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

The first man who struck Rizzio was George Douglas. Swords and daggers had been drawn, and pistols had been presented at him and at the Queen; but no blow was given, till Douglas, seizing the dirk which Darnley wore at his side, stabbed Rizzio over Mary’s shoulder, though, at the moment, she was not aware of what he had done. The unhappy Italian was then forcibly dragged out into the bed-room, and through the presence-chamber, where the conspirators, gathering about him, speedily completed the bloody deed, leaving in his body no fewer than fifty-six wounds. He lay weltering in his gore at the door of the presence-chamber for some time; and a few large dusky spots, whether occasioned by his blood or not, are to this day pointed out, which stain that part of the floor. The body was afterwards thrown down the stairs, and carried from the palace to the porter’s lodge, with the King’s dagger still sticking in his side. He was obscurely buried next day; but, subsequently, more honourably near the Royal vault in Holyrood Chapel.132

Such was the unhappy end of one who, having come into Scotland poor and unbefriended, had been raised, through the Queen’s penetration and his own talents, to an honourable office, the duties of which he discharged with fidelity. If his rise was sudden, his fall was more so; for, up to the very day of his assassination, many of the Scottish nobility, says Buchanan, “sought his friendship, courted him, admired his judgment, walked before his lodgings, and observed his levee.” But death no sooner put an end to his influence, than the memory of the once envied Italian was calumniated upon all hands. Knox even speaks approvingly of his murder, (as he had formerly done of that of Cardinal Beaton), assuring us that he was slain by those whom “God raised up to do the same” – an error, indicating a distorted moral perception, from the reproach consequent on which, his biographer, M’Crie, has unsuccessfully endeavoured to defend him.133 The Reformer adds to his notice of Rizzio, a story which suits well the superstitious character of the times, and which Buchanan has repeated. He mentions, that there was a certain John Daniot, a French priest, and a reputed conjuror, who told Rizzio “to beware of a bastard.” Rizzio, supposing he alluded to the Earl of Murray, answered, that no bastard should have much power in Scotland, so long as he lived; but the prophecy was considered to be fulfilled, when it was known that the bastard, Douglas, was the first who stabbed him.134

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

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 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

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

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

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

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

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.