Life of Mary Queen of Scots, Volume 2 (of 2)

When Throckmorton came into Scotland, in July 1567, although he was allowed no more access to the Queen than had been granted to the French ambassador, yet, as his instructions authorized him to treat with the Lords of Secret Council, he of course remained. From them he received an explanation of their late proceedings, containing some of the most glaring contradictions ever exhibited in a State paper. They do not throw out the most distant suspicion of the Queen being implicated in Bothwell’s guilt; on the contrary, they continue to express their conviction that she became his wife very unwillingly, and only after force had been used; but they allege, as their reason for imprisoning her, the change which took place in her mind an hour or two after she parted with her husband at Carberry Hill. They state, that, immediately after, Bothwell, “caring little or nothing for her Majesty” left her to save himself, and that after she, caring as little for him, had parted company from him, and voluntarily come with them to Edinburgh, they all at once, and most unexpectedly, “found her passion so prevail in maintenance of him and his cause, that she would not with patience hear speak any thing to his reproof, or suffer his doings to be called in question; but, on the contrary, offered to give over the realm and all, so that she might be suffered to enjoy him, with many threatenings to be revenged on every man who had dealt in the matter.”[117 - Keith, p. 418. It is worth noticing, that no proof of this absurd falsehood is offered – no allusion being even made to the letter which had been shown to Grange, and which, though only the first of a series of forgeries, yet having been hastily prepared to serve the purpose of the hour, seems to have been destroyed immediately.] This was surely a very sudden and inexplicable change of mind; for, in the very same letter, with an inconsistency which might almost have startled themselves, these veracious Lords declare, that “the Queen, their Sovereign, had been led captive, and, by fear, force, and other extraordinary and more unlawful means, compelled to become bed-fellow to another wife’s husband;” that even though they had not interfered, “she would not have lived with him half a year to an end;” and that at Carberry Hill, a separation voluntary on both sides took place. Was it, therefore, for a moment to be credited, that during the short interval of a few hours, which elapsed between this separation and Mary’s imprisonment in Loch-Leven, she could either have so entirely altered her sentiments regarding Bothwell, or, if they had in truth never been unfavourable, so foolishly and unnecessarily betrayed them, as to convince her nobility, that to secure their own safety, and force her to live apart from him, no plan would be of any avail, but that of shutting her up in a strong and remote castle? And even if this expedient appeared advisable at the moment, did they think that, if Mary was now restored to liberty, she would set sail for Denmark, and join Bothwell in his prison there? No; they did not go so far; for, in conclusion, they assured Throckmorton, that, “knowing the great wisdom wherewith God hath endowed her,” they anticipated that within a short time her mind would be settled, and that as soon as “by a just trial they had made the truth appear, she would conform herself to their doings.”[118 - Keith, Ibid.]

“By the above answer,” says Keith, “I make no doubt but my readers will be ready enough to prognosticate what shall be the upshot of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton’s negotiations with the rebels in favour of our Queen.” There can be no doubt that the same motives (whatever these might be) which led to Mary’s imprisonment, would have equal force in keeping her there. The whole history of this conspiracy may be explained in a few words. When Morton and the other Lords took up arms at Stirling, they were, to a certain extent, sincere; they believed (especially those of them who had been his accomplices) that Bothwell was the murderer of Darnley, and that he was anxiously endeavouring to get the young Prince into his power. This they determined to prevent, and having won over Sir James Balfour, the governor of the Castle, they advanced to Edinburgh. Bothwell retired to Dunbar, taking the Queen along with him. But the Lords knew that Mary entertained no affection for her husband, and they therefore hoped to create a division between them. They accomplished this object at Carberry Hill, and reconducted the Queen to Edinburgh. There, though not sorry that she had parted from her husband, Mary did not express any high approbation of the conduct of Lords who, when she was first seized by Bothwell, did not draw a sword in her defence, and now that she had become his wife, according to their own express recommendation recorded in the bond they had given him, openly rebelled against the authority with which they had induced her to intrust him. Morton recollected at the same time his share in Rizzio’s assassination, and the disastrous consequences which ensued, as soon as Mary made her escape from the thraldom in which he had then kept her for several days. He determined not to expose himself to a similar risk now, especially as he had an army at his command; if he disbanded it, he might be executed as a traitor, – if he remained at the head of it, he might become Regent of Scotland. These were the secret motives by which his conduct was regulated; – having taken one step he thought he might venture to go on with another; he commenced with defending the son, and ended by dethroning the mother.

Four different plans were now in agitation, by adopting any of which it was thought the troubles of the kingdom might be brought to a conclusion. The first was suggested by the Queen’s friends assembled at Hamilton; their proposal was, to restore the Queen to her liberty and throne, having previously bound her, by an express agreement, to pardon the rebel Lords, to watch over the safety of the Prince, to consent to a divorce from Bothwell, and to punish all persons implicated in the murder of Darnley. The other three schemes came from Morton and his party, and were worthy of the source from which they came. The first was, to make the Queen resign all government and regal authority in favour of her son, under whom a Council of the nobility should govern the realm, whilst she herself should retire to France or England, and never again return to her own country. The second was, to have the Queen tried, to condemn her, to keep her in prison for life, and to crown the Prince. The third was, to have her tried, condemned, and executed, – a measure which would have disgraced Scotland in even its most barbarous times, and which nothing but the violence of party feeling could now have suggested.[119 - Keith, p. 420.] The English ambassador, knowing the wishes of his mistress, did not hesitate to assure her that there was no probability of any of the more lenient proposals being adopted; and he took care to remind the Lords, that “it would be convenient for them so to proceed, as that by their doings they should not wipe away the Queen’s infamy, and the Lord Bothwell’s detestable murder, and by their outrageous dealings bring all the slander upon themselves.” At Morton’s request, he likewise suggested to Elizabeth, that it would be proper to send a supply of ten or twelve thousand crowns to aid the Lords in their present increased expenditure; and this he said was the more necessary, because Lethington and others had reminded him that, notwithstanding all her Majesty’s fair words, Murray, Morton, and the rest, “had in their troubles found cold relief and small favour at her Majesty’s hands.”[120 - Throckmorton’s Letter in Keith, p. 420, et seq.] No wonder that, in moments when his better nature prevailed, Throckmorton felt disgusted with the double part he was obliged to act, and spoke “honestly and plainly” of it to Melville. “Yea,” says Sir James, “he detested the whole counsel of England for the time, and told us friendly what reasoning they held among themselves to that end; namely, how that one of their finest counsellors (Cecil) proposed openly to the rest, that it was needful for the welfare of England, to foster and nourish the civil wars, as well in France and in Flanders, as in Scotland; whereby England might reap many advantages, and be sought after by all parties, and in the meantime live in rest, and gather great riches. This advice and proposition was well liked by most part of the Council; yet an honest counsellor stood up and said, it was a very worldly advice, and had little or nothing to do with a Christian commonweal.”[121 - Melville’s Memoirs, p. 197.]

The Earl of Murray was in the meantime anxiously watching the progress of affairs in Scotland, and, though still in France, had so contrived, that he possessed as much influence in the counsels of the nation as Morton himself. The Lords indeed had long been in close correspondence with him. Letters from them were forwarded to him by Cecil, who exchanged frequent communications with Murray; and, on the 26th of June, four days before Throckmorton left London for Scotland, Cecil wrote to the English ambassador at Paris, that “Murray’s return into Scotland was much desired, for the weal both of England and Scotland.”[122 - Whittaker, vol. i. p. 228.] But as Murray had attempted to ingratiate himself at the French Court, by exaggerating his fidelity to Mary, he found it impossible to disengage himself immediately from the connexions he had there made, not anticipating so sudden a revolution in the state of affairs at home. He sent, however, an agent into Scotland, of the name of Elphinston, whom he commissioned to attend to his interests, and whom the Lords allowed to visit the Queen at Loch-Leven, though they refused every body else. It is not likely that Morton, who had thus a second time been engaged in setting up a ladder for Murray to ascend by, was altogether pleased to find that he could not obtain the first place for himself. As soon as he determined to force Mary to abdicate the Crown, he saw that he would be obliged to yield the Regency to Murray, supported as that nobleman was, both by his numerous friends in England and Scotland, and the earnest recommendations of Knox and the other preachers, who, in their anxiety to see their old patron once more Lord of the ascendant, “took pieces of Scripture, and inveighed vehemently against the Queen, and persuaded extremities against her, by application of the text.”[123 - Throckmorton in Keith, p. 422.] Morton, however, consoled himself with the reflection, that he was in great favour with Murray, and that, by acting in concert with him, he would enjoy a scarcely inferior degree of power and honour.

Preparatory to extorting from her an abdication, the Lords anxiously circulated a report, that the Queen was devotedly and almost insanely attached to Bothwell. They did not venture, it is true, to put this attachment to the test, by publicly offering her reasonable terms of accommodation, which, if she had refused, all men would have acknowledged her infatuation, and deserted her cause; – they brought her to no trial, – they proved her guilty of no crime; all they did was to endeavour to impose upon the vulgar. They asserted that Mary would not agree to prosecute the perpetrators of the murder, after she had already prosecuted them, – and that she would not consent to abandon a husband whom she had already abandoned, and with whom, they themselves had declared, only a few weeks before, she could not, under any circumstances, have lived for many months. Throckmorton, who was willing enough to propagate all the absurd falsehoods they told him, wrote to Elizabeth, – “she avoweth constantly that she will live and die with him; and saith, that if it were put to her choice to relinquish her Crown and kingdom, or the Lord Bothwell, she would leave her kingdom and dignity, to go as a simple damsel with him; and that she will never consent that he shall fare worse, or have more harm than herself.”[124 - Robertson, Appendix to vol. i. No. XXI.] But the numerous party in favour of the Queen openly avowed their disbelief of these reports; and Elizabeth herself, who began to fear that, in sending Throckmorton to the rebel Lords, she had countenanced the weaker side, wrote to her ambassador on the 29th of August in the following terms, which, as they are used by an enemy so determined as Elizabeth, speak volumes in favour of Mary: – “We cannot perceive, that they, with whom they have dealt, can answer the doubts moved by the Hamiltons, who, howsoever they may be carried for their private respects, yet those things which they move will be allowed by all reasonable persons. For if they may not, being noblemen of the realm, be suffered to hear the Queen, their Sovereign, declare her mind concerning the reports which are made of her by such as keep her in captivity, how should they believe the reports, or obey them which do report it?”[125 - Robertson, Appendix to vol. i. No. XXII.]

That Mary refused to return to her throne, unless Bothwell was placed upon it beside her, is an assertion so ridiculous, that no time need be lost in refuting it. That she may not have chosen to submit to an immediate divorce from one whom all her nobility had recommended to her as a husband, and by whom she might possibly have a child, is within the verge of probability. She would naturally be anxious to avoid doing any thing which would be equivalent with acknowledging her belief of his guilt, and might have appeared to implicate her in the suspicion attached to him. She had not married Bothwell till he had been judicially acquitted; and were she to consent to be divorced from him before he was again tried, she would seem to confess, that she had previously sanctioned a procedure possessing the show of justice, without the substance.[126 - Throckmorton, in one of his letters, mentions explicitly, that Mary had given him the very reasons stated above for refusing to renounce Bothwell. But as Throckmorton could communicate with Mary only through the channel of the rebel Lords, who, he says, “had sent him word,” it is not at all improbable, that her message may have been a good deal garbled by the way. The passage in Throckmorton’s letter is as follows: – “I have also persuaded her to conform herself to renounce Bothwell for her husband, and to be contented to suffer a divorce to pass betwixt them. She hath sent me word, that she will in no wise consent unto that, but rather die: grounding herself upon this reason, taking herself to be seven weeks gone with child; by renouncing Bothwell, she should acknowledge herself to be with child of a bastard, and to have forfeited her honour, which she will not do to die for it. I have persuaded her to save her own life and her child, to choose the least hard condition.” Robertson – Appendix to vol. i. No. XXII. It was, perhaps, this passage in Throckmorton’s despatch to England, that gave rise to a vulgar rumour, which was of course much improved by the time it reached France. Le Laboureur, an historian of much respectability, actually asserts that the Queen of Scots had a daughter to Bothwell, who was educated as a religieuse in the Convent of Notre Dame at Soissons. Vide Laboureur Addit. aux Mem. de Castelnau, p. 610. Of course, the assertion is altogether unfounded.] There can be no doubt, however, that if Bothwell’s guilt had been distinctly proved to her, and if she could have disunited herself from him without injury to her reputation or her prospects, she would have been the very last person to have objected either to see Darnley’s death revenged, or herself freed from an alliance into which she had been forced against her will.

But the Lords of Secret Council, conscious as they were of the injustice of their proceedings, had gone too far to recede, and were determined not to rest satisfied with any half-measures. On the 24th of July 1567, Lord Lindsay and Sir Robert Melville (brother to Sir James), were commissioned to pass to Loch-Leven, and to carry with them deeds or instruments of abdication.[127 - Some historians have asserted, that Lord Ruthven accompanied the two Commissioners mentioned in the text. But this is not the case, for he was present at a conference with the English ambassador, Throckmorton, on the very day the others were at Lochleven. Throckmorton in Keith, p. 426.] These instruments were three in number. By the first, Mary was made to resign the Crown in favour of her son, – by the second, to constitute the Earl of Murray Regent during his nonage, – and, by the third, to appoint a Council to administer the Government until Murray’s return home, and, if he should refuse to accept of the regency, until her son’s majority. It was of course well known to the rebels, that the Queen would not willingly affix her signature to deeds by which she was to surrender all power, and to reduce herself at once to the station of a subject, without receiving in return any promise of liberty, or the enjoyment of a single worldly good. Yet they had the effrontery to aver, that rather than submit to a separation from one with whom “she could not have lived half-a-year to an end,” she preferred becoming a landless and crownless pensioner, on the bounty of such men as Morton and his accomplices.

Were we to single out the day in Mary’s whole life in which it might be fairly concluded that she suffered the most intense mental anguish, we should fix on the 25th of July 1567, the day on which the Commissioners had their audience. Shut up in a gloomy edifice, which, though dignified with the name of a castle, was little else than a square tower of three stories; and instead of a numerous assemblage of obsequious nobles, attended by only three or four female servants; – it must have required a more than common spirit of queenly fortitude to support so great a reverse of fortune.[128 - Pennant, in his “Tour in Scotland,” thus describes Lochleven, and the island where the Queen resided: – “Lochleven, a magnificent piece of water, very broad but irregularly indented; is about twelve miles in circumference, and its greatest depth about twenty-four fathoms. Some islands are dispersed in this great expanse of water, one of which is large enough to feed several head of cattle; but the most remarkable is that distinguished by the captivity of Mary Stuart, which stands almost in the middle of the lake. The castle still remains, consists of a square tower, a small yard with two round towers, a chapel, and the ruins of a building, where (it is said) the unfortunate Princess was lodged. In the square tower is a DUNGEON, with a vaulted room above, over which had been three other stories.” – Tour in Scotland, vol. i. p. 64.] But the misery of her situation was now to be increased a hundred fold, by a blow the severest she had yet experienced. When the report first reached her, that it was in contemplation to force her to abdicate her crown, she indignantly refused to believe so lawless an attempt possible. Mary had been all her life fond of power, and proud of her illustrious birth and rank; and there were few subjects on which she dwelt with greater pleasure, than her unsullied descent from a “centenary line of kings.” Was she now, without a struggle, to surrender the crown of the Stuarts into the hands of the bastard Murray, or the blood-stained Morton? Was she to submit to the bitter mockery, introduced in the very preamble to the instrument of demission, which stated, that, ever since her arrival in her realm, she had “employed her body, spirit, whole senses and forces, to govern in such sort, that her royal and honourable estate might stand and continue with her and her posterity, and that her loving and kind lieges might enjoy the quietness of true subjects;” but that, being now wearied with the fatigues of administration, she wished to lay down her sceptre?[129 - Keith, p. 431.] Even though prepared to lay it down, was she also to countenance falsehood, and practise dissimulation?

When the commissioners arrived at Lochleven, Sir Robert Melville, knowing that Lindsay was personally disagreeable to his Sovereign, came to her at first alone. Opening to her his errand, and, addressing her with respect, and professions of attachment (for she had often employed him before about her person, or as her ambassador to foreign courts), he urged every argument he could think of to persuade her to affix her signature to the deeds. She listened to him with calm dignity and unshaken resolution. She heard him describe the distracted state of Scotland – the impossibility of ever prevailing on all parties to submit again to her sway – the virulence of her enemies, and the apparent lukewarmness of her friends. She allowed him to proceed from these more general topics, to others more intimately connected with her own person. She listened to his assurance, that, if she continued obstinate, it was determined to bring her to trial, – to blacken her character, by accusing her of incontinency, not only with Bothwell, but with others, and of the murder of her late husband, and, upon whatever evidence, to condemn and execute her.[130 - Keith, p. 426. – Whittaker, vol. i. p. 299.] But she remained unmoved, and preserved the same composure of manner, though not without many a secret throb of pain, at the discovery of the utter ingratitude and perfidy of those whom she had so often befriended and advanced. As a last expedient, Melville produced a letter from Throckmorton, in which the ambassador advised her to consult her personal safety, by consenting to an abdication – a somewhat singular advice to be given by one who affected to have come into Scotland for the express purpose of securing her restoration to the throne.[131 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 166, and 344.] But she only remarked on this letter, that it convinced her of the insincerity of Elizabeth’s promises of assistance.

Melville now saw that there was no alternative, and that Lindsay must be called in to his assistance. Notorious for being one of the most passionate men in Scotland, Lindsay burst into the Queen’s presence, with the instruments in his hands, and rage sparkling in his eyes. Mary, for the first time, became agitated, for she recollected the evening of Rizzio’s murder, when Lindsay stood beside the gaunt form of Ruthven, instigating him to the commission of that deed of cruelty. With fearful oaths and imprecations, this unmannered barbarian, entitled to be called a man only because he bore the external form of one, vowed, that unless she subscribed the deeds without delay, he would sign them himself with her blood, and seal them on her heart.[132 - Leslie, p. 37. – Jebb, vol. ii. p. 221 and 222.] Mary had a bold and masculine spirit; but, trembling under the prospect of immediate destruction, and imagining that she saw Lindsay’s dagger already drawn, she became suddenly pale and motionless, and would have fallen in a swoon, had not a flood of tears afforded her relief. Melville, moved perhaps to contrition by the depth of her misery, whispered in her ear, that instruments signed in captivity could not be considered valid, if she chose to revoke them when she regained her liberty. This suggestion may have had some weight; but almost before she had time to attend to it, Lindsay’s passion again broke forth, and, pointing to the lake which surrounded her confined residence, he swore that it should become her immediate grave, if she hesitated one moment longer. Driven to distraction, and scarcely knowing what she did, Mary seized a pen, and without reading a line of the voluminous writings before her, she affixed her name to each of them, as legibly as her tears would permit. The Commissioners then took their departure, secretly congratulating themselves, that, by a mixture of cunning and ferocity, they had gained their end. Mary, no longer a Queen, was left alone to the desolate solitude of her own gloomy thoughts.[133 - Goodall, ibid. – Freebairn, p. 147. – Whittaker, vol. i. p. 301. et seq.– Chalmers, vol. i. p. 248.]

As soon as Lord Lindsay returned to Edinburgh, and notified the success of his mission, it was determined by Morton and his associates that the Prince should be crowned with as little delay as possible. Sir James Melville, who was considered a moderate man by both parties, was sent to the Lords at Hamilton, to invite their concurrence and presence on the occasion. He was received courteously; but the nobility there would not agree to countenance proceedings which they denounced as treasonable. On the contrary, perceiving the turn which matters were about to take, they retired from Hamilton to Dumbarton, where they prepared for more active opposition. They signed a bond of mutual defence and assistance, in which they declared, that owing to the state of captivity in which the Queen was detained at Loch-Leven, her Majesty’s subjects were prevented from having free access to her, and that it therefore became their duty to endeavour to procure her freedom, by all lawful means, however strong the opposition that might be offered. This bond was signed by many persons of rank and influence, among whom were the Archbishop of St Andrews, the Earls of Argyle and Huntly, and the Lords Ross, Fleming, and Herries.[134 - Keith, p. 436.]

On the 29th of July 1567, James was publicly crowned at Stirling. He was anointed by Adam, Bishop of Orkney, in the parish church, and the Earl of Morton took the oath of coronation in the Prince’s name, who was little more than a year old. On returning in procession to the Castle, the Earl of Athol carried the crown, Morton the sceptre, Glencairn the sword, and Mar the new made King. All public writs were thenceforth issued, and the government was established, in the name and authority of James VI.[135 - History of James VI. p. 17. Keith, p. 438.] The infant King was in the power of his mother’s deadliest enemies; and of course they resolved that neither her religion nor modes of thinking should be transmitted to her son. Buchanan was appointed his principal tutor, and if early precept can ever counteract natural affection, there is good reason to suppose, that, together with her crown, the filial love of her child was taken from Mary.

Only a few days after the coronation, the Earl of Murray returned to Scotland. He came by the way of London, where he concocted his future measures with Cecil and Elizabeth. He had some difficulty in fixing on the course which would be most expedient for him to pursue. He knew that the regency was about to be offered to him; but he also knew how unlawfully his sister’s abdication had been obtained, and that there was a strong party in Scotland who were still bent on supporting her authority. Were he at once to place himself at the head of a faction which might afterwards turn out to be the weaker of the two, he incurred the risk of falling from his temporary eminence lower than ever. He resolved therefore, with his usual caution, to feel his way before he took any decisive step. Sir James Melville was sent to meet him at Berwick; and from him he learned that even Morton’s Lords had by this time split into two parties, and that while one-half were of opinion that Murray should accept of the regency without delay, and give his approval to all that had been done in his absence, the other, among whom were Mar, Athol, Lethington, Tullibardin, and Grange, prayed him to bear himself gently and humbly towards the Queen, and to get as much into her favour as possible, as her Majesty was of “a clear wit, and princely inclination,” and the time might come when they would all wish her at liberty to rule over them.[136 - Melville’s Memoirs, p. 193. Keith, p. 442. et seq.] Murray, who adopted on this occasion Elizabeth’s favourite maxim, – “Video et taceo,” disclosed his mind to no one, until he ascertained for himself the precise state of affairs, and of public feeling in Scotland.

To be the better informed, he determined on visiting the Queen personally at Loch-Leven. He was accompanied by Athol, Morton, and Lindsay. When Mary saw her brother, a crowd of recollections rushing into her mind, she burst into tears, and it was some time before she could enter into conversation with him. At length she desired that the others would retire, and they had then a long private conference, of which the particulars are not fully known. Mary had flattered herself that she might place some reliance on Murray’s affection and gratitude, but she had egregiously mistaken his character. Having, by this time, secretly resolved to accept the regency at all hazards, his only desire was to impress her with a belief, that he assumed that office principally with the view of saving her from a severer fate, and that he was actually conferring a favour on her by taking her sceptre into his own hands. Reduced already to despair, the Queen listened, with tears in her eyes, to Murray’s representations, and at length became convinced of his sincerity, and thanked him for his promises of protection. Thus the Earl and his friends were able to give out, that Mary confirmed, by word of mouth, what she had formerly signed with her hand, and that she entreated her brother to accept the Government.[137 - Throckmorton’s Letter in Keith, p. 444 et seq.] Besides, if she were ever restored to the throne, she would not be disposed to treat with severity one who had been artful enough to persuade her, that, in usurping her authority, he was doing her a service.

On the 22d of August 1567, James, Earl of Murray, was proclaimed Regent; and, in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, before the Justice Clerk and others, he took the oaths, and accepted the charge. He first, however, made a long discourse, in which, with overacted humility, he stated his own insufficiency, and expressed a desire that the office had been conferred on some more worthy nobleman.[138 - What Mark Antony, according to Shakespeare, said of Cæsar, might be, with propriety, applied to the Earl of Murray:“You all did see that, on the Lupercal,I thrice presented him a kingly crown,Which he did thrice refuse. – Was this ambition?”] But his scruples were easily conquered; and, under the title of Regent, he became, in fact, King of Scotland, until James VI. should attain the age of seventeen.[139 - Anderson, vol. ii. p. 251 and 254. – Chalmers, vol. ii. p. 355.] He proceeded to establish himself in his Government by prudent and vigorous measures. He made himself master of the Castles of Edinburgh and Dunbar, and other places of strength; he contrived either to bring over to his own side, or to overawe and keep quiet, most of the Queen’s Lords; and he severely chastised such districts as continued disaffected. A Parliament was summoned in December, at which the imprisoning and dethroning of the Queen were declared lawful, and, what is remarkable, the reason assigned for these measures had never been hinted at before Murray’s return, – that there was certain proof that she was implicated in the murder of Darnley. This proof was stated to consist in certain “private letters, written wholly with the Queen’s own hand.” They were not produced at the time, but will come to be examined more particularly afterwards. All that need be remarked here, is the sudden change introduced by the Regent into the nature of the allegations against Mary. It had been always given out previously, that she was kept in Loch-Leven, because she evinced a determination to be again united to Bothwell; but now, an entirely new and more serious cause was assigned for her detention.[140 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 66. – Anderson, vol. ii. p. 206 et seq.]

CHAPTER VIII.

MARY’S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN, AND THE BATTLE OF LANGSIDE

With few comforts and no enjoyments, Mary remained closely confined in the Castle of Loch-Leven. Her only resources were in herself, and in the religion whose precepts she was ever anxious not only to profess, but to practise. Though deprived of liberty and the delights of a court, she was able to console herself with the reflection, that there is no prison for a soul that puts its trust in its God, and that all the world belongs to one who knows how to despise its vanities. Yet the misfortunes which had overtaken her were enough to appal the stoutest heart. Her husband had been murdered, she herself forced into an unwilling marriage, her kingdom taken from her, her child raised up against her, her honour defamed, and her person insulted, – all within the short space of four months. History records few reverses so sudden and so complete. Many a masculine spirit would have felt its energies give way under so dreadful a change of fortune; and if Mary was able to put in practice the Roman maxim, Ne cedere malis, sed contra audentior ire, it would be to exalt vice and libel virtue to suppose, that she could have been inspired with strength for so arduous a task by aught but her own integrity.

It was not these more serious calamities alone whose load she was doomed to bear; there were many petty annoyances to which she was daily and hourly subject. Margaret Erskine, the Lady of Loch-Leven, and widow of Sir Robert Douglas, who fell at the battle of Pinkie one-and-twenty years before, was a woman of a proud temper and austere disposition. Soured by early disappointment, for, previous to her marriage with Sir Robert, she had been one of the rejected mistresses of James V., she chose to indulge her more malignant nature in continually exalting her illegitimate offspring the Earl of Murray above his lawful Queen, now her prisoner. Her servants, of course, took their tone from their mistress; and there was one in particular, named James Drysdale, who held a place of some authority in her household, and who, having had some concern in the murder of Rizzio, and being a bigoted and unprincipled fanatic, entertained the most deadly hatred against Mary, and had been heard to declare, that it would give him pleasure to plunge a dagger into her heart’s blood. This savage probably succeeded in spreading similar sentiments among the other domestics; and thus the Queen’s very life seemed to hang upon the prejudices and caprices of menials.[141 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 299, and Chalmers, vol. i. p. 275 and 278.]

But numerous and violent as Mary’s enemies may have been, few could remain near her person, without becoming ardently attached to her. Hence, throughout all her misfortunes, her own immediate attendants continued more than faithful. At Loch-Leven, it is true, although her rebellious nobles had been willing to allow her a suitable train, the absence of accommodation would have rendered their residence there impossible. One or two female, and three or four male servants, were all, over whom Mary, the Queen of Scotland, and Dowager of France, could now exercise the slightest control. Of these, John Beaton was the individual upon whose assiduity she placed most reliance. But the influence which the fascination of her manners, and the beauty of her person, obtained for her, over two of the younger branches of the House of Loch-Leven, made up for the want of many of her former attendants. The persons alluded to were George Douglas, the youngest son of Lady Douglas, about five-and-twenty years of age, and William Douglas, an orphan youth of sixteen or seventeen, a relative of the family, and resident in the Castle. So forcibly was George Douglas, in particular, impressed with the injustice of Mary’s treatment, that he resolved on sparing no pains till he accomplished her escape; and his friend William, though too young to be of equal service, was not less ardent in the cause.[142 - Jebb, vol. ii. p. 230. – Keith, p. 471 – and Chalmers, vol. i. p. 275.] George commenced operations, by informing Mary’s friends in the adjoining districts of Scotland, of the design he had in view, and establishing a communication with them. At his suggestion, Lord Seaton, with a considerable party, arrived secretly in the neighbourhood of Loch-Leven, and held themselves in readiness to receive the Queen as soon as she should be able to find her way across the lake. Nor was it long before Mary made an attempt to join her friends. On the 25th of March 1568, she had a glimpse of liberty so enlivening, that nothing could exceed the bitterness of her disappointment. Suffering as she did, both in health and spirits, she had contracted a habit of spending a considerable part of the morning in bed. On the day referred to, her laundress came into her room before she was up, when Mary, according to a scheme which Douglas had contrived, immediately rose, and resigning her bed to the washer-woman, dressed herself in the habiliments of the latter. With a bundle of clothes in her hand, and a muffler over her face, she went out, and passed down unsuspected to the boat which was waiting to take the laundress across the lake. The men in it belonged to the Castle; but did not imagine any thing was wrong, for some time. At length one of them observing, that Mary was very anxious to keep her face concealed, said in jest, – “Let us see what kind of a looking damsel this is;” and attempted to pull away her muffler. The Queen put up her hands to prevent him, which were immediately observed to be particularly soft and white, and a discovery took place in consequence. Mary, finding it no longer of any use, threw aside her disguise, and, assuming an air of dignity, told the men that she was their Queen, and charged them upon their lives to row her over to the shore. Though surprised and overawed, they resolutely refused to obey, promising, however, that if she would return quietly to the castle, they would not inform Sir William Douglas or his mother that she had ever left it. But they promised more than they were able to perform, for the whole affair was soon known, and George Douglas, together with Beaton and Sempil, two of Mary’s servants, were ordered to leave the island, and took up their residence in the neighbouring village of Kinross.[143 - Sir William Drury’s Letter in Keith, p. 470.]

But neither the Queen nor her friends gave up hope. George Douglas continued indefatigable, though separated from her; and William supplied his place within the Castle, and acted with a degree of cautious and silent enterprise beyond his years. It was probably in reference to what might be done by him, that a small picture was secretly conveyed to Mary, representing the deliverance of the lion by the mouse.[144 - Buchanan’s Cameleon, p. 13.] Little more than a month elapsed from the failure of the first attempt, before another was adventured, and with better success. On Sunday, the second of May, about seven in the evening, William Douglas, when sitting at supper with the rest of the family, managed to get into his possession the keys of the Castle, which his relation, Sir William, had put down beside his plate on the table. The young man immediately left the room with the prize, and, locking the door of the apartment from without, proceeded to the Queen’s chamber, whom he conducted with all speed, through a little postern gate, to a boat which had been prepared for her reception. One of her maids, of the name of Jane Kennedy, lingered a few moments behind, and as Douglas had locked the postern gate in the interval, she leapt from a window, and rejoined her mistress without injury. Lord Seaton, James Hamilton of Rochbank, and others who were in the neighbourhood, had been informed by a few words which Mary traced with charcoal on one of her handkerchiefs, and contrived to send to them, that she was about to make another effort to escape, and were anxiously watching the arrival of the boat. Nor did they watch in vain. Sir William Douglas and his retainers, were locked up in their own castle; and the Queen, her maid, and young escort, had already put off across the lake. It is said that Douglas, not being accustomed to handle the oar, was making little or no progress, until Mary herself, taking one into her own hands, lent him all the aid in her power. It was not long before they arrived safely at the opposite shore, where Lord Seaton, Hamilton, Douglas, Beaton, and the rest, received the Queen with every demonstration of joyful loyalty. Little time was allowed, however, for congratulations; they mounted her immediately upon horseback, and surrounding her with a strong party, they galloped all night, and having rested only an hour or two at Lord Seaton’s house of Niddry, in West Lothian, they arrived early next forenoon at Hamilton. Mary’s first tumultuous feelings of happiness, on being thus delivered from captivity, can hardly be imagined by those who have never been deprived of the blessing of liberty. It is fair, however, to state, that her happiness was neither selfish nor exclusive; and it deserves to be recorded to her honour, that till the very latest day of her life, she never forgot the services of those who so essentially befriended her on this occasion. She bestowed pensions upon both the Douglases, – the elder of whom, became afterwards a favourite with her son James VI., and the younger is particularly mentioned in Mary’s last will and testament. Nor was the faithful Beaton allowed to go unrewarded.[145 - Jebb, vol. ii. p. 65 and 230. – Keith, p. 471. – Freebairn, p. 152, et seq. – Chalmers, vol. i. p. 277, et seq. The interest taken in Queen Mary by George Douglas, is ascribed by Mackenzie to a motive less pure than the affection of a good subject. His chief characteristic, we are told by that author, was an excessive love of money, and it was by bribing him, he asserts, with the best part of what gold and jewels she had about her, that Mary prevailed upon him to assist her. But this statement does not seem well authenticated. Another story, still more improbable, was told by the Earl of Murray to the English ambassador, Sir William Drury, namely, that Mary had entreated him to allow her to have a husband, and had named George Douglas as the person she would wish to marry. Murray must have fabricated this falsehood, in order to lower the dignity of the Queen; but he surely forgot that the reason assigned in justification of her imprisonment in Loch-Leven, was her alleged determination not to consent to a separation from Bothwell. How then did she happen to wish to marry another? See Sir William Drury’s Letter in Keith, p. 469.]

The news that Mary was arrived at Hamilton, and that noblemen and troops were flocking to her from all quarters, was so astounding, that the Regent, who was not many miles off, holding courts of justice at Glasgow, refused at first to credit the report. He would soon, however, (without other evidence) have discovered its truth, from the very visible change which took place even among those whom he had previously considered his best friends. “A strange alteration,” says Keith, “might be discovered in the minds and faces of a great many; some slipped privately away, others sent quietly to beg the Queen’s pardon, and not a few went publicly over to her Majesty.” In this state of matters, Murray was earnestly advised to retire to Stirling, where the young King resided; but he was afraid that his departure from Glasgow might be considered a flight, which would at once have animated his enemies and discouraged his friends. He, therefore, resolved to continue where he was, making every exertion to collect a sufficient force with as little delay as possible. He was not allowed to remain long in suspense regarding Mary’s intentions, for she sent him a message in a day or two, requiring him to surrender his Regency and replace her in her just government; and before the Earls, Bishops, Lords, and others, who had now gathered round her, she solemnly protested, that the instruments she had subscribed at Loch-Leven were all extorted from her by fear. Sir Robert Melville, one of those who, in this new turn of affairs, left Murray’s party for the Queen’s, gave his testimony to the truth of this protest, as he had been a witness of the whole proceeding. The abdication, therefore, was pronounced ipso facto null and void; and Murray having issued a proclamation, in which he refused to surrender the Regency, both parties prepared for immediate hostilities. The principal Lords who had joined the Queen, were Argyle, Huntly, Cassils, Rothes, Montrose, Fleming, Livingston, Seaton, Boyd, Herries, Ross, Maxwell, Ogilvy, and Oliphant. There were, in all, nine Earls, nine Bishops, eighteen Lords, and many Barons and Gentlemen. In a single week, she found herself at the head of an army of 6000 men. Hamilton, not being a place of strength, they determined to march to Dumbarton, and to keep her Majesty there peaceably, until she assembled a Parliament, which should determine on the measures best suited for the safety of the common weal.[146 - Keith, p. 472, et seq.]

On Thursday the 13th of May 1568, Murray was informed that the Queen with her troops was on her way from Hamilton to Dumbarton, and would pass near Glasgow. He instantly determined to intercept her on the road; for should she reach Dumbarton, which was then, and had long been in the possession of the Hamiltons, she would be comparatively beyond his reach, and would have time to collect so great a strength, that she might once more chase him out of Scotland. Besides, the loss of a battle, where the army on either side consisted of only a few thousand men, though it might in all probability be fatal to Mary, was not of so much consequence to the Regent. He therefore assembled his troops, which mustered about 4000 strong, on the Green of Glasgow; and being informed that the Queen was marching upon the south side of the Clyde, he crossed that river, and met her at a small village called Langside, on the Water of Cart, about two miles to the south of Glasgow. Mary was anxious to avoid a battle, for she knew that Murray himself possessed no inconsiderable military talent, and that Kircaldy of Grange, the best soldier in Scotland, was with him. But party spirit ran so high, and the Hamiltons and the Lennoxes, in particular, were so much exasperated against each other, that as soon as they came within sight, it was evident that nothing but blows would satisfy them. The main body of the Queen’s army was under the command of the Earl of Argyle; the van was led by Claud Hamilton, second son of the Duke of Chatelherault; and the cavalry was under the conduct of Lord Herries. The Earl of Huntly would have held a conspicuous place in the battle, but he had set off from Hamilton a few days before to collect his followers, and did not return till it was too late. Murray himself commanded his main body, and the Earl of Morton the van; whilst to Grange was intrusted the special charge of riding about over the whole field, and making such alterations in the position of the battle as he deemed requisite.

Nothing now intervened between the two armies but a hill, of which both were anxious to gain possession, the one marching from the east, and the other from the west. It happened, however, that the ascent on the side next Mary’s troops was the steepest, and a stratagem suggested by Grange secured the vantage-ground to the Regent. He ordered every man who was mounted to take up a foot soldier behind him, and ride with all speed to the top of the hill, where they were set down, and instantly formed into line. Argyle was therefore obliged to take his position on a lesser hill, over against that occupied by Murray. A cannonading commenced upon both sides, and continued for about half an hour but without much effect. At length, Argyle led his forces forward, and determined if possible to carry the heights sword in hand. The engagement soon became general, and advantages were obtained upon both sides. The Earl of Morton, who came down the hill to meet Argyle, succeeded in driving back the Queen’s cannoneers and part of her infantry; whilst on the other hand, Lord Herries, making a vigorous charge on Murray’s cavalry, put them to rout. Judiciously abstaining from a long pursuit, he returned to attack some of the enemy’s battalions of foot, but as he was obliged to advance directly up hill, he was unable to make much impression on them. In the meantime, with the view of obtaining more equal ground, Argyle endeavoured to lead his troops round towards the west, and it was to counteract this movement that the most desperate part of the engagement took place. All the forces of both parties were gradually drawn off from their previous positions, and the whole strength of the battle on either side was concentrated upon this new ground. For half an hour the fortune of the day continued doubtful; but at length the Queen’s troops began to waver, and a re-inforcement of two hundred Highlanders, which arrived just at the fortunate moment for Murray, and broke in upon Argyle’s flank, decided the victory. The flight soon afterwards became general; and though the loss of lives on the Queen’s side did not exceed three hundred, a great number of her best officers and soldiers were made prisoners.[147 - Buchanan, Book xix. – Melville’s Memoirs, p. 200. et seq. – Keith, p. 477. – Calderwood, Crawfurd, and Holinshed. The accounts which historians give of this battle are so confused and contradictory, that it is almost impossible to furnish any very distinct narrative of it, even by collating them all. Robertson hardly attempts any detail, and the few particulars which he does mention, are in several instances erroneous.]

Mary had taken her station upon a neighbouring eminence to watch the progress of the fight. Her heart beat high with a thousand hopes and fears, for she was either to regain the crown of her forefathers, or to become a fugitive and a wanderer she knew not where. It must have been with emotions of no common kind, that her eye glanced from one part of the field to another; – it must have been with throbbing brow and palpitating heart, that she saw her troops either advance or retreat; and when at length she beheld the goodly array she had led forth in the morning, scattered over the country, and all the Lords who had attended her with pride and loyalty, seeking safety in flight, no wonder if she burst into a passion of tears, and lamented that she had ever been born. But the necessity of the moment fortunately put a check to this overwhelming ebullition of her feelings. With a very small retinue of trusty friends, among whom was the Lord Herries, she was quickly hurried away from the scene of her disasters. She rode off at full speed, taking a southerly direction towards Galloway, because from thence she could secure a passage either by sea or land into England or France. She never stopped or closed her eyes till she reached Dundrennan, an abbey about two miles from Kirkcudbright, and at least sixty from the village of Langside.[148 - Keith, p. 481 and 482. – Anderson, vol. iv. p. 1.]

She remained two days at Dundrennan, and there held several anxious consultations with the few friends, who had either accompanied her in her flight, or who joined her afterwards. Lord Herries, her principal adviser, gave it as his decided opinion, that she ought to sail immediately for France, where she had relations on whose affection she could depend, even though they should not be able to secure her restoration to the throne of Scotland. But Mary could not brook the idea of returning as a fugitive to a country she had left as a Queen; and besides, had she placed herself under the protection of Catholics, she might have exasperated her own subjects, and would certainly have displeased Elizabeth and the people of England. She was disposed also to place some reliance on the assurances of friendship she had lately received from the English Queen. She was well aware of the hollowness of most of Elizabeth’s promises; but in her present extremity, she thought that to cross the sea would be to resign her crown forever. After much hesitation, she finally determined on going into England, and desired Herries to write to Elizabeth’s Warden at Carlisle, to know whether she might proceed thither. Without waiting for an answer, she rode to the coast on Sunday the 16th of May, and with eighteen or twenty persons in her train, embarked in a fishing-boat, and sailed eighteen miles along the shore, till she came to the small harbour of Workington, in Cumberland. Thence she proceeded to the town of Cockermouth, about twenty-six miles from Carlisle. Lord Scroope, the Warden on these frontiers, was at this time in London; but his deputy, a gentleman of the name of Lowther, having sent off an express to the Court, to intimate the arrival of the Queen of Scots, assembled, on his own responsibility, the men of rank and influence in the neighbourhood, and having come out to meet the Queen, conducted her honourably to the Castle of Carlisle, with the assurance, that, until Elizabeth’s pleasure was known, he would protect her from all her enemies.

As soon as the important news reached Elizabeth, that Mary was now within her dominions, and consequently at her disposal, she perceived that the great end of all her intrigues was at length achieved. It was necessary, however, to proceed with caution, for she did not yet know either the precise strength of Mary’s party in Scotland, or the degree of interest which might be taken by France in her future fate. She, therefore, immediately despatched Lord Scroope, and Sir Francis Knollys her Vice-Chamberlain, to Carlisle, with messages of comfort and condolence. Mary, who anxiously waited their arrival, anticipated that they would bring consolatory assurances. Her spirits began to revive, and she was willing to believe that Elizabeth would prove her friendship by deeds, as well as by words. But this delusion was destined to be of only momentary duration.[149 - Anderson, vol. iv. p. 1. et seq. – Keith, p. 481.]

CHAPTER IX.

MARY’S RECEPTION IN ENGLAND, AND THE CONFERENCES AT YORK AND WESTMINSTER

If there had been a single generous feeling still lurking in Elizabeth’s bosom, the time was now arrived when it should have discovered itself. Mary was no longer a rival Queen, but an unfortunate sister, who, in her hour of distress, had thrown herself into the arms of her nearest neighbour and ally. During her imprisonment in Scotland, Elizabeth had avowed her conviction of its injustice; and, if it was unjust that her own subjects should retain her in captivity, it would of course be much more iniquitous in one who had no right to interfere with her affairs, and who had already condemned such conduct in others. If it was too much to expect that the English Queen would supply her with money and arms, to enable her to win back the Crown she had lost, it was surely not to be doubted that she would either allow her to seek assistance in France, or, if she remained in England, would treat her with kindness and hospitality. All these hopes were fallacious; for, “with Elizabeth and her counsellors,” as Robertson has justly observed, “the question was, not what was most just or generous, but what was most beneficial to herself and the English nation.”

On the 29th of May 1568, Lord Scroope and Sir Francis Knollys arrived at Carlisle. They were met at some little distance from the town by Lord Herries, who told them, that what the Queen his mistress most desired, was a personal interview with Elizabeth. But they had been instructed to answer, that they doubted whether her Majesty could receive the Queen of Scots, until her innocence from any share in the murder of her husband was satisfactorily established.[150 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 69.] Thus, the ground which Elizabeth had resolved to take was at once discovered. She was to affect to treat the Scottish Queen with empty civility, whilst in reality she detained her a prisoner, until she had arranged with Murray the precise accusation which was to be brought against her, and which, if it succeeded in blackening her character, might justify subsequent severities. Mary could not at first believe that she would be treated with so much treachery; but circumstances occurred every day to diminish her confidence in the good intentions of the English Queen. Under the pretence that there was too great a concourse of strangers from Scotland, Lord Scroope and Sir Francis Knollys ordered the fortifications of Carlisle Castle to be repaired, and Mary was not allowed to ride out to any distance. The most distinguished of the few friends who were now with her, and who remained faithful to her to the end of her life, were Lesley, Bishop of Ross, – the Lords Herries, Livingston, and Fleming, and George and William Douglas. She had also her two secretaries, Curl and Nawe, who afterwards betrayed her, – and among other servants, Beaton, and Sebastian the Frenchman; there were likewise the Ladies Livingston and Fleming, Mary Seaton, Lord Seaton’s daughter, and other female attendants.[151 - Chalmers, vol. i. p. 283.]

Mary’s first interview with the envoys from Elizabeth, prepossessed them both in her favour. “We found her,” they said, “to have an eloquent tongue and a discreet head, and it seems by her doings, that she has stout courage, and a liberal heart adjoined thereto.” When they told her that the Queen, their mistress, refused to admit her to her presence, Mary burst into tears, and expressed the bitterest disappointment. Checking her grief, however, and assuming a tone of becoming dignity, she said, that if she did not receive without delay, the aid she had been induced to expect, she would immediately demand permission to pass into France, where she did not doubt she would obtain what the English Queen denied.[152 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 71.] In the meantime, as she was not allowed to proceed to London herself, she despatched Lord Herries to superintend her interests there; and shortly afterwards, it being represented to her that her person was not in safety so long as she continued so near the Borders, she consented to be removed further into England, and was conveyed to Bolton Castle, a seat of Lord Scroope, in the North Riding of Yorkshire.[153 - Anderson, vol. iv. p. 6. – Chalmers, vol. i. p. 288. Even at Carlisle, Mary was always strictly watched. In one of his letters to Cecil, Knollys writes thus: – “Yesterday, her Grace went out at a postern, to walk on the playing green, towards Scotland; and we, with twenty-two halberdeers, diverse gentlemen and other servants, waited upon her. About twenty of her retinue played at foot-ball before her the space of two hours, very strongly, nimbly, and skilfully, – without any foul play offered, the smallness of their ball occasioning their fair play. And before yesterday, since our coming, she went but twice out of the town, once to the like play of foot-ball, in the same place, and once she rode out a hunting the hare, she galloping so fast upon every occasion, and her whole retinue being so well horsed, that we, upon experience thereof, doubting that, upon a set course, some of her friends out of Scotland might invade and assault us upon the sudden, for to rescue and take her from us; we mean hereafter, if any such riding pastimes be required that way, so much to fear the endangering of her person by some sudden invasion of her enemies, that she must hold us excused, in that behalf.”]

The Regent Murray, on his part, was any thing but inactive. He forced the Earl of Huntly, who had collected upwards of 2000 men, and was marching to the Queen’s assistance when he heard of the unfortunate battle of Langside, to retire to the North, and disband the greater part of his troops; he put to flight the remains of the Queen’s army, which had been again gathered by Argyle and Cassils; and, assembling a Parliament, he procured acts of forfeiture and banishment against many of the most powerful Lords of the opposite party. Elizabeth, perceiving his success, had no desire to check the progress of his usurped authority, whatever professions to the contrary she chose to make to Mary. On the 8th of June, she wrote Murray a letter, in which she addressed him as her “right trusty, and right well-beloved cousin;” told him falsely that the Queen of Scots had confided to her the examination of the differences between herself and her subjects; and advised him to take such steps as would place his own side of the question in the most favourable point of view. Murray had no objection to make Elizabeth the umpire between himself and his sister, well assured that she would ultimately decide in his favour, lest the rival, whom she had once found so formidable, should again become a source of jealousy and alarm.

But Mary had never dreamt of appealing to Elizabeth as to a judge, and she now learned with indignation that her rebellious nobles were to be encouraged to come before that Queen on the same footing with herself. When she asked for a personal interview, it was that she might speak to her cousin as to a friend and equal, of the wrongs she had suffered. She had voluntarily undertaken to satisfy the English Queen, as soon as they conversed together, of her innocence from all the charges which had been brought against her; but she was not to degrade herself by entering into a controversy with her subjects regarding these charges. Accordingly, as soon as she discovered Elizabeth’s insidious policy, she addressed a letter to her, in which she openly protested against it. The letter was in French, and to the following effect: —

“Madam, my good sister, I came into your dominions to ask your assistance, and not to save my life. Scotland and the world have not renounced me. I was conscious of innocence; I was disposed to lay all my transactions before you; and I was willing to do you honour, by making you the restorer of a Queen. But you have afforded me no aid, and no consolation. You even deny me admittance to your presence. I escaped from a prison, and I am again a captive. Can it expose you to censure, to hear the complaints of the unfortunate? You received my bastard brother when he was in open rebellion; I am a Princess, and your equal, and you refuse me this indulgence. Permit me then to leave your dominions. Your severity encourages my enemies, intimidates my friends, and is most cruelly destructive to my interests. You keep me in fetters, and allow my enemies to conquer my realm. I am defenceless; and they enjoy my authority, possess themselves of my revenues, and hold out to me the points of their swords. In the miserable condition to which I am reduced, you invite them to accuse me. Is it too small a misfortune for me to lose my kingdom? Must I, also, be robbed of my integrity and my reputation? Excuse me, if I speak without dissimulation. In your dominions I will not answer to their calumnies and criminations. To you, in a personal conference, I shall at all times be ready to vindicate my conduct; but to sink myself into a level with my rebellious subjects, and to be a party in a suit or trial with them, is an indignity so vile, that I can never submit to it. I can die, but I cannot meet dishonour. Consult, I conjure you, what is right and proper, and entitle yourself to my warmest gratitude; or, if you are inclined not to know me as a sister, and to withhold your kindness, abstain at least from rigour and injustice. Be neither my enemy nor my friend; preserve yourself in the coldness of neutrality; and let me be indebted to other princes for my re-establishment in my kingdom.”[154 - Anderson, vol. iv. p. 95. – Stuart, vol. i. p. 300. It is of Dr Stuart’s translation that we have availed ourselves.]

Unmoved by the forcible representations contained in this and other letters, Elizabeth resolved to treat the Queen of Scots only with greater severity than before, in the hope of intimidating her into a compliance with her wishes. It was with this view that she had removed her to Bolton, where she took care that she should be strictly guarded, and not allowed to hold any intercourse with the loyal part of her Scottish subjects. Lord Fleming, too, whom Mary wished to send as her ambassador to France, was stopped; and she was given distinctly to understand, that she must not expect any of her commands to be obeyed, unless they met with Elizabeth’s approval. The English Privy Council, of course, sanctioned their Sovereign’s severity; and gave it as their opinion, that, until an inquiry had taken place into the whole conduct of the Scottish Queen, it would not be consistent with the honour or safety of the realm to afford her the aid she required. The result of all these machinations, – a result which Elizabeth contrived to bring about with the most consummate art, – was, that Mary agreed to nominate Commissioners to meet the Earl of Murray and the Lords associated with him, and to authorize them, before Commissioners to be appointed by Elizabeth, to state the grievances of which their mistress, the Queen of Scots, complained. Murray approved of this arrangement, because he foresaw from the first how it would end; and Mary consented to it, because she was led to believe, that Murray and his accomplices were summoned solely that they might answer to her complaints. Well aware that their answer could not be satisfactory, she fondly imagined that she would soon be restored to the power they had usurped.

The important Conference, as it was termed, between the three sets of Commissioners, was appointed to be held at York. Mary’s Commissioners were Lesley, Bishop of Ross, the Lords Herries, Livingston, and Boyd, Gavin Hamilton, Commendator of Kilwinning, Sir John Gordon of Lochinvar, and Sir James Cockburn of Stirling.[155 - Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 33.] Murray associated with himself the Earl of Morton, Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney, Pitcairn, Commendator of Dunfermlin, and Lord Lindsay. Macgill and Balnaves, two civilians, Buchanan, whose pen was always at the Regent’s command “through good report and bad report,” Secretary Maitland, and one or two others, came with them as legal advisers and literary assistants.[156 - Buchanan, book xix. It is worth remarking, that of these particular friends of Murray, the two Commissioners, Lord Lindsay and the Commendator of Dunfermlin, and the two lawyers, Macgill and Balnaves, sat on the trial of Bothwell when he was unanimously acquitted. Yet they afterwards accused the Queen of consenting to an unfair trial.] On the part of Elizabeth, the Commissioners were Thomas Howard Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Ratcliffe Earl of Sussex, and Sir Ralph Sadler; and they were invested with full authority to arrange all the differences and controversies existing between her “dear sister and cousin, Mary Queen of Scots,” and James Earl of Murray.[157 - Anderson, vol. iv. Part ii. p. 3.]

On the 4th of October 1568, the conference was opened with much solemnity at York. “The great abilities of the deputies on both sides,” observes Robertson, “the dignity of the judges before whom they were to appear, the high rank of the persons whose cause was to be heard, and the importance of the points in dispute, rendered the whole transaction no less illustrious than it was singular. The situation in which Elizabeth appeared on this occasion, strikes us with an air of magnificence. Her rival, an independent queen, and the heir of an ancient race of monarchs, was a prisoner in her hands, and appeared, by her ambassadors, before her tribunal. The Regent of Scotland, who represented the Majesty, and possessed the authority of a king, stood in person at her bar, and the fate of a kingdom, whose power her ancestors had often dreaded, but could never subdue, was now absolutely at her disposal.” It may, however, be remarked, that the “magnificence” of power depends, in a great degree, on the manner in which that power has been acquired; and when it is recollected that, by secretly and diligently fomenting civil disturbances in Scotland, Elizabeth first attacked Mary’s peace, and then undermined her authority, and that, having subsequently assumed the mask of a friend, only to conceal the scowl of an enemy, she had forcibly arrogated the rank of a judge, her “air of magnificence” is discovered to be little else than stage-trick.

The “Instructions” given to her Commissioners, are of themselves sufficient to show that her desire was not to extinguish, but to encourage animosities between the Queen of Scots and her subjects. She had previously assured Mary, in order to induce her to send Commissioners to York at all, that so far from intending to use any form or process by which her subjects should become her accusers, “she meant rather to have such of them, as the Queen of Scots should name, called into the realm, to be charged with such crimes as the said Queen should please to object against them; and if any form of judgment should be used, it should be against them.”[158 - Anderson, vol. iv. Part I. p. 12.] But as soon as she had persuaded Mary, by these specious promises, to come into Court, she resolved to alter the features of the cause. She instructed her Commissioners to listen particularly to the requests and complaints of the Earl of Murray, and to assure him privately, that if he could prove Mary to have been implicated in her husband’s murder, she should never be restored to the throne. Nay, she went further; she desired it to be intimated to the Regent, that even though he could not prove Mary’s guilt, yet, that if he could attach sufficient suspicion to her, it would be left to himself and his friends to determine under what conditions they would again consent to receive her into Scotland. This was as much encouragement as Murray could desire; for he knew that, by artifice and effrontery, a shade of suspicion might be made to attach itself even to the most perfect. Mary’s Commissioners, on the other hand, though doubting much the impartiality of the party which was to arbitrate between them, felt strong in the justice of their cause; and after protesting that their appearance was not to be construed as implying any surrender of her independence on the part of their mistress, or of feudal inferiority to the Crown of England, they proceeded to give in their complaint. It contained a short review of the injuries the Queen of Scots had suffered since her marriage with Bothwell; – of the rebellion of Morton and others, – of her voluntary surrender at Carberry Hill, – of her imprisonment in Loch-Leven, – of the abdication that had been forced from her, – of the coronation of her infant son, and the assumed regency of the Earl of Murray, – of her defeat at Langside, – and of the undutiful conduct in which the Regent had since persevered.[159 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 128.]

To this complaint it was answered, at great length, by Murray, that the Earl of Bothwell having forcibly carried off the person of the Queen to the Castle of Dunbar, and kept her there a prisoner for some time, had, in the end, suddenly accomplished “a pretended marriage,” which, confirming the nobility in the belief that the Earl was the chief author of the murder of the King, made them determine to take up arms to relieve those who were unjustly calumniated, and to rescue the Queen from the bondage of a tyrant, who had presumptuously attempted to ravish and marry her, though he could neither be her lawful husband, nor she his lawful wife; – that Bothwell came against these nobility, “leading the Queen in his company, as a defence and cloak to his wickedness;” but that, as the quarrel was intended only against him, the Queen was received by the nobles, and led by them into Edinburgh, as soon as she consented to part from the Earl; – that she was then requested to agree that the murderers should be punished, and that the pretended marriage into which she had been led, should be dissolved; – that to this request she only answered, by rigorously menacing all who had taken up arms in her cause, and declaring she would surrender her realm altogether, “so she might be suffered to possess the murderer of her husband;” – that, perceiving the inflexibility of her mind, they had been compelled to “sequestrate her person” for a season; – that, during this time, she had voluntarily renounced the Government, finding herself wearied by its fatigues, and perceiving that she and her people could not well agree; and that she had appointed, during the minority of her son, the Earl of Murray Regent of the realm, and that every thing he had done since had been in accordance with the legal authority with which she had thus invested him; – and that he therefore required, in behalf of his Sovereign Lord the King, to be allowed peaceably to enjoy and govern the country.[160 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 144.]

The “Reply” of Mary’s Commissioners, to this feeble and disingenuous “Answer” of the Earl of Murray, was quite as candid as it was conclusive. It was stated for Mary, that, so far from having been aware, at the time of her marriage, that Bothwell was “known,” or “affirmed,” to be the “chief author” of the horrible murder committed on her late husband, she had seen him solemnly acquitted of all suspicion by a regular trial, according to the laws of the realm, and that most of her principal nobility had solicited her to accept of him as a husband, promising him service, and her Highness loyal obedience, – not one of them, either before or after the marriage, having warned her to avoid it, or expressed their discontent with it, till they suddenly appeared in arms; – that, at Carberry Hill, she willingly parted with Bothwell, as they themselves had seen; but that, if he were in truth guilty of the crimes imputed to him, which she did not then believe, they were to blame for permitting him to escape; – that, upon being taken into Edinburgh, where they had promised to reverence her as their Queen, she found herself treated as their captive; – that, so far from showing any persevering attachment to Bothwell, she repeatedly declared it to be her wish, that the estates of the realm should examine into all the charges which had been made against him; – that, notwithstanding, she had been forcibly carried off under shade of night, and imprisoned against her will in the Castle of Loch-Leven, where she was afterwards made to subscribe instruments of abdication, only through the fear of present death; – that, consequently, the pretended coronation of her son was an unlawful and treasonable proceeding, and the pretended nomination of the Earl of Murray as Regent, a proof of itself that force and fraud had been used; for, even supposing she had been willing to abdicate, if she had been left to her own free choice, there were others whom she would have preferred to appoint to the chief rule during her son’s minority; – that, therefore, she required the Queen of England to support and fortify her in the peaceable enjoyment and government of her realm, and to declare the pretended authority usurped by others null from the beginning.[161 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 162.]

“So far,” says Hume, “the Queen of Scots seemed plainly to have the advantage in the contest; and the English Commissioners might have been surprised, that Murray had made so weak a defence.” The truth is, that not only were the English Commissioners surprised, but the Regent himself felt painfully conscious, that he had entirely failed to offer even a plausible pretext for the dethronement of his sister, and his own usurpation. Elizabeth also, anxious as she was to befriend him, saw that she would be imperatively required, by every principle of justice and good government, to take measures against him, were the discussion allowed to terminate at the point to which it had now been brought. Means were therefore taken to inform Murray, that unless he was able to strengthen his case, and to bring his charges more directly home, the matter would in all probability go against him. Upon this the Regent held a consultation with his friends, Maitland and Buchanan, and the necessity of bringing into play a new device, which had been prepared as a corps-de-reserve, was by all of them felt and acknowledged. Though no evidence had been adduced against her, Mary had already been accused by her brother of having had a share in the murder of Darnley. But as the charge was made soon after his return from France, it was strongly suspected to have been invented only to justify himself for retaining her in Loch-Leven. Now, however, seeing the emergency of his affairs, he determined that something like evidence of its truth should be produced. This evidence consisted of a collection of certain letters and sonnets, alleged to be in the Queen’s own hand, and addressed to the Earl of Bothwell, containing passages which testified at once her love for him, and her guilt towards Darnley. But here the question very naturally occurs, why these important documents should not have been brought forward in the earlier part of the conference; and as Robertson, in endeavouring to account for the delay, appears to have fallen into a mistake, it will be worth while examining, for a moment, the soundness of his hypothesis.

The Duke of Norfolk, Elizabeth’s principal Commissioner, was one of the most powerful of all her nobility, and, since Mary’s arrival in England, he had formed the ambitious project of ascending the Scottish throne by means of a marriage with her. With this view, he had already engaged extensively in secret intrigues, and had, in particular, prevailed on Lethington to approve of his plans, and promise him his support. But Robertson asserts further, that soon after his arrival at York, he won over Murray also to his views, and persuaded him to keep back, for a time, the heaviest part of his accusation against Mary, that her character might not be so fatally blackened. The historian’s assertion, however, is unsupported by the evidence he adduces in its favour, his references to Anderson, to Goodall, and to his own Appendix, being quite unsatisfactory. Whatever promises Murray may, at a subsequent date, have made to Norfolk, it clearly appears that no charge against Mary was delayed one hour at York, in consequence of any understanding between these two noblemen.

It had been all along the Regent’s determination, not to have recourse to the letters, if he could make out a case without them; and even after he perceived that he would require their aid, he did not produce them openly, till they had been first shown privately to the English Commissioners, and their opinion obtained concerning them. It was on the 4th of October that the conference commenced; and on the 10th, Lethington, Macgill, and Buchanan, in a secret interview with Norfolk, Sussex, and Sadler, laid before them the mysterious documents. The nature of their contents was communicated to Elizabeth on the 11th, and she was requested to mention in reply, whether, when publicly adduced and authenticated, they would be sufficient to secure Mary’s condemnation. Murray, therefore, cannot at this time, have entered into any agreement with the Duke of Norfolk; for, so far from keeping back his box-full of letters, he was nervously anxious to ascertain, as speedily as possible, whether Elizabeth would attach any weight to them, or allow them to be branded as palpable forgeries. Had Robertson attended a little more to dates, he would have discovered, that so far from wishing to favour the views of the Duke of Norfolk, Murray informed Elizabeth regarding the letters and their contents, on the very day on which he gave in his first “Answer” to Mary’s Commissioners. Nor had these letters been entirely unheard of till now; for, though they had never been exhibited, they had been expressly alluded to nearly a year before, in an act published by the Lords of Secret Council, on the 4th of December 1567, in which it was asserted, that by the discovery of certain of the Queen’s private letters, sent by her to the Earl of Bothwell, it was “most certain that she was art and part of the actual device and deed of the murder of the King.”[162 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 62.] The same assertion was subsequently repeated, founded upon the same alleged proof, in one of the Acts of the Parliament called by Murray. The only legitimate conclusion therefore to be drawn from his unwillingness to bring forward these letters at York, and make good, by their means the sole charge against the Queen which could justify his usurpation of her authority, is, that he was afraid to expose such fabrications to the eye of day, until he should have received Elizabeth’s assurance that she would treat them with becoming consideration, and assign to them an air of importance, even though forgery, with brazen audacity, was stamped upon their face.[163 - We do not at present stop the course of our narrative to examine these letters more minutely, but we shall devote some time to their consideration afterwards.]

As soon as Elizabeth heard of the letters, and reflected on the turn which they might give to the case, she determined on taking the whole of the proceedings under her own immediate superintendence, and with this view removed the conference from York to Westminster. To the Commissioners previously appointed, she there added the Earls of Arundel and Leicester, Lord Clinton, Sir Nicolas Bacon, and Sir William Cecil. Mary at first expressed satisfaction at this new arrangement, but several circumstances soon occurred which proved, that no favour was intended to her by the change. That which galled her most, was the marked attention paid to the Earl of Murray. Though Elizabeth refused Mary a personal interview, she admitted her rebellious brother to that honour, and thus glaringly deviated from the impartiality which ought to have been observed by an umpire. Accordingly, the Queen of Scots commanded her Commissioners, the Bishop of Ross and Lord Herries, to complain of this injustice. Not to be received into Elizabeth’s presence, she could regard in no other light but as an assumption of superiority, – a parade of rigid righteousness, – and an affected dread of contamination, which, whilst it was meant to imply the purity of the maiden Queen, aimed at exciting suspicion of the purity of another. Continuing to believe that her Scottish rebels had been called before the English Commissioners at her instance, Mary had consented that her representatives should proceed from York to Westminster, to make her complaints as a free Sovereign. In her instructions to the Bishop of Ross, and those associated with him, she expressly told them, that the conference was appointed “only for making a pacification between her and her rebellious subjects, and restoring her to her realm and authority.” She never lost sight of the fact, that she did not appeal to Elizabeth as a suppliant, but as an equal; and she always took care to preserve high and dignified ground. But to depart from this, and before the tribunal of Hampton Court, in which such men as Cecil were able to procure any decision they chose, to undertake to answer every calumnious charge which might be brought against her, never entered into her imagination. “It is not unknown to us,” she wrote to her Commissioners from Bolton, “how hurtful and prejudicial it would be to us, our posterity and realm, to enter into foreign judgment or arbitrement before the Queen our good sister, her Council, or Commissioners, either for our estate, Crown, dignity or honour; – we will and command you, therefore, that you pass to the presence of our said dearest sister, her Council and Commissioners, and there, in our name, extend our clemency toward our disobedient subjects, and give them appointment for their offences committed against us and our realm, – so that they may live, in time coming, in surety under us their head.” – “And, in case they will otherwise proceed, then we will and command you to dissolve this present diet and negotiation, and proceed no further therein, for the causes foresaid.”[164 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 182.]

It may well be conceived, therefore, that when Mary heard of Elizabeth’s kind and familiar treatment of the Earl of Murray, “the principal of her rebels,” she was not a little indignant. She immediately sent word to her Commissioners, that, before proceeding a step further in the negotiation, she considered it right that she should be put on at least an equal footing with the pretended Regent, – for she did not choose that greater respect should be shown to her rebels than to her and her true subjects. There were other three points, of which she thought she had also just cause to complain. First, that though she had come into England on the assurance of friendship, and of her own free will, she had not only seen no steps taken to restore her to her realm and authority, but had most unexpectedly found herself detained a prisoner, and her confinement rendered closer every day; —second, that though, at Elizabeth’s request, she had desired her loyal subjects in Scotland to abstain from hostilities, yet the Earl of Murray had not been prevented from molesting and invading them; – and, third, that having already established the utter groundlessness of the charges brought against her, instead of finding herself reinstated on her throne, the conference had been merely removed to a greater distance, where she could not communicate with her Commissioners so frequently and speedily as was necessary. In consideration of these premises, and especially in consideration of the treatment of the Earl of Murray, “you shall break the conference,” she continued, “and proceed no further therein, but take your leave, and come away. And if our sister allege that, at the beginning, she were content our cause should be conferred on by Commissioners, it is true. But since our principal rebels have free access towards her to accuse us in her presence, and the same is denied to us, personally to declare our innocence, and answer to their calumnies, being held as prisoner, and transported from place to place, though we came into her realm, of our free will, to seek her support and natural amity, we have resolved to have nothing further conferred on, except we be present before her, as the said rebels.”[165 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 184.]

In the mean time, before these letters arrived, the Commissioners had held several sittings at Westminster; and Elizabeth having personally informed Murray, that if he would accuse the Queen of Scots of a share in the murder of Darnley, and produce the letters he had in his possession, she would authorize his continuance in the Regency, he no longer hesitated. On the 26th of November, after protesting that he had been anxious to save, as long as possible, the mother of his gracious King, James VI., from the perpetual infamy which the discovery of her shame would attach to her, and that he was now forced to disclose it, in his own defence, because it was maintained, that his previous answer to the complaint made against him was not sufficient, Murray, in conjunction with his colleagues, presented to the English Commissioners an “Eik” or addition to their “Answer,” in which they formally charged Mary with the murder. As to the reluctance so hypocritically avowed, it has been already seen, that so far back as December 1567, precisely the same charge, though unsupported by any evidence, was brought forward in the Scottish Parliament; and having then served its purpose, was allowed to lie dormant for eleven months. It is true, that there was then, no less than now, a palpable contradiction between this accusation, and the grounds which had always previously been assigned, both for Mary’s “sequestration” in Loch-Leven, and her alleged voluntary abdication. It was not till the public mind had been inflamed, and till opposing interests contributed to involve the truth in obscurity, that the notorious fact was denied or concealed, that Mary had been forced into an unwilling marriage with Bothwell, and that her abduction, and imprisonment in the Castle of Dunbar, were themselves an answer to any suspicion, that she was one of his accomplices in Darnley’s slaughter. But now that Mary was a prisoner, in the hands of a jealous rival, the Regent naturally supposed, that some contradictions would be overlooked; and all at once, assuming a tone of the utmost confidence, and undertaking “to manifest the naked truth,” he ventured on couching his assertion in these terms: – “It is certain, and we boldly and constantly affirm, that as James, some time Earl of Bothwell, was the chief executor of the horrible and unworthy murder, perpetrated in the person of King Henry, of good memory, father to our Sovereign Lord, and the Queen’s lawful husband, – so was she of the fore-knowledge, counsel, and device, persuader and commander of the said murder to be done, maintainer and fortifier of the executors thereof, by impeding and stopping of the inquisition and punishment due for the same, according to the laws of the realm, and, consequently, by marriage with the said James, some time Earl Bothwell, dilated and universally esteemed chief author of the above named murder.”[166 - Goodall, vol. ii. p. 206.] In support of this new charge, the letters and other documents were referred to, and it was promised to produce them as soon as they were called for.

Before they were able to inform their mistress of the unexpected turn which affairs had taken, Mary’s Commissioners received her instructions from Bolton, to proceed no further in the conference. They therefore stated to Elizabeth, that though they were heartily sorry to perceive their countrymen, with a view to colour their unjust and ungrateful doings, had committed to writing a charge of so shameful a sort, they nevertheless could not condescend to answer it, having begun the conference at York as plaintives, and having afterwards found their relative positions altered, Murray being admitted into her Majesty’s presence, to advance his calumnious falsehoods, and Mary being expected to defend herself against them, though kept in imprisonment at a distance. At the same time, according to Mary’s commands, they said that, although the proceedings of the Regent were altogether intolerable and injurious, they would not yet dissolve the conference, provided their mistress were permitted to appear in her own person before the Queen of England and her nobility.[167 - Ibid. p. 220.] To this request Elizabeth would not agree. Her real motive was the fear of truth; that which she assigned was sufficiently preposterous. “As to your desire,” she said to Mary’s Commissioners, “that your Sovereign should come to my presence to declare her innocence in this cause, you will understand, that from the beginning why she was debarred therefrom, was through the bruit and slander that was passed upon her, that she was participant of such a heinous crime as the murder of her husband; and I thought it best for your mistress’s weal and honour, and also for mine own, that trial should be taken thereof before her coming to me; for I could never believe, nor yet will, that ever she did assent thereto.”[168 - Ibid. p. 221.] If Elizabeth had been anxious to see justice done, she could very easily have overcome the squeamish dread of being brought into contact with Mary, the more especially as she arrogated for herself the superior character of judge, as it was only “bruit and slander” that implicated her “dearest sister,” and as she did not, according to her own confession, believe her guilty, even after she had been informed of the existence of the love-letters, and made acquainted with their contents. Both parties, however, continuing alike resolute, the Commissioners of the Queen of Scots intimated, that in so far as they were concerned, the conference might be considered closed.

It is here of some importance to point out, that both Robertson and Hume have deduced an argument against Mary, from their own erroneous manner of stating the proceedings of the conference at Westminster. According to the narrative of both these historians, the reader is led to believe, that Mary was perfectly willing to go on till the moment that Murray accused her of being a sharer in Darnley’s murder, but that, as soon as this charge was made, she drew back as if afraid to meet it. Robertson and Hume would have themselves discovered how unfair this view of the matter was, had they taken the trouble to attend to the dates of the documents connected with the transaction. By these they would have seen, that Mary refused to proceed on the 22d of November 1568, unless admitted equally with the Earl of Murray into Elizabeth’s presence, and that Murray’s accusation was not produced till the 26th.[169 - Ibid. p. 184 and 206.] Thus so far from “recoiling from the inquiry at the critical moment,” as Hume expresses it, she did not hesitate to proceed until she had rebutted every thing which had been advanced against her, and stood on even higher ground than before. It will besides be immediately found, that notwithstanding her previous determination to the contrary, she was no sooner informed of the existence of letters alleged to have been written by her to Bothwell, than she was willing to enter into a proof of their authenticity.

It would not have suited Elizabeth’s views to allow the contending parties to slip through her fingers, before arriving at any definite conclusion. She therefore fell upon an expedient by which she hoped, although the Queen of Scots had withdrawn from the conference, and it consequently should have been considered at an end, to attach to her so great a degree of suspicion, that she might safely detain her from her own realm. She ordered Murray and his colleagues to be called before her Commissioners; and the scene having been arranged before-hand with them, she commanded the Regent to be rebuked for accusing his native Sovereign of a crime so horrible, that if it could be proved true, she would be infamous to all princes in the world. The Regent readily answered, that finding he had displeased her Majesty, he had no objections to show the Commissioners “a collection made in writing of the presumptions and circumstances” by which he had been guided in the charge he had advanced against Mary, and which would satisfy them that it had not been made without due grounds and consideration. This was all that Elizabeth wished. In however glaring a point of view it placed her injustice, she rejoiced that Mary’s Commissioners were no longer attending the conference; for she would now be able to represent to the world, without fear of contradiction, the overwhelming strength of Murray’s evidences, and hold them out as the justification of her own severity. These hopes and plans, however, were very nearly frustrated by the boldness and decision of Mary’s conduct. As soon as she received intelligence of this new accusation, and of the means by which it was to be supported, she resolved that her own innocence and its falsehood should be made apparent; and for this purpose, she even consented to depart from her former demand of being personally admitted to Elizabeth’s presence. She wrote to her Commissioners to resume the duties which they had intermitted, and to renew the conference once more. “We have seen the copy,” she said, “which you have sent us of the false and unlawful accusation presented against us by some of our rebels, together with the declarations and protestations made by you thereon before the Queen of England, our good sister’s Commissioners, wherein you have obeyed our commands to refuse consenting to any further proceedings, if the presence of our sister were refused us. But that our rebels may see that they have not closed your mouths, you may offer a reply to the pretended excuse and cloak of their wicked actions, falsity and disloyalty, whereof you had no information before, it being a thing so horrible, that neither we nor you could have imagined it would have fallen into the thoughts of the said rebels.”[170 - Ibid. p. 283.]