Front matter

MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS

IN

HISTORY

BY REV. C. A. CAMPBELL, D.D., Ph. D.

MONTREAL: D. & J. SADLIER & CO. 1903

Copyright, 1903, by JAMES A. SADLIER.

PREFACE.

Much as has been written about Mary Queen of Scots, it would be difficult to find in our language a biography of her that recommends itself to busy readers by its brevity, whilst furnishing data and arguments with respect to controverted points in her history, intended to give satisfaction to inquiring minds.

If the present work has done thus much, it has accomplished the aim of

THE AUTHOR.

HALIFAX, N.S.,

February 8th, 1902.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

I.--The Scotland of Mary's birth II.--Troubles surrounding her childhood III.--The Young Queen of Scots in France IV.--Facing troubles in Scotland V.--The Queen's marriage and fresh Troubles VI.--The Tragedy of "Kirk O'Field" and its sequel VII.--Captivity--Escape--Flight VIII.--In the hands of Elizabeth IX.--The Queen of Scots detained a prisoner X.--Elizabeth unmoved by her captive's appeals XI.--The beginning of the end XII.--The evidence against the Queen of Scots XIII.--Extracts from her addresses to the Commissioners XIV.--The sentence of death XV.--An interval of suspense XVI.--The end

MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

CHAPTER I.

THE SCOTLAND OF MARY'S BIRTH.

No tale of romance possesses a more lasting charm than does the simple history of Mary Stewart, Queen of Scots. Since the day on which Sir Ralph Sadler, Ambassador of Queen Elizabeth, was privileged to see her in the nursery at Linlithgow, and pronounced her a "right fair and goodly child," every fresh contribution to her history has been welcomed with unparalleled eagerness. Nor is there any indication that her life-story will lose its fascination with the lapse of time. Scarcely a year passes away that does not see a considerable addition made to the already ponderous store of Mary-Stewart literature. Nevertheless, very many even of her admirers have, to say the least, an inadequate knowledge of her life. They know her only as a heroine of romance, or as a pious widow, kneeling in devotion with the Rosary hanging at her girdle, or as a cheerful martyr resigning her head to the block; and they forget that for seven years she reigned over the most turbulent nation of Europe, that she opened and closed parliament, deliberated in the Council Chamber, led armies to the field, that, in a word, she lived a most real and stirring life.

I confess it is no easy task to present a complete and, at the same time, correct picture of her career. The difficulty is owing to the large amount of matter, written in different and contradictory spirits, with which some of the most important events of her life have been obscured. Religion, politics, patriotism, avarice, personal friendships and hatreds, either conjointly or individually, determined the actions of those who had part in framing the history of the period. It becomes necessary, therefore, to learn how far the men on whose testimony, or from whose conduct, we have to pass judgment on certain incidents in Mary's life, were influenced by one or other of these motives.

Mary Queen of Scots was born in Linlithgow Palace, in Scotland, on the 8th of December, 1542. The condition of Scotland at the time was sad and evil-boding. Her father, the well-beloved James V., was at Falkland, dying of a broken heart, in consequence of the humiliating conduct of the disaffected Scottish nobles at Solway Moss. When told that a daughter had been born to him at Linlithgow, he gave no sign of pleasure, but sadly said, "God's will be done." Then, his memory reverting to the person through whom the Stewarts had ascended the throne of Scotland, he added, "It (the crown) came with a lass and it will go with a lass." He died shortly after, in the thirty-first year of his age, leaving to his distracted country an infant queen, only six days old.

The care of the young queen devolved on her mother, Mary of Lorraine, a lady of the famous French house of Guise. Did the scope of the present sketch but sanction the digression, I should be pleased to dwell a little on the character of this distinguished woman, whose memory some historians have, according to their custom, endeavoured to blacken, but who stands out in the judgment of the best historians of every creed as a generous, forgiving and heroic woman, who conscientiously defended the rights of her daughter and maintained the laws of Scotland, until an edifying and pathetic death withdrew her from the troubled scenes in which the years of her widowhood had been passed.

It is the privilege, or perhaps the misfortune, of rulers, that their marriage is one of the first things that engage the attention of their people; and while the nursery was disturbed by the cries of the infant queen, the councils of England and Scotland were agitated with the question of her marriage. Henry VIII., of England, had an infant son, Edward, afterwards Edward VI., for whom he wished to secure from the Scottish parliament a solemn promise of marriage with the young Queen of Scots. As might be presumed, it was not so much the desire of cultivating the friendship of his northern neighbours that actuated the English monarch, as the hope of accomplishing, by means of a marriage, what his predecessors had failed to accomplish by means of the sword, the subjugation of the Scottish kingdom. To have a clear conception of the political relations between the two countries, and to understand the foundation of the English claims, it will be necessary to take a retrospective glance at the history of Scotland.

In 844, the Scots of Dalriada and various Pictish races became united under King Kenneth McAlpine. During the reign of Malcolm I., who ascended the throne of Alban a hundred years later, the district of Cumberland was, by Edmund of England, made over to the King of Scotland, on condition that the latter should, in return, render him certain assistance in time of war. The acquisition of other districts fronting the Scottish border was subsequently made, in return for offered assistance against the common enemy--the Danes. But the annexation of Cumberland was the principal source of the endless conflicts between the sister kingdoms, until the union of the crowns under James VI. For those possessions which he had acquired within the kingdom of England, the Scottish king was obliged to pay homage to his neighbouring monarch. In the course of time, however, the English Kings began to claim that the homage they received from Scotland was for the entire Scottish kingdom, as well as for the Scottish possessions within the English borders. This the Scots denied, protesting that, while paying homage for the English border lands which they had acquired, they were a free and independent people. Such a state of affairs may seem strange to us, but it was nothing uncommon in those feudal times. William the Conqueror, for instance, although independent sovereign of England, paid homage to the King of France for the dukedom of Normandy, which he held within French territory.

In those circumstances, any English king who might desire to make war against Scotland could always put forward the old claim as a plea for his action. Unfortunately, the Scottish parliament, in order to secure the release of their King, William the Lion, on one occasion acknowledged the English claim of suzerainty. A few years later, however, Richard the Lion-hearted renounced the English claim, on payment by Scotland of a certain sum of money, which that chivalrous crusader needed to defray the expenses of his expedition to the Holy Land. The country remained independent for about one hundred years; then disputes concerning the rightful successor to Alexander III. having disunited and weakened the Scottish people, Edward I. found the time opportune for renewing the old claim. Twelve competitors for the throne appeared in the field, who, being not altogether averse to sacrificing national honour to personal advantage, were willing to acknowledge the supremacy of England, in order to win the invaluable influence of Edward for their respective causes. The principal claimants were Robert Bruce--not the great Bruce--and John Baliol. Edward decided in favour of Baliol, who forthwith ascended the throne as vassal of England. But the Scottish lion was soon aroused by the encroachments of Edward, and Baliol was forced to disclaim allegiance to his patron. Entering into a league with France, he began to prepare for the invasion of England. (This was the beginning of the long-continued friendship between Scotland and France, which completely died out only with the death of the Stewart cause.) But Scotland was not prepared to cope with the haughty Longshanks, and it was reduced to the condition of a province of England. This could not endure long. Disunion, and not lack of national valour, had opened the way to defeat. A leader only was needed, and a leader soon arose in the person of William Wallace, the soldier and hero-patriot. Although Wallace, after having driven the English out of his country, did not succeed in establishing her independence on a lasting basis, nevertheless his achievements were not vain; he had aroused his countrymen to action, and his patriotic conduct before the English judges in Westminster Hall, could not fail to open the eyes of certain Scottish nobles who, from motives of self-interest, had accepted the foreign rule, to a realization of their dishonourable position. When accused of being a traitor to King Edward, Wallace replied: "I could not be a traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject."

Scarcely had death struck the torch of patriotism from the hand of Wallace, when it was caught up by a worthy successor, who had learned bravery by the side of Wallace himself. Robert Bruce was the person whom Providence had destined, not merely to defeat the enemies of his country on the field of battle, but also to unite and consolidate his kingdom and to cause it to be once more recognized as free and independent. David II., son and successor of the great liberator, died without issue, and thus the male line of the Bruce family became extinct. But the nation, being strongly attached to the memory of their deliverer, called to the throne his descendant through the female line. Bruce's daughter, Marjory, had married the Lord High Steward of Scotland, and had a son, Robert. Marjory Bruce was the "lass" to whom James V. made reference on his death-bed; and her son, who in 1370 ascended the throne as Robert II., was the first of that long, celebrated, and unfortunate line of Stewart monarchs. Brave, witty, rash, affable, obstinate, magnanimous, they exhibit a character in which all the qualities that make men beloved, and nearly all that make men great, are perversely blended with many frailties and follies. Besides, some remorseless genius would seem to have presided over their lives and to have ingeniously contrived to make their miseries greater, and their lives more pitiable, by leading them into full view of prosperity and glory before it struck them to the earth. The good Robert III. died of sorrow at the misfortune of his sons; James I., the brave, learned and wise monarch, died under the murderer's steel; James II. was killed by the bursting of a cannon; James III., thrown from his horse and wounded, was stabbed to death by an assassin; James IV., the pride and darling of the nation, fell, sword in hand, on a disastrous field of battle; James V. died of a broken heart, and that, too, like his predecessors, in the blossom of his manhood; Mary (if I be permitted to anticipate), died at the block, the victim of politico-religious utilitarianism and her cousin's jealousy; and Charles I. died at the block, the victim of a military despotism.

During these centuries successive regal minorities afforded the nobles, at all times powerful and turbulent, ample opportunity of increasing their power, until it became a standing menace to the throne. James IV., besides his other good works for the welfare of his people, did much towards reducing the power of the nobles and centralizing authority in the crown. But the progress of the country received a sudden check, and the bright career of the King was brought to a mournful close, by an event that did for Scotland, on the eve of the Reformation, what the Wars of the Roses had already done for England--deprived it of its best and bravest nobles. James' rash invasion of England ended in the doleful battle of Flodden, which robbed Scotland of her king and almost of her independence. There is, however, one feature in that sad event which is pleasing to contemplate; it was the last great battle in which a united Scotland stood with unwavering fidelity around its monarch.

By the time Mary Stewart saw the light, an unexpected element of disunion had been introduced into the national life. The religious revolution of the sixteenth century, commonly called the Reformation, had been spreading in the cities and towns of the kingdom. Already in England Henry VIII. had enriched the throne, and the greedy nobles had enriched themselves, from the spoils of churches and monasteries. By his breach with Rome, Henry had made himself an enemy to the Catholic powers, and it was important that he should strengthen his position by drawing Scotland out of its old alliance with France, and bringing it into friendship with himself. But this he could not do while Scotland remained Catholic. The title of "Defender of the Faith," which, by his rebellion against the Pope, Henry had forfeited, but which, strange to say, neither he nor his successors have ever relinquished, was conferred on James V. of Scotland in 1537. In 1540 Henry sent his wily envoy, Sir Ralph Sadler, to bring the refractory young James to his own way of thinking. Sadler came with his plan of temptation so skilfully arranged, that one would believe him fresh from the study of the fourth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel.

First, he appealed to the vanity of the young King, representing to him that if he yielded to Henry's wishes, he would become independent of all external authority. But the device failed, and Sadler was forced to inform his master, that James continued in his persuasion that the "Bishop of Rome is the Vicar of Christ."

He next attempted to gain the Scottish King through avarice. He pointed out the wealth of the monasteries, which could be appropriated to the uses of the crown, as it had been in England. James assured him there was no need of that, for the "Kirkmen would give him all he wanted." Finally, Sadler reminded him that Henry was "stricken in years" and that by showing consideration for his uncle's wishes, James might be named his successor, and one day rule over the whole island. Yet the young northern king did not fall down and adore, but merely answered that he wished his uncle many years of life on the English throne; as for himself, he added, he was happy among his own people, and had no desire to extend his dominions.

Not all the Scottish nobles followed the example of their monarch. Across the border they could see the English nobles enriching themselves from Church property, and it was not clear to them why they should not go and do likewise. Accordingly, a number of them became remarkably industrious in the cause of the new religion, their zeal for the house of God being nowise abated by the unprecedented wealth it brought to their own house. We should greatly err, however, if we thought the avarice of the nobles of itself could have made the change of religion possible. The truth is, the state of Religion in Scotland, at that time, was not flourishing, and the country offered a good field for the growth and spread of religious innovation. The long peace from external foes which the Church had enjoyed was the occasion of a relaxation of discipline, and of a widespread indifference to the full observance of religious duties. The custom of appointing lay abbots, called Commendatory Abbots, to the charge of the temporalities of monasteries, was another evil. This office was frequently controlled by powerful lords, who had their own sons appointed thereto, not on account of their virtue or their learning, but just because they were scions of noble houses who had to be provided for. But what made the way smoothest for the "Reformers" was the ignorance of the people in matters of Christian doctrine. The wars in which the country had been for centuries engaged, had left little or no time for the cultivation of the arts of peace, except within the monasteries. Had the people been properly instructed in their religion, the work of the "Reformers" would have made but little headway in Scotland. A Reformation in the true sense--a recalling of the people, high and low, to the practice of their religious duties--was necessary; new creeds were not necessary. But the true Reformation began too late; in the meantime there came a revolution in which the religious fabric of centuries was overthrown, and a new profession of faith, gotten up in a few days by a committee of divines, was adopted by Act of Parliament. The monasteries and churches, which vied in point of richness and architectural beauty with the best on the Continent, were plundered and demolished. Voluminous libraries, containing, together with the works of the Ancients and the writings of the Church Fathers, precious manuscript histories of Scottish institutions, were made the fuel of bonfires; and the treasures of sculpture and painting, which had been accumulating for centuries, and in which men's religious hopes and fears were depicted by the Master artists of Medieval times, were hurled from their pedestals or consigned to the flames. While the frenzy lasted, the national loss was not considered. But cool heads soon began to deplore the wanton destruction which robbed the country of so many monuments, the history of which was interwoven with the history of Scottish patriots and heroic achievements. And in truth what true Scotsman, whatever his religious tenets, but deplores the demolition of such venerable piles as Melrose Abbey, Kelso, Scone? or who but would feel the noblest emotions of his nature awakened could he now approach the High Altar of Cambuskenneth's shrine, before which, when Scotland lay prostrate at the feet of the conqueror, the brave associates of Bruce knelt and vowed the deliverance of their country? But we must return to Mary.

CHAPTER II.

TROUBLES SURROUNDING HER CHILDHOOD.

On the death of James V., the Earl of Arran, head of the powerful house of Hamilton, became Governor of Scotland. Arran was weak and unreliable, and favourably affected, both in religion and politics, toward the English party. On the other hand, Cardinal David Beaton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, stood forth as the representative of Scottish independence and the French alliance; and through his influence the progress of negotiations for the English alliance was checked. But, for reasons which I need not delay to explain, an agreement of marriage between Mary and Edward was afterwards signed. So strongly, however, were the masses of the people opposed to any measure that might bring Scotland under the power of the "auld enemy," and so enraged were they at certain humiliating conditions attached to the marriage contract, that the treaty was broken up within a fortnight after it had been signed. "I assure you," said a Scotsman to the English envoy, "that our nation, being a stout nation, will never agree to have an Englishman King of Scotland; and though the whole nobility of the realm should consent to it, yet the common people, and the stones of the streets would rise and rebel against it."

Henry VIII., whose patience was not his predominant virtue, was enraged at this opposition to his will, and hastened troops into Scotland, both by land and sea, with instructions so savagely cruel, that we could hardly believe them to have been issued did we not see them realized in the subsequent conduct of the soldiery. On the 3rd of May, 1544, an English fleet suddenly appeared off Leith, which, in conjunction with a land army, proceeded to carry out the instructions of their royal master, namely, "To put all to fire and sword, to burn Edinburgh town, and to raze and deface it when you have sacked it and gotten what you can out of it, as that it may remain for ever a perpetual memory of the vengeance of God lighted upon it for their falsehood and disloyalty." "Do what you can," the instructions continue, "out of hand and without long tarrying, to beat down and overthrow the Castle, sack Holyrood House and as many towns and villages about Edinburgh as you conveniently can. Sack Leith and burn and subvert it and all the rest, putting man, woman and child to fire and sword, without exception, when any resistance shall be made against you. And this done, pass over to Fifeland and extend like extremities and destructions to all towns and villages whereunto ye may reach conveniently; not forgetting amongst all the rest to spoil and turn upside down the Cardinal's town of St. Andrews, as the upper stone may be the nether, and not one stick stand by another; sparing no creature alive within the same, especially such as either in friendship or blood be allied to the Cardinal."

Another army sent into Scotland in September of the same year, converted the southern portion of the country almost into a waste, no scruple being made of burning mothers and children in their homes. Between the 8th and the 23rd of September, the army destroyed, among other things, seven monasteries, sixteen castles, five market towns, two hundred and forty-three villages, thirteen mills and three hospitals. These barbarities had the effect of uniting the two parties in Scotland and of retarding the very movement that Henry had hoped they should accelerate.

The greatest obstacle to the progress of Henry's designs on Scotland was still Cardinal Beaton. Beaton was not only a distinguished prelate, but also a statesman of European reputation. Henry was anxious to get him out of the way; but negotiations for his murder, though entered into on various occasions, fell through, because the interested parties could not agree on the price of the Cardinal's blood. However, the work was accomplished later; on the 29th of May, 1546, a band of conspirators entered the Castle of St. Andrews, murdered the Cardinal and, having dressed his corpse in priestly vestments, suspended it from the Castle wall. Henry was shortly afterwards called to his reward, but the war against Scotland was carried on by Somerset, the Protector, and in September, 1547, Scottish independence being seriously threatened, after the disastrous battle of Pankie, the young queen was quickly removed from Sterling and hurried away to the Priory on Inchmahone, in the lake of Menteith, in Perthshire. Here, unconscious of the fierce conflicts of which she was the occasion, Mary passed her days in childish sports, in company with her four playmates, who were destined to become her maids of honor--Mary Beaton, Mary Seton, Mary Fleming and Mary Livingston.

Some decisive step with regard to the young queen had soon to be taken. The Estates convened and decided to give her in marriage to the Dauphin, and to send her to France to be educated. Accordingly, on the 7th of August, 1548, Mary, being then scarcely six years old, embarked at Dunbarton, and six days later landed at Roscoff, near Brest. Surrounded by every mark of respect corresponding to her dignity, she was conducted to the Court of Henry II., and was henceforward treated with the distinction due to a crowned queen (for the coronation ceremony had been performed in Scotland), and the betrothed of the heir to the French throne.

CHAPTER III.

THE YOUNG QUEEN OF SCOTS IN FRANCE.

Those who have been accustomed to hearing the French court of that time spoken of as dissolute and vicious, and who have furthermore taken for granted that Mary's early life was shaped by the unsavoury habits of the courtiers, and that the crimes of which she was afterwards accused were only the natural outgrowth of her early training, will do well to remember that her education was not intrusted to the French court or courtiers. Antoinette de Bourbon, maternal grandmother of the young queen, a lady eminent throughout France for her virtues, was the person in whose hands Mary of Lorraine had placed the religious education of her child. The brave Duke of Guise (who had won Calais from the English) and his brother the Cardinal, were also particularly interested in the welfare of their little niece. To these Mary, from the beginning, became warmly attached, and their landless and uninterrupted solicitude for her well-being, sealed that reciprocal love of uncles and niece which lasted until death.

Mary was already Queen of Scotland and betrothed of the future King of France, and would probably succeed to the throne of England; nothing, therefore, was overlooked that would help to qualify her for the high position to which she was destined. Her education did not stop with the lighter accomplishments suited to her sex and station; the deeper studies of literature, ancient and modern; history, Sacred Scripture, the languages and the fine arts, were assiduously attended to. An interesting document in the form of a Latin exercise book which she used when about twelve years of age, is preserved in the National Library in Paris. It contains sixty-four themes, written in clear characters, which, however, vary in appearance according to the quality of the pen and ink she happened to have at hand. She writes on subjects taken from Plato, Cicero and other classical authors; she cites different works of Erasmus; she discusses the history of certain learned women of antiquity; she speaks of the profit to be derived from the study of Holy Scripture if approached with a pure heart; and among other things she has a theme on Purgatory, thrown into the form of an epistle addressed to Calvin. Mary's physical, mental and moral development were studiously watched, and carefully reported to her mother in Scotland. When she had just completed her eleventh year, the Cardinal of Guise, in a letter to her mother, writes of her as follows: "Your daughter has grown much taller and she daily improves in goodness and virtue, in beauty and intelligence. She could not possibly make greater progress than she does in all that is excellent and of good reputation. Never have I seen her equal in this realm, either among high or low.... You may be assured that in her you have a daughter who will be the greatest of comforts to you." Further on the Cardinal drops a remark which shows that Mary had already developed a trait of character that was conspicuous throughout the remainder of her life. "In the settlement of your daughter's establishment, it is my opinion that there should not be anything that is either superfluous or mean, for meanness is the thing which, of all others, she hates most in the world."

In a letter written to her mother on the occasion of her first communion, Mary uttered a prayer which we who know--what she could not then know--the trials that awaited her, cannot read without being touched by the sad contrast between her first bright hope and the subsequent gloom that settled over her life. "I have come," she said, "to Meudon to Madame my grandmother, in order to keep the feast of Easter, because she and my uncle--Monsieur the Cardinal--wish that I should take the Sacrament. I pray to God very humbly to give me grace that I may make a good beginning."

On Sunday, the 4th of April, 1558, the fair Scottish queen, who was now in her sixteenth year, was married to the young Dauphin, in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. All Paris was astir in its festive garments. Scotland and France vied in adding to the splendour of the feast; the choicest music swelled along the high arches of the grand old cathedral; the streets of the gay capital re-echoed with the popular demonstrations; nor need we doubt that the martial strains of the Highland pipes mingled with the livelier tones of the French fife and drum. According to a chronicler of the event, it was the universal opinion of the multitude that, "if Scotland be a possession of value, she who is queen of that realm is far more precious, for if she had neither crown nor sceptre, her single person, in her divine beauty, would be worth a kingdom."

In the following November, Mary Tudor, Queen of England, died, and Mary Stewart, at least in the opinion of the Catholics, who did not acknowledge the legitimacy of Elizabeth, daughter of Ann Boleyn, became, by right, Queen of England. Mary's title to the crown of England came through her paternal grandmother, the Princess Margaret, eldest sister of Henry VIII. A few months later, the death of the French King brought the Dauphin to the throne, and Mary became Queen of France. A little more than a year afterwards, she was left a widow of eighteen. She had all along been, and still was, the pride and admiration of France; yet she could truly say, "Now, I'm in the world alone." Her father had died when she was an infant; her father-in-law, who was strongly attached to her, had been cut off by a sudden death; her husband died shortly after; and a few months later, the news of her mother's death, under distressing circumstances, reached her. No wonder she turned her thoughts away from royal splendour and gave herself up to meditation on the hollowness of worldly greatness. No wonder it took all the influence of her friends to persuade her from entering the Convent at Rheims and passing the remainder of her days under the habit of an humble nun. But this was not permitted her; and the question of her return to Scotland began to be discussed. The Estates of Scotland convened to consider the conditions on which they would permit the return of their Sovereign. The men who led this movement had shortly before been in open rebellion, and, with the assistance of Elizabeth of England, had carried on war against the Queen-Regent, Mary of Lorraine. They had furthermore concluded a treaty with Elizabeth that was prejudicial to Mary's right of succession to the English throne; and had, by Act of Parliament, proscribed the Catholic religion in Scotland. The articles of the treaty and the acts against Catholic worship had been presented to Mary for ratification; but she had declined to sanction them, the question being weighty and she being without counsel of her nobles; more especially, however, because these were not the work of the Scottish nation, but of a faction in league with Queen Elizabeth.

Indeed, the English Ambassador to Paris, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, had repeatedly urged Mary to ratify the treaty of Edinburgh. It was after an interview with her on this subject that this shrewd and observant agent of Elizabeth and Cecil penned for the information of the English court, the following description of the young widow, which is valuable as the testimony of an enemy who knew her well:--

"During her husband's life no great account was made of her, for that being under bond of marriage and subjection to him (who carried the burden and care of all her matters), there was offered no great occasion to know what was in her. But since her husband's death, she hath shewed (and so continueth) that she is of great wisdom for her years, and of equal modesty, and also of great judgment in the wise handling of herself and her matters; which, increasing with her years, cannot but turn greatly to her commendation, reputation, honour and great benefit to herself and her country.... Assuredly she carries herself so honourably and discreetly that one cannot but fear her progress."

Mary's "modesty and honour," therefore, were already the cause of alarm to her English foes. What wonder, then, if they strove to dispoil her of both, or that failing, endeavoured to convince her subject that she had cast them both from her?

Two delegates were sent from Scotland to negotiate with their Queen concerning her return. One represented the Congregation,[#] or what may be called the Revolutionary party--and this was Mary's own half-brother, Lord James Stewart, later known as the Earl of Moray; the other, John Leslie, afterwards Bishop of Ross and the life-long friend of Mary, represented what may be called the old loyal party. The suspicions entertained by the loyal party as to the honesty of Lord James' intentions are revealed by the fact that Leslie advised Mary to have him arrested and detained in France, until she should be firmly seated on the throne. If she did not care to do this, Leslie recommended that, instead of going direct to Edinburgh, which was the stronghold of the Congregation, she should land at Aberdeen, where the Earl of Huntly, with twenty thousand of her loyal subjects, was prepared to welcome her and conduct her in triumph to Edinburgh. And when we consider the influence of the powerful Gordon, who even then was "Cock of the North," it seems probable that the Congregation, without the aid of Elizabeth, could have raised no force sufficient to oppose him.

[#] Since December, 1557, when a certain number of Scottish nobles, at the instance of Knox, solemnly pledged themselves to support the new religion and "to forsake and renounce the congregation of Satan,"--by which they meant the Catholic Church,--the Protestants in Scotland had been known as the Congregation.

But Mary--for what reason we are not informed, but probably from her aversion to strife and bloodshed--declined the invitation of the Catholic Earl, and decided to return to Scotland under the patronage of neither the circumcised "Saints" of the Congregation, nor the uncircumcised Philistines of the Gordon country, but as a messenger of peace who would unite all parties in the bonds of mutual forbearance, and would seek her support in the undivided loyalty of the realm. So far she had won all hearts, and had met no man but would have thought it a privilege to be permitted to devote his life to her service. May we not suspect that she hoped her personal influence, which had hitherto known victory only, would soften the animosity of rebel lords and religious fanatics?

At any rate she prepared to depart for Scotland. "All the bravest and noblest gentlemen of France assembled themselves around the fairest of Queens and women," to give her a last proof of their love and respect. Among the Scottish nobles who formed part of her cortege on her way to Calais, was he who, a few years later, became the evil genius of her life--the brave and reckless Earl of Bothwell. In the following soliloquy, the unfortunate Earl, outlawed and pining away in a Danish prison, has been made to express his impressions of the young widow when he first knew her in France:--

"O Mary, Mary, even now,

Seared as I am to shame,

The blood grows thick around my heart

At utterance of thy name!

I see her as in by-gone days,

A widow, yet a child,

Within the fields of sunny France,

When heaven and fortune smiled.

* * * * *

O lovelier than the fairest flower

That ever bloomed on green,

Was she, the darling of the land,

The young and spotless queen.

The sweet, sweet smile upon her lips,

Her eyes so kind and clear,

The magic of her gentle voice,

That even now I hear!

And nobles knelt, and princes bent,

Before her as she came;

A queen by gift of nature she,

More than a queen in name."[#]

[#] "Bothwell," by William Edmondstoune Aytoun.

On the 15th of August, 1561, having bid farewell to her uncles, the Cardinal and the Duke of Guise, to her other relatives and the large number of friends and admirers who accompanied her to the water's edge, she embarked at Calais and turned with a heavy heart to her new home, where her mother, only a few months before, had been denied a grave; where the death of her husband had been made the subject of rude jibes, and where she herself had been denounced by the leader of the new religion, as another Jezebel. France may be said in the meantime to have been in mourning; and the words of the poet Ronsard, poetry though they be, express a feeling that was common to the nation.

"Ho! Scotland," he writes, "I would that thou mightest wander like Delos on the face of the sea, or sink to its profoundest depths, so that the sails of thy bright queen, vainly striving to seek her realm, might suddenly turn and bear her back to her fair Duchy of Tourraine."

Six days after her departure, having evaded, under cover of a dense fog, the English cruisers sent out to intercept her, she landed at Leith, and proceeded to the Royal Palace of Holyrood at Edinburgh.

CHAPTER IV.

FACING TROUBLES IN SCOTLAND.

The news of the unexpected arrival of the young Queen, who had come unattended by armed force, and had committed herself to the chivalry of the nation, awakened a degree of enthusiasm even in the stern "professors" of the Congregation. Feelings of loyalty to a long line of monarchs die hard in the human breast, and especially was this so in those days when the monarch, in the estimation of his people, stood for something more than the chairman of a national committee; and the mass of the Scottish people, whether adherents of the old religion, or professors of the new, saw in the fair Queen who had come amongst them the representative of a line of brave Sovereigns, around whom their forefathers had fought and died for national independence, and whose deeds of bravery were fresh in Scottish song and tradition, indeed, the influence which Mary wielded over the people was greater than could well be expected. Shortly after her arrival, a number of the most zealous nobles of the Congregation came to Edinburgh to help Knox banish the Mass from her household. But, after a few visits to Holyrood, their fierce fervour disappeared. "I have been here now for five days," remarked one of them to a friend, "and at the first I heard every man say, 'Let us hang the priest,' but after that they had been twice or thrice in the Abbey, all that fervency passed. I think there be some enchantment whereby men are bewitched." And in truth it can be said that, with scarcely an exception, no one ever came directly under the influence of Mary Stewart without being, in some degree, impressed in her favour.

But in spite of the favourable signs that were manifested on her arrival, no grave observer could contemplate her environment and fail to foresee discord, rebellion and her almost inevitable overthrow. There were the fierce nobles who, a few months before, had been in arms against her mother, and who were enjoying the property of the Church, which it was now their interest to combat. There were the stern "Professors" of the Congregation, of which Knox was the life and force, who considered her an idolatress, and, consequently--according to the Jewish criminal code, which they held in special esteem--deserving of death. There was her half-brother, Lord James, gruff, reticent and ambitious, watching for a turn of affairs that might bring him to the throne; and there, too, was Elizabeth, with her able and unscrupulous Secretary, Cecil, who had already fomented and supported rebellion in Scotland, and even now had emissaries at work for the overthrow of the young northern Queen. Worst, perhaps of all, Mary had very little counsel on which she could rely. Allowing for poetical exaggeration, a good deal of truth is contained in the words of the Jacobite bard:--

"She stood alone without a friend,

On whom her arm might lean,

No true and trusty counsellors

Were there to serve their Queen;

But moody men, with sullen looks,

And faces hard and keen."

Mary was not long in Scotland before her courage was put to the test. It had been stipulated by Lord James that she should be free to have Mass in her own house. It would seem, however, that the zealots of the Congregation had little expected that in face of their strong opposition to her religion, the young Queen would venture to practice it on her return. If so, they miscalculated the extent to which she had inherited the high spirit and unflinching courage of her bravest ancestors.

The first Sunday after her arrival, she ordered Mass to be celebrated in the Chapel-Royal of Holyrood. A party of the Congregation, headed by Patrick, Lord Lindsay, rushed into the apartment and attacked the Chaplain. The Queen immediately published a proclamation to the effect that she did not intend to interfere with the form of religion she had found established in Scotland, and that she commanded her subjects not to molest any of her servants or household. Shortly afterwards she made a tour of the country, and on her return to Edinburgh, learned that the Provost and his brethren in office had, in the meantime, issued a proclamation commanding all Papists, under penalty of death for the third offence, to depart from the town. She caused the bailies who were responsible for this act to be removed from office, and issued a counter-proclamation, permitting "All good and faithful subjects to repair to, or leave Edinburgh, according to their pleasure or convenience."

Knox was horrified at the Queen's action, and immediately predicted a sudden plague. But what annoyed him most was, that certain Protestant lords, who had professed strong opposition to the Mass, were now inclined to tolerate it in the Queen's chapel. He took care, in his weekly sermons, to make known his opinion of these "politick heads" and to give the people timely warning of the chastisement with which God would certainly visit the nation for permitting idolatry.

The young Queen, who was still in her teens, must have keenly felt the reproaches that were being cast on herself and her religion, and, although she succeeded in showing herself cheerful in company, we may be sure her heart was sad and that memory often carried her back to earlier days, in which she experienced nothing but gentle treatment and the respectful homage of a nation of brave men, ready to draw the sword in her defence. However, it would be unjust to the Scottish people to think that the treatment which Mary received in Edinburgh was a correct index to the feeling of the country at large. The hearts of the Scottish people were with their Queen, and remained with her unto the end. Her fiercest enemies were found in the extreme religious party led by Knox. An amicable understanding with these was impossible. The Protestant nobles--except those who were zealous followers of Knox--did not, as far as I can see, care much what religious devotions the Queen practised, so long as she took no steps towards restoring the old religion. The fact that many of them had enriched themselves from church property readily explains their opposition to every movement in that direction.

But the turbulent section of the nobles and the Congregation controlled by Knox, were not the people of Scotland. This is a fact it would be well to note, for, it seems to me, many people fall into the error that the friends and the enemies of Mary in Scotland were divided on purely religious lines. It is true, the storm in which she was shipwrecked, was mainly a religious one; yet all the Protestants were by no means opposed to her. Many of her best friends, who stood by her in every peril, and supported her cause until the last hope of her restoration was dead, were Protestant nobles.

Early in Mary's reign there appears to have been some discontent among certain Catholic nobles, who seemed disposed to attempt the restoration of the old faith by force of arms. The Earl of Huntly said that, if the Queen would "sanction him in it, he could set up the Mass again in the three countries." She was as zealous in the cause of religion, and willing to suffer as much for it as Huntly; but the prospect of effecting any permanent good by such means, was extremely poor. If the struggle would be left to Scotland itself, Huntly's project would be more deserving of consideration. But Queen Elizabeth would never, while she could prevent it, allow her adversaries to gain advantages in Scotland; and in the event of the Scottish Catholics attempting to gain freedom of worship for themselves her gold and her soldiers would soon flow over the border, as they did in the regency of Mary of Lorraine. But apart from this, Mary was opposed to civil strife. She had come to the country in a peaceful manner, hoping, by a peaceful policy, to conciliate the minds of her people and finally to obtain an alleviation of the ills under which her Catholic subjects were suffering. But the difficulties with which she had to contend were not fully understood by her relations in France, nor, at the outset, even by the Pope; and it is not improbable that for a while they feared she was not so industrious as she should be in promoting the interests of her religion. And to this day a number of her Protestant biographers--some of them enthusiastic vindicators of her honour--speak of her leanings towards Protestantism, either from policy or from conviction. Some say that early in her reign she, through policy, openly favoured the Protestant cause, and as proof of her favour overthrew--which she undoubtedly did--the powerful house of Gordon, head of which was the Catholic Earl of Huntly. Others think if the proper means had been employed, she would have become a Protestant from conviction, and, in support of their opinion, they adduce her readiness to read Protestant controversial works, and that state of religious doubt which, they say, she manifested in a certain conversation with Knox.

A distinguished Scottish biographer of Mary's, the late Sir John Skelton, has thought that the uncharitable treatment she received from Knox was the principal cause why she remained a Catholic. "Knox," he writes, "was the foremost of the Reformers; yet Mary had found that Knox was narrow-minded, superstitious, and fiercely intolerant,--so narrow-minded, intolerant and superstitious that he had no difficulty in believing that the orderly course of nature was interrupted because the Queen dined on wild fowl and danced till midnight. If this was Protestantism, she would have none of it. Nor can we blame her much. The eccleciastical dictator at Edinburgh was as violent and irrational (it might well appear to her) as the ecclesiastical dictator at Rome. Was it worth her while to exchange the infallible Pope of the Vatican for the infallible Pope of the High Street?"[#] (Maitland of Lethington, Vol. II., Chap. I.)

[#] The inconsistency of those who, having appealed to private judgment from the authority of the Pope, persecuted all who would not recognize their own authority, is nowhere more conspicuous than in the case of the early Scottish Reformers. By the end of the first six months of its existence, the Congregation formulated the following anathema with which to pursue rebellious subjects: "And this his sin, by virtue of our ministry we bind, and pronounce the same to be bound in heaven and earth. We further give over into the hands and power of the devil the said A.B. of the destruction of his flesh; straitly charging all that profess the Lord Jesus, to repute and to hold him accursed, and unworthy of the familiar society of Christians; declaring unto all men that such as hereafter, before his repentance, shall haunt or familiarly accompany him are partakers of his impiety, and subject to the like condemnation."

In spite of all this, I venture to say there is no historical evidence that Mary ever contemplated a change of religion. What answer does she herself give to these statements? Just before her departure from France, in conversation with Throckmorton, the English Ambassador, who was probing her mind on the question of religion, she made what may be called a formal declaration of her faith:--

"I will be plain with you; the religion which I profess I take to be the most acceptable to God, and neither do I know, nor desire to know, any other. Constancy becometh all folks well, but none better than princes, and such as rule over realms, especially in matters of religion. I have been brought up in this religion, and who might credit me in anything, if I should show myself light in this case."

Her courageous opposition to every attempt to deprive her of Mass in the Chapel-Royal of Holyrood, is well known to readers of history; and furthermore it is evident that she continued her religious devotions there as long as it was in her power to do so.

Four years after her return to Scotland, when Randolph, the Ambassador of Elizabeth, who had been sent to her on business concerning her contemplated marriage, suggested that she should change her religion and thereby gain more favor from the English Queen, Mary indignantly answered:--

"What would you that I should make merchandise of my religion! ... It cannot be so."

Her words, in reply to those who, not long before her execution, strove to prevail on her to renounce her former "follies and abominations," throw light, if that were necessary, on what her religious convictions had all along been.

To Lord Buckhurst, who had informed her that sentence of death had been passed upon her, and had urged her to accept the spiritual ministration of the Anglican Bishop of Peterborough, she said:--

"I have never had the intention of changing my religion for any earthly kingdom, or grandeur, or good, whatever, or of denying Jesus Christ, or his name, nor will I now."

And again, the day before her execution, in answer to similar demands, she said, amongst other things:--

"I have not only heard, or read, the words of the most learned men of the Catholic religion, but also of the Protestant religion. I have spoken with them and have heard them preach, but I have been unable to find anything in them that could turn me from my first belief."

So much for Mary's own evidence. It is, to say the least, faulty reasoning, to adduce the Queen's march against the Earl of Huntly as proof that she wished, either from policy or from conviction, to support the Protestant cause. In view of the firm and unequivocal stand she had hitherto taken in defence of her religion, the presumption that she was now prepared to sacrifice its interests, is unwarranted, and, furthermore, is unnecessary, as other good and sufficient reasons for her action can readily be found.

Being young and inexperienced in dealing with such turbulent nobles as then surrounded her throne, and having extremely few persons in whom she could venture to put her trust, she at first allowed herself to be influenced in her method of government by her half-brother, the Lord James. Now, Lord James, as is commonly admitted by the best historians, hoped to work his way to the Scottish throne, despite his illegitimacy, and naturally he was anxious to overthrow every power that would prove an obstacle to the advancement of his cause. Besides, he had his eye fixed on the Earldom of Moray, which had for some time been controlled by Huntly. The obstacle could be removed, and the Earldom gained, if Huntley could be "worried" into war, and then overthrown by the authority of the Queen. Three most significant things are certain,--that Lord James acquired the Earldom of Moray (hence his title of Earl of Moray) immediately that Huntly and his house were ruined; that he attempted, without Mary's knowledge, to procure the execution of Huntly's son, George, whose life had been spared, but who had been placed in ward at Stirling; and that the Gordons never after acted towards the Queen as if they held her responsible for the injuries they had suffered, but, on the contrary, gave ample proof that they considered Moray the responsible party. However, if Mary thought no danger threatened her from the Gordon country, she could not be excused for allowing herself to be made the instrument of Lord James' ambition in so grave a matter.

The fact is, the unfortunate tragedy was the result of an old and bitter enmity between Huntly and the Lord James. The hated enemy came, confident in the support of royal authority, which he almost fully controlled, and committed acts that exasperated the proud Highland Earl, and drove him into rebellion--for to oppose Lord James in these circumstances was to resist the Queen. As far as Mary was concerned, religion had as little to do with the overthrow of the Gordons as it had to do with the execution of Chastellar.

Her conversation with Knox in which she is said to have revealed a state of religious doubt, is, to my mind, a proof of her polemical cleverness. She takes Knox on his own principle of private judgment and delicately shows him that it cannot satisfy her mind--that it cannot raise her above doubt. Knox tells her one thing; her uncle, the Cardinal, tells her another; whom is she to believe? She was setting a snare for Knox, which he could not escape, except by acknowledging an authority in religion that rested on a sounder foundation than either his or the Cardinal's opinion.

But why, it may be asked, did she not make her religious zeal more evident at the outset, by sending Bishops to the Council of Trent, in compliance with the request of the Pope, and by using her influence to obtain at least religious toleration for her Catholic subjects? The answer is simple,--because it was beyond her power to do either. She had as much as she could do to save the life of her chaplain when he said Mass in the Chapel-Royal; how could she take any steps publicly to relieve her Catholic subjects?

The report of the Papal Nuncio, Nicholas Goudanus, who came to Edinburgh in June, 1562, throws light on the helpless condition of the Queen, and disposes us to sympathize with her in the miseries she was destined to suffer at so early an age, rather than to nourish suspicions of her sincerity and good conscience. He says he was in Edinburgh a month before he could see the Queen, and even then he had to be received in private, while the members of the court were out. Of all the Bishops, the Bishop of Dunkeld alone ventured to receive him. The nuncio came to the Bishop's house disguised as a banker's clerk, and, according to a pre-arranged device to avert suspicion, the conversation during dinner was limited to money matters.

Mary informed the nuncio that, in order to preserve some remains of the Catholic faith, she had been obliged to do many things much against her will. As regards the power exercised over her by the nobles, Goudanus remarks: "The men in power acknowledge the Queen's title, but prevent her from exercising any of the rights of sovereignty;[#] whenever her opinion does not agree with theirs, they oppose her at once. Not only that, but they deceive her as well, and frighten her with threats of an English invasion, especially when she is meditating any steps in support of her faith."

[#] This statement, however, is too sweeping.

As time advanced, Mary became more and more beloved by her people, although the opposition to her religion never abated. When, in 1563, she attended the opening of her first parliament, she was enthusiastically hailed by the populace, whose applause grew all the louder when they heard her address the assembly, not, as they had expected she would, in a strange language, but in their own native tongue, marked though it was by a foreign accent. Knox, who feared the "politick heads" among the children of God might so far fall from grace as to extend a degree of toleration to the outcast children of men, was irritated by this display of affection for the Queen, and he took revenge by denouncing the womanly vanity displayed by her and her ladies, especially the "targetting of their tails"--whatever that meant.

We are, as a rule, so much occupied with the romantic and tragic features of Mary's life, that we are apt to overlook her qualities as a ruler and the works which she accomplished for the benefit of her people. It may in brief be said, that she was deeply interested in every measure that could promote their welfare, that during her reign the country was comparatively peaceful and prosperous, and that the beneficent influence of her government is attested by various public records. Sir Thomas Craig, one of her Privy Councillors, has witnessed to her sound judgment in these words: "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 admired by all.... She had not studied law; and yet, by the natural light of her judgment, when she reasoned on matters of equity and justice, she oftimes had the advantage of the ablest lawyer. Her other discourses and actions were suitable to her great judgment. No word ever dropped from her mouth that was not exactly weighed and pondered. As for her liberality and other virtues they are well known."

CHAPTER V.

THE QUEEN'S MARRIAGE AND FRESH TROUBLES.

It is hardly necessary to mention that Mary--a Queen renowned throughout Europe for her beauty and accomplishments--was a prize for which the royal bachelors of the Continent eagerly grappled; and that in Scotland she was a rock upon which hopeless victims of her charms made shipwreck of their lives. Under the spell of those charms, a cool-brained Scotsman, the young Earl of Arran, went mad; and (what perhaps, should not surprise us so much), the hot-brained French poet, Chastellar, not only went mad, but was precipitated into acts of indiscretion that brought him to the scaffold. In the question of the Scottish Queen's marriage, however, Elizabeth wished to have a controlling voice, and she left the young Queen under the impression that, if she married the person of Elizabeth's own choice, her right of succession to the throne of England, in case the English Queen died without issue, would be declared. Accordingly, Elizabeth began proposing Robert Dudley, afterwards Earl of Leicester, as her choice of husband for the Queen of Scots. Leicester was a man of extremely doubtful reputation, and most likely would never be accepted by Mary, so long as she was free to reject him. He was the recognized favourite of Elizabeth, as well--a fact that makes it hard to understand why she put him forward in this connection. But, all the circumstances considered, it seems most likely that Elizabeth never expected Mary to marry Leicester. Indeed, she would rather see Mary remain unmarried; but William Maitland, the Scottish Queen's able Secretary, had been urging on Cecil the necessity of settling differences between the two Queens, and of recognizing the Scottish right of succession. Cecil made fair or evasive promises. In the meantime Elizabeth and he played the Leicester farce, to kill time, and probably in the hope that Mary, with her Stewart impulsiveness, would make some sarcastic remark on Elizabeth's policy, or that some other event would transpire upon which they might seize, as a plea for discontinuing negotiations, and as a screen behind which to develop their long-settled design for the overthrow of the northern Queen. But Mary became tired of Elizabeth's and Cecil's policy of evasion and delay, and feeling that it would be unbecoming her dignity as an independent sovereign, to allow herself to be played with and deceived, she resolved to break away from their snares and to marry where she would. She escaped Scylla only to be caught in Charybdis.

At the court of Elizabeth was an accomplished young lord of eighteen years, connected by blood with both the royal houses of Stewart and Tudor, whose father, although a Scottish Earl, had resided twenty years in England. This youth was Henry Stewart--Lord Darnley. The question of a marriage with Darnley had already been represented to Mary by his friends, and now she decided to entertain it. In May, 1655, after some opposition, especially on the part of Moray, Parliament gave its unanimous consent to the projected marriage, which was consequently celebrated on July 29th, and a new era opened in the life of Mary Stewart.

Immediately after the marriage, the royal pair were called upon to take the field against insurgent nobles. Moray, although he had given his consent to the proposed marriage, had subsequently declared against it, and had raised an insurrection in the country. He feared, so at least he professed, that the Queen's union with a "Papist" threatened the well-being of the "reformed" religion in Scotland. But whoever is versed in the Earl's history can discover another motive for his opposition, namely, his well-founded fear that Mary's marriage and the return of the Lennox Stewarts to Scotland would forever shut himself out from the throne. However, the marriage was completed and the insurgent lords summoned to appear at court, under pain of being considered rebels. They heeded not the summons, but prepared for war. With the assured support of Elizabeth, who likewise was offended, or pretended to be offended, at the Darnley marriage, what had they to fear? This was a critical moment for Mary. Would she try to coax the rebels into friendship by promises of pardon, and to conciliate Elizabeth by humble apologies for whatever in the late transaction might have offended her English cousin, or would she take up the gauntlet that had been thrown down, and risk the consequences of an armed encounter with the rebels? Her Secretary, Sir William Maitland, saw the danger that threatened his mistress and, in his correspondence with Cecil, strove to secure an adjustment of difficulties, by a reasonable and peaceful policy, notwithstanding the Darnley marriage. But Elizabeth and Cecil would not lose the favourable opportunity; they abandoned their attitude of obstruction and delay, and assumed one of aggression and command. Maitland could do no more. But there is a force which diplomacy cannot measure, and which cannot be applied through the ordinary medium of governmental machinery. Such is the force of a brave, resolute and inspiring character. Mary appealed to the loyalty of her people, and in a few days thousands of brave men were arrayed under her standard. The rebels, in spite of their attempts to raise the populace on their side, were never strong enough to venture an engagement with the Queen's forces; and after a few weeks they were seeking refuge where Scottish rebels of that period always found themselves secure--across the English border. The uprising served as a test of the popular feeling, and the test proved that the nation was devoted to Mary.

In an historical question like this, on which so much divergence of opinion has existed, one must be careful not lightly to dogmatize. This, however, may be said, that it is not easy to read the correspondence of that period between the English agents in Scotland and Berwick and the Secretary of State's office in London, without being driven to conclude that the subsequent rebellious movements that afflicted Scotland were directed largely from Westminster and aimed at the ultimate overthrow of Mary Queen of Scots.

The rebel nobles had suffered an inglorious defeat. Elizabeth, although she had encouraged them, now, with her habitual duplicity, to clear herself in the eyes of foreign princes, spurned them from her presence as traitors to their lawful Queen. Indeed, it requires more than ordinary mental insight to understand how Moray, if he was the conscientious and high-minded worthy that many of his friends claim him to have been--that "vir pietate gravis" of Buchanan--could have acted the part he did in that "scene of farce and falsehood" which Elizabeth contrived for her own justification. When he and the secularized Abbot of Kilwinning, as representatives of the discomfited rebels, approached their English patroness for consolation, she refused to give them audience, until they consented to make a solemn declaration in the presence of the French and Spanish Ambassadors, that she had given them no encouragement in their rebellion. When the humiliated Scotsmen finished their part, Elizabeth immediately added: "The treason of which you have been guilty is detestable; and as traitors, I banish you from my presence."

What was next to be done? Having given such great cause for displeasure to their Queen, the rebel nobles might well fear that the grants of property which many of them had received from her childlike lavishness, would be revoked at the first opportunity. It was necessary, therefore, that something should be done to prevent any measure of this kind and to cripple the power of the Queen. What means could be employed to this end?

Darnley, at the time of his marriage, was handsome and accomplished, but Cardinal Beaton, Mary's Ambassador at Paris, warned her, unfortunately all too late, against the match, saying that he was a "quarrelsome coxcomb." The truth of the remark was verified shortly after, when the boyish follies and profligate habits of the young King began to reveal themselves. Instead of being a comfort and support to his consort, who scarcely knew where to turn for trustworthy advice, and who had known nothing but suffering since she landed in the realm, Darnley only added fresh trials to her life. He looked for position that she could not grant him; he looked for authority that he had not judgment to exercise, and he became wrathy and troublesome when refused. Besides, he contracted the habit of drunkenness, and associated with low companions. Here, then, was a tool whom the cunning conspirators could use to work out their design.

There was in Mary's service, as Secretary, an Italian named David Rizzio, a man fairly well advanced in years, rather unprepossessing in appearance, but, according to the testimony of those who knew him well, very clever in business affairs, and of inflexible fidelity. Rizzio had so far been the faithful friend of Darnley; but the conspirators represented to the young King that the Italian had too much influence with the Queen, and was instrumental in withholding from him the authority he desired. Finally, the traitors in Scotland and the rebel lords sojourning in England, working on Darnley's ambition, entered into a league with him and signed a bond--Moray, the "vir pietate gravis" among the rest--by which they pledged themselves to give him the crown matrimonial, to advance his cause, to be friends of his friends and enemies of his enemies; Darnley in return promised the recall of the rebels and the security of their estates. Provisions to justify their rebellious enterprise were made in the alleged undue influence of Rizzio with the Queen, and the helpless foreigner was marked for death. A more shameful contract would be difficult to imagine. A few months earlier these men had taken up arms against their Queen, because she had decided on a marriage which (they said) was inimical to the interests of religion, and now they are signing a contract to subvert her authority and promote to unexpected power that self-same Darnley whose advancement they had risen in arms to prevent. Of course, nobody versed in the history of the movement believes that they intended to redeem their pledge. They had need of Darnley until the Queen should be disposed of. After that the mad youth could be easily cast aside, and the way to the throne would be clear for Moray. In defence of these nobles it may be answered, that they were acting in the interest of religion, which they were persuaded would be in danger as long as a Catholic monarch occupied the throne. I admit the interests of religion are preferable to the interests of a dynasty, and, if one must be sacrificed, it should be the dynasty. So far we might put ourselves in the place of the conspirators and frame a defence of their conduct. But unless we likewise admit that the end justifies the means we cannot deny the baseness and villany of this plot.

The work proceeds. Moray is notified to be within convenient distance of Edinburgh. On March 9th, 1566, about seven o'clock in the evening, while Mary is at supper with a few attendants and Rizzio, a door opening into a private stairway leading from Darnley's apartments to the Queen's, opens, and Darnley enters in an apparently friendly mood. The meaning of this unexpected entrance soon becomes evident. The evil-boding figure of Lord Ruthven, in full armour, appears in the door, his face haggard and his eyes sunken, for he has risen from a bed of sickness to direct the work of blood. A number of associates follow him. Rizzio, understanding their purpose, flees for protection behind the Queen, and cries out for justice. The Queen attempts to protect her faithful servant, but is rudely thrust aside, and the defenceless Secretary, being dragged, wounded and bleeding, to the door, is dispatched with fifty-six stabs. "Ah, poor Davit" (says Mary as she hears the dying Rizzio's groans)--"ah, poor Davit, my good and faithful servant; may the Lord have mercy on your soul!"

Three months after this tragedy James VI. was born. Considering the time and place chosen for the murder, we have good reason to suspect that harm was intended to the Queen herself, and to the future heir to the throne, as well as to Rizzio. Add to this the remarks dropped by a certain confidant of the conspirators, and suspicion gives place to conviction. Randolph, the English Ambassador, writing nearly a month before to Leicester, referred to the plot, and said that if it should take place "David shall have his throat cut within these ten days. Many things," he adds, "grievouser and worse than these are brought to my ears, yea, of things intended against her own person, which, because I think better to keep secret than to write to Mr. Secretary (Cecil), I speak of them but now to Your Lordship."

Mary was kept closely guarded, and Darnley himself, observing the movements of the traitors, began to fear for his own safety.

Darnley could be led by ambition into a rash act, but he had not reached that depth of wickedness in which the heart becomes callous to the feelings of humanity.

Stricken partly by remorse for his unfaithful and ungrateful conduct to his wife, and partly by fear of his threatened ruin, in the gray of the morning succeeding the night of murder, while all was still in Holyrood, the wretched and repentant youth stole quietly up to the Queen's chamber, and, throwing himself on his knees before her, said: "Ah, my Mary, I am bound to confess at this time, though now it is too late, that I have failed in my duty towards you. The only atonement which I can make for this, is to acknowledge my fault and sue for pardon, by pleading my youth and great indiscretion. I have been most miserably deluded and deceived by the persuasions of these wicked traitors, who have led me to confirm and support all their plots against you, myself, and all our family. I see it all now, and I see clearly that they aim at our ruin. I take God to witness that I never could have thought, nor expected, that they would have gone to such lengths. I confess that ambition has blinded me. But since the grace of God has stopped me from going further, and has led me to repent before it is too late, as I hope, I ask you, my Mary, to have pity on me, have pity on our child, have pity on yourself. Unless you take some means to prevent it, we are all ruined, and that speedily."

This report of Darnley's prayer for pardon is taken from a fragmentary sketch of Mary's life, written most probably by Claude Nau, her Secretary during the most part of her imprisonment in England, who, during the long hours of conversation with his captive mistress, had special opportunities of hearing her own account of that painful ordeal through which she had passed. It is all the more interesting, therefore, to note the answer that Nau attributes to the Queen. "The Queen," he continues, "still troubled with the agitation and weakness arising from the emotions of the previous night, answered him frankly, for she had never been trained to dissemble, nor was it her custom to do so: 'Sire,' she said, 'within the last twenty-four hours you have done me such a wrong that neither the recollection of our early friendship, nor all the hopes you can give me of the future, can ever make me forget it. As I do not wish to hide from you the impression which it has made on me, I may tell you that I think you will never be able to undo what you have done. You have committed a very grave error. What did you hope to possess in safety without me? You are aware that, contrary to the advice of those very persons whom you now court, I have made earnest suit to obtain for you of them the very thing which you think you can obtain through their means and wicked devices. I have been more careful about your elevation than you yourself have been. Have I ever refused you anything that was reasonable, and which was for your advantage, by placing you above those persons who to-day are trying to get both you and me into their power, that they may tread us under their feet? Examine your conscience, Sire, and see the blot of ingratitude with which you have stained it. You say you are sorry for what you have done, and this gives me some comfort; yet I cannot but think that you are driven to it rather by necessity than led by any sentiment of true and sincere affection. Had I offended you as deeply as can be imagined, you could not have discovered how to avenge yourself on me with greater disgrace and cruelty. I thank God that neither you nor anyone in the world can charge me with ever having done or said aught justly to displease you, were it not for your own personal good. Your life is dear to me, and God and my duty oblige me to be as careful of it as of my own. But since you have placed us both on the brink of the precipice, you must now deliberate how we shall escape the peril.'"

Such we can well believe to have been the feeling words of the outraged wife and queen. She had been humiliated by her husband in the eyes of the nation and of the world; and the ingratitude of him to whom she had been so devoted had inflicted on her heart a wound that she feared time could never heal. The bonds of love, which had been severed in spite of her and could not be reunited by an act of her will, no longer bound her to him, but "God and her duty" did, and his life would still be dear to her.

A plan of escape was arranged, and Darnley, acting with more coolness and shrewdness than was his wont, had the guards removed from the royal apartments, and, two nights later, he and Mary, accompanied by a few faithful attendants, having stealthily escaped from the palace by a back way, mounted their horses and hurried off to Dunbar.

Once more free to appeal to the loyalty of her people, the Queen had nothing to fear. The traitor lords, outwitted and alarmed, dispersed and fled, some--especially those most prominent in the execution of the murder--betaking themselves across the border, and others withdrawing to retreats in the country. Mary was now in a position in which, had she been of a vindictive nature, she could have taken complete revenge on her enemies. But her habitual clemency prevailed, and her ear was soon again open to the prayers for pardon that reached her from the conspirators.

Her generous conduct could not fail to win hearts even among her former foes, and when, three months afterwards, James VI. was born in Edinburgh Castle, hearty demonstrations of joy marked the event throughout the whole realm. "I never," wrote the French Ambassador, Le Croc, to Cardinal Beaton, "saw Her Majesty so much beloved, honoured and esteemed, nor so great a harmony among all her subjects as at present is by her wise conduct; for I cannot perceive the smallest difference or division."

But the seeds of dissension were still alive. A new Cabinet had been formed in which hitherto discordant elements were mechanically united. Atholl, Huntly and Bothwell held prominent places; and Moray, who, by a plausible story, had exonerated himself from responsibility in the Rizzio murder, was taken into confidence. Maitland was afterwards admitted to his former post of Secretary. Darnley was furious against Moray and Maitland; against Bothwell he had no complaint, a circumstance worth noting. He was displeased with Mary because she allowed herself to be influenced by Moray and Maitland, whom he believed to be traitors. There may, perhaps, be some justification for the unfortunate Darnley's conduct at this juncture. It is possible that his brief complicity with the late conspirators had taught him a lesson which Mary, who was clement and forgiving almost to a fault, had yet to learn, namely, the deep treachery of some in whom she was putting her trust. Be this as it may, Darnley soon began to reap the bitter fruits of his mad crime. The nobles that he had left in the lurch cordially hated him; the Queen, whom he had so grievously betrayed, while she did what she could to please and pacify him, could not entrust him with the power he desired. He became the source of keen and uninterrupted grief to Mary, which added to her partial loss of health since the birth of her son, and the political dangers that threatened her independence, made her wish for death. She was brought to the point of death by an illness with which she was stricken during a visit to the remote border hamlet of Jedburgh, in October, 1566, but recovered to drag on her weary life. Her health and spirits, however, seem to have been considerably broken. "The Queen breaketh much," wrote Drury, "and is subject to frequent fainting fits." Melville, her close acquaintance, says, "she was somewhat sad when solitary." The French Ambassador gives his opinion as to the cause of her troubles: "I do believe the principal part of her disease to consist of a deep grief and sorrow, nor does it seem possible to make her forget the same. Still she repeats these words: 'I could wish to be dead.'"

The touch of care had blanched her cheek, her smile was sadder now;

The weight of royalty had pressed too heavy on her brow.

CHAPTER VI.

THE TRAGEDY OF KIRK O'FIELD AND ITS SEQUEL.

Darnley left the court in one of his sullen moods in December, 1566, and shortly after was stricken with smallpox at Glasgow. Notwithstanding his past ingratitude and infidelity, Mary, on hearing of his misfortune, sent her own physician to attend him, and a little later, having proceeded to Glasgow herself, brought him back with her to Edinburgh. Not yet being free from infection, he was placed in a house known as the Kirk O'Field, on the outskirts of the city. Mary visited him frequently and, as far as could be judged from outward signs, a complete reconciliation was effected. But the evil genius of the Stewarts again held sway. On February 10th, about 3 o'clock in the morning, the Kirk O'Field was blown into the air with gunpowder, and the mortal career of Darnley, who had just turned his twentieth year, was brought to a tragic close. Suspicions pointed to Bothwell as the author of the crime. The Earl of Lennox, Darnley's father, sued for a trial. Bothwell promptly offered himself up, and, being tried before his peers, was acquitted.

I have now arrived at the most complicated question in Mary's history, and before offering an opinion on the events that ensued, I shall mention some of them in chronological order.

Bothwell was acquitted on April 12th; on April 24th, Mary, while returning from a visit to her child at Stirling, was intercepted by him, and--willingly or unwillingly--carried off to the Castle of Dunbar. Twelve days afterwards, a promise of marriage having first been obtained from her, she was brought back to Edinburgh by Bothwell and lodged in the Castle. Eight days later she was married to Bothwell in Holyrood, before a Protestant minister.

These events have all along been interpreted in two widely different senses. One interpretation makes Mary an accomplice in the murder of her husband; the other makes her an innocent but injured woman. The historians hostile to her, catching their inspiration from the pages of George Buchanan, maintain that previously to Darnley's murder, she was familiar beyond due measure with Bothwell; that when she visited Darnley at Glasgow, it was as the agent of Bothwell to enveigle the intended victim to where he could be conveniently dispatched; that the reconciliation was feigned on her part; that when the murder was accomplished, she used her authority to shield Bothwell; and, finally, that she was carried off by him according to her own desire.

I admit that from a slight study of her life one is apt to be impressed with the thought, that the Mary Stewart of this period is not the Mary Stewart of earlier, or even later times. Something unusually weak, which leaves the suspicion of guilt, seems to characterize her conduct. I believe, however, that the more fully the sources of information are studied, the clearer will it appear that no evidence on which she can be justly convicted, has yet been adduced; but that, on the contrary, the conviction will grow in the minds of sincere enquirers, that she was first gravely injured, and next gravely calumniated, for party ends. It should be borne in mind that an accused person must be presumed innocent until his guilt is proved. This is a principle recognized in all law, and one that has something exceptionally strong to recommend it in the present case.

Until the death of Darnley, no word had been uttered against Mary's character as a woman. On the contrary, her praises were sounded on all sides, and even those who were leagued with her foes sometimes bore testimony to her virtues. The Privy Council itself, shortly before Darnley fell ill, spoke of him as one "honoured and blessed with a good and virtuous wife." But when lying served the purpose, especially in a struggle against a Papist "idolatress," who would scruple at it? Men who could unctuously quote Scripture, while engaged in the most disgraceful and unlawful work, and could, as Skelton thinks, perjure themselves with a good conscience, could hardly be expected to lose an opportunity of blackening the character of an unsanctified woman, for the glory of God and the advancement of Calvinism.

Who, on the other hand, were Mary's accusers? They were those who profited by her overthrow; those who had been known traitors and had been guilty of grievous offences against her; and those who, beyond doubt, have been convicted of caluminating her in many particulars. Of the last mentioned class the most notorious is George Buchanan, a man who owed his life to her clemency, who had been enriched by her warm-hearted liberality, who had penned his most polished verses in praise of her distinguished beauty and virtues, but who, when misfortune fell upon her, sold his venal pen to her enemies, and clothed in classical Latin the calumnies by which they hoped to overthrow her cause and establish their own. Now, students of this period of Scottish history know that Buchanan has been convicted of calumny in many particulars of Mary's life. This is beyond controversy, established by official records of the time. The presumption of calumny, therefore, attaches to his other accusations, and until these are proved to be true from reliable sources, they cannot decide anything against her. Furthermore, Buchanan's "Detectio," which was written to ruin Mary's cause in England, was prepared at the instigation of her enemies, and Buchanan's services were engaged only because he was a good Latinist. "The book was written by him," writes Cecil, "not as of himself, nor in his own name, but according to the instructions given him by common conference of the Lords of the Privy Council of Scotland"--the Moray party. It may also be mentioned that while the English translation of the "Detectio" was fathered by Cecil, and dedicated to Queen Elizabeth, the "Defence" of Mary, written by Bishop Leslie, was suppressed by the authorities at Westminster immediately it appeared.

So much for presumptive argument; but how explain the strange series of events after Darnley's murder?

Mary, after the murder of her husband, was like one who does not know what moment a mine is going to explode under her feet. She had got an inkling, through reports from London, gathered by her Ambassador in Paris, of the plot to murder Rizzio, of the conspiracy against the life of Darnley, and of harm intended to herself. The two first having been so emphatically verified, had she not reason to fear that the next would soon be consummated in her own person? Her support, too, if we except Bothwell, was, at that critical time, slender indeed. Moray, her Prime Minister who, with something akin to the wild goose instinct of approaching storms, always managed to get away whenever any disagreeable work was ready for execution, had left Edinburgh on the eve of the murder and remained absent.

It is commonly asserted by Mary's adversaries that Bothwell's trial was a farce; nor do I deny that it was. But was Mary responsible for the farce any more than Bothwell's peers who acquitted him? One reason why the trial proved a farce was, that Bothwell had too many secrets in his keeping--secrets which, others besides himself, who perhaps were uttering expressions of pious horror at the crime, were about as deeply stained with the blood of Darnley as he. I do not claim that the Queen was perfectly persuaded of Bothwell's innocence. I say, however, that as matters then stood, there were various reasons that well might lead her to believe a plot had been formed against him; some of which were, on the one hand, the treasonable character of many who were now opposed to him, and, on the other, Bothwell's strict loyalty. With regard to this celebrated Earl, it may, I think, be truly said, that whatever his faults or his vices, besides being the most powerful, he had proved himself one of the most loyal of the Scottish nobles. James Hepburn (Earl of Bothwell) had inherited many important offices. He was Lord Admiral of Scotland, Keeper of Edinburgh Castle and of Hermitage Castle, Sheriff of the Western Lothians, and Lieutenant of the Border. No Scottish nobleman of his rank was more sincerely hated by Elizabeth. As early as 1560, Throckmorton, the English Ambassador to Paris, referred to the "glorious, boastful, rash and hazardous" Bothwell as one who should be watched. The sword of Bothwell was never wanting when the cause of his sovereign required its aid. A Protestant in religion, he had stood by Mary of Lorraine in her troubles with the Anglicizing party, and had intercepted a quantity of Elizabeth's gold that had been sent to the Scottish rebels; he had supported Mary herself against the Moray faction who revolted after her marriage with Darnley; and he was one of the first to escape from Holyrood on the night of Rizzio's murder, and arouse the country in her defence. In view of these facts, and of the widespread treachery existing among the nobles, nobody should be surprised if, at the time of the Kirk O'Field tragedy, Bothwell, considered in his public character, stood high in the opinion of the Queen and was regarded as her strongest and surest defence against the dangers by which she was encompassed.

A week after Bothwell's acquittal, a curious deed was accomplished which helps to explain the events that immediately followed. All the influential members except one, who were present at the Parliament held the same day, signed a document known in history as the "Ainslie Tavern Band," by which they engaged to do all in their power to promote a marriage between Bothwell and the Queen. In addition to this, if we accept the testimony of Claude Nau, these nobles sent a deputation to Mary, who represented that, seeing the disturbed condition of the realm, it was necessary that she should marry, and unanimously pressed her to accept Bothwell for husband. Mary refused, and reminded them of the report current about his connection with her late husband's death. The deputies had a ready reply. Bothwell, they said, had been legally acquitted by the Council; besides (to quote Nau), "they who made the request to her do so for the public good of the realm, and as they were the highest of the nobility, it would be for them to vindicate a marriage brought about by their advice and authority."

It is difficult to discover the motives that prompted some of the nobles to sign this objectionable bond. In this, very probably, as in many similar instances, indifferentism, self-interest, or fear of differing from the stronger party, led a number to subscribe. But, if we read the motives of the prime movers in the light of subsequent events, we can discover the old design for Mary's overthrow carried out under a new form. Even James Anthony Froude, one of the last men in the world from whom we should expect to hear it, suggests that several at least of the nobles appended their names in deliberate treachery to the Queen.

But where the treachery? I have already pointed out that the attempts to overthrow Mary's authority had hitherto failed chiefly because she was beloved by the people. To succeed against her, therefore, it was necessary to bring her into disgrace before the Scottish nation; and how could this be more successfully done than by drawing her into a marriage with the man who was widely believed to be the murderer of her husband, and then rising up in apparent indignation against the union?

In view of the facts I have just indicated, it is not surprising that, having fallen into the hands of Bothwell, and having been detained by him, Mary should have made the best of the case by consenting to marry him. I do not pretend to decide how far her consent was obtained by persuasion, or how far by force. Both were used. But it should not be forgotten, that for more than six mouths after the event, the public records of Scotland refer to the intercepting of the Queen by Bothwell as a forcible and treasonable act, and speak of her as having been compelled, through fear and other unlawful means, to give her promise of marriage; and it was only when changed circumstances demanded a change of tactics, that the worthies who had hurled her from the throne began to assert that what had been done by Bothwell had been done with her consent. However, leaving aside the question of violence, see what influence persuasion itself could have had. Bothwell was not without certain favourable qualities. His sterling loyalty and great power were invaluable to one in Mary's difficult circumstances. But if these were insufficient to gain his end, there was the agreement signed by the nobles. "And when," writes Mary, giving an account of her marriage to her friends in France, "he saw us like to reject all his suit and offers, in the end he showed us how far he was proceeded with our whole nobility and principals of our estate, and what they had promised him under their handwrits. If we had cause to be astonished, we remit us to the judgment of the King, the Queen, our uncle, and others our friends." Could Mary, with her sore experience of their turbulency, lightly oppose the will of so many of her nobility as set forth in that celebrated "Band?" She might express doubt as to the genuineness of their signatures; but Bothwell could point out that, although she was already in his power nearly twelve days, not one whose name was subscribed thereto had moved hand or foot to liberate her.

If, placed in these circumstances, without any indication that protracted resistance would result in her rescue, she consented to marry Bothwell, is there not sufficient reason for her action, without the theory of an old and ungovernable passion for the "rugged Border Lord"? It is poor philosophy to invent theories to account for events of which we already see adequate cause. Mary may, or may not, have been infatuated with Bothwell; but that she was must be proved--if proved at all--independently of the fact that she married him. In the presumption, warranted by law, reason and common sense, of her innocence, we can account satisfactorily for her marriage. Why then resort to the presumption, warranted neither by law, reason nor common sense, of her guilt, in order to explain it?

It may seem strange that, whatever her circumstances were, she should have married a man who had a wife living. But it must not be forgotten that the Catholic Archbishop of St. Andrews had declared Bothwell's former marriage invalid on the ground of consanguinity within the forbidden degree, from which no dispensation had been obtained. It is true that at a later date Mary regarded her marriage with Bothwell as invalid;[#] but it cannot be inferred that she contracted it in bad faith, for in the meantime doubts may have arisen as to whether the Archbishop's decision was founded on fact.--A good deal of uncertainty still hangs over the value of this decision. Besides, she must have learned, what does not appear to have occurred to the mind of the Archbishop, that, owing to the ecclesiastical impediment of raptus, she was incapable, no matter how earnestly she may have desired it, of contracting valid matrimony with Bothwell, without having first regained his liberty.

[#] I do not think it can be any longer doubted that Mary learned in the course of time to regard her marriage with Bothwell as invalid; and I am surprised that so eminent and enlightened a writer as Mr. Skelton should argue that her "subsequent anxiety to obtain a divorce from Bothwell proves that she continued to believe that the marriage was binding." She was too well versed in Catholic doctrine and in the history of Henry the Eighth's conflict with Rome to hope for a divorce from Bothwell, if she believed the marriage was binding. At any rate, her instructions to Bishop Leslie, whom she sent to Rome in 1575, leave it beyond doubt that it was not a divorce, but merely a declaration that the marriage was null from the beginning, that she asked of the Pope. "Take good heed," she said, "that the Holy Father shall publicly announce that the pretended marriage contracted between me and Bothwell, without any legality but by a pretended procedure is of no (force). For although there are many reasons which, as you know, make it clearly invalid in itself, yet the matter will be much clearer if his Holiness, acting as the most certain lawyer of the Church, will come forward to annul it." (Published from a Cottonian MS. by the late Rev. Joseph Stevenson, S.J., in notes to his preface to Claude Nau's narrative.)