Life of Mary Queen of Scots, Volume 1 (of 2)

In the meantime, the Earl of Morton, who had been left below, to guard the gates, being informed that Rizzio was slain, and that Ruthven and Darnley retained possession of the Queen’s person, made an attempt to seize several of the nobility who lodged in the palace, and whom he knew to be unfavourable to his design of restoring the banished Lords. Whether it was his intention to have put them also to death, it is difficult to say; but it is at all events not likely that he would have treated them with much leniency. The noblemen in question, however, who were the Earls of Huntly, Bothwell, and Athol, the Lords Fleming and Livingston, and Sir James Balfour, contrived, not without much difficulty, to effect their escape. The two first let themselves down by ropes at a back window; Athol, who was supping in the town with Maitland, was apprised of his danger, and did not return to Holyrood that night. He, or some of the fugitives, hastened to the Provost of Edinburgh, and informed him of the treasonable proceedings at the Palace. The alarm-bell was immediately rung; and the civic authorities, attended by five or six hundred of the loyal citizens, hastened down to Holyrood, and called upon the Queen to show herself, and assure them of her safety. But Mary, who was kept a prisoner in the closet in which she had supped, was not allowed to answer this summons, the conspirators well knowing what would have been the consequences. On the contrary, as she herself afterwards wrote to her ambassador in France, she was “extremely threatened by the traitors, who, in her face, declared, that if she spoke to the town’s people they would cut her in collops, and cast her over the walls.” Darnley went to the window, and informed the crowd that he and the Queen were well, and did not require their assistance; and Morton and Ruthven told them, that no harm had been done, and beseeched them to return home, which, upon these assurances, they consented to do.

A scene of mutual recrimination now took place between Mary and her husband, which was prolonged by the rude and gross behaviour of Ruthven. That barbarian, returning to the Queen’s apartment, after having imbrued his hands in the blood of Rizzio, called for a cup of wine, and having seated himself, drained it to the dregs, whilst Mary stood beside him. Being somewhat recovered from the extreme terror she had felt when she saw her Secretary dragged away by the assassins, she rebuked Ruthven for his unmannerly conduct; but he only added insulting language to the crimes he had already committed. Perceiving, however, that her Majesty was again growing sick and ill, (and even without considering, what the conspirators well knew, that she was in the seventh month of her pregnancy, her indisposition will excite little wonder), he proposed to the King that they should retire, taking care to station a sufficiently strong guard at the door of Mary’s chamber. “All that night,” says Mary, “we were detained in captivity within our chamber, and not permitted to have intercommunion scarcely with our servant-women.”[135 - Keith, p. 332 – and Appendix, 126.]

Next morning, although it was Sunday, the conspirators issued a proclamation in the King’s name, and without asking the Queen’s leave, proroguing the Parliament, – and commanding all the temporal and spiritual lords, who had come to attend it, to retire from Edinburgh. Illegal as it was, this proclamation was obeyed; for Morton, and his accomplices, had the executive power in their own hands, and Mary’s more faithful subjects were taken so much by surprise, that they were unable to offer any immediate resistance. Mary herself was still kept in strict confinement; and the only attempt she could make to escape, which was through the assistance of Sir James Melville, failed. Sir James was allowed to leave the Palace early on the forenoon of Sunday; and, as he passed towards the outer gate, Mary happened to be looking over her window, and called upon him imploringly for help. “I drew near unto the window,” says Melville, “and asked what help lay in my power, for that I should give. She said, ‘Go to the Provost of Edinburgh, and bid him, in my name, convene the town with speed, and come and relieve me out of these traitors’ hands; but run fast, for they will stay you.’” The words were scarcely spoken, before some of the guards came up, and challenged Sir James. He told them, he “was only passing to the preaching in St Giles’s Kirk,” and they allowed him to proceed. He went direct to the Provost, and delivered his commission from the Queen; but the Provost protested he did not know how to act, for he had received contrary commands from the King; and, besides, the people, he said, were not disposed to take up arms to revenge Rizzio’s death. Sir James was, therefore, reluctantly obliged to send word to Mary, by one of her ladies, that he could not effect her release. In the course of the day, Mary was made acquainted with Rizzio’s fate, and she lamented the death of her faithful servant with tears. Between seven and eight in the evening, the Earls of Murray and Rothes, with the other banished Lords, arrived from England. During the whole of the night, and all next day, the Queen was kept as close a prisoner as before.

Morton and his accomplices, however, now found themselves in a dilemma. They had succeeded in bringing home their rebel friends, in proroguing or dissolving the Parliament, in conferring upon Darnley all the power he wished, in murdering Rizzio, and in chasing from Court the nobles who had formed part of the administration along with him. But to effect these purposes, they had grossly insulted their lawful sovereign, and had turned her own palace into a prison, constituting themselves her gaolers. Having achieved all their more immediate objects, the only remaining question was – what were they to do with the Queen? If they were to set her at liberty, could they expect that she would tamely forget the indignities they had offered her, or quietly submit to the new state of things they had established? Had they, on the other hand, any sufficient grounds for proceeding to further extremities against her? Would the country allow a sovereign, whose reign had been hitherto so prosperous, to be at once deprived of her crown and her authority?[136 - That something of the kind was actually contemplated, we learn from Mary herself. “In their council,” she says in the letter already quoted, “they thought it most expedient we should be warded in our castle of Stirling, there to remain till we had approved in Parliament all their wicked enterprises, established their religion, and given to the King the crown-matrimonial, and the whole government of our realm; or else, by all appearance, firmly purposed to have put us to death, or detained us in perpetual captivity.” – Keith, Appendix, p. 132.] Daring as these men were, they could hardly venture upon a measure so odious. Besides, Darnley, always vacillating, and always contemptible, was beginning to think he had gone too far; and, influenced by something like returning affection for his beautiful consort, who was probably in a month or two to make him a father, he insisted that the matter should now be allowed to rest where it was, provided Mary would promise to receive into favour the Lords who had returned from banishment, and would grant a deed of oblivion to all who had taken a part in the recent assassination. Morton, Ruthven, Murray, and the rest, were extremely unwilling to consent to so precarious an arrangement; but Darnley overruled their objections. On Monday evening, articles were drawn up for their security, which he undertook to get subscribed by the Queen; and, trusting to his promises, all the conspirators, including the Lords who had just returned, withdrew themselves and their retainers from Holyroodhouse, and went to sup at the Earl of Morton’s.[137 - Ruthven’s “Discourse” concerning the murder of Rizzio, in Keith, Appendix, p. 128.]

As soon as Mary found herself alone with Darnley, she urged, with all the force of her superior mind, every argument she could think of, to convince him how much he erred in associating himself with the existing cabal. She was not aware of the full extent to which he was implicated in their transactions; for he had assured her, that he was not to blame for Rizzio’s murder, and as yet she believed him innocent of contriving it. She spoke to him therefore, with the confidence of an affectionate wife, with the winning eloquence of a lovely woman, and with the force and dignity of an injured Queen. She at length satisfied him, that his best hopes of advancement rested in her, and not on men who having first renounced allegiance to their lawful Queen, undertook to confer upon him a degree of power which was not their’s to bestow. Darnley further learned from Mary, that Huntly, Bothwell, Athol, and others, had already risen in her behalf, and yielding to her representations and entreaties, he consented that they should immediately make their escape together. At midnight, accompanied only by the captain of the guard and two others, they left the palace, and rode to Dunbar without stopping.

In a few days, Mary having been joined by more than one half of her nobility, found herself at the head of a powerful army. The conspirators, on the other hand, seeing themselves betrayed by Darnley and little supported by the country, were hardly able to offer even the shadow of resistance to the Queen. Still farther to diminish the little strength they had, Mary resolved to make a distinction between the old and the new rebels; and, influenced by reasons on which Morton had little calculated, she consented to pardon Murray, Argyle, and others, who immediately resorted to her, and were received into favour. After remaining in Dunbar only five days, she marched back in triumph to Edinburgh, and the conspirators fled in all directions to avoid the punishment they so justly deserved. Morton, Maitland, Ruthven, and Lindsay betook themselves to Newcastle, where, for aught that is known to the contrary, they occupied the very lodgings which Murray and his accomplices had possessed a week or two before.

The whole face of affairs was now altered; and Mary, who for some days had suffered so much, was once more Queen of Scotland. “And such a change you should have seen,” says Archbishop Spottiswood, “that they who, the night preceding, did vaunt of the fact (Rizzio’s murder) as a godly and memorable act, affirming, some truly, some falsely, that they were present thereat, – did, on the morrow, forswear all that before they had affirmed.” But it was not in Mary’s nature to be cruel, and her resentments were never of long continuance. Two persons only were put to death for their share in Rizzio’s slaughter, and these were men of little note. Before the end of the year, most of the principal delinquents, as will be seen in the sequel, were allowed to return to Court. Lord Ruthven, however, died at Newcastle of his old disease, a month or two after his flight thither. His death occasioned little regret, and his name lives in history only as that of a titled murderer.[138 - Keith, p. 334. – Stuart’s History of Scotland, p. 138, et seq.]

CHAPTER XVII.

THE BIRTH OF JAMES VI

Mary’s vigorous conduct had again put her in possession of that rightful authority of which so lawless an attempt had been made to deprive her; but though restored to power, she was far from being likewise restored to happiness. The painful conviction was now at length forced upon her, that she had not in all the world one real friend. She felt that the necessities of her situation forced her to associate in her councils men, who were the slaves of ambition, and whose heartless courtesies were offered to her, only until a prospect of higher advantages held out a temptation to transfer them to another. She had not been long in her own kingdom, before Bothwell and others contemplated seizing her person, and assassinating her prime minister, the Earl of Murray; – she had hardly succeeded in frustrating these designs, when Murray himself directed his strength against her; and now, still more recently, the husband, for whose sake she had raised armies to chase her brother from the country, had aimed at making himself independent, and, to ingratiate himself with traitors, had scrupled not to engage in a deed of wanton cruelty, personally insulting to his wife and sovereign.

Ignorant where to turn for repose and safety, Mary began to lose much of the natural vivacity and buoyancy of her temper; and to feel, that in those turbulent times, she was endowed with too little of that dissimulation, which enabled her sister Elizabeth to steer so successfully among the rocks and shoals of government. In a letter written about this period to one of her female relations in France, she says, touchingly, “It will grieve you to hear how entirely, in a very short time, I have changed my character, from that of the most easily satisfied and care-chasing of mortals, to one embroiled in constant turmoils and perplexities.” “She was sad and pensive,” says Sir James Melville, “for the late foul act committed in her presence so irreverently. So many great sighs she would give that it was pity to hear her, and over-few were careful to comfort her.” But the perfidy of her nobles Mary could have borne; – it was the disaffection and wickedness of her husband that afflicted her most. Anxious to believe that he told her the truth, when he asserted that he was not implicated in the murder of Rizzio, she rejoiced to see him issue a proclamation, declaring that he was neither “a partaker in, nor privy to, David’s slaughter.” But the truth was too notorious to be kept long concealed. Randolph wrote to Cecil on the 4th of April 1566: – “The Queen hath seen all the covenants and bands that passed between the King and the Lords, and now findeth that his declaration before her and Council, of his innocency of the death of David, was false; and is grievously offended, that by their means he should seek to come to the crown matrimonial.” Hence sprang the grief which, in secret, preyed so deeply upon Mary’s health and spirits. Few things are more calculated to distress a generous mind, than to discover that the object of its affections is unworthy the love which has been lavished upon it. The young and graceful Darnley, laying at Mary’s feet the real or pretended homage of his heart, was a very different person from the headstrong and designing King, colleaguing with her rebels, assassinating her faithful servant, and endeavouring to snatch the crown from her head. “That very power,” says Robertson, “which, with liberal and unsuspicious fondness she had conferred upon him, he had employed to insult her authority, to limit her prerogative, and to endanger her person: such an outrage it was impossible any woman could bear or forgive.” Yet Mary looked upon these injuries, coming as they did from the man whom she had chosen to be the future companion of her life, “more in sorrow than in anger;” and though she shed many a bitter tear over his unworthiness, she did not cease to love him.

In the midst of these anxieties, the time for the Queen’s delivery drew near. After a short excursion to Stirling and the neighbourhood, in which she was accompanied by Darnley, Murray, Bothwell and others, she returned to Edinburgh, and, by the advice of her Privy Council, went to reside in the Castle, as the place of greatest security, till she should present the country with an heir to the throne. During the months of April and May, she lived there very quietly, amusing herself with her work and her books, and occasionally walking out, for she had no wheeled carriage. She occupied herself, too, in endeavouring to reconcile those of her nobility whom contrary interests and other circumstances had disunited. It cost her no little trouble to prevail upon the two most faithful of her ministers, the Earl of Huntly her Chancellor, and Bothwell her Lord High Admiral, to submit to the returning influence of their old enemy the Earl of Murray. It was especially galling to them, that Murray and Argyle were the only persons, in addition to the King, allowed to reside in the Castle with Mary. But it was her own wish to have her husband and her brothers beside her on the present occasion; and no representations made by Bothwell or Huntly could alter her resolution. Yet these two Earls went the length of assuring the Queen, that Murray had entered into a new conspiracy with Morton, and that they would probably put in ward both herself and her infant, as soon as it was born. Surrounded as Mary was by traitors, she could not know whether this information was true or not; but her returning affection for Murray prevailed over every other consideration.[139 - Melville’s Memoirs, p. 154 – Goodall, vol. i. p. 286. – Chalmers, vol. ii. p. 164.]

Elizabeth was all this time narrowly watching the progress of affairs in Scotland. Murray’s restoration to favour pleased her much; and, to reconcile Morton and his friends to the failure of their plots, she secretly countenanced and protected them. With her usual duplicity, however, she sent to Edinburgh Henry Killigrew, to congratulate Mary on her late escape, and to assure her that she would give directions to remove Morton out of England. She likewise recalled Randolph, of whose seditious practices Mary had complained; but, as if to be even with the Scottish Queen, she commanded Killigrew to demand the reason why a certain person of the name of Ruxby, a rebel and a Papist, had been protected in Scotland? It would have been better for Elizabeth had she allowed this subject to rest. Though Ruxby feigned himself a refugee from England on account of religion, he had in reality been privately sent to Scotland by Elizabeth herself, and her Secretary Cecil. The object of his mission was to find out whether Mary carried on any secret correspondence with the English Catholics. For this purpose, he was to pretend that he was a zealous supporter of her right and title to the crown of England; and that he had some influence with the English Catholics, all of whom, he was to assert, thought as he did. Having thus ingratiated himself with Mary, he was immediately to betray any discoveries he might make to Cecil. The scheme was ingeniously enough contrived; coming as an avowed enemy to Elizabeth, and she herself actually supplying credentials to that effect, no suspicion was for some time entertained of his real designs. That he was able to learn any thing which could afford the English Queen reasonable ground of offence, is not likely; for though several communications in cipher passed between him and Cecil, their contents were never made public. Shortly before Killigrew’s arrival, Ruxby’s real character had been accidentally discovered; and when the ambassador, more for the sake of aiding than of hindering the spy in the prosecution of his object, made a pro forma request that he should not be harboured any longer, Mary instantly ordered him to be apprehended, and all his writings and ciphers to be seized and examined. The indubitable evidence which they afforded of Elizabeth’s systematic cunning, forced a smile from Mary, and might have brought a blush to the cheek of her rival. The Queen of Scots, however, did not condescend to give any utterance to the feelings which this affair must have inspired; and nothing further is known of Elizabeth’s disgraced and detected minion.[140 - Melville’s Memoirs, p. 156. – Keith, p. 337.]

Early in June, perceiving that the time of her delivery was at hand, Mary wrote letters to her principal nobility, requiring them to come to Edinburgh during that juncture. She then made her will, which she caused to be thrice transcribed; – one copy was sent to France, a second committed to the charge of her Privy Council, and the third she kept herself. The day preceding her delivery, she wrote, with her own hand, a letter to Elizabeth, announcing the event, but leaving a blank “to be filled,” says Melville, “either with a son or a daughter, as it might please God to grant unto her.”

On Wednesday the 19th day of June 1566, between nine and ten in the morning, the Queen was safely delivered of a son. The intelligence was received every where, throughout Scotland, with sincere demonstrations of joy. “As the birth of a prince,” says Keith, “was one of the greatest of blessings that God could bestow upon this poor divided land; so was the same most thankfully acknowledged by all ranks of people, according as the welcome news thereof reached their ears.” In Edinburgh, the triumph continued for several days; and, upon the first intimation of the event, all the nobility in the town, accompanied by most of the citizens, went in solemn procession to the High Church, and offered up thanksgiving for so signal a mercy shown to the Queen and the whole realm.

When the news was conveyed to England, it was far from being heard with so much satisfaction. It was between eleven and twelve on the morning of the 19th, that the Lady Boyne came to Sir James Melville, and told him, that their prayers being granted, he must carry Mary’s letter to London with all diligence. “It struck twelve hours,” says Sir James, “when I took my horse, and I was at Berwick that same night. The fourth day after, I was at London,” – a degree of despatch very unusual in those times. Melville found Elizabeth at Greenwich, “where her Majesty was in great merriness, and dancing after supper. But so soon as the Secretary Cecil sounded the news in her ear of the prince’s birth, all merriness was laid aside for that night; every one that was present marvelling what might move so sudden a changement. For the Queen sat down with her hand upon her haffet (cheek), and bursting out to some of her ladies, how that the Queen of Scotland was lighter of a fair son, and that she was but a barren stock.” Next morning, Elizabeth gave Melville a formal audience, at which, having had time for preparation, she endeavoured to dissemble her real feelings; though, by over-acting her part, she made them only the more apparent. She told him gravely, that the joyful news he brought her, had recovered her out of a heavy sickness, which had held her for fifteen days! “Then I requested her Majesty,” says Melville, “to be a gossip unto the Queen, for our comers are called gossips in England, which she granted gladly to be. Then, I said, her Majesty would have a fair occasion to see the Queen, which she had so oft desired. At this she smiled, and said, that she would wish that her estate and affairs might permit her; and promised to send both honourable lords and ladies to supply her room.”[141 - Melville’s Memoirs, p. 158.]

CHAPTER XVIII.

MARY’S TREATMENT OF DARNLEY, AND ALLEGED LOVE FOR THE EARL OF BOTHWELL

As soon as she had sufficiently recovered to be able to quit the Castle, Mary resolved on leaving the fatigues of government behind, and going for some time into the country. Her infant son was intrusted to the care of the Earl of Mar as his governor, and the Lady Mar as his governess. The time was not yet arrived to make arrangements regarding his education; but the General Assembly had already sent a deputation to the Queen, to entreat that she would allow him to be brought up in the Reformed religion. To this request Mary avoided giving any positive answer; but she condescendingly took the infant from the nurse, and put it into the arms of some of the divines. A prayer was pronounced over it; and Spottiswood assures us, that, at the conclusion, the child gave an inarticulate murmur, which the delighted Presbyterians construed to be an Amen.

It was the seat of the Earl of Mar at Alloa that the Queen first visited. Being not yet equal to the fatigues of horseback, she went on board a vessel at Newhaven, and sailed up the Forth. She was accompanied by Murray and others of her nobility.[142 - Keith, p. 345, and Chalmers, vol. i. p. 180.] Buchanan, whose constant malice and misrepresentation become at times almost ludicrous, says – “Not long after her delivery, on a day very early, accompanied by very few that were privy of her council, she went down to the waterside at a place called the New-haven; and while all marvelled whither she went in such haste, she suddenly entered into a ship there prepared for her. With a train of thieves, all honest men wondering at it, she betook herself to sea, taking not one other with her.” – “When she was in the ship,” he says elsewhere, “among pirates and thieves, she could abide at the pump, and joyed to handle the boisterous cables.”[143 - Buchanan’s History, Book XVIII. – His “Detection,” in Anderson’s Collections, vol. ii. p. 6.; and his “Oration,” p. 44.] It is thus this trustworthy historian describes a sail of a few hours, enjoyed by Mary and her Court.

Darnley, who, though not very contented either with himself or any one else, was about this time much in the Queen’s company, went to Alloa by land, and remained with Mary the greater part of the time she continued at the Earl of Mar’s. The uneasiness he suffered, and the peevish complaints to which he was continually giving utterance, were occasioned by the want of deference, with which he found himself treated by all Mary’s ministers. But the general odium into which he had fallen, was entirely to be attributed to his own folly. Between him and the Earl of Murray there had long existed a deadly hatred against each other; in associating himself with Morton, and plotting against Huntly and Bothwell, he had irremediably offended these noblemen; and in deserting Morton and his faction, he had forever lost the friendship of the only men who seemed willing to regard him with any favour. The distressing consciousness of neglect occasioned by his own misconduct, was thus forced upon him wherever he turned; and instead of teaching him a lesson of humility, it only served to sour his temper, and pervert his feelings. The Queen was deeply grieved to see him so universally hated; and anxiously endeavoured to make herself the connecting link between him and her incensed nobility. This was all she could do; for, even although she had wished it, she could not have dismissed, to please him, such of her ministers as he considered obnoxious; a measure so unconstitutional would have led to a second rebellion. But she hoped by treating her husband kindly, and showing him every attention herself, to make it be understood that she expected others would be equally respectful. Having spent some days together at Alloa, Mary and Darnley went to Peebles-shire to enjoy the amusement of hunting; but finding little sport, they returned on the 20th of August to Edinburgh. Thence, they went to Stirling, taking the young Prince with them, whom they established in Stirling Castle. Bothwell, in the meantime, in his capacity of Lieutenant of the Borders, was in some of the southern shires attending the duties of his charge.[144 - Chalmers, vol. i. p. 181, et seq. Goodall, vol. i. p. 292, et seq.]

It is necessary to detail these facts thus minutely, as Mary’s principal calumniator, Buchanan, endeavours to establish, by a tissue of falsehoods, that immediately after her delivery, or perhaps before it, she conceived a criminal attachment for Bothwell. This absurdity has gained credit with several later writers, and particularly with Robertson, whose knowledge of Mary’s motions and domestic arrangements at the period of which we speak, appears to have been very superficial. Yet he may be regarded as even a more dangerous enemy than the former. Buchanan’s virulence and evident party spirit, carry their own contradiction along with them; whilst Robertson, not venturing to go the same lengths, (though guided in his belief entirely by Buchanan), imparts to the authority on which he trusts a greater air of plausibility, by softening down the violence of the original, to suit the calmer tone of professedly unprejudiced history. In the progress of these Memoirs, it will not be difficult to show that Robertson’s affected candour, or too hastily formed belief, is as little to be depended on as Buchanan’s undisguised malice.

Buchanan wishes it to be believed, in the first place, that Mary entertained a guilty love for Rizzio. He then proceeds to assert, that in little more than three months after his barbarous assassination, she had fallen no less violently in love with Bothwell, although, in the meantime, she had been employed in giving birth to her first child, by a husband, whom he allows she doated on nine or ten months before. To bolster up this story, he perverts facts with the most reckless indifference. One specimen of his style we have already seen in his account of the Queen’s voyage to Alloa; and proceeding with his narrative, we find him positively asserting in the sequel, that for the two or three following months, Mary was constantly in the company of Bothwell, and of Bothwell alone, knowing as he must have done all the while, that Murray and Darnley, Bothwell’s principal enemies, were her chief associates, and that Bothwell spent most of the time in a distant part of the kingdom.

Robertson dates even more confidently than Buchanan, the commencement of Mary’s love for Bothwell at a period prior to her delivery. But upon this hypothesis, it is surely odd, that Murray and Argyle were permitted by the Queen to reside in the Castle previous to and during her confinement, whilst the same favour was peremptorily refused to Bothwell; and it is no less odd, that shortly after her delivery, Secretary Maitland, at the intercession of the Earl of Athol, was received once more into favour, in direct opposition to the wishes of Bothwell. It is no doubt possible, that notwithstanding this presumptive evidence to the contrary, Mary may at this very time have had a violent love for Bothwell; but are we to give credit to the improbability, merely because Buchanan was the slave of party feeling, and Robertson disposed to be credulous? Are the detected fabrications of the one, entitled to any better consideration than the gratuitous suppositions of the other? “Strange and surprisingly wild,” says Keith, “are the accounts given by Knox, but more especially by Buchanan, concerning the King and Queen about this time. I shall not reckon it worth while to transcribe them here; and the best and shortest confutation I could propose of them is, to leave my readers the trouble, or rather satisfaction, to compare the same with the just now mentioned abstracts (of despatches from Randolph to Cecil) and the three following authentic letters,” from the French and Scottish ambassadors and the Queen’s Privy Council.[145 - Keith, p. 345.] Robertson, it is true, after having asserted, that “Bothwell all this while was the Queen’s prime confident,” and that he had acquired a “sway over her heart,” proceeds to confess, that “such delicate transitions of passion can be discerned only by those who are admitted near the persons of the parties, and who can view the secret workings of the heart with calm and acute observation.” “Neither Knox nor Buchanan,” he adds, “enjoyed these advantages. Their humble station allowed them only a distant access to the Queen and her favourite; and the ardour of their zeal, and the violence of their prejudices rendered their opinions rash, precipitate, and inaccurate.” This is apparently so explicit and fair, that the only wonder is, upon what grounds Robertson ventured to make his accusation of Mary, having thus shown how little dependence was to be placed on the only authorities which supported him in it. It appears that he came to his conclusions by a process of his own, which rendered him independent both of Knox and Buchanan. “Subsequent historians,” he says, “can judge of the reality of this reciprocal passion only by its effects.” Robertson must of course have been aware that he thus opened the gate to a flood of uncertainty, seeing that the same effects may spring from a hundred different causes. If a man be found dead, before looking for his murderer, it is always proper to inquire whether he has been murdered. Besides, if effects are to be made the criterion by which to form an opinion, the greatest care must be taken that they be not misrepresented. Mary must not be said to have been a great deal in Bothwell’s company, at a time she was almost never with him, and she must not be described as being seldom with her husband, at a time they were constantly together.

Laing is another and still later writer, who has produced a very able piece of special pleading against Mary, in which a false colouring is continually given to facts. “After her delivery,” he says, “she removed secretly from the Castle, and was followed by Darnley to Alloa, Stirling, Meggetland, and back again to Edinburgh, as if she were desirous to escape from the presence of her husband.” That Darnley followed Mary, is an assumption of Mr Laing’s own. Conceited as the young King was, he would rather never have stirred out of his chamber again, than have condescended to follow so perseveringly one who wished to avoid him, first to Alloa, then to Stirling, then into Peebles-shire, then back again to Edinburgh, and once more to Stirling. The only correct part of Laing’s statement is, that Mary chose to go by water to Alloa, whilst Darnley preferred travelling by land; perhaps because he wished to hunt by the way, or call at the seats of some of the nobility. The distance, altogether, was only twenty miles; and the notion that Mary removed “secretly” from the Castle, for the important purpose of taking an excursion to Alloa, is absolutely ludicrous. In support of his assertion that Mary had lost her heart to Bothwell, Laing proceeds to mention, that, shortly after the assassination of Rizzio, the Earl, for his successful services, was loaded with favours and preferment. That Mary should have conferred some reward upon a nobleman whose power and fidelity were the chief means of preserving her on a tottering throne, is not at all unlikely; but, to make that reward appear disproportioned to the occasion, Laing misdates the time when most of Bothwell’s offices of trust were bestowed upon him. Several of them were his by hereditary right, such as those of Lord High Admiral, and the Sheriffships of Berwick, Haddington, and Edinburgh. Part of his authority on the Borders he had acquired during the time of the late Queen-Regent, Mary’s mother, having been made her Lieutenant, and keeper of Hermitage Castle, in 1558; and it was immediately after his restoration to favour, during the continuance of Murray’s rebellion, that he was appointed Lieutenant of the West and Middle Marches, a situation which implied the superiority of the Abbeys of Melrose and Haddington.[146 - Knox, p. 386 – Anderson, vol. i. p. 90 – Tytler, vol. ii. p. 39 – Chalmers, vol. ii. p. 206-207.] The only addition made to Bothwell’s possessions and titles, in consequence of his services after Rizzio’s death, was that of the Castle and Lordship of Dunbar, together with a grant of some crown lands.[147 - Knox, p. 396, and Chalmers, p. 219.]

There is another circumstance connected with Bothwell, which we omitted to mention before, but which may with propriety be stated here. At the period of which we write, when he is accused of being engaged in a criminal intercourse with Mary, he had been only two or three months married to a wife every way deserving of his love. Three weeks before the death of Rizzio, he had espoused, in the thirty-sixth year of his age, the Lady Jane Gordon, the sister of his friend, the Earl of Huntly. She was just twenty, and was possessed of an elegant and cultivated understanding. They were married at Holyrood, on the 22d of February 1566, after the manner of the Reformed persuasion, in direct opposition to Mary’s wishes. She entertained them, however, at a banquet on the first day; and the feasting and rejoicings continued for a week. “The Queen desired,” says Knox, “that the marriage might be made in the chapel at the mass, which the Earl Bothwell would in no ways grant.”[148 - Knox, p. 392. Chalmers, vol. ii. p. 206 and 218. Laing, vol. i. p. 359. In the first edition of Tytler’s “Vindication,” Bothwell, being confounded with the former Earl, his father, was said to be about fifty-nine at this period. In the second edition, Tytler partly corrected his error, but not entirely; for he stated Bothwell’s age to be forty-three when he married. Chalmers, who is seldom wrong in the matter of dates, has settled the question.] Was there any love existing at this time between Mary and her minister? Robertson and Laing seem to think there was. Choosing to judge of Mary’s feelings towards Bothwell by effects, not of effects by feelings, they quote several passages from the letters of one or two of the foreign ambassadors then in Scotland, which mention that Bothwell possessed great influence at court. That these ambassadors report no more than the truth may be very safely granted; though certainly there is no evidence to show that he enjoyed so much weight as Murray, or more than Huntly. Yet he deserved better than the former, for he had hitherto, with one exception, continued as faithful to Mary, as he had previously been to her mother. The letters alluded to, only repeat what Randolph had mentioned six months before. So early as October 1565, only two months after Mary’s marriage with Darnley, and when her love for him remained at its height, Randolph wrote to Cecil; “My Lord Bothwell, for his great virtue, doth now all, next to the Earl of Athol.”[149 - Chalmers, vol. ii. p. 217.] Was Mary in love with Bothwell at this date? Or was it with the Earl of Athol? And did she postpone her attachment to Bothwell, till he should prove his for her, by becoming the husband of the Lady Jane Gordon? – We proceed with our narrative.

Having spent some time with Darnley at Stirling, Mary returned to Edinburgh, for the despatch of public business, on the 11th or 12th of September. She wished Darnley to accompany her; but as he could not, or would not, act with either Murray’s or Huntly’s party, he refused. On the 21st, she came again to Stirling; but was recalled once more to Edinburgh, by her Privy Council, on the 23d. She left the French ambassador, Le Croc, with the wayward Darnley, hoping that his wisdom and experience might be of benefit to him.[150 - Chalmers, vol. i. p. 183 and 184.] The distinction which, from this period up to the hour of his death, Darnley constantly made between his feelings for Mary herself, and for her ministers, is very striking. With Mary he was always willing to associate, and she had the same desire to be as much as she could with him; but with the conditions he exacted, and by which alone she was to purchase much of his company, it was impossible for her to comply. She might as well have given up her crown at once, as have dismissed all those officers of state with whom Darnley had quarrelled. The truth is, her husband’s situation was a very unfortunate one. His own imbecility and unlawful ambition, had brought upon him general odium; but if he had possessed a stronger mind, or a greater stock of hypocrisy, he might have re-established himself in the good graces of at least a part of the Scottish nobility. But he had neither the prudence to disguise his sentiments, nor the ability to maintain them. “He had not learned,” says Chalmers, “to smile, and smile, and be a villain. He was still very young, and still very inexperienced; and the Queen could not easily govern without the aid of those odious men,” – his enemies.

Mary had been only a few days in Edinburgh, when she received a letter from the Earl of Lennox, Darnley’s father, which afflicted her not a little. Lennox, who resided principally at Glasgow, had gone to Stirling to visit his son; and Darnley had there communicated to him a design, his present discontents had suggested, which was to leave the country and proceed to the Continent. Both Lennox and Le Croc, “a wise aged gentleman,” as Holinshed calls him, had done all they could to divert him from so mad a purpose; but his resolution seemed to be fixed. Mary immediately laid her father-in-law’s letter before her Privy Council, who “took a resolution to talk with the King, that they might learn from himself the occasion of this hasty deliberation of his, if any such he had; and likewise, that they might thereby be enabled to advise her Majesty after what manner she should comport herself in this conjuncture.”[151 - Maitland’s Official Letter to Catherine de Medicis, in Keith, p. 348.] On the evening of the very day that this resolution was adopted, (the 29th of September), Darnley himself arrived at Holyrood; – but being informed that the Earls of Argyle, Murray, and Rothes were with the Queen, he declared he would not enter the palace till they departed.[152 - These noblemen, it may be observed, instead of being the friends, were the personal and political enemies of Bothwell, with whom Darnley was less displeased than with them.] The Queen took this petulant behaviour as mildly as possible; and glad of his arrival, even condescended to go forth from the palace to meet her husband, and conducted him to her own apartment, where they spent the night together.[153 - Goodall, vol. i. p. 284. – Keith, p. 348.]

Next day, Mary prevailed upon her husband to attend a meeting of her Council. They requested to be informed by the King, whether he had actually resolved to depart out of the realm, and if he had, what were the motives that influenced him, and the objects he had in view. They added, “that if he could complain of any of the subjects of the realm, be they of what quality soever, the fault should be immediately repaired to his satisfaction.” Mary herself took him by the hand, and speaking affectionately to him, “besought him, for God’s sake, to declare if she had given him any occasion for this resolution.”[154 - Le Croc’s Letter in Keith, p. 346.] She had a clear conscience, she said, that in all her life she had done no action which could any ways prejudge either his or her own honour; but, nevertheless, that as she might, perhaps, have given him offence without design, she was willing to make amends, as far as he should require, – and therefore “prayed him not to dissemble the occasion of his displeasure, if any he had, nor to spare her in the least manner.”[155 - Maitland’s Letter in Keith, p. 349.] Darnley answered distinctly, that he had no fault to find with the Queen; but he was either unable or unwilling to explain further. With the stubborn discontent of a petted child, he would neither say one thing nor another – neither confess nor deny. Without agreeing to alter his determination, whatever it might be, and it was perhaps, after all, only a trick contrived to work upon Mary’s affections, and intimidate her into his wishes, he at length took his leave. Upon going away, he said to the Queen, “Farewell, Madam; you shall not see my face for a long while.” He next bade Le Croc farewell; and then turning coldly to the Lords of the Council, he said, “Gentlemen, adieu.”[156 - Keith, idem, p. 346 and 349.]

Shortly afterwards, Mary received a letter from Darnley, in which he complained of two things. “One is,” says Maitland, “that her Majesty trusts him not with so much authority, nor is at such pains to advance him, and make him be honoured in the nation, as she at first was. And the other point is, that nobody attends him, and that the nobility deserts his company. To these two points the Queen has made answer, that if the case be so, he ought to blame himself, not her; for that in the beginning she had conferred so much honour upon him, as came afterwards to render herself very uneasy, the credit and reputation wherein she had placed him having served as a shadow to those who have most heinously offended her Majesty; but, howsoever, that she has, notwithstanding this, continued to show him such respect, that although they who did perpetrate the murder of her faithful servant, had entered her chamber with his knowledge, having followed him close at the back, and had named him the chief of their enterprise, – yet would she never accuse him thereof, but did always excuse him, and was willing to appear as if she believed it not. And then as to his being not attended, – the fault thereof must be charged upon himself, since she has always made an offer to him of her own servants. And for the nobility, they come to court, and pay deference and respect, according as they have any matters to do, and as they receive a kindly countenance; but that he is at no pains to gain them, and make himself beloved by them, having gone so far as to prohibit these noblemen to enter his room, whom she had first appointed to be about his person. If the nobility abandon him, his own deportment towards them is the cause thereof; for if he desire to be followed and attended by them, he must, in the first place, make them to love him, and to this purpose must render himself amiable to them; without which, it will prove a most difficult task for her Majesty to regulate this point, especially to make the nobility consent that he shall have the management of affairs put into his hands; because she finds them utterly averse to any such matter.”[157 - Keith, idem, p. 350.]

No answer or explanation could be more satisfactory; and the whole affair exhibits a highly favourable view of Mary’s conduct and character. Le Croc accordingly says, in the letter already quoted, – “I never saw her Majesty so much beloved, esteemed, and honoured; nor so great a harmony amongst all her subjects as at present is, by her wise conduct, for I cannot perceive the smallest difference or division.” That Darnley ever seriously intended to quit the country, it has been said, is extremely uncertain. It would appear, however, according to Knox, that he still harboured some chimerical design of making himself independent of Mary, and with this view he treacherously wrote to the Pope, and the Kings of Spain and France, misrepresenting the state of affairs, and offering, with their assistance, to re-establish the Catholic religion. Copies of these letters, Knox adds, fell into Mary’s hands, who, of course, took steps to prevent their meeting with any attention at the Continental courts.[158 - Knox, p. 399.] But be this matter as it may, (and its truth rests upon rather doubtful authority, since we find no mention of it, either by the Lords of Privy Council or the French Ambassador), it is certain that Darnley’s determination, hastily formed, was as hastily abandoned.[159 - The turn which Buchanan gives to the whole of this affair, in the work he libellously calls a “History,” scarcely deserves notice. “In the meantime,” he veraciously writes in his Eighteenth Book, “the King, finding no place for favour with his wife, is sent away with injuries and reproaches; and though he often tried her spirit, yet by no offices of observance could he obtain to be admitted to conjugal familiarity as before; whereupon he retired, in discontent, to Stirling.” In his “Detection,” he is still more ludicrously false. “In the meantime,” he writes, “the King commanded out of sight, and with injuries and miseries banished from her, kept himself close with a few of his servants at Stirling; for, alas! what should he else do? He could not creep into any piece of grace with the Queen, nor could get so much as to obtain his daily necessary expenses, to find his servants and horses. And, finally, with brawlings lightly rising for every small trifle, and quarrels, usually picked, he was chased out of her presence; yet his heart, obstinately fixed in loving her, could not be restrained, but he must needs come back to Edinburgh of purpose, with all kind of serviceable humbleness, to get some entry into her former favour, and to recover the kind society of marriage: who once again, with most dishonourable disdain excluded, once again returns from whence he came, there, as in solitary desert, to bewail his woful miseries.” Anderson, vol. ii. p. 9. – Another equally honest record of these times, commonly known by the name of “Murray’s or Cecil’s Journal,” the former having supplied the information to the latter, to answer his own views at a subsequent period, says, – “At this time, the King coming from Stirling, was repulsed with chiding.” The same Journal mentions, that, on the 24th of September, Mary lodged in the Chequer House, and met with Bothwell, – a story which Buchanan disgustingly amplifies in his Detection, though the Privy Council records prove that the Queen lodged in her Palace of Holyrood on the 24th with her Privy Council and officers of state in attendance. As to Buchanan’s complaint, that the King was stinted in his necessary expenses, the treasurer’s accounts clearly show its falsehood. “The fact is,” says Chalmers, “that he was allowed to order, by himself, payments in money and furnishments of necessaries from the public treasurer. And the treasurer’s accounts show that he was amply furnished with necessaries at the very time when those calumnious statements were asserted by men who knew them to be untrue. On two days alone, the 13th and 31st of August, the treasurer, by the King and Queen’s order, was supplied with a vast number of articles for the King’s use alone, amounting to 300l., which is more than the Queen had for six months, even including the necessaries which she had during her confinement.” – Chalmers, vol. i. p. 186. These minute details would be unworthy of attention, did they not serve to prove the difficulty of determining whether Buchanan’s patron, who was also Mary’s Prime Minister, or the Historian himself, possessed the superior talent for misrepresentation.]

Shortly after her husband’s departure from Edinburgh, the Queen, attended by her officers of state, set out upon a progress towards the Borders, with the view, in particular, of holding justice-courts at Jedburgh. The southern marches of Scotland were almost always in a state of insubordination. The recent encouragement which the secret practices, first of Murray and afterwards of Morton, both aided by Elizabeth, had given to the turbulent spirit of the Borderers, called loudly for the interference of the law. Mary had intended to hold assizes in Liddisdale in August, but on account of the harvest, postponed leaving Edinburgh till October. On the 6th or 7th of that month, she sent forward Bothwell, her Lieutenant, to make the necessary preparations for her arrival, and on the 8th, the Queen and her Court set out, – the noblemen and gentlemen of the southern shires having been summoned to meet her with their retainers at Melrose. On the 10th she arrived at Jedburgh. There, or it may have been on her way from Melrose, she received the disagreeable news, that on the very day she left Edinburgh, her Lieutenant’s authority had been insulted by some of the unruly Borderers, and that soon after his reaching his Castle of Hermitage, a place of strength about eighteen miles from Jedburgh, he had been severely and dangerously wounded. Different historians assign different reasons for the attack made on Bothwell. Some say that Morton had bought over the tribe of Elliots, to revenge his present disgrace upon one whom he considered an enemy. Others, with greater probability, assert, that it was only a riot occasioned by thieves, whose lawless proceedings Bothwell wished to punish. But whichever statement be correct, the report of what had actually taken place was, as usual, a good deal exaggerated when it reached Mary. Being engaged, however, with public business at Jedburgh, she was prevented, for several days, from ascertaining the precise truth for herself. Finding that she had leisure on the 16th of the month, and being informed that her Lieutenant was still confined with his wounds, she paid him the compliment, or rather discharged the duty of riding across the country with some attendants, both to inquire into the state of his health, and to learn to what extent her authority had been insulted in his person. She remained with him only an hour or two, and returned to Jedburgh the same evening.[160 - Birrel’s Diary. – Keith, p. 351. – Goodall, vol. i. p. 302. – Chalmers, vol. i. p. 190, vol. ii. p. 109 and 224.]

The above simple statement of facts, so natural in themselves, and so completely authenticated, acquires additional interest when compared with the common version of this story which Buchanan and his follower Robertson have contrived to render prevalent. “When the news that Bothwell was in great danger of his life,” says Buchanan, “was brought to the Queen at Borthwick, though the winter was very sharp, she flew in haste, first to Melrose, then to Jedburgh. There, though she received certain intelligence that Bothwell was alive, yet, being impatient of delay, and not able to forbear, though in such a bad time of the year, notwithstanding the difficulty of the way, and the danger of robbers, she put herself on her journey with such attendants as hardly any honest man, though he was but of a mean condition, would trust his life and fortune to. From thence she returned again to Jedburgh, and there she was mighty diligent in making great preparations for Bothwell’s being brought thither.”[161 - Buchanan’s History, book xviii.; and in his, “Detection,” he repeats the same story, with still more venom.] The whole of this is a tissue of wilful misrepresentation. No one, unacquainted with Buchanan’s character, would read the statement without supposing that Mary proceeded direct from Borthwick to Hermitage Castle, scarcely stopping an hour by the way. Now, if Mary heard of Bothwell’s accident at Borthwick (which is scarcely possible), it must have been, at the latest, on the 9th of October, or more probably on the evening of the 8th; but, so far from being in a hurry in consequence, it appears, by the Privy Council Register, that she did not reach Jedburgh till the 10th, and, by the Privy Seal Register, that she did not visit Hermitage Castle till the 16th of the month.[162 - Both of these Registers are quoted by Chalmers, vol. i. p. 181.] Had she really ridden from Borthwick to the Hermitage and back again to Jedburgh in one day, she would have performed a journey of nearly seventy miles, which she could not have done even though she had wished it. As to her employing herself, on her return to Jedburgh, “in making great preparations for Bothwell’s being brought thither,” she certainly must have made extremely good use of her time, for she returned on the evening of the 16th, and next day she was taken dangerously ill. The motives which induced Buchanan to propagate falsehood concerning Mary, are sufficiently known; but, being known, Robertson ought to have been well convinced of the truth of his allegations before he drew inferences upon such authority. But the Doctor had laid down the principle, that he was to judge of Mary’s love for Bothwell by its effects; and it became, therefore, convenient for him to assert, that her visit to Hermitage Castle was one of those effects. “Mary instantly flew thither,” he says, “with an impatience which strongly marks the anxiety of a lover, but little suiting the dignity of a queen.” Now, “instantly,” must mean, that she allowed at all events six, and probably seven days to elapse; and that, too, after being informed of the danger one of the most powerful and best affectioned of her nobility had incurred in her behalf. Robertson must have thought it strange, that she staid only an hour or two at the Castle. “Upon her finding Bothwell slightly wounded,” says Tytler, “was it love that made her in such a violent haste to return back the same night to Jedburgh, by the same bad roads and tedious miles? Surely, if love had in any degree possessed her heart, it must have supplied her with many plausible reasons for passing that night in her lover’s company, without exposing herself to the inconveniences of an uncomfortable journey, and the inclemencies of the night air at that season.” If Mary had been blamed for an over-degree of callousness and indifference, there would have been almost more justice in the censure. With honest warmth Chalmers remarks, that “the records and the facts laugh at Robertson’s false dates and frothy declamation.”[163 - Miss Benger’s observations upon this subject are judicious and forcible. “It was not till the 16th, the Queen, with her Officers of State, passed to hermitage Castle, twenty miles distant, whether to confer with Bothwell on business, respecting the motives for the late outrage on his person, or purely as a visit of friendship and condolence, a respectful, and as it should seem, well-merited acknowledgement of his loyal services, must be left to conjecture. It is, however, not improbable, since the Earl of Morton was, at that time, known to be in the neighbouring March of Cessford, that Mary might be anxious to ascertain from Bothwell’s lips, whether he ascribed the attack on his person to that nobleman’s instigation. In Morton’s behalf she had long been importuned by Murray, by Elizabeth, and Maitland, and, at a proper time, meant to yield to their solicitations; but the discovery of a new treason, would have altered her proceedings; to ascertain the fact was, therefore, of importance. By whatever considerations Mary was induced to pay this visit, there appears not (when calumny is discarded), any specific ground for the suspicion, that she then felt for Bothwell a warmer sentiment than friendship; in all her affections, Mary was ardent and romantic, and though it should have been admitted, that she had gone to Hermitage Castle, merely to say one kind word to the loyal servant, whose blood had lately flowed in her service, she had, two years before, made a far greater effort to gratify a female friend, when she rode to Callender, to assist at the baptism of Lord Livingston’s child, regardless of the danger which awaited her, from Murray and his party.” – Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 289. We have dwelt too long on a calumny unsupported by any respectable evidence.]

On the 17th of October, Mary was seized with a severe and dangerous fever, and for ten days her life was esteemed in great danger; indeed, it was at one time reported at Edinburgh, that she was dead. The fever was accompanied with fainting or convulsion-fits, of an unusual and alarming description. They frequently lasted for three or four hours; and during their continuance, she was, to all appearance, lifeless. Her body was motionless; her eyes closed; her mouth fast; her feet and arms stiff and cold. Upon coming out of these, she suffered the most dreadful pain, her whole frame being collapsed, and her limbs drawn writhingly together. She was at length so much reduced, that she herself began to despair of recovery. She summoned together the noblemen who were with her, in particular Murray, Huntly, Rothes, and Bothwell, and gave them what she believed to be her dying advice and instructions. Bothwell was not at Jedburgh when the Queen was taken ill, nor did he show any greater haste to proceed thither when he heard of her sickness than she had done to visit him, it being the 24th of October before he left Hermitage Castle.[164 - Chalmers, vol. ii. p. 224.] After requesting her council to pray for her, and professing her willingness to submit to the will of Heaven, Mary recommended her son to their especial care. She entreated that they would give every attention to his education, suffering none to approach him, whose example might pervert his manners or his mind, and studying to bring him up in all virtue and godliness. She strongly advised the same toleration to be continued in matters of religion, which she had practised; and she concluded, by requesting that suitable provision should be made for the servants of her household, to whom Mary was scrupulously attentive, and by all of whom she was much beloved. Fortunately however, after an opportunity had been thus afforded her of evincing her strength of mind, and willingness to meet death, the violence of her disease abated, and her youth and good constitution triumphed over the attack.

Darnley, who was with his father at Glasgow, probably did not hear of the Queen’s illness till one or two days after its commencement; but as soon as he was made acquainted with her extreme danger, he determined on going to see her. Here again, we discover the marked distinction that characterized Darnley’s conduct towards his wife and towards her nobility. With Mary herself he had no quarrel; and though his love for her was not so strong and pure as it should have been, and was easily forgotten when it stood in the way of his own selfish wishes, he never lost any opportunity of evincing his desire to continue on a friendly footing with her. When he last parted from her at Holyrood, he had said that she should not see him for a long while; but startled into better feelings by her unexpected illness, he came to visit her at Jedburgh, on the 28th of October. The Queen was, by this time, better; but her convalescence being still uncertain, Darnley’s arrival was far from being agreeable to her ministers. Should Mary die, one or other of them would be appointed Regent, an office to which they knew that Darnley, as father to the young prince, had strong claims. It was their interest, therefore, to sow dissension in every possible way, between the Queen and her husband; and they trembled lest the remaining affection they entertained for each other, might be again rekindled into a more ardent flame. Mary, when cool and dispassionate, they knew they could manage easily; but Mary, when in love, chose, like most other women, to have her own way. They received Darnley, on the present occasion, so forbiddingly, and gave him so little countenance, that having spent a day and a night with Mary, he was glad again to take his departure, and leave her to carry on the business of the state, surrounded by those designing and factious men who were weaving the web of her ruin.

On the 9th of November, the Queen, with her court, left Jedburgh, and went to Kelso, where she remained two days. She proceeded thence to Berwick, attended by not fewer than 800 knights and gentlemen on horseback. From Berwick, she rode to Dunbar; and from Dunbar, by Tantallan to Craigmillar, where she arrived on the 20th of November 1566, and remained for three weeks, during which time an occurrence of importance took place.

END OF VOLUME FIRST

notes

1

Polydore, lib. 26. quoted by Leslie – “Defence of Mary’s Honour,” Preface, p. xiv. – Apud Anderson, vol. I.

2

Knox seems not only to justify the assassination of Cardinal Beaton, but to hint that it would have been proper to have disposed of his successor in the same way. “These,” says he, “are the works of our God, whereby he would admonish the tyrants of this earth, that, in the end, he will be revenged of their cruelty, what strength soever they make in the contrary. But such is the blindness of man, as David speaks, that the posterity does ever follow the footsteps of their wicked fathers, and principally in their impiety: For how little differs the cruelty of that bastard, that yet is called Bishop of St Andrews, from the cruelty of the former, we will after hear.” – Knox’s Hist. of the Reformation, p. 65.

3

Dalyell’s “Fragments of Scottish History.”

4

Keith, p. 68. – Knox’s History, p. 94-6.

5

M’Crie’s Life of Knox, vol. i. p. 222.

6

M’Crie’s Life of Knox, vol. ii. p. 206.