In Byways of Scottish History

The charge of "shufflinge for his share", the only intelligible count in the indictment contained in the couplet devoted to Morton, is fully justified by the able but unscrupulous statesman's conduct during the period of civil strife to which the Fantasie refers. On the formation of the league for which Mary's intentions towards her cousin had afforded a pretence, Morton had joined the ranks of the confederate Lords. Before long, however, his opposition to the marriage was overcome and his services secured for the royal cause by the sacrifice on the part of Lennox and Darnley of their claims to the honours and estates of Angus. Though his motives were very far from being disinterested, his conduct was for a while in strict conformity with the pledge which had been bought from him, and he successfully exerted his influence to conciliate some of the bitterest opponents to the royal marriage. Such as it was, however, his loyalty was but shortlived. He took umbrage at the part assigned to Lennox in the command of the army which marched out to encounter the confederates. In the month of October his treasonable designs were so far from being a secret that Randolph described him as "only making fair weather with the Queen till he could espy his time".163 But by her prompt and energetic action in compelling him to surrender the Castle of Tantallon to the Earl of Athole,164 the Queen obliged him to declare himself sooner than he had intended, and before his treachery could do any material injury to her cause.

Like his kinsman Morton, Ruthven, though serving in the royal army, was in league with the rebels. Between him and Mary there had never existed any great sympathy, though, out of consideration for Lennox, whose intimate associate he was, she admitted him for a while to her favour and confidence. As early as the beginning of July, however, it was reported that "the Lord of Ruthven had entered into suspicion",165 and three months later he was also mentioned amongst those who were "only making fair weather with the Queen".166 His final defection took place at the same time and for the same cause as Morton's, the "plee" which he "preffered" – that is, the claim which he also laid to a part of the Angus estates, in right of Janet Douglas, his wife – having been set aside by the royal order which made over Tantallon to Athole.

The lines directed against Lennox and Darnley require neither explanation nor comment. The ambition of the one and the boyish weakness and vanity of the other are well known. In selecting these as the objects of his satirical allusions, the poet has not treated them with greater severity than they deserved, nor, indeed, than they have met with at the hands of both contemporary and subsequent historians.

As regards Maxwell, it is not difficult to account for the prominence given to him, nor for the "unconstant fayth and shamefull ways" with which he is reproached. At the outbreak of hostilities he held the office of Warden of the Western Border. The confidence placed in him, however, he betrayed, not only by allowing the insurgents to remain unmolested within the district under his keeping, and actually giving them entertainment, but also by subscribing with them167 and devoting a thousand pounds, which he had received from England, to the equipment of a troop of horse for service against his sovereign. Mary took his treason so greatly to heart that, in a letter to Beton, Archbishop of Glasgow, she inveighed in terms seldom to be met with in her correspondence against "the traitor Maxwell, who, to his great disgrace, had basely violated his faith to her, and sent his son as his pledge to England, undeterred by the remembrance of the treatment to which his other boy was exposed, of which he had told her himself".168 After the Queen's bloodless victory over her rebellious nobles, and the retreat of Moray and his associates from their last city of refuge in Scotland, Maxwell, fearful of the consequences of his own treasonable conduct, begged to be allowed to return to his allegiance. Three days after Mary's arrival at Dumfries, he was brought before her by Bothwell and some of the loyal lords who offered to become sureties for his fidelity. He was received with generous kindness by his sovereign, who not only granted him a free pardon, but carried her magnanimity so far as to accept the hospitality of his castle of Lochmaben, where she remained until her return to Edinburgh.

The couplet in which the satirist tells us how Ledington "did powder it with pen, and fyled so his sewgred speech as wone the wills of men", pithily characterizes the secretary's conduct, not merely on the special occasion to which allusion is here made, but throughout the whole of his eventful career. The other names introduced into the passage are known to be those of noblemen who embraced the Queen's cause, but the records of the period make no reference to any acts of theirs of sufficient importance to call for either praise or censure, though the subsequent defection of some of their number seems to justify the doubt cast on the sincerity of their motives. With regard to the last of these names, that of Bulford is probably a corrupted form of some more familiar appellation. It may possibly be intended to designate James Balfour, Parson of Fisk, who "at this time", according to John Knox, "had gottin all the guiding in the Court" and "was preferred before all others, save only the Erle of Athole".169

With this black list of those who "prowld for private pray", the poet contrasts the confederate Lords by whom "right was erect and wilfull wronge supprest", whose "judgements ever vncontrolde did floryshe with the best", who "sought by civill meanes for to advaunce the realme", but who were "chast away" because "the Quene wold not abide there grave advise that counsaled her to watch a better tide". The names held up for special reverence are those of Murray, Hamilton, Argyle, Rothose, Glencairn, Boyd, Ochiltree, and Grange, and it is open to question whether their action, in revolting from their sovereign and entering into negotiations with Elizabeth and her agents, warrants the praise bestowed upon them in the following lines: —

ffor Murray's constant fayth and ardent zeale to truthe had not the grace to fordge and feane that worldlie wytts pursewthe;nor Hamilton cold have no hope to hold his seate; nor yet Argile to abide the court the pirrye170 was to greate;Rothose might not resyst that stedfastnes profest; nor Glencarne cold averde with wrong that rigor had incest;171nor Boide wold not attempt the trades172 of no mystrust; nor Ogletree concure with such as rewléd but for lust;Grange wold not grate for grace, no burden he wold beare whose horye head expert in warrs did bred the courtyers feare.

Having thus recorded the relative strength and merits of the contending parties, the poet completes his picture of the lamentable state to which the kingdom has been reduced by civil discord; then, with his natural inclination to give prominence to his own troubles, bewails the "unrest" which embitters his life and is "powdering the heires upon his head". For solace he "retyres unto his booke a space", there to contemplate, "with rufull eye, what bale is incident in everie estate where tirants do prevale", and to gather "examples that bloodye feicts dothe aske vengiance and thrists for bloode againe". Cyrus, Tomiris, Cambyses, Brutus, Cassius, Bessus, Alexander, and Dionysius are called up "to represent the fine of tirants' force", and to show "howe the gwiltless bloode that is vniustlie shede dothe crave revenge". Sheer weariness, however, puts an end to the dismal meditation, and as the poet sinks into "swete slepe" it seems to him that a messenger is "thrust in at the doore" to inform him that the Queen herself is at hand. Hereupon Mary enters, and without further preface begins "her tale", to which the second part of the Fantasie is devoted.

The opening words of the Queen's confession, for such is the form into which her "complante" is thrown, assume that she is acquainted with Randolph's purpose of recording the events of which he has been a witness, and are a request that he will "inwrape her woos within his carefull clewe, that when the recorde is spread everywhere, the state of her comber first may appear". Her grief, however, as she at once explains, is not for herself – there is no cause why she should repine, for all things have succeeded according to her will – it is for the miserable state to which her headstrong resistance to the advice of those who counselled wise and moderate government has reduced her realm. But, before entering fully into her subject, by a clever paralepsy she digresses into an account of her birth and accomplishments. Written as it is by a professed enemy of Mary Stuart's the passage is of considerable interest, and may help to settle the disputed question of her personal gifts: —

I hold it nedles to bragg of my birthe,by loyall dascent endowed a quene;my ffather doth wytness it even to his death,who in this weale most noblie did reigne;and that halffe a Gwyssian173 by birth I bene,and howe the Frenshe Kinge in marag did endoweme with royall right, a madlie174 widowe.But I cold bost of bewtie with the best,in skilfull poincts of princelie attire,and of the golden gwiftes of nature's behestwho filed my face of favor freshe and fayre;my bewtie shynes like Phebus in the ayre,and nature formed my feater besidein such proport175 as advanseth my pride.Thus fame affatethe176 my state to the stares,enfeoft with the gwyftes of nature's devise,that soundes the retreat to others princes eareswhollie to resigne to me the chefest price;but what doth it avale to vant in this wyse?for as the sowre sent the swete tast do spillso are the good gwyftes corrupted with ill.

Foremost amongst the defects that mar the high gifts of nature she mentions the "Gwyssian" temper which she has received from her mother, and by which she has been led to take the first false step "to wedd as she wold, suche a one as she demed wold serve her lust rather then might her weale well upholde". The fatal marriage being thus introduced, she naturally refers to its results, to the opposition of those who, having "ever tendered her state, cold not abyde to see this myscheffe", and whom, in her ungovernable temper, in her "rigour and hate", she "sought to subject to the sword". This is followed by the names of her chief opponents, the list being augmented by a few names which do not appear in the first part. Here a passage of singular significance even at the present day is unexpectedly brought in, in connection with the Duke of Argyle. It is a description of the Irish. They are stigmatized "a bloody crewe that whoso they take they helples downe hewe", and their barbarous manner of carrying on war and inhuman treatment of the enemy is thus set forth: —

This savage kinde, they knowe no lawe of armes,they make not warrs as other do assay,they deale not deathe by [without] dredfull harmes,yeld or not yeld whoso they take they slay,they save no prysonners for ransome nor for pay,they hold it hopeles of the bodye deadexcept they see hym cut shorter by the heade.

From this point the Queen's "complante" becomes a narrative – interspersed with moral reflections on the dangers of despotic government and the horrors of civil wars – of the victorious though bloodless expedition against the confederate Lords. It is noteworthy that, however depreciatory the judgment which she is made to pass upon her own conduct, her energy and courage are repeatedly insisted upon in terms of unqualified praise: "The dread of no enemy cold me appaile, nor yett no travell endaunte my entent; … I dreaded no daunger of death to ensewe, no stormy blasts cold make me retyre". Indeed, in one stanza she actually likens herself to Tomiris, and though, from the fact that it appears to be made by herself, the comparison at first strikes us as unnatural and exaggerated, looked at in its proper light, as the testimony of an avowed enemy, it is undoubtedly a high tribute of admiration to her indomitable spirit: —

Amidde wch rowte, yf thou thie selffe had bene,and seen howe I my matters did contryve,thou woldest have reckened me the lustyest Quenethat ever Europe fostred heare to live;yea, if Tomiris her selffe had bene alive,who dreaded great hosts with her tyrannye,cold not shewe herself more valiant then I.

The first episode referred to by the Queen is the pitching of her camp near Glasgow, for the purpose of intercepting the rebels who had taken up their position near Paisley, but who, dismayed at the rapid march of the royal army, hastily retired towards Edinburgh. This was on August 31. The poetical narrative is as follows: —

In Glasco towne I entrenched my bandes,and they in Paselee, nor far distant from thence,where erelie on the morrowe, west by the sande,177they gave me larum with warlicke pretence;we were in armes but they were gone thence,to the ffeldes we marcht in battell array,expectinge our foos, but they were awaye.—when fame had brought that the Llords were goneto Edenbrough towne to wage178 men of warre,to supplie there force, and make them more strongeof expert trayns179 to joyne in this jarre,I hasted forwarde to interrupt them there,but by the way I harde they were gonefrom Edenbrough, and had clene left the towne.

In a stanza following immediately upon this, and descriptive of the course adopted by Mary on her arrival in Edinburgh, we find the confirmation of a statement made by Captain Cockburn,180 but indignantly denied as a shameless fabrication by those historians whose aim it has been to clear the Queen from every imputation. He asserts, not only that she imposed a fine of £20,000 on certain of the burgesses of Edinburgh after the termination of the expedition, but also that previously to this she had extorted 14,000 marks from them for the support of her army. It is the latter part of this statement which has been challenged, but which undoubtedly receives strong support from the following verses: —

And some that had incurred my blame,by worde or wronge or other like meane,for redye coigne I compounded with them,that I might better my soulgiers maynteyne,th'unwonted charge that I did susteanewas thus considered in everie dome181to surpasse the yerelie revenue of my crowne.

Passing over the Queen's expedition into Fifeshire and the capture of Castle Campbell, "the castle of gloom", a formidable stronghold belonging to her rebel brother-in-law, the Duke of Argyle, the historical part of the narrative hastens on to the final act, the march to Dumfries and the Lords' retreat across the Border. The inglorious termination of the rebellion has been pithily summed up by Sir James Melville in his Memoirs: "Her Majesty again convened forces to pursue the rebels, till at length they were compelled to flee into England for refuge, to her who promised by her ambassadors to wear her crown in their defence, in case they were driven to any strait for their opposition unto the marriage".182 The poet is scarcely less concise in his record of an event which he could neither hide nor gloss over, but upon which he evidently had no wish to dwell: —

We came to Domfreis to attempt our might,but all was in vane, our foos were awaie;there was none there that wold us resiste,nor yett affirme that I did gainesaye.—They unable to abide or resist my mightentred perforce into th'inglishe pale.In Carlile they all were constrayned to light,where the Lord Scrowpe entreated them all;and th'Erle of Bedforde leivetenante generallof th'inglish northe, whose fervent affectionI ever dreaded to deale in this action,whose noble hart enflamed with rutheto see theis Llords driven to dystresse,sought the meanes he could to advance the truthe.—What racke, Randolphe? Thou thie selffe knowesI retorned a victore without any blows.

Though this seemed to indicate a point where the Fantasie might come to a fitting close, it is drawn out for fully a hundred lines in order that the moral of the whole narrative may be duly brought home to the reader. So far as Mary herself is concerned, the gist of her long homily may be given in her concluding words: —

'Tis fittest for a prince,and such as have the regyments of realmes,there subjects hartes with myldnes to convince,and justice mixt, avoydinge all extremes;ffor like as Phebus with his cherefull beamesdo freshlie force the fragrant flowers to floryshe,so rulers' mildness subjects love do noryshe.

The poet's own moralizing, with which, as with an epilogue, the whole poem is brought to an end, is wider in its application. The dangers which beset greatness and the advantages which accompany "golden mediocrity" are its leading theme, and are set forth in a passage which brings together a number of familiar illustrations drawn from inanimate nature: —

I then said to myself methinkes this may assure all those that clyme to honor's seate there state may not endure;the hills of highest hight are sonest perskt with sone, the silver streames with somer's drowght are letten oft to rone,the loftiest trees and groves are ryfest rent with winde, the brushe and breres that thickest grow the flame will sonest finde,the loftie rerynge towers there fall the ffeller bee, most ferse dothe fulgent lyghtnyng lyght where furthest we may see,the gorgyous pallace deckt and reared vp to the skye are sonner shokt with wynter stormes then meaner buildings bee,vpon the highest mounts the stormy wynds do blowe, the sewer seate and quyet lief is in the vale belowe;by reason I regawrde the mean estate most sure, that wayteth on the golden meane & harmles may endure;the man that wyselie works in welthe doth feare no tide, when fortune failes dispeareth not but stedfastlie abide,for He that sendeth stormes with windes and wynter blasts,and steanes with hale the wynter face & fils ech soile with frostsHe slaks the force of cold he sends the somer hote, he causethe bayle to stormy harts of joy the spring & rote.Reader regawrde this well as I of force nowe must, appoinct thie mewse to merke my verse thus ruffled up in rust,and lerne this last of me: Imbrace thie porpose prest, and lett no storme to blowe the blasts to lose the port of rest;and tho the gale be great & frowarde fortune fayle, againe when wynde do serve at will hoist not to hye the saileffor prowffe may toche the stone to prove this firme and plaine,that no estate may countervale the gyld or golden meane.

Both the poem and the Epistle Dedicatory bear the signature of Thomas Jenye. It is the name of an unscrupulous adventurer who held some subordinate position in the service of Thomas Randolph, whilst he was in Scotland, and afterwards of Sir Henry Norris, in the Netherlands. From the literary point of view, the most noteworthy feature of his Fantasie is the barefacedness with which he pilfered, not only the ideas, but the actual words of others. Indeed, in its introduction and conclusion, which consist, for the most part, of moral reflections, Jenye's satire is little better than a patchwork, rather cleverly made up, it is true, of lines purloined from Surrey, Grimsald, Sackville, and the other writers who figure with them in Tottell's Miscellany. But besides being a curiosity in plagiarism, the Fantasie is a valuable historical document, by reason of the accuracy with which it describes the various incidents of Murray's revolt, of which Jenye was practically an eyewitness.

THE FIRST "STUART" TRAGEDY AND ITS AUTHOR

Mary, Queen of Scots, was beheaded in 1587. Fourteen years later there was published in Rouen a play which bore the title of Tragédie de la Reine d'Escosse, and which had for its subject the condemnation and death of Elizabeth's unfortunate prisoner. The author styled himself Anthoine de Montchrestien sieur de Vasteville; but it was alleged by his enemies that he was nothing more aristocratic than the son of an apothecary of Falaise called Mauchrestien. He had, however, the good fortune to be brought up, though in what connection is uncertain, with two lads belonging to a family of authentic nobility; and by the time he reached his twentieth year, he had the training and education of a gentleman of the period. With the sword which he assumed as the emblem of the class to which he claimed to belong, he adopted the fashionable readiness to draw it on the slightest provocation. His first recorded encounter, however, very nearly proved his last. With the odds of three to one against him, he was grievously wounded and left for dead on the highway. But he recovered, and, in the true spirit of a Norman, consoled himself for his defeat and his injuries by suing the chief of his adversaries, the Baron de Gouville. That he obtained damages to the amount of 12,000 livres may be taken as a proof that all the blame was not on his side. The success of this legal action encouraged him to take proceedings against one of his trustees, who had failed to do his duty by him. A further indemnity of 1000 livres was the result. About this time, too, he married a rich widow whose good graces he had previously secured by helping her to win a lawsuit in which her husband had been the defender.

As early as 1596, Montchrestien had published the tragedy of Sophonisbe. Five years later there appeared a volume bearing his name, and containing a miscellaneous collection of prose and verse, including five tragedies, of which one was the Mary Stuart play, with the running title of l'Escossoise. In the midst of a literary success to which numerous sets of complimentary verses testify, a real tragedy changed the whole course of the Norman adventurer's career. In a duel with a young nobleman, he killed his adversary. Whether he did so in fair fight or, as his detractors alleged, by means of a disloyal stratagem, he was equally amenable to the severe law against single combat which Henry IV had lately promulgated. To no purpose did the poet appeal to the king in some eloquent verses in which he begged to be allowed to expiate his offence by dying for his sovereign on the field of honour: —

"Armé sur un cheval, en tenant une pique,Non sur un échafaud en vergogne publique."183

He was obliged to seek safety in exile, and retired to England. There his "Stuart" tragedy was of service to him. He presented it to James, who showed his appreciation of the work by interceding with the King of France on behalf of the author. The result was favourable, but not immediate; and several years had to elapse before the outlawry was reversed.

Montchrestien had gone to England in the character of a poet and a gentleman. He returned to France to become an economist and manufacturer. In 1615 he published a volume entitled, Traicté de l'Œconomie Politique. Never before had the term been used; and the subject dealt with was as novel as its name. Shortly after this, the founder of the science for which such great destinies were in store, established a cutlery on the banks of the Loire. That his venture was successful seems hardly probable, for less than four years later he was engaged in the shipping trade. The story that he endeavoured to better his financial position by the desperate expedient of counterfeiting the coin of the realm rests on no trustworthy authority, and may be dismissed as one of the many calumnies by which his enemies sought to blacken his memory after his tragic death. That event took place in 1621; and the various incidents that led up to it might well be shaped into a novel of adventure, though they must here be summarized in a few brief sentences. When religious troubles again broke out in France, after the Assembly of La Rochelle, Montchrestien threw in his lot with the Protestant party. He went about for some months in his native province of Normandy, endeavouring to organize an insurrection. On the 7th of October he, together with his servant and six Huguenot captains, was taken by surprise in an inn. In the scuffle that followed, a pistol shot through the head put an end to his adventurous career. According to the barbarous custom which then prevailed in France, as it did in Scotland also, sentence was pronounced over his dead body. It was burnt and the ashes were scattered to the winds.

When Montchrestien wrote l'Escossoise, six years before the birth of Corneille, tragedy made no attempt to depict the conflict of antagonistic passions, but contented itself with the exposition of a pathetic situation, considered from various points of view. When this had been set forth with sufficient detail, the dénouement, instead of being enacted before the spectators, was indicated in a concluding narrative. All Montchrestien's tragedies are drawn up on this plan; and he is so faithful to the old classic form that he retains even the chorus. It is worthy of notice, however, that what has been called "dialogue cornélien", that quick alternation of antithetical couplets and even single lines, suggestive of the sharp clashing of swords in the hands of two well-matched opponents, is one of the characteristics of his manner, and is handled by him with considerable skill and vigour.