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3 1924 091 786 164
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http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924091786164
HISTORY OF MARY STUART.
> '1
J.LeLoh ) ^^"''
HISTORY
MARY STUART,
QUEEN OF SCOTS.
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL AND UNPUBLISHED MS.
OF
PROFESSOR PETIT,
BY
CHARLES DE FLANDRE, F.S.A. Scot.,
PROFESSOR OF FRENCH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN EDINBURGH.
"D'aller faire le neutre ou I'indifferent sous pretexte que j'ecris une histoire
serait faire au lecteur une illusion trop grossiere." BossUET.
"Quand on est malheureux, on n'a pas beaucoup d'amis.''
L'iMpfRATRicE Eugenie.
VOLUME II.
LONDON: LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.
1874.
3
f\L-f^^3^
HISTORY OF MARY STUART.
CHAPTER XX.
1581— 1583.
POSITION OF MARY STUART — HER RELATIONS WITH HER SON— SHE CONFERS UPON HIM THE
TITLE OF KING — THE DUKE D'ANJOU IN LONDON — AGITATION AMONG THE CLERGY —
DEPARTURE OF THE DUKE D'ANJOU — PROJECTS OF LENNOX — STATE OF THE CLERGY
IN SCOTLAND — SERMONS OF DURIE — CAPTIVITY OF JAMES VL — DEFECTION OF THE
EARL OF ARRAN — DEPARTURE OF LENNOX — HIS DECLARATION — GRIEF OF THE QUEEN
OF SCOTS — HER LETTER TO ELIZABETH — FRENCH ENVOYS IN SCOTLAND— BEALE AND
MARY STUART — ^JAMES VI. RECOVERS HIS FREEDOM.
T T is a sad thing to be a prisoner ; but, if imprisonment is irksome to
-^ all, it must be a thousand times worse for crowned heads. The
fall from a throne to a dungeon is too violent for the poor victim on
whom Providence has brought that misfortune to escape unhurt. Mary,
however, had borne the disaster with magnanimity, and instead of
being lowered, she had risen superior to her fall. If, at times, she
uttered a complaint in her distress, ought it to be imputed to her as a
fault ? Nay, she ought rather to be the more honoured. Complaint
is dishonourable only when it is out of place. At any other time,
it shows that the victim feels her position, that she suffers and groans :
in a word, that she belongs to humanity. If, notwithstanding her
tears, she is resigned, respects herself, and admits no baseness, then,
there are no terms to qualify, worthily, that heroism of suffering.
I know there are men of hard natures, austere manners, and a
language still more austere, who blush to complain. They dream of
unusual strength of mind, and Stoic indifference to pain ; the/ blame
mankind for fretting at every ill " that flesh is heir to," and are disgusted
with them ; they wish every one to be steeled in good as well as in
bad fortune : but I know also that such extravagant firmness exists, as a
general rule, only in books. I shall not, therefore, hesitate to describe
the last years of Mary Stuart such as they were, and not such as severe
and excessive philosophers would have them.
VOL. II. A
2 MARY AND HER SON, 1581.
Time had at length softened, for Mary, the horrors of captivity.
Deprived of her Hberty, she had formed a kind of private Hfe suited to
her disposition, as far, at least, as it is possible to reconcile seclusion
with the taste for freedom. Her keeper, the Earl of Shrewsbury, a man
of uneven temper, had occasional moments of good nature, and Mary
gladly received the smallest favours, " taking, as it were, from a bad
payer" what she could get." The Earl showed himself as lenient as
he could be to the royal captive, and certainly would have done more
for her, had he not been surrounded by spies. Years brought about a
kind of attachment between the prisoner and the family of the noble
gaoler, and from them Mary learned, with sorrow, that she was going to
have a different keeper.^ She was recovering from sickness, and her
health also made her the more dread the change. Affairs in Scotland
had irritated Elizabeth, and it was to be feared that, in her anger, she
might choose some violent Puritan to replace the Earl of Shrewsbury.
Mary, in her uncertainty, wrote to the Archbishop of Glasgow, " Re-
member that in the subscription of niy letters, this word Vosire, without
abbreviation, will imply to you that I shall be in bad and dangerous
keeping." ^
That anxiety drove away the joy which Mary felt at having received
letters and presents from her son. "Madame," wrote the Prince to her,
" I have received the ring which it has pleased you to send me; I shall
keep it for the honour of you. I send you another, which I, with the
greatest humility, entreat you to accept as cordially as I received yours.
You have clearly proved to me, by the warnings which it has pleased
you to give me in your last letters, how good a mother you are to me.
I earnestly entreat you, should you hear anything further, to let me
know, so that I may see to it, as best I can. I have already begun to
act on your advice, as you may learn from the Earl of Lennox, and I
again entreat you to aid me and give me your good counsel and advice,
which I will follow ; and be assured that in all things which it may
please you to command me, you shall ever find me your very obedient
Son." *
That communication, while suddenly drawing away her thoughts
from her afflictions, led them back to Scotland, the land of so many
» Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissifere, ^ Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glas-
2d September 1577.— Prince Labanofif, IV., gow, 4th March 1581.— Prince Labanofif, V.,
394- 209.
' Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glas- * James VI. to his Mother, 29th January
gow.— Prince Labanofif, V., 210. 1581.— State Papers, Mary, Queen of Scots.
SHE CONFERS ON HIM THE TITLE OF KING, 1581. 3
crimes and such infamous treasons. Thinking of her poor child, a frail
reed reared amid, and tossed by the tempest, she could not help tremb-
ling. What could he do — alone, without help, and without advice — on
that throne red with the blood of his fathers, in that Scotland, where a
crowned head was the fated victim of the sword. Her wish was to be
near him, that she might advise and defend him against his rebellious
subjects. The words which her maternal lips could not utter, she wrote,
that they might be throlvn afar. " Several near my son," said she,
" will dislike that round of ci-uelties done to the Kings of Scotland, our
predecessors ; but I am very anxious that the child should be warned
of them, so that he may guard against them, and not trust too much to
his own power at home, and neglect to strengthen himself abroad, as he
much requires. I know many will oppose that view, wishing always to
keep the Prince in such a state that he may depend on them, rather
than they on him." '
Wishing to give further proofs of her affection, she, at the request
of the Court of France, granted to the young Prince the title of King,
which she had until then refused him, and which he himself considered
as null and void.^ Nay more, heroically forgetting her position, and
showing a self-denial which cannot be too much admired, she advised
her son to live on good terms with Elizabeth, at the very time when
that Queen was openly plotting her death, and seeking to corrupt the
Duke of Lennox and the Earl of Arran in Scotland.^
In the month of April, a French embassy came in great state to
London, to ask the hand of Elizabeth. It was greeted with loud cheers
by the people and by the nobles. Boats, splendidly decorated, went,
as far as the mouth of the Thames, to meet the diplomatists. There
were rejoicings throughout England, and London threw off its cold and
dull nature to give way to the most noisy enthusiasm. Gradually, as
the embassy advanced, there was loud shouting, drowned, at intervals,
by the roar of the Tower guns. That gorgeous reception made the
French envoys look forward to a full and definite success, which was
not to be realised.
The Duke d'Anjou, busy fighting in Flanders, could not reach
London till seven months later. He met with the warmest of welcomes,
> Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glas- let. III., 114, 120, 148; Priiice Labanoff, V.,
gow, 2ist May, 1581. — Prince Labanofif, V., 256, 303.
235. " Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glas-
^ Various State Papers and Letters. — Teu- gow and James VI. — Prince Labanoff, V., 254,
259> 293.
4 THE DUKE D'ANJOU IN LONDON, 1581.
and, thanks to his presence, matters seemed to go on favourably. In
the month of November, the twenty-third anniversary of EHzabeth's
accession, there were great festivities at the Palace. The foreign
ambassadors had been invited, and the nobles, who had come from
all parts of England, thronged around their sovereign. The Duke
d'Anjou appeared in the first rank with a double glory : his laurels and
the Queen's regard. A new distinction was reserved for him ; Eliza-
beth, advancing towards him with a smile upon her lips, put a ring upon
his finger, saying, "This is the pledge of our marriage ;" and on the day
after, she made the Bishop of Lincoln, the Earls of Sussex, Bedford
and Leicester, Walsingham and Hatton, sign an act settling the con-
tract and the rites to be observed in the ceremony.'
Such an event produced a sensation : Castelnau sent particulars to
Henry IIL, and Mendoga to Philip IL, and the Flemings, informed by
Saint-Aldegonde, gave themselves up to wonderful demonstrations of
joy. Churchmen alone were displeased with that union ; in France
the marriage -was looked upon as a mesalliance, in England it was
blamed as prejudicial to the word of God, to the Queen, and the country.
Clamours resounded far and wide. A work written by the hand of a
Puritan attracted notice in the midst of that fanaticism owing to the
forcible suggestions of its apostrophes, and the insolence of its aim.
The title alone, written with a pomposity which shows a mind radically
false, was a threat. In the body of the work, the author inveighed
with surprising boldness against the ministers, the Queen, and the
Duke d'Anjou ; the ministers were worthless and ambitious, men of
low degree, who ranked their fortune above their God ; the Queen a
degenerate woman ; the Duke d'Anjou a faithless, lawless scoundrel ;
the writer sought to put an end to the sacrilegious alliance arranged
between the daughter of God and the son of the devil.
Elizabeth had, till then, borne invectives without saying a word,
hoping that weariness, if not good sense, would make the preachers
silent, but, seeing their boldness increase, she resolved to curb, by
punishment, those upon whom her forbearance had no effect. The
writer was brought before the judges, and condemned to lose his right
hand. It was cut off in the market-place at Westminster. Scarcely
was the sentence carried out when the author, Stubbs, brought back by
the operation to more moderate sentiments, seized his hat with his left
hand, and waved it above his head, crying, " God save the Queen."^
' Daniel, Histoire de France, IX., 140.
^ Camden, III., 346; Harington, Nugae Antiquae, I., 143-158.
THE DUKE D'ANJOU IN LONDON, 1581. 5
Amid all those festivities Elizabeth did not find so much pleasure as
one might be led to suppose. Her ambition battled with her heart.
She could not look at the Duke d'Anjou without loving him, and she
could not love him without thinking of her own liberty. Sleep had
forsaken her; pleasures wearied her, and she sought for loneliness. She
felt a great loathing at heart ; the presence of the young Duke consoled
her for a time, then she fell back into the same sadness and lowness
of spirits. Her favourites, jealous of the Duke's influence, watched the
course of events, and resolved to break off the much-wished-for match.
As Elizabeth, more careworn than usual, was one evening regaining
her room, she was followed by her ladies in tears. They entreated her,
on their knees, to renounce the marriage, urging the inconvenience
of taking so young a husband ; the uncertainty of issue, and conse-
quently the needlessness of the marriage ; her dangers, if she should
have children ; in short, they entreated her not to stain her good name
by taking a Papist husband. Elizabeth could not resist such arguments ;
she appreciated those weighty remarks of her ladies, and felt sorry at
having gone so far as to become engaged. She sent for the Duke, and
in the saddest tone confided her feelings to him amid a flood of tears.
" Two nights like the last," said she, " and Elizabeth must be no more,
and the tomb her wedding bed." She had spent last night in the most
frightful agitation, a prey in turns to inclination and duty ; she had given
him her heart, and would give it him again without regret ; she would
gladly have been his wife, but for the obstinate resistance of her people,
misled by prejudice ; but, in the face of the general displeasure, she
did not hesitate, though with regret, to sacrifice her inclination and her-
self, even, for the good of her subjects.
Amazed at words so unexpected, the Duke knew not what to
answer; he withdrew, and, flinging away the ring which Elizabeth had
given him, exclaimed that the women of Albion were as changeable
and capricious as the waves which washed their shores.'
After that discomfiture, the Duke d'Anjou ought to have left
England for the Continent, as it was clear that the wedding could not
now come off. He asked the Queen's leave to depart : the request was
received with tears. Elizabeth brought forward endless good reasons
to convince the Duke that he was wrong to go ; that the marriage was
not so hopeless, and that time would remove all obstacles. The
1 Daniel, Histoire de France, IX., 140, 141 ; not say for a Queen, but for any woman who
Mdmoires du Due de Nevers, I., 552, sq. has any self-respect. — Camden, III., 343.
There are, in that work, things shameful, I do
6 DEPARTURE OF THE DUKE D'ANJOU, 1581.
chicken-hearted Duke allowed himself to be persuaded, and renewed
his addresses, to the eternal shame of his memory. It was seen to be
unbecoming for a prince of the blood, forgetful of his glory and self-
respect, recklessly to make himself the favourite of a Queen much
olde'r than he, and boldly play a part abandoned by Leicester, and a
role which one named Hatton, a frequenter of masked balls, still
disputed with him/
Festivities, tournaments, shameful days, and abominable evenings
and nights detained the Duke three months longer than he expected.'
At length, pleasures lost their power, intimacy its charm, and the Duke,
who fancied himself a hero, noticed, with a mute despair, that he was
merely ridiculous. To excuse his departure, he urged that affairs in
Belgium required his presence. Elizabeth saw him as far as Canter-
bury, and there the two lovers parted, sick at heart. Left alone, the
Queen of England only grew fonder ; the remembrance of her past
happiness changed her former enjoyments into the keenest pangs. She
quitted Whitehall, where everything reminded her of the Duke, and
went to lead elsewhere a more retired life.
Except his shame, the Duke d'Anjou reaped absolutely nothing
from his stay in London. The Catholics had hoped that his presence
might bring them good luck : they were put to death, as it were, even
before his eyes.^
Mary Stuart expected a word in her favour, but no notice was taken
of her. The Court of France, intentionally heedless, owing to the
projected alliance, left her to her fate. The Duke de Guise was now
the only person in France who still took an interest in the widow of
Francis IL; hand in hand with the Court of Spain, and the Order of
the Jesuits, which might be reckoned another power, he endeavoured
to raise Scotland, and, with the same blow, overthrow England.* The
' Murdin's Papers, 559; Naunton's Queenpl i ent tousles jours en leur constante affection ;
Elizabeth, -JT. et Sy les jeunes de XX, XVIII., et XXV. ans
2 M^moires du Due de Nevers, I., 555, sq. ; se nourrisent aujourd'hui en ce royaulme pour
Murdin's Papers, 558 ; H. Campbell, Case of estre Catholicques, ce qui estonne fort les Puri-
Mary, Q. of Scots, 299, sq. tins et autres qui ont leur passion plus grande
3 Smolett's History of England, book v., que leur religion. Les pauvres Catholicques se
chap, vii.. No. 41.— " Les Catholiques ont fient plus k Dieu que aux rois et princes de la
este persdcutez et les prestres plus cruellement terre ; s'ilz avoient ung chef ilz remuroient
que les martirs au temps passd, mais ils n'esti- bien du mesnage." — Castelnau de Mauvissifere
ment la mort difficile quand ilz la souffrent to the King, 26th July 1582 ; Teulet, III., 131.
pour I'honneur de Dieu et de son Eglise, et * Various State Papers.— Teulet, V., 235,
tant s'en fault que leur sang dpouvente les sq., 244, 247y sq., 255; Prince Labanoff, VII.,
autres Cathohcques, qu'ilz croissant et multi- 156, 183, sq.
PROJECTS OF LENNOX, 1581. 7
Duke of Lennox' was on the spot ready to fight. He received
encouragement through one Paul, an envoy of the Duke de Guise,
who kept in the dark his title and mission by bringing over choice
horses to the young King.'' A conspiracy was being formed anew,
and the project, so often started, of invading England was again freely
spoken of. Lennox wrote about it to Mary Stuart to obtain her consent,
by pointing out the advantages of the expedition ; among others, the
re-establishment of the Catholic religion in England, her release from
prison, and the maintenance of her rights to the throne. ^ For a long
time Mary had trusted to that pleasing dream, but she had awakened to
reality ; and now she lent only an absent attention to the plan which
was submitted to her, and sent a cold and measured reply, in which
neither Catholicism for England, liberty for herself, nor her rights
to the throne were mentioned.*
Lennox himself, owing to unexpected difficulties, found it impossible
to act, and that new project failed like the rest.
The Scottish clergy, moulded by Knox, had from the outset shown
an instinctive hatred of all authority. The founder had proclaimed the
equality of ministers ; the name of Presbyterians announced a democratic
church, where the Episcopacy was not recognised.' The bishoprics
had not, however, been destroyed : Morton had opposed that ; and those
around the young King, after the example of the last Regent, supported
the bishops, and loaded them with honours. Morton defended the
Episcopacy to gain friends ; Lennox, in the hope of re-establishing
Catholicism. The preservation of the bishoprics aided his work ; he
had only to replace the bishops thrust in illegally, by Catholic bishops,
to convert the kingdom, without any great blow.
The appointment of Montgomery, Protestant minister of Stirling,
to the Archbishopric of Glasgow, made the long pent-up anger of the
Presbyterians break forth. They flew to a thousand excesses disgrace-
ful to men, and ended by excommunicating the new bishop, heedless of
the King's prayers and threats. A solemn fast was ordered in view of
the dangers which the Prince ran from the corrupt men about his
' The Earl of Lennox was created a Duke on ^ " The Power and Authoritie of all Pastors
the 15th August 1581. — Moyse's Memoirs, is equal, and alike great among themselves.
56. The name of Bishop is relative to the Flock,
^ Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King, 6th and not to the Eldership ; for he is Bishop of
July 1582. — Teulet, III., 126. his Flock, and not of other Pastors or fellow
' D'Aubigny to Mary Stuart, 7th March Elders : as for pre-eminence, that one beareth
1582. — Teulet, v., 237, 238. over the rest, it is the Invention of man, and
* Mary Stuart to Mendoga, 8th April. — Lettres not the Institution of Holy Writ." — Calderwood,
de Marie Stuart, Teulet, 311, sq. The History of the Church of Scotland, 94.
8 STATE OF THE CLERGY IN SCOTLAND, 1582.
person.' The Bible, so fruitful in tragic examples, roused the Presby-
terian furies ; sermons afforded them the means to utter them ; all
Scotland shuddered when she heard again the bold accents of the
Reformer in the harangues of Durie. The turbulent ministers carried
what they called their zeal, and what others called their insolence, even
to cursing the Court in presence of the King and those around him.^
An order from the King enjoined them to keep silence ; they preferred
to go into England. Durie, forced to depart, assembled the people at
the Cross of Edinburgh, and addressed them, a last time, with extra-
ordinary vehemence. Those who remained in town kept up the
disorder, and, frightened by the threats of the Sectaries, feared great
judgments from heaven.
The vanquished party strove to regain strength by leaning on
England. Enmities brought forth cabals, and cabals a conspiracy, which
Elizabeth covertly encouraged.^ The Earls of Mar and Glencairn,
Lord Ruthven (newly created Earl of Gowrie), Lord Boyd, Oliphant,
and some others undertook to seize the young King, the more easily
to thwart the favourites.*
On the 2 2d of August James left Athole, where he had been hunting,
for Edinburgh. The Earl of Gowrie, informed of his journey, begged
the Prince to make a halt at Ruthven Castle. The young King guile-
lessly accepted the invitation, hoping to find there new pleasures.
Those who had a hand in the conspiracy were warned by the Earl,
and arrived one after the other; the small escort of the King was
dispersed, and he soon found himself surrounded by unusual followers :
he was a prisoner. He did not, however, know, as yet, how unfortunate
he was. He learned the fact of his misfortune only on the next day. On
the previous evening he had spoken of a walk ; no one had dared to con-
tradict him ; but when he was about to start, he met with resistance, and
had to listen to bitter words against his favourites. James bore them
manfully enough, and prepared to go out, when his governor, Glamis,
caught him by the arm. Seeing the uselessness of his complaints and
threats, the prisoner, as yet a novice in misfortune, withdrew weeping :
" Fie! for shame," said his cruel governor; "tears suit children, not men."5
1 Spottiswoode, II., 281-289; Calderwood, * Sir J. Balfour has given in his "Annales of
121, sq. et passim. Scotland," I., 375, the names of the lords who
^ Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King. — acted for or against the King.
Teulet, III., 126. M. Cheruel, Marie Stuart et = Various State Papers. — Teulet, III., 134;
Catherine de Mddicis, 230-232. V.,258. Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glas-
3 Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King, 26th gow, loth September. — Prince Labanofif, V.,
July 1582.— Teulet, III., 127. 309; Robertson's History of Scotland, II., 90.'
CAPTIVITY OF JAMES VI., 1582. 9
The Earl of Arran, seeing that matters went badly for the Duke of
Lennox, made it his duty to accuse him, to maintain his own credit.'
That shameful manoeuvre was so much the more sure of success as
Elizabeth, out of hatred to d'Aubigny, supported the opposite side.''
Lennox soon noticed the ill-will which the conspirators bore him. In
the first place, a decree, wrung from the King, and proclaimed at the
Cross of Edinburgh, forbade anyone, under very severe penalties, " to
publish or say that the King was a prisoner or detained against his
will, but it was to be stated, on the contrary, that he felt at great rest
and in perfect freedom with his good subjects." ^ That decree made the
conspirators masters of the situation. Another document, also obtained
by violence, enjoined the Duke to " leave the kingdom " before the 20th
of September, and hand over the castles of Dunbarton and Blackness to
those who should come to ask them in the King's name.*
The kingdom was in a turmoil. The words of the King were so
precise, that they clearly expressed the will of the conspirators rather
than that of the Sovereign. ^ Lennox resisted boldly, and, for the
disinterestedness of his conduct, was universally admired. The nobles,
still faithful to their King, stood steadfastly by him ; those were the
Earls of Huntly, Crawford, Argyll, Sutherland and Caithness, and
many other lords who preferred danger to dishonour and treason.^
The conspirators opposed audacity to right, and violence to justice.
Lennox flattered himself that he might soon take the field, or, at least,
wait in Edinburgh for an opportunity to act. The Provost dissuaded
him from it, telling him that, considering the state of matters, to stay in
Edinburgh might be fatal to him. Lennox yielded, though with regret,
to the wise advise of the Provost. He bade farewell to the people,
assuring them that he had come to Scotland only to save the Prince,
and bring back to the country peace, a stranger to it for many a day.
Those words drew tears. On seeing the Duke depart, the inhabitants
of Edinburgh feared they were again about to fall under the violent
' Castelnau de Mauvissifere to Catherine de para comigo ; favorece tanto como siempre,
Mddicis, 13th September. — Teulet, III., 138. sotomano, el dicho de Lenos y todos los de la
' Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King, 13th buena parte; aborrece extremamente Rutwen
September. — Teulet, III., 139, y otros que le detienen ; y esta resuelto de
^ The same letter, 140. escaparseles por todos los medios que pudiere."
* Walsingham to Castelnau de Mauvissifere, Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow,
14th September. — Teulet, III., 142, 143; Mar- i8th November. — Archives de I'Empire;
ioreybanks, 33. Fonds de Simancas; Letter annexed to a
* "El duke de Lenos me ha scripto y asse- despatch of Tassis to Philip 11., Liasse B. No.
gurado que mi higo, no obstante su detencion, 178.
persiste constantissimamente en lo que deve " Mariorey banks, Annals, 35.
VOL. II. ' B
lo DEPARTURE OF LENNOX, 1582.
rule of the Regent Morton's friends ; hope died, or gave way to anxiety
and fear. The nobility gave him an escort of honour on leaving the
town; and as he was about to leave them, Lennox begged them to
stand by the King ; and, having got them to promise that, he spurred
his horse, and went by night from Edinburgh to Dunbarton."
The rebels, on their side, were not idle ; at first they used all their
influence to bring discredit upon Lennox. After doing so, they took
the King to Holyrood. In all their efforts they strove to gain the
sympathy of the people and get followers in all classes of society. The
support of England was no longer doubtful. Sir George Carey and
Sir Robert Bowes had been sent to Scotland to add fuel to the flame ;
but Lennox retained his influence over the masses. The gentleness of
his disposition, his discretion and politeness, had made for him firm
friends ; his liberality and affability had gained for him the love of
the people. The conspirators, resolved to brand his reputation
thoroughly, had already attacked it by declamations, partial and inco-
herent, and consequently worthless. A very lengthy manifesto, skilfully
drawn out, was issued and distributed throughout Scotland. It de-
plored in high-flowing words the frightful state to which Lennox had
brought the country ; the Church violated, the nobility despised, and the
people trodden under foot by an unworthy favourite. They charged
him with incapacity, insolence and treason, and called him the scourge of
the Church and State, while they heaped upon him the most unjust
reproaches. They did not stop at that. Lest the people should, not-
withstanding the manifesto, go on loving the Duke, the seditious
appealed to the assembly of the clergy, and obtained an act, setting
forth that they had done what was pleasing to God, advantageous to
the Sovereign, and useful to the country. Nay more, those honest
slanderers summoned, in the name of heaven, all Protestants to lend
them assistance, and ordered the ministers to make the manifesto the
subject of their sermons, and to threaten, with the censure of the
Church, those who, from an inconceivable stubbornness, should oppose
the furthering of the good cause. ^
Soon after, they made the King sign " Letters of Remission,"
masterpieces of stupidity, in which the feeble Prince, obliged to pro-
claim the good offices of his gaolers, called them his " good subjects
and very affectionate servants." '
1 Castelnau de Mauvissifere to Catherine ' Sanderson's History, 98; Robertson, II., 93.
de Mddicis, 18th September.— Teulet, III., ' Letters of Remission for the Earls of
147- Cowrie, etc. — Teulet, III., 157.
HIS DECLARATION, 1582. n
The Duke of Lennox had kept in the background as much as he
could. Before leaving Edinburgh he had not said a word of the sedi-
tious ; but as the boldness of his enemies grew in proportion to his
silence, he thought he could no longer hold his tongue. He repelled
the manifesto, turned their own words against the accusers, and otfered
to justify himself before the King and the assembled States. His
enemies, to crush him the more easily, refused to hold conference with
him.' The Duke appealed to public opinion, and took his revenge by
publishing his " Declaration." " I have made public this declaration of
my innocence," said he, "so that all may know that I have been blamed
wrongly and without cause." ^ His innocence was acknowledged by
the greater number ; but the reign of violence was not over. Lennox
might also have overcome his adversaries by force of arms ; ' but he
drew back from those extreme measures, unwilling that blood should be
spilt in his quarrel. He chose to dwell in France until the public mind
should calm down ; there he died, and his memory, honoured by the
King, was long dear to Scotland.*
No one felt what had just happened more than the Queen of Scots.
A prisoner, harshly treated, hoping all from Elizabeth's good will, fear-
ing all from her anger, with a past full of sadness, a gloomy present,
and a future full of doubts, — she knew how odious was a prison, and
how much a prisoner was to be pitied. Her griefs were made more
poignant by the circumstances : the Prince was young, without experi-
ence, unable to bear his misfortune nobly, — and moreover, he was in
the hands of his family's deadly enemies, of those who had ruined his
mother, and had brought upon her all her ills. How could he live
among those rebels, in whose eyes nothing is sacred ; would they
respect his quality, or by a crime of which hearts, shut to all save ambi-
tion, can alone be guilty, might they not go the length of laying snares
for his innocence, that they might live more easily under a prince given
up to effeminacy. And who knew but the thirst for power might urge
those greedy men to take his life and seize her throne ?^ Those dis-
tressing reflections, which the doings of the victorious party authorised
^ The Duke of Lennox to the Earl of Argyll, * Robertson's History of Scotland, II., 94,
20th September. — In the Letters of the Argyll 95.
Family, 22 sq. = Those reflections are not imaginary. The
* Declaration du Due de Lenox centre les wife of the Earl of Arran wished, by aiming at
faulces calomnies, etc. — Teulet, III., 152-154. adultery with James, to establish the influence
2 Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow, of her husband, etc. Mary Stuart was informed
1 8th Nov. — Archives de I'Empire, Fonds de that they wished to poison her son. — Prince
Simancas, Liasse B., No. 178. Labanoff, V., 304.
12 GRIEF OF THE QUEEN OF SCOTS, 1582.
unfortunately too much, awakened in Mary's heart many a bitter pang,
and that Queen, who during long years had stood firm against threats
with unbending brow, broke down on receiving the news of her son's
captivity. " The Queen of Scots/' said Castelnau, " has just now
written to me in cypher, with sorrow and sadness such, she says, as she
never had." ' Sweet creature, besides her own sorrows, she had to
bear up against those anxieties so heart-rending to a mother, which
made her more heavenly and more worthy of admiration. Her own
misfortune was not enough ; she was destined to suffer for two, and her
son's fate affected her more than her own already long captivity.
Elizabeth all that time had the fiendish cruelty to add to Mary's sad
loneliness by taking from her the little liberty left her, and debarring
her from all correspondence with Scotland. "^
That wanton outrage suddenly roused courage in the captive's
heart, nigh broken by the son's sad lot. Pride buoyed her up, and
she wrote to Elizabeth a letter, thought by all a masterpiece. It was
to this effect : " Madam, the conspiracies last hatched in Scotland
against my poor child make it my duty to speak. I know by experience
how great misfortune may be ; and so I tremble for my son, and dread
the consequences. In presence of such a disaster, I shall then not
hesitate to employ the little strength which is left me to complain and
protest. May this letter convince you of my innocence, and serve to
justify me in the eyes of posterity by showing the unseemly treatment
which I have had to bear.
" I have often protested — I have long proclaimed the sincerity of
my conduct ; violence has helped my enemies ; from this time forth I
appeal not to men, but to the living God. It is for Him to judge
betwixt us ; and forget not. Madam, that the policy of the world does
not deceive Him, when it might deceive even the universe. I affirm
then, before that great God, that spies have gone in your name into
Scotland to corrupt my subjects, arouse them against me, and drive
them to all excesses, even to assassinate me. My witnesses are not
your enemies ; they are your agents.
" You remember. Madam, that at Lochleven, Throckmorton con-
veyed to me your advice to sign my abdication, hinting that it was null
and void at law, having been wrung from me ; I did so : Europe looked
upon it as null and void, England alone as valid. Much more, England
1 Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King, 8th October.— PrinceLabanoff, V., 313. Castel-
13th September.— Teulet, III., 142. nau de Mauvissifere to Catherine de Mddicis,
* Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissi^re, 28th September.— Teulet, III., 151.
MARY'S LETTER TO ELIZABETH, 1582. 13
has openly aided the rebels. I pray you, madame, would you put up
with such licence and such power on the part of your subjects ? After
that truly noble deed, they held my son to be a lawful sovereign as
long as he was a child ; now that he is grown, and that I have given
him the title of King, they have robbed him of liberty, power, and
royalty ; they may perhaps go even further, unless God see to it.
" Escaped from Lochleven, and on the eve of battle, I sent you
the ring you one day gave me as a pledge of alliance, when you pro-
mised to aid me in case of need : the battle is fought, the battle is lost ;
and when, trusting to your word, I come to seek shelter in your land,
I am arrested, surrounded by guards, shut up in strong places, and, in
short, to the contempt of all rights, thrown into this prison where I still
languish dying, after having already died a thousand deaths.
" I know you will fall back upon what took place between the Duke
of Norfolk and me. I stand by what I have said : that contract could
not have been hurtful to you, concluded, as it was, by the first Lords of
the Council, and on the express condition of your approval.
" The York Conferences seemed for a moment to improve matters :
-my iiuiocence was acknowledged ;^ the chief Scottish lords, rueing their
acts, again drew near to their Queen, alas ! for their ruin : the one died
by poison, the other on the scaffold, after I had made them twice lay
down their arms at your request.
" As regards my captivity, I had imagined that my patience would
get the better of my enemies. I have shut myself up, have done
away with the surroundings due to my rank, and have even abstained
from writing to my son, who was taught to despise his mother : '' all in
vain.
" I have tried to treat with the English commissioners sent to me,
and have made them the most advantageous proposals, hoping thereby
to establish peace between the two kingdoms. What was the result ?
My good intentions were scorned, my sincerity slighted and spurned,
and my affairs brought to ruin : in a word, I was worse treated after
than before : my enemies, mistaking my patience for faint-heartedness,
thought they had a right to treat me, not as a prisoner, but as a slave
over whom they had power of life and death.
" I cannot bear. Madam, those indignities any longer : if I am to
' " La vdritd estant apparue des impostures passage addressed to Elizabeth will escape
qu'on semoit de moy, par la Conference k la no one.
quelle je me soubmis volontairement en ce ^ Prince Labanoff, III., 127; M. Wiesener,
pays.'' Original. The importance of that 510.
J 4 MARYS LETTER TO ELIZABETH, 1582.
die, I must know the seekers of my death; if I am to Hve, those slanders
and cruelties must end. Inquire, then, and hear my defence : if I am
guilty, I shall undergo my penalty ; if I am innocent and you detain me,
you are guilty in the eyes of God and man.
" The vilest criminals who groan and weep themselves away in
your prisons .are allowed to speak in their defence. Why should it be
otherwise with me, a Sovereign Princess, your nearest kinswoman and
lawful heiress. I know it is exactly that title which excites their hatred;
but, alas ! it is now more cruel than ever in them to persecute me, for
the only kingdom that I look forward to is the kingdom of my God.
All my happiness is wrapped up in my son, whom traitors, hounded on
and backed by you, worry to the bitter end, and I cannot move to help
him. You thus work out sad masterpieces. Madam ; and I beg of you
no longer to use such means or persons. Moreover, I declare to you
that I shall disown and deem as null and void all that my son may do,
in writing or speech, while he is kept a prisoner.
" It may so happen that the freedom of my language may offend
you, Madam : I have said nought but the truth ; and I entreat you, by
the dolorous Passion of our Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ, to let
me withdraw from this kingdom, that I may pass my last days in
prayer.
" Lay down what conditions you will, take such sureties as you may
think fit, only give me freedom. What avails it to confine, till death bring
release, between four walls, my poor languishing body ? Torments are
useless : you know that those of my rank and disposition do not allow
themselves to be cast down by any rigour. The prison in which you
unjustly keep me has already destroyed my body ; it is likely that
the end of my sorrows is drawing near, and that my enemies will not
have the pleasure of tormenting me much longer ; but I have yet a soul,
and that soul you cannot imprison. Leave it, then, free to look to its
salvation, which is its only care. What satisfaction, what honour, or
what advantage can you derive from seeing me crushed at your feet
under the heel of those who hate me ? If, on the contrary, you free me,
though it be perhaps too late, my friends shall be your friends, and my
poor child shall be your child. Grant me that grace ; it can come from
you alone, and it is from you alone that I seek it.
" Meanwhile, grant me at least that I may have a priest to prepare
me for death, which draws nearer every day ; that is a favour you would
not refuse the meanest creature in your kingdom. Let me also have
two chamber-women to nurse me when ill ; I assure you, before God
FRENCH ENVOYS IN SCOTLAND, 1 582- r 583. 15
that I need them ; grant them to me in honour of God, and suffer not
that my enemies should persecute me to the very end. I am reproached
with having given to my son the title of King of Scotland ; but that
cannot hinder you, as in doing so, I have only obeyed the King of
France and the Queen-mother, whose wishes I made known to you.
Nothing has been done to your prejudice ; I assert it on my honour.
" Take then in hand. Madam, the interests of those who touch
you so closely both by heart and by blood : search your inmost
thoughts, and follow the dictates of your good nature ; let me not take
with me to the grave the remembrance of the wrongs which you have
done or allowed to be done to me, and lay them before God."'
That magnificent letter puzzled Elizabeth more than it moved
her ; and that Princess, with a heart full of cruelty, went on, none the
less, with her persecution. The future and God made but a slight
impression on a woman accustomed to enjoy the present, heedless of
an uncertain future and a God, whose laws she trampled under foot —
whose existence she perhaps even disowned.
France was showing herself more friendly ; her ambassadors had
ever willingly lent a hand to Mary's secret correspondence, and, follow-
ing the King's example, had helped her with their influence.^ It was
no Frenchman's fault that his former Queen was not free. Tired of
interceding for the mother, France, were it only to save the remains of
French influence in Scotland, had transferred to the son a part of the
interest which had been so uselessly, alas ! shown to the luckless captive.
The sudden imprisonment of the young Prince had roused anew old
alarms and affections. Henry III. made up his mind to send to
Scotland, la Mothe Fenelon and the Sieur de Meyneville, to aid the
King with their counsels, and assist him in regaining his freedom. ^
The French diplomatists could not reach Scotland without being
dogged by Davison, an English spy, charged to watch them, and to
take down, piece by piece, the framework of their irksome negotiations.
Notwithstanding the wonderful prudence of la Mothe Fenelon, and
his conciliatory words to the nobility, none of the good hoped for,
resulted. The lords, who had made themselves masters of the King,
had acted with thorough deceit ; outwardly they paid him great
honours, and made him sit in their assemblies with the state of an
1 Abridged from the original published by ^ Charles IX. to Castelnau de Mauvissi&re.
Prince Labanoff, V., 318-338. — Teulet, III., 165, 169. Instruction given to
° Various State Papers, Teulet, III., 160- the Sieur de Meyneville, ibidem, 171 -176
167. Bannat. Miscall^ I., 75-78.
i6 BEALE AND MARY STUART, 1583.
autocrat; but the young Prince, a powerless idol brought up by
greedy hands, enjoyed only the semblance of royalty ; his will and his
anger were alike unheeded. That strange state of things, together
with the declarations extorted from the young King, led most of the
Scots to believe that he was free ; ' and that was the first and greatest
difficulty the French ambassadors had to meet. The other arose from
the resistance of the clergy. The ministers declaimed publicly against
the Court of France, the house of Guise, and the envoys and their
mission, with a rage so astonishing, that the Protestant historians them-
selves are scandalised at it.'' F6nelon, to save his honour and escape
from the unworthy Davison, who would never let him have freedom
of action, withdrew, handing over to de Meyneville, who was less skilful
but less odious than he, the task of upholding the interests of France in
Scotland. That toilsome negotiation benefitted only Scottish trade,
and its success was more ridiculous than would have been a failure.^
The great secret of Elizabeth's policy was to fathom the aims and
views of other nations, and work against them, while she always kept
her own plans inscrutable. She entered upon conferences, put forward
certain plans, and while the attention of the people was called away by
those pretexts, went on darkly, and surely gained her ends.
She had long wished to get Mary out of the way ; but Scotland
gave her too much uneasiness to attempt an act of so great importance.
She preferred to enter into relations with the prisoner, proposing to
associate her with her son and restore her to liberty." To bring that
about, she chose the man best suited to make it fail. Councillor Beale,
a man of a wild disposition and gloomy nature, undertook that trans-
action which, as had been foreseen, failed ; ^ but while the news of the
intended arrangement between the two Queens was talked about,
Walsingham was intriguing hard with Colvill and the wretch, James
Stuart, who, in return for the title of Earl given him by his King, only
threw that same King, bound hand and foot, under the tutelage of
England, and made worse the captivity of his mother.*
^ Melville's Memoirs, 282. who, they said, procured him to be sent
" Robertson's History, II., 97. "The minis- hither."— Spottiswoode, II,, 297.
ters declaimed bitterly against them in their " Various State Papers, Teulet, III., 196,
sermons; especially against La Motte, who, 200, 213; Moyse's Memoirs, 75-77.
being a Knight of the order of St Esprit, did < Castelnau de Mauvissiere to the King, i6th
wear the badge of a white cross upon his May 1583. — Teulet, III., 203.
shoulder. This they called 'the badge of = Camden, III., 359, 360.
Antichrist,' and him 'the ambassador of the » Various State Papers, Teulet, III., 207-221;
bloody murderer,' meaning the Duke of Guise, Princfe Labanoff, V., 350 ; M. Ch^ruel, 241 ';
JAMES VI. RECOVERS HIS FREEDOM, 1583.
17
The young King, meanwhile, was getting tired of his position, for,
though he seemed satisfied with the conduct of the nobles, he could not,
at heart, forgive them for keeping him in prison. He communicated
his feelings to several men of trust, gained even Gowrie over, and set
about regaining his liberty. The assembly of the States, convoked at
St Andrews, marvellously served him to gain his ends. On the 27th
of June (new style 7th Jufy) under the pretence of presiding over the
States, nothing betraying his thoughts, he repaired to the Castle where
his partisans, anticipating the hour, had assembled ; there, supported by
the Earls of Huntly, Argyll, Crawford and Rothes, he arrested his
enemies one by one, as they came, and, with a rare good fortune,
recovered the freedom lost by a surprise. On the next day he pub-
lished a general amnesty, and paid a visit to the Earl of Gowrie in the
famous Ruthven Castle, where he had been arrested. That truly royal
conduct gained him the hearts of his people. All in Scotland admired
the cleverness of the young King, and were moved by his magnanimity.'
Melville's Memoirs, '283. The truth, which I having her assassinated. — Cf. Teulet, V., 276,
carefully give entire to the reader, be his reh-
gion what it may, compels me to say, that if
Elizabeth behaved badly to Mary Stuart, the
Catholics of France behaved still worse to
the Queen of England, and that, at the time
now reached, the Duke de Guise thought of
281, 329.
^ Letter from a Scottish lord to M. de
Meyneville. — Teulet, V. 298, sq.; Spottiswoode,
11., 300, sq. Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the
King. — Teulet, III., 227; Prince Labanoff, V.,
347, 348.
VOL. II.
CHAPTER XXI.
1583-1585.
SLANDER AGAINST MARY — LETTERS FROM MARY TO MADEMOISELLE DE PIERREPONT AND
TO MADEMOISELLE DE MAUVISSIERE — NEGOTIATIONS WITH SCOTLAND — CONSPIRACIES
AGAINST ENGLAND — SOMERVILLE — THROCKMORTON — DEPARTURE OF MENDOCA— SYS-
TEM OF CORRUPTION MADE USE OF BY ELIZABETH — STATE OF AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND —
CONSPIRACY — ITS FAILURE — CONDEMNATION OF COWRIE — ANGUS, MAR AND GLAMMIS
GUILTY OF TREASON — DAVISON IN SCOTLAND — MARY STUART'S ADVICE TO HER SON —
SHREWSBURY REMOVED FROM MARY — ECCLESIASTICAL AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND — NAU
AND GRAY IN LONDON — CREIGHTON AND ABDY — ASSOCIATION TO PROTECT THE LIFE
OF ELIZABETH — ^PARRY — MARY STUART TAKES PART IN THE ASSOCIATION — LETTERS
OF THE CATHOLICS TO ELIZABETH — PERSECUTION — MARY AT TUTBURY — HER SUFFER-
INGS — MARY AND HER SON — HORRORS OF HER NEW PRISON — HER KEEPER SIR AMYAS
PAULET — RESTRICTIONS PUT UPON HER FREEDOM — REPORT OF HER ESCAPE — TER^
RIBLE WORDS OF HER KEEPER.
1\ yr ARY had suffered much since the beginning of her imprisonment,
^^-^ but, though a captive, her reputation at least was spotless, and the
infamous pamphlets printed in Scotland to brand her name had respected
her misfortune. That new trial was soon to be felt by the prisoner
as it had been by the Queen. Elizabeth, after having unsuccessfully
tried to dishonour her in the eyes of the world, encouraged slander.'
In a moment of spite the Countess of Shrewsbury forgot herself so far
as to spread odious reports about a great familiarity betwixt Mary and
the Earl, and those rumours, thanks to the high favour shown them,
gained such belief, that Mary at once lost her reputation." When
she heard of them, she wrote to the ambassador of France, to Walsing-
ham, and to Elizabeth herself, to obtain satisfaction, asserting that they
were "wicked reports," ^ "a false and miserable imposture,"'* appealing
to good sense and justice, and even hurling threats at the head of the
wicked Countess. " I expressly charge my son to seek satisfaction,
1 Mary Stuart to Elizabeth.— Prince Laba- courrue par toute I'ltalie." Antoine Standen k
noff, VI., 54. Marie Stuart, 12 Octobre, 1584.— Prince Laba-
' Those false reports were spread inten- noff, VII., 162.
tionally among the Catholic powers, and went ' Prince Labanofif, V., 389, 394 ; VI. 32
so far as to say that Mary Stuart was about to * Idem, V., 401,447. ' ' ' •> ■
become a mother : " Ceste belle nouvelle avoit
SLANDER AGAINST MARY, 1583. 19
not for my private vindication but for his own honour, and it shall be
one of my last commands on my death-bed, if I do not before then get
redress ; there being, as far as I am concerned, neither life nor grandeur
which I would not willingly stake for the preservation of my honour.'
Again I say that whosoever has said such things has basely and
villanously lied, and lies every time, and as many times as he shall say
them ; and I take upon myself to have it proved to him, sword in
hand, by a person of his own rank, if his wicked conscience allows him
to appear."' Although the lords of Council were persuaded of Mary's
innocence,^ and each was guarded in his language against the
Countess, on account of her reputation of " cunning and ill dis-
posed," ■• the false rumours were, however, spread to injure Mary,
and Elizabeth threw aside all propriety by receiving the Countess in
her palace.^
That insulting behaviour irritated the victim, and made her think of
arraigning the Countess and her children before the Court, and inflicting
on them an exemplary punishment : " there is in the kingdom," said
she, " no subject, however vile, poor, or abject', who could be denied
reparation of insult, and satisfaction for that of which he may be falsely
accused ; all the more reason then that it should be so, in a calumny
so atrocious and important, upon one of my rank, so closely connected
with the said Queen, and detained as I am, bound hand and foot and
almost gagged, without liberty to defend myself" * Seeing that prayers
and threats were of no avail, Mary had recourse to the extremest
measure: that of defaming the Countess, and of exposing her under her
true colours, in order to guard her own honoun She wrote a most telling
letter to Elizabeth, and another to the Countess, informed the Queen
of England of what the Countess of Shrewsbury had been saying about
Leicester, Hatton, Simier and the Duke d'Anjou, and took advantage
of that circumstance to write openly of all secrets and all intrigues, to
complain of the bad treatment she had been made to suffer, and to
show Elizabeth that, what she fancied was buried in the darkness of her
orgies or of her councils, was known. Historians hostile to Mary
Stuart have made the writing of that letter a fault. They would have
had her allow herself to be dishonoured without opening her mouth.
' Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissifere, * Castelnau de Mauvissifere to Catherine de
2d January, I s84.-^PrinGeLabanofif, v., 396,397. Mddieis, 9th April. — Teulet, III., 252.
" Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissifere, ' Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, i8th October.
28th January, i584.-^Prince Labanoff, V., 412. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 34.
^ The same to the same, 26th February " Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissi^re,
1584. — Prince Labanoff, V., 426. i8th October. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 38.
20 SLANDER AGAINST MARY, 1583.
What they in their studied language call a " diabolical imagination,"
I call a duty ; to let one's self be publicly attacked under such circum-
stances, without taking the means of protecting one's honour, is to
become debased and degraded, and to forget God, in whose image we
are all made.^
Besides, the letter was very likely not sent,^ for Mary kept it back
among her papers and wrote another in which is noticed the feeling
which dictated the first. "Would to God," said she, "that I could
speak to you for two hours ; it might be as beneficial to you as to me."'*
The Earl of Shrewsbury soon obtained the recantation which Mary
had to no purpose been demanding for more than a year ; the Countess
and her children were called before the Council. In answer to the
questions which were put to them, they maintained that they had
never said anything of the kind ; they affirmed on their honour that
they had never "seen or known anything in Mary which was not worthy
of a iPrincess, and that they held all those who had spoken ill of her,
wicked and evil doers." ^
That recantation gave the prisoner great joy, and made her captivity
more bearable. Like all sensitive creatures, Mary loved solitude ; she
never found herself thrust into worldly matters or negotiations without
feeling a certain grief, and those who have seen in her only a " noble
adventuress " naturally bent upon undertaking all, know little of that rich
1 Dargaud, Histoire de Marie Stuart, 342. wife. Mary had, therefore, no further need of
^ One of Mary Stuart's enemies, whose coming to that extremity ; grave historians,
small merit has been too often boasted, thus however, maintain that the letter was really
expresses himself in reference to the letter : sent, but that it was stopped by Burghley ; they
II n'y a pas de preuve plus singulifere. . . . de say so, from the fact that the autograph re-
cette fureur de se compromettre que Marie mained among that Statesman's papers . That
Stuart portait au dernier degrd. . . . que sa opinion appears to me to be inadmissible, for
lettre dcrite k Elisabeth /^a de temps apres son if the letter had' been sent, Mary could never
arriv^e en Ecosse." ! ! ! PhilarSte Chasles, have written after a few days' interval quite a
Jeunesse, passions et malheurs de Marie Stuart, different letter to Elizabeth, a thing which she
10. Blunders are to be found in every page of did, nor above all let her understand that she
that diatribe ; a thorough contempt of the had important secrets to reveal to her. My
reader is required to dare to print such a idea is that the famous letter (without date)
statement. Cf. The Letter of Mary, Prince was reserved for another time, and that it was
Labanoff, VI ., 50 sq., and the Amorous life of seized in Mary's papers at the time of the
Queen Elizabeth by Hugh Campbell in the Babington Conspiracy : that explains how it
case of Mary, 258-305. fell into the hands of Burghley.
^ Mary had several reasons for not sending * Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, 8th December,
the letter ; in the first place the immediate 1584. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 67, 68.
departure of Nau for London forced her not to ^ Castelnau de Mauvissi^re to the King,
estrange Elizabeth, then the Earl of Shrews- 25th November, 1584. Teulet, III., 326.
bury, irritated at seeing himself suspected. Declaration made by the Countess of Shrews-
exacted a solemn recantation on the part of his bury and her sons. — Prince Labanoff, VI I., 168.
MARY WRITES TO HER PROTEGEES, 1583. 21
and gentle nature. In place of the precarious honours of a throne, the
excellent queen would undoubtedly have liked better the closer society of
her friends and relatives. Though in prison, and suffering, she wrote
cheerful letters to her young protdgdes. " Darling," she wrote to
Mademoiselle de Pierrepont, " I have received your letters and kind
tokens for which I thank you," then she advised her, in the interest of
her health, not to come to pay her a visit before the fine weather had set
in, promised her a black dress, and wished her " as many blessings as
there are days in the year."' Another time she wrote to her god-
daughter Marie de Castelnau, daughter of the ambassador. "My
god-daughter, my love, I was very glad to see by your letters the proof
of the perfections with which, as I have heard, God has gifted you,
young as you are. Learn, darling, to know and serve Him who has
given you so many graces, and He will add to them ; for which I
entreat Him, and may He give you His holy blessing. I send you a
small token from a captive to remind you of your god-mother. . .
Remember me to the mother of my dear god-child, and continue to
love me as your mother for I wish to be so to you." ^
While Mary, entirely given up to friendship, forgot her prison in
turning her thoughts to those dear to her, France and England were
very busy about Scotland. That country, a prey to home strife, had
no rest. It was at first intended to send thither Castelnau and Wal-
singham to treat of peace in the name of France and lingland,^ but
Elizabeth resolved to act alone, and, wishing to re-establish in Scotland
the English influence which had fallen with Morton, judged it meet to
find fault with France on account of the English exiles. " The Queen
of England complains," wrote Henry III. to Castelnau, "that some of
her subjects are harboured in this my kingdom. Let her remember
that her country has always been a haven for my rebellious subjects,
and the spot where their chief undertakings have been thought of and
ripened, and where they have found the most favour and support. But
it is better to hush up and forget those old quarrels and complaints
than to keep them in memory." "*
On account of that misunderstanding, Walsingham repaired alone to
Scotland, where the Earl of Arran's return to power had changed
1 Mary Stuart to Mademoiselle de Pierre- ^ Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King, 5th
pont, 13th Sept., 1583. — Prince Labanoff, V., December 1583. — Teulet, III., 242. Mdmoire
370. et Instruction au Sieur de Mauvissifere. —
" Mary Stuart to Mademoiselle Castelnau Idem, III., 245 sq.
de Mauvissifere, 26th January, 1584. — Prince ' Henry III. to Castelnau de Mauvissifere,
Labanoff, V., 406. isth February 1584.— Teulet, III., 250.
22 NEGOTIATIONS WITH SCOTLAND, 1583.
matters. With him came revenge, as he banished, for the peace of the
country, those whom the King had of necessity forgiven. Ehzabeth
was vexed at that, and, displeased and in angry mood, wrote a sharp
letter to the young King, hoping to frighten him; she taunted him with
breaking his word to the lords, and spoke of several other grievances.
" You deale not," said she, " with one whose experience can take dross
for good paiments, nor one that esily will be beguiled : No, no, I mind
to sett to schoole your craftiest counsiler."' James answered that he
thanked her for her advice, notwithstanding the tone in which it was
given, and that he thought, with her, that a King's word ought never
to be broken, but that he did not look in like manner on a forced
promise.''
Walsingham's arrival caused a great stir ; people wondered what
brought to Scotland- the old diplomatist who could not, even in Eng-
land, find time to recruit his health. The true aim of his journey
was, first; to learn for himself what report said of the young King;
then, to sow division and renew the intrigues which Morton's death had
broken off in a manner so galling to England. Elizabeth's hopes were
doomed to fall to the ground ; the famous diplomatist could not change
the feelings of the Court, and he lost in Scotland precious time, which
he might have turned to better account elsewhere in the service of his
country, whose situation became day by day more critical.^
The greatest quickness and watchfulness were needed from Eliza-
beth's ministers : England was threatened with an invasion. The
Duke de Guise was doing all he could to ruin Elizabeth. He had sent
into the island, Charles Paget, under the name of Mopo, to find out
what ports were best for landing an army, how many men were needed
for the invasion, how many soldiers the English could bring into the
field, what provisions and maUriel of war and transport, and how much
money ought to be brought to England so as- not to grind down the
people, what steps ought to be taken to ensure the success of the expe-
dition, and what kind of ships would be most convenient. In short, Paget
was to assure the English Catholics of his (Duke de Guise's) devoted-
ness, and proclaim to them, on his word and honour, that his sole object
was to re-establish Catholicism and put Mary Stuart on the throne of
1 Queen Elizabeth to King James VI., 7th land. Melville's Memoirs, 309 sq. Moyse's
August 1583.— Ellis, I., ii., 294. Memoirs, 83, 84. Mary Stuart to Castelnau
^ Melville's Memoirs, 297 sq. de Mauvissiere, 12th Nov. Prince Labanoff,
' Walsingham to Queen Elizabeth, 1 2th and V., 379. Rapin Thoyras, Histoire d'Angleterre,
15th Sept. 1583. State Paper Office, Scot- VII., 390.
CONSPIRACIES AGAINST ENGLAND, 1583-1584. 23
England.' At the same time, he charged Richard Melino to gain over
the Pope to the design, by often describing in his presence, in high-
flown language, that magnificent triumph of the faith/ The Pope gave
only feeble encouragement to the projects of the Duke de Guise, and
offered almost nothing; the zeal or ambition of Philip II. cooled ; and
the Scots, weary of delays, cooled after the first enthusiasm. ^ The Duke
had once again to put off his undertaking.
Everywhere there was disquiet, and England passed into a state of
uneasiness which was for a long time to make Elizabeth restless. The
oppressed Catholics thought they now beheld the dawn of a more
peaceful day ; they even then hailed it from afar, eager to hasten, at
the risk of their lives, that peaceful life which the future seemed to
promise them. The English government, seeing the general dread,
redoubled its watchfulness.
The first victim to suffer for treason was one Arden, a gentleman of
old family, who refused Leicester an estate which the favourite wished
to have. Leicester, annoyed by the refusal, made up his mind to ruin
him, and, to do so, used a pretext as absurd as it was revolting. Arden
had given his daughter in marriage to a Catholic gentleman named
Somerville. That unfortunate man having gone mad, gave way to
deeds and utterances the importance of which he could not estimate.
In a fit of madness, he attacked, sword in hand, some passers-by on the
highway, crying, "Death to the Protestants and the Queen!" Arrested
at once, the poor madman was taken to the Tower. His father-in-law,
mother-in-law, wife, sister and a missionary followed him there in a
few days, when the inquiry began, with the help of the dreaded tortures
then in use for such cases. Arden defended himself with a noble
simplicity. Leicester's hatred spoke louder than the gentleman's inno-
cence ; he was condemned to the punishment of traitors. What clearly
showed the villany of the judgment was to see all the others set free,
save Somerville, who was found strangled in his cell, while the lands
of the innocent were made over to one of Leicester's creatures.*
The next case of moment was much more important, and struck
the really guilty ones. From hints more or less vague, Elizabeth's minis-
ters had Francis Throckmorton arrested, and accused of conspiracy
^ Instruccion para Inglaterra de 28 de ^ Various Spanish Papers. — Teulet, V., 317,
Agosto 1583. — Archives de I'Empire, Fondsde 337.
Simancas, Liasse B., No. 116; Teulet, V., 312. * Relacion de lo Succecido en Inglaterra. — ■
" Instruccion para Roma. — Teulet, V., 308 Teulet, V., 323. Various Letters. — Prince
sq. Labanoff, V., 400, 416 ; Camden, III., 370,
24 DEPARTURE OF MENDOQA, 1584.
against the Queen and her government. The arrest spread terror
among the EngHsh Catholics. Several guilty parties, dreading a like
fate, hurried abroad ; others, among whom were the Earls of Northum-
berland and Arundel, were brought before the Council. They gave a
formal denial to the accusation, and as no proofs could be found against
them, they were acquitted. As for Throckmorton, he must stay in prison
and explain about the two papers which had been found in his house, the
one containing a list of the ports suited for landing an army, the other,
the names of the leading Catholic gentlemen of the kingdom. Put
three times to the rack, he every time said that those papers, written
by one who hated him, were laid at his door, only to ruin him the more
easily. His firmness brought back courage to those of his party ; but
at the fourth torturing, Throckmorton could keep silent no longer. He
had three times borne the most exquisite pain rather than betray his
friends and accuse himself ; but he had to give way at last. He revealed
the plans of the Duke de Guise, and gravely compromised the Spanish
ambassador. He died asserting his innocence.'
Burghley now took advantage of that declaration to accuse the
ambassador of Philip H. of plotting against the people's rights, and got
so angry that he threatened him with the severest punishments, if he did
not at once leave the country. Mendoga denied the charges brought
against him, and he, the accused, then becoming the accuser, reproached
the ministers with using for their own good the help which the Duke de
Guise meant for the King of Scotland, and with offering a reward for
the assassination of Don Juan of Austria ; then, warming by degrees,
" It belongs," said he, " neither to the Queen of England nor to any-
one to judge of my conduct ; the King, my master, alone has a right to
ask me for an account of it. As far as regards the punishments with
which I am threatened, I heed them not, and if any one wish to go further,
it must be sword in hand, not otherwise. Moreover, I await only my
passport to quit England." He took leave of the ministers, assuring
them that as they had not recognised him as minister of peace, they
should do so as minister of war. He left London greatly enraged,
received the thanks of his Sovereign, managed that Wood, whom Eliza-
beth had sent to Philip H., got no audience of the King, and went to
Paris, where he became the heart and soul of all conspiracies.^
1 Tassis to Philip II., 22d December, and ''Various State Papers. — Teulet, III., 263-.
Relacion de lo Succecido en Inglaterra.— V., 327 ; M. Mignet, II., 240, 241 ; Strype'
Teulet, v., 322-324; Robertson's History, II., III., 153, and App., 43; Keralio, Histoire cF
III, 112. Elizabeth, V., 385.
ELIZABETH'S SYSTEM OF CORRUPTION, 1584. 25
Mary had henceforth no one, save the French ambassador, to aid her,
and he was watched so closely that he could do but little. England
had spies everywhere. Walsingham sought out needy and covetous
wretches, bought them at a high price, and sent them throughout the
island, and into the ports and capitals of the continent, so that nothing
should escape him. Europe was enmeshed by that net of which London
was the centre. No one dared to.act or speak. Letters from the English
Cabinet were sent with false signatures to nobles suspected of Catholic
leanings, and penalties were incurred by those who did not hand those
letters over to the ministers ; people were obliged even to betray them-
selves ; the members of one and the same family anxiously watched one
another : and there were informers on all sides. Each day the prison
received new inmates, and the sea was furrowed by the boats of the
runaways ; it was a sad period, forcibly recalling the justly branded
reigns of Nero and Domitian.'
Protestantism, that great intellectual defection, fatally brought about
other smaller defections ; for when faith is gone from the heart, fidelity
is very near taking leave. The ambassadors were much annoyed
by that state of matters ; they knew not whom to trust, having traitors
even in their own houses. Elizabeth had bought, one after the other,
those on whom Mary Stuart most relied. Cherelles, the secretary,
had allowed himself to be bribed f Archibald Douglas, whom Mary,
for some time past, looked upon as one of the pillars of her party, and
for whom she was asking a pension,^ was also betraying his mistress."*
Fowler, formerly attached to the Countess of Lennox, had shamefully
sold himself,' and after those treasons came disloyalty still more
shameful ; there were Gray,^ Arran,'' and James himself,^ vile characters,
^ Camden, III., 377 ; Smolett's History, treme consolation que j'en ay regu (from
book v., chap, vii., No. 51, 52 ; Rapin Thoyras, Fontenai's visit) ayant entendu par luy
VII., 394. plusieurs particularitez de vostre estat, et
'Prince Labanoff, V., 429; VI., 27, 150; sp^cialement de I'imcompr^hensible affection
VII., 173. maternelle qu'il vous plaist continuer en mon
' Idem, v., 351, 367, 384, 471 ; VI.,. 9. endroit, dont m'efforceray plus que jamais de
* Idem, VI.. 14, 22, 26, 186, 187, 265. me rendre (digne) par tous debvoirs d'humilitd
'Prince Labanoff, VI., 21. et d'obdissance en I'accomplissement de vos
^ Idem, VI., 44, 91, 123. commandemens. . . . Sur le tout je prometz
' Castelnau to the King, i6th July. — Teulet k V. M. qu'elle recepvra de moy tout le con-
III., 291, 295. tentement qu'une bonne mfere puisse esp&er
* Ellis, II., iii., 124; Robertson's History, d'un tr^s-humble et trfes-obeissant Filz, tel que
II., 120, sq. That ought not, perhaps, to be je vous seray toute ma vie." — Murdin's Papers,
charged as a fault against James VI. ; the 434. And he forbade in his kingdom, under
feeble Prince did but obey those around him. penalty of death, the pamphlets of Buchanan.
On the 13th July of the same year he wrote to — Teulet, III., 292.
his mother — " Je ne scauroys exprimer I'ex-
VOL. ir. D
2 6 THE GOWRIE CONSPIRACY, 1584.
who set a price on their deeds, and rivalled one another in lowness.
Mary could well say : —
" En feinte mes amis changent leur bienveillance,
Tout le bien qu'ils me font est desirer ma mort ;
Et comme si, mourant, j'dtais en deffailance,
Dessus mes vestements ils ont jettd le sort."
Such wholesale desertion grieved her, and often troubled her mind ;
on one of the fly-leaves of her prayer book she wrote these sad words: —
" Et plus-tost que changer de mes maux I'adventure,
Chacun change pour moi d'honneur et de nature." ^
It is wonderful that those men, so feeble before Elizabeth, displayed
in their own country the greatest energy when their rights were at
stake. Since his return to power, the Earl of Arran had made a reputa-
tion for himself, even among the most fiery nobles in Scotland. He
got the King to recall the pardon granted to the rebel lords, and pur-
sued them continually, not giving them breathing space. The Earl of
Gowrie himself, to whom the King had given a special pardon, felt the
anger of the powerful favourite. He was ordered to leave Scotland
within a few days.
He had retired to Dundee, waiting for a ship to sail, when he
learned that the Earls of Angus and Mar, the Master of Glammis and
the Hamiltons were coming back from exile, and resolved to take the
field against the Earl of Arran and the King.^ The unfortunate are
easily led away by the unlocked for chance of mending their position.
Gowrie joined them, and promised reinforcements. From that moment
he could not make up his mind to start. His long stay in Dundee,
added to the many rumours going about, raised strong suspicions
against him, and he was arrested. The Confederates, not knowing
what had happened to Gowrie, pushed forward, and were fortunate
enough to take Stirling. There they learned that their accomplice
was in the hands of James VI. That bad news took from them the
courage to go on with what they had so happily begun. They
fancied that Gowrie had betrayed them, that his imprisonment was
only a feint, and thenceforth they acted slowly and timidly ; and so
their fall was sure. James VI. hurriedly raised an army, marched to
Stirling at the head of some fifteen thousand men, and drove out the
rebels. Gowrie paid with his head the venture of his friends, which
1 Lines by Mary Stuart.— Prince Labanoff, = Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King, 23d
VII., 348, 350- and 26th April.— Teulet, III., 255, 262.
MARY'S ADVICE TO HER SON, 1584. 27
he had seconded only with good wishes, whilst his accomplices, declared
guilty of high treason, were banished for life.'
The event caused a great stir at the Court of England. Eliza-
beth, fearing, and not without reason, that James VI., irritated at
being so often attacked by the nobles whom she sheltered, might fall
back upon France or Spain, sent to Scotland, Davison," who, besides his
Scottish origin, had the advantage of knowing the ground, as in the pre-
ceding year he had accompanied la Mothe F^nelon and de Meyneville
thither. He easily succeeded in gaining over the Earl of Arran, and
before he left, it was agreed that the Earl should communicate
with Lord Hundson, Governor of Berwick, with a view to peace
between the two countries ; but really, to prevent James VI. from
marrying any other than an English Princess.^
Scotland was again at the mercy of England, and, by a strange
chance, the only person who could keep the young King from slipping
on the steep slope, was Mary Stuart, who tired of drafting treaties which
never came to anything, either owing to her son, or through the malice
of her enemies,* had taken upon herself to advise James VI. to show
every attention to Elizabeth.^ The Queen of Scots, in counselling
peace, thought, no doubt, that she might gain the good graces of
Elizabeth, but it was quite otherwise.
For a long time it had been whispered, that Shrewsbury was to be
replaced as keeper by some other, and the reports had more than once
alarmed the poor captive shut up in Sheffield ; but now the time had
come.* Shrewsbury, called to London under the pretext of arranging
matters betwixt Mary Stuart and her son,^ Was replaced by Sir Ralph
Sadler and Sommers, who, while coming under the pretence of con-
cluding peace had in reality no authority to do so;^ and Mary, deceived
by the reported friendliness of Elizabeth, did not, for some time, learn
her misfortune.
A sad discovery was in store for her ; she found out how matters
stood, and on that first grief a second almost as keen followed, when,
^ The Manner and Form of the Examination * Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissi^re,
of W., Earl of Gowry.— Bannat., Miscell. 1., 91- 22d May. — Prince Labanoff, V., 473.
106; Teulet, III., 261; v., 337; Mariorey- " Shrewsbury had several times asked to be
banks, 43-47 ; MoySe's Memoirs, 87, sq. relieved of his charge.^-Lodge's Illustrations,
2 Various State Papers. — Teulet III., 253, II., 117, et passim, 244 note.
310. ' Castelnau de Mauvissifere to the King and
' Idem., ibid.. III., 291, 229-309 ; Melville's to the Queen. — Teulet, III., 302, 308, 310.
Memoirs, 328, sq ; Rapin Thoyras, VII., 393. * Sadler's Papers, II., 344, sq. His biogra-
■* Prince Labanoff, V, 349,441, 475 ; Teulet, phy by Sir Walter Scott, xxxi., sq.
III., 230, 238 ; v., 314.
28 SHREWSBURY REMOVED FROM MARY, 1584.
within a fortnight, she was taken away from Sheffield.' The Earl of
Shrewsbury, though somewhat rough and surly, had an excellent heart.
Who was to be her gaoler now, she could not tell. Was the change of
prison to be favourable to her or a forerunner of greater severity ? She
dared not think of it. We know the unhappy feel many a pang when
leaving the places where they have suffered and wept, and if a gleam of
hope does not come to console them in the change, their desolation is
extreme ; to tear them away ^rom the places which have come to be, as
it were, in harmony with their sorrows, seems to them the most cruel
of wrongs ; they feel their loneliness the more ; the chastened state to
which they are reduced is seen in them with fearful clearness ; they
think that they have ceased to be anything, that they no longer belong
to themselves, but that they are quite at the mercy of the whims of
others. Ah ! if Mary had been able to foresee what yet awaited her
upon earth, she would have shed many tears over Sheffield, and
have regretted the prison where she had served her apprenticeship to
grief; but, it is one of the greatest gifts of God, that He, in His
inscrutable wisdom, has willed to hide the future from us.
In Scotland, the Earl of Arran, after quarrelling with the nobility,
savagely attacked the Presbyterian ministers who, with the aid of
religion, roused the people and kindled civil war. The pulpit, as I
have already observed, was, at every turn, made a political tribune.
From it, violent reproaches were hurled at the King and his favourites,
while the Court and the Government were the objects of the fiercest
satires ; and what made matters worse, the ministers said they were
accountable only to their own courts. Those pretensions, and a fault-
finding disposition had offended James VI., and had more than once
brought on severe measures. The quarrel, quieted by Durie's flight, was
renewed afresh; the glaring approval, given by the ministers to the
Ruthveii affair, had made all reconciliation impossible. War must
come ; the opportunity alone was wanted. The late defeat of the
conspirators, while annihilating a party favourable to the Presbyterians,
raised in like proportion the courage and strength of the King's party.
The ministers were commanded to account for their conduct and the
' The measures which Elizabeth adopted to borough . . . taking other waye then the
ensure the success of the removal are to be common high waye, if it maye be without
seen in Sadler's Papers, II., 351-368. I call great hindrance of your journey."— Sadler's
the reader's attention to this one :" For avoyd- Papers, II., 353. Mary cannot then have
ing of resort of people, as much as may be, been quite so much hated in England as some
you shall have care that you doo not lodge the people will have it.
said Queen in any markett towne, or great
ECCLESIASTICAL AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND, 1584. 29
language which they had used. To the reproaches which were
addressed to them by the Earl of Arran, they replied by insult ;
and the leading minister, in a prophetic tone, so successful with the
masses, said to him, that " as a true minister of the Word of God, he
pronounced his approaching ruin, as much on account of his pride and
too great audacity, as for being the most wicked counsellor that could be
near their King ; " " from which," adds the ambassador of France, who
relates the incident, " he passed to several topics." ' Their obstinacy
caused their ruin, for they were shut out from the Parliament which was
to try them, declared amenable to civil courts,^ and threatened with
death if they were again guilty of such outrages.
The promulgation of those laws at the Cross of Edinburgh gave
rise to a scandalous scene from which the ministers might have kept
aloof without injury. One among them, Robert Pont, publicly pro-
tested against the formalities, and declared null and void the decrees
by which they were condemned, seeing that the clergy had not given
their consent.^ The Government redoubled its severity, and the
ministers, in large numbers, had to bend their steps towards England.
Those struggles and quarrels made, almost useless, the presence of
Fontenai at the Court of Scotland, whither he had come to defend
the interests of Mary Stuart. That embassy passed, so to say,
unnoticed.*
It was not so with Gray's to the Court of England. Gray was a
Catholic gentleman, who, after living a long time in Paris and gaining
the confidence of the Archbishop of Glasgow, had come to live in
Edinburgh.^ A person of good breeding, learned in all the tricks of
courtiers, lively, cheerful, full of spirit, agreeable, though no buffoon,
flattering without cringing, of pleasing person and marvellously supple
mind, he soon gained the friendship of James VI. The Earl of Arran,
fearing that Gray might supplant him in the King's favour, sent him to
the Court of England as the ambassador of Scotland ; his sole object in
^ Castelnau de Mauvissi&re to the King, les juges temporels." — Papiers et Ndgociations
22d October. — Teulet, III., 313; Camden, du Rfegne de Frangois II., 467.
III., 386. ' Robertson's History, II., 108.
^ They had freed themselves therefrom at * Calderwood's History, 151-156; Prince
the Ayr Assembly 1562. — Sanderson's History, Labanoff, VI., i, 4, 25, 82.
28. Making them amenable to civil courts ° " This gentleman who hath beene alvifaies
was only applying to them an article passed notid in religion an obstinat papist, in affec-
against the Catholics by the Parliament of tion French, in devocion a professed seruant
1560 in which the innovators said: "Les of the Scottish Queen." — Davison to Walsing-
eccl^siastiques n'auront plus de jurisdiction, ham, 24th August, State Paper Office, Q.
ains comparoistront tous assignds par devant Elizabeth, Scotland.
30 NAU AND GRAY IN LONDON, 1584.
so acting was to remove a rival whom he could overthrow the more
easily in his absence.
Mary hoped much from Gray, who, in France, had shown himself
her warm partisan. As soon as she heard of his arrival in London
she asked leave for her secretary, Nau, to pay him a visit and
exchange thoughts with him relative to her freedom. At the same
time she pledged her word to Elizabeth to forget the past, to renounce
during that Queen's lifetime her rights to the Crown of England,
to support her against all her enemies, to reside as hostage in England,
and not leave without her consent, and lastly, in the event of her
return to Scotland, to make no change in the established religion.'
Those wise and acceptable conditions offered Elizabeth all possible
guarantees, yet they were not admitted. Gray, contrary to Mary
Stuart's expectation, treated of the affairs of Scotland only ; Castelnau,
with little encouragement from his King, took no heed of the affair, and
left the Scottish ambassador to act according to his will or power ; the
latter took part in the Anglican service, quarrelled with Nau, obtained
but little success for his master, and did Mary much harm by revealing to
her enemy the secrets which friendship had formerly entrusted to him.^
Those secrets were dreadful in themselves ; and what had just
happened sufficiently showed that they were not idle projects. England,
for a moment moved by Throckmorton's confession, was beginning to
recover, when the arrest of the Jesuit Creighton and the Scottish priest
Abdy gave rise to fresh alarm. Chased at sea by an English cruiser,
and on the point of being taken, Creighton tore up his papers, and threw
them overboard ; but the wind blew them back, and strewed them on
the deck ; they were picked up by a passenger, who handed them to the
English ministers. The pieces, when put together, unfolded the plot
against Elizabeth; and Creighton, on being put to the rack, told whatever
else was dark or unknown. ^ The news created a painful feeling in
England. It was now clear that people were treading on a volcano,
and that the skill of the ministers was likely to be baffled. In fear, the
friends of Elizabeth formed an Association, now well-known, to defend
the Queen's life, and pledged themselves to pursue even to the death,
not only those who should make an attempt on her life, but also the
person in favour of whom such attempts should be made."* That last
• Articles presented by Nau.— Prince La- s Camden, III., 384; Prince Labanoff, VI.,
banoff, VI., 59, sq. 44.
2 Various papers. — Prince Labanoff, VI., * Sadler's Papers, II., 431.
4-32,265; Teulet, III., 307; Camden, III., 388.
ASSOCIATION TO PROTECT THE LIFE OF ELIZABETH, 1584. 31
clause, as unjust as it was cruel, could be meant only for Mary, though
she knew nothing of the affair. The poor prisoner did not fail to notice
it when it was read to her ; yet she still had the courage to offer to add
her signature to the others.'
Thanks to more sound reasoning and more profound reflections,
the rules of the Association had to be modiiied at the next Session of
Parliament : its consequences were too revolting to be allowed in a
meeting so grave as that of Parliament. Every one felt that Mary
ought not to be made responsible for what it might please one of
her party to do of his own accord : the article was softened, and the
associates lost the power to put to death any one who should not be
found guilty by at least twenty-four of the court.""
Another article, less unreasonable, but quite as odious, was nearly
passed unanimously. It bore that every English Catholic churchman
should be guilty of high treason if he were found in the kingdom after
forty days ; that whosoever aided him should incur the penalties due to
felony ; and that any one, warned of his presence in England, who did
not denounce him within twelve days should be liable to fine or imprison-
ment at the Queen's pleasure. It also stated that the students in the
seminaries on the Continent should be bound to return home before six
months under pain of being declared traitors and losing their patrimony,
and their parents fined in a sum of one hundred pounds sterling.^
At the third reading of the bill, a Welshman named William Parry,
protested against the measure, seeing in it only a source of misery,
treachery and desperate acts hurtful to England, which it would bathe
in blood, and dangerous for private individuals, who, under that pretext,
would be loaded with fines and confiscations at the will of some favourite.
Called upon to explain his reasons, he refused to do so except before
the lords of Council. He was arrested, but afterwards released by order
of the Queen.
Parry was a man of little importance, of no great birth or remarkable
talents. He had entered Burghley's service in 1570, and was sent to the
Continent as a spy. His mission proving a failure, he returned to Eng-
land over head and ears in debt, married a rich widow, squandered her
fortune, and, the more quickly to clear himself, took it into his head to
kill his chief creditor. Burghley's influence alone saved him from the
gallows. Having again landed on the Continent, he became a Catholic,
made a show of extreme zeal for his new belief, and stole in among the
1 Articles presented by Nau. — Prince Laban- " Camden, III., 396.
off, VI., 61, No. lo. ' Idem, 397.
32 PARRY, 1584-1585.
enemies of Queen Elizabeth. Receiving from them only a somewhat
cold welcome, he wished to make himself conspicuous, and proposed to
murder the Queen of England. Creighton, to whom he had unhappily
unbosomed himself, assured him that it was a crime in the eyes of God
and men ; Palma, another Jesuit, would not listen to him ; Persons re-
fused to see him, and Dr Allen's virtues made him so respected, that
Parry dared not reveal the plan to him. Not knowing what to do, the
spy asked Morgan for letters of introduction to the Nuncio Raggazzoni,
handed to the Nuncio a letter for Cardinal Cosmo, in which he offered
his services, without hinting in the least at the murder, and returned to
England to await the reply. There, in presence of Elizabeth, before
Burghley and Walsingham, he lavished the greatest praises on himself,
gave a pompous account of his travels and services, asserted that the
Pope had urged him to assassinate the Queen, and that Cardinal Cosmo
was to write him on the subject. He indeed received the much wished-
for reply, but the letter was so harmless, that he was refused the pen-
sion he asked for, and was told that he had done nothing deserving
of that favour. In his distress, he asked the Governorship of St
Catherine's Hospital, wearied the counsellors with his demands, and
had at length to return to his old trade, and seek fortune among
conspirators.
As bad fortune would have it, there was among the exiles in the pay
of England one Edmond Nevil, of the ancient family of Westmoreland.
This Nevil claimed a magnificent inheritance then in the hands of Lord
Burghley. Parry joined him, and by way of consolation, depicted
Burghley to him under the gloomiest colours, telling him that he should
never gain his case against a man of such high position, and that he
should not only lose his suit, but also ruin himself, as Burghley was his
enemy. He wished thus to drive Nevil to despair, and lead him into
wicked designs against the Queen through hatred for her minister.
There was, for a time, a trial of skill and double-dealing between the
two knaves, both in the pay of England ; at length Nevil getting the
upper-hand, accused Parry of seeking the life of Elizabeth, and the spy
was thrown into the Tower.
During his trial he gave proofs of the meanest cowardice, threw the
blame upon others, and defended himself with a clumsiness by no means
honourable to his title of Jurisconsult ; his sentence, however, recalled
him to manly dignity. At that supreme moment he asserted his
innocence, declared his confession null, void and false, as it was wrung
from him by fear or given in the hope of bettering himself, denied that
MARY STUART AND THE ASSOCIATION, 1585. 33
he had ever seriously thought of the murder, and asked to have a fresh
trial on other grounds. No heed was taken, and the sentence was con-
firmed. Driven to distraction, he exclaimed, " Alas ! I die because I
have defended myself badly ; I die by the hand of the Queen : she shall
answer for it before God. I die innocent : my blood shall fall back
upon you — it shall fall back upon the Queen." "And what about the
letter of Cardinal Cosmo ? " said Topcliffe, the Attorney-General.
" Sir," replied Parry, " you are wrong, I firmly deny that the letter
treated of such a subject ; weigh it in good faith, and you shall know
what to believe."' In the fatal cart, on the way from prison to the
scaffold, he again asserted his innocence. He was hanged in the palace
yard at Westminster. His body, taken down alive, was opened, and
it is related that the wretched man uttered a deep moan when his heart
was torn out.''
So many conspiracies entered upon without the knowledge of the
Queen of Scots, grieved her, and caused her to write, in her own hand,
a deed by which she bound herself to the Association for the defence of
Elizabeth, and declared "with the word of a Queen, on her faith and
honour to repudiate from now, and hold for ever as her enemies, all
those, without any exception, who by counsel, procuration, consent, or
any other means, should make an attempt on the life of the Queen, her
good sister, pledging herself to pursue them in every way, without ever
ceasing until the end, till she had obtained sufficient and exemplary
justice, punishment and revenge." ^ Then she wrote to Elizabeth,
congratulating her on having so fortunately escaped from the hateful
enterprises of her enemies, and protesting the sincerity of her attach-
ment. " I may just tell you," she wrote to her, " on my honour and
conscience, that you shall not find me mixed up in any conspiracy
whatever, abhorring, more than any one else in Christendom, a practice
so hateful and acts so horrible ; for, to tell you the truth, Madam, I
cannot but think that those who might attempt your life are ready for
mine also, and now-a-days mine seems almost to depend on yours; well
knowing, that if you happen to fall, you have near you some new
associates who will soon make me tread hard upon your steps. But I
had rather go before, than follow with such a burden. "'^
"As for the accident which has lately befallen that unhappy man
' Sadler's Papers, II., 500. ' Declaration of Mary Stuart, 5th January
2 Mendoga to Philip II., 5th April.— Teulet, 1585.— Prince Labanoff, VI., 76, 77.
v., 341 ; Camden, III., 391-39S ; Strype, III., * Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, 23d March. —
passim, especially 251 sq., app. 103. Prince Labanoff, VI., 139.
VOL. II. E
34 LETTER OF THE CATHOLICS TO ELIZABETH, 1585.
Pari," she wrote on the 2d of March, to the French ambassador, " I
greatly praise God for the grace which He has therein granted to the
said Queen, my good sister, in having happily discovered a design so
horrible and hateful."' Another time she wrote : " I shall never hold
less dearly (the life of the said Queen, my good sister) than my own,
whatever opinion to the contrary may be wickedly or seemingly con-
ceived. And would to God that on all sides one should cut down in
good earnest such corrupt and detestable ministers as I am told the
said Parray was." She twice asserted that she never had spoken to
Parry, who was quite unknown to her.^
The Catholics also, on their side, sought to have the rigour of the
English government softened towards them. That explains how,
before the bill sentencing them to death, received the royal sanction,
they sent to Elizabeth an eloquent petition, in which they professed
openly to acknowledge her as their true and legitimate Queen, reproving
and condemning all those who should raise a hand against her, denying
that the Pope even had the power to advise or try to deprive Elizabeth
of her crown, and expelling from their body those who should dare to
support such follies. They entreated her not to consider as unfaithful
subjects men whose conscience prevented them from taking part in the
ceremonies of the established worship, but to pity their situation, and
leave them their Catholic priests. Richard Shelley, of the county of
Essex, came forward in the name of his co-religionists, and presented
the petition ; but he was sent to prison and died there several years
later, the victim of his nobleness.^
The good Catholics needed a more than human patience to bear
their ills, and what is most astonishing is, that conspiracies were not
more frequent in England. If the panegyrists of the divine'' Elizabeth
extol her clemency and gentleness, as she herself took care to boast of
her morals, they are quite free to do so ; but in spite of their efforts, and
notwithstanding their falsehoods, the facts speak out too loudly to be
denied. Tortures, at which one shudders, were invented to bring about
the apostacy of a great number. The wooden horse, so frequently em-
ployed under the tyrants of Rome, was again put into use ; in that way men
were questioned under torture, as formerly when iron gauntlets bruised
' Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissiere, ' Strype's Annals, III., 298.
2d March 1585.— Prince Labanoff, VI., 168. " The word is WiUiam Wood's. "A relation
2 Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissiere, of Mr Wood's Conference with the Scottishe
24th and 29th March.— Prince Labanoff, VI., Queene."— State Paper Office, Mary Queen of
146, 149- Scots, XIII.
PERSECUTION, 1585. 35
the wrists of the martyrs. When his hands were firmly fastened, with
the aid of a screw, the CathoHc was raised from the ground by means
of those gauntlets, to make his sufferings more intense : happy were
those who soon lost their senses. Lastly, a machine so frightful was
invented, that no suitable name for it could be found ; and it was called
at random " the Scavenger's Daughter." It was a somewhat wide hoop
of iron, in which the victim was compressed ; the hoop caught the sufferer
under the knees, bent him, doubled him up, and pressed his legs against
his breast with such force, that the victim became a lump of shapeless
flesh, and that the blood issued from his mouth and nostrils, sometimes
even from the tips of his fingers and toes. The Catholic prisoners num-
bered hundreds, while seventy priests were banished at the same time."
To tortures were added the fears which the Act of Association
caused them ; for at every moment they dreaded to be compromised.
Protestant lords, greedy for riches or anxious to be thought zealous,
made a point to persecute them. They were made to pay heavy con-
tributions, and were pursued and tracked like wild beasts, ignorant where
they might find help. Those who could flee, took hurriedly to boats and
gained the Continent, after the example of their predecessors ; they did
so by night, lest they should be seen. Others went to seek shelter on
the estates of the Queen's favourites, to escape those who pursued
them. They were all much to be pitied.
The sufferings of those unhappy men, more than her own sorrows,
caused Mary great grief; and yet what sympathy was wanted for
herself, in the sad position to which she had been brought ! I
shall not weary the reader with gloomy accounts, nor sadden him
beyond measure with afflictions three centuries old ; but how can one
help being sorrowful in the midst of so many horrors ? On the 3d of
September (n.s. 13th), Mary left Sheffield for Wingfield, peaceful
enough in mind. Perhaps a ray of hope had just shone " through the
iron bars that shut her from the world," comforting her, and telling her
of a chance of freedom. During the journey she conversed freely with
her keepers. " Do you think," said she to Sommers, who watched her
closely, " that I should try to escape if I could ? " "I do think so,"
replied he, " for it is natural in every creature narrowly confined to seek
1 Memoirs of Missionary Priests, by R. to all that looks like recrimination, I cannot
Challoner, Edit. 1843, I., passim ; Camden, help quoting an almost unknown document,
III., 378; Lingard, II., App. D.D. I am far which I submit to Protestants and Catholics,
from criticising the Protestants, and from and which, without further remark, I leave to
sharing the strong feelings of several of my their thoughts. Proofs, I.
co-religionists ; yet, in spite of my repugnance
36 MARY AT TUTBURY, 1585.
for liberty." " No, indeed," replied the Queen with vivacity, " I swear
to you, on my word, that I should not do so. You mistake my senti-
ments ; my heart is too noble for that, and I had rather die with honour
in the depths of a prison, than flee with shame." After a while she
added, " And if the Queen, of her own free will, were to set me free,
whither do you think that I should go ? " "I think, madam, that you
would go to Scotland, into your estates, as you have good reason to
do." " It is true," replied Mary, " I should like to go there, but only to
see my son, and give him good advice : then I should retire to France;
there to live in quiet, and free from the cares of government, living
with a small circle of friends upon my small inheritance."' It was a
brilliant, but passing dream, alas ! never realised.
On the 13th of January (n.s. 23d) she left Wingfield for the frightful
Castle of Tutbury. She wrote on the day of her departure to Queen
Elizabeth: " Madam, my good sister, to please you, as I desire in all
things, I now take the road to Tutbury, convinced that there, both in
my treatment and all other respects, it will please you, according to the
trust which I place entirely in you, to have due regard to my good and
safety, as on my side, I shall endeavour more and more to deserve it."''
The journey from Wingfield to Tutbury tried Mary's patience : it was
in mid-winter, and the royal captive was so weakened by three months
of sufferings and sickness that she could scarcely move.^ The castle
wherein she was to dwell was an old, isolated house, on a lofty
height exposed to all the winds. The sad tenant of the old castle has
left us her own description of it. She wrote to Castelnau after a stay
of nine months, this long and too truthful account : " To show you then
clearly, in the first place, the hardships I have to endure in my dwelling,
and of what you ought to complain for me to the said Queen (Elizabeth)
who, as I presume, has never been fully told of the place, I shall men-
tion that I am here in an enclosure of walls, on the top of a mountain
exposed to all winds and the inclemencies of the weather ; within the
said enclosure, like the one in the wood at Vincennes, there is an
old shooting lodge, built of timber and plaster work, with chinks on all
sides, and not a lath to hold together the plaster, which is broken in
endless places ; the said dwelling, distant from the walls about eighteen
feet, is so low that the earthen rampart which is behind the wall is as
high as the top of the dwelling, so that the sun cannot shine on that
1 Sadler's Papers, 11., 393. ^ Mary Stuart to the ambassador of France.
^ Mary Stuart to Queen Elizabeth, 13th — Prince Labanoff, VI., 220.
nuary. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 86.
HER SUFFERINGS, 1585. 37
side ; no pure air can reach it, but only damp and rot, to such an extent
that it is impossible to put there any furniture which is not covered in
four days with mould. I leave you to judge how such a state of things
acts upon the body ; and, in a word, the most of the rooms are rather
cells for vile and abject criminals than a dwelling for a person of my
rank or for others of much inferior quality. I am sure there is not a
lord in this kingdom who would not think it a torture and tyranny to
be obliged to live in a place so cheerless and narrow. Yea too, I know
there be others of lower degree than lords, who wish to see me in a
plight worse than their own ; but I am sure they even, must look upon
such treatment as inhuman and ruthless. The lodging, I have for my
own person, as all those who have been here can witness, is only two
wretched little rooms, so very cold, especially during the night, that, but
for the screens and fences of curtains and tapestry made by myself, I
could not live there a single day ; and of those who have nursed me at
night during my sickness, scarcely one has escaped without illness,
inflammation or catarrh. Sir Amyas can testify that on one occasion
he saw three of my maids sick at the same time ; and my physician
himself, who came in for his share of illness, told him plainly several
times, that he could not answer for my health during the coming winter,
if I had to stay in this house ; for if it is to be replastered, or otherwise
repaired and increased, think how unhealthy it must be with all the wet
lime and mortar, for me, who am already unable to bear the least damp-
ness ; so there is no need whatever to add any new rooms, or make
repairs this winter. As for the house whither they mean to take me
during the said alterations, it is a block of building close by this, and my
keeper can vouch for it that it could not lodge even the few servants I
have ; and to live without them in such a lonely place would shatter
my most nerveless frame : whereon, for the present, I wish to say no
more. If I must come to the comforts, I have, as I have already in-
formed you, no gallery or study wherein to retire at times alone, except
two little holes, looking out on the gloomy circuit of the wall and the
larger of the two is only nine feet square. To take out-door recreation,
on foot or in my chaise (there being in this mountainous place no open
space) I had only a quarter of an acre of land, round about the stables,
which Sommer caused, last winter, to be ploughed and fenced in with
stakes, a place, to look at it, where you might keep pigs, but to name it
a garden would be absurd. No shepherd's patch of ground in the
neighbourhood but more delights the eye. As for riding, the whole
winter through, I have found that at one time the snow, at another the
38 MARY'S SUFFERINGS, 1585.
waters so cut up the roads that one cannot go at any pace a mile ; the
same with driving ; so that, when I need exercise, I must go on foot.
As no house, with so many low bred people in it as this, can be long
kept clean, however orderly they may be, so this house, and I blush to
have to say it, wanting proper conveniences for the necessity of nature,
has a sickening stench ever lingering in it. On every Saturday, too,
the cesspools must be cleared out, even to the one below my windows,
whence come none of the perfumes of Arabia."'
Her requests were left unheeded. Burghley, who formerly showed
her some kindness, decoyed by the proverb, that imitation is the sincerest
of flattery, seemed afraid to intercede for her. She was so weak that
she could not take out-door exercise, and horses for her carriage were
refused.^ She had to ask, as a favour, that some of her attendants be
allowed to go to town, under proper watch, to buy the little delicacies
needed in a sick chamber.^
Her bodily pains were more cruel through her keen, mental anxieties.
Her son, misled by Gray, seemed almost regardless of her misfortunes.'*
While that grief was young, Mary again wrote to the ambassador of
France : " Monsieur de Mauvissiere, I have just received through
Sommers, a letter which, he says, is from my son ; it is so far, both
in language and in substance, wanting in the duty and fealty which my
said son owes me, and so different from his former promises, that I
cannot believe it to be his, but rather one prompted by Gray, who, full
of impiety towards God, and dissimulation towards men, thinks he can
overtop everyone by carrying out what he has undertaken, namely :
the entire estrangement of my said son from me.^
To Elizabeth she wrote almost the same words, and in strong terms,
insisting on the bad way in which the master of Gray was serving
her : " recognizing therein," she said, " almost word for word the same
reasons as Gray wrote to me in cypher. ... I undertake, whatever
you may have been told, to make a liar of that little busybody who,
counselled by one of your ministers, has undertaken to bring about the
estrangement of me and my son."^ Such shameful work hurt the
1 Mary Stuart to Messieurs de Mauvissiere, = Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissiere,
and de Chiteauneuf, 6th September, 1585. 12th March.— Prince Labanoff, VI., 123.
— Prince Labanoff, VI. ,215, 218. •'Mary Stuart to Queen Elizabeth, 12th
2 Various letters in Prince Labanoff, VI., March.— Prince Labanoff, VI., 129. Gray's
9'i 93, 96 passim. work is so much the more hateful that James
3 Mary Stuart to Lord Burghley, 2nd March. VI.had,foralongtimepast,thoughtrespectfully
—Prince Labanoff, VI., 99. of his mother and had spoken of her in the best
1 Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissiere, terms.— Sadler's Papers, II,, 373, 378.
2dand 6th March. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 101,
112.
MARY AND HER SON, 1585. 39
mother's heart. " Alas ! " said she, " what can be more unhallowed,
what more hateful to God and man than for an only child, to whose
lot everything falls, and has been freely given, not only to rob his own
mother of her state and crown. . . . but also to be so bewitched
by wicked and secret counsel as to choose to retain them by usurpation
and the violence of her subjects (who threaten him daily) rather than
by that mother's frank consent."'
Her heart, throbbing with many fears, prompted her to curse him,
forsake him and disinherit him, for the good of heirs who should have
" clutches strong enough to grasp all that might be placed within their
reach;"'' then, when her just anger was over, she threw all the blame
upon Gray, cried out upon his conduct,' and was again more a mother
than a Queen. But soon, anxiety taking the place of anger, she pitied her
son, and reproached him with having " sufficient years and understanding
to choose between good and ill ;" she dreaded for him the slowly learnt
lessons of a hard experience, and begged the King of France to send
to Scotland a man of good counsel, who might yet save her son."*
Mary must no doubt, in her painful situation, have regretted that
her son should behave towards her in a manner so disrespectful. To
be forgotten by him was of itself a great blow, but that he should side
with her enemies became too much to bear. Whichever way the
unfortunate Queen turned, she found none but hearts of stone, and only
scenes of revolting barbarism. From the windows of her dwelling,
changed into a prison for common criminals, she could not gaze on the
coimtry without tearful sights meeting her gaze. On one occasion it
was a young Catholic, kept for some time in a turret, within ten paces of
her room, who was dragged to the Protestant Church, despite his cries
and protestations, while on the morrow, she saw him hanging on the wall
opposite her window ;= five days later, she saw another body drawn up
from a well.* Such daily spectacles filled Mary with disgust, and her old
' Mary Stuart to Queen Elizabeth, 23rd of any cause I had in hand, specially for the
March. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 135, 136. League." — Randolph toWalsingham, 2d March,
^ Various Letters. — Prince Labanoff, VI., State Paper Office, Queen Elizabeth, Scotland,
125, 130, 136 XXXIX.
^ Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, 23d March, and ' Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissifere
to Castelnau de Mauvissifere, on the 24th. lothjuly. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 183, 184.
Prince Labanoff, VI., 135, 142. "The Master 'Mary Stuart to Queen Elizabeth, and to
of Gray," wrote Randolph, " confesseth and Castelnau de Mauvissifere, 8th and gth April.
speaketh much of the honour that he hath — Prince Labanoff, VI., 152, 160.
receaved of her Majestie, promisinge to ac- ^ Mary Stuart to the ambassadors of France
knowledge the same to his live's end, offering 6th September. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 219.
his seruice with the formost for the furtherance
40 SIR AMYAS PAULET, 1585.
recollections of Tutbury, added to the present scenes, offered her only
mournful pictures. It was her first prison in England ; there, had
begun for her, that life, of very great trials, hardships, and affront ;
there, her good Rallay had died ; there, several of her servants now lay
ill hoping for death ; all around was marked with extreme sadness, all
seemed to forbode for her an unhappy end. She now spoke only of
death ; her hope and her affections had gone forward towards the
grave. Her soul stung with grief, at the sight of so many disgraces,
gave way under misfortune ; she saw herself at the close of her career,
more dead than alive. " If the life of poor wretches is not respected," said
she, " why should mine be by those who have an interest in my death ?
Matters proceed too quickly and steadily to leave any hope ; the Kings
of Christendom know not the danger which I run. This prison is my
ruin ; I have lost the use of my limbs ; the strength and health of my
body are gone ; my good fame has received many blows, and perhaps
at length, all that I have left in the world may be taken from me."'
To whom could she now apply f France and Scotland had forsaken
her ; Rome and Madrid were too far off; the Guises powerless, and her
friends persecuted, she had no hope left but in Burghley and the
Queen of England. From the first she asked her freedom, depicting to
Burghley all she had suffered during her long captivity : " It is not in
my power," said she to him, " to bear it longer; I therefore entreat you,
once more, most affectionately, to end my captivity, and not keep me
here to pine away slowly to death." ° But the minister was silent. Mary
at last wrote to Elizabeth, " I implore you, with clasped hands, Madame,
to grant me, on any condition whatever, except my conscience, my re-
lease from this long and miserable captivity." ^ Elizabeth heard, but
granted nothing : all hope was now gone.
The coming of Sir Amyas Paulet, to watch the Queen of Scots, with
fifty soldiers as a guard, "^ was the answer of Burghley and Elizabeth.
Sir Amyas was a rigid, harsh and austere Puritan, incapable of a bad
deed, an ardent enemy of Catholicism, and moreover Leicester's
creature ; his future depended on the manner in which he should fulfil
his duties as gaoler. The Earl of Shrewsbury who was a gentleman
was generally supposed to have treated Mary as an unfortunate Queen ;
but Paulet treated her as a prisoner. He strictly forbade her all com-
1 Various Letters of Mary Stuart.— Prince ' Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, 8th April.— Prince
Labanoff, VI., 153, i6i, 163, 222. Labanoff, VI., 154.
= Mary Stuart to Lord Burghley, 2d March. ^ Various Letters of Mary.— Prince Labanoff,
—Prince Labanoff, VI., 99. VI., 275, 278, 284, 335.
SIR AMYAS PAULET, 1585. 41
munication with the outside, and even prohibited her giving alms to
the poor.' Burghley having told him to beware of an escape, he uttered
this dismal reply : " Mary cannot escape without great negligence of
my part. If I should be violently attacked, I will be so assured by the
grace of God, that she shall die before me."'' Such was the keeper of
Mary Stuart.
> Various State Papers. — Teulet, V., 345; * Sir Amyas Paulet to Lord Burghley, 12th
Prince Labanoff, VI., 172, 228, 276, 377. June. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 176, Note i.
VOL. II.
CHAPTER XXII.
1585— 1586.
IMPRISONMENT OF THE EARL OF ARUNDEL — DEATH OF NORTHUMBERLAND — DEPARTURE
OF CASTELNAU — EDWARD WOTTON IN SCOTLAND — ENTERPRISE OF STIRLING
WILLIAM KNOLLYS IN SCOTLAND — MISSION OF M. D'ESNEVAL — NEGOTIATIONS
BETWIXT ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND — MARY AT CHARTLEY — HER LETTER TO WAL-
SINGHAM — THE BAD STATE OF HER HEALTH — CONTAGION AT CHARTLEY — LEAGUE
BETWIXT ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND — INTRIGUES OF WALSINGHAM — MORGAN — GIFFORD
— BALLARD — BABINGTON— PROGRESS OF THE CONSPIRATORS — DISCOVERY OF THE
CONSPIRACY — ARREST OF THE GUILTY — MARY STUART REMOVED FROM CHARTLEY —
SEIZURE OF HER PAPERS — LETTER FROM ELIZABETH TO PAULET — A BAPTISM.
np H E affair of Throckmorton, and especially that of Parry, had made
-*- EHzabeth's government suspicious. The Earls of Arundel and
Northumberland soon felt the effects of it. The first, after a somewhat
dissolute waste of giddy youth, had been, by severe trials, brought
back to more honourable conduct. His wife, a fervent Catholic, from
whom he had been estranged for a long time, had just been imprisoned
on account of her convictions, and the grief which that caused him drew
him to Catholicism. Already charged, truly or falsely, with being mixed
up in various plots, he was closely watched in his own house. His mis-
fortunes, following closely on one another, made him think seriously,
and he attributed them to his delay in changing his religion, and accepted
them as coming from God. He then openly embraced Catholicism.
That step displeased Elizabeth, and gave his enemies new pretexts
to accuse him. There was only one way to shun the danger, and that
was to flee as soon as possible to the Continent, and wait there till
passions cooled down. Arundel, with regret, made up his mind to go.
Before starting, he sent to Elizabeth an eloquent letter, in which he went
over all that he had done to obtain her good graces, the dangers which
he had run in her service, the slanders against him, his own disgrace,
that of his father and grandfather, both victims, though innocent, of a
successful intrigue, but when he came to think of the sad state of his
poor wife, he had to give way to grief. " So many miseries," said he,
" have brought me to this, that I cannot live without risking my salvation,
IMPRISONMENT OF THE EARL OF ARUNDEL, 1585. 43
and that I cannot save my soul without exposing my days." He
besought Elizabeth to pardon his convictions, and not crush him
with her anger, but to accept fresh pledges of his fidelity/
Without waiting for a reply, he set sail, and already felt free upon
the dancing waves, when, in the offing, he saw two sails making all
speed towards his ship. Fright seized him when they turned out to be
the vessels of a pirate called Kelloway, who was in the pay of England.
The crew surrendered after a short resistance, and Arundel, wounded,
was taken to London, and shut up in the Tower. He had been betrayed
by his servants, and by the pilot who steered him, and his arrest on
the open sea had been planned even before he sailed. When before
the Commission, he defended himself, with so much clearness and truth-
fulness, that his accusers stood abashed. The charge rested principally
on a letter said to be written by the Earl, in which he spoke of coming
at the head of a numerous army to dethrone Elizabeth. The Earl
boldly denied the authorship of the letter, and Walsingham got so
puzzled in trying to explain the origin of the writing, that the Commis-
sioners, ashamed of the fraud, made no further allusion to it. But the
ruin of Arundel had been determined upon, and the astute minister, con-
fused at having been caught in the act of forging, brought him to the
Star-Chamber, and accused him of contumacy, he having left England
without leave, and written to banished persons. He was fined in the sum
of ten thousand pounds sterling, and condemned to be imprisoned during
the Queen's pleasure. His brother and sister shared his confinement.
The Countess having given birth to a son, craved leave soon after
to see the prisoner ; she was punished for her boldness, and as if, in
those times of discord and treachery, it was a crime to love one
another, Elizabeth, with a refinement of cruelty hard to imagine,
turned, into tortures, the sweetest affections, friendship, motherhood
and even marriage itself, all which, God, in His goodness, has granted
as blessings to poor humanity. The Earl was treated with the utmost
rigour, and kept in prison all his life.^
On learning the mishap which had just befallen that descendant of
Norfolk, Mary could not refrain from tears ; she wrote at once to the
Countess a letter of condolence and encouragement : " Right truly and
well beloved cousin," said she, " we have been informed of your
injuries and afflictions, no doubt much increased by those that have
happened to your husband, who is so dear to us ; nor should we have
' Camden III., 398 ; Lingard.
''MS. Life of Philip Howard, quoted in Lingard.
44 DEPARTURE OF CASTELNAU, 1585.
been the last to signify the same to you, had an opportunity presented,
of which we have most unworthily and wrongfully been deprived. We
have felt great grief on the one side from your afflictions, and comfort
on the other, to understand the godly constancy in both of you, for the
defence of our faith and religion, a matter for all good Christians to
hold in precious remembrance. You have been lights of faith and
honour to guide the weaker brethren, and to recover others by your
godly example, who, through malice or ignorance, have declined from
our faith." '
Arundel had just been condemned, when the Earl of Northumber-
land, held prisoner in the Tower for more than a year, and without
trial, left his prison for a better world. He was a Catholic, and for that
crime was put to death within a few steps of the Earl of Arundel's cell
(3°th June). They tried to prove him a conspirator, but failed, and after
his death it was noised abroad that he had committed suicide, but the
pains taken to make people believe that, raised doubts, and an enquiry
into the facts showed that it was false. That crime lies at the door of
Christopher Hatton, one of Elizabeth's favourites.^
Misfortunes never come singly. Castelnau, who had all along
pleaded with success the cause of the captive Queen, was on the point
of leaving England. Mary was thus to sustain a great loss ; she had
received him on his arrival with a certain reserve ; but the loyal
conduct of the ambassador had, little by little, removed her suspicions,
and a sincere friendship had sprung up betwixt them. Mary had
consented to be the god-mother of his daughter ; Castelnau, on his
side, appreciated the noble qualities of the Queen of Scots ; every
detail of her sad life was known to him, as the captive kept nothing
from him. So many ties to be broken off at a moment when the future
looked so gloomy, grieved not only the ambassador, but also his
interesting protdgde. But he must obey, for he had been recalled
to France where it was meant to employ him otherwise ; and if he was
allowed so long a stay in England, it was only, through exceptional
favour, on account of his wife. The Sieur de Chateauneuf, who was to
take his place, had been made ambassador in November of the preced-
ing year.3
Mary was not ungrateful to Castelnau. He found in France hearts
1 Mary Stuart to the Countess of Arundel, Cecil.— Murdin's Papers, 811 ; Camden, III.,
3otli July. — Prince LabanofF, VI., 190. 400.
= Mendoga to Philip II., i6th July. — ^ Castelnau de Mauvissi^re to the King, 14th
Teulet, v., 343. Sir Walter Raleigh to November.— Teulet, III., 320, 321.
WOTTON IN SCOTLAND, 1585. 45
quite ready to welcome and thank him ; the Court and the League
were biassed in his favour. " I most affectionately commend him to
you," wrote Mary to the Queen of France, " as a gentleman to whom I
am much indebted for the services which he has done me in all my
affairs. I hope, that loving me as you do, you will show him how far
my influence can command you." ' The Duke de Guise about the
same time received a letter, and then another, full of the most flattering
praises of the ambassador, and begging thanks and protection for him,
and the bailiwick of Vitry as a reward for his services.''
Elizabeth, now rid of Castelnau whose watchfulness had never
wearied,^ laid a snare for James VI. by sending him as ambassador,
Edward Wotton. The envoy could not be better chosen. He was
sprightly, and very witty, while, beneath that seeming mirth, he was
knavish to the highest degree. When twenty years of age he nearly led
astray the old constable de Montmorency. He was to make pretence
only of diverting and keeping the young King company, but in reality was
to try to overthrow the Earl of Arran who had abandoned the policy
of England, as hastily as he had embraced it, eighteen months before.
He soon betrayed his true colours on a rather important occasion.
For some time past James had thoughts of marrying a Danish
Princess. Ambassadors had been sent by the King of Denmark to
Edinburgh on that grave matter. Wotton managed so well that the
Danish envoys were received in the most uncivil manner ; he spoke of
them as ridiculous personages, and had them scoffed-at and insulted
by the people. Not satisfied with a success so complete, he allowed
his "thwart disnatured mind" to assert in presence of even James VI.,
that the King of Denmark, sprung from a race of merchants, deserved
no consideration. Those words addressed to a King, so thoughtless as
was the King of Scotland, had the desired effect ; the ambassadors did
not get the audience which they asked, being put off with excuses,
and getting only mock promises. It took all Melville's skill to make
James see his error, and shun a shameful quarrel. Wotton, in those
circumstances, did not rest satisfied with one bad deed. While at
Court he drew a grotesque picture of the ambassadors, and of their
country. He urged the poor Danes to break off the negotiation, show-
ing that the conduct of James was very offensive towards their King,
^ Marie Stuart h. la Reine Louise de France, ' He had managed to foresee most of the
15th August. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 208. events in Scotland. — See Teulet; State Papers,
^ Mary Stuart to the Duke de Guise, 15th passim.
August. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 209, 210.
46 WOTTON IN SCOTLAND, 1585.
offering them money, and making endless protestations of devotedness
and thousands of promises which he did not mean to keep. If, at a later
period, the ambassadors were better treated and allowed to depart with
some magnificence, it was against the will of the English envoy, and in
spite of his efforts.'
Wotton centred his attention on the Earl of Arran, and strove to
overthrow him,' to the profit of the Master of Gray. An event which
no one could have foreseen served him wonderfully in that second
enterprise.
The Laird of Fernyhirst, a great friend and near relative of the
Earl of Arran, had had an interview with the Governor of the English
Marches. At that meeting there arose a difference between the English
and Scots about an Englishman taken, in the act of stealing, by Ferny-
hirst's men. From words they came to blows, and the son of the Earl
of Bedford, more eager, perhaps, than the rest, was mortally wounded.
Elizabeth pretended to see only foul play in the murder ; she laid the
blame on the Earl of Arran, and enjoined the King of Scotland to
place in her power the Laird of Fernyhirst and the Earl, his relative.
Owing to that misfortune, Arran was for a time obliged to leave the
Court, and withdraw to his estates. Wotton took advantage of his
absence to supplant him beside the King; he joined his efforts to those
of the Master of Gray, Bellenden and Maitland := but, strange though it
be, the feeble James VL remained firm in that friendship. That resist-
ance saved the Earl, for, during the misunderstanding, Wotton, accused
of having urged the Scottish rebels, living in England, to return home,
was obliged to give up the attack so as to justify himself. Unable
to do so on account of the facts already known, he tried to take the
person of the King by surprise ; but his plans were laid open, and the
traitor, forced to flee from purtishment, retired to Berwick.^
That check gave spirit to the refugees, and forced them to act
quickly, as much for their own interest as for that of England. Arran,
having returned to Court, levied troops, sent orders, provisioned the
forts, and prepared for a desperate struggle. When the rebels crossed
the borders, he thought he could cope with them. His despair equalled
his astonishment when he saw that none of his orders, given with so much
^ Melville's Memoirs, 335, 338 ; Moyse's woman, and one blunderd of witchcrafte." —
Memoirs, 96, 97. Balfour's Annales, I., 383.
^ They proposed "to separat the King from ^ Moyse's Memoirs, 96 sq. ; Prince Laba-
his ambitious and leud Minion the Earle of noff, VI., 226, 231.
Arran, and his lady, a lasciuious viccked
ENTERPRISE OF STIRLING, 1585. 47
wisdom, had been executed. He saw with surprise that those around
him had sold themselves to the English, and that his orders were not
carried out, but that they were stopped, tampered with, or sent only as
information for the rebels, by Gray and others of his party. The exiles,
supported by the gold of England, the counsels of Wotton and the
entreaties of their fellow-countrymen, advanced with all the more assur-
ance ; they were at St Ninians, in sight of Stirling, before the Earl had
time to look about him. The day after, he was in flight, the town occu-
pied, and the Castle invested. James, powerless to defend himself,
surrendered to the rebels, who took the chief strongholds of the
kingdom, obtained from the King a pardon, which they had ratified
by Parliament ; and Scotland passed, without any shock, under another
rule. Arran, ruined at one blow, and declared guilty of high treason,
never rose again.^
One may imagine the grief which Mary felt on hearing of the fresh
attempt against the person of her son. Sir Amyas told her of it, likely
in obedience to his Sovereign, with all possible details, and an intention
which did not escape the prisoner. "That news," she said, "has indeed
had the effect which you aimed at in telling me so hastily, namely,^ — to
load me with sorrow upon sorrow, as much in mind as in body, without
any pity for me in the serious weakness to which the rigours of this prison
have at length reduced me. But what grieves me most is to see myself
entirely debarred from bringing any remedy for this misfortune, being
bound hand and foot, with hardly anything left me but my voice, and it,
scarce strong enough to bewail to God a treatment so cruel and so
inhuman ; deprived moreover of all other news of Christendom, whence
I might receive the least consolation in the world."'' She threw all the
blame of it on Elizabeth. " She can reap," continued she, " only dis-
honour and a great burden to her conscience, by thus allowing her own
blood to be ruined, and this kingdom to be defrauded of its true and
legitimate heirs, it being her duty, and in her power, to remedy it. If,
being immortal, she were to enjoy for ever this crown, or had to make
sure of it for her own issue, such proceedings might be thought politic ;
but, seeing that she secures her reign for herself as long as God may please
to let her live, I cannot understand for what others after her, she wishes
to burden her conscience so heavily, by depriving us of right and life." ^
1 Gray's Relation concerning the Surprise of ' Mary Stuart to Chiteauneuf, 8th Dec. —
theKingatStirhng; Bannat.Miscel.,1.,133-139. Prince Labanoff, VI., 237.
MdmoireduBarond'Esneval; Teulet,IV.,53sq.; ^ The same to the same. — VI., 241.
Prince Labanofif, VI.,232 ; Sanderson, 107 sq.
48 NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND, 1585.
The negotiations between England and Scotland gained fresh
vigour when the government of James VI. was strengthened. WiUiam
Knollys replaced Wotton at the Court of Scotland, and, from the very-
first, had great success. Henry III., informed of the situation, and
fearing that the old alliance between France and Scotland might die out
during his reign, slowly made up his mind to interfere. He sent to Scot-
land, Baron d'Esneval, a gentleman of his chamber, with express orders
to oppose any treaty with England, and another order, less impor-
tant, which bound him to enlighten the King by wise counsels, and
advise him to be lenient towards the English refugees." Claud
Hamilton pledged himself to support him in his enterprise.^ Baron
d'Esneval certainly displayed skill and showed tact in that important
mission, and if he did not gain any signal success, the reason must
be assigned only to the unfortunate circumstances in which he was
placed. The conspirators in power ; the Earl of Arran in flight ;
Montrose, Crawford and their friends, in prison ; the former party
conquered, scattered and ruined ; that great disaster following close
upon the highest power, made the second part of his mission useless.
Here, however, notice that, on the other hand, matters had gone too
far to try openly to break off the alliance in view between the two
insular powers : the French envoy was obliged therefore to be content
with secretly delaying a league which he could not hinder.^
The year 1586 began under an aspect somewhat threatening from
England. Peace imposed upon Scotland ; Flanders kept on the alert,
in spite of the influence of the Duke of Parma ; Ireland humbled ; La
Rochelle relieved ; Denmark and Navarre attached to England by
common interests ; France weakened by the League ; Spain busy de-
fending herself in Portugal against false pretenders, and replanting her
devastated colonies ; the Queen of Scots more closely confined ; her
friends intimidated ; and over and above all, the widely spread system of
spies got up by Walsingham, — forced Europe to be careful not to
wound the feelings of the English government. Elizabeth could say in
looking at her work, "I have conquered Europe, and I defy her efforts."
She owed that prosperity, no doubt, to the skill of her conduct, but
especially to the misunderstandings of her enemies. Had France and
Spain, united by faith, been of one mind, and, instead of defending them-
selves in partial and exhausting struggles, had they attacked England and
1 Instructions given to M. d'Esneval. — Teulet, IV., 1-13.
'^ Various State Papers. — Teulet, IV., 13-34; V., 351.
3 Prince Labanoff, VI., 251, 257, 265, 270 ; VII., 185.
NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND, 1586. 49
helped the Irish CathoHcs, as EHzabeth supported the Protestants on
the Continent, it would have been all over with England. France
would have been at peace on her own soil ; Spain in Flanders and in
her colonies ; Scotland, ruled by her Queen, would have sided with the
Catholics; Ireland would have gained her emancipation ; and England, re-
duced to her feeble resources, would have been totally overthrown, in spite
of the skill of her ministers. Neither Spain nor France did anything of
the kind, and England, making the most of the quarrels in the neighbour-
ing states, was enabled to remain quiet and prosperous in her island home.
Matters did not, however, always go on to the liking of Elizabeth ;
far from it. Mary was to her a source of endless fears. She was a
banner ever raised, around which the malcontents rallied. Outside, her
armies gained only feeble advantages ; but what her government lost
in battles, it regained by the deep shrewdness of its agents. If mis-
fortune came on one side, that side was left in darkness, so as not to
damp the spirits of the people, and imaginary victories were even
occasionally reported. A striking example of that, was seen when
Leicester undertook the expedition to the Low Countries. The illus-
trious favourite achieved no brilliant success there, and in fact defended
himself rather less than became his honour ; he was, nevertheless,
appointed Governor- General of the united provinces, and loudly
cheered. The expedition, however, which he commanded, was so
unfortunate that the ministers devised in London brilliant despatches,
which they presented in his name to Elizabeth.'
The only place, whence England could be attacked with any chance
of success, was Scotland. As long as the island was free from foreign
troops, the English government had nothing to fear. That considera-
tion made it leave no stone unturned to bring about a league between
the two nations, under pretext of the dangers which threatened
the common religion;^ but as James VI. had not exactly the same
views nor the same interests, he received Elizabeth's proposals some-
what coldly. It by no means entered into his plans to support Pro-
testantism, whose ministers he hated. He had often seen himself
forced to banish the most seditious ; but the fury of dogmatising and
criticising, continually revived the same disorders. Not satisfied with
insulting the Earl of Arran, and foreboding for him the fate of Ahab,
and for his wife, that of Jezebel, they often inveighed against the
sovereign himself, and called down on his head the threats formerly
' Lingard's History of England.
" Baron d'Esneval to James VI., March 1586.— Teulet, IV., 25.
VOL. II. G
50 NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND, 1586.
launched against Jeroboam, asserting, in the name of heaven, that he
should die childless, the last of his race.'
Those mad exaggerations of fanaticism, received, at first, with fear
and trembHng, brought, in the end, derision and contempt on the
ministers. Conversions to Catholicism multiplied, while threats and
persecution were used to check the movement. Many rich lords pre-
ferred the loneliness of prison to the shame of apostacy.^ The old
creed, which was thought extinct, burned again throughout all Scotland.
The opposition, with which it had been met, added to its importance,
and gave it new followers. The Catholics no longer hid themselves,
but, proud of their number, thought of regaining, by arms, the liberty of
conscience snatched from them by the Protestants.^ People feared lest
the war of religion, which already ravaged the rest of Europe, should
break out in Scotland with more violence than elsewhere. Had the
King of France given the Scots the help which they asked,'^ instead of
advising an impossible peace, Scotland would have been again an ener-
getic ally, and an obstacle would have been opposed to the invasions
from England. The crafty policy of Catherine de M^dicis disdained
such simple means, and was as useful in ruining Catholicism in Scot-
land as the bitter fierceness of the Protestant lords. The old religion
continued to be persecuted, and Catholic influence obtained the release
of only one man, Lord Maxwell, the new Earl of Morton, who had
been sent to prison for having mass publicly sung in Dumfries.^ Such a
result was equal to a check, for the Protestants again took the offen-
sive, and two months later they flocked from the heart of Scotland to
help their co-religionists on the continent.^ Forsaken by France, who
ought to have supported them in her own interest, the Scots cast their
looks towards Spain, hoping for better support. Contrary to his wont,
Philip II. lavished encouragements, but kept very sluggish. The Duke
de Guise, alone, made some figure in that universal abandonment'
While a silly policy forsook its own resources, and allowed violent
passions to have the upper hand, Elizabeth was quickly gaining her
hidden end : Mary Stuart's ruin. The poor captive was then at
1 Spottiswoode's History, IL, 335. The < Henry III. to Baron d'Esneval, rSth and
Earl of Morton to the King of Spain, 20th 30th April. — Teulet, IV., 38, 39.
May.— Teulet V., 353. ^ Henry III. to Baron d'Esneval.— Teulet,
2 The Archbishop of Glasgow to Mary IV., 41. Prince Labanoff, VII., 189.
Stuart, 2 1 St March 1586. — Prince Labanoff, ' Baron d'Esneval to James VI. — Teulet
VII., 189, 190. IV., 45 sq.
3 Various Spanish State Papers. — Teulet, ' Various State Papers. — Teulet, V., 349-
V., 347, 349, 352 sq. 369.
MARY AT CHARTLEY, 1586. 51
Chartley, in the keeping of the harsh Sir Amyas Paulet, in a miserable
position, bereft of hope and in need of the common comforts of life, and
asking, as a favour, that some servants should be allowed to come to
her from France. " I therefore beg of you affectionately," she wrote to
Walsingham, " as in most things concerning my condition you have
always promised to do me good service, whereof you have till now
honourably acquitted yourself, so on this occasion, befitting alike the
honour of your mistress and my convenience, confirm the debt I owe
you for all the past."' Her health was wretched; she was weak, half
crippled, and often obliged to keep her bed. " That is," she said, " the
inheritance which I have earned during seventeen years of a confinement,
which, I fear may end only with my life," then added with fervour, " I
pray God, however, to grant me the necessary patience for that."^
To make matters worse, an epidemic visited Chartley. Mary's
servants fell ill one after another, and she was grieved to see the place
of her captivity turned into a hospital. A prey to fear, she wrote to
Walsingham, asked him for relief, and told him of the fears of her physi-
cians, and of the danger of her whole household. She waited in vain,
receiving neither answer nor comfort, and was kept till the end in the
midst of the contagion. If the future had not explained, it must have
been a question, for ever, why Elizabeth was so cruel. Mary was
indeed doomed. Solitude reigned around her. Her son, led away by
ambition or ruled by parties, thought of her only at long intervals, and
took more pains to please Elizabeth than to comfort his mother. The
league with England was being actively carried out, notwithstanding
the coldness of the king at first. The day it was signed, there was
general displeasure among the partisans of the old French alliance,
and Mary Stuart was astounded to find that her name was not even
mentioned in a treaty of so much consequence.^ That league was her
death warrant.*
^ Mary Stuart to Walsingham, 2 1 St January inhandis." That shameful letter, written from
1586. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 256. Dunfermline, 8th September 1586, is printed
^ Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissifere, in Murdin's Collection and in Gray's Papers,
31st March 1586. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 268. 107. In another letter, written on the 29th,
^ Various State Papers. — Teulet, IV., 49, the following revolting passage may be read :
55 ; Prince Labanoff, VI., 372 ; Rymer, VI., " For his mother, his command is you do as
iv., 185. he gave your nephew Richard instruction. I
* The Master of Gray wrote to Archibald can asshur you he is content the law go
Douglas : " His (young King's) opinion is that fordvart, her life being save, and would glaidly
it cannot stand with his honour that he be a vische that all foraine Princess should know
consentir to tak his mother's lyf, bot he is con- how evil she had usit hirself towardis the Q.
tent how strictly she be keipit, and all hir auld Majestie thair, and that she resaveis favour
knaifish servantis heingit, chiefly they who be through her clemencie." — Gray's letter to Arch.
52 INTRIGUES OF WALSINGHAM, 1586.
Though free from dread of Scotland, Walsingham conceived and
carried out the most treacherous and shameful plot in history ; he him-
self led the Catholics to conspire against the life of Elizabeth ; he
managed to implicate the Queen of Scots, that he might be able to
massacre, with seeming justice, the royal prisoner and her defenders.
His spies filled the ports, towns and even seminaries. Well paid for
intriguing, they sought only to drive the Catholics to extremities by
hypocritical wailings, to denounce thern afterwards, and, more surely,
bring about their ruin. Their task was in general, not difficult ; for if
some exiles were rather guarded in speech, others soured by their wrongs,
unbosomed themselves, thinking they were among friends. The one of
them who played the most important part, and contributed most to ruin
Mary and her partisans, was Gilbert Gififord, a priest — ^in truth, any-
thing, at the nod of Walsingham. He had ingratiated himself with
Morgan and the other exiles,' feigned great zeal for Mary Stuart,
undertook to hand her their letters, and fetch answers from her, and
that, without danger to anyone. Morgan was the first to fall into the
snare ; he, a fervent Catholic, never fancied that a priest of his own
religion could be guilty of betraying him. Accredited by the same
Morgan, to Mary Stuart, Gifford displayed rare treachery in his mission.
No letter reached his hands, which was not at once handed to Walsing-
ham, deciphered, resealed and sent on.
Thanks to such aid, the letters of the exiles passed, to and fro, more
rapidly. They came,.one after the other, to Chartley, and answers were,
at once, sent back. Gifford then made himself known to Chiteauneuf,
and, so thoroughly deceived him by fine words, offers of service, and
especially by letters of recommendation which he showed, that the
ambassador entrusted to him the many secret papers which his
predecessor, Castelnau, was unable to send off." Those papers were
handed to Walsingham, deciphered by Phelipps, and sent back to Mary
who, unaware that he was a traitor, had blessed him from the depths of
her prison. His vaunted faithfulness, his rank, and his anxiety, that
the despatches should safely reach the Queen, kept her from suspecting
him, and throwing him aside as a spy. He had bribed a neighbouring
brewer, a purveyor to the castle. Every week the brewer brought a
Douglas, 29th September 1 586, in Murdin, and respondence. Cf. Gray's Papers, 1 13, 148, and
in Gray's Papers, 3. It is worthy of remark especially 150.
that Mary Stuart's trial had not yet begun, ' Mendoga to Philip II., 13th August.
when they were busy, in London, trying to Teulet V., 372.
fathom the mind of James VI. The King ^ Various letters. Prince Labanoff, VI.,
probably knew nothing of that miserable cor- 278-337, especially 313, 323, 334, and VII., 177.
BABINGTON, 1586. 53
supply of beer to Chartley, and passed in the despatches in a case
placed in a barrel ; the Queen's butler took out the case, and a week
after, the brewer came for his casks, and took away the answers.
Both Walsingham and Paulet, having an understanding with the false
emissary, winked at that unfair course.
A success so unhoped for, and yet so complete, encouraged the
Catholics, and made them more daring. At that time, another emissary
went through England, examined the country, enquired about the
resources of the soil, the minds of the inhabitants and their dispositions,
and paved the way for a great invasion. He usually wore the brilliant
dress of an officer, took the name of Fortescue, although he was a
priest named Ballard, and no one would ever have suspected his
mission, had he not unbosomed himself to his friend, who was at the
same time a spy, in the pay of Walsingham.'
Intrigue and treason had gone thus far, when Gifford, joining his
counsels to the already vehement ardour of the Catholics, gave to the
conspiracy, by advising the assassination of Elizabeth, an impetus
which became fatal to it.^ That idea, already broached by the Duke de
Guise, gave fresh courage. An officer, just returned from the wars in
Flanders, thought well of the rash scheme, and soon got six other
gentlemen, equally bold, to take part in it. The most famous of them
all is celebrated in history, as he gave his name to the conspiracy ; he
was called Babington, a young man of noble birth, and one who deserved
a better fate. With the enthusiasm of youth, Babington rushed head-
long into the path of conspiracy. He often assembled his friends,
dined with them, and rejoiced and gloried beforehand in being Eliza-
beth's conqueror. Letters which he believed he held direct from the
Queen of Scots, inflamed his imagination : he had a picture painted of
himself and his companions, taking as legend what, without any other
document, must have ruined them : hi mihi sunt comites quos ipsa
pericula ducunt. Gifford let Walsingham know of those secret dealings
in England, while Maude, Informed of the plans of Morgan and Lord
Paget on the continent, followed on his side, a similar line of conduct.
When Babington, a few days later (i6th July) drew nearer to
Chartley, the more quickly to interchange letters with the captive,
Gifford's mission became needless. Walsingham found only one way of
thwarting the plans of the conspirators, and that was by sending
1 Relacion de las Provincias de Inglaterra y Liasse B. 57, No. 69, and Teulet ; Udall's
Estado de ellas, Archives de TEmpire.— History, 330.
^ Dargaud, Histoire de Marie Stuart, 378.
54 BABINGTON, 1586.
Gregory and Phelipps to Chartley, and getting them to decipher on the
spot, the forged correspondence. Phelipps' arrival made Mary uneasy :
he was received with honour, magnificently treated, and seemed to act
in perfect freedom at Chartley. The captive, however, soon recovered
her peace of mind, thinking that he was sent, perhaps, to take the place
of Sir Amyas Paulet, whose health was much shaken. She, neverthe-
less, wrote about it to Morgan, and gave him the description of that
individual, so as to learn if he was the same Phelipps who had formerly
been recommended to her.' That seeker out of intrigues did not gain
much ; but he made up for it by cunning, and was enabled to write to
Walsingham (24th July). " We attend her very heart in the next."°
Intrigue had had its day, and Babington was not so blinded by zeal
as not to notice that his secret was disclosed ; by whom, he knew not,
but he kept reserved, drew near to Walsingham, offered his services to
the minister as a spy on the continent, and succeeded in getting a pass-
port for the priest Ballard. Walsingham played with the false spy as
he had done with the real conspirator. Ballard was arrested before sail-
ing, and imprisoned as a Catholic priest. That discovery blighted the
hopes which Babington might still have of escaping ; he was astounded,
yet he had strength enough left, to go and ask his pardon from
Walsingham, and intercede in favour of the priest, though he well
knew that Ballard had been arrested — not as a priest, but as a con-
spirator. Walsingham 's answer was a refusal. Then hope died, and
an unspeakable sadness took hold of the young conspirator : he began to
see, with growing fright, the abyss of his own making, yawning at his
feet: Walsingham knew all his plans, while Elizabeth, too, was aware of
them, and what he had thought hidden under a thick veil, had come to
light. His plans were known : they had been revealed by traitors.
When he found out that he had been fooled by low spies, his pride
again gained strength, and heedless of danger, he wrote the most bitter
letter ever penned, to Pooley, who had betrayed him. He upheld
his own doings, but poured out on the head of that wretch, a torrent
of abuse, which seemed already to mark him for the lower world.^
The arrest and imprisonment of Ballard reminded Babington that
he must flee, while it spread terror among his companions. Closely
watched by Walsingham's spies, he could no longer go about freely :
he was a prisoner in the capital. He chose a dark night to make his
- Mary Stuart to Thomas Morgan, 17th ^ Phelipps to Walsingham, July 14th.—
July. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 421 sq. Tytler's History, IV., 124.
' The letter is printed in Lingard's App.
BABINGTON, 1586. 55
escape, and for a long time wandered about in St John's Wood, where
he was met by Gage, Charnock, Donne and Barnewell. He had
baffled the poHce hounds ; they went to the minister, and told him how
the conspirators had slipped away. Walsingham, not less anxious, but
more irritated, made known the names of the conspirators, and forbade
any ship in the harbour to put to sea without first giving him notice.
No one in England had yet heard of the conspiracy, so Walsing-
ham's proclamation startled the nation. Anxiety was boundless ; rumours
were afloat that the capital was about to be burnt, the Queen assassinated,
and England invaded ;' that the Papists were masters of the situation,
and that French and Spanish troops were on their way. As usually
happens in such circumstances, people were found who gave all the
details, named the lords engaged, the provinces roused by Romish
fanaticism, and said that Gregory XIII. had promised, beforehand,
absolution to him who should kill Elizabeth ;'' all shed tears over so
deplorable an event, and -were in a state of great uneasiness. Some sails,
sighted off the Isle of Wight, increased the fears two-fold ; there was
now no mistake about it ; the great Catholic fleet was making for
London. Signals of alarm were sounded ; the peasants rose and sought
a chief to lead them ; the dreadful news spread through the length and
breadth of England with lightning speed, and called forth powerful echoes
in the northern provinces. ^ Ch^teauneuf was insulted, and the Catholics,
dismayed by tumult and threats, turned all their thoughts to flight.*
Those false reports, while gathering the people in large crowds in
the public squares, left the fugitives comparative freedom in the wood
whither they had retired ; but hunger forced them to leave their
shelter. They gained Harrow by night, and were fortunate enough
to find a family kind and well disposed towards them ; but they were
seized in an outbuilding over against the garden, and led to London in
safety. Their arrival caused as much joy as their project had caused
alarm. The peasants followed them singing psalms : on all sides
bonfires burned and bells rang, as on great solemnities, telling England
that she might at last breathe freely.'
' Amauld to Courcelles, 26th August, State Teulet, V,, 395 ; M. Chdruel, Marie Stuart et
Paper Office, Mary, Queen of Scots ; God- Catherine de Mddicis, 380, 381.
frey Goodman, the Court of King James, I., * Mdmoire du Baron d'Esneval. — ^Teulet,
131. IV., 56, 57. About thirty were shut up in the
2 A. Tyrell's Confession to Lord Burghley. Tower. — Amauld to Courcelles, 26th August.
State Paper Office, Mary, Queen of Scots. — State Paper Office.
^ Mendoga to Philip II., 26th September. — ^ Camden, III., 441 ; Various State Papers.
—Teulet, v., 389 sq.
S6 MARY STUART REMOVED FROM CHARTLEY, 1586.
Mary, locked up in the castle, under the rigid keeping of Paulet,
was ignorant of all those events, and if there was a change in the
manner of her keepers, it was only an increase of severity. Paulet,
throwing aside all respect for her rank, treated her as neither a Queen
nor a free person, but as a strict prisoner. "He is," the Queen of
Scots said of him, " one of the most strange and sullen men that I have
ever seen, and, in a word, more fitted for a gaoler of criminals than
for the keeping of one of my rank and quality. I am at present held in
gaol rather than in princely captivity, in truth, in a way too severe for
me, and worse than any I might by right of war or otherwise expect."'
She attributed the excessive severity, to Paulet's attachment to the
Puritan sect.^ " For the rest," she said, in speaking of the same
Paulet, " I esteem him a very honest gentleman, and a very faithful
servant of his mistress."^
That unaccountable severity was torture to her ; she looked into the
future, only with gloomy forebodings ; it seemed to her that her life
was linked with that of Elizabeth, and that the death of the Queen of
England would be the knell for hers too^ " If anything happened to
the Queen of England," she wrote to Chateauneuf, " I should deem my
life very unsafe in the hands of my host."* In that life of sorrow and
anguish, Mary always fell back upon Elizabeth, and wished to live at
peace with her. " I hoped," she said, " that I might have the satisfac-
tion to spend the short time I have yet to live in the intimacy which I
have always sought to create between her and me. But, alas ! I much
fear that we are so widely severed already that we cannot again be on
the same friendly terms, however much I may strive to do good for
evil ; and I dare say, truly, that my enemies are not yet satisfied either
with my great sufferings or with my long imprisonment, during which I
have never had any rest for mind or body."^
Early on the morning of the 1 8th of August, Mary received a visit from
her keeper, Paulet, who invited her to be one of a hunting party in the
neighbourhood. Mary accepted the invitation with pleasure, set out from
Chartley accompanied by Nau and Curie, her secretaries, and some other
persons, for she was glad to have at last a day of freedom. At a short dis-
tance from the castle she met Thomas Georges, an envoy of Walsingham,
^ MaryStuarttoM.de Chateauneuf, July 1 586. ^ Mary Stuart to CMteauneuf. — Prince La-
— Prince Labanoff, VI., 370, 376. banoff, VI., 376.
2 Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glas- - Mary Stuart to Chiteauneuf, 13th July. —
gow, l5th July. — Prince Labanoff, VI., Prince Labanoff, VI., 370.
381. ■''Mary Stuart to Chateauneuf, July 1586. —
Prince Labanoff, VI., 379.
MARY'S RETURN TO CHARTLEY, 1586. 57
who, without further preliminaries, told her that Babington's conspiracy
was discovered, and that, in consequence, he had orders to take her at
once to Tixall, and, that deeds might be stronger proofs of the truth of
that than words, he arrested her two secretaries, who were led to
London.' Mary, enraged at so great an insult, called on those around
to defend her, but, feeling herself powerless, she allowed herself to be
taken to Tixall;'' there, in obedience to Elizabeth's orders, she was
shut up in a small room, without pen or paper, and saw around her
only strange faces : her servants had been removed, and she was all
at once put among strangers, whose heartless air seemed to hide some
mystery. It was a terrible blow for her. The thought of the con-
spiracy, and the removal of her servants — thrown into prison, perhaps,
on her account — made her stay unbearable.
While she bewailed her fate, Thomas Waad, of the Privy Council,
was busy ransacking her room at Chartley. The closets and trunks
were forced open, and her papers and jewels seized : everything was
taken from her.^
After that base robbery, it was thought meet to bring Mary back to
her former residence. When she left Tixall, the poor, who followed her
in numbers, invoking her as if she was a deity, made their way through
her escort, to ask alms. "Alas!" exclaimed Mary, weeping, "I have
nothing for you : all has been taken from me ; I am as much a beggar
as yourselves." Just as she got into her carriage she noticed Sir Walter
Aston, owner of the castle, and several other gentlemen who were to
form part of her escort : " Good gentlemen," said she to them, " I am
innocent. God is my witness that I have never practised against the
Queen my sister's life." *
When she reached Chartley, she would not take the keys, and
asked one of those who were with her to open her closet. When she
saw what had been done, she remembered she was a Queen, and
instead of reproaching Paulet, merely said to him with dignity, " There
are yet two things, sir, which cannot be taken from me : my blood,
which gives me the right of accession to the throne of England ; and
the other is my religion." ^
1 Mendoga to Philip II., loth September. — * Letters of Sir Amyas Paulet, quoted in
Teulet, v., 391. Miss Strickland, V., 411. Tytler, IV., 132.
''Miss Strickland's Life of Queen Mary, V., Chalmers, II., 160.
408. ^ Paulet to Walsingham, 27th August ;
^ Mdmoire du Baron d'Esneval, Teulet, Chalmers, II., 160, and at the State Paper
IV., 57. Mendoga to Philip II., 26th Sept. ; Office,
idem, V., 395. Prince Labanoff, VI., 437.
VOL. II. • H
S8 LETTER OF ELIZABETH TO PAULET, 1586.
In Spite of his care and diligence, Waad had left, untouched, in the
Queen's room, a small cabinet of drawers. That oversight did not
escape her keeper. Sure that Mary Stuart's money was kept there,
Sir Amyas wrote in all haste to Walsingham, asking him what he ought
to do. He was told to open the cabinet and take the money, which, in
his opinion, could be of service to enrich traitors only. To gain that
point, he sought the help of one Richard Bagot, a magistrate in the
neighbourhood, and they, heedless of the sickly state of the prisoner,
ordered her to open the cabinet. " After many denyalls," wrote Paulet
to Walsingham, " manye exclamacions, and manye bitter woords against
you (I say nothing of her rayling against my self), with flat affirmacion
that her Ma*? might have her bodye but her hart she should never
have, refusing to delyver the kaye of her cabinet, I called my servants,
and sent for barres to breake open the dore, whereupon she yelded, and
caused the dore to be opened."' Paulet seized the money which Mary
kept so carefully in reserve, and would give her back, only as much as
was needed to pay her servants' arrears of wages. He then, with bar-
barous rigour, sent away the Queen's household, thinking he was doing
his duty, and leaving to others the task to " excuse their foolishe pitye
as they may." He said, with a satisfaction which I cannot easily under-
stand, " I thanke God with all my hart, as for a singular blessing, that
yt falleth out so well, fearing least a contrarye successe might have
moved some hard conceipts in her Majestie."^
Mary Stuart was doomed ;3 there was hesitation now only as to the
way of getting rid of her. Leicester insisted that the best way was by
poison, and noiselessly ; others held an opposite view, and wished a
public trial and execution.* Elizabeth meanwhile wrote to Paulet a
letter, which the discreet gaoler has kept for us as his defence in case
of need. " My Amyas, my faithful servant," said she, " may God
reward you for doing so well the hard task set you ! If you knew, my
dear Amyas, how grateful I am to you for the trouble taken by you,
and for your firm and loyal conduct, your heart would be glad ;
no treasure, in my opinion, can pay for such fidelity. Yes, I should
deserve to be forsaken when I most need help were I not to acknow-
ledge your services by a reward non omnibus datum." ^
^ Paulet to Walsingham, loth Sept. ; Ellis, en Escocia y Inglaterra, 133 sq. Blackwood,
L, iii., 7- CEuvres Completes, 656, 657.
» Paulet to Walsingham ; Ellis, I., iii., 9. * Spottiswoode, II., 349 ; Chalmers, II., 161.
' It had been agreed upon even before the ^ Elizabeth to Paulet; Strype, III., 361.
conspiracy. Herrera, Historia de lo Succedido Tytler's Inquiry. Lingard's History.
A BAPTISM, 1586. 59
That letter, of which I give only an abridgement, for I loathe to
transcribe it, was dictated by the blackest perfidy. Elizabeth, by her
fine words, wished to inflame the zeal of Mary Stuart's keeper, and
drive him to go further, perhaps, all the while, intending to punish him
later on, as she did Davison, to shield her own name. The strict
Puritan, more jealous of his honour than of Elizabeth's favours,
preserved the letters, and did not act against his conscience.
What a noble contrast ! When Elizabeth encouraged Paulet to be
in every way unmerciful to Mary, the latter, forgetting her position and
her fearful sorrows, worked out her own salvation, and bestowed on
the wife of her secretary. Curie, the most heart-stirring attentions.
The poor secretary was a prisoner in London, and his wife bore him a
daughter in the sad emergency. Unable to get leave to have the child
baptised by a Catholic priest, Mary herself did for the mother the pious
service of baptising her daughter. She had a basin brought her, and
sprmkling the regenerating water over the head of the tiny babe, gave
it, with the sacrament of baptism, her own name.
Paulet, abashed, knew not whether he ought to admire more the
condescension or the religion of the heroic Queen.'
' Paulet to Walsingham, 27th August ; State Paper Office, Mary Queen of Scots, XIX.
CHAPTER XXIII.
1586.
A GLANCE INTO THE BABINGTON CONSPIRACY — THE PART TAKEN IN IT BY MARY — INFAMOUS
CONDUCT OF WALSINGHAM — PUNISHMENT OF THE CONSPIRATORS — CONFESSIONS OF
CURLE AND NAU— LETTER FROM MARY TO THE DUKE DE GUISE — HER REMOVAL TO
FOTHERINGAY — COMMISSION OF THE THIRTY-SIX — LETTER FROM ELIZABETH TO MARY
— MARY'S PROTESTATION — SHE SUBMITS TO THE COMMISSION — NOBLE DEFENCE OF
MARY STUART — REPROACHES ADDRESSED TO WALSINGHAM — ADJOURNMENT OF THE
COMMISSION — DEFENCE OF NAU — MARY SENTENCED TO DEATH.
'T^HE Babington conspiracy, which made so great a noise and tiad
-*- such painful consequences, must not be talked of lightly. The
manner in which that unhappy affair was managed must be well
pondered. Walsingham showed therein a craft hard to conceive : he
made use of Catholic conspirators to accuse and ruin Catholic Mary.
His task was easy ; for it was quite natural that a Queen, held, against
all right, a captive for many long years, should give way to hope and
encourage those who might try to release her. She was fully justified
in so acting ; to remain idle in so undeserved a position was to
degrade herself, and be wanting in character, if not in honour. Mary
felt that thoroughly, and, during her sad captivity, she kept on pro-
testing, at the risk of bringing down upon herself all Elizabeth's fury.
The conspiracy had already been fairly started ; Pooley, Lumley,
Blunt, Ballard and Babington were all at work, each trying to carry it
out,' while Mary did not even suspect its existence ; as, for a long time
past, she had had no news from the Continent.^ When she learned
that something was being plotted in her favour, she assisted as far
as was within her power, and as far as prudence allowed her. She
hoped that a Spanish army would come to avenge in England the
damages which Drake was doing the colonies of Spain, and, in short,
that, thanks to that invasion, she should be set free after eighteen years'
1 Various papers. — Prince LabanofF, VI., Scots, and quite unknown to her.— Cf. Sadler's
320, 32s, 329, 344. It was not the first time Papers, II., 347.
that people acted in favour of the Queen of " Various Papers.— Prince Labanoff, VI.,
313, 323, 326, 331, 334, 349, 351, 356, 359.
MARY'S PART IN THE BABINGTON CONSPIRACY, 1586. 61
imprisonment : all her projects, all her thoughts were centred on that
goal.'
The sight of the calamities which she ever had before her eyes
made her wish for a change of position : " Yet," said she, " since it is
God's will that I should still suffer, I am ready to give in, and stretch
my neck under the yoke and, in my conscience, I do not so much
regret this delay for myself as for the misery and affliction in which I
have seen and daily see so many good people of this kingdom, for I
feel the public calamity more than mine own." ^ Notwithstanding that
angelic resignation, Mary could not forego the thought of regaining her
freedom ; she liked to dwell on it, and to reckon her chances and
means of success. She spoke of it to Babington,^ Francis Englefield,''
the Archbishop of Glasgow ^ and Don Bernard de Mendoqa.^ In her
letter to Babington, she advised those who were to save her, to carry
her off when, on a given day, she should be taking a walk between
Chartley and Stafford, or to come during the night, and set fire to the
barns and stables adjoining the castle, and take advantage of the
disorder to open the gates for her, or, in short, to accompany the
carts which brought the provisions in the morning, upset them at the
entrance to the outer door, seize the castle, and release her by surprise.'
There the prisoner's wishes and hopes stopped. The idea of assas-
sinating Elizabeth never could have been formed in her mind. In her
correspondence she professes the deepest respect for crowned heads,^
great frankness in her relations, ' the desire to live on good terms with
Elizabeth,'" and a most scrupulous care for her reputation. According to
Spanish documents she, on one occasion, refused even to flee, when she
might easily have done so, and her life was in danger," rather than
forfeit her honour.'^ Unfortunately, that noble-minded Princess, all her
^ Various letters of Mary. — Prince Labanoff, 294. The same to the same, 5th January 1585,
VI., 313, 407, 431. idem, VI., 78.
^ Mary Stuart to Mendoga, 2d July. — Prince " Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, 5th Sept. 1579.
Labanoff, VI., 353. — Prince Labanoff, V., 104. The same to
3 Prince Labanoff, VI., 391 sq. James ^'I., i6th April 1582, idem, V., 294.
■* Idem, VI., 409. Mary Stuart to Castelnau de Mauvissiere, 28th
= Idem, VI., 414. January 1584, idem, V., 416 sq. — M6noire de
^ Idem, VI., 434. Nau, idem, VII., 200, 204; Corresp. diplom.,
' Mary Stuart to Babington, 17th July. — II., 349.
Prince Labanoff, VI., 393, 394. " M^moire de Nau. — Prince Labanoff, VII.,
8 Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow 203.
and the Cardinal de Lorraine, 9th January ■'■'' Vargas Mexia to Philip II., 13th February
1575.— Prince Labanoff, IV., 252, 253. 1580. — Teulet, V., 206. Cf Mdmoire de Nau.
9 Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow, — Prince Labanoff, VII., 205.
20th February 1576. — Prince Labanoff, IV.,
62 INFAMOUS CONDUCT OF WALSINGHAM, 1586.
life, was treated by the English Government only with guile and double-
dealing. Her intentions were misinterpreted ; even her most harmless
doings were criticised and looked upon as criminal. The principal
author of the disorder was Walsingham whose " turbulent imagina-
tions "' Mary dreaded. Ambitious, cunning, heartless and a liar, he him-
self, alone, ruined more innocent persons than the whole of Elizabeth's
Privy Council. It was he who overwhelmed the Earls of Arundel and
Northumberland, destroyed the Howard family, covered the sea and
the continent with English exiles, and spread over all Europe a leprous
spying ; he, again, who encouraged, led on and ruined Babington.
For a long time past he wished to rid his Queen of the troublesome
Scottish captive, but his efforts had been fruitless, for Mary observed
extreme discretion. True it is that in the Babington conspiracy she
had worked against England in the interest of her freedom ; but she
had not so compromised herself as to deserve death. She endeavoured
to gain by force that freedom which she was unjustly refused, and which
had been cruelly denied : none could blame or condemn her.
Walsingham, at his wits' end, undertook to use against Mary, the
deceitful means which he had formerly used in favour of Leicester, and
to get from the great Bodies of the State, by laying before them the
forged correspondence of the conspirators, a sentence which Elizabeth
was afraid to give. The letter written by Mary to Babington (17th
July, old style) procured him the chance.
Walsingham, in the first place, added to it a postscript in the
Queen's cypher, asking the names of the six gentlemen, and the way in
which they meant to carry out the business ; ^ then he forged in the
body of the letter a paragraph on the assassination of Elizabeth, and
sent it, ten days later, to Babington.^ He, led astray by that letter
which he thought he held straight from the Queen, grew bolder, and
soon knew no bounds. Walsingham had cleverly carried out his
purpose, for the plot, hatched by himself, had become great enough and
clear enough to ruin its authors and the Queen, in whose favour it had
been got up, and the crafty minister wanted nothing more. The accused
were tried and condemned. On his examination, Babington, who had
' Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow, sowed the seeds of division in a very secret
31st August 1577. — Prince Labanoff, IV., 383. manner." — Elizabeth and her Favourites, 59.
" He, as well as Stafford, his predecessor, * Prince Labanoff, VI., 395 ; Camden, III.,
might be compared," says Naunton in his 439.
Portraits, "to the Enemy of the Gospel who ^ Prince Labanoff, VI., 397. See Disserta-
sowed tares during the night, for they both tion III. at the end of the work.
PUNISHMENT OF THE CONSPIRATORS, 1586. 63
no Idea of the fraud which Walsingham had guiltily effected, spoke
to the authenticity of Mary's .letters.
Their deaths were sad to behold. The priest Ballard, as chief
author of the conspiracy was put to death first : " Courage ! " said he to
his companions, while on his way to the gallows, " since we are
Catholics, let us die as Catholics." ' He was seized and hanged. He
was taken down half dead, and his entrails were torn out and held up
before his face. Then came Babington's turn ; he was bold and noble
as he watched the torture and death of Ballard, as if to nerve himself to
suffer more coolly. As they tore out his heart, he could not contain
these words: "Lord Jesus! be merciful to me!" Savage was so
violently shaken that the rope broke, and he fell to the ground ; he
was there embowelled, and felt keenly his agony. Tichborne drew
forth real pity. " Before this hapless affair," said he, " Babington and I
lived in the most brilliant position. Who were the talk of the Strand,
Fleet Street, and every nook and corner in London, if not Babington
and Tichborne ? We found no doors closed upon us. We wanted
nothing, and God knows how little State affairs took hold of our
minds. I had always thought it impious to meddle with them, and
refused to do so. In deference to my friend, I held my tongue and
consented. . . . My dear fellow-countrymen, my sorrow to-day makes
your joy. Ah ! do mingle some tears with your smiles and have pity
on my sad state. I am of a house which never, since two hundred
years before the Conquest, stooped to dishonour. I have a wife and
child. Agnes, my wife, my dear wife ; how sad it is to part from you !
I have besides six sisters who depend on me, and my poor, servants
have, I know, been sent far and wide, after my arrest : all that rends
my heart." "" He shared those regrets with Jones, who was reserved for
the morrow. " My sad fate made me," said the latter before his judges,
" either betray a friend whom I loved as I love myself, or break my
allegiance, and rviin myself and my posterity. I have wished to be
counted among the faithful friends, and I die as a traitor. Thomas
Salisbury's friendship has been fatal to me, and yet I am not a framer
of treason." Barnwell breathed his last on the same day with
Christian fortitude ; Abington, on the contrary, yelled out curses, and
defied the fury of the executioners.
' Mendoga to Philip II., 20th October. — the eve of his death, are inserted in Thom-
Teulet, v., 414. merel's Collection, 4-8. I know nothing
' The last words of the unhappy youth, more sorrowful or more loving in any Ian-
together with the letter he wrote to his wife on guage.
64 CONFESSIONS OF CURLE AND NAU, 1586.
The several executions were got through with such cruelty, that the
mob loudly gave vent to its displeasure, and withdrew disgusted and
horror-stricken. The Queen, therefore, who had settled beforehand
those barbarities, was obliged to lessen the tortures of the morrow
(30th September and ist October). Thanks to that, the rest of the
conspirators died a less painful death."
Notwithstanding the precautions and uneasiness which preceded that
barbarous revenge, the English cabinet had not forgotten Mary's two
secretaries, and now sought from them confessions which should impli-
cate their mistress. But, contrary to expectations, the secretaries
seemed struck with dumbness ; they told what they knew of Mary's
secret dealings in regard to the invasion, but nothing could be got from
them about the project of assassinating Elizabeth. Phelipps, who had
forged the letter, in vain searched among Mary's papers for an auto-
graph note or sentence which might support the charge. Walsingham
was in despair : " I would to God," wrote he, "that these minutes could
be found!"'' That Walsingham should be puzzled, grieved his col-
leagues ; so Burghley lent him a helping hand. Suspecting that fear
hindered the secretaries from speaking, he wrote this revolting letter to
Sir Charles Hatton : "Assure them of their safety and then we shall
have the whole truth from them. Surely then they will yield in writing
somewhat to confirm their mistress's crime, if they were persuaded
that themselves might scape, and the blow fall upon their mistress,
betwixt her head and her shoulders." ^
The secretaries, having before them, on the one hand, only the
frightful prospect of the Tower and tortures if they persisted in their
silence, and on the other, the certainty of being restored to freedom by
more or less formal confessions, declared what they knew of the con-
spiracy, at the risk of compromising the ill-fated Queen who had
employed them. But the confessions wrung from them through fear
were not quite in accordance with what the ministers wanted. Thus
Nau, when threatened, admitted that his mistress knew of what was
going on against Elizabeth, though she took no part in it, and owned
the conspiracy only in so far as, through it, she hoped to be set free :
an absolute denial to the letter to Babington.*
The day after Ballard and Babington were so cruelly put to death,
1 Howell, I., 1 1 27 sq. ; Hardwicke's Miscel- " Burghley to Sir Charles Hatton, 4th Sept.
laneous State Papers, I., 225 sq. ; Camden, 443. — Tytler, IV., 133 ; Lingard's History.
2 Walsingham to Phelipps, Sept. 3.— Tytler, ' Tytler's History, IV., 134.
IV., 133-
MARY WRITES TO THE DUKE DE GUISE, 1586. 65
the secretaries were again brought before the ministers ; the latter
hoping that so terrible an example would make the accused more tract-
able. They were asked to attest the letters to Babington. Instead of
again placing before them the letter of the 1 7th of July, which they had
already acknowledged in a vague manner,' only an extract of the prin-
cipal points was handed to them. The secretaries, if we can believe
the sole testimony of Phelipps in such a matter, acknowledged the sub-
stance of the letter; but the document contains so important an error of
fact that it is very doubtful if it ought to be accepted.''
Those confessions brought Walsingham out of a very awkward
difficulty, for, one month before, he had assured the French ambassador
that Nau had confessed more than was needed to prove the guilt
of the Queen, although nothing as yet was proved. Hatton had said
the same,3 and if the secretaries had kept dumb, those lying statements
must certainly have much puzzled the ministers.
At that time Mary wrote to the Duke de Guise : " My good Cousin,
if God do not help you to find means of aiding your poor Cousin, it is
all over this time. The bearer will tell you how they treat me and my
two secretaries. For God's sake help and save them if you can. We
are accused of having wished to disturb the State, and of having practised
against the life of the Queen, or consented to it ; but I have asserted
what is true, that I know nothing of it. It is said that some letters
have been seized in the possession of one Babington, one Charles Paget
and his brother, which testify to the conspiracy, and that Nau and Curie
have confessed it. I maintain that they could not do so, unless more
than they know was forced out of them by means of tortures." ■•
On the 5th of October (new style), Mary was taken from Chartley to
Fotheringay, and the same evening Elizabeth appointed a commission
to try her. Wavering was at an end, the mask was now torn off, and the
tragedy was drawing to a close. Mary was to be tried and convicted by
the act passed_ during the year before. The commissioners reached the
Castle on the 21st of October, with an escort of two thousand men, sent
to stop any movement in favour of Mary. The next day the prisoner-
Queen received a visit from Paulet, Sir Walter Mildmay (a member of
the Privy Council), and Barker, the Notary, who handed her a letter from
1 The letters to Babington were presented ^ See Dissertation HI.
to them on the 5th and 6th September. They ^ Francis Egerton, 76 sq.
immediately said they remembered the two * Mary Stuart to the Duke de Guise. —
first ; as for the third, they merely said they Prince Labanoff, VI., 438, 439 ; Blackwood,
thought the letter was such or similar, as far 664.
as they could remember. — Prince Labanoff.
VOL. II. I
66 LETTER FROM ELIZABETH TO MARY, 1586.
Elizabeth. That letter was a long address in the form of an indict-
ment : Elizabeth reproached her with her evil doings, accused her of
conspiracy, and ordered her to answer before the commissioners the
charges against her, giving her up to the justice of the laws under the
protection of which she had lived since her coming to England. Mary-
read the letter with a calm countenance : " I am much grieved," said
she, " that the Queen, my good sister, should think so ill of me as to
reject the many reasonable offers made by me and my friends for my
freedom. I am her nearest kinswoman. I have often myself warned
her of the dangers to which she was exposed, and I have not been
believed." Then broaching the subject of Elizabeth's letter, " They
assume a right to command as a master," said she, " and they imagine
perhaps that I am to obey as a slave. What then ! Does your mistress
forget that I was born a Queen ? Does she think that I shall degrade
my rank, my position, the blood which flows in my veins, the son who
succeeds me, and the Kings and foreign Princes whose rights would be
wronged in my person, even by obeying such a letter ? Never. Crushed
though I seem, I have a heart noble and brave, and I will not disgrace
myself Let your Queen stand by what I have said to Bromley and
Delaware. I know nothing of your laws or statutes ; I have no
Counsel ; I know not who are the competent peers ; my papers have
been taken from me ; and no one would dare to say a word in my
favour, innocent though I am. I have not plotted against your mis-
tress ; show me my writings and quote my words, if you wish to convict
me. You can never do it. I confess, however, that I have placed
myself under the protection of foreign Princes, cast aside as I was by
your mistress.!' '
The firmness which Mary showed in the defence of her rights, was
also to be seen when she had to defend her religion. Paulet, joining
his efforts to Elizabeth's, so as to intimidate the captive, went so far as
to advise her to think of her soul : " My soul belongs to God," answered
Mary : " He has shielded me till now. He will dispose of me accord-
ing to His will. I will gladly make to Him the sacrifice of my Hfe for
the good of the Catholic faith." "
The next day, the account of the previous day's visit was read to
the captive. Mary said it was fair : " it is well," said she, " only your
Queen has written to me as to a subject, placing me at the mercy of
1 Howell's Trials, I., 1169. Queen Mary's ^ Mendoga to Philip II., 8th November,
first answer. — Prince Labanoff, VII., 37, 38 ; Teulet, V., 422.
Camden, III., 449.
LETTER FROM ELIZABETH TO MARY, 1586. 67
the English laws : tell her that, under the protection of the same laws,
I came into England, and that, in spite of them, I have been cast into
this prison, where I still groan." '
At twelve o'clock, jurisconsults of the civil and religious law went to
the prisoner ; but neither reasoning, sophism, nor the threat of prosecu-
tion for contumacy could humble her pride. " From whom," asked she,
" do the commissioners hold their warrant ? From the Queen ? That
Queen is my equal, not my superior : give me Kings as judges, and I
appear before them. Better a thousand times to meet the King of
Terrors, than live entombed within those walls," added she. " Welcome
death, rather than the shame of standing as a criminal at the bar of an
English court of justice."''
Far from being bewildered, Mary puzzled the jurisconsults. In the
middle of the debate, addressing the Lord Chancellor Bromley, who
spoke of Queen Elizabeth's protection, she said, " I came into England
to request assistance, and I was instantly imprisoned. Is that
protection ? " " Madam," muttered Bromley, unable to answer the
question, " the meaning of our royal mistress is plain ; it is not the part
of us subjects to interpret it." ^
Elizabeth, informed of what was going on, trembled with rage at the
thought that a prisoner dared to contend with her, and wrote a cruel note
to the captive. " You have again and again tried to take my life, and
ruin my kingdom by bloodshed. I have never been hard upon you ;
far from it ; I loved you and defended you as my second self ; your
treason shall be proved, and clearly too, in the very place where you
now are. Consequently, our good pleasure is that you answer the
nobles and barons of my kingdom as you would me, were I present ;
I therefore enjoin you, charge you, and command you to answer
them. I know your arrogance, but be candid, and you shall be treated
with more favour." "*
That letter would probably have hardened Mary, without humbling
her, had not Hatton brought round the Queen of Scots by gentleness :
" Madam," said he to her, with a certain affected tenderness, " you are
accused, but not convicted. You are a Queen, it is true, but royal
dignity is not freed from answering the charge of such a crime ; the
civil and ecclesiastical laws, the right of peoples and natural right make
it a duty, else justice must die. If you are innocent, in shrinking from
^ Queen Mary's second answer. — Prince ' Camden, III., 451 ; Tytler, IV., 136.
Labanoff, VII., 39 ; Camden, III., 450. ' Egerton, 86.
2 Egerton's Life, 86; Camden, III., 452.
68 MARY SUBMITS TO THE COMMISSION, 1586.
judgment, you wrong your reputation : Queen Elizabeth believes she
has a right to think you guilty, though she regrets it. The com-
missioners who are men of honour, prudence and equity, will rejoice to
find you innocent ; the Queen herself will be all the more glad, as she
has been much grieved at such a charge being brought against you.
Cast aside, then, the vain privilege of royal dignity which cannot serve
you ; appear at court, plead your innocence, and do not, by shunning a
trial now necessary, strengthen suspicion, and for ever sully your
reputation." ' " I do not refuse," answered Mary, " to defend myself in
open Parliament, before the Privy Council or the Queen, if my rights
to the throne, and my close relationship to her, be recognised ; but I
certainly will not submit to the judgment of enemies who will condemn
me, come what may, without allowing me to defend myself." " Whether
you will or not," Burghley hastened to add, " we shall proceed against
you to-morrow, and if you do not come forward, you shall be condemned
in default ; to warn you of it is carrying respect to excess." " Well,"
replied Mary, " search your conscience, think of your honour, and may
God make you and your children answer for the sentence which you
shall pronounce upon me." ^
They then parted, Burghley believing that the Queen of Scots
would never consent to be tried by a tribunal so constituted. Mary
passed the whole night in great agitation. Hatton's words made her
reflect. If she were silent, as her dignity seemed to require, might not
her reserve be taken for a tacit confession of her guilt. Elizabeth's
last words, " Act with candour, and you shall be treated with more
favour," were perhaps added to the end of the highly offensive letter, to
point out the course she ought to follow. Those considerations and
Burghley 's threat to proceed and condemn her without hearing her, led
Mary to accept the commission. The excessive care which she took of
her reputation made her forget danger, and commit an error of judgment
which turned out even fatal to her.
On the llth of October, early in the morning, she sent for some of
the delegates, and told them that, after thinking over Vice-Chancellor
Hatton's words, she had resolved to present herself before the com-
mission, on condition, however, that her protest should be registered
and approved. They refused to approve it, but Burghley promised to
register it, and Mary, after a moment's hesitation, accepted Burghley 's
offer, the sole object in view being to make known her innocence.
1 Camden, III., 452. answer. III. Prince Labanoff, VIZ., 42 sq ;
'' Howell's State Trials. Queen Mary's Camden, II., 453.
THE COMMISSIONERS AT FOTHERINGAY, 1586. 69
The commissioners soon repaired to the great hall at Fotheringay,
where they were to hold their Court. The hall had been prepared for
the event. In the background, under a canopy surmounted by the
leopard, rose a throne intended for Queen Elizabeth, who never sat
on it ; on the right were seated, in the form of an amphitheatre,
Bromley, Lord Chancellor, Burghley, Lord Treasurer, the Earls of
Oxford, Kent and Derby, and thirteen other commissioners ; on the
left, the eighteen others, among whom were Walsingham and Hatton ;
lower down, the great judges of England, the first Baron of the Ex-
chequer ; in the middle, around a table, were Popham, Attorney-
General, two Clerks Register and some magistrates. A good many
Protestant gentlemen of the neighbourhood, admitted to the trial,
occupied the space between the main entrance and the bar ; an arm-
chair for Mary, near the table and opposite Elizabeth's throne, was in
marked contrast, as much by its position as by its simplicity.'
Mary Stuart entered the hall, clad in black velvet, over which she
had thrown a white veil reaching almost to the ground. Four of her
ladies, her physician, Bourgoin, and her steward, Melville, attended her.
On reaching the bar, she bowed to the commissioners, and went to the
arm-chair intended for her ; but noticing that it was only a stool covered
with crimson velvet, she was offended, and said : "I accept this seat
only as a Christian ; my place ought to be there," and she pointed to
Elizabeth's throne, the brilliancy and splendour of which hurt and
offended her, " for," she added, " I have been a Queen since my birth,
and, moreover, have been married to a King of France." That feeling
was of short duration. She then cast a glance on the nobles who were
to try her, and turning to Melville said, " Alas ! here are many coun-
sellors, and yet there is not one for me." . ' \
Bromley having called silence, turned to Mary, set forth, while
praising his mistress, the reasons which led her to bring the Queen of
Scots to trial, and protested that Elizabeth had come to that deter-
mination only with regret and through fear lest she should fail in what
she owed God, her people, and her own dignity. Ordered by Burghley,
the Justice-Clerk then read the decree which constituted the commission
a tribunal.
Mary, before answering, told, in a few words, all about her unjust
treatment in England, and again protested against the right of that
tribunal to try her, adding that her title of Queen placed her above the
^ Howell's State Trials, I., 1172, 1173.
70 DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586.
peers, and that she came forward only to prove her innocence. Burgh-
ley did not heed her protest. The peers were kindly disposed, and
advised that the protest and the reply be registered, but without
binding themselves in any way. Then Gowdy, one of the crown
lawyers, stated the crimes with which Mary Stuart was charged, and
maintained that the Queen of Scots had advised, not only the invasion
of England, but also the assassination of Elizabeth.
Mary could not thoroughly disprove those charges, and besides she
was taken at a disadvantage, as she had neither document nor counsellor
of any kind. Only two lines of defence lay open to her ; she must either
admit having had a hand in the Babington conspiracy, or deny all share
in it. The first course would have been the better one before an
untrammelled and impartial court, but it would have been madness
before men who waited eagerly to ruin her by means of the slightest
confession. The second, though less noble, could alone be admitted.
It had, besides, the immense advantage of forcing the adverse party to
bring forward proofs. For Mary that advantage was incalculable, as
she was sure that she had not written anything against the Queen of
England. From want of counsellors and advocates she adopted the
latter plan, intending to modify it as her case needed and truth
demanded.'
She answered that she had never known Babington, had not kept
up any correspondence with him, had never conspired against Elizabeth,
and that to convict her, words alone were not enough, but that some
document in her own handwriting must be produced. She denied that
she had known or encouraged Ballard, but admitted that she had
written to the Queen in favour of the persecuted Catholics, had
warned her that the minds of the people were being roused, and
had received letters, by whom written she knew not,^ but solemnly
protested that she had never urged any one to do a crime, and showed
clearly that, from the depths of her prison, she neither could know of,
nor hinder, the enterprises of those who were at liberty.
When mention was made of Babington's letters, copies of which
were put forward, Mary said : " What do those letters prove ? I am
not aware that Babington wrote them ; but supposing he did write
them, it must be proved that I received them. If Babington or any
other dared to affirm it, I should firmly give him the lie. The faults
' That line of conduct entered fully into " Mary Stuart to Morgan, 2d July 1586. —
the views of Chancellor Bellifevre. — Spanish Prince LabanofF, VI., 355.
Despatches, Teulet, V., 428.
DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586. 71
of others must not be imputed to me ; besides, I lately received a
packet of letters which had been kept for nearly a year, and I know-
not whence they came."'
Against those denials Babington's confession was set up. " Babing-
ton," said she, " has confessed what he pleased, but it is absolutely false
that I have had recourse to such means to regain my liberty ; my enemies
may easily have got the cyphers which I used, and have counterfeited
them to write falsehoods. What likelihood is there, for instance, that I
should have sought, as is affirmed, the help of the Earl of Arundel,
whom I knew to be in prison, or that of Northumberland, a young man
who is unknown to me. Besides," added she, " if Babington did make
such a statement, why was he put to death ? He ought to have been
here to confront me and confound me by his testimony. Far from that,
your tortures leave full scope for imposture, and for ever do away with
truth."
The abridged confessions of Ballard and Savage in reference to
Babington's letters were then read, but Mary adhered to what she had
said, and the commissioners, unable to catch her by cross-examination,
produced those famous letters. Mary asked to see them. " They are
bad copies," she said with spirit; "those documents are not mine ; they
have been got up from the alphabet I sent to France." She then
firmly pressed them to bring forward the originals. It was enough to
confound her and close her mouth, to put them in as criminating articles.
Mary had a right to call for them, and it was the duty of the Judges to
show them. Walsingham and Burghley were too cunning to allow such
a fine opportunity to escape ; but how can one show what one does not
possess, what one never has possessed ? Criminating articles were
then, it is plain, completely wanting. From that fact alone, Mary
ought to have been acquitted ; yet, the case was proceeded with ; she
was, in defiance of the most sacred rights, judged and condemned
without being found guilty, or confessing her guilt.
During the embarrassment of Elizabeth's counsellors, Mary went
on : "I do not deny," said she, " that, following an inclination natural
to human beings, I have ardently wished for freedom, and have
striven for my release ; but God is my witness that I have never
plotted against the Queen's life. Nineteen years of close captivity
have made me write to my friends ; I have begged their help, I own
it, but I never wrote what is now handed me. I also confess," added
' The letters delivered by Chiteauneuf to Gilbert Gifford. They had been detained by
M. de Mauvissi^re.
72 DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586.
she, with tears in her eyes, " that I have often written in favour of the
persecuted Catholics, and that I would have given my blood to save
them from their afflictions, but what link is there between that and the
death of your Queen ? How shall I be responsible for the perverse
designs of men driven to despair, of men whom I do not even know ? "
" No faithful citizen," interrupted Burghley, " has suffered for the sake
of religion ; only a few have been condemned who were traitors, and
upheld the authority of the Pope over the Queen, and defended the
Bull.'' " Yet," answered Mary, " I have been told and have read the
contrary." " You may have read it," replied Burghley, " but do not
the same books advance also that our Queen has fallen from royal
dignity ? "
As Burghley insisted on the authenticity of the letters, she defended
herself only with the more eagerness. " It is easy," said she, "to counter-
feit cyphers, and the writings of others ; you have a striking example
of it in that impostor who, by similar means, passed himself off in France
as the bastard brother of my son." To tell the truth, I fear that is the
work of Walsingham, who, if hearsay can be believed, is working my
ruin and my child's." And, addressing him haughtily: " Do you think.
Master Secretary," said she to him, " that I am not aware of the artifices
you use against me with such knavish cruelty ? Your spies beset me
on all sides ; but you perhaps do not know that many of those spies
have made false depositions, and have warned me of what you are
about ? And if he has so acted. My Lords," said she, turning to the
assembly, " how shall I be assured that he has not forged my cyphers
to put me to death, when I know he has conspired against my child's
life and mine ? "
Those withering words, falling suddenly and without warning on the
head of the guilty Walsingham, called forth a quick reply. " God is
my witness," exclaimed he, " that in private, I have done nothing but
what an honest man ought to have done, and in public I have done
nothing unworthy of my office ;" I have carefully sifted the conspiracies
against our Sovereign, and had Ballard himself tendered me his services,
I should have accepted them." Mary begged him to forget the freedom
with which she had reminded him of what was said about him. " Give
no more heed to die words of those who slander me," said she, " than
' He had been sent by Walsingham himself. ments in hand, that the minister was neither
— Blackwood, CEuvres Completes, 663. an " honest man," nor a " worthy minister." —
" Prince Labanoff is of an opinion diametri- VI., 322. I do not speak of the letter to
cally opposite. He has proved, with docu- Babington.
DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586. 73
I do to the statements of those who betray you. No value is to be
attached to the testimony of those spies or agents, whose words always
give the lie to their hearts. Yea, too, do not believe that I have been
base enough to wish that harm should be done the Queen, my very
dear sister. No," continued she, in tears, " I shall never seek her ruin
at the cost of my honour, my conscience, and my salvation."
Such was the state of matters on the morning of the ^^th of October.
In the afternoon, a copy of the letter which Charles Paget had written
to Mary, was read to her; therein' he inquired about a conference held
in Paris, between Mendo9a, the ambassador of Spain, and Ballard,
concerning the invasion of England. Mary merely replied that the
point in question did not lie there, and that the letter did not prove
that she had agreed to the assassination of Elizabeth. They went
back upon Babington's letter, as well as the famous letter of the ^^th
of July, and made an attempt to convict her by the confessions of
her secretaries ; to which she replied that, in truth, she thought Curie
a very honest man, but that she did not think so much of Nau,
though he had been recommended to her by the Cardinal de Lorraine
and the King of France ; the French secretary, she added, might
not always tell the truth, through fear ; to save his life, he might
even allow himself to be bribed, and Curie was devoted to his fellow
secretary : both, in short, might have written in those letters things
which she had not dictated to them, or might even have replied without
her knowledge. " To what a wretched state," she exclaimed, " are the
majesty and safety of Princes brought, if their fate depends on the
writings and testimonies of their secretaries. As for me, I have written
only what was quite natural. I wished to regain my freedom ; to
convict me, either my words or my writings must be quoted. If my
secretaries have written anything against the Queen, my sister, they
have done so, unknown to me, and deserve to be punished for their
rashness ; if they were here, I should be at once held guiltless, and if I
had my papers in hand, I could reply with more clearness."
As no originals could be produced, nothing was more easy than to
call in the secretaries, and, bringing them face to face with Mary, convict
her from their statements : and that would have been the more just, as
an Act of Parliament, passed in 15 71, expressly^ ordered witnesses and
accused to be confronted.
Burghley soon saw what the Queen of Scots wanted, and therefore
tried to stop the discussion and change the drift of the debates. He
alleged that she had intended to send her son to Spain, and hand over
vol.. II. K
74 DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586.
to Philip II. her rights to the throne of England. Mary took no heed
of the first charge, as she thought it trifling and out of place, and
answered to the second, that she had no kingdom to give up, but that
she held herself free to settle her affairs as she chose, without opening
her mind to any one.
As they would not take up the main question, the debate was about
mere trifles. Mary was then charged with sending her cyphers to
certain Catholics ; she answered that she had as much right to address
people of her religion as Elizabeth had to write to the partisans of her
own. Such littleness had plainly only one end in view : to make Mary
lose the thread of her defence — for not one of those articles was in-
cluded in the indictment. The confessions of the secretaries were
again brought forward, and Mary affirmed anew that she had known
neither Ballard nor Babington. " But," said Burghley, " you certainly
know Morgan, who sent Parry here to kill the Queen, and you have
given him a pension." " I do not know," replied Mary, "what Morgan
has done ; but this I do know, he has given up everything for me, and
I was in honour bound to befriend him. Your Queen, besides, sets me
the example, by giving pensions to Gray, to my enemies in Scotland,
and even to my son." Burghley answered, not much to the purpose,
and matters seemed for a time to take a more serious turn.
Extracts were then read from Mary's letters to Englefield, Paget
and Mendo9a, to prove that she had connived at the invasion of the
kingdom ; an unfair course of action, which, while passing from one
point to another, without throwing light on anything, ended by confusing
all questions, and forming against Mary a lengthy, but by no means con-
clusive brief Mary returned to the main point — the conspiracy against
the life of Elizabeth. All that, said she, did not prove that she had had
a share in it, and if persons who took an interest in her had worked to
release her, no fault could be found with her, for she had often told
Queen Elizabeth of her resolution to leave no means untried to get
free. Her absolute refusal to reply to secondary questions so long as
the main charge was unsettled, forced the commissioners, from want
of power to convict the prisoner, to close the meeting. Here the first
sitting of the court was brought to a close.
Next day, Mary again protested that she did not own the authority
of the commissioners, and boldly asserted her innocence. She bitterly
complained that she had received no attention at any time ; that her
offers had been rejected, her proposals spurned, her letters tampered with
and handed over to the public, and her royalty disowned to such an
DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586. 75
extent that she was forced to appear before a tribunal, not as a Queen,
but as a criminal, to answer for her acts, after being styled a conspirator,
though truly not one. "It is true," said she, " that I have fervently
prayed for the welfare, safety and freedom of Catholics, but I have
never wished that end to be reached by murder and bloodshed. I have
chosen the part of Esther rather than of Judith ; my course has been, to
pray to God for the people, not to take the life of the poorest peasant.
My Lords," exclaimed she, " when you shall have done your worst
against me, and robbed me of my rights, you shall feel the dreadful
consequences."
The Lord Treasurer now addressed her : " Madam," said he, " I
have to answer you as a Commissioner and as a Privy Councillor. As
a Commissioner, I must tell you, in the first place, that your protest has
been taken down, and that a copy of it will be handed to you ; I shall
add that you are wrong to doubt our competency, because it rests on
letters patent from the Queen, stamped with the great seal. We are
here assembled to know what part you have taken in the attempts
directed against our mistress ; we were empowered to look into the
matter in your absence, and if we have been anxious for your presence
at the debates, it is not to offend against propriety. So we have but
one thing to lay to your charge, that you knew of the design and
encouraged it ; your letters have been read in public, only to prove
that." The Queen here broke in, saying that the letters which had no
address might have been intended for others, that passages might have
been introduced, and that it was not enough to prove certain circum-
stances, but that the fact itself must be proved. She concluded by
again asking for the papers which had been taken from her. " What
is the good of those papers ?" answered Burghley ; " the things are too
fresh to be already forgotten ; moreover, Babington and the secretaries
have acknowledged their authenticity. It is for the judges to decide
whether or not the denial of the accused, cancels the evidence for the
prosecution." He added as Councillor, that Mary must blame herself
and the Scots, that she was not set free long ago, and not Elizabeth ;
while, with the view of casting all the shame of that attempt on the
innocent victim, he recalled the conspiracy of Parry, plotted by Morgan,
at the very time when, according to him,- they were disposed to release
the Queen of Scots. Here, he went out of his way to say that Morgan
was the warm partisan of Mary Stuart. The bitter remark wounded
Mary : " Oh ! " cried she, " What ! you also my enemy ! "
Mary Stuart's exclamation cut short Burghley's speech, and the
76 . DEFENCE OF MARY STUART, 1586.
examination of the proofs was next proceeded with. Mary energetically-
protested, and refused to listen to anything. "Well," said Burghley,
" we shall hear them — we, the judges." " I also," replied the Queen,
" shall hear them elsewhere, and shall defend myself ; for it would be
madness to recognise as my judges, men who have made up their minds
to be hostile to me ; " and she began to sob. Her letters to Dr Allen,
Morgan, Paget and Babington, were then produced ; she was again
accused of having wished to give up to the King of Spain her rights to
the throne of England, a project which virtually implied the ruin of the
Queen, and an invasion of England. She was blamed too, for allowing
English subjects' to call her their Most Serene Princess. Mary defended
herself with touching simplicity, placing in their true light the supposed,
facts, denying the false imputations, boldly rejecting slander, in turn
ardent, persuasive or downcast, uttering amid her burning apostrophes and
her close reasoning, terrible and sudden replies, and exclamations which
rend the soul and call forth sobs. Bright is the page in history wherein
we look upon that woman, who, during her whole life, and notwithstanding
the rigour of her captivity, coped with a powerful Queen, and who, strong
in her innocence, still braved in her last struggle the lawyers and favourites
of that same Queen. " Unjust proceedings ! " cried she, " passages are
chosen from my letters, and their real meaning twisted ; the originals
are taken from me ; neither the religion which I profess, nor my sacred
character as a Queen, is respected. My Lords, if my personal feelings
can make one sympathetic chord vibrate in your bosoms, think of the
royal majesty insulted in my person ; think of the example which you
set ; think of your own Queen who was like me wrongly mixed up in a
conspiracy."^ "I am accused," said she also, "of having written to
Christian princes in the interest of my freedom ; I confess I have done
so, and I should do so again if need were. What human creature — Oh !
Good God ! — would not do the same to escape from a captivity such as
mine ? You lay to my charge my letters to Babington. Well ! be it
so : I deny them not ; only, show me a single word about the Queen,
my sister, and then I shall allow your right to prosecute me. You put
forward the testimony of my secretaries ; their confessions have been
wrung from them by dread and threats, and must be null and void. You
speak to me of the confessions of those who have been put to death ;
now that they are no more, you can say what you please, believe it who
will." Then, entering on the particulars of her situation, she added,
' Dr Allen. " In the Wyatt Conspiracy, 1554.
MARY SENTENCED TO DEATH, 1586. 77
" I came Into this country on the faith of Elizabeth's promises and
friendship ; this here, My Lords, is the pledge of love and protection,
this the pledge I received from your mistress : look at it carefully."
Saying those words, she took from her finger the ring which Elizabeth
sent her after the defeat at Langside. " Trusting to it, I came among ■
you ; now tell me how this pledge has been redeemed." She asked an
interview with the Queen, a hearing in Parliament or before the Privy
Council. Seeing all her requests refused, she hastened to conclude
with these remarkable words : " Accused, I claim the privilege of
having an advocate to plead my cause; a Queen, I claim to be believed
on the word of a Queen."
Those were her last words ; she rose with dignity, and with a firm
step, went towards Burghley, Walsingham, Warwick and Hatton, and
left the commissioners, before whom she was not again to appear.
The meeting was adjourned by order of Queen Elizabeth, and con-
voked on the 25th of October (4th November n.s.), not at Fotheringay,
but in the Star Chamber at Westminster. Mary, meanwhile, was at
Fotheringay in the greatest uncertainty, yet she lost none of her usual
calmness : " I have seen the Queen of Scots," wrote Paulet to Walsing-
ham, the day after the debates ; " she is indisposed, but calm and quite
undismayed."'
On the day fixed, the commissioners met at Westminster. Nau and
Curie were called to the Star Chamber ; they confirmed their previous
deposition in the main, but energetically denied the principal count of
the indictment, namely : the project of assassination. That denial dis-
pleased the forger ministers, and confounded them. Walsingham flew
into a rage, blamed Nau for speaking against his conscience, recalled
the confession of Babington and his accomplices, and loaded him with
abuse. The French secretary repeated his declaration, appealed to
God and Christian Princes against the iniquity of the proceedings,
should the judges condemn his mistress on charges so " false, slanderous,
and fictitious," and summoned them to take note of his declaration.
Despite so strong a protest, Mary was condemned to death, with this
clause added, that the sentence was in no way to affect the honour or
rights of her son, the King of Scotland. Four days later, Parliament
ratified the sentence.^
•Paulet to Walsingham, Oct. 11. — Miss sq. ; Caussin, Jebb, 11., 86 sq. Histoire secrete
Strickland, V., 441. des Rois et des Reines d'Angleterre, II. — Jebb,
^ Howell's State Trials, I., 1 166 sq. ; Teulet, Tytler, Chalmers, Lingard, Miss Strickland,
IV., 150 sq. ; Camden, 445 sq. ; Sanderson, 113 etc. Dissertation, III., at the end of the work.
78 MARY'S SENTENCE, 1586.
Shameful judgment ! Criminal proceedings begun contrary to all
right, continued and carried out against all justice ! However prejudiced
one may be against the Queen of Scots, it is impossible to be blind to the
fact, that she was condemned only through hatred and perfidy, and with-
out any respect for the law. The commissioners meant to convict her
from testimony, and they put the witnesses to death ; they referred to
the confessions of her secretaries, and refused, not only to confront them
with her, but also to register their replies which were favourable to her ;
they quoted letterSj and the originals were not forthcoming ; they could
not find her guilty on the principal count, so they fell back on the
details ; in short, they chose only her enemies to try her ; and took no
heed of her appeal to Parliament, biit went on charging her all the same.
It is almost beyond question that Mary's death was settled before
Elizabeth and her Council made up their minds to bring her to
trial. Even the judges betray themselves ; the most famous among
them. Lord Burghley, wrote to the Earl of Shrewsbury, who was unwell
at the time : " since the Queen of Scots has not cleared herself from the
charge brought against her, say you are in favour of a conviction," and
he dictated to the Earl, the terms in which he ought to ask it.' It is
clear, from that single confession of Burghley's, that the Queen of Scots,
"the Queen of the Castell,"'' as he scoffingly called her, "was con-
demned, not because she was convicted, but because she did not
sufficiently prove her innocence." After that, may not one say, with an
enemy of Mary Stuart, " that the question was not so much to punish
her for the part she had taken in the conspiracy, as to convince the
public that she had a share in it, so that people might think the sentence
less strange, or rather might be persuaded that her death was absolutely
necessary, for the safety of England." ^
1 Quoted in Lingard's History. ^ Histoire d'Angleterre, par Rapin Thoyras,
^ Lord Burghley to Secretary Davison, 15th VII., 431.
Oct. 1586. — Ellis, I., iii., 12.
CHAPTER XXIV.
1586.
SLANDER SPREAD BY WALSINGHAM THROUGHOUT FRANCE — INTRIGUES OF WOTTON —
CHATEAUNEUF'S efforts FOR MARY — SPEECH OF BELLIEVRE — HIS RELATIONS WITH
ELIZABETH — DESTRAPPES — THE KING OF SCOTS AND PHILIP II. TAKE UP MARY
STUART'S CAUSE — ELIZABETH'S DISSEMBLING — HER WORDS IN PARLIAMENT.
T "^ yTHILE the English Cabinet strove to ruin Mary Stuart, it tried
* ' at the same time to destroy her good name throughout Europe,
and banish from her side those who, from their position, were bound to
stand by her. The calumnies forged in London were, through the
zeal of the English ambassador, re-echoed in Paris, in a manner far from
favourable for the unfortunate Queen. Walsingham availed himself
of Mary's relations with Philip II. to further his own cause, and bring
about a quarrel between them and the Court of France. Unsuccessful,
so long as he confined himself to words, he sent to France, Wotton,
a skilful intriguer, who had already, in Scotland, given proofs of his
ability. He was to lay the train and fire it, by informing the King
and Queen-mother of the little warmth shown by Mary for the French
interests, and by descanting on her partiality for Philip II. He
was, further, to enlarge upon the unseemliness and danger of such a
line of conduct, mention an intercepted letter written by her to Mendoga,
thanking him for his good services, and promising to give over her
rights to his Sovereign, and then to hand in a copy of a will drawn out
by that Princess, in favour of the King of Spain, and a number of letters
written to the Archbishop of Glasgow, Morgan and Paget, expressing
a certain mistrust of France.' Those base whisperings of the English
envoy, laid before a Court naturally distrustful, strangely cooled the
interest taken in her ; and, had it not been for the energy shown
by Chateauneuf at that crisis, the Court of France would probably
have forsaken Mary Stuart, and England have at once put her to death.
" Monsieur," wrote he to Baron d'Esneval, on the /^th of October, " I
again send this messenger to the King in reference to the Queen of
• Mendoga to Philip II., 8th November. — Teulet, V., 421 sq.
8o CHATEAUNEUF'S EFFORTS FOR MARY, 1586.
Scots, who is, I assure you, more than ever in need of help from his
Majesty, and I much fear that the Httle heed taken in France of
affairs in England, may largely tend to hasten the last breath of
this poor Princess."'
We have no difficulty in recognising here " the innate whisperer "
and heart of a man who, a few days before the commissioners left, wrote
to Elizabeth in favour of the " Lady Queen, Mother, Sovereign, . . .
smitten by misfortune," asking that " at least, according to all civil
and imperial laws, received and acted upon throughout the world, she
might be allowed, before answering, to have the help of counsel, a
favour which nowhere was withheld from those branded with high
treason."'' That nobleness of attitude and frankness of speech do the
more honour to the ambassador as he was in the midst of traitors, and
ran the risk of giving offence to both France and England. But do
what he might, matters went on apace in London, while France, waver-
ing and disheartened, seemed to forget in a moment of jealousy, that
Mary had worn on her brow the flory Crown. Goaded by that luke-
warmness and carelessness, Chateauneuf became more earnest : "It
seems," said he, " that little heed is taken abroad of the Queen of Scots.
I consider her lost, or in a very sad state. I have given warning
pithily and quickly, as you know. I have done my duty in the matter,
and shall be free from all blame." ^
That strong appeal at length made the French Government send to
England, as ambassador-extraordinary, Pomponne de Bellievre, with
express orders to look after Mary Stuart ; only, so many were the
delays, so much time was lost on the joui-ney, and event followed event
so rapidly, that Chateauneuf, now scarcely knowing to whom he should
apply, wrote to the private secretary, Brulart, this forcible letter : —
" Sir, you must have seen from the King's letter that I am straining
every nerve that M. de Bellievre may find the Queen of Scots alive
when he reaches this. I trust all may go well. I do not know if
people are deceiving me here. Had I had full power, I should have
begun by a public protest, to both Queen and Parliament, for those
people are to be swayed only by fear, whatever may be said to the
contrary. But, dreading lest such a measure should displease, I have
until now used only prayers and requests, sure that gentle means are
1 M. de Chateauneuf to Baron d'Esneval. 2 m. de Chateauneuf to the Queen of Eng-
■ — Teulet, IV., 108. The words in itaKcs in land. — Teulet, IV., no, in.
the text are so in the original document. ? M. de Chateauneuf to M. d'Esneval. —
Teulet, IV., 113.
SPEECH OF BELLIEVRE, 1586. 81
the best when available. If anything go wrong before the arrival of
the said M. de Bellievre, I assure you that I am not to be blamed for
failing in my duty."'
On the very day that Chiteauneuf wrote that last and touching
appeal, Bellievre landed at Dover. The day after his arrival in
London, he asked an audience of Elizabeth ; " but," says one of the
gentlemen in attendance upon the ambassador, " as the cunning of
this Queen is endless, (she) wished to put off seeing the said envoy
for a few days."^ Wild reports were spread in reference to the
new embassy. At first, it was stated that the envoys had brought
the plague with them ; the number of the victims was quoted,
and particulars were given as to the place and manner of death. That
first report being hushed, it began to be noised abroad, that among the
French envoys there were men of little note, who had come to London
only to kill Elizabeth. Those despicable hints were thrown out
merely to gain time, and leave to Parliament, then assembled, the
leisure to condemn the Queen of Scots. Elizabeth made no diffi-
culties in receiving the French envoy as soon as the sentence was
ratified.
The audience took place on Sunday, the 28th of November (old style).
Bellievre was accompanied by Chateauneuf. Elizabeth received them
with extraordinary pdrnp. She was seated upon her throne ; the grand
Officers of State and the Lords, assembled around her, in order of rank,
formed a brilliant spectacle. Before that imposing Court, Bellievre
uttered his famous speech, an odd tissue of reasoning and erudition, in
which we have poets, philosophers, historians and mythologists preaching
mercy. " The enemies of the Queen of Scots," said he, " spread a
baleful report among your people, that the existence of the said Queen
is your ruin, and that your two lives cannot go on together in this same
kingdom. . . . It seems as if the authors of that statement wish to
attribute all to the counsel of men, and leave nothing to God's provi-
dence. ... If some Catholic Princes resolve to attack your
Kingdom, it will not be to save the Queen of Scots, but to uphold
religion. Though the said lady be taken away from this world, the
cause of war is not removed, but rather the occasion for it increased,
and the pretext for the said war made more specious than before, to
avenge an act so strange and so extraordinary, committed against all
' M. de Ch4teauneuf to BrOlart, 21st No- ° Advis pour M. de Villeroy, de ce qui
vember. — Teulet, IV., 1 14. a estd faict en Angleterre par M. de Bellievre.
— Teulet, IV., 139.
VOL. II. L
82 SPEECH OF BELLIEVRE, 1586.
worldly laws, against a Sovereign Princess, a Queen anointed, and held
sacred in the Church of God. ... If you put the Queen of Scots to
death, as some advise you, her death will arm your enemies with despair,
and with an honest excuse for attempting against you, all that may lie
in their power, to avenge the outrage on their relative."
After showing Elizabeth that she ran a great risk in using rigorous
measures, he asked her to ensure Mary's safety in the name of the
Queen-mother, the King of France and "the reigning Queen," in
extremely tender and touching terms : " Madam," continued he, " you
can greatly oblige us all by the resolution it may please you to take in
the case of the noble Princess who has been our Queen, and your
Majesty is sure to earn our lasting thanks if, instead of handing her over
to the evils with which she is threatened, you tender her a gracious
treatment." ' Elizabeth replied to " Messieurs les ambassadeurs," that
she much regretted that persons of their quality should have been
chosen to negotiate so thankless an affair, but that her resolution was
taken, and that, at a later period, the patience she had used to the Queen
of Scots would be appreciated, and the justice of her conduct recog-
nised ; and that, besides, she had been for some time past aware of the
stories which people took the trouble to tell her, but that those noble
examples could not induce her to change her purpose. She took leave
of the ambassadors, telling them that she put her faith in God, and
that with His grace, "poor woman" as she was, she should overcome
her enemies.''
In that first audience nothing was gained for the Queen of Scots.
Bellievre waited in vain for another answer from Elizabeth. Thinking
himself forgotten, and his presence in London needless, he, a week
after, asked leave to return to France. Elizabeth delayed granting it
to him only to ensure his presence at the ruin of her whom he came
to defend. On the ^^gth of December the sentence against Mary was
proclaimed " with great solemnity and ceremony throughout the streets
and public places in London, and, consequently, throughout the whole
of the said kingdom. After the proclamation, the bells of the said town
were rung, without ceasing, during twenty-four hours, and every inhabi-
tant was ordered to kindle before his street-door bonfires, such as those
we kindle in France on the eve of the day of St John the Baptist." ^
' Speech of M. de Bellifevre to the Queen ambassadors of France, le Sieur de Bellievre
of England for the Queen of Scots. — Teulet, and le Sieur de I'Aubespine Chiteauneuf. —
IV., 1 15-128. Teulet, IV., 129, 130.
2 Answer of the Queen of England to the ' AdvispourM.deVilleroy.— Teulet,IV.,i42.
ELIZABETH AND BELLIEVRE, 1587. 83
Through an excess of zeal, which might be called insolence, fires
were kindled even under the windows of the French embassy, amid
the hootings of the mob." That impudent affront thrown in the face of
the representatives of France, roused the indignation of the ambas-
sadors ; Bellievre felt hurt and mortified. He asked Elizabeth, before
proceeding further, to give him time to inform the King, his master, of
what was going on. Elizabeth, with haughty words, and, under pretence
of illness, refused to receive the ambassador's letter, and sent it to
Walsingham. Three days later, Bellievre received i/erbally the assur-
ance that there would be a respite of twelve days. He at once sent to
the Court of France the Viscount de Genlis, eldest son of the secretary,
Briilart, to acquaint Henry HI. with the state of matters, and ask for
fresh instructions. Henry HI. encouraged the ambassadors in their
difficult undertaking, and empowered them to try all means which
prudence might suggest to bring Elizabeth to sentiments more befitting
humanity.
Bellievre requested another audience, which was granted him four
or five days after. The ambassador defended Mary Stuart with a
manly energy, made the more keen by the remembrance of his
former failure. He, in the first place, put forward the wishes of
King Henry HI., his master, with regard to the Queen of Scots,
and his grief on learning that the Queen of England was so unkind
to her illustrious prisoner ; he then entered upon the question
of right, denied that Mary was under the jurisdiction of any other
Queen, and reflected on the unseemly way in which she had been
treated : " This noble Princess," said he, " is so humbled and trodden
under foot that her greatest enemies ought to pity her, and therefore I
plead for some clemency and kindness towards her at your Majesty's
hands. What now remains for the Queen of Scots but a wretched life
of a few short days ? If she is innocent, she ought to be discharged ;
if you hold her gi.iilty, it would be honourable and noble in you to
pardon her. When your Majesty does so, then shall you do what
Princes are wont to do. . . . Those who wish to reign well and
happily, had better imprint on ' the table of the memory ' the sacred
words : ' thou shalt not kill ; ' blood calls for blood, and such doings
often bring about a sad end." =•
He tried to wean Elizabeth from her resolution by telling her that
1 Mendoga to Philip II., 24th December. — Queen of England on the day of the Inno-
Teulet, v., 438. cents, 6th January, according to the reformed
2 The thing which was pointed out to the calendar 1587. — Teulet, IV., 133 sq.
84 ELIZABETH AND BELLIEVRE, 1587.
Christian Princes would thank her for her clemency, and that they were
disposed to answer for Mary Stuart's conduct ; but, as he met with no
success he cast aside entreaty, and addressed threatening words to the
flint-hearted Sovereign. " Monsieur de Bellievre," cried she angrily,
"are you charged by the King, my brother, to address me thus?"
" Yes, Madam, I have his Majesty's express commands to that effect."
" Have you that power signed by his hand ? " asked the Queen.
" Yes, Madam, the King, my master, your good brother, has expressly
commended me and charged me, by letters signed with his own hand,
to address to you remonstrances." " I ask from you as much, signed
by your hand," added Elizabeth.^ Bellievre handed it to her at once,
and prepared for his return, taking home with him only disgust at the
course of events, and bitterly regretting that he had not been able to
save Mary Stuart.
An ambassador from Elizabeth followed him soon after to Paris.
He delivered to the King a letter in which Elizabeth slighted the
Court of France, and demanded that the King should explain the
terms used by Monsieur de Bellievre. Far from excusing herself, the
vain-glorious and brazen-faced daughter of Henry VIII. accused the
King of supporting conspirators, and preferring a murderess to her.
In reply to the menaces with which Henry III. had threatened her,
she said : " your being aggrieved that I do not spare her life, is a
hostile threat which, I assure you, shall never make me fear ; on the
contrary, it drives me at once to get rid of the cause of so many
misfortunes ; " such strong language showed clearly, that Elizabeth
would neither heed nor respect the King of France. " I should not
live an hour," said she, " could any Prince boast of so much humility
from me as to drink such a draught of dishonour," to which she added
this ironical counsel : "in the name of God, give not the reins to wild
horses, lest they shake your saddle." ^
Her deeds went far beyond her words. To over-reach the King of
France, and stop any further intercession for Mary, Elizabeth conceived
the diabolical idea of getting Chateauneuf led into some foul play,
hoping that Henry III., busied in saving his ambassador, might forget
his distress about the Queen of Scots. The idea was so speedily put
into execution, that the ambassador sent by Elizabeth to the King of
France, after the departure of M. de Bellievre, took with him to the
1 Advis pour M. de Villeroy.— Teulet, IV., = The Queen of England to the King, i8th
145 ; Egerton, 91-101. January.— Bibliothfeque Imp&iale, Supp. frang.
593, 421 ; Egerton, 98.
DESTRAPPES, 1587. 85
King, not only her complaints against Mary Stuart, but also a docu-
ment charging Chiteauneuf with conspiracy.
Immediately after M. de Bellievre's departure, Stafford, brother of
Elizabeth's ambassador in France, presented himself at the French
embassy, and, addressing the secretary, Destrappes, said that there
was in London, a man confined for debt, who was very anxious to speak
with Chateauneuf, on a matter of great importance to the Queen of
Scots. Wondering what the important matter might be, Chateauneuf
made immediate enquiries. He sent Destrappes to the prisoner. The
latter proposed to kill Queen Elizabeth, if the ambassador would
undertake to pay his debts. Language so strange surprised Destrappes,
who returned, along with Stafford, to inform Chiteauneuf. Fortunately,
the ambassador had lived too long in England, and had seen too closely
and too often the vile tricks of the ministers, to allow himself to be
entrapped. He turned Stafford out of his house, and forbade him again
to set foot in it.
The next day Stafford, heedless of the ambassador's prohibition,
again went to Destrappes, and begged to be taken along with him to
France. Destrappes at once told his master. " Go and tell that fellow
Stafford," replied the ambassador, " that I have forbidden him my house,
and that he must leave at once, and that, did I not respect his relatives,
I should, this very instant, inform the Queen of his proceedings." '
Stafford was arrested the same day, and taken to the Tower, where he
was soon joined by Destrappes, who had been seized at Dover. The
ministers had recourse to their usual means to blind the eyes of the
English people, and ruin the French ambassador : they forged compro-
mising documents. The ambassador called before the Council, defended
himself as best he could ; but the ministers were bound to assert the
value of the proofs they pretended to have in writing, and what could
truth avail against a falsehood so bolstered up ? Time, precious for
Mary Stuart, was uselessly lost : Elizabeth, ashamed no doubt of such
proceedings, tried to hush up the affair, but she took advantage of the
pretended conspiracy, to close for several weeks, the ports of England,
and thus keep the complaints of Henry IH. from reaching hen'
James VL, till now lulled in indolence, was suddenly wakened from
' Advis pour M. de Villeroy. — Teulet, IV., Times. The Hague Edition, I., 324). Henry
147. III. may have been guilty of heedlessness, but
" Murdin, 578-583. Various State Papers. — I have never been able to bring myself to
Teulet, IV., 147, 201 ; V., 463. I think the believe that he asked for Mary Stuart's death,
facts I have just related, can serve as a refuta- as the English historian has it.
tion of what Burnet says. (History of his Own
86 JAMES VI. TAKES IN HAND HIS MOTHER'S CAUSE, 1587.
his apathy by the clamours of the Scottish lords. All the time Mary
had been a prisoner, their minds, swayed by fear or sundered by rival
interests, had, only at rare intervals, thought of her ; but on the day of
her sentence, a cry of astonishment and grief went forth throughout
Scotland ; the nation's pride was wounded in what it held most dear,
and the nobles who had already braved so many dangers to shield their
honour, rose to a man to save or avenge their Queen.' In presence of
that bold resolve, James dared not falter ; his wavering was at an end,
and he seemed to remember that he was a King.^ He sent William
Keith to London, and charged him to come to terms with the ambassador
of France, ^ on behalf of his mother. At the same time, he wrote to
his ordinary ambassador at the English Court : " thinke not that any
your travellis can do goode, if hir lyfe be taikin ; for then adeu with my
dealing with thaime that are speciall instrumentis thairof. And thair-
fore gif ye looke for contineuance of my fauore touartis you." ♦
Keith on his arrival, presented himself before Elizabeth, entreated
her to spare the life of the Queen of Scots, and warned her, that in case
of unwillingness, James VI., his master, must hold himself, in duty
bound, to avenge her death. He handed her, at the same time, a letter,
in which the young King used threats and prayers to save his mother's
life.5 Elizabeth could not contain her wrath ; she dismissed the envoy,
and the next day wrote a violent letter to the King of Scotland.
When the first movements of anger were over, an arrangement was
thought of.
The Master of Gray was sent along with Robert Melville to make a
last attempt ; they were long refused an audience, and, when it was at
last granted, they could not help asking themselves whether they had
received a favour or an insult. In answer to the first words in reference
to Mary Stuart's fate, Elizabeth spoke these freezing words : " I think
it be extant yet, but I will not promise for an hour."^ The ambassadors,
in the name of their master, and on the honour of the Scottish nobles,
answered for all that Mary might thereafter attempt, and proposed a
resignation, pure and simple, of her rights to the throne of England, in
favour of her son : " that would be arming my enemy with two rights
' The clergy, and the fanatics ruled by * King James VI. to Archibald Douglas ;
clergy, did not, however, take part in the autograph without date. — British Museum,
general movement.— Calderwood, 214; San Cottonian MS. Caligula, C. IX., 432 ; Robert-
derson, 120 ; Courcelles Despatches, 33-35. son's app.
^ Courcelles Despatches, 8, 11-13, 191 20. ^ Spottiswoode, II., 349-350.
s Mendoga to Philip II., 7th December. — ^ A memorial for his Majesty. — Robertson's
Teulet, v., 436. History, II., app. ; Gray's Papers, 128.
THE KING OF SPAIN DEFENDS MARY, 1587. 87
instead of one, and making him stronger to do me hurt," ' answered
Elizabeth. The word enemy called forth objections from the envoys,
and Elizabeth, somewhat confused, begged them to believe that it was
only a figure of speech. But she turned a deaf ear to the advances of
the ambassadors, accused them of " using cunning" with her, and, with
great fury, scorned the idea of Mary's resignation in favour of her son.
" Is it so," she exclaimed, " then I put myself in a worse case than of
before ; by God's passion, that were to cut my own throat, and for a
dutchy, or an earldom to yourself, you, or such as you, would cause some
of your desperate knaves kill me. No, by God, he shall never be in
that place." She left them with no queenly grace, bidding them tell the
Kijig of Scotland that Elizabeth had always supported him, and that in
forsaking her, he was making a gross blunder. Just as she was leaving,
Robert Melville asked her to spare Mary's life, for at least eight days.
" Nay," replied she, sharply ; "not for an hour."''
James, mad with rage, on learning what had happened, recalled his
envoys. Slander pursued them, as it had pursued the French ambas-
sador. They were accused of seeking the Queen's life ; two pistols,
given in a present to a lord of the Court, supplied the grounds for the
imputation. That negotiation was as unfortunate for Mary as for the
ambassadors. Gray was ruined by the blow ; people report that he
was heard to say to Elizabeth, in speaking of Mary Stuart, that " a
corpse would bite no more." Yet the base intriguer managed to quiet
James VI., keep him from acting in concert with foreign powers, and
bring upon Archibald Douglas the vengeance which threatened to strike
himself: treachery triumphed till the end.^
But of all the Christian Princes, none took more interest in Mary
than the King of Spain. Unfortunately he was powerless; his relations
with England had been broken off. Would to God that all kings had
shown a like firmness ! Elizabeth, isolated and under the weight of the
threats of Europe, would never have dared to commit such a crime.
Philip II., not being on terms with England, was unable to work
efficiently for Mary's safety, and was obliged to have recourse to intimi-
dation. " You can well understand," wrote he to Mendo9a, "my painful
feelings regarding the Queen of Scots ; her courage and her religion
make my grief the keener. Ah ! may God help her as He is used to
help His servants in so great trials ! If she be not executed, and be
^ Mdmoires pour les affaires du Roy, depuis le Partement de M. de Bellifevre.— Teulet, IV., 166.
" A memorial for H.M. — Robertson's app., II., 444 ; Spottiswoode, II., 351 sq.
3 Camden, III., 486. Von Raumer, Briefe aus Paris zur Eriautering der Geschichte, II., 143,
88 ELIZABETH'S DISSEMBLING, 1587.
Still kept in prison, see if it would not be useful, with the view of bring-
ing Elizabeth to her senses, to hint to the English ambassadors resident
in France, that by Mary's death, I should become master of England."'
The threats of Philip II. had no more effect than the representations
of the King of France or the anger of James VI. ; they were all
treated with contempt. Elizabeth was victorious, and Mary was soon
to be no more.
Elizabeth gave throughout proofs of uncommon perfidy. She
yielded in nothing to those who pleaded for Mary ; nay, more, she even
tried to practise on their credulity, that she might have grounds to com-
plain of their conduct and persecute them ; her bitter hatred reached
even to their homes. The poor victim whom she had ruined, and
those who craved her pardon, were equally hated by her ; and with re-
fined hypocrisy, the ruthless Queen wished to be thought innocent, while
she aimed her unpitying darts, worked for and brought about sentence
of death, and already gloated over the thought, that she should be alone
in the world as a Queen and as a woman, after the death of Mary
Stuart, whose grief had never touched her heart, whose good name
she had sullied, and whose entreaties she had spurned. Such acts
would have put to the blush the tyrants of Imperial Rome. Tiberius
and Domitian would have thought themselves accursed after like
savageness.
When Parliament asked the sentence to be carried out, Elizabeth
was the more overjoyed at it, as she believed herself thereby cleared ;
but the prudent and crafty Queen feigned to deliberate betwixt clem-
ency and justice, betwixt attachment for her relative and duty to her
subjects, and took care to hint that, but for the love of her people, she
could never have made up her mind to sign the death-warrant of Mary
Stuart. "So many and so great," said she, "are the unmeasurable
Graces and Benefits bestow'd upon me by the Almighty, that I must
not only most humbly acknowledge 'em as Benefits, but admire 'em as
Miracles, being in no sort able to express 'em. And tho' none alive
can more jusdy acknowledge himself bound to God than I, whose Life
he has miraculously preserv'd from so many Dangers : yet am I not
more deeply bound to give him Thanks for any one thing, than for this
which I will now tell you, and which I account as a Miracle : namely,
That as I came to the Crown with the hearty Good-will of all my
Subjects, so now, after twenty-eight Years Reign, I perceive in 'em the
1 Philip II. to Mendoga, 28th January.— Teulet, V., 462.
QUEEN ELIZABETH'S SPEECH, 1587. 89
same, if not greater Affection towards me ; which should I once lose, I
might perhaps find myself to breathe, but never could I think that
I were alive. And now tho' my Life has been dangerously shot at, yet
I protest there is nothing has more griev'd me, than that one who differs
not from me in Sex, one of like Quality and Degree, of the same Race
and Stock, and so nearly related to me in Blood, should fall into so
great a Misdemeanour. And so far have I been from bearing her any
ill-will, that upon the Discovery of some treasonable Practises against
me, I wrote privately to her, that if she would confess and acknowledge
them by a Letter betwixt her and me, they should be wrapp'd up in
Silence. Neither did I write this with a purpose to intrap her ; for I
knew already as much as she could confess. And even yet, tho' the
matter be come thus far, if she would truly repent, and no Man would
undertake her Cause against me, and if my Life alone depended here-
upon, and not the Safety and Welfare of all my People, I would
(I protest unfeignedly) willingly and readily pardon her. Nay, if
England might, by my Death, obtain a more flourishing Condition, and
a better Prince, I would most gladly lay down my Life. For, for your
Sakes it is, and for my People's, that I desire to live. As for me, I see
no such great Reason (according as I have led my Life) why I should
either be fond to live, or fear to die. I have had good Experience of
this World ; I have known what it is to be a Subject, and I now know
what it is to be a Sovereign. Good Neighbours I have had, and I have
met with bad ; and in Trust I have found Treason. I have bestow'd
Benefits upon Ill-deservers ; and where I have done well, I have been
ill-requited and spoken of. While I call to mind these things past, be-
hold things present, and look forward toward things to come, I count
them happiest that go hence soonest. Nevertheless against such Evils
and Mischiefs as these, I am arm'd with a better Courage than is
common in my .Sex ; so as whatever befalls me, Death shall never find
me unprepar'd."
"And as touching these treasonable Attempts, I will not so far
wrong my self, or the Laws of my Kingdom, as not to think but that
she, having been the Contriver of the said Treasons, was bound and
liable to the ancient and former Laws, and tho' the late Act had never
been made ; which, notwithstanding, was in no sort made to prejudice
her, as divers who are inclined to favour her have imagined. So far
was it from being made to intrap her, that it was rather intended to
forewarn and deter her from attempting any thing against it. But see-
ing it had now the Force of a Law, I thought good to proceed against
VOL. II. M
90 QUEEN ELIZABETH'S SPEECH, 1587.
her according to the same. But you Lawyers are so curious in scanning
the nice Points of the Law, and proceeding according to Forms, rather
than expounding and interpreting the Laws themselves, that if your
way were observed, she must have been indicted in Staffordshire, and
have holden up her Hand at the Bar, and have been try'd by a Jury of
Twelve Men. A proper way, forsooth, of trying a Princess. To avoid,
therefore, such Absurdities, I thought it better to refer the Examination
of so weighty a Cause, to a select Number of the noblest Personages of
the Land, and the Judges of the Realm : and all little enough. For we
Princes are set as it were upon Stages in the Sight and View of all the
World : the least Spot is soon spy'd in our Garments, the smallest
Blemish presently observed in us at a great Distance. It behoves us
therefore to be careful that our Proceedings be just and honourable.
But I must tell you one thing, that by this last Act of Parliament, you
have reduc'd me to such Straits and Perplexities, that I must resolve
upon the Punishment of her who is a Princess so nearly ally'd to me in
Blood, and whose Practices against me have so deeply affected me with
Grief and Sorrow, that I have willingly chosen to absent myself from
this Parliament, lest I should increase my Trouble by hearing the
Matter mention'd ; and not out of Fear of any Danger or treacherous
Attempts against me, as some think. But I will now tell you a farther
Secret (tho' it be not usual with me to blab forth in other cases what I
know). It is not long since these Eyes of mine saw and read an Oath
wherein some bound themselves to kill me within a Month. Hereby I
see your Danger in my Person, which I will be very careful to prevent
and keep off."
" The Association you entered into for my Safety, I have not for-
gotten, a thing I never so much as thought of, till a great number of
Hands and Seals to it were shew'd me. This has laid a perpetual Tie
and Obligation upon me, to bear you a singular Good-will and Love,
who have no greater Comfort than in your and the Commonwealth's
Respect and Affection towards me. But, forasmuch as the matter now
in hand is very rarely exampled, and of greatest Consequence, I hope
you do not look for any present Resolution from me ; for my manner
is, in Matters of less Moment than this, to deliberate long upon that
which is but once to be resolved. In the meantime, I beseech
Almighty God, so to illuminate and direct my Heart, that I may see
clearly what may be best for the Good of His Church, the Prosperity of
the Commonwealth, and your Safety. And, that Delay may not breed
Danger, we will signify our Resolution to you with all conveniency.
QUEEN ELIZABETH'S DISSEMBLING, 1587. 91
And whatever the best of Subjects may expect at the Hands of the
best Princess, that expect from me to be perform'd to the full."
Two days after, the Queen sent Chancellor Bromley to the
Lords, and Puckering to the Commons, to beseech them to seek
together for some loophole by which the Queen of Scots might escape,
while making sure of the safety of the State and her own life. The
Lords and Commons proposed four plans : sincere repentance on the
part of Mary ; her word that she would not again stir, with hostages
as guarantees ; a stricter custody, or exile. Those schemes were set
aside, because true repentance could not be looked for from a Queen
who did not even own her crime, and because imprisonment and hostages
were useless if Elizabeth happened to be killed ; in short, because she,
who from the depths of her prison, kept Europe in a state of alarm,
might set everything a-blaze when she had regained her freedom.' The
Lords and Commons, to a man, called for Mary's death, and if they are
to be held dishonoured by that step, one does not know how to qualify
the words they used, puzzling as it is to find out whether they are the
result of ignominy or madness. " When entering the Association," said
Puckering, " we bound ourselves by oath to kill the Queen of Scots ; if
we do it without warrant, we deserve blame ; if we do not kill her we
are perjured. . . . Wavering on the part of yDur Majesty would
be an offence to God, who has given this wicked Princess into your
hands that you may put her to death. That would be like Saul sparing
Agag, or Ahab forgiving Benhadad. No," exclaimed he, " as it were
Injustice to deny Execution of the Law to any Subject who should
demand it, so much more to the whole Body of the People of England,
unanimously, and with one. Voice, humbly and instantly suing for the
same.
The desire for Mary's death, long pent in the bosoms of the
English, was growing stronger, and was soon to shew itself. Rage
began to burn against the wavering Queen. She was told that her
kindness was akin to weakness, was only a silly forbearance, and that
it showed a wondrously strange indifference to her own safety. The
people, making a parade of their blind affection, loaded the innocent
prisoner with curses, thinking that, a holy as well as patriotic work.
Prayers were offered up to God to work such a change in the heart of
Queen Elizabeth as should bring about what the people wished. ^
' Camden, III., 469, ^ Abridgment of Puckering's Petition, in
' D'Ewes' Journal, 401; Prince Labanoff, D'Ewes' Journal, 401 ; Camden, 470; Howell's
VII., 214. Trials, I., 1 195 sq.
92 QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WORDS IN PARLIAMENT, 1587.
Elizabeth was wild with joy, and yet she was able to hide her delight.
When she answered the Lords and Commons, she twisted her features to
make them rueful, and spoke in a sad yet brisk off-hand manner, which
tore off the mask. " Very unpleasing," said she, " is that Way, where
the Setting out. Progress and Journey's End, yield nothing but Trouble
and Vexation. I have this day been in greater Conflict with myself
than ever I was in all my life, whether I should speak or hold my
peace. If I should speak, and not complain, I shall dissemble ; if I
should be silent, all your Labour and Pains taken were in vain ; and if
I should complain, it might seem a strange and unusual thing. Yet I
confess that my hearty Desire was, that some other means might have
been devised, to provide for your Security and my own Safety, than
this which is now propounded. So that I cannot but complain, tho'
not of you, yet to you, since I perceive by your Petition, that my
Safety depends wholly on the Ruin of another. If there be any that
think I have spun out the time on purpose to get Commendation,
by a seeming show of Clemency, they do me wrong undeservedly, as
He knows, who is the Searcher of the most secret Thoughts of the
Heart. Or if there be any that are persuaded the Commissioners
durst pronounce no other Sentence for fear they should thereby displease
me, or seem to fail of their Care for my Preservation, they do but
burden and wrong me with such injurious Conceits. For either those
whom I put in Trust have fail'd of their Duties ; or else they acquainted
the Commissioners in my Name that my Will and Pleasure was, that
every one should act freely according to his Conscience ; and what they
thought not fit to be made publick, that they should communicate to
me in private. It was of my favourable Inclination towards her that I
desired some other way might be found out, to prevent this Mischief.
But since it is now resolved that my Security is desperate without her
Death, I find a great Reluctancy and Trouble within me, that I, who
have in my time pardon'd so many Rebels, wink'd at so many Treasons,
or neglected 'em by Silence, should now seem to shew myself cruel
towards so great a Princess."
" As touching your Counsels and Consultations, I acknowledge 'em
to have been with such Care and Providence, and so advantageous for
the Preservation of my Life, and to proceed from Hearts so sincere and
devoted to me, that I shall endeavour what lies in my Power, to give
you cause to think your Pains not ill bestowed, and strive to shew
myself worthy of such subjects."
QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WORDS IN PARLIAMENT, 1587. 93
" And now for your Petition, I desire you for the present to content
yourself with an Answer without Answer. Your Judgment I con-
demn not, neither do I mistake your Reasons ; but I must desire
you to excuse those thoughtful Doubts and Cares, which as yet perplex
my mind ; and to rest satisfy'd with the Profession of my thankful
Esteem of your Affections, and the Answer I have given, if you take it
for any Answer at all. If I should say I will not do what you request,
I might say perhaps more than I intend ; and if I should say I will
do it, I might plunge myself into as bad Inconveniences as you
endeavour to preserve me from."'
That studied speech shows clearly that Elizabeth wavered only in
show, and that she wished to have the murder done by authority of the
Lords and Commons ;" so, immediately after the speech. Parliament was
prorogued, lest, doubtless, it might consider Elizabeth's grief real, and
seek some other means of keeping safe, not only the life of the Queen,
but also her seeming tenderness of heart. Mary was to be no longer
thought of; her sentence was ratified, and the wretched lady had now
only to prepare her soul, before meeting death as a criminal, on a
scaffold raised by the hands of her heartless rival.
^ Camden, III., 470 sq. averebbe con ogni efficacia commendata I'ese-
^ " Era noto a Sisto et a tutti i principi che cuzione." — Estratto dagli Annali de Sisto V.,
Isabella niente piu che la morte di lei desi- MS. Archives Secretes du Capitol, a copy,
derava et che sotto specie di non volere ne 2 verso, and 6 recto.
CHAPTER XXV.
1586— 1587.
MARY STUART IS TOLD OF HER SENTENCE — INSOLENCE OF PAULET — NOBLE WORDS OF MARY
— HER LETTERS TO ELIZABETH, POPE SIXTUS V., MENDOCA, ETC. — ELIZABETH'S ANXIETY
— SHE ASKS SIR AMYAS TO MURDER MARY — NOBLE REPLY — DAVISON— ARRIVAL OF THE
EXECUTIONERS AT FOTHERINGAY — BEARING OF MARY STUART — HER LAST SUPPER — THE
EVENING BEFORE THE EXECUTION— THE 8TH OF FEBRUARY — DEATH OF MARY STUART.
T N the foregoing pages I have set forth the efforts made by the Kings
-*- of France, Scotland and Spain to save Mary from death, without,
however, mentioning her, lest I should make the story dark and tangled,
by telling, at one and the same time, what was going on in London and
at Fotheringay. My desire was to give the negotiations in a single
chapter, and then have nothing to do but tell of the matchless
woman whose life I now write : in the last chapter I was forced to
lay aside the order of dates which I had till then followed with great
care and truth, and I must now again take up the story further back.
Since the trial at Fotheringay, Mary, shut up in that Castle, had
heard no news from the outside. A dreadful silence haunted her prison;
countenances were either heedless or awe-struck ; and the stern Paulet
did not know whether he ought to treat her as a Queen or as a criminal.
That seeming lull, telling neither of life nor of death, was worse than
the certainty of the latter. At length, on the .'th of November, the
doors of the dreadful Castle were thrown open for Elizabeth's envoys,
Lord Buckhurst and Beale, Clerk of Council, always a bad messenger.
They told Mary that the States had condemned her, that she must
prepare to die, and that, to assist her, a Bishop or Dean would-be sent'
to her. They, moreover, stated that for two reasons she must die :
Elizabeth's safety, in the first place ; in the next, and of the greatest
moment, the interests of Protestantism. Mary listened to them quietly,
and answered that she thanked God for being called to shed her blood
for so great a cause. The envoys having made her observe that she
should never be either a saint or a martyr, being condemned for having
wished to kill and dethrone Elizabeth, she however defended herself
MARY STUART IS TOLD OF HER SENTENCE, 1587. 95
and denied having approved, advised or ordered a crime so
detestable.'
The next day Paulet and Drue Drury, another keeper of Mary
Stuart, went to the prisoner, blamed her obstinacy in not confessing
her crime, and told her that Elizabeth, driven to extremities, had sent
them orders to take away the dais, and treat her " as a dead woman,
without any honour or queenly dignity." " I am a Queen," said Mary,
" and have been so anointed and consecrated : from God I hold that
dignity, to Him alone I shall give it up with my life. I by no means
recognise your Queen as my superior, nor her heretic counsellors as my
judges : despite their efforts, I shall die a Queen. They have no more
power over me than thieves in the corner of a wood : God, I hope, will
take up my cause and make His justice shine forth. Besides, I shall
die with my right, like Richard and so many other Princes of this
kingdom, unjustly put to death." ^
Paulet flattered himself that he could get the dais taken down by
the captive's servants. He gave them orders to that effect, but, instead
of obeying, they cursed the gaoler, so that he had at last to call in his
soldiers, and make them remove that last vestige of degraded royalty,
and, with it, all respect vanished : Paulet sat covered in the presence of
the Queen of Scots. In the face of such an affront, the victim forgot
not that she was a Christian, and at the spot where formerly had shone
the proud arms of Scotland, she had an humble crucifix put up.^
Forsaken by all, degraded and basely outraged, Mary now thought
only of bidding farewell to the earth she was about to leave. Her first
thought was for Elizabeth.' " Madam," she wrote to her, " I thank God
with all my heart that He has been pleased, through your sentence, to
end this, my weary pilgrimage. I do not wish it to be longer, as I have
had but too much time to feel its bitterness. This, only, I entreat of
your Majesty, that since I am to look for no favour from those zealous
ministers who are in the first rank in the State of England, I may be
indebted to you alone for the blessings which follow." She then begged
that she might be executed in public, and that her body be taken to
France and buried in holy ground."*
She then wrote to the Pope, protesting her inviolable attachment to
the Catholic faith, told him of her resignation, asked him for his bless-
' Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow, ^ Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow,
24th Nov. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 466 sq. 24th November. — Prince Labanofif, VI., 469,
' Caussin, Jebb, 11., 91; Prince Labanoff, 470.
VI., 464; Dargaud, 407. " Jebb, II., 91.
96 MARY'S lAST LETTERS.
ing and prayers, and, lastly, commended to his care her " poor chilci,"
begging him to be to her boy a "true father, as St John the Evangelist
was to the youth whom he saved from the company of thieves."
" Behold," she added, " the secret of my heart and the end of my
worldly desires, anxious, as you see, for the good of the Church and
the discharge of my conscience, which I lay at the feet of your holi-
ness."' Her letters to Mendoga, the Duke de Guise and the Arch-
bishop of Glasgow, show a resignation no longer savouring of this
world. She speaks of her death with touching calmness. " I know
neither how nor when I may die," said she ; " but at least you can
assure and praise God for me that, through His grace, I have gladly
received that very unjust sentence of the heretics because of the happi-
ness I feel in shedding my blood at the call of the enemies of His
Church. . . . They are working in tny room, and are, I think,
making a scaffold whereon I shall play the last act of the tragedy."^
There was no bitter word ; and if something still reminded her of the
earth, it was the fate of her son being trained up in heresy, and that
of her servants. " Farewell, once more," said she to Mendoqa, " I
again recommend to you my poor desolate servants, and please you
pray God for my soul."^ Those sweet sentiments were still with her,
without robbing her of peace of mind ; they served to make her only
the more interesting.
It is especially in her letter to the Duke de Guise that Mary
unfolds with most simplicity the feelings which animated her. " My
good Cousin," says she to him, " the dearest I have in the world, I bid
you adieu, being, by an unjUst sentence, about to meet death in a way
such as none of our race, thanks be to God, has ever been made to do,
far less one of my quality ; btlt, my good Cousin, praise God for it, for,
placed as I was, I have been unable to do anything for God and His
Church ; and I hope my death may testify my constancy in the faith
and my readiness to die for the good and restoration of the Catholic
Church in this unfortunate island ; and though no axe ever drank our
blood, be not ashamed of it, my friend, for the judgment of heretics and
enemies of the Church, and of those who have no jurisdiction over me,
a free Queen, does good, in the eyes of God, to the children of His
Church. If I had joined them, this blow should not have fallen upon
me. All those of our house have been persecuted by that sect : witness
' Mary Stuart to Pope Sixtus V., 23d Nov. » Mary Stuart to Mendoga, 23d November.
—Prince Labanoff, VI., 453, 454. —Prince Labanoff, VI., 458, 459.
^ Idem, ibid., 461.
MARY STUART WRITES TO THE ARCHBISHOP OF GLASGOW, 1586. 97
your good father, whom I hope to meet by the mercy of the great
Judge. I now recommend to you my servants, the payment of my
debts and the founding of some yearly obit for my soul, not at your
expense, but according to the request and order which you shall learn
from my poor desolate servants, eye-witnesses of the end of my tragic
life."
" May God grant prosperity to you, your wife, children, brothers
and cousins, and especially to our chief, my good brother and cousin
(the Duke de Lorraine), and all his ; may the blessing of God, and that
which I would give my children, rest upon yours, whom I commend to
God, not less than I do my own son, unfortunate and misguided though
he is."
" You shall receive from me tokens to remind you to say a prayer
for the soul of your poor Cousin, shut out from all advice and aid, except
that of God, who gives me strength and courage alone to keep at bay
so many wolves howling after me : God's be the glory of it ! " . . .
" I have suffered much for two years and more, but I would not let
you know for important reasons. God be praised for all, and grant you
grace to cling to the service of His Church as long as you live, and may
that honour never leave our race ; may we, men and women as many
as we are, be ready to shed our blood to uphold the faith, casting aside
all worldly thoughts ; as for me, I consider myself by my birth,
both on my father's and on my mother's side, bound to give up my
blood for the holy cause, and I think not of deserting the standard of
the Holy Mother Church. Jesus, and all the holy martyrs crucified
for us, make us, through their intercession, worthy of the free offering
of our lives for His glory ! " '
The poor Queen, so often forsaken by men, would not forsake any
one. Lest her wishes might not be fulfilled, she tried to impress them
on the minds of all those to whom she wrote : " I commend to you my
poor servants, so often commended already," wrote she to the Arch-
bishop of Glasgow ; " again I commend them to you in the name of
God. They have lost all, losing me. Bid them farewell from me, and
console them by charity. Commend me to la Ruhe ; ^ remind him that
I promised him to die for religion, and tell him I have kept my word.
I beg for myself the prayers of all of his order."
" I am very pleased, and have always been, at the thought of laying
down my life for the salvation of the souls of this island. Adieu for
1 Mary Stuart to the Duke de Guise, 24th November. — Prince Labanoff, VI., 462 sq.
^ Her former chaplain j
VOL. II. N
98 MARY'S LETTER TO ELIZABETH, 1587.
the last time, and cherish the remembrance of the soul and honour of
her who was your Queen, mistress and good friend ; and if, through
hearsay, or other learning of your services, I found any fault with you,
I now forgive and beg you, and all my servants, to forgive me for all
that I may have done, whether justly or unjustly angry, protesting that
I hold none of you in any way guilty towards me ; for I should feel,
especially as regards you, the principal and oldest of my servants,
constrained to acknowledge your own services, if God granted me
longer days ; for want of those, I shall pray God that, at the end of my
life, he may reward you for me. God be with you and all my servants,
whom I leave to you as children." '
Three weeks had gone since she heard her sentence, but she had
not, as yet, received any further tidings, either good or bad. The lone-
liness in which she was after the excitement at Fotheringay, broken in
upon for a moment by the arrival of Buckhurst and Beale, had begun
again. " Silence more dreadful than severest sounds " was around her.
Mary knew not what to think of quiet so unbroken ; but, well aware of
the deceit of the ministers, she feared lest they might try to get rid of
her in some stealthy way, either by the dagger or by poison. She,
in consequence, wrote to Elizabeth and told of her fears and feelings.
The letter, written on the steps of the scaffold, is stamped with
supreme sadness and also with sovereign grandeur : " Madam," says
she, " in honour of Jesus (Whose Name all powers obey) I pray you
after my enemies shall have quenched their burning thirst with my
innocent blood, to allow my poor forlorn servants to have my body to
bury in holy ground near some of my relatives who are in France, near,
I pray you, the late Queen, my mother ; I ask you that favour, because
in Scotland the bodies of the Kings, my ancestors, have been outraged,
and the churches destroyed and profaned, and also because, suffering
in this country, I cannot be laid beside your forefathers, who are mine
also ; and, moreover, because, by our religion, we much value being
buried in sanctified ground. Again, since I have been told that you
wish in no way to force my conscience in religion, and have even
granted me a priest, I hope you will not refuse me this last request,
but grant free burial to the body from which the soul shall have risen,
seeing that, while united, they never could live in peace, though your
peace were thereby made secure : I do not impute it to you as a crime
before God ; but may the whole truth dawn upon you after my death,
1 Mary to the Archbishop of Glasgow, 24th November.— Prince Labanoff, VI., 471, 472.
MARY'S LETTER TO ELIZABETH, 1587. 99
Considering also, that I dread the secret tyranny of several in whose
hands you have left me, I pray that you will not allow me to be put to
death without your knowledge ; not from any fear of the torture which
I am about to endure, but through dread of the rumours, sure to be
spread, if death should come, and none trustworthy nigh ; such has
already happened, I am sure, to others of various ranks. That is why
I desire that my servants be near me at the last, as eye-witnesses of
my death, and of my faith in our Saviour and of my obedience to His
Church, and that they together bear away my body as secretly as it
may please you, and also take the movables or other things I may
bequeath to them ; poor trifles when weighed against their good
services. As for the jewel which I received from you, shall I send it
back to you with my last words, or even sooner ? I again entreat you
to allow me to send a jewel and a last farewell to my son, with my last
blessing which he had not, as you informed me that he had refused to
sign a treaty in which I should be included ; by the hapless advice of
what persons ? I leave this last point to your heart and conscience.
As for the others, I entreat you in the name of Jesus Christ, in the
name of our kindred, in the name of Henry VII., your forefather and
mine, I entreat you by the high dignity which we have held, and by
your woman's heart, to grant my prayer."
" I think, moreover, you must have heard that, in your name, my
dais has been pulled down. I was afterwards told that it was not done
by your command, but by order of some of your councillors. I pray
God that such a cruel order, serving only to do mischief and grieve me
in my preparation for death, did not come from you. I think it has
been thus in many other things, and fear liberty to write you has been
withheld till I should be dragged down as low as can be from my
royalty and high estate, my keepers telling me the while, that I was
nothing but an ordinary woman dead to all civil rights and shorn of all
my honours."
" God be praised for all ! " '
Elizabeth did not answer that letter. She could not have answered
it, even had she wished to do so. The sentence passed on the Queen
of Scots and the embassies from Princes had given rise to a number of
reports which were added to, day by day. The people, sunk in fear,
felt an unspeakable uneasiness ; secret terrors plied individuals and
families, and the ministers, instead of allaying the general fear, again
^ Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, 19th December. — Prince Labanoff, VL, 476-479.
100 ELIZABETH'S ANXIETY, 1587.
inflamed the public mind. The wildest rumours were welcomed with
feverish greediness ; the people dared not breathe ; fright overmastered
courage. It was said the Spanish fleet was already in Milford Haven,
and that the Duke de Guise was in Sussex with a numerous army ;
that the Queen of Scots had been seen at the head of Scottish troops ;
that the North was in revolt, and that th'e enemy was marching on
London ; some even asserted that Elizabeth had just expired under
the dagger, and that London was on fire.' Those false rumours
seemed the more undoubted, as they had been rife at the time of the
Babington Conspiracy. The people, in general, believed that the
conspiracy was not over, though it had failed, and that the taking of
the conspirators had only delayed the course of events ; the falsity of
the first reports confirmed the second.
The courtiers, wayward by nature, saw their advantage, and demanded
Mary's death, in the interests of the country and the Queen. They
supported their reasons by domestic arguments ; the history of England,
unfortunately, provided them with only too many. From Henry 1.
down to Henry VHL the chain of assassinations was many-linked.
Whether it be from malice or scruple, Elizabeth was undecided : she
had entirely given up pleasures and rejoicings. Her face had become
gloomy. She was often seen wandering in out of the way places, and
while fiercely arguing with herself, was heard to say these dreadful
words, "Aidfer aut feri (Suffer on or be killed), to which she added,
"Ne feriare, feri" (Kill, lest you be killed). The words showed the
thought. She would have some one rid her noiselessly of her trouble-
some rival, but Thomas a Becket's time was long gone by. The
courtiers pitied her, but none made up his mind to befriend her.
But conscience, the " innate whisperer," was not eased by those
bursts of passion, and she sent for Secretary Davison. He went to the
Palace with the warrant for Mary's execution ready drawn out by
Burghley. Elizabeth read it over, at once signed it,^ and handed it
back to the Secretary, saying, " Go and tell Walsingham what I have
just done ; only, I fear he will be very much grieved on learning the
sad news; and yet," added she, "Paulet and Drury might have relieved
me of this burden : you and Walsingham ought to sound their disposi-
tions." ^ She sent away the Secretary, forbidding him ever again to
1 Camden, III., 486; Ellis, 11. , iii., 107, signed it." — Davison's Apology, Chalmers,
109. III., 618.
2 " I delivered it unto her hands ; after the ' Davison's Apology, ibidem, 621.
reading whereof, she, calling for pen and ink,
ELIZABETH ASKS PAULET TO MURDER MARY, 1587. loi
speak to her of a matter with which she did not wish to be troubled
further. On the same day, Walsingham and Davison wrote to Paulet
and Drue Drury an abominable letter, in which they reproached them
with indifference for Elizabeth, and their little fidelity to their oath,
since, despite the Act of Association, they had not found, without any
fresh provocation, the means of taking the life of the Queen of Scots ;
"And therefore," said they, " H. M. taketh it most unkindly, that men
professing that love towards her that you do, should in a kind of sort,
for lack of the discharge of your duties, cast the burden upon her, know-
ing, as you do, her indisposition to shed blood, especially of one of that
sex and quality, and so near to her in blood as the said Queen is,"
They concluded by leaving the matter to their " good judgments," and
commending them " to the protection of the Almighty." '
Paulet treated the letter with the contempt it merited ; but he was
at the same time much grieved. Led away by fierce fanaticism, the
harsh Puritan could become the stern, unpitying gaoler; but he was too
much the man of honour to consent to play the part of assassin. He
answered Walsingham : " Sir, your letters of yesterday morning coming
to my hands this present day at 5 p.m., I would not fail, according to
your direction, to return my answer with all possible speed ; which I
shall deliver unto you with great grief and bitterness of mind, in that
I am so unfortunate as living to see this unhappy day, in which I am
required, by direction from my most gracious Sovereign, to do an act
which God and the law forbiddeth. My goods and living and life are
at her Majesty's disposition, and I am ready to lose them the next
morrow, if it shall please her, acknowledging that I do hold them as
of her meer and most gracious favour, and do not design to enjoy
them, but with her Highness good liking ; but God forbid I should
make so foul a shipwreck of my conscience, or leave so great a blot to
my poor posterity, and shed blood without law or warrant.
Drw Drury subscribeth in heart to my opinion." ^
Such a blank refusal compelled Elizabeth to change her plans. Her
object now was to drive Davison into the fatal track which Paulet had
just left so nobly, and thus have a victim on whose shoulders she might
lay all the blame. Even before Elizabeth knew the nature of Paulet's
reply, she had sworn, in order to cast the stigma from off herself, to make
the poor Secretary the scapegoat. She blamed him for too great haste
1 Walsingham and Davison to Sir Amyas ^ Paulet's answer to Walsingham's letter. —
Paulet and Drue Drury. — Mackenzie's Lives, Mackenzie, III., 341.
III., 340.
102 DAVISON, 1587,
in affixing the seal to the warrant, although she herself had, on the day
before, given him the formal order to do so, while on the 3d of February
(o.s.) she told him that she dreamt she had severely punished him for
the death of the Queen of Scots. Those words, trifling as they were,
alarmed Davison ; he thought he saw in them a foreboding of his fate.
He therefore asked Elizabeth whether, or not, she intended to proceed
with the execution of the warrant. " Yes, indeed," replied the Queen,
supporting her words with a stiff oath.
Such was Elizabeth's resolution, when Davison brought her Paulet's
answer ; after scanning it over, she gave vent to her displeasure in very
bitter words. " I detest," she said, " the niceness of those precise
fellows who are all words, not deeds." Davison remarked that Sir
Amyas could not put the Queen of Scots to death without seriously
compromising the English government, while for Elizabeth to allow the
murder in secret, was to blast her reputation for ever, and, to punish the
keeper of Mary, was to strike a faithful servant. Elizabeth thought the
advice out of place, abruptly left the Secretary, and never again spoke
to him on the subject.'
Davison, a prey to uncertainty, and dreading prosecution by his
Sovereign, appealed to the lords of Council, to get from them a reply
which might clear him. The reply was, that he must send off the war-
rant and have it executed. The Secretary silently complied, and
handed it to Beale, Clerk of the Council, with a letter signed by
Burghley, Leicester and Walsingham, commanding the Earls of
Shrewsbury and Kent to see the execution carried out.
The arrival of Beale spread terror among the servants of the
prisoner Queen. They wondered what fearful tidings the ill-omened
messenger now brought ; but, learning nothing on the morrow, they
became calm again. On the 7th, in the morning, the Earls of Kent and
Shrewsbury, and the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, came one after the
other. There was now no longer any doubt that Mary was about to
be put to death. The unwonted thronging, and especially the coming
of the Earl of Shrewsbury, Grand Marshal of England, charged to
carry out executions, turned their dread into certainty.
At two o'clock, the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury sent word to the
Queen that they wished to speak with her. Mary answered that feel-
ing unwell, she had kept her bed, but that if the commission did not
admit of delay, she would rise to hear it. On their reply, she got up
' Davison's Apology. — Chalmers, TIL, 630, 631.
THE EXECUTIONERS AT FOTHERINGAY, 1587. 103
and seated herself at a small work-table placed near her bed ; her
servants and maids stood around her. The Earl of Shrewsbury, his
head uncovered, then informed her that the sentence pronounced
against her, was about to be carried out, and that the Queen of England
had seen herself forced to let matters take their course to satisfy the
imperious demands of her subjects. Beale then read the warrant which
condemned her " as much on account of the Gospel and true religion of
Christ as for the peace and quiet of the State."' When he had done,
Mary made the sign of the cross : " God be praised," said she, " for the
happy news which you bring me. I could receive none better, since
I am about to quit this world where I have suffered so much, and
since I die for the Catholic Apostolic and Roman faith. I did not
think that the Queen, my sister, would consent to the death of a
Princess who is not under your laws ; but since such is her good
pleasure, I am willing to die : if this body cannot bear the executioner's
blow, the soul must be unworthy of heaven. Besides, if one thing
consoles me in presence of the ignominy of the scaffold, it is the cause
for which I die." She spoke on for a long time with great spirit, then
resting her hand on the Gospel lying on the table, she denied all part
in the conspiracy against the life of Elizabeth. " Your Papist book is
false," exclaimed the Earl of Kent, "and your oath as false as the
book." " It is the book of my faith," rejoined the Queen, " and it is a
good book : Do you think my oath would be better if taken on your
heretic book in which I do not believe."
She then begged the commissioners to allow her to speak with her
confessor, but that, the Earl of Kent refused, offering her, however, the
Bishop or the Dean of Peterborough, that she might profit by their
teaching and abjure before dying, "her papistical follies and childish
abominations." "I have already consented," replied Mary, "to hear
the most learned of your ministers, and have talked and argued with
them. I have done so through condescension and I repent it
far from converting me, their language has only strengthened me in my
faith. I have seen in the new heresy, only blasphemy and falsehood,
1 It is remarkable that the sentence, contrary incurred by the subjects and to be incurred by
to the usual form, does not say that Mary was their posterity, is then assimilated to the
convicted of attempting the life of Elizabeth, Aanger -v/hich has threatened ajid. mighi threaten
but only that " la detention d'icelle estoit the Queen, and Mary has been condemned as
et seroit iournellement un certain et Evident dangerous, not as guilty. I am of opinion that
danger non pas seulement pour nostra vie the sentence speaks truly, and that it is just in
(Elizabeth speaks) mais aussi k eux-'mesmes its bearing.— Jebb, II., 613.
(her subjects) et k leur postdritd." The danger
104 BEARING OF MARY STUART, 1587.
and among its authors, none save voluptuous people, seeking only their
liberty and ease, varnished consciences, and famous doctors, whose
teaching rests on a foundation as brittle as the ice of one night's frost.
During that discourse, Mary had inflamed herself with zeal ; the
sight of a scaffold gave her superhuman energy and ardour, instead of
making her grow pale and dumb. On the eve of martyrdom, she was
already filled with strength from on High. Her brow was lighted up with
a divine flame, and her language was keen and cutting as a two-edged
sword. " God," continued she, " has given me the grace to hold firmly
to my religion ; it is not now the time to doubt or change or allow my
faith to be shaken. On the contrary, if that moment ever befel me, the
time has now come to show myself more firm, more constant and more
affectionate. Rather than recant, I would give a thousand lives if I had
them, I would shed the last drop of my precious blood, and endure the
most frightful tortures and most refined cruelties.' Happy indeed I am
to have to suffer so much for my God and my religion : no, no, My
Lords, bid me not again recant ; give me rather my chaplain, and let me
prepare for death. O! grant that, my last request!" The Earl of Kent
refused, and again insisted that she should receive the clergymen ;
getting no reply, he spitefully exclaimed : " your life would be the death
of our religion, your death shall be its salvation." Then touched by the
prisoner's nobleness of soul, and ashamed of having lost his temper, he
added that the zeal and care, which he had for her salvation, had made
him speak thus.
Mary did not answer. She gently thought of the morrow. " When
is the execution to take place ?" asked she of the Earl of Shrewsbury.
" To-morrow, at eight o'clock," answered the Earl with a faltering voice.
Mary then inquired about the feelings of her son, and about the Kings,
her relatives, asked for her chaplain, and spoke of her will, her funeral
and her servants ; she desired that each should be allowed to go home
with the little she should leave them. The Earls made no definite
reply, excused themselves on the grounds of powerlessness, and pro-
mised to have her last wishes carried^ out as best they could.
Without loss of time, Mary began to settle the order of her last day.
' Nineteen years before Don Frances de 1570: " quod omnipotentis Dei benignitati ac
Alava wrote to Philip II., "que ella estavd misericordie sic confidere videtur ut firmiter
firme en la fee aunque la hagan pedagos," 30th speret se nuUis neque periculorum ac tormen-
October 1 568 ; Teulet, V., 43, and 4th March, torum denuntiationibus, neque premiorum
1570 ; que la dicha viviria y moriria constantis- poUicitationibus, ab Ecclesias Cathohcae com-
sima en la fee catholica." — Ibidem, 54. Pope munione atque obedientia avelli possit." —
Pius V. congratulated Mary on the 13th July, Teulet, V., 62.
HER LAST SUPPER, 1587. 105
First, she ordered supper to be ready earlier than usual, that she might
have more time to pray God, and see to her affairs, and, as she
noticed her servants melting into tears, she said to them : " My
children, there is no further need to weep ; it is of no avail ; what
now do you fear ? you ought, much rather, to rejoice at seeing me
about to be freed from the many ills and sorrows which I have borne
so long : I am worthless in this world, I can do no good to any one ;
be consoled then with me, that God has allowed me to die for so good
a cause : I am grateful to Him, and thank Him from my inmost heart,
that it has pleased Him to call me at this hour, and that He has given
me to die for His Holy Name, His True Religion, and His Church:
a greater blessing could not be mine in this world."'
All the men then went out of her chamber, sobbing. Mary
remained alone with her maids of honour, prayed for a long time, and
then divided her money among her servants. The supper hour having
struck, she sat down, ate little, as was her wont, and calmly spoke of
her death ; then addressing Bourgoin, her physician, she said that she
was glad to die for her religion, and that the Earl of Kent had brought
her most welcome news, and added, smiling, that it would have taken
a more learned man than he was, to convert her. While she spoke,
Bourgoin, deeply moved, burst into tears. He could not bear the
thought, that on the morrow, Mary must die, that this supper was her
last meal, that the next dawn should light up the mournful scene, and
that he should never again behold his beloved mistress.
At the end of the supper, Mary sent for her servants, and having
poured out some wine into a cup, she drank to their health, and invited
them to drink to her salvation. They all knelt down weeping, and
raised to their lips the cups, in which their tears mingled with the wine.
She asked them to forgive her, as she forgave them. " My children,"
said she to them, " I am about to leave you. I pray you be ever
firm and constant in your religion, and let there never be among you the
least enmity or the slightest jealousy : forget your feuds, and live together
henceforth as brethren." Some one having told her that they should
agree so much the better as Nau was no longer among them, " He,"
answered the Queen, "is the cause of my death;'' I die for him; yet
1 "Vousvoyez," continued she, "n'estesvous notoire, qu'ils ont tousiours craint que si je
pas tesmoings maintenant pourquoy ils me viuois, ils ne seroient iamois seurs de leur
font mourir? Considdrez pourquoy ils ont religion." — J ebb, II,, 265.
appoint^ le Comte de Kent, avec sa dispute et * Those around Mary Stuart, and Mary her-
ses propos de religion : n'ont ils pas main- self, were persuaded that Nau had slandered
tenant descouvert leur intention .-' n'est-il pas his mistress.
VOL. II. O
io6 THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EXECUTION, 1587.
I forgive him if he be willing to own his fault, and behave better in
future." She bade all, especially those who bore the name of Nau, to
do the same. Immediately afterwards, she parted her linen and silver-
plate, gave letters of discharge to those who asked them, and then
withdrew into her chamber. She wrote to her chaplain : " I have been
challenged to-day in my religion, and attempts have been made to force
me to receive the consolation of the heretics. You will hear from
Bourgoin, and others will tell you, that at least I have faithfully stood
firm by my faith, in which I will die. I asked that you might be
allowed to be near me for my confession and sacrament ; I have been
cruelly refused in that, and also about the disposal of my body. I am
forbidden to bequeath freely, or to write anything except what shall
pass through their hands, or be agreeable to their mistress. On account
of that, I now confess in writing the greatness of my sins, as I had
intended to do in the confessional, and I implore you, in the name of
God, to pray for me, and watch over me this night ; to pray for my
redemption through his blood, to send me absolution, and to forgive all
hurt I have done you. I shall endeavour to see you in presence of
them and the house steward, a favour they have granted me, and, if
allowed, I shall, before all, on my bended knees, ask your blessing.
Advise me of the most fitting prayers for this night, and for to-morrow
morning."
Having settled as best she could the affairs of her conscience, she
turned to those of her household, and wrote her will, appointing the
Duke de Guise, chief executor. None of her servants, not even Nau,
was forgotten. About to quit the earth, that tender-hearted Princess
would not leave her servants in want. She was not rich, and the little
she had she gave gladly; but, after her death, what would become
of her household ? In thinking of their future, she forgot herself,
and no longer thought of the frightful morrow. Unable to do more,
she wrote to the King of France this sad and last letter : — " This day,
after dinner, my sentence was announced to me without further
ceremony. I am to be executed as a criminal to-morrow at eight
o'clock in the morning. I have not had leisure to give you full parti-
culars of all that has taken place, but if it please you to believe my
physician, and my other desolate servants, you shall hear the truth ;
and that, thanks to God, I dread not death, and faithfully protest to
meet it guildess of all crime, though I should be their subject, which I
never was ; my love for the Catholic religion, and the maintenance of
the right which God gave me to that Crown, are the two points of my
THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EXECUTION, 1587. 107
condemnation. And yet they will not allow me to say that it is for
religion that I die, but through fear of change of theirs, and as a proof,
they have taken from me my chaplain, who, though he be in the house,
has not been allowed to hear my confession, or give me communion
before death ; on the contrary, they have earnestly pressed me to
receive the consolation and doctrine of their minister, brought for that
purpose. The bearer, and those who accompany him, for the most
part your subjects, will inform you of my behaviour in this, my last
act. It remains for me to entreat you as a very Christian King, my
brother-in-law, and former ally, you who have so often done me the
honour to assure me of your love, that on this occasion you give me
proofs on all those points, of your virtue ; the one, for_charity's sake, by
aiding me, so as to discharge me and my conscience in that which I
cannot do without you, namely, in rewarding my desolate servants, by
giving them their wages ; the other, by having God prayed for a
Queen who has been named very Christian, who dies a Catholic, and
deprived of all her goods. As for my son, I recommend him to you
as much as he may deserve, for I cannot answer for him ; for my
servants, I entreat you fervently; I have made bold to send you two
pebbles rare for health, for I wish yoiir life may be long and happy ; you
will kindly receive them as from your very affectionate sister-in-law."
" Dying and bearing witness of my love for you, I shall in a note
commend to you my servants ; and I order that for my soul's sake it
may please you to pay in part what you owe me, and I entreat you,
for Jesus' sake, to whom I shall pray for you on the morning of my
death, to give me wherewith to found an obit, and provide the neces-
sary alms."'
It was about two in the morning when she placed her will and
letters, open, in a box, saying that she had now nothing else to do but
pray to God and think of her soul. After that she had her feet
washed. She then sought in the " Life of the Saints," a book which
she read every evening along with her maids, for the life of some
great guilty one whom God had pardoned. She stopped at the
penitent thief: " He has been a great sinner," said she, with a
humility which this haughty century will have difficulty in understand-
ing, "^ " but not so great as I am ; in memory of the Passion of our
1 Mary Stuart to the Duke de Guise, 8th with which Mary has been charged. It suffices
February 1587. — J ebb, 11., 629. to open any edition of the " Life of the Saints "
' Many authors have erroneously taken to find words as strong uttered by personages
those words for a confession of the crimes Whom all recognise as irreproachable.
io8 THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EXECUTION, 1587.
Saviour, I pray that the Lord may remember me, and have mercy on
me, as He remembered and had mercy on the poor thief at the hour
of death."
Watching and anxiety had wearied her. Fearing she might look
downcast, and seem bereft of strength at the supreme moment, she went
to bed. She was soon asleep : her maids continued to pray beside her.
That last night spent upon earth, betwixt the afflictions of a cruel
parting and the terrors of a scaffold, was a most peaceful one. The
Queen seemed already in possession of everlasting bliss. Though
her eyes were closed, a slight movement of the lips showed that she
still prayed. Her face, lighted up by heartfelt rapture, beamed with
celestial fire ; never was it seen more bright or heavenly.
Her first thought on awaking was of eternity ; it was already six in the
morning, and time was precious. " I have now but two hours to spend
here below," said she to her maids. She wished to put on her richest
costume for the last pomp of royalty, and chose, as a bandage for her
eyes, on the scaffold, a handkerchief with a fringe of gold.' She then
called her servants, read her will to them, gave among them what she
had left, bade them farewell, embraced her women and allowed her
servants to kiss her hand, with real kindness and grace, while showing
not the least sadness. She again wrote to the King a few lines about
her last wishes, and laid down her pen.
From that moment her thoughts never wandered from heaven.
She retired into her oratory and read with great fervour the prayers of
the dying. Her servants, around her, prayed, weeping floods of tears.
A knock at the door broke in upon those prayers. " What is wanted
of me ? " asked the Queen. She was told that the lords awaited her
Majesty. " It is not yet time," said she ; "let them return at the hour
appointed." Bourgoin took advantage of the pause to point out to the
Queen that the names of Mesdemoiselles de Beauregard and de Maubrun
were not in the will, and that her chaplain also had been forgotten.
Mary wrote their names on the will, and went again to pray along with
Elizabeth Curie and Jane Kennedy.
The fatal hour was drawing near. Mary, more earnest in her
1 M. Dargaud, with the rare artistic talent coquetry, but a rare Christian sentiment. "Si
which characterizes him, will have it that the fece da una delle damigelle velare gl'occhi con
handkerchief was " brodd de chardons d'or." uno di quei pannicelli sacri, che per servire ,a
No account gives that particular. That sent ricevere nel S'" Sacrifieio della Missa il corpo
to Sixtus v., which I have already had occa- del signore chiamamo corporate, et era finis-
sion to quote, shows us, in the choice that simo et tutto altorno ricamato d'oro."— 13
Mary made of that linen, not a thought of verso.
THE 8th of FEBRUARY 1587. 109
prayers and yearnings, beat her breast, asked pardon of God for her
sins, offered Him the sacrifice of her Hfe, and, opening a small ciborium,
administered the Communion to herself" It was a solemn sight! a
sight worthy of the Angels, but one which the human eye was un-
worthy to behold ! Mary stood for a long time, her thoughts rivetted
on God. When she rose, her face beamed with great grandeur and
serenity. The victim was ready for the sacrifice. While waiting for
the executioners, Mary approached the fire, for it was cold. " I think,
my friends," said she to her maids, " that I must eat something, that I
may do nothing unworthy of me, and that my heart do not fail me."
Her physician advised her to take a little bread and wine which he had
prepared for her ; she willingly partook of a little of it, from her heart
thanked him, and, after a few minutes, eight o'clock struck. Mary again
said to her maids that she wished no other glory after death than that
they should tell, in France, of her firmness. " I know," added she, with
sadness, " that to see me end my life on the scaffold so tragically must
be for you a heart-rending sight ; but I am anxious you should be
witnesses of my death, so that you may faithfully speak of it when I
am no more."
As she finished, there was another knock at the door. Her women,
aware that the knell of death had tolled, shrank from opening the door :
Mary noticed it. " My friends," said she to them, " it is of no use ;
open." The door having been opened, Andrews, the Sheriff of North-
ampton, entered ; he was clad in mourning, and held in his hand a
white rod. " Madam," said he to Mary, " the lords have sent me to
you." " Well, I am ready," replied the Queen, rising, Bourgoin then
handed to Mary her small ivory crucifix ; the Queen thanked him,
kissed the crucifix, and had it carried before her while she, supported
by Bourgoin, proceeded towards the door.
A sad delicacy, however, vexed the poor physician : he mentioned
it to the Queen. " Madam," said he to her, " your Majesty is aware of
our affection and good-will, and we are still, even now, ready to do any-
thing for you, but it wrings our hearts to lead you whither you go, and
to hand you over to your enemies ; pray excuse us. As for accompanying
you, we shall do so willingly, and assist you till your last breath. How
happy should we be if we could share your fate." " You are right,"
answered Mary, who, then, addressing the Sheriff, said, " My servants
do not wish to lead me to death : I can scarcely walk ; have me helped
1 Proofs,- IL
no THE 8th of FEBRUARY 1587.
a little." Andrews called some soldiers whom Paulet had sent to drag
the Queen to the scaffold, if she resisted, and ordered them to help the
prisoner ; her servants followed, weeping bitterly.
On reaching the staircase, the procession stopped, and guards
drove back the Queen's servants. It was a heart-rending scene. The
servants uttered plaintive cries, and clung fondly to the hands and
garments of their mistress, bade her farewell, entreated her not to
leave them, wished to die with her, and offered in her behalf those
useless requests which grief calls forth when the insatiable maw of
the tomb is open. Strength and threats overpowered their resist-
ance ; they were driven back into the Queen's apartments, and there
shut in.
In the midst of that scene of desolation, Mary gave proofs of great
firmness ; she not only found strength in her heart to master her grief,
but also was able to speak words of consolation and encouragement to
her servants. Then, with crucifix in one hand and prayer-book and
handkerchief in the other, she went forward anew.
At the foot of the stair, she met her purveyor, Andrew Melville,
whom she had not seen for three weeks : he came to bid her a last fare-
well. On seeing his much-loved Queen led to death, his heart failed
him ; deeply moved and vainly trying to stifle his grief, he rushed
towards her. "Ah ! Madam," exclaimed he, " ah ! how wretched am I !
Had ever man to carry a more painful message than that with which I
am charged ? Must I then return to my country only to tell the world
that my good mistress, my Sovereign, is no more, and that I have seen
her fall by the axe of the executioner ? " With those words he sank
and fell on his knees, choked by grief. Mary almost gave way to her
keen emotion. " My good servant," said she to him, " cease to lament.
Thou hast more reason to rejoice than to grieve, since thou seest the
end of Mary Stuart's afflictions drawing nigh. Oh ! my good servant
learn that all here below is but vanity, that all is poisoned with bitter-
ness, and that this earth is biit a vast ocean of sorrows and tears.
But, I pray thee, tell this about me, that I die true to my religion, to
Scotland and to France. Let God pardon those who have so long
wished for my death and thirsted for my blood as the hart panteth
after the water brooks. Oh ! God," added she, " Thou who art the
Author of all truth and Truth itself. Thou knowest the innermost
recesses of my heart, and that I have never wished but the union of
Scotland and England. Melville," said she again, " remember me to
my son ; tell him that I have never done anything hurtful to the King-
THE 8th of FEBRUARY 1587. m
dom of Scotland, and that with my last breath I bless him." Adieu,
my dear Melville." At those words, she leant over towards her
servant, and kissed him, her face bathed in tears. " Adieu," added
she, " adieu, for the last time ; in thy prayers remember thy mistress,
thy Queen."
She then asked the Earls to. care for her servants, and allow them
to go in safety to their native land ; that was promised readily enough.
She also asked leave for her women to go with her to the place of
execution. The Earl of Kent turned a deaf ear to that request, because
he dreaded lest the boldest men, should, through fanaticism, wish to dip
their handkerchiefs in her blood, and lest the women, by their cries
and sobs, should stay the execution. " My Lord," said Mary, " I give
you my word that they shall not vex you in that way. Alas ! poor
friends, it would be soothing to their bleeding hearts to bid their mis-
tress a last adieu. I am sure, Earl of Kent, that your mistress, who is
a virgin Queen, would not hinder some of my women to be by me at
the hour of death. Her Majesty has not, I know, given you such strict
orders, and she would grant that favour to any woman of lower rank
than is the Queen of Scots."
The Earl of Kent, hardened by religious hatred, was inexorable.
So much obstinacy was revolting to Mary Stuart. " Know, Earl,"
said she to him, " that I am the cousin of your Queen, sprung like her
from the blood of Henry VII., that I am the widow of a King of
France, and also lawful Queen of Scots." Her firmness prevailed over
the obstinacy of the lords ; they feared lest a flat refusal might make
them odious. They consulted together, and allowed Mary to have four
of her servants and two of her maids of honour. When they were
singled out, she herself gave the Sheriff the order to proceed, and they
entered the low chamber of the Castle. There was the scaffold, about
two feet and a-half high, and twelve wide. It was draped with black
English frieze ; so were the seat, cushion and block, where the hapless
Queen was to sit, kneel and die. The rest of the room, where stood
numerous onlookers, was likewise draped with black.
Mary advanced with sorrowful majesty, betraying neither the effron-
tery of an unsteady courage nor the faltering of fear. At the sight of
her, a death-like silence fell upon those assembled ; every heart bled for
that woman, so beautiful, so brilliant, and so learned, about to die, in
her prime, in so tragic a manner, and those who thought her guilty could
1 "Ed in questo dire alzata la mano col segno della croce lo benedine." — Annali di Sisto V.
la morte di Maria, M.S., 9 verso.
112 THE 8th of FEBRUARY 1587.
not but shed a tear at the sight of her misfortune. For some time,
nothing was heard but the steps of the grim cortege. Mary was the
first to break silence. "Sir Amyas," said she to Paulet, " help me to
get up; it is the last office which I shall receive from you,"' and having
rested on his arm, she firmly ascended the steps of the scaffold.
She at once sat down upon the seat intended for her, having, on her
right, the two Earls, seated, on her left, the Clerk of Council and the
Sheriff, in front, the headsman and his assistant, dressed in black velvet,
and, a little way off, near the wall, her four servants and her two maids of
honour ; the latter knelt the whole time. Mary looked upon all those
mournful preparations without emotion ; so strange was the calm cheer-
fulness which rested on her face while going to death, that it called
forth the wonder of the gentlemen, and the deep silence gave way to
a hum of admiration.
When silence was restored, the Clerk of Council read the sentence.
Mary listened with a calmness so wonderful, that the Earl of Shrews-
bury, bewildered and unable to understand, thought it his duty to
remind her that she was listening to the sentence which condemned
herself. That peace of mind was not weakness ; the Queen's attitude,
and her animated and smiling face, proved it. " My Lords," said Mary,
" I was born a Queen, a Sovereign Princess subject to no laws, a near
kinswoman of your Queen, and lawful heiress to the throne of England.
Kept a prisoner for a long time, though innocent, I have suffered much;
yet no one had a right over me. Now, by the strength of men, and
under their power, about to end my days, I thank God for allowing me
to die for my religion, and before those who will bear witness that I lay
my head on the block a Catholic. I protest, as I have always done, in
private and in public, that I have never attempted aught, either against
the State or the life of your Queen ; I have ever loved her and the
country also. I have offered more than reasonable conditions to pacify
all, and you know it. My Lords. At length, my enemies have succeeded
in their design ; I am about to die, yet I forgive them from my heart, as I
wish them all to forgive me. At a later time, both my innocence and
the black schemes of those who have run rjie down, shall be made
known."
Then Dr Fletcher, the Dean of Peterborough, tried to convert the
Catholic martyr. He told her that the Queen of England took a great
' Several authors pretend that those words maintain that they were said to Paulet. I
were addressed to Melville, but others in have adopted the latter opinion,
greater number, and accounts of the period.
THE 8th of FEBRUARY 1587. 113
interest in her salvation, and that, while preparing the just punishment
for her crimes, means were given her to save her soul from everlasting
death ; that she was on the brink of eternity, and that she could escape
the fires of hell, only by repenting of her sins ; that she ought to
acknowledge, by a sincere confession, the justness of the sentence and
the kindness of Queen Elizabeth ; that she must cast aside the inven-
tions and subtleties of men, and abide by the pure Gospel, if she did
not wish to be cast at once into outer darkness, where there shall be
wailing and gnashing of teeth ; that the angel of death was hovering
over her head, and that the axe was already laid to the root of the tree.
After that purely gratuitous impertinence, he showed her the Sovereign
Judge seated upon His throne, with open book, and the sentence about
to be passed : one of greatest moment, a sentence of everlasting happiness
or everlasting damnation — justice and vengeance together, preparing a
furnace of unquenchable fire, which could be shunned only by clinging to
Christ, to be immortalised and glorified by Him.
Mary interrupted that speech three or four times, still the undaunted
Dean went on with his harangue. " Mr Dean," said she to him at last,
"busy yourself no further for me; I am a Catholic, and, God be thanked,
I am going to give my blood for my religion." As he insisted further
on the necessity of changing her opinion and forsaking the old follies of
the Church of Rome, "My good Dean," said the Queen to him, with
pity, "calm yourself, I pray, for I was born a Catholic, have lived a
Catholic, and will die a Catholic." The Dean wished to continue;' but
the lords objected. " Madam," said they, " we are going to pray, along
with the Dean, for your Grace, that God may enlighten your heart, and
that you may die in the knowledge of His law." "My Lords,"
answered Mary, " I cannot thank you too much for wishing to pray for
me ; it is a favour you would do me ; but I cannot join in your prayers,
for your religion is not mine."
While the Earls prayed with the Dean,^ the royal captive recited
psalms of penitence befitting her approaching end. In the ecstacy of
her love, she took the little crucifix, raised it to her lips, and endearingly
^ That very edifying preacher led, at a later nounced a predisposition to that disease. — Cf.
period, in the episcopacy, a less celestial life Goodman, I., 134, and note.
than his words seemed to indicate. Some ^ That admirable man prayed " un poco per
songs, which public malignity welcomed, were I'anima di Maria di Scozia e longamente per
current about him. The poor man died in the la Salute d'Isabella (Elizabeth) Reginad'Inghil-
pulpit, of an attack of apoplexy. No one terra, et per la prosperita del Regno di lei ." —
seems to have been astonished at it; his Manuscript Papers of Sixtus V., 11, verso.
address to the Queen of Scots already an-
VOL. II. P
114 THE 8th of FEBRUARY 1587.
pressed it to her heart. The Earl of Kent was shocked ; "Madam,
it avails you little," said he, "to have that image of Christ in your hand,
if you have Him not graven in your heart." "It were not easy," replied
Mary, "to have His image in one's hand without the heart being
touched thereby, and nothing is more suitable for a Christian who is
about to die than the image of our Redeemer ; moreover," added she,
raising her crucifix, "this image announces my faith to those who do not
hear my words." She prayed in English for the Pope, the Church, the
Catholic Monarchs and Princes, for her enemies, for the Queen of Eng-
land, and for her son the King, earnestly entreating God to give to the
world, peace, and to her. His Holy Paradise. All around were moved ;
the Queen's friends were bowed down under the weight of their grief;
one of the maids of honour rushed towards her mistress, uttering a most
heart-rending cry. "Do not forget," said Mary to her, "that I have
pledged my word for you," and she put her finger to her lips to impose
silence. " Lord Jesus," said she again, " as Thou wert nailed to the
Cross for the salvation of the world, receive me into the arms of Thy
Mercy, and forgive me my sins."
The time to die was come. The Earls asked Mary if she had any
secret to reveal about the Babington Conspiracy. " I have publicly
asserted that I knew nothing," replied Mary, " it is needless to ask me
further at this hour." The headsman then approached to help her to
undress. " Leave me," said Mary to him, "I am not used to such
servants." She ordered her two maids to do that last service. " I
loathe," said she to them with a sad smile, " to undress before every
one." The two unhappy maids set to work weeping ; Mary tried to
console them : " What," said she, " you give way to despair ! rejoice
rather with me since I am about to leave this world for so good a
cause." She threw off her veil, laid down her mantle, and kept on
only a skirt of crimson velvet.' Mary wore on her neck a small gold
cross ; she wished to give it to one of her maids as a token of her
everlasting affection, but the executioner objected, claiming It as his
property. "My good friend," said the Queen to him, "you shall be paid
^ " Auoit en premier lieu vn voile de crespe noir, les manches pendantes, k longue queue,
blanc, Ten couurant depuis la teste, et trainant et le colet k I'ltalienne, vn pourpoint de satin
par terra, sa coifure de mesme estofe, qu'elle noir, vne iuppe de velours cramoisy brun, vne
auoit accoustum^ porter quand elle se mettoit vasquine de tafetas velout^, calegons de futaine
en meilleur point, les festes plus solennelles, blanche, des bas de soye bleue, iarretiers de
ou venant deuant des estrangers, vn grand soye, et des escarpins de marroquin." La
manteau de satin noir gofrd, parement de Mort de la Royne d'Escosse.— Jebb, II.,
martre sublime, (zibeline) double de tafetas 640.
DEATH OF MARY STUART, 1587. 115
much more than it is worth." The executioner would not yield his right,
and Mary did not insist. She then sat down on the seat, gave her bless-
ing to the servants who were melted to tears, and begged them to think
of her in presence of God, then, having forgiven the headsman, she
had her eyes bandaged, kissed her maids a last time, and resigned
herself to the executioner. One surprise yet awaited her ; the un-
fortunate Princess had imagined that she should be struck standing, as
was then done in France ; the executioner told her of her mistake, and
desired her to lay her head upon the block. Mary yielded and bent
over it ; the executioner told her also that she must not keep her
hands under her face, because that would hinder the execution, and the
Queen withdrew them. " Lord," said Mary, " I have placed my hope
in you, and shall not be confounded for ever : deliver me in your
justice. Lend an ear to my prayer and hasten to assist me. Let me
find in you, O my God, a protector and a place of refuge where I may be
safe ; for You are my strength and my shelter, and on account of Your
name You shall be my guide and my support. Take me out of the snare
which they have hidden from me ; for You are my Protector. Oh God !
I place my soul in Your hands : You have redeemed it, God of truth."
The executioner, his axe uplifted, hesitated to strike, and amid the
most profound silence, the heroic Princess was heard to repeat several
times those sadly significant words : " Lord; I place my soul in Your
hands." At last, the headsman struck a heavy blow ; but the stroke,
dealt by an unsteady hand, hit the Queen on the head and drove the
hair into the nape of her neck. Confused and furious, the headsman
struck anew with so much violence that the axe stood fixed in the block.
Mary Stuart was no more. The executioner picked up the hallowed
head of the poor Queen ; in his hurry to show it to the people, the
head slipped from his hands and fell on the platform." " God save
' That accident affords one of Queen Mary's taste. I leave to that eminent personage the
enemies an opportunity of making this very benefit of his description ; he has so much
tasteful reflection : "At once a metamorphosis the more merit as the basis and form belong
was witnessed, strange as was ever wrought to him entirely. Cotemporaries use a very
by wand of fabled enchanter. The coif fell different language. Blackwood writes : " Le
off and the false plaits : the laboured illusion bourreau la decoiffa par manifere de mespris
vanished. The lady who had knelt before the ef de ddrision, afin de monstrer ses cheueux
block was in the maturity of grace and loveli- desia blacs, et le somet de sa teste nouuellemet
ness. The executioner,' when he raised the todu. Ce qu'elle estoit cotraincte de faire bie
head as usual, to show it to the crowd, ex- souugt k cause d'vn reume auquel elle estoit
posed the withered features of a grizzled, subiette,'' 702 . An eye-witness writes : " La
wrinkled old woman." — Fronde, History of teste estoit nue de cheveux devant et derri^re,
England, XII. So speaks a historian whom et raz^e exprfes pour y appliquer quelque cata-
England admires as a writer of the greatest plasme, et en chaque coste petits cheveux gris,
it6 death of MARY STUART, 1587.
Queen Elizabeth," cried the executioner. " Thus perish all her enemies,"
added the Dean of Peterborough. " Amen," gloomily added the fierce
Earl of Kent.' Frightful moment, which, after the lapse of three cen-
turies, still makes the sympathetic heart throb wildly !
Choking sobs were heard ; the servants and maids of the Queen
uttered piercing cries, the gentlemen shed tears over that awful death
scene, and the most hardened, moved in spite of their efforts, went
away sad. The Catholics saw in that execution a true martyrdom,
the Protestants an expiation ; while the mass of the lukewarm began
to wonder, after so tragic an end, if there was still a Providence in
heaven.
" So long as truth, virtue and man shall dwell upon earth, that sore
shall bleed ; so long as there shall be eyes and tears in this world of
wretchedness and misery, tears shall bedew those royal ashes, and the
piety of the living shall never weary of strewing handsful of lilies, pinks
and roses on her grave." ^
" It is true that on the xxix January, which was a Sunday, eight
days before her execution, between twelve and one o'clock at night,
there suddenly appeared in the firmament a large flame of bright fire
over the window of the Queen's chamber, which gave much light, and
returned three times, though visible in no other part of the castle.
That light was so clear, that by its aid one easily could read and write ;
it caused much astonishment, and frightened the guards appointed to
watch under that window, as they have certified." ^
mais non pas beaucoup." — Teulet, Supp. au less violent, they might have awaited the
Prince Labanoff, 349. And in an account victim's recovery.
written under the dictation of Bourgoin, the ^ " Le vray rapport de I'exdcution de la
Queen's physician, who probably knew as well Royne d'Escosse." — Teulet, IV., 1 54 sq. An-
as Mr Froude how the thing took place, one nali di Sisto V., la Morte di Maria. — Archives
reads :" La teste sdparde, ilia print par la coifure Secretes du Capitol. A true report of the
qui luy eschappa, ou apparut sa teste blanche et death of that rare and princely martyr, Mary
sans cheueux, qu'elle faisoit oster souvent pour Stuart. — State Paper Office. The manner of
le mal de teste qu'elle auoit." — Jebb, II., 641. the execution. — Elhs, II., iii., 113 sq. La
Mr Froude would, no doubt, have preferred Mort de la Royne d'Escosse. — Jebb, Black-
Mary Stuart to present herself to the execu- wood, Conn, Camden, Spottiswoode, Sander-
tioner without any hair whatever; it is a son, Caussin, &c. — Proofs, III.
singular idea against which I am powerless. ^ Caussin, Jebb, II., loi.
It is well known, that when the Earl of ^ Le vray rapport de I'exdcution, &c. —
Shrewsbury asked to see Mary, she was in Teulet, IV., 163.
bed. Had the hatred of the ministers been
CHAPTER XXVI.
1587— T603.
LAST DUTIES PAID TO MARY'S BODY — HER BURIAL — PUBLIC REJOICINGS — ELIZABETH'S
DISSIMULATION — SHE PUNISHES DAVISON — SHE ENDEAVOURS TO MISLEAD PUBLIC
OPINION— INTERVIEW WITH THE AMBASSADOR OF FRANCE— GREAT ANXIETY IN PARIS
— ATTITUDE OF JAMES VI. — SCOTTISH INVASION — GRIEF OF PHILIP II. — PREPARATIONS
FOR WAR — THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA — DISASTER — PERSECUTION OF THE CATHOLICS —
DEATH OF ELIZABETH.
A T the thought of the frightful tortures of Queen Mary, tears must
■^^- flow ; and did not the calmness of her resignation comfort us a
little in the midst of so great a disaster, we should remain for ever
buried in despair. The sight of innocence, suffering and dragged to a
scaffold is so galling in itself that the feelings of a man of honour are
outraged by it. So great a crime irritates and equally grieves him ; he
wonders at events, and whether chance governs us, or if there is no longer
any justice in this world. God sometimes allows that disorder to let
men feel how little they are, and woe to him who does not see His
hand ever outstretched in those hours of darkness and confusion. No
one has a reason to complain : Mary has suffered, it is but too true ;
she has been a martyr from the cradle to the grave ; the frail sport
of human passions, she has been broken by their violence ; the most
beautiful of women has also been the most unfortunate ; time has passed
away, dragging along with it adversity and prosperity, and the misfor-
tunes of the luckless Queen have had their end ; God kept for Himself
to crown the martyr ; but the awful tragedy was still to go on after
the death of the heroine. She was unhappy ; all her friends, too, were
unhappy ; whoever tried to support her, fell with her. Till then, there
were only isolated efforts ; the most powerful monarch in the world is
now about to take in hand her defence, and his numberless vessels are
to go down amid the waves. Elizabeth shall rejoice, insult her enemies,
forget her crime, and even forget that she is mortal, till, in her turn,
touched by the hand of God, to whose justice she has been blind, she
sinks, falls and expiates in horrible throes the crimes of her life ;
ii8 MARY'S BURIAL, 1587.
the foresight of her ministers, the learning of her bishops, even her
own firmness, being unable to give her an hour of hope or peace. The
Queen of Scots dies smiHng upon a scaffold ; her rival, nursed in the
lap of luxury and with no want, shall die cursing heaven and earth,
rage in her heart, remorse in her soul, and with a past which torments
her with its visions, a present which is soon to end, and a future before
which she bows her head in dull silence : the arm of God shall have
revealed itself. That is what is yet to be told,
Mary's body was left beside the block ; till they came to a decision
as to its disposal, it was covered with an old green cloth, torn from a
billiard table ; the Queen's crucifix, her garments, rosary and everything
stained with her blood were burned. The body was then carried into
a room next that of the servants. Violent means had to be used ere
Mary's little dog, which had lain down on the breast of her mistress
after the execution, could be got away. The body was embalmed the
next day with little enough respect and put into a leaden coffin. It was
left six months in that position, and it was not till the end of July
that it could be protected by the grave against the hatred of the
living. The funeral service was performed with great pomp in the
Cathedral of Peterborough, where her remains were buried.
The execution over. Sir Henry Talbot, son of the Earl of Shrews-
bury, was sent in hot haste to tell Elizabeth what had taken place, and
how matters had gone off. He reached Greenwich at about nine in the
morning. The news spread at once with the swiftness of lightning ;
the bells were rung. London took a holiday, and in the evening, as
on days of great rejoicing, bonfires lighted up the city. The example of
the capital was followed by the neighbouring towns : there were banquets
and feasts everywhere, and fanatic England, carried away by a
ferocious joy, insulted, by its clamours, the friends of the unhappy Queen
of Scots.' The popular frenzy knew no bounds ; people went even to
the ambassador of France for wood to feed the fires lit up in his
street.^ Nay more, and this time, I wish, for the honour of the
human race, that this particular had not been handed down to us.
Elizabeth went for her usual ride, and on her return, gave audience to
the King of Portugal, without betraying in word or look, the least
sadness.3
1 La Morte di Maria.— Papiers MS. de " Mendoga to Philip II., 7th March.—
Sixte v., 19. Discours sur la Mort de Teulet, Supp. au Prince Labanoff, 378.
Madame Marie Stouard, 8. Paris, Bichon, ^ Chateauneuf to the King, 27th February. —
1588. Teulet, IV., 172.
ELIZABETH PUNISHES DAVIDSON. 119
Rejoicing, however, was in vain, for that noisy mirth was poisoned
by a terrible anxiety. What would France think ? What would Europe
think of such a cruelty, of such a crime ? Fear trod out the bonfires.
The better to blind the monarchs of Europe before they could
be informed by their ambassadors, an embargo was put upon the ships ;
the ports were closed, the despatches seized and opened,' and Lord
Stafford solemnly told the ambassador of Spain, in Paris, that the
misfortune had happened against the will of his Sovereign, by the doing
of Davison, " a most terrible heretic and particular enemy to the Queen
of Scots." =
That comedy was merely a shadow of that which was being per-
formed in England. When Elizabeth learned that her good sister, the
Queen of Scots, was dead, she got fiercely indignant, turned out her
ministers, had Davison locked up, outdid grief itself, and affected
unwonted sorrow. Her sorrow was often shown by outbursts of
powerful wrath ; her ladies and officers, grieved as much as she was,
improved further upon her mourning. Her ministers were obliged to
come and ask pardon, to regain her good graces ; one only could not
come. That was Davison, perhaps the least guilty. Thrown into the
Tower for having obeyed too well, he was pining away there, awaiting
his trial in anguish. Despite the efforts made by the Earl of Essex^ to
save him, he was condemned in the Star Chamber to an excessive fine,
and to be kept in prison during the Queen's pleasure.* But from the
depths of his cell, the secretary wrote his apology, and gave to the
world what Elizabeth wished to keep secret, so that the shrewd Queen
had, by her hateful intrigue, only another blot cast upon her name.
In the audience she granted to the envoy of Henry III., she, " affect-
ing great annoyance, and almost with a tearful eye," said to him that
she was much grieved at the death of Mary Stuart, who had been
put to death against her will, that Davison who had deceived her, was
in safe custody, and should answer for it ; she begged him to express
1 Various Papers. — Teulet, IV., 170, 172, the Secretary was in the Tower, " for not pro-
185 ; v.. 484. ceading with the Quene of Scottes, according
2 Mendoga to Phiiip II., 20th February. — to his mistresses commaundement, at the de-
Teulet, v., 469. hverye of the warrant, which was not to put yt
3 Cabala, 229 sq. Lives and Letters of the in execution before the Realme should be
Earls of Essex, I., 183 sq. actually invaded by some foron power." — Ellis,
■• As an excuse for Davison's punishment II., iii., 126; Von Raumer, Briefe aus Paris,
was required, and as it could no longer be II., 164. It is worthy of note that Puckering
maintained that Elizabeth had not given the and Egerton, who condemned Davison, were
order to put the Queen of Scots to death, successively appointed lords-keepers. — Good-
equivocation was used, and it was said that man, 1., 133. Was that mere chance ?
120 INTERVIEW WITH THE AMBASSADOR OF FRANCE.
her heart-felt regret to the King of France/ Trampling under foot all
modesty, she, fearing no denial, did not cease to play her part as long as
Mary Stuart was in question. The first audience she gave the French
ambassador, may be looked upon as a masterpiece of shamelessness.
She made Chateauneuf enter the Council Chamber, and taking him by
the arm : " here," said she, smiling, " is the man who wanted to have
me killed." She hurriedly added that she had always believed that to
be the invention of two knaves, who thereby sought to obtain money.
She expressed her regret for having had Destrappes put into prison for
so trifling a matter, and at once set him free. I have inquired about
him, said she, and have found out that he is a lawyer, anxious to plead at
the bar of Paris. I am sorry I have caused him injury, for he will owe
me a grudge all his life, but you may tell him that I hope I never shall
have to plead a case with him in Paris, where he may try to take his
revenge for the wrong I have done him.''
Then taking the ambassador aside, she said to him, that in the
death of her cousin-german, the greatest misfortune and. vexation of
her life had befallen her, and swore to God, with many oaths, that she
was innocent . . that those of her Council, four of whom were present,
but whom she did not name, had played her a trick which she could
not forget ; and swore to God, that but for their long services, and the fact
that they had done what they did, only for the good and safety of her
person, she should have had their heads off. "She begged me," adds the
ambassador, " to believe that she is not so wicked as to wish to throw
the blame on a little secretary, had it not been that that death doomed
her to grieve for ever."^
The news of Mary Stuart's execution was the cause of great sad-
ness throughout France. The truth of so strange a deed was for a long
time doubted; but when at length it was proved that the Queen of Scots
had really been beheaded, there was an outburst of sorrow. France
was troubled, and a long murmur, broken by sobs, rose from every
breast. Bellievre, who had supported Mary Stuart's cause in England,
broke out into threats, and Brtilart, the Secretary of State, swore never
again to appear in Council, if the King did not take revenge for so
heinous a crime. The pulpit resounded with panegyrics of the
Catholic Martyr. At Saint Eustache, the emotion reached such a pitch
among the hearers, that the voice of the preacher was drowned in the
1 Chateauneufto the King, 27th February.— " CMteauneuf to the King, 13th May.
Teulet, IV., 175. Teulet, IV, 196.
* The same to the same. — Idem, ibidem, 197.
GREAT ANXIETY IN PARIS. 121
sobs, and that he himself, overpowered by his sad subject, broke down
in his sermon, and, weeping, left the pulpit/ The Court, led away by
public opinion, went into mourning. A solemn service was performed
at Notre Dame (12th March), before an immense throng. The various
bodies of the State were dressed in black. The remembrance of that
kind Queen, the marvel of the world, as she was called," had retained
all its power and all its freshness ; many, for the love of her, would have
wished to share her prison and her death. But already, she was, as it
were, idealized, and the people, constant in their affection, looked upon
her as their martyred Queen and mother.
It seemed very likely that the French Cabinet would break off its
relations with England ; for the nobles were agreed with the people, that
the outrage was revolting. The encouragement poured forth from the ^
pulpits in Paris and in the Provinces, everywhere produced a like effect ;
the people gathered together in mobs, and secretly murmured against
the listlessness of the Court. The time was well fitted for Henry III.
to pick a quarrel with England. In all likelihood, an external war
would have at least interrupted the unfortunate civil war which was
again to cost France so much precious blood. The King was favour-
able ; Scotland was making active preparations ; the Guises would have
supported it with energy; and the League, instead of wasting the capital,
would have turned its feverish activity to better use elswhere, but, for
that, a head must be found, and the feeble Henry III., overwhelmed
by the weight of the Crown, acted only when led by the Queen-mother.
She, dreading victory, because it might rouse the pride of the Leaguers,
and defeat, because of the dishonour which might come to the throne,
thought to do a skilful stroke of policy by dallying. No one even dared
to find fault with the barbarous action of Elizabeth, and Chateauneuf
had to resume his negotiations. Matters got on the worse for it ; the
League became more furious ; anarchy was within ; royalty was sinking ;
and while it was degrading itself in Paris, the King of Navarre, Eliza-
beth's ally, gave it the deathblow at Coutras. When we think of
those disasters, we are amazed to hear people say that Henry III. was
most clever on that occasion. It is very evident, on the contrary, that
by launching against England all those wild passions, by uniting the
factions for one common end, dear to all, the dangerous element would
have been thrown aside, and concord would, of necessity, again have been
established. Even a disaster at such a time would have been a signal
1 Mendoga to Philip II., 6th March. — ^ Panegyric of Mary Stuart. — Jebb, II.,
Teulet, v., 483. 686.
VOL. II. Q
122 SCOTTISH INVASION.
blessing, for then, both parties must have joined to help each other.'
Catherine de M6dicis went wrong throughout ; she forgot the Queen of
Scots, whom she ought to have helped, and allowed to ferment in
France the passions which she ought to have directed.
Scotland showed herself more worthy, and if the sluggishness of
France had not made her unfit to undertake anything, Elizabeth would
likely have experienced great difficulties. Even before Mary's death,
the Scots were preparing to avenge her, and the Hamiltons offered
their Sovereign a small army of five thousand men, raised at their own
expense.^ The fatal news was scarcely known, when the Border
Scots, without waiting for the King's order, rushed into England, and
began to ravage it. A great agitation told the country that something
great had just taken place, and those who were not yet aware of Mary's
tragic end, wondered what it could be. The Earl of Morton was in the
open field before James VI. learned what had happened to his mother.
When he was told of it, he felt a keen sorrow ; his mourning was deep
and sincere ; he shed many a tear, and swore that if ever an English
ambassador had the boldness to cross the Border, he would have him
hanged on the spot. In the evening he took no food, and, the next
day, set out before daylight for Dalkeith, fleeing his palace and his
Court. When he heard that Morton, at the head of a small army, had
entered England, he was sorry he had not forestalled him.^
All Scotland shared the King's indignation ; the national spirit felt
degraded, and the cruel action was looked upon as an affront to the
whole nation.* In a moment all was kindled; the ravagers, ruled by fury
and the hope of gain, became more numerous, and, taking a wider aim,
tried to kindle war and revolt in Ireland. Gray was overthrown and
banished ;= the partizans of Catholicism and of Spain were recalled : a
general war was to be feared.
It was in the midst of that burst of fury that Robert Carey, Eliza-
beth's envoy, was charged to take to King James VI. the wailings of his
mistress. James refused him entrance into Scotland, and warned him
^ The author had written those lines without written by Ogilvy to Lord Burghley, no date,
thinking of supporting them with any autho- (February 1587). — State Paper Office.
rity whatever, because the historians whom he ^ Moyse's Memoirs, 118. — Teulet, V, 491.
consulted are of a different opinion. He has * "The King cannot staye the Rigor of his
been agreeably surprised to find, in looking peouple." — Ellis, II., iii., 119. Courcelles
over the quotations, that Walsingham dreaded Despatches, "]"].
exactly that agreement of all parties. — Spottis- ' Pitcairn, II., 157 ; Gray's Papers, 148-149,
woode,' II., 368. Courcelles Despatches, 46, 65, 70.
* Anonymous Letter, supposed to have been
SCOTTISH INVASION. 123
that if he set a foot on Scottish soil, it would be impossible to save him
from the fury of the people. Robert Carey stopped at Berwick, whither
R. Melville and the Laird of Cowdenknowes came to learn his message.'
" My deare Brother," said Elizabeth, " I would you knewe (though
not felt) the extreme dolor that overwhelms my mind, for that miserable
accident which (far contrary to my meaninge) hath befalen. I have
now sent this kinsman of mine, whom ere now yt hath pleased yow to
favor, to instruct you trewly of that which ys to yerksom for my penne
to tell yow. I beseche yow that, as God and many moe knowe, how
innocent I am in this case ; so yow will believe me, that yf I had bid
ought I owld have bid by yt."= She assured him, in concluding, that
no one was more attached to him than she, and begged him to be on
his guard against those who might tell him the contrary.
It is not known how James VI. received Elizabeth's letter, but one
may be allowed to believe that he did not alter his mind, for the agita-
tion increased in Scotland, and ravaging went on in England. In
that perilous crisis, Walsingham thought of gaining over the Privy
Council, the more easily to secure the King. He wrote to Lord
Thirlstane, principal Councillor, a long letter, in which he pointed out,
one by one, the misfortunes which a war with England would bring
upon Scotland ; that there were no grounds for it, being undertaken
to take revenge for an act of justice brought about by necessity, and that
it was impossible to keep it up without the aid of foreign Princes ; that
help being more to be dreaded than wished for, doubtful as it was from
France, threatening from Spain, and, moreover, very doubtful, as Eliza-
beth, by her naval forces, and her alliance with the Dutch, would more
than likely prevent its reaching its destination. He added that all
support sought from without would make the Prince odious to the
English, and would close for him access to the English throne ; that
the nobles would oppose the accession of a Prince so revengeful, and
that violent counsels must not be heeded, but that it ought to be borne
in mind that the crowning honour of a Prince embraces prudence,
moderation and equity, and follows not the dictates of a blind passion,
nor sacrifices personal interest to revenge.^
The councillors did not fail after that to remonstrate with the King,
and Chancellor Maitland, the pillar of the faction, was not among the most
^ Moyse's Memoirs, 118; Courcelles Des- ' Spottiswoode, II., 365 sq. The letter
patches, 42, 50, 51. published by Teulet, IV., 471, is simply a
^ Queen Elizabeth to King James VI. — wretched translation.
Ellis, I., iii., 23.
124 SCOTTISH INVASION.
backward ; but the King kept to his own resolve and would not yield.
He gave Elizabeth to know that if she was innocent, which required to
be proved, she must punish the guilty ; that, he insisted on at any cost,
and, if needs were, he placed his forces at her disposal.' That deter-
mination to punish amazed Elizabeth. She wrote to Carey that she
would send no reply ; that she was innocent ; and that, should the King
again mention the matter, he was to be told that she knew nothing of
it. Carey was to put forward the finding of the Parliament, the
wish of the country, the mourning of the Queen, and her conduct
towards her councillors, and especially towards Davison, as so many
proofs establishing the innocence of his mistress.''
During those debates ruin was spreading in England. Cessford,
Fernyhirst, Bothwell and Angus offered to put everything to fire and
sword as far as Newcastle. Frightened by their number and by their
boldness, the Governor of the Marches, Sir Cuthbert Colingwood, almost
in despair, wrote a letter to Walsingham. " The country,'' said he, " is
reduced to a desert, wasted with fire and sword, and filled with lamenta-
tion and dismay." 3 The ministers were in no hurry to send him assist-
ance ; and, sometime after, he was attacked in the Castle of Eslington,
lost seventeen men, left his son a prisoner, and owed his safety only to the
fleetness of his horse. At any other time the haughty Elizabeth could
not have found words strong enough for her anger ; here, there was not a
bitter word against the King of Scotland ; and despite the hard struggle
in which her subjects were worsted, she showed the young King only
' ' caresses and attentions. " * God alone knows how much more damage might
have been done, if King James himself had not stopped the plunderers.
By degrees their anger cooled, their resentment became less blood-
thirsty, and James cut short the baneful war, and tried to be on good
terms with the Court of England, so as to get himself, with ease,
seated on the throne of Great Britain.'
Spain had yet to be disarmed, and then there might be hope
that fear would vanish and fury would be lessened. For a moment,
Elizabeth thought she was going to gain her ends, when she saw
Philip II. take her as mediatrix between him and the revolted Provinces
of the Low Countries ; but that was done only through policy, and with
the object of gaining time. Philip II., though more reserved in his official
^ Moyse's Memoirs, 1 19. ' Chateauneuf to the King, 21st May. —
2 Lord Burghley to R. Carey, 3d April.— Biblioth. Impdr. Fends de Bethune, 8880, 23.
State Paper Office. « Proofs, IV.
^ Tytler's History, IV., 161.
GRIEF OF PHILIP 11. 125
language than Elizabeth, did not fall short of her as a politician. Crafty
and cunning, as well as hard-working, foreseeing and suspecting, quick in
his conceptions, slow and, so to say, almost sluggish in execution, he hid,
under that wonted haughty apathy, a soul of fire. The passions which
troubled his heart and wakened up his vast intelligence had not the
power to move his countenance. Outwardly he was calm, proud, and even
stiff and stilted. He felt that he was all-powerful, yet was a prey to
the restlessness of a man who mistrusts his own strength — qualities and
faults which gained for him the surname of " Demon of the South."
The sad end of Mary Stuart grieved him wondrously ; and, as a
Catholic King, he resolved to avenge the Catholic martyr. The tragic
event awoke in him all the old hatred which time had not been able to
smother. He persuaded himself that his honour, as much as his faith,
demanded an expedition against England, and he eagerly prepared for
it. In vain did his colonies ask for help, and in vain did Drake go and
attack him on Spanish soil itself, he nevertheless went on with his pre-
parations, and did not allow his attention to be taken off or his purpose
bent. He alone covered all the cost of equipment, made sure of the
help of the Pope and of the Guises, and proceeded boldly with the work
he had set himself. Negotiations with England were still pending
when his well-manned ships had put to sea.
The ocean had not yet borne a fleet of such great importance. There
were thirty-five ships of various sizes : some of them, shaped like movable
fortifications, bristling with cannons, were of a size huge for the period.
Eight thousand sailors, twenty thousand land forces, provisions for six
months and munitions of war in abundance, formed the equipment of
men and the stores of the fleet. A Vicar-General of the Holy Office
and about a hundred monks, intended to convert the Island, went
along with the expedition.
The mighty fleet was to be reinforced by a great number of the
troops of Flanders. From Spain, Italy and Germany, adventurous
bands poured in, anxious to take part in the expedition. As a man
consummate in the art of war. General Parnese organised, at the very
first, the defence of the Low Countries, united the foreign regiments,
mixed them with the old .Spanish troops, so as to be enabled to launch
on England thirty thousand veterans, without much reducing the usual
garrisons. The forest of Waes, cut down by his orders, served to
build flat boats for the transport of his troops ; and the strange thing
is, that England did not appear to foresee or anticipate anything. The
secret of so mighty an armament had been so well kept, that it was not
126 THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA, 1588.
known on what point of the universe PhiHp II. would let fall his
wrath.
Several of Elizabeth's councillors urged her to put her kingdom in
a state of defence, telling her that the interests at stake were too great
for England to remain a listless witness of such an expedition, wherever
Philip II. might deal his blows. The Queen could not make up her
mind for expense which she deemed useless.
The fleet put to sea in the first days of June ; and it would likely-
have been all over with the Tudors and Protestantism, had it not been
caught, off Cape Finisterre, in a heavy storm, which scattered it, rudely
knocked it about, and forced it to put in for repairs at the Port of
Corunna. That mishap gave Elizabeth time to assemble her troops
and fortify the banks of the Thames. A general rising was ordered ; the
English were roused, their common danger rivetting them together ; in a
few days sixty thousand men were in arms ; the Catholics forgot religious
differences to think only of the country : the more dangerous were
banished to the Isle of Ely and the interior of the kingdom. For
several weeks there reigned an activity and oneness of purpose which
did great honour to Elizabeth's government ; and, but for that extra-
ordinary danger, it might never have been possible to form a right
estimate of the strength of England in the sixteenth century. Alone she
was to cope with the most dreaded power in the world. France was
hostile to her ; Ireland groaned under the yoke ; Scotland, though
quieted for a while, was still threatening ; and, to add to the difficulties,
the English government had but very few ships of its own. They had
to equip a fleet, just as they had raised an army. The City of London
set the example of devotedness by placing thirty-eight vessels of various
tonnage at the disposal of the Queen. Towns and rich individuals
equipped others at their private expense, and there was an English
fleet without burdening the Treasury. Drake, Frobisher, Winter and
Hawkins, already famed for their exploits in far-distant climes, humbled
their pride and stooped to serve under Admiral Howard of Effingham,
a brave and skilful sailor.
Had it not been for the damage done to the Spanish fleet as it
set sail, there could not have been time for those preparations, and no
one can have deplored the loss of time more than Philip II. He had
been advised to seize a port in Ireland, Scotland or Holland, to anchor
his fleet if it had to seek shelter ; he had rejected the wise advice,
because it would give rise to delay, , and had found fault with the
Marquis of Santa Cruz for his slowness. He wanted to go boldly and
THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA, 1588. 127
swiftly to conquer England before she was on the defensive. When
the fleet named the " Invincible" was again able to go to sea, it was too
late ; the English were ready for it.
On the 20th of July it was in sight of Plymouth, where Drake and
Howard had cast anchor. Favoured by the wind and by a moderate
sea, the Spanish fleet sailed orderly, in the shape of a crescent, at once
calling forth admiration and rousing fear. It would have been easy for
it, while nearing land, to close and hem in, as in a net, Howard's flotilla.
The most experienced among the Spanish captains thouglit it advis-
able to sail towards the coast, destroy the enemy's ships, and thus
open up for themselves the way into England ; but Guzman, Duke of
Medina Sidonia, who led in chief, acting literally up to the orders of
Philip II., would not give battle till he should be joined by the Duke
of Parma. That too nice observance of the King's orders saved the
English, and gave the death-blow to the Spanish fleet.
Howard and Drake escaped, against all expectation, from that
extreme danger. Thinking they had guessed the Spanish admiral's
instructions, they from that time harassed, night and day, the Invincible
Armada. The hour of disaster was nigh. The Armada, trusting to
its strength and to its name of " Invincible," had till now kept merely
on the defensive. It had reached Calais, where it came to anchor,
waiting for the arrival of the Duke of Parma. On the 8th of August
the sky was cloudy, the atmosphere became heavy and sultry, and
at nightfall the air was no cooler. Meanwhile the sea was calm,
but the darkness profound. In the middle of the night, the wind, com-
ing from the south-west, began to blow with fury. The English fleet
was moored within a cannon-shot higher up, having wind and wave in
its favour. As a skilful sailor, Drake sent off to sea eight of his most
damaged ships, after filling them with inflammable stuff and setting fire
to them. Their livid light spread terror in the hearts of the Spaniards;
they tried to save themselves, but the fire-ships, driven by the wind,
advanced so swiftly, that fright banished prudence. The Spaniards cut
their cables, unfurled their sails, and tried to get clear. In a short time
the Armada was in dreadful confusion. The ships came into collision,
and, vying with one another, made desperate efforts to gain the open
sea. At the same time a violent storm broke out, and the ships,
carried away by the hurricane, struggled in vain against the enraged
elements : the whole night was spent in fruitless endeavours. At break
of day, Drake, whose vessels had not suffered, pounced on the scattered
Spanish fleet, bombarded it mercilessly, and damaged it beyond repair.
128 PERSECUTION OF THE CATHOLICS.
Several ships, closely followed, ran aground between Calais and the
mouths of the Scheldt; the rest, in the bewilderment of despair, heeding
no signal, fled with all sail into the North Sea : Drake cannonaded
them as far up as Leith. England was saved. The Duke of Parma
withdrew his troops, which were ready to embark, and the Armada,
continuing its course across the seas which wash Scotland and Ireland,
strewed their shores with wrecks.
Philip II. heard of the disaster with the heroism of a Christian
prince, or the stoicism of a terrible pride.. When Don Christoval de
Moura told him that his Armada had been destroyed, he listened to
him coldly, and answered him with the same assurance, "God be praised
that He has given me the strength to bear such a loss, and that I am
enabled to put again to sea a fleet as considerable ; the water which
flows may vanish, and its loss not be felt, if the spring be not dried up."
The behaviour of the English Catholics was in every way worthy of
their creed. Far from wishing the triumph of Spain, several among
them equipped ships at their own expense to fight the Spaniard ; a
greater number, and among them men of rank, enlisted as volunteers
under Protestant chiefs. When the Armada was destroyed, Elizabeth
rewarded their courage only by an atrocious persecution. The Catholics
were watched, annoyed, imprisoned, condemned to heavy fines, banished,
robbed without shame and without pity, surrounded by spies and made
liable to have their houses searched. A great number perished by the
hand of the executioner ; others had their ears pierced with a red-hot
iron ; some died under the lash or were crushed under heavy stones.'
Success had made Elizabeth bold against God Himself, and all the
rest of her reign was stamped with the same arrogance. But all things
have an end. God at times grants a long life to persecutors ; but their
end is always unhappy. Dazzling prosperity, riches, power and long days,
are as nothing with Him ; He often makes of those seeming favours so
many tortures. I should be sorry to hurt the feelings of a people whom
I admire and love, and with whom I have spent very pleasant hours ;
nor should I wish either to offend them in their religious convictions,
by representing Elizabeth as a ferocious tyrant, or by exaggerating
the horror of her last moments. As a genius and as an administrator,
she is worthy of praise, I admit ; but as a woman, I know not with whom
1 I do not mean to justify those horrors, but a defence. Elizabeth could not but be offended,
it is becoming in me to say that the Catholics as a Queen and as a woman, at several of those
gave cause for those punishments by indiscreet publications. See Proofs, V.
writings, which seemed rather a defiance than
LAST MOMENTS OF ELIZABETH. 129
to compare her — she goes beyond the detestable. If I were a Pro-
testant and an English subject, perhaps my love for my country and my
religion might make her less hateful to me ; but I am wanting in those
two qualities. Be that as it may, I beg the reader to believe in my
sincerity, and not to think that I write the sad lines which I have yet to
pen, to brand a Queen, dead nearly three hundred years.
After such long prosperity, Elizabeth might fancy herself one of those
privileged creatures on whom misfortune has no hold. The sixteenth
century had passed, and had witnessed her greatness and her ever-growing
good fortune ; the seventeenth was dawning, and nothing foretold any
early change. England was powerful, dreaded without and happy within.
The Catholics, crippled by suffering and confiscations, and fewer in
number by exile, dared not raise their heads. Elizabeth seemed a
goddess ruling entire Europe by her genius and her fortune ; yet she
was her own scourge. The death of Essex, whom she had had beheaded,
plunged her suddenly into mourning, and showed her, for the first
time, how much bitterness may dwell in the human heart. She became
taciturn and mistrustful. The ladies of her Court, witnesses of her grief,
followed her with their looks, not daring to question her ; their silence
was taken for aversion, and Elizabeth, devoured by fear and suspicion,
became wrapped up in herself more closely than ever. She was often
seen seated alone, during long hours, busy nursing her sorrows. Her
sunken eyes, her wasted and wrinkled features, and the suspicious
expression of her face, made silence and terror reign around her. She
soon refused all food. No one in the world knew the reason of her
sadness ; some pitied her — others, and Burghley was among the num-
ber, thought her mad. Yet it was easy to see, from her stifled cries,
groans and choked sighs, that a great grief was breaking her heart.
She fancied she heard mysterious noises, with which were mingled
pleasing or terrible remembrances of Essex, Arabella Stuart or the
rebel Tyrone. The whisperings of those around her threw her into
mortal frights ; she thought herself detested by her subjects. " Let me
die in peace," said she to her women, when they pressed her to take
some food, "for the English are tired of me as I am of them." She no
longer changed her clothing, and the courtiers looked upon that as a
bad omen, that her coquettishness had forsaken her.' It sometimes
^ A bad omen indeed, for, in the yearprece- been "a little wonder to see an old woman,
ding her death, she danced " une gaillarde " the head of the Church, being seventy years of
with the Duke of Bracciano, "to show the age, to dance in that manner, and to perform
vigour of her old age;'' and it cannot have her part so well." — Goodman, I., 18.
VOL. II. R
I30 DEATH OF ELIZABETH, 1603.
happened that her haughty disposition threw off that morbid apathy,
but those short intervals were more to be dreaded than desired. Then
she became wild, stamped her feet, and cursed, or seizing a sword which
she always had beside her, she struck the furniture violently with it, and
thrust it into the cushions and tapestry of her room, with terrifying
threats. Several months were spent in that wild state of over-excite-
ment. Weary of Westminster, she left London in the depth of winter,
and, in damp and rainy weather, went to Richmond ; but her illness only
increased. She imagined she saw horrible ghosts, and heard frightful
sounds ; and mentioned them to her ladies as facts. In the height of
her madness, she sat on a chair for two days and three nights ; on
another occasion, she kept standing with similar obstinacy. Often,
seated on a cushion, she remained silent, one finger on her lips, her eyes
fixed upon the floor, and quite motionless. When the lords and bishops
tried to comfort her, she looked at them scornfully, and allowed them
to go on speaking, or answered them only briefly. The Lord Admiral,
for whom she still felt a little esteem, having desired her to go to bed,
she answered him confidentially, that if he had seen the visions which
haunted her he would never again ask her to do so. Lord Burghley
thought he might insist on her taking rest. " Fool," cried the Queen,
" you are very presuming, because you know I am going to die." She
then relapsed into her grief. The hideous apparitions, called up at the
thought of death stealing upon her, came anew and more threatening.
She sent away those around, with the exception of the Lord Admiral.
" My Lord," said she to him, " I am held in chains : I have an iron
collar round my neck." As he tried to console her, she exclaimed in a
still louder voice, " I am in bondage — I am lost ! "
The night of the 23d and 24th of March, which was the last of her life,
brought her no more peace. The lords who were present, seeing her
grow weaker and weaker, asked her whom she wished for her successor.
The Kings of France and Scotland were named to her ; but she made no
reply. The bastard of Catherine Grey was mentioned : "No !" said she,
" I do not wish the son of a wretch upon the throne." The hateful
woman died, bequeathing to her subjects, at the moment of her death,
the risk of a civil war, through her stubbornness to name her successor.
CONCLUSION.
"Vr OW that we are come to the end of the history of Mary Stuart, we
■^ ^ must take a glance back, and show the reader the unbroken
chain of misfortunes which overwhelmed that Princess. We think the
life of no other human being could have been more wretched and more
innocent than hers. When one looks back upon that stormy life, it
seems as if an unpitying fate delighted in multiplying her misfortunes.
Her sad destiny welcomed her at birth ; she had not the good fortune
to know her father : he was dying when she saw the light, but her
babyhood sheltered her from grief, else her heart had begun to mourn
when it began to live. Slander, that other scourge, already clung to
her. The young Queen, who, at a later period was to be so brilliant,
was given out to be a deformed being, unworthy of filling a throne.
The ambassador of England had to see her naked, ere the false rumours
were hushed.
After grief and slander, came politics. Sought after by Henry VHI.,
she had to flee away and hide herself in a monastery, rising from the
middle of a lake, to keep her freedom safe. But soon, she is not in
safety even there : suitors seek her hand ; the Regent of Scotland and
the King of England aim at that alliance ; the old monastery is no
longer a safe refuge ; young Mary is shut up in Dunbarton, thence sails
for France, and escapes, by a hair's- breadth, the English fleet, on the
look-out for her. Her youth was thereafter full of bitterness, for the
bread of exile, though given by a friendly hand, is not so sweet as the
bread of home.
Brilliant and worshipped at the Court of France, she must have
been poisoned, had not the vile intent of the wretch been found out ;
her guardian, less looked after, was basely murdered. She weds the
Dauphin ; people might have said, and truly believed, that she was to
be for ever happy, for France was at her feet ; she had, within her, all
that was wanted to charm hearts and win them ; she counted on long
and happy days : but death comes suddenly and tears down the scaffold-
ing of her happiness, and on the morrow, she is alone beside a corpse,
132 CONCLUSION.
which she, in sadness, gives to the earth, and then finds herself bereft of
family, court, and power, an exile among her own, and hated by her
mother-in-law, the treacherous M^dicis.
She must flee to Scotland. God knows how sad for her was the
day on which she left France ; her happiness was for ever gone ; the
harsh reformer Knox, and those of his sect, are about to worry her
without ceasing, and wage against her a bitter war. Let her forsake
her religion and she is saved ; but the gentle victim, brought up in the
bosom of Catholicism, loves her faith better than the throne and peace.
A terrible struggle begins : Mary tries to gain over the heretics by
gentle means, then to intimidate them by threats ; but what can a feeble
woman do against so many narrow-minded fanatics ? Her second
husband, instead of aiding her, does all he can to thwart her. He
makes common cause with the rebels who scorn him, and helps them to
murder Riccio, not dreaming for one moment that he is helping on for
himself a like fate, and while he is cruelly vexing his wife, a price is put
upon his head : Mary Stuart falls to him who shall put her husband to
death. The disaster at Kirk-of-Field happens ; the murderers, judges,
and investigators of the guilty, absolve one another : Mary is given to
Bothwell. Suddenly the scene changes : rumour stealthily gains
ground against Mary and Bothwell ; the assassin is named, and Mary is
charged with taking part in the murder; people run to arms on all sides;
Mary leaves Bothwell, gives herself up, and the unfortunate lady is
insulted by the mob, locked up in a prison in the middle of a lake, and
forced to sign her abdication. She escapes from Lochleven Castle, only
to flee to England and throw herself into the arms of her executioner.
Those indeed are disasters to be wept over ; but what most
grieved Mary was to find herself blamed with all the enormities of
which she was the innocent victim, and to know that she was forsaken.
The author of that disorder was the frightful Buchanan, at one time the
trumpeter of Mary's praises. He penned hateful writings, small heaps
of filth, artfully got up, and scattered largely throughout the island
and over the continent. With Elizabeth as the abettor, and Moray
as the soul, the Scottish party lavishly encourage him ; public opinion
is founded on those lying details and the thing is settled.
Time speeds on. Buchanan is the first to acknowledge his crime in
slandering Mary, and, on his death-bed, wishes all he had written of her
to be blotted out. Lady Lennox sets forth in her letters her belief in
the innocence of her daughter-in-law, and has not tears enough to
bewail the wrong which she has done her ; several lords, weaned from
CONCLUSION. 133
their past errors, wish, by dint of courage, to atone for their past
conduct; Kirkaldy forfeits his hfe by returning to the Queen's party ;
Bothwell, a prisoner in Denmark, pubHcly owns Mary's innocence, and
names the assassins. Supposing no other changes in pubHc opinion had
occurred during Mary's Hfe, any prudent man ought to make more
allowances for the Queen, and believe her the victim of a dark intrigue.
The authors of those deep plots have uselessly forged history, mis-
stated facts, and changed dates ; the letters which they familiarly wrote
to each other suffice to convict them of rascality. They are ever at
variance ; they put on an outward show of firmness, and assert the
guilt of their Queen, while in their secret letters, they are seen trem-
bling with fear, lest the light should dawn, and lest the clouds, gathered
together by their hands, should some day vanish into thin air.
Their fears were not vain fears. If some of them succeeded for a
while- — if several of the murderers filled the throne as Regent, they
afterwards fell wretchedly from the lofty, but usurped, height. The
accomplice-band of assassins tore one another to pieces when it came to
the division of the booty. They punished themselves, and accused one
another of the crimes with which they blamed the Queen. They are
all dead : Mary and Elizabeth, Bothwell, Moray, and Morton, have long
been in the grave, and if it were necessary, in the present day, to crown
one of those dead, the generations undeceived, would, with tearful eyes,
place a crown on the brow of the unfortunate Mary Stuart.
DISSERTATIONS AND PROOFS.
X
DISSERTATION I.
RICCIO.
Mary Stuart is guilty because :
I. The cotemporary documents accuse her of excessive familiarity
with Riccio.
II. Her deep love for the foreign musician made her raise him suddenly
to a high position.
III. Those who killed Riccio, did so, to avenge the Kin£s honour ; and
because there could have been no other reason for the m,urder.
I. — Cotemporary Documents.
Two texts especially blacken the fame of Mary Stuart. The first
is Ruthven's Narrative {Bishop Keith, app. ii<^ sq.), and the second,
a letter from Paul de Foix to Catherine de Medicis {Teulet, II.,
264 sq.).
Ruthven's narrative states that Mary behaved with Riccio in a
manner unworthy of her rank and religion, and puts the following
speech into the mouth of Darnley :
" I have good reason for me, for since yonder fellow David came in credit and familiarity
with your Majesty, you neither regarded me, entertained me, nor trusted me after your vyfonted
fashion ; for every day before dinner you were wont to come to my chamber, and past the time
with me, and this long time you have not done so ; and when I came to your Majesty's
chamber, you bare me little company except David had been the third person ; and after supper,
your Majesty used to sit up at the cards with the said David till one or two after midnight.
And this is the entertainment I have had of you this long time. Her Majesty answered that it
was not a gentlewoman's duty to come to her husband's chamber, but rather the husband to come
to the wife's. The King answered : How came you to my chamber in the beginning, and ever
till within these six months, that David fell into familiarity with you? Oram I failed in any sort
in my body ? Or what disdain have you of me ? etc."
That change, according to the Queen's enemies, led Darnley " to
assert that the villain David had dishonoured his bed" {M. Mignet, I.,
208, note), an accusation which the Earl of Bedford reproduced in his
letter to the Councillors of Elizabeth, without, however, attaching any
great importance to it.
VOL. II. s
138 DISSERTATION I.
" It is said," writes he, " that he (Darnley) answered that David had more compagnie of her
boddie then he for the space of two monethes, and therfore, for her honor and his owne
contentement, he gave consent that he sholde be taken awaye." — Ellis, I., ii., 211.
The other document, coming from a French pen, is certainly more
overwhelming for Mary, as it bears the signature of Paul de Foix,
ambassador of France in London.
" Les causes de la mort de David (Riccio) " Of the causes of David's (Riccio) death,
on en allfegue deux principales qui furent man- two main ones are given which were told to
ddes a la Royne d'Angleterre , I'une est que le the Queen of England ; the one is that the
Roy, quelques jours auparavant, environ une King, some days before, about one o'clock in
heure apr&s minuict, seroit all^ heurter ^ la the morning, had gone and knocked at the
Chambre de ladicte dame qui estoit au dessus Queen's chamber, which was above his own ;
de la sienne ; et d'aultant que, aprfes avoir and as, after knocking several times he got no ,
plusieurs fois heurt^ I'on ne luy respondoit answer, he often called to the Queen, begging
point, il auroit appel^ souvant la Royne, la her to open, and at length threatened to break
priant de ouvrir, et enfin la menagant de in the door, upon which she opened it
rompre la porte ; \ cause de quoy elle lui to him. The King found her alone in her
auroit ouvert. La quelle ledict Roy trouva chamber, but after seeking everywhere, he
seule dedans ladicte chambre ; mais ayant found in her closet the said David in his
cherch^ partout il auroit trouv^ dedans son shirt, covered only with a, furred gown, — that
cabinet ledict David en chemise, convert was the chief cause."
seulement d'une robbe fourr^e — qui est la "The other was that the Queen of Scots
principale cause.'' would not consent that he should be crowned
" L'aultre estoit parceque la Royne d'Escosse King, and also that she refused almost every-
nevouloitconsentirniaccord^qu'ilfutcouronnd thing the King asked of her; which he
Roy, et aussi refusoit presque tout ce que le thought was brought about by the advice
Roy luy demandoit ; ce qu'il cuidoit proc^der which the said David gave to the said lady ;
du conseil que ledict David donnoit a ladicte for that reason he had become greatly en-
dame ; k cause de quoy il s'estoit grandement raged."
irrit^." Cf Randolph and Bedford to Cecil.—
Tytler, 111., 218 ; Blackwood, 545.
Ruthven's account is deserving of no belief ; first, because it is
unlikely ; it contains flashes of wit, moral reflections, and fine speeches,
out of keeping with the situation. Mary threatens Ruthyen with the
anger of the King of Spain, the Emperor, the King of France, the
Lorrain Princes, his Holiness the Pope and several Italian Princes.
" Those noble Princes," answers Ruthyen, " are of too high rank to have
anything to do with a poor man like me." What an absurd speech, in
a moment of anger ! " After the murder," says M. Wiesener, " Ruthven
comes back to her (Mary) and reads her a lecture on the duties of
marriage : forthwith, he gets Mary to arrange to meet Darnley. The
latter does not come forward, because he has slept too soundly. A
most unlikely thing indeed!" — M. Wiesener, 72, note 2; secondly,
because " there is in the State Paper Office a joint letter from
Morton and Ruthven, dated the 2d of April 1566, to Cecil, with a draft
of their representation of the slaughter of Davy ; in which letter
DISSERTATION I. 139
Cecil is asked to correct it and send it back, to be circulated in Scotland
and other places, for the staying of false reports. — Chalmers, II., 352,
note u.
That note destroys the little value which Ruthven's account in
itself might have had, and stamps that document as apocryphal.
Bishop Keith observed, one hundred and fifty years ago, that there
were no papers more misleading than those of Cecil ; he adds, that he
has seen in the Cottonian Library, a large number of documents altered
or interpolated by the hand of the minister to damage the reputation of
the Queen of Scots. — Bishop Keith, 364, note g.
The despatch of P. de Foix is not of more value, for the adventure
related as the principal cause of the death of Riccio, happened only some
days before. Now, the conspiracy was already far advanced on the
1 3th of February.
" I know that there are practices in hand, contrived by the father and son, to come by the
Crown against her will. I know that if that take effect which ig intended, David, with the
consent of the King, shall have his throat cut within these ten days." — Randolph's Letter, Tytler,
III., 21 5 ; Caird, 50.
Therefore, the principal cause is inadmissible,
Moreover, it is positively certain that Darnley never, either in
private or in public, reproached the Queen with over-familiarity
with anyone, and that before the Privy Council, six months later, he
even confessed " that she had never given him reason to be displeased."
— Teulet II., 287 ; Bishop Keith, 346. Melville and Knox, so eager to
speak badly of Mary, do not say one word about indecent familiarities ;
the latter merely calls Riccio " foolish," and does not allude to Mary.
Had there been any scandal, the ministers would certainly have taken
advantage of it to defame the Queen of Scots, since they already
inveighed so loudly against her on account of her dress, and Chastelard's
foolhardiness. — Sanderson, 30, 31.
That murder moved the pity of the people, who saw in Riccio only
the Queen's principal secretary, massacred by the nobles jealous of his
influence. The Diurnal of Occyrrents tells of his death in pitiful
words :
" Upon the nynt day of Merche, the yeir of God 1565 yeris, quhilk wes Settirday, at aucht
houris at evin, ane Italiane callit Senyeor Dauid Richio, quha wes principall Secretare to our
Souerane Ladie in the Frenche tong, best belovit be hir 01 all hir seruandis, wes crwellie slane
be the personis," etc. — 89.
Mary is blamed for having, in her excess of love, had her favourite
buried in the Chapel Royal. It is false. George Mariorey banks,
140 DISSERTATION I.
citizen of Edinburgh, and consequently as likely as anybody to know
the truth, writes that he was buried in Holyrood Cemetery :
" He was buried in the Kirk Yaird of Holyroodhouse " (i8).
Balfour confirms that particular (I., 334).
Mary may have had the body disinterred at a later period, to bury
it in the Chapel Royal ; it is even almost certain that she did so ; but
such a course would not prove that she was in love with Riccio, for we
still see now-a-days several graves of men less high in rank than was
the secretary, who, nevertheless, were buried in the Chapel Royal
during the sixteenth century. Paul de Foix, no doubt unaware of that,
wrote to France :
" EUe a faict desterrer le cors du diet David " She has had the body of the said David
du cimetierre ou il estoit et I'a remis dedans removed from the cemetery in which it lay,
I'esghse en une sepulture honorable, au rang and has had it put in the church, in an
des Rois." Paul de Foix to Catherine de honourable place of burial among the dust of
Medicis. — Teulet, 266. kings."
Mackenzie does not seem to have been convinced of the truth of
the account given by Paul de Foix, for instead of the " sepulture
honorable" and the "rang des Rois" he tamely says, quoting Mary
Stuart herself and the Bishop of Ross :
" He was buried in the porch of the church '' (III., 286),
But if the Queen was guiltless of that, how have the unfortunate
reports of misbehaviour been noised among the people ?
" La prima resolution che fu fatta era che " They first made up their minds to kill him
fosse ammazzato dentro un castello chiamato in a castle named Seton. ... At another time,
Setton. . . . Un'altra volta proposero di amma- they proposed to murder him during a game
zarlo in un giuoco di palla ove era solito spesso at tennis, which he often played at with the
di giuoccare insieme con il Re. Uno dei com- King. One of the accomplices said that it
plici disse non esser buono di farlo in quel was not good to do the act in such a place,
luogho, all'assenza della Reina, per rispetto dei and in the absence of the Queen, owing to the
popolr, ma che facendolo alia presenza di lei people ; but that if he were killed in her pre-
et in camera sua, li popoli si sarian creduti che sence and in her room, the people must believe
egli fosse stato trovato in atto tale che il Re that they had been found in such a position
non harebbe potuto di meno che farlo morire that the King could not do less than put him
allora." — Mhnoires Italiens, Prince Labanoff, to death at once."
VII., 72.
The Queen of England hastened to take advantage of that disposi-
tion on the part of the conspirators.
" Fece scrivere per il suo secretario Cecille " She caused her secretary, Cecil, to spread
per tutto il Regno, che la causa di tutto il sud- in writing throughout the kingdom that the
detto era perch^ il Re haveva trovato il detto cause of the above-mentioned (murder) was
Ricciolo a dormire con la Regina. // che non the King finding the said Riccio in bed with
fu niai vera" — Awisi di Scotia, Prince Lab an- the Queen, which never happened."
off, VII., 62.
DISSERTATION I.
141
II. — Her Deep Love for the Foreign Musician made her raise him Suddenly
TO A HIGH Position.
That Riccio rose from nothing, no one can deny : his birth seemed
to promise him only a modest career. The Count de Morette, on his
journey to Scotland, brought him as secretary, and through that he
came into notice.
" II Conte di Moretta men6 seco allora per
segretario un David Riccio di Pancalieri in
Piemonte, il qual nell'istessa maniera haveva
prima servito Monsignor I'Arcivescovo di
Turino, cognato di esso Signore, et molto
bene explicava il suo concetto nell'idioma
italiano et francese, et particolarmente era
buon musico, dove che la Reina facendo dir
sempre la messa nel suo palazzo, poiche era
tomato e pur assai desiderando d'havere una
compagnia di musici, oltre che essa si diletta
a cantare et sonare di viola, ordino al marchese
suo zio di pregar il Conte di Moretta a esser
contento concedergli per segretario David; il
che fatto et lasciato in Scozia, la Reina lo fece
varletto di camera sua et dapoi lo creb segre-
tario." — Mem. Italiens, VII., 65.
" The Count di Moretta then took with him
as secretary, a man who had filled the same
office with his Grace the Archbishop of Turin,
a relative of that lord. The man was David
Riccio, of Pancalieri in Piedmont, and he was
able to express himself well in both Italian and
French. He was, moreover, a good musician ;
and as the Queen, since her return from
France, always had mass said in her palace
(without taking into account that she delighted
in singing and playing the rebeck), she ordered
the Marquis, her uncle, to beg of the Count di
Moretta to be so good as leave her his secre-
tary, David. That request having been granted,
Riccio remained in Scotland, and the Queen
made him her valet, and afterwards her secre-
tary."
He succeeded Raulet in that function. In another despatch,
addressed from Edinburgh (8th October) to the same Grand Duke of
Tuscany, the following new particulars are found :
"Al partire di detto Monsignor di Moretto
di Scotia, resto detto Davit con la buona
gratia del suo padrone al servitio della Regina
per valet di camera, dove che servendo bene et
fedelmente, et facendo esperientia delle sue
virtu, a capo di due anni incirca, fu fatto secre-
tario di Sua Maestk, et in quel' offitio riusci si
bene che la piu gran parte de negotij di quel
Regno passavano per le sue manj, et in ogne
espeditione si governava con si buon consiglio,
et conduceva a si buona esequtione, che n'era
molto amato da Sua Maestk, et cosi mostravano
amarlo et honoralo la piii gran parte de S'ignori
gentilhominj et populi di quel Regno." — Mem.
Ital., VII., 87.
"When the said Count di of Moretta left
Scotland, the said David remained, with his
master's consent, in the service of the Queen,
as valet. Seeing that he did his duty properly
and faithfully, and that his good qualities
shone more from day to day, he was, in the
space of two years, made Secretary to her
Majesty. He succeeded so well in that
charge, that the greater part of the affairs of
the kingdom^ went through his hands ; and he
acted with so much prudence in all his under-
takings, and brought them to so happy an end,
that her Majesty loved him much for it, and
that the most of the lords, gentlemen and
people of Scotland pretended to love and
honour him also.''
The passage contains two distinct statements : ist, Riccio rendered
great services to the Queen ; 2d, Riccio was esteemed by the principal
members of the aristocracy.
It does not enter into my subject to study what services Riccio may
have rendered to the Queen as secretary, properly so called, but, as a
142 DISSERTATION I.
politician, he promoted Mary Stuart's interests in a very important affair.
The marriage of the Queen with Darnley, which Riccio favoured, was
a grand scheme, since by it the two nearest heirs to the throne of
England were united. True it is, the marriage turned out badly, and
the good expected from it never came ; but Riccio, no more than any
other, could foresee that fatal end. The political object, however, had
been attained, and the modest secretary might well exclaim, on thinking
of his work : — ■
" Laudato sia Dio ! che le nozze non si " God be praised ! the marriage can no
potranno piii disturbare," — Mem, Ital., 90. longer be hindered."
Spottiswoode, referring to the marriage, does not hesitate to call
Riccio a man "of politic wit" (II., 27).
With reference to the honours which were lavished upon him by all
the nobles, let it suffice me to say that Moray, the Prince of the Scottish
nobility, after his rebellion,
" had sutted him very ernestly, and mair humbly then any man wald haue beleued, with the
present of a faire dyamont, inclosed within a lettre full of repentance, and faire promyses fra
that tym fourth to be his frend and protectour." — Sir James Melville's Memoirs, Bannatyne
Club Edition, 147.
" Great men made court unto him," writes Kjiox (IV,, 303).
A great number of the cotemporary writers, and those of a later
date, who have treated the Riccio question seriously, pass a flattering
eulogium on the Piedmontese. Lord Herries calls him " an active
politick man, whose counsell the Queen made use of in her greatest
affairs." — Memoirs, 69. Brantome says that ; " comme il estoit homme
d'esprit, la Reine I'aimoit pour le maniment de ses affaires." — Discours
sur Marie Stuart. Eytzinger depicts him as a man, " prudent, sagace
et ruse. — Eytzinger MS., 9.
Those texts justify, I think, the elevation of Riccio and the esteem
in which Mary always held him.
in. — Those who killed Riccio, did so to avenge the King's honour, because
THERE COULD HAVE BEEN NO OTHER REASON FOR THE MURDER.
Ruthven, if his word can be believed, said to the Queen at the time
of the murder : —
" He (Riccio) hath offended your honour, which I dare not be so bold as to speak of." —
Riithveris Narrative, Keith app., 123.
Craufurd says that the nobles killed Riccio in the Queen's chamber, to
DISSERTATION I.
143
" fasten a reproach upon the Queen's honour, by having made her husband the prime agent in
the execution of the affair, as if he liad suspected her virtue, and had engaged in the business
on that score alone." — Memoirs, 7.
Buchanan, book xvii., cap. 56 of his History, writes :
" Cum plura clandestinus rumor (ut in rebus
minus honestis fieri solet) mussaret ; Rex
tamen certus, nisi re explorata, nemini credere,
accepto, Davidem cubiculum Reginae ingres-
sum, ipse ad ostiolum cujus clavem se penes
semper habebat, accessit, ac praeter jijorem
interius oppessulatum invenit. Cum pulsanti
nemo responderet, ingentem_ irarum molem
animo coquens, noctem eam prope ingomnem
egit."
As those things were taking place openly,
and secret rumour (as always happens in
matters of scandal) was publishing much more,
the King thought he could rely on no one with-
out looking into the matter for himself, and
having learned that Riccio had entered the
Queen's chamber, he gently approached the
small door, of which he had the key ; finding
it shut from the inside contrary to the usual, he
knocked, and as he got no answer, he thought
of a thousand means of revenge, and spent
nearly the whole night awake.
That is the adventure related by Paul de Foix, and refuted in the
first paragraph. The historian continues :
" Ex illo, paucis e dgmesticls adhibitis . .
de Davide tollendo consultat."
" Having then taken some servants ....
he consults with them on the means of killing
David."
It is clear, from the foregoing, that Riccio's alleged intercourse with
the Queen, was made the pretext to murder him. The real cause was
quite different, for the luckless Piedmontese died only through the
jealousy of the nobles.
In the despatch which was sent from Scotland to Cosmo I., and
which I have already quoted, it is said that ;
" Hora venendo agli orecchi di Lenox padre
del Re, et agli suoi parenti, che il principal
Bemico di casa loro (Chatellerault) col mezzo
di David haveva ottenuta la grazia, comincia-
rono tutti a pensare di vendicarsi e trovar
modo di haver la corona matrimoniale, che era
quella che da una Reina nel grado come si trova
hoggi questa vien data al Re suo marito, et
non fe quella che h ordinaria per successione,
rispondendo i banditi che il Conte di Lenox
non era piu contento che tanto di cosi fatto
procedere, hebbon mezzo di fargli intendere se
fosse per comportare che David havesse piu
credito con la Reina che lui et il proprio Re,
suo figliuolo et marito di lei, aggiungendo per
avventura piu cose assai che non erano vere." —
Mem. Ital., 71.
" The earl of Lennox, the King's father, and
his relatives, having heard that the chief
enemy of their house had obtained his pardon
by means of David, began to think of beiftg
revenged, and of finding the means to procure
the crown-matrimonial, which is that by which
a Queen raises the King, her husband, to her
present grandeur, and not that which is usual
by succession. The conspirators noticing that
the Earl of Lennox was not satisfied with what
had taken place, found means to make him
understand, that he was not to allow that
David should have more influence over the
Queen, than he or his son the King, husband
of that same Queen ; to which they added, at
random, a certain number of things which
were not triieP
Not only the family of Lennox, but a large majority of the nobles
felt hurt at being governed by a foreigner ; hatred accumulated by
144 DISSERTATION I.
degrees, and Presbyterian fanaticism assisted the pride of the lords,
in getting up a conspiracy against that Itahan who " governed at
pleasure." — Calderwood, 164.
" David," writes Randolph, on the 3d of June, 1565, " now worketh all, and is only governor
to the King and his family ; great is his pride, and his words intolerable." — Bishop Keith, 282.
" David," he writes again, eight months later, " yet retayneth still his place, not without
hart-griefe to many that see their soveraigne gwided chiefly by such a fellowe." — Stevenson's
Illust., 153.
He imprudently set himself forward as superior to the Scots,
" and," says Melville, " occupied Hir Maiesteis earof tymes, in presens of the Nobilite, and when
ther was gretest conventions of the estatis ; quhilk maid hym to be sa invyed and hatted, cheifly
when he grew sa gret, that he presented all signatours to be subscryuit be Hir Maieste, that
some of the nobilite wald glowm upon hym, and some of them wald schulder hym and schut
hym by, when they entrit in the chamber, and fand hym always speaking with Hir Maieste." —
Sir James Melville's Memoirs, Bannat. Club, 132.
Knox confirms those particulars :
" This David Riccio was so foolish, that not only he had drawn unto him the managing of
all affairs, the King (being) set aside, but also his equipage and train surpass the King's ; and at
the Parliament, that was to be, he was ordained to be Chancellor ; which made the Lords
CONSPIRE AGAINST HIM."- — Knox's Reform., V., 342.
The religious zeal of the nobles increased the hatred they felt at being
looked down upon by a foreigner. Riccio was said to be in receipt of
a pension from the Pope {Melville, 136), and that made him odious to
the Protestants.
" The said slaughter," wrote Morton and Ruthven, after the deed, " (was) moved upon no
particular quarrel of ours, but were sollicited thereunto by the King, whose hatred was so great
against the said Davy, that he intended to have done the same with his own hand, if we had
not assisted his Grace therein. And finding the King so bent against the said Davy, who was
a pestilent counsellor to the Queen's Majesty, our Sovereign, against the nobility, common well
of our country, the religion, forfeiture of our brethern then banished for the time, we thought it
meet and convenient to labour for the relief of our brethern .... we are in trouble for the
relief of our brethern and the religion." — Goodall, I., 264.
The bond of assassination was based on the same reasons : — -
" A paper was signed which included thrie things — to bring home the banished Lords, to
establish the Reformed Relligion, and to cutt off Signior Davie by some means or other." —
Herrie^ Memoirs, 76 ; Sandei'son, 41 ; Mackenzie, III., 66, 67.
In the " Informacione for my Lord of Bedford,'' the murderers
express themselves thus :
" For in veritye nether we, our frendes, assistars, nor pertakers, mened any other thinge in
our proceedinges — but the establishinge of the religion, conservacion of the amytie betwixt the
tow realmes (England and Scotland) and the relief of our frendes." — Stevenson's Illust., iii<).
Knox applauded from the pulpit, that murder which delivered the
DISSERTATION I. 145
Reformed Church from its most terrible enemy {Ty tier's History, III.,
403), and Bedford exclaimed : —
"now, that this enemy of religion is taken away, everything will go well." — Chalmers, I., 259.
I think I have said enough to show that Mary is innocent :
1st, Because the cotemporary documents which accuse her of
criminal intrigues with Riccio are of no value.
2d, Because that foreigner was suddenly raised for good reasons.
3d, Because he was put to death for the good of the country and
religion, and by no means for his imputed familiarities with the Queen.
VOL. II.
DISSERTATION I I.
MARY IN HER RELATIONS WITH DARNLEY AND BOTHWELL.
Mary is guilty of the murder of Darnley because :
I . She 7iever loved her husband.
1 1 . He was mti,rdered by her orders, and she did not show the slightest
grief.
III. She has against her :
1 . I/er letters written to Bothwell.
2. The depositions of the accomplices who were punished for
sharing in the King's miirder.
3. The attitude asstimed by the family of Lennox, which, instead
of removing froin her, would have drawn nearer to her,
had not her conduct been criminal.
IV. She married the murderer of her husband after having had him
acquitted.
I.— She never loved her husband.
The enemies of the Queen of Scots try to prove her guilt in the
murder by descanting on the coldness she showed to her husband
while they lived together. Moray, at the Westminster Conferences,
heads his first Count of Indictment :
" The first part contenis the alteratioun of the said Quenis affectioun fra vmquhile king
henrie our Souerane lordes father hir lauchfull husband of gude memory In converting hir
ardent lufe towardis him in extreme disdayn and deidlie hatrent." — Book of Articles, Hosack.
Historians have, it is true, somewhat softened down the terms, and
have chosen to attribute to Mary, coldness, rather than hatred, for her
husband. The case, however, remains unchanged ; for, on both sides,
blame is attached to Mary, and Darnley is depicted as an artless youth
ever seeking, but in vain, to touch the heart of his unfeeling wife. I do
not like to swell out, with particulars, a discussion which threatens to be
DISSERTATION II. i47
long; I should fear to weary the reader. Yet it is of importance to
point out exactly, and from the first, on which side lie the faults.
Those who pretend that Mary, immediately after marriage, took a
special delight in mortifying her husband, are ignorant of history, or
anxious to mislead the reader. Melville writes :
" Sche did him gret honour hir self, and willit euery ane that wald deserue hir fauour till do
the lyk." — Melville's Memoirs, Bmmatyne Club, 1 37.
She confers upon him the title of King, ordering : —
"That all letters to be directed after the marriage and during the continuance thaireof
should be in his name and her name, as King and Queen of Scotland conjunctly." "All honour,"
says Randolph, " that may be attribute unto any man by a wife, he hath it wholly and fully. All
praise that may be spoken of him, he laketh not from herself All dignities that she can endow
him with, are already given and granted. No man pleaseth her that contenteth not him. And
what may I say more ? She hath given over unto him her whole will, to be ruled and guided as
himself best liketh. She can as much prevail with him in anything that is against his will, as
your Lordship may with me, to persuade that I should hang myself ; this last dignity, out of
hand, to have him proclaimed King, she would have had deferred until it were agreed by Parlia-
ment, or till he himself had been twenty-one years of age, that things done in his name might
have the better authority. He would in no case have it deferred one day ; and either now or
never." — Goodall, I., 222 ; Robertson, app., xi.
Mary was not satisfied with promising ; she gave Darnley, not only
as much, but more than she had a right to give.
" This doubt," continues Randolph, " is risen amongst our men of law, whether she being
clad with a husband, and her husband not twenty-one years, anything without Parliament can
be of strength, that is done between them." — Robertson, app., xi.
The coins bore the effigies of Darnley and Mary, with the exergue
Henricus et Maria. {Bishop Keith, app., 165.) He signed, as King, the
passports of Tamworth, and it was not Mary's fault that Darnley's acts
were not looked upon as royal. England, however, refused to recog-
nise them, because the English envoy could not acknowledge him King.
{Bishop Keith, app., 164.)
In November 1565, he wrote in kingly form to the Laird of Loch-
leven :
"Our pleasure is also that ye restrayne," &c. — Henry R. (Registrum honoris de Morton), 14.
In the same work is found a warrant "to charge James Erie of
Mortoun, Patrick Lord Ruthven, and Patrick Lord Lindesay of the
Byres, and utheris," beginning with these words : —
" Henry and Marie be the Grace of God King and Quene of Scottis, To our louittis Peter
Thomson," &c.
What, during that time, is Darnley's conduct ? On the 3d of
July 1565, Randolph writes to Leicester:
148 DISSERTATION II.
" He is of an insolent imperious temper, and thinks that he is never sufficiently honoured.
The Queen does every thing to oblige him, tho' he cannot be prevailed upon to yield the smallest
thing to please her. He claims the crown-matrimonial and will have it immediately: the Queen
tells him that that must be delayed till he be of age, and done by consent of Parliament ; which
does not satisfy him." — Bishop Keith, app., 163.
He asked what Mary could not of her own free will give him ; to
get the Crown-matrimonial, the nation must recognise Darnley as its
King, and associate him with the throne by a decree of Parliament.
Mary busied herself to have that done.
" The fourth day of May, the earl of Murray came to Stirling, where he was well received
by the Queen's Majesty, as appeared, and immediately, as he passed with her to my lord Darn-
ley's chamber, they presented to him a contract, containing in effect, that forasmuch as, or since,
the Queen had contracted marriage with the lord Darnley ; and that therefore sundry lords of
the nobility had underwritten, ratified and approved the same ; and obliged themselves to con-
tract unto him in full parliament the crown matrimonial . . to serve and obey him and her
as their lauchful Sovereigns. The Queen desired my lord Murray to subscribe, as many others
had done before, which he refused to do ; ' Because,' said he, ' it is required necessarily that the
whole nobility be present, at least the principal, and such as he himself was posterior unto,
before that so grave a matter should be advised and concluded.' The Queen's Majesty, no ways
content with this answer, insisted still upon him, saying, the greatest part of the nobility were
there present and content with the matter . . but he still refused for the causes above written."
— Knox's Reform,, V., 325.
The feeble Prince, tired of waiting, laid the blame on the secretary
Riccio, and gave grounds for the ruin of Mary's reputation. That
odious crime, which shows deep-rooted ingratitude in the Prince, is fully
proved by the cotemporary documents.
"I know," writes Randolph (February 1566) "that there are practices in hand contrived
between the father and son (Lennox and Darnley) to come by the crown against her will." —
Tytler, III., 215.
On the 6th of March he gives full particulars, by saying that Darnley
wishes to get the Crown-matrimonial and rid himself of Riccio, who has
outraged his honour, and he adds : —
" If persuasions to cause the Queen to yield to these matters do no good, they purpose to
proceed we know not in what sort. If she be able to make any power at home, she shall be
withstood, and herself kept from all other counsel than her own nobility. If she seek any
foreign support, the Queen's Majesty, our Sovereign (Elizabeth) shall be sought, and sued to
accept her and their defence, with offers reasonable to her Majesty's contentment." Bedford
and Randolph's Letter. — Tytler, III., 218.
Darnley's conspiracy, however, did not escape Blackwood, perhaps
the shrewdest among the historians living at the time of Mary Stuart.
Speaking of Riccio, he said :
" Son maistre le haissoit grandement, tant " His master hated him greatly, because he
k cause qu'il auoit trauaill^ pour le rdtablisse- had worked to restore the house of Hamilton,
ment de la maison d'Hamilton, dont il estoit whose enemy he was, and because he not only
ennemy, qu' k cause que non seulement 11 refused to join in, but also revealed to the
DISSERTATION II. 149
refusa de signer, mais aussi reuela k la Royne Queen, a certain conspiracy got up between
certaine conspiration conclue entre son Altesse his Highness and the rebels, the object of
et les rebelles, dont la r(5solution estoit de which was to confine her Majesty in a castle,
renfermer sa Maiest^ en vn chasteau, sous in good and safe keeping, and to take upon
bonne et seure garde, afin de s'attribuer toute himself all authority, and the entire govern-
I'authorit^ et I'entier gouvernement du Roy- ment of the kingdom."
aume." — Blackwood, 545.
He murders the unfortunate secretary, then breaks his engagements
with the nobles, who owe him a fearful grudge for it.
" The people,'' writes Randolph, " hate him, because he has broken his oath to the con-
spirators." — Randolph to Cecil. — Bishop Keith, App., 167.
After the murder of Riccio, the nobles thought they had only to
tell the Queen how it had happened, to ruin Darnley. Consequently,
"llegados pues de Inglaterra todos los "all the friends and allies of the Earl of
amigos y confederados del conde de Morray, Moray, coming from England and learning
y conociendo que la Reyna mostrava alguna that the Queen showed displeasure towards
ira con su marido, procuraron que le repudi- her husband, entreated her to disown him, as
asse, assi por su vida dissoluta, como por la much for his dissolute life as for the murder of
muerte del secretario ; de la qual ellos afir- the secretary, of which they asserted he was
mavan, que el solo avia sido el autor, y que the sole author, and because he had defamed
avia disfamado por el mundo a su Magestad, her Majesty in the eyes of the whole world,
y con muchos falsos testimonies, qte contra and with much false testimony that he had
ella avia escrito con esta ocasion." — Herrera, written against her on that occasion."
76.
Another time, they proposed to her to throw Darnley into prison,
and laid before her for signature a Warrant of execution. Deposition
of Th. Crawford. Miss Strickland, III., 104. Mary, instead of
hearkening to that perfidious language, forbade, under severe penalties,
an ill word to be said of her husband.
" La Reyna no queriendo que su marido " The Queen, not wishing that her husband
quedasse manchado de la muerte del secre- should remain branded with the secretary's
tario, con publico bando puso pena de la murder, issued a public order threatening with
vida y rebelion a quien hablasse mal del, y the penalty of death and forfeiture any one who
dixesse que era complice en la muerte di should speak ill of him, or say that he had a
David Rizo su secretario." — Herrera, 72. hand in the murder of David Riccio, her
secretary."
The nobles became more threatening: the wild conduct of the young
King since he came into Scotland had raised in them no bright hopes ; he
had estranged from himself every heart ; and, while still a private person,
he wished to stab Lord Ruthven, who was telling him that the con-
ferring of the title of Duke of Albany upon him was put off for a time.
— {Stevenson, 139.)
" To all honest men," writes Randolph (21st May 1565) "he is intolerable, and almost
forgetful of his duty to her already that hath adventured so much for his sake." — Von
Raumer, 48.
ISO DISSERTATION II.
Scarcely was he a King, when he shocked his father by his disdainful
manners.
" The young King," writes Cecil, " is so insolent, as his father is weary of his government,
and is departed from the Court." Cecil to Smith, ist September 1565. — Ellis, II., ii., 303.
Such conduct gave rise to mistrust, and bred in the minds of the
people a secret hatred which awaited only a fair time to come to light.
Meanwhile, Mary supported her unworthy husband, and still put Darn-
ley's name before her own in the public acts. {Bishop Keith, App., 130,
131.) Another affront was necessary to break the Queen's forbearance ;
it came, and Mary, with grief and shame, saw him, whom she had raised
so high, openly wallowing in the mire of vice. {Knox, V., 352 ; Bishop
Keith, 329 ; Sanderson, 47.) Public opinion demanded a separation be-
tween husband and wife. Mary, with rare discretion, managed to do
her duty both as wife and Queen ; she merely ceased to bring Darnley's
name into affairs, and saw him less often ; but she did not forsake him
even in his most foolish strayings. About to become a mother, upon
him, again, she bestows her first thoughts in her short will. She men-
tioned him first, and bequeathed to him a diamond ring ; on the right
of the description are seen these words half blotted out by tears — " Au
roy qui me I'a donnee. i^' Facsimile in Hosack.)
Meanwhile the English party and the Queen's enemies spread
reports hurtful to her. They said that she forsook him entirely, and
would not see him more ; also that she spoke ill of him.
I shall call the reader's attention to the following passage in Mel-
ville :
" It wes a paruersit tym, and the mair that the nomber of hir frendis increassit in England,
the ma practyses hir enemys maid, and the monyer lyes the invented against her." — Melvill^s
Memoirs, 170.
"The Queene," writes Randolph (3d August 1 566) " and her husbande agree after thold
maner or rather worse ; she eateth but verie seldome with him, but lyeth not nor kepeth no
company with him, nor loveth any suche as love him. He is so farre out of her bookes as at
her going from the Castell of Edenboroughe to remove abrode he knewe nothing thereof. It
cannot for modestie nor with the honour of a Queene be reported what she said of him." —
Stevenson, 164.
That passage is very severe. It is expressly contradicted by a
letter of du Croc, which relates a conversation with Darnley as fol-
lows :
" II me dit, ce qu'il a fait souvent, qu'il voul- " He said to me, as he has often done, that
loit retourner comma il estoit la premifere fois he wished to be again as he was at first, after
quand il fut maryd. Je I'asseurd qu'il n'y his marriage. I assured him he should never
retournera jamais ; que s'il estoit bien, il s'y be so, and told him that if he were comfort-
DISSERTATION II.
151
able, he ought to remain so ; that the Queen
was offended, and not likely to entrust him
again with the authority he had before, and
that he ought to be quite satisfied with the
honour and kindness that she shows him,
treating him and honouring him as the King
her husband, and keeping his house well sup-
plied in all things."
debvoit tenir, et qu'il ne se trouvera poinct que
la Royne estant offencde en sa personne, que
jamais elle luy doibve remettre I'auctoritd qu'il
avoit auparavant, et qu'il se doibt bien con-
tenter de I'honneur et bonne chfere qu'elle luy
faict, le traictant et honorant comme le roy
son mary et lui entretient fort bien sa maison
de toutes choses." Du Croc k Catherine de
M^dicis. — Teulet, II., 290 ; Prince Labanoff,
I» 376.
That letter is confirmed by the one which the members of the
Privy Council wrote to Catherine de Medicis. They relate, in the
following terms, the welcome which the Queen offered Darnley on his
arrival in Edinburgh, whither, according to Bedford, he came in spite
of her.
" The same evening, the King came to Edinburgh, but made some difficulty to enter into
the palace, by reason that three or four Lords were at that time present with the Queen, and
peremptorily insisted that they might be gone before he would condescend to come in ; which
deportment appeared to be abundantly unreasonable, since they were three of the greatest
Lords in the kingdom, and that those Kings who by their own birth were Sovereigns of the
Realm, have never acted in that manner towards the nobility. The Queen, however, received
this behaviour as decently as was possible, and condescended so far as to go to meet the King
without the palace, and so conducted him into her own apartment, where he remained all night,
and then her Majesty entered calmly with him upon the subject of his going abroad, that she
might understand from himself the occasion of such a resolution. But he would by no means
give it." — Bishop Keith, 348.
That passage is peculiar in this, that it mentions Mary's rare tender-
ness for her husband, and the wild idea that the latter had of leaving
Scotland. The description which the French ambassador, an eye-witness,
has left us of the interview betwixt Mary and Darnley, leaves no doubt
that the Queen behaved in a most attentive manner to the poor madman.
I give the passage : —
" Le Comte de Lenos escrivit k la Royne
qu'il avoyt trouvd le Roy en deliberation de
s'en aller et passer la mer, et que, pour ce
faire, il avoyt ung navire tout prest ; qu'il ne
I'avoit jamais sceu divertir. II prioit sa
Majeste de regarder d'y faire ce qu'elle pourra.
" La Royne recent la lettre le jour de St
Michel au matin, et le Roy arriva le soir a dix
heures en nuict, et, estant Leurs Majest^s en-
semble, la Royne lui parla de ce que contenoit
ladite lettre, le pryant luy dire I'occasion de
son all^e, et si estoit qu'il se plaignist d'elle.
II ne luy en voullut rien dire. Et, considerant
la Royne de combien importoit son voyage,
feist fort sagement et fut bien advisde d'envoyer
querir soudain tous les Seigneurs et autres de
son Conseil, et aussi me manda. Estans tous
" The Earl of Lennox wrote to the Queen
that he had found the King thinking of going
across the sea, and that, for the purpose, he.
had a ship quite ready. The Earl added that
he was unable to shake his son's resolution,
and begged her Majesty to see what she could
do in the matter.
" The Queen received the letter on Michael-
mas Day, in the morning, and the King arrived
in the evening, at ten o'clock. When their
Majesties were together, the Queen spoke to
her husband about the contents of the said
letter, asking him the reason for his going,
and if he had reason to complain of her. He
would give her no answer; and, considering
the importance of that voyage, the Queen did
very wisely, and was well advised to send at
152
DISSERTATION II.
once for all her Lords and other members ot
her Council, I being called among the rest.
When all were assembled, the Bishop of Rosse,
at the Queen's command, mentioned in the
King's presence his proposed journey, and
that the proof of it, which the Queen had, was
a letter the Earl of Lennox had written to her,
the which was read.
" The Queen made a very fine speech, and
then prayed and begged him with all her might
to declare, in the presence of all, if she had given
him any reason for so acting ? and entreated
him, for God's sake, and most earnestly, not
to spare her. The Lords also tQld him that
they noticed he looked upon them unfavour-
ably, and that they did not know if they were
the cause of his going. They begged him to
state wherein they had offended him. For my
part, I said his journey touched the Queen's
honour and his own ; that if he went away
with good reason, it would cast a slur on the
Queen ; but that, if he went otherwise, it could
not be praiseworthy in him. Despite many
words, we could not get an answer: at last he
declared that reason he had none. The Queen
said she was satisfied, and we all told her that
she ought to be satisfied; and I added, in
accordance with my office, that I should
everywhere bear witness to the truth of what
I had seen and might see. Yet in despair,
without reason as he declared, he went away,
bidding the Queen farewell without kissing
her, and assuring her Majesty that she should
not see him again for a long time.' In this
manner we remained beside the Queen, your
daughter-in-law, who was very much consoled,
begging her to be always good and virtuous, to
be neither sad nor vexed about the matter, and
telling her that the truth should be known
everywhere."
On the 1 5th of October the same ambassador said :
" I never saw her Majesty so much beloved, esteemed and honoured, nor so great a harmony
amongst all her subjects as at present is, by her wise conduct, for I cannot perceive the smallest
difference or division." — Bishop Keith, 346.
After that, what becomes of the filthy trash of the Berwick corre-
spondence ?
Mary is taken ill at Jedburgh : how does Darnley receive that news ?
He goes on hunting, without deigning to look near his dying wife. So
careless is he about his wife, that the ambassador of France writes :
" Le Roy est k Glasco et n'est point venu " The King is in Glasgow, and has not yet
icy. Si est ce qu'il a €\.€ adverty par quelqu'un come here, though he was informed by some
assemblez, I'^vesque de Rosse, par le com-
mandement de la Royne, proposa le voyage
du Roy en sa presence ; et le tesmoignage que
la Royne en avoyt estoyt une lettre que Mon-
sieur le Comte de Lenos luy avoyt escripte,
laquelle fust leue.
" La Royne feit une fort belle harangue, et
aprfes le pria et le persuada de toute sa puis-
sance declarer en la presence de tons si c'est
occasion qu'elle luy ayt donnfee ? Et le pria,
en I'honneur de Dieu et k joinctes mains, ne
I'espargner poinct. Aussi les Seigneurs luy
dirent qu'ilz se voyeoient bien recepvoir ung
mauvais visage de luy et qu'ilz ne savoient
s'ilz estoient cause de son allde. lis le priferent
de leur dire en quoy ils Font ofifens^ ? De ma
part, je dis que son voyage import oit de
I'honneur de la Royne ou du Sien : que, s'il
s'en alloit avec occasion, cela touchoit k la
Royne; de s'en aller autrement, il ne luy
pouvoit estre louable. Nous ne pouvions
avecques beaucoup de propos tirer une r&olu-
tion ; k la fin il ddclara que d'occasion il n'en
avoyt poinct. La Royne dist qu'elle se con-
tentoit, et aussi nous luy criasmes tous qu'elle
se debvoyt contenter; et je dis, suyvant ma
charge que je tesmoignerois partout k la v^rit^
de ce que j'aurois veu et que je verrois. Sy est
que, en ce desespoir, sans occasion, comme il
ddclara, il s'en alia et dist adieu la Royne sans
la baiser, I'asseurant que Sa Majesty ne le
verroit de longtemps. De ceste fagon nous
demeurasmes auprSs de la Royne, votre belle-
fille, qui fust fort bien consolWe, et la priasmes
continuer d'estre toujours sage et vertueuse, et
de ne se attrister ny en ce s'ennuyer et que la
vdrit^ seroit bien congneue partout." — Teulet,
II., 291.
DISSERTATION II.
IS3
et a eu du temps assez pour venir s'il eust
vouUu ; c'est une faute' que je ne puis excuser."
— Bishop Keith, App. 133, 135.
What reasons could he have for
" De tout ce qui a jamais peu venir k notre
congnoissance, il n'a nulle occasion de se
plaindre, ains au contraire de s'estimer Fung
des fortunez princes de la Chrestient^ s'il re-
congnoissoit son bonheur et se sauroyt aider
de la bonne fortune que Dieu luy a mis entre
les mains ; encores que, par les lettres qu'il a
comme dist est, depuis escrit \ Sa Majestd, il
louche deux poinctz sur lesquelz il fonde ses
doU^ances : c'est que Sa Majesty ne lui donne
I'auctorit^ et ne se donne pas si grand peine de
I'advancer et de le faire honorer au pais comme
elle a fait du commancement ; I'autre qu'il n'est
suyvy de personne et que toute la noblesse a
abandonne sa compagnie. A ces pointz, Sa
Majestd a respondu qu'il ne faut point, si ainsi
est, qu'il se preigne a elle, ains k luy mesmes,
car du commancement elle luy a tant faict
d'honneur qu'elle s'en est mal trouvee depuis,
et que le credit, auquel elle I'a mis, a servi
d'ombre k ceulx qui ont si griefvement offens^
Sa Majesty ; mais qu'elle lui a porte si grand
respect que, encores que ceux qui ont perp^trd
le meurtre d'un sien fidel serviteur soient entrez
en sa cbambre soubz son adieu, I'ayant suiviz
au dos, et I'ayant nommez chef de leur entre-
prise, si n'a elle vouUu jamais I'acuser, ains I'a
toujours excus^, et est contante de faire
semblant de ne rien croire. Au demourant il
ne tient qu'k luy s'il n'est bien suivi; elle lui a
offert, comme elle fait tousjours, ceux qui sent
k ses gages. Quant k la noblesse, ilz se tien-
nent k la court et se rendent subjectz selon
qu'ils ont des afaires et que I'on leur fait bon
visage; qu'il a mis si peu de peine k les
gaigner, et k se faire aymer d'eulx, mesmes
ayant deffandu sa chambre k des Seigneurs
que sa Majesty, du commancement avoit mis
auprfes de luy, que si la noblesse I'abandonne,
ses ddportements envers eux en sont cause.
S'il veult estre suivi, il fault qu'il se face pre-
miferement aymer et pour ce faire, qu'il se
rende amyable, autrement il sera trop mal
ais€ k Sa Majestd d'y donner ordre, princi-
pallement de les faire consentir qu'il ayt le
maniement des affaires entre ses mains. A
quoy ilz ne consentiront jamais, et (Sa Majeste)
ne les trouve aulcunement disposez d'y consen-
tir par cy-apprfes." — Teulet, II. , 288.
VOL. II.
one, and has had plenty of time to come if he
'had wished : it is a fault which I cannot ex-
cuse."
SO behaving ?
" From all we have been able to learn, he
has no reason to complain, but ought, on the
contrary, to think himself one of the most
fortunate princes in Christendom, if he knew
his happiness, and could take advantage of the
good fortune that God has put in his hands ;
yet, by letters which it is said he has since
written to her Majesty, he mentions two points
on which he founds his grievances : the one
being that her Majesty does not allow him
the same power, or take the same trouble to
advance him and have him honoured in the
country as she did at the beginning; the
other, that he is followed by no one, and that
all the nobles have forsaken his company.
To those points her Majesty replied that he
must not, if such be the case, lay the blame
upon her, but on himself, for at the beginning
she did him so much honour, that she had
since suffered for it, and that the high rank to
which she had raised him served as an excuse
to them who have so grievously offended her
Majesty; that she felt so much respect for
him, that, although those who murdered one
of her faithful servants entered her room while
he was there to bid her good night, having
come behind him and having named him the
chief of their enterprise, yet she never would
accuse him, but always excused him, and is
pleased to pretend she beUeves nothing. Be-
sides, it is his fault alone that he is not well
followed : she offered him, as she always does,
those in her service. As for the nobles, they
frequent the Court and make themselves sub-
jects according as their affairs require or as
they are agreeably welcomed ; but he has
taken so little trouble to win them over and
gain their affections, even having forbidden
his chamber to lords whom her Majesty, from
the beginning, had placed near him, that if the
nobles forsake him, his behaviour towards
them is the cause. If he wishes to be followed,
he must beforehand make himself be loved;
and to attain that end, he must be amiable,
otherwise it will be too difficult for the Queen
to see to it, especially to make them consent
that he should have the management of affairs
in his hands. To which they never consented,
and (her Majesty) does not find them by any
means disposed to consent to it hereafter."
U
154 DISSERTATION II.
MM. Mignet and Dargaud, the former the prince, and the latter
the most worthless of historians, try to crush Mary Stuart, especially
on the occasion of the baptism of James VI.
" L'humiliation ne pouvait etre plus grande. " The humiliation could not be greater. The
Le roi ^tait mdprisd au milieu de la cour ; le King was despised in the midst of the Court ;
pfere n'avait pas de place au bapteme de son the father had no place at the baptism of his
ii\.%"— Mignet. son."
On the contrary, if the humiliation was great for any one, it was for
the Queen to see her worthless husband behave in a manner so unbe-
coming on such an occasion.
" II se fait de grands apprest pour le dit " Great preparations are being made for
baptesmes," writes du Croc. ..." Les seigneurs the said baptism. . . . The lords are so
sont si bien reconcilliez ensemble avecques la thoroughly reconciled with the Queen, by her
Royne, par sa sage conduicte que aujourd'huy wise conduct, that I now hear not a single
je ne vois una seule division." — Teulet, II., 290. complaint."
Mary, who was anxious that the ceremony should be attended with
great splendour, had written to the lords whom she could not see : —
" The baptisme of our dearest sone, the Prince, wilbe shortlie and that in the Streueling,
quhairvnto the Ambassatours of the gretast Princes in Christandom will resort, and than it is
maist neidfouU that we be honorabillie accumpanyt, ye will here of the tyme and dyett ; quhilk
we pray you effectuuslie addres you to keip, apparellit in sic honest maner as the tyme and
occasioun cravis, according to the estait of your hous ; fifor ye will not agane in many yeiris have
the like thyng in hand, and heirintill ye will do ws maist thankfuU seruice and plesour." — Gray's
Papers, app. X.
That letter, showing the care that Mary took to arrange the cere-
mony, makes Darnley's proceeding the more odious.
" Si la Reine et les dits Seigneurs," adds the " If the Queen and the said lords are on good
French ambassador, " sont bien ensemble, le terms, the King, her husband, is on very bad
Roy son mary est bien aussi mal d'un coste et terms with her and them. It cannot be other-
d'aultre. II n'en peust estre autrement de la wise from the manner in which he behaves,
fasson qu'il se gouverne, car il veult estre tout for he wishes to be everything and to command
et commander partout ; k la fin, il se mest en everywhere ; in short, he is taking the best
ung chemin pour n'estre rien. Je ne vois un means to fail. I do not see a single lord look
seul seigneur qui le regarde que tant que la at him except vchen the Queen wishes it."
Royne veult." — Teulet, II. , 290.
Long before the baptism, he threatened to keep away on account of
that rivalry, and also because the Queen of England had ordered her
ambassador not to salute him as King. {Teulet, ibidem; Wright, I.,
607.) He kept his word, and du Croc, who saw the Queen the day
after the ceremony, found her plunged in the most bitter grief He
said of Darnley on the subject : — ■
" His bad deportment is incurable, nor can there be ever any good expected from him, for
several reasons, which I might tell you, was I present with you. I can't pretend to foretell how
all may turn ; but I will say that matters can't subsist long as they are, without being accom-
DISSERTATION 11. 15S
panied with sundry bad consequences. The Queen behaved herself admirably well all the time
of the baptism ; and shewed so much earnestness to entertain all the goodly company in the
best manner, that this made her forget in a good measure her former ailments. But I am of the
mind, however, that she will give us trouble as yet, nor can I be brought to think otherwise, so
long as she continues to be so pensive and melancholy." — Bishop Keith, pref., vii.
The Spanish papers corroborate what the French documents affirm
about the constant attachment of Mary to Darnley, an attachment which
still lasted at the period we have now reached : —
"El Rey de Escocia ha ya veinte dias que " The King of Scotland has been for twenty
esta con la Reyna, y comen juntos ; y, aunque days with the Queen, and they eat together ;
parece que no perderd tan presto del todo el and although it seems as if the Queen would
desgusto del Rey per las cosas parsadas, toda- not soon lose the feeling of disgust which she
via piensa que el tiempo, yestar juntos, y el has for the King on account of past events,
Rey determinado di complacerle hara mucho people are inclined to believe that keeping his
en la buena reconciliacion.'' Silva to Philip company, and his resolution to please her, will
II., i8th Dec. 1566. — Papiers de SimanCas. do much towards a reconciliation."
"El ambaxador que tieneaqui lade Escocia, "The ambassador of Scotland in France -
dize que es verdad que aquel Rey muerto havia says it is true that the late King had used
andado en platicas danadas contra Dios y su blameworthy expressions against God and his
muger pero que se estavan conformes, y que wife, but that they were united, and that he
se veya claro en la demostracion de amor que was seen to be so given up to the love which
se hazian, tanto que el pueblo mostrava mucha they ostensibly bore to each other, that the
allegria deUo.'' Alava to Philip II., 6th March people showed a great joy thereat."
1567. — Papiers de Simancas.
That love of Mary for Darnley never belied itself for a moment,
and seemed even to grow as time advanced. After the baptism, the
King took ill. The partisans of Moray and the English clique accused
the Queen of having poisoned him, and public opinion was settled on
that point : —
"At which time K. Henrey wes layand seike in Glasgow of the small poks, bot some sayed
he had gotten poysone." — Birrel's Diarey, 6.
Although Glasgow was then a centre of contagion (Drury to Cecil,
Chalmers, III., 109), the Queen, not wishing to go herself to that town,
lest she should give the disease to her child, sent her physician at once
to Darnley : —
" The Queen had sent her own physician to attend upon him/' Bedford to Cecil. —
Chalmers, III., 109.
She sent him during his illness :—
"frequenter et amabilissime scriptas lit- "she sent him many and very lovingly -
teras." — Buchanan, Hist., xviii. written letters.''
He had scarcely recovered when Mary was told that he was again
thinking of dethroning her. The Earl of Moray, informed of the
project, advised the Queen to have the patient put under arrest ; but
iS6 DISSERTATION II.
she would not. {Miss Strickland, III., 91.) She wrote to the Arch-
bishop of Glasgow, her ambassador in France : —
" For the King our husband, God knawis alwayis our part towartis him, and his behaviour
and thankfulnes to us is semblablement well knawin to God and the world, specialie our awin
indifferent subjectis seis it, and in their hartis, we doubt not, condemnis the samyne. Alwayis
we persave him occupeit and bissy aneuch to haif inquisitioun of our doyngis, quhilkis, God will-
ing, sail ay be sic as nane sail haif occasioun to be offendit with thame, or to repot t of us any
wayis bot honorably ; howsoever he, his father and thair fautoris speik, quhilkis we knaw
•want na gude to mak us haif ado, gif thair Power wer equivalent to thair myndis. Bot God
moderatis thair forces well aneuch, and takis the moyen of executioun of thair pretensis fra
thame : for, as we believe, thay sail find nane, or verray few approveris of thair counsalis and
devysis imaginit to our displesor or mislyking." — Bishop Keith, pref., viii.
When he was able to bear the journey, Mary brought him back to
Edinburgh with a care and tenderness quite maternal. As there were
in the country no carriages suitable for removing the patient, she put at
his disposal her own " charriott," the only one in Scotland. It seemed
'so wonderful, that Birrel, usually so brief, has mentioned it in his
journal, fo. 6.
In short, not long before his death, and on the bed to which he was
confined, the young King wrote to the Earl of Lennox, his father, an
affectionate letter in praise of the Queen.
"Hsc scribenti," says Buchanan, "derepente "As he was writing that, the Queen came in
Regina intervenit, ac literis perlectis crebro suddenly, and having read the letter, she em-
eum amplexa ac deosculata sibi supra modum braced him several times, and showed him by
gratam esse ostendit, quod jam perspicue her kisses that she was glad to see, beyond
intelligeret, nuUam in ejus animo nubeculam doubt, that he had not conceived any suspicion
suspitionis subsedisse." — Bttchanan, Histor., in his mind."
xviii.
The same author tells us that
"Regina quotidie regem invisebat." — Id. Ibid. " The Queen every day visited the King."
Although the Scottish historian attributes those frequent visits to
insincerity, yet the fact remains, and, strengthened by other documents
which never hint at hypocrisy, is favourable to the Queen.
From those texts I conclude that Mary Stuart always loved Darnley,
that she never forsook him, even when her feelings were outraged by
him, and that, despite all repugnance, she ever fulfilled her duties
as a wife.
II.— HE WAS MURDERED BY HER ORDERS, AND SHE DID NOT SHOW THE SLIGHTEST GRIEF.
Before cutting into the quick of the question, I intend to make some
remarks on the disposition of Mary Stuart, and give some particulars
of the accusations against her.
DISSERTATION II. 157
First presumption in favour of Mary Stuart.
Sir Thomas Craig, who well knew Mary Stuart, as he was one of
her Privy Councillors, said of her :
" I have often heard the most Serene Princess Mary, Queen of Scotland, discourse so
appositely and rationally, in all affairs which were brought before the Privy Council, that she
was admir'd by all ; and when most of the Counsellors were silent, being astonished, they
straight declared themselves to be of her opinion ; she rebuked them sharply, and exhorted them
to speak freely, as becomes unprejudiced Counsellors, against her opinion, that the best reasons
only might over-rule their determinations ; and truly her reasonings were so strong and clear,
that she could turn their hearts to-what side she pleas'd. She had not studied law ; and yet,
by the natural light of her judgement, when she reasoned of matters of Equity and justice, she
oft times had the advantage of the ablest lawyers. Her other discourses and actions were suit-
able to her great judgement : no word ever dropped from her mouth that was not exactly weighed
and pondered. As for her liberality and other virtues, they were well known." Craig's Answer.
— M^Kenzie, III., 353.
Herrera calls her
" muger di buena y santa intencion, bien " a woman of good and holy aim, bent on
nclinada, y que de su natural condicion era doing good, but of a nature easy and credu-
facil y credula." 51. lous."
She was, says Melville, 146 :
" of hir awen nature, mair inclynit to- mercy then rigour,"
and Brantome driving out of the field those who would have it that
Mary had had a hand in the murder of her husband, wrote : —
" ce sont abus et menteries, car jamais cette " those are mistakes and falsehoods, for that
Reine ne fut cruelle ; elle estoit du tout bonne Queen was never cruel ; she was throughout
et trfes douce. Jamais en France elle ne fit good and very gentle. She never did any
cruaut6, mesme elle n'a pris plaisir ny eu le cruelty in France ;- far from feeling delighted,
cceur de voir deffaire les pauures criminels par she had not the heart to see poor criminals
justice, comme beaucoup de grandes que j'ay run down by justice, as many great ladies
connu, et alors qu'elle estoit en sa galfere, ne whom I have known, and when she was on her
voulut jamais permettre que Ton battit le moins galley, she never would allow a single convict
du monde un seul forgat, et en pria M. le to be in the least beaten. To that effect, she
Grand Prieur son oncle, et le commanda sent a request to the Grand Prior, her uncle,
expressement au Comitd, ayant une com- and express orders to the committee, having
passion extreme de leur misfere, et le coeur lui extreme compassion for their misery, and being
en faisoit mal. Pour fin, jamais cruaute ne grieved at heart for them. In short, cruelty
logea au coeur d'une si grande et douce beautd, never dwelt in the heart of so great and gentle
mais ce sont este des imposteurs qui I'ont dit a beauty ; but those who have said or written
et escrit, entr'autres M. Buccanan." — Bran- it are impostors, and among them Mr
t6me, Discours sur Marie Stuart. Buchanan."
Archbishop Spottiswoode calls her
" a Princess of many rare virtues, but crossed with all the crosses of fortune, which never any
did bear with greater courage and magnanimity to the last." — II., 361.
And Camden :
"foeminainreligionesuaconstantissima,eximii "a woman very constant in her faith, of re-
in Deum pietate, invicta animi mignitudine, markable piety towards God, of unconquerable
prudentia supra sexum, formdque venustis- nobleness of mind, of a prudence above her
sima." — ^494. sex, and of ravishing beauty."
iS8 DISSERTATION II.
Lethington, in a letter to Cecil, 14th of November 1562, calls her
" a Princess so gentle and benign, and whose behaviour hath been always such towards all her
subjects, and every one in particular, that wonder it is that any could be found so ungracious as
once to think evil against her." — Bishop Keith, 232.
An act of the Secret Council, signed by the principal nobles,
especially by Moray and Morton (4th December 1567), represents her
as gifted with all virtues :
"many gude and excellent gifts and virtues quharewith God sometimes indowit hir. — Goodall,
II., 63.
Leicester writing to Throckmorton, says that he had never heard
Moray speak ill of Mary Stuart. Leicester to Throckmorton, 7th July
1567. {MS. State Paper Office)
Before leaving for the continent, the same Moray made his will (2d
April 1567), and appointed Mary " overishwoman," and brave
Kirkaldy, testamentary executor, though after Darnley's murder.
{Registrwn honor, de Morton, L, 17.)
Mary's acts, examined coolly and calmly, do not belie the judgment
passed upon her by her cotemporaries and the most thoughtful
historians. Her correspondence gives one even a still higher opinion of
her ; she is found everywhere compassionate to a fault.
And yet what a heaping-up of slander on her head! Her face,
however, still stands out after ages, beamingly radiant, but from the
cruelties of her slanderers, furrowed with wrinkles.
Second presiimption in favour of Mary Stuart.
She has been accused in turns of allowing Riccio to share her bed,
of despising, forsaking and murdering her husband, of trying to poison
her son, and of attempting to get Elizabeth assassinated ; a Prussian,
indeed, with documents in hand, accused her, thirty years ago, of incest
with her bastard brother, Moray. {Von Ratimer, 93.) Such is the
woman whose life I have written. I ask the reader who has gone
through the History of Mary Stuart, studied her correspondence and
analysed her acts, if it is possible that so august a woman could have
committed so many crimes ? From that moral impossibility I draw my
second presumption, and I say : enemies have delighted in perverting
the facts and in inventing calurnnies to blacken their victim ; there is no
abomination which has not been attributed to her.
Third presumption in favour of Mary.
Had she an interest in killing her husband that she might marry
Bothwell ? Mary's commissioners at York, said :
DISSERTATION 11. 159
" Son mary n'estoit-il pas plus ieune, plus " Was not her husband younger, handsomer,
beau et plus agreable que Bodwel ? Si elle and more agreeable than Bothwell ? Had she
eust este si lubrique et adonn^e k ses plaisirs been so wanton and so given to her pleasures
que ses ennemis disent, la vie de son mary lui as her enemies say, the life of her husband
eust plus serui pour I'effect de ses d^sirs que would have been more useful to her for the
non pas sa mort. Car outre la iouissance de satisfaction of her desires, than his death. For
sa personne, belle au possible, elle eust eu la besides the enjoyment of his person, handsome
frdquentation de Bodwel k souhait, lequel il beyond compare, she might, as often as she
luy eust mieux vallu auoir pour amy que pour pleased, meet Bothwell, and to have him as a
mary et qui se fust estim^ trop heureux de friend and not as a husband, would have been
seruir une telle Dame ; et quand elle I'eust better for her, as he was one who would have
ainsi voulu, personne ne Ten eust peu deemed himself too happy to serve such a
empescher, ayant I'entendement assez bon pour lady ; and had she willed it so, no one could
euiter le soupgon et prendre ses esbats sans have hindered it, for she was clever enough to
Fcandale." — Blackwood, 616. avoid suspicion and have her amorous enjoy-
ments without scandal."
That reasoning is correct, and if Mary Stuart's enemies had given
it a little more attention, they would not have said that she assassinated
Darnley, to prostitute herself to Bothwell.
Supposing Mary did wish to get rid of Darnley, she might have
prosecuted him as Riccio's murderer {yebb, I., 461), and have obtained
a divorce from him, divorce being, at that period, very common among
English Princes {Teulet, II., 299). In short, let us carry things to
excess, and, against all likelihood, admit that Mary wished to murder
Darnley, surely the last plan to choose would have been to blow up a
whole house. A dagger or poison would have been much quicker, and
have had no noisy report. We learn from an English source, from
Cecil himself, that there were thirty persons implicated in that
unfortunate affair (Cecil to Morris, Cabala, 135). Is it at all likely that
Mary should have mentioned her plan to so many persons? That said,
I enter upon the facts.
On the 3d of June, 1565, Randolph writes to Cecil :
" People have small joy in this new master, and find nothing but that God must either send
him a short end, or them a miserable life. The dangers to those he now hateth are great, and
either he must be taken away or they find some support, that what he intendeth to others may
fall upon himself." — Bishop Keith, 283.
and he asked
" what support may be expected if aught should be attempted, seeing the most part are per-
suaded that for this end, he (Darnley) was sent into this country." — Miss Strickland, II., 132.
On the 3d of July, he said :
" Hys (Darnley's) behaviour is suche that he is runne in open contempte of all men, even
of those that were hys cheif freinds : whate shall become of hym, I knowe not, but yt is greatlie
to be feared, that he cane have no longe lyfe amongst thys people." — Bishop Keith, 287.
On the next day, the 4th, he pointed out the growth of the conspiracy
i6o DISSERTATION II.
against Darnley, on account of his insolence, and against the Queen
who supported him.
" Worde was broughte her (Q. Mary) that the Earl of Argile and Earle of Murraye had
assembled maynie of their frends and servantes and intended to tayke her and the Lord Darnlye
rydinge betwene that towne and the Lord Liveston's howse, and to have caried the Queen's grace
to St Andrews, and the Lord Darnlye to Castell-Camell." — Bishop Keith, 291.
Their scheme was to get rid of Darnley, and lock up the Queen at
Lochleven :
" They covenanted to slay him and his father, and divers other noblemen, then about the
Queen, and to make the Queen herself prisoner in iochleven, for all the days of her life, and
the Earl of Murray to have usurped the government." — Goodall, L, 66 ; Blackwood, 540.
On the 4th of September, the same Randolph again writes to Cecil :
" Several of the Lords are appointed to assassinate Darnley." — Bishop Keith, app., 164.
At the end of the same month, Castelnau writes from Scotland as
follows :
" A ce que je puys veoir, les choses ne sont " From what I can see, matters are not
sur le poinct de finir avec doulcoeur ny going to end with gentleness or conciliation,
appoinctement, car la Royne n'en veult poinct for the Queen wishes none with her subjects,
avec ses subjectz, pour ne pouvoir cy-apr^s seeing that she could no longer, after that,
regner ne vivre en repos avec le Roy son mary, reign or live at peace with the King, her hus-
ayant comme diet Sa Majeste infiniz advertis- band, having, as Her Majesty says, inumerable
semens qu'ilz les veuUent tuer tous deux, et warnings that they (the nobles) wish to kill
tendent par tous moyens k se faire roys eulx- them both, and strive, by all means, to become
mesmes, chose qui luy est insuportable." — Kings themselves, a thing she cannot bear."
Teulet, II., 246, 251.
The project was not abandoned because it failed at Kirk-of-Beith.
On the 9th of February 1566, Lethington wrote to Cecil that
" there was no certain way unless they chopped at the root" — Af'Neel-Caird, 48.
The nobles thought the murder of Riccio a clever stroke ; they
wished thereby to make the King odious to the Queen and ruin them,
the one by means of the other. The summer of 1566 is spent in that
hateful over-excitement. In the month of October, Moray, Huntly,
Argyll and Bothwell made advances to one another and drew up a
bond " in signe," as they say, " of our reconciliation." — Anderson, IV.,
ii., 195 ; Goodall, II., 322.
One naturally wonders what could bring together those men so bitterly
opposed to one another, as Moray was the sworn enemy of Huntly, whose
family he had ruined, and of Bothwell whose exile he had caused, and who
owed him a bitter grudge for it. As for Argyll, the thing is less surpris-
ing, as he, for a long time past, had been in the pay of England (Tytler,
III., 65). One of the accomplices, Archibald Douglas, explains the
DISSERTATION II. i6i
matter, saying it was a step towards the meeting at " Quhittingaime ;"
now, everybody knows that is where Darnley's death was settled.
Knox was accused of having favoured the conspiracy. — Goodall, I., 208-
211. The murder is now fixed, and the assassins await only the oppor-
tunity. They join together by a bond which
"conteinit thir words, in effect 'that, forsamikle, it was thought expedient and maist profitable
for the commonwealth, be the haill nobilitie, and lords underscryvand, that sic ane young fool, and
proud tirane, sould not reigne nor beare rule over them ; and that for divers'causes, and theirfoir,
that the haill had concludit that he sould be cut off, be ane way or uther, and whoso ever sould
tak the deid in hand, or do it, they sould defend and fortifie as tliemselves.'" — Arnot's App., 386.
At first they spoke of killing Darnley in the field ; but the murderers
gave up the idea lest they should be seen. {Anderson, II., 184.) They
chose another place for the crime, and the abode of Kirk-of- Field, so
hated since, was named to the Queen by Moray himself.
" Mourray remonstre k la Royne que besoin " Moray points out to the Queen that a
luy estoit de changer d'air, et que puis n'agueres change of air is required, and that some time
le Seigneur de Borthuik s'estoit fort bien trouud ago the Lord of Borthwick felt the better of
de s'estre logd chez le Preuost de Kirk of field having taken up his abode with the Provost of
'k Edimbourg, estant le lieu haut, plaisant et en Kirk-of-Field in Edinburgh, it being a lofty
bel air, enuironnd de iardins et dloign^ du bruit place, cheerful and having good air, surrounded
du meme peuple : et que au contraire le Palais by gardens, and removed from the noise of the
Royal estoit situd en lieu bas, subiect au bruit, people ; whereas the Royal Palace was situated
k cause de la suitte de la cour." — Blackwood, in a low place, subject to noise, on account of
562. the train and bustle of the Court."
During that time, Mary refuses the divoixe proposed to her by the
nobles, and becomes quite reconciled with Darnley. She takes him to
Kirk-of-Field, where she lavishes upon him marks of the fondest love.
To be nearer him she had an opening made between their two rooms.
{Anderson, IV., ii., 166.)
"The King," says a chronicle of the time, ''remained and lay in the Kirk-of-field, and divers
tymes the Queen came to sie how he did, he being very sick." — Pitcairn, I., 479.
The report of the conspiracy soon reached the Court of France, and
the Archbishop of Glasgow wrote to the Queen that it was being
hatched : —
" Quelque grande conspiration contre sa vie, " Some great conspiracy against her life,
(celle) de son fils ou celle de son mary ou de that of her son, or of her husband, or of all
tous trois, et dont on lui auoit donnd certain et three, regarding which he had been given sure
asseurd aduis k Marseille, sans toutefois luy and safe information at Marseilles, though it
pouuoir specifier les autheurs d'icelle, ny la per- had not been possible to specify to him its
Sonne de celuy contre qui elle estoit dressde." — authors, or the person of him against whom it
Blackwood, 564 ; Bishop Keith, viii. was got up."
When that letter reached Edinburgh, Darnley was no more ; and
the Queen could only regret that such precious information had
reached her so late.
VOL. II. X
i62 DISSERTATION II.
As the time of the disaster drew nigh, Moray left the Court, pre-
tending that his wife was ill, and that flight, with what happened at a
later period, gave good grounds for suspecting him.
" Hasc spurii ereptatio obtenta velo uxorii " That retreat of the bastard, hidden under
morbi, bonis praebuit materiem suspicandi pretence of an illness of his wife, afforded hon-
male de iWo/'—yeii, I., 403 ; Merries, 83. est people grounds to suspect badly of him."
Before his departure from Edinburgh, he dropped an imprudent
word, which his enemies did not fail to cast into his teeth at a later
period. Several defenders of Moray deny it ; Lesley, Blackwood,
Caussin and Belleforest affirm it : they differ only in the terms.
According to Lesley, Moray said :
" This night ere morning the Lord Darnley shal lose his XiitP— Lesley's Defence, 75.
Blackwood (565) reproduces the sentence in all its brutality ; Caussin
{J ebb, L, 60) softens it, but upon the whole the sense is the same ; and
those authors agree in asserting that Lord Herries, in presence of
several persons, reproached Moray with uttering it.
" Que si on veut nier cecy," writes Belle- " That if one wishes to deny this, we have
forest, " nous auons des preuves sufifisans pour proofs enough to confirm it ; even Baron
le verifier ; mesme le Baron Harris, encore Herries, who is still alive, told him publicly,
•vivant, le reprocha publiquement, en sa face to his face and at table, that he was one of the
et en pleine table, qu'il estoit des conspirants conspirators and consenting parties to the said
et consentans au dit meurtre." — yebb, I., 471. murder."
Mackenzie (IIL, 282) calls attention to the fact that Lesley's work
was published eleven years before the death of Buchanan, and that
neither the latter nor any one of his party ever refuted it. That reflec-
tion carries with it great weight. Buchanan says nothing about that
statement, but he relates a marvellous story which, being confirmatory,
leads one to believe it.
"Jacobus Londinus homo Fifanus, honesto "James Lundie, an inhabitant of Fifeshire,
loco natus, cum febri diu laborasset, pridie a man of good family, and suffering for a
quam Rex occideretur, circa meridiem, in lecto long time from fever, on the day before the
se pauUum erexit, ac velut attonitus, magna King's murder, at about mid-day, rose up a
voce obtestatus est prssentes ; Ut Regi opem little on his bed and, as if seized with fright,
ferrent : Jam enim parricidas eum invadere. entreated in a loud voice those who were
Deinde, paullo post cum flebile questu excla- present to help the King, for parricides were
mavit ; Frustra opem feretis ; jam trucidatus rushing on him. Then, shortly after, he cried
est : nee ipse diu post eam vocem supervixit." — in a plaintive voice : ' In vain will you
Btichan., Hist ., :xNn\. bear him help; he is already massacred!'
while he himself did not live long after utter-
ing those words."
That story, skilful as it is, cannot deceive the reader : by that
account, Buchanan clearly wished to explain the rumours current in
Fifeshire on Moray's arrival. That explanation is worthless, because
DISSERTATION II. 163
the imagined fable is unlikely, and because of the attitude of Moray, who,
instead of nursing his wife, was making preparations to wage a regular
war. [Chalmers, III., 238.) That warwas foreseen; for before Darnley's
murder, Moray had written to Elizabeth, asking her for bows, arrows,
and quivers. On the third day after the murder, Elizabeth signed an
order to have them sent. {Chalmers, III., 238, note.) What is to
be concluded from that ? First, that Moray foresaw the murder ;
secondly, that the Queen had no hand in it. Moray's preparations
cannot be otherwise explained.
Let us sum up the situation on the 9th of February : a conspiracy
hatched for a long time past by Moray and his partisans ; shortly
before the murder they band themselves together by a bond, and pre-
pare for resistance : on the Queen's side, attentions to Darnley, a
refusal to divorce herself, and frequent and loving visits on the very
evening of the murder. (See the text.)
Among Darnley's murderers are two of Riccio's assassins whom
Mary refused to pardon, even at the baptism of her son : Andrew Ker
of Faudonside, who had threatened her with his pistol, and George
Douglas, who had stabbed Riccio under her very eyes. (Bedford to
Cecil, 30th December 1566. — State Paper OJfice.)
After the murder, Moray and Morton are suspected :
" Scelere perpetrate, nuncii statim in An- " The crime having been committed, mes-
gliamdimissi qui divulgarent, Regem Scotorum sengers were at once sent to England, to make
a suis crudeliter fuisse trucidatum, opera max- known that the King of Scotland had been
ime et consilio Comitum Moravis et Mortonii." cruelly massacred by his people, the aid and
Buchanan, xviii. counsel of the Earls of Moray and Morton
helping greatly thereto.''
" Rumor illicb latS per Britaflniam sparsus, " The rumour, spread at once throughout
crimen in Mortonium Morauium et confceder- Great Britain, laid the crime at the door of
atos contulit, illi imbelli sexui insultantes, in Morton, Moray and the confederates, who, in-
Reginam transtulerunt."--=Ca»zflfeK, i lo. suiting the weaker sex, threw it on the Queen."
Cecil was not to be foiled ; on the 5th of March he informed Norris,
in a somewhat ironical tone, that
" There do adhere together with the Earl of Lenox, the Earles of Argile, Morton, Athell,
Murrey, CatneSs and Glencarne, who mean to be at Edenburgh very shortly, as they pretend, to
search out the malefactors."— Ca^a/a, 137.
The best informed people, far from accusing Mary, dreaded lest the
fatal conspiracy, which had already overthrown Riccio and Darnley,
might also reach her.
" It ys to be fearyd that thys tragedy woll end yn the Quenes person, after thys coronation
of James VI.), as yt dyd begin yn the person of David the Italian and the Quenes husbafid."
Throckmorton to Cecil, 26th July iS^J.^State Paper Office,
1 64 DISSERTATION II.
Three weeks after the murder, when the placards were the common
talk of Edinburgh, the English ambassador Killigrew dines with Moray,
where he meets Huntly, Argyll, Both well and Lethington, the heads
of the conspiracy. (Killigrew to Cecil. Chalmers, I., 324.)
Bo much for the murderers. Let us now look into Mary's conduct.
Her enemies reproach her with —
First, having left the body of her htisband lying on the ground, in
sight of the passers-by.
Secondly, having shown no sadness.
Thirdly, having had the body btiried by the rabble.
Fourthly, having neglected an inquest.
Fifthly, having gone to divert herself with Bothwell at Seton.
First, She left the body of her husband lying on the ground, in sight
of the passers-by.
" Regis cadaver, cum diu spectaculo fuisset "As the body of the King had been long
continuusque vulgi concursus eo fieret," etc. — left to the gaze, and as the people thronged
Buchanan, xviii. around it."
" The kingis persoun wes left liand in the zaird quhair it wes apprehendit the space of thre
houris, na man anes preasing to carey the same away, quhil the Irascall people transportit it to
a vile hous neir that rowme quhair befoir he was ludgit quhair he remanit xlviij. houris as a
gazing stok without ony cair takin of him saulffing certane . . .* purposelie sat to keip the
entre That his corps suld not be sene be the multitude, fearing that they movit be the sicht suld
haue bene induced suddanelie to mak vproare." — Book of Articles, Hosack, app. 538.
That lying assertion is refuted by cotemporary testimony. Mel-
ville says :
" When I past ther (Kirk-of- Field) to haue sean him, he was layed within a chamber and
keped be ane Sandie Durem ; bot I could not get the sicht of him." — Melvillis Memoirs, 174.
What Birrel says is still stronger :
" The 10 day of this moneth, the embassadors of France and Savoy came to the house
quher the K. wes lyand and requyred a sight of him, bot wes refusit thereof by the shouldiours."
— 7-
Secondly, She showed no sadness.
Melville says :
" 1 cam to the chamber dur (Mary's chamber) the nyxt mornyng- efter the mourther. The
Erie Bodowell said that hir Maiestie was sorrowfuU and quyet." — MelvilUs Memoirs, 174.
" La chose estant rapportde k ceste pauvre " This poor princess having been told of the
princesse," writes an eye-witness, "chun peult thing, one may readily imagine the affliction
penser en quelle peine et agonie ou elle s'est and agony which she felt, especially as the sad
trouvde, mesmes que telle malaventure est ad- event happened when her Majesty and the
venue au temps que Sa Ma'e et le roy estoient King were on the best terms that could be
au meilleur mesnaige que Ton pouvoit desirer, wished for ; so that the said S'^ de Clernault
* Margin of MS. frayed. One word gone.
DISSERTATION II,
I6S
left her as grieved as can be, one of the most
unfortunate Queens in this world."
de sorte que le diet S";^ de Clernault la laissee
affligee autant que le peult estre une des plus
mal fortunees roynes de ce monde." Declara-
tion de Clernault. — Chalmers, II., 445.
A month after, 8th of March, KilHgrew wrote to Cecil : —
" I found the Queen's Majesty in a dark chamber so as I could not see her face ; but by her
word, she seemed very doleful." — Chalmers, I., 324.
" His wife lamented, bewailed and regretted
him as a faithful wife ought to mourn her hus-
band, and for a long time (with all due defer-
ence to slanderers) used candles alone for light,
as she shut out the light of the sun for some
time."
" Son espousde le ploura, plaignit et regretta
ainsi que la femme loyale doibt user k I'endroit
de sa partie, et fut un longtemps (sauf la grace
des calomniateurs) se tenant tellement en-
fermde, que les seules chandelles luy seruoient
pour lumi^re, sans user de la clarte du soleil
par quelque espace de temps." — Belleforest,
Jebb, I., 531.
The defenders of Mary, carrying the apostrophe even to bad taste,
said to Moray's partisans at the time of the York conferences : —
"Vous vous mocquiez d'elle quand elle
estoit renferm^e dans vne chambre auec des
flambeaux, habilled de noir (car c'est chose
contraire k vostre religion) et maintenant, vous
I'accusez de ne I'auoir estd assez long-temps, et
de la prenez argument qu'elle a tud son mary.
Vos femmes font elles vn tel dueil aprfes le
decez de leurs maris qu'elle a fait du sien ?
Vos mferes I'ont-elles fait de vos peres ? Vous
sgauez bien que non. Et quand elle n'auroit
rien fait dutout, ce ne seroit pas chose qui
deust estre k blasmer en Escosse, oii ceste
ceremonie este toute nouuelle. Vous ne
sgauriez citer une Royne d'Escosse, qui en aye
vs6 autrement qu'k sa discretion et volontd.
II ne faut pas mesurer ceste Royne au pied
des autres, qui n'estoient plus rien aprfes la
mort de leurs maris, que doiiarieres. Ceste-cy
ne tenoit rien de son mary, qui au contaaire
n'auoit rien, sinon ce qu'il tenoit d'elle. Pour
conclusion de cet article, si en son ame elle se
fust iug& coupable de la mort de son mary,
elle auoit I'entendement assez bon pour de-
guiser sa faute par des funerailles exquises et
magnifiques, auec cris et autres chimagrdes
dont on se sert ordinairement, pour se garetir
des soupgons de telles actions. Ceste obiec-
tion ne meritoit point de responce, tant elle est
friuole." — Blackwood, 610.
" You laughed at her when she was shut up
in a room with torches, and clad in mourning
(for it is a thing contrary to your religion) and
now you accuse her of not having been so long
enough, and thence draw the inference that
she tilled her husband. Do your women
grieve for their husbands after their death as
much as she has done for hers ? Have your
mothers done so for your fathers ? You well
know they have not. And though she had not
wept at all, it would not be blameworthy in
Scotland, where the ceremony is quite new.
You could not mention a Queen of Scotland
who has acted under such circumstances^
otherwise than at her own discretion and
will. You must not measure this Queen by
the standard of others, who, after the death of
their husbands, were only dowagers. This
one derived nothing from her husband, who,
on the contrary, had nothing, save what he
held from her. To conclude this article, if in
her soul she had judged herself guilty of the
death of her husband, she was clever enough
to disguise her fault by exquisite and magnifi-
cent obsequies, and with lamentations and
shows of grief usual on such occasions, to shield
one's self from being suspected of such actions.
That objection does not deserve an answer, so
frivolous is it."
Thirdly, She had him buried by the rabble.
" But the latter (the Queen) has him buried
during the night by the rabble, without any
funeral honour, 3.nd (what increased the
"Sed ilia, per bajulos de nocte, sine uUo
funeris honore, sepeliendum curat, et (quod
indignitatem vehementius auxit) prope Davidis
1 66 DISSERTATION II.
Rizii sepulchrum,acsi hominis foedissimimani- indignation the more) beside the grave of
bus mariti morte parentaret." — Buchanan, David Riccio, as if she were by the death of
xviii. her husband, making an offering to the Manes
of the vilest of men."
" She causit the same (body) be brocht fra the kirlc-of-field to the said chapell of halyrude-
hous be certane soldiours pynouris, and utheris vile personis, vpoun an auld blok of forme of
tre. And eftir that the corps had lyne certane dayis in the chapell, quhair alswa she beheld it,
The same corps without ony ordour, wes cast in the erth on the nycht withcJut any ceremony
or cumpany of honest men."— Book of Articles, Hosack, 539,
Nothing is wanting to make the picture hideous, but fortunately for
Mary, all those particulars are false. She, on the contrary, took the
greatest care of her husband's body, had it ernbalmed, kept it lying in
state for several days, and with the fervour of religion, paid it the last
sad honours. On the 12th of February 1567, the Earl of Huntly wrote
to Robert Richardson, treasurer, to pay £Ap for the embalming of the
King :—
" My lord thesaurar,— Forsamekle as the Quenis Majestie and Counsell has direckitt ane
pottinger and schirurgens to caus perfume the Kingis body, and in respect that ther is syndri-
thingis requirit to the samyn quhilkis they had nocht, heirfore, the Quenis Majestie hes ordanit
me to advertis you that ye caus delyver fourte pundis for performance of sik necessars, as
appertenis thairtill, quhilkis salbe allouit to you, and delyver the same to the pottinger, and take
his writing thairon, and for my awin part, I void pray you efifectusly that the said soume war
perfurnist with diligence and deliverit in all haist, in respect the same Rynis to the Quenis
Majesteis honour and the hale cuntrey, at the palyce at halirudhous, the xij of februar 1 566."
Your w. guid Freind,
HUNTLYE.
To that command is added the following note :—
"Je, Martin Picauet, appoi'e de la Royne " I, Martin Picauet, appo" of the Queen of
de Scosse, douairifere de France, confesse Scots, dowager of France, acknowledge having
avoir Receu de Mr Robert Richardson, received from Mr Robert Richardson, treasurer
tresorier des finances de la diste dame, la of the finances of the said lady, the sum of
soume de quatre vintz liures Tourn. pour la eighty pounds Tournois, for supplying the
foumiture des drogues pour I'embaumement de drugs for the embalming of the King, in the
Roy, de la quelle soume prometz en tenir which sum I promise to credit the said
compt au dist tresorier et a tous aultres. treasurer and all others. Witness my sign
Tesmointz, mon seing manuel cy mis le xije manual here affixed the 12th day of February,
jour de Februier mil cinq cent soixante six, one thousand five hundred and sixty six,
auant Pasques." — E. PicaUET. {Register before Easter."
House, Edinburgh^
"Les tesmoins sont en grand nombre et "There are many witnesses alive, who, as
iceiix en vie qui maintienent et maintiendront, they saw it carried into effect, assert and will
comme ils I'ont veu par effect que le Seigneur assert, that the Lord Darnley was, after death,
D'Arley fut, estant mort, embauffid et encird honourably embalmed and encire, and that his
honnorablement et que son corps fut portd au body was carried to the common and ancient
tombeau commun et ancien des Roys d'Escosse, burial place of the Kings of Scotland, and laid
et mis auprfes du feu Roy laques dernier beside the late King James, last deceased, and
d^c^dd et pfere de la Royne Marie aussi father of Queen Mary also and that the
et que le corps fut accompaignd auec pompe body was accompanied with pomp (according
DISSERTATION 11. 167
(suyuant les c^rdmonies de I'eglise) par le to the ceremonies of the church) by the major-
preuost d'hostel, et plusieurs autres Seigneurs domo and several other lords and gentlemen,
et gentilshommes qui luy feirent (par le com- who (in obedience to the Queen's commands)
mandemant de la Royne) ce dernier seruice. paid him that last honour. It is very true
Bien est vray que les ceremonies n'y furent that the ceremonies were not such as were
telles, que iadis on faisoit aux autres Princes formerly performed at the burial of Scottish
Escossois, i cause que les Seigneurs du Princes, because the Lords of Council being
Conseil ne se soucians autrement des funerailles indifferent to the obsequies (as Protestants and
(pour estre Protestants et Huguenots) n'en fluguenots) thought nothing about them, just
tindrent aucun compte, qu'ilz ont fait de leurs as they did with their own relatives, whom
parents, lesquels ils ont enterrez sans aucune they buried without any of the ceremonials or
ceremonie ou honneur de sepulture accous- honours usual among the ancients, and so
tumde entre les anciens, et tant reuer^e par much revered by the Christians, So, only the
les Chrestiens. Ains n'y eut que les seruiteurs Queen's servants did honour to the body of
de la Royne, qui feissent honneur au corps the deceased, because her rebellious subjects
du deffunct pource que ses rebelles mesme ne would not allow others to be present "
voulurent permettre qu'aultres y assistassent."
— Belleforest, Jebb, I., 529.
Lesley, in his " Defence of Q. Mary's Honour," says just the same
thing. — 23.
As regards the odious charge of having laid Darnley beside Riccio,
Buchanan is its only supporter. Yet, such an affront would have been
noticed. Balfour, though favourable to Moray, merely says : —
" his corpes the nixt day, without aney funerall solemnity, wer interit in the Abbey Churche of
Holyrudhousse." — Annates, I., 336.
Neither the latter author nor Marioreybanks, who mentions the
burials of Riccio and Darnley, hints that the two graves were next each
other ; they say, on the contrary, that they were not buried in the
same place [Balfour, I., 334, 336 ; Marioreybanks, 18, 19). Birrel, in
his " Diarey," says nothing of it either. The author of the " Diurnal,"
who laments the death of Darnley, far from alluding to that " quod
indignitatem vehementius auxit," from the pamphlet of Buchanan,
points out the contrary : —
" Vpoun the fourtene day of Februar foirsaid, the corpis of the said vmquhile Henrie King
of Scottis and spous to our Souerane ladie wes burijt in Holyrudhous, besyid King James the
fyft, in his sepulture, quietlie. — Diurnal, 106.
Nor was the burial performed in the mysterious manner which some
allege. Lord Traquair, Darnley's relative, the Justice-Clerk, Sir John
Bellenden, James Stuart of Ochiltree, Captain of the Guards and many
other gentlemen were present. [Lesley's Defence, 23 ; Miss Strickland,
IIL, I94-)
Fourthly, She neglected an inquest.
"The oversicht and neglecting of triall and Inquisitioun for his murther movit the commoun
people to affix placardis." — Book of Articles, Hosack, 539.
i68 DISSERTATION II.
That assertion is belied by the facts, for on the day after the murder,
nth of February, Barbara Martine, Meg Crokat, and John Petcarne
were examined,
" In presence of the erlis of hun(tly), Ergile, Cassillis, Cathnes,' Suthirland, Bishoppis Gal-
loway, Ross." — Register House, Edinburgh, Hopetoun MS.
On the same day, Mary Stuart and the members of the Privy
Council wrote as follows :
" We doubt not bot according to the diligence oure Counsal hes begun alreddie to use, the
certainty of all salbe usit schortly." Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow. — Bishop Keith
and Prince Labanoff.
"We are after the inquest and make no doubt soon to come to the knowledge of the persons
by whom it was perpetrated." — Laing's App.
On the second day after the murder,
" On the 1 2th of February, a Proclamation was emitted by the Privy-Council, promising
besides other things a Reward of £iooo to any person that should first reveal the Devisers,
Counsellors, or actual Committers of the King's murder ; as likewise a Pardon of the Crime,
altho' he were participant and culpable th.e,xsoi."^Bishop Keith, 368 .
It is certain then that Mary was entirely taken up in seeking for the
murderers when Lennox wrote to her to make an inquest. {Bishop
Keith, 370.) The placards posted at the corners of the streets named
sometimes one murderer, sometimes another. Lennox asked the
Queen to imprison all those mentioned in those anonymous sheets.
The request was outrageous. Yet, according to the English ambas-
sador, the Queen had him answered,
"that if he, or any, will stand to the accusation of any of them, it shall be done; but not by
vertue of the bill (placard), or his request." Killigrew to Cecil. — Chalmers, 1., 325.
Fifthly, She went, in company with Bothwell, to divert herself at
Seton.
" She postis to Setounis Hous with a verray few, and thay not all of the saddest company.
Thair Bothwell thoct it semit that for the greit Fauour he then had in Court, and for the Nobi-
litie of his Birth, and uther Respectis of Honour, he suld haue bene nixt efter the Quene maist
honourabilly ressauit, zit was ludgeit in ane chalmer hard be the Kitchin. Howbeit, the same
was ane Place not altogidder unfit to asswage thair sorrowis for it was directly under the Quenis
Chalmer : and gif ony suddane quhelme of Greif suld haue happinnit to cum ouer hir Hart, yair
was ane Stair, thocht sumthing narrow, zit wyde aneuch for Bothwell to get up to comfort hir."
— Detection, 29.
" Celebrabaturautem locus magna Nobilitatis "This place was frequented by a great
frequentia : et ipsa (Maria) quotidie in cam- crowd of the nobles ; and she (the Queen)
pum propinquum ad lusus consuetos, nee eos went every day into a neighbouring field, to
plane muliebres, prodibat." — Buchan., Hist., play at the games of the time, which were not
xviii. quite suitable for ladies."
Lesley, in his Defence, asserts that it was
" by the vehement Exhortations and Perswasions of her Counsaile, who were moued therto by
her physitians Informations, declaring to them the great and imminent Dangers of her Health
DISSERTATION II. 169
and Life, if she did not in al spede breake up and leaue that kind of close and solitarie Life, and
repaire to some good open and holsome Air." — Defence, 25.
Robert Melville gave to Cecil that reason alone for Mary's journey-
to Seton. (Robert Melville to Cecil, 26th February 1567.)
Evil-minded people did not fail to jeer. It was reported to Drury
that the Queen shot for dinners at Tranent ; the statement turned out
to be false, and the English Argus had to correct his notes, and say :
" he had been misinformed in regard to the Scottish Queen's proceedings, as she had never
stirred from Seton." — Miss Strickland, III., 205.
Another misfortune for the slanderers is that Bothwell, whom they
represent as the Lothario of the visit to Seton, quietly stayed at
Holyrood with his brother-in-law.
" Vpoun the sextene day of the said moneth of Februar, our Souerane ladie past fra Haly-
rudhous to Seytoun, and left the erlis of Huntlie and Bothwill in the palice of Halyrudhous, to
keip the prince vnto hir returning." — Diurnal of Occur., 106.
The author of Moray's Diary gravely compromised himself when
he said :
"21 February, thay past togydder to Seyton." — Anderson, II., 273.
It was neither on the 21st, nor together, that the journey to Seton
took place ; Drury gives Cecil the i6th as the date of the departure.
Therefore, we have calumny throughout.
The historic figure of Queen Mary, on the contrary, is ever noble.
At the very time that she is represented carrying on mad gallantries at
Seton, she is thinking of her husband. Scarcely returned, she has, at
the risk of bringing down upon her head the Presbyterian wrath, a
requiem sung in her Chapel Royal for the soul of the unfortunate
Darnley {Birrel, 7) ; and we learn from Drury that on Good Friday
she remained in her Chapel, with only two ladies, from the evening till
three in the morning. (Drury to Cecil, 29th March. Border Corresp.)
I ask the reader if a woman who prays thus for her husband could be
guilty of having him murdered ?
Archibald Douglas, who had his share in the meeting at Witting-
ham, points out on whom the accusation ought to fall. Charged by
Morton to go and ask Bothwell for a writing signed by the Queen, in
token of her consent to the murder of her husband, he received the
following answer :
" Shaw to the Earl of Morton that the Queen will hear no speech of that matter appointed
unto him.'' Arch. Douglas to the Q. of Scots. — Robertson^s app.
Was it the question of the divorce or of the murder ? Douglas
VOL. n. Y
170 DISSERTATION II.
suspected the murder ; and Mary perhaps never heard of this message,
or that her name had been mentioned at such a meeting.
Morton, at the hour of his death, declared that he refused to sign
anything without seeing a document from the hand of the Queen.
Bothwell promised to satisfy him, but, adds Morton :
" the quhilk warrand he never reported vnto me . . and thairfoir seing the earl of Bothwell
neuer reported ony warrant of the Queine, I medlit never farther with it." Morton's Confession.
— Bannatyne Memor.
From all those texts, I conclude that Mary was not a woman to kill
her husband ; that she had no interest in doing so ; that she never
wished to be separated from him ; that the nobles, on the contrary, had
long plotted his death ; that their conduct at the murder was equivocal ;
that the murderers were their friends, but the Queen's enemies ; that
they were accused by public rumour, while the same voice declared the
Queen innocent ; in short, that to clear themselves they had recourse to
slander, altering dates, and misrepresenting facts ; and that they alone
are guilty.
III. — SHE HAS AGAINST HER :
I St. Her letters to Bothwell.
A very difficult question, and one which requires on the part of the
reader the greatest attention.
Presttmptwns against the letter's.
First, Minds were long made up to blacken the good name of the
victim. After the battle of Langside, John Wood encourages Thomas
Crawford
" by all possible methods to search for more matters against her." — Hosack, 195.
" The Earl of Murray tooke much pains both by letters and messingers to clear himselfe
at the Court of England, and laye the crime upon the Queen. The Queen of England herselfe
was soone satisfied, although the Court and generalitie could hardlie be perswaded otherwayes."
— Herries, 85.
" All thyngs consydered," writes Sir F. KnoUys, " I see not howe hyr Majestie can with
honor and safetie detayne this Queen, unless she shall be utterlye disgraced to the world and
that contrarie partie be thorolie mayntayned." — Goodall, II., 161.
Cecil wrote in 15 71 to the ambassador of England in France :
" How were it not amiss to have divers of Buchanan's little Latin books, to present, if need
were, to the King, as from yourself, and likewise to some of the other noblemen of his Council ;
for they will serve to good effect to disgrace her, which must be done, before other purposes can
be attained." — Goodall, I., 25.
DISSERTATION II. 171
Those various passages, together with the letter which EHzabeth
wrote to Moray, on the 20th of September 1568, that she would never
restore the Queen of Scots to her kingdom,
" whether she be found guilty or not of the horrible murder of her husband." Elizabeth to
Moray, 20th Sept. — State Paper Office.
and that of Sussex to Cecil, 2 2d of October, of the same year,
" I think surely no end can be made good for England except the person of the Scotch
Queen be detained by one means or other, in England." — Lodge, I., 458.
show that there was a settled purpose to defame Mary. Buchanan's
pamphlets were sown broadcast, while those who gave away Lesley's
" Defence " were put into prison, (jf. Lesley, Diary, Bannatyne Club
Miscel., III., 117, 118.)
2d. Prestimption.
If Bothwell had had such letters in his - possession, he would not
have failed to show them at the tavern of Ainslie, so as to get the
signatures of the nobles, instead of promising another statement which
he never could bring forward. He would also have taken them with
him in his flight, since he took to Norway papers infinitely less precious
than those, and he not only did not take them with him, but he never
alluded to them.
If it be said that those papers were overlooked by Bothwell, as of
little importance, it must be confessed, at least, that they were of the
greatest importance for Mary. How is it possible after that, to admit
that she left them lying about in a small box ?
2,d. Prestimption.
Moray's party circulated among the public a great number of false
documents. Some days after the battle of Carberry-hill, the nobles
showed Kirkaldy, to quiet him, a letter from the Queen to the Earl of
Bothwell :
" promysing amang many vther fair and comfortable wordis, neuer till abandoun nor forzet
him." — Melville s Memoirs, 1 86.
And Melville assures that
" it had stopped his mouth." — Melville s Memoirs, 186 ; Bishop Keith, 403.
Lesley says :
" Thay committed sic heynous crymes, gif ane conterfute lettre be sufficient to saif thame
mantene thair cause and conquers to thame ane kingdome." — J. Leslefs presented Letter, froin
a " Journal of Affairs," MS., University 0/ Edinburgh.
172 DISSERTATION II.
That letter was so great a farce, that the authors, ashamed of their
gross fraud, allowed it to be forgotten. No one, except Kirkaldy, ever
saw it. The moment was badly chosen ; it was not at the time of that
crisis, or on that frightful night spent at the Tolbooth, that Mary could
write a letter ; the very materials could not be had.
At the York conferences Moray had handed to the English Com-
missioners,
" the said Queenis Consent gevin to the Lordis to subscribe the band for the promotioun of the
said James, Erie Bothville, to hir Marriage." — Goodall, II., 87 ; Chalmers^ I., 386.
The commissioners speak thus of the document :
" They procured a warrant, which was now shewed'unto us, bearing date the 19th of April!,
signed with the Queue's hand, whereby she gave them hcence to agree to the same, affirming
that, before they had such warrant, there was none of them that did, or wolde set to their hands,
saving onlie the Earl of Huntley." — Goodall^ 11., 140.
That warrant is so much the more surprising as those who signed
the bond never saw it. {Mortons Confession in Bannat. Mentor.,
318.) It likely did not seem of much value to the accusers and judges,
for save the above secret communication, it was never again mentioned
either at Westminster or Hampton Court. — Goodall, II., 235, 257.
" This must have been," says Mr Glassford Bell, humorously, " a very curious and
interesting warrant, and it is somewhat surprising that it had never been heard of before." —
Life o/Q. Mary, II., 296.
It may be said in defence that the documents handed in have been
authenticated. Alas ! even that authentication is worthless. In the
" Registrum honoris de Morton," 26, is found an act in which it is said,
" Sanctissimo Christi invocato nomine, amen," that the Queen wishing
to abdicate,
" the nobilitie and certane vtheris estatis of the realme war past to Striuiling according to hir
hienes said commandiment to croun the prince and inwest hym of the Kingdome," . . .
And the Queen affirmed :
" the lettres quhilkis sche subscrivit to the effect above writtin to be of propir motive quhilkis
she now as of before the subscription thereof ratifiit and apprevit. In respect therof the said
Williame (Douglas of Lochleven) protestit that hir Maiestie suld not be comptit heireftir as
captive, or in person, &c."— No. 27, 26. (Signed) Joannes Feyrne, Notarius publicus.
That is a document authenticated in due form, and one might have
grounds to attach much importance to it had not the facts transpired,
and clearly proved that it was only a cheat. — Chalmers, I., 386.
What happened on the 24th of March 15 71 is still better.
Elizabeth, in concert with Lennox, had asked King Frederick for
Both well's extradition. The King's reply, sent by Thomas Buchanan
DISSERTATION II. 173
to the Earl of Lennox, fell into the hands of Morton. The latter,
without further ado, unseals it, keeps it for a month, alters it at leisure,
and then sends it on, mutilated, to its destination. Morton himself
told the fact thus :
" We ressavit a lettre, written furth of Denmark be Mr Thomas Buchannane to zour
Grace, of the dait of the xx of Januar ; and because we jugeit that sum thingis mycht be specifyit
thairin quhilk wer expedient to be rememberit upon heir, we tuke the baldnes to opin and
reid the lettre ; quhilk it may pleis zour Grace presentlie ressave."
" The cause quhy it hes bene sa lang in sending wes, that we thocht not best to commit
it to the throuch-post, or a commoun messinger ; for that we haid na will the contents of
the same suld be knawin, fearing that sum wordis and matteris mentioned- in the same,
being dispersit heir as novellis, suld rather have hinderit nor furtherit our cause. And thair-
foir, being desirit at Court to shaw the lettre, we gave to understand that we had sent the
principal away ; and deliverit a copie omittand sic thingis as we thocht not meit to be shawin,
as zour Grace may perceave be the like copy, quhilk also we have sent zou herewith ; quhilk ze
may communicat to sic as zour Grace thinkis expedient to communicat the haill contentis of
the principal lettre vnto." — Goodall, II., 382.
The bearing of that document will escape no one ; nothing needs
be added.
Origin and Examination of the Letters.
According to the enemies of Queen Mary, Bothwell sent his servant
Dalgleish to Edinburgh Castle to fetch a box containing tender letters
which the Queen had written to him. Balfour hands them over to
Dalgleish, but at same time lets the lords know of what is going on :
the road to be taken by Bothwell's servant is watched, the box seized,
and the bearer thrown into prison. Moray's Diary gives, under date
of the 20th of June,
" Dalgleshe chalmer-child to my lord Bothwell wes takin and the box and letters quhilk he
brought out of the Castell." — Anderson, II.
People may wonder why Bothwell should have kept letters which
compromised himself. To that question the adversaries reply : —
" On se rend facilement compte du sentiment " One easily understands the feeling which
qui d^termina Bothwell k ne pas ddtruire des led Bothwell to keep letters which established
lettres qui ftablissaient entre lui et Marie betwixt him and Mary Stuart a binding under-
Stuart une solidarity complete, et qui pouvaient standing, and which might become, in his
devenir entre ses mains une arme terrible hands, a terrible weapon against the possible
contre les inconstances possibles de la Reine." inconstancies of the Queen."
— Teulet, Lettres de Marie Stuart, IV.
Supposing that reason to have existed for a time, it is quite evident
that Bothwell, once in possession of the Queen, ought to have destroyed
those unlucky autographs. He had as much interest at stake as the
174 DISSERTATION 11.
Queen, in doing away with them, for they contained the written proof
of his participation in the King's murder.
One wonders how it happens that only compromising letters were
found in the box. Did Bothwell then receive no other kind in his life ?
Lord Herries says on that subject : —
"Within (the box) was papers, which the confederats averred contained clear instructions
that the Queen was author of her husband's murther, under her owen hand, by letters to Both-
well. But the Queen and her pairtie mantained the contrarie and said that these were but
conterfitted by the confederat Lords ; for in the box were all those letters and papers drawen
betwixt Bothwell, Murray, and Mortoune, that discovered them to be the plotters. Which
letters Bothwell reserved, for his owen securitie, to keep them to be his friends. Bothwell se-
ing . . . his box taken wherein the letters that past betwixt Murray and him was intercepted,
which he still reserved for his secret and surest protection, as was said, he lost coura.dge and put
himself to sea." — Herries' Memoirs, 96.
That explanation, singular though it be, is, however, confirmed by
the English correspondence of the time.
" I will say," writes Randolph, 1 5th October, " that the universal bruit cometh upon three
or four persons, which subscribed into a band, promising to concur and assist each other in doing
the same. This band was kept in the Castle, in a little coffer or desk covered with green, and
after the apprehension of the Scottish Queen at Carberry Hill, was taken out of the place where it
lay by the Laird of Liddington, in presence of Mr James Balfour." — Tytler, Hosack, and
M'Neel-Caird.
Walsingham, 3d of February 1580 {Caird, 157), and Randolph, i6th
of March {Tytler, IV., 323), speak also of that green box, as well as of
the bond contained therein ; and we learn from Drury that the precious
document
" which did comprehend the names and consents of the chief for the murdering of the King is
turned into ashes." — Tytler and M'Neel-Caird.
The coincidence is indeed most striking.
One wonders how Bothwell could send Dalgleish, well known in
Edinburgh as his servant, at a time when the town was held by the
rival triumphant faction. Was it not risking his servant's life ? Was
it not revealing, by those letters, a treasure which otherwise would
perhaps have remained unknown ?
Then, again, the part played by Balfour is unlikely — nay, more,
ridiculous and absurd. Can it be admitted that he, having made that
discovery, should give the casket to Dalgleish, when Balfour himself had
betrayed Bothwell, and gone over to the opposite party ? that discovery
excused and justified his treachery, treachery, a name ever odious,
even among the wicked ? He no doubt would have mentioned it to
the lords. The adversaries say that he handed the casket to Dalgleish,
but that, under hand, he had the nobles warned. This was very far from
DISSERTATION II. 175
being a swift or sure means : for that, it was necessary to detain Dalgleish
until the lords were told of it, and had taken up their positions on the
road ; it was necessary to be certain that Dalgleish would not destroy
those documents, &c., before he should be taken. In good faith, would
a man such as Balfour, himself accused of the King's murder, {Cabala,
136), have thus risked such documents? And why have them taken
by others who were not more than he in a government fallen the day
before, and not yet re-established ?
Things go on more simply, and it seems that not one of those
difficulties was foreseen : Dalgleish goes through the town, enters the
Castle, returns scatheless, and the indifferent nobles do not at once
show to the people, still burning with love for Mary, those detestable
letters.
Despite its importance, the taking of Dalgleish passed unnoticed.
Neither du Croc nor Drury, so eager for news, speaks of the finding.
The author of the " Diurnal " says nothing about Dalgleish. Birrel does
not speak of his arrest ; he does nothing but wordily mention that he
was hanged and quartered with Hepburn and Powrie, without saying a
word about the casket. Melville, whom many look upon as a model
of truthfulness in his accounts, has him taken, with the Laird of Tallow,
in the Shetland Isles (186). No cotemporary author tells us how or
where Dalgleish was arrested, so much was the matter talked about !
Nay more : in the examination which he underwent on the 26th of June
there was no mention made of the letters found ; and just before his
death, warned, no doubt, of what was being said in town,
" il jura publiquement sur la damnation de son " he swore publicly, on the damnation of his
&me, que jamais il n'auoit veu ces lettres et soul, that he had never seen those letters, and
qu'onque il ne porta, ni fut qu&ir le coffret that he had never carried or gone to fetch the
dent il est question." — Belleforest, I ., 526. coffer in question."
Those considerations acquire a certain importance when one takes
heed of the way in which the letters were produced.
They were seized, it is said, on the 20th. Now, on the 26th, the
members of the Privy Council issue a proclamation to seize Both well
as murderer of the late King and traitor ravisher of the Queen
{Anderson, I., 139). Not a word about the letters; and yet Dalgleish
had been examined on that day. On the 27th of June the same lords
unite, under Morton, and decree tortures against the two Blacaters and
James Edmonston, without alluding to the letters or to Dalgleish.
When Throckmorton, on the nth of July, proposed to set Mary free,
the nobles objected, but not a syllable was breathed about the letters
176 DISSERTATION II.
{Bishop Keith, 417). On the 14th of July he says that the Queen is
much more closely confined,
"because she will not by any means be induced to lend her authority to prosecute the murder,
nor will not consent by any perswasion to abandon the Lord Bothell for her husband, but avoweth
constantly that she will hve and die with him." — Robertson's Append.
Not a word about the letters, which might, however, have thoroughly
proved the insane fancy of Mary for Bothwell ; and it was three weeks
since they had been found ! On the 1 8th, the same ambassador speaks
of the public mind changing against Mary, of her crime of adultery with
Bothwell, of the arrests, &c., and the same silence is observed {Robert-
sons Append). On the 19th the idea of secret papers is seen to
dawn : —
" They are determyned to precede agaynst her piiblykelye, by manyfestation of such evydence
as they are able to charge her with." — Bishop Keith, pref. xii.
But on the 21st., the hint, if it is one, disappears, and it is stated in
an act of the Privy Council that Bothwell,
"efter he had alswa tresonabilie revesid Hir Majestie's maist nobill Persoun, and led hir
captive to Dunbar, constrenit hir, being in his Bondage and Thraldome, to contract sic an un-
godlie and pretendit mariage with him." — Anderson, I., 142.
On the 25th, the cloud miraculously vanishes.
" They mean to charge her with incontinency, as well with the Earl of Bothwell as with
others ; having (as they say) sufficient proof against her for this crime." — Throckmorton's Letter,
Coodall, II., 62.
They are again lost sight of entirely for five months, and at length
are brilliantly presented on the 4th of December 1567 :
" divers hir previe letteris writtin halelie with hir awin hand, and send be hir to James, sumtyme
Erie of Bothwell."— Go^^a//, II., 67.
On the 1 6th of September 1568, Moray receives the casket from
the hand of Morton,
" testifeing and declaring that he (Morton) has trewlie and honestlie observit and kepit the said
box, and haill writtis and pecis forsaids within the same without ony alteratioun, augmentatioun
or diminutioun thairof, in ony part or portioun." — Goodall, II., 90.
That certificate of Moray seems so much the more singular as the
illustrious bastard was not in Edinburgh, but in France, when the box
was taken. Evil-minded people make that reflection.
It is seen, from an act of the Privy Council, that the box contained
twenty-one documents, letters, contracts, sonnets and ballets. No one
had as yet presented, and no one ever saw afterwards all those docu-
ments. Mary's enemies promise autograph letters, signed " written and
subscrivit, written halelie with her awin hand," and the letters brought
DISSERTATION II. 177
forward were neither autograph nor signed, and so wanting in authen-
ticity, that Lesley, in his letter to the Queen of England, affirmed with-
out fear of being contradicted :
" Thai ar nocht subscryvit be the allegit wretar thairof, nor seht nor signetit, and contenis
na dait of their moneth nor day, nor zit direct to na man, and in the same thair is mention
maid of a beirar, as is allegit, quho wes nevir zit knawin as did ressaif thame frome hir or deliuer
thame at hir command to ony vther in the warld." — Lesley's letter in a "Journal of Affairs."
— AIS., University of Edinburgh, and Goodall.
There is another difficulty : in what language were the letters written ?
At the York secret Conference, Moray's partisans presented letters
from Mary, in the Scottish language, as coming directly from her hand :
" these men heare do constantlie affirme the said letters and other writings, which they produce
of her own hand, to be her own hand indede, and do offer to swear and take their oaths there-
upon." — Commiss. to Queen Elizabeth. — Goodall, II., 142 ; Mr Hosack, 214.
The English commissioners were so persuaded that the letters in
the Scottish language presented to them, were the originals written by
the Queen's own hand, that in the extracts which they made from them
for Elizabeth's personal edification, the following words are noticed :
" The speciall words in the Quene of Scots lettres, written with her owne hand to Bothwell,
declaring the inordynate and filthie love betwixt her and him." — Sadler'' s Papers, II., 337.
Sadler gives only the English summary of the letters, claiming for them
the title of autographs ; but the textual extracts which were sent by the
commissioners to the English minister, and which Goodall has reproduced
from the original, were in Scottish langtiage. (Chalmers, III., 284 sq.)
From that, the Scottish text is then the true original of Mary's
letters, " written with her owne hande to Bothwell."
In Moray's instructions to the Commendator of Dunfermline, we
read :
" We producit eight letteris in French, written be the Quenis awin hand, and sent to the
said James, sumtime Erie of Bothvill." — Goodall, II., 87.
Not only the language in which the documents were written, but
also the number of them in the casket varied ; one of the letters
remained no doubt at the bottom of the marvellous box, for Moray's
envoys produced only seven.
" They produced seven several wrytings, wrytten in French in the lyke Romain hand, as
others her letters which were shewed yesternight, and avowed by them to be wrytten by the
said Quene, which seven wrytings being copied, were read in French." — Journal of Commiss.
— Goodall, II., 235.
On the 13th of December, at Hampton Court, the original letters
appear without mention of the language, but on comparing them with
those which Mary had sent to Elizabeth, one is led to believe that
VOL. 11. z
178 DISSERTATION II.
they are in French : for the two Queens always corresponded in French.,
[Goodall, II., 235.)
From those texts we learn that Moray sent to York eight French
autograph letters, and that his commissioners put forward only seven
autograph Scottish letters.
I am well aware it will be objected that the Scottish version pre-
sented to the English commissioners was the translation of John Wood.
That explanation can scarcely be defended; ist, because Sadler and
the commissioners speak of originals ; sdly, because the extracts are
in Scottish language ; 3dly, because, from the Scottish text, an English
translation was made for the satisfaction of Elizabeth (Chalmers,
II., 435), which would not have been done if there was a French text,
for Elizabeth understood and wrote the latter language as if it had been
her own.
A publisher of the Detection, even during Buchanan's lifetime,
thought he could conciliate opinions by asserting that
" the letters placed at the end had been written by the Queen, some in French, some in Scottish,
and some wholly translated into Latin." — Goodall, I., 103.
That kind of explanation has been abandoned, and now the learned
hold that the original French text has been lost, and that the text given
by Buchanan is only the retranslation into French of the Latin transla-
tion from the Scotch translation of the primitive French text ! The
poor souls are obliged to admit that hypothesis, for, in truth, the exist-
ing French translation, although of the XVI. century, is so awkward
and so often contrary to the meaning and good sense of the Scottish text
and of reason, that it is impossible to look upon such a version as the
original. The reader will judge of that by some quotations.
P. 9. Edit. Teulet, " sum" (some) is translated into Latin by
" quemdam," and in French by " un ;" further, p. 19, the word " irkit"
(wearied) is translated with as much coarseness as ignorance into
Latin by " nudata sum," into French by "je suis toute nue." A nice
state to be in, M. Wiesener humorously says, to set about writing
during the night, in Glasgow, in the depth of winter.
P. 30. The sentence " to the quhilk (bracelet) I can get no lokkis,"
ought to have been translated into French by these words : " je ne puis
accommoder au bracelet son fermoir." The Latin translator having
translated " lokkis " by " ceram " instead of " seram," the clever French
interpreter has bravely written : " je ne puis accommoder de la cire au
bracelet." It is clear that this great blunder has arisen from the Latin
text. It now remains for the reader to decide if M. Mignet is right
DISSERTATION II. 179
when he pretends that the present French text has been translated
direqtly from the Scottish text.
The whole of the wretched dispute is shrouded in darkness.
" Buccananus vnas vno, alio loco multas " Buchanan writes in one place that the
scribit fuisse Reginse ad Bothuellum literas Queen had sent a letter, in another, many
de nece mariti." — Jebb I., 410. letters, to Bothwell, concerning the death of
her husband."
What letter is meant ? Is it the coarse scroll shown to- Kirkaldy
after the battle of Carbery-Hill ? Or is it the first letter from Glasgow ?
Neither the one nor the other. It is an autograph letter which was
never seen at York or Westminster; but the one of which Moray,
by no means an unreliable witness, left the following description with
the ambassador of Spain.
" que se avia sabido sin duda por una carta " that he had learned (the truth) beyond the
de la reyna escripta al Bothuel, de mas de tres shadow of a doubt from a letter of more than
pliegos de papel toda de su propria jnano, y three sheets, written by the Queen to Both-
Jirmado de su nombre j en la cual escrivia en well, all in her own hand and signed with her
sustancia, que no tardasse en venir d poner i. name, in which she wrote in substance that he
execucion lo que tenian ordenado, porque su should not delay in coming to carry out what
marido le dezia tantas buenas palabras por they had decided upon, for her husband was
enganarla y atraerla i. su voluntad que podria saying so many sweet words to her to beguile
ser que lo moviese d ello, si no se hazia lo her and entice her to his will that he might
demas con presteza, y que ella misma iria i. perhaps gain her over if the end were not
traerle y vendrian i. una casa en el camino i. quickly reached ; that she herself would go
donde procuraria se le diese algun bevediza, y and fetch him (her husband) and that they
que si esto no pudiese hacerse, le pondria en should come to a house on the way where she
la casa d donde estava ordenado lo del fuego, would endeavour to give him some drink and
para la noche que se avia de casar un criado if that were not possible, she should take him
suyo, como se hizo ; y que el se procurasse to the house where inflammable materials had
desembaragar de su muger apartandose della, been put in the night time during which her
dandole algun bevida con que muriese.'' De servant should be married, as it happened :
Silva to Phihp II., 31st July 1567. — Arch, de and that for his part (Bothwell) he should seek
Simancas. Inglaterra leg. 819, 61. to get rid of his wife by separating from her
or by giving her some drink from taking which
she might die."
That summary has no reference to any of the letters attributed to
Mary. It is another autograph letter quite distinct, of which, notwith-
standing its importance, no one heard afterwards.
Moray at first loudly asserted that the letters were autograph and
signed ; he lowered his tone a little when the question arose of bringing
the letters to bear against the Queen of Scots, and he was the first to
doubt their value. He said in his note to Middlemore :
" It may be that sic letteris as we haif of the Quene, our Soverane Lordis moder, that
sufficientlie in our opinioun, preivis hir consenting to the murthure of the King hir lauchful
husband, sal be callit in doubt be the juges to be constitute for examinatioun and trial of the
caus, quhether thay may stand, or fall ; pruif, or not." — Goodall, II., 76.
i8o DISSERTATION II.
Moray was not far wrong in his conjectures, for in the middle of the
debates, one of the judges, who had, for himself, looked into the value
of those documents, expressed the same doubts still more strongly :
" If her adverse partie accuse her of the murther by producying of her letters, she will deny
them, and accuse the most of them of inanifeste consent to the murther, hardely to be denyed ;
so as upon the tryal of bothe sydes, her proofs will judicially fall beste out, as it is thought."
Sussex to Cecil, 22d October 1568. — Lodge.
The better to prop up the letters, Moray brings forward the confession
of the pretended bearer, Nicolas Hubert, so called " Paris." He makes
him say that, with his own hand, he delivered the letters to Bothwell,
in Edinburgh. The wretch does not remember that on that date,
according to his own diary, Bothwell is in Liddesdale, seventy miles
from Edinburgh. {Anderson, II., 272.) Yet the idea of supporting
the letters by confessions was well received in England, and Walsingham
wrote to Cecil (20th November).
" that if for the discovery of the Queen of Scots's consent to the murder of her husband, there
lacketh sufficient proofs, he is able to discover certain (persons) that should have been employed
in the said murder and who are here to be produced." — State Papers, Mary Q. of Scots, and
Chalmers.
Notwithstanding the mitographs and confession, Moray's wavering
was yet such that he would not charge his sister till he had made sure
of Elizabeth's help. Commiss. to Q. Elizabeth- (Goodall, II., 136.)
What inference must be drawn from so great indecision in such a man ?
No one doubts that Mary's writing was often forged {Life of Kirk-
aldy, 180, Glassford Bell, II., 327) and Moray, himself, had been
suspected as the forger {Goodall, I., 198, Marioreybanks, 15.) The
boldness of the lines made it easy to imitate her writing, and specimens
could easily be had, for the poor Queen wrote a great deal. As Moray
had foreseen, the Queen's commissioners attacked the authenticity of
the letters so keenly that the forgers must have felt it.
" Sa Maiest^ proteste et iure solemnellement " Her Majesty protests and solemnly swears
en foy de Princesse et par la redemption de on her faith as a Princess and by the redemp-
son ame, qu'elle ne les a iamais escrites, et tion of her soul that she never wrote them and
qu'elles ont estd supposdes par ses ennemis, et that they have been put in form by her enemies,
extorqu^es de quelqu'vn qui pensoit contre- and that some one who thought he could forge
faire sa main. Ce n'est pas la premiere fois her writing has been made to write them. It
qu'ils ont vs^ de ceste mani^re de faire. Mour- is not the first time that they have so acted,
ray icy present en sgauroit bien que dire, s'il Moray, here present, could say a good deal'
vouloit confesser la vdritd, la quelle toutesfois on the subject, if he were to confess the truth,
est si bien cogniie et a est^ tellement auer^e, which however is so well known and has been
qu'il ne la peut nier. Lorsque le ieune comte so proven, that he cannot deny it. When the
de Hontley estoit prisonnier k Dombar, Mour- young Earl of Huntly was a prisoner at Dun-
ray d^pescha homme par deuers le Seign. de bar,Moraysentamant6theLordof Craigmillar,
Craigulair, capitaine du Chasteau auec lettres Captain of the Castle, with letters, forgeries
DISSERTATION II.
cotrefaites de la main de Sa M. par lesquelles
il luy estoit "enioint qu'incotinet les presetes
receues, et sas aucu delay il fist mourir ledit
cote. Le capitaine, home courtois et gratieux,
et meu de pitid de ce pauure ieuiie Seig. luy
mostre les lettres, et pr§d aduis auec luy de
differer I'&ecution iusques k ce qu'il eut en-
tedu la volonte de Sa M. par sa propre bouche
. . . s'estant present^ deuant elle, il luy declare
qu'il auoit executd le contenu de ses lettres, et
que son cousin le comte de Hontley estoit
mort. Quoy entendu, elle se print aux cheueux,
detestant et maudissant la desloyautd de
ceux qui auoient estd les autheurs d'vn tel
acte. Alors le capitaine resiouy, remercia
Dieu de ce qu'il n'auoit creu k ses lettres, les-
quelles il luy monstra si bien falsifides que sa
Maiestd les pensoit auoir escrites, et y auoir
apposd son nom, combien qu'en sa vie elle
n'eust pSsd au cotenu d'icelles. Mais enfin,
elle trouua que c'estoit son frfere bastard qui
les auoit enuoydes. . . . Et afin que vous ne
pensiez, Messieurs, que ce soient bourdes que
nous vous donnons en payement, tenez et
regardez, ie vous prie, voilk les lettres. Et en
ce disant, leur mirent lesdites lettres entre les
mains, et quelques autres de mesme estofe,
contrefaites par Mourray et ses complices,
dont ils se trouuerent bien confus et ne sceu-
rent que repliquer. . . . Nous disons donq que
la Royne n'a iamais escrit ces lettres, et que
quand elle les auroit escrites, elles ne pourroient
faire aucune foy, ny estre receiies en iugement.
Car elles sont sine die et consule, comme on
dit, et ne sgauons en quel temps elles ont estd
escrites, ny par qui, n'estans soubscrites du
nom de personne quelquonque, ny signdes in
scellees, ny I'escriture recogneue. . . . Vous
dites que ces lettres s'addressent k Bodwel,
nous le nions. Vous dites qu'elles ont estd
trouudes dans vn petit coffre d'argSt apparte-
nant k la Royne, nous disons (si cela est ainsi)
que vous les y auez mises. . . . &c." — Black-
wood, 604-606. Cf. Belleforest, I., 527.
of her Majesty's writing, by which he was ordered,
immediately on receipt of the letters and with-
out any delay, to put to death the said Earl.
The captain, a courteous and gracious man,
and moved with pity for the poor young Lord,
shows him the letters and consults with him as
to putting off the execution until he heard the
order from her Majesty's own mouth
Having presented himself before her, he assures
her that he had acted in obedience to her
letters and that her cousin the Earl of Huntly
was dead. On hearing which she tore out her
hair, and cursed the disloyalty of the hated
men who had been the authors of such an act.
Then the Captain, overjoyed, thanked God
that he had not believed in her letters, which
he showed to her so well forged that her
Majesty thought she had written them, and
had signed her name to them though she had
never in her life dreamt of their contents. But
at length, she found out it was her bastard
brother who had sent them. . . . And, gentle-
men, that you may not fancy we wish to take
you in with untruths, look, I pray you, there
are the letters. And so saying the said letters
were put into their hands along with some
others of a similar description, forged by
Moray and his accomplices, at which they
were very much confused and knew not what
to answer. . . . We say then that the Queen
never wrote those letters, and, though she had
written them, that they could not be trusted
to nor received at her trial, for they are
sine die et consule, as the saying is, and we
know not when they were written nor by whom ;
there being no one to swear to the handwriting
which is without signature or seal. . . . You
say those letters are addressed to Bothwell ;
we deny it. You say they have been found in
a small silver casket belonging to the Queen ;
we say (if that is true) that you put them there.
. . . &c."
When de Silva, the ambassador of Spain, spoke of those letters
to EHzabeth, she answered :
" que no era verdad, aunque Ledington avia
tratado mal esto, y que si ella le viese, le diria
algunas palabras que no le harian buen gusto."
G. de Silva to Philip II, 21st July 1567. — Arch,
de Simancas, Inglaterra, leg. 819, 42.
" that such was not true, and that Lethington
had worked badly at it, and that if she saw him
she should say certain things to him which
would be bitter to him."
i82 DISSERTATION II.
" It was notoriously known Lethington, by his own confession, had often counterfeited (her
hand)." — Craufurd's Memoirs, loo ; Jebb, i86.
"The English Commissioners require better proofs than by letters, for Lethington had
counterfeited her hand, and was suspected might do so by these." — Sanderson, 64.
Those texts accuse Lethington alone ; yet the contents of the letters,
the allusions, the names, the story of Lady Reres, clearly prove that if
Lethington was the scribe, Buchanan was the real author of that mys-.
tery. He alone could write in French such atrocities ; he had been a
Professor of Belles-Lettres at the College of Bordeaux, and at St^-
Barbe. He was ungrateful enough to do it, for he had dragged in the
mire, one after another. Professor John Major, who had drawn him out
of poverty, and had given him the start in literature ; the King of
Portugal, who had welcomed him with distinction in his states ; the
monks, who had given him shelter in the hour of danger ; the Emperor
Charles V., whose exploits he had formerly sung ; and lastly, this same
Mary Stuart, who had saved him from death, and who had bestowed a
pension on him in Scotland. {D. Irvijtg, L, 80; J ebb, \\., 475.)
That is enough, I think, about the forging. I have been anxious
to examine separately the part played by Moray's band. I have proved
that it was a settled purpose to defame Mary, that Bothwell never had
any such letters in his possession, that Moray circulated among the
public a large number of false documents, that the origin of the letters
is absurd, the part of Balfour ridiculous and dangerous, the taking of
Dalgleish uncertain, the silence of the nobles unlikely, their words and
deeds not in keeping with their discovery, the attestation of the letters
insignificant, and the number of the documents seized variable ; that the
promise of autograph and signed letters was not kept, those letters
being neither autograph nor signed, and being without date or address,
and presented in turns in Scottish and in French ; that the authors
were uncertain as to the success of their invention ; that Bothwell, to
whom the letters were handed in Edinburgh, was, according to
the forgers themselves, on the borders of Scotland ; in short, I have
proved that Mary's writing had often been counterfeited. After
having traced the acts of Moray's partisans, it is but fair that I should
examine the question as regards Mary Stuart. I am about to show
that the Queen had no time to write those letters, and that she could
not write such things ; I shall conclude with the judgment passed upon
them by the commissioners of York and Westminster, and with the
sudden change of opinion which time and reflection brought about
among those who had watched the proceedings more closely.
DISSERTATION II. 183
§ I. — The Queen had no Time to Write:
First, the Letters from Glasgow ;
Second, the Letters from Stirling.
1st. The Letters from Glasgow. Two opinions.
First Opinion. — Mary goes on the 20th. (Diiirnal of Occurrents, 105),
or the 2ist (Moray's Diary, Anderson, IL, 271) to Glasgow, where she
arrives on the 23d {Idem, ibidem). Paris follows her ; he spends two days
(the days of the 24th and 25th) in Glasgow (Confess., Teulet, 94), which
fixes his departure on the 25th, if one reckons the day of the 23d in
the two days, or on the 26th, if one allows two full days. Paris,
having the letter, repaired to Edinburgh, and handed it to Both-
well. The Queen left Glasgow on the 27th of January (Moray's Diary,
Anderson, IL, 272).
It is very unlikely that the Queen sent Paris to Edinburgh with a
letter on the eve of her setting out from Glasgow, and it cannot be
believed that, in such a circumstance, she should ask an answer. That
seems inadmissible. But if one studies the letter in detail, it will be seen
that Paris took the letter and awaited the reply only on the 27th, the
day of the Queen's departure.
In the first third of the letter Mary Stuart writes :
" Touchant Guillaume Hiegait, il I'a con- "As to the rest of Willie Hiegait's, he con-
fessd, mais non jusques au jour d'ipres mon fessit it, hot it was the morne efter my
arrivde." — Teulet, 11. cumming."
That sentence, then, points out that the famous letter could not
have been written, at the earliest, before the 25th. Mary would not
have written those words had the thing taken place on the day itself.
The Latin confirms the French and Scottish texts : " postridie quam
veneram."
At page 16,
" voilk ce que j'ai despech^ pour mon pre- " this is my first jornay : I shall end ye same
mier jour, esperant achever demain le reste." ye morne."
At page 18,
"je m'en vay pour trouver mon repos jusques " I am gangand to seik myne till ye morne."
au lendemain."
At page 19,
"je suis toute nue (read ; ennuyee) et m'en " I am irkit and ganging to skip."
vay coucher."
So much for the day of the 25th.
1 84 , DISSERTATION II.
" J'ay aujourd'huy travailld jusques k deux " I wrocht this day quhill it was twa houris
heures en ce brasselet, pour y enfermer la clef upon this bracelet, for to put the key of it
qui est jointe au bas avec deux petites cordes." within the lock thairof, quhilk is couplit under-
— 23. neth with twa cordounis."
At page 27,
" Le porteur vous recitera plusieurs particu- " This beirer will schaw zou mony small
laritds d'autant qu'il y a trop de choses qui thingis ; becaus I have over mekle to wryte,
restent h escrire et qu'il est desja tard." and it is lait."
At page 30,
" Je ne I'ay (Darnley) point veu ceste aprfes- " I saw him not this evening for to end zour
disn^e, parce que je faisoye vostre brasselet." bracelet."
At page 34,
" II est tard, n^anmoins je ne ddsire jamais " It is lait ; I desyre never to ceis fra wryt-
cesser de vous escrire." ing unto zou."
The day of the 26th is taken up in the same way ; we are at the
27th.
Second Opinion.- — The second opinion held by {Goodall, I., 120);
(Chalmers, I., 366; II., 446); [Miss Strickland, III., 111-114); {M.
Wiesener, 164, 165), gives to the Glasgow letters a blow as fatal and
more speedy. According to those learned authors, the Queen set out
from Edinburgh only on the 24th, because there have been found in the
registers of the Privy Seal two acts, one dated the 22d, the other the
24th of January, both signed by the Queen. The reader is at liberty to
choose the one or the other of those two opinions : I do not judge them ;
yet the English Border correspondence tends to confirm the second.
The second letter is not a whit more clever ; it is dated from Glasgow
" ce samedy matin." That cannot have been in the first part of the
month, or before the 23d or 24th, seeing that the Queen did not set
foot in Glasgow before that time. It can then be only between the
24th and the 27th, the date of her return. Thus the letter has been
irrevocably fixed as of Saturday, 25th of January. In the opinion of those
who assert that the Queen set out on the 24th from Edinburgh, that
letter is inadmissible, for, as Moray himself admits {Anderson, II., 271),
on the day after her departure, Bothwell was still beside her. There is
then left to examine, only the first opinion, which leads to absurdity.
In the first sentence, Mary is supposed to complain of Bothwell's
negligence in letting her hear from him, and in the course of the letter,
she says :
" Si Paris m'apportoit ce pourquoy j'avoye " Gif Paris bringis me that quhilk I send him
envoyd, j'espfere que je me porteroye mieux." — for, 1 traist it sail amend me."
38.
DISSERTATION II. 185
The first letter was not yet written ; and Paris was still near her !
As far as the third and fourth letters are concerned, I really do not
know what to do with them. In the third, written, likely, after the first
two, Mary asks Bothwell to let her know " de bon matin" how he is : it
is incredible ! M. Mignet, clever champion of Moray's cause, has
examined the translations without enquiring whether Mary had, or had
not, time to write the originals. I defy him to get out of the dates.
2d. Letters from Stirling.
Four letters ; dates vague: April, 1567, except the third, which is
damned by being too precise : 22d of April, 1567 [Teulet, 56).
Mary sets out on the 21st, and returns on the 24th of April. Mr
Wiesener, discussing the dates, writes :
"It must be remembered that the Queen, who left Seton on Monday, 21st of April, to go and
see her son at Stirling, slept on the way at Callander, reached Stirling on the next day, 22d,
spent there the night between the 22d and 23d, set out again on the 23d, slept at Linlithgow
betwixt the 23d and 24th, and was seized by Bothwell just as she was entering Edinburgh.
She then spent in Stirling, only the single night between the 22d and 23d." — Questions
Historiques, V., 395.
Four letters in a single night ; really it is too much ! But the sur-
prising thing is that the second sentence of the first letter points out an
already long separation between Mary and Bothwell, which is contrary
to the facts, for Mary had just left Bothwell in Edinburgh. {Moray's
Diary, Diurnal of Occttrrents). This is the sentence :
" Vous m'aviez promis que vous vous resould- "Ze had promysit me that ze wald resolve
riez en toutes choses, et que chacun jour, vous all, and yat ze wald send me word every day
m'envoiriez dire ce que j'auroye k faire." — 50. quhat I suld do.''
How explain the "chacun jour." Is it not a surprising blunder?
That long separation is again mentioned, p. 51.
" Si vous n'eussiez changd d'opinion depuis " Gif ze had not mair changeit zour mynd,
mon absence non plus que moy, vous ne me sen myne absence, then I have, ze suld not be
demanderiez maintenant d'en estre resolue." now to ask sic resolving."
At the idea of a long separation, that unlucky sentence again leads
one to suppose that Bothwell had written to Mary, or had had her told
that he had changed his plan. The letter could be written only during
the night, betwixt the 2 2d and 23d, for it ends with these words :
" Dieu vous donne la bonne nuict." " God give zou gude nicht."
Singular ending, by the way, as the letter, written at bedtime in Stirling,
could not reach Edinburgh before the morning.
To reconcile the first letter with the second, it must be supposed
VOL. II. 2 A
1 86 DISSERTATION II.
that Bothwell wrote anew to the Queen to express doubts to her, for
that second letter begins bluntly by these words :
" Du lieu et de Thomme (read : temps) je " Of the place and the tyme, I remit myself
m'en rapporte k vostre frfere et h. vous." — 58. to zour brother and to zow."
A like difficulty for the third letter. The first sentence is as follows :
"Mylord, depuis ma lettre escrite, vostre "My Lord, sen my letter writtin, zour
beau-frfere, qui fust, est venii k moy fort triste, brother-in-law yat was, come to me verray sad,
et m'a demands mon conseil de ce qu'il feroit and hes askit me my counsel, quhat he suld do
apr^s demain." — ijoiir del' Enlevement ; note de efter to morne." — [Day of the Abduction of
Teulet, 56.) Mary by Bothwell; note by Teulet.)
Whence it follows :
First, that the third letter was preceded by another ; and.
Secondly, that it was written, as Teulet says, on the 2 2d, the carry-
ing off being accomplished on the 24th : conclusions fatal to the first
and second letter, because Mary could write nothing before that period.
The difficulty is still greater as regards Huntly. In that same third
letter, written on the 2 2d, it is said that he
" est venu fort triste, &c.'' " came very sad, &c.
Now, in the first letter, it is said, p. 50 :
" Vostre desloyal beau-frfere vint vers moy." " Zour fals brother-in-law came to me."
And at page 5 1 :
" Je vous envoye ce porteur, d'autant que je " I send this beirer unto zow, for I dar not
n'ose commettre ces lettres k vostre beau-frfere, traist zour brother with thir letteris nor with
qui n'usera aussi de diligence.'' the diligence."
From that, it follows that in one day, Huntly came, went to Both-
well, and returned to Stirling. Let him believe it who will.
The fourth letter, a regular elegy, may be placed, no matter where,
but it was assuredly not written to Bothwell, for in that case, it would
be nonsense from beginning to end.
From what precedes, the reader will allow, with me, that Mary had
no time to write the letters attributed to her, and that M. Mignet has
skillfully steered clear of the difficulties, by shunning the question of the
dates, without even allowing it to be presumed that there was any diffi-
culty in the matter. I do him justice on that point.
§ II. — ^Mary could not Write such Things.
Letters from Glasgow.
In the first letter, p. 7, it is said :
DISSERTATION II. 187
"Le Roy appelahier Joachim et I'interrogea. " The King send for Joachim zisternicht and
... si j'avois prins Paris et Gilbert, afin qu'ils askit at him . . . gif I had takin Paris and
m'escrivissent, et si je ne vouloye pas hcentier Gilbert to wryte to vae ? and yat I wald send
Joseph. Or je m'estonne qui luy en a tant Joseph away ? I am abaschit quha hes schawin
declare ; car mesme il a tenu propos (du him sa far ; zea he spak evin of ye marriage of
mariage) de Sebastian." Bastiane.''
It seems strange, at the first glance, that all those different points
are piled up_ with so much care alongside of one another. Darnley
knew nothing of Paris, who, on the day before, was still in Bothwell's
service, and consequently he could make no inquiries of him. The
name of Gilbert Curie seems also out of place ; for, according to the
confession of Paris, there was a talk of attaching Gilbert to the King's
person only on the return from Glasgow {Teulet, 97). The dismissal
of Joseph here mentioned is the more remarkable as this servant was,
at a later period, and no doubt very wrongly, reported to be one of the
King's murderers. Bastian's marriage must have been introduced after-
wards. It is impossible to see why Darnley should trouble himself
about that marriage, and why Mary should attach so much importance
to it ; for neither the one nor the other foresaw that those unfortunate
nuptials were to end so sadly. The forgers ought also, before making
a secretary of Paris, to have asked him if he could read or write : the
poor wretch was quite ignorant of both reading and writing, as we learn
from his second confession. All that passage then is to be looked
upon as unlikely.
At page 8, Mary repeats from memory a long conversation she had
with Darnley ; and, wonderful to tell, Thomas Crawford, to whom
Darnley afterwards gave it from, memory, wrote it down in private,
again from. m.emory, so literally that the terms themselves are quite
identical :
Scotch. English.
" Ze ask me quhat I mene be the crueltie " Ye asked me what I ment bye the crueUye
contenit in my letter ? It is of zow alone that specified in my lettres ; yat procedethe of yow
will not accept my ofiferis and repentance," etc. onelye that will not accept mye offres and re-
— Mary's letter. pentance," etc. — Crawford's deposition.
The affair of Minto (11) and some other details are given with full
particulars. It would be necessary to quote all. I shall merely register
the fact, and catch, as I go along, the forgers in the act.
At page 1 1 we find :
" Dieu sgayt quelle peine je " God knawis how I am " God knoweth howe I am
porte, de ce que j'ay fait de punischit for making my punischit for makinge mye God
vous un Dieu." God of zow." of you." — Crawford's Depos.
A very unlikely remark from the royal murderer of Riccio. Taken
i88 DISSERTATION II.
along with several others (13), it has led Whittaker and Mr Henry
Glassford Bell to say : the letter minutely reproduces Darnley's re-
proaches without saying a word about Mary's answers ; therefore it is
false, for in that statement of the case is clearly seen the fixed purpose
of defaming the Queen of Scots. Mary could not have written so.
At page 16 : ^
"Aujourd'huy le sang est sorti du nez et de la " Thys day his fater bled at the mouth and
bouche k son pfere; vous done devinez main- nose, ges quhat presage that is. I have not zit
tenant quel est ce presage. Je ne I'ay point sene him, he keipis his chalmer."
encore veu, car il se tient en sa chambre."
If it be so, either Crawford's deposition or the letter is false ; for
there is written in the deposition :
" The Kinge for yet mye L. hys father ivas theti absent and sicke, bye reason whereof he
coulde not spake with sellfe, called me vnto him and theise wordes yat had then passed betwixt
him and the Quene, he gave me in remembrance to reporte unto the said mye Lord hys father."
The confession and the letter do not agree ; and it is beyond belief
that a man gifted with such a good memory did not remember that his
master dwelt in the same house, and bled at the nose.
At page 1 7 :
" Nous sommes conjoints avec deux espfeces " We ar couplit with twa fals races. The
d'hommes infideles (read : races perfides) . Le devil sinder us, and God knit us togidder for
diable nous veuille s^parer, et que Dieu nous ever, for the maist faithful! coupill that ever
conjoingne k jamais, k ce que soyons deux he unitit."
personnes tr&s fiddles, si jamais autres ont
estd conjointes ensemble."
The word " diable " was never uttered by Mary. Moreover, she
knew well that the Catholic Church, which she loved in her heart's
core, forbade such marriages {Concil. trident., Sess. xxix.) : it is therefore
through oversight that the Protestants have lent their doctrines to the
Queen of Scots. They ought to have looked more searchingly into
what took place at Trent on the i ith of November 1563.
After a disgraceful scene intended to lower Mary's character, the
forger makes the Queen of Scots say (23) :
" Maintenant, je vien a ma deliberation " I am now passand to my fascheous pur-
odieuse. Vous me contraignez de tellement pois. Ze gar me dissemble sa far, that I haif
dissimuler que j'en ay horreur, veu que vous horring thairat; and ye cause me do almaist
me forcez de ne jouer pas seulement le per- the office of a traitores."
sonnage d'une trahistresse."
The word " odieuse," " fascheous," and the consideration which
follows, cannot have been written by a woman of strong passions :
there is no likelihood of it.
At page 34, it is said :
DISSERTATION II. 189
"Excusez mon ignorance k escrire et relisez "Excuse my evill wryting, and reid it twyse
mes lettres. Excusez la briefvetd des Carac- over. Excuse that thing that is scriblit, for I
tferes, car hier je n'avoye point de papier quand had na paper zisterday quhen I wrait that of
j'escrivis ce qui est au m^moire. Ayez sou- ye memorial!. Remember upon zour lufe, and
venance de vostre amye et luy rescrivez wryte unto hir, and that verray oft. Lufe me
souvent. Aimez-moi- comme je vous aime et as I sail do zou.
ayez memoire du propos de Mademoiselle de " Remember zou of the purpois of the Lady
Reres. Reres.
" Des Anglais. " Of the Englishmen.
" De Sa Mfere. " Of his mother.
" Du Comte d'Orghley. " Of the Erie of Argyll.
" Du Comte de Bothwell. " Of the Erie of Bothwell.
" Du Logis d'Edinburgh." " Of the Ludgeing in Edinburgh."
Might not that " ignorance a escrire " and that " briefvete des
caracteres " be precautions of the forgers ? It is strange that, in a
love-letter, notice should be taken of matters so trifling. Her bidding
to "rescrire souvent" can scarcely be understood, when they are to
meet in two days, and when they are only sixty miles fron one another.
" The end is strange," says, with justice, the learned Professor
Wiesener. That the writer, having no paper the day before, should,
when at the middle of her letter, have used, as is asserted, the sheet on
which were her notes, may, once in a way, be admitted, although it is
surprising that the development should end just above the prepared
notes ; but here, at the last words, what is the use of the second table
of contents, which, besides, is not one, for it does not correspond with
the developments of the second part ? What is the meaning of Mary
begging the Earl of Bothwell to remember the Earl of Bothwell ?
Why mention made of " the ludgeing in Edinburgh," when, in that
letter and in the following, the residence at Craigmillar alone is talked
about ? Is it meant to make one believe that the crime of Kirk-of-
Field is being already arranged ? What mean the words, "des Anglais,
de sa mere ? "
The second letter opens with a great trouble ; no news from Both-
well ! As if the road between the one and the other could be gone
over in the twinkling of an eye. At page 35 it is said :
"J'ameine I'homme avec moy lundy d Crag- " I bring the man with me to Craigmillar
miliar." upon Monounday."
The clever ones think that a bad combination, and that Mary does
not really know what she is about. There is here a contradiction
which shocks them, and if the letters had not been owned as authentic
by Moray himself, they would cast them aside as a mean attempt at
forgery. Bothwell prepares on the 24th the lodging at Kirk-of-Field
(Moray's Diary, Anderson, II., 272). Mary orders Paris to ask him
190 DISSERTATION II.
what dwelling he thinks best for the King ; the answer is Kirk-of-Field,
that " le logis est prest" {Teulet, 96), and now she wants to take the
King to Craigmillar Castle. To explain that, and excuse Mary Stuart
from changeableness in her plans, it is said that Paris had not yet brought
the answer from Bothwell ; but then, how admit that Mary could send
four letters, one after another, if she had not yet received an answer to
the first. The question of time is opposed to it. To complete the
contradiction, in the deposition certified by Thomas Nelson it is said :
" the King suld haif lyne first at Craigmyllare : bot becaus he had na will thairof the purpois wes
alterit and conclusioun takin that he suld ly besyde kirk oi i&\A."— Anderson, IV., 165.
Whence it follows that Kirk-of-Field was chosen only as a last
resort, and on the refusal of Darnley to go and live at Craigmillar ;
but contradictions, and impossibilities even, prove nothing : the letters,
M. Mignet says, are authentic.
The third letter is the most curious of all ; it breathes a perfume
of honesty and sweet affection, which contrasts strongly with the ribaldry
of the earlier ones. Many historians will have it, that it was written to
Darnley, by no means to Bothwell. They inquire what has become of
Darnley's papers ; and they prove that before blowing up the house it
may have been completely pillaged. There was time enough, and people
enough, for the purpose.
That letter cannot have been meant for Bothwell, for at page 41
there is written :
"Vous aviez deffendu que je n'escrivisse ou "Ze commandit me nouther to wryte nor
que je n'envoyasse par devers vous ; n^ant- send unto zou : zit I have not done this to
moins je ne I'ay faict pour vous offenser." offend zou."
That is at variance with the letters to Bothwell, in which the two
lovers long to hear from each other : " Je ne desire jamais cesser de
vous escrire," p. 34 ; " ayez souvenance de vostre amye et luy rescrivez
souvent," p. 35 ; direcdy opposed to the first sentence of the second
letter :
"au partir vous me promistes de vos nouvelles, " at zour departing ze promysit to mak me ad-
et toutesfois je n'en puis apprendre." vertisement of zour newis from tyme to tyme."
and at pages 42 and 43,
" Vous prie que, suivant vos promesses, vous " I prayis zou, according to zour promeis, to
me faciez entendre vostre affection ... en discharge zour hart unto me ... in ony-
toutes les choses qui vous concernent, ou qui thing that tuichis zou, or zat may preserve and
vous peuvent garder et conserver d celle k la- keip zou unto hir to quhome only ze appertene ;
quelle seule vous estes entiferement de droict ; gif it be sa that I may appropriate that quhilk
car je vous puis m'attribuer comme mien, qui is wyn throch faithfull, zea, only luifing of zou,
vous ay acquis seule loyaument, en vous aymant as I do, and sail do all the dayis of my lyfe." '
aussi uniquement comme je fay et feray tant
que je vivray."
DISSERTATION II.
191
It seems to me that Mary could not use such words to Bothwell,
for he by no means belonged to her by right, and the gaining of him
could not by any means be loyal. So, let us to others.
At pages 44 and 45,
" Je m'en vay coucher et vous dy adieu.
Faites moy certaine de bon matin de vostre
portement ; car je seray en peine jusques k ce
que je I'entende . . . ceste lettre fera vol-
ontiers ce que je ne pourray faire moy-mesme,
si d'aventure, comme je crain, vous ne dormez
desja."
" I am going to bed, and will bid zou gude
niclit. Advertise me tymely in the morning
how ze have fairin ; for I will be in pane unto
I get worde . . . this letter will do with
ane gude hart that thing quhilk I cannot do
myself, gif it be not that I have feir that ze ar
in sleiping."
That sentence could never be written from Glasgow to Edinburgh ;
all tends to show that he to whom the Queen wrote in those terms was
in the neighbourhood, a short way from her. That passage, coupled
with that from page 43 copied above, almost clearly proves that the
letter was addressed to Darnley himself.
At page 45,
" Je n'ay os6 escrire en presence de Joseph,
Sebastian et Joachim."
" I durst not wryte this befoir Joseph, Bas-
tiane and Joachim."
Nowhere do we see that those three servants went with the Queen
to Glasgow ; it is very nearly certain that two of them, Joseph and
Bastian, had stayed in Edinburgh.
In the middle of the letter is a sentence commonly believed to have
been put in by the slanderers of Mary. The words foreign to the
letter are in italics.
" Je vous prie que, suivant vos promesses,
vous me faciez entendre vostre affection ;
{autrement f estimeray que cela se faict par
mon malheureux destin et par la favcur des
astres envers celles qui toutesfois n'ont une
tierce partie de loyautd et volants que fay de
vous obeir, si elles, comme si j'estoye ujte sec-
onde amye de yason, malgrd moy, occupent le
prem,ier lieu de faveur j ce que je ne dy pour
vous accomparer a cet homme en Vinfdlicitd
qu'il avoit ny moy avec une femme toute esloi-
gnee de misericorde comme estoit celle-ld,, com-
bien que vous me coniraignez estre en aucune
partie semblable a elle), en toutes les choses
qui vous concernent," &c.
Diderot, who has had the merit of supplying the author of "la Rhe-
torique fran^aise" {Girard) with an example of gibberish, could not
have written better. M. Wiesener remarks on that subject that
Buchanan proudly counted his translation of Medea one of his strongest
" Prayis zou, according to zour promeis, to
discharge zour hart unto me : (utherwayis I
will think that my malhure, and the gude
handling of Mr that hes not ye third part of
the faithfull nor •willing obedience unto zou
that I beir, hes wyn, aganis my will, y at ad-
vantage over me, quhilk the second lufe of
Jason wan . not that I will compair zow unto
ane so tmhappy as he was, nor zit myself to
ane sa unpietifull ane woman as scho. How-
beit, ze caus me to be sumthing lyke unto hir),
in onything that tuichis zow," &c.
192 DISSERTATION II.
claims to literary fame. "Does not an allusion to the tragic personage,
then the object of all his cares, slipped into the letters, necessary com-
panions of the Detectio, betray the hand of the vain-glorious forger ? "
{M. Wiesener, 197.) I am quite of the opinion of Miss Strickland,
and of Messieurs Wiesener and Hosack, on that point. No letter of
Mary contains those unseemly allusions.
The fourth letter, except in the allusion to Sebastian's marriage,
may be looked upon as insignificant against Mary ; it is of value only
against its authors. It begins in a very unnatural and far from happy
manner :
" Mon coeur, h^Ias ! faut-il que la folie d'une " My hart, alace ! must the foly of ane
femme dont vous cognoissez assez I'ingratitude woman quhais unthankfulnes toward me ze do
vers moy soit cause de vous donner d^plaisir." sufficiently knaw, be occasioun of displesure
unto zow."
Who is that woman ? One might have searched in vain if the
translator Buchanan, with very unwilling clumsiness, no doubt, had not
himself named Margaret Garwood (Hist. trag. "jfebb, I., 342). Well, can
it be believed ? that woman, made to appear so ungrateful, was always
Mary Stuart's most faithful servant ; the Queen of Scots gave her a
dowry and a marriage outfit {Miss Strickland, III., 148), and wished to
be present at her wedding ; the grateful bride shared, at a later time, the
captivity of her Sovereign, and earned by her constancy and fidelity the
particular hatred of Elizabeth's fellows. {Labanoff, VII., 153.) The
imposture could not be more manifest.
Letters from Stirling.
The first (v.) letter treats of the abduction. It states at page 50 :
" Je vous veux bien advertir que vous " I advertisit zow weill to tak heid of your
preniez bien garde k vostre desloyal beau-frfere. fals brother in law. He come to me, and with-
II vint vers moy, sans me faire apparoistre que out schawing me ony thing from zow, tald me
c'estoit de vostre part, et me dit que vous that ze had willit him to wryte to zou that that
I'aviez requis qu'il vous escrivit ce que je I suld say, and quhair and quhen ze suld cum
voudroye dire et oil et quand je pourroye aller to me, and that that ze suld do tuiching him ;
k vous, et ce que vous d^liberiez faire de luy. and thairupon hes preichit unto me yat it was
Et sur cela il me remonstra que c'estoit une ane fulische interpryse, and that with myne
folic entreprise, et que pour mon honneur je ne honour I could never marry zou, seing that
vous pouvoye prendre k mary, puisque vous being maryit ze did cary me away, and yat his
estiez mari^, ny aller avec vous, et que ses gens folkis wald not suffer it, and that the Lordis
mesmes ne le souffriroient pas, voire que les wald unsay yameselfis, and wald deny that
Seigneurs contrediroient k ce que en seroit thay had said. To be schort, he is all con-
propose. Bref il semble qu'il nous soit du tout trarie.''
contraire."
That is by no means probable on the part of a man who from
DISSERTATION 11. 193
beginning to end had had a hand in Bothwell's criminal plot, who,
according to Moray himself, signed, and was present at, the contract
of the 5th of April, was, two days before using those words to Mary,
among the first to put his name to the Ainslie bond, and, in short, was
present at the marriage {Diurnal of Occtir., 1 1 1.)
At page 51 it is said :
" Touchant la place (de renlfevement) par- " Tuiching the place (of abduction), ze are to
donnez-moy si je vous dy que vous estes trop negligent, pardoun me, to remit zour self
negligent de vous remettre k moy. Choisissez- thairof unto me. Cheis it zour self, and send
la done vous-memes et m'en advertissez." me word of it."
When Buchanan drew out the eighteenth book of his History, he
forgot that particular in his Detection, for he writes without circumlocu-
tion at No. 27.
" Antequam Edimburgo discessisset, cum eo " Before leaving Edinburgh she had arranged
(Bothuelio) transegerat, ut ipse revertentem ad with Bothwell that he should carry her off on
Almonis pontem eam raperet, ac secum, quo her return at Almond Bridge, and that he
vellet, velut per vim, abduceret." should lead her away with hiin as if by force,
whither he would."
In the same page it is said :
" Je vous envoye ce porteur, d'autant que " I send this beirer unto zow, for I dar not
. je n'ose commettre ces lettres k vostre beau- traist zour brother with thir letteris, nor with
frfere, qui n'usera aussi de diligence. II vous the diligence. He sail tell zow in quhat stait
dira de mon dtat." I am."
In the first letter from Glasgow, p. 27, it is said in like manner :
" Le porteur vous r^citera plusieurs particu- " This beirer will schaw zow mony small
laritds." thingis."
So many confidential messengers have seemed very strange to
several writers. People refuse to believe that Mary should have
trusted to servants a secret so important as the murder of a King.
The second (vi.) letter also contradicts Buchanan's account, for it
is stated in the first sentence :
" Du lieu et de I'homme (read : temps) je " Of the place and the tyme, I remit myseli
m'en rapporte k vostre frfere et k vous." to zour brother and to zow."
Then that point was not settled " antequam Edinburgo discessisset."
There is an absolute contradiction to the preceding letter in which
Mary mistrusts Huntly, since here she trusts him. Those two passages,
written the same night, are not admissible, despite the acknowledged
authenticity of the letters.
At page 55 it is said :
" Donnez beaucoup de belles paroles k Led' " Mony fair wordis to Lethington."
ington."
VOL. II. 2 B
194 DISSERTATION II.
Mary could not write those words, for during that night Lethington
was with her at Stirling {Melville, 177; Moray's Diary, Anderson, II.,
275). The Diurnal of Ocatrrents says even that
"it wes devisit that William Maitland, yonger of Lethington, secretare to our Souerane
ladie, being in Mr company the tyme forsaid, suld have bene slane ; neuirtheles he and George,
erle of Huntlie, chancellare, wes taikin to Dunbar, and thair haldin in captivitie for a space."—
no.
M. Mignet, with the prudence which characterises him, has entirely
overlooked that difficulty. He might, however, have added it to " so
many proofs of the authenticity of the letters which are quite in keeping
with Mary's moral conduct" (I., 436). That is a sin of omission of
which the illustrious Academician is often guilty.
Third (vii.) letter. Huntly feels fresh remorse, and comes back
to Mary to ask her counsel :
" ' My lord,' says Mary, ' depuis ma lettre " ' My lord,' says Mary, ' sen my letter writ-
escrite, vostre beau frfere qui fust, est venu tin, zour brother in law zat was, come to me,
k moy fort triste et m'a demand^ mon con- verray sad, and hes askit me my counsel, quhat
sell de ce qu'il feroit aprfes-demain.' " he suld do efter to morne.' "
Besides the question of time treated abov^ there is in the sentence
a difficulty and an anachronism. The difficulty is to account for the
conduct of Huntly,
" du tout contraire au mariage," " all contrarie " (jo),
working the same day, in concert with Bothwell, at the abduction of the
24th (p. 53) and being very sad, asking what he should do on the
morrow (p. 56).
The anachronism consists in Both well's divorce : " vostre beau-
frere qui fust," " zour brother-in-law zat was." Miss Strickland quotes
somewhere a proverb which says that " falsifiers require to have good
memories." The forgers have been tripping here through not consult-
ing their registers. The text published by Robertson, App., proves that
the divorce was sought at the religious tribunal on the 2 7th of April ; at
the civil, only on the 29th. The latter date is entered in the Diurnal
of Occurrents also ;
" Vpoun the penult day of Aprile, the actioun of dyvorce wes intentit be Jeane Gordoun,
countes of Bothwill, aganis James Erie of Bothwill Vpoun the third day of Maij 1567,
tlie sentence of divorce wes pronouncit be the commissaris of Edinburgh." — no.
Mary therefore could not have written that sentence.
The 4th (viii.) letter which was not put forward at Westminster is
a sort of elegy which several writers think was addressed to Darnley :
The words lead to that belief — the details are unimportant.
DISSERTATION II. 195
The sonnets, such as we have them, are, as admitted by Teulet, a
translation of the Scotch text, itself translated into verse from the
original sonnets, p. 65. I register that declaration, and I draw this
natural consequence, that in Edinburgh, they could write anything in
French, for they succeeded in turning Scotch poetry into French verse.
Moreover, " the fraud," says M. Wiesener, " is manifest in several places.
To the picture of wailing and lamentation of Lady Gordon, and of her
desperate efforts to retain the husband who leaves her, we might oppose
the silence of history. In point of fact. Lady Jane seems to have made
up her mind easily ; she accepted a domain as compensation, and soon
took another husband. On no occasion did she complain of Mary
Stuart." — 215.
That is not all : the action for divorce is drawn up in the name of
the Countess, not at all in that of the Earl, as is seen from the notarial
act and the Diurnal quoted above. Therefore those wailings are not
real.
From what we have gone over, I conclude that Mary had no time
to write such letters, and that she could not write them.
It may not be needless to say that on the 22d of April, the day of
the above mentioned amorous follies, Mary wrote, in her own hand, this
time, a letter to the Bishop of Mbndovi :
" Je vous prieray me tenir en la bonne grdce " I beg of you to keep me in the good grace
de Sa Sainctet^ et ne le laysser persuader au of His Holiness, and not to let him doubt my
contrayre de la devotion que j'ay de mourir en sincere intention to die in the Catholic faith
la foy catolique et pour le bien de son ^glise, and for the good of his church, which I pray
laquelle je prie k-Dieu croitre et maintenir, et God to increase and support. I pray also that
qu'il vous doynt heurheuse et longue vie. he may grant you a happy and long life.
De Sterlin, ce xxii. d'Avprill. From Stirling, this 22d of April.
Votre bien bonne amye. Your very good friend,
Marie R." Marie R."
A few lines before, in the same letter, she says :
" Pour lequel effect (decommuniqueravfeques "For which effect (to communicate with
vous) je despecheray, estant de retour k. Lisle- you) I shall despatch, on my return to Edin-
bourc, homme exprfes." — Prince Labanoff, II., burgh, an express messenger."
20.
After that what can one think of the amorous letters of the 2 2d, and
of the plan of having herself carried off ? Let us conclude with a
summary from Melville, who, as is well known, is not by any means
scrupulous in accusing Mary.-- {Memoirs, 354-5) :
"A number of false reports were already rife against him (James VI)., and the'same treat-
ment had been shown to his mother, the prisoner Queen, who had been defamed by all sorts of
calumnies, and by the circulation of counterfeit letters and alleged practices, in order to prepare
196 DISSERTATION II.
the minds of the people to see a blood so illustrious shed without compassion and without
murmur."
That testimony is the more significant, as Melville was at Stirling
with the Queen.
The Conferences of York and Westminster, where there was so
much partiality in favour of Moray, that the honest Fenelon was
indignant at it (cf. I., 15, 17,19, 51, 53, 81, 89, 92),
" have not onely found the said Queene innocent and guiltlesse, of the death of her husband, but
doe withall fully understand that her accusers were the very contriuers, deuisers, practitioners
and workers of the said murther." — Lesley's Defense, 80.
That affirmation, by Lesley, is supported by the following doc-
ments :
" Cependant mes rebelles s'apercevans que " Meanwhile, my rebels noticing that their
leur course prdcipited les emportoit plus oultre headlong course was carrying them further
qu'ilz n'avoient pourpensd et la virM estant than they had expected, and the truth having
apparue des impostures qu'on semoit de moy, been found out of the falsehoods spread against
par la conference k laquelle je me soubmis me, by the conference before which I willingly
volontairement en ce pays, pour m'en esclaircir came forward. in this country, to clear myself
publiquement en plaine assamblde de vos publicly, in presence of a full meeting of your
ddputez et des miens, etc." — Mary to Elizabeth, deputies and mine, &c,"
Prince Labanoff, V., 323.
"Da tutti fu conosciuto senza dubio alcuno "It was acknowledged by all, without any
che ella era innocentissimo et che li accusatori doubt that she was quite innocent and that the
erano culpevoli di questo delitto."— Cr. Petrucci accusers were guilty of the crime."
to Cosmo I., Idem, VII., 147.
In the middle of the Conference, Lethington seeing that there was
no chance of sustaining any longer the authenticity of the letters which
the judges thought more than doubtful {Sussex, Eraser's Magazine,
New Series, IV., 744), forsakes Moray's side, and says to Norfolk :
" that he had cam thyther, not ageynst the Queue of Scotts, but for hir part : and so moved this
examinat to think that the Quene was not gilty of the crimes objected." — Murdin, 164.
Cecil attributed so little value to the letters presented by Moray,
that he wrote in 1569 :
" The Fame of hir murdering of hir Husband, will, by Tyme, vanish awey, or will be so by
Defence handled, as it shall be no great Block in hir Waye, to acheive to hir Purposes."
Haynis Collection of State Papers, 581,
" Ces calomniateurs voyants qu'il n'y faisoit " Those slanderers feeling that they were
pas beau, se retirferent laissans les iuges bien getting the worst of it, withdrew, leaving the
ddifiez de la Royne, et la reputans incoulpable judges much edified with the Queen, and hold-
et innocente du crime de ce meurtre, ou con- ing her guiltless and innocent of that murder,
sentement d'icelluy, et hers de soupgon de or of consent to it, and free from suspicion of
toutes les villennies par eux mises en auant." — all the villanies put forward by them."
Belleforest, Jebb, I., 532.
DISSERTATION II.
197
" Les commissaires retournez par deuers
Elizabet et son Coseil ddclar&rent la
Royne d'Escosse innocente de tous les cas et
crimes k elle faulsement imposez par les
accusateurs." — Blackwood, 622.
" Los juezes publicaren que la Reyna de
Escocia era innocente de todos los crimines y
pecados que era acusada por los rebeldes."
" Epistolis verb et carminibus (cum nomina,
subscriptiones, notatio temporis deessent, et
ubique plures sint falsarii qui aliorum charac-
teres tam scite assimilare et exprimere norunt,
ut veri ab Ementitis non internoscantur)
Elizabetha vix fidem adhibuit licet muliebris
semulatio (quse ilium sexum transversissimum
agit) intercesserit ; satisque habuit quod ex his
accusationibus aliquid probri Scotorum Reginas
adhseresceret." — Camden, I., 1 14.
"Maria a suspicione objectas casdis, omnium
qui aderant judicio, exempta est : immo in al-
tero etiam conventu super eadem re indicto,
rejecto in accusatores, Mortonum in primis
atque Moravium, crimine, propius supplicio
fuere, qui supplicium intentaverant." — Strada,
Jebb, II., 108.
" The commissioners who had returned to
Elizabeth and her Council, declared the
Queen of Scots innocent of all the charges and
crimes falsely imputed to her by the accusers."
"The judges published that the Queen of
Scots was innocent of all the crimes and
excesses of which she was accused by the
rebels."
" In reference to the letters and sonnets, as
they had neither address, signature, nor date,
and as there were many forgers so clever, that
they imitated and counterfeited the writings of
others with such accuracy, that the real could
not be told from the false, Elizabeth did not
put much reliance in them, although the
jealousy of women which makes their sex so
spiteful, drove her to credit them. She con-
tented herself to see that the accusations cast a
slur on the Queen of Scots."
" Mary was declared innocent of the murder
of which she was accused, by all those who
were present at the trial : much more, in an-
other sitting held for the purpose, the crime
was thrown back upon the accusers, especially
on Morton and Moray; and those who had
asked for punishment were most exposed to it."
Facts come to the support of words to proclaim the innocence of
the Queen. Norfolk, the first of the judges, becomes attached to Mary-
Stuart, and dies for her in London ; Lethington, the chief of the accusers,
finds his death in Scotland while fighting for her ; J. Balfour, who drew
out the bond, for a long time traitor to the Queen, goes back to her in
1576; Morton expiates on the block the crime with which he loaded
her ; and Buchanan, the author of so many calumnies, wishes, at his
death, that his libels had been given to the flames. Camden, 105 ; Jebb,
pref., and II., 61; Hilarion de Coste, II., 526; Mackenzie, III., 173.
§ II. — Depositions of the Accomplices who were Punished for
HAVING TAKEN PART IN THE KiNG's MuRDER.
I have already stated, in reference to the origin of the letters, that
Dalgleish protested, before dying, against the part he had been made to
play : I shall say no more about that declaration, but at once deal with
the confessions of Paris which most strongly accuse Mary Stuart.
The archivist Teulet has said of those confessions :
1 98 DISSERTATION II.
"As for those two documents themselves, which have reached us, the one by a copy of the
period, the other by a copy, also cotemporary, and moreover authentic, it would be vain to tiy
to contest the sincerity of the writers. They are both remarkable for an artlessness very difficult
to counterfeit, and abound in minute and exact details, which the most perfect forger could never
succeed in imitating or arranging." — Teulet, 80, note.
I dispute the sincerity of no one ; but I deny the truth of the
account, and I am far from finding in it that perfect exactness spoken
of by the famous critic.
The origin of the confessions gives rise to doubts. Nicolas Hubert,
so-called Paris, a refugee in Denmark, was handed over to Moray
in October 1568 {Hosack, 245), and confined in Edinburgh Castle.
Although it was he, it is said, who carried the letters from Mary to
Bothwell, he was called to appear neither before the Council, to justify
his commission, nor at the Westminster Conferences, where two, so to
say, good-for-nothing witnesses were brought forward, Crawford and
Nelson. After the Conferences, in August 1569, Elizabeth, learning
that Moray had in his power a prisoner of so much importance, sent
three times to ask him to give up Paris ;
"but," says M. Wiesener, "the skilful man had foreseen the difficulty. As early as the 15th of
August, Paris was hanged at St Andrews without trial. The Regent expressed his regret tfiat
the execution had taken place before the arrival of the letters of her Majesty ; but I am con-
fident, added he, that the testimony he has left will be found sufficiently authentic, that its value
may not appear doubtful to your Majesty, nor to those to whom nature gives the most powerful
reasons (the Lennoxes) to wish for the worthy punishment of the crime ; and he sent the report
of two examinations undergone byHubert on the 9th and loth of August 1569, incriminating:
the first, Bothwell; the second, Mary Stuart, and in addition, Maitland of Lethington and Sir
James Balfour, with whom Moray had lately quarrelled. The mention of their names in that docu-
ment prepared the arrest of Maitland, which took place the same month." — M. Wiesener, 183.
The second confession was made
"in presence of Mr George Buchanan, Master of St Leonard's College, in St Andrews; Mr
John Wood, Senator of the College of Justice ; and Robert Ramsay, writer of this declaration,
servant to My Lord Regent's Grace." — Chalmers, II,, 343, note.
That is to say, vouched for by Moray's partisans alone. That is
what may be safely called of very equivocal origin.
1st Confession. — This Confession clears Moray, and tends to blacken
Bothwell as much as possible : he is accused of the crime which brought
about the ruin of Sodom (85) ; Mary is not mentioned in the confession.
Pages 87 and 90. Bothwell orders Paris to get for him the keys of
the Queen's chamber ; and as the latter refuses, the brigand adds :
" J'ay des clefz assez sans toy." " I have keys enough without you."
That behaviour on the part of Bothwell proves that Mary had
nothing to do with the murder ; for if she had had a hand in it, her
DISSERTATION II. 199
first thought would have been to give keys to those in her trust, without
Bothwell needing to carry them off secretly. On the contrary, he had
to get false keys and compare with the real ones ere he could hope to
succeed in the enterprise. (Diurnal, 105.) Ormiston, who took part in
the murder, says :
"He haid preparit xiij falss keyis to haue opinit the lockis." — Diurnal, 338.
At page 87 it is said :
"Au bout d'une heure Marguerite me prie "At the end of an hour Margaret desires me
d'aller k Kirke of filde querir une couverture to go to Kirk of Field and fetch a sable cover-
de martres k la chambre de la Reine." let that had been left in the Queen's chamber."
Teulet and M. Mignet, of several Academies, pretend that it was
to save it from the disaster. Nothing proves it ; and it is imprudent
to draw, from that simple fact, so grave a consequence, because Mary
might well deck with it the nuptial bed when the bride retired to rest.
As has been seen in the text, the retiring to sleep was always attended
with some solemnity. Probably Mary's chambermaid, who sent Paris
for the coverlet, and got it from his hands, had no other intention ; for
supposing Mary wished only to save the article, she might have waited
till the next day, as night had already set in (88), and as the murder
was committed only during the following night. But this question
raised by
'' cette riche couverture en peaux de martre " — " that rich coverlet of sable "
M. Mignet
is the more worthless as the word " martres " does not exist : the
manuscript and the printed form in Laing, II., 302, bear "couverture
de maytres," and not " martres ; " so that the matter is reduced to this :
that Margaret Garwood sent Paris for a master s (handsome) coverlet,
no doubt to deck the bed of those good servants who were being
married at Holyrood, The word "-martres'' has been substituted for
" maytres " by Teulet. The manuscript and Laing's text bear in two
places " maytres" and not " martres!'
Queen Mary's Inventory, 1561-1567, mentions no sable coverlet;
yet there are found in the general list, coverlets, cushions, &c. The
persons who know how minute those Inventories are, must attach
some importance to that observation. Besides, we shall see later that
Mary left at Kirk-of-Field things more precious still.
At page 90,
"Voicy Jehan Hepburn et Jehan Hay qui "Here John Hepburn and John Hay enter
entrent en la chambre, Ik ou j'estois, et por- the room where I was, and carry powder in
200 DISSERTATION II.
toient de la pouldre dedans des sacz qu'ils bags, which they put in the middle of the said
misrent au milieu de la dicte chambre." chamber."
The same things are put in the mouth of John Hay and John
Hepburn. {Anderson, H., 179, 186.) The cotemporaries have told
the matter in quite another way. Birrel, relating the effect of the
powder, says :
" The hous wes raiseit up from ground with pouder." — 7.
The Diurnal of Occurrents :
"And blew the hous in the air, swa that thair remanit nocht ane stane vpoun ane vther
vndestroyit." — 106.
Cecil to Norrys :
" His lodging was razed with Gunpowder."-^Cfl:i5a/fl, 135.
Despite the confessions, cotemporaries are unanimous in saying that
the damage was caused by a mine, and Buchanan himself owns it
formally :
" thay had undertnynit the wall, and fillit the hoilis withe Gune-powder." — Detection, 70.
Melville :
He (Bothwell) "maid a train of pouder, or had maid ane of before, quhilk cam vnder the
house wher the K. lay j and in the nycht blew vp the said house with the pouder." — 174.
" It has been clearly seen that this unhappy affair was caused by a mine underground." —
Clernault, reports in Von Raumer and Chalmers.
" And yet more particularly,'' writes Goodall, " the Earl of Morton's Inditement bears that
the powder had been a little before placed and put in by him and his accomplices under the
ground and angular stones, and within the vaults and low and dern places of the lodging, with
which it was blown up, as is said in the act of privy council, 'with such force and vehemency,
that of the whole lodging, walls and others, there was nothing left unruined and reduced to
dross, to the very ground stone,' which a heap of powder in the floor of the Queen's chamber
could not have done." — I., 147.
The confession is then incorrect.
As regards the powder, some people say that Mary was dreadfully
stupid to wish to kill Darnley by means of it. It makes, they say, too
much noise, and there were other ways of reaching the same end ;
others say that the great noise was made intentionally by the Queen's
enemies, to defame her, and lay at her door a crime of which they were
themselves the authors. Is it possible to reason like the latter ? Who
does not see, on the contrary, that Mary by choosing powder, wished,
by a remnant of commiseration, to kill Darnley in an honourable
manner, and make up by the noise of the explosion for the rounds of
artillery, which the nobles never would have fired at the burial of him
whom they called "a tyrant and a young fool ?"
DISSERTATION II. 201
Paris continues :
" En ce faysant, voicy Monsieur de Boduel "While doing this, My Lord Bothwell comes
qui survient et parle k eux dysant : Men Dieu, in and speaks to them, saying : My God, what
que vous faictes de bruict ! on oyt d'en hault a noise you are making ! People hear above
tout ce que vous faictes." all that you are doing."
Nine lines higher up Paris said that, above, in the King's chamber,
" were the Queen and some of her lords," among others Argyll, Both-
well's accomplice. That reproof from Bothwell to his servants confirms
what I have said about the Queen's innocence.
Second Confession.
At page 94 it is said :
" La Royne estant arryvde k Glasgow luy " The Queen having arrived in Glasgow,
diet (k Paris) : vous direz de bouche k M. de said to him (Paris) : You shall tell My Lord
Boduel qu'il bailie ces lettres qui s'adressent k Bothwell by word of mouth that he is to give
Mr. de Lethington, k luy-mesme, et qu'il parle the letters addressed to Mr Lethington to him
k luy." personally, and to speak to him."
I have already proved that "Monsieur de Boduel" was not in Edin-
burgh, and that the letters cannot have been given to him : all that
passage is false.
Malcolm Laing thought he could get out of the difficulty by saying
that Bothwell left Edinburgh only on the 25th, to go with Lethington
to the Whittingham Conference, and that they came back together on
the 28th, and that, to conceal the interview, the period of Bothwell's
departure was antedated, while giving Liddesdale as the place they
were going to. A very awkward explanation, for, if such be the case,
what reliance can be placed on the documents presented by Moray,
since the famous diary itself, written, as is said, day by day, had been
tampered with ? The explanation is inadmissible, for Drury wrote to
Cecil on the 23d of January :
" The Lord Morton lyeth at the Lord of Whittingham's, where the Lord Bothwell and Led-
ington came of late to visit." Drury to Cecil. — Hosack, 208, note.
At page 97 Paris says
"que Monsieur Boduel luy avoit diet que " that Bothwell had told him that every night
toutes les nuyts Jehan Hepburn feroit le guet John Hepburn would watch under the galleries
soubs les galleries k Saincte- Croix, cependant at Holyrood, while Lady Reires would go very
que Lady Reires yroit bien tard le querir pour late in the night to fetch him to the Queen's
I'amener k la chambre de la Royne, luy ddfen- chamber, forbidding him (Paris) on his life to
dant assavoir k Paris, sur la vie de dire que sa say that his (Bothwell's) wife was with him."
femme estoyt avecques luy."
It is perhaps time to say who was this Lady Reres spoken of in the
Glasgow letters, and who plays a part so abominable in the Detection.
VOL. II, 2 c
202 DISSERTATION 11.
Buchanan seems to have drawn from his cynical imagination the most
filthy words to describe that woman,
'' quse setate inclinata a mere- " quha now in hir age, had from " qui desia venant sur I'aage,
tricio queestu ad lenonium se the gayne of huredome, betakin auoit chang^ le gain de ses
contulerat," &c. herself to the craft of bawderie," paillardises en maquerellage,"
&c. &c.
She was a niece of Cardinal Beaton {Miss Strickland, III., 197,
note), a name little relished by the Reformers, and of nearly the same
age as Mary Stuart, for she became a mother at the same time in
Edinburgh Castle {Bannat. Memor., 174). She was likely the nurse of
the young Prince ; it is certain, at least, that to her care was entrusted
the education of the child, as we see in a note taken from the trea-
surer's register, and published by Miss Strickland (II., 340). Bothwell
had her restored to her post beside the Queen by Lady Coldingham,
his sister. Lady Reres was annoyed at it, but she never accused the
Queen ; and neither the Scottish lords nor the English commissioners
questioned her about Mary's relations with Bothwell, which they
would not have failed to do if Reres had played the part Buchanan
assigns her.
At page 98, Paris again alludes to the conversation he had with
Bothwell,
" au trou ou il se deschachoit pour faire ses '• in the place where he relieved nature.''
affaires."
and tells that
" le jour que Monsieur de Boduel luy avoit " on the day that Bothwell had told him of the
communique le faict du meurtre du Roy, qui plot to murder the King, which was the same
fust le mesme jour que la Royne couchast au day as the Queen slept at the King's residence
logis du Roy k Kirk-of-Field (ainsi comme il at Kirk-of-Field (as he well remembers), when
s'en souvient fort bien), comme ledict Paris the said Paris wanted to make the Queen's bed
vouloit dresser le lict de la Royne en sa in her chamber, which was right under the
chambre, qui estoyt droicte soubs la chambre King's chamber the said Lord Bothwell
du Roy ledict sieur de Boduel defendist forbade the said Paris to make the Queen's
audict Paris de ne dresser le lict de la Royne bed under the King's bed, ' for I wish to put
droict soubz le lict du Roy, ' car je y veulx the powder in that place.' "
mettre la pouldre en cest endroyt-lk.' "
That reflection " comme il s'gn souvient fort bien" comes in very
suitably, as, but for it, one might think poor Paris had lost his memory,
because there are two depositions which contradict him in the dates,
and several documents which prove that, till the last, Mary occupied
her room at Kirk-of-Field. The first deposition is by Hepburn, who
carried the powder to Kirk-of-Field. It says that :
DISSERTATION II.
203
"within twa dais before ye murther, yat the said Erie changed purpois of the slaying of the King
one the feildes, because yan it wald be knawn, and schew to yame quhat way it mycht be usit
better be ye pulder." — Anderson, II., 184.
The second is that of Powrie, who relates in detail how the powder
was brought by the said Hepburn, on the Saturday, two days before
the murder. (Idem, ibidem, 165-173;) Let us pass over that, and
merely say that there is contradiction. What Paris fixes for the 5th,
was thought of Ofily on the 7th. (Hay of Tallo, Anderson, H., 178.)
In the same page, Paris says :
"Je prins la hardiesse de lui (k Marie)
dire : Madame, Monsieur de Bodwell m'a com-
mandd de lui porter les clefs de vostre chambre
at qu'il a envie d'y faire quelque chose, c'est de
faire saulter le Roy en I'air par pouldre qu'il y
fera mettre. ' Ne me parle point de cela k ceste
heure-cy,' ce dict-elle. ' Fais-en ceque tu
vouldras.' "
" I was bold enough to tell her (Mary) :
Madam, my Lord Bothwell has ordered nle to
take him the keys of your room, and to tell
you that he intends to blow up the King by
means of powder, which he will have placed
there. * Da_not speak to me of that at this
hour,' said she. ' Do as you please.' "
Very good. Here Paris is not iri contradiction with the other con-
demned, but with himself. The day before, he related how he managed
to get the keys without the Queen being aware of it (p. 87) ; one page
further on, he says :
" Le Sieur de Boduel ayant fait sortir tout
le monde de sa chambre, prend la clef d'ung
coffre, qu'il avait en sa pochette, et, aprfes
avoir ouvert le diet coffre, en tire des autres
clefs contrefaictes, toutes neufves, et les regard-
ant les unes auprfes des aultres, diet k Paris .
' Ah ! oui, elles sont bien. Raporte celles Ik.'
Et U remeist les contrefaictes dedans le
coifre."
The contradiction which is found in the confessions of Paris, and the
false keys, prove that Mary knew nothing of the conspiracy.
At page 99, Paris pretends that he was back in Glasgow on Friday
morning (24th January), after taking a letter to Bothwell. I ask M.
Mignet and the Queen's enemies to explain the wonderful feat.
At page 100, it is said ;
" My Lord Bothwell having sent everybody
out of his room, takes the key of a box from
his pocket, and opening the said box, lifts from
it other false keys, quite new, and comparing
them together, says to Paris : ' Yes, they are
all right. Take back those.' And he put the
false ones back into the box.''
" Cependant que Paris estoyt absent avec-
ques ses clefs, Archibald Bethon, huyssier, de-
mande les clefs pour laisser sortir la Royne au
jardin ; et ne les pouvant trouver, la Royne en
fust faschde et diet tout haut k Paris k son
retour : ' Paris, pourquoy avez-vous emportd
les clefs de ma chambre.?' Lequel ne lui
respondit mot sur I'heure, mais aprfes, la trouv-
ant k part, luy dist ; 'Ha ! Madame, pourquoy
" While taris was absent with her keys,
Archibald Bethon, usher, asks the keys to let
the Queen out into the garden ; and not being
able to find them, the Queen was annoyed, and
said aloud to Paris, on his return . ' Paris, why
did you take aWay the keys of my room .'" He
made no answer at the time, but later on,
finding her alofre. Said to her : ' Ha ! Madame,
why did you tell me, before everybody, that I
204
DISSERTATION II.
m'avez-vous diet devant tout le monde que had taken the keys of your chamber, when you
j'avois pris les clefs de vostre chambre, voyant well know the reason?' 'Ha!' said^ she,
que vous scavez bien le pourquoy ? ' ' Ha !' ' Paris, it is all one ; never mind, never mind.''
ce dict-elle, ' Paris, c'est tout un ; ne te soucie,
ne te soucie.'"
A more than doubtful scene : it is unlikely that the Queen, who well
knew she had lent the keys to Bothwell, should wish to go out into the
garden, and thus give rise to suspicions at a later period. She would,
more likely, remain quietly at home, so as not to attract notice ; it is
still less likely that she should have got angry at Paris, and asked him
why he had taken away the keys. The simple fellow might have
bluntly told her the reason before everybody, and then what a scene !
Besides, the fact proves that Paris was touchy in his honour ; for fear
of passing in the Queen's eyes for a thief, he reminded her that she her-
self gave him the keys to put things in train for the murder of her
husband.
In the same page, Paris affirms
" que la Royne dist, en presence de ceulx de
sa chambre, qu'il y avoit eu quelque querelle
entre le Roy et Monsieur de Sainte-Croix ;
lequel avoit bon moyen k ceste heure-lk de
tuer le Roy, car il n'y avoit en la chambre alors
qu'elle pour les departir."
" that the Queen said, in presence of those of
her chamber, that there had been a quarrel
betwixt the King and my Lord of Holyrood ;
who, at that time, had a good chance to kiU the
King, for there was then in the room, no one
but her to make them give up.''
The fact was so, but it is falsely presented. It results from the
statement of Paris, that Mary stood a miotionless witness of the quarrel.
That attitude on Mary's part is contradicted by Buchanan :
" Sed, cum uterque jam manum capulo ad-
moveret, Regina, velut metuens ne fieret quod
expetebat, Moravium alterum fratrem advocat :
ut illi quoque vel in praesentia exitium, vel in
posterum crimen strueret." — Detectio.
"■ Bot quhil thay wer baith lajdng thair
handis on thair wappinis, the Queue fenzeing
as thoct sho had bene perrillously effirayit of
that quhilk sho ernestly desyrit, callit the Erie
of Murray, hir uther brother, to the parting, to
this intent, that scho micht outher presentlie
bring him in danger to be slane himself, or in
Tyme to cum to beir the blame of sic mischief
as then micht haue happinit." — Detection, ig.
I have related the fact in the course of the work.
At page I02, Paris relates a conversation which he had with the
Queen in her room of mourning :
" Le diet Paris estant entrd en sa chambre,
la Royne lui demanda : 'Paris, qu'as-tu?'
'Hdlas ! ' ce dit-il, ' Madame, je vois que chas-
cun me regarde de coste.' ' Ne techaille,' ce
dit-elle, ' je te feray bon visage ; personne ne
t'oseroyt dire mot' "
" The said Paris having entered her cham-
ber, the Queen asked him : ' Paris, what ails
you ? ' ' Alas ! ' said he, ' Madam, I see that
every one looks upon me with contempt.' ' Do
not grieve,' said she, ' I shall be kind to you ;
no one would dare to say a word to you.' "
DISSERTATION II. 205
That is belied by the facts related in the text, and is in absolute con-
tradiction with what Clernault and Killigrew tell us of Mary's reserve.
In the same page :
" EUe ne luy (a Paris) diet chose de consd- " She said nothing of consequence to him
quence jusques a ce qu'elle voulloyt aller k (Paris) until she wished to go to Seton . . .
Seton . . luy commanda de prendre dans she ordered him to take some rings out of her
son coffre des bagues et le faire porter au chas- box, and to carry them to the castle and deliver
teau et le delyvrer entre les mains de Monsieur them into the hands of Skirling, then captain
de Skirling, pour lors capitaine soubz Monsieur under My Lord Bothwell ; which was done."
de Boduel ; chose qu'il feist."
People who would speak ill of their neighbours would say bluntly
that Paris is a liar, or that the forgers are bunglers. It is bad enough
when they only accuse the Queen vaguely, and put in her mouth words
which she did or did not utter ; but why give names ? The Queen
may have said strange things, but, however willing we may be, we
cannot give in to gross absurdities. So, for example, with reference to
the " Monsieur de Skirling, pour lors Capitaine soubz Monsieur de
Boduel," in all languages people would call that an anachronism, see-
ing that before the " Queen wished to go to Seton, it was not Skirling,
but My Lord Mar who was captain." Those two particulars exclude
each other.
Drury, an Englishman, writes on the 1 7th of February :
" The Queen, this last night lay the Lord Seyton's." — Chalmers, L, 322.
The same date is given by the Diurnal of Occurrents,
" Upoun the sextene day of the said moneth of Februar, our souerane ladie past fra Haly-
rudhous to Seytoun." — 106.
And Skirling was appointed captain only on the 21st.
" The 21 of this moneth, the Castell of Edinburgh wes randred to Cockburn of Stirlinge, at
ye Quein's command." — Birrel, 7.
" Vpon the twentie ane day of the said moneth, John erle of Mar, havand the Castell of
Edinburgh in his handis, deliuerit the samyn to our souerane ladie, quha causit schir James
Colburne of Scarfing ressaue the samin and maid Capitane thairof." — Diurnal, 107.
Therefore, despite the approving ita est of Master Alexander Hay,
scribe of the Secret Council and Moray's trusty man, we shall make
free to say that the passage is false, wholly false ; that Paris never
could dictate it, seeing that he, knowing to whom he had handed the
rings, could not have made so gross a mistake.
At page 103,
" Paris diet et declare qu'environ le temps " Paris says and declares that about the time
que ledict Sieur de Boduel fust faiet due, la when the said Lord Bothwell was made Duke,
Royne lui baillast le buffet et vesselle d'argent the Queen gave him the Prince's silver plate,
de Monsieur le Prince, la oti estoyent ses on which were his arms, to take to My Lord
annoyries, pour la porter k Mr de Boduel." Bothwell."
2o6 DISSERTATION II.
In the Detection, published and circulated, as is known, under the
safeguard of Elizabeth, there is written :
"Vasa argentea, quibus a nuptiis ad eum "All his (Darnley's) silver plait quhairwith
usque diem usus erat, aufert universa ac stan- he was seruit from his Manage till that day,
nea supponit." — Detectio and Historia Bucha- scho tuke it away everie quhit, and appoyntit
nani, xvii. Peewder in the steid thairof." — 15.
In the Book of Articles, presented under oath by Moray at the
York Conferences, there is written :
" She causit hir Mr houshald and vthers hir officiaris tak fra him all the plaitt and siluer
veschell that wes appointed for him the tyme of there mariage, and quhilk had bene occupyit
for his vse and service continewalie thaireftir, and in place thairof gard deliuer pewder platis
and veschell." — Pars I.
Let the reader choose whichever opinion seems more likely. If he
judge from the text of Paris, the second opinion ought to be thrown
overboard, while the charge brought by Moray at the Westminster
Conferences must be considered a slander, the more wretched as it has
been supported in a Court of Law ; if he make up his mind to stand by
Moray's accusation, it must be granted that the confession of Paris, so
overwhelming to the Queen, is a worthless document. (Cf, M.
Wiesener, 146 ; J ebb, I., 530.)
At page 104,
" Paris diet et confesse que, la ntiyt aupara- " Paris says and confesses that, in the night
vant que la Royne fust ravie et enlevde dudict before the Queen was ravished and carried off
Sieur de Boduel, que Monsieur d'Ormistoun by My Lord Bothwell, Ormiston came to
vint parler k la Royne bien secrfeteinent k Speak to the Queen very secretly at Linlithgow.
Lythgow. La dessus la Royne rescript une Thereupon the Queen sent another letter by
lettre par ledict Paris ; et . . Paris trouvant the said Paris ; and . . Paris finding the
ledict Sieur de Boduel endormy, I'esveille et said Lord Bothwell asleep, awakes him and
luy diet : 'Monsieur, voilk des leftres que la says to him : 'My Lord, here are letters that
Royne vous envoye.' 'He bien, Paris,' ce dit- the Queen sends you.' 'Well, Paris,' says he,
il, 'couche toy R ung peu; cependant je m'en 'lie down there for a little ; meanwhile I shall
vays escrire.' Et apr^s avoir escript, il dit aur write.' And after having written, he said to
diet Paris : ' Recommandez moy humblement the said Paris : ' Commend me humbly to her
a Sa Majestd, et luy dictes que j'iray aujour- Majesty, and tell her that I shall go to-day to
d'huy la trouver sur le chemin au ponf .' " meet her on the road at the bridge.' "
That interview of Ormiston must indeed have been very secret, for
Ormiston himself never heard of it. When he appeared in 1573 at the
bar, he was questioned as to the part he had taken in Darnley's murder.
When asked what he knew of the Queen's share in the matter, he
answered :
"As I shall answer to God, shoe never spake to me, nor I to her of it, nor I know nathing
of hir part, but as my Lord Bothwell shew me." — Pitcairn, I., 511.
The promise of Bothwell to go and meet Mary " on the road at the
DISSERTATION II. ,207
bridge," cannot be let pass. The confession of Paris, as may have
been seen, is full of inaccuracies and falsehoods, and is by itself worthy
of no belief. Moreover, according to the Queen's enemies, Bothwell
kept carefully the letters which the Queen sent him. How is it that
all the letters are now safe except the one which was most compro-
mising and most precise, seeing that it fixed the day and place of the
abduction, and that it was the last written? That reflection is M.
Wiesener's (353), and I think it a serious one.
In the same page Paris confesses that
" La Royne luy diet : ' Paris, il faut que tu " The Queen said to him : ' Paris, you must
controuves quelque chose en ton esprit pour invent something to frighten Joseph, so that he
faire peur k Joseph, afin qu'il s'en aille.' Et should go away.' And seeing he could think
voyant qu'il ne pouvoit rien faire, elle luy dit : of nothing, she said to him : ' I shall have a
'Je feray faire une lettre que tu perderas der- letter drawn out which you will drop behind
ridre luy pour luy faire peur.' " him to frighten him.' "
The end is worthy of the work ; that made-up story is quite false.
This is the truth : "Joseph Lutyni is anxious to go back to his country,
and Mary gives him (6th January) a safe-conduct, in due form and very
favourable." {Prince Labanoff, I., '^(^2.) Meanwhile, Mary was robbed
by one of her household — by whom, she knew not. Joseph Riccio,
being compromised, could think of nothing better than to accuse Lutyni,
hoping perhaps that he had already gained the Continent, and that the
trick would remain unknown. Mary wrote at once to the Provost of
Berwick to arrest the guilty one. {P. Labanoff, I., 394, 17th January.)
That was the more easily done as Lutyni had fallen ill at Berwick.
Riccio, frightened, then wrote a letter full of fear to his friend, begging
him not to unfold the mystery.
" Pigliate guardia voi che la conoscete, pigli- " Take care, you who know her, take care
ate guardia che non Vabbuzi delle sue parole, lest she entrap you by her fine words, as you
come voi sapete bene ; e m' ha detto che vuol well know. I have been told she wishes to
parlare a voi un segreto, et pigliate delli dire speak to you in secret. Take care to speak to
come vi ho scritto, et non altramente, etc. . . . her in the sense in which I write to you, and
Vi prego di bnigiar la littera appresso che voi not otherwise, etc. ... I beg you will burn
I'havete letta." — Tytler, III., 41 1. the letter after reading it."
The reader noW knows enough on the subject to give his judgment,
and say what faith can be put in the wretchedly stated case, a Gothic work
studded over with absurdities, anachronisms and other blunders. There
might still be many remarks made on the confessions taken as a whole ;
but I leave them aside, persuaded as I am that I have said enough. I shall
note only that the names of Morton, the plotter, Moray and Archibald
Douglas, are seldom or never mentioned in the confessions, while the
unfortunate Blaccader or Blacater, whom his cotemporaries held to be
2o8 DISSERTATION II.
innocent, is incriminated. {Mariorey banks, Herries, Crmifurd's Memoirs,
Birrel, Dmrnal of Occurrents) The reason those names were left out
is not beyond being understood : a miracle of forgetfulness was not
needed to bringf about that marvel.
Fragments of Varioiis Confessions.
Lest I should weary the reader with this dissertation, I shall quote
only the more striking passages of the other confessions. People
wonder why those who think so much of the confessions of Paris, have
said nothing about those of the two Blaccaders, Edmonston and Fraser,
who were, however, " put in the irons and torments for discovering the
verity." Calderwood MS., Chalmers, III., 484. The rule must have
been to publish only those confessions which attacked the Queen.
Nelson's confession is, after that of Paris, the most damaging to the
Queen. It says :
"The King past directlie to the duikis hous thinking it to be the lugeing preparit for him;
bot the coijtrare wes then schawin to him be the Quene, quha oonvoyit him to the uthir hous."
— Anderson, IV., ii., 165.
The Book of Articles confirms the deposition (III. Part), and gives,
word for word, the frightful description which Buchanan gave of the
house in which the King dwelt.
Lord Herries does not speak of that adventure, but perhaps alludes
to it when he says about the King's entrance into Kirk-of-Field :
" Many circumstances are sett doune by Buchanan to make the Queen accessorie to the
murther, which was done in this hous, which are all condemned as forged, or maliciouslie
applyed, by other wryters of calmer temper." — 83.
Blackwood turns, against the Queen's enemies, the reproach which
they make her of not having lodged the King at the residence of the
Duke of Chatellerault ; and he assures his readers that Moray pointed
out to her the house where the murder was to take place, (CEuv.,
comp. 563.)
Nelson continues :
" The shalmir wes hung and ana new bed of blak figurat welwet standing thairin. . . .
She (Mary) causit tak doun the said new blak bed, sayand it wald be sulyeit with the bath, and
in the place thairof sett upe ane auld purple bed that wes accustomat to be'carit." — Anderson,
ibidem, 166.
There is, then, the question, ist, of a black bed, quite new, removed
from the King's chamber ; 2d, of an old purple bed put in its place.
The black bed mentioned by Nelson is described in the Inventory of
Queen Mary's goods :
DISSERTATION II. 209
"Ane bed of black figurit veluot." — 49, No. 3.
It came from the pillage of the Castle of Strathbougie, 1562. It
was therefore not new : first error. Then that same bed had been
restored, before the catastrophe, to the rightful owners, as witness this
note in the Inventorie :
" Deliuerit quhen the Quene wes at Hammyltoun (August 1565)."
The bed put up for him was, on the contrary, quite new ; and one
cannot understand how Nelson could make such a mistake. At page
19 of the Inventories, No. 7, we read :
" Item, ane bed of violett broun veluot (pasmentit with a pasment maid of gold and siluer)
furnissit with ruif head pece and pandis and thre vnder pandis. Off the quhilkis vnder pandis
thair is ane bot half pasm(entis) and the courtingis of violett dames without frenyeis or passnent
vp(on) the same courtingis.''
"/« August 1566, the Queene gaif this bed to the King furnist with all thingis, and in
Februar 1 567 the said bed wes tint in his ludgeing."
That note of the time is corroborated by this other particular of the
objects lost at Kirk-of-Field :
" Premi^rement, ung lictz de veloux vioUet k double pante passemante d'or et d'argent,
gamy de boys, paillasse, mattellas, trauersin et vne couuert de taffetas bleu piqude et deux aultre
couuert et ung orrillier et enuelope." — 177.
We gather from the foregoing texts that if Mary caused a bed to be
taken to Kirk-of-Field, instead of the one already prepared, it was
the King's own bed : a touching mark of her love and care for him.
The Book of Articles, which adopts Nelson's version, gives in con-
nection with this subject a hideous description of the house
"preparit for his (King's) distructioun, quhilk was vnmeit in all respectis for ony honest man to
luge in . . . ruynous waist and not inhabite be ony of a long time before." — Sook of Art.,
pars. iii.
" Small, narrow, badly kept," says M. Mignet.
Moray ought to have known, and M. Mignet ought to have learned,
that the house was not so uninhabitable and so ill kept. It was, on the
contrary, decorated in the finest style. Besides the bed of which I
have spoken, there were sofas, Turkey carpets, and sixteen pieces of
tapestry, the designs of several of the latter being thought of very
highly. [Inventories, 33, 39, 51, 177, 178.) One is astonished, after
that, to find M. Mignet taunting Mary with having had " taken away
on the eve of the explosion the articles which she did not wish
destroyed" (I., 440). Science or conscience is at fault with the
Secretary of the Academy of Moral Sciences ! !
VOL. II, 2 D
2 10 DISSERTATION II.
Instead of accusing the Queen, John Hepburn went directly against
the views of his judges, when he said :
" Quhen yai war changing ye pulder furth of the tronks in polks, My Lord (Bothwell) come
and speirit, gyf all was redy, and bad yame haist before the Queene come furth of the Kingis
house, for gyf she come furth before yay ware reddy, yay wald not find sic commodity."—
Anderson, 11., 185.
Six years after, Ormiston, tried for Darnley's murder, confessed that
Bothwell had said to him to stifle his scruples :
" I sail let you see sumething that I had for me, wha then let me see ane contract subscryvit
be four or fyve hand writtis whilk he affirmed to me was the subscription of the Earl of Huntlie,
Argyle, secretar, and Sir J. Balfour."— PzVfrtzVw'j Crim. Trials, I., 511 ; Chalmers, II., 452;
Diurnal, 338.
La Mothe Fenelon completes the list by the name of Morton :
"Le comte de Morthon a naguyferes fait "The' Earl of Morton lately had executed
executer unhermestran (Ormiston) quia charg^ one Ormiston, who charged the Earl of
le Comte d'Honteley, Baffour, le feu Comte Huntly, Balfour, the late Earl of Argyll, and
d'Arguil, et le mesme Morton, d'estre copables this same Morton, with being guilty of the
de la mort du feu Roy d'Escosse." — Corresp. death of the late King of Scotland."
diplom., VI., 5.
Goodall thinks that Morton, who guided everything, may have had
his name struck out from the list of the guilty (I., 392). Be that as it
may, we learn from the historian, Carte, " that great care was taken to
smother this confession." — Carte, III., 531 ; quoted in Chalmers.
All the criminals, Paris himself, when at the point of death,
declared the Queen's innocence. The confessions were sure to have
had great weight, had they not been tampered with ; but the dread of
torture and the hope of life may drive unfortunate prisoners to swerve
from the truth. In presence of death, absence of mind is gone ; the
most timid, having nothing to risk or lose, raise the voice with un-
flinching courage. Those confessions made in a dungeon, or before a
bribed or lying tribunal, have been changed ; but the last words remain
to us, and they are enough.
"Quelques ungs (des principaux serviteurs " Some (of the principal servants of the
du Contede Baudouel) confesserent bien avoir Earl of Bothwell) confessed that they had well
merits la mort, declarant I'innocence de la deserved death, declaring the innocence of the
Royne, et accusent les plus grands et princi- Queen, and accusing the greatest and principal
paux de son conseil (Moray's) qui assistoient men among his council (Moray's) who then
lors avec luy, et mesmes le conte de Morthon, were present with him, and even the Earl of
et le Secretaire Ledington, et Balfour, cjui Morton, the secretary Lethington, Balfour,
cstoit Capitaine du Chasteau de Lislebourg, et who was Captain of the Castle of Edinburgh,
le dit Conte leur maistre (Bothwell) en Danne- and the said Earl, their master (Bothwell) in
mar."' — Archbishop of Glasgow to Card, de Denmark."
Lorraine, Stevenson, 306, 307.
DISSERTATION II. 211
" Fecero impiccare alcime povere persone, al "They had 5 or 6 wretches seized, who,
numero di 5 o 6, le quah, non obstante cosi notwithstanding all that those rascally im-
che questi scellerati impostori havessero fatto postors had done to subborn them, cleared, on
per subornarle, andando alia morte, scaricarono their way to death, the Queen, of that crime,
la Regina del sudetto peccato, et accusarono li and accused the accomplices of the Earl of
complici del detto conte di Murray, persever- Moray, and held to that statement until death,
ando in questo proposito sino alia morte, senza without ever varying or changing it in any
mai in modo alcuno mutarlo o variarlo, di che way. All the kingdom of Scotland is a witness
tutto il Regno di Scotia h testimonio ; cosa che to it, and that event has placed, beyond a
ha interamente posta la innocenza di sua doubt, the innocence of her Majesty."
Maestk fuor d'ogni dubio." — Successo della
Regina et Regno di Scotia, Prince Labanoff,
VII., 322.
Those two texts are taken from the correspondence of the period,
and are confirmed by most of the historians who hved at that time.
Several were witnesses of the facts which they state, and they appeal
to the whole Scottish nation to bear out the truth of their accounts.
A collective letter, signed by seventeen members of the Scottish nobility,
several of whom had had a hand in the various plots which preceded
and followed Darnley's murder, proves that :
" thame quha sufferit deid thairfor, declarit at all times, the Quene to be innocent thairof." —
Goodall, IL, 359.
" We can tel you, and so can five thousand and moe of their owne hearing, that John Hep-
borne, the Earle of Bothwel's seruant, being executed for his and yoor traiterous facte, did
openly say and testefie, as he should answere to the contrarie before God, that you were the
principal authors, counsailers and assisters, with his master, of this- execrable murther, and
that his said master so tolde him, and farthermore, that he himself had sene the Indentures we
spake of. We can tel you that John Haye of Gallovj'ay, that Powry, that Dowglish, and last of
al, that Paris, al being put to death for this crime, toke God to recorde, at the tyme of their
death, that this murther was by your counsayle, invention and drift committed, who also
declared that they neuer knew the Queene to be participant or ware thereof." — J. Lesley's
Defense, ^6, 77 ; Bishop Keith, ■^(fj.
" Paris, at the time of his said execution, tooke it vpon his death, as he should answere
before God, that he neuer caried any such letters, nor that the Queene was participant, nor of
counsayle in the cause." — Lesley's Defense, ig.
That writing, as well as Belleforest's {yebb, I.,) appeared at the
same time as the Detection, and the facts which they relate, were held
to be authentic and so well proved, that the authors take to witness on
the subject, the whole Scottish nation.
Blackwood (p. 615) and the author of the little book, " Maria
Stuarta innocens," affirm the same thing. The grave Camden brought
in these confessions in his history :
"Mox Moravius suppliciumsumit de Joanne "Soon Moray punished with death, John
Hepburno, Paride Gallo, Daglisho et aliis Hepburn, Paris, the Frenchman, Dalgleish,
Bothwellii famulis qui Regis ca2di intererant. and other servants of Bothwell, who had had
Sed illi, quod minimi expectavit, ad patibulum a hand in the murder of the King. But they,
212 DISSERTATION II.
coram Deo et angelis protestati sunt se ex against his expectation, protested on the
Bothwellio intellexisse Moravium et Morton- scaffold, before God and the angels, that
ium Regicidii authores fuisse, Reginam ab Moray and Morton were the authors of the
omni suspicione exemerunt." — I., ii8. King's death; they cleared the Queen of all
suspicion."
A short sarcastic rhyme, which greatly tickled the fancy of the
people, and roused the anger of Moray's partisans, makes mention of
the same facts :
"As Hepburn, Dagleish, Powry, too, John Hay made up the messe:
Which four, when they were put to death-, the treason did confesse :
And said that Murray, Morton, too, with others of their rowte.
Were guyltie of the murder vile, though now they loke full stoute.
Yet some perchance do think that I speake for affection here ;
Though I would 3000 can herein true witnes beare ;
Who present were, as well as I, at th' execution tyme.
And heard how these, in conscience prickt, confessed who did the cryme."
Tom trouth, Chalmers, III., 400.
Lastly, one of the accomplices, Archibald Douglas, wrote from
London in 1586, to Queen Mary :
" As to the abominable murder, it is known too by the depositions ot many persons that
were executed to the death for the commiting thereof, that the same was executed by them, and
at the command of such of the nobility, as had subscryvit band for that effect." — ^Robertson,
App.
Morton's nephew wrote those lines ; and far from accusing the
Queen, he sought only to clear himself in her eyes.
I III. — The atiihide assumed by the Earl of Lennox and his family.
It may be well to tell the natural bent of this Earl of Lennox who
did so much to harm Mary Stuart, after she became his daughter-in-
law. To avenge the slight which he felt on being refused the hand of
the Queen-dowager Regent of Scotland, Lennox embraced, heart and
soul, the English side, and headed a numerous army, with the view
of ruining his country, {State Papers of Scotland, Henry VIII.,
Agreement, 4th Sept. 1545), a portion of which he handed over to the
English, {Balfour, I., 281, 282). For that exploit, he was declared
a traitor to his country. {Sadler's Papers, I., 198; Lesley de Rebus
Scot., 470). In his expedition,
" he was forsaken by several Scots whom he had lorced to recognize the sovereignty of England
and give up to .him twelve children as hostages. On his return to Carlisle, the monster seized
the children and had eleven of them hanged. The twelfth had the rope round his neck when
the soldier who was to execute him became sickened, and would not go on {Miss Strickland
Herries, Tytler.) . . Having again invaded his country, he seemed to sack in preference the
castles where lived his father-in-law or those which had sheltered the childhood of his wife. He
felt all his life the gall and fury of unsatiated covetousness." — M. Wiesener, 68.
DISSERTATION II. 213
In the month of May 1551, this same Lennox again appears in the
attempted poisoning of the little Mary by Robert Stuart. (Teulet, I.,
260-270.)
Returning to Scotland during the reign of Mary Stuart, he came to
Holyrood, "where he was graciously received by the Queen's Majesty."
{Knox, Reform., V., 321.)
"And in a parliament called to that effect in January next, had the process of forfeiture laid
against him, whilst the duke was governor, reduced and so restored to his lands and possessions
after twenty-two years' exile." — Spottiswoode, II., 25.
The traitor becomes a conspirator. Instead of rightly guiding his
son, whom the good pleasure of the Queen had just raised to _the high-
est honour, he urges him on to demand the crown-matrimonial, and, in
short, plays so unworthy a part that his royal daughter-in-law, her
patience at an end, said in a moment of exasperation, that it would have
been better " that he had not set foot in Scotland for her days." {Miss
Strickland, II., 220.)
The following passage in a letter from Randolph to Leicester shows
how Lennox meant to act :
" I know that there are practices in hand, contrived between the father and son, to come
by the crown against her (Mary's) will. I know that if that take effect wich is intended, David,
with the consent of the King, shall have his throat cut." — Tytler, III., 215.
Two pages further on, the historian Tytler tells us that it was
Lennox himself who went to England to get Moray's signature.
" Having so far organised the conspiracie, it remained to communicate it to Moray, and for
this purpose, the King's father, the Earl of Lennox, repaired to England." — Tytler, III., 217.
But he who had been able to form a conspiracy against the Queen's
secretary, was unable to foresee or check the one which at the same time
was being formed against his son. Darnley is killed ; and what was
the attitude of the Earl of- Lennox ? It is crushing to his memory.
On the I ith of February, the very day after the murder, Mary, according
to Moray's own diary [Anderson, IL, 273), wrote to Lennox, promis-
ing him that justice should be done, and begging of him to come to the
Court, that they might consult together as to the means of finding out
the truth. Mary sent the letter to her father-in-law by an express
messenger. Lennox said "he would consider about it;" and after
having detained the messenger the whole night, he sent him away,
saying, "Her Majesty's letter requires no answer." {Miss Strickland,
III., 208.)
What had he to consider about ? While that unworthy father was
coolly considering, Mary was acting in earnest, and, as I have already
2 14 DISSERTATION II.
said, there may be seen in the Register House, Edinburgh [Hopetoun
MS., 239), the confessions of several persons examined on the nth
of February.
The attitude of Lennox was the same until the 20th. Ten days
had passed since the murder was committed, and the old considerer had
not yet given his opinion. He gave it at length on the 20th ; but he
asked that all the Nobles and States of Scotland should be called
together, not doubting that with the grace of God all-powerful, and the
help of the Holy Ghost, the murderers should be recognised. {Bishop
Keith, 369, 370.)
The proposal was absurd ; Mary, however, replied that she
thanked him, and that she had already convoked the Parliament.
" For the essemble of the Nobihtie and Estaits, quhilk ze advise ws to caus be convenit, for
a perfite triall to be had of the King our husbandis cruell slauchter, it is indeid convenient that
sua suld be ; and evin, shortlie before the recept of zour lettre, we had causit proclame a Parle-
ment, at the quhilk we doubt not bot thay all, for the maist part, sail be present." — Bishop
Keith, 370.
As his daughter-in-law had anticipated him, Lennox, on the 26th,
departed from the request he had made on the 20th. He thought that
too much time might pass before the meeting of Parliament, that it was
better to act quickly — to convoke the Nobles without delay, to imprison
those whom the placards denounced as guilty, and, by a proclamation,
to invite the authors of the placards to come forward, and if no one
came, to release those who had been arrested. (Houston, 26th
February. — Bishop Keith, 37 1>)
Mary in her reply told him that he was wrong as to her intentions ;
that she did not mean to put off the trial until the end of the session of
Parliament, but, that she, on the contrary, wished to act as soon as possible;
that she could not agree with him about calling the Nobles together at
once, as that would cause a double removal ; and, moreover, that the
trial was not properly an affair for Parliament. As to the arrest of those
whose names were placarded, she answered there were so many contra-
dictory placards that she knew not by which she ought to be guided ;
but that if among the names mentioned there were any which he,
Lennox, suspected particularly, she begged him to let her know them ;
assuring him that she would proceed against them, according to the
laws of the kingdom, and punish them severely if they were found
guilty. She desired him, in conclusion, to let her know his opinion,
adding that she had made up her mind to lose no time in looking into
the business. (Seton, ist March. — Bishop Keith, 371.)
DISSERTATION II. 215
Lennox is sixteen days without answering, and during that time he
is studying with Moray, Morton and their adherents, the means of
avenging his son's death {Miss Strickland, III., 212), or, to speak
plainly, he is making common cause with the assassins, to stir up
revolution in Scotland. At last, on the 1 7th of March, he writes again to
Mary Stuart. He begins by thanking her for the "gentle" letter she
has written to him in reference to the keeping of the county of Lennox,
then advises her anew to arrest all those mentioned in the placards, to
assemble the States, and summon, by a proclamation, the authors of the
placards to come forward — an impossible thing, by the way, seeing that
the placards were anonymous. He then quotes as assassins, persons
really guilty, and also some quite innocent : Bothwell, J. Balfour, David
Chalmers, John Spens, Francis Bastian, John of Bordeaux, and Joseph
Riccio, wondering that the Queen had not yet heard of them. {Bishop
Keith, 372.)
" It was not worth while," says M. Wiesener, " to take sixteen days to concoct an answer
of that kind." — M. Wiesener, 301.
Mary nevertheless was at the trouble to write him again that she
had anticipated his wishes, that the convocation of the nobles was fixed
for the following week, that the persons mentioned in his letter were to
be present, that they were to be tried according to the laws, and if found
guilty, punished with extreme rigour. She begged him to try and stay
in Edinburgh during the whole week, that he might take part in the
trial, and then added :
" Ze sail have experience of our ernest will and effectuus mynd to haue an end in this mater,
and the auctours of sa unworthie a deid realie punist." — Bishop Keith, 2>Ti-
Thus there is found in the Public Registers an Act of Council, dated
the 28th, fixing for the 12th of April the trial of Bothwell and the
persons implicated in the murder of the King. {Bishop Keith, ibid.)
Lennox ought to have been satisfied, or at least very glad, to see
the end so nigh. Not so. He begged Elizabeth to bring about an
adjournment, without saying a word about it to Mary ; and it was only
on the I ith of April, the day before the trial, that he wrote from Stirling
to the Queen. In that letter, written at the eleventh hour, he asks that
the trial, which he had hurried on by his wishes and acts, be put off; he
asks power to be given him to arrest the guilty himself, a thing which
was contrary to the Scottish laws, and which the nobles never would have
suffered ; he asks also power to remove from the Court the suspected
persons, to smooth the way for the revelations. On that occasion Mary
2i6 DISSERTATION II.
could not yield : any wavering on her part must have seemed a sign
of coldness and indifference ; moreover, she had against her a law in
use from time immemorial in Scotland which allowed only fifteen
days between the citation and trial. {Goodall, I., 346 ; Acta Parliam.,
III., 7 ; Mr Hosack, 284, and note ; Bishop Keith, 378, note.)
Having failed in that point, the ambitious Earl renewed his intrigues
with the assassins, and made it his business to embarrass his hapless
daughter-in-law. Mary's flight into England allowed him to talk and
go on in a way which, coward as he was, he never should have dared
to do had the Queen been still in Scotland.
On the I ith of June he writes to Moray that he should like all possible
means to be used to find out fresh things, not only against her, but also
against all those who followed her into England, and that a way should
be thought of to arrange the articles which he had sent to his servants ;
that inquiries should be made about the quarrel betwixt the Queen and
King before the baptism, how the King went to Glasgow, and as to
the nature and cause of his illness ; and that he should try and find out
if there had been any appearance of poison, and what physicians had
watched him. {Miss Strickland, III., 121.)
It is difficult to understand that letter and those recommendations,
for Lennox had beside him Crawford, whose prodigious memory in
reference to the first letter from Glasgow, we have boasted. The Earl's
search was, however, more fruitful than he expected. Instead of certain
particulars, he succeeded in finding four letters : two written to the
Queen, and two sent by her in reply. He showed them at the Confer-
ences with so much success, that they were entirely lost sight of, and
that it is not exactly known what they contained, except that they were
against the Queen. {Goodall, II., 209; Anderson, II., ii., 122; M.
Wiesener, 223.)
On the loth of July 1 5 70, Mary, sorry at being on such bad terms with
the family of Lennox, wrote to the Countess a letter, in which she pro-
tested her innocence, and begged her mother-in-law to think over her
decision, and give her back her love. " The Countess sent the letter to
her husband. The latter replied in July 1570, in a private letter to his
wife, that Mary Stuart was guilty, and that he was sure of it, not only
from his own knowledge, but from documents in her own handwriting,
from confessions of people led to death, and other infallible proof sT {M.
Mignet, I., 435-)
The reader now knows the value of those " documents in her own
handwriting " and the " confessions of the persons led to death." All
DISSERTATION II. 217
that is false, and serves only to set off, in more glaring colours, the base-
ness of the Earl's conduct. The Countess of Lennox was, from that day,
more distant to Mary Stuart than in the past ; and the Earl, entrusted
with the education of the little James VI., carried infamy so far as to
teach him and make him utter words insulting to the honour of his
mother. (M. Wiesener, 510.) That is what the Earl of Lennox was
until the end. It would be a degrading as well as an irksome labour to
point out, one by one, the calumnies which that man invented against
Mary Stuart, with the view of ruining her side and seizing a crown
which he had long coveted.
The misunderstanding with the Countess lasted, after the death of
Lennox, during the regencies of Mar and Morton. The glorious end of
Kirkaldy, the underhand-dealings of Morton, his letters to the Countess,
in which he threw the blame on all those who did not belong to his
own side, his endeavours to keep matters in the dark, and the conduct
observed towards Bothwell, raised doubts in the mind of Lady
Lennox. She wondered if there was not some mystery beneath ; and
looking back to the declarations made by Darnley's murderers, to the
touching letter which her daughter-in-law had written her, and seeing
her patience in her hard captivity, she allowed her hatred to give way,
and secretly set about finding out the truth.
What chiefly prompted her to do so ? History is silent on that
point ; yet we may believe that the marriage, so much dreaded by Mary,
{Corresp. diplom., VI., 293, 300) of Charles Stuart, younger brother of
the late King of Scotland, to Elizabeth Cavendish, step-daughter of
Lord Shrewsbury, Mary's keeper, while bringing the families together,
enabled them to study the facts more closely, and find out the truth.
Opinions are free on that subject. This much, however, is not to be
doubted : that the Countess, while in the Tower, through that marriage,
worked during the winter of 1574-75, in concert with Mary, to with-
draw the young Prince from the hands of Morton, and send him to the
Continent. {Prince Labanoff,\N ., 258.) She even busied the leisure
hours of her prison working for her daughter-in-law a small square of
embroidery, intertwining her white hairs with the linen threads : the
wish for revenge had been overcome by love. {Miss Strickland, V.,
231-)
On the 6th of November 1575, the old Countess wrote to Mary a
letter, marked with gentle confidence; she trembles, with Mary, about
the lot of little James VI., whom she calls "our sweet and peerless
jewel in Scotland," curses with her the " wicked governor" Morton; begs
VOL. II. 2 E
2i8 DISSERTATION II.
her to be without fear, to put her trust in God, and assures her that all
will yet go well, that " the treachery of her traitors is known better than
before," and is happy to call herself " her most humble and loving
mother and aunt." To finish the picture, Mary's sister-in-law, the wife
of Charles Stuart, writes to her in a postscript, that she thanks her for
having been good enough to think of her, that she prays God to send
her Majesty better days, that she should be happy to serve her, that
she loves and honours her sincerely, and that she is for life, her " most
humble and lowly servant." (Fac-Simile, Miss Strickland, V., 372.)
" In any other history, and for any other person," says the grave M. Wiesener, "we assert
that testimony so valuable as that of Lady Lennox, ought at once to be convincing. But when
Mary Stuart is concerned, crabbed prejudice can no longer acknowledge the truth." — 522.
Yet, when one ponders over the conduct of Lady Lennox, when
one sees that woman thirsting for the blood of Mary, stirring up Eng-
land and Scotland with her cries, swearing that " she shall never forget
the death of her child," and yet so thoroughly acknowledging the
truth that she is willing to make amends, at any price, for the ill she
has done her unfortunate daughter-in-law, one cannot waver, and one
must say : calumny has been found out ; truth has dawned ; Mary is
innocent.
IV. — SHE MARRIED THE MURDERER OF HER HUSBAND AFTER HAVING HIM ACQUITTED.
If Both well had not made himself famous by the double crime of
murder and rape, he should now, despite the high dignities he inherited
from his family, be forgotten, like so many other Scottish lords of that
period, whose names are known only to the learned. Until the murder,
Bothwell plays only a secondary part at court and in the country.
Now on bad terms, and again feasted, at Holyrood, his turn of mind did
not allow him to remain long in the same state.
In 1556, by the death of his brother, Patrick Bothwell, he finds
himself invested with the hereditary function of Lord High Admiral of
Scotland, and Sheriff of Edinburgh, Haddington and Berwick.
In 1558, he is appointed Heutenant of the Queen on the Border,
and keeper of Hermitage Castle, the State Arsenal in Liddesdale.
Pleased with his position, he lived quietly, when the dealings of the
bastard Moray, who was seeking to seize the throne [Goodall, I., 1 68-1 70),
forced him to go and ask help from France. (Chalmers, \\\., wo). He
seemed then the great mainstay of the throne of Scotland, Such
noble conduct was, unfortunately, not to last long : ambition and
jealousy soon made the Earl a conspirator.
DISSERTATION II. 219
In 1562, Bothwell wishes to ruin the Hamiltons ; spurned by
Moray, to whom he had hinted his plans, he at once goes to the
Hamiltons, and proposes to them to crush Moray, as a troublesome rival.
That wonderful piece of knavery is thus told by the abbreviator of
Lord Herries' Memoirs.
"The historic reports, that about this tyme, James Erie of Bothwell (a seditious man, and
one whoe resolved to mudd the waters) dealt seriouslie with the Earl of Murray, to ruin the
Duke and the whole name of Hammiltoune ; wherein, he offred his assistance. He laid many
reasons before Murray for this project to move him to give ear, and ever glanced at them in
there pretensions to the croune, and there power to cross him in his actions. But the Earle of
Murray, being a man of a deep reach in witt, neither lykt the project nor had great confidence
in Bothwell. He waved all his propositions, and refused to enter on any such actions. Wher-
upon, Bothwell turned himself to the other syd, and informed the Duke that the Earle of Murray
was onlie he that eclipsed the greatnes of his hous, that it was easie to cut him off, being now
with the Queen at Falkland ; which being done, the Queen might be seased upon, and then be
absolutlie in their power." — Herries' Memoirs, 61.
In 1565, he gives way to seditious words and acts towards the
Queen. On the 2d of May, accused of having wished to seize her royal
person, to take her prisoner to Dunbar, he is cited by her before the
courts of justice, and condemned in default. {Pitcairn, I., 46 1, sq.). The
words which he had uttered against his Sovereign and against the
Queen of England, were such as a woman forgets only with the greatest
difficulty ; he had mocked them, and made so free as to say that :
" Both Queens would not make one honest woman." — Randolph's Letters, isth, 30th, and
31st March, at the State Paper Office.
I do not need to refute that fresh calumny ; history is there to
protest and say that, at that period, Mary was more than half an honest
woman. Castelnau, who saw Mary Stuart in September 1564, says :
"Je trouuay ceste Princesse en la fleur de "I found that Princess in the flower of her
son 4ge, estimde at ador^e de ses sujets, et age, esteemed and adored by her subjects, and
recherchde de tons ses voisins ; en sorte qu'il sought after by all her neighbours ; so that
n'y auoit grande fortune et alliance qu'elle ne there was no great fortune and alliance that
pust esp^rer." — Mem. de Castelnau, Jebb^ II., she might not hope for."
460.
That same year, Darnley's marriage changed the situation. Moray,
disappointed in his fondest hopes, revolts. Bothwell is called back
from France to oppose him {Teulet, II., 248), and we find him great in
power at the end of October. (Randolph to Cecil, 31st October, State
Paper Office). His influence still lasts after the murder of Riccio.
{Spottiswoode, II., 39). Yet she, whom people delight in calling "the
blind Mary," was not so attached to Bothwell, that she did not prefer
her honour and her interest to her affections. At the time of the birth
of James VI.,
220 DISSERTATION II.
" the King, her husband, with the earls of Argile, Murreie, Atholl and Mar, remained with
her in the Castell, and the earl of Huntleie, Bothwell and the remnant of the Lords lodged in
the town." — Hollinshed, II., 328 ; Spottiswoode, II., 40.
On the occasion of the famous journey to Alloa, which Buchanan
describes as a prank of the Queen with Bothwell and his satellites,
Lethington and Mary again became friends, " albeit, Bothwell did
strongly oppose" (Spottiswoode, II., 39), and we learn from Hollinshed
that it was neither a prank nor sulkiness, but a pleasant visit to the
country after her confinement.
" In the beginning of August, she passed up the water of Forth to Allowaie, where she re-
mained certain daies, the Earls of Murrie and Mar being of companie with her, and there the
King, her husband, came to visit her. The same time, Monsieur Malvoisir came into Scotland
from the King of France, bringing letters to the Queen, who was conveied by the Bishop of Ross
to Allowaie, where he was joifullie received, courteouslie intertained, and highlie rewarded.
The Queen of England sent Mr Henrie Killegrew to the Queen with the like message, rejoicing
for her safe and happie deliverance, who was received in most thankfull maner, and well
rewarded." — Hollinshed, II., 328.
The same author continues :
" In the latter end of August, the Queen, accompanied with the King her husband, the earls
of Huntleie, Murreie, Bothwell and diverse other, went into Meggat-land there to pass the time
in hunting, where they remained certain daies."-^Ibid., 329.
During those excursions Bothwell must have noticed the hatred
borne him by the nobles ; he even received a public insult from Moray,
and his royal " mistress" did not speak a word in his defence. {Bishop
Keith, app., 169; Stevenson, 164; Miss Stickland, II., 362.) Yet if,
with Buchanan, M. Mignet is to be believed, Bothwell was then the
idol to which Mary sacrificed her honour and her people.
Such was Bothwell's life up to the death of Darnley. By turns
driven from the Court and recalled from exile, he had no friend. The
Queen had drawn him to her, and then cast him aside as was meet,
without seeming to attach herself to him. From what precedes, I con-
clude that historians have mis-stated facts, and mistaken the laws of
nature, when they wrote of the mad loves of the Queen and Bothwell.
Dargaud has written : "Her palled taste and her heated senses
required a new and criminal nature, a pirate — not poetry, but reality"
(169). That idea is false, because a sudden passion is absurd between
old acquaintances. No moralist can contradict that axiom. Then
again, Bothwell had nothing that could give rise to such a fire, for
according to Buchanan, he was a brute, physically and morally, (jfebb,
I., 255, 304.)
The murder is committed. Mary shuts herself up in a room of
mourning, but calumnies come to assail her. While she weeps for her
DISSERTATION II. 221
husband, the nobles, bent upon her complete ruin, noise abroad the
most odious slander.
" The brut began to ryse," says Melville, " that the Quen wald mary the Erie Bodowell."
— I7S-
The placards denounce Bothwell ; why did not the Queen have him
arrested at once ? That objection, which is thought of great value in
Paris in the nineteenth century, falls of itself, if one takes heed that in
feudal times kings were not always masters.
"To have imprisoned so powerful a subject as Bothwell, without a particle of evidence as yet
produced against him, would have been a stretch of authority which no Sovereign of Scotland
could have ventured to atttm.pt."— Hosack, 293.
On the 5th of March, public opinion, though directed against Both-
well, was not yet fixed.
"The common speech toucheth the Earles Bothwell and Huntly, who remain with the
Queen ; but how true the accusations are, I will not take upon me to affirm the one or the other ;
neither would I have you to utter any of these things, to make condemnation of any of them,
but as reports." Cecil to Norris. — Cabala, 137.
On the 8th of March, Moray invited Bothwell to dinner, to meet
Huntly, Argyll and Lethington. {Chalmers, I., 324.)
On the 1 6th of the same month, Bothwell was still thought, in Paris,
to be one of Mary's most faithful subjects, and it was said that the Earl
of Moray intended to put him to death, the more easily to overthrow
his Sovereign.
" Havendo la mira d'occupare il Regno, si " Having in view to occupy the throne, he
voglia servir di questa occasione per amazzar wished to make use of that opportunity to kill
il conte di Boduvel, homo valoroso, di molto the Earl of Bothwell, a man of great courage,
credito et confidentissimo alia Reina, con animo of much influence, and very much attached to
di poter poi piu facilmente insidiar alia vita di the Queen, in the hope of being able more
Sua Maestk." The Pope's Nuncio to Cosmo I. easily afterwards to lay snares for the Queen's
— Prince Labanoff,N\\., ioi>. life."
On the day fixed, Bothwell appeared before the Court, over which
presided the Earl of Argyll, having as assessors, Robert Pitcairn, com-
mendator of Dunfermline, Lord Lindsay, James Makgill, and H.
Balnaves. A peculiarity worthy of remark is, that it was the Queen's
advocates who made the charge, no other having come forward.
" The accusers were onlie the Queen's two Advocats, whoe durst not present any accusation
but that which was fraimed and given them." — Merries' Mem., 86.
Bothwell is acquitted ; and the remarkable thing is, that those who
acquitted him so generously, at a later period charged "and accused the
Queen of the murther of the King by means of the Earl of Bothwell."
{Bishop Keith, 375, note.)
222 DISSERTATION II.
From that time calumnies redouble.
" Two days after the trial, Mary gave a public proof of her regard for Bothwell, by appoint-
ing him to carry the sceptre before her at the meeting of Parliament." — Robertson's Dissert, on
King Henry's Murder, i8.
Before advancing that fact as an evident proof of Mary's favour
towards Bothwell, Robertson ought to have inquired if Bothwell had
not already carried the sceptre, and he would have found that, at the
session of March, 1566, two days before Riccio's murder — that is to say,
at a time when no one dreamt of Mary's tender feelings for Bothwell —
that Lord also carried the sceptre, in company with Gordon and Craw-
furd, one of whom carried the crown and the other the sword.
" George Lord Gordoun, eldest sone of vmquhile George erle of Huntlie, bure the croune,
James, erle of Bothwill, the ceptour, and David, erle of Crawfurd, the Sword of Honour." —
Diurnal, 89.
" In that parliament," again says Robertson, " she granted him a ratification of all the vast
possessions and honours which she had conferred upon him, in which was contained an ample
enumeration of all services he had "^zxiommdi," '^Dissertation, 19.
What are those vast possessions t Robertson does not say ; he
asserts generally, but does not specify. Only he puts in the margin :
"Anderson, I., 177," where is found a "Ratification in favorvs of the
Erie of Bothwell," and in that said ratification, instead of vast posses-
sions, there are only some lands which were given to him to make up
for his outlays in the keeping of Dunbar Castle.
"And that it was and is necessarelie requyrit that the samyn suld be weil entertenit, man-
tenit and furnishit, quhilk culd nocht be done without some yeirlie rent and profett wer gevin to
him to that effect, and als for reward of his said seruice." — Anderson, I., 117, 118.
On reading the eminent historian, we are led to believe that this
was an exception in favour of Bothwell. Anderson speaks of Bothwell
and Huntly only, but if reference be made to the text itself of that
Parliament, we find a number of acts signed in favour of the enemies,
as well as the friends, of the Queen. Alongside of Bothwell and
Huntly are found Angus, Moray, Mar and Lethington. {Acta
Parliam., II., Analysis in Bishop Keith, 379.)
As far as the honours are concerned, M. Mignet sums them up thus:
"Ellel'investitducommandementdu Chateau "She invested him with the command of
d'Edimbourg, que possedait le comte de Mar, Edinburgh Castle, which was held by the Earl
gouverneur du Prince royal. Elle lui donna of Mar, governor of the Prince Royal. She
de plus le Chateau de Blackness, I'lnch et la gave him besides Blackness Castle, Inch and
superiority de Leith."— I., 290. the Superiority of Leith."
It follows from the works which M. Mignet must have read, just as
I have, since he quotes them when they speak against the Queen, that
DISSERTATION 11. 223
the Castle of Edinburgh was not handed over to Bothwell, but to
Cockburn of StirHng, against the will of the townspeople. {Birrel, 7,
and Diurnal of Occur., 107, quoted above.)
As for Blackness, Inch and the Superiority of Leith, had M. Mignet
taken the trouble to read attentively the author whom he quotes with
so much show, he must have seen that Mary was perhaps yielding to
some foreign influence.
" Morton," says the historian Tytler, " after a secret and midnight interview with his royal
mistress, received the Castle of Tantallon and other lands which he had forfeited by his rebellion ;
and it was remarked that in return for this his whole power and interest were assured to Both-
well. The Castle of Blackness, Inch, and the Superiority of Leith were conferred on the same
favourite." — Tytler, III., 242.
Did not the two conspirators go hand in hand ?
The redeeming of the Superiority of Leith, despite what may be
said of it, is an affair which puzzles but little the defenders of Mary
Stuart, because, ist, she could effect it on the terms of the engagement
{Diurnal, 84) ; 2dly, she was forced to do so for her safety, as Bothwell
was Grand Admiral of Scotland ; 3dly, she granted it to Bothwell before
the placards accused him. {M. Wiesener, 300, note ; Chalmers, Disserta-
tion, III., 75 sq)
In support of their assertions, the Queen's enemies quote two secret
contracts of marriage made before the 5th of April betwixt Mary and
Bothwell. Unfortunately for them, that document also is apocryphal.
When one looks at all the documents brought forward in evidence
against Mary Stuart, one does not fail to be struck by their imposing
mass ; but when each is examined in detail, the building piled up by
hatred on rotten foundations is thrown down, bit by bit gives way, and
so comes to pieces that nothing can be saved.
Three contracts of marriage betwixt Mary and Bothwell are known
— fancy, only three ! — and what seems curious, is that not one of those
contracts alludes to the others ; whence I conclude a prioid that the
first two are false.
The first, written, according to Buchanan, before the death of Darnley,
contains these words :
" Nous, Marie, par la grice de Dieu, Royne " We, Mary, by the grace of God, Queen of
d'Escosse, douaryfere de France, etc., promet- Scots, Dowager of France, etc., promise faith-
tons fidMement et de bonne foy at sans con- fully and in good faith, and without constraint,
traynte k Jacques Hepburn, conte de Boduel, to James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, never to
de n'avoir jamays autre espoulx et mary que have any other spouse and husband than he
luy et de le prendre pour tel toute et quant fois and to take him for such at any time he may
qu'il m'en requ^rira, quoyque parents amys et ask me, though relatives, friends and others be
autres y soient contrayres. Et puisque Dieu contrary to it. And since God has taken my
2 24 DISSERTATION 11.
a pris mon feu mary, Henry Stuart, dit Darn- late husband, Henry Stuart, so called Darnley,"
ley,'' etc. etc.
No date and no place. (Signed) MARIE R.
That contract, autograph, according to Buchanan {jfebb, I., 321),
must be cast aside, because it is not in the Queen's spelHng, and
because it is not in her writing. The word "douariere" (modern Enghsh,
"dowager;" Enghsh of the sixteenth century, "dowarier," "dowarrier,"
"dowariar,") {Labanoff, passim) shows the hand of the forger, for Mary
always writes in French "douairiere" {Labanoff, passim, especially I.,
392, II., 86, 136, and IV., 181). Neither did Mary ever write " Boduel ;"
we find " Bothwell" or " Botwell," once " Boithvile " {Labanoff, II., 24),
" Bothvile " (46). The same remark applies to " espoulx " and to " toute
et quant fois." The latter expression is found only once that I am aware
of in Mary's correspondence, and it is written thus : " Toutes et quantes
fois." {Prince Labanoff, V., 395.) That quant, profiounced English
fashion, tells of an origin that does not belong to the Court of the
Valois.
The expressions, " Quoyque parents, amys ou autres y soient con-
trayres," breathe a dishonest passion that Mary would never have put
into a contract, or they are out of place. The thing smacks of the
Detection.
Lastly, the sentence, " Puisque Dieu a pris mon feu mary Henry
Stuart, dit Darnley," clearly shows that the contract was written after
the death of Darnley.
The pretended autograph contract is written in " a kind of what they
call in England Chancery hand," a kind of writing which never was
Mary's ; and in the signature the letter " M " is twice as high as the
others, while in authentic signatures all the letters are of the same
dimension. {Goodall, I., 126; M. Wiesener, 334.)
Then, seeing that nothing proves the authenticity of the contract,
that several of its details are contrary to it, that it bears neither date nor
place, and that the writing, style, spelling and signature are not Mary
Stuart's, the document must be thrown aside.
Neither can the second contract bear inspection. It is dated the
5th of April, and Mary was then in deep mourning, after spending the
night of Good Friday in wakefulness. It is dated Seton, where Mary,
according to Moray's Diary, was amusing herself and " in all solace," and
where she was to stay till the joth. {Anderson, II., 274.) That is an
error, as Mary during that time is in Edinburgh, weeping for her husband ;
she is there on the 23d {Birrel, 7); she is found there still on the 28th
DISSERTATION II. 225
{Bishop Keith, 374 ; Miss Strickland, III., 229); and she is lost sight of
until the 7th of April, when she gives Moray a passport. Di^lrnal,
107. It is possible that Mary went to spend Easter week at Seton, and
that she stayed there until Quasimodo Sunday. A quotation from the
extracts of the Privy Council, if it is exact, gives us Mary at Seton on
the 5 th of April. {Bishop Keith, 374.)
Admitting, what seems to me likely, although historians have main-
tained the contrary {Miss Strickland, III., 229), that Mary was at Seton
on the 5th, the difficulty as to time is only half removed. Is it morally
possible that Mary, taken up with her mourning, and Bothwell with his
trial, should have thought of concluding a contract at Seton on the 5th of
April ? Those who, despite facts and dates, believe Buchanan's account
of the rejoicings at Seton, will answer in the affirmative ; others perhaps
will keep silent. But here is the best. In the middle of the text we
find this fact, which entirely contradicts the date :
"Etpromet Sa Haultesseque, incontinant le "And promittis and oblisis hir Heichnes,
proc&s de diverse, intentd entre ledict Jacques that how sone ye proces of Diuorce, intentit
comte de Bothwel et dame Jeanne Gordon, k betwix ye said Erie Bothwell and dame Jane
present sa pretendue espouse, sera finy par Gordoun now his pretensit spous, beis endit
I'ordre de justice, Sadicte Majesty, moyennant be ye ordour of ye lawis, hir Majestie sail, God
la grace de Dieu, soudain espousera et promet willing, thairefter schortly mary and tak the
prendre ledict Jacques Comte de Bothwel pour said Erie to hir husband." — Detection, 94.
mary." — Teulet, 109.
I have proved, in regard to the Stirling letters, that the action in
divorce was brought forward only on the 27th in the religious court,
and on the 29th in the civil court. Thence I conclude that the second
contract is also apocryphal.
Buchanan, a man of good faith, no doubt, wishing to enlighten his
readers as to the value of that document, says with noble simplicity :
"Et appert par les mots du contract mesmes, " Alswa it appeiris be the wordis of the con-
qu'il fut arrest^, deuant que la sentence de di- tract itself that it was maid befoir sentence of
vorce fut donnde entre Bothwell et sa premi&re diuorce betwix Bothwell and his former wyfe,
femme. Et de fait pour certain, 11 fut conclud and alswa in verray treuth was maid befoir
deuant qu'vne poursuitte de diuorce eust est^ ony sute of Diuorce intentit or begune betwene
intentde ni commenc^e ; combien qu'en quel- him and his former wyfe, thocht sum wordis in
ques autres mots d'iceluy contract, il semble this contract seme to say utherwyse." — Detec-
estre autrement specific." — Jebb, I., 323. Hon, 96.
What a love for truth ! Lest the reader may not notice the contra-
diction, the author takes care to point it out to him, and seems to say
to him : You see I have no interest in putting this document in my
work, seeing that there is a gross anomaly ; yet I have been forced to
insert it, because it proves a good deal against Mary, and because it is
VOL. II. 2 K
226 DISSERTATION II.
authentic. That is what one calls a hoax, and the quill-drivers who are
not accustomed to good manners, but who have rather the disagreeable
habit of calling things by their own name, say that reflections of that
stamp are made intentionally. Honest people have difficulty in
believing such assertions.
But there is really a fatality in this world, and it is in vain for
people to be well-meaning ; what one undertakes to save on one side
is often hopelessly destroyed on the other. Such is the history of
the good Mr Buchanan. A dauntless searcher, so much the more
importunate for his enemies, as he stops before no difficulty, has
sought, and has succeeded in finding, the original text of the famous
contract, and, despite the well-known sentiment of the estimable author
of the Detection, pronounces himself against the contract of the 5th
of April, and says, with most undue severity, that it is " clearly
falsified." He describes it as follows-:
" It is in a lawyer's handwriting, and has attached to it a subscription resembling Mary's.
There is a considerable blank between the writing and the signature, giving the impression that
either the signature was there before the writing was inserted, or a blank left as for a testing
clause in the Scotch form. There are no witnesses to it, and therefore the testing clause could
not be filled up. On careful comparison with her ordinary subscription, the name looks much
liker an imitation than a genuine signature." — M'Neel-Caird, 166, note.
Bothwell had for witnesses the assassin Huntly and his very respect-
able priest, Thomas Hepburn ; the one received lands, the other was
shortly after admitted to the Privy Council. People wonder if that was
not done as a small reward for their good conduct. {M'Neel-Caird, 167.)
Lastly, on the 14th of May, the day before the marriage, there is
made, before numerous witnesses, a third contract, which everybody
acknowledges as authentic. In it there is no mention of the two
others — there is complete silence ; and if any conclusion can be
formed from that, it is that nothing of the kind had previously been
drawn out. {Prince Labanoff, H., 23 sq.)
People may ask : Why false contracts ?
" Obviously," replies a historian, "to make it appear that she agreed to marry Bothwell
before he carried her off, and that, instead of her being intimidated or influenced by the bond of
Morton and his confederates to Bothwell for the marriage, they might be able to pretend that
they were led to sign that bond by the knowledge that she had previously signed a contract of
marriage." — M'Neel-Caird, 167.
I am quite of that opinion. But to proceed.
On the 19th of April, Bothwell invites the nobles to a gala, prepared
at one Ainslie's. He tells them that the Queen has resolved to marry
him, and that she asks for their approval ; thereupon he hands them
DISSERTATION II. 227
a bond for signature. It was in two parts. In the first, the nobles
again cleared Bothwell, and said :
" Oblies us, and ilk ane of us, upon our faith and honors and treuth in our bodies, as we are
nobillmen and will answer to God, that in caice heireftir anie maner of person or persones, in
quhatsumevir manner sail happin to insist farder to the sklander and calumniatioun of the said
Erie of Bothwell, as participant, airt and pairt of the said hyneous murthor, quhairof ordinarie
justice hes acquite him, and for the quhilk he hes offerit to do his devoire be the law of armes,
in manner above reherst ; wee, and everie ane of us, be our selfes, our kyn, friendis, assistaris,
partakeris, and all that will doe for us sail tak trew, effauld, plane and upricht pairt with him to
the defence and mantenance of his quarrell, with our bodies, heretage and guids, agains his
privie or publick calumnyatories, bypast or to cum, or onie utheris presumeand onie thing, in
word or deid to his reproach, dishonour or infamie." — Anderson, II., ii., 109; Bishop Keith, 381.
In the second part, they favoured Bothwell's marriage with all their
influence :
" But in caice onie wald presume directlie or indirectlie, opinlie, or under quhatsumevir
colour or pretence, to hinder, hald back, or disturb the same mariage, wee sail in that behalfe,
esteime, hald and repute the hinderaris, adverseries or disturbaries thairof, as our comoune
enimyis and evill willeris ; and notwithstanding the samyne, tak pairt and fortifie the said Erie
to the said mariage, so farr as it may pleise our said Soverane lady to allow ; and thairin sail
spend and bestow our lyves and guidis againes all that leive or die may, as we sail anser to
God, and upon our awin fidelities and conscience ; and in caice we doe in the contrare, nevir to
have reputatioun, or credite in na tyme heireftir, but to be accounted unworthie and faithles
traytors." — Anderson, II., ii., no, in.
That bond is signed by twenty of the principal nobles, and with
thoughtlessness really inconceivable, John Read, Buchanan's secretary,
writes at the top the name of Moray, who had been in France from the
9th of April. That extraordinary stupidity points out to the reader
who was the true leader of those conspiracies.
Moray (who was not at the supper), Morton and the Protestant
Bishop of the Orkneys, Pitcairn of Dunfermline and Lindsay of Byres,
pretended that the Queen sent her consent in writing. {Goodall, II.,
140.) They added also that they had signed the bond "more for fear
than otherwayes." {Id. Ibid., 141 ; Anderson, IV., ii., 60.)
" The next day," says Lord Herries, one of the signers, " this paper was shewen to the
Queen, and she was desyred to ratifie and consent to that which the Lords had thought fittest
for the well of the kingdome, and if she refused, they said, they wold leave her to herselfe. In
end, they made the Queen subscryve to a ratification, in a paper by itself wherin was expressed,
that what they had done was by her speciall order and command." — Herries' Mein., 88.
That detail of Lord Herries sheds great light on the double-deal-
ing of those who were at the head of the manoeuvres, while it explains
the paper "signed with the Queen's hand" presented by Moray at York.
Despite those alleged sentiments of Mary, the nobles, seeing the dislike
with which she accepted Bothwell, exacted, on the eve of the marriage,
a regular pardon for the signers of the Ainslie bond. Here it is, from
Anderson :
228 DISSERTATION II.
" The Queenes Majestie haveing sene and considderit the band above writtine, promittis in
the word of a princesse, that she, nor her successoris sail nevir impute as cryme or offence to
onie of the personis subscryveris thairof, thaire consent and subscriptioun to the matter above
writtin, thairin contenit ; nor that thai, nor thair heires sail nevir be callit nor accusit thairfoir,
nor zit sail the said consent or subscryving be onie derogatioun, or spott to thair honor, or thai
esteemit undewtifull subjectis for doing thairof, notwithstanding quhatsumevir thing can tend or
be allegeit in the contrare. In witnes quhairof, her Majestie hes subscryveit the samyne with
her awin hand."
In the only authentic contract of marriage, made in presence of a
great number of lords, almost all of whom were signers of the Ainslie
bond, we find this remarkable passage :
" And now hir Majestie being destitute of an husband, levand solitary in the state of wedo-
heid, and zit zoung and of flurishing aige, apt and able to procreate and bring forth ma children,
hes bene preissit and humbly requirit to zeild unto sum mariage. Quhilk petitioun hir grace
weying, and taking in good part, bot cheiflie regarding the preservatioun and continewance of
hir posteritie, hes condescendit thairto, and mature deliberatioun being had towert the person-
aige of him with quhome hier Hienes suld joyne in mariage, the maist part of hir Nobilitie, be
way of advise, hes humbly, prayit hir Majestie, and thocht bettir that she suld sa far humble her-
self, as to accept ane of hir awin borne subjectis on that state and place, that wer accustomat
with the maneris, lawis and consuetude of this countr^, rather nor ony foreine prince. And hir
Majestie preferrand thair advyse and prayers, with the weilfair of hir realme, to the avancement
and promotioun, quhilk hir Hienes in particular mycht have be foreyne mariage, hes in that
poynt, likewise inclynit to the sute of hir said nobilitie. And thay namand the said noble Prince,
now Duke of Orknay, for the special personaige, hir Majestie well avysit, hes allowit thair
motioun and nominatioun, and graciouslie accordit thair unto Hir Majestie wil be con-
tent to ressave and tak to hir husband the said noble prince for satisfactioun of the hartis of hir
Nobilitie and people." — Prince Labanoff, II., 25, 26.
From that, we see that Moray reversed the parts ; instead of the
nobles being obliged to sign, they forced the Queen to do so.
Though they have done all they could to hide the truth, it is still
easy to follow the trace of their conspiracies, despite the three centuries
which separate us from them.
As early as the month of March, the nobles conspire so openly
against Mary Stuart, that the ambassador of Spain thought it his duty
to warn her of it. — Stevenson, 175.
At the end of April, the nobles go on with their dealings, and Both-
well's friends band together to seize the Queen and take her to Dunbar.
{Anonymous Letter, end of April, State Papets, Scotland\.
Camden who was the friend of Burghley, and consequently must
have known all about the facts, expresses himself thus in reference to
the doings of the nobility :
"Simul ac in aulam redierat, et ille " On Moray's arrival at court, both he and the
(Moravius) et conjurati Bothwellium ex familis conspirators recommended to the Queen, Both-
splendore, opera contra Anglos fortiter navata, well, for a husband, as he was the most worthy
fide spectata, ut ejus amore dignissimum, in of her, on account of the rank of his family
maritum commendarunt. Suggesserunt, illam his bold struggles against the English and his
DISSERTATION II. 229
solam et solitariam non posse tumultus tried fidelity. Theyhinted to her that, alone and
excitatos compescere, insidias antevenire, mo- solitary, she was not able to stifle the troubles
emque regni sustinere ; in societatem igitur which were rife, to guard against snares, or bear
lecti, periculi, et consilii ilium adsumeret, qui the weight of government ; that she ought to
possit, velit, et audeat se opponere. Eoque take as bedfellow, defender and adviser, a man
adegerunt ut mulier trepida, duabus tam whocould,waswilling,andwould dare to oppose
tragicis csedibus perculsa, et Bothwellii erga her enemies. Thus they forced a poor woman,
se et matrem suam fidei et constancise memor, still suffering from the blow of two most tragic
quae quo confugeret quam ad fratris fidem non murders, and who thought she had no better
habuit, assensum praebuerit." — Camden,!., 11 1. counsellor than her brother, to give her con-
sent to Bothwell, on account of his constancy
and fidelity to her mother and to her.''
Godfrey Goodman, Bishop of Gloucester, also says :
" By the Nobility of the Kingdom, Earl Bothwell was acquitted of the murder, and recom-
mended to her for husband." — I., 77.
Blackwood, who is, after Lesley, according to Robertson, the one of
Mary's defenders who searched most carefully into the matter, says that
Mary's commissioners at Westminster,
" produirent des lettres de Mourray et de quel- " produced letters from Moray and some others
ques autres de ses complices, par lesquelles of his accomplices, by which they not only
non seulement ils luy {k Marie) conseilloient advised her (Mary) to take the Earl of Both-
de prendre le comte de Bodwel pour Mary, well for husband, but also threatened her with
mais aussi la menagoient de plusieurs grands much unpleasantness if she refused him."
inconueniens, si elle le refusoit." — Blackwood,
611.
Those various particulars of Camden and Blackwood, are strongly
confirmed by Sanderson, from the letter of the nobles, which he saw
himself in London. According to that historian, the nobles said to the
Queen, that if she refused the marriage,
" they would purchase their own security, by any other waies, how prejudicial soever to her
safety, which at last, she was forced to consent unto. And this Relation was confirmed under
the hands of the Earls of Huntley and Arguile, and sent to Q. Elizabeth as an undeniable truth,
dated December, 1567, which I have seen." — Sanderson, 49.
It was well known in Edinburgh that the Queen yielded to the pres-
sure of the nobility, and the minister, Craig, called upon to defend him-
self in a general assembly, did not hesitate to say :
" And seing the best part of the Realme did approve it, ather be flatterie or be thair silence,
&c." — Anderson, III., 280.
If the Scottish nobles disgraced themselves by consenting to that
infamous traffic, it is just, nevertheless, to throw the greater part of the
shame on Moray, who was its instigator. Nor do historians hesitate to
brand his name. Chalmers (III., 119, 403), has raked up at length
the history of his conspiracies ; the Spanish historian, Herrera, who
could draw from the best sources, calls him a man fit for anything,
230 DISSERTATION II.
{insolente y atrevido, p. 38). Camden says he was of unruly ambition,
and that Hke Knox, his master, he looked upon the government of
women as monstrous (p. 107) ; ambition drives him to revolt in 1565,
ambition makes him successively wish and plot the deaths of the Queen
and King. (Tytler, III., 204 ; Blackwood, 571, 583). Even his friends
forsake him ; Huntly, Argyll and Herries fall off first ; Athol, Hume,
&c., follow them. {Idem., 578, 583). Throckmorton, indignant at
his conduct towards the Queen, and at the manner in which he received
the most temperate advice, asks his leave. (^Bishop Keith, 457)- The
later historians look upon him as an ambitious man, far from nice in
choosing the means to reach his ends. Gilbert Stuart says :
" Power was the idol which he worshipped ; and he was ready to acquire it by methods the
most criminal." — History of Reform., 185.
Tytler passes a similar judgment upon him (III., 282), and says :
" He consented to the murder of Riccio ; to compass his own return to power, he unscrupu-
lously leagued himself with men whom he knew to be the murderers of the King ; used their
evidence to convict his Sovereign, and refused to turn against them till they began to threaten his
power, and declined to act as the tools of his ambition." — 111., 321.
He behaved towards the refractory nobles with so much harshness
and severity, that his upholders, Melville and Buchanan, own it.
{Bishop Keith, 469).
History, besides, reproaches him with having basely sold Norfolk
and Northumberland.
Mary, quite unaware of what was going on, leaves Stirling on the 24th
of April. On that day, early in the morning, Bothwell went to Huntly,
" with whom he did secretly break of his determination of the having the Queen at Dunbar,
which, in no respect, Huntly would yield unto." — Border Corresp., Miss Strickland, III., 271.
Then, the traitor takes with him a large number of armed men, and
seizes the Queen quite close to the gates of Edinburgh. The place
proves that Mary was not a consenting party. Several authors mention
Almond Bridge, near to Linlithgow, but that is wrong, as we learn from
an act of the Parliament, at which were present Lethington and Huntly,
who were taken with the Queen. They must have known better than
any one else where they were arrested.
"In via sua inter Linlithgow et oppidum "(Bothwell) having attacked her with a
Edinburgi prope pontes vulgo vocatos Foul- thousand armed horremen on her way from
briggis eam adoriendo cum mille equitibus Linlithgow to Edinburgh Castle, near the
armatis." — Acta Parliam , III., 6. bridges vulgarly called Foulbriggis.''
The Queen's arrest gives rise to the following reflections :
DISSERTATION II. 231
If Mary knew Bothwell to be guilty, she never would have thought
of marrying him, as she could gratify her passions otherwise.
If she knew him to be guiltless, she would never have had herself
carried off, for the abduction was a useless and hurtful scandal.
Knox says of the carrying off :
"As it had been by force, although every one knew it was with the Queen's Hking." — Hist.
of Reform, V., 353.
To all outward appearances, therefore, Bothwell's doing assumed
the character of violence ; that is what I am anxious to state. As
regards the Queen's liking, if it was real, why does Knox write, ten
lines before, that Bothwell forced the nobles to give their consent in
writing to the marriage ? She could marry whom she chose, and needed
the consent of the nobles only to bestow the crown-matrimonial.
But a letter from Robert Melville to Cecil himself removes all
doubts which might arise as to the intentions of Mary, and shows that
she was a victim of the most odious violence :
"And, is I haif lernit, the said Lordis will innowis think the Quenes Majestie at lybertie so
long is sche beis in the said erls cumpane albeit he maye persuad Her Majestie to saye wther-
wise. The treughe is, quhane sche wes first karyit to Dunbarre be him, the erle of Huntlie and
my Lord of Ledingtoun were takkin as prysoneirs, and me broder James with dyvers other
domestik servands ; and Her Majestie commandit sum of her cumpane to pas to Edinbroughe
and charge the towne to be in armour for her reskew. Quhilk theye incontinent obeyit and past
withoute there portis apone fut, bot culd not helpe.'' Robert Melville to Cecil, 7th May 1567. —
State Paper Office.
On his arrival at Dunbar,
"the Erie Bodowell hoisted to mary the Quen, wha wald or wha wald not; yea whither sche
wald hir self or not." — Melville's Memoirs, 177.
Bothwell kept her away from her friends, and shut up Lethington
and Huntly :
" Adspatium decern dierum aut eocirca, detin- " He detained them for a space of about ten
endo eos, assentire cogendo, saltem dicere quod days, forcing them to consent, or at least to
assentiebant, ad promovendum omnia sua pro- say that they did consent, with the view to
ditoriaet nephariafacinera,precipuematrimon- accomplish his treason and his crimes, and
ium pretensum." — Acta Parliam., III., 8. especially the marriage he was bent upon."
At the moment when the victim, forsaken by nobles who betrayed
her, groaned in her captivity, Bothwell showed her the Ainslie bond,
and asked her to comply with it ; the Queen would not, and the Earl
acted with the greatest violence towards her. {Melville, 177; Bishop
Keith, 418.) Such outrageous conduct is not astonishing in a man so
passionate, that in conversation with the Queen's ladies he used lan-
guage so filthy that he (Melville) left him. {Melville, 178.)
2 32 DISSERTATION II.
"Ond'ella per fugire I'indegnith. che di tal " So to avoid the shame which might result
fatto potea succedere e prevenire i scandah et from such an act (the rape), to prevent scandal,
appogiarsi a persona del Regno e di valore, lo and to associate to herself a person of the king-
spos6." Arch, du Capitol. — Papicrs de Sixte dom gifted with great courage, she married
v., 16, author's own copy. him."
On the 6th, Mary was brought back to Edinburgh in a sad plight,
and the people could not help noticing that she returned rather as a
captive than a Queen.
"The said erl Bothwill leidand the Quenis Majestie by the bridill, as captyve." —
Diurnal, iii.
On the 1 2th, Mary forgave Bothwell for the violence he used, "for
the taking and imprisoning of hir," and she did so in full Parliament,
before the most of the signers of the Ainslie bond. {Anderson, I., 87.)
About the same time, no doubt mistrusting her beloved Bothwell,
she sends word to the Earl of Mar at Stirling, that he is on no account
to place the young Prince in other hands than hers. {Miss Strickland,
III., 295-)
On the 14th, she forgives the nobles for leaving her at Bothwell's
mercy ; and on the same day she gets put into the contract this
clause, that she marries Lord Bothwell at the request of her nobles.
{Anderson, I., iii; Prince Labanoff, II., 25 sq.) In that same con-
tract there is a clause which completely upsets the fable of the loves of
Glasgow and Stirling :
" Likeas it is alsua agreit and accordit be the said noble Prince and Duke, that na signa-
tours, lettres or writtings, other of giftis, dispositionis, graces, privilegis or uther sic thingis
concerning the affaires of the Realme sal be subscrivit be him onlie, and without hir Majesties
avise and subscriptioun ; and gif ony sic thing happin, the samyn to be of nane avale." — Prince
Labanoff, II., 29.
To Bothwell she never gave the title of King, which she had given
to Darnley. {Prince Labanoff, II., 25, 26, 46, 48 ; M'Neel-Caird, 166.)
It seems strange that she should act so to a man to whom she is
said to have written :
" Pour vous complaire, je n'espargne ny mon "To obey zow, my deir lufe, I spair nauther
honneur, ny ma conscience, ny les dangers, ny honour, counscience, hazarde, nor greitnes
mesmes ma grandeur, quelle qu'elle puisse quhatsumevir."
estre."- — First letter frojn Glasgow, 33.
And again :
"Entre ses mains, et en son plain pouvoir, " In his handis and in his full power
Je metz mon filz, mon honneur et ma vie, I put my sone, my honour, and my lyfe,
Mon pais, mes subjectz; mon ame assubjettie My countrie, my subjectis, my saule all sub-
Est toute k luy," etc. — Sonnets, II. dewit
To him,'' etc.
DISSERTATION II. 233
It has been said of Alcibiades that he was so great a man that he
united in his person the opposite virtues and vices. There is no need
for Paris to envy Athens, for the genius of M. Mignet is not inferior to
the soul of Alcibiades, since it can admit at the same time two con-
tradictory things — the contract of the 14th of May and the letters to
Bothwell. That man is the marvel of our age as Alcibiades was of his.
The marriage-day came, and she who had refused the hand of the
King of Navarre, because he had divorced his wife {J ebb, II., 486),
married Bothwell, who had done the same ; she who had always protested,
and who protested till the last, to live and die a Catholic, wedded Both-
well, the Protestant, the "stoutest" according to Randolph {Robertson,
II., 354), and was married in accordance with the Protestant rite. The
author of the Diurnal remarks that on that occasion there was " nathir
plesour nor pastyme" (i 12). I should say so ! Mary was sinking under
the weight of shame ; and the Earl of Huntly, former brother-in-
law of Bothwell, who, instead of hiding the disgrace of his sister's
divorce, seemed happy to have accomplished it, was present at the
ceremony, as if to affront the Queen's grief
On the very day of the marriage Mary was extremely sad.
" Jeudi (15 Mai)," writes the English ambas- "On Thursday (iSth May) her Majesty sent
sador, " Sa Majestd m'envoya querir oil je for me, and I noticed a strange manner betwixt
m'apperceus d'une estrange fagon entre elle et her and her husband, which she wished to ex-
son mary ; ce qu'elle voullut excuser disant que cuse, saying that if I saw her sad, it was because
si je la voyois triste, c'estoit parce qu'elle ne she did not wish to rejoice, and never would,
vouUoit se rejouyr, comme elle dit ne le faire desiring only death. Yesterday (17th May))
jamais, ne d^sirant que la mort. Hier (17 Mai) being both in a closet with the Earl of Both-
estant renfermez tous deux dedans un cabinet well, she cried aloud for a knife to kill herself.
avec le Comte de Bodwell, elle cria tout hault Those who were in the room heard her ; they
que on luy baillast un couteau pour se tuer. think that if God does not come to her help,
Ceulx qui estoient dedans la chambre I'enten- she may become desperate.''
dirent; ils pensent que si Dieu ne luy aide
qu'elle se desesperera." Du Croc to Catherine
de Mddicis, i8th May. — Prince Labanoff,N\\.,
III.
The love sickness must have soon been got over, for on the day of
her marriage, the Queen is sad, and two days after, she asks for a knife
to kill herself
Melville writes :
" the Quen was sa disdanfully handlit, and with sic reprochefuU langage, that Arthour Askin
and I being present, hard her ask a knyf to stick hirself ' or elis,' said sche, ' I sail drown
my self.'" — 180.
And a little further on :
" He was sa beastly and suspitious, that he sufferit hir not to pass ouer a day in patience,
or making hir cause to sched aboundance of salt teares." — 182.
vol.. U. 2 G
234 DISSERTATION II.
On the 17th of June the ambassador du Croc changed his feelings
for Mary Stuart, and while pitying her, wrote to France this sentence,
so often repeated by the Queen's enemies :
" Les malheureux faits sont trop prouv^s !" " The unfortunate facts are too well proven !"
That final judgment of a man, whom no interest forced to misrepre-
sent the truth, would certainly have been of great value in itself, had
not Mary Stuart's enemies forgotten, or neglected to say, that the
ambassador had on the previous evening conversed for three hours
with Lethington, one of Darnley's murderers ; that circumstance singu-
larly lessens, if it does not quite destroy, the importance which might be
attached to it {Teulet, II., 310, 312); and lest the truth might ooze
out, the ambassador was, on two different occasions, refused leave to
see Mary Stuart {Princ-e Labanoff, VII., 123^; Teulet, II. 319, 325).
Later, having become aware of the bonds of Craigmillar and Ainslie,
he used a different language, and from that time spoke only in praise
of the unfortunate Princess {Prince Labanoff, VII., 125, sq.)
We have yet to see what the cotemporary documents say about
that marriage. Mary, in her instructions to the Bishop of Dunblane
{PiHnce Labanoff, II., 32-34, and in her note to the Christian Princes
{Prince Labanoff, VII., 315, sq}) relates the facts, as we have given them,
with an air of truth that leaves no doubt in the mind of the reader ;
but as the words of the victim might seem interested, and therefore of
no value, I am about to strengthen them with neutral or hostile texts.
On the 1 2th of June 1567, the Lords of the Privy Council issued
a proclamation in which they say :
" James Erie Bothuele put violent handes in our Soveraine Ladies maist nobill persoune,
and thairafter wardit hir Hienes in the Castell of Dunbar, quhilk he had in keiping, and be a
lang space thairaftir conuoyit her Majestie, invironit with men of weir and sic friendis and
kisman of his as wald do for him, evir in sic places quhair he had maist dominioun and power,
hir grace being destitute of all counsale and serwandis, into the quhilk tyme the said Erie
seducit, be unleisume waies, our said Soverane to ane unhonest Mariage with himself." —
Anderson, I., 131 ; Spottiswoode, II., 57.
The bond of Association of the i6th of June exposes the same facts
in terms nearly identical {Anderson, I., 134).
The one drawn out by Sir James Balfour and other nobles contains
expressions that I am glad to record :
" During the quhilk space that the said erll haid hir mast noble persoun in thraldome
aboue specifyit, hir Majestie being onlie accumpanyit with a few number of hir domestick
servandis, he ceasit not be all wayes and unleissum meanis to seduce hir Grace to ane unlefuU
and unhonest marriage ; quhilk from the begynning is null and na effect for sik causes as
ar notourlie alswell knawin to other realmes as to ws. The nobilite and inhabitantes of this
our native cuntre in lykwyes being informit that the said erll as yet remaines in his mast
DISSERTATION II. 235
wickit intentioun and fei'm purpos to kepe our soverannis persoun in the thraldom and sub-
iectioun forsaid, invyronit with men of weir and his frendis, sway that nane of the Nobilite of
hir Grace realm may resort to hir presens to knaw hir mynd, without thair mast extreme and
utter danger/' etc. — Morton's Papers^ No. 22.
On the 20th of July, the Scottish lords of Moray's party, answering
Throckmorton, say :
" How shamfullie the Quene our Soveraigne wes led captive ; and by feare, force, and, as
by mony conjectures may be weill suspected, other extraordinary and mair unlauchfull meanys,
compelled to become bed-fallow to another wyves husband, and to him quha not thre monethis
afore had in his bed maist cruelly murtherid hir husband, is manifest to the warld, tc the great
dishonour of hir Majestic, ws all and this haill natioun." — Stevenson, 233.
The same document informs us besides that :
" he envyroned her persoun with a continewall garde of twa hundreth harquebusiers alsweil
day as nychi. ; quhair ever she went (besides a nomber of his servandes and others naughty
personis, murtheraris and pyrattis, quha to impetrate impunitie of there wickkit lyffe and
libertie to do ill, maid thair dependence on him) and by thir meanys brocht the nobilitie to that
miserable poynt, gif ony had to do with the prince, it behovit him, before he culd come to hir
presence, to ga throgh the rankes of harquebousiers under the mercy of a notorious tyran, as it
wer to pas the picques, a new exemple, and quhairwith this natioun had never bene acquaynted."
— 234-
Cecil confirms the isolation and violence of which Mary was the
victim.
" The sayd Erie also did notorioossly evill use the Quene, keping hir as a prisoner in
Dumbar, and through the discords betwixt them both grew very notoriooss, yet by means of such
had planted about the Quene, he alweiss recovered attonments." — Cecil's handwriting, Ander-
son, IV., i., 102.
So many precautions to hold fast a person who loves you do not
seem absolutely necessary.
Among the documents of the Privy Council is found an act (31st
July 1567) the work of Morton, Athol, Hume, Sinclair and Ruthven,
signers of the Ainslie bond, wherein it is said :
" He (Bothwell) had alswa tresonabilie revesit hir Majesties maist nobill persoun, and led
hir captive to Dunbar, constrenit hir, being in his bondage and thraldome, to contract sic ana
ungodlie and pretendit mariage with him, as nowther Goddis law nor manis law could permitt."
— Anderson, I., 142.
The December Parliament, pronouncing against Bothwell sentence
of forfeiture, accused him of having treasonably arrested the Queen,
and forced her to marry him through fright great enough to shake the
most courageous woman.
" Reginam vi at violentia compellando, " Forcing the Queen by strength and vio-
metu qui atiam in constantissimam mulierem lence, and also by the fear which may come
cadera poterit, promittere matrimonium quam upon a woman even the most firm of purpose,
celarime poterit cum eo contrahere." — Acta. to promise to marry him, with the shortest
Parliam., III., 8. possible delay.''
236 DISSERTATION II.
In October 1568 a document was signed by Moray and Morton,
wherein we read
"James, sumetime Erie Bothwell, being well known for chief author (of the murther)
thairof, enterit in so great credit and authoritie with the Quene, then our Soverane, that within
thre monethis efter the murther of hir husband, the said Erie plainlie enterprisit to ravish hir
persoun and leid hir to Dunbar Castle, haldand hir there as captive a certane space, during
quhilk he causit divorce be led betwixt him and his lauchfuU wyfe, and suddanlie, at the end
thairof, accomplisit a pretendit marriage betwix him and the Quene."
It is also said that the nobles then united,
" to put the Quene to fredome furth of the bondage of that tyran, that presumptuouslie had
enterprisit to revysh and marie hir, quhais lauchfull husband he could not be, nather she his
lauchfull wyfe." — Goodall, II., 144, 145.
The first reason for which Morton, Mar, Hume, &c., take up
arms is,
" pour avoir la Royne, qui estoit ddtenue par " to have the Queen, held prisoner by force,
force captive, pour la mectre en liberty." Ac- set free."
count of the Captain of Inchkeith. — Teulet, II.,
303 ; Anderson, I., 137.
Bothwell also says that the pretext given by the conspirators was,
" pour delivrer Sa Majeste de la miserable " to deliver her Majesty from the wretched
servitude ou il la tenoit, ce qu'elle nia aperte- bondage in which he held her, which she
ment devant tous." — Affaires du Cotnte de openly denied before all."
Bothwell, 19.
We shall see shortly what that denial was; meanwhile let us merely
note the pretext given.
Those, who, later on, pursued Bothwell, with so much ardour, said :
" Trew it is the noblemen now convenit acknowledge and will that all men now esteame
and judge of thame, that thai weill and dois allow of the first honorabill cans interprysed be
some vther noblemen, in the persuite of the erle Bothuell ; quha haveing presumptuouslie put
handis on the queines maiestie, our soueranes persone, and deteaned hir as captive, invironed
hir with a grit guard of men of weir, and vtheris of his devotione ; and thairby, be just feir, con-
strayned her against her will and commoditie, to enter suddanlie with him in due pretendit
mariage . . to releive hir heines from the bondage and tyrannie of that godles and vnworthy
man, yea, and to sequestrat her persone fra his societie quhill he might be punishit and expulsit,
was ane actione in the self worthie, allowable and deserving praise." — Banfiat. Memor., 28.
From those confessions of the friends and enemies of the Queen,
I conclude that Bothwell used violence to carry her off, detain her and
wring from her her consent.
Such misunderstanding betwixt husband and wife scarcely proves a
love-match. We have seen how violent were the scenes which followed
the marriage. The conduct of Bothwell in leaving Mary on the night
of the loth of June, and that of Mary in not following him from Borth-
wick, prove that at that time the misunderstanding still lasted.
DISSERTATION 11. 237
Melville says
" many of them that wer with hir, had oppinion that sche had intelligence with the lordis ;
cheifly sic as vnderstod of the Erie Bodowelis mishandling of hir, and many indignitez that he
had baith said and done vnto hir, sen ther mariage was maid." — 182.
Contrary to that opinion, the captain of Inchkeith, or the anonymous
person whom it is agreed upon to call by that name, asserts that Mary
was much grieved on seeing Bothwell depart.
" Ella feit partir Monsieur le Due avecque " She made the Duke depart with great
grande angoisse et douUeur de son couste et anguish and pain in her side, and they often
plus souventefois s'entrebesserent au d^partir. kissed one another at the parting. At last the
Sur la fin, Monsieur le Due lui demanda si Duke asked her if she would keep the promise
elle ne vouUoit de sa part garder la promesse of fidelity she had given him, and she assured
de fiddlit^ que elle luy avoit faicte, de quoy him she would. Thereupon he gave her his
elle luy assura. Ld-dessus luy bailla sa main hand as he was starting, and then he went and
ainsi que il departoit, et puis il s'en alia et mounted his horse, and, accompanied by a
monta a cheval (k) petite compagnie, environ dozen of his friends on horseback, he set off
une douzaine de chevaulx de ses amys, et par- galloping in the direction of Dunbar."
tist au gallop tirant le chemin vers Donbar."
—Teulet, II., 307.
The whole of that text, " ces doulleurs de son couste," of which
Mary had been complaining for some time, those " entrebessements,"
that " promesse de fidelity," that " main baillee," all the passage, in
short, seems at first natural and truthful. Yet one may call in question
that touching adieu — first, because Birrel, a cotem;;-orary author, says
that Bothwell fled secretly (p. 10) ; secondly, because Bothwell in his
"Affaires" seems to state the contrary :
" Elle me prya de m'en retourner d Dunbar " She begged me to return to Dunbar with
avecques mon arm^e, la ou de bref elle me my army, adding that she would shortly meet
viendroit trouver ou pour le moins qu'elle me me there, or at least send me news of her."
manderoit de ses nouvelles." — Les Affaires,
&^c., 20.
Are not the captain's words the chorus of a clique ? One might
believe it, for the day after Mary's capture some one made up, as I have
said, a letter in which the Queen called Bothwell her dear heart. Sup-
posing that Mary really cared so much for Bothwell, she might do so in
good faith and without dishonour, because — first, being herself innocent,
the last man whom she could suspect was Bothwell ; Darnley had never
shown him that antipathy with which he had looked upon the other
lords ; Bothwell had always given proofs of devotedness ; she might
think that the ill that was said of him was untrue, and the insults which
the rioters had uttered against herself and the Duke, in their excursion
near Borthwick, confirmed that belief: secondly, Bothwell had been
acquitted : thirdly, he had been recommended to her for a husband, — so
238 DISSERTATION 11.
many things which might excuse and justify her attachment at the last
hour. Those considerations explain the denial of which Bothwell
speaks in his "Affaires."
M. Mignet, by whose name I have long sworn to the guilt of Mary
Stuart, says that she surrendered to the nobles only " to save him
whom she loved." He has against him the text of Melville, and that
of Bothwell quoted above; he has in his favour a part of the account of
the captain of Inchkeith. That is a point which it is important to
elucidate.
Camden, whose account no one suspects, says on the subject :
"qui Bothwellium k reatu absolverant et "Those who had absolved Bothwell, and who
chirographis in nuptias consenserant, in eum had consented in writing to his marriage, took
arma sumpserunt quasi apprehensuri ; reverk up arms against him as if to seize him, but they
submonuerunt ut sibi fuga consuleret, non warned him to see to his safety by flight, and
alio consilio, quam ne apprehensus totam ma^ that, without any other motive than the dread
chinationem renudaret et ipsius fugam in argu- of seeing him reveal the whole plot, if they
mentum ad Reginam regicidii accusandam took him, and to be able to draw from his
arriperent." — I., 113. flight an argument to accuse the Queen of
regicide.''
Lord Herries affirms the same fact :
" Whereupon Sir William Kirkadie of Grange was sent from the confederats to treat with
the Queen, with an offer, that if she will put away her husband, and come in herselfe to there
armie, they were all reddie to do her duetifull obedience. He had a secret commission, under-
hand, and a token from the Earle of Mortoune to Bothwell, to advyse him to retear himself from
the furie of the people to some pairt out of the kingdome, for a small tyme, untill he wrought
business in a right posture ; but that the people are now so hote, that if he doe stay, it was not
possible to keep them from destruction on both syds ; and gave assurance, that if he wold slip
himselfe asyde, he may go frielie whither he pleased in securitie, for none shall be suffred to
follow." — Herrie^ Mem., 94.
The same accusation is again brought forward by John Lesley, in
his " Defence of Q. Mary's Honour" (41). The captain of Inchkeith,
whose sentimental words I have quoted, lets it be understood, without
heeding whether or not the two ideas fall in with one another, that it
was Bothwell who left the Queen.
"A la fin, les Seigneurs furent contants que "At last, the Lords were satisfied that the
Monsieur le Due s'en allast, pourveu que la Duke should go away, provided the Queen
Royne allast avecques eulx en sa ville de Lille- should go with them to her town of Edinburgh,
bourque. Monsieur le Due et le conseil des The Duke and the Council of Barons agreed
Barons accorderent et rdsolurent plustot cette to that, and decided upon it rather than shed
affaire que de repandre le sang, pourveu que blood, provided the Duke were safe and not
Monsieur le Due fust seur et sans estre pour- pursued."
suivi." — Teulet, II., 307.
It is in vain that he says, a few lines further on, that the Queen "feit
partir Monsieur le Due avecque grande angoisse et douUeur de son
couste." The fact remains : Bothwell and the barons had already
DISSERTATION II. 239
agreed and resolved upon the flight. Was it the thing for a man who
abandoned at such a moment her whom he had ravished, to ask her "si
elle voulloit de sa part garder la promesse de fidelity ?"
Mary's commissioners asserted at Westminster, that
" the Laird of Grange at the samyn tyme tuik the Erie Boythwell be the hand, and baid him
depart, promising that na man showld folow nor persew him." — Goodall, II., 165.
On the 26th of June, eleven days after the flight of Bothwell, the
Lords of the Secret Council sent to summon |the keeper of Dunbar to
give up the place, and on the same day, they issued a warrant of arrest
against Bothwell. Now, the keeper in question was Bothwell,
" and the charge to surrender it can only be construed, as in intimation that he would do well
to depart." — Chalmers, I. 364.
From those texts, we learn that Bothwell fled through the advice of
the nobles, that Mary saw him depart without grief, and that, instead of
surrendering to save him whom she loved, she surrendered, as I have
said in the text, to avoid bloodshed, leaving Bothwell to his fate. A
grave fault : in acting thus, " she mistook her real interest," says M.
Wiesenei;, " as she had so many times mistaken it. Her interest, a
month before, was to be firm in her refusal to wed Bothwell ; now it
was her Interest to try and follow him as far as the shelter at Dunbar
and await events." — M. Wiesener, 411.
After the flight of Bothwell, the lords continued to accuse him of
violence towards the Queen ; they claim him from the King of Den-
mark as an assassin and ravisher, and make grave charges against him.
Mary's innocence is formally acknowledged in the letter of Th. Buchanan,
nephew of the famous pamphleteer :
" Praeterea negare improbissimus ille proditor " Besides that perverse traitor cannot deny
non poterit, qvin Rage ac domino suo trucidato that, after killing his King and Lord, and thus
nefarieque a se sublato armata militum manu ridding himself of him in a criminal manner,
comitatus vimpublice Serenissimae Scottise Re- he publicly, at the head of a squadron of armed
gins intulerit et violenter in arcem quandam soldiers, did violence to the most serene Queen
totius regni munitissimam sibi commissam of Scots, and dragged her forcibly to the best
traxerit, scelus meo judicio inexpiabile." — fortified place in the Kingdom, which he com-
Affaires du Comte de Bothwell, app., Iv. manded, an unpardonable crime in my eyes."
In Scotland, people were more and more persuaded of the Queen's
innocence ; on the 17th of June 1567, the Earl of Huntly, the guilty
worker of Mary's misfortunes, and with him, several other Scottish
lords, intercede with the King of France in her favour. (Earl of Huntly
to the Archbishop Glasgow, 17th June. — State Paper Office).
On the I St of April 1568, two-thirds of Scotland rise against the Regent
240 DISSERTATION 11.
and his followers, and warn him that they shall hold him and his allies
liable for the least harm that may happen to their Queen. (B. de la
Forest to the King. Teulet, II., 345).
If one compares that fact with the silence which answered the
eloquent proclamations of the nobles {^Buchanan, XVIII., 44; Knox's
Reformation, V., 355), and the coldness they met with from the people
of the large towns, one will admit that the Queen's cause gained in
power as the calumnies vanished.
"Lo que se le imponia de la muerte del "What was reproached in regard to her
marido, paresce que se olvida, y van teniendo husband's death seems to be being forgotten,
por fuerza loque hizo en lo de matrimonio de and people attribute to force her marriage with
Boitguel, por no haver podido la Reina con Bothwell, the Queen not having been able to
justos temores excusarlo, como se ha comen- avoid it through just fears, as people have
zado a publicar." Gusman de Silva to Philip begun to publish it.''
II., gth July 1568. — Archives de Simancas,
Inglaterra.
On his arrival in Norway, Bothwell asserted the Queen's innocence.
" Contrariam factionem subditos rebelles " Calling the contrary faction rebellious sub-
asserens, nee uUam hac in causa Reginas jects, and maintaining that the Queen ought
accusationem intervenire.'' King of Den- not, by any means, to be accused in that
mark to James VI. — Affaires du Comte de debate.''
Bothwell, App., xliii.
Many times during his life he repeated the same words ; he attested
that same innocence on his death-bed, and his will was recognised as
authentic in England and on the Continent. Thence I conclude that
Mary is innocent.
In 1586, at the time of the pillage of Chartley Castle, there was
found among Mary's jewels, a small gold box, in the form of a triptych,
containing miniatures of Darnley and Mary, with their son in the
middle. {Prince Labanoff, VII., 244). " Can it be conceived," says M.
Wiesener, " if she had had to reproach herself with hatred and a share
in the murder of him whom she always called ' her late Lord, the King
Henry,' can it be conceived that she should have preciously treasured
that triple image during twenty years of torture ? that, anxious for con-
solation and strength, she should, amid her anguish, with the same look
fondly gaze upon the child whom she cherished and the husband whom
she is said to have betrayed and murdered ?" M. Wiesener, 156.
While clearing away, some years ago, the ruins of the Castle of
Fotheringay, the last prison wherein the luckless Mary dwelt, there was
found a seal in the shape of a ring, bearing on one side, the date 1565,
Henri L. Darnley, with a lion on the shield, and on the other, H. and
M. (Henry and Mary) in a monogram. How was it that that jewel was
DISSERTATION II. 241
not mislaid in the various journeys from prison to prison ? How is it
that it was omitted in the very minute inventory at Chartley ? How is
it that it was lost exactly at the last halting-place of the Queen of Scots ?
There is but one solution possible ; it must be admitted that Mary wore
it constantly on her finger, and that it was lost shortly before, during,
or after the execution. Sad waif escaped from the wreck, it now
serves as a testimony in favour of her who wore it until death.
In 1584, Mary said, in reference to the marriage of the young Prince :
" his father was married when he was but nineteen years old." — Miss Strickland, V., 323.
She is ever speaking of Darnley ; but of Bothwell, not a word, not
a keepsake. That last consideration destroys the fable of thorough
contempt for Darnley, and of passionate love for Bothwell.
VOL. II. 2 ^^
DISSERTATION III.
MARY AND BABINGTON.
Many apologists of Mary Stuart pretend that the letter from that
Princess to Babington (17th July) was written, unknown to her, by her
secretaries, and that therefore she is not responsible for it. Though
that feeling has- long prevailed, and may, as an argument, easily be
brought forward against the enemies of the unfortunate Queen, I do
not accept it, \st., because nothing proves that the thing so happened ;
2dly, because in such a case the master is liable for the act of his
servants. I therefore set aside that line of defence which would lead
one to think that the authors who have put it forward, so positively,
love Mary Stuart more than they love truth.
The Queen of Scots is guilty of having tried to assassinate Elizabeth,
and these things are against her :
I. The anxiety wJiich she always showed in prison, and her well-
known hatred for the Queen of England.
II. The letters she wrote to the conspirators, especially the one to
Babington.
III. The confessions of her Secretaries.
I. I cannot say, if at heart, Mary did or did not hate Elizabeth ; this
much, however, is certain, that she never spoke ill of her, while all her
letters breathe gentleness and conciliation. One alone contains intimate
particulars far from flattering to the reputation of the Queen of England ;
but to whom was that letter written ? To Elizabeth herself, to let her
know the fine things that the Countess of Shrewsbury related about
her.
In 1568 she writes :
" Madame ma bonne Soeur, j'ay resceu deus " Madam, my good sister, I have received
de vos letters, k la premiere desquelles j'espfere two of your letters, to the first of which I
fayre response de bousche moy mesme, et par hope to reply by word of mouth through
MilordScrupetvotrevischamberland(Knollys), My Lord Scrap and your vice-chamberlain
entendu votre naturelle bonne inclination en (Knollys) considering your natural good in-
DISSERTATION III.
243
vers moy, ce que, en certitude, je me suis
tousjours promis, et vouldroys que mon affec-
tion vers vous vous feut aussi apparante que
sans fiction je vous la porte de vray, et alors
vous pancerids votre bonne volontay mieulx
emploide que je ne vous sauroys persuader
par mes humbles mersimants." — Prince Laba-
noff, II., 80.
clination towards me, which, in truth, I have
always expected and I should wish that my
affection towards you were as apparent to
you as in reality, I sincerely bear it to you,
and then you would think your kindness better
employed than I can persuade you by my
humble thanks."
In the same year, cast aside by Elizabeth, she writes
" Si vous craign^s blasme, aumoins pour la
fiance que j'ai eue en vous, ne faites pour moy ni
centre moy, que ne voyez comma jeviendray k
mon honneur, estant en liberty, car icy, je ne
puis ny ne veulx respondre k leurs faulses ac-
cusations, mais ouy par amitid et bon plaisir,
me veulx-je justifier vers vous de bonne voglia.
.... Combien que je ne vous blasme en rien
de ceste men^e centre moy, mais j'espere, pour
toutes leurs belles offres et faulx coulourez
discours, vous me conoistrez une plus profit-
able amie qu'ilz sgauroient vous estre." — Idem,
II., 99, 100.
In 1569, after the York > Conferences, at the time, when in her hfe
she must have been most vexed by the indignities which she had under-
gone, she wrote :
" If you fear blame, at least for the trust I
have placed in you, do nothing for or against
me, until you see how, when free, I shall clear
my honour ; for here I cannot and will not
answer their false accusations, but when
willingly listened to by friends, I wish to
justify myself to you de bonne voglia
Though I blame you not for this behaviour
towards me, yet 1 hope, despite all their fine
offers and false coloured speeches, that you
will find me to be one of' the best friends you
could have."
" Apres Dieu (je) chersche votre ayde seul.
Et si mes adversferes vous donnent autre chose
k entendre, ils sont faubc, et vous abus^e en
cela ; car je vous honore- comme ma soeur
ayn&, et non obstant toutes ces choses (qui me
sont grifeves) si desubs ramantue, je seray
toujours preste de requerir, comme de mon
aynde soeur, votre faveur, layssant tout aultre.
Et Dieu veuille que I'acseptids et me tr^ti^s
comme je desire meriter en votre endroyct." —
Idem, II., 283.
In 1570:
" Hdlas ! contentez-vous, Madame, de la de-
struction de mes frontiferes et forteresses, de
mes subjects prinses, et moy voulontferemant
venue entre voz meins, sans vous vouUoir
armer, pour le soubtien de mes rebelles, centre
vottre propre sang, de qui, si il vous plest vous
pouvez disposer 4 votre contentemant." — Idem,
53-
" Ayant recours au lieu du pleige, au meryte
de mon humble sumission et ob^yssance,
laquelle je vous offre comme si j'avoys I'hon-
neur de vous estre fille, comme j'ay celluy de
" After God (I) seek your aid alone. If my
enemies lead you to believe anything else, they
are false and you are deceived ; for I honour
you as my elder sister, and despite all those
things (which are painful to me) here above
quoted, I shall always be ready to ask, as from
my elder sister, your favour, leaving aside all
other. And God be willing that you accept
my request and treat me as I wish to deserve
at your hands."
" Alas ! Madam, be satisfied with the de-
struction of my frontiers and fortresses, my
subjects taken, and my coming into your hands
of my own free will, without seeking to arm
yourself, for the support of my rebellious sub-
jects, against your own blood, of which, if you
please, you may dispose at your will."
"In reference to the place ot the pledge,
and the merit of my humble submission and
obedience, which I offer to you as if I had
the honour to be your daughter, as I have that
244
DISSERTATION III.
vous estre soeur et cousine plus proche, et ne
cedant d nulle de vous obdyr et honnorer d'ycy
en avant, s'il vous playst m'accepter pour en-
tyerement vostre ; en recompanse de quoy je
vous requiers humblement I'octroy de vostre
presence." — Prince Labanoff, III., lo8.
In 1571 :
of being your sister and nearest cousin, and
yielding to none the duty to obey and honour
you henceforward, if it please you to accept
me as entirely yours ; in reward for which I
humbly entreat you to grant me your pre-
sence."
" I am in your hands, you can at all times
do with me what may please you ; but yet, I
wish to declare to you and everybody, that I
have not given you cause to treat me so, and
should be very sorry had I even by my
thoughts done so."
" Je suis entre vos mains, vous pouvez en tout
temps faire de moy ce que bon vous semblera ;
mais cependant, je veux bien declarer et k
vous et k tout le monde que je ne vous ay
donn^ occasion de me faire traicter ainsi et
seroy bien marrye I'avoir pensd" — Idem, III.,
359-
In 1572, in want of clothes in her prison, she asks some from Eliza-
beth, and sends her
" ses affectueuses recommendations." — Idem, " her affectionate remembrances.''
IV., 44.
In 1573 she said to la Mothe Fdnelon :
" Je ne I'ay ofifancde en sorte que ce soit ni " I have not either offended her or any of
aucuns de ses ministres, de quoy Dieu me sera her ministers in any way, in which God will
temoing."— Idem, IV., 70. be my witness.''
In 1574 Mary sends Elizabeth a piece of embroidery, worked in her
prison, and begs her
" d'avoir meilleur opinion d'elle." — Idem, IV.,
172.
In 1587 she wrote :
" Si le Roy (de France) me laisse en faisant
ligne avec elle, il mettra ma vie k I'enquent et
fortifiera ses ennemys et les myens. Je ne le
veux requ&ir faire aucune entreprise pour moy,
durant la vie de ceste Royne." — Idem, IV.,
252.
In 1576:
" Madame, ma bonne soeur, le bon nombre
de courtoysies qu'il vous a pleu me fayre des-
puis un temps me rend d'autant plus ddsireuse,
de les m&iter en vottre endroit davantasge
avec le temps, et s'il est en ma puissance, de
fayre chose qui vous soit agrdable." — Idem,
" to have a better opinion of her."
" It the King (of France) forsake me by
making a league with her, he will put a price
on my life, and will strengthen his enemies
and mine. I do not wish to ask him to under-
take anything for me during the life of this
Queen."
" Madam, my good sister, the great number
of courtesies which it has pleased you to do
me for some time past makes me most desirous
to deserve them from you the more for the
future, and if it is in my power to do anything
to please you."
IV., 333.
In 1577, in reference to several despatches which had been seized,
she said :
" Si c'est Mr Walsingham qui a faict ceste
recherche par commandement de la Royne sa
maitresse, je ne veulx trouver k redire, n'ayant
rien plus agrdable que de les esclaircir en toutes
" If it is Mr Walsingham who has made
that search by command of the Queen, his
Mistress, I do not wish to find fault,-there
being nothing more agreeable to me than to
DISSERTATION III.
245
occurrences et en toutes occasions de la sin-
c6nt6 de mes d^portements, ou je ne crains
point d'estre surprise, n'y qu'on en puisse rien
reprdsenter vdritable contrevenant au respect
et bonne affection que je porte k la Royne ma
dite bonne soeur." — Prince Labanoff^ IV., 392.
enlighten people as to all events and on every
occasion as to the sincerity of my behaviour,
wherein I do not fear to be taken unawares,
nor that anything may be gleaned therefrom
contradictory to the respect and affection that
I bear the Queen, my said good sister."
In 1578 she wrote to the Cardinal de Guise ;
" Mon bon oncle, j'ay entendu par vos der-
niferes le bon portement de tous les nostres, de
quoy je loue Dieu, et que, pour mauvais traite-
ment que je ressoive, vous et eux avez occasion
de vous assurer que c'est sans I'avoir mdrit^
vers la Royne d'Angleterre, ma bonne sceur,
laquelle je n'ay offensde de parole, de fayt ni
de pensee. . . . Je ne sauroys que fayre dad-
vantage et m'offrir k respondre k ce qui sera
requis pour la satisfaction de ma dite bonne
soeur. Par aynsi de ce point soyez hors de
peine que je n'ay rien fayt qui puisse mal
desservir." — Idem, V., 17, 18.
" My good uncle, I learned from your last
the good health of all our friends, for which I
praise God, and that, despite the bad treat-
ment I receive, they and you are assured that
it is without my deserving it at the hands of
the Queen of England, my good sister, whom
I have offended neither in word, deed, nor
thought. ... I cannot do more than answer
what may be asked of me for the satisfaction
of my said good sister. Thus on that point
have no anxiety that I have done anything
that can be hurtful to me."
In 1579 she writes to Walsingham, whom she very erroneously
thinks her friend :
"Je vous priray affectueusement de tes-
moigner de ma part a laditte Royne, ma
bonne sceur, suivant ce que je luy escripz
pr^sentement, I'entifere et bonne affection que
j'ay au bien de ces affayres et le ddsir que j'ay
de luy complayre en tout ce qui concernera
son repos et contentement particulier, dont
elle et tous messieurs de son Conseill ce
peuvent confidamment assurer et recepvoir
suffisante preuve, si aucun vouloit advancer
le contrayre." — Idem, V., loi.
In 1580 she writes to Elizabeth
"Arrachant d'entre nous toute occasion de
soubpgon et de deffiance, (je d^sirois) establir
une parfaicte amiti6 pour nostre commune
suret^ et le bien, grandeur et prosperity de
ceste isle." — Idem, V., 145.
In 15&1:
"J'offre k me soubzmectre k toutes conditions
justes et raisonnables pour establir une bonne,
seure et parfaicte amiti^ entre ceste Royne et
moy et mon filz." — Idem, V., 207.
" I shall beg of you kindly to assure the said
Queen, my good sister, from me, according as
I write her now, of the entire and good affec-
tion and interest that I take in the success of
her affairs, and the desire that I have to please
her in all that may concern her peace and
private contentment, on which she and all the
gentlemen of her Council may confidently
rely, and of which they could receive sufficient
proof, if any one wished to advance the con-
trary."
" Casting aside from between us all occasion of
suspicion and mistrust, (I desired) to establish
a perfect friendship for our common safety,
and for the welfare, greatness and prosperity
of this island."
" I offer to submit to all just and reasonable
terms to establish a good, sure and perfect
friendship between that Queen and me and
my son."
In 1582 Mary Stuart defies Elizabeth to reproach her with anything,
and demands that her conduct shall be enquired into :
246
DISSERTATION III.
" ' S'il s'y trouve du mal,' said she, 'que je le
patisse (ce sera plus patiemmerit quand j'en
sgauray roccasion) ; si du bien, ne le mescong-
noissez pas davantage et ne souffrez que j'en
soys plus longuement si mal retribute, avec
vostre tres grande charge devant Dieu et las
hommes.'" — Prince Labanqff, V., 326.
" If there has been wrong done, let me suffer
for it (I shall do so the more patiently when I
shall know the reason) ; if good, disown it no
longer, and do not suffer that I be further so
badly rewarded for it, with your very great
burden, before God and men."
In 1583 she writes to Castelnau de Mauvissiere :
" Ma nourriture en France avec tant d'hon-
neur que j'y ay regu, m'oblige de I'affectionner
estroitement ; et le bien, que sur le bon naturel
de ladite Reine d'Angleterre, ma bonne soeur,
je veux encore me promettre d'elle pour I'avenir
me contiendra en tout devoir de bonne parent^
vers elle ; dont je puis dire m'estre tres sincere-
ment acquittde jusqu'k present." — Idem, V.,
374-
" My education in France, and the honour
that I received there, make me love it greatly ;
and the good that, judging from the good-
nature of the said Queen of England, my good
sister, I still wish to expect from her, will keep
me in all duties of good kinship towards her;
of which I can say I have very sincerely ac-
quitted myself until now."
In 1584, on the subject of a talked-of agreement, she writes
"En respect de quoy, m'estant volontaire-
ment soubzmise k des conditions si advanta-
geuses pour elle et excedantes toute raison
pour moy-mesme, que de prince k prince elles
ne se pourroient justement desirer, ny quasy
elle mesme d'aulcun seigneur qu'elle aye en
son royaulme, je pense devant Dieu premi^re-
ment et devant tous les rois et princes de la
Chrestientd lesquels j'en feray tousjours juges,
en rester suffisamment et honnorablement
ddchargfe, quoy que en reussisse ; y ayant
de ma part procddd d'une aussi enti^re, naifve
et sincere intention que Chrestien feit jamais
en action quelconque. Et ddfie en cest en-
droict tous mes plus grands, subtilz et mali-
cieulx ennemis, affin que dessoubz terre (oii ilz
ont jusques icy cache leurs infinies mines et
mendes), ils paroissent une foys, s'ilz osent, en
public, pour k visage descouvert maintenir ce
qu'eux tous ensemble sgauroient imaginer, dire
et fayre contre moy : m'offrant pareillement,
en telle publicque assemble qui sera trouvde
raisonnable, de leur en respondre, et recepvoir
franchement ce que par les princes chrestiens
en sera sur ce d^termind. . . . Car pour la
vdritd je donne k mes ennemys la carthe
blanche de publier le pis qu'ils pourront de
moy, mesmement de ma fiddle intention et
sincferes depportemens k I'endroit de la dite
Royne, ma bonne soeur et ce royaume." —
Idem, v., 393, 397.
"Quant k notre accord et commune bonne
intelligence avec la Royne d'Angleterre,
" In respect to which, having willingly sub-
mitted to conditions so advantageous to her,
and exceeding all reason for myself, that they
could not in justice be insisted on between
prince and prince, and that she herself could
scarcely impose on any lord in her kingdom, I
think, before God in the first place, and before
all Kings and Princes of Christendom, whom I
shall ever make my judges, that I shall be
sufficiently and honourably exculpated, what-
ever betide ; having, for my part, proceeded in
the matter with as full, artless, and sincere an
intention as ever did Christian in any action.
And I defy, in this respect, all my greatest,
most subtle and malicious enemies : let them
rise from beneath the earth (where they have
till now hidden their deep mines and plots),
and once appear, if they dare, in public, and
openly assert what all of them can invent, say
and do against me; offering in like manner,
for my part, in such public assembly as may
be thought reasonable, to answer them, and
abide by the decision that the Christian
Princes may come to. . . . For I give my
enemies, for the sake of truth, full power to
publish against me their worst, and also my
good intentions and sincere doings towards
the said Queen, my good sister, and this
kingdom.''
"As for our harmony and common good
understanding with the Queen of England
DISSERTATION III.
247
madame ma bonne soeur, je ne veulx que
vous pour tesmoing si en effect et par tous
mes deportemens et n^gociations depuis vostre
sdjour de huict ans en ce royaume, je n'ay pas
essayd par tous moyens d'y parvenir et le
mdriter aultant qu'il estoit en ma puissance.
Mais hflas ! Monsieur de Mauvissiere, ce
n'est pas entre elle et nous que gist le prin-
cipal fondement de ceste discussion." — Prince
Labanoff, V., 410.
Madam, my good sister, I wish only you as
witness to declare if, in all my doings and
negotiations during your stay of eight years in
this country, I have not truly tried all means
to attain and deserve them as much as lay
in my power. But alas ! Monsieur de Mauvis-
sifere, it is not between her and us that the
principal cause of this discussion lies."
In 1585 she joins the association for the defence of Elizabeth, and
" de sa bonne grace et franche volont^, declare
et prometz en parole de Royne et sur sa foy et
honneur, qu'elle repute dfes k present et tiendra
k perpdtuite pour ses mortels ennemis tous
cenlx, sans nul excepter, qui par conseil, pro-
curement, consentement ou aultre acte quel-
conque attempteront ou executeront (ce que
Dieu ne veuille) aulcune chose au prejudice
de la vye de la dite Royne, sa bonne sceyr;
et comme telles, les poursuivra par tous
moyens jusqu'k extremity, sans jamais cesser
qu'elle n'en aye faicte faire justice, punition et
vengeance suffizantes et exemplaires." — Idem,
VI., 76, 77.
On the same day she writes to
whom she kept nothing secret :
" Un de mes principaulx d^sirs en ce monde
ayant tousjours estd de m'acqu^rir et conserver
I'amitid de la Royne d'Angleterre, Madame ma
bonne soeur, il fault que je me resjouisse avec
vous et mes aultres serviteurs par delk de
I'asseurahce qu'il luy a pleu m'en donner en
ceste dernifere ndgociation, que j'ay traictd
avec elle, estant la seule chose que j'avais
attendue toutes ces ann^es passdes pour m'y
arrester et fermer enti^rement." — Idem, VI.,
7?.
"with her good grace and free-will declares
and promises on her word as a Queen, and
on her faith and honour, that she holds now,
and will ever hold, as her mortal enemies, all
those, without exception, who by advice, war-
rant, consent, or any other act, shall attempt
or execute (which God forbid) anything to the
prejudice of the life of the said Queen, her
good sister; and as such will pursue them, by
all means, to the end, without ever ceasing,
until she obtain sufficient and exemplary jus-
tice, punishment and vengeance."
the Archbishop of Glasgow, from
" One of my chief desires in this world hav-
ing always been to gain and keep the friendship
of the Queen of England, Madam, my good
sister, I must rejoice with you and my other
servants abroad, at the assurance thereof which
she has been pleased to give me in this my
last negotiation with her, it being the only
thing that I had waited for during all those
past years, to abide by and hold to entirely."
Regarding Parry, she wrote to Elizabeth
" Sur ce que I'ambassadeur de France m'a
imparty dernierement d'un Parray et de Mor-
gan, je vous diray seullement, le prenant sur
mon honneur et conscience, que vous ne
trouverez point que j'y sois mesl^e en sorte
que ce soit, aborrant, plus qu'aultre de la
chrestient^, si detestables practique et actes
horribles; car pour vous dire librement,
Madame, je ne puis pancer que ceulx qui
attempteront k vostre vie, n'en fissent aultant
k la mienne, et quasy aujourd'huy, la mienne
" In reference to what the ambassador of
France has told me lately about one Parray
and Morgan, I shall merely say to you, taking
it on my honour and conscience, that you will
not find I have been in any way mixed up
with them, abhorring, more than any other in
Christendom, such detestable practises and
horrible acts ; for to speak frankly, Madam, I
cannot but think that those who shall attemj; t
your life would do the same for mine, and mine
now seems almost to depend on yours ; know-
248 DISSERTATION III.
semble despendre de la vostre ; sachant bien ing well, that if you happen to fall, you have
que, si venez k faillir, vous avez prfes de vous beside you some of those new associates who
de ces nouveaux associez qui me feront bien- would soon make me follow you."
tost vous suivre." — Prince Labanoff, VI., 139.
In 1586 she asks from Walsingham a passport for several of her ser-
vants in terms which breathe patience and submission. (Idem, V., 256.)
Such were, briefly, the sentiments of Mary Stuart until the Babing-
ton Conspiracy. It cannot be conceived therefrom how historians have
been able to forget the facts and themselves so far as to make Mary,
during the whole of her captivity, " a restless woman, a viper, a wild
cat," and use a thousand other epithets of like good taste. During
eighteen long years, notwithstanding the most unjust persecutions, she
shows herself calm and reserved, and seeks, by all honest means, to
gain the good graces of Elizabeth, without ever trying to injure her.
Whence I conclude, against Mr Froude and those of his school, that
Mary by no means manifested the anxiety or hatred against Elizabeth,
that is attributed to her. A woman who hated could not have feigned
affection for eighteen years.
II. — HER LETTERS TO THE CONSPIRATORS.
In her letters to the conspirators, there is no mention of murdering
Elizabeth. The ideas raised in that conspiracy are of two sorts : free-
dom the end, invasion the means : the projects appear simultaneously.
In January 1585, Charles Paget advises Mary to flee in man's cloth-
ing. (Paget to Q. Mary, 4th January, State Paper Office). At the
same period, the Archbishop of Glasgow warns her that the King of
Spain is preparing an invasion, probably against England (the Arch-
bishop of Glasgow to Mary Stuart, 1585, State Paper Office) ; and what
proves that Mary, while wishing an invasion, made use of that extreme
measure only with regret, is that, from a faint glimmer of hope, and
thinking the step needless, she wrote in the same month to the Arch-
bishop of Glasgow :
" Je suis en meilleure espdrance que jamais, " I am in better hopes than ever, and mean-
et cependant asseur^e de tout bon et favorable while assured of all good and favourable treat-
traictement, je vous charge de signiffier a tous ment, I charge you to tell my relatives, and all
messieurs mes parentz et aultres mes amys et my other friends and servants abroad, that I
serviteurs par delk que ie les prie tous, tant en beg them, one and all, to desist from all prac-
commun que chascun d'eulx en particulier, de tices and negotiations tending to disturb this
se d^partir de toutes pratiques et n^gociations, State, if they are engaged in any."
si aulcunes ilz en ont, tendans au trouble de
cest estat." — Prince Labanoff, VI. , 78.
That letter allows one to see the beginning of the conspiracy in its
DISSERTATION III. 249
true light ; Mary, tired of captivity, wishes to recover her freedom ; she
is anxious to bring it about by arrangement ; it is only as a last resource
that she calls for an invasion, and clings to that idea with firmness ; but
as to killing Elizabeth, not a word is breathed about that.
On the 13th of January of the same year, Hugh Owen, in his
letter to Mary Stuart, speaks only of the escape, and clearly proves
that the life of Queen Elizabeth was not sought, by advising Mary to
be patient with her, and assuring her that, once free, she is sure to
find, even in England, many friends, on account of her right to the
crown. (H. Owen to Q. Mary, 13th January). That idea comes
up again in July, in the letter of Charles Paget^ who points out to
Mary the means of escaping. (Ch. Paget to Q. Mary, i8th July, State
Paper Office).
The letters written to the captive Queen during the conspiracy, give
no grounds for suspecting any other design. (Mzirdin, 439-528).
The invasion engrossed Mary's thoughts during the year 1586, as we
learn from the letters of Dr Allen (26th January), of the Archbishop of
Glasgow (21st March and loth May), of Mendo9a (9th May, State
Paper Office), and from Mary's answers, {Prince Labanoff, VI., 295,
313, 407, 416, 432) ; but she never knew if the King really intended to
attack England. She was never sure of it. {Prince Labanoff, VII.,
206).
On this point, then, we have no doubt : Mary wished and encouraged
an invasion. Can she and ought she to be forgiven ? Theoretically,
no ; for private interest ought to yield to general interest ; but in the
case now before us, the answer is different. Mary, a lawful Queen, not
under Elizabeth's jurisdiction, detained against all right in cruel
captivity, must not be looked upon as a private person. In imprisoning
Mary, Elizabeth not only encroached on the prerogatives of crowned
heads, but also made use of her victim to curb the pretensions of the
Princes of the Continent, to keep the Scots in check, and even to seize
their country if that were possible. In Mary the part of a private
individual ceases, and becomes a general cause.
In addition to that great and mighty plan, Mary had recourse to
private aid to gain her freedom. But nowhere in her letters to the
Archbishop of Glasgow, Parsons, Englefield and Mendo^a (Prince
Labanoff, VI., 294, 335, 382, 409, 414, 432, 434), does one find' the
project of killing Elizabeth. On the ^^th of July, she wrote six letters
to various persons who took an interest in her, and there is not in one
of them even a whisper of the murder.
VOL. II. 2 I
250 DISSERTATION III.
One alone incriminates her : the answer to Babington, written on
the same day, ^^th, and I confess, that at the first glance, that count
looks somewhat serious. Yet that letter is not admissible, ist, because
it clearly clashes with Mary's sentiments ; 2dly, because those who put
it forward had an interest in forging it, and were fit to do so ; 3dly,
because the original was never shown ; and 4thly, because we find in it,
intrinsic proofs of forgery.
First, Mary, throughout, gave proofs of her loyalty, frankness and
sincerity ; thrice during the later times, she is said to have refused to
flee, hoping everything from the goodwill of Elizabeth. {Teulet, V.,
206 ; Ptince Labmtoff, VII., 197, 205). The texts quoted above, suffice
to prove how free from blame was her conduct. She never would do
anything against her rival in whom she respected till the last, the
sacred character of Queen.
In 1575, she wrote :
" Je ne pr^tendray de depossdder personne, " I should not pretend to dispossess any
soit 'k tort, soit k droict, qui sont desjk en one, wrongly or rightly, already in possession."
possession." — Prince Labanoff, IV., 253.
In 1576, speaking of the English lords whom she had to keep up,
she said :
" II me faut m'appuyer si bien que je ne " I must stay myself, so that I may not fall
vienne k tomber tout d'un coup, si ceste suddenly, if that Queen should meet her death
Royne venoit \ mourir ; ce que j'actendray which I shall await patiently, without rushing
patiemment, sans me prdcipiter en aucun into any inconvenience."
inconvenient." — Prince Labanoff, IV., 314,
We learn from Nau, that in 1581,
" La dite Royne d'Escosse fut advertye que " The said Queen of Scots was told that
plusieurs Angloys s'estoient rangez tout a faict several English had gone over to the King of
au Roy d'Espagne, luy proposant de I'investir Spain, and proposed to give him the Crown of
de la couronne d'Angleterre de quoy England at which the said Queen of
ladite Royne d'Escosse fust fort offens^e, per- Scots was very much annoyed, ever persisting
sistant tousjours k ne se vouloir entremesler in wishing to meddle only with Scotland as a
que pour I'Escosse, comme en lieu ou personne place where no one could find fault with her
ne pouvoit trouver k redire qu'elle et les siens and her friends, for doing what they would."
fissent ce que bon leur sembleroit." — Mdmoire
de Nau, Prince Labanoff^ VI I., 202.
Secondly, That Elizabeth's councillors had already wished to get rid
of Mary by poison or by the sword, is well known in history. After
using Mary Stuart to crush the Scots, they had an interest in getting rid
of her from the day that her presence became dangerous. The last
disturbances supplied them with the motive ; but a reason to put the
captive to death was needed ; so Walsingham formed around her, a
DISSERTATION III. 251
conspiracy against Elizabeth's life ; his usual style being to entangle in
conspiracies, those whom he wished to ruin. {Sanderson, 115.) That
trick, whether on account of Walsingham's well known talent, or on
account of its very plainness, did not pass unnoticed.
"Many were of opinion this conspiracie to be but a devised thing by some about the Queene
of England, enemys to the Scottishe Queen, who, by all appearance desired to compas thinges to
her disadvantage, and so sei-vinge them selves of all occasiones the better to prevaile against her,
have induced the Queene of England to beleeve that she was a partie in this late conspiracye ;
by which meanes they hope to cause her to attempte somewhat farther againste her person." —
C our celled Dispatches, 3.
Those conscientious ministers stuck at nothing to compass their
ends. They formed conspiracies themselves, or urged on those already
entering on them. By their spies they seized secret missives, and forged
replies. Forging was the general fault of the policy of the sixteenth
.century (Gray's Papers, 150; Spottiswoode, note, III., 281 ; Hosack, 251),
but one may safely say that, in that respect, Walsingham and his
colleagues have far distanced all the forgers of England, France and
Navarre. Phelipps, the tool of Walsingham, under an assumed name,
began and carried on an imaginary correspondence with a gentleman
named Owen — perhaps the same Hugh Owen of whom I have spoken
above — and tried to get from him the opinion of the Spanish govern-
ment, and drive him headlong into conspiracies.
Phelipps, that despicable forger, wrote later :
" The truth is, that there never was any real or direct correspondence held with Owen, but,
by a mere stratagem,'' &c. — Tytler, IV., 333, app.
The same Phelipps, as early as the 14th of July, three days before
Mary Stuart answered Babington, exclaimed with an assurance too
great not to be suspected :
"We attend her very heart in the next." — Tytler, IV., 124.
The historian Tytler has found in the State Papers a note from
Walsingham, which lets out the ignoble secret :
" I send you herewith enclosed another letter, written from the King of Spain unto some
noblemen within this realm, which was delivered unto me by her Majesty, together with the
other letter of Don Bernardino remaining in your hands, which, if it may be deciphered, will
I hope, lay open the treachery that reigneth here amongst us." — Tytler, app. iv. ; 334, note.
In reference to the action brought against Destrappes at the same
time as Mary Stuart's trial, one of the gentlemen, " de Bellievre," wrote
to Villeroy :
"Et avoyent, ces beaux conseillers d' Angle- "And those fine councillors of England had
>terre, forg^, falsifid et compost touttes telles forged, perverted and composed all suchVrit-
escriptures qu'ilz avoyent voullu, sur ce faict ings as they had wished, regarding the fact
252 DISSERTATION III.
par eulx invente et project^ ; car il faut notter invented and planned by them ; for it must be
que jamais ne produisent les mesmes pieces noted that they never produce the origmal
originaulx de proceddures sign^es des partyes, documents of the proceedings, but only copies,
mais seuUement des coppies, fes-quelles ilz ad- which they increase or diminish according as
joustent et diminuent ce qu'il leur plaist et leur they please or as it suits their usual inven-
sert en leurs inventions ordinaires." — Teulet, tions."
IV, 147.
The cotemporary historian Eytzinger says also :
" Litteras more sua fictas proferunt quas sola " They present letters which they have forged
possunt auctoritate confirmare."— Af^, 91. according to their wont, and which they can
attest by their own authority alone."
Thence I draw these conclusions — First, those words prove that
the ministers were old offenders ; therefore the letter to Babington with
its incoherencies is much to be suspected. Secondly, in the Destrappes
affair, the ministers intended to make
" tumber et renverser le tout sur le col de la "the whole blame rest on the poor wretched
pauvre miserable princesse," princess,"
as is acknowledged by the ambassador of France {Teulet, IV., 148) to
the ambassador of Spain {Teulet, V., 466), and by the Master of Gray
himself {Grays Papers, 131) ; therefore the share that Mary had in the
Babington Conspiracy was not sufficient in the minds of the ministers
to deserve death, seeing that they had to invent a new conspiracy to
ruin her. {Cf. Teulet, V., 466.)
Thirdly, since Mary denied having conceived the project of killing
Elizabeth, the original, or at least an authentic copy, of her reply ought
to have been shown her. People had no right to condemn her without
convicting her, and it was not possible to convict her save by her own
words. It was in vain to allege Babington's confession; the rash young
man was dead, and any words could be put into his mouth, as had been
done for Edmonston, eighteen months before, in Edinburgh. Since to
confront them was impossible, and since the articles in evidence were in
the hands of the accusers, why did they show the originals of the other
letters, and a copy only of the most important of all ?
"All the other letters of Curie, Morgan, Nau, Gifford and others, in these intricate doings,
have been preserved, and generally with the decipher ; but this letter, the most important of all,
on which, indeed, the whole question turned, is a copy." — Tytler, IV., 126.
Why, for want of other means, not have called Phelipps to bear
witness, on his oath and before Mary, that the copy was the exact
reproduction of the cypher ? The answer is easily found ; an expla-
nation would have brought to the ground the frail scaffolding, and
according to the figurative language of Phelipps, people would have
DISSERTATION III.
253
seen "how the wind got through." {Lingard.) Therefore, nothing
proves that the letter was such as the copy makes it out for us.
Fourthly, in the letter we read :
"les plainctes (des catholiques) pourront servir
fort d propos pour fonder et establir une asso-
ciation et confdd&ation gdndrale entre vous
tous, comme pour vostre juste deffense et con-
servation de vostre relligion, vies, terras et
possessions, centre I'oppression et entreprinses
desdits puritains, sans rien toucher directe-
ment par escript, rien qui puisse estre au pre-
judice de la Royne ; a la preservation de la
quelle et de ses legitimes hdritiers (ne faisant
toutesfois en ce point aucune mention de moy)
vous ferez plustost semblant d'estre tr^s affec-
tionnez. Ces choses estant ainsy pr^parees, et
les forces, tant dedans que dehors le royaulme,
toutes prestes, il faudra \alors tnettre les six
gentilshomme en besoigne et\ donner ordre que
\leur desseing estant effectui^ je puisse quant
et quant, estre tirde hors d'icy, et que toutes
voz forces soynt en ung mesmes temps en
campaigne pour me recevoir pendant qu'on
attendra le secours estranger, qu'il fauldra
alors haster en toute dilligence. \0r, d'aultant
gu'on ne peust constituer ung jour prefix pour
r accomplissement de ce que les diets gentils-
hommes ont entreprins, je vouldrois qu'ilz
eussent tousjours aupris d'eulx, ou pour le
moings en cour, quatre vaillans homines bien
monies pour donner adiiis en toute dilligence
du succez dudict desseing, aussytost qu'il sera
effectud, a ceulx qui auront charge de me tirer
hors d'icy, afin de s'y pouvoir transporter
avant que mon gardien soyt adverty de ladicte
execution, ou, a tout le moings, avant qu'il ayt
le loisir de se fortifier dedans la maison, ou de
m.e transporter ailleurs. II seroy ndcessaire
qu'on envoy ast deux ou trois de ces diets adver-
lisseurs par divers chemins, afin que, I'ung
venant d. faillir, I' autre puisse passer oultre j
et il fauldroyt en un mesme instant essay er
d'empescher les passages ordinaires aux pastes
et aux courriers."^
" C'est le project que je trouve le plus k
propos pour ceste entreprinse, afin de la con-
duire avecq esgards de nostre propre seuret^.
De s'esmouvoir de ce costd devant que vous
soyez asseurds d'ung bon secours estrangier,
ne seroyt que vous mettre, sans aulcun propos,
en dangier de participer k la miserable fortune
d'aultres qui ont par cydevant entreprins sur
ce suject ; et de me tirer hors d'icy sans estre
"the complaints (of the Catholics) may serve
you very suitably to found and establish an
association and general confederation between
you all, for your just defence and the preserva-
tion of your religion, lives, lands and posses-
sions, against the oppression and undertakings
of the said Puritans, vi^ithout mentioning any-
thing directly in writing, anything which could
be to the prejudice of the Queen ; in the
preservation of whom and of whose heirs
(making however no mention of me on that
point) you will rather pretend to be much
interested. Matters being so arranged, and
the forces, both within and without the king-
dom, quite ready, it will be necessary [then to
set six gentlemen to work and~\ give orders that
\their design being effected'] I may at once
be drawn from here, and that all your forces
be at one time in the field to receive me while
waiting for foreign aid, which it will then be
necessary to hurry on. \J^ow, in as m.uch as
one cannot fix a certain day for the carrying
out of what the said gentlejnen have under-
taken, I should like them to have always ready
beside them, or at least in the yard, four brave
men well m-ounted to give advice in all haste
of the success of the said design as soon as
carried out, to those whose duty it will be to
get me out of here, in order that they may come
hither before my keeper be warned of the said
plan being carried out, or, at least before he
have time to strengthen himself in the house or
take me elsewhere. It would be necessary to
send two or three of those messengers by differ-
ent routes, so that, should one fail, the other
may get through; and it would be necessary to
try to stop at the same time the usual passages
for posting and couriers."]
" That is the project that I find most suited
for that undertaking, in order to conduct it
with regard for our own safety. To move in
that direction before you are assured of good
foreign help would be only to place yourselves,
without any reason, in danger of sharing the
wretched fortune of others who have before
undertaken a similar object ; and to take me
from here without being first certain that you
could place me in the middle of a good army,
or in some place of safety, until our forces were
gathered and the foreigners arrived, would be
254
DISSERTATION III
only affording that Queen sufficient grounds,
if she caught me again, to shut me up in some
dungeon out of which I could never get, if even
I could escape at that price, and to persecute
to the bitter end those who helped me, which
would grieve me more than any mishap that
might befall me."
premi^rement bien asseurez de me pouvoir
mettre au milieu d'une bonne armde ou en
quelque lieu de seuretd, jusques k ce que* noz
forces fussent assemblies et las estrangiers
arrives, ne seroyt que donner assds d'occasion
^ ceste Royne Ik si elle me prenoyt de rechef,
de m'enclorre en quelque foss^ d'oii je ne
pourrois jamais sortir, si pour le moings j'en
pouvois eschaper k ce prix-lk, et de persdcuter
avecq toute extrdmit^ ceulx qui m'auroynt
assist^, dent j'auroys plus de regret que d'ad-
versit^ quelconque qui me pourroyt eschoir k
moy mesmes." — Prince Labanoff, VI., 388-
390-
People wonder how Elizabeth could seize her, seeing that she
was to be put to death, and that in the terms themselves of the
letter, the attempt at escape was to take place only after " le desseing"
that is to say, the murder " estant effectud" There is a clear contradic-
tion, which the rest of the letter confirms. The last reflection of Mary :
" c'est le project que je trouve le plus a propos," is evidently out of
place. What is that project ? According to the text of the letter, it
would be the murder. The sentence following clearly shows that such
is not the question :
" De s'esmouvoir, etc., ne seroyt que vous " To move, etc., would be only to place your-
mettre en danger de participer k la mis&able selves in danger of sharing the wretched
fortune d'aultres qui ont par cy devant entre- fortune of others who have before undertaken
prins sur ce sujecL" a similar object."
No person had before then leagued to kill Elizabeth, many, on the
contrary, had risen " esmus," in the north especially. The question
then is only of an insurrection coinciding with the invasion.
Leaving out then the work of the forger, Mary's sentence reads
thus :
" Les choses estant ainsy prdpardes, et les
forces, tant dedans que dehors le royaulme,
toutes prestes, il fauldra donner ordre que je
puisse, quant et quant, estre tired hors d'icy, et
que toutes voz forces soyntenung mesmes temps
en campaigne pour me recevoir pendant qu'on
attendra le secours estranger, qu'il fauldra alors
haster en toute dilligence."
" C'est le project que je trouve le plus k
propos pour ceste entreprinse, afin de la con-
duire avecq esgard de nostre propre seuretd.
De s'esmouvoir de ce costd devant que vous
soyez asseurds d'ung bon secours estrangier,
ne seroyt que vous mettre, sans aulcufi propos,
en dangler de participer k la miserable fortune
d'aultres qui ont par cy devant entreprins sur
" Matters being so arranged, and the forces
both within and without the kingdom, quite
ready, it will be necessary to give orders that
I may at once be drawn from here and that all
your forces be at one time in the field to receive
me, while waiting for foreign aid, which it will
then be necessary to hurry on."
" That is the project that I find most suited
for that undertaking, in order to conduct it
with regard for our own safety. To move in
that direction before you are assured of good
foreign help would be only to place yourselves
without any reason, in danger of sharing the
wretched fortune of others who have before
undertaken a similar object ; and to take me
from here without being first certain that you
DISSERTATION III. 255
ce suject ; et de me tirer hors d'icy sans estre could place me in the middle of a good army,
premiferement bien asseurez de me pouvoir or in some place of safety, until our forces were
mettre au milieu d'une bonne arm^e, ou en gathered and the foreigners arrived, would be
quelque lieu de seuretd, jusques k ce que noz only affording that Queen sufficient grounds,
forces fussent assemblies et les estrangiers if she caught me again, to shut me up in some
arrivdes, ne seroyt que donner assds d'occasion dungeon out of which I could never get, if even
k ceste Royne Ik, si elle me prenoyt de rechef, I could escape at that price, &c."
de m'enclorre en quelque fossd d'ou je ne
pourrois jamais sortir, si pour le moings j'en
pouvois eschaper k ce prix Ik, etc.''
The ideas which the hand of the forger had disconnected, and put in
contradiction, resume their natural connection. A letter from Burghley,
printed in the collection of Henry Ellis, giving an account of Mary
Stuart's attitude, confirms what I have advanced.
" She cold say nothyng but negatyvely, that the poynts of the lettres that concerned the
practise against the Q. Ma''s person was never by Mr wryiten tior of her knolledg, the rest,
for invasion, for scapyng by force, she sayd she wold nether deny nor affirm." — H. Ellis, I.,
iii/, 12.
The letter, studied logically, already led to that result ; nothing
better could be wished.
In 1842 Mr Lemon discovered at the State Paper Office a cyphered
postscript to Mary's letter, in which she asked Babington for the names
of his accomplices, and how they were to act. As the postscript exists,
it must have been written by Mary or by a forger ; if it is authentic,
how is it the letter to Babington was handed to Nau and Curie without
it, and that it was never mentioned in Mary Stuart's trial ? It was
however an overwhelming proof against Mary. In the absence of the
minute of the letter* which the ministers said was lost, that document
which they had in hand was of terrible weight against her. If they
did not mention it, that was because they knew its value better that
anyone.
Camden says . —
" Ita interceptse erant illse priores Reginae " They intercepted the first letters from
Scotorum ad Babingtonum, ejusdem ad illam Mary to Babington, the answers of the latter
responsoriae et alterse ad eum quibus subdole and the continuation of the correspondence to
additum eodem charactere postscriptum ut which was cheatingly added a postscript of
nomina sex nobilium ederet, si non alia." — III., the same cypher, that he should give the
430. names of the six gentlemen and perhaps
something else."
Such a notorious forgery directly clears the prisoner of the crime
imputed to her, for if the original letter contained the particulars we
find in the copy, why should the authors of the postscript ask what the
letter already contained, " particularly how they proceed ? " The letter
destroys the postscript — the postscript the letter. It is then fair to
256 DISSERTATION III.
admit that the postscript was struck out as too glaring, and that they
put in the body of the letter what could not be added on at the end.
That is why the French minute of Nau, the original English cypher of
Curie, and the decyphering of that document made at Chartley " dis-
appeared never to be found, while all the other letters which Mary
Stuart wrote on the same day are still either at the State Paper Office,
or among Cecil's papers." {Prince Ladanoff, VI. 398).
The question of time also turns against the forgers. On the 1 7th
the letter is given to Gififord ; on the 1 8th he gives it to Powley ; on
the 20th a copy of it is addressed to Walsingham. On the 26th
Phelipps takes the original to London ; he gives it on the 26th to Wal-
singham, and at length, on the 29th, the letter is handed to Babington
by an .unknown hand. {Babington to Mary, 2,d Atigust, State Paper
Office, Mary, Queen of Scots). Walsingham had therefore in his hands,
at one and the same time, the copy and the original, while he had also
the necessary time to alter them both.
III. — THE CONFESSIONS OF THE SECRETARIES.
A minute of Phellips, printed in the Hardwicke Papers (I., 236, 237),
states that the secretaries, Nau and Curie, confessed, in their last
examination, that Mary had really lent a hand in Babington's attempt at
the life of Elizabeth, and that the passage relating to the six gentlemen
was authentic.
As there remains in the world only that minute of Phelipps, I
declare at once that I have no other version to oppose to that of the
English agent to give him the lie. Yet : ist, I am chary of that declara-
tion, because the English ministers, in addition to their forgeries, had
said, at the end of August, to the ambassador of France, that Nau and
Curie had confessed " more than was wanted," and " that they had
acknowledged and confessed all," {Egerton, 76, 78), when it is certain
that at that time they had confessed nothing ; 2dly, I reject it, because
it is contrary to the authentic documents.
Until the ist of September, the secretaries confessed nothing that
could compromise their mistress. On the 2d, they were examined, but
their confessions were confined to acknowledging that Curie had trans-
lated into English, and put in cypher, three French letters, which Nau
had, in obedience to Mary's orders, written to Babington.
Those confessions were judged of so little importance, that on the
4th of September, the ministerial clique, not knowing how to wring the
tridh from the secretaries, bethought itself of several means.
DISSERTATION III. 257
According to Burghley, they ought to be reassured as to their own
fate :
"Assure them of safety,'' wrote the Minister to Christr. Hatton, "and then we shall have
the whole truth from them They will yield in writing somewhat to confirm their mistress's
crime, if they were persuaded that themselves might scape, and the blow fall upon their mistress,
betwixt her head and her shoulders." — Tytler.
Walsingham was of that opinion, and carrying generosity further,
he said of Curie :
" I took upon me to put him in comfort of favour, in case he would deal plainly." — Idem.
According to Phehpps, on the contrary, the secretaries ought to
be told that they deserved to be hanged as accomplices in the
Babington attempt, and ought to be driven through fear, to accuse their
Queen. It is with that object in view that he drew up his " Extract
of the points contained in the minutes, written by Nau and Curie,
arguing their privity, to the enterprise of the Catholics and to their
mistress's plot." In that extract taken from the originals, are found the
chief particulars concerning the Spanish invasion and Mary's project
of flight, and, strange to say, not a word about the murder. Phelipps
needed to get up a second work to bring in the secretaries.
" This paper," says Tytler, very properly, " appears to me, from its admissions and omis-
sions, to be almost conclusive in establishing the innocence of Mary."— IV., 337.
On the 5th and 6th of September, the letters to Babington were pre-
sented to the secretaries separately. The first two were recognised
without hesitation, but in reference to that of the 17th of July, their
language was strangely timid.
Babington, examined previously to them, had written :
"C'est la copie des lettres de la Royne " It is the copy of the letters of the Queen of
d'Escosse demierement k moy envoydes." Scots, lately sent to me."
Nau said merely :
" Je pense de vray que c'est la lettre escripte " I think, in truth, that it is the letter written
par sa Majesty k Babington, comme il me by her Majesty to Babington, as far as I can
souvient." remember."
And Curie :
" Telle ou semblable me semble avoir est^ la " Such, or something like it, seems to me to
response." have been the reply."
Those proofs again seemed so weak to the ministers, that instead
of remaining satisfied with them, they went on seeking other confessions,
and thus greatly injured their case.
" I thynk Curl will be more oppen, and yet Nau hath amply confessed, by his hand wrytyng,
to have wrytten by the Queen's endyting and hir own minut yt long lettre to Babyngton." —
Burghley to Walsingham, Ellis, I., iii., 5.
VOT,. II. 2 K
25 8 DISSERTATION III.
The same minister, again, tells us that
" Nau offred, on Tewsday, to have oppened much, and in stead therof, he hath only wrytten to
have a pardon as yesterday, because it was the Queen's byrth day." — EUis I. ii. 5.
Despairing of getting anything further, the ministers sounded in the
ears of the secretaries, the threat of the Tower. That dreadful pro-
spect drove Nau to write to Elizabeth. In his note, the secretary
swears to God to tell the truth ; he describes, at great length, the
impression made upon the Queen when reading Babington's letter ; her
displeasure, and her wish to get free by the help of a foreign invasion,
but, adds the secretary :
" sans se mesler aucune7nent dii troisieme point " without meddhng, in any way, with the third
(the assassination) ; ne s'estimant, ^s termes point ; thinking that in her position towards
ou elle se croyoit, estre obligee de le reveller, Elizabeth, she was not obliged to reveal a con-
n'estant chose par elle onques desiree, inveJiUe, spiracy which she had neither desired, thought
ni practiguee." — Prince Labanoff. of, proposed nor carried out."
That declaration, made willingly to the Queen of England herself,
destroys the importance which might be attached to the signature
affixed to the letter of the 6th of September, and clearly shows that the
secretaries, in their postscript, did not mean to speak of the murder.
The ministers knew that very well ; for while noising abroad that the
secretaries had confessed and acknowledged everything, they endeav-
oured to wring from them some false testimony. Walsingham wrote
to Curie :
" You do forget the favour you have received by my mediation that, which you have
confessed is no more that, w^iich you saw no reason to denye, when you found yourself charged
by your fellow, Naue."
They encouraged him to be more open, so that he might deserve the
good graces of Elizabeth. Walsingham to Curie (without date) Sept-
ember, State Paper Office ; Mary, Queen of Scots.
The day after Babington's death, the secretaries were brought
before the Council ; an extract, giving the principal points of the letters,
was read to them, and if we are to believe the minute of Phelipps,
they acknowledged all those points. Lingard says it is doubtful
whether they included in those answers the passages relating to the
murder (III., 15) ; perhaps, also, the minute was corrected afterwards :
it is certain, however, that it contains an error of fact which the secre-
taries could not have made. Nau constantly affirmed that he had
written the letter on a minute of the Queen, and Walsingham had that
minute sought for. How is it that, in the examination of the 21st, Nau
declares that he heard, from the Queens mouth, the chief points of the
DISSERTATION III. 259
letter to Babington : either Phelipps' account is false, or Nau no longer
knew what he was saying.
If, moreover, the secretaries had confessed the thing so clearly, they
would most likely have been confronted with Mary, at the Fotheringay
trial. Why was it not so ? Why did the ministers then quote only
the last examination, of which they were the only witnesses, without
taking into account the previous, denials of the secretaries, and without
making them confirm in public, those last concessions ? It cannot be
denied that there is something decidedly suspicious in the affair.
Brought up at Westminster, only on the 25th of October, the secre-
taries adhered to their previous confessions, but at the same time they
gave a strong denial to the minute of Phelipps when they asserted, despite
Walsingham's threats, that the chief counts of the indictment charging
their mistress were " false, slanderous, and made up," declaring that the
commissioners should have to answer before God and the Christian
Princes if they condemned, on charges so false, a Sovereign Queen,
and calling upon them to register their reply. {Nau, Apology addressed
to James VI., quoted in Lingard, III., 26, note ; Miss Strickland, V.,
443, note, analysed briefly in Ca7nden, III., 465.)
Curie died protesting the Queen's innocence. {Lingard and Miss
Strickland, loc. cit.) Nau lived only to assert it before the v/orld ; and
in 1 605 he appealed, for the truth of his declaration, to the remembrance
of all the lords and gentlemen who were then alive and had been
present at his examination. (Naus Apology)
If, in truth, the secretaries had spoken otherwise before the judges,
it would follow that they must have contradicted themselves, and that
if their evidence was to be taken into account, that which they expressed
freely was alone to be considered. We have not a line in the hand-
writing of the secretaries against Mary Stuart : all that they have left
us is favourable to her. Their enemies pretend that they charged her :
I have shown that the testimony of the ministers was doubtful on the
whole and false on one capital point. One thing is proved : that Nau
wrote to Elizabeth that Mary Stuart was innocent, and that he said the
same all his life, and that Curie at his death expressed the same feeling.
Doubtful testimony is of no avail against certainty.
From Mary's feelings towards Elizabeth, from the falseness of the
documents produced, and from the confessions of the secretaries, I con-
clude that Mary is innocent.
PROOFS.
PRINCIPAL GRIEVANCES WHICH WEIGHED ON THE CATHOLICS OF ENGLAND.
Extract from the Remonstrance au Roy d'Angleterre, 1628.
" Tout catholique doit prester serment que la Reyne, ses heritiers et successeurs sent chefs
de I'Eglise, et k faute de prester ce serment sont declarez criminels de leze Majest^.
"Tous ceux qui n'assisteront aux Eglises des Protestans payeront dix sols tous les
Dimanches qu'ils y manqueront.
" Tous ceux qui demeureront des mois entiers sans aller aus-dites Eglises protestantes
payeront au Roy pour chaque mois deux cens liures, et au cas qu'ils n'ayent point de reuenu
suffisant pour payer ladite somme, ou qu'ils ne la payent point au terme prefix, le Roy prendra
les deux tiers du reuenu des terres de tels Catholiques et tous leurs bien meubles, et au cas
aussi que les deux tiers du reuenu des terres desdits Catholiques montent plus que la somme de
deux cens liures par mois, le Roy conuertira cela a son profit si bon luy semble, et ne se contentera
point desdites deux cens liures par mois.
" Tous ceux qui n'yront point k I'Eglise protestante par I'espace d'vn an seront obligez auec
caution de payer la somme de deux mil liures, en se comportans comme ils dbiuent, c'est a dire,
pourueu qu'ils n'entendent point la Messe, ny ne facent aucun exercice de la Religion catholique.
Car ce faisant les-dits deux cens liures sont confisquez au Roy et doiuent deux fois I'annde
renouueler leur obligation.
" Tous ceux qui entendront la Messe payeront au Roy pour chaque fois six cejis soixante et
trois liures.
" Tous ceux qui auront chez eux des Maistres pour instruire leurs enfans lesquels n'yront
point k I'Eglise protestante payeront cent liures par mois pour eux et autant pour chacun des-
dits maistres, lesquels sont declarez incapables d'instruire cy-aprfes gt k tout jamais des enfans,
et seront detenus prisonniers I'espace d'un an.
" Deffences sont faictes k tout maistre d'Eschole de demeurer chez auguns catholiques, et k
ceux-cy de les admettre en leurs maisons, sous peine de payer au Roy vingt liures par jour pour
eux et lesdits maistres.
" Tous ceux de qui les biens seront confisquez, et qui n'auront point de quoy satisfaire aux
payemens portez par I'Edict seront constituez prisonniers.
" Tous ceux qui se feront Prestres de delk la Mer, et qui retourneront puis apr&s dans le
Royaume d'Angleterre seront traictez comme criminels de leze Majestd.
" Tous ceux qui regoiuent tels Prestres chez eux, qui leur administrent des viures, ou qui par
charitd leur donnent aucun secours seront declarez attaints du crime de felonnie et seront mis k
mort ; tous leurs biens acquis et confisquez au profit du Roy.
"Tous ceux qui orront (entendront) quelqu' vn en confession, ou qui se seront eux mesmes
reconciliez, et qui persuaderont k vn protestant d'embrasser la Religion catholique seront
criminels de leze Majestd '
" Tous contracts, alienations et ventes de terres et heritages des Catholiques pour empescher
et preuenir les confiscations port&s par les Loix desusdites, soit directement ou indirectement
seront nuls, inualides et sans que les Catholiques en puissent espdrer aucune chose k leur profit.
PROOFS. 261
" Tous Catholiques se doient contenir chez eux, et ne s'en esloigner plus de deux lieues et
demie, sous peine de confiscation de leurs biens meubles et perte du reuenu de leurs terres leur
vie durant.
" Tous ceux qui n'ont pas beaucoup k perdre doiuent vuider le Royaume, ce que ne faisans
point, on qu'ils retournent apres sans permission expresse, seront iugez criminals et perdront
la vie.
" Tous ceux qui retiennent chez eux h. leur seruice aucuns qui n'aillent point k I'Eglise pro-
testante, payeront au Roy mil liures par chaque mois.
" Quiconque descouurira vn Catholique, ou decelera quelque chose qu'il ait faite centre les
susdites Loix, encore qu'il fust luy mesme coulpable, si est-ce que comme ddlateur il luy sera
pardonn^, et aura pour recompense sur les biens confisquez la somme de deux cens liures, et au
cas que les biens confisqu^s soient de peu de valeur, il aura la tierce partie de tout le bien con-
fisqud.
" Nul de la Religion catholique ne sera admis k aucune charge que ce soit dans le Royaume,
ni mesme ceux qui ne sont point Catholiques, si leurs femmes ou leurs enfants le sont.
" Nul Catholique ne sera Seneschal, Aduocat, Greffier, ny Officier aux Cours particuliferes,
ny ne sera non plus Medecin, ny Apoticaire, ny Capitaine, Lieutenant ou Caporal.
" Nul Catholique estant Seig. de fief ; et ayant droict de patrounage pour presenter aux
Benefices ne le pourra faire : mais les Euesques seulement.
" Nul Catholique ne peut estre executeur ny administrateur du testament d'autrui ny tuteur
des pupiles.
" Toutes armes doiuent estre ostdes aux Catholiques.
"Tous liures Catholiques, Reliques, Images et Chapelets ne doiuent estre permis aux
Catholiques.
'•' Toutes les maisons des Catholiques peuuent estre fouill^es par deux Juges ordinaires, ou
par les Preuosts, ou autres officiers toutes et quantes fois qu'il leur plaira pour faire recherche
des Prestres, et se saisir de la personne des Catholiques, lesdits officiers pouuans rompre les
portes et appeler le secours de peuple en cas de resistance.
" Chaque Catholique est tenu pour excommunid, et ne luy permis de poursuiure aucun pro-
ems pour debtes, iniures, ou autres choses.
" Toutes les cours Ecclesiastiques ont pouuoir de proceder contre les Catholiques comme
elles auoient autresfois contre les H^r^tiques.
" Nul Catholique ne sera enterrd dans les Eglises ou cimetiferes k cause qu'il est excom-
muni^ sous peine des censures Ecclesiastiques contre tous les assistans, et si I'on enterre le corps
ailleurs ceux qui le feront faire payeront au Roy deux cens liures.''
Extract from a letter of Cervin, written from London in 1581, to
Alphonso Agazar, Superior of the English College, Rome.
" Je n'aurois jamais fait, si j'entreprenois de vous raconter le zhlt et I'ardeur des Catholiques.
Quand un Pretre les vient voir, ils le saluent comme un etranger et un inconnu ; aprfes, ils le
mfenent dans quelque lieu retire oil ils ont plac^ leur oratoire ; Ik, ils se jettent humblement k
genoux et regoivent sa b&ddiction. lis luy demandent ensuite combien il demeurera parmi eux,
car ils voudroient qu'il ne les quittat jamais. S'il leur dit qu'il ne peut demeurer que jusques au
lendemain, parce qu'un plus long s^jour pourroit ^tre dangereux, ils se confessent d^s le soir
meme, et le lendemain aprfes avoir entendu la Messe, ils recoivent I'Eucharistie. Le sermon
fini le Pretre leur donne encore la benediction, puis il se retire, et pour I'ordinaire plusieurs
jeunes gentilshommes I'accompagnent. Tous les Catholiques aussi bien que les premiers
Chretiens, ont des caches secrettes ou les Pretres se peuvent derober k la recherche et k la
violence des' Archers, mais enfin, avec le temps et par la trahison de quelques faux frferes, elles
ont 6ti presque toutes ddcouvertes. Aux attaques de nuit, les fiddles s'enfuyent dans les forets
et dans les cavernes. Quelquefois, lorsque nous sommes k table, ou selon notre coutume nous
nous entretenons des affaires de la foy et du salut, s'il arrive que I'on heurte k la porte assez
rudement pour faire croire que ce sont des Archers, chacun prete aussitot I'oreille, comme le
262 PROOFS.
cerf qui a entendu la voix du chasseur; on se recommande k Dieu; on ne mange plus; on
n'entend pas le moindre bruit jusqu' k ce que les domestiques aient rapportd ce que c'est. S'il n'y
a rien k craindre, cette vaine frayeur augmente encore notre joie : certainement, c'est de nous
que Ton peut dire, que nos imes sont toujours dans nos mains. . . .
" Notre ami Poundus a 6t6 arrete k Londres et y est gardd dans un cachot pour avoir parld
trop librement centre les ministres et les avoir ddfiez d'entrer en conference avec des prtees
Catholiques; ce que irrite dtrangement nos adversaires. II est couchd k terre dans un cachot
ou le jour n'entre point, on I'a meme charg^ de chaines ; cependant par adresse, ces jours passez,
11 me fit tenir une lettre aussi gaye que s'il ^toit au milieu des divertissemens. Par la meme
voye que j'avois regu sa lettre, je luy envoyay la sainte Eucharistie qu'il me demandoit. Le
pretre dont je me servis pour ce pieux office n'ayant pas suivi exactement les ordres de Poundus
pour s'introduire dans la prison fut decouvert et arretd, depuis il s'est echappd par une espfece de
miracle.
" L'Eveque de Lincoln, I'Abbd de Westminster et quelques autres, aprfes avoir souffert k
Londres une prison de plusieurs ann^es, sont maintenant enfermez au meme lieu que Poundus ;
Ton doit les transf&er au chateau de Visbic lieu fort mal sain, et en confier la garde k un Puri-
tain brutal ; Tincommodit^ de la prison et les mauvais traitemens de ce barbare consumeront
bientot le reste des forces de ces venerables vieillards. Hormis la Bible, on leur a 6t6 toutes
sortes de livres, jusqu'k leurs &rits et leurs propres remarques. Des ministres insolens vont
quelquefois les surprendre et les couvrir d'injures ; ils en publient aprfes des fables ridicules
qu'ils font meme imprimer dans leurs livres, pour diminuer la reputation de ces saints person-
nages, qui est fort grande dans I'esprit des peuples. Le mois pass^ Ton enferma k leur insgu
une femme impudique dans leur prison, afin que Ton parlit mal de leur continence."
II.
DID MARY STUART RECEIVE THE SACRAMENT BEFORE HER DEATH }
Likely, for in her letter to the Pope, she says that she should have
liked to receive " ses ditz sacrements," and in that which she wrote to
her almoner, she also speaks of " recevoir son sacrement." {Prince
Labanoff, VI., 451, 483).
Mendo9a says that the King of France assured him :
" Este Rey afirma haverse comulgado aquella noche, por haver alcangado licencia di Su
Santidad, aiios ha, para poder entretener cerca de si el Santissimo Sacramento, y hallarse clerigo
con ella."— Mendoga to Philip ll.—Teulet; Supplem. au Prince Labanoff, 377, and V., 490.
Hilarion de Coste, whose relations with Rome must have procured
for him positive information, writes :
" Le iour de son martyre, elle se communia : car ne luy estant pas permis de voir son
Aumosnier ou son confesseur, et par consequent se voyant priude de I'vsage des Sacremens
elle auoit obtenu du Pape Pie V. de Sainte mdmoire, par vn special priuilege de se communier
soy-mesme, afin de n'estre pas priude de se salutaire Viatique : et sous main on luy faisoit tenir
des boetes pleines d'Hosties consacrdes." — Eloges des Dames Illustres, IL, 520.
Brantome {Discours sur Marie Stuart, and J ebb, II., 489), and
Conn. {Ibid. 41), &c., relate the same fact as a certainty, and do not
seem to suppose there can be any doubt about it. I have followed that
opinion, though the contrary be not unlikely.
PROOFS. 263
III.
CAUSES OF THE DEATH OF MARY STUART.
In reference to the condemnation of Mary Stuart, Puffendorf makes
the following reflection : —
" II y eut beaucoup d'irrdgularitds dans cette procedure ; premi&remetit en ce qu'on avoit
ddjk fait mourir trois hommes, sur le temoignage des quels on prdtendoit convaincre la Reine :
secondement en ce qu'on ne lui confronta jamais ses secretaires qui ^taient en vie. Comme il
n'dtait pas possible de prouver qu'elle eut eu part k la dernifere conjuration, on I'accusa sur
d'autres griefs, qui, cependant, n'etoient pas capables de la faire condamner. Mais il y avoit
longtemps giie sa mart Hoit resohie." — Introduction d. I'Histoire, III., 241.
To clear Elizabeth only two reasons can be brought forward : —
i.$-^. Mary Stuart was constantly endangering her government which
the partisans of the Queen of Scots tried several times to overthrow
for the good of their mistress ; their zeal went so far as to form con-
spiracies without the consent even of her for whom they acted. There
was only one way to end those ever-recurring attempts, and that was
to put to death, guiltless or guilty, her who was the cause of them.
That idea inspired the act of Association.
That reason, however, is not admissible, because Mary had offered
Elizabeth serious guarantees, such as even to withdraw to France and
there live peacefully on her dowry. Elizabeth refused all the advances
made to her. By the dogged stubbornness of her pretensions, she
drove the partisans of that unhappy Queen to extreme measures ;
injustice begot conspiracies.
2dly. The Government and the English people, knowing Mary's
zeal for Catholicism, and her settled purpose of bringing back, by fair
means or foul, the old faith to the island, feared again to belong to a
creed of which Mary Tudor had shown them only the rigours.
" If the inheritaunce of the kingdome shall come vnto her, who doubteth that there will
follow a greate innovation in the comonwealth of England, and a lamentable overthrow of
religion. And they who shall persever in the confession of true godlines the best refuge that
they can have is to be accounted infamous, wandering with their children, full of calamitie, in
the end to be starved through want of which miseries there have been sorrowful! instructiones
while Queen Maria reigned." — A Politick Dispiitatione, University of Edinburgh, a copy, 2.
Thence arose that lurking hatred against Mary Stuart — thence that
thirst for her blood. The majority of the English did not think them-
selves cruel, but just, when asking that one person alone should be
sacrificed to make safe the general peace. Elizabeth made that instinct
of preservation on the part of her people, as it were, the mainspring of
264 PROOFS.
her policy ; what in the people was a conviction, in Elizabeth was a
calculation ; in both, a necessity.
The massacre of St Bartholomew showed 'the true state of matters..
Though it was evident that the Queen of Scots could not be aware of a
thing plotted in darkness, and so secretly that even those familiar with
the Court knew nothing about it, people in England flew to the greatest
excesses ; she was preached against, and her death was publicly asked
for; there was a talk of holding a Parliament to bring that about;
Killigrew was sent to Scotland to negotiate her death. Presbyterian
Scotland sided with England against Mary, and what was her crime ?
Her religion, which her rank and her birth caused to be dreaded.
i^PhilarSte Chasles, Marie Stuart, 76.)
The rage of Sandys, Bishop of London, threw that of all others
into the shade ; he proposed among other things :
" to cutte of the Scottish Quenes heade : ipsa est nostri fundi calamitas."
And again :
" The protestants which onlie are faithfull subjectes are to be comforted, preferred, and
placed in autoritie, the Papistes to be displaced. Theese put in execution, wold twrne to
Goddes glory the saftie of the Quene's Ma''^ and make the Realme florishe and stande." —
Ellis, II., iii., 25.
That blind rage against the Catholics, and against Mary in particular,
made the Countess of Northumberland say :
" Audebunt, nisi citissime provideatur, in ejus corpus soevire, cujus famam tot libellis jam
lacerarunt." — Tettlet, II., 441.
The loud and deep cry for Mary's blood is clearly to be seen in the
" Disputation " quoted above. In that document, to all appearances
written by Buchanan himself immediately after the massacre of the
24th of August 1572, Mary Stuart's death is asked for in the name of
religion, in very clear terms :
" Notwithstandinge there is in. this cause a consideration and circumstance of that conse-
quence as cannot be found in any other example, which prohibiteth the Queen (Elizabeth) to use
mercie, because it is joined to the manifest contempt of God ; for it is no slight conspiracie
that is cauled in question which should effect a chainge onlie of the state but that which
would whoUie overthrow the state of religion, in which cause princes cannot pardon injuries
attempted towards God and accordinge to their pleasure remitt as light matters those hainous
attempts which tend to the subversion of their kingdome, vnles they will hazard their own heades
for other men's sinnes, altho' they may in their proper greife be as mylde and as gentle as
they will, and neglect the saftie and tranquillitie of the people committed to them by God.
For who is so blinde that he doth not evydentlie see if Steward's endeuor were not made
frustrate that thorowout England had ensued a horrible subversion of religion, which the con-
federacie of the Kinge of Spaine, and Duke d'Alba with the Pope manifestlie declare.'' ....
" Infinite discommodities follow want of punishment, to witt, just revenge and punishment
is denied to the subjects crauing it, the saftie of the people is neglected, and (what is more
PROOFS. 265
greuous) the defence of the Church of God is left desolate and unfaithfuUie forsaken." — A Poli-
tick Disputatio7ie, 23, 31.
We gather from that passage, that in 1572, Mary was to be ptmished,
because religion had to face dangers through her.
The prisoner knew well how she was hated by the Scottish Presby-
terians and the English Puritans ; she was prepared for anything at
their hands, and she had sooner meet death than forsake her favourite
idea. On the 3d of August 1577, Mary wrote to Doctor Allen :
" There is no particuler joye nor restitution nor advancement on earth that I desire, saveinge
onely the relief of the Catholique Church and fortitude thereof, to the universall florishinge and
restablishment of her faith and religion, but specially in this pore isle. To which ende if it shall
please him to make me serve in any thinge, I doe even nowe, as I have longe afore, dedicate and
abandon my life in a thowsand mo tormentes, and all I can have in this world thereunto, wishing
no greater felicitye and consolation then in that quarrell, to leave the miseryes of this wreched
vale." — Prince Labanoff, IV., 376.
The sentence bears that Mary Stuart, because she continually
endangered Elizabeth and her subjects, is condemned to death,
" as well for the cause of the Gospel and true religion of Christ, as for the peace of the whole
Reahne." — Jebb, 340.
Walsingham writing, by order of Elizabeth, to Paulet, to dispatch
the Queen of Scots, gives two reasons : ist, the danger that Elizabeth
runs, so long as the said Queen Mary shall live ; adly, the preservation
of religion. He does not say that Mary was found guilty, but that
Elizabeth was in great peril of her life, so long as Queen Mary should
be in this world.^ — Jebb, 407 ; Mackenzie, III., 340.
Kent, who told the prisoner her sentence, uttered a word, which is a
gleam of light, when he said to her :
" Tua vita exitium erit nostrae religionis, ut contra tuum exitium ejusdem erit vita." — Cam-
den, 490.
Mary Stuart congratulated herself, with good reason, on the violence
of the Earl, and answered that he brought her good news.
She sent a ring to Philip II.,
" por gaje de que moria por la religion Catholica Romana." — Teulet, Supplement au Prince
Labanoff, 390.
Catholic Europe looked upon her as a martyr. That name was
given her in Rome and in Paris, and it is cause of wonder when we see
the courtier, Brant6me, of the same opinion as Cardinals du Perron
and Bellarmin, and the historian, Eytzinger, going beyond them all,
and boldly exclaiming :
" Interfecerunt Sanctam 'D€\:'—MS., 96; "They have killed the Saint of God."
Hilarion de Coste, II., 523.
VOL. II. 2 L
266 PROOFS.
Many Catholics were condemned to the gibbet for trying to break
open her tomb to get relics {Sixtus V., MS. Papers, i8 verso, a copy).
At Antwerp, the following inscription was placed in the Cathedral :
ANNO MDLXVIII.
IN. ANG. RESVG. RELIGIONIS CAVSA QU^RENS
COGN. ELISAB. IVSSV. ET SENAT. H^RET
INVIDIA
POST XIX CAPTIVIT. ANNOS.
CAPITE OBTRVNE
MARTVRIUM CONSVMAVIT
ANNO DOM. MDLXXXVII
iETAT. ET. REG. XLV.
" It seems to me," says Prince Labanoff, " that such ought still to be the opinion of every
impartial historian, and I am happy to find it again in the learned continuation of the History of
England, by Mackintosh. This is how the author expresses himself on the subject." — Vol. III.,
328. " The great operating cause of the execution of the Queen of Scots, in the mind of Eliza-
beth's Council, was, doubtless, the security of the established religion, and Protestant succession
to the throne." — Prince Labanoff, VI ., 496.
IV.
JAMES VI. AND MARY STUART.
I do not examine here what were the relations between James VI.
and Mary. Her son wrote her many letters, some charming, and others
more or less wounding to the feelings, according to the time when they
were written. As the letters give, in my opinion, the feelings of those
around the young King rather than his own, I set no value upon them.
It is well known that the poor Prince had no more freedom than his
mother had : his tutor treated him shamefully. " A crabbed and wicked
old man," says Mr J. Gauthier, " was Buchanan, who beat and insulted
his royal pupil, and kept down, by a system of brutal intimidation, his
generous yearnings and the signs of his nature." (III., 109). Many his-
torians pretend that the sophist, James VI., allowed his mother to be
executed, without doing anything to save her, and that he showed less
grief after her death, than was becoming in a dutiful son. I do not try
to clear James VI ; that would be outside the limits of my subject. I
shall quote merely a few texts, which tend to soften the harshness of
the account given by those historians.
In October 1586, that Prince wrote to Gray (Spottiswoode, II., 353),
or to Archibald Douglas :
PROOFS. ^ 267
" Reserve up youre self na langer in the earnist dealing for my Mother, for ye have done it
to long ; and thinke not that any youre travellis can do goode, if her lyfe be taikin ; for then adew
with my dealing with thaime that are the speciall instrumentis thairof. And thair fore gif ye
looke for the contineuance of my fauoure touartis you, spaire na painis nor plainnes in this case,
hot reade my lettir, wrettin to Williame Keith, and conform your selfe quhoUie to the contentis
thairof ; and in this requeist, lett me reape the fruictis of youre great credit thaire, ather nou or
neuer." — Ellis, I., iii., 14.
In November, he wrote to Archibald Douglas :
" I perceyve by your last letters, the Quene, my mother contineweth still in that miserable
streyte that the pretended condemnation of that Parliament has putt her in. A strange example
in deed, and so very rare, as for my part, I never redd nor heard of the like practise in such a
case. I am sorry, that by my expectation, the Quene hath suffered this to procede so farre to
my dishonour, and so contrary to her good fame as by subjects mouth to condemne a Soveraigne
Prince discended of all hands of the best blood of Europe I am presentlye upon the direct-
ing of a very ambassade thither for the same purpose in which comission shalbe one man that
the Quene will well like of. ... . Gesse ye in what streyte my honour wilbe in, this unhappe
beyng perfected, synce bifore God I already darre skath goo abrode for crieng oute of the whole
people, and what ys spoken by them of the Quene of England, yt greves me to heare, and yet
darre not fynd faalte with yt except I would dethrone, so ys whole Scotland incensed with this
matter. As ye love your Master's honour, omitt no earnest diligence in this request." — State
Paper Office.
On the 26th of January 1587 he wrote to Elizabeth a letter in which
he said :
" Quhat thing, Madame, can greatlier touche me in honoure that bothe (is) a King and a
Sonne, then that my nearest neihboure being in straittest freindshippe with me shall rigoroushe
putt to death a free soueraigne Prince, and my naturall mother, alyke in estaite and sexe to hir
that so uses her, albeit subject I grant to a harder fortoune, and touching hir nearlie in proximitie
of bloode. Quhat law of Godd can permitt that justice shall strikke upon thaime, quhome he
hes appointid supreame dispensatouris of the same under him ; quhom he hath callid Goddis,
and thairfore subjectid to the censoure of none in earth ; quhose anointing by Godd can not be
defylid be man, unreuenged by the authoure thairof ; quho being supreme and immediatt lieu-
tenant of Godd in Heaven, can not thairfoire be judgit by thair oequallis in earth. Quhat
monstruouse thinge is it that Souueraigne Princes thaime selfis shoulde be the exemple giveris of
thair ouen sacred diademes prophaining. Then quhat shoulde moue you to this forme of pro-
ceiding (supponin the uorst, quhiche in goode faith I looke not for at youre handis) honoure or
profeitt ? Honoure uaire it to you, to spaire quhen it is least lookid for. Honoure uaire it to
you, (quhich is not onlie my freindlie aduyce but my earnist suite) to tak me and all other
Princes, in Europe eternally beholdin unto you in granting this my so reasonable request ; and
not (appardon I pray you my free speaking) to putt Princes to straittis of honoure quhair throuch
youre generall reputatione and the universall (all most) mislyking of you, may daingerouslie
perrell both in honoure and utillitie youre persoune and estate." — Ellis, I., iii., 20.
Almost at* the same date he causes Elizabeth to be told by his
ambassador :
" that both in respect of nature and honour, it concerned him to be revenged of so great an
indignity." — Spottiswoode, II., 350. Cf. Courcelles' Dispatches, 28.
After the death of Mary,
" some Scottismen," says Melville, " assured them, that the King hir sonne wald schone forzet
it. Albeit, his Maieste when he vnderstode of thir sorowfuU newes, tok hauy displescur, and
268 , PROOFS.
convenit ane parlement ; wherin he lamented the myshandling of the Quen, be his ennemys
that wer in England, desyring the assistance of his subiectis, to seak to be reuengit." — MelvilUs
Memoirs, 356.
" Mr George Young returned on the 23d of this month, and assured his Majesty that his
mother was executed. This put his Majesty into a very great displeasure and grief, so that he
want to bed that night without supper ; and on the morrow by seven o'clock went to Dalkeith,
there to remain solitary." — Moyse's Memoirs, 118.
" Retired to Dalketh with very smalle companye "greatly greeved with the death of his
mother, which he taketh infinitely at heart, as Courceles is informed. He thinketh the Kinge
would not be long from pursuinge the revenge, but that his povertie and estate is every way
suche as constraineth him to have patience till God and his good frendis doe give him meanes to
doe it." — Courcelles' Dispatches, 44.
In certain notes printed among the papers of the Master of Gray,
one reads :
" Wonders King James VI. should take so hainously the death of his Mother, as to meditate
revenge, being contrary to his interest and wisdom." — Gray's Papers, 135.
" [The Secretary] " wrote R. Carvyle to Walsingham, " shoulde write that the Kinge wolde
receyve no Embassadour as yet, partly by reason of his hevines and sorowynge for his mother,
and also for that he is not resolved that the Quenes Maiestie is so sory for his mother's death,
as he was informed she was." — Gray's Papers, 143 ; Ellis, II., iii., 118.
At the end of 1587 the King of France wrote to Courcelles :
" Le Roi d'Ecosse, mon neveu, porte fort aigrement et non sans raison cette extraordinaire
fagon de procedure et execution faite_contre la feue Reine sa m^re, comme il me I'a dcrit et fait ,
dire bien amplement par I'dveque de Glasgow, son ambassadeur par dega." — M. Chdruel, 172.
V.
WRITINGS AGAINST QUEEN ELIZABETH.
I speak what I believe truly when I say that that last persecution
of the English Catholics was due to the indiscretion of their co-
religionists on the Continent. Though I have but little esteem for the
Virgin Queen, I think she would not have gone so far had she not felt
wounded in her honour by pamphlets. ■ Any other person than Eliza-
beth, were she the gentlest in the world, would have been irritated at
less.
When Philip II. was fitting out the Invincible Armada, a Spanish
poet exclaimed
Muger de muchos y de muchos nuera :
O Reyna torpe ! Heina no ; mas loba
Lividinosa y fiera ! — M. Mignet.
At the same time a short treatise was prepared entitled " Avertise-
ment a la Noblesse et au peuple d'Angleterre et d'Irlande (Anvers
1588)," intended to be hawked about the Island, in which Elizabeth
PROOFS. 269
was called a bastard, the foul offspring of an incestuous intercourse
between Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn, his own daughter; a usurper
who, not satisfied with seizing upon a throne, claimed besides, the title,
profoundly ridiculous in her, of head of the Church ; a bloody persecutrix,
surrounded by spies and traitors ; a prostitute, a prey to the most dis-
gusting wantonness ; a debaucher of the youthful nobility of England,
and one living unmarried, the better to sate her filthy lust ; the instigatrix
of the conspiracies which have desolated Europe, &c. The conclusion
was that she must be got rid of at any price.
In the same year there was published at Guillaume Bichon's in
Paris, two laments on Mary Stuart. In the first, the poet retraces the
life and misfortunes of the unfortunate wife of Francis II., without too
much ill-using Elizabeth ; but he fully makes up for it in the second.
I take from that ode only two verses to show their bitterness ; there
are things which a well-bred reader could not bear :
" Ta mfere, fiUe de Henry
Qui fut son Fhre et son Mary
Te fist sa fille et sa germaine,
Ayant d'un chrestien hymen^
Le sainct honneur contamind
Par una souileure vilaine."
And this other :
" Vne vieille au peel grisonnant,
Au front de rides sillonnant,
Mettre le pied sur la poitrine,
Et le couteau sur le gosier
D'vne gent, qui ne sceut ployer
Dessous la puissance Latine ! "
He concludes that Elizabeth must be killed ; that the killing of her
is a good and honourable deed. This is his last verse :
" Que creint-on : et qu'est-ce qu' creint
D'entrependre Vn acte si sainct ?
Est-ce de perdre cete vie ?
" II ne faut craindre de mourir
" Pour une autre vie acqudrir
" Qui ne peut nous estre rauie."
Blackwood crowned that work of defamation by his poem : " De
Jezabelis Anglee parricidio," of which I give the conclusion.
" Te nothus imperio spoliat, notha sasvior illo
Vivere cognato sanguine pota solet.
lUe patris regno, regno haec te fraudat auito,
Iniustoque animam dissecat ense tuam,
Sic lepram meretrix insonti sanguine curat,
Sic satiat cancros pasta cruore suos.
170 PROOFS.
Sic parricidiis viuit meretricia proles
Ultores scelerum nee putat esse Deos.
Nee putat incesti pcenas nunc pendere patrem,
Eius adulteriis crimen abesse rata.
Qui salua duxit meretricem vxore, penates
Incestans natae coniugio patrios.
Juno Jouis soror et coniux erat : Anna Bolena
Et spuria Henrici filia, et vxor erat.
Noluit inferior Junone Bolena videri.
Sed studet incestu dum superare Jouem,
Nee patre pruritum veneris contenta marito
Compescit, fratris scandit at ilia thoros,
Spermate nee fratris tandem satiata recedit,
Sed corpus moechis publicat omnigenis,
Coniugis et patris iusto, cadit ense profanam
Infemis animam manibus adijciens.
Te natam neptemque patris scelerata reliquit
Stuprorum haeredem Jezabel et scelerum.
Quas pater in Christum solitus comittere, quo non
Vllus coelitibus tetrior hostis erat,
Vt nihil in vita peccarit, criminis instar
Hoc erit, hoc summum te genuisse nefas.
Ouum sacrilegi nimis execrabile corui,
Te pestem patrias perniciemque tuae.
Quae spem vitas omnem sanctorum in funere ponis,
Et bellum coelis stulta minaris anus.
Atque insonte litas patri matrique cruore,
Quels Styga placari credis inepta sacris.
At Reginas anima superi laetantur opima
Perfidise finem quam posuere tuae,
Haec Sanctis postrema viris iam meta laborum,
Vt gestent duro colla soluta iugo.
Insidiis turbata tuis Europa quiescet,
Cui scelerum pcenas impia laena dabis.
Quidquid erit, dignas impura canicula pcenas
(Dudleio plagas non remorante) lues.
Vt nothus imperium cepit virtute Britannum,
Sic notha flagitiis finiet imperium."
THE END.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
VOLUME I.
CHAPTER I.
1542—
1558.
rAGK
Birth of Mary Stuart, ....... i
Projected marriage of the young Queen,
.
'7
Strife among the nobility,
3
French party rises with Cardinal Beaton,
, '
4
Taking of Edinburgh by the English,
S
The Reformation, .
6
George Wishart,
7
Murder of Cardinal Beaton, .
8 and 9
Fresh invasion.
10 — 12
Battle of Pinkie,
13 and 14
Mary at Inchmahome Monastery,
IS
Mary sets out for France,
16
The welcome given to Mary in France,
17
Fights and troubles in Scotland,
18
D'Ess^ fortifies Leith,
19
Treaty of Boulogne,
20
The Queen-mother goes to France,
21
The Queen-mother returns to Scotland,
22
The Queen-mother becomes Regent, .
23
CHAPTER II.
1558 — 1560.
Mary Stuart's education, ....... 24
Mary Stuart's disposition and talents, .... 25 — 27
Project of marriage, ....... 28
Mary Stuart's marriage, ...... 29 and 30
VOL. II.
2 M
274
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Duplicity of the French Court,
31
Plagues and floods,
32
John Knox arrives in Scotland,
33
Bad faith of the Reformers, .
34
Siege of Leith,
35
Treaty of Edinburgh,
36
Exigencies of the Protestants,
37
Knox establishes the Reformation,
38
Conspiracy of Amboise,
39—42
Death of Francis II.,
43
CHAPTER III.
1561.
Funeral of Francis II., .....
44
Catherine de Mddicis and Mary Stuart,
45
Mary retires to Rheims, .....
46
The Scottish Parliament, .....
47
Arrival of Lord James Stewart, ....
48
Excesses of the Reformers, ....
49
Mary asks a safe-conduct, .....
50
Mary and Throckmorton, .....
51—53
Departure of Mary Stuart, .....
54
Her farewell, ......
55
CHAPTER IV.
1561—1563.
Arrival of Mary,
State of religion in Scotland,
Lord James and Lethington,
John Knox,
Mary and John Knox,
Brutality of the Reformers,
Letter to Elizabeth,
Premeditated interviews,
Madness of the Earl of Arran,
Rebellion of Huntly and the Gordons,
Mary in the field.
Lord James created Earl of Moray,
Rebellion of Huntly,
Both well a prisoner,
Changes brought about at Court,
Death of Chastelard,
Death of the Duke de Guise,
56
57
58
59
60 — 62
63
64
65
66—69
70
71
72
73
74
75 and 76
n
78 and 79
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
275
CHAPTER V.
1564—1565.
Negotiations for Mary Stuart's marriage,
Jealousy of Catherine de M^dicis,
Elizabeth offers Dudley,
Mary and Knox,
Knox and Lethington,
Melville in London,
Darnley,
Mary chooses Darnley,
Mary and Darnley,
Secret marriage^ of Mary and Darnley,
Mary and Randolph,
Solemn marriage,
PAGE
80
81
82
83 and 84
8S-87
88
89 and 90
91
92
93
94 and 95
96 and 97
CHAPTER VI.
1565— 1566.
-
Mary pardons the exiled,
98
Tamworth in Scotland,
99
Moray's rebellion.
100
Conduct of Darnley,
lOI
Project of assassinating Riccio,
102
Preparation for the assassination,
103
Murder of Riccio,
104 and 105
The Queen's captivity.
106
Reconciliation,
107
Mary and Darnley escape.
108
CHAPTER VII.
1566.
Mary's appeal to her subjects,
.
109
Darnley wishes to punish the guilty.
no
Funeral of Riccio,
III
Birth of James VI.,
112
Darnley jealous of Moray,
113
Mary goes to Alloa,
114
The Queen pardons Lethington,
IIS
Quarrels betwixt Moray and Bothwell,
116
Mary's attention to her husband,
117
Bothwell and John Elliot, . . '
118
Mary at Jedburgh,
119
Mary is taken ill, . . . .
120 and 121
Darnley's conduct,
122
276
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.
1566—1567.
Mary's journey to Craigmillar,
The Lords propose a divorce,
Mary's reply,
Conspiracy against the King,
Baptism of James VL,
Temporary reconcihation,
Mary pardons Morton and his accomplices,
Darnley conspires against England,
Mary in Glasgow,
Whittingham Conventicle,
The Kirk-of-Field,
The 9th of February,
The explosion,
Mary's attitude.
PAGE
123 and 124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
13s
136
137
CHAPTER IX.
1567.
Efforts of Mary to discover the murderers.
138
The Tolbooth Council,
139
Darnley's funeral.
140
The placards,
141
The Earl of Lennox and Mary,
142
Dunkeld Conventicle,
143
Mary and her son,
144
Good Friday,
145
Bothwell's trial.
146
Ainslie's trial,
147
Abduction of the Queen,
148
Mary and Bothwell,
149
Marriage of Mary and Bothvifell,
ISO
The Queen's despair,
151
CHAPTER X.
1567'
First acts of Bothwell,
Further doings of the conspirators.
Flight of the Queen,
Proclamation of the Confederates,
The 1 5th of June, .
The Queen surrenders in spite of Bothwell,
The isth of June, .
152
153
154
iSS
and
156
^S7-
-1 59
160
161
and
162
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
277
Troubles and sedition,
Mary at Lochleven,
Conduct of Mary's enemies,
PAGE
163 and 164
. 16s
166
CHAPTER XL
1567-
Mary at Lochleven,
The French ambassador refused access to the Queen,
Throckmorton in Scotland, .
Lethington's falsehoods.
Intriguing of the Scots and English,
The Queen's abdication,
Lethington's double-dealing,
Anger of EUzabeth,
Behaviour of the Hamiltons,
168
169 and 170
171
172
173 and 174
175
. 176
177
CHAPTER XI L
1567—
1568.
Coronation of the young Prince, . . . . . .178
Moray leaves France,
179
Mary and Moray at Lochleven,
180
Moray Regent,
181
Punishment of the assassins.
.
182
Expedition against Bothvirell,
. 183
Fhght of Bothwell,
184
Bothwell a prisoner at Malmoe,
. IBs
Lethington's haughty words,
186 and 187
Mary's first attempt at escape,
188
Her hardships in prison,
189
Mary's escape from Lochleven,
190
Battle of Langside,
'
191
The Queen's flight to England,
192
CHAPTER XIIL
Mary goes to England,
193
Proclamation of the Regent,
194
Letter from Mary to Elizabeth,
19s and 196
Elizabeth's reply.
197
De Montmorin in London,
. 198
Elizabeth and Lord Herries,
199
Mary's difficulties.
200 and 201
Struggles in Scotland,
202
The York Conferences,
203—206
278
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
Conferences continued at Westminster, ..... 207
Mary slandered at the Court of Spain,
.
208
The Westminster Conferences,
209 and 210
Westminster and Hampton Court,
211 — 216
Conckision of the Conferences,
217 and 218
CHAPTER XIV.
1569—1570-
Moray's forlornness, ....... 219
Moray and Norfollc,
220
Arrest of Chatelleraut,
221
Disorder in Scotland,
222
League against Cecil,
223 and 224
The Perth Assembly,
225 and 226
Elizabeth's anger, .
227
Norfolk's plans revealed.
228
Mary removed to Coventry,
229
Insurrection in the North,
230 and 231
Defeat of the rebels,
232
Lethington's trial, .
233
Mary Stuart in danger,
234
Murder of Regent Moray,
23s
Death of Moray,
. 236
CHAPTER XV.
1570—1571-
Disturbances after the Regent's Murder,
237
Letter of the Nobles to Elizabeth,
238
Conduct of Kirkaldy,
239
English Invasion, .
240
Felton, ....
241
Mary and Elizabeth,
242 and 243
Knox's invectives, .
244 and 245
Norfolk's projects, .
246
Taking of Dunbarton Castle, .
247
Death of the Archbishop of St Andrews,
248
The Two Parliaments,
249
Elizabeth's anxiety.
250
Elizabeth and Mary,
251
Capture of Chesein, .
252
Mary Stuart's projects,
253
Taking of Stirling Castle,
254
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
279
CHAPTER XVL
1571— 1572-
Regency of the Earl of Mar, .
,
PAGE
255
Mary encourages her Servants,
. 256
Discovery of Norfolk's Conspiracy,
1
257
Conduct of the Bishop of Ross,
. 258
Letter of Mary to Elizabeth, .
259
Buchanan's Pamphlet,
260
Norfolk's Trial,
261 and 262
Norfolk's Sentence, .
• 263
Death of Norfolk, .
264
Mary Stuart's Examination, .
. 26s
Execution of the Earl of Northumberland,
266
St. Bartholomew,
267 and 268
Elizabeth and the Duke d'Alengon,
.
< • . . 269
Projects against Mary,
270 and 271
Death of the Earl of Mar,
272
CHAPTER XVI L
1572—1576-
Gigantic project of Philip II.,
Morton made Regent,
Morton and Kirkaldy,
Siege of Edinburgh Castle, .
Surrender of Edinburgh Castle,
Execution of Kirkaldy,
Morton's excesses, .
The Puritans agitate England,
Illness of the Prince,
League of the Merchants against Morton,
The English covet the Prince,
Elizabeth's anger against Lady Lennox,
Death of the Cardinal de Lorraine,
The Prince's love for his Mother,
Mary Stuart's tranquillity,
Mary Stuart's resignation.
Her amusements, .
Disgraceful conduct of Morton,
Arrival of Castelnau,
Bothv^ell's declaration.
273
274
27s
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285 and 286
287
288
289
290 — 292
293
294
29s
280
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XVIII.
1576—1578-
Bothwell's declaration,
Happiness of the young Prince,
CoHduct of Lady Lennox,
Mary's rights acknowledged, .
Draft of a Will of Mary Stuart,
The Black Assizes of Oxford,
Public outcry against the Catholics,
Mary's love for her son.
Persecution of Mary Stuart, .
Affairs in Flanders,
Downfall of the Regent,
296 and 297
298
299—302
303
304
30s
306
307
308
309
310
CHAPTER XIX.
1578-1
581.
Stirhng surprised, . ■ . . . - • • 3'!
Morton's return to power,
312
Hostilities in Scotland,
313 and 314
Mary's comparative liberty, .
31S
Death of the Earl of Athole, .
. 316
Elizabeth and the Duke d'Anjou,
317 and 318
Humiliation of the Hamiltons,
319
Unfortunate position of Mary Stuart,
320
Mary and her Son, .
321
D'Aubigny in Scotland,
322
D'Aubigny and Morton,
323 and 324
Fresh cruelties towards Mary,
32s
Affairs in Ireland, .
326 — 328
Persecution of the Catholics, .
329
Arrest of Morton, .
330
Trial of Morton, . ,
331
Sentence of Morton,
332
Execution of Morton,
.
333
PROOFS.
Notes, and Explanations.
I. Faults found with the French and bitter words uttered against them,
II. Death of Chastelard, ......
III. Account given by the Queen of the circumstances which preceded and
followed the abduction at Foulbriggs,
335
336 and 337
337—339
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
IV. Account by du Croc of his negotiations on the morning of the 15th of June
1567, .......
V. Conspiracy of the Nobles against Mary, ....
VI. Interest taken by the Enghsh Cabinet in the defamation of Mary Stuart
in the " Detection," .....
VII. Death of Lethington, ......
VIII. The Will of Bothwell, ......
339—341
341 and 342
342 and 343
343 and 344
344—349
VOLUME II.
CHAPTER XX.
T581— 1583.
Position of Mary Stuart,
Mary Stuart and her Son,
She confers on him the title of King,
The Duke d'Anjou in London,
Departure of the Duke d'Anjou,
Projects of Lennox,
State of the Clergy in Scotland,
Captivity of James VI.,
Departure of Lennox,
His declaration.
Grief of the Queen of Scots, . '
Mary's letter to Elizabeth,
French envoys in Scotland, .
Beale and Mary Stuart,
James VI. recovers his freedom,
I
2
3
4 and 5
6
7
8
9
10
II
12
13 and 14
15
16
17
Slander against Mary,
Mary writes to her Protdg^es,
Negotiations with Scotland, .
Conspiracies against England,
Departure of Mendoga,
Elizabeth's system of Corruption,
The Cowrie Conspiracy,
Mary's advice to her Son,
Shrewsbury removed from Mary,
Ecclesiastical affairsjji Scotland,
VOL. II.
CHAPTER XXL
1583-1585-
18 — 20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
2 N
2»2
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Nail and Gray in London,
Association to protect the life of Elizabeth,
Parry,
Mary Stuart and the Association,
Letter of the Catholics to Elizabeth,
Persecution,
Mary at Tutbury,
Her Sufferings,
Mary and her Son,
Sir Amyas Paulet, .
PAGE
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37 and 38
39
40 and 41
CHAPTER XXIL
1585—1586.
Imprisonment of the Earl of Arundel, .
42 and 43
Departure of Castelnau,
44
Wotton in Scotland,
45 and 46
Enterprise of Stirling,
47
Negotiations between England and Scotland,
48—50
Mary at Chartley, . . . .
51
Intrigues of Walsingham,
52
Babington, . . . .
53—55
Mary Stuart removed from Chartley,
56
Mary's return to Chartley,
57
Letter of Elizabeth to Paulet,
S8
A baptism, . . . .
59
CHAPTER XXIIL
1586.
A glance into the Babington Conspiracy,
Mary's part in the Babington Conspiracy,
Infamous conduct of Walsingham,
Punishment of the Conspirators,
Confessions of Curie and Nau,
Mary writes to the Duke de Guise,
Letter from Elizabeth to Mary,
Mary submits to the Commission,
The commissioners at Fotheringay,
Defence of Mary Stuart,
Mary sentenced to death,
Mary's Sentence,
60
61
62
63
64
65
66 and 67
68
69
70—76
V
78
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
283
CHAPTER XXIV,
1586.
Slander spread by Walsingham throughout France,
Chiteauneufs efforts for Mary,
Speech of Belli^vre,
Elizabeth and Belli^vre,
Destrappes,
James VI. takes in hand his Mothei-'s cause,
The King of Spain defends Mary,
Elizabeth's dissembling,
Queen Elizabeth's speech.
Queen Ehzabeth's dissembling.
Queen Elizabeth's words in Parliament,
■e.
79
80
81 and 82
83 and 84
85
86
87
88
89 and 90
91
92 and 93
CHAPTER XXV
1586—1587.
Mary Stuart is told of her Sentence,
Mary's last letters,
Mary Stuart writes to the Archbishop of Glasgow,
Mary's letter to Elizabeth,
Elizabeth's anxiety,
EUzabeth asks Paulet to murder Mary,
Davison,
The Executioners at Fotheringay,
Bearing of Mary Stuart,
Her last Supper,
The night before the Execution,
The 8th of February 1 587,
Death of Mary Stuart,
94 and 95
96
97
98 and 99
100
loi
102
103
104
105
106 — 108
109 — 114
115 and 116
CHAPTER XXVI.
1587—1603.
Last duties paid to Mary's body,
Mary's Burial,
Elizabeth punishes Davison, .
Interview with the ambassador of France,
Great anxiety in Paris,
Scottish Invasion,
Grief of Philip II., .
The Invincible Armada,
Persecution of the Catholics,
Last moments of Elizabeth,
Death of Elizabeth,
Conclusion,
117
118
_ . 119
120
121
122 — 124
I2S
126 and 127
128
129
130
131— 133
284
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
DISSERTATIONS AND PROOFS.
Dissertation I.
RICCIO.
PAGE
137—140
I. Contemporary documents, .....
II. Deep love for the foreign musician made her raise him suddenly to a high
position, ....... 141 and 142
III. Those who killed Riccio did so to avenge the King's honour, because there
could have been no other reason for the murder, . . 142 — 145
Dissertation II.
MARY IN HER RELATIONS WITH DARNLEY AND BOTHWELL.
I. She never loved her husband, ..... 146 — 156
II. He was murdered by her orders, and she did not show the sHghtest grief, 156 — 170
I I I. She has against her :
1. Her letters to Both well, .... 1 70-— 197
2. Depositions of the accomplices who were punished for sharing
in the King's murder, .... 197 — 212
3. The attitude assumed by the Earl of Lennox and his family, 212 — 218
IV. She married the murderer of her husband, after having him acquitted, • 218 — 241
Dissertation III.
MARY AND BABINGTON.
I. The anxiety she always showed in prison, and her well-known hatred for
the Queen of England, .....
II. Her letters to the conspirators, .....
III. The confessions of the Secretaries, ....
242—248 <
248 — 256
256 — 259
Proofs.
I. Principal grievances which weighed on the Catholics of England,
II. Did Mary Stuart receive the sacrament before her death ?
III. Causes of the death of Mary Stuart,
IV. James VI. and Mary Stuart,
V. Writings against Queen Elizabeth,
260 — 262
262
263 — 266
266—268
268—270