three letters to him that night for information about it, of attempting to poison her child and of teaching greyhound whelps to eat apples ! So much for the evidence against her. Let us look on the other side, and first of all hear Mary Stuart's own version of the whole story ; for, in these cases, women are permitted, in every court, to testify for themselves. I quote from her instructions to the Bishop of Dunblane to explain her marriage to the court of France. After a noble recognition of Both well's past services, she proceeds : — " Of late, since the decease of the king our husband, his pretensions began to be higher, we found his proceed- ings rather strange. Aloeit now since we have so far proceeded with him that we must interpret all things for the best, yet we have been highly oflfended ; first with hii presumption in thinking that we could not sufficiently reward him, unless we should give ourselves to him ifl recompense of his services ; next for his practices anrf lecret means, and at length the plain attempt to get us h The Last Card Flayed. 247 f(yrce into his power for fear of being disappointed of his purposes.'* She then rehearses her own kindness and acts of grati tude towards him, exhibits her full knowledge of the language of the nobles' bond, and continues : — "The same (the bond) being once obtained, he began afar off to discover his intention to us, and to try by humble suit to purchase our good will ; but finding out answer nothing correspondent with his desires, etc., etc., h«s resolved to follow his fortune, and laying aside all respect, either to lose all in an hour or to bring to pass what ho had taken in hand." Then she mentions his assault at Foulbrigg's, his carry- ing her to Dunbar ; his humble but unceasing urgency of his desire, and his plea of faithful services, and " when he found her like to reject all his suit and offers^^ his pro* duction of the bond. She speaks of her complete lone- liness in his power, " never any man in Scotland making any attempt to procure our deliverance, and finally tells how he partly extorted and partly obtained our promise to take him to our husband, and yet, not content therewith, fear- ing ever some alteration, he w^ould not be satisfied with all the just reasons we could allege to have the consumma- tion of the marriage delayed * * * but as by bravado in the beginning he had won his first point, so ceased he never until by persuasions and importunate suit, acconipa^ 248 Mary, Queen of Scots. nud jwt the less with force^ lie has finally driven us ia end the work.''* And again in her instructions to Ridolfi, sent by her to the Pope, the King of Spain and the Duke of Alva: "You shall declare to his Holiness our great grief at being made prisoner by one of our subjects, the Earl Bothwell, and carried captive with the Earl of Huntley and Livingston our secretary to the castle of Dunbar, and thence to Edinburor Castle, where we were retained aoaiml our will in the hands of the said Earl, until he could obtain a divorce from his wife, a sister of Lord Huntley and our own near relative, and compel us to give our promise, /till against our will^ to him. Therefore I implore his Holiness to take such order in this matter, that we may be relieved from this indignity by means of a process at Rome, or by a commission ordered in Scotland, to all the Bishops and other Catholic judges as may seem best to his Holi- ness."f Here we see two documents full of Mary Stuart's gentle* ness and delicacy, even in describing as infamous ai? outrage as ever reckless ruffian perpetrated on this earth. Others are plainer in their statements. In the Archivei of the Medicis in Florence, is found a contemporary Jccu- ment addressed to all Christian kings and princes. That also declares how Bothwell ''one day as the qu^n was j * Labanofif, ii 82, et eeq. + Labanoff. iu. 28L The Last Card Plated. 249 Beying, almost alone, to visit her son, assaulted her on tha highway with many of his friends, and with good worda and declarations that her Majesty was in iminent danger, {grandisimo 2}ericolo)^ carried her off to one of his castles.'^* Mr. Craig, the honest minister of St. Giles, accused the rude Earl openly of carrying off and ravishing the queen, and asserted also that such was the public opinion. Read next the act of Parliament for BothwelPs attain- der, December 20, 1567, framed by McGill who afterwards accused her, and passed under the presidency of the Regent Murray, attended by Morton, Maitland and the rest of the conspirators. These men declare by solemn act of the Three Estates of Scotland, in the name of King James VI., that Both well "did most treasonably intercept the most noble person of our m.ost illustrious mother, Mary, Queen of Scots, on her way from Linlithgow, to the town ot Edinburg near the bridges vulgarly called Foulbriggis, besetting her with a thousand armed men, equipped in manner of war, fehe suspecting no evil from any of her subjects, and least of all from the Earl of Both well. He by force and violence treasonably seized her most noble person, put violent handt upon her, not permitting her to enter her own town of Edmburg in peace, but carried her away that same night to the castle of Dunbar against her will and there detained her as his prisoner for about twelve days."f • Labanoff, vlL 311. t Strickland v. 242. 250 MakYj Queek of Scots. Huntley, Maitland, Sir James Melville and otliers, wh« were captured with her, assisted in the passage of this act Sir James Melville says "The Queen could not hU fiiarry Bothwell after what had occurred against her will^ adding, says Mrs. Strickland, " words too explicit to hi repeated here, plainly indicating that it was amongst the erroneous notions of that age that injuries of tliat nature might be repaired by marriage."* Finally, the very rebels self-styled " Lords of the Secret Council," who made Murray Regent, who immured her in Lochleven Castle, these very lords in their own proclama- tion declare that Bothwell " intercepted her Maj^ty, car- rried her forcibly away, compelled her to marry him, and kept her under restraint." And again in their letter to Elizabeth's ambassador Throckmorton, "The Queen our Sovereign, was shamefully led captive, and by fear, force and, as by many conjectures be well suspected, other extra- ordinary and unlawful means compelledP\ Mrs. Strickland, to whom we are again indebted, refraini from motives of delicacy from quoting any further, the language which explains the horrid unmanly outrage " in the most positive words and homely phraseology ."J Thus is Queen Mary proved not only guiltless of any com- plicity with Bdthwell, but that she was the victim of fiend iah outrage by her whole past life, by the calm serenity of • Strickland, v. TO. t Ibid. v. 324 ; It is given in Lingard, 75. Xote. The LAbT Card Played. 251 • hei holy death, by her own impassionate assei'tion ; by the Italian contemporary writer ; by the minister who marrit/ her; by the public opinion of the day; by the proclama- tion and official letters of the very rebels who dethroned her, and by solemn act of the Parliament of Scotlan'.l, held under Murray's Regency. And the only evidences against her are the assertions and forged papers of Murray, Maitland, Morton and McGill, who swear to Elizabeth's commissioners, that they possessed those damning proofs of her guilt six monthn before they passed the act of Parliament declaring her tho spotless victim of unexampled brutality. I do not believe that Both well, in spite of his services, which were indeed meritorious and distinguished, would ever have so far presumed had he not been goaded on by Murray and his accomplices. Leslie, Bishop of Ross, expressly asserts it: "Why did you. Earl of Murray, with a great number of the nobility, move further and work the said marriage as most meet and necessary for your queen ! Why did you, as hy your handwriting it will appear^ prof- fer and promise to him your faithful service ?"* The answer is a simple one. Because he saw that such marriage would destroy her. For he had plotted Darnley'i murder, and used Bothwell as a tool. He could at any time convict that nobleman of the crime; but to do sd • Tytler, n. 141 252 Mary, Queek of Scots. would be to make him infamous, render his marriage with Mary impossible, and so her destruction would be more difficult. Therefore he acquitted Bothwell, induced the marriage, accused both, drove one into exile, immured the other in prison, and attained the object of his whole life's yearning desire, the throne of Scotland. The original of this Bond of the Nobles" is lost ; but two copies are extant, one in the Cottonian Library, and the other in the Scottish College, Paris. The former bears Murray's name, and is attested by John Reade, servitour and writour to Mr. George Buchannan. " The latter does not bear Murray's name, and is attested by Sir James Bal- four, murderer of Darnley, discoverer of the * ' Silver Casket Letters" and tool of Regent Murray. Number one is de- clared by Cecil to have been presented to him by Lething- ton, Buchannan and Read, as evidence against Mary, in 1568.* Number two does not see the light until Morton quarrels with Balfour, in 1581. If Balfour's copy does not bear the name of Murray, neither does it bear those of Glen- cairn, Lindsay, nor, we may be sure. Sir James Balfour ! The merits of both as pieces of testimony being equal, compare the probabilities of correctness. One is brought to light fourteen years after its date, by a signer of it, an accomplice of Murray's faction, the acknowledged murderer of Darnley and finder of the silver casket, and is used as ♦ Tytier, ii. 108. The Last Card Played. 253 evidence against another accomplice, the then Regent, Ear. of Morton. The other is produced as evidence against Queen Mary, by Murray and his commissioners, Morton and Lynd- Bay, Maitland, Buchannan, Balnaves and McGill; is attested by Buchannan's own secretary, John Reade, and is offered before Queen Elizabeth, and with the rest of their docu- ments thrown out. This then is likeliest to be the true copy ; this, which bears Murray's signature; and this likelihood is corrobo- rated by Bishop Leslie's contemporaneous accusation quoted above ; by the assertion of the loyal nobility, some €>{ whom were repentant signers of the bond by the fact that Morton, Maitland and the rest did nothing without iheir master Murray ; by the fact that Murray was the public prosecutor of his sister; by the fact that this copy with his signature was given in, by his commissioners as evidence on such prosecution, and by the certainty that the wily Cecil would not entertain the idea of such a eneasure, if it were unsanctioned by the most powerful man m Scotland, the regent of that kinofdom. On the other hand, the only things against his signature are that his accomplice and tool did not betray him after 3 silence of fourteen years; and what, to my great amaze- nent, satisfies Mr. Aytoun, that he, Murray, could not have ugned it because he was in France ! Just Heaven ! Why Dick Turpin himself was but a pupil of this man in the 254 Mary, Queen of Scots. science of proving an alibi. He was absent from Edinbarg also when Riccio was killed. He was in Fifeshire when Darnley was murdered. He was with Elizabeth when Bothwell was tried. He was abroad when the queen wai seized and himself proclaimed regent. Therefore, how could those guileless innocent fingers sign the bond when he was in France ? One other precious document must here be mentioned, as it is by Cecil, no less a matter than a regular " warrant from the Queen of Scots, giving them license to sign the bond," before they did so.* Now, although this paper was never produced in evi- dence, but only privately shown to Cecil, yet Buchannan^ and Robertson, and McCrie — the first, fourteen years after- wards, and the other two. a couple of centuries after— railed up the wretched forgery, and use as if a piece of evi- dence then and there accepted against Mary Stuart ! Yet the same authorities inform us, as does the truth also in this case, that the nobles afterwards craved and obtained her pardon for signing this bond. Asked and got pardon for doing what they had her own express war- rant and commission to do ! And now I have done with the evidence in this loatL- Bome conspiracy. I have treated it as laboriously, honestly and fairly as my powers have permitted me. At all events, I have done with it. • Tytler, n. lOfiL The Last Card Plated. 255 The plot has thus far succeeded. There is but one more card to play, and then the trick will be won. Away with you, James, Earl of Murray ; go hide yourself deep in the heart of France ; establish your alibi, and then you shall dome back to us, the " Godly Regent of Scotland. 4 Chapter XXIIL The Trick is Won. June i6th, 1567. The venerable and noble statesman du Croc, who had been the friend of Mary of Lorraine, was still at the court of her daughter as ambassador from Charles the Ninth , and to his most respectable testimony we are indebted principally for the ensuing narrative. He had refused to attend the miserable wedding, the marriage feast of the wolf and the lamb, but he called upon the mournful queen on the same day. Already he saw by her manner that she was no willing bride. She begged him to excuse her sadness, telling him that she could not ever again rejoice, that her only hope was the rest and untroubled silence of the grave. The day before, when in a cabinet alone with Both well, she was heard to shriek, nay, in her despair, to cry out for a dagger* that ibe might end her own unhappy life, and the shuddering • Labanoff, viL lit The Trick is Won. 251 hearers thought that " if God did not soon aid her she would perish desperately." The conduct of her brutal husband was what might have been expected from him. " Already is the princesfi treated so badly and with such contempt, that I," says Sir James Melville, " heard her one day, in Arthur Erskine'a presence, ask for a poignard to stab herself, and threatening even to fling herself from the window."* To win, if possible, the good will of the Congregation, Bothwell procured the revocation of her Act of Religious Toleration, the first ever passed in Europe, and made non- conformity to the worship and doctrines of the new religion severely penal. No one was allowed access to her except through lines of his armed followers and by express permis- sion from himself. In public, when he compelled her to appear with him, she was constantly surrounded by his guardsmen. " He was so beastly and suspicious," says Melville, " that he suffered not to pass a single day with- out causing her to shed abundance of salt tears."f Even traitor Maitland bears witness to this, for he told du Croo " that, from the day after her nuptials she had never ceased from tears and lamentations, and that Bothwell would not allow^ her to see any one, nor any one to see her."J He refused to let her go to Stirling to see her son, unless accompanied by himself with a strong force, and this, of course. Earl Mar the prince's guardian, would not allow, ♦ Labanoff, il. 30. Strickland, v. 263. $ Ibid. 807. 258 Mart, Queen or Scots. He and .he queen both knew Both well's desire to get poft session of James, and she, prisoner as she was, found means to send Bishop Lesley to Stirling, with earnest injunctions to Mar never to yield her boy to any other hands than hex owr. Nor were these all her sorrows. Du Croc told her that Murray was not in France at all, as she supposed, but in England "plotting with the council, little to her good."* She knew that Sir Robert Melville, her ambassador in England, was her secret enemy : that Morton had retired from the capital to work out some new evil. Already had the conspirators purchased Sir James Balfour, captain of Edinburg castle, and he was ready at the first summons to give that fortress up to them. Maitland the crafty still spun his webs and lay in wait beside her until Both well quar* relied with him ; for that brute drew his dagger on the Mcretaij and would have slai:i him on the spot, had she not ihrown herself with characteristic bravery before the uplifted weapon. And thus did Mary Stuart save the li/i William Maitland of Lethington at the imminent risk of her own. And Maitland paid her for it! with the same coin he paid her that George Buchannan had used to recompense the like service, to wit, with dethronement and captivity, a broken heart and a bloody death. And next, James Hepburn dismissed from her lemM • Strickland, v. 261 The Teick is Won, 259 Aie Couutess of Buccleugh and Lady Re res and they railed riolently against him and the queen. He dismissed Lady Reres, who, George Buchannan says, had been at first his mistress, then his procuress and iVen his go-between with Mary. Dismissed her and she railed angrily in word and writing against her royal mistress, but not one syllable about the " Silver Casket Letters," not one insinuation how- ever slight of any sin between Queen Mary and Earl Both- well.* No wonder that the terrible fainting fits came on again and that all who saw her marvelled at her altered and crushed appearance. But now it is time for James Stuart, Earl of Murray, be he in England with Elizabeth or plotting with the Hugue- nots in France, to pull the wires and to set his puppets in motion for the last grand scene. In vain did Bothwell frequent the sermons of the ministers; they distrusted him only the more. In vain did he devise pageants for the people and drag his poor captive, surrounded by a guard, to witness them ; the peo- ple only hated him the more. In vain did he cause her to make a proclamation, demanding troops to put down an insurrection on the Borders; the people refused to rise and the nobles would not follow him, Lord Warden and Lieu- tenant though he were. Then Morton began the play. Having, as we said above, • Strickland, v. 965. 260 Mart, Queen of Scots. purchased Sir James Balfour,* he raised a force, and pre- pared to march to Edinburg and seize on Bothwell and Queen Mary ; Bothwell, however, fearing some such deed, retired to Borthwick Castle, an immensely powerful fast- ness, twelve miles southeast of Edinburg, dragging hia prisoner with him. This was on June the 7th. The next day Morton, at the head of the rebels, marched to besiege this castle, and as the line of advancing lances began to glimmer in the distance. Lord Bothwell bade his castellan make good resistance, and fled himself out of a postern door. Ere nightfall, Borthwick was beleaguered by twelve hundred spears, but the walls were high and strong. So after shouting insults to their sovereign, they fell back to Dalkeith. The gaoler had fled ; his people, though devoted to his interests dared not to intrude themselves upon Queen Mary's privacy ; she was released from his odious presence, and once more the royal soul awoke within her and she resolved to attempt her freedom, and to throw herself upon the loyalty of her people. She wrote to Sir James Balfour, ordering hira to fire on iiae rebels if they should enter Edinburg, and then when the inmates of the castle had sunk to slumber, in the mirk midnight, she arose, dressed herself fully in cavalier's attirei, ♦ For the bond given to this ^Tetch by Morton and others, In full, vfde Strielt land, T. 269. The Trick is Won. 26j •purred boots and plamed cbapeau, stole from ner room and down the turret stairs, into the dining hall ; thence through A window, she lowered herself down twenty-eight feet tc the ground, passed through the postern door, seized on a trooper's horse, kept there in readiness for service, and bravely leaping on his back rode forth alone into the dim night, through swamps and tracts of whitethorn, whereso- ever it might please God to guide her. But she was not thus to be free. She had a gloomy future before her, and she must dree her weird." She was entirely ignorant of the neighborhood, and perhaps the night was dark. She must have ridden round and round for weary hours, for she had only gained two miles from Berth wick, when, in the grey of the misty dawn, she rode suddenly out of the shadows into the midst of a band of troopers and the presence of Bothwell. For the second time he carried her to his own strong fortress of Dunbar. June 11. — The conspirators enter Edinburg, and publish a proclamation stating that the queen having been forcibly carried away prisoner by Bothwell, they have appointed a secret council to govern the realm and take measures for her deliverance. June 12. — They issue the proclamation on page 249, accusing Bothwell of the murder of Darnley, of the forci- ble abduction of the queen, and of having violently com- pelled hei to espouse him. 862 Mart Queen of Scots June 14. — Both well has succeeded in raising twenty-fivi nundred raen, and with the queen, Le marches from Dunbar. Morton, at the head of three thousand^ well armed troops, issues from Edinburg, and the fees meet face to face on the 15 th, at Car berry Hill, five miles from Edinburg, near the disastrous field of Pinkie.* The armies thus fronted each other until the afternoon, neither being particularly desirous to engage : indeed not being very sure what they were to fight about. The insur- gents declared themselves in arms to avenge the death of King Henry Darnley, punish his murderer and deliver their sovereign. Bothwell's men, on the other hand, if except his own feudal retainers, had little stomach for the fray. Some of them " were informed of the many indig nities put upon Mary, by the Earl of Both well since their marriage. Part of his own company detested him, other part of them believed that her Majesty would fain have been quit of him, but thought shame to be the doer of the deed directly herselff Mary had persuaded Monsieur du Croc to go and treat with the insurgents. On the 12th he met Earls Mor- ton and Mar, Lords Hume, Lyndsay and Sempill and endeavored to bring them to some composition ; urging the absurdity of their proclaiming Bothwell a murderer and ravisher when they themselves had acquitte^l him on trial, and given him a bond testifying to his innocence att' ♦ Fitf« page 83. t MeMlle in A3rtona, flSB. The Tkiok is Won. 263 urging his marriage with the queen. Of course it was not their object to listen to sense however, and the ambassador retired in disofust.* He was with Bothwell's troops however, on the 15th, and there urged the queen to prevent any engagement if possible, telling her that the insurgent lords declared them selves her bumble and loyal subjects ; but demanded that she should at once quit Bothwell. To that noble's question of what the lords wanted, du Croc replied that they were the queen's humble servants, but his, Bothwell's, inveterate foes. Then the rude noble- man, who at least was not a coward, begged the French- man to carry his cartel into the enemies' camp, proposing "X) settle the question by single combat. This however appeared absurd to the aged statesman and he refused to be the bearer of the message. Again he returned to the rebels, and told them that the queen was ready to forgive them if they would submit. Their answer was to put on their helmets and barrett-caps, and begged him to leave the field before the battle joined. Meanwhile, Sir William Kirkaldy of Grange was riding about, trying, it seemed, to cut off Bothwell's passage to Dunbar. Mary saw and sent for him to come to her. He came but only to renew assurances of respect for her if she would but quit Bothwell. That ruffian tried to have him ahot by a soldier, but the queen overheard the directions * See du Oroc^i narrative in ftill, Labanoff, vlL 113. 264 Maky, Queen of Scots. Mid indignantly forbade the deed. Kirkaldy offered to pccept the challenge, but Bothweli refused, saying he, Kir^ kaldy, was neither earl nor lord and therefore not his peer. He refused the Laird of TuUibardine on the same grounds. He was crazy to fight Morton, but that worthy had not the slightest intention of getting within the reach of such an arm as BothwelPs. At last, as big a rufKan aa himself was proposed and accepted. This was Lord Lyudsay, the hunter of " idolatrous priests but while they were arranging the preliminaries of the fight, the queen sent again for Grange and offered to yield to the lords, if she might trust their words. He went back to his camp and came again with renewed assurances of loyalty and respect " in all their united names." Bothweli entreated her not to trust the rebels ; to await the issue of the single combat ; to fly with him to Dnnbar, But she was weary of the infamy and agony of his company, refused his request and ordered him to retire to his castle, where she would write to him what course he should pursue. So here, mounted on his fierce, black charger, his soul full ot hate and useless fury, mad with disappointed ambition and baffled schemes of power, James Hepburn, Earl of Bothweli and Duke of Orkney rides forth, away from the presence of his victim, wife and q leen and dis- appears forever from these pages. First to Dunbar not there to rest but to fling himself The Trick is Won. 265 ink' a l\\ik, and sail madly northward through the fretful •ear. ; v^o.vstir-.g the bleak, extreme capes of Scotland to the Orknevs. There to be denied entrance into his own castle, ai d to go furious, full of wrathful anguish to Denmark. Then iVe grimy dungeon, where the salt sea oozed through the walls and, trickling damply down the pale green mould, covered the floor with bitter slime ; and thence, picking the accumulated filth of years from hia gaunt body and howling out vain curses, to await for tho end ; for the time when his blood-stained soul should go forth over the dark and icy shores of death to its utterly hopeless eternity. " Laird of Grange," said Mary, Queen of Scots, " I render me unto you upon the conditions you rehearsed to me in the names of the lords." She extended her hand and he knelt down on the field and kissed it. Then, when she was got to horseback, he mounted his own strong war-horse and holding his steel cap high above his head, preceded her down the hill. If she would but abandon him who was her husband's murderer, the rebel lords declared that they would love and serve her fa- 'hfully and well. Well she has done so ; let us see now how they kee; fiaith. There are the sons of the Douglas the and Ruthvco, who shed their blood like water for her heroic ancestoi 12 266 Maey, Quken of Scots. Robert Bruce ; how will they treat his cliild and repro« tentative ? A short tirae will tell. At the hillfoot Morton advanced to meet her, and she addressed to him and his colleagues these words : " My lords, I am come to you, not out of any fear I had for my life, nor yet doubting of the victory if matters had come to the worst, but to save the effusion of Christian blood; and therefore have I come to you, trusting in your pro- mises that you will respect me and give me the obedience due to your native queen and lawful sovereign."* Then Morton, " with great reverence replied, " Madam, here is the place where your grace should be ; and we will honor, serve and obey you as ever the nobility of this realm did any of your progenitors before."f But scarcely had the black hypocrite thus spoken when the already prepared coarse cries broke out, " Burn her ! burn the murderess !" She was not frightened, but turning to him, asked " What is your purpose, my Lord of Morton ? If it be the blood of your princess you desire, take it ! I am here to offer it, nor need you other means to seek to be revenged." " Then," says the same authority, " the earl took her and committed her to safe custody. "J She was led before the banner they had prepared for the occasion, and which bore the likeness of Darnley lying dead beneath a tree, with the young James kneeling with clasped hands beside it, and praying "Judge and aveng€ • StriiOkUiid, T. 289. t Chalmers, !. 167. % Strickland, t. 201. The Trick is Won. 267 our cause, 0 Lord !" Behind this was she marched into Edinburg, the brutal troopers reviling her as she went, until restrained by the drawn sword of Kirkaldy. Some- times she almost swooned with anguish ; sometimes shed torrents of irrepressible tears, and at other moments broke out into fits of unavailing anger, threatening the traitors with her vengeance. Her vengeance, poor power- less, broken-hearted woman. The base mob hooted as she passed along the streets tc her first lodgings in the Provost's house, the common prison of Edinburg, but the better part of the citizens, aroused by her cries, would have stormed the house and rescued her, if she had not been persuaded to pacify them. When the night fell, preceded by the horrible banner and guarded by twelre hundred men, she was conducted to Holyrood ; and at midnight she was delivered into the hands of Lord Patrick Lyndsay, the remorseless and fanatic ruflSan, and of Lord Ruthven, brutal and drunken stabber of David Riccio, and by them carried over the dark wave* of the Frith of Forth to where the castle of the Douglaa frowned grimly over the deep waters of Lochleven.* It w^as held by the heir of Morton, and Queen Mary's gaoler was the mother of the base-born Murray. June 11th. at midnight. Get ready to come home now, Earl of Murray, for th^ cards are played out and the trick is won, * Ubanoff, tU. ISa. Chapter XXIV The Breaking of the Sceptre July 24th, 1567. We have seen Queen Mary enter her capital, " worn oul with fatigue, covered with dust, bedewed with tears and exposed as a spectacle to her own subjects. Notwithstand* ing all her arguments and entreaties, the same standard was carried before her, and the same insults and reproa-chea repeated."* " In the morning, the first display that the queen's weary eyes beheld from the windows of her prison was the same banner."! " The rebels having kept the queen that night under a strong guard in the provost's gaol, the honest part of the citizens crowded to the place threatening to set hei at liberty. To prevent this required all the address of the conspirators ; thereupon, with well feigned grief, they pre tended they were sorry for giving her cause to complain assured her that they never intended to deprive her oj Itei ^ Robertson, 178. t Chalmers, L 163. Breaking of the Sceptre. 269 freedom and would instantly restore her to her own palace of Holyrood house."* Among these assurers " were Mor- ton, Lindsay and Maitland.f " Sche came yesterday," writes Archbishop Beaton n, to ane windo of hir chalmer that lukkit on the hiegait, and cry it forth on the pepill, quhow sche was haldin in prison and keepit be her awin subjectis quha had betrayit hir Sche came to the said windo sundrie times, in sa miserable a stait, hir hairs hangand about hir loggs (ears), and hir breest, that na man luk upon hir hot sche movit him to pi tie and compassioun. For my ain part, I was satisfeit to heir of it, and raeight not suffer to see it."J Meantime, the burgesses and craftsmen of the good city were crowding beneath her windows, grim in their silent Scottish anger, their "dour wrath," waiting for the moment when their own blue banner should appear, to sack the house and free Queen Mary. On their knees Morton and Athol pleaded; swore to her by God, their honor, and their consciences, that they would treat her as their sovereign if she would dismiss the people, and once more prevailed on her gentle and now exhausted nature to pardon them. She appeared at the I window, and pacified the 3itia3ns, while the lords pledged their words to thent that she should be conducted to hei palace.§ ♦ Tytlcr IL 1T«. t Strickland v. 294-5. ^Lingard, yi, T8. S Tytler, U. 176. Strickland, t. 2&Si 270 Maby, Queex of Scots. The brave people believed them and retired, and a midnight, the conspirators kept their word. They led hel to her palace, on foot^ surrouuded bv twelve hundred men at arms, and occupied more than an hour in a walk of ten minutes. Two of her Maries, Seton and Livingstone, walked close behind her; but Morton's rabble yelled at her as she passed and hired strumpets sate on their brothel door-steps and shrieked with harsh, drunken voices, " Bum her! drown herT The Queen of Scotland turned to the scum populace of her capital and fearlessly confronted them. " I am mno- cent,** she said, "I have done nothing worthy of blame. Why am I handled thus, seeing I am a true princess and your native sovereign. You are deceived by false traitors. Good Christian people, either take my life or free me from their cruelty."* So was the traitors' promise kept ; so did they conduct their Sovereign to the palace of her fathers, and thence at midnight, " stript of her princely attire and ornaments and clothed in a coarse woollen cassock,"! she was delivered to Ruthven and Lindsay to be carried to Lochleven Castle. Those good men hastened and not without need, for Seton and Home and a dozen other lords and gentlemen were " up for the Queen." When Mary reached the shores of the loch, she refused to enter the boat, and wept and •atrickland, t. 901 tTytler,B.in: Bbeaking of the Sceptek. 271 struggled, till they flung her into it, and so they gained the castle before her loyal friends reined up their smoking steeds upon the bank. The castle stands upon an island of about five acrea in extent, in the midst of a rough Scottish loch some four- teen miles in circumference. It is quadrangular and has two towers, the central square, the corner one octagonal. On three sides it is washed by the deep waters, on the fourth, a garden lies within the wall. Her place was in the octagon tower which had but two outlets, one a window high up and on the lake, the other a door leading unto the apartments occupied by the family. Her gentle keeper " the Lady Lochlevin, Murray the the Bastard's mother received her from the grim barons who had brought her and welcomed her with these kind wordft : — " Madam, ye are but an usurper, and my son, the Earl of Murray, is rightful King of Scotland and legiti- mate heir of James V." Mary, without looking at her only replied, that even Murray " was too honest to to say so himself,"f and then she passed into her apartments and the doors were closed and barred upon her. June 23. — Monsieur de Villeray ambassador from hia most Christian Majesty Charles IX. of France, and Sir Nicholas Throckmorton ambassador of Elizabeth of Eng •TytlerHlTT. t8tricKUtid,y. 8(& 272 MarY; Queen of Scots. land, apply for permission to deliver their credentials to the Queen of Scotland, or even to see her. But the requests of both are refused. June 26-27. — The lords of the Secret Council pro- claim Both well a murderer and traitor, and send Sir William Kirkaldy of the Grange to arrest him — eleven days after his riding forth alone from the fore front of their army. They did not want to take him. He knew too much. Kirkaldy misses him, but takes Talla, Hay, Powrie and Dalgleish, who are tried, confess Bothwell's guilt, protest the Queen's innocence and are hanged for the murder of King Henry Darnley. Bothwell escapes then to die in Malvoe. July 18. — The Lords of the Secret Council propose to the Queen, to disavow her marriage with Bothwell ; she replies that she was married by their leading minister Mr. Craig, and by Adam Bothwell Bishop of Orkney,* and that ♦ This Adam Bothwell must not be taken for a real bishop. I will not say why, but will let Mary's strong Scotch Presbyterian enemy, the great historian Robertson, take my place. " On the death of the Archbishop of Saint Andrew's, Morton obtained from the Crown, (t. e. from the Infant for whom he was regent), a grant of the tern* poralities of that See, but as it was thought indecent for a layman to hold a benefice to which the cure of souls was annexed, he procured Douglas (Pro- testant) rector of the University of Saint Andrew's, to be chosen Archbishop ; »nd, allotting him a small pension out of the revenues of the See, retained the remainder in his own hands. The nobles, who saw the advantage they might reap from It, sustained him in the execution of this plan. It would havii be«n rash in the clergy (of the New Religion), to have irritated too much noblemen upon whom the very exifftenoe of the Protestant Church qf Scot' Breaking of the Sceptre. 273 she will do nothing which may blight the fair fame of thfl child (BothwelPs), which she thinks she bears in her bosom.* Let us return to Mary at Lochleven : The day after her incarceration, the rebels seized upon al] ner plate, jewels, dresses and other personal property in Ilolyrood, among which was probably the "silver gilt casket," afterwards used for their letters. And the booty they took was coined into money to pay their own rebel lious troops with. In Edinburg her French servants were besieging the house of du Croc for food, and he broke open a box of plate which she had given him to keep, and with the pro- ceeds sent them back to France. A party was formed for the queen and had their head* quarters at Hamilton. Murray was waiting for Elizabeth's permission to return and ascend the throne, f kmd dep&ndedf and it was at last agreed in a convention composed of leading men among the clergy ^ together with a committee of the Privy Comicil, •That the name and office of Archbishop and Bishop should be continued during the King's minority, and these dignities be conferred among the best qualified of the Protestant ministers. Knox agreed with this decision, and, in consequence of the Assembly's consent to the plan agreed upon in this conven- Uon, Douglas was installed in his ofl&ce and at the same time an Arc^ bishop of Glasgow, and a Bishop of Dunkeld were chosen from among the Protestant clergy. They were all admitted into the place in Parliament which belonged to the ecclesiastical order. But in imitation of the example set by Morton, such bargains were made with them by different noblemen."— /?o?»6r^.sori, p. 220, Harper's Edition^ 1855. ♦Labanoflf, iL 59. t Strickland, v. 810.— A^ote. 274 Mary, Queen of Soots. On tha day of her being led into captivity, John Knox, Chief Apostle of the Scottish Reformation, who had fled the country at the time of Riccio's murder, reappeared in Edinburg and resumed his sacred functions as follows : *'This day," July 19, writes Throckmorton to Elizabeth, ' I was at Mr. Knox's sermon, who took a piece of Scrip- mre forth of the books of the Kings, and did inveigh vehemently against the queen, and persuaded extremities towards her by application of his text."* And the same good minister of Christ, according to the same letter, con- tinued to " pour it out cannon hot " against his defenceless queen, branding her openly from St. Giles' pulpit as a murderess, coupled with the coarsest terms of vituperation and denouncing the " great plagues of God to Scotland if ihe were spared^'^\ Very eloquent he must have been, according to Dr. Robertson's quotation from Melville.J That scoundrelly and sneaking traitor writes with a nasal* ity of hypocrisy that one can almost hear : " Of all the benefits I had that year, was the coming of that most notable prophet and apostle of our nation, Mr. John Knox, to St. Andrew's. I heard him teach there the prophecies of Daniel that summer and the winter follow- ing. I had my pen and little book and took away tuch things as I could comprehend. In the opening of his text he was moderate the space of half an hour^ but when he entered into application, he made me so grue and • ftarlckland, y. 881. f Ibid. 888. X RobertsoB« SSL Breaking of the Sceptre. 27S tremble that I could not hold the pen to write. He was very weak. 1 saw him every day of his doctrine go slowly and fair, with a furring of matticks about his neck, a staflf in one hand, and good, godly Mr. Richard Bellen- den holding him up by the oxter from the abbey to the parish kirk : and he, the said Richard, and another ser vant lifted him up into the pulpit, where he behoved to lean at his first entry : but ere he was done with his sermon, he was so active and vigorous that he was like to din^ the pulpit in blads and fly out of it." Daily these generous gentlemen sent intimations to their victim that she should be removed to an old tower in Loch- even, and shut up to perish ; or that she should be stifled between two beds, and her body hung to the bed-post, af» if she had committed suicide.* Finally, when their own good time had come, they sent sneaking Melville, her treacherous ambassador, and brutal Lord Patrick Lyndsay of the Byres, the assassin of Riccio, the first to wheedle, the second to compel her renunciation of the crown, her abdication of the throne. Sir Robert Melville was not one of the ruflSans who had •tained her garments with the blood of her secretary : he was guiltless of Darnley's murder and had no part in Both- well's cruel abduction, nor in the taking up arms against her. He was simply a sneaking spy, paid by the English governipeDt to keep in Mary's confidence and reveal all hi 276 Mabt, Queen of Scots could learn to the crafty Cecil and the sanguinary Eliza- beth. He dunned Elizabeth for money to pay her other tools in Scotland. He, when with the lords of the Secret Councic informs Cecil of their perfect adherence to the Queen of England, and request^^.hat their pay may be sent by Throckmorton, or as he elegantly orthographises him "Sir Nicholas FragmatonP He informs Cecil that the lords will accord to keep the prince (James VI.) and to her Highness's (Elizabeth's) desire put him in custody of her Majesty.* Patrick, Lord Lyndsay we know as exciting the popu- lace to murder Mary's chaplain the first day of her arrival in Scotland ; as an assassin of David Riccio ; as a signer of Both well's various "bonds," and as a religious fanatic to whom Habbakkuk Mucklewrath or Gabriel Kettledrummle were but lambs. These two then, the sneak and the bully, bore to Queen Mary the prisoner, the ultimatum of the rebel lords. She must abdicate in favor of her son as king and of Murray as Regent, or they would charge her with adultery, the murder of Darnley and tyranny. Well then, behold them arrived at Lochleven Castle, these two gentlemen. Melville, sleek and smooth in his sad-colored doublet and trunk hose, with his little, neat dress sword at his side ; and Lyndsay, dark-browed, trucu lent, dirty and cased in steel from crest to jingling spur. • Strickland, t. 8<»-8ia Bbeakino of the Sceptee. 277 They are ushered into the presence of the queen by Lady Lochlevin, ex-mistress of King James V., and her Bons, Sir William, and Mr. George Douglas. Melville went first and strove to coax Queen Mary into an abdication of her rights. He failed and then the wild beast Lyndsay burst in, to add, by his infuriate howls, to the terrors of the broken-hearted woman. He flung the deeds before her on the table, and with rough vehemence, ordered her to sign. " What !" said the royal lady, " shall I set my hand to a deliberate falsehood, and, to gratify the ambition of my nobles, relinquish the oflSce God hath given me to my son, an infant little more than a year old, incapable of govern- ing, that my brother Murray may reign in his name Lyndsay scowled on her with a laugh of mingled hate and scorn, and said : " If you sign not these instruments, I will do it with your heart's blood and cast you into the loch to feed the fishes." She burst into a flood of wild hysterical tears, wailing out only this : " Alas ? I am not yet five-and-twenty Then snake Melville hissed in her ears, " Sign Madam, to save your life." She wept more bitterly, but would not sign. And then Lyndsay with his steel-clad hand griped her white arm, till the blood rose at the violence, thrust the pen into her fingers and once more bad« her sign. "He had beguD 278 Mary, Qfeen of Scots. the matter," he said, "and he would finish it then and there I" Fainting almost with terror, the hot tears paralyzed upon her lashes. Queen Mary Stuart signed her abdication. Go now, false lords, unworthy gentlemen, defilers of youi fathers' noble names and desecrators of their sftcred dust ; go with your ill-gotten papers and render an account of your day's work, now to your masters in Edinburg ; here- after unto God. They are gone, and Mary stands there in that wave- encircled fortrass. She looks not out over the lake nor upward at the sky : hears not the sough of the midsummer air as it shakes the purple bloom of the heather ; sees not the hazel-coverts of Benarty ; dreams not of her sunny youth in beautiful France, nor of the welcoming, upturned faces that greeted her at Leith. She stands there pale, wan, desolate, frigid, alone. The fatal pen still lies upon the table; the ink is undried yet upon its point. Her cheek is colorless and cold, her brown eyes are distilling bitter tears and her bare and bruised arm blackens slcwly in the air. Her sceptre is broken, her crown cast down, her thron6 dishonored. L3t the curtain fall 1 SJTD OF FiaaT BOOK. BOOK II. ary, the Captive O Domlne Dens, spenyl in To t Nimo core mi Jesu, O liber» ma t In dura catena et misera poemi Desidero Ta Longuendo, gemendo et genuflectendo^ Adoro, implozo ut liberet me I Kabt's Pbayeb. J Mary the Captive, Chapter !• Loch. even and Langside. June 1567 — May 1568. Laden with the fruits of their treachery and brutality, Lindsay and Morton posted to Edinburg. There in their Lands were the papers that robbed Queen Mary of her throae and fulfilled the designs of her cruel brother Mur- ray. But they were not yet in condition to see the light • they lacked the royal seal, which alone could give them authenticity. But the seal was in the keeping of Thomas Sinclair, a loyal gentleman who could neither be coaxed nor intimidated. To him, however, Lindsay, with a band of armed fol- lowers, carried the documents and required him to aflSx the seal. He however refused to do so to any papers of importance " while the queen*« grace was in ward." Short m 282 Mart, Queen of Scots. time did Lindsay waste in arguments. The faitiifnl keeper was seized, and notwithstanding his energetic pro tests, the seal forced into his hands and the act compelled from him. Meantime, Kirkaldy of Grange writes to Bedford to hasten Earl Murray's return, and Cecil informs Sir Robert Norris, English ambassador in Paris, that he must instantly Bend a certain packet of letters to Murray, " whereof you may not make the Scottish ambassador privy;" that hia return to Scotland is much needed, and that he is to be supplied with as much money as he desires.* Already Mary's plate and jewels had been sold, and her wardrobe and those of her ladies seized upon. On the 29th of July her infant son was crowned, being then thirteen months old. He lay, poor baby, on the throne, whil< round him stood five rebel earls, eight lords and a great company of preachers and men-at-arms. The act of abdi- cation was read, and Lyndsay and Ruthven swore that Mary had signed it voluntarily. The English and French ambassadors, the Hamiltons and other loyal lords refused to be present,! and Throckmorton answered : — " That Eliza* beth wished the young prince as much honor as was wished by any one among them ; but would never consent that the son should depose the mother from the throne."J To Cecil he writes : — " It is to be feared that this tragedy will end in the queen's person, after the coronation, as it • BtrlokUnd, 810. t Labanoff fi. 61. ^ Llngard, fL LOCHLEVEN AND LaNQSIDE. 288 began in tbe person of David the Italian and the queen'i husband."* The child could not take the oath, but James Douglas, Earl of Morton, his father's murderer, swore freely for him The usual oath had been improved for the occasion ; now it provided that the king " should serve the Eternal, his God according to His holy word, established in the Kirk^ should abolish and gainstand all false religion, and should root oui heretics and enemies of God's worship convicted of the same by judgment of the Kirk."f Then John Knox preached a sermon. That excellent man Adam Both well annointed the king^ in spite of Knox's protest against that Jewish rite; and then followed the usual processions and bearing of crown and sceptre, and James the Sixth was as much king of Scot- land as Morton and Athol could make him. The Lord James Stuart, Earl of Murray, had done all he could in France with the Huguenots and Catherine de Medi- cis,J who was then in league with them, to prejudice his sis- ter's cause. With the young king, however, he could do nothing. From his veriest childhood, Charles the Ninth had loved Mary better than anything on earth,§ and would not now listen to one syllable against her. So Murray lied • Strickland, 880. t Lingard. vl, 80; Chalmers, 1. 181. I For the best exposition of thl? queen's fast and loose dealing with thf Haguenotfi read Balzac^s " Martyre CaLviniste.'** § See page 56. 284 Mary, Queen of Scots. as usual. He even swore to the king that every eflfbrt in his power should be used to set her free and to place her, triumphant, on her throne.* But while swearing this, he wriles to his sister, at Lochleven, with a pretence of secrecy that Charles can only make peace with his subjects "on con- dition of sending her no help."f He received a title and pension from the king as the reward of his future services to his sister,J and then returned to Elizabeth to regulate his plot with her and so to enter Scotland.§ Accordingly, Sir Robert Melville and Maitland are dispatched to meet him, and he enters Edinburg tri- umphan4ily, on the 11th of August, 156^?. M. de Ligiie- rolles follows him as ambassador from Charles, sues for admission to the queen's presence, but being refused, goes back to his sovereign no wiser than he came. Murray found that his own party had become bifurcate. Morton, Lindsay and the sterner brutes and crazier fanatics wanted him to take the Regency at once, and to pass an act lanctioning whatever they had done in his absence. But Maitland, Marr and Eirkaldy perferred that, if possible, he should come to some arrangement with the queen. But he, lood man, looked at them with those still shadowed eyes ^f his and listened, but said nothing. On the 16th of August, however, taking Morton and fyndsay with him, he set cut for Lochleven, to visit thi • Labanoir, iL Tt X lingard^ vi. 81. t Chalmers, ii. 18S. S Labanoff, ii. 6U LOCHLEVEN AND LaNGSIDK, 285 royal prisoner there. She went hopefully to meet him, but his stern and inscrutable face repulsed her. He was cold, hard and unconsoling ; her sad looks, her mournful voice, her ready tears, had no eflfect upon him ; he sug- gested to her the scaffold as the probable termination of her story ; and had no greater comfort to bestow upon her at parting after midnight, than to say that " she had noth- ing left to hope for but God's mercy, let her seek that as her chief refuge T'* And so he left her, broken-spirited, uncomforted, almost in despair. In the morning he came again ; this time making use of some semblance of kindness. Enfeebled by anxiety and a sleepless night, and terrified by his representations, the poor lady at length bade him accept the Regency, a measure which he assured her could alone secure her life and that of her child. Fortified with this, he left her, bat with no kinder parting speech than this : " Madame, I will declare to you which be the occasions that may put you in jeopardy, and which be they that may preserve you. First for your peril, these be they: your own practices to disturb the quiet of the realm and the reign of your son ; to enterprize to escape from where you are, or to put yourself at liberty ; to ani- mate any of your subjects to trouble or disobedience, or the Queen of England or the French King, to molest thia realm either with their war or with war intestine, by your procurement or otherwise."! • Llngard, vL 8L f Chalmers, i. 1 8T. 286 Mary, Queen of Scots. To all this she had nothing to reply but tears ; and tie "good Lord James" went on his way to be proclaimed Regent on the 22d August. He took the same oath, " to root out heretics," which Morton had taken for the baby king, with his hand laid on the Bible, making an inclina- tion of the body, and singing the seventy-second Psalm ; the most frightful piece of blasphemy that even that dark hypocrite was ever guilty of.* And new he had reached his zenith. He was sole ruler of Scotland. And first he broke all the public seals and dies which bore the face or title of the queen. Then he purchased Edinburg Castle (r'm that ingenious traitor Sir James Bal- four. The price was £5,000 in cash ; the priory of Pitten- ween ; a pension for his son ; a pardon for the king's murder, and possession, in this world, of his caitifl' s3ul. Wearily, weaiily the hours of captivity crawled on in the lake circled tower of Lochleven. On the 24th of July, the thirty-seronth dAy of her captivity, she wrote to Sir Nicholas TLrockmoTtoa, thanking him for some kiml mes- sage, and stating the impossibility of writing witL free- dom. She dates it sadly " Ih ma pison, en la tx ur de Loghleviny To the Archbishop of Glasgow she writes a •hort note, begging the sympathy of France ; telling him that she has neither paper nor time to write fully, an^^l bid- ing him burn her letters, since, if found by her enemiwa, or if they knew that she was writing, it " would cost many ih^^ LOCHLEVEN AND LanGSIDB. 281 life ; would put hers in peril anc would certainly procire for her a severer prison." To Elizabeth, on the first of May, she writes, reminding her of a ring once sent by her, with promise of instant help in time of need. The ring poor Mary cannot send. **You know," she says, "that my brother Murray holds all that is mine." " Have pity then upon your good sister and cousin, and be assured that you will find no near relative more affectionate in the world." And to Catherine de Medicis, saying"! cannot write fully. I am so closely espied that I have no time except when they are dining or when I rise during their slumber, for their girls sleep with me." She declares that all Scot- land will rise against Murray and Morton if troops are sent from France, and begs her mother-in-law's aid. She dates it simply "From my prison, this first of May."* When Lyndsay and Melville came to compel her signa- ture to the deed of abdication. Sir William Douglas, Castel- lan of Lochleven, indignantly protested against the insuU put upon his house, and refused to enter the Queen's pres- ence with those traitors. His bitter mother, and his younger brother George however went in. The first to feed fat her ancient grudge ; the second to look on with pitying wonder unrtil he saw the tiger claws of Lyndsay clutch the white arm. From that moment he vowed bis life to the service of his beautiful and suffering sovereign • • For ihe§e leiiM§ Me LabtooC, tL 6a» 6a 288 Mart, Queen of Soots. and put himself in communication with the loyal lords who had associated in the queen's name. These were the Archbishop of St. Andrew's, Earls Argyle and Huntley, Lords Ross, Fleming, Herries, etc. Dec, 4th, — The letters " are first mentioned although six months old. An additional proof that the very form of accusation which they were to contain had not been settled on until now, will be found in a note at the end of this chapter. I diseovered it too late to insert it in itt. place. Dec, 20th, — A^'t of Parliament attainting Both well fo« hsLving forced the (jueen. March 23cf, 1568. — George Douglas makes his first attempt to rescue Mary Stuart. She was not allowed to have even a laundress in her service and her washing was done upon the mainland, the woman going to and fro in a boat. Douglas, Beton, brother of the Archbishop of Glas- gow and others had arranged their plot with this good woman. In the morning she arrived as usual at the castle, and after being searched, Was sent up stairs to the queen's room before that lady had risen. Mary then took her cloak, bonnet and muffler (heavy veil), placed the laun- irefcB in her own bed, took her basket and went quietly down the stairs and out at the landing. She entered the boat and had nearly reached the middle of the lake when one of the boatmen observed that she kept her niuf flter very close round her face. LOCHLEVEN AND LaNGSIDE. 289 Let us see wbat kind of a damsel this is/' he said and tried to pull the veil aside. Two delicate snow white hands were put up to keep it in its place. " Ah " cried the man, " those are no washerwoman's lands 1" and they instantly stopped. Then Mary threw back her hood, called up the sover- eign within her and commanded them on their allegiance to row to the opposite shore. But the clansmen of Loch- leven refused, although they promised to say nothing about it if she would return at once to her chamber. Thus were her hopes of escape disappointed ; with the free air of the lake blowing upon her ; the grand free Highland nature all around her, she must needs turn back to her prison, to the heartless stone walls of her tower in the for tress. For this attempt, George Douglas was instantly ordereu to quit Lochleven. He obeyed, and took up bis abode a the village of Kinross on the Northern shore. April 27th, 1568, saw another futile attempt on the part of a French ambassador, M. de Beaumont, to gain accesi to the queen. In spite of his formal promise to botl Charles and Catherine, Murray persisted not only in the imprisonment, but even in the a'bsolute seclusion of th€ queen. Thus then in company with two of her Maries, Seton and Liringston, Madame Courcelles, Mademoiselle KaUaj wo Ma^y, Queen of Scots. and Jane Kennedy, the weary months, eleven of A was Queen Mary Stuart's last battle fought and lost ! She saw it all from a neighboring hill top, and as her last hop* of regaining the crown of her fathers crumbled into pierces before her eyes, she burst into an agony of tears An 1 then with small retinue southward she galloped, with- out rest or pause, full sixty miles to Dundrennan Abbey. Next day she wrote a letter to Elizabeth beseeching her assistance, and saying, " I have been kept in prison, treated vrith the last indignities, and now, chased from my king- dom, I am reduced to such a state that, after God, T have no hope except in you."* Woe's me, poor queen, you lean upon a broken reed, whose jagged, pitiless splinters will scon pieroe your heart and drip red with your very life-blood On the 16th she determined to go to Ekjgiand and throw herself upon Elizabeth's sense of justice. Faithful Lord Herries besought her to go to FrE*nce, but she would not listen : Hamilton, Archbishop of St. Andrew's, flung him- self upon his knees and implored her for the love of God not to trust the Queen of England ; but her dark fate lay in that land and she must go to meet it. So with a small ^ Labanofl; li. 7L 294 Mary, Queen of Scots. retinue of a score of persons, she embarked that fatal Sundaj (May 16th) in a fishing boat, and sailed away across the Frith of Sol way from the Scottish coast, never to see itfi blue lochs and heathry hills again for evermore Note, — Murray when in France, writing to the Spanish ambassador said, "He felt exceedingly for the imprison- ment of the queen, but had always anticipated evil from her connection with Both well. There was even in exis- tence a letter of three sheets of paper written by her with her ow^n hand to Both well, in which she urged him to put in execution the pUan concerted between them for the death of Darnley, by giving him a potion or by hurning him in Ms house, quemando la casa. He, Murray, had not indeed seen the letter, but he knew the fact from one who bad read the original." So that as yet the conspirators had only got up one letter out of the eight, and the very language of that was still undetermined. — Vide chap, xviii. For the &bov« quotation see Lingard, vi. 81, note. Chapter II. From Carlisle to Bolton 1568. tf ARY first set her foot on English ground, at Working ton in Cumberland. From this place she dispatched Beton with the ring mentioned in her letter quoted ii* the last chapter, and bade Lord Herries write to Lowther^ the English Warden of Carlisle. That gentleman encour aged her to come on, and with Lord Scroope came to meet her. She had but the one coarse robe and not one shilling in her pocket. Before leaving Workington she wrote a long letter tc (he English queen, rehearsing the whole story of her sor- rows since the death of Riccio, a resumed of the melancholy history of the twelvemonth. She accuses the rebel leaders of the king's murder, and tells her cousin that she has come to England to seek justice at her hands. "I implore you to send for me soon,'' she says, " for I am in 296 Mary, Queen of Scots. K most piteous condition, not only for a queen but even fbi a simple gentlewoman. I have nothing on earth but my person, just as I escaped by a ride of sixty miles the first lay. Since then I have only dared to travel at night, as 1 will show you if it please you to have pity on ray extreme misfortune, which I will cease to bewail now, lest I shoulJ annoy you ; and I pray God to grant you liealth, a long and happy life, and to me patience and the consolation which I hope for at your hands."* To this touching appeal Elizabeth was content to order the sheriff and judges of the peace to treat the royal refugew with all possible respect, but at the same time to watch hei closely and be particularly careful to prevent her escape, Cecil wrote also to assure Mary of her cousin's kind and sympathetic feeling for her : and Lady Scroope, sister of the Duke of Norfolk, was sent with some other gentle- women to attend her. Sir Francis Knollys who brought these letters tells Cecil that Mary is a rare woman. For, as no flattery can abuse her, so no plain speech seems to offend her if she thinks the speaker an honest man."f By-and-by a respectable household gathered about her and she took what comfort she could at Carlisle. But on the 28th of May, the Earl and Countess of Lennox pre- sented themselves before the English sovereign and accused Queen Mary of complicity in Darnley's guilt. At thij time the countess was thoroughly under the persuasions of • Labanotr, li 76. t Chalmers, L ^OBi From Carlisle to Boltcn. 297 bei cousin-gennan the Earl of Morton. A few years latef however she found him out, and in her lovinsr and tendei letter to her royal daughter-in-law calls hira " the wicked governor."* Mary remained at Carlisle until the 16th of July, when in spite of all her protestations to the contrary, she was removed to Bolton Castle. This intervening time was however busily occupied in writing letters to France and England. She sent Lord Fleming to represent her condition to Charles Ninth, Mary de Medicis and the cardinal of Lorraine, showing them the extreme difficulties of her position. Elizabeth promises to replace her upon the throne on condition that she will ask no help from France and England, yet she cannot feel full confidence in the promises of ihat queen, and is therefore undecided what course to pursue. Only, Lord Fleming is instructed, in case of failure with the English court to im- plore aid from France, and particularly to ask her uncle Lorraine's help to recompense those loyal subjects who had suffered in her cause.f Later on the 21st of June when Elizabeth's plans began to be more clearly shown, she herself writes to the king, the cardinal and the Duke of Anjou, mentioning her suspicions^ protesting that she is suffering for religion's sake,J and ask- ing their protection. Clearer and clearer, as the days advance grow the schemes of her wily enemy. She tells Strickland, v. 881. t Labanoff, ii 85, 90. t Ibl^j of Kilwinning, Sir John Gordon of Lochinvar, Sir Jamei Cockburn of Stirling. The rebel commissioners were James Earl of Murray James Earl of Morton, Adam Bothwell pseudo Bishop of Orkney, Patrick Lord Lyndsay of the Byres, Pitcairn lay prior of Dumferline. These were assisted by William Maitland of Lethington, George Buchannan and the lorda of session McGill and Balnaves. Murray and Morton had signed the bond which endorsed Both well's acquittal and had urged his marriage with th€ queen. Morton had issued the proclamation which accused Bothwell of carrying Mary oflf by force and compelling her to marry him. Maitland with Murray and Morton had voted for the act of parliament which declared their sove- reign an innocent victim and Bothwell a ruthless ravisher. McGill and Balnaves were members of the court which unanimously acquitted the earl of any guilt as to the king's murder ; and now Murray and Morton, Maitland, Balnaves and McGill come before Elizabeth Tudor to accuse Mary Queen of Scots as BothwelPs accomplice in that crime. To prepare the way for the opening of these conferences Elizabeth pledged her word to Mary that she should b€ restored to her throne ;* and to Murray she promised that his royal sister should never be permitted to return to Bcotland.f Mary had consented to these conferences only • Utanofl; iL 191. Lingard, vi 89. t Bell, U. 142. Lingard, 89L 806 Mary, Queen of Scots. on Elizabeth's express promise to restore her to her realm. The English queen herself declared that, by these proceed- ings, "she only meant to have such as the Queen of Scoti iliould please to call into England, to be charged with such crimes as the said queen should please to object against them ; and if any form of judgment should be used, it thould be against themy* We shall see how the promise was kept. Mary credits her commissioners publicly in the name o! " God everlasting." She instructs them as plaintiffs to accuse Murray, Morton and the others of rebellion and treason, in wasting her property, stealing and selling hei jewels, destroying the houses, wealth and lives of her loyal subjects : to rehearse and give thanks for Elizabeth's pro- mise to restore her ; which promise has prevented her from suing for help to France or Spain : to show that all delay had been caused by Elizabeth's urgent request for time, that she might persuade the rebels, if possible, without at once proceeding to force. Then they are to say that, although Mary has consentether objects desirable, as they supposed, for England, nanaely the restoration of the old religion and the definite regulation of the succession. This was farther than the other peers would go, although nearly all were strongly in favor of the marriage. Arun- del, Pembroke, Leicester, Lumley all signed a letter pressing Queen Mary to accede to the match, but requir- ing her to respect the Protestant religion as now estal>- lished, to do nothing against Elizabeth's possession of the throne, to pardon her rebels and to form a league iter- petual between the two kingdoms. 312 Maky, Queen of Scots. 1 By-and-by Northumberland and Westmoreland were discovered by Elizabeth and on being summoned to court, broke out into open rebellion. First of all Mary 8tuart was sent to a fortress in Coventry and then troops were marched against the insurgent lords and they were driven over the borders inio Scotland. And then James Stuart Earl of Murray basely betrayed Norfolk to Queen Elizabeth. His letter will be found in Dr. Robertson's appendix No. xxxiii. The duke was accused by his sovereign and not only denied that he had formed any such project but stooped to the meanness of maligning Mary to prove his own innocence. He called her both an adulteress and a murderess, and asked how he or any other man could desire to marry such a one. This baseness destroys all sentiments of pity for this nobleman, who although he gratified the malignity of Elizabeth by Buch language, yet did himself no good. She recom- mended him to " beware on what pillow he rested his head," an exceedingly unpleasant remark from the lips of a Tudor. Accordingly on the 9th of October he was committed to the tower. Then he made humble submission to the queen and bcund himself to renounce any marriage project with the Scottish sovereign. He was set at liberty and instantly renewed negotiations with Bishop Lesly and with the French and Spanish emissaries engaged in the scheme. He was, two years afterwards, again imprisoned, tried and Last Days of Murray. 313 found guilty of high treason. The trial was conducted with the extreme unfairness frequent at that court* and resulted of course in the gratification of the anciftut Bpin^te^'s lust of blood. On the 2d of June, 1572, he knelt beside the same block at which his father had suffered a quarter of a century before and his head was struck from his shoulders. Our old friend Sir Nicholas Throckmorton was tried for pa^rtici patio II in the same plot, and although he was acquit- ted, yet he lost forever the confidence of the queen whom he had served so long and so unscrupulously. He died at the Earl of Leicester's, " being there taken suddenly in great extremity the Tuesday befoi-e ; his lungs were perished, but a sudden cold he had taken was the cause of his speedy death. God hath his soul, and we, his friends, great loss of his body."f William Maitland laird of Lethington was also an active participant in the scheme, and strangely enough he now forsook Murray ; he had wriggled and aquirmed, plotted and planned until both the fox and serpent qualities of hia nature were worn out and exhausted. Then he grew des- • pel ate and turned honest. What he gained by te.at manoeuvre we are now about to see. The chief of the Reformers, after Murray, James Earl of • See Report of Trial, library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol Xfi. part 1, wad Robertson's Hist. Scotland, p. 190-215. t Orimiiua Trials. lib. Ent. Eooirlege, zri ML u S14 Mart, Qdken of Scots. Morton, had seduced the sister-in-law of Kirkaldy of Grange, the soldier who had won for Murray the field of Langside and had set him upon the regental throne of Scotland. The dishonored gentleman, Sir James Kirkaldy, slew his falso mate in her polluted bed, but Morton was too high for him U} reach. But he joined Maitland, and when Murray attacked that statesman, protected him. Maitland waa arrested on a charge of complicity in the murder of Darn- ley ; not by the " godly regent," of course. Oh, no, that good man always declared that it filled his pitiful soul with pain to see his dear friend thus maltreated. Be that as it may have been, Maitland was arrested and sent to Edib- burg Castle. Sir William Kirkaldy was then captain of that fortress, and he received Maitland as a friend, and defied the strength of Murray and afterwards of Lenox, Mar and Morton. From that time Kirkaldy raised the standard of his rightful queen, fought well and bravely, though in vain, for her, and Maitland the wily helped him with his coun- cils. But he had destroyed that poor lady and the " strong right hand of the eternal God ^ was on him. He could not repair his wrongs to her ; his power and iia wiles were alike unsuccessful to get her from between the ' well clenched fangs of the abominable she-wolf of England. He was persecuted by Morton, when that earl became Regent, and he died of poison in a dungeon. His body lay above-ground festering, uncoffined, in the air, until its merited rottenness procured for it from fear what Last Days of Murray. 315 human love nor human pity would bestow, an unattended burial. This was the end of Maitland of Lethington. Let us pass from the servant to the master, "Godly*' James Stuart, by the love of his abused sister Earl of Murray, by the grace of the Congregation Regent of Scotland. When his conferences were ended, and, with his Casket of Letters under his arm, he was ready to go " back again," the woman to whom he sold the independ- ence of his country, to whose jealous hate he betrayed his friendless queen and sister, as well as the Duke of Norfolk, paid him for his last job five thousand pounds sterling in cash.* So, comfortably, he went back to Scotland, from which country he wrote, Feb. 2, 1569, to Secretary Cecil, that there never was greater occasion to be careful of Mary's security. And if the Lords Boyd and Herries and the Bishop of Ross could he stayed for a season, it would do a great ^oofl?."f On his arrival in Scotland, he found the people distrustful of him. They suspected that he had sold his country ; and they manifested some disposition to obey Hamilton Duke of Chatelherault, who had published his commission from the queen as Li euten ant-General. This was the hardest card to beat for the moment; but Murray knew the tricks of the game. He invited the lords of both paities to assemble and to • Obaliiien,U.289. fXbld.S9L! 816 Mart, Queen of Soots iee whether a harmonious arrangement might not be arrived at. They, loyal gentlemen, came to the rendez- T0U8, were set on by Murray's men and the Duke, Lord Herries and others, were imprisoned.* His giace tb^ E^grfit now found leisure to amuse him- self a little. In May he pilloried some priests for saying mass; he burnt a witch, one Mother Nicneven, of whom Sir Walter has made a character in the Abbot ; he hanged Sir William Stuart, lord lion king-at-arms, for sorcery. Poor gentleman ! he was not only a sorcerer but he had said he could prove that Murray was a murderer of Darnley.f He then attended to Maitland's case as we have seen. Then he performed his last good deed, and was instantly pre- sented with the proper reward. Among the loyal gentlemen in arms for their queen was Janies Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh. Upon his estates Mvrray seized, confiscating them on a charge of treason, Hwnilton's wife was the heiress of Woodhouslee, and being of course without power to resist, she instantly yielded her husband's estates and retired to the propeity left her by her father. Thither the Regent sent a party of soldiery, who coming there at midnight, thrust the iinfor tunate lady, in her night dress, out into the Scottish January midnight. She wandered about for hours, until reason forsook her and she died raving miserably in thi drifting snows, • Ch&lmen, U. 198. t Ibid, m Lasi Days of Murray. 317 Tlien James Hamilton took his harquebus, went down to Linlithgow, and when the "godly Regent'' swept past at the head of his troops, shot him down in the streets like a dog And thus, laden with an incalculable weight of evil; with the dethronement and broken heart of his sister ; with the murder of Huntley and Darnley and Lady Hamilton and Norfolk; with the betrayal of hia country and the ruin of his race, the soul of that dark hypocrite passed down to its account. Jan. 23, 1570. There are two Scottish poetical contributions to Murray's fame, by the citation of which I will end this chapter. The first is from a poem of the day, author unknown : •* He trained up was in the school of Satan's lying grace, Where he hath learned a finer feat that Richard erst did see To do the deed and lay the blame on thein that harmless he. For he and his companions eke agreeing all in one, Did kill the king and lay the blame the sacklcss queen upon.^* The second quotation is from Aytoun's nob'e poem of Roth well: Get thee,** (says Both well to the devil) across the howling seas, And bend o'er Murray s bed. For there the falsest villain lies That ever Scotland bred. • 8ee tb9 whole poem lo Chalmen, U. 843k Mart, Queen of Soots. False to his faith, a weddea pneat , Still falsei to the crown ; False to the blood that in his Toint Made bastardy renown ; False to his sister whom he swoie To guar*i shield fi-on. harm ; The head o / mat y a felon plot, But never once the arm. What tie so holy that his hand Hath snapped it not in twain f What oath so sacred but he broke For selfish end or gain ? A verier knave ne^er stepped the eatlk Since this wide world began ; 4liI yet — he bandies texts with Knox A id walks a pious man I" Chapter IV Eigh reen Years in Scotland 1569-1587, This insurrection showed to Elizabeth how delicate waa the position she occupied towards Mary Stuart. It was certain that foreign Catholic monarchs would demand her freedom and that they must be cajoled or persuaded by ftorae means. It was certain that very many powerful English subjects not only greatly commiserated the captive lady, but hated the cruel Tudor who held her imprisoned. As long as she remained immured, so long would her name be used, with or without her consent, by any faction that might arise in England. What then to do with her ? To ftet her free was impossible, half of Scotland was still loyal ; the great Catholic nobles of England would have joined them France, Spain, Germany were ready to give their aid. The Archduke of Austria and the Prince Philip of Spain were negotiating for her hand. Pope Pius V. had exaommiiiueated Queen Elizabeth and Felton had nailed 820 Mary, Queen of Soots. the bull on the palace gates of the Bishop of London getting immediately hanged for his trouble in so doing. What was to be done with the royal prisoner ? Diabolical Cecil suggests at once the simplest plan quietly to murder her in prison.* Nov. 14, 1569. From the odium of this however Elizabeth still shrunk, although neither its cruelty alarmed nor did its baseness revolt her, for she proposed to deliver up her trusting kinswoman to the tender mercies of Murray. And again she sent Killegrew, during the regency of Mar, oflfering to hand over Mary Stuart to him and brutal Morton, on the express condition that " she should be tried and executed within six hours after her arrival in Scotland."! The natural result of such a proposition we will see verv shortly. The Earl of Murray was succeeded in the Regency by Lennox, who was chosen at the bidding of Elizabeth. This nobleman signalized himself by the capture of several castles in the hands of the Queensmen, and by the murder of a venerable prelate. He succeeded in taking the strong fortress of Dumbarton in which he found Hamilton, Arch- bishop of St. Andrew's, and this clergyman and most loyal •Labanofl; iL 39%. t Strickland, v. 194 ; Robertaon, SlflL Eighteen Tears in Scotland. 32 J servant of Mary he caused to be hanged in the courtyard The loyalists instantly adopted for their war cry " Remem ber the Archbishop of St. Andrew's and when Lennoi was taken with the town of Stirling, he met as sudden a fate as the unfortunate prelate bad suffered at his hands. He was shot bf command of Lord Claude Hamilton, brother of the murdered man, Sept. 3d, 1571. Morton seized upon the revenues of the see, and Mar was elected regent ; to enjoy that position however only for a short time, and then to become melancholy mad and die miserably, October 28, 1572. This nobleman has been a good deal praised by Robertson and even by Bell for gentleness and desire for the pacification of the king- dom. But stubborn state-paper facts prove that he was quite willing to put to death his suffering and innocent sovereign in order to gratify the malignity of Eliza- beth, For on the 9th October, Killegrew informs Leicester and Cecil that the regent is ready with his terms, and on the 26th they were sent to the English ambassador. They were as follows : 1. The queen of England shall take the young king of Scotland under her especial protection. 2. The English Parliament shall declare that no sentence pronounced against Mary Stuart shall prejudice the rights of her son. 3. A league, offensive and defensive, shall be formed between the two kingdoms. 4. The Earl of Hunt- bgton, Bedford or Essex, shall lead three thousand troops 14» 822 Mary, Queen of Scots. into Scotland to assist at the execution of Mary Stuart 6. That those troops shall then aid those of the regent in the reduction of the castle of Edinburg and shall give it up to him. 6. That Elizabeth shall pay all the arrearages due to the Scottish soldiers."* Two days after signing these articles, the Earl of Mar very properly died. The field was now clear for Morton. This quadrupled rebel and traitor, this assassin of Riccio, this murderer of Darnley, this destroyer and detractor of his innocent queen, this man, who had been protected by Percy Earl of Northumberland on his flight into England after Riccio's death, who, when Percy in turn became a fugitive and asked for refuge from him, sold him for money to Elizabeth by whom his head was struck off, this man was now Regent of Scotland. A short sketch of the penod of his power will be all that is necessary here. He had always been an eminent leader of the Congrega- tion, but it was simply from hypocrisy and avarice. He not only seized upon the revenues of St. Andrew's, but of twenty other benefices, appointing a single minister to serve three or four cures ; fomenting their disputes and using religion only as a cloak for unscrupulous wickedness and insatiable covetousness. "Spies and informers were everywhere employed ; the remembrance of old offences irae revived ; imaginary crimes were invented ; petty ires- KiOHTEEN Years in Scotland. 323 passes were aggravarted and delinquents were compelled to compound ^or their lives by the payment of exorbitant fines/'* He seduced, as we have seen, the lady of Sir James Kirkaldy, and w^hen, with Queen Elizabeth's help, he had reduced Edinburg Castle, hanged both the brothers of that name. He persecuted Maitland to the death of a poisoned rat in a cellar. He probably poisoned Athol at his own dinner-table, to which he had invited that nobleman ;f the king's life was considered unsafe in his hands, and thus, Although constantly fostered and protected by Elizabeth,J te also came to his end. On the 1st of June, 1581, he was accused of the murdei of Darnley. Balfour and others of his accomplices testified against him : he was found guilty, and although confessing his giilt, died hypocrite as he had lived. His head was stuck over the gateway of Edinburg jail, " and his body, after lying until sunset upon the scafibld, covered with a beggarly cloak, was carried by common porters to the usual burial place for criminals "! They are all gone now, that terrible band who desolated the young life and broke the heart of Mary Queen of S^.ots. She came to them a sorrowful widow of nineteen ; she was driven out by them a crushed and friendless widow of twenty-five to pass eighteen years of cruel imprisonment, and to die upon the scaffold. But they are • Roberteoc, 226. t Ibid, 281. | Ibid. 280, 284 % lUd. fi3». 324 Mary, Queen of Scots. ail gone. Some sent to their account without a moment^* warning; some perished alone in foul and griniy dungeon*; Bome dying impenitent upon the scaffold. But now they pass away all from these pages. Knox and Ruthven and Lyndsay, Murray and Bothwell, Morton and Maitland. Prince James is now called King of Scotland. His mothei )i in the prisons of Elizabeth Tudor. Chapter V Mary the Captive. Why is this royal lady kept in prison ? The vile charger of her rebellious subjects, and the forced proofs with whicb they were supported, have been treated by Elizabeth witl the contempt they deserved. " We find no cause of evi opinion against our good sister." What, though the abo minable Tudor accept the dedication of George Buchannan'5 libel ? What, though she orders its circulation about the European continent? She gives the reason in her orders. There is no suspicion of guilt in Mary, but these books must be disseminated because " they will serve to good effect to disgrace her, which must he done before other pur- poses can he ohtainedP^ What other purposes in heaven's name ? Murder I most foul, unnatural, pitiless, ruthless murder ! What faults has Mary Stuart! Two kinds: political •nd religious. She is next heir to the throne of England •BeD,iLt7L 826 Mary, Queen of Scots. §he is aa uncompromising Catholic. Elizabeth dare not of will not marry ; power is too sweet. If she have children she dare not acknowledo^e them. But Leicester and Blount and Ilatton and Raleigh and Oxford and Anjou and Simier ought to know.* And this detested next heir is young and beautiful and a mother. This detested next heir will neither be frightened nor cajoled into any act of abdication. " Never will I yield my crown," she writes from her prison at Bolton, Jan. 9, 1569, " for I am delibe- rately resolved rather to die than do so, and the last words I shall utter in my life shall be those of a Queen of Scot- land."! In vain do they coax or threaten her about her religion ; in vain oflfor her every possible advantage if she will change it : in vain they take away her chaplain and com- pel her to attend the services of a Protestant minister : in vain refuse her every prayer for spiritual consolation and threaten her with more rigorous imprisonment and loss of credit if she ask for it again ;J her reply is the same for- ever, " As I have lived so I will die in my religion, or, if need be, for it !" There is another cause why the she Pharaoh will not let Mary go. Every day come to her ears reports from the very gaolers themselves, of that lady's beauty, gentleness^ and wisdom, of her forgiveness of injuries and patience, of • lingard, y}. 822, 868. t Labaooff, tt. ST4. % Ibid. iL 185, W. 8. Iv. 276, 818L Maby the Captive. 327 aer exquisite urbanity and courtesy, of her enduring sweet* Hess, although impr soned, robbed of power, of service, of consolation, and half the time of hope, while she the Tudor knows well, however flatterers may speak, that no such tribute comes from any heart to her. For she is shedding the blood of her subjects by hundreds for high treason ; she is saying of the austere Protestant Bishop of London's ser- mon on finery as unbecoming her years, and on the necessity of turning her thoughts to heaven, " that if he touch on that subject again she will fit him for heaven ! That he shall walk there without a staff and leave his mantle behind him she is collaring Sir Christopher Hatton, cufT- ing the ears of her earl-marshal ; spitting on Lord Arun- del's dress ; getting her nose painted red by disrespectful waiting maids, and cursing and swearing about her court with the ready blasphemy of a drunken dragoon.* All these are good causes for Mary's captivity, and she shall rest therein, suffering, until God set her free. From the first days of her vain search for refuge in Eng- land, was the iniquitous scheme conceived. " To detain her in captivity for life," was declared to be "the most con- lUicive to the security of their sovereign and the intereits of their religio7iy\ There they state their own motives, poli- tical and religious ; and on those motives only will they act until the melancholy end. * Ungtf tL 821, 822. Ben. Jooson's leHen of the time, etc, Labaooff tL (XKM t Lhtgard, tL 8X. S28 Mary, Queen of Scots Let us sketch the course of action based upon thesn motives : From May 19th, 1568, to February 18, 1587, eighteen years and nine months, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland, .anguished in English prisons. She entered them a beauti- ful woman of twenty-five, she left them broken and faded, and her still abundant hair white with the chill mould of captivity. These were her prisons : Carslisle, from May 19, 1568. two months. Bolton, (t July 16, " six «• Tutbury, it Feb. 9, 1569, two ** Wingfield, it April 7, " seven *' Coventry, t( Nov. 14, " one " Tutbury, it Jan. 2, 1570, four " Cbatsworth, it May 17, " five ** Sheffield it Nov. 28, •* tbirtcen y'rs and nini Buxton Baths a visit for health. Wingfield, it Sept. 3, 1684, three months. Tutbury, it Jan. 13, 1585, eleven •* Chartley, tt Dec. 24, " one *• Fotheringay, tt Sept. 25, 1586, nine ** Tbe Grave, it Feb. 18, 1587. From one place to another this mournful victim was car- ried as state policy, fear or caprice might dictate. Two or three months out of all this terrible time she was permitted to go to Buxton Baths to restore impaired and near!; Mart the Captive. 329 ruined health, but this was her only relaxation aftei sixteen years of imprisonment. At first she was treated with some of the courtesy due to her exalted rank, to the aid that she had requested and to her personal dignity, only that she was closely watch ed. But this course soon became changed, for mere prison-life, and as we shall see, deprivations of the very necessaries of life. All Protestants were properly indignant at the out- rageous, indefensible and horrible massacre of St. Bartho- lomew. Elizabeth was not personally pleased at her own excommunication ; and she vented her spite as much as possible upon her Catholic prisoner. The various rebel- lions gotten up in England, wherein frequently the name of Mary was made use of, although constantly denied by that princess, but made Elizabeth's hand fall heavier upon her, although proof she could get none of Mary^s complicity. As to the attempts made purely and simply to set the Queen of Scots free, she always said openly that she would do all in her power to promote them, and would of course fficape if ever an opportunity offered. In the five hundred and twelve letters that lie before me now, the poor soul pleads by all that is holy and just and tender and womanly and merciful to be set at liberty Send her anywhere she says, to France, to Spain, to Scot- land, only out of the humid walls, out into God's free oatare and the air of heaven. She pleads by her love foi 830 Mary, Queen of Soots. her child, by her harmlessness, by the ties of kinship ; by her neuralgic agonies contracted in the damps of her pri- sons ; by everything that could not fail to move a human heart, but, alas, she addressed herself to Elizabeth's. Mary was a dangerous person. Says one of Cecil's let- teis: ^ There should very few subjects of this land (England) have access to a conference with tbis lady ; for, besides that Bhe is a goodly personage, she hath, withal, an alluring grace, a pretty Scotch speech, and a searching wit cloudea with mildness^ "Lord Shrewsbury," he proceeds, "is verj/ watchful of his charge, but the queen overwatches them all, for it is one o'clock every night ere she go to bed, I asked her grace, since the weather did cut off all exercise abroad, how she passed her time within. She said that all the day she wrought with the needle^ and that the diversity of the colors made the work seem less tedious ; and she continued so long that even pain made her give over ; and with that, laid her hand upon her side and com- plained of an old grief newly increased there. She then entered upcn a pretty, disputable comparison between carving, pain ing and working with the needle, aflSrming painting in he - opinion for the most commendable quality."* And this is *,he manner and occupation of the ruthless murderess of Darnley, of the lewd and blood-stained mis- tress of grim Both well ! Elizabeth and her cabinet claimed the right to hold hei Mary tue Captive. 831 aaptive by treaty ! because she had borne the arms ot England when in France ! because Elizabeth had the besi right to the Scottish throne, through John Baliol^ competi- tor of Robert Bruce ! and because English subjects k&d complained of Mary " in matters of blood !" Norfolk's intrigues ; Westmorland and Northumbei 'and's rebellion ; Elizabeth's excommunication ; the resist* ance of the persecuted English Catholics ; the massacre of the French Huguenots; everything indeed was visited upon the head of the innocent captive. She was pro- hibited from sending messengers to her friends on the con* tinent. Her own subjects in England were denied access to her. Her letters were intercepted and sent to Cecil. Her faithful servant the Bishop of Ross was cast into prison. She was refused the privilege of even going abroad, and not until her constitution was broken, did her fiendish and implacable cousin revoke the cruel order. Charles the Ninth died, and Catharine de Medicis, who hated her, had all power in France. Her Scottish loyal- ists were gradually impoverished, ruined and destroyed. By-and-by she seemed to be forgotten of all the world. Commissioners were occasionally sent to her to treat of " reconciliation," " leagues of amity," and the like, but these were all attempts to procure Treaty of Edinburgh or abdication or renunciation of her faith. Mary remained firm, and her chains each time were tightened. So premature old age crept over the lovely form and the S32 Mary, Queen of Scots Bweet eyes faded, and the once healthy body grew ftih of aches and pains. At Tutbury she was enclosed on all sidet by fortified walls, on the summit of a hill that lay exposed to every wind of heaven. Within the walls was an ancient hunting lodge made of lath and plaster, the latter damp and crumbled with age. This building was sunk so low that the rampart was on a level with the roof, and not one ray of sunlight could get in to warm the nursling of beau- tiful France. Neither could fresh air penetrate, but driz- riing damps and everlasting fogs covered the furniture with green mould. In this abode she had two small chambers, so cold as almost to defy comfort ; so cold as to sicken every one of her attendants. Her English physician refused to charge himself with her health. The absolutely requisite places were so filthy as almost to preclude the possibility of use, and in order to complete the horrors of this abode, they chose the only window out of which she could see, as the proper position opposite which to hang a priest !* It may easily be supposed that human nature could not long endure this, and on the 2d of May, 1580, she writes from SheflBeld, " Pan douzieme de ma prison^'' reminding Elizabeth of the many letters written to her and to which ihe had not deigned to reply, and imploring her to moder ate the excessive rigor of the treatment "Consider, madam, if you please, that I have aevei Mary the Captive. 333 broken a promise to yoru ; nay, because I have sometimes kept faith with you too inconsiderately, I have greatly suf- fered. Remember that you can make and keep me more your own out of prison, by touching my heart with so iignal a kindness, than you can by guarding my body within four stone walls ; since force has but little influence upon people of my rank and nature, as some experience of the past might have taught you. I am convinced that if you will remember the promise which yo-u gave me with a ring, sometime before the late troubles in Scotland, you will recognize how I, trusting to it, came, of my own free and deliberate will, to place myself in your hands and to reclaim from your plighted word, the support which you promised me against my treacherous rebel subjects. Not only am I a sovereign queen, but your nearest relative in Christendom and your rightful heiress. What reputation then will you gain if you pitilessly permit me to languish BO many years in sc miserable a condition, or if, by a continuation of the same bad treatment I have hitherto received, I end here my days already far advanced. " In truth, when I consider the grievous maladies con tracted by me during these last years, and my present actual state of health, I am forced to believe that I cannot bear the regimen which when young and strong I could have borne, but that before long death must set me free-'** •Labanoff,T.148L 834 Mary, Queen of So^)Tg. To this also no answer. Nor ire these all her sorrows. Her w*\rm and ye^arnirg mother heart must be wrung until it bleed. If she write to the prince, her son, her letters are intercepted; if she implore news from Elizabeth or her mini'^ters, no answer ta returned ; nor is she allowed to send to him and give him, though it were only at second hand, assur<»nces of het love, the counsels of her experience or her hopes in his affec- tion. But the bad news gets to her. .She knows tbat he has forsaken his religion, that George Buchannan. her defamer, is his tutor ; she is sure that if possible they will rob her of his love a?id even his respect. She fears f ^r his very life from ruthless Morton, and ag'\in from fierce Ruthven, who as is well known, carried him off in the famous Gowrie conspiracy or Raid of Rmhven ; and all these maternal griefs were added to her sli*eady almost intolerable sorrow. I will quote her own words for one del?cate religious attention. If she were so wicked as some pay, she might have been allowed a clergyman at least. But for yeai'S she begged to be allowed to see one without h^ing able to obtain permission. Once, as she writes te the French ambassador de la Mothe Fendlon, Nov. 22, ^71, from Tutbury. **J'avoy demand^ ung prestre pour m'adn»xnistrer le Baiaet Sacrement, et, en Testat oil je suis, me rengei de Mary the Captive. 835 Lout c« qui peult nuire a ma conscience, et ledit Baitnoan* qui estoit iiorteur de ma lettre m'a rapporte en lieu de con- solation ung livre difFamatoire par ung athee Bucannan." " I had be?>o-ed for a priest to administer to me the Holv Sacrament, and to help me relieve ray conscience in this sad condition of mine ; and they who carried my lettei brought me instead of consolation the diffamatory hook of the atheist George Buchannan !"f No wonder that to the first clergyman she could write to she said, " I thank you for the good advice, the salutary counsels and learned instructions of which your letter is full. They have given me infinite consolation in my cap- tivity. For me they will be as a mirror or picture to show me daily my shortcomings in action as well as the grace that I shall need, to accomplish the work for which T hope ray God, so merciful and just, hath hitherto left me in the hands of His chief enemies. With all my heart I implore Him that it may be for His glory, and the increase of His Church, rather than for any joy to me whose continuance in sorrow has made me forget th€ charms of the world, to seek my true remedy in the life and death of His Son, our Saviour and Redeemer Jesu? Ohrist. And now I am more than ever resoh ed, by the help of His grace, to follow the pathway which He traced * Bateman, an officer in Shef^eid Castlo. t LabanofT, iv. 5 : C&almers, i. 251. 336 Mart, Queen of Soots. towards the Cross, my part of which in this world I shah be but happy to bear, that so I may gain what He has acquired for me in his kingdom ; a gift so great and ines- 'imable, as to be cheaply purchased even by the sacrifice of all human felicity, though that were separable from the pain and labor of this life."* No wonder also that she wrote such mournful sonnets ai the one which I shall new attempt to translate by way of closing this chapter. It was composed by her in SheflSeld, 1681. Que suis je, helas ! et de quoi sert ma vie ? Je ne suis fors q*un corps prive de coeur ; Un ombre vain ; un objet de malheur, Qui n'a plus rien que de mourir envie. Plus ne portez, 0 ennemis, d-envic A qui n'a plus Tesprit a la grandeur ! Je consomme d'excessive douleur ! Votre ire, en bref, se voira assouvie : Et vous, amis, qui m'avez tenu chere, Souvenez vous que sans heur, sans sant^ Je ne saurois aucun bon ceuvre faire ; Souhaitez done fin de calamite ; Et que, (ji-bas etant assez punie J'aye ma part en la joie infinie ! Alas, what am I ? what is my life's worth ? What but the clay without the soul am I ? Eat a vain shadow ; sorrow's sport on eartn. With but one longing, yearning wish^ — to dia^ > Labanofl; v. TL Mart the Captitk Mentless foemen, do not envy me, For all earth's grandeur fadcth from my bea?t» Soon will your sated anger set me free, And my own sorrow call me to depart. And you, dear friends, so true through all my wot^ Nought can I give you for your love again. Then let your tears for me forget to flow And wish the end of this my lingering pdn f That, travelling wearily life's bitter road, I loo may find repose forever with my Qod ! Chapter VI. Counsel for the Prisoner. Nov 8, 1582. I EARNESTLY ask my readers not to be frightened at tbe extreme length of the following letter. It is the noblest piece of writing that ever came from the pen of the slaughtered Queen of Scotland. Logical, inteihgent, ener- gentic as it is, it is none the less elegant, tender and full of wonderful pathoa. It contains the whole merits of hei captivity, at well as an argument for her innocence. Every syllable, in the original is beautifully written with her own hand ; and ibe Prince de Labanoff, from whom I take it,* says that it has not yet been correctly translated by Blackwood, Whittaker, Chalmers or Mrs. Strickland f It is the most remarkable paper in the history of Mary's life, and I hope that even in my translation some of the interest and excellence of the original will be found. The letter is written from Sheffield to Elizabeth, Nov. 8, 1582 the 14th year of Mary's captivity, and is as follows: OOTTNSSL FOB THB FrISONEB. 339 If ADAM : In consequerce of what I have learned about the late conspi- racies against my poor son, in Scotland, and having every occasion, from my own experience, to fear the consequences, I must employ what life and strength I have remaining, to empty my heart to you ere I die, of my righteous and melancholy complaints. I desire that this letter may serve you so long as you Hve after me, for a perpetual testimony engraven on your conscience ; for my acquittal in the eyes of posterity, and for the shame and confusion of all who, by your own avowal, have so cruelly and unworthily treated me here, and brought me to the extremity in which I now ara. But inasmuch as their designs, practices, actions and procedures, detestable as they have been, have always prevailed with you, agninst my most just remonstrances and ray sincere conduct, and since the power which you hold has aUvays made you seem right in thf» sight of men, I now have recouise to the living God, who has established us both, under Himself, for the government of His pet )ple. I call upon Him, in this extreme hour of ray urgent affliction, to refider to you and to me, that part of merit or of demerit, that each owes to the other, even as He will render it on His final judg- ment. And remember, madam, that from Him we can disguise no- thing, by the coloring and the policy of this world, as my enemies, under you, have temporarily disguised from men, and perhaps frona you, their subtle and malicious inventions and their godless dex- terities. In His name, therefore, and before Him as judge between you and me, I will maintain : first, That by the agents, spies and secret messengers, sent in your name to Scotland while I was still there, my subjects have been corrupted, tampered with and excited to rebel against me, to make attempt ? against my own person, and in & word, to say, do, undertake and exeeute whatever, daring mj 840 Mart, Qfeen of Scots. troubles, has occurred in that country. Of this I will now present no other rerification than the confession of one who has since been one of the most advanced,* and the testimony of those confronted ^ith him ; of one advanced for the good service he has done ; and who, had I then done him justice, would not now, by favor of hia ancient acquaintance, have renewed the same practices against my son. Neither would he have furnished to my treacherous ana rebel subjects who sought refuge with you, the aid and support that they have received since my detention here; a support without which those traitors would not, I think, have prevailed then ; nor have subsisted since then so long as they have done. When in my prison of Lochleven, the late ThrQckmorton couu- ielled me, in your name^ to sign the act of aodication, which he said would be presented to me, and which he assured was valueless ; and valueless it has ever been esteemed in every portion of Christ- endom, except here, where even open force has been lent to support its authors. On your conscience, madam, would you recognize such liberty and power ia your subjects ? Yet my authority was given by my subjects to my son while utterly incapable of exercising it, and since he has arrived at a proper age to act for himself, and, when I would have legitimately assured him in it, it is suddenly torn frona him, made over to two or three traitors,! who having already robbed him of the reality, will soon rob him also, as they did me, of the name and title, should he contradict them at all, and perhaps of hifl life also if God provides not for his preservation So soon as I escaped from Lochleven, and was about to givs battle to my rebellious lords, I sent you back, by a gentleman, a ♦ Rtedolph, whose dealings with the rebels are recorded in the eatller pagei *f Uiis volume.— Vide p. 95w t Leimoz, Mar, Morton, eta Counsel for the Prisoner. 341 diamond ring which I had previously received from you in token and assurance that you would aid me against those very rebels, and even, should I retire towards you, that you would come in person to the frontier to assist me : and this was confirmed to me by varioiw other messages. This promise, coming reiterated from your own mouth (or if not your ministers have frequently deceived me), caused me to put so great confidence in you, that when my field was lost, I came at once to throw myself into your arras, if I might have that privilege as well as the rebels. But on my road to find you, behold me arrested on my way, environed with guards, confined in fortresses and finally reduced, shamelessly, into the captivity which is now killing me ; me who have already suffered a thou- sand mortal pangs. I know you will allege what passed between the late Duke of Norfolk and me; but I maintain that there was nothing in our deal- ings to your prejudice nor against the public good of this realm ; and that the treaty was formed by the advice and still existing signa- tures of the first men of your then council, with an assurance that you too would favor it. How would such personages undertake to perthiade you to approve of an act which would destroy your life, honor and crown, as you declare to all ambassadors and others who speak to you of me ? Meanwhile, my rebels, perceiving that their precipitate course was carrying them further than they anticipated, and th^ truth having appeared that what they uttered against me were slanders^ before the conference to which I voluntarily submitted in this coun* try,* in order to clear myself publicly in open assembly of your ♦ The French is rather iuvertecL Ei la veriU estant apparue des iw pos- tures qu*oti iemoU de moy^ par la Conference a laqueUe je me soubmis tohwtairement en ce pays^ It k this sentence which Labancff says baa kwo seoerally ill rendered, v. Stt. 842 MarTj Queen of Soots. deputies and mine, many among them returned to their lojalty and for this they were pursued by your own forces, besieged in Edinbnrg Castle ; one of the first among them poisoned ;* and another, the least blamable among them, most cruelly hanged, f although, at your request, I had twice caused them to lay down Uieii arm?, under assurance of agreement, which perhaps my eaemies never even intended. For a long time I was willing to try whether patience would mitigate the rigorous treatment to which I have been subjected, especially during these ten years past ; and I accommodated myseli exactly to the order prescribed, during my captivity in this house, as well with regard to the number and quality of my r^rvi- tors, as to the diet and exercise necessary for my health. I have lived hitherto as quietly and peaceably as any one of far lower rank and far more obliged to you than ever I have been ; even depriving myself, to remove all shadow of suspicion or distrust on your part, of the right to demand intelligence from my son and my country. There was neither right nor reason in refusing me this in- telligence, particularly about my son, but instead of that, they la» bored to influence him against me, so to enfeeble both by dis^nsioa You will say I was permitted to send to him three years ago. Hh captivity in Sterlin^^ under the tyranny of Morton, was the cause of your permission^ as the liberty he has since enjoyed is the cau!»e of your refusing a similar permission all this past year. I have at various times made overtures for the establishment of A 80'jnd amity between us, and a sure understanding between our two kingdoms for the future. Commissioners were sent to me for that purpose at Chats worth about eleven years ago. The am baa- dors of France and my own treated of it with your own self. And • liaitUnd of Lethington. t Sb W. Kbkaldy of ^nMifx Counsel for the Peisonee. 343 I, throughout the past year made every possible advantageoua proposition to Beale.* An J what is the result ? My good intentions are mistaken ; the sincerity of my acts neglected and calumniated ; the condition of my affairs made worse by delays, surmises and tuch other arUfices and, to conclude, worse and worse treatment every day, no matter what I may have done to deserve the contrary My too long, useless and ruinous patience has brought me to such a point, that my enemies, accustomed from of old to do me evil, now think they have a right by prescription to use me, not as a prisoner (which in reason I cannot be) but as a slave, whose life and death depends, regardless of God's law or of man's, upon their tyranny alone. I cannot, madam, suffer any longer ; and I musty even in dying expose the authors of my death ; or living, if God shall grant me still some respite, endeavor, under your protection, to destroy, at any price, the cruelties, calumnies and treacherous designs of my enemies, and obtain for myself a little repose during the time I may nave to live. In order therefore to settle the pretended controver- sies between you and me, eulighten yourself, if you please, upon all that has been told you of my conduct with regard to you. Re- read the despositions of the foreigners taken in Ireland, f Let those of the executed Jesuits:]: be shown to you. Give free liberty to any one who will undertake to accuse me, and permit me also to make my defence. If there be found any ill in me, let me suffer for It. I can do so more patiently when I know the reason— but if gfKtd he discovered, mistake me no longer, nor suffer me any more ♦ Secretary of Elizabeth's council, sent really as a spy, ostensibly to treat lith Mary. See her letter to him. Labanoff, v. 288, t During the troubles with O'Neal of Desmond. X Gampian, Sherwin and Briant, executed for high treason for preaching tlui DstboUc Paith.—Iingard, vt 168. 844 Mary, Queen of Scotb to be io 11 repaid. You have so great a resposibility to God and man. The vilest criminals in your prisons, born under obedience to fou. are permitted to justify themselves, and to know both the accu»« 9ta and their charges. Why should the same order not be taken with me, a sovereign queen, your nearest relative and lawful heiress. I fancy that this last quality has been the principal point of my enemies and the cause of their calumnies, that by causing disunion between us, they might slip their own unjust pre- tensions in between us. But, alas, they have little right and less need to torture me any more on that account, for I protest on my honor, that I now look forward to no other kingdom than that of my God, which I see prepared for me, as my best recompense for all my past afflictions and adversities. It will be your duty con* scientiously to see my child put in possession of his rights after my death ; and meantime to restrain the constant intrigues and secret means taken by our enemies in this realm to his prejudice and to advance their own pretensions, while, at the same time, they ar< laboring with our traitors in Scotland to effect in every way hi:i ruin. I ask no better verification of this than the charge given to your last envoys and deputies to Scotland, and the seditious practices of those envoys, of which I am willing to believe yon ignorant, but to which they were diligently incited by the earl, my good neigLbor, at Y3rk.* Apropos, madam, by what right is it main^'ained th&t I, his mother, am interdicted not only from aiding my child in so urgent ft necessity as this, but even from having information about his condition? Who can bring more carefulness, sense of duty and luncerity to this than I ? Whom can it touch more nearly ? At least, if, in sending to provide for his safety, as the Earl ol * Bad of HuDtiz^oo, who bad Boa>« slaim to the Bngiisb tbrooik Counsel for the Prisoner. 34£ Bhretfibury lately told me you have done, if it had pleased you ta receive my advice therein, how much greater (it seems to mej a gratification and obligation on my part would have accrued to you But consider what you left me to think, when forgetting so sud denly the pretended offences of my son, and when I begged that we might send together, you dispatched a messenger to the place of his imprisonment, not only without informing me, but while depriv- ing me of all liberty so that I could not by any means get news of it. Ah, had they who moved you to so prompt a visitation to my Bon, really desired his preservation and the peace of the country, they had not been so careful to conceal it from me, as a thing in which I would not concur with you, and thus caused you to lose the pleasure which you would have received by so doing. To speak more plainly to you, I beseech you to make no more use of such means and persons, for although I hold Mr. Carey* too mindful of the blood from which he is sprung, to engage his honor in any bad action, yet he had an assistant, a sworn partisan of the Earl of Huntington, by whose evil offices, so base an action only could succeed by a like effect. It will suffice me if you will hmt prevent all damage to my son from this country, which is all that I have ever hitherto asked of you, even when an army was sent to the frontier to hinder justice from being done to the detestablo Morton ; and also that none of your subjects shall meddle directly nor indirectly with the affairs of Scotland, unless I, who have a light to such knowledge, know of it ; or without the assistance (A eorjie one on the part of the most Christian king, my good brother, who, as our principal ally, should participate in all this matter, however little credit he may have with the traitors who now detain my son. * Son of Lord Hunsdon, who, on the motber^s aide, was coosin-^smiaD U Enkabeth. 15* B46 Mary, Queen of Scots. Meantime, I declare to you frankly, that I consider thii lui conspiracy* and innovation as a pure treason against the life ol my son, his well-being and that of the kingdom ; and that so long ft8 he remains in the condition in which I hear he is, I shall not believe that any word, writing or other act of his or that may pasa ander his name, proceeds from his own free will, but solely from the conspirators themselves, who risk his life in using him as » mask. Now, madam, with all this liberty of speech which I foresee may displease you in some points, f although the very truth itself, yet I am persuaded you will find it still more singular that I now again fmportune you with a request, which is of the greatest importance, yet which you can most easily grant and effect. It is that, while patiently accommodating myself so long to the rigorous course of this captivity ; while conducting myself in all things with perfect sincrtity, even in the least thing, which interest you but little, I have y^t been unable to assure myself of your good disposi- tion, nor yet give you proof of my entire affection. Therefore, all hope of anything better for the short time I have to live being lost, I implore you, yet, in honor of the bitter Passion of our Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ, I implore you, let me leave this kingdom for some place of rest ; to seek some solace for this poor body so worn with perpetual sorrows, and with freedom of con- science, to prepare my soul for God who is cailicg it day by d%y Believe me, madam (and the physicians you sent me last sum mer, may also have judged of it), believe me I cannot hst long> so that you need retain no jealousy nor distrust of me. Yet, nevei>. Iheless, exact what assurances and just and reasonable conditions • The Raid of Ruthyen or Gowrie conspiraej* t ffigWy probable. Counsel for the Prisoner 347 may seem good in your sight. The greater strength is always on your side to make me observe them, even if anything could make me desire to violate them. You have had sufficient experience and observation enough of my simple promises, and sometimes to my prejudice, as 1 showed you two years ago. Remember, if you please, what then I wrote you, that "by no means, save gentleness, could you bind my heart to yours, even though you confined my poor languishing body for ever within stone walls, for that those of my rank and nature could be cajoled nor forced by any severity whatever." Your prison, without any right or just cause, has already de- stroyed my body, the last of which you will soon see, if my captiv- ity endure much longer, and my enemies will have but short time to satisfy their hatred of me. There remains to me only my soul, which is beyond your power to make captive. Give to it then the liberty to seek, a little more freely, its salvation, which now it longs Cor more than any earthly grandeur. It cannot, I think, satisfy you or be to your honor or advantage, if my enemies crush my life beneath their feet, until I lie suffocated before you ; while on the other hand if you release me, in this extremity (although too late), you will greatly oblige me and mine, especially my poor child, whom by so doing you will perhaps bind to yourself. I will never cease to importune you with this request until it be granted, and therefore I beg you to let me know what you intend, having, to please you, waited without complaint for these two years past, ere I renewed the entreaties to which the wretched condition of my health compels me more than you can imagine. Meantime, pro- vide, if you please, for the amelioration of my treatment here, iince it is beyond my power to suffer longer ; ar i do not leave it to the discretion of any other than yourself, /rowi whom alonCy as I Vrrote you lately, I wish to receive all the good and wU whick 348 Mary, Queen of Soots. Henceforward lam to have in your country. Do me the favor to write your intentions either to me or to the French ambassador foi me, for as to being tied up to what the Earl of Shrewsbury or Others may write in your name, I have had too much experience to pnt my trust in that, their lightest fancy being sufficient warrant for the change of everything about me daily. Besides, when I lately wrote to members of your council you gave me to understand that I was not to address myself to them but to you only, and it is not reasonable to extend their authority only to do me evil, as in this last restriction of theirs, by which, contrary to your desire, I have most shamefully been dealt with. This gives me every reason to believe that some of my enemies in your counsel have expressly hindered other members thereof from hearing my just complaints, and who either knew not the persist- ent endeavors of their companions against my life, or had they known them, would have opposed them for your honor's sake and their duty to you. Finally, I particularly request two things of you : first, that, near as I am to my departure from this world, I may have near me some honorable churchman, who will point out to me daily the way I have to walk, and instruct me to do so according to the rules of my religion, in which I am firmly resolved to live and die. It is a last duty which should not be refused to the most wretched and miserable being. It is a hberty which you extend to every foreign ambassador, and which all Catholic kings extend to yours. And I have ever forced any of my subjects to do anything contrary to their religion even when I had power and authority so to do ? And now in this extremity you cannot act justly and deprive me of tliia freedom. What advantage could you gain in refusing it ? I trust that God will oardon rae, if thus oppressed by you, I render Iliin ihe duty I owe only, as is permitted me, in my heart. Bat ywi Counsel for the Prisoner. 349 irill set a very bad example to tke other princes of Christendom, to use towards their subjects and relatives the same rig»or that you exhibit towards me, a sovereign queen, and your nearest kins- woman, in despite of my enemies, as I am and will be so long as 1 live. I will not importune you now about the augmentation of my Household, of which I shall have no great need during the time I have to live. I only ask of you two chamber-women to take care of me in my illness ; protesting before God that they would be extremely necessary were I even a poor creature of the simple people. Grant them to me for the honor of God, and show that my enemies have not credit enough with you to exercise their vengeance and cruelty in a matter of so little consequence, in so simple an oflSce of humanity. I come now to the accusation of the said Shrewsbury (if accuse me he can), namely, that against my promise given to Beale and without your knowledge, I have negotiated with my son about yielding him the title to the crown of Scotland, after having pro- mised to do nothing without your advice and by one of my sub* jects, who, in their common voyage should be directed by one of yours. These I believe are the precise terms of the said earl. I would tell you, madam, that Beale never received any simple and absolute promise from me ; but several conditional propositions, by which I could not in any way be bound save in the fulfillment ot the conditions upon which they were based by me ; with which conditions he was so little satisfied, that I have never even had iny reply to them, nor in your heart even heard them so much as mentioned since ; and, with regard to that, I remember perfectly well, that the Earl of Shrewsbury, last Easter, desiring to draw from me some new confirmation of what I had said to Beale, I explaiiaed clearly to him, that it was only in case that the said S50 Mary, Queen of Scots. conditiocs were accorded to me, that my words could take eifecl Both are still living to testify to this before you if they will ii Bpeak the truth. Since that, seeing that no answer was made to me, but that, on the contrary, by delays and negligence, ra y ene- mies continued more licentiously than ever their intrigues, arranged since Beale's visit to me, to thwart my just intentions in Scotland, as the effect has thoroughly shown, and have thus opened a door for the ruin of my son and myself, I took your silence for refusal and discharged myself by letters express to you and your council of all that I had treated with Beale. I made you a participant of all that the king, my brother-in-law, and the queen my mother-in-law,* had written to me with their own hands about this affair, and asked your advice about, which t« ttill to comcy although by it it was my intention to proceed had you given it me in time, or had you permitted me to send to my son, and assisted me in the overtures I made you about establishing a sound friendship and perfect understanding between this realm for the future. But to oblige me at once to follow your advice before I could know what it was, and in the journey of our people to make mine subject to yours, even in my own country, I was never so simple as even to think of. And now, if you have known the false play which my enemiei have used in Scotland, to bring matters to their present condition,* I leave it to your consideration which of us has proceeded motft sincerely. God be judge between them and me, and turn from this island. His just punishment of their demerits. Look onc« more, at the intelligence that my traitor subjects in Scotland may have given you. You will find, and I will maintain It before all Christian princes, that I have never done anything to fonr prejudice, nor against the welfare or peace of this kingdom, • Hny IXZ., and Oatbarine de Medlck. * Tbe Raid of Ruthvviw Counsel for the Peisoner. 361 Df which I am do less desirous than any counsellor or subject of JoivtSy having more interest in it than they. It has been suggested to gratify my son with the title and name of king, to assure him of the said title and the rebels' impunity for their all past offences, and fo to put all things in a condition of peace and tranquillity for the future, without any innovation whatever. Was that to deprive my •on of the crown ? My enemies, I believe, do not wish him'sure of it, and for that reason are quite content that he should possess it by the illegal violence of certain traitors, foes from of old of oui race. Was it to seek justice for the past deeds of those trai- tors, justice which my clemency has always surpassed ? An evil conscience can never be at rest, carrying, as it does, its chief fear and greatest trouble continually with it. Was it a desire to change the repose of the country ? — to procure it by a gentle abo- lition of all things past and a general reconciliation of our subjects? What is it that my said enemies fear from that as much as they make demonstration of desiring it? What prejudice could be done to you by this ? Mark down and cause to be verified what other thing there is if yo« please ; I will answer it on my honor. Alas, madam, will you let yourself be so blinded by the artifices of my enemies, who (act) only to establish their unjust pretensions to this crown after you, and perhaps against you? You suffer them, you living and seeing them to ruin, and cause cruelly to perish, those who are so near to you in heart and blood ! What honor oi good can result to you by their keeping my child so long sepa- rated from me and both of us from you ? Resume those ancient pledges of your natura! goodness, draw your own to you by your kindness : give me this contentmeuf before I die, that, seeing all things sett.ed between us, my soul, freed from the body, may not be compelled to pour out its com- plftiatB to God for the wrongs you have suffered to be done to uf 852 Mary, Queen of Scots. herie below, but rather, that departing from this captivityin peace and concord with you, I may go to Him whom I pray to inspire you to see my very just and more than reasonable complaints and frieTances. Sheffield, this 8 November, Your most desolate, nearest cousin, And affectionate sister, To this sad letter there was no reply. Chapter VII. Mary's Last Crime 1583—1568. Lord God the Eternal My hope is in Thee ; Now, Jesu beloved Oh liberate me t From bitterest prison My sighs have arisen In anguish to Thee. With weeping and walling And lowliest Icneeling, t adore and implore thee To liberate me 1 A FEW more sorrows, a little more lingering wiptivity, a new lesson or two of the hollo wn ess of this 1^ arld's truth and worth, a little more' prison-mould to whiten the abund- ant hair and then that yearning supplication shall be granted. She shall see her son desert her, her servants betray her, new enemies defame, old hatred revive B54 Mart, Queen of Soots. against her, the ruin of her health, the destruction of hei hopes, the triumph of her persecutors and yet she shall at ast be able to say, Yet can my spirit turn to Thee, Thou Ghastener, and can bend In humble suppliance at Thy throne my Father and my Friend 1 Thou who has crowned my youth with hope, my early days in glee, Giye me the eagle's fearless wing, the dove's to mount to Thee 1 I lose my foolish hopes on life, its passions and its fears : — How brief the yearning ecstasies of its young careless years ! I give my heart to earth no more, the grave may clasp me now ; The wind whose tones I loved may play in the dark cypress bough ; The birds, the streams, are eloquent, yet I shall pass away, And in the light of heaven shake off this cumbrous load of clay, 1 shall join the lost, the loved of earth and meet each kindred breast, Where the wicked cease from troubling and th# weary are at Fest."* Calumny had not quite done with her, prematurely old tk^ she was, broken-hearted and disapt)ointed in all her affections as she was and physically so re were 1« 362 Maey, Quekn of Scots. purchased, and they did as they were ordered by Walsing ham. That worthy's first attempt was to engage Mary in a correspondence with the conspirators. They succeeded, 60 far as the regaining of her own liberty was concerned, but remained ignorant of any plans against the person of Elizabeth. Walsingham's plan was as follows : A brewer in Chartley, who is mentioned in their corres- pondence as the " honest man," and who carried weekly a load of his nutritive bererage to the castle, was recom- mended, as a trustworthy messenger, by Walsingham to Gifford, by Gifford to Babington, Paget, and Morgan, and by them to poor trusting Mary. This "honest man" received packets from both parties, and delivered them punctually to Sir Amyas Paulet, who, after they had been deciphered by Phillips, read by Walsingham, and care- fully copied, forwarded them to their respective addresses^ newly sealed with counterfeited seals.* Mary wrote two letters to Babington, the second of which •(• was made the principal testimony against her. There is not one word of hers that goes to show a know- ledge of any purpose against Elizabeth. But there are interpolations that can be and were wrested into a proof of such knowledge. The whole letter, with the interpola- tions and the exposure of the fraud, are to be found in prince LabanoflfJ and in my Appendix F. I do not reproduce it, nor touch the argument here, inasmuch as ] • LabandU; f I. SSI f Ibid., tL 888. tXbld.,7l.»a Mart's Last Crime. 363 eoDsider that Mary would have been perfectly justified in adopting any means in seif-defence, and because I wish that this plot had succeeded. Instead of that, however, it was the plot of Walsingham that was crowned with success. So soon as the secretanr supposed that he had accumulated sufficient evidence for his purposes, the conspirators were arrested. Babington and thirteen others were executed ; the first seven, among whom were that unfortunate gentleman, Ballard, and Savage, were hanged, cut down before they were dead^ embowelled, aod then quartered.* As for Mary, she was carried about from house to house for some days, until all her closets, cabinets, trunks, cotters, and caskets had been rified of money, papers, and jewels. Then she was taken back to Chartley. The poor thronged round her to receive her usual alms, which sacred duty her sorrows had never caused her to forget ; but on this occa- sion she had to refuse them. She burst into a passion of tears, as she said, " Alas ! I have nothing to give you. They have taken all from me, and I am a beggar as well as you." f When she entered her disordered and rifled apartments, she looked round her with horror for a moment, collected herself, and then, turning to Paulet, with queenly dignity, eaid — There are still two things which you, sir, cannot take ♦ Bell, ii. 186. t Lingard, vL 209. S64: Mary, Queen of Scots. from me: the royal blood which gives me a right to th€ succession, and my attachment to the faith of my &thei-8." * Naue and Curie were arrested oo the 2d of September and their answers on examination not proving satisfactory, they were threatened with the Tower and the torture unless their replies were more accordant with Walsing- ham's desires. September 25th, Mary Queen of Scots is carried to her last earthly prison-house, the Castle of Fotheringay, there to await her trial and its result.f • Llngard, vi. 211. t The account of Babington^s conspiracy is drawn from M. de Chateatmcaf t contemporary account ; Labanoflf, vi. 274 ; Robertson, 260, 261 ; Bel', iL 181- IfT; Lingard, vL 199-210; Chalmers, 30(m4: Labanofif, vl W*. «S2, 329, 844, Chapter VIII The Grand Commission. 1588. The proceedings which were to be adopted towarda Mary Stuart now occupied Elizabeth and her council. One or two spoke in her favor, but the stronger ones declared that her death was indispensably requisite to the establishment of the new religion^ The Earl of Leicester wrote from Holland earnestly suggesting the sure process of poism^ and sending a reverend divine with the message and with instructions to prove its Christian lawfulness.* But it was finally determined that she should be brought to public trial according to the act of parliament quoted at page 359. The necessary evidence was of course to be pro- duced by Walsingham, who now had the secretaries Curie and Naue prisoners in his house. Here they were con- stantly beset by urgent requests to betray their raistressj 866 Maby, Queen of Soots. backed by threats of torture until they were at length happily brought to the desired disposition, as Cecil thought, and were ready " to yield somewhat to confirm their mis- tress' crimes, if they were persuaded that themselves might Bcape and the blow fall upon their Mrs. betwixt her head and her shoulders."* These delicate preliminary measures having been thut arranged, there remained only to prepare the witnesses, appoint the court, and try the accused. Walsingham had copies of all of Queen Mary's letters for the last year or two, and copies of letters being rather pliable material in skillful hands, he did not despair of bending what he had into some shape that might prove mortal. As for the witnesses it was difficult to manage them. They were a pair of weak pusillanimous scribes whose principal characteristic was a good hand-writing. For some time they refused to say anything about their employ- ment while with their royal mistress, but on being threat- ened with the Towner and the torture, Naue became terrified and wrote to Elizabeth disclosing all that he knew, " upor his salvation." He said that in Babington's letters to Mary, there was an allusion to Elizabeth's death, but that Mary took no fiotice of it, because it was a thing which she neither desired nor intended. Finally, immediately after the execution of Babington and his friends, these miseiable quill-drivers were brought up before Bromley, Cecil and ^ Ungard, vi. 218. The Grand Commission. 867 Hatton, and bullied into some sort of testimony as to Mary's answer to Babington's letter.* They were not shown the letter, nor yet a copy thereof, but simply an abstract of the principal points therein contained," which abstract they were ordered to testify, fairly exhibited Mary's answer. Whether they did even so muchf is unimportant and cannot be discovered now. These were the witnesses. The grand commission was issued to forty-six peers, privy counsellors and judges, who thus formed the court. Among these judges were Cecil, Paulet, Walsingham, Sadler and other personal enemies of Mary. The accused was kept in ignorance of all proceedings until October 12th, when thirty-six of the commissioners having arrived at Fotheringay, Sir Walter Mild may. Sir Edward Barker and Sir Amyas Paulet presented themselves before her and sfave her a letter from Elizabeth. This epistle was full of accusations and reproaches, and ended with a command to prepare herself for trial. f Mary replied that " she found it very strange that Elizabeth should ^rite in such sort, for it was in the nature of a command- ment that she should answer as a subject, but for her part she was born a queen and she would not prejudice her rank or state, nor the blood whereof she was descended, nor her son who was to follow her ; nor would she give so pre- judicial a precedent to foreign princes, as to come tc * See Appendix. t Lingard, vl. 212. X RobwtsoQ, 2631 868 Mart, Queen of Scots. answer as according to the eflfect of those letters ; for hei heart was great and could not yield to any affliction.'* She said further, "that she was ignorant of the laws and statutes of the realm, was destitute of counsel, knew not who her competent peers were; that her papers were all taken from her, and that nobody dared or would speak in her behalf. Afcer all which, she protested that she waa innocent, and had not procured nor encouraged any hurt to her majesty."* With this answer the trio retired, to return again how- ever immediately and press the queen to yield. Sh€ simply reiterated her refusal, adding that Elizabeth had said that she, Mary, had enjoyed and was under the protection of the English laws and was therefore subject to and to be tried by them. But to this she replied that " ever since her coming she had been restrained as prisoner, by reason whereof she had enjoyed no protection of the laws of the knd nor no benefit thereof."! Then she was informed that if she refused to appear and plead, the Commissiolers would simply proceed to try the cause in her absence, and so sondemn her by default. But Mary said, "She was no subject, and would die rather thaj make herself one." She added, that " she never meant avil to the queen, and was not to be proceeded against, for she was no criminal : furthermore, that if she were to act as ji lubject now, she might be drawn within the danger of • Labancff; vii. 87. t Ibid, vli. 4a The Granj? Commission. 669 man} other laws and statutes, and namely for matter of relir/iony Then, with the sad foreboding natural to hef position, she told them that she thought their proceedings was " merely formal, for that she was already condemned by them that should try her, and bade them look well to their consciences with regard to God, and to their honors with regard to the world."* In the night, however, her loneliness and defenceless con dition tempered her high spirit, and her courage somewhat yielded. Besides which. Sir Christopher Hatton's argu- ment that her reputation was at stake, induced her womanly nature to abate somewhat of her resolution. In the morning came another boding growl from the she wolf. " Our pleasure is that you make answer to the nobles and peers of my kingdom, as you would answer to myself if I were present. Therefore T orde^'^ charge^ and command you to answer to them, for I have heard of your (!) arro- gance. But act candidly and you may meet with mmt favor. Elizabeth."! This last line turned the balance, presenting as it did •ome little hope; and Mary Stuart consented to appear before the English Commission. On the 14th of October^ the Court was opened in the great chamber of Fotheringay Castle. A throne was erected to represent the Majesty of England, and facing it, at the lower end of the room, was i ehair for the Queen of Scotland. • lAbaaoff, 44 t Uagard, vi. 241. 370 Mary, Queen of Scots. There came the defenceless woman alone, to confront the ablest lawyers of England. She was ignorant of all their lorras and technicalities — nay, even of their laws ; she was nfused the assistance of any counsel ; she had been nine- teen years a prisoner under close espionage ; her health was gone. Yet fearlessly she nerved her royal heart to confront that terrible array, and alone and unaided as she was, for two whole days she baffled them. The charge was that she had conspired with foreigners to procure — 1. The invasion of the realm. 2. The death of Elizabeth. The prosecutors told her they had her letters to foreign- ers and to Babington. She asked for their production, tnd was refused. They told her that Naue and Curie had testified against her. She demanded to be confronted with them, and was refused. Against such abominable injustice, Mary of course pro- tested. She acknowledged that she had corresponded with various persons to obtain her freedom, but earnestly denied having even for one moment wished or encouraged injury to Elizabeth. Never, in the pomp of her youthful royalty, did she stand before the splendid chivalry of France, or amid the ancient nobles of her own kingdom, with such stately dignity, with luch distinguished pride of innocence, as now, in hopelesa* Dess and hidden pain, she confronted the ministers of her terrible rival's hati^ The Grand Commission. 871 " I have often," she said, made such efforts for th€ recovery of my liberty as were natural to a human crea ture. Convinced by the sad experience of so many years, that it was in vain to expect it from the justice or gene* ix)sity of the Queen of England, I have frequently solicited foreign princes, and called upon all my friends to employ all their interest for my relief. I have likewise endeavored to procure for the English Catholics some mitigation of the rigor with which they are now treated, and if I could hope by my death to deliver them from oppression, am willing to die for th^ir sake. I wish, however, to imitate the ex- ample of Esther-rather than that of Judith, and would rather make intercession for my people, than shed the blood of the meanest creature in order to save them. And, worn out as I now am with cares and sufferings, the prospect of a crown is not so inviting to me that I should ruin my soul in order to obtain it. I am no stranger to the feelings of humanity, nor unacquainted with the duties of religion, and I abhor the detestable crime of assassination as equally repugnant to both. And if ever I have given consent by my words, or even by my thoughts, to any attempt against the life of the Queen of England, far from declining the judgment of men, I shall not even pray for the mercy of God.'^* But of what avail was this ? She had spoken solemn tittth when she said that " they had condemned her al- ready." Chateauneuf had demanded counsel for hsr in the • Robertson, 26& 372 Mart, Queen of Scots. name of the French King, and was instantly refused by Elizabeth, who told him not to " school herP And so, on the third day, the case was carried to the Star Chamber at Westminster, Mary, however, being kept in her chamber at Fotheringay. Then Naue aahly the life lv\ the silvation of Elizabeth was %t 874 Maky, Queen of Scotb iiajce She would offend God by sparing the w?oke^ priucesa whom God had delivered into her hands to be put to death."* Good Puckering ! pious Puckering! Yet not so pious as godly Sir James Croft, who moveJ ** that some earnest and devout prayer to Godj to inchna hif majesty's heart to grant their petition, might be com- posed and printed, in order to be used daily in the House of Commons and by its members in their chambers and lodgings.''^ jf And when to this, the pariiament's petition added that ** while Mary was aiive there could be no security for the queen's person nor for the preservation of the state relU ^ion^'^X how could the pious, pitiful Tudor refuse the prayer of her loving subjects ? She did not, long. On the 19th of November Lord Buckhurst and Beale, clerk of the council, announced to Mary Stuart that she was sentenced to death. She heard it with her usual calm, sweet dignity, and said to them, " After so many suffering's death comes to me as a welcome deliverer. I am proud to think that my life is deemed of importance to the Catholic religion, and as a martyr for it, I am now willing to di©."§ The soecial and resident ambassadors of Fiance inter- ceded earnestly with Elizabeth, but were put oft with • Linsrari, vt m—NoU, t Ibid. f Rob«t60D MB The Gb4.nd Commission. 875 ^tsions and petty artifices. James VI. sent the Master of Gray to plead for his mother, and that wretched villain, while he openly asked for a remission of the sentence hissed in Elizabeth's willing ear, Remember that the dead cannot bite /" So a few more insults to the victim, a little more dally- ing on the part of Elizabeth, and this most infamous mur- der shall be wrought. Shortly after the sentence Paulet entered Queen Mary's apartments and ordered her chair of state and canopy to be removed. This done, he put on his hat and sat down. He next ordered her billiard table to be removed, telling her roughly that she had no need oi worldly amusements and had better prepare herself for death. She replied that she had never played upon it, since he and his employers had kept her busy in other matters. When they tore down the royal arms of Scotland from the wall, she had the place filled by a crucifix, and said that was far better. Then she went diligently to work to set her house in order, that so she might depart upon the journey from which she would not return. Meantime, Elizabeth, after vainly attempting to procure her assassination, signs the death-warrant. Still she endea- vors to get some of the responsibility off her shoulders ; but she finds none of her servants willing to sh-are it. When she hands the signed paper to Davison, one of hei secretaries, she accompanies it with words that might mean she did not wish him to use it. He tries to get an S76 Mary, Queen of Scots. sbftolute direction from her and for a long time fail%. At last he asks plainly, " Does your majesty intend to proceed with the exeeo* lion or not And the queen howls back to him — •YiaIbyGodT* • LlDgard, vl m Chapter IX Last Words. 1687. Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, is now condemned tc death Awaiting either the fatal warrant from the hand of her " dear sister and cousin " or the secret dagger of some member of the " Association," all of whom are em- powered to slay her. Elizabeth prefers assassination. See how she woos Sir Amyas Paulet with dulcet, honeyed words to sully his gentleman's sword with the blood of her much- abused captive and heiresB : *To MY LOVING AllIAS: . " Amias, my most faithful and careful servant, God reward thee triblefold for the most troublesome charge so well discharged. If you knew, my Amias, how kindly, besides most dutifully, my greatful heart accepts and praiseth your spotless endeavors and faithful actions performed iu so dangerous and rrafty a charge, it would 878 Mary, Queen of Scots. kase you^ travail and rejoice your heart ; in which I charge yon to carry this most instant thought, that I canuot balance in any weight of my judgment the value that 1 prize you at, and suppose no treasure can countervail such A faith, and shall condemn me in that fault which yet I never committed. If I reward not such desert, yet let me lack when I most need it if I acknowledofe not such a merit non omnibus datumy * What mean all these hollow sugar-plums ? this empty, honeyed verbiage? this cold and snaky involution of style! Let Mr. Secretary Walsinghara discover the kernel and explain to Paulet the hidden meaning : We find, by a speech lately made by her Majesty, that she doth note in vou a lack of that care and zeal for her service that she looketh for at your hands, in that you have not in all this time (of yourselves, without other provoca- tion) found out some way to shorten the life of the Queen of Scots, considering the great peril she is subject to so long as the said queen shall live. I pray you let both this and the inclosed be committed to the fire, as your answer shall be, after it has been communicated to her Majesty for her tatisfactionP But Paulet, in reply, bewails the unhappy day "in which he is required, by direction of his most gracioui •overeign, to do an act which God and the law forliddetk • Tytier.iuaaa Last Words. 379 Bod forbid . should make so foul a shipwreck of ray con« science, or leave so great a blot to my poor posterity, as thed blood without law or warrant."* Such is rough Paulet's answer to the foul proposals of Kls horrible mistress. She herself must sign the death- warrant, the blood that spouts from Mary's neck must stain those jewelled fingers crimson for evermore. Let us go back to the victim, as she sits now face to face with the King of Terrors. Looking beyond him, and through the mists and darkness of the valley of the shadow of death to the breaking dawn of the eternal day, to the golden light that shall envelop her martyr head, to the repose which her earth-wearied heart shall enjoy, even " that rest which remaineth for the people of God." " With all my heart, m^idam, do I render thanks to God that He, by means of your commands, hath pleased to put an end to my wearisome pilgrimage of life. I do not wish it prolonged, having already had too much time to learn its bitterness. Only, I implore your Majesty, that as I can expect no favor from the zealous ministers who hold the first places in the English state, I may obtain from you only, and liot from others, these following kindnesses : ** First. Since I may not hope for a burial in England icoording to the Catholic solemnities, practised by tha • TyUer, H 822. 880 Mart, Queen of Scots. ancient kings your ancestors and mine ; and since in Scot- land they have violated and defiled the ashes of my fathers, grant that when my adversaries shall be sullied with my innocent blood, ray domestics may bear my body to some consecrated earth to be there entombed ; preferably in France, where repose the bones of the queen my most honored mother: so that this poor body, which never knew repose so long as it was united with my soul, may find it at last when separated " Secondly. Because I fear the tyranny of those into whose power you have abandoned me, I beseech youi Majesty that I may not be executed in any hidden place, but in the sight of my domestics and others, who may be witnesses of my faith and of my obedience to the tru« Church, and who may defend my last hours and my latest sighs from the false reports that my adversaries may cir- culate. " In the third place, I request that my domestics, who have served me so faithfully through so much annoyance, may retire freely whither they may desire, and enjoy the modest benefices that my poverty has left them in my wUl. " I conjure you, madam, by the blood of Jesus Christ, by our kindred, by the memory of Henry VII. our common father, and by the Title of Queen, which I bear still, eveD unto death, not to refuse me stch reasonable demands, and Last Wcrdb. 381 to assure me of them by a word from your own hand ; and thereupon I will die as I have lived, " Your affectionate sister and prisoner, "Marie, Reyne.*** To this letter Elizabeth gives no reply. On the 23d of November, 1586, the Queen of Scoti makes solemn protestation of the faith for which she ifl about to die : "Ibhsus Maria. -I- " Holy Father : Inasmuch as it has pleased God in His divine providence, to order in his Church, that all those who, under His Son Jesus Christ the Crucified, believe in Him and are baptized in the name of the Holy Trinity, should recognize as mother one universal and Catholic Church, whose commandments, with the ten of the law, must be obeyed under pain of damnation, it is necessary that all who aspire to eternal life should have their eyes fixed thereon ; "Therefore I, bom of kings who, like their Kindred, were all baptized in that Church even as I was ; I who, though unworthy, was called even from the breast to the royal dignity, anointed and consecrated thereto by her authority and her ministers, who was nurtured and * LaVanofr, tL 441 882 Mary, Queen of Scots. educated under her aisles and in her bosom, and by hei instructed in the obedience due from all Christians to him whom she, guided by the Holy Spirit, has chosen accord' ing to the ancient decrees and the order of the pi.imilive Church to the Holy Apostolic See (write to you. I recog- nize you) as our earthly head, to whom Jesus Christ, by his last testament, speaking to St. Peter, the foundation ol the Church, the living stone, has given power to bind and loose poor sinners from the bonds of Satan, absolving us, by yourself or your commissioned ministers, from all crimes and sins by us committed and done, if we repent and, as much as lieth in us, make satisfaction for them, after con- fessing according to the command of the Church. " I call my Saviour Jesus Christ, the Most Holy Trinity, the glorious Virgin Mary, all the Angels and Archangels, St. Peter the Pastor, my peculiar intercessor and advocate ; St. Paul, Apostle to the Gentiles ; St. Andrew, and all the Holy Apostles, and generally all the Saints in Paradise, to witness that I have always lived in the Faith of the Univer- sal Church, Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman." After this profession of adherence to her faith, she pro- ceeds to tell that the sentence of death has been read tc her; how her prayer for a priest has been refused, and their offer of a minister declined by her. She repeats their de- claration that the new religion is unsafe while sshe lives, and begs his Holiness to order prayers in the various churches for her and for all who may suffer in her cause ; entreat' Last Wobds. 383 mg him also to befriend, and to incite the Christian monarcha to befriend her servitors. She asks for his gene- ral absolution, proclaims her own unworthiness, and declares that only the blood of Christ, interposed between her and the justice of God, can avail to save her soul. She ex- presses her great willingness to die for her creed, mourns over the defection of her son, and concludes by craving the papal benediction, and by another earnest appeal in behalf of her servants. To Don Bernard de Mendoza she makes much the same complaints, requests and protestations. One sentence ia particularly touching, when we think of the feeling of the writer, a woman, and condemned to death at the moment : '* I hear them at work in my hall. I presume that they are erecting the scaffold whereupon I am to perform the last acene of this tragedy." Her letters to the Due de Guise, and to the Arch- bishop of Glasgow, are to the same effect. I will, however, close here her correspondejice w'.th her last letter to her murderess, Elizabeth, as noble a production as ever came from any victim's pen. It is written from Fotheringay, December 19, 1586: ** Madam : Not having been able to obtain permission froin those to whom you have, as it were, given me up, to liy before you what I had at heart, as well for my acquittal from any malevolence, cruelty, or hostility agaiciit thoae ia 384 Mart, Queen of Soots, whom I am joined by blood, as also to be able to communi cate charitably with you matters which might serve to youi safety and preservation, as well as the maintenance of peacf in this island — a matter which could have done no hurt, since it rested with you to have taken or rejected my ad- vice — to have belisved or disbelieved my discourse, as you deemed best. I am resolved for the future to strengthen myself in Jesus Christ alone, who, to those that sincerely invoke him in tribulation, never is wanting in justice anc consolation, and chiefly at the time when deprived of all human aid they are under His holy protection. To Him be the glory ! He has not disappointed my expectation, having given me courage and force in spe contra spem (in hoping against hope) to endure the unjust calumnies, accu- sations, and contumelies of those who have no such juris- diction over me, which a constat? t resolution to suffer death for the maintenance and siuthority of the Catholic, Apos- tolic and Roman Church. "Now that the final sentence of the states of your realm has been communicated to me on your part — Lords Buck- hurst and Beale having warned mo to prepare for the close of my long and troublous pilgrimage — I have beggei them to thank you on my part for such agreeable news, and to request you to grant me certain points for the discharge of my conscience, in which Lord Paulet has since mformed me that you were willing to gratify me, having restored my ftimofier and the money thai was taken from me, assuriig La t Words 385 me that the rest would follow. For these favors, I sttn anxious to return you thanks, and to ask you a further and last favor, which, for several reasons, I wish to make to you alone. I can look for nothing but cruelty from the Puri- tans, who are now the highest in authority, and the fiercest against me — God knows from what cause ! I accuse nobody, but from my heart forgive each, as I hope for for- giveness myself, especially from God. And since I know that you, more than any other, should be touched to the heart by the honor or dishonor of your blood, and of a queen and of the daughter of a king, I beg of you, madam, for the honor of Jesup. (to whose Name all powers are obedient) to grant that after my enemies have satiated their savage thirst for my innocent blood, you will allow my poor desolate ser- vants to carry my body to be interred in holy ground, with the bodies of my ancestors in France, and especially of the late Queen my mother. I ask this, considering that in Scotland the bodies of my royal predecessors have been outraged, and the churches demolished and profaned, and that suflfering in this country, I cannot find place with your royal predecessors, who^re also mine ; and what is more, according to our religion, we deem it of importance to be interred in consecrated ground. And since the]/ have told me* that you do not wish in any way to force my con- science nor my religion, and that you have even granted me a priest, I hope you will not refuse me this last request • Thm worth of their loformation will roco b« aoe^i 886 Mart, Queen of Scots. which I make you, permitting at least free sepulturo to my body when separated from the soul, since, while they are united, they never obtained liberty to live in repose, though they procured it for you ; for which, before God, I do not blame you ; but may God enable you to see the truth of all after my death. " Ab I fear the secret tyranny of those to whose power you have abandoned me, I entreat you not to allow me to be put to death without your knowledge ; not because I fear torture, which 1 am ready to endure, but on account of the reports that might be circulated unless I suffered in the pres- sence of witnesses who are beyond suspicion. Such calum- nies, I am persuaded, have been circulated respecting others in a different station. I therefore require that my servants gnould be spectators and witnesses of my end in the faith of my Saviour, and in obedience to his Holy Church ; and that afterwards all of them may bear away my body, as secretly as you please, without being deprived of the be- quests I have left them, which are far too small for their faithful services. Be pleased to let me send back a jewel which T have received from you, with my last farewell, or Rooner if you please. I beg of you, besides, to permit me to send a jewel, a last adieu and my final benediction, to my son, of which he was deprived when you informed m« of his refusal to enter into a treaty in which I should be compreliended — by the ill-omened counsel of whom ? This last gomt I leave to your f a vomble discretion and con- Last Words. 387 science ; as to the others, I require of jou, in the name of J?su8 Christ, and in respect to our consanguiuity, and for the favor of Henry VII., your grandsire and mine, and by the honor of the dignity which we have held, and by our common sex, that my petition should be granted. " For the rest, I suppose you very well know that they hare removed my canopy of state in your name, and after- wards told me that it was not done by your command, but by the advice of some of your council. I thank God that Buch cruelty, serving only as a vent for malice, and afflict- ing me after my death had been determined, has not come from you. I fear that other matters have been simi- larly managed, since they would not permit me to write to you, until they had, so far as was in their power, degraded me from my royalty and nobility, telling me that I was merely a dead woman, incapable of any dignity. I should wish that all my papers should be presented to you, with- out alteration, to the end that it might be apparent that is not the mere care for your safety which prompts my per- secutors. If you will grant this, my last request, command that I may see your reply, for otherwise tliey will dispose of me as they please ; and I wish to know your last reply to this my last petition. Finally, I pray the God of Mercy and the just Judge, to illuminate you with the light of Hia Holy Spirit, and to give me grace to die in perfect charity, as I am disposed to do, pardoning all these who have caused or participated in my death. Such will be my prayer to 888 Mart, Queen of Scots. the last. I think myself happy in departing from life fore the persecution which I see impending over this island, if God be not more truly feared, and vanity and worldly policy better regulated and disposed. Accuse me not of presumption, if, in quitting this world and preparing for a better, I remind you that one day you will have to answer for your charge, as well as those who have been sent before you to their doom ; and I desire that you think in time, that from the first dawn of intelligence, we ought to esteem our soul above all temporal things, which should yield to those that are eternal. "From Fotheringay, this 19th of Dec, 1586. ** Your sister and cousin, and wrongfully your prisoner, " Mary, the Queen.*** It is said that this letter drew tears from Elizabeth ; bni, b8 that as it may, it certainly obtained no other notion. * Labanoii; rt ISSl « Chapter X. The Report of the Executioners I DESIRE simply to say that in this chapter I will not even refer to any authority which is even slightly favorable to the cause of Mary Stuart, but will merely give an abstract of the report given by the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, her executioners, to the privy council of her majesty Queen Elizabeth. It will be found in the History of Scot- land by her posthumous enemy Doctor Robertson, Haipers* edition of 1855, page 437. " Upon Tuesday, February 7, we, the earls, came hither, and in presence of her people read to her the proceedings of her majesty's (Elizabeth) commission and bade her prepare herself against the next morning. And to the effect that no Christian duty might be omitted^ that might be for her eomfort, and tend to the salvation of her body and soul in the world to come, we offered unto her, if it would please her, to confer with the (Protestant) Bishop and Dean of Peterbrough, which Dean we had, for that purpose, 890 MakTj Queen of Scots. appointed to be lodged within a mile of that place. Tliere- npon she replied, crossing herself in the Name of the Father the Son and the Holy Ghost, that she was ready to die ic the Catholic Ronj.an faith, which her ancestors had professed and fi*om which sh^e would not be removed. And, albeit we used many persuasions to the contrary, yet we prevailed nothing ; and, therefore, when she demanded the admittance of a priest, we utterly denied that to her. Touching her body (see her last letters) we knew not her majesty's (Elizabeth's) pleasure, and therefore could neither Ray that her petition was denied or granted. For the prac- tice of Babington she utterly denied it. Being charged with the depositions of Naud and Curie to prove it against her, she replied that she accused none, but that hereafter, when she shall be dead, and they shall remain alive, it shall be seen how indifferently she was dealt unthy and what measures had been used to her. " We caused all the soldiers to watch all night, and ordered that only four of her servants should be with her lit her execution, they remaining aloof and guarded with certain persons, so that they might not come near her. "On Wednesday morning, when she was ordered to come down stairs, she obeyed, but stopped upon the staircase to say to Andrew Melville, in our hearing, " Melville, thou hast been an honest servant unto me, aid I pray thee to continue so towards my son. I have not impugned his religion nor the religion of others, but wish him welL And Report of the Executioners. 391 as I forgive all that have offended rae in Scotland, so I would that he should also : beseeching God that hd would send him His Holy Spirit and illun:iinate him. Melville'? answer was that he woukl do so, and at that instant would beseech God for His Holy Spirit to assist him. Then she demanded to speak with her priest, which was denied her^ the rather that she came with a superstitious pair of head* and a crucifix. " After she came to the scaffold, the Dean of Peter- borough, according to a direction that he had received the night before^ would have made a godly admonition to her to repent and die well in the fear of God and in charity to the world. (She refused to hear hisadmomtion), and, thereupon, to the intent that it might appear that we and the whole assembly had a Christian desire that she might die well, a godly prayer, conceived by the dean, was read and pronounced by us all, whereof we cmi show your lordships a copy, " This done, she pronounced a prayier upon her knees to this effect : — To beseech God to send her His Holy Spirit, and that she trusted to receive her salvation in His blood, and of His grace, to be received into His kingdom. She besought God to forgive her enemies as she forgave them : to turn His wrath from this land ; to bless her majesty (Elizabeth) that ^e might serve Him. Likewi&e to be merciful to her son ; to hav« oompassion on His cliurch, and, although, she was net worthy t© b« heard, yet she Lad 892 Mary, Queen of Soots, confidence in His mercy, and prayed all the saints to pray unto the Saviour to receive her. After this, turning to her servants she desired them to pray that her Saviour would receive her. " Then upon petition made by her executioners she par- doned them^ and said she was glad that the end of all her sorrows were so near. Then she disliked the whining and veeping of her women, saying that they ought to thank God for her resolution, and kissing them, willed them to depart from the scaffold ; and so, farewell." " And so, resolutely kneeling down, laid her neck upoi the scaffold, and so the execution proceeded." This is the substance of the report Chapter XI . The Eighth of February. 1587. Ok the 7th of February, in the year of our Lord 168*/, the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, with Andrews, Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, arrived at the Castle of Fotheringay and demanded access to the presence of Mary Queen of Scots. That lady was in bed, but instantly rose, clad herself and ordered the gentlemen to be admitted. Lord Shrews- bury entered first, uncovered, and at his command, Mr. Secre- tary Beale read the death-warrant. Mary made the sign of the cross, bade them welcome and thanked them for their message. She told them how glad she was to be released from her many bitter sorrows, and laying her hand upon the Holy Gospels, called their inspirer to witness that she was guiltless of any attempt upon tiie life of the Queen of England. 394 Mary, Quken of Scots. The Earl of Kent was kind enough to observe, " That book is a Popish Testament, and of course tLe oath is of no value." " It is a Catholic Testament," said the ladj, gently, " and on that account / prize it the more ; and therefore, accord iBg to your own reasoning, you ought to judge niy oath the more satisfactory." His lordship then recommended to her to renounce hei Papistical superstitions ; but she declined to do so. Then she asked for her chaplain the Abbe Le Preau, but Kent told her " that to grant such a request would be contrary to the law of God, and would endanger the safety both of the bodies and souls of the commissioners." After some conversation, she asked when she was to suflfer, and was told, " At eight o'clock to-morrow morn- ing." When the gentlemen retired, her attendants, whom she had requested to be present, burst into a passion of tears; but she bade them to be still. " This is not a time to weep," she said, " but to rejoice. In a few hours you will see the end of my misfortunes. My enemies may now say what they please; but the Earl of Kent has betrayed the secret, that my religion is the real cause of my death. Be then resigned, and leave me to my devotions." The earl had said to her, " Madam, your death will b« the life of our religion, as your life would be its death." Some hours she passed with God in prayer, and then at The Eighth of Febkuary. 395 •upper-time came out. She ate lightly, and drank a glass of wine to the health of her servitors, who threw them- selves upon their knees and pledged her back, while the great irrepressible tears burst from their eyes and dropped in the crimson wine. Then she humbly begged their for- giveness if she had ever spoken or acted unkindly, and pardoned them for any possible shortcoming of theirs. Then she wrote to Henry of France and to the Duke of Guise, begging them to be kind to these faithful, loving hearts, who clung to her in this last extremity; and to Le Prdau, her chaplain, to moan that she was not allowed to see him in this awful hour, to make protestation of her firmness in the faith, to tell him how much she suffered because he could not be nigh her to give her the last sacraments of her religion, and the last consolations that the ministers of God's Gospel of pity are commissioned to give to the dying sinner, who seeks him with such humble love and trust as Mary Stuart did. " Oh, father," she pleads, " pray with me and watch with tne this night, for the satisfaction of my sins, and send me your absolution. I will try to see you in their presence, and, if I be allowed, will demand your benediction on my knees. Tell me the best prayers for to-night and to-morrow, for my time on earth is short." * Then through the long night, with the sound of the hammer on her scaffold ringing from the next room, she ^ Labanofi; tL 896 Mabt, Queen of Sootb. knelt before the agonized figure of her dear crucified Redeemer. She read the divine history of his sacred passion ; she read a sermon on the subject of the penitent thief; she drew from the bleeding lips of the five wounds of Jesus the blood of remission and the waters of consola- tion; and her saintly soul grew strong within her, and leaping, with the renewed strength of God's pardon, up from the sorrowful earth, found rest and refreshment already on the bosom of that dear Lord who died for her. At four in the morning she lay down upon her bed, but not to sleep. Her attendants, looking on her steadfastly, saw, through the mist of their tears, that her lips were , moving in incessant prayer. Oh, did through those moments of repose, did the smile of her mother reappear ? did her glad, sweet youth in loving France come back? did she see the sunny skies or the purple bloom of the vineyards? was the pomp of her young royalty visible? was the shadow of her yearning human love between her heart and heaven ? I fancy not ; I think that she but heard the choirs on high, saw but the crown eternal, but the unfading palm-branch, but the blue rushing of the stream of life that floweth from the throne of God and of the Lamb. At day- break she arose, called her small household round her, and once more bade them farewell : read to them her last will: gave them her money and apparel, kissed the wild The Eighth of February. 897 •obbing women, and gave her hand to the strong men, whil ^AXKMAN, who gave her name to this sect of fanatics, was of Connecticut ; a poor, uneducated, but ambitious and shrewd woman. Brought by poverty to a near relationship with the streets, which she trod in daily pilgrimage in search of food and raiment, she conceived the idea of self-aggrandizement, to result from the fallacies of others less strongly-minded, but equally as ignorant as herself. Assuming the garb of religion, she sought the privilege of praying with the sick. This in some instances accorded her, she took the advantage of it; in her incapacity to convict, she con- fused the minds of the invalids who listened to her. Enchantment and the virtues of hemlock in the art of saving, afforded her abundant themes, and by long suffering she not only convinced herself of the truth of what she preached, but obtained a few con- verts. A man named Sly, a few relatives and somewhere about a dozen outsiders, meeting in solemn conclave, after prayer and the reading of the Scriptures, actually certified that the Angel oi God was seen to descend on her, and they at once dubbed her a "prophetess." We next find her preaching to the faithful few, her discourses being invariably based upon the one text from the Lith verse of the 2d chapter of Hebrews. Time passed on, and proselytes flocked in. Thus establisbedi Appekdix. m ibe pnrgned her conrse of money-making, drawing upon the pock- ets of her fanatical followers, until she capped the climax by accus- ing one Amos Hunt of bewitching her. Thus she collected five hundred dollars. So far had she now possessed herself of the minds of her adherents, that at her will means were taken to crush the evil spirit, said to be this Amos Hunt, whose surviving was an hindrance to her schemes. Justus Williams, too, had come under her wrath, and he became the first victim of their fanatical zeal. The whipping with peeled witch-willow sticks, the killing by cut- ting the throat we pass over, remarking only on the supposed power of the Prophetess exemplified by stabbing the form of the cross on the body of deceased. Charles Sandford, another of this precious crew, followed with his deeds, and as the blood flowed from the wounds he inflicted on his two victims, Messrs. TJmderfield and Sperry, he stood over their corpses and gloated in the cry ol " blood, blood, how bright it seems, and how easy it flows. Who would not have blood for the redemption of man ?" The prayers of these fanatics, offered up in regard to Amoa Hunt, shows the animus that promoted them. It reiterated the charges of anti-Christian possession, and prayed God to relieve the world by putting a curse on this man. " When he dies," said the prophetess, " the world will be redeemed, and I shall lead my fol- lowers to the glory of the future." This is a noticeable case of the results following this class ol disease. It presents more features of the brutal insensibility caused by misplaced zeal, than can be found in recent relations of life. One chief idea in this creed was, the necessity of mut* dering somebody for the advancement of religion. A PPSIf DIX {O.y-^ee page 101. Db SiiTON, le 6 Janvier^ 1561-0. firlcHT excellent, right heich, and micbtie Princesse, owr dearest sister and cousine, we grete yow wele. Quharas, by your letters of the 23th of november, we understand that, for owr answer gevin to sir Peter Mawtas, as he has reported it, ye se na cans to be thairin sa wele satisfeit as ye luikit for, we can nocht wele imagyn quhat lack culd be fund thairin : far as our meanyng in the self is, and hes ben sincere, just and upright, sa in the uttering of owr mynd to him, we sa temperat owr answer, as we thocht mycht wele stand with zowr contentment, and quietnes of ws baith : and to that end wissit that the treaty quhilk ze require to be ratefyit, might be revewed by some commissioners suflSciently authorizat on baith parties ; quharanto ze have in zour letter apponit sic ane just and necessarie consideratioun, that the warld sail nocht, by cure dealing, be oppin assemblee of ambassadours, take occasioun to judge that thamytie is nocht sound, hot in some poyntts shakin or crasit. As we nocht onlie do wele allow, bot alsua takis the same for a plane declaratioun of zour gude mynd and ane infalli- ble takin of zour naturall gude luifment towert ws. And thairfore quhair fe think it bettir that we suld communicate athir prevelie to zour servand, Thomas Randolphe, or rather be oure own letters to zoTi, quhat be the very just causep that move us thus to etfiy Id Appendix. 407 the ratificatioun : we do willinglie embrace that same rathei , and pr©«entlie meaiie so plaine to utter oure mynd 'into you, as ze sail wele persave the memory of all former strange accidentis is clene extinguissit upoun oure part, and that now, without any reserva- tioun we deale franchlie with zou, in sic sort as is convenient for tua sisters, professing sic firm amitie to treate togidder. We lei* at this time to tweche in quhat time that the treaty wus past, be quhais commandment, quhat ministeris, how thay war authorizat ; or particularlie to examyn the sufficiency of thair comissioun; quhilkies heides are not so slender, bot the leist of tham is worthy of sum consideratioun : onlie will we presentlie tweche that hede, quhilk is mete for us to provide, and that quhilk on zour part is nocht inconvenient, but sic as in honour, justice and reason ze may wele allow. How prejudiciall that treatie is to sic title and interefl as be birth and naturall discente of zour awin hnage may fall to us, be veray inspectioun of the treaty itself ze may easeUe persave ; and how slenderlie a ma,tter of sa greit consequence is wrappit up in obscure termis. We know how neir we ar discendid of the blude of Ingland, and quhat devisis has been attempit to make us, as it wer, a strangear from it. We traist, being so neir zour cousine, ze wald be laith we sould ressave so manifest ane injurie, as awnterlie to be debarrit from that title, quhilk in possibilitie may fall unto us. We wil deale francMie with zou, and wiss that ze deale freudlie with us; we will have at this presentt na juge of the equitie of oure demand, but zour self. Gif we had sic a mater to creat with any uther prince, thair is na persoun quhais avise we wald rather follow : sa greit a count do we make of zour amytie towert us, and sic a opinion have we conceyvit of zour uprightness In judgment, that althot the mater partlie tweche zour self, we dar aventure to put mekle in zour handes. We will require nathing of you, bot that quhilk we could wele fynd in oure har^ to grant unto you, gif the like caise wer ours. For that treatie, insafer as conceernis ns, we can be content to do all that of reasoun may be requirit of us, or rather to eutre into a new of substance, as may stand without oure awin pre* 408 Appendix. (udice, in favouris of you and the lawchfuU of zour body ; pro- vidit alvayes that oure interest to that crown, failzeing of zour sell and the lawchfuU ishe of zour body, may thairwithall be put in gude suretie, with al circumstances necessar and in forme requisit • quhilk mater being anys in this sort knyt up betwix us, and be the meanes thairof the haill sede of disscntioun taken up by the rute, •re doubt nocht bot herefter oure behavour togidder in all respectii Ball represent to the warld als greit and firm amytie, betwix quhat- Bamever cupple of dearest frendis mentionat in thame, — lat be to surpass th« present examplis of oure awin age — to the greit con- fort of oure subjects, and perpetuall quietness of baith the realmes quhilkies we ar bund in the sicht of God be all gude meanys to procure. We leif to zour awn consideratioun quhat reasonis we mycht allege to confirme the equitie of our demand, and quhat is proba- ble that utheris wald alledge, gif they wer in oure place, quhilkies we pas over with silence. Ze see quhat abundance of luif nature hes wrocht in oure barte towartis you, quhairby we ar movit rather to admit sumthing that uthers perchance wald esteme to be an inconvenient, then leif ony rute of breache ; and to set aside the maner of treating accustomat amanges utheris princes, leving all ceremonys, to propone and utter the boddum of oure mynd nakitlie without ony circumstances ; quhilk fassioun of deling ii our opinioun deservis to be answerit in the like franknes. Gif God will graunt ane gude occasioun thai we may mete togidder, quhilk we wyss may be sone, we traist ze sail mair cherelie persave the mnceritie of oure gude meanying than we can express be writing. In the meane season we desire zou hartelye, as ze terme us zour gude sister, sa ymagin with zour self, that we ar sa in effect ; and that ze may ?uk9 for ua les assurit and firme amytie at our handes, than we war zour naturall sister in deid ; quhairof ze sail fra tyme to tyme have gude experience, sa lang as it sail pleis zou to con- tinew on zour part the gude intelligence begun betwix us. And thus richt excellent, richt heigh and michtie Princesse, oure deirest lister and cousine, we commit zou to the tuitioun of the Almichty. AVPEMDIX. 409 Geren under owre signet, at Say ton, the fift day of januar, and of oure reigne the twenty zere 1661. Zour gud sister and loving consign, Marie R Au dos : To the richt excellent, right heich and michty FrioeetM DOT dearest listee and cousin The Quene of iNGuoiDb 410 A PP SH DIX Part of N. Hubeit's, or French Paris's. confession concern ing the above letter : Interrogne quant prcmierement il entra en credit avec la Royne? Resp. — Que ce fust comme la Royne fust a Kalendar, allant i Glasgow ; qn'allors elle lui bailla une bourse la, ou il avoit envyron >u 3 ou 200 escus, pour la porter a Monsieur dc Boduel ; lequel aprez avoir re9^ia la dicte bourse sur le cherain entre Kalendar et Glasgow, lui diet que le diet Paris s'en alia avec la Royne, et qu'il se itnt pres d'eile, et qu'il regardast bien a ce qu'elle feroit, lui disant y?^; la Roy as hiy donncralt des letters pour les lid porter. La Royne estant arrevtCe a Glasgow luy diet, je t'envoyra a Lisle- bourg (i. e. Edingburgh) tient toy pr^^st ; et ayant de^aeure Id dexix iours avec lad. dame, laquelle escript des lettres et a luy les bailla, dysant, Vous dires de bouche a Mou"Pieur de Bonduel qu'il bailie ces lettres qui s'addres.ient a Monsieur de Lethingtou a luy mesme, et quMl parle a luy, & voyez les parser ensemble, & regardes la fasson de faire, & quelle miene ilz feront, car c'est ce, disoit elle, pour Eijavoir, lequell est meilleur, ponr loger Roye a Craig miliar, ou a Kirk-a-field afin d'avoyr bon air. Esiant led. Paris arryve a Lislebourg^ trouve led. de Boduel m son loijis h VAhbay^ lequel lui dist, Ha Paris, tu es le bien verue. Moii>3ieur, dict-il, ?oici des lettres que la Royne vous envoye ^ ^9e\ f VC»a^lou» ib Appendix. 411 fiiddington, voua priaut de les luy delivrcr, & que, je vous y'la parler ensemble pour veoir votre fasson de faire, ct comment voua accordiez ensemble. Fort-bien, dit-il car j'ay ce jourd'huy parle a luy, et luy a donne une haquierre. Le lendemain led. Paris diet, qu'il vim au logis dud. Boduel par trois fois le chercher, a 8, 9, & 10 heures, & ne sceut jamais trouver ; & Tayant cherche il voit venir une iroupe de gens de vers le Kirk-de-Field, la ou estoit led. Sieur ment, comme aussy a tels aultres que je trouveray estre necessaire. Mais 11 fault que fassiez choiz bien a propos de quelque personnage secret et fidele pour nianier ceste affaire avecq Mendoza et aultrea hors du royaume, duquel seul vous vous puissies tous fier, afin que ladicte negociation soyt tenue tant plus secrete ; ce que je vous recommande sur toutes choses pour vostre proper seuret^. Si vostre messagier* vous rapporte une,responce bien fondee et cer« taine asseurance du secours que demandez, vous pourres alors don- ner ordre (mais non dcvant, car ce seroyt en vain) que tous ceux de vostre party par de^a facent provision, le plus secrettement qu'il sera possible, d'armes, bons chevaux et argent coraptant, pour estre prests a marcher avec tout cest ecquipaige aussy tost qu'ilx seront mande par leurs chefs et conducteurs en chasque comt6. Et, a fin de tant mieulx pallier cest affayre (communiquant settle- ment aux principaux le fondement de Pentreprinse), il suffira, pour ung commencement, que donniez seulement a entendre aux aultrea que tous ces aprests ne se font a aultre fin que pour vous fortifier cntre vous mesmes, si la n^cessit^ le requeroyt, contre les puritaina de ce royaulme, dont les principaux, commandant es Pays-Bas, avecq les meilleures forces de ce diet royaume, auroyent entreprins (comnie vous en pourres faire courir le bruict) d'exterminer a leur retour tous les catholiques et d'usurper la couronne. non seulement contre moy mesmes et les aultres quy y ont legitime pretension, mais, qui plus est, contre leur propre Royne qui rigne a present, si elle ne vouldra consentir de se laisser enti^rement gouverner a leur appetit. Ces plainctes pourront servir fort a propos pour fonder et establir une assotiation et confederation gen^rale entrf « Gilbert GUTord. Appendix. 411 fOTM tons, comme pour vostrc juste deffense et conservation d« vostre relligion, vies, terres et possessions, contre I'oppression et entreprinses desdits puritains, sans rien toucher directcment paf escript, rien qui puisse estre au prejudice de la Royne ; a la preser- vation de laquelle et de ses legitimes heritiers (ne faisant toutes- fois en ce point auoame mention de moy) vous ferez plustost sem- Want d^estre tres afFectionnez. Ces choses estant ainsy prepareea, et les forces, tant dedans que dehors le royaulme, toutes prestes, il fauldra [ahrs mettre les six gentilshornmes en besoigne et^ donner ordre que [leur dessetng estant effectue^'] je puisse, quant et quant, estre tiree hors d'icy, et que toutes voz forces soynt en ung raes- mes temps en campaigne pour me recevoir pendant qu'on attendra le secours estranger, qu'il fauldra alors haster en toute dilligence. [Or, d^aultant qu'on ne peust constituer vmg jour prefix pour VaC' complissement de ce que lesdicts gentilshmnmes ont entreprins, Je vouldrois qiCilz eussenc tousjours aupres d^eulx^ ou pour le moings en cour, quatre vaillans hommes hien monies pour donner advis en toute dilligence du succez dudict desseing^ aussytost quHl sera effectui^ a ceulx qui auront charge de me tirer hors d'icg^ afin de s'*g pouvoit transporter avant que man gardien soyt adverty de ladicte execution^ oUy a tout Je mx)ings^ avant quHl ayt le loisir de se fortifier dedans la maison^ ou de me transporter ailleurs, 11 seroyt 7iecessaire qu^on envoynst deux ou trois de ces diets advertisseurs par divers chemins^ afin quey Vun venant, a faillir, Vaultre puisse passer oultre ; et il fauldroyt en un mesme instant essay er (Fempescher les passages ordinaires aux postes courriers.*^ C'est le project que je trouve le plus a propos pour ceste entre* prinse, afin de la conduire avecq esgard de iiostre propre seuret^. De s'esmouvoir de ce coste devant que vous soyez asseures d'ung bon secours estrangier, ne seroyt que vous mettre, sans aulcun propos, en dangler de participer a la miserable fortune d'aultres * Les passages imprimis en italiques et entre crochets, p. 887 et 889, relatift au projet d'assassinat, presentant une contradiction evidente avec ce qui suit Immediatement, j'ai la conviction que ce sont les luterpolatioua faitee pai Pbellppes dauE le chiflfre originaL 18* 418 Appendix. qui ont par cydevant entreprins sur ce suject ; ec de me tirer hori d'icy sans estre premi^rement bien asseurez de me pouvoir mettr« au milieu d'une bonne armee ou en quelque lieu de seurete^ jusquea a ce que noz forces fusseat assemblees et les estrangiers arrives, ne seroyt que donner ass^s d'occasion a ceste Royne ia, si elle me prenoyt de rechef, de m'enclorre en quelque fosse d'ou je no pour- lois jamais sortir, si pour le moings j'en pouvois eschaper a ce prix la, et de persecuter avecq toute extremity ceulx qui m'auroynt assists, dent j'auroys plus de regret que d'aversite quelconque qui me pourroyt eschoir a moy mesmes. Et pour aultant, il fault que ie vous admoneste de rechef, le plus instamment qu'il m'est possi- ble, que preniez garde et usiez d'ung soing et vigilance extraordi- naire pour acheminer et asseurer si bien tout ce qui apartiendra a Texecution de cest entreprinse que, moyennant I'ayde de Dieu, vous la puissies conduyre a une bonne et heureuse fin, remettant au jugement de noz principaulx amis de par-de^a, avec lesquels devez traicter cy-dessus, qu'ilz advisent sur ledict project (lequel ne eervira que pour une proposition et ouverture) comme tous ensem- ble trouverez le plus expedient; et a vous en particulier je remeta aussy d'asseurer les gentilshommes susdits de tout ce qui sera requis de ma part pour Tentire accomplissement de leurs bonnea intentions. Vous pourres aussy adviser et conclurre tous ensem- ble si (en cas que leur desseing ne prenne pied, comme il peult advenir) il sera neantmoings expedient ou non d'entreprendre m» delivrance et I'execution du reste de Tentreprinse. Mais, si le malheur vouloyt que ne me puissiez avoir, pour estre enfermee dedans la Tour de Londres ou en quelqu'aultre lieu avecq plus grande garde, ne laisses pourtant, je vous prie pour I'houneur de Dieu, de poursuivre le reste de Tentreprinse ; car je mourray tous- Sours tres contente quand je s^auray qu'estes delivres de la misem- ble servitude en laquelle estes detenus captifz. J'essayeray de faire prendre les armes aux catholiques d'Escosse et de leur uettre mon filz entre les mains au mesmes temps que ees choses s'effpctueront icy, afin que par ce moyen noz ennemyi ne puissent tirer aulcut eecoure d'illecq. Je vouldrois ausay qo'oB Appendix, 419 ^aschat a fuire qiielqu'esmeute en Irlande, laquelle derroyt com* mencer ung peu auparavant qu'on feit rien par detja, afin que ralarme fust donnee en ung endroict tout contraire a celuy ou Ton pretend faire le coup. Yoz raisons qu'on doyt avoir ung general ou chef principal me semblent fort pertinentes, et pour tant seroyt bien a propos d'es- }ayer le comte d'Arundell obliquement, ou quelqu'ung de ses fr^res, et mesmes d'en rechercher le jeune comte de Northumberland, s^il se trouve en liberte. D'oultreraer on peult avoir le comte de West merland, le nom et la maison duquel peult beaucoup, comme s^avez, au pays du nord, et le mylord Paget, qui a aussy oeaucoup de moycns en plusieurs corntes, d'icy pres ; Tung et Taultre pourront cstre secrettement rammencs en ce pays, et avecq eulx plusieurs aultres des principaux bannys, si Tentreprinse vient a prendre pied. Ledit mylord Paget se trouve de present en Espaigne, ou il pourra traicter tout ce que luy vouldr6s communiquer, soyt directement a luy mesmes, ou par son frere Charles, touchant ceste affaire. Pren- nez garde qu'aulcuns de voz messagiers, qu'envoyerez hors du roy- aume, ne portent iettres quelconques sur culx : ains envoyez lea despeschcs devant ou apres eulx par quclques aultres. Donnas vous garde des espions et traictres qui sont entre vous, mesmement de quelques prcstres qui ont esto desja pratiques par noz ennemya pour vous descouvrir; et surtout ne portes jamais sur vous aucua papier qui puisse nuyre de fa^on que ce soyt ; car de seniblables erreurs est par cy-devant procedee la condemnation de ceulx qui ont este justiciez, contre iesquelz on n'eut sans cela rien prouver- Ne discouvres voz noms ny intentions que le moings que vous pourres a Tambassadeur de France qui est a Londres ; car combien qu'il Boyt, a ce que j'entends, ung fort honneste gentilhomme, de bonne conscience e<. relligion, si me doute-je que son maistre ne tienne avecq ceste Royne la ung aultre train tout contraire a noz intentions, qui pourroyt egtre cause de luy faire interrompre noa desseings s'il en avoyt la cognoissance. J'ay jusques a present faict instance qu'on changeast mon lo^is 8t pour responce on a nomm4 le soul chasteau de Dudley, comme Appendix. € plufc propre pour m'y lo^«r, tellemeat qu'il y a apparence Cfut ii dans la i5n de cest est6 on m'y menera. Poiirtant advisez, aussy- tost que j*y seray, sur les moyens dont on pourra user es enviroM pour m'en faire eschapper. Si je demeure icy, on ne se pcult ser- vir que d'ung de ces trois expedients qui s'ensuyvent : le premier qu'a ung jour prefix, comme je seray sortye pour prendre Pair i cheyal sur la plaine, qui est entre ce lieu et Stafford, ou vous S9ave2 qu'il se rencontre ordinairement bien peu de persounes, quelques cinquante ou soixante hommes bien montez et armez me viennent prendre ; ce qu'ilz pourront ays4ment faire, mon gardien n'ayant communement avecq luy que dix-huict ou vingt chevaulx, pour* veus seulement de pistolles. Le second est qu'on vienne a minuict, ou tost apres, mettre le feu granges et estableo que tous s^av^a estre aupres de la maison, afin que les serviteurs de mon gardien y estant accourus, voz gens ayant chascun une marque pour se recognoistre de nuict, puissent ce pendf?ine madamc de Guyse, et la prie la prendre en son service ; et ma t^ate de Saint Pierre, faire mettre Movbray en quelque bon lieu, ou a vetenir Of lOQ service pour Thonneur de Dieu, Paict ce jourd'huy 1 fevrier Ainsi sign 6, List n Principal Works Consuitei^ t»ABANOFF, Kince Alexandre — " Lettres Instructions, nt l^cwwiwi de Marie Stuart, Reine d'ficosse, publics sur les originaux et leg Manuscrits du State Paper Office de Londres, et des prin- cipales archives et bibliotheques de TEurop*.' 'i Jola, 8va London and Paris, 1845. BucHANNAN, George — " A Detection of the Actions of Mary, Queen of Scots, concerning tne Murder of her Husband and her Con- spiracy, Adultery, and Pretended Marriage with Earl Both well, and a Defence of the true Lords, Maintainors of the King's Majesty's Action and Authority." London, 1721. Strickland, Agnes — " Lives of the Queens of Scotland," etc. Vols. iii. iv. v. and vi. New York, 1854. LiNGARD, John — "History of England." Yol. vi. London, 1854. Criminal Trials — " Trials of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton and Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk." London, 1832. McRie, Thomas — " Life of John Knox," etc. Philadelphia. Voltaire — "Essai sur les Moeurs, Marie Stuart." Paris, 1838. Robertson, William — " History of Scotland," etc. New York, 1855. Chalmers, George — " Life of Mary, Queen of Scots, drawn fioa the State Papers," etc. Philadelphia, 1822. 4:30 Peincipal "Works Consulted Tytler, William — " An Inquiry, Historical and Critical, into thf Evidence against Mary, Queen of Scots," etc. London, 1790. Knox, John — " History of Reformation." Glasgow. J. BurneS; 1792. Bell, Henry Glassford—** Life of Mary, Queen of Scots." New York, 1840. Attoun, W. E. — **Bot«well, a Poem." troston, 1857. Walters — " Lift of Mary. Queen of Scots. Family Library. Fliiiadelphia, 1^84. Scott, Sir Walter — TaJea cf a Grandfather." Ajibot /aoob — History of Mary, Queen of Sc^te." Jotk PUBllClilllS OF P, J, KENEDY, Catholic Publishing House, 5 BARCLAY ST., Near Broadway, Opposite the Astor House, NEW YORK. for the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Dedicated to asso- ciates of League of Sacred Heart. Net 50 Adelmar the Templar, a Tale of the Crusades 40 Adventures and Daring Deeds of Michael Dwyer 1.00 All about Knock. 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