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VE LETTERS OF
Whitaker has the following observations respecting the
Letters and Casket : —
The letters remained in Morton's possession to the day of
his death, June 2, 1581. They were then conveyed pri-
vately and clandestinely, by the bastard sons of Morton*,
to one of the original conspirators with him against Mary ;
even to that Lord Ruthven, now Earl of Gowrie, who was
heir to the principal assassin of Rizzio, and actually con-
cerned himself in carrying the Queen to Lochlevin. They
were considered as the sacred palladium of rebellion ; as
the holy image, which was only to be seen by the priests
of anarchy, and on the keeping of which from the general
eye, depended the fate of the whole empire of mis-rule.
For this reason, Gowrie was unwilling to own that he had
them. He was still more unwilling to part with them.
He was urged by Elizabeth's embassadour. He was solicited
by James's prime minister. The minister had a curiosity to
see them. The Queen wanted to turn them again upon Mary.
And Gowrie would not part with them to either t.
At this period of their history, King James knew of their
existence, and of the hands in which they existed. Yet
he never offered to force them away J. He left them to
continue there unmolested. But they did not continue long
so. That busy period of plots would not suffer them. In
1584 Gowrie received the punishment from James, which
he had long merited from Mary. And the papers seem to
have been then transferred to a man, who was worthy to be
entrusted with the charge, who was nephew to Morton, and
had been recently a conspirator and a rebel with Gowrie —
the Earl of Angus §.
But the necessary season of concealment must now have
been nearly elapsed. All the great actors upon the scene
had successively disappeared from it ; and had gone to lodge
* Crawford, 371, and Moyse, 51, + Robertson's Diss. 42-46=
t Robertson's Diss. 46. § Goodall, i. 35, 36.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 13
in the bosom of eternity, for that revisal of their actions,
which Omniscience will execute, and Omnipotence will ra-
tify, in the sight of all the world. The interests of surviv-
ors were less engaged in the spuriousness or the authenticity
of the papers. And the care, which had incidentally pre-
served them hitherto, by taking pains to conceal them from
the public, would now be relaxed, as the reason was re-
moved. Accordingly, they appear to have been no longer
transmitted from one hand to another ; and, when the as-
sassin or the executioner had cut short the life of their pre-
sent proprietor, to have instantly migrated with the soul of
rebellion, to some other child of election. At the death of
Angus, they rested peaceably with the Douglases. The
transferrible feud now settled into an inheritance. And the
wandering paladium of Troy became stationary in the forum
of Rome. " I find," says Mr. Goodall, " an anonymous
historian, who wrote about the restoration of King Charles
II. affirming, that the box and letters were at that time to
be seen, with the Marquis of Douglas *."
Yet where are they at present ? Hie labor, hoc opus est.
In the recent days of Mr. Goodall, they were supposed by
some to be still in the family of Douglas. But they were
reported by others to have been seen at the Duke of Hamil-
ton's t. The Hamiltons had then, by the termination of
their line in an heiress, become Douglases. Yet the con-
tradictoriness of the report and the suppositions, shews the
uncertainty of both. And the non-appearance of them
since, evinces both to be false. A contest has been since
maintained concerning them with peculiar vivacity and vi-
gour. The whole nation has stood by, attentive to the
issue. The house of Hamilton, and the family of Douglas,
have interested themselves, no doubt, equally with all the
reading and historical part of the nation ; and must have
produced the papers, if they had them in their own posses-
* Goodall, i. 36. t Ibid.
14 LOVE LETTERS OF
sion. No longer employed in the turbulence of war, the
Douglases and the Hamiltons have leisure to superintend
the contests of literature ; to consider them as equally im-
portant now, with an inroad or an insurrection formerly ;
and to be as ready as ever to mingle in the fray. Indeed the
papers are too singular in their nature, and too distinguished
in their history, not to be known wherever they are found.
And the casket, in which they Were originally reposited,
and with which, in all probability, they have always tra-
velled ; being " ane small gylt coffer, not fully ane fute
lang," and " being garnischit in sindrie places, with the
Romane letter F under ane Kingis crowne ;" is an object
impossible to lie unnoticed in any library.
They may, however, have been separated from their
original vehicle. They may also be kept concealed by that
spirit of party, which originally withheld them in England
and in Scotland from the eye of examination, and of which
the ghost is seen to haunt us still at times. Or they may
have perished in that sweeping fire, which, in December,
1 758, consumed the castle of Douglas, the seat of the Earl
of Angus in 1581, the seat of the Marquis of Douglas in
1660 ; and consumed with it the greatest part of the furni-
ture, paintings, and papers in it. But we need not be
anxious for their appearance.
Were Whitaker alive he would doubtless be angry at
seeing the whole contents of the casket in the following
pages. H. C.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 1 5
ORIGINAL LOVE LETTERS OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS,
TO JAMES EARL OF BOTHWELL.
LETTER THE FIRST.
This first Letter, as appears by Brantome's Memoirs, must
be written when ye Earl of Bothwell was in Banishment,
where he had been some time on an information given by
the Lord Arran, that he had conspired against the Life of
Murray, besides, the complaint she makes in it, how im-
possible it is for her to act as she would on having her pow-
er limited by two different Factions, perfectly agrees with
Spots wood, Sir James Melvil, and almost all the authors
who have written ye Histories of those times ; the latter
of them very confidently affirmed that she had never con-
sented to marry with Lord Darnley, but that she hoped by
that means to suppress the incroachments which the two
Parties, headed by Hamilton and Murray, were daily mak-
ing on her Prerogative.
You complain of me my dear Bothwell without cause ;
did you know what insurmountable difficulties attend a
person of my station in the pursuit of an affair such as ours
you would not blame but pity me, all my moments are taken
up with consultations ; the distractions of the times over
whelm me — I ought to exchange this soft and gentle
nature of mine for one all rough and masculine, to be able
to cope with the oppositions I daily meet with — besides the
Lord Darnley is perpetually with me, pretends to testifie
his passion by his jealousy, and back'd by that assuming
arbitress of my fate the English Queen, already takes
1G LOVE LETTERS OF
upon him the authority of an husband. — What can I do
torn and divided between different Factions, both equally
pernicious to their Sovereigns interest? — Yet in spite of
the contending storms, in spite of business cares, and all
my vast fatigues, still does my heart find room for love —
Yes I protest my ever dear Both well, that for an humble
life with you I gladly would exchange this load of great-
ness and throw it to those who seem ambitious of it, this
gaudy burthen of a crown ; but even that is a priviledge
deny'd me ; I must either continue to reign or cease to live ;
my power is all that can protect my Bothwell ; should I
relinquish that, or want the means of preserving you, it is
not the pretended friendship of the ever changing Murray
would afford you any shelter : do not therefore impute it to
the want of impatience to see you, that I stil delay your
coming to Edinburgh ; 'tis for the future repose of us both
that I command you to tarry yet longer where you are ; bat
methinks I need not any arguments to convince you that it
is wholly yor interest I study. Too precious have been the
proofs I have given you of my tenderness for you to doubt
the sincerity of it, nor do I believe you want sense or gra-
titude to acknowledge what I have done for you. Time
however must be the touch-stone of the hearts of both —
write to me as usual ; believe me, all the consolation your
unhappy Queen enjoys is in hearing from you ; till fate
allows us the blessing of a nearer conversation, which I
hope and pray may be sooner than you expect, and as swift
as my desires — a legion of angels attend and be your guard
from all exteriour harms and keep you ever faithful to
M. R.
P. S. I had forgot to warn you of my Lord Herris ; he
designs you a visit, it can be for no other reason than to
pry into your behaviour — be cautious of your self before
him, farewell.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 17
LETTER THE SECOND.
This seems to be written a small time after the former,
and both, according- to Buchanan, must bear date about the
middle of the year 1563. She was at that time greatly
incommoded by the Faction of the Hamiltons, and was then
beginning to contrive measures for their ruin, as appears by
Castlenaw's Memoirs, Spotswood and Crawford.
It is in a transport proportionable to my late inquietudes
that I now command the presence of my dear Both well —
the greatest part of my anxietys are over. Elizabeth has
changed her mind in favour of Lord Darnley, and I shall
be persecuted no more with her menaces or persuasions on
his score ; Murray also declares himself an enemy to the
match, and I shall have the double satisfaction of obliging
my subjects and my self; but oh ! there remains a greater
felicity in store for me ; I shall not only be eased of the
solicitations of the man I hate, but enjoy with more secu-
rity than ever the society of him I love ; the council seems
perfectly satisfied of your innocence as to the late troubles ;
you will have a publick mandate to recall you ; but I can-
not restrain my impatience from sending you this harbinger
of our approaching" happiness. Be secret, however, I con-
jure you ; a too quick discovery of your contentment might
yet ruin all — all ways remember this, that the favourites of
Princes have as many observers as eyes upon them — I learned
this maxim from Katherine de Medicis, to wear a counte-
nance the reverse of my heart — proposals frequently are made
for no other reasons, than to sound the inclinations of ye
persons to whom they are offered; that politick Queen
therefore never discloses either the pleasure or discontent
she conceives at what she hears, but leaving it to spring out
of the reality, fathoms the whole of the design without giv-
ing, even those who think themselves at the very bottom of
her secrets, liberty to know the least of her thoughts ; it is.
18 LOVE LETTERS OF
also by this means that Elizabeth circumvents all the plots
of her enemies ; and this in fine is the onely security of a
great and envyed person. Dissemble therefore, my dear
Both well, with all the world but me, who, I do believe,
will be most pleased when most I knowyor heart. See the
confidence which love inspires, jealousy and suspicion are
passions I am utterly a stranger to, but in the affairs of
state, I confess I have vanity enough to assure my self the
man I condescend to favour in the manner I have done you,
cannot but be mine ; as for the divorce, you write to me
concerning, I would not have you think of it as yet; the
times are at present too much unsetled, and your wife has
powerful friends ; strengthen first your own interest, which
may be a means to weaken hers, and leave to me and your
good friend the Bishop of Ross to manage that thereafter ;
we have already laid the scheme, and I am certain that
worthy man will not fail to perform the part enjoyn'd him,
to the satisfaction of both. In the mean time I would not
have you give the least hint of yor design : But of this we
shall have leisure to talk at yor arival. I have these three
days waited an opportunity to convey to you the tender
meanings of my soul, and must not waste the precious mo-
ment in dull narrations. No time is pleasing to me that is
not spent in giving you new demonstrations of my affec-
tions ; well may I err in the rules of government and state,
when all my thoughts are taken up with love ; and yet per-
haps I should be less capable than I am, if my concern for
the establishment of your happiness, did not make me now
and then apply my self to those maxims which alone can
have the power to fix it. The ambition I have to make
you great, keeps alive my desire of continuing so my self.
The scepter I am very certain would soon grow too un-
wieldy for the weakness of my hand, were it not for the
charming hope I should shortly have the means of transfer-
ring it into yours ; His there I wish to see it shine, and
look on myself but as the steward of a glorious relict. I do
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 19
believe however that there are joys in my power to bestow
infinitely more powerful to you than this, but I think not
my heart and person sufficient rewards for the merits of my
Both well, and long* for the happy hour when I may give a
kingdom in dowry with my love ; till then I cannot say
my joy is complete, nor will I ever rest till this, the supream-
est desire my soul can know, is accomplished. I am now
going to Council, where I have ordered it so that the Earl
of Hamilton, who I know yor enemy, shall be accused of
things, which, for a time at least, shall deprive him of the
Power of giving any interuption to happiness I propose, to
myself in the enjoyment of my dear BothwelPs conversa-
tion ; adieu — expect in a few days to be called to court and
to the impatient arms of
M. R.
LETTER THE THIRD.
This letter was written in the beginning of the year
1564, at which time Queen Elizabeth proposed the Earl of
Leicester to her for a husband, according to Camden, Hol-
lingshed> and almost all the historians, who mention that
affair with wonder ; the greatest politicians of that age not
being able to fathom the secret motives which induced her
to so unexpected a behaviour.
What a sudden turn in our affairs ! Good God ! How
are the face of all things altered ! Scarce have I courage
to report the story — but you, alas ! are but too well acquaint-
ed with the misfortune in general, though the particulars
cannot yet have reached you : I am for ever doomed to be
the vassal of the English Queen, the tool of her cursed
policy, the property of her ambition, without a friend to
aid me. She writes me now that the reasons for breaking off
the match with Darnley were because she thinks Leicester
more worthy of my bed and crown ! Leicester raised but
by her partial favour, and long the mirror of her loosest
20 LOVE LETTERS OF
wishes, must now berecompensed with the Scottish crown,
but it shall perish first, though Murray and the faction again
threaten to take up arms ; though the remainder of the
Gordon race rejoyce in this opportunity of revenge, and all
I have endured nor all I can endure, shall frighten me to
an act so loathed, so scorned, no, if not decreed for Both-
well, I will be for no other : in this world I will be mistress
of myself, as for the rest let fate dispose. I am grown
weary^pf the light, and almost would resign that life they
make so wretched by perpetual troubles.
Attempt not to appear in Edinburgh, I intreatyou, where
all things being in confusion in this universal hurry, you may
fall a victim to the malice of your enemies. I am now more
than ever fearful of your betraying those secret practises
he formerly intrusted to your care, and that he privately
conspires against your life !
Hamilton gave me some hints of it the other day, and
Douglas afterwards in heat of blood occasioned by a debate
between them in my presence confirmed it : all are false !
all are traytors to their Queen ! Oh, Bothwell, where is one
faithful friend to be chosen out among a thousand base
designers ? I aim not at encrease of power, oppress not my
poor subjects by exorbitant taxations, nor envy the pro-
vinces my neighbours rule ; all I desire is to possess in peace
the little territories I was born to govern, and that is denyd
me. Sure I was born to everlasting cares ! like hydra heads,
one no sooner disappears, than another rises in its room,
and drives me from repose. I am in too much distraction to
say much at present ; but the person who brings you this
has a commission 'to inform you of all the circumstances of
this unexpected blow. I can only tell you that I am as ever
wholly devoted to the interests of my dear Bothwell, and
will yet some way or other compleat his happiness or sink
in the attempt. If you have any advice, which may be of
service in this exigence, let it be speedy, for never had 1
more need of consolation. Yours, M. R.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 21
P. S. Direct as your last under cover to the Nuncio, that
man is faithful ; but, beware of Seaton. He has a brother
in the service of the Hamiltons, I more than fear he has
already betrayed some thing's to your prejudice. My uncle
of Corocin contributes to my persecution by proposing- an
alliance with the House of Austria : the bearer will inform
you at fall the contents of this letter, Farewell ! pity me
and continue to love me !
M. R.
LETTER THE FOURTH.
The contents of this letter make it evident to be written
after her marriage with Lord Darnley, and not only Mel-
ville, but several of the historians also report, that the
Earl of Bothwell was recalled to Court about that time.
The reasons that she gives for her consent to the marriage
are such as, whoever reads any of the treatises of her life,
will find both natural and reasonable : all the writers con-
curring in this, that if she had continued single, the parties
of Hamilton and Murray would in a short time have left her
nothing- but the name of Queen.
Cruel as your reproaches are, I pardon them ; but oh, too
little sensible of the pang's I feel, you oug-ht rather to have
applied balsams than corrosives to wounds like mine ! 'tis
true I am married and have given myself to another, and in
that act have set aside the oft repeated promises I made you ;
but were self interests forgot and impartial justice had
liberty to speak, you would, with the softest compassion,
reflect on the sad necessity which forced me to it ! France,
Spain, England and Rome, were providing me husbands ;
Murray was depriving me of every thing but the name of
Queen ! How but by marriage could I put a stop to the
22 LOVE LETTERS OF
solicitations of the one side, or have curbed the insolence
of the other ? Well you know it was not in my power to
make choice of you, without I could have been content not
onely to see my crown torn from me, but also resign both
our lives to glut the implacable malice of our foes ! You
tell me Lord Darnley is handsome and well made ! unge-
nerous Bothwell ; well are you convinced I have no eyes for
any charms but yours ! What induced me to make choice
of him rather than any other, was because I would avoid
giving any umbrage to the contending Princes, whose equal
pretensions might have expected equal favours ; but in this
marriage, which in the world's eye will seem wholly induced
by inclination, neither Rome, nor France , nor Spain, can be
disobliged ; nor can Elizabeth with any show of justice blame
me ; because it was on her recommendation I first consented
to listen to his suit ; and in preferring him to Leicester, I
cannot but have the approbation of the whole judging
world ! Think not that it was love that furnished me with
arguments to justifie my choice ; for I protest by the same
dread power, by which I have so often swore, that Both-
well was the dearest thing on earth, that he is still so, and
ever will be so, while I have life ; and Darnley
but the property of my revenge on Murray ! Oh, Bothwell,
did you but know what unparalleled tyranny I was treated
with by that assuming traitor, you would not wonder I had
recourse for shelter to this expedient. The haughty arro-
gance of both he and Hamilton is now reduced to low sub-
missions, and though they murmur they dare not complain !
Depend on this truth, that nothing less than what I have
done could have secured the life of Bothwell.
The cruel and designing Murray had irretrievably made
you the sacrifice of his ambition, and I think it needless to
say, that motive was sufficient and perhaps the most
weighty of any to influence me to this action ; that, by
making my person the victim of one's, I might preserve the
more dearer part of me from falling one to the other's more
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 23
destructive passion ! The first step I took was to inspire the
new made King- with notions to your advantage. By the
time this reaches you, you will receive an order to return
to court, where you will be encouraged and promoted. I
shall see you, my dear Bothwell, though not as I could
wish, yet I shall see you in safety, and while Heaven
permits that blessing- to me; I never can be truly miserable.
M. R.
LETTER THE FIFTH.
There can be no certainty of the date of this, any farther
than that it was writ presently after the arrival of Bothwell,
they having never, as the contents expressly state, seen
each other in private, till this billet appointed the place of
assignation.
The Lady Lusse, at whose house they met, was a near
relation of the Earl's mother, and entirely in his interests ;
as appears, not only in the trust the Queen reposed in her,
but also by assisting her and assisting him with a large sum
of money, when before his favour with the court party, his
extravagancies had reduced him to great straits : this from
Causin, who, to render it improbable that the Queen should
love him, speaks of his person and behaviour with the
utmost contempt, calling him a man of desperate fortune,
and capable of the most mean and vile actions.
I believe you are now perfectly convinced that there
was an absolute necessity for my marriage, though the re-
gret with which you behold me in another's arms, will not
permit you to acknowledge it. I lost nothing of the few
words you spoke to me as you left the drawing-room. I
have provided to gratifie the impatience you expressed for
a renewal of those joys we have been so long deprived of!
The Lady Lusse, who is in the secret of my heart, pretends
24 LOVE LETTERS OF
an indisposition. A visit from me will not be wondered at,
because the whole court knows how much she is in my fa-
vour. I will be at her apartment to-morrow by seven in
the evening, but would have you prevent that hour, lest
any of the pages or maids of honour who attend me should
take notice of you being there. 'Tis easy for you to go in-
cognito ; I wish to Heaven it weremo greater difficulty for
me. Our interviews would then be more frequent, and love
make up for want of grandeur. But I shall defer giving you
any testimony of the transports which the expectation of
seeing you afford, till I am so blest in reality.
Adieu, my dear Bothwell. I have time to add no more
than that I am, and ever shall be,
Yours, M. R.
LETTER THE SIXTH.
This was sent to Bothwell at the time when the animo-
sities between the Queen and her husband were grown to
such a height ; and proves, that if she was accessary to his
death, it was, however, contrived and plotted by Murray,
though Buchanan, with so much warmth, espouses his
cause, contrary to all the other authors of that time, who
clearly make manifest, that both he and Morton were the
chief abettors of that horrid deed.
With a difficulty not to be imagined, not to be expressed,
do I get an opportunity of writing this. My bodily indis-
position, joyned to the troubles of my mind, render me in-
capable of invention. I suffer myself to endure the eter-
nal presence of the persons I most hate, rather than be at
the pains of making an excuse to be alone. That spirit,
that courage which was used to bear me through the great-
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 25
est fatigues is now evaporated and extinct. A laziness of
soul possesses me. I cannot think, I cannot resolve on any
thing-. Assist me in this perplexity, my dear Both well !
Advise me, comfort me, find some way for my relief!
I have no friend but you, and sure, if you are such,
you will not suffer me long to bear these insults. But what
is it I am asking ? 'Tis dangerous to be loyal ! Poor
Rizio ! only because he loved his Queen, fell a sacrifice to
this injurious husband! My life is next — nor am I spared
but for the sake of the unborn heir of empire. Delivered
once of that dear burthen, my business in this world is
done, and Darnley will reign alone. I know that my
death alone can gratify the ambition of that ungrateful
man ; or the unceasing malice of the English Queen. Yet
might a way be found to snatch me from the impending
ruin, had any one the boldness to attempt it. Murray, all
stern and fierce as he is by nature, expresses a concern for
my ill-treatment, and seemed to hint at some design on foot
for recovering that prerogative I so unadvisedly gave up.
But he, alas ! has been so sullen already — so arbitrary and
insulting when in power, I dread to invest him with the
same again — I fear it would be exchanging one misfortune
for another. If he should communicate any of his inten-
tions to you, answer him with caution. If he could be sin-
cere, I know he has the means to serve me — fathom him,
if possible, and let me know your opinion directed under
cover to Lady Lusse.
The Bishop of Ross informs me that Morton is returning
from the North ; if so, I may believe that Murray's work-
ing brain hath not been idle — but whether for mine or his
interest, Heaven only can resolve. Keep a fair correspond-
ence with him, however, till we see the issue, which
a, little time will soon determine. I would reward the
fidelity of La Ruch, by giving him some handsome post
about my person, but as affairs are it maybe dangerous both
E
26 LOVE LETTERS OF
for him and me ; assure him of my gratitude and favour,
when once the times will permit me to make show of it.
Farewell, keep me ever in your thoughts.
M.R.
P. S. Since I wrote this, Murray has been to visit me, and
finding- me all bathed in tears, the daily tribute which my
griefs exact, bade me be of good comfort, for a blow
would soon be given, which would restore all things to
their proper order. I know not what he means, unless it
be the death of the King, nor had I time to ask. Hamilton
came in and broke off our conversation. I wish you would
inform yourself and me with all convenient speed, but do
it in a manner he may not think I am concerned in the en-
quiry. Once more adieu, my ever dear Bothwell. Pity
me, pray for me, and never cease to love me.
LETTER THE SEVENTH.
There is little contained in this, any more than a confir-
mation of the foregoing one ; viz. that Morton and Murray
were the first proposers of the murder of the King, and
that Bothwell was no more than their agent in the affair, as
indeed is manifest enough in their being the persons who
make a kind of mock-accusation, that they might have a
better opportunity of clearing him by a form of judicature.
That I answered yours no sooner was owing to the strug-
gles in my mind occasioned by proposals so shocking to a
woman of my gentle nature. Heaven knows I love not
blood, and the thoughts of having that of a husband is ter-
rible to reflection ; yet self-preservation is the first of laws*
and if there remain no other means, I must submit to this.
I could wish either _that Murray was not engaged in the
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 27
design, or that he did not know I was acquainted with it.
You, my dear Bothwell, are too liable to give credit to his
insinuations, but I both fear and hate him. Who knows
what use he may hereafter make of the guilt he makes me
to become a sharer in? But it is now past remedy, and I
must make a show of confidence. Never was a soul more
hurried than mine has been this dreadful night ! A thou-
sand horrible ideas have run through my distracted brain ;
sometimes I thought I saw the King all covered over with
wounds, and with his dying breath imploring vengeance
on his inhuman murderers ! At others, wild imagination
presented the conspiracy unravelled, and Morton, yourself
and Murray, already fallen victims of his revenge ; while
he, exulting in his cruelty, held a drawn dagger at my
breast ! Oh, what variety of horrors has this design in-
volved me in ! Why was I endued with a soul so little ca-
pable of cruelty, yet urged to acts that have so much the
appearance of it ? I never loved this Darnley, and his in-
gratitude has made me hate him. Yet could I with pleasure
part with some of my blood to ransom his, were there a
possibility of avoiding it. How am I then guilty ? 'Tis
he himself that brings on his own fate. He forces me, he
drives me to this abhorred extremity ; and his must be the
blame. Oh, that I could always retain this thought ! That
I could wholly banish a softness prejudicial to my peace L
But 'twill not be, in spite of all my efforts, and all my
monstrous wrongs. Pity returns, and overwhelms my soul !
Cure me of this weakness, and inspire me with notions
suitable to the enterprise in hand ; the very idea will other-
wise distract me, and in the moment of the execution, I
shall cry out, Forbear ! and all betray ! Exert, then, my
dear Bothwell, that all-prevailing wit and eloquence of
yours to furnish me with arguments to overcome so unsea-
sonable tenderness. 'Tis in your power to make me almost
any thing. Represent the injuries I have received from this
tyrannic husband, the vast indignities, the dangers, which
28 LOVE LETTERS OF
nothing but his death can free me from ; but above all,
make me remember, that while he lives I am deprived of
the power to make my Bothwell happy. That last remon-
strance, perhaps, may arm my feeble resolution, and while
that glorious image is in view, I could, methinks, with un-
relenting hands, myself perform that deed. I expect a let-
ter from you this night, with a further account of the whole
plan of this design, which, while in agitation, will never
suffer me to know a moment's peace. Afford me all the sa-
tisfaction you are able in this tempest of my divided
thoughts, and know, what I do, I do for you.
M. R.
LETTER THE EIGHTH.
This plainly appears to have been written soon after the
murder of the King, which happening on the 10th of Fe-
bruary, 1567, and the process of divorce between the Earl
and Lady Jane Gordon, his wife, being issued the 26th of
April, the same year, makes it evident that this must be
sent before he had solicited the court upon it. Concerning
the times of these two transactions there is no need to quote
any particular author, all historians agreeing as to this.
By Darnley's death I am indeed once more a Queen,
again enjoy those pleasures which power affords, and have
the means of punishing and rewarding indifferent persons,
and in trifling causes, yet am still circumscribed. The
more material business of my life remains unfinished. I am
a Queen, but you are not a King ; till I accomplish that,
the work is not complete, nor can I taste the sweets of
royalty.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 29
I begin to think Murray at last sincere, and approve of
your design in engaging him to favour your divorce, which
the Bishop seems to make a light matter of, but I am
afraid will not be so easily attained as he or you may ima-
gine. The apology you make for your long stay at Dum-
barton is altogether needless. I am so far from resenting it,
that I look on this self-denial as the most prudent thing you
ever did. There are at this time many eyes upon our ac-
tions, and to be too frequently seen together at present
might be a means of preventing of our being for ever toge-
ther hereafter. Send me a copy of what you write to
Murray, enclosed in your next, and if possible make an inte-
rest with Lansford, in whose power it is to be serviceable
to you on this account. Let my secretary know what sums
are wanting to carry it on, and they shall be remitted to
you. Morton and some others attend to speak with me,
and I have time to say no more, but that I am ever, my
dear Bothwell,
M. R.
P. S. The Bishop of Ross intends you a long letter of
instruction, which I would have you observe in every
thing. You have not a better, or a more sincere friend on
earth.
30 LOVE LETTERS OF
LETTER THE NINTH.
It was in the utmost transports of impatient and expect-
ing - love that this epistle was dictated, and seems to be im-
mediately after the Earl had obtained the divorce from his
wife, which, according- to Castlenau, Melvill, and Bucha-
nan, was on the 11th or 12th of May, 1567-
Fortune, grown weary of persecuting* me, at length
grows as extravagant in her blessings as she was in the for-
mer part of my life in her cruelty ; and your divorce being-
looked upon as good as completed, Murray himself
proposed you to me as an husband, nay, seemed eager in
his pressures that I would give him my promise that you
should become so immediately you were in condition.
Scarce could I contain the joy of my exulting soul — scarce
keep my tongue from letting him know how much my
heart took part in his persuasions. Never did I so much as
then assume the politician. Had any other discoursed to me
in the manner, sure I am I had not been able to conceal the
pleasure it gave me ! But the often-expdr^aced falsehood
of that Earl secured my caution, and made me reply no
otherwise than that I would be advised by him in every
thing. 'Tis possible that he may in this be cordial ; but to
apprehend the worst is certainly the most safe. He cannot,
however, recede from what he has sayd, and Morton, and
several others, have of late spoke of you with that respect,
that I am sensible he has communicated to them his inten-
tions of uniting us.
Though I know you are to be in Edinburgh in so short a
time, I could not delay making you the partaker of those
transports you are the author of. There is a delicacy in
such a love as mine, which will not suffer me to be blessed
alone, and when I think this happy news has reached you,
I shall indulge myself in sympathy with those ecstasies
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 31
which I flatter myself you will feel at the receipt of so
unexpected an i nformation. Make all the convenient speed
you can to town ; I now long- with double impatience for
your presence ; it is not Bothwell, a man whose freedom
with me love alone could authorise — but my intended hus-
band and future king-, that I shall now embrace. Haste
then to the arms, though ever present to the heart, of
M.R.
LETTER THE TENTH.
This was occasioned on the first contrivance of the pre-
tended ravishment, as Buchanan terms it, and discovers
also that Murray and Morton had a hand in this, as well as
in the murder of the King, though Murray made this ac-
tion appear wholly the Queen's own act, when the affair
was examined into by the delegates of Queen Elizabeth at
York.
I received your* at a time when I was overwhelmed in grief
that scarce the flowing tears would give me leave to read
it. Need had I, my dear Bothwell, of all that consolation
which this new stratagem affords ; yet am I not convinced
(plausible as it seems) of its success ; we are so much ac-
customed to treachery, that methinks there is nothing to be
depended on. Should this pretended rebellion you have on
hand be detected or betrayed by any one you confide in, by
what pretence can I screen you from the sword of justice ?
Should I not be obliged to give you up to law, and hear
you condemned for this imaginary crime ? However, as our
case is desperate, I will not confine you from making use of
all the methods ingenious love can form for our common
felicity.
32 LOVE LETTERS OF
This brings a summ large enough to raise more men than
you will have occasion for, and depend, that I will come
attended by as few as possible. Hamilton is the per-
son I most fear, both for his courage, and the interest he
has in those parts. I cannot think it was well advised
that Murray should not be in the way. His presence
would have been of infinitively more service than that of
Morton, but that is now past recall ! But if he has en-
gaged so many hands as he pretends to you, for the
signing the articles of our marriage, I do not indeed fore-
see that it will be in the power of the contrary party to op-
pose it. I must, however, appear all along refractory to
that which is the only wish of my desiring soul. How
shall I so greatly dissemble ? How appear at the head of
an army, animating them to pursue to death the man I love
far more than life ! How seem to represent that as a rape,
which to embrace I would run through the most imminent
dangers ? Assist me, all the artifices of my sex ! For all
will be too little in such a circumstance. The Bishop of
Ross smiles at my fears, and is assured of success. I know
his integrity ; and I find Murray has been perfectly sincere in
this affair — doubt not but that he has left emissaries capa-
ble of bringing it about : yet doubts and anxieties are ever
the inseparable companions of love while in pursuit. Hea-
ven send ours once completed, and give some period to this
distracting suspence ! Adieu.
M. R.
P. S. Once more I warn you to be careful whom you
trust in this affair. Remember tis our last stake, and if that
fails, farewell to all hopes of happiness hereafter.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 33
LETTER THE ELEVENTH.
Though Buchanan so very strenuously takes upon him
the vindication of Murray, 'tis evident by this and the pre-
ceding- letter, that he was the promoter of this design, and
that before he left Edinburgh he had engaged most of the
nobility to set their hands to the articles of marriage between
the Queen and Bothwell. It is remarked by Castlenau,
Melville, Causin, and even by Camden himself, that when
there was any sinister affair in hand, that subtile politician,
Murray, always took care to be absent, leaving his under
engines to work out the schemes he had formed, and by
that means reaped all the profit of his designs, and threw
all the odium on the Queen.
I write to you with infinitively more tranquillity of mind
than that with which my last was dictated. Murray has
well retrieved his character, and more contributed to my
felicity than heretofore to my vexation. The Bishop of
Orkney, from whom I least expected it, is wholly on our
side ; and 'tis the Earl to whom we are indebted for this
change in his behaviour : I put myself among the obliged ,
because I am really so, though they who serve me most
believe at the same time they are acting the reverse of my
inclinations. See by this how very necessary dissimulation
is. My very enemies, by immagining they undo me, make
the happiness of my life ; and those who wish to see me
most wretched, unite to make me most completely blest !
Did Morton, Orkney, and the rest of that turbulent faction ,
know the perfect attachment we have to each other, would
they plot to joyn us ? No ! they would sever us for
ever ! Thus, by a concealment of our mutual tenderness,
do we disappoint all the stratagems which would otherwise
be formed to the ruin of it, and triumph in security. I ex-
F
34 LOVE LETTERS OF
pect not to hear from you any more, neither do I desire it.
The great design grows now so near the point of being
executed, that I would have your thoughts wholly taken
up with managing to the best advantage this last and only
trial of our fortune. I am now of opinion that it cannot
fail, and feed my fond imagination with a thousand glorious
ideas of your approaching greatness ! It will be a joy un-
speakable to see you on the Scottish throne ; but, to reflect
you are seated there by me, a pride and pleasure which it
is not in language to represent, and can only be reached by
thought.
Oh, myBothwell, my heart beats high with expecta-
tion, and every faculty of my soul's on fire with the impa-
tient hope. 'Tis but three days before the grand catastrophe
arrives, yet do they seem so many ages! Be you more
cool to attend the longed for issue, or you will be little able
to carry on the charge entrusted to your care, and on which
depends not only our lives, but fortune and fame ! Indulge
in secret the swelling rapture ; but let no outward sign of
joy appear, till you are past prevention in the arms of
M. R.
1
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 33
Here end the MS. letters, ascribed to Mary. I have
taken no liberties with the orthography or style. If they
are from the pen of the Scottish Queen, they were written
in French, — for she did not generally write in Scotch, — and
are nothing- indebted to the translator. They seem vulgar
in parts — but perhaps we form too high notions of the deli-
cacy and refined accomplishments of that age ! The cele-
brated and lovely Anna Boleyn wrote to her cousin in the
country, from London. " Don't forget to feed the chick-
ens ! You know when I was in the country I could eat my
loaf of bread, my pound of bacon, and drink my tankard
of ale, but here the half serves me! 'My good mother
went to Cheapside the other day, and bought me two Hol-
land smocks at eightpence per ell, &c. &c."* From this
specimen of exalted rank in those days, and language and
sentiments which we now call vulgar and indecorous, I
think it would be straining the point too far, to judge of the
elegance of our progenitors by our more refined and accom-
plished epistolary modes of communication. I might urge
another argument in favour of the letters and sonnets.
Women in love are not always limited by the cold and frigid
rules which custom on other occasions has imposed on their
sex. Hence I think it" within the pale of reason that these
letters and sonnets should not be considered spurious, on the
ground that they are not so elegant and delicate as might
be expected from a young lady of high rank in our days.
To fortify my position I might triumphantly cite the ma-
lignant letter of Mary Queen of Scots to Queen Elizabeth,
when the former was a prisoner, detailing the slanderous
gossip of her keeper's wife, the Countess of Shrewsbury.
The beastly scandal related solely to the private life of the
English Queen ; and, the very generous, accomplished, and
delicate, Queen of Scots, in that letter, uses language at
* Original letters of Anna Boleyn, in the British Museum.
36 LOVE LETTERS OF
once so base, obscene, and filthy, that I would not run the
risk of offending* my readers by reprinting it in this volume,
had not Whitaker attempted to justify its purport — name-
ly, to annoy Elizabeth — and the lovely and accomplished
Mademoiselle de Keralio inserted it in her life of Mary. —
Vide the Appendix. H. C.
[These are the letters which Buchanan has given to the
world as those publicly sent to Elizabeth ; but it should
be recollected, that the whole contents of the casket were
privately laid before the English Queen.]
A Letter written by her from Glasgow to Both well,
proving her hate to her husband, and some suspicions of
practising his death : which Letter was written in French,
and here ensueth, translated word for word.
It appears, that with your absence there isalsojoyned
forge tfulness, seeing that at your departing you promised
to make me advertisement of your news from time to time.
The waiting upon them yesterday, caused me to be almost
in such joy as I will be at your returning, which you have
delayed longer than your promise was. As to me, howbeit
I have no further news from you according to my commis-
sion. I bring the man with me to Cragmillar upon Mon-
day /where he will be all Wednesday, and I will go to Edin-
burgh, to draw blood of me, if in the mean time I get no
news to the contrary from you. He is more gay than ever
you saw him ; he puts me in remembrance of all things that
may make me believe he loves me. Perhaps you will say,
that he makes love to me : of the which I take so great
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 37
pleasure, that I enter never where he is, but incontinent I
take the sickness of my sore side, I am so troubled with it.
If Pareis brings me that which I send him for, I trust it shall
amend me. I pray you advertise me of your news at length,
and what I shall do, in case you be not returned when I am
come there ; for in case you work not wisely, I see that the
whole burden of this will fall upon my shoulders. Provide
for all things, and discourse upon it first with yourself. I
send this by Betoun, who goes to one day of law of the
Lord of Balfours. I will say no further, saving I pray you
to send me good news of your voyage. From Glascow this
Saturday in the morning.
ANOTHER LETTER TO BOTHWELL, CONCERNING THE HATE
OF HER HUSBAND, AND PRACTICE OF HIS MURDER.
Being departed from the place where I left my heart, it
is easy to be judged what was my countenance, seeing that
I was even as much as one body without a heart, which
was the occasion that while dinner time I held purpose to
no body, nor yet durst any present themselves unto me,
judging that it was not good so to do. Four miles ere I
came to the town, one gentleman of the Earl of Lenox
came and made his commendations unto me, and excused
him that he came not to meet me, by reason that he durst
not enterprize the same, because of the rude words that I
had spoken to Cunningham, and he desired that he should
come to the inquisition of the matter that I suspected him
of. This last speaking was of his own head, without any
commission. I answered to him, that there was no receit
could serve against fear, and that he would not be afraid in
case he were not culpable, and that I answered but rudely
to the doubts that were in his letters : So that I made him
hold his tongue ; the rest were too long to write. Sir
38 LOVE LETTERS OF
James Hamilton met me, who shewed that the other time,
when he heard of my coming", he departed away, and sent
Houston to shew him that he would never have believed
that he would have pursued him, nor yet accompanied him
with the Hamiltons. He answered that he was only come
but to see me, and that he would neither accompany Stew-
art nor Hamilton but by my commandment. He desired
that he would come and speak with him, he refused it. The
Lord of Luse, Houston and Cauldwallis son, with forty
horse or thereabout, came and met me. The Lord of Luse
said that he was charged to one day of law, by the king's
father, which should be this day, against his own hand
writing, which he has. And yet notwithstanding, knowing
of my coming it is delayed, he was inquired to come to
him, which he refused, and swears that he will endure no-
thing of him.
Never one of that town came to speak to me, which
causes me to think that they are his, and nevertheless he
speaks good, at the least his son. I see no other gentleman,
but they of my company. The king sent for Joachim yes-
ternight, and asked of him, why I lodged not beside him,
and that he would rise the sooner if that were, and where-
fore I come, if it was for good appointment, and if you were
there in particular, and if I had made my estate, if I had
taken Pareis and Gilbert to write to me, and that I would
send Joseph away. I am abashed who has shewn him so
far, yea he spake even of the marriage of Bastian. I in-
quired him of his letters, whereunto he complained of the
cruelty of some, answered that he was astonished, and
that he was so glad to see me, that he believed to die for
gladness; he found great fault that I was pensive, I de-
parted to supper, this bearer will tell you of my arriving,
he prayed me to return, the which I did, he declared unto
me his sickness, and that he would make no testament but
only leave all things to me, and that I was the cause of his
malady, because of the regret that he had that I was so
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 39
strange unto him. And thus he said, you ask me what I
mean by the cruelty contained in my letter, it is of you
alone that will not accept of my offers and repentance. I
confess that I have failed, but not into that which I ever
denied, and such like has fallen to sundry of your subjects
which you have forgiven. I am young*. You will say, that
you have forgiven me oftentimes, and yet that I return to my
faults. May not any man of my age for lack of counsel
fall twice or thrice, or in lack of his promise, and at last re-
pent himself, and be chastised by experience ? If I may ob-
tain pardon, I protest I shall never make fault again. And
I crave no other thing but that we may be at bed and board
together as husband and wife, and if you will not consent
hereunto, I will never rise out of this bed, I pray you tell
me your resolution. God knows how I am punished for
making my God of you, and for having no other thought
but on you, and if at any time I offend you, you are the
cause, because when any offends me, if for my refuge I
might complain unto you, I would speak it unto no other
body ; but when I hear any thing, not being familiar with
you, necessity constrains me to keep it in my breast : and
that causes me to try my wit for very anger.
I answered straight unto him, but that would be over-
long to write at length. I asked why he would pass away
in the English ship, he denies it, and swears thereunto, but
he grants that he spake with the men. After this I in-
quired of the inquisition of Highgate, he denied the same,
while I shewed him the very words was spoken. At which
time he said, that Minto had advertised him that it was said
that some of the counsel had brought one letter to me to be
subscribed to put him in prison, and to slay him if he made
resistance. And he asked the same of Minto himself, who
answered, that he believed the same to be true. In the
morning I will speak to him upon this point. As to the
rest, William Highgates he confessed it, but it was the
morning after my coming ere he did it. He would very
40 LOVE LETTERS OF
fain that I should lodge in his lodging-, I refused it,
and said to him, that he behoved to be purged, and that
could not be done here ; he said to me, I hear say you have
brought one letter with you, but I had rather have passed
with you. I think he believed that he would have sent him
away prisoner ; I answered that I would take him with me
to Cragmillar, where the physician and I might help him,
and not be far from my son ; he answered, that he was ready
when I pleased, so I would assure him of his request : he
desires no body to see him, he is angry when I speak of
Walcar, and says, that he shall pluck the ears from off his
head, and that he lies : for I inquired him upon that, and
that he was angry with some of the Lords, and would
threaten them ; he denies that, and says, he loves them all,
and prays me to give trust to nothing against him ; as to me
he would rather give his life ere he did any displeasure to
me. And after this he shewed me of so many little flat-
teries, so coldly, and so wisely, that you will be ashamed
thereat. I had almost forgot that he said he could not
doubt of me in this purpose of Highgates, for he would never
believe that I, who was his proper flesh, would do him
any evil, as well it was shewn that I refused to subscribe
the same ; but as to any others that would pursue him at
least he should sell his life dear enough, but he suspected
no body, nor yet would not, but would love all that I loved .
he would not let me depart from him, but desired that I
should wake with him, I make it seem that I believe that
all is true, and takes heed thereto, and excused my self for
this night that I could not wake ; he says, he sleeps not
well, you saw him not better, nor speak more humble.
And if I had not a proof of his heart of wax, and that mine
were not of a diamond, whereinto no shot can make breach,
but that which comes forth of your hand, I would have
almost had pity of him. But fear not, the place shall hold
unto the death. Remember in recompence thereof that ye
snffer not yours to be won by that false race that will travel
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 41
no less with you for the same. I believe they have been at
school together, he has ever the tear in his eye, he salutes
every body, yea unto the least, and makes piteous moan
unto them to make them have pity on him. This day his
father bled at the mouth and nose, guess what presage that
is. I have not yet seen him, he keeps his chamber.
The King desires that I should give him meat with mine
own hands. But give no more trust where you are then I
shall do here. This is my first journey, I shall send the
same tomorrow. I write all things, howbeit they be of
little weight, to the end that ye may take the best of all to
judge upon. I am in doing of a work here that I hate
greatly. Have you not a desire to laugh to see me lie so
well, at the least to dissemble so well, and to tell
him truth betwixt hands. He shewed me almost all
that is in the name of the Bishop and Sunderland,
and yet I have never touched one word of that you shewed
me, but only by force flattering, and to pray him to assure
himself of me. And by complaining on the Bishop I have
drawn it all out of him. You have heard the rest. We are
coupled with two false races, the devil sunder us, and God
knit us together for the most faithful couple that ever
he united. This is my faith, I will die in it. Excuse it, I
write evil, you may guess the half of it, but I cannot mend
it, because I am not well at ease, and very glad to write
unto you when the rest are asleep, sith I cannot sleep as
they do, and as I would desire, that is, in your arms my
dear love, whom I pray God to preserve from all evil, and
send you repose ; I am going to seek mine till the morning
when I shall end my Bille ; but I am vexed that it stops me
to write news of my self unto you, because it is so long.
Advertise me what you have deliberated to do in the matter,
you know upon this point, to the end that we may under-
stand each other well, that nothing thereof be spilt. I am
weary, and going to sleep, and yet I cease not to scribleall
this paper in so much as remains thereof. Wearied might
this pocky man be, that causes me to have so much pain :
G
42 LOVE LETTERS OF
for without him I should have a far pleasanter subject to
discourse upon. He is not overmuch deformed, yet he has
received very much. He has almost slain me with his
breath, it is worse than your uncles, and yet I come no
nearer unto him but in a chair at the bed's feet, and being
at the other end thereof.
[The message of the father in the gate.
The purpose of Sir James Hamilton.
Of that the L. of Lusse shewed me of the delay.
Of the demands that she asked of Jaochim.
Of my estate, of my company, of the occasion of my
coming-, and of Joseph.
Item, The purpose that he and I had together.
Of the desire he has to plese me, and of his repentance.
Of the interpretation of his letter.
Of William Highgate's matter of his departing.
Of Monsieur de Levingston.]
I had almost forgot that Monsieur de Levingston said in
the Lady Rerese's ear at supper, that he would drink to the
folk I wist of, if I would pledge them. And after supper
he said to me when I was leaning upon him warming me at
the fire ; you have fair going to see such folk, yet you can-
not be so welcome unto them, as you left some body this
day in sadness, that will never be merry while he see you
again. I asked of him, who that was ? With that he thrust
my body and said, that some of his folks had seen you in
faschery, you may guess at the rest. I wrought this day
while it was two hours upon this bracelet, for to put the
key of it within the lock thereof, which is coupled under-
neath with two cordwins. I have had so little time that it
is evil made; but I shall make one fairer in the mean
time.
Take heed that none that is here see it, for all the world
will know it ; because for haste it was made in their pre-
sence. I am now passing to my intended purpose. You
make me dissemble so far that I have horror thereat ; and
you cause me to do almost the office of a traitour. Remem-
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 43
ber how if it were not to obey you, I had rather be dead
ere I did it ; my heart bleeds at it. So that, he will not
come with me except upon condition that I will promise to
him that I shall be at bed and board with him as before,
and that I shall leave him not after ; and doing- this upon
my word he will do all thing's that I please, and come with
me ; but he prayed me to remain with him while another
morning. He spake very bravely at the beginning", as this
bearer will shew you, upon the purpose of the Englishmen,
and of his departing ; but in the end he returned again to
his humility. He shewed amongst other purposes that he
knew well enough, that my brother had shewed me that
thing which he had spoken in Scriveling ; of which he de-
nies the one half, and above all, that ever he came in his
chamber. For to make him trust me, it behoved me to fain
in some things with him ; therefore when he requested me
to promise unto him, that when he was whole we should
have both one bed, I said to him, fainingly and making me
believe his promises, that if he changed not purposes be-
twixt this and that time, I would be content therewith ; but
in the meantime I bad him take heed that he let no body
know thereof; because to speak amongst our selves the
Lords could not be offended, nor will evil therefore. But
they would fear in respect of the boasting he made of them,
that if ever we agreed together, he should make them kno w
the little account they took of him ; and that he coun-
selled me not to purchase some of them by him, they for
this cause would be in jealousie, if attains without their
knowledge, I should break the play set up in the contrary
in their presence. He said very joyfully ; and think you
they will esteem you the more for that ? but I am very glad
that you speak to me of the Lords, for I believe at this time
you desire that we should live together in quietness ; for if
it were otherways, greater inconveniency might come to
us both then we are aware of; but now I will do what ever
you will do, and will love all that you love, and desires
44 LOVE LETTERS OF
you to make them love in like manner ; for since they seek
not my life, I love them all equally. Upon this point the
bearer will shew you many small things. Because I have
over much to write, and it is late, I give trust unto him
upon your word. So that he will go upon my word to all
places. Alas, I never deceived any body ; but I remit me
altogether to your will.
Send me advertisement what I shall do, and whatsoever
thing shall come thereof I shall obey you. Advise to with
your self if you can find out any more secret invention by
medicine: for he should take medicine and the bath at
Cragmillar. He may not come forth of the house this long
time. So that by all that I can learn, he is in great suspi-
tion ; and yet notwithstanding he gives credit to my word ;
but yet not so far as that he will shew any thing to me.
But nevertheless I shall draw it out of him, if you will that
I avow all unto him. But I will never rejoyce to defame
any body that trusts in me ; yet notwithstanding you may
command me in all things. Have no evil opinion of me for
that cause, by reason you are the occasion of it your self,
because for mine own particular revenge I would not do it to
him. He gives me some checks of that which I feared, yea,
even in the quick, he says thus far, that his faults were pub-
lisht, but there is that commits faults that believe they will
never be spoken of, and yet they will speak of great and
small. As towards the Lady Rerese he said, I pray God
that she may serve you for your honour. And said, it is
thought, and he believes it to be true, that I have not the
power of my self over my self, and that because of the re-
fuse I made of his offers. So that, for certainty he suspects
of the thing you know, and of his life. But as to the last,
how soon that I spake two or three good words unto him,
he rejoices, and is out of doubt.
I saw him not this evening to end your bracelet, to the
which I can get no locks, it is ready for them, and yet I
hear it will bring some evil, and may be seen if you chance
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 45
to be hurt. Advertise me if you will have it, and if you
will have more silver, and when I shall return, and how
far I may speak. He inrages when he hears of Lethington
or of you, or of my brother, of your brother he speaks no-
thing-, he speaks of the Earl of Argyle. I am in fear when
I hear him speak ; for he assures himself that he has not one
evil opinion of him. He speaks nothing 1 of them that is
ought neither good or evil, but flies that point. His father
keeps his chamber, I have not seen him. All the Hamil-
tons are here, that accompanies me very honourably. All
the friends of the other conveys me when I go to see him.
He desires me to come, and see him rise the morn betime.
For to make short, this bearer will tell you the rest. And
if I learn any thing here, I will make you a memorial at
even. He will tell you the occasion of my remaining.
Burn this letter, for it is over dangerous, and nothing well
said in it ; for I am thinking upon nothing but fraud. If
you be in Edinburgh at the receit of it, send me word soon.
Be not offended, for I give not over great credit. Now
seeing to obey you, my dear love, I spare neither honour,
conscience, hazard, nor greatness whatsoever, take it I
pray in good part ; and not after the interpretation of your
false good brother *, to whom I pray you give no credit,
against the most faithful lover that ever you had, or ever
shall have.
See not her whose faint tears should not be so much
praised nor esteemed, as the true and faithful travels which
I sustain for to merit her placet. For obtaining of the which
against my nature, I betray them that may impeach me.
God forgive me, and God give you, my only love, the hap
and prosperity which your humble and faithful love desires
of you, who hopes to be shortly another thing to you for
the reward of my irksome travels. It is late, I desire
never to cease from writing unto you, yet now after the
* Huntly. + Lady Bothwell.
46 LOVE LETTERS OF
kissing of your hands, I will end my letter. Excuse my
evil writing, and read it twice over. Excuse that thing
that is scribbled, for I had no paper yesterday when I writ
that of the memorial. Remember your love, and write un-
to her, and that very oft. Love me as I shall do you. Re-
member you of the purpose of the Lady Rerese, of the
Englishmen, of his mother, of the Earl of Argyle, of the
Earl Bothwell, of the lodging in Edinburgh.
ANOTHER LETTER TO BOTHWELL, CONCERNING CERTAIN
TOKENS THAT SHE SENT HIM.
My Lord, if the displeasure of your absence, of your
forgetfulness, the fear of danger so promised by every one
to your so loved person, may give me consolation, I leave
it to you to judge, seeing the mishap that my cruel lot and
continual misadventure, has hitherto promised me following
the misfortunes and fears as well of late as of a long time
by past, the which you do know. But for all that I will in
no wise accuse you, neither of your little remembrance,
neither of your little care, and least of all your promise
broken, or of the coldness of your writing, since I am else
so far made yours, that that which pleases you is acceptable
to me, and my thoughts are so willingly subdued unto yours,
that I suppose that all that cometh of you, proceeds not of
any of the causes aforesaid, but rather for such as be just and
reasonable, and such as I desire my self. Which is the
final order that you promised to take, for the surety and ho-
nourable service of the only supporter of my life. For which
alone I will preserve the same, and without the which I de-
sire not but suddain death. And to testifie unto you how
lowly I submit me under your commandments, I have sent
you in sign of homage by Pareis the ornament of the head,
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 47
which is the chief guide of the other members. Inferring
thereby, that by the seising of you in the possession of the
spoil of that which is principal, the remnant cannot be but
subject unto you, and with consenting of the heart.
In place whereof since I have else left it unto you, I send
unto you one sepulture of hard stone coloured with black,
sawin with tears and bones. The stone I compare to my
heart, that as it is carved in one sure sepulture or harbour of
your commandments, and above all of your name and me-
mory, that are therein inclosed, as is my heart in this ring
never to come forth, while death grant unto you to one tro-
phie of victory of my bones, as the ring is filled, in sign you
have made one full conquest of me, of mine heart, and unto
that my bones are left unto you, in remembrance of your vic-
tory, and my acceptable love and willingness, for to be
better bestowed than I merit. The ameling that is about is
black, which signifies the stedfastness of her that sendeth
the same. The tears are without number, so are the
fears to displease you, the tears for your absence, the disdain
that I cannot be in outward effect yours, as I am without
faintness of heart and spirit, and of good reason, though my
merits were much greater than that of the most profit that
ever was, and such as I desire to be, and shall take pains in
conditions to imitate, for to be bestowed worthily under
your regiment. My only wealth receive therefore in as
good part the same, as I have received your marriage with
extreme joy, that which shall not part forth of my bosome
while that marriage of our bodies be made in publick, as a
sign of all that I either hope or desire of bliss in this world.
Yet my heart, fearing to displease you, as much in the read-
ing hereof, as it delights me in the writing, I will make an
end, after that I have kissed your hand, with as great affec-
tion as I pray God (O, the only supporter of my life) to give
you long and blessed life, and to me your good favour, as
the only good that I desire, and to the which I pretend. I
have shewn unto this bearer that which I have learned, to
48 LOVE LETTERS OF
whom I remit me, knowing" the credit that you give him, as
she doth, that will be for ever unto you an humble and
obedient lawful wife, that for ever dedicates unto you her
heart, her body, without any change as unto him that I have
made possessor of my heart, of which you may hold you as-
sured, that unto death shall no ways be changed, for evil
nor good shall never make me go from it.
ANOTHER LETTER TO BOTHWELL OF HER LOVE
TO HIM.
I have waked later there up then I would have done, if
it had not been to draw something out of him, which this
bearer will shew you, which is the fairest commodity, that
can be offered to excuse your affairs. I have promised to
bring him to him in the morn. Put order to it if you find it
good. Now sir, I have broken my promise, because you
commanded me nether to write nor send unto you ; yet I
have not done this to offend you. And if you knew the
fear that I have presently, you would not have so many
contrary suspitions in your thought, which notwithstanding
I treat and cherish as proceeding from the thing in the
world that I most desire and. seek fastest to have, which is
your good grace. Of the which my behaviour shall assure
me ; as to me I shall never despair of it. And prays you
according to your promise to discharge your heart unto me ;
otherwise I will think that my evil and the good handling*
of her that has not a third part of the faithful nor willing
obedience unto you that I bear, has won against my will
that advantage over me, which the second love of Jason
won. Not that I will compare you to one so unhappy as
he was, nor yet my self to one so unpitiful a woman as she.
Howbeit you cause me to be somewhat like unto her in any
thing that touches you, or that may preserve and keep you
unto her, to whom only you appertain : If it be so that I
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 49
may appropriate that which is won through faithful, yea
only loving" of you, as I do and shall do all the days of my
life, for pain or evil that can come thereof. In recompence
of the which, and of all the evils which you have been cause
of to me, remember you upon the place here beside. I
crave with that you keep promise to me in the morn, but
that we may meet together, and that you give no faith to
suspicions without the certainty of them. And I crave no
other thing of God, but that you may know that thing that
is in my heart, which is yours, and that he may preserve
you from all evil, at least so long as I have life, which
I repute not precious unto me, except in so far as it and I
both are agreeable unto you. I am going to bed, and will
bid you good night. Advertise me timely in the morning
how you have fared, for I will be in pain until I get word.
Make good watch ; if the bird get out of the cage, or with-
out her mate as the turtle. I shall remain alone to lament
your absence, how short that soever it be. This letter will
do, with a good heart, that thing which I cannot do my-
self, if it be not that I have fear that you are in sleeping. I
durst not write this before Joseph, Bastian, and Joachim,
that did but depart even when I began to write.
ANOTHER LETTER TO BOTHWELL CONCERNING THE DE-
PARTURE OF MARGARET CURWOOD, WHO WAS PRIVY,
AND HELPER OF ALL THEIR LOVE.
My heart, alas, must the folly of a woman, whose un-
thankfulness toward me you do sufficiently know, be occa-
sion of displeasure unto you ? considering that I could not
have remedied thereunto without knowing it ? And since
that I perceive it, I could not tell it you, for that I knew
not how to govern myself therein. For neither in that,
nor in any other thing, will I take upon me to do any thing
without knowledge of your will : which I beseech you let
-a-
H
50 LOVE LETTERS OF
me understand ; for I will follow it all my life, more wil-
lingly than you shall declare it to me. And if do not send
me word this night what you will that I shall do, I will
rid myself of it, and hazard to cause it to be enterprized
and taken in hand; which might be hurtful unto that
whereunto both we do tend. And when she shall be mar-
ried, I beseech you give me one, or else I will take such
as shall content you, for their conditions, but as for their
tongues or faithfulness towards you, I will not answer. I
beseech you, that an opinion of another person be not hurt-
ful in your mind to my constancy. Mistrust me, but then I
will put you out of doubt and clear my self. Refuse it not,
my dear life, and suffer me to make you some proof by my
obedience, my faithfulness, constancy and voluntary subjec-
tion, which I take for the pleasantest good that I might
receive, if you will accept it, and make no ceremony at it,
for you could do me no greater outrage, nor give more
mortal grief
ANOTHER LETTER SENT FROM STERLING TO BOTHWELL,
CONCERNING THE PRACTICE FOR HER RAVISHMENT.
Alas ! my Lord, why is your trust put in a person so un-
worthy, to mistrust that which is wholly yours? I am
mad. You had promised me that you would resolve all,
and that you would send me word every day what I should
do, you have done nothing thereof. I advertised you well
to take heed of your false brother-in-law ; he came to me,
and without shewing me any thing from you, told me that
you had willed him to write to you that that I should say,
and where and when you should come to me, and that
that you should do touching him, and thereupon hath
preached unto me that it was a foolish enterprize, and that
with mine honour I could never marry you, seeing that
being married, you did carry me away, and that his folks
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 51
would not suffer it, and that the Lords would unsay them-
selves, and would deny that they had said. To be short, he
is all contrary. I told him, that seeing I was come so far,
if you not withdraw yourself of yourself, that no perswa-
sion, nor death itself, should make me fail of my promise.
As touching 1 the place, you are too negligent (pardon me)
to remit yourself thereof unto me. Chuse it yourself, and
send me word of it. And in the mean time I am sick, I will
differ, as touching the matter it is too late. It was not long
of me that you have not thought thereupon in time. And
if you had not more changed your mind since mine absence
than I have, you should not be now to ask such resolving.
Well, there wanteth nothing on my part ; and seeing that
your negligence doth put us both in the danger of a false
brother, if it succeed not well, I will never rise again.
I send this bearer unto you, for I dare not trust your bro-
ther with these letters, nor with the business. He shall
tell you in what state I am, and judge you what amend-
ment these new ceremonies have brought unto me. I would
I were dead, for I see all goeth ill. You promised other
manner of matter of your foreseeing, but absence hath power
over you, who have two strings to your bow. Dispatch
the answer, that I fail not, and put no trust in your bro-
ther for this enterprize, for he hath told it, and is also quite
against it. God give you good night.
52 LOVE LETTERS OF
ANOTHER LETTER TO BOTHWELL, FOR THE PRACTICE AND
DEVICE TO EXCUSE THE RAVISHING.
Of the place and the time, I remit my self to your bro-
ther and to you. I will follow him, and will fail in no-
thing of my part. He findeth many difficulties : I think he
doth advertise you thereof; and what he doth advertise
you for the handling- of himself. As for the handling of
myself, I heard it once well devised. Methinks that your
services, and the long amity, having the good will of the
Lords, do well deserve a pardon, if above the duty of a
subject you advance yourself, not to constrain me, but to
assure yourself of such place nigh unto me, that other ad-
monitions or foreign perswasions may not let me from con-
senting to that that you hope your service shall make you
one day to attain : and to be short, to make yourself sure of
the Lords, and free to marry : and that you are constrained
for your surety, and to be able to serve me faithfully, to use
an humble request, joyned to an importune action. And to
be short, excuse yourself, and perswade them the most you
can, that you are constrained to make pursuit against your
enemies. You shall say enough, if the matter or ground do
like you, and many fair words to Ledinton. If you like not
the deed, send me word, and leave not the blame of all
unto me.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 53
ANOTHER LETTER TO BOTHWELL, OF THE PRACTICE FOR
HER RAVISHMENT, AND TO ADVISE HIM TO BE STRANGE
TO DO IT.
My Lord, since my letter written, your brother-in-law
that was, came to me very sad, and both asked me my coun-
cel, what he should do after to-morrow, because there be
many folks here, and among" others the Earl of Souther-
land, who would rather die, considering" the good they
have so lately received of me, than suffer me to be carried
away, they conducting- me ; and that he feared there should
some trouble happen of it : of the other side, that it should
be said that he were unthankful to have betrayed me. I
told him, that he should have resolved with you upon all
that; and that he should avoid, if he could, those that
were most mistrusted. He hath resolved to write thereof
to you of my opinion : for he hath abashed me to see him
so unresolved at the need. I assure myself, he will play
the part of an honest man. But I have thought good to ad-
vertise you of the fear he hath, that he should be charged and
accused of treason, to the end that without mistrusting him,
you may be the more circumspect, and that you may have the
more power. For we had yesterday more than three hundred
horse of his, and of Leniston. For the honour of God be
accompanied rather with more than less ; for that is the
principal of my care. I go to write my dispatch, and pray
God to send us a happy interview shortly. I write in haste,
to the end you may be advised in time.
54 LOVE LETTERS OF
NOTE.
That amazing miracle of impudence, in showing the
same letters one day in Scotch and the next in French, and
pretending them to be different in themselves, and both
in Mary's hand-writing, accounts very well by itself for
the conduct of Murray, in not entrusting the commissioners
at Westminster with even copies of the ten, though he did
with copies of the eight. Those were professedly adduced
as proofs against Mary, equally with these. " As they had
yesternight produced and shewed sundry wry tings, tending
to prove the hatred," &c. says Murray ; " so, for the further
satisfaction both of the Quene's Majestie and theyr lord-
ships, they were ready to produce and shew a great number
of other letters," &c. Yet these alone staid with the com-
missioners, even in copies. Those were instantly with-
drawn, both in copies and in originals. And what seems
plainly to intimate that the commissioners were privy to the
whole system of illusion, in secretary Cecil at least, who
altered and interlined the journal, as he pleased, and must
therefore be supposed to have directed the clerks too, as he
thought proper ; the journal of the day before, takes no
notice of those Letters being either produced or withdrawn.
But, had they not been withdrawn, in what a happy state
would the epistolary evidence against Mary have then
stood.
There would have been sundry letters in Scotch, pretend-
ing to be her hand-writing. There would have been seve-
ral of them also in French, equally pretending to be her
writing too. They were both the same. Yet one asserted,
she had written them in Scotch. The other affirmed, she
had written them in French. Each in effect called the
other an impostor. Each proved the other to be so.
The Sonnets are plainly one letter, written and sent to
one period of time. This appears from some of them run-
ning into the others, from the general connection that
spreads through many or most of them, and from the last
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 55
of them forming* obviously a conclusion to all. And the
rebels accordingly instructed the commissioners at West-
minster to consider them all as one sonnet.
I have pursued this ridiculous argument at a greater ex-
pense of time and words, than it had a right to claim at my
hands; in order to show it ridiculous, in every principle and
particle of it. — Whitaker.
56 LOVE LETTERS OF
LOVE SONNET OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS TO JAMES
EARL OF BOTHWELL,
CONSIDERED BY THE COMMISSIONERS AS ONE DOCUMENT.
O Dieux, ayez de moy compassion,
Et m'enseignez quelle preuve certaine
Je puis dormer, qui ne luy semble vaine,
De mon amour et ferme affection.
Las n'est-il pas ja en possession
Du corps, du cceur, qui ne refuse peine,
Ny deshonneur en la vie incertaine,
Offence de parens, ne pire affliction ?
Pour luy tous mes amis j'estime moins que rien,
Et de mes ennemis je veux esperer bien.
J'ay hazarde pour luy et nom et conscience ;
Je veus pour luy au monde renoncer ;
Je veux mourir pour le faire avancer :
Que reste plus pour prouver ma Constance ?
Entre ses mains, et en son plein pouvoir,
Je mets mon fils, mon honneur, et ma vie,
Mon pais, mes subjets ; mon ame assubjettie
Est toute a luy, et n'ay autre vouloir
Pour mon objet, que sans le decevoir
Suivre je veux, malgre toute Fenvie
Qu'issir en peut. Car je n'ay autre envie,
Que de ma foy luy faire appercevoir :
Que pour tempeste, ou bonasse, qu'il face,
Jamais ne veut changer demeure ou place.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 57
THE SONNETS
I have attempted to freely translate in the elegiac stanza
of Hammond and Shenstone, because I think it most ex-
pressive for love poetry. How far I have succeeded, my
readers may judge. H. C.
Ye Gods, upon your suppliant pity take,
And me inform — that from my soul may flow —
What proofs of sweet affection, for his sake,
Shall prompt my pen to paint my bosom's glow 1
Alas, does he already not possess
My heart, my person, that declines not pain,
Nor yet dishonour, nay, nor wretchedness,
Could I his love ensure, nor sue in vain !
Friends may withdraw — afflictions dire may come,
But these are nothing* to my ardent mind —
With him, in hope, through enemies I'll roam,
And hazard all, to fame and honour blind.
For his sweet sake I will renounce the world ;
To make him great, even death itself were dear :
Reft of a crown, or into exile hurled,
Were nought to me, so Both well, lov'd, be near.
Placed in his power, my son, my honour, life,
My country, subjects, soul, all, all subdued
By him, the conqueror of my will, in strife
Of sweet emotions, that my love pursued.
Without deceit, in spite of envy, aye,
And all her votaries, this is all my aim —
That he may see my faithfulness, and sigh,
And haply feel my soul's consuming flame.
i
58 LOVE LETTERS OF
Bref, je feray de ma foy telle preuve,
Qu'il cognoistra, sans faute, ma Constance ;
Non par mes pleurs, ou feinte obeissance,
Comme autres sont, mais par diverse espreuve
Elle, pour son honneur, vous doit obeissance :
Moy vous obe'issant, j'en puis recevoir blasme,
N'estant,a mon regret, comme elle, vostre femme
Et si n'aura pourtant en ce point preminence.
Pour son proufit elle use de Constance,
Car ce n'est peu d'honneur d'estre de vos biens dame :
Et moy, pour vous aimer, j'en puis recevoir blasme,
Et ne luy veux ceder en toute Inobservance.
Elle de vostre mal n'a ^apprehension ;
Moy je n'ay nul repos, tant je crain Tapperrence.
Par Padvis des parens ille eust votre accointance ;
Moy, malgre tous les miens, vous porte affection.
[Et neantmoins, mon coeur, vous doutez de ma con-
stance],
Et de sa loyaute prenez ferme asseurance.
Par vous, mon coeur, et par vostre alliance,
Elle a remis sa maison en honneur ;
Elle a joiiy par vous de la grandeur,
Dont tous les siens n'avoient nulle asseurance.
De vous, mon bien, elle a eu la Constance,
Et a gaigne pour un temps vostre coeur ;
Par vous elle a eu plaisir en bon heur,
Et pour vous a honneur et reverence ;
Et n'a perdu, sinon la joiiissance
D'un fascheux sot, qu'elle avoit cherement.
Je ne la plain d'aimer done ardement
Celuy, qui n'a en sens, ny en vaillance,
Ny en beaute, en bonte, ny Constance,
Point de second. Je vy en ceste foy.
MAKY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
Fix'd as it is, nor calms nor storms shall move
Its fervent dwelling- — where, to interests blind —
It blazes, hallo w'd, at thy altar, love,
And sighs in flame, oh, were my Bothwell kind !
But soon he shall such proofs receive of me,
As, without fiction, shall pourtray the truth :
Nor yet by weeping*, nor despondency,
Nor feigned obedience to the noble youth.
So others did — but stranger practice now,
From dear experience, shall my thoughts engage-
She, for her honour, does her lord avow,
But my obedience fills dishonour's page.
Alas, I am not BothwelPs wife — yet she
By that sad right shall not precede in love ;
Her constancy's her interest ! as for me,
No sordid interest can my passion move.
To be the mistress of yourself and wealth,
Is no small honour to her, so possest ;
While blame is mine, for loving you by stealth,
I'm not less true in loving, though unblest !
She has no fears, no bodings of the woes
May happen Bothwell, whilst my breast is torn —
I fear for all that may occur — repose
Oft flies my pillow from the night till morn.
Blest in your friendship by her willing friends,
Against their wills do my affections flow !
You doubt my faith, and hence my spirit bends,
Whilst well assured her faithfulness you know !
By you, my heart, ah, she has now restored
Her house to honour, and to lasting fame ;
By you, in greatness, she is now adored,
To which her friends had never any claim.
60 LOVE LETTERS OF
Quant vous l'aimiez, elle usoit de froideur,
Si vous souffriez pour s'amour passion,
Qui vient d'aimer de trop d' affection :
Son doight monstroit la tristesse du coeur.
N'aiant plaisir en vostre gTand ardeur,
En ses habits monstroit sans fiction,
Qu' elle n'avoit paour, qu' imperfection
Peust l'effacer hors de ce loyal coeur.
De vostre mort je ne vis la peaur,
Que meritoit tel mary et seigneur.
Somme, de vous elle a eu tout son bien ;
Et n'a pris6, n'y jamais estime,
Une si grand heur, sinon puis qu'il n'est sien ;
Et maintenant dit l'avoir tant aime.
Et maintenant elle commence a voir,
Qu'elle estoit bien demauvaisjugement,
De n'estimer l'amour d'un tel amant ;
Et voudroit bien mon amy decevoir
Par les escrits tous fardez de scavoir
Qui pourtant n'est en son esprit croissant,
Ains emprunte de quelque auteur luisant,
A faint tres-bien un envoy sans l'avoir.
Et toutesfois ses paroles fardeez,
Ses pleurs, ses plaincts, remplis de fictions,
Et ses hautz cris, et lamentations,
On tant gaigne, que par vous sont gardeez
Ses lettres escrites ; ausquels vous donnez foy,
Et si l'aimez, et croiez plus que moy.
Vous la croyez, las ! trop je Pappercoy,
Et vous doutez de ma ferme Constance,
O mon seul bien, et ma seule esperance,
Et ne vous puis asseurer de ma foy.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 61
From you, my wealth, her happiness she draws,
Acquaintance first, then conqueror of your heart,
For all her wealth and pleasure — you the cause —
She made no sacrifice, she felt no smart !
For 'tis no sacrifice to lose a fool —
Such as she dearly loved, ere you appeared ;
Unpleasant he — brought up in Folly's school ;
Hence what enjoyment had such lout endeared !
But I mourn not, though she may ardent love
The source of all my hope, my love, my joy !
Second to none in manhood will he prove !
Nor yet in beauty, truth, nor constancy !
Such is my faith — in such my hopes feel rest ;
With coldness Lady Both well met your love !
If passion then you suffer — that confest,
Is love and confidence that nought may move.
Her doubting shows the picture of her heart,
Nor in your ardent love she pleasure knows ;
Her manner shows her fear shall not impart,
Nor imperfections spoil your love's repose !
When dangers circumvolved my Both well round,
Where were her fears ? — I saw them not in place-
She show'd no symptoms of that grief profound,
Which speak the fond and feeling wife's best grace.
Yours is her wealth, and all she can esteem ;
But she had not the sense to weigh its worth ;
On happiness so pure she ne'er could dream,
Till now, not hers, she owns you best on earth.
And now her erring judgment she can see,
That such a lover's love she should possess,
And well she may dissemble courteously,
By soft accomplishments and sweet address!
62 LOVE LETTERS OF
Vous m'estimez legiere,qui je voy,
Et si n'avez en moy nulle asseurance,
Et soupconnez mon coeur sans apparency
Vous meffiant a trop grand tort de moy.
Vous ignorez l'amour que je vous porte,
Vous soupconnez qu' autre amour me transporte.
Vous estimez des paroles du vent,
Vous despeignez de cire mon las coeur,
Vous me pensez femme sans jugement ;
Et tout cela augmente mon ardeur.
Mon amour croist, et plus en plus croistra,
Tant que vivray ; et tiendray a grand heur,
Tant seulement d'avoir part en ce coeur ;
Vers qui enfin mon amour paroistra
Si tres-clair, que jamais n'en doutera.
[Pour luy je veux tacher contre malheur],
Pour luy je veux rechercher la grandeur ;
Et feray tant, que de vray congnoistra.
Que je n'ay bien, heur, ne contentement,
Qu'a Tobeyir et servir loyaument.
Pour luy j'attendz toute bonne fortune,
Pour luy je veux garder sante et vie,
Pour luy tout vertu de suivre j'ay envie,
Et sans chancer me trouvera tout' une.
l c'
Pour luy aussi 3'ay jette mainte larme,
Premier qu'il fust de ce corps possesseur,
Duquel alors il n'avoit pas de coeur ;
Puis me donna un autre dur alarme,
Quand il versa de son sang mainte dragme ;
Dont de grief me vint laisser douleur,
Qui m'en pensa oster la vie, et frayeur
De perdre las ! le seul rampart qui m'arme.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 63
By writing's elegant, that paint the soul,
And learning", not her own, acquired by time —
From authors who have run to glory's g-oal —
With not one sentence of her own sublime.
But oh, I mourn her painted words and tears,
Her plaints dissembling-, and her feeling- sig"hs,
Have won your heart, hence thrilPd my chord of fears ;
And, now I seem a true love's sacrifice !
For her accomplishments, and writing's clear,
Which you approve, ah, more than all I say,
Or now can write, you love your lady dear,
And hold in doubt my stedfast constancy.
But oh, mine only wealth, and hope that's mine !
Soul of my soul, that will not mind my love,
I know that you esteem me frail, nor find
The plan that would your weak suspicion move.
Ah, did you know the love I bear my dear,
Whilst you think other love transporteth me,
And deem my words but wind, and heart of fear,
Like wax, that melteth, and my heart is free.
You think me without judgment, and my pain
Is hence increased, and love burns forth anew,
Increasing", still increasing-, thoug-h in vain,
For Bothwell still, my dearest lord, for you.
Oh, to possess one portion of your heart,
To which at length my love shall yet appear
So purely, that thy doubts shall act the part
Of kind interpreters of love so clear.
A world in arms I'd combat for my love,
For him all princely greatness I'd resig-n ;
And prove content, nor happiness shall move
The soft affections of my fervent mind.
64 LOVE LETTERS OF
Pour luy depuis j'ay mepris6 l'honneur,
Ce qui nous peult seul pourvoir de bonheur.
Pour luy j'ay hazarde grandeur et conscience,
Pour luy tous mes parens j'ay quitte et amis,
Et tous autres respectz sont a part mis ;
Brief, de vous seul je cherche l'alliance.
De vous je dis seul soustein de ma vie
Tant seulement je cerche m' asseurer,
Et si ose de moy tant presumer
De vous gaigner maugre toute Fenvie.
Car c'est le seul desir de vostre chere amie,
De vous servir et loyaument aymer,
Et tous malheurs moins qui rien estimer,
Et vostre volonte de la mien ne sujure,
Vous cog-nostrez avecques obeyssance
De mon loyal devoir ri omittant lascience
A quoy je estudieray pour tousiours vous complaire
Sans aymer rien que vous, soubz la subjection.
De qui je veux sans nulle fiction
Vivre et mourir et a ce j'obtempere.
Mon coeur, mon sang, mon ame, et mon soucy
Las, vous m'avez promis qu'aurons ce plaisir
De deviser avecques vous a, loysir,
Toute la nuict, ou je lang-uis jey,
Ayant le coeur d'extreme paour transy,
Pour voir absent le but de mon desir
Crainte d'oublier un coup me vient a saisir :
Et l'autre fois je crains que rendurcie
Soit contre moy voystre amiable cceur
Par quelque dit d'un meschant ramporteur.
Un autre fois je crains quelque aventure
Qui par chemin detou ne mon amant,
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 65
Him to obey and serve, I will attend,
And seize good fortune, and preserve my life ;
Courage I claim, and faith shall stand my friend,
For oh, I sigh to be my BothwelFs wife !
When first this person he possess'd, my tears
FlowM forth on cheeks now pale and wan with care,
Nor did he then possess my heart — my fears
Had told him love did not his passion share.
Then when the villain drew my BothwelFs blood,
What were my thoughts — my feelings, what were they ?
I felt as if my breast had lost the flood
That nurtures life — and in the grave I lay !
For him even honours since I have despised,
The source, His said, whence springs felicity !
Friends in the wreck, and greatness were comprised,
And love renounced their dear society.
Hence, soon I'll claim the hand of you, my friend !
Of you, my love, upholder of my life !
Assure me of your faith, and then I bend
Before you, conscious I shall be your wife !
To serve and love you truly is my aim ;
All my aspirings are to you confin'd ;
I deem misfortunes but an empty name,
And meet your will with all a lover's mind !
Nor once omit my duty, which shall still
Be my fond study, how I most may please,
In love for Bothwell I shall form my will,
Till death itself shall bid affections cease.
My heart, my blood, my soul, my care, and all
I own, and all I claim as mine, content
I render to him, and shall wait his call,
To yield those blessings which kind Heaven has lent !
K
'
66 LOVE LETTERS OF
Par un fascheux et nouveau accident.
Dieu detourne toute malheureux augure.
Ne vous voyant selon qu' avez promis
J* ay mis la main au papier our escrire
D' un different que je voulu transcrire.
Je ne scay pas quel sera vestre advis
Mais je scay bien qui mieux aymer scaura,
Vous diriez bien que plus y gaignera.
Of Mary's poetry it has been said : —
" Elle composoit de vers, dont j'en ay veu aucun de
beaux et tres bien faits, et nullement resemblant a ceux
qu'on lui a mis sus avoir fait sur Pamour du Comte de Both-
uel. lis son trop grossiers et mal polis pour etre sortis d'ele."
Brantomt, vol. L
That the reader may judge for himself on a comparison^
we give from Brantome the following stanzas of an Elegy,
made by Queen Mary on the death of her husband, King
Francis II.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS 67
Alas I you pleasure promised me, your slave,
And said our leisure hours we should enjoy ;
Oh, hasten then, and precious moments save,
For all night long I languish, sob, and sigh !
Fear whelms my heart, and absence cools desire,
I sometimes think you have forgotten me ;
At other times, I fear your love — on fire —
Has other causes for its sympathy.
4
Perhaps some slanderer, worthy of the name,
Has cleared the way to coldness and neglect,
Or some adventure, yet unknown to fame,
Has check'd your ardour, and my love thrown back.
Oh, God, prevent the bodings of my mind—
You promised I should see you, but forgot —
Hence do I scrawl — with tears mine eyes are blind,
I cannot copy, and I must not blot.
Nor can I tell what shall your judgment be ;
But well I know who most does dearly love !
And you can tell who most shall win — not me —
Then come, my soul, my life, my lover— prove..
68 LOVE LETTERS OF
STANZAS,
BY MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, ON THE DEATH OF HER
HUSBAND, KING FRANCIS II.
Ce que m'estoit plaisant
Ores rrr'est peine dure,
Le jour le plus luisant
JVFest nuit noire et obscure,
Et n'est rien si exquis
Qui de moy foit requis.
Pour mon mal estranger
Je ne m'arreste en place,
Mais j'en ay beau chang-er
Si ma douleur n'efface,
Car mon pis, et mon mieux,
Sont les plus deserts lieux.
Si en quelque sejour
Soit en bois, ou en pree,
Soit vers l'aube de jour
Ou soit sur la vespree,
Sans cesse mon cosur sent
Le regret dun absent.
Si par fois vers les cieux
Viens adresser ma vue,
Le doux trait de ses yeux
Je vois en une nue,
Soudain le voys en Feau
Comme dans tombeau*.
* In illustration of this stanza, it may be proper to observe, that in
Queen Mary's time, and at this day, embellished fountains and canals
were the chief ornaments of gardens in France. Every palace was
ornamented with a piece of water. — Lord Elibank.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 69
THE STANZAS TRANSLATED.
What formerly was pleasant to my eyes
Now gives me pain.
The brightest day,
To me, seems dark and obscure night.
For the most exquisite delights
I now have neither relish or desire.
As a relief for my singular misfortune
I wander from place to place ;
But 'tis in vain to think of change,
Which effaces not my grief;
For scenes which formerly gave me delight
Are now become frightful solitudes to me.
If in some solitary retreat
Amidst the wood, or in the plain ;
Whether in the morning's dawn,
Or in the evening's shade>
Without ceasing,
Still my heart feels its irreparable loss.
If I lift my eyes to heaven,
I figure to myself his sweet features
In the clouds ;
Soon casting my eyes
On the wat'ry scene below,
I see him, as in his grave.
70 LOVE LETTERS OF
Si je suis en repos
Sommeillant sur ma couche
J'oy qui me tient propos
Je le sens qui me touche,
En labeur en recoy
Toujours est pres demoy.
Mets chanson ici fin,
A si triste complainte,
Dont sera le refrin,
t Amour vraye, et non feinte,
' Pour la separation
' N'aura diminution/
r Lord Hailes seems to have a mean opinion of Queen Ma-
ry's poetry. He quotes the fourth stanza with this remark : —
" This I suppose is what Brantome reckoned beau et gentil"
And on the last stanza he remarks, " This may serve to
show what sort of poetry it was which Mary indeed wrote/'
I am loth to dissent from the opinion of so able a critic.
But in a matter of mere taste, of which I know no fixed
standard, every one is at liberty to judge of what pleases
himself. In my humble opinion, the poem taken altogether
is a fine composition. Ronsard, one of the first poets of
that age, thought it so. The thoughts are natural, and
simple, well conducted, and elegantly expressed. The
fourth stanza appears to me, particularly, to be beautiful
and poetical.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 71
When I lay myself to rest,
If slumbering- on my couch,
I think I hear his sweet voice
In conversation with me,
I dream as if I felt him by my side.
Restless, or at ease,
He still is present with me.
Here let me put an end
To my sad complaint,
Of which the theme shall be,
' Sincere and unfeigned love
' Shall never by separation
' Suffer any diminution."
72 LOVE LETTERS OF
TRANSLATION OF QUEEN MARY'S ELEGY ON THE
DEATH OF HER HUSBAND, KING FRANCIS II.
BY MR. PYE, MEMBER OF PARLIAM EXT FOR BERKS.
In melting strains that sweetly flow,
Tun'd to the plaintive notes of woe,
My eyes survey, with anguish fraught,
A loss beyond the reach of thought,
While pass away life's fairest years
In heaving sighs and mournful tears.
Did cruel destiny e'er shed
Such horror on a wretched head?
Did e'er once happy woman know
So sad a scene of heartfelt woe ?
For ah ! behold on yonder bier
All that my heart and eyes held dear !
Alas ! even in my blooming hours,
'Mid opening youth's resplendent flowers,
I'm doom'd each cruel pang to share,
Th' extremest sorrows of despair,
Nor other joy nor bliss can prove
Than grief, and disappointed love.
The sweet delights of happier days
New anguish in my bosom raise ;
Of shining day the purest light
To me is drear and gloomy night ;
Nor is there aught so good and fair
As now to claim my slightest care.
In my full heart and streaming eyes,
Pourtray'd by woe, an image lies,
Which sable robes but faintly speak,
Or the pale languor of my cheek,
Pale as the violet's faded leaf,
The tint of love's despairing grief.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 73
Perplex'd by this unwonted pain,
No place my steps can long detain ;
Yet change of scene no comfort gives,
Where sorrow's form for ever lives ;
My worst, my happiest, state of mind
In solitude alone I find.
If chance my listless footsteps leads
Through shady groves, or flowery meads,
Whether at dawn of rising day,
Or silent evening's setting ray,
Each grief that absence can impart
Incessant rends my tortured heart.
If to the Heavens, in rapt'rous trance,
I hap'ly throw a wistful glance,
His visionary form I see,
Pictur'd in orient clouds to me ;
Sudden it flies, and he appears
Drown'd in a wat'ry tomb of tears.
74 LOVE LETTERS OF
THE FIRST CONTRACT PRODUCED BY JAMES STEWART
EARL OF MURRAY, AT LONDON. — FROM THE
COTTON LIBRARY.
Nous Marie, par la grace de Dieu, Royne d'Escosse, doua-
ryere de France, &c. promettons fidellement, et de bonne
foy, et sans contraynte, a. Jaques Hepburn Conte de Boduel,
de n'avoir jamays autre espoulx et mary que luy, et de le
prendre pour tel toute et quant fois qu'il m'en requerira, quoy
que parents, amys ou autres, y soient contrayres. Et puis
que Dieu a pris mon feu mary Henry Stuart dit Darnlay, et
que par ce moin je sois libre, n'estant soubs obei'ssance de
pere, ni de mere, des mayntenant je proteste que, lui estant
en mesme libert6, je seray preste, et d'accomplir les cere-
monies requises au manage : que je lui promets devantDieu,
que j'en prantz a tesmoignasge, et la presente, signee de
ma mayn : ecrit ce
Marie R.
There is also another writing in Scottish, avowed to be
wholly written by the Earl of Huntley, dated the fifth of
April, 1567, containing a form of contract of marriage be-
twixt the said Queen and Earl Bothwell, subscribed Mary,
which is avowed to be the proper hand of the said Queen ;
and underneath it, James Earl Bothwell, which also is
avowed to be the proper hand of the Earl Bothwell, at which
time he was commonly defamed of the King's slaughter,
and not cleansed or acquit thereof before the thirteenth of
April following. The tenor of which contract here
ensueth.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 75
THE SECOND CONTRACT.
At Seyton, the fifth day of April, in the year of God,
1567. The right excellent, right high and mighty Prin-
cess Mary, by the grace of God Queen of Scots, consider-
ing the place and estate wherein Almighty God hath con-
stituted her Highness, and how by the decease of the King
her husband, her Majesty is now destitute of a hus-
band, living solitary in the state of widowhood. In the
which kind of life her Majesty most willingly would
continue, if the will of her realm and subjects would
permit it. But on the other part, considering the in
conveniencies may follow, and the necessity which the
Realm hath, that her Majesty be coupled with an
husband, her highness hath an inclination to marry.
And seeing what incommodity may come to this Realm,
in case her Majesty should join in marriage with any fo-
reign Prince of a strange nation, her Highness has thought
rather to yield unto one of her own subjects. Amongst
whom, her Majesty finds none more able, nor endued
with better qualities, than the right noble, and her dear
cousin James, Earl Bothwell, &c. Of whose thankful and
true service, her Highness in all the times by-past has had
large proof, and infallible experience. And seeing not only
the same good mind constantly persevering in him, but with
that an inward affection, and hearty love towards her Ma-
jesty, her highness amongst the rest, hath made her choice
of him.
And therefore, in the presence of the eternal God, faith-
fully, and in the word of a Puince, by these presents takes
the said James Earl Bothwell as her lawful husband. And
promises and obliges her Highness, that as soon as the pro-
cess of divorce intended betwixt the said Earl Bothwell and
Dame Jane Gordon, now his pretended spouse, be ended
by the order of the laws, her Majesty shall, God willing,
thereafter shortly marry, and take the said Earl to her hus-
76 LOVE LETTERS OF
band, and compleat the band of matrimony with him in the
face of Holy Church. And shall never marry any other
husband but him only during his life-time. And as her
Majesty of her gracious humanity, and proper motive, with-
out deserving of the said Earl, hath thus inclined her fa-
vour and affection towards him, he humbly and reverently
acknowledging the same, according to his bounden duty,
and being as free and able to make promise of marriage, in
respect of the said process of divorce intended for divers rea-
sonable causes, and that the said pretended spouse hath
thereunto consented, he presently takes her Majesty as his
lawful spouse, in the presence of God. And promises and
obligeth him, as he will answer to God, and upon his fide-
lity and honour, that in all diligence possible, he shall pro-
secute and set forward the said process of divorce already
began and intended betwixt him and the said Dame Jane
Gordon his pretended spouse, unto the final end of a de-
cree and declaration therein.
And incontinent thereafter, at her Majesties good will
and pleasure, and when her Highness thinks convenient
shall compleat and solemnise in face of holy church, the
said band of matrimony with her Majesty, and love, ho-
nour, and serve her Highness, according to the place and
honour that it have pleased her Majesty to accept him unto,
and never to have any other to his wife during her Majesty's
life time. In faith and witnessing whereof, her Highness
and the said Earl hath subscribed this present faithful pro-
mise, with their hands, as folio weth, day, year, and place
aforesaid, before these witnesses ; George Earl Huntly, and
Master Thomas Hepburn, Parson of Old Hanstock, &c.
Sic subscribitur , Mary R.
James Earl Bothwell.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 77
Here note, that this contract was made the 5th of April,
within eight weeks after the murder of the King-, which
was slain the 10th of February before. Also it was made
seven days before that Bothwell was acquitted by corrupt
judgment of the said murder.
Also it appeareth by the words of the contract itself, that
it was made before sentence of divorce between Bothwell
and his former wife : And also, in very truth, was made be-
fore any suit of divorce intended or begrin between him and
his former wife, though some words in this contract seem to
say otherwise. Which is thus proved. For this contract
is dated the 5th of April ; and it plainly appeareth by the
judicial acts before the two several ecclesiastical ordinary
judg-es, wherein is contained the whole process of the di-
vorce between the said Earl and Dame Jane Gordon his
wife, that one of the same processes was intended and begun
on the 26th and the other on the 27th day of April,
78 LOVE LETTERS OF
NOTE.
I think it necessary, in order to make this volume a com-
plete history of the origin of the Scottish Queen's mis-
fortunes, to give the accurate and indisputable account of
Hume, as an opening- to the case, before I cite the opinion of
Buchannan and the other advocates for and against her cri-
minality and participation in the murder of her husband.
With that able historian I shall also close the inquiry on
the letters.
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
MURDER OF DARNLEY.
#
The Earl of Bothwell was of a considerable family and
power in Scotland ; and though not distinguished by any
talents either of a civil or military nature, he had made a
figure in that party, which opposed the greatness of the
Earl rf Murray, and the more rigid reformers. He was a
man of pr ofligate manners ; had involved his opulent for-
tune in great debts, and even reduced himself to beggary
by his profuse expenses ; and seemed to have no resource
but in desperate councils and enterprises. He had been ac-
cused more than once of an attempt to assassinate Murray .
and though the frequency of these accusations on all sides
di minish somewhat the credit due to any particular imputa-
tion, they prove sufficiently the prevalence of that detesta-
ble practice in Scotland, and may in that view serve to ren-
der such rumours the more credible.
This man had of late acquired the favour and entire confi-
dence of Mary ; and all her measures were directed by his
advice and authority. Reports were spread of more parti-
cular intimacies between them ; and these reports gained
ground from the continuance or rather increase of her
hatred towards her husband. That young prince was re-
duced to such a state of desperation, by the neglects which
he underwent from his Queen and the courtiers, that he had
once resolved to fly secretly into France or Spain, and had
even provided a vessel for that purpose.
Some of the most considerable nobility, on the other
hand, observing her rooted aversion to him, had proposed
some expedients for a divorce ; and though Mary is said to
have spoken honourably on the occasion, and to have em-
braced the proposal no farther than it should be found con-
sistent with her own honour and her son's legitimacy, men
were inclined to believe that the difficulty of finding proper
means for effecting that purpose, was the real cause of lay-
80 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
ing aside all farther thoughts of it. So far were the suspi-
cions against her carried, that when Henry, discouraged
with the continual proofs of her hatred, left the court, and
retired to Glasgow, an illness of an extraordinary nature,
with which he was seized immediately on his arrival in that
place, was universally ascribed by her enemies to a dose o f
poison, which, it was pretended, she had administered to
him.
While affairs were in this situation, all those who wished
well to her character, or to public tranquillity, were extreme-
ly pleased, and somewhat surprised, to hear, that a friendship
was again conciliated between them ; that she had taken a
journey to Glasgow on purpose to visit him during his sick-
ness ; that she behaved toward him with great tenderness ;
that she had brought him along with her ; and that she
appeared thenceforth determined to live with him on a
footing more suitable to the connections between them.
Henry, naturally uxorious, and not distrusting this sudden
reconciliation, put himself implicitly into her hands, and
attended her to Edinburgh.
She lived in the palace of Holyrood House ; but as the
situation of the place was low, and the concourse of peo-
ple about the court was necessarily attended with noise,
which might disturb him in his present infirm state of health,
these reasons were assigned for fitting up an apartment for
him in a solitary house, at some distance, called the Kirk
of Field.
Mary here gave him marks of kindness and attachment ;
she conversed cordially with him ; and she lay some nights
in a room below his ; but on the ninth of February, she told
him, that she would pass that night in the palace, because
the marriage of one of her servants was there to be cele-
brated in her presence. About two o'clock in the morning
the whole town was much alarmed at hearing a great noise ;
and was still more astonished, when it was discovered that
the noise came from the King's house, which was blown up
hume] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 81
by gunpowder ; that his dead body was found at some dis-
tance in a neighbouring- field; and that no marks either of
fire, contusion, or violence, appeared upon it.
No doubt could be entertained but Henry was murdered ;
and general conjecture soon pointed towards the Earl of
Both well as the author of the crime. But as his favour with
Mary was visible, and his power great, no one ventured to
declare openly his sentiments; and all men remained in
silence and mute astonishment. Voices, however, were
heard in the streets, during the darkness of the night, pro-
claiming Bothwell, and even Mary herself, to be the mur-
derers of the King ; bills were secretly affixed on the walls
to the same purpose ; offers were made, that, upon giving
proper securities, his guilt should be openly proved. But
after one proclamation from the court, offering a reward
and indemnity to any one that would discover the author of
that villainy, greater vigilance was employed in searching
out the spreaders of the libels and reports against Bothwell
and the Queen, than in tracing the contrivers of the King's
assassination, or detecting the regicides.
The Earl of Lenox, who lived at a distance from court,
in poverty and contempt, was roused by the report of his
son's murder, and wrote to the Queen, imploring speedy
justice against the assassins ; among whom he named the
Earl of Bothwell, Sir James Balfour, and Gilbert Balfour,
his brother, David Chalmers, and four others of the Queen's
household ; ail of them persons who had been mentioned
in the bills affixed to the walls at Edinburgh. Mary took
his demand of speedy justice in a very literal sense ; and
allowing only fifteen days for the examination of this im-
portant affair, she sent a citation to Lenox, requiring him
to appear in court, and prove his charge against Bothwell.
This nobleman, meanwhile, and all the other persons ac-
cused by Lenox, enjoyed their full liberty ; Bothwell him-
self was continually surrounded with armed men ; took his
place in council ; lived during some time in the house with
M
82 LOVE LETTERS OF [htjme.
Mary ; and seemed to possess all his wonted confidence and
familiarity with her. Even the castle of Edinburgh, a
place of great consequence in this critical time, was intrust-
ed to him, and under him, to his creature, Sir James Bal-
four, who had himself been publicly charged as an accom-
plice in the King's murder. Lenox, who had come as far
as Stirling, with a view of appearing at the trial, was in-
formed of all these circumstances ; and reflecting on the
small train which attended him, he began to entertain very
just apprehensions from the power, insolence, and temerity
of his enemy. He wrote to Mary, desiring that the day of
trial might be prorogued : and conjured her, by all the re-
gard which she bore to her own honour, to employ more
leisure and deliberation in determining a question of such
extreme moment. No regard was paid to his application :
the jury was enclosed, of which the Earl of Caithness was
chancellor ; and though Lenox, foreseeing this precipita-
tion, had ordered Cunningham, one of his retinue, to ap-
pear in court, and protest, in his name, against the acquittal
of the criminal, the jury proceeded to a verdict. The ver-
dict was such as it behoved them to give, where neither
accuser nor witness appeared ; and Bothwell was absolved
from the King's murder (April 12). The jury, however,
apprehensive that their verdict would give great scandal,
and perhaps expose them afterward to some danger, entered
a protest, in which they represented the necessity of their
proceedings. It is remarkable, that the indictment was
laid against Bothwell for committing the crime on the 9th of
February, not the 10th, the real day on which Henry was
assassinated. The interpretation generally put upon this
error, too gross it was thought to have proceeded from
mistake, was, that the secret council, by whom Mary was
governed, not trusting entirely to precipitation, violence,
and authority, had provided this plea, by which they en-
sured, at all adventures, a plausible pretence for acquitting
Bothwell.
HfcMS.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 83
Two days after this extraordinary transaction, a parlia-
ment was held : and though the verdict in favour of Both-
well was attended withsuch circumstances as strongly con-
firmed, rather than diminished, the general opinion of his
guilt, he was the person chosen to carry the royal sceptre
on the first meeting of the national assembly. In this par-
liament, a rigorous act was made against those who set up
defamatory bills ; but no notice was taken of the King's
murder.
The favour which Mary openly bore to Bothwell kept
every one in awe ; and the effects of this terror appeared
more plainly in another transaction, which ensued imme-
diately upon the dissolution of the parliament. A bond or
association was framed ; in which the subscribers, after re-
lating the acquittal of Bothwell by a legal trial, and men-
tioning a farther Offer which he had made to prove his inno-
cence by single combat, obliged themselves, in case any
person should afterward impute to him the King's murder,
to defend him with their whole power against such calum-
niators. After this promise, which implied no great as-
surance in Bothwell of his own innocence, the subscribers
mentioned the necessity of their Queen's marriage, in order
to support the government ; and they recommended Both-
well to her as a husband. This paper was subscribed
(April 14) by all the considerable nobility there present.
In a country divided by violent 'factions, such a concurrence
in favour of one nobleman, nowise distinguished above the
rest, except by his flagitious conduct, could never have been
obtained, had not every one been certain, at least firmly
persuaded, that Mary was fully determined on this mea-
sure. Nor would such a motive have sufficed to influence
men,commonly so stubborn and intractable, had they not been
taken by surprise, been ignorant of each other's sentiments,
and overawed by the present power of the court, and by the
apprehensions of farther violence, from persons so little
governed by any principles of honour and humanity. Even
84 LOVE LETTERS OF [hums.
with all these circumstances, the subscription to this paper
may justly be regarded as a reproach to the nation.
The subsequent measures of Bothwell were equally preci-
pitate and audacious. Mary having gone to Stirling to pay
a visit to her son, he assembled a body of eight hundred
horse, on pretence of pursuing some robbers on the bor-
ders, and having waylaid her on her return, he seized her per-
son near Edinburgh (April 24), and carried her to Dunbar,
with an avowed design of forcing her to yield to his pur-
pose. Sir James Melvil, one of her retinue, was carried
along with her, and says not that he saw any signs of re-
luctance or constraint \ he was even informed, as he tells
us, by BothwelPs officers, that the whole transaction was
managed in concert with her. A woman, indeed, of that
spirit and resolution which is acknowledged to belong to
Mary, does not usually, on these occasions, give such marks
of opposition to real violence, as can appear anywise
doubtful or ambiguous. Some of the nobility, however, in
order to put matters to further trial, sent her a private mes-
sage ; in which they told her, that if, in reality, she lay
under force, they would use all their efforts to rescue her.
Her answer was, that she had indeed been carried to Dun-
bar by violence, but ever since her arrival had been so well
treated, that she willingly remained with Bothwell. No
one gave himself thenceforth any concern to relieve her
from her captivity, which was believed to proceed entirely
from her own approbation and connivance.
This unusual conduct was at first ascribed to Mary's sense
of the infamy attending her proposed marriage ; and her
desire of finding some colour to gloss over the irregularity
of her conduct. But a pardon givon to Bothwell a few days
after, made the public carry their conjectures somewhat far-
ther. In this deed, Bothwell received a pardon for the vio-
lence committed on the queen's person ; and for all other
crimes ; a clause, by which the murder of the King was in-
directly forgiven, The rape was then conjectured to have
Hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 85
been only a contrivance, in order to afford a pretence for in-
directly remitting' a crime, of which it would have appeared
scandalous to make openly any mention.
These events passed with such rapidity, that men had no
leisure to admire sufficiently One incident, when they were
surprised with a new one equally rare and uncommon.
There still, however, remained one difficulty, which it was
not easy to foresee how the Queen and Bothwell, deter-
mined as they were to execute their shameful purpose, could
find expedients to overcome. The man who had procured
the subscription of the nobility, recommending- him as a
husband to the Queen, and who had acted this seeming vio-
lence on her person in order to force her consent, had been
married two years before to another woman ; to a woman
of merit, of a noble family, sister to the Earl of Huntley.
But persons blinded by passion, and infatuated with crimes,
soon shake off all appearances of decency. A suit was com-
menced for a divorce between Bothwell and his wife ; and
this suit was opened at the same instant in two different, or
rather opposite, courts : in the court of the Archbishop of
St. Andrew's, which was Popish, and governed itself
by the canon law ; and in the new consistorial or commis-
sariat court, which was Protestant, and was regulated by
the principles of the reformed teachers. The plea advanced
in each court was so calculated as to suit the principles
which there prevailed : in the Archbishop's court, the pre-
tence of consanguinity was employed, because Bothwell
was related to his wife in the fourth degree ; in the com-
missariat court, the accusation of adultery was made use of
against him. The parties, too, who applied for the di-
vorce, were different in the different courts : Bothwell was
the person who sued in the former ; his wife in the latter.
And the suit to both courts was opened, pleaded, examined,
and decided, with the utmost precipitation ; and a sentence
of divorce was pronounced in four days.
m LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
The divorce being- thus obtained, it was thought proper
that Mary should be conducted to Edinburgh, and should
there appear before the courts of judicature, and should ac-
knowledge herself restored to entire freedom. This was
understood to be contrived in a view of obviating all doubts
with regard to the validity of her marriage. Orders were
then given to publish in the church the banns between the
Queen and the Duke of Orkney ; for that was the title
which he now bore ; and Craig, a minister of Edinburgh,
was applied to for that purpose. This clergyman, not con-
tent with having refused compliance, publicly in his ser-
mons condemned the marriage, and exhorted 'all who had
access to the Queen, to give her their advice against so
scandalous an alliance. Being called before the council to
answer for this liberty, he shewed a courage which might
cover all the nobles with shame on account of their tameness
and servility. He said that, by the rules of the church, the
Earl of Bothwell, being convicted of adultery, could not be
permitted to marry ; that the divorce between him and his
former wife was plainly procured by collusion, as appeared
by the precipitation of the sentence, and the sudden con-
clusion of the marriage with the Queen ; and that all the
suspicions which prevailed, with regard to the King's mur-
der, and the Queen's concurrence in the former rape, would
thence receive undoubted confirmation. He therefore ex-
horted Bothwell, who was present, no longer ".to persevere
in his present criminal enterprises ; and turning his dis-
course to the other counsellors, he charged them to employ
all their influence with the Queen, in order to divert her
from a measure which would load her with eternal infamy
and dishonour. Not satisfied even with this admonition, he
took the first opportunity of informing the public, from the
pulpit, of the whole transaction, and expressed to them his
fears, that notwithstanding all remonstrances, their sove-
reign was still obstinately bent on her fatal purpose : "For
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, 87
himself (he said), he had already discharged his conscience,
and yet again would take heaven and earth to witness, that
he abhorred and detested that marriage, as scandalous and
hateful in the sight of mankind ; but since the great, as he
perceived, either by their flattery or silence, gave counte-
nance to the measure, he besought the faithful to pray fer-
vently to the Almighty, that a resolution, taken contrary
to all law, reason, and good conscience, might, by the di-
vine blessing, be turned to the comfort and benefit of the
church and kingdom/' These speeches offended the court
extremely; and Craig was anew summoned before the
council, to answer for his temerity in thus passing the
bounds of his commission. But he told them that the
bounds of his commission were, the word of God, good
laws, and natural reason ; and were the Queen's marriage
tried by any of these standards, it would appear infamous
and dishonourable, and would be so esteemed by the whole
world. The council were so overawed by this heroic be-
haviour in a private clergyman, that they dismissed him
without farther censure or punishment.
But though this transaction might have recalled Bothwell
and the Queen of Scots from their infatuation, and might
have instructed them in the dispositions of the people, as
well as in their own inability to oppose them ; they were
still resolute to rush forward to their own manifest destruc-
tion. The marriage was solemnized by the bishop of Ork-
ney (May 15), a Protestant, who was afterward deposed
by the church for this scandalous compliance. Few of the
nobility appeared at the ceremony ; they had most of them,
either from shame or fear, retired to their own houses. The
French ambassador, Le Croc, an aged gentleman of honour
and character, could not be prevailed on, though a depen-
dant of the house of Guise, to countenance the marriage by
his presence. Elizabeth remonstrated, by friendly letters
and messages, against the marriage : the court of France
made like opposition ; but Mary, though on all other occa-
88 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
sions she was extremely obsequious to the advice of her re-
lations in that country, was here determined to pay no re-
gard to their opinion.
The news of these transactions being carried to foreign
countries, filled Europe with amazement, and threw infa-
my not only on the principal actors in them, but also on
the whole nation, who seemed by their submission and
silence, and even by their declared approbation, to give
their sanction to these scandalous practices. The Scots,
who resided abroad, met with such reproaches, that they
durst no where appear in public; and they earnestly ex-
horted their countrymen at home to free them from the
public odium, by bringing to condign punishment the au-
thors of such atrocious crimes. This intelligence, with a
little more leisure for reflection, roused men from their
lethargy ; and the rumours which, from the very begin-
ning, had been spread against Mary, as if she had con-
curred in the king's murder, seemed now, by the subse-
quent transactions, to have received a strong confirmation
and authority.
It was every where said, that even though no particular
and direct proofs had as yet been pronounced of the Queen's
guilt, the whole tenor of her late conduct was sufficient,
not only to beget suspicion, but to produce entire convic-
tion against her : that her sudden resolution of being recon-
ciled to her husband, whom before she had long and justly
hated ; her bringing him to court, from which she had ba-
nished him by neglects and rigours ; her fitting up separate
apartments for him ; were all of them circumstances which,
though trivial in themselves, yet being compared with the
subsequent events, bore a very unfavourable aspect for her :
that the least which, after the king's murder, might have
been expected in her situation, was a more than usual cau-
tion in her measures, and an extreme anxiety to punish the
real assassins, in order to free herself from all reproach and
suspicion : that no woman, who had any regard to her cha-
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 89
racter, would allow a man, publicly accused of her hus-
band's murder, so much as to approach her presence, far
less give him a share in her councils, and endow him with
favour and authority : that an acquittal, merely in the ab-
sence of accusers, was very ill fitted to satisfy the public ;
especially if that absence proceeded from a designed pre-
cipitation of the sentence, from the terror of which her known
friendship for the criminal had infused into every one : that
the very mention of her marriage to such a person, in such
circumstances, was horrible ; and the contrivances of ex-
torting- a consent from the nobility, and of concerting" a rape,
were gross artifices, more proper to discover her guilt than
prove her innocence : that where a woman shews a con-
sciousness of merited reproach, and instead of correcting",
provides only thin glosses to cover her exceptionable con-
duct, she betrays a neglect of fame, which must either be
the effect or the cause of the most shameful enormities : that
to espouse a man, who had, a few days before, been so scan-
dalously divorced from his wife; who, to say the least,
was believed to have, a few months before, assassinated
her husband, was so contrary to the plainest rules of beha-
viour, that no pretence of indiscretion or imprudence could
account for such a conduct : that a woman, who, so soon
after her husband's death, thougli not attended with any ex-
traordinary circumstances, contracts a marriag-e, which
mig"ht in itself be the most blameless, cannot escape severe
censure ; but one who overlooks, for her pleasure, so many
other weig-hty considerations, was equally capable, in gra-
tifying- her appetites, to neglect every regard to honour and
to humanity : that Mary was not ignorant of the prevailing
opinion of the public, with regard to her own guilt, and of
the inferences which would every where be drawn from her
conduct ; and therefore, if she still continue to pursue
measures which gave such just offence, she ratified, by her
actions, as much as she could by the most formal confession,
all the surmises and imputations of her enemies : that a prince
N
90 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
was here murdered in the face of the world; Bothwell
alone was suspected and accused; if he were innocent*
nothing- could absolve him, either in Mary's eyes or those
of the public, but the detection and conviction of the real
assassin ; yet no inquiry was made to that purpose, though
a parliament had been assembled ; the sovereign and wife
were here plainly silent from guilt, the people from terror.
That the only circumstance which opposed all these pre-
sumptions, or rather proofs, was, the benignity and good-
ness of her preceding behaviour, which seemed to remove
her from all suspicions of such atrocious inhumanity ; but
that the characters of men were extremely variable, and
persons guilty of the worst actions were not always of the
worst and most criminal dispositions : that a woman who,
in a critical and dangerous moment, had sacrificed her ho-
nour to a man of abandoned principle, might thenceforth be
led blindfold by him to the commission of the most enor-
mous crimes, and was in reality no longer at her own dis-
posal ; and that, though one supposition was still left to
alleviate her blame, namely, that Bothwell, presuming on
her affection towards him, had of himself committed the
crime, and had never communicated it to her, yet such a
sudden and passionate love to a man, whom she had long
known, could not easily be accounted for, without sup-
posing some degree of preceding guilt; and as it appeared
that she was not afterward restrained, either by shame or
prudence, from incurring the highest reproach and danger,
it was not likely that a sense of duty or humanity would
have a more powerful influence over her.
These were the sentiments which prevailed throughout
Scotland ; and as the protestant teachers, who had great
authority, had long borne an animosity to Mary, the opinion
of her guilt was, by that means, the more widely diffused,
and made the deeper impression on the people. Some at-
tempts made by Bothwell, and, as is pretended, with her
consent, to get the young Prince into his power, excited
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 91
the most serious attention ; and the principal nobility, even
many of those who had formerly been constrained to sign
the application in favour of Bothwell's marriage, met at
Stirling", and formed an association for protecting the Prince,
and punishing the King's murderers.
The Earl of Athole himself, a known Catholic, was the
first author of this confederacy ; the Earls of Argyle, Mor-
ton, Marre, Glencairne, the Lords Boyd, Lindsey, Hume,
Semple, Kirkaldy of Grange, Tulibardine, and Secretary
Lidington, entered zealously into it. The Earl of Murray,
foreseeing such turbulent times, and being desirous to keep
free of these dangerous factions, had, some time before, de-
sired and obtained Mary's permission to retire into France.
Lord Hume was first in arms ; and, leading a body of
eight hundred horse, suddenly environed the Queen of Scots
and Both well in the castle of Borthwick. They found
means of making their escape to Dunbar ; while the confe-
derate Lords were assembling their troops at Edinburgh,
and taking measures to effect their purpose. Had Both-
well been so prudent as to keep within the fortress of
Dunbar, his enemies must have dispersed for want of pay
and subsistence ; but hearing that the associated Lords were
fallen into distress, he was so rash as to take the field (June
15), and advance towards them.
The armies met at Carberry-hill, about six miles from
Edinburgh ; and Mary soon became sensible that her own
troops disapproved of her cause, and were averse to spill
their blood in her quarrel. After some bravadoes of Both-
well, where he discovered very little courage, she saw no
resource but that of holding a conference with Kirkaldy of
Grange, and of putting herself, upon some general promises,
into the hands of the confederates. She was conducted to
Edinburgh, amidst the insults of the populace ; who re-
proached her with her crimes ; and even held before her
eyes, which way soever she turned, a banner, on which
were painted the murder of her husband, and the distress of
her infant son.
92 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
Mary, overwhelmed with her calamities, had recourse to
tears and lamentations. Meanwhile Bothwell, during her
conference with Grange, fled unattended to Dunbar ; and
fitting out a few small ships, set sail for the Orkneys, where
he subsisted during some time by piracy. He was pursued
thither by Grange, and his ship was taken, with several of
his servants, who afterward discovered all the circum-
stances of the King's murder, and were punished for the
crime. Bothwell himself escaped in a boat, and found
means to get a passage to Denmark, where he was thrown
into prison, lost his senses, and died miserably about ten
years after — an end worthy of his flagitious conduct and
behaviour.
The Queen of Scots, now in the hands of an enraged
faction, met with such treatment as a sovereign may na-
turally expect from subjects who have their future security
to provide for, as well as their present animosity to gratify.
It is pretended, that she behaved with a spirit very little
suitable to her condition, avowed her inviolable attachment
to Bothwell, and even wrote him a letter, which the Lords
intercepted, wherein she declared, that she would endure
any extremity, nay, resign her dignity and crown itself, ra-
ther than relinquish his affections. The malcontents, find-
ing the danger to which they were exposed, in case Mary
should finally prevail, thought themselves obliged to pro-
ceed with rigour against her ; and they sent her next day
under a guard to the castle of Lochlevin, situated in a lake
of that name. The mistress of the house was mother to the
Earl of Murray ; and as she pretended to have been law-
fully married to the late King of Scots, she naturally bore
an animosity to Mary, and treated her with the utmost
harshness and severity.
Elizabeth, who was fully informed of all these incidents,
seemed touched with compassion towards the unfortunate
queen; and all her fears and jealousies being now laid
asleep, by the consideration of that ruin and infamy in which
Mary's conduct had involved her, she began to reflect on
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 93
the instability of human affairs, the precarious state of royal
grandeur, the danger of encouraging rebellious subjects ;
and she resolved to employ her authority for alleviating the
calamities of her unhappy kinswoman. She sent Sir Ni-
cholas Throgmorton ambassador to Scotland, in order to
remonstrate both with Mary and the associated Lords ; and
she gave him instructions, which, though mixed with some
lofty pretensions, were full of that good sense which was
so natural to her, and of that generosity which the present
interesting conjuncture had called forth. She empowered
him to declare in her name to Mary, that the late conduct
of that princess, so enormous and in every respect so un-
justifiable, had given her the highest offence: and though
she felt the movements of pity towards her, she had once
determined never to interpose in her affairs, either by ad-
vice or assistance, but to abandon her entirely, as a person
whose condition was totally desperate, and honour irre-
trievable: that she was well assured that other foreign
princes, Mary's near relations, had embraced the same reso-
lution ; but for her part, the late events had touched her
heart with more tender sympathy, and had made her adopt
measures more favourable to the liberty and interests of the
unhappy Queen : that she was determined not to see her
oppressed by her rebellious subjects, but would employ all
her good offices, and even her power, to redeem her from
captivity, and place her in such a condition as would at
once be compatible with her dignity, and the safety of her
subjects: that she conjured her to lay aside all thoughts of
revenge, except against the murderers of her husband ; and
as she herself was his near relation, she was better entitled
than the subjects of Mary to interpose her authority on
that head ; and she therefore besought that princess, if she
had any regard to her own honour and safety, not to oppose
so just and reasonable a demand : that after those two points
were provided for, her own liberty, and the punishment of
her husband's assassins, the safety of her infant son was
94 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
next to be considered : and there seemed no expedient more
proper for that purpose, than sending him to be educated
in England : and that, besides the security which would
attend his removal from a scene of faction and convulsions,
there were many other beneficial consequences, which it
was easy to foresee, as the result of his education in that
country.
The remonstrances which Throgmorton was instructed
to make to the associated Lords, were entirely conform-
able to those sentiments which Elizabeth entertained in
Mary's favour. She empowered him to tell them, that
whatever blame she might throw on Mary's conduct, any
opposition to their sovereign was totally unjustifiable, and
incompatible with all order and good government : that it
belonged not to them to reform, much less to punish, the
mal-administration of their Prince: and the only arms
which subjects could in any case lawfully employ against
the supreme authority, were, entreaties, counsels, and re-
presentations : that if these expedients failed, they were
next to appeal by their prayers to Heaven ; and to wait
with patience till the Almighty, in whose hands are the
hearts of princes, should be pleased to turn them to justice
and to mercy ; that she inculcated not this doctrine, be-
cause she herself was interested in its observance ; but be-
cause it was universally received in all well-governed states,
and was essential to the preservation of civil society ; that
she required them to restore their Queen to liberty ; and
promised, in that case, to concur with them in all proper
expedients for regulating the government, for punishing the
king's murderers, and for guarding the life and liberty of
the infant Prince : and that if the services which she had
lately rendered the Scottish nation, in protecting them from
„ foreign usurpation, were duly considered by them, they
would repose confidence in her good offices, and would
esteem themselves blameworthy in having hitherto made no
application to her.
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 95
Elizabeth, besides these remonstrances, sent, by Throg-
morton, some articles of accommodation, which he was to
propose to both parties, as expedients for the settlement of
public affairs ; and though these articles contained some im-
portant restraints on the sovereign power, they were in the
main calculated for Mary's advantage, and were sufficiently
indulgent to her. The associated Lords, who determined
to proceed with greater severity, were apprehensive of Eli-
zabeth's partiality ; and being sensible that Mary would take
courage from the protection of that powerful princess, they
thought proper, after several affected delays, to refuse the
English Ambassador all access to her.
There were four different schemes proposed in Scotland
for the treatment of the captive Queen : one, that she should
be restored to her authority under very strict limitations :
he second, that she should be obliged to resign her crown
to the Prince, be banished the kingdom, and be confined
either to France or England ; with assurances from the So-
vereign in whose dominions she should reside, that she
should make no attempts to the disturbance of the esta-
blished government : the third, that she should be publicly
tried for her crimes, of which her enemies pretended to
have undoubted proof, and be sentenced to perpetual im-
prisonment : the fourth was still more severe, and required,
that, after her trial and condemnation, capital punishment
should be inflicted upon her. Throgmorton supported the
mildest proposal ; but though he promised his mistress's gua-
rantee for the performance of articles, threatened the ruling
party with immediate vengeance, in case of refusal, and
warned them not to draw on themselves, by their violence,
the public reproach which now lay upon their Queen ; he
found that, excepting Secretary Lidington, he had not the
good fortune to convince any of the leaders. All counsels
seemed to tend towards the more severe expedients ; and
the preachers, in particular, drawing their examples from
96 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume-
the rigorous maxims of the Old Testament, which can
only be warranted by particular revelations, inflamed the
minds of the people against their unhappy sovereign.
There were several pretenders to the regency of the
young Prince after the intended deposition of Mary. The
Earl of Lenox claimed that authority as grandfather to the
Prince : the Duke of Chatelrault, who was absent in France,
had pretensions as next heir to the crown : but the greatest
number of the associated Lords inclined to the Earl of Murray,
in whose capacity they had entire trust, and who possessed
the confidence of the preachers, and more zealous reformers.
All measures being therefore concerted, three instruments
were sent to Mary, by the hands of Lord Lindesey and Sir
Robert Melvil ; by one of which she was to resign the
crown in favour of her son ; by another to appoint Murray
Regent ; by the third to make a council, which should admi-
nister the government until his arrival in Scotland. The
Queen of Scots, seeing no prospect of relief, lying justly
under apprehensions for her life, and believing that no deed,
which she executed during her captivity, could be valid,
was prevailed on, after a plentiful effusion of tears, to sign
these three instruments ; and she took not the trouble of
inspecting any one of them.
In consequence of this forced resignation,- the young
Prince was proclaimed King (July 29), by the name of
James VI. He was soon after crowned at Stirling, and the
Earl of Morton took, in his name, the coronation-oath; in
which a promise to extirpate heresy was not forgotten.
Some republican pretensions in favour of the people's power
were countenanced in this ceremony ; and a coin was soon
after struck, on which the famous saying of Trajan was in-
scribed, Pro me ; si merear, in me : For me ; if I deserve
it, against me. Throgmorton had orders from his mistress
not to assist at the coronation of the King of Scots.
The Council of Regency had not long occasion to exer-
hume.J MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 97
cise their authority. The Earl of Murray arrived from
France, and took possession of his high office. He paid a
visit to the captive Queen ; and spoke to her in a manner
which better suited her past conduct than her present con-
dition. This harsh treatment quite extinguished in her
breast any remains of affection towards him.
Murray proceeded afterward to break, in a more public
manner, all terms of decency with her. He summoned a
parliament (Dec. 15) ; and that assembly, after voting- that
she was undoubtedly an accomplice in her husband's murder,
condemned her to imprisonment, ratified her demission of
the crown, and acknowledged her son for King, and Murray
for Regent. The Regent, a man of vigour and abilities,
employed himself successfully in reducing the kingdom.
He bribed Sir James Balfour to surrender the Castle of
Edinburgh ; he constrained the Garrison of Dunbar to open
their gates ; and he demolished that fortress.
But though everything thus bore a favourable aspect to
the new government, and all men seemed to acquiesce in
Murray's authority ; a violent revolution, however neces-
sary, can never be effected without great discontents ; and
it was not likely that, in a country where the government
in its most settled state possessed a very disjointed authority,
a new establishment should meet with no interruption or
disturbance. Few considerable men of the nation seemed
willing to support Mary, so long as Bothwell was present ;
but the removal of that obnoxious nobleman had altered the
sentiments of many. The Duke of Chatelrault being dis-
appointed of the regency, bore no good-will to Murray ;
and the same sentiments were embraced by all his nume-
rous retainers. Several of the nobility, finding that others
had taken the lead among the associators, formed a faction
apart, and opposed the prevailing power ; and besides their
being moved by some remains of duty and affection towards
Mary, the malcontent Lords, observing every thing car-
ried to extremity against her, were naturally led to embrace
o
98 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
her cause, and shelter themselves under her authority. All
who retained any propensity to the Catholic religion, were
induced to join this party ; and even the people in general,
though they had formerly either detested Mary's crimes,
or blamed her imprudence, were now inclined to compas-
sionate her present situation, and lamented that a person
possessed of so many amiable accomplishments, joined to
such high dignity, should be treated with such extreme se-
verity. Animated by all these motives, many of the prin-
cipal nobility, now adherents to the Queen of Scots, met
at Hamilton, and concerted measures for supporting the
cause of that Princess.
While these humours were in fermentation, Mary was
employed in contrivances for effecting her escape ; and she
engaged, by her charms and caresses, a young gentleman,
George Douglas, brother to the Laird of Lochleven, to
assist her in that enterprise. She even went so far as to
give him hopes of espousing her, after her marriage with
Bothwell should be dissolved on the plea of force ; and she
proposed this expedient to the Regent, who rejected it.
Douglas, however, persevered in his endeavours to free her
from captivity ; and having all opportunities of access to the
house, he was at last successful in the undertaking. He
conveyed her in disguise into a small boat (May 2), and
himself rowed her ashore. She hastened to Hamilton ; and
the news of her arrival in that place being immediately
spread abroad, many of the nobility flocked to her with their
forces. A bond of association for her defence was signed
by the Earls of Argyle, Huntley, Eglington, Crawford,
Cassillis, Rothes, Montrose, Sutherland, Errol, nine Bishops,
and nine Barons, besides many of the most considerable
gentry. And in a few days an army, to the number of
six thousand men, was assembled under her standard.
Elizabeth was no sooner informed of Mary's escape, than
she discovered her resolution of persevering in the same ge-
nerous and friendly measures which she had hitherto pur-
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 99
sued. If she had not employed force against the Regent,
during the imprisonment of that Princess, she had been
chiefly withheld by the fear of pushing him to greater extre-
mities against her ; but she had proposed to the court of
France an expedient, which, though less violent, would
have been no less effectual for her service : she desired that
France and England should by concert cut off all com-
merce with the Scots, till they should do justice to their
injured sovereign. She now dispatched Leighton into
Scotland to offer both her good offices, and the assistance of
her forees, to Mary ; but as she apprehended the entrance
of the French troops into the kingdom, she desired that the
controversy between the Queen of Scots and her subjects
might by that Princess be referred entirely to her arbitra-
tion, and that no foreign succours should be introduced into
Scotland.
But Elizabeth had not leisure to exert fully her efforts in
favour of Mary. The Regent made haste to assemble forces ;
and notwithstanding that his army was inferior in number
to that of the Queen of Scots, he took the field against her.
A battle was fought at Langside (May 15), near Glasgow,
which was entirely decisive in favour of the Regent; and
though Murray, after his victory, stopped the bloodshed,
yet was the action followed by a total dispersion of the
Queen's party. That unhappy Princess fled southwards
from the field of battle with great precipitation, and came,
with a few attendants, to the borders of England. She
here deliberated concerning her next measures, which
would probably prove so important to her future happiness
or misery. She found it impossible to remain in her own
kingdom ; she had an aversion, in her present wretched con-
dition, to return into France, where she had formerly ap-
peared with so much splendour; and she was not, besides,
provided with a vessel which could safely convey her thither :
the late generous behaviour of Elizabeth made her hope for
protection, and even assistance, from that quarter ; and as
100 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
the present fears from her domestic enemies were the most
urgent, she overlooked all other considerations, and em-
braced the resolution of taking shelter in England. She
embarked on board a fishing boat, in Galloway, and landed
the same day at Workington in Cumberland, about thirty
miles from Carlisle ; whence she immediately dispatched a
messenger to London, notifying her arrival, desiring leave
to visit Elizabeth, and craving her protection, in consequence
of former professions of friendship made her by that Prin-
cess.
Elizabeth now found herself in a situation when it was
become necessary to take some decisive resolution with re-
gard to her treatment of the Queen of Scots ; and as she
had hitherto, contrary to the opinion of Cecil, attended
more to the motives of generosity than of policy, she was
engaged by that prudent minister to weigh anew all the
considerations which occurred in this critical conjuncture.
He represented, that the party which had dethroned Mary,
and had at present assumed the government of Scotland,
was always attached to the English alliance, and was en-
gaged, by all the motives of religion and of interest, to per-
severe in their connection with Elizabeth ; and though
Murray and his friends might complain of some unkind
usage during their banishment in England, they would
easily forget these grounds of quarrel, when they reflected
that Elizabeth was the only ally on whom they could safely
rely, and that their own Queen, by her attachment to the
Catholic faith, and by her other connections, excluded them
entirely from the friendship of France, and even from that
of Spain; that Mary, on the other hand, even before her
violent breach with her Protestant subjects, was in secret
entirely governed by the counsels of the house of Guise ;
much more would she implicitly comply with their views,
when, by her own ill conduct, the power of that family
and of the zealous Catholics was become her sole resource
and security: that her pretensions to the English crown
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 101
would render her a dangerous instrument in their hands ;
and, were she once able to suppress the Protestants in her
own kingdom, she would unite the Scottish and English
Catholics with those of all foreign states in a confederacy
against the religion and government of England : that it
behoved Elizabeth, therefore, to proceed with caution in
the design of restoring her rival to the throne ; and to take
care, both that this enterprise, if undertaken, should be
effected by English forces alone, and that full securities
should beforehand be provided for the reformers and the re-
formation in Scotland ; that, above all, it was necessary to
guard carefully the person of that Princess; lest, find-
ing this unexpected reserve in the English friendship,
she should suddenly take the resolution of flying into France,
and should attempt, by foreign force, to recover possession
of her authority : that her desperate fortunes and broken re-
putation fitted her for any attempt ; and her resentment,
when she should find herself thus deserted by the Queen,
would concur with her ambition and her bigotry, and
render her an unrelenting, as well as powerful, enemy
to the English government : that if she were once abroad,
in the hands of enterprising Catholics, the attack on
England would appear to her as easy as that on Scot-
land ; and the only method, she must imagine, of recover-
ing her native kingdom, would be to acquire that crown to
which she would deem herself equally entitled ; that a neu-
trality in such interesting situations, though it might be
pretended, could never, without the most extreme danger,
be upheld by the Queen ; and the detention of JtyTary was
equally requisite, whether the power of England were to
be employed in her favour, or against her ; that nothing,
indeed, was more becoming a great prince than generosity ;
yet the suggestions of this noble principle could never,
without imprudence, be consulted in such delicate circum-
stances as those in which the Queen was at present placed :
where her own safety and the interests of her people were
102 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
intimately concerned in every resolution which she em-
braced; and though the example of successful rebellion,
especially in a neighbouring country, could nowise be
agreeable to any sovereign, yet Mary's imprudence had
been so great, perhaps her crimes so enormous, that the in-
surrection of subjects, after such provocation, could no
longer be regarded as a precedent against other princes ;
that it was first necessary for Elizabeth to ascertain, in a re-
gular and satisfactory manner, the extent of Mary's guilt,
and thence to determine the degree of protection which she
ought to afford her against her discontented subjects ; that
as no glory could surpass that of defending oppressed inno-
cence, it was equally infamous to patronise vice and murder
on the throne ; and the contagion of such dishonour would
extend itself to all who countenanced or supported it ; and
that, if the crimes of the Scottish princes should, on in-
quiry, appear as great and certain as was affirmed and be-
lieved, every measure against her, which policy should
dictate, would thence be justified ; or if she should be found
innocent, every enterprise, which friendship should inspire
would be acknowledged laudable and glorious.
Agreeably to these views, Elizabeth resolved to proceed
in a seemingly generous, but really cautious, manner with
the Queen of Scots ; and she immediately sent orders to
Lady Scrope, sister to the Duke of Norfolk, a lady who
lived in the neighbourhood, to attend on that princess.
Soon after, she dispatched to her Lord Scrope himself,
warden of the marches, and Sir Francis Knolles, vice-
chamberlain. They found Mary already lodged in the cas-
tle of Carlisle ; and, after expressing the Queen's sympa-
thy with her in her late misfortunes, they told her, that
her request of being allowed to visit their sovereign, and of
being admitted to her presence, could not at present be
complied with: till she had cleared herself of her hus-
band's murder, of which she was so strongly accused.
Elizabeth could not, without dishonour, show her any
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. • 303
countenance, or appear indifferent to the assassination of so
near a kinsman. So unexpected a check threw Mary into
tears ; and the necessity of her situation extorted from her
a declaration, that she would willingly justify herself to
her sister from all imputations, and would submit her cause
to the arbitration of so good a friend. Two days after she
sent Lord Herries to London with a letter to the same pur-
pose.
This concession, which Mary could scarcely avoid with-
out an acknowledgment of guilt, was the point expected
and desired by Elizabeth: she immediately dispatched
Midlemore to the Regent of Scotland ; requiring-Mm both
to desist from the farther prosecution of his Queen's party,
and send some persons to London to justify his conduct
with regard to her. Murray might justly be startled at
receiving a message so violent and imperious : but as his
domestic enemies were numerous and powerful, and Eng-
land was the sole ally which he could expect among fo-
reign nations, he was resolved rather to digest the affront,
than provoke Elizabeth by a refusal. He also considered,
that though that Queen had hitherto appeared partial to
Mary, many political motives evidently engaged her to sup-
port the king's cause in Scotland; and it was not to be
doubted but so penetrating a Princess would in the end dis-
cover this interest, and would at least afford him a patient
and equitable hearing. He therefore replied, that he would
himself take a journey to England, attended by other com-
missioners ; and would willingly submit the determination
of his cause to Elizabeth.
Lord Herries now perceived that his mistress had ad-
vanced too far in her concessions ; he endeavoured to main-
tain, that Mary could not, without diminution of her royal
dignity, submit to a contest with her rebellious subjects
before a foreign prince ; and he required either present aid
from England, or liberty for his queen to pass over into
France. Being pressed, however, with the former agree-
104 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
merit before the English council, he again renewed his
consent ; but in a few days he began anew to recoil ; and
it was with some difficulty he was brought to acquiesce in
the first determination. These fluctuations, which were
incessantly renewed, shewed his visible reluctance to the
measures pursued by the court of England.
The Queen of Scots discovered no less aversion to the
trial proposed ; and it required all the artifice and prudence
of Elizabeth to make her persevere in the agreement to
which she at first consented. This latter princess still said to
her, that she desired not, without Mary's consent or approba-
tion, to enter into the question, and pretended only, as afriend,
to hear her justification : that she was confident there would
be found no difficulty in refuting all the calumnies of her
enemies; and even if her apology should fall short of
full conviction, Elizabeth was determined to support her
cause, and procure her some reasonable terms of accommo-
dation ; and that it was never meant that she should be
cited to a trial on the accusation of her rebellious subjects ;
but, on the contrary, that they should be summoned to
appear, and to justify themselves for their conduct towards
her. Allured by these plausible professions, the Queen of
Scots agreed to vindicate herself by her own commissioners,
before commissioners appointed by Elizabeth.
During these transactions, Lord Scrope and Sir Francis
Knolles, who resided with Mary at Carlisle, had leisure to
study her character, and make report of it to Elizabeth.
Unbroken by her misfortunes, resolute in her purpose,
active in her enterprises, she aspired to nothing but vic-
tory ; and was determined to endure any extremity, to un-
dergo any difficulty, and to try every fortune, rather than
abandon her cause, or yield the superiority to her enemies.
Eloquent, insinuating, affable ; she had already convinced
all those who approached her, of the innocence of her past
conduct ; and as she declared her fixed purpose to require
aid of her friends all over Europe, and even to have recourse
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 105
to infidels and barbarians, rather than fail of vengeance
against her persecutors, it was easy to foresee the danger to
which her charms, her spirit, her address, if allowed to ope-
rate with their full force, would expo se them. The court of
England, therefore, who, under pretence of guarding her,
had already, in effect, detained her prisoner, was deter-
mined to watch her with greater vigilance. As Carlisle,
by its situation on the borders, afforded her great opportu-
nities of contrivinglier escape, they removed her to Bolton,
a seat of Lord Scrope's, in Yorkshire ; and the issue of the
controversy between her and the Scottish nation was
regarded as a subject more momentous to Elizabeth's
security and interests than it had hitherto been appre-
hended.
106 LOVE LETTERS OF
NOTE.
From the foregoing relation of Hume, the reader will
perceive, that Elizabeth was inadvertently, and really in
self defence, compelled to detain Mary prisoner. It should
be recollected, that the fires at Smithfield were scarcely ex-
tinguished when she mounted the throne — thousands of
Papists only waited for a rallying point to overthrow her
and the Protestant religion. The streets of Paris were yet
drenched with the blood of Protestants ; and Mary's hopes
centred in the assistance she expected from the bloody house
of Guise. How then could the Queen of England be cen-
surable for using the means which Providence placed at her
disposal for averting the plans of her vengeful enemies ?
But let us look at Mary now at the bar, charged with the
murder of her husband. As Buchanan was living in the
verge of the court, at the period now written of, I allow
that eminent scholar to open the case with his work,
named, a Detection of the Actions of Mary Queen of Scots.
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 107
Whereas of things judicially determined within a do-
minion, to have an account demanded by strangers, is, to
such as are not subject to foreign jurisdiction, both strange,
and also for the strangeness displeasant. To us, above all
other, it ought to be most grievous, who are driven to this
strait of necessity, that whose faults we desire to cover,
their lives we are forced to accuse, unless we ourselves
will be accounted the most wicked persons that live*. But
a great part of this grief is relieved by your equity (most
excellent queen !) who take it no less displeasantly to see
your kinswoman, than we to see our Queen thus in speech
of all men to be so dishonourably reported of ; who also are
for your part no less desirous to understand the truth, than
we for ours to avoid slander. Therefore we will knit up the
matter as briefly as possibly may be, and declare it with such
shortness, as we may rather seem to have lightly run over
the chief points, than to have largely expressed them, be-
ginning at the Queen's first inconstancy. For as in making
of her marriage, her lightness was very headlong and rash,
so suddainly followed either inward repentance, or at least
outward tokens of change of her affection, without any
causes appearing. For whereas the King in former time
was not only neglected, but also unworthily used, at length
began open hatred to break out against him, especially in
that winter, when he went to Peble with a small train,
even too mean for a private man, not being sent thither a
hawking, but commanded away into a corner, far from
counsel, or knowledge of public affairs. Neither is it ne-
cessary to put in writing those things, which as they were
then a spectacle noted of all men's eyes ; so now, as a fresh
image, they remain imprinted in all men's hearts. And
though this were the beginning of all the evils that fol-
* It is to be understood, that Buchanan drew up this Detection
under the auspices, and at the request,"of the Lords and Murray, with,
whom Buchanan had acted against the Queen.— Editor.
108 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanaw.
IowM, yet at the first their practices were secret, so as not
only the common people, but also such as were right fa-
miliar and present at the doing of many matters, could not
understand throughly, what thing the Queen then chiefly
intended.
At the last, about the month of April, in the year 1566,
when the Queen was returned from Dunbar to Edinburgh,
and lodged in the castle, she kept there till the time of her
travail of child. After her deliverance, immediately the
secret counsels of the intended mischief began to break out,
the effect whereof was this, To dispatch away the King by
one means or other howsoever, and to marry with Bothwell ;
and, that herself should not be touched with suspicion of
the murder, she began secretly, by little and little, to sow
seeds of dissention between the King and the Lords that
were then at court, still more and more inflaming them to
bring the matter to deadly feud. And if at any time she
espied the suspicions of the one against the other to lan-
guish, immediately, with new reports to both parts, she
whetted them on again to fresh displeasures, persuading the
nobility against the King, and the King against the nobi-
lity, that each intended others destruction. And she thought
nothing so long as to see the matter come to strokes, not
caring whether of them obtain'd the victory ; for she ac-
counted the loss on either side for her advantage, as hoping
thereby to advance forward one degree nearer to that which
she intended. Finally, In short time she so filled their
hearts with mutual jealousies one against another, that
there was not a man of any reputation in the court, but was
driven to this necessity, either with dishonour to yield to
rumours feigned against him, or to enter into combat with
the reporters, or to withdraw him home. And though we
shall pass over the rest, having desire to haste to the chief
point of the matter, yet this one notable slanderous prac-
tice at that time, is not to be omitted: for on a time when
the King had been in talk with the Queen, till the night
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 109
was far spent, the sum, in a manner, of all her communi-
cation was, that almost all the nobility had conspired his
death, and were devising- how to dispatch him. After the
King's departure from her, she sent forthwith for the Earl
of Murray her brother, who after was Regent, with this
message, That the matter was heinous, and necessarily re-
quiring his presence without delay. He being awak'd out
of sound sleep, in great fear, cast a night-gown over
his shirt, and as he was half-naked, ran to her in
haste. To him she used even the like talk as she had then
before to the King, informing him, That the King boiled in
such deadly hatred against him, and took it so displeasantly
that he stood so highly in her grace, that he was fully de-
termined, so soon as any possible opportunity served, to
murder him. So, as much as in her lay, she left no means
unassay'd to set them together by the ears; and, without
all doubt, had done it indeed, if it had not been God's good
pleasure to deliver the innocent persons from so perilous
treasons, and to disclose her wicked treachery.
When this attempt failed her, she assay'd the young and
unexperienced gentleman with a new subtil practice. She
earnestly laboured with him, that while she was great with
child, he should chuse him some young gentlewoman,
whereof there was great store, whose company he might
use in the mean time. She promised him her assent and
furtherance, with pardon and leave to commit the offence.
She named to him the Earl of Murray's wife ; not for that
she esteemed that most noble Lady most apt for such a vil-
lainy, but because she thought by that way to be revenged
of three enemies at once, the King, the Earl, and his wife,
and therewithal to win a colour and cause of divorce, to
make empty bed-room for Bothwell. After she was deli-
vered of child, though she courteously entertained all others,
yet as oft as word was brought her that the King was come
to see her, both she and her company so framed their speech
and countenance, as if they seemed to fear nothing more
110 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
than that the King should not perceive that they loath'd
him, and that his coming- and presence was displeasant to
them all. On the other side, Bothwell alone was all in all ;
he alone was governour of all her counsels, and all her af-
fairs: and so desirous was the Queen to have her hearty
affection towards him understood of all men, that if any
suit were to be made towards her, there was no way of
speeding for any man, but by Bothwell, to obtain it.
Not long after her deliverance, on a day very early, ac-
companied with very few that were privy of her counsel,
she went down to the water-side, at the place called the
New Haven ; and while all marvelled whither she went in
such haste, she suddenly entered into a ship there pre-
pared for her: which ship was provided by William Bla-
cater, Edmond Blacater, Leonard Robertson, and Thomas
Dickson, BothwelFs servants, and famous robbers and py-
rates. With this train of thieves, all honest men wondering
at it, she betook herself to sea, taking not any other with
her, no not of her gentlemen, nor necessary attendants for
common honesty. In Aloe-Castle, where the ship arrived,
how she behaved herself, I had rather every man should
with himself imagine it, than hear me declare it. This one
thing I dare affirm, that in all her words and doings, she
never kept any regard, I will not say of Queen-like ma-
jesty, but not of matron-like modesty.
The King, when he heard of this sudden departure of
the Queen, followed her with all the haste that he possibly
could by land, and there overtook her, in purpose and
hoping there to be in her company, and to enjoy the mu-
tual loving' fellowship of marriage. But how lovingly he
was received of her, both all they that were present, and
such as have heard them report it, can well remember : for
being scarcely suffered to tarry there a few hours, while his
men and horses baited, he was enforced to get him away in
haste again, on pain of further peril. As for herself, she
pastimed there certain days, if not in princely magnificence,
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 1 1 1
yet in more than princely, or rather unprincely licentious-
ness. There went she a hunting, once at a river of Magat,
another time at the forest of Glenartus. There how coyly,
yea how loftily and disdainfully she behaved herself to the
King", what need it be rehearsed, for the thing was openly
done in all men's sight, and continueth imprinted in all
men's memories.
When she was returned to Edinburgh, she took not her
lodging in her own palace, but in a private house next ad-
joining to John Balfours. Thence she removed into ano-
ther house, where the yearly court, which they call the
Exchequer, was then kept : for this house was larger, and
had pleasant gardens to it, and next to the garden, all along,
a solitary vacant room. But there was another matter
which, more than all these things, specially allured her
thither. There dwelt hard by, one David Chambers, Both-
well's servant, whose back-door adjoyn'd to the garden of
the Queen's lodging. The rest, who guesseth not ? for the
Queen herself confessed the matter, both to many others,
and also, namely, to the Regent and his mother. But she
laid all the blame upon my Lady Rerese, a woman of the
most vile unchastity, who had sometime been one of Both-
well's harlots, and then was one of the chief of the Queen's
privy-chamber. By this woman, who now in her age had,
from the gain of whoredom, betaken herself to the craft of
bawdry, was the Queen, as herself said, betray'd: for
Both well was brought through the garden into the Queen's
chamber, and there forced her against her will forsooth..
But how much against her will, Dame Rerese betrayed
her, time, the mother of truth, hath disclos'd ; for within
few days after, the Queen intending, as I suppose, to requite
force with force, and to ravish him again, sent Dame Re-
rese (who had herself also before made trial of the man's
strength) to bring him captive unto her highness.
The Queen, with Margaret Carwood, a woman privy to
all her secrets, did let her down by a string over an old wall
112 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
into the next garden. But in such warlike affairs, all things
cannot ever be so well foreseen, but that some incommodi-
ous chance may overthwartly happen : behold, the string
suddenly broke, and down with a great noise fell Dame
Rerese, a woman very heavy, both by unwieldy age, and
massy substance. But she, an old beaten soldier, nothing
dismay'd with the darkness of the night, the height of the
wall, nor with the suddenness of the fall, up she getteth
and running to Both well's chamber, she gate the door
open, and out of his bed, even out of his wife's arms, half
asleep, half naked, she forcibly brings the man to the
Queen. This manner and circumstances of the deed, not
only the most part of them that then were with the Queen
have confessed, but also George Daglish, BothwelFs cham-
berlain, a little before he was executed, plainly declared
the same, which his confession still remaineth upon re-
cord.
In the mean time, the King being commanded out of
sight, and with injuries and miseries banish'd from her,
kept himself close, with a few of his servants, at Sterlin.
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 maintain his daily necessary expences to maintain his
few servants and horses ; and finally, with brawlings, lightly
arising from every small trifle, and by quarrels, usually
pick'd, 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, on purpose, with
all kind of serviceable humbleness, to get some entry into
her former favour, and to recover the kind society of mar-
riage. Who once again being with most dishonourable dis-
dain excluded, returned from whence he came, there to be-
wail his woful miseries, as in a solitary desart.
Within few days after, when the Queen determined to
go to Jedworth, to the assizes there to be holden, about
the beginning of October, Both well maketh his journey
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 113
into Liddesdale. There behaving- himself neither according"
to the place whereto he was called, nor according- to his
nobility of race and estimation, he was wounded by a poor
thief, that was himself ready to die, and carried into the
Castle called the Hermitage, with great uncertainty of his
recovery. When news hereof was brought to Borthwick to
the Queen, she flingeth away in haste like a mad woman,
by great journeys in post, in the sharp time of winter, first
to Melrose, and then to Jedworth. There, though she
heard sure news of his life, yet her affection, impatient
of delay, could not temper itself, but needs she must
bewray her outrageous lust, and in an inconvenient
time of the year, despising all discommodities of the way
and weather, and all dangers of thieves, she betook herself
headlong- to her journey, with such a company as no man of
any honest degree would have adventured his life and his
goods among- them. Thence she returned again to Jed-
worth, and with most earnest care and dilig*ence, provideth
and prepare th all things to remove Bothwell thither. When
he was once brought thither, their company and familiar
haunt together, was such as was smally agreeing with both
their honours. There, whether it were by their nightly
and daily travels, dishonourable to themselves, and infamous
among the people, or by some secret providence of God,
the Queen fell into such a sore and dangerous sickness, that
scarcely there remained any hope of her life.
When the king heard thereof, he hasted in post to Jed-
worth, to visit the Queen, to comfort her in her weakness,
and by all the gentle services that he possibly could, to de-
clare his affection and hearty desire to do her pleasure : So
far was it off, that his lodging, and things necessary, were
provided for him against his coming (as were wont to be
for mean persons) that he found not any one token toward
him of a friendly mind. But this was a point of most bar-
barous inhumanity used against him, that the nobility, and
all the officers of the court, that were present, were speci-
Q
114 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
ally forbidden to do him any reverence at all at his coming-,
nor to yield him their lodging", nor to harbour him so much
as for one night. And whereas the Queen suspected that
the Earl of Murray, which afterward was Regent, would
shew him courtesy, she practised with his wife to go home
in haste, and feign herself sick, and keep her bed, that at
least by this colour, under pretence of her sickness, the
King might be shut out of doors. Being thus denied all
duties of civil kindness, the next day, with great grief of
heart, he returned to his old solitary corner. In the mean
time, while the King in that want of all things, and for-
saken of all friends, scarce with begging findeth room in a
cottage, Bothwell, out of the house where he was lodged
before, as it were in triumph over the King, was gloriously
removed, in sight of the people, into the Queen's own
lodging, and there laid in a lower parlour, directly under
the chamber where the Queen herself lay sick. There,
while they both were yet feeble and unhealed, she of her
disease, and he of his wound, the Queen being very weak
of her body, yet visited him daily. And when they were
both a little recovered, and their strengths not yet fully
settled, they returned to their old pastime again, and that
so openly, as they seemed to fear nothing more, than lest
their wickedness should be unknown.
About the 5th day of November, being removed from
Jedworth to a town called Calco, there she received let-
ters from the King : which when she had read in presence
of the Regent, the Earl of Huntley, and the Secretary, she
cast a piteous look, and miserably tormented herself, as if
she would have immediately fallen down again into her
former sickness ; and she plainly and expressly protested,
that unless she might, by some means or other, be dispatched
of the King, she should never have one good day : and if
by no other way she could attain it, rather than she would
abide to live in such sorrow, she would slay herself.
Within few days after, while in her return through
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 115
Marchland she lay at Coldingham, Dame Rerese passed
through the watch, and was known, , and let go. What
company she had, and whither she went at that time of the
night, it was not unknown to the Queen. From thence,
about the end of November, she came to Cragmiller, a castle
about two miles from Edinburgh, there, in the presence of
the Earl of Murray (who afterward was Regent, and now
is himself also slain) and of the Earls of Huntley and Ar-
gyle, and the Secretary, she fell into her said former dis-
course, and also added the most commodious way, as she
thought, how it might be brought to pass, that is, to sue
a divorce against the King. And she doubted not but that
it might be easily obtained, forasmuch as they were the
one to the other in such degree of consanguinity, as by the
Pope's law might not marry together, especially (which
was easy for her to do) the Bull being conveyed away,
whereby the same law was dispensed with. Here when
one had cast a doubt, that if she should go that way to
work, their son should be made a bastard, being born out
of lawful wedlock, especially, sith neither of his parents
were ignorant of the causes whereby the marriage should
be void.
When she had tossed this answer a while in her mind,
and knew that he said truth, and that she durst not as yet
disclose her purpose to make away her son, she gave over
that devise of divorce, and yet from that day forward, she
never ceased to pursue her intention of murdering the King,
as may easily be perceived by that which followed.
The King being returned from Sterline to Cragmillar,
when he hoped to have found her more gentle toward him,
and her displeasure by process of time somewhat appeased,
he so found no token of change of her affection, that he
was not allowed any thing for his daily sustenance, unless
he kept him still at Sterline. Which thing exceedingly in-
creased the people's suspicion, otherwise of itself already
116 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
enough inclined to that judgment, of the unchast company
of the Queen with Bothwell.
About the beginning of December, when there were
embassadours came out of France and England, to the
christening of the King that now is : that Bothwell might
be seen gorgiously arrayed among the nobility, she herself
laid out the money to buy him apparel, andsomeshe bought
herself of the merchants for him, and she so applied her-
self, with such diligence in overseeing the making thereof,
as if she had been, I will not say his wife, but even his
servant. In the mean time, her lawful husband, at the
christning of his own child, not only wanted all her main-
tenance for his necessary expences, but also was commanded
not once to come in the embassadours sight ; his ordinary
servants were removed from him ; the nobility were en-
joy ned not once to attend on him, nor to do him honour,
nor in a manner to know him : the foreign embassadours
were warned not to talk with him, when as the most part
of the day they were in the castle where he was.
The young gentleman, thus contemptuously and unkindly
used, fell in such despair, that he departed from Sterline
and went to Glasgow to his father. At his departure, the
Queen still pursued him with her wonted hatred. All his
silver plate, wherewith he was served from his marriage till
that day, she took it away every whit, and appointed pew-
ter in the stead thereof. But let this serve only to prove her
contempt of him : the rest that followed are evident argu-
ments of outragious cruelty and unappeasable hatred. Be-
fore he had passed a mile from Sterline, all the parts of his
body were taken with such a sore ach, as it might easily
appear, that the same proceeded not of the force of any
sickness, but by plain treachery. The tokens of which
treachery, certain black pimples, so soon as he was come
to Glasgow, brake out over all his whole body, with so
great ach and such pain throughout all his limbs, that he
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 117
lingered out his life with very small hope of escape : and yet
all this while, the Queen would not suffer so much as a
physician once to come at him.
After the ceremonies of the christening* ended, she prac-
tised with her brother, the Earl of Murray, that when
he should go to conduct the Earl of Bedford, the Queen of
England's embassadour, to St. Andre wes, he should require
Bothwell also to bear him company : who, indeed, freely
promised so to do ; howbeit, both he and the Queen, the
deviser of that dissimulation, thought nothing less, as the
success showed. For so soon as the King was gone to
Glasgow, and the rest towards St. Andrewes, she with her
Bothwell got her to Drumen, and from thence to Tylebarn.
In which houses, they so passed the time about eight days,
in every corner, and in familiar haunting together, as all
(saving themselves alone, that had thrown away all shame)
were highly offended with their contempt and vile regard
of public fame, seeing them now not once to seek to cover
their filthy wickedness.
When about the beginning of January, they were re-
turned to Sterline, she began to find fault with the house
wherein her son w T as nursed, as incommodious, because it
stood in a cold and moist place, dangerous for bringing the
child to a rheume. But it shall easily appear, that this was
done for other purpose, forasmuch as all these faults, that
she pretended were not in that house, but were indeed in
the other house to which the child was removed, being set
in a low place, being a very marsh. The child being
scarcely above six months old, in the deep of a sharp win-
ter, was conveyed to Edinburgh. There, because the first
attempt prevailed not, and the force of the poyson was over-
come by strength of nature, that at length yet she might
bring forth that wherewith she had so long travailed, she
entreth into new devises for the murder of the King.
Herself goeth to Glasgow, she pretendeth the cause of
her journey to be to see the King alive, whose death she
118 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
had continually gaped for the whole moneth before. But
what was indeed the true cause of that journey, each man
may plainly perceive by her letters to Bothwell. Being-
no w out of care of her son, whom she had in her own
ward, bending herself to the slaughter of her husband, to
Glasgow she goeth, accompanied with the Hamiltons, and
other the King's natural enemies.
Bothwell (as it was agreed on between them before)
provideth all things ready, that were needful to accomplish
that hainous act ; first of all, a house not commodious for a
sick man, nor comely for a King, for it was both torn and
ruinous, and had stood empty without any dweller for di-
vers years before ; in a place of small resort, between the
old fallen walls of two churches, near a few alms-houses
for poor beggars. And that no commodious means for com-
mitting that mischief might be wanting, there was a pos-
tern door in the town-wall hard by the house, whereby they
easily might pass away into the fields. In chusing of the
place, she would needs have it thought, that they had re-
spect to the wholesomeness thereof. And to avoid suspi-
cion, that this was a fegined pretence, herself, the two
nights next before the day of the murder, lay there in a
lower room under the King's chamber. And as she did cu-
riously put off the shews of suspicion from herself, so the
execution of the slaughter, she was content to have com-
mitted to others.
About three days before the King was slain, she prac-
tised to set her brother Robert and him at deadly enmity,
making account that it should be gain to her, which soever
of them both had perished. For matter to ground their dis-
sention, she made rehearsal of the speech the King had had
with her, that concerning her brother. And when they
both so grew in talk, as the one seemed to charge the other
with the lie, at last they were in a manner come from words
to blows. But while they were both laying their hands on
their weapons, the Queen, feigning as though she had been
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, 119
marvellously afraid of that which she so earnestly de-
sired, calleth the Earl of Murray, her other brother, to the
parting-, to this intent, that she might either presently bring
him in danger to be slain himself, or in time to come to bear
the blame of such mischief as then might have happened^
When this way the success fell not out as she desired, she
devised a new way to transfer the suspicion from herself.
While the Earl of Murray did willingly keep himself
from the court, and had reasonable excuse for his absence,
for that his wife being near her time, was besides that
always very sick : at the same time there was an ambassa-
dor come from the Duke of Savoy. This the Queen took
for a convenient colour to send for her brother : but the true
cause of her sending for him was, that she had a desire to
throw the suspicion of the King's murder upon him, and
upon the Earl Moreton, and therewithal also at once to
procure the destruction of those two, being men accepta-
ble to the peril, and likewise adversaries to her practice,
who intended to set up a tyrannical government : but God's
good clemency, that had oft before delivered the Earl of
Murray from many treasons of his enemies, did then also
manifestly succour him ; for upon the Sunday, which was
the ninth day of February, when he was going to church,
to hear a sermon, a letter was brought him, that his
wife was delivered before her time, and in very small hope
of life. When he, being dismayed at this sudden news,
desired leave of the Queen to depart ; she answered, that
if the cause were so, it were a superfluous journey for him
to go to her, being not able to do her any good in her sick-
ness. But he being still the more importunate, she prayed
him, that he would yet tarry but that one night, and take his
journey the next day to his wife. But the mercy of God
now, as at many other times, did deliver that innocent gen-
tleman from the present peril, and also took away the occa-
sion of slander against him for the time to come. Howbeit
for all this, though there were no cause of suspicion, yet he
120 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
escaped not free from slander : for Huntley and Both well,
though they could not justly charge him, yet laboured, by
infamous libels, which they spread abroad, to distein him
with the most foul spot of that shameful act. And
whereas the murder was committed after midnight, they had
before day-light caused (by special fore-appointed messen-
gers) rumours to be spread in England, that the Earls o f
Murray and Moreton were acters of that slaughter. But
that rumour, so soon as the light of the truth once brake
forth, suddenly vanished away, as other falsehoods are com-
monly wont to do.
When all things were ready prepared for performing this
cruel fact, and yet all occasions cut off to divert the blame
thereof, the partners of the conspiracy, fearing lest long
delay should either bring some impediment to their purpose,
or disclose their counsels, determined to dispatch it in all
haste. The Queen therefore for manners sake after supper,
goeth up to the King's lodgings. There, being determined
to shew him all the tokens of reconciled good will, she
spent certain hours in his company, with countenance and
talk much more familiar than she had used in six or seven
months before. At the coming in of Paris, she broke off her
talk, and prepared to depart. This Paris was a young
man born in France, and had lived certain years in the houses
of Bothwell and Seton, and afterward with the Queen.
Whereas the other keys of that lodging were in custody of
the King's servants ; Paris, by feigning certain fond and
slender causes, had in keeping the keys, which Bothwell
kept back, of the back gate and the postern. He was in
special trust with Bothwell and the Queen, touching their
secret affairs. His coming (as it was before agreed among
them) was a watchword, that all was ready for the matter.
As soon as the Queen saw him, she rose up immediately,
and feigning another cause to depart, she said, alas ! I have
much offended toward Sebastian this day, that I appeared
not in a mask at his marriage. This Sebastian was an Ar-
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OP SCOTS. 121
vernois, a man in great favour with the Queen for his cun-
ning in music, and his merry jesting, and was married the
same day. The King thus left, in a manner, alone in a de-
solate place, the Queen departeth, accompanied with the
Earls of Argyle, Huntley, and Cassilis, that attended upon
her. After that she was come into her chamber after mid-
night, she was in long talk with Bothwell, none being pre-
sent but the captain of her guard. And when he also with-
drew himself, Bothwell was there left alone without other
company, and shortly after retired into his own chamber.
He changed his apparel, because he would be unknown of
such as met him ; and put on a loose cloak, such as the
S wartrytters wear, and so went forward through the watch,
to execute his intended traiterous fact. The whole order of
the doing thereof, may be easily understood by their con-
fessions, which were put to death for it.
Bothwell, after the deed was ended that he went about,
returned, and as if he had been ignorant of all that was
done, he got him to bed. The Queen in the mean time, in
great expectation of the success, how finely she played her
part (as she thought) it is marvel to tell. For she not
once stirred at the noise of the fall of the house, which
shook the whole town ; nor at the fearful outcries that fol-
lowed, and confused cries of the people, (for I think there
happened to her not any new thing unlooked for) till Both-
well feigning himself afraid, rose again out of his bed, and
came to her with the Earls of Argyle, Huntley, and Athole ;
and with the wives of the Earls of Athole and Murray,
and with the Secretary. There, while the monstrous
chance was in telling, while every one wondered at the
thing, that the King's lodgings was even from the very
foundation blown up into the air, and the King himself
slain. In this amazedness and confused fear of all sorts of
persons, only that same heroic heart of the Queen main-
tained itself so far from casting herself down into base la-
mentations and tears, unbeseeming the royal name, blood,
R
122 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
and estate, that she marched, or rather far surmounted all
credit of the constancy of any in former times. This also
proceeded of the same nobility of courage, that she set out
the greater part of them that were about her, to inquire out
the manner of the doing, and commanded the souldiers that
watched to follow, and she herself, settled herself to rest,
with a countenance so quiet, and mind so untroubled, that
she sweetly slept till the next day at noon. But lest she
should appear void of all naturalness at the death of her
husband, by little and little, at length she kept her close,
and proclaimed a mourning not long to endure.
The common people, not certainly knowing whether she
laughed or lamented, were divided into sundry imaginations,
sith it was perilous dealing with the disguising of the court,
either in knowing it to seem to mock it, or in not cunningly
dissembling to seem to know it. While some talked of one
sort, some of another, in the mean time, of any enquiry
to be had of the murder, there was no mention made at all.
At length, the day following, in the afternoon, when both
shame and fear constrained them thereto, Bothwell, the
principal doer of the vile act, with certain others that were
privy to the same, assembled together with the Earl of Ar-
gyle, for that he is by inheritance the Justice to deal with
crimes punishable by death. First, as though they had been
utterly ignorant of all that ever was done, they begin to
wonder at the strangeness of the matter, such as never was
heard of, and incredible. Then they begin a little to be
busy about their enquiry, they sent for a few poor silly wo-
men that dwelt thereabout. Which, poor souls, standing
in doubt whether it were better for them to tell, or hold
their peace, though they daintily tempered their speech,
yet when they had blabbed out somewhat more than the
Judges looked for, they were dismissed again as fools that
had but undiscretly prated. For their testimonies, though
they touched some folks shrewdly, yet they were such as
they might easily set light by.
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF- SCOTS. 123
Then were called and examined the King's servants, that
were of his houshold, such as were left undestroyed by that
cruel chance. They denyed that they had the keys in keep-
ing*. Being* examined who had them, they said, the Queen.
So the enquiry (for manners sake) was adjourned, but in-
deed suppressed, for fear lest if they proceeded further, the
secrets of the court might hap to be disclosed. Yet lest the
matter should seem not to be regarded, out goeth a Procla-
mation with rewards promised to him that could give infor-
mation of it. But who durst accuse the Queen ? or (which
was in manner more perilous) who durst detect Both well
of such an horrible offence ? Especially when he himself
was both doer, judge, inquirer, and examiner? Yet this fear,
which stopped the mouths of every man in particular, could
not restrain the whole multitude in general. For both by
books set out, and by pictures, and by cries in the dark
nig*ht, it was so handled, that the doers of that mischievous
fact mig*ht easily understand, that those secrets of theirs
were come abroad. And when every man was now out of
doubt, who did the murder, and who gave furtherance
unto it, the more that they laboured to keep their own
names undisclosed, so much the more the people's grudge,
(being restrained) broke out the more openly.
Though they took upon them, as if they regarded not these
things, yet, sometime the rumours so inwardly pricked
them to the quick, that they could by no means hide their
anger. Therefore, discontinuing their searching for the
King's death, they begin a new enquiry, far more earnest,
against the authors of books, and the slanders of Bothwell,
as they themselves termed them. These examinations
were so rigorously put in execution, as neither money, nor
labour of men nor horses was spared about it. All the
painters were called together, all that earned their living by
writing, were assembled, to judge of the pictures and books
that had been set out. And if any painter had not of his
own accord confessed, that it was he of whose work they
124 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan,
enquired, another that was not guilty thereof, but touched
a little with a slight suspition, had suffered for it. There
was published a Proclamation agreeable with the manner
of the Inquisition, wherein it was made death, not only to
set out any such matter, but also to read it, being set out
by another. But these persons, that with threatening of
death practised to stop the speech of the people, yet not sa-
tisfied with the most cruel murder of the King, ceased not
their hatred against him when he was dead. All his goods,
armour, horses, apparel, and other furniture of his house,
the Queen divided, some to them that slew him, and some
to his father's ancient deadly foes, as if they had upon at-
tainder come to her by forfeiture, and his father's tenants,
as though they had been also part of our conquered booty,
she so scraped, till she brought them in a manner to extream
beggary.
But this was a strange example of cruelty, and such as
never was heard of before, that as she had satisfied her
heart with his slaughter, so she would needs feed her eyes
with the sight of his body slain. For she long beheld, and
not only without grief, but also with greedy eyes, his dead
corpse, the goodliest corpse of any gentleman that ever
lived in this age. And then suddenly, without any funeral
honour, in the night-time, bj' common carriers of dead bo-
dies, upon a vile bier, she caused him to be buried hard by
David Rizo. When these doings were known abroad, and
that the indignation of the people had overcome the threat-
enings of penalties, and the frankness of sorrow surmounted
fear, by little and little she began to set her face, and with
counterfeiting of mourning, she laboured to appease the
hearts of the grudging people. For where the ancient
manner hath been for Queens, after the death of their hus-
bands, by the space of forty days, not only to forbear the
company of men, but also from looking on the open light,
she attempted a disguised manner of mourning. But the
mirth of heart far passing the feigned sorrow, she shut the
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 125
doors indeed, but she set open the windows, and within four
days she threw away her wailing weed, and began to be-
hold both sun and open sky again. But this one thing fell
very overthwartly. For when Henry Killegree was come
from the Queen of England to comfort her, as the manner
is, this gentleman strangers hap was to mar the play, and
unvizor all the disguising. For when he was, by the
Queen's commandment, come to the court, though he being
an old courtier, and a good discreet gentleman, did no-
thing hastily, yet he came in so unseasonably, ere the stage
was prepared and furnished, that he found the windows
open, the candles not yet lighted, and all the provision for
the play out of order. When of the forty days that are ap-
pointed for the mourning, scarce twelve were yet fully past
and the counterfeiting would not frame half handsomely,
and to disclose her true affections so soon she was somewhat
ashamed, at length taking heart of grace unto her, and
neglecting such trifles, she cometh to her own bias, and
openly sheweth her own natural conditions.
She posteth to Seton's house, with a very few, and those
not all of the saddest company. There Bothwell, though
it seemed, that for the great favour he then had in court,
and for the nobility of his birth, and other respects of ho-
nour, he should have been, next after the Queen, most ho-
nourably received, yet was lodged in a chamber hard by
the kitchen. Howbeit the same was a place not altogether
unfit to assuage their sorrows, for it was directly under the
Queen's chamber : and if any sudden qualm of grief should
have happened to come over her heart, there was a pair of
stairs, though somewhat narrow, yet wide enough for
Bothwell to get up to comfort her.
In the mean time, after the rumour hereof was spread
into France, Monsieur de Croc, who had often before been
Ambassador in Scotland, came in suddenly upon them, God
wot, full unseasonably. By his advice she returned to Edin-
burgh, out of that den which, even as far as France, was
126 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
infamous. But in Seton's house were so many commodious
opportunities for her purpose, that howsoever her good name
were thereby impaired, needs she must go thither again.
There were counsels 'holden of the great affairs of the realm.
The end of the consultation was, that Bothwell should be
arrained of the murder, and acquit by judges thereto chosen
for the purpose, and constrained. It was concluded, That
the meaner sort of the judges might with favour and fair
promises be led, and the rest of the greater and graver sort
(whom for fashion's sake they were driven to call to the
matter) might be drawn with fear to acquit him. For be-
side libels thereof commonly thrown abroad, the King's fa-
ther, the Earl of Lennox, did openly accuse him for prin-
cipal author of the murder.
The assembly of the States in Parliament was at hand,
which was to be holden the thirteenth of April, before
which day they would needs have the arraignment dis-
patched. That great haste was the cause why, in that
proceeding and trial, nothing has been done according to
the form of law, nothing in order, nothing after the ancient
usage. There ought to have been public summons of the
accusers, the next of the kin, the wife, the father, and the
son, either to be present themselves, or to send their proc-
tors. The law also gave them time of forty days. But
here the father was commanded to come within thirteen
days, and that without any assembly of his friends, with
his own houshold retinue only, which by reason of his
great poverty, was now brought to a few: while in
the mean time Bothwell, with great bands of men, daily
mustered about the town. And because he verily be-
lieved that in so assured peril, no man would take upon him
to be his accuser, he grew to such a negligence, and such con-
tempt of law and judicial proceedings, that the indictment
was framed of a murder supposed to be done the ninth day
of February, when indeed the King was slain the tenth day .
In choosing and refusing of the judges, the like severity
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
127
was used, for the murderers themselves made the choice of
the judges, when there was no man to take exception
against them. The Earl of Cassiles, willing rather to pay
his amercement, as the manner is, than to be a judge in the
matter, when he had stood in it awhile, and would not ap-
pear at the Queen's request and menacing, yea, though she
sent her ring for credit both of her earnest prayer and
threatening, at length, constrained with fear of exile and
punishment, he yielded. There sate the judges, not chosen
to judge, but picked out to acquit : the cause proceeded
without any adversary : a trial in matter of life and death,
when there was never an accuser, but subborned by the
party accused : so as a man might well think it not the trial
of a cause in a court, but the playing of an enterlude upon
In all this fearlessness of all things, yet behold, I pray
you, of what force is the testimony of conscience on either
side. Suddainly, unlocked for, there starteth up a young
man of the Earl of Lennox house, in whom the respect of
duty vanquished the fear of danger. This young man made
an open protestation, that the same assembly of judges was
not lawful, because in their proceeding there was nothing*
done according to law nor order. At this saying the judges
were all stricken in such a fear, that they all, by and by,
with one accord made protestation, with proviso, that it
should not hereafter be prejudicial to them, in that they
had acquitted a prisoner whom no man accused, and that ;
they had acquitted him of a murder alledged to be com-
mitted on the ninth day of February, when the King was
slain the tenth day. This is that same noble tryal and judg-
ment, whereby Bothwell was not cleansed of the crime,
but as it were washed with Sowter's blacking, and so more
comly prepared to go a wooing to wed the Queen, and so
to become a husband to her greater shame, than when he
was before an adulterer. To make up yet the full perfec-
tion and encrease of this jolly acquital, there was set up a
128 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
writing in the most notorious place of the court, that though
Bothwell had by just trial and judgment been lawfully
cleared and acquitted of the murder, whereof he had been
falsely accused, yet for more manifest declaration of his in-
nocency to the whole world, he was ready to try it in com-
bat, if any man of good fame, and a gentleman born,
would charge him with the murder of the King.
The next day after, there was one that set up a bill in
open place, and offered to accept the combat, so that there
might for the battel be such a place appointed, wherein the
party might safely without fear disclose his name.
While matters and mens affections were in this stir, the
parliament assembled. Thereafter they had for eight days
together, in manner done nothing but treated of reversing
the judgment, whereby the Earl Huntley's father had been
attainted of treason, and for restoring the son to his father's
possessions and honours : there were also certain plausible
things granted to please the people, and specially for the
church, namely, the repealing of certain laws of Popish
tyranny, made for punishing of such as durst once mutter
against the decree of the see of Rome.
Though these things were acceptable among the com-
monalty, yet there remained one thing which no less vexed
the Queen, than offended the people, that is to say, her
company with Bothwell, not altogether so openly as she
would fain have had it, and yet not so secretly, but that the
people perceived it, for that all men's eyes were gaping
upon them. For whereas Bothwell had a wife of his own,
and to tarry for a divorce, was thought an overlong delay,
and in the mean time the Queen could neither openly avow
to have him, nor secretly enjoy him, and yet in no wise
could be without him : some shift, though not an honest
one, yet a shift, forsooth, must be devised ; and when they
could not think upon a better, it seemed to them a marvel-
lous fine invention, God wot, that Bothwell should ravish
and take away the Queen by force, and so save her honour.
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 129
So within a few days after, as the Queen was returning
from Sterline, Bothwell forceabiy took her by the way,
and carried her to Dunbar; whether with her will, or
against her will, every man may easily perceive by her own
letters, that she wrote to him by the way as she was in her
journey. But howsoever it were, that the wrong- of the
ravishment might be defaced with honest colour of mar-
riage, BothwelFs wife was compelled in two courts to sue
a divorce against her husband.
Before judges delegate, appointed by the Queen's autho-
rity to have jurisdiction in such causes, the wife accuseth
the husband of adultery, which with them was a just cause
of divorce. Before Popish judges, who indeed by law
were forbidden, yet by special dispensation of the Bishop
of St. Andrew, were for the hearing of this cause only
permitted : Bothwell was accused, that before his marriage
with his wife, he had committed fornication with his wife's
near kinswoman : ho wbeit all this while they kept close
the Pope's bull, by which the same offence was dispensed
with. The divorce was posted forward without any slack-
ness either in the witnesses, or in the judges. Within the
space of ten days, the matter was taken in hand, began,
and intended, joyned unto, tryed, and judged, before both
the companies of judges. When the sentence of divorce
was given, and sent to Dunbar, Bothwell by and by assem-
bleth together from all parts, all his friends, his servants,
and retainers, to convey to Edinburgh the Queen, who
would then needs take upon her to be a prisoner.
When that they were thus gathered together, the most
part of them in armour, by the way, as they were conduct-
ing the Queen, many of them were suddenly stricken in
some fear, lest, in time to come, they might be charged for
holding the Queen as prisoner ; and although there were no
other evidence, yet this one thing would be proof enough
against them, that in time of peace they were found armed
about her. While they were in this doubt, in the midst of
s
130 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
their journey, they all threw away their launces, and in
more peaceable array, at least in shew, they conveyed her
to the Castle of Edinburgh, which castle was also the
same time at BothwelFs commandment. There she tarried
with Both well while the banes were publishing. Then
she came down out of the castle into the town, to the com-
mon assembly of the judges, and there pronounced herself
to be free at her own liberty. And so at length, within
eight days, she finished that unmatrimonial matrimony, all
good men so far detesting, or at least grudgingly forejudging
the unlucky end thereof, that Monsieur de Croc, the French
King's embassadour, a man very well affectioned to the
Queen, one of the faction of the house of Guise, and so-
journing very near to the place, though he were earnestly
required, yet he thought he could not with his honour be
present at the feast.
These things were done about the 25th of May, in the
year of our Lord 1567. The 25th day of June following,
Bothwell, being either dismaid with a guilty conscience of
the vile fact, or sent away by the Queen, she came herself
to the Lords of the realm, who earnestly required the pub-
lic King-murderer to be brought forth to due execution.
What hath been done since pertaineth not much to the pre-
sent matter. And though my speech have been, perhaps,
longer than you looked for, yet I plainly perceive in my-
self, that, while I seek to make an end of my tale, I have
omitted, and many things for haste I have but lightly
touched ; and nothing have I, according to the heinousness
of the offence, fully expressed.
Seeing these things are by writings and witnesses so
probable, and stick so fast imprinted in the knowledge of
all the people, that such as would have them most hidden,
cannot deny them : what place is here left for cunning, or
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 131
what need can be of diligence, to prove or reprove a thing*
so plain and evident ? For all things are so clear, so ma-
nifest, and so mutually knit together, each part to strength-
en each other, that there is no need of foreign probations ;
and all things so fully witnessed, that there is no necessity
of other arguments. For if any will ask me, as in other
matters is used to be ask'd, the causes of so foul a fact, I
might also likewise ask of him, sith the time, the place,
the deed, and the author is sufficiently known, to what pur-
pose is it to stand upon searching the causes, or to
enquire by what means it was atchieved? Again, when
there be extant so many causes of hatred, and so many
tokens thereof, which do offer themselves to knowledge,
as may well be able to bring even things uncertain to
be believed, surely so far-fetched an explication of the
act committed may right well seem superfluous. Neverthe-
less, for as much as so great is the impudence of the vile
offenders in denying, and so confident the boldness of im-
pudent persons in lying, let us assay to see with what wea-
pons truth is able to defend innocency against those wicked
monsters. If then they demand the cause of so heinous a
deed, I answer, it was unappeasable hatred. I demand of
them again, if they can deny that such hatred was, or that
the same hatred was so great, as without blood could not
be satisfied ? If they can deny that such hatred was, then
let them answer me, why she, a young woman, rich, no-
ble, and finally a Queen, thrust away from her, in a man-
ner, the young gentleman into exile, he being beautiful,
near of her kin, of the blood royal, and (that which is
greatest) entirely loving her, in the deep of sharp winter,
into places neither fruitful of things necessary, nor replen-
ished with inhabitants, and commonly perilous, being
haunted with thieves ? Why sent she him away into desart
and craggy mountains, without provision, into open perils,
and in a manner without any company? What could she
mare have done, if she had most deadly hated him, and
132 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
covenanted to have him dispatched? But I trow, she feared
no such thing-. But that voidness of fear, I construe to be
a note of most obstinate hatred, especially sith she both
knew the places, and was not ignorant of the dangers.
That husband, therefore, to whom she was but lately mar-
ried, against the liking* of her subjects, against the will of
their friends on both sides, without whom she could not
endure, whom she scarcely durst suffer out of her sight ;
him, I say, she thrust forth to uncertain death, and most
certain perils.
Will ye ask of me the causes of the change of her af-
fection ? What if I say, I knew them not ? It sufficeth for
my purpose to prove that she hated him. What if I ask
again, why she so extremely loved the young- man whom
she never saw before ? Why she so hastily married him,
and so unmeasurably honoured him ? Such are the natures
of some women, especially such as cannot brook the
greatness of their own good fortune; they have vehe-
ment affections both ways; they love with excess, and
hate without measure ; and to what side soever they bend,
they are not governed by advised reason, but carried by
violent motion. I could, out of the monuments of anti-
quity, rehearse innumerable examples; but of herself, I
had rather believe herself.
Call to mind that part of her letters to Bothwell, wherein
she maketh herself Medea, that is a woman that neither in
love nor hatred can keep any mean. I could also alledge
other causes of her hatred, although indeed not reasonable
causes, yet such as are able to shove forward, and to push
headlong an outrageous heart which is not able to govern
itself.
But herein I will forbear : and, if herself will suffer me,
howsoever she hath deserved of her subjects, yet, so much
as the common cause will permit, I will spare her ho-
nour ; yea, I will spare it more than the cause will allow
me.
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 133
Therefore I omit her other causes of hatred, and return
this ; that she hated, and not meanly hated him.
Will you see also another proof of her hatred ? The
tender wife, forsooth, so loving* and fond of him, when
she could not do him the duty of a wife, offereth to do
him the service of a bawd : she made choice of her own
brother's wife to put to him in her place.
What shall we think to be the cause of this so sudden
change ? She that of late gaping-ly sought for every small
breath of suspicion against her husband, and, where true
causes were not to be found, she invented such as were
manifestly false ; and this she curiously did, not when she
loved him, but when she had beg-un to hate him ; and
while she was fishing for occasions to be divorced from
him, even she, I say, of her own accord, offereth him a
lover, declareth her own contentation therewith, and pro-
miseth her furtherance.
What can we imagine to be the cause hereof ? Was it to
please her husband ? No, for she hated him ; and although
she loved him, 3 et such manner of doing- in a woman is
uncredible. Was it that he, knowing himself likewise
guilty of adultery on his part, might the more willingly
bear with a partner in use of his wife ? No, for he bare
with all perforce against his will. Was it to find cause of
divorce, and so to drive him to leave his bed empty for
Bothwell? Yea, that it was indeed that she sought for,
but yet not that alone ; for in this woman you must imagine
no single mischief. She hated the Earl Murray's wife,
even with such hatred as all unhonest persons hate the
honest. The differences of their two fames much vexed
her, and therewithal also she coveted to set the g-ood
Lady's husband, and the King together by the ears, and so
rid herself of two troubles at once.
Thus you see how many and how great things she
practised to dispatch, with one labour, her paramour's
enemy, the bridler of her licentiousness, and her own
134 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
hated husband, she hopeth to rid all at once ; while, by
such sundry sorts of wicked doings, she maketh haste to
her most wicked wedding-.
To what end tended that fearful hasty calling- for the
Earl of Murray, at midnight? Could she not tarry till
day-light ? What was the occasion of so sudden fear ? The
good woman, God wot, careful for the concord of the no-
bility, dearly loving her brother, and most dearly loving
her husband, was afraid, forsooth, lest her brother should,
in the night, have been assaulted by the King, whom she
herself had disarmed. Disarmed, said I ? yea, she had
disfurnished him of all convenient company for his estate,
and made him to be shaken up with a woman's scolding,
and that by one of her own train, one who was past all
shame, and -of prostitute unchastity.
She feared much, lest the young Man, destitute of
friends, beset with all sorts of miseries, should make as-
sault in the night-time. Upon what person ? The Queen's
brother, a man of great reputation and power, and in
highest favour with all estates. And where should he
have assaulted him? In a most strong castle; whereupon
the deed being done, neither was way for him to flee, nor
means of refuge to the Queen's mercy. For what cause
should he assail him ? there was no enmity between them,
but such as she had sowed. What say you, if she co-
veted that thing most, which she most feigned herself to
fear : for to what purpose else sent she for her brother to
come to her in the night-time, unarmed ? Why did she
not advise him of this one thing at least, that because he
was to pass by, and hard by the King's door, he should
in any wise put on his armour ? Why did she not either
forewarn him of the danger, or defer the calling of him
till next morning ? No, no, she had a more subtil purpose
in hand. She had but newly sent the King away, inflamed
(as she hoped) with hatred of the Earl of Murray.
So thought she it not unlikely, but that the King,
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 135
kindled with fresh displeasure, rash by fervour of youth,
lightly believing- her by excess of love, would have ad-
ventured to slay his supposed enemy, naked, unaccompa-
nied, and unarmed. So sent she the King", raging- in
anger, to commit the slaughter, and practised to draw
the Earl of Murray naked, unaccompanied, unwarned, to
be suddenly trapped in treason. This was her meaning,
this was her desire. But wicked counsels, how subtil
soever they be, are not always prosperous.
What meant this, that after her deliverance ^of child, at
which time other women do chiefly comfort themselves in
the lovingness of their husbands, and confess that they
find some ease of pain by sight of them, she at the same
time driveth her husband away ? What else shall we say
she meant thereby ; but, as the Poet saith, for pure love,
God wot, she shut him out of doors. But this tender crea-
ture, that either shutteth out her husband, or as soon as he
is come chaseth him away again, whose stomach turned at
the sight of him, who is suddenly taken with pangs at his
presence, when she was in the pinnace amongst pirates and
thieves, she could abide at the poop, and be content to
handle the boisterous cables. Now ask I whom she loved,
and whom she hated ? For that at Aloes he drove away the
cumbersome interrupter of her pastime ; that again, when
he came to her at Edinburgh, she rejected him, I blame her
not. I am content to believe she did it not for hate to her
husband, but for her fancy's sake ; that again at Jedworth
she suffered him not to come at her, let it be borne withal :
for not without cause she feared, lest the force of her sick-
ness would increase at sight of him, whose death she so
earnestly desired. That she gave special commandment
that no man should lodge him, no man should relieve him
with meat or drink, that she in a manner forbad him the
use of fire and water : this is undoubtedly a token of outra-
geous hatred. But it seemeth she feared the very infection
of her husband, if he were in any place near her.
136 LOVE LETTERS OF [btjchanan.
That she sent him back from Cragmillar to Sterline, I
complain not. But that she bereaved him of all his neces-
saries, that she took him from his servants, that she abated
the allowance of his expences, that she alienated the no-
bility from him, that she forbade all strangers the sight of
him, and (as much as in her lay) took from him, even
while he lived, the use of heaven, earth, and air: this, I
say, I know not what to call it, unnaturalness, hatred,
barbarous fierceness, or outrageous cruelty? That when
he went from Sterline, she took away all his plate, let it
be pardoned, for what need had he of silver, that carried
with him present death in his bosom? But this I beseech
you to consider, what great indignation of all men it hath
kindled, that when the King, poor soul, made hard shift
to live in desolation, sorrow, and beggary, whilst that
Bothwell, like an ape in purple, was triumphantly shewed
to the embassadours of foreign nations, even that same
partner of her husband's bed, not so much for the love of
himself, as for despight of her husband, was carried abroad,
set out with all kind of ornaments, even that adulterous
partner, I say, that neither in birth, nor in beauty, nor in
any honest quality, was in anywise comparable with her
disdained husband. Now let them deny that here were
tokens of hatred.
But how great, and how unappeasable this hatred was,
even by this, ye may gather. Her husband so oft shut out,
so oft sent away with despight, driven to extreme poverty,
banished into a desolate corner, far from the court, far
from the presence of men, spoiled of his servants and house-
hold furniture, bereaved, in a manner, of his daily necessary
sustenance, yet by no injuries can be shaken from her, by
no fear of death can be withdrawn, but with serviceable-
ness and patience he assayeth, if not to overcome, yet at
least somewhat to assuage the violent cruelty of her unkind
courage. In the meantime, what doth this good gentle-
wife, this merciful Queen, that is at the beholding of men's
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 137
miseries so kind and pitiful ? Neither is she once moved with
the loving doings, nor with the wretched plight, nor with
the miserable wofulness of her husband, nor appeased by
time, nor satisfied with torments, but rather with his ser-
viceableness she is irritated, with his humble prayers she is
more inflamed, and at every time of his coming she deviseth
some new increase of spightful dishonour: wherein, when
she had spent the uttermost of all her force, wit, and bitter-
ness of nature, when she saw the poor young gentleman,
neither to give over by fainting, being oppressed with po-
verty ; and though he were despised of all men, and so often
thrown into open peril, neither to despair, nor otherwise,
more cruelly, to make away himself ; at length, as it were,
glutted with the sight of his miseries and torments, she de-
termined presently to rid him of his calamities, herself of
irksomeness, and her adulterer from fear, and so, by certain
special persons thereto appointed, she caused him to be poy-
soned, that being absent from her, he might so die with
less suspicion. But of the poyson I will say more in ano-
ther place.
When this practice framed not fully to her desire, she
goeth herself to Glasgow, that whom being absent she
could not kill, she might herself in presence satisfy both her
cruel heart and her eyes with sight of his present mi-
series. And, as if herself alone were not sufficient to exe-
cute the cruel tormenting- of him, she bringeth into his
sight ministers of her heinous doings, and his ancient natural
enemies, and with these outrages travelled to vex his soul
at his last breath. But wherefore gather we arguments, as
in a doubtful case, when she herself will not suffer us to
doubt at all ? She, the Queen herself, I say, openly pro-
tested, not to her lover in bed, not among her confederates
in secret chambers, nor before few and mean persons of
estate, apt to flattery, constrained by poverty, or of purpose
affectioned; she herself, I say, openly confessed, that she
could not live one good day, if she were not rid of the
T
138 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
King; and that not once, nor unadvisedly, but in pre-
sence of those personages whom she used to call to counsel
in the weightiest affairs. For it cannot be said, unadvisedly
slipped from her, that was so oft spoken, in so many, so far
distant places, with tears always added, to move credit, be-
fore men notable, both for their nobility, wealth and wisdom,
and wherein she declared her own opinion, practised to win
their assent, and hearkened for their advices. But be it that
she forged all these things : be it that her tears were feigned ;
let them not believe it that heard it ; let the greatness of
the outrage make the report uncredible. I myself also
would gladly be one of that number, to think these things
uttered by her, rather to groap the minds of others, than
that she herself so thought in her heart, if it were not so,
that the thing itself confirmeth the report, that the outragi-
ousness of the doings far surmounteth all bitterness of ut-
terance.
When he was preparing to depart from Glasgow, she
caused poison to be given him. You will ask, by whom ?
In what manner? What kind of poison? Where had
she it ? Ask you these questions ? As though wicked
Princes ever wanted ministers of their wicked treacheries.
But still you press me perhaps, and still you ask me who be
these ministers ? First, that poisoned he was, it is certainly
known : for though the shamelessness of men would not
stick to deny a thing so manifest, yet the kind of disease >
strange, unknown to the people, unacquainted with phy-
sicians, especially such as had not been in Italy and Spain,
black pimples breaking out over all his body, grievous
aches in all his limbs, and intolerable stink disclosed it. If
this cause were to be pleaded before grave Cato the Censor,
all this were easy for us to prove before him that was per-
s waded, that there is no adul tress, but the same is also a
poisoner. Need we seek for a more substantial witness than
Cato, every of whose sentences antiquity esteemed as so
many oracles? Shall we not in a manifest thing believe
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 139
him whose credit hath in things doubtful so oft prevailed ?
Lo here a man of singular uprightness, and of the most nota-
ble faithfulness and credit, beareth witness against a woman
burning in hatred of her husband, and in love with an
adulterer, and in both these diseases of corrupt affections
unbridled, untemperable by her estate, raging by her
power, and indulgently following the wantonness of her
wealth.
But let us omit old and discussed things, and let us
sever the credit of inconstant multitudes from the ease
of Princes. Let us in so great a matter admit no witness,
in whom either his estate may be suspected, or his man-
ners may be blamed. What witnesses then shall we use ?
For by this condition, we may bring forth none under the
royal degree of a King or a Queen.
But such vile acts are not wont to be committed by
noble and good men, but by lewd and wicked Ministers.
Howbeit that herein also the most precise may be satisfied,
go to, let us bring forth a royal witness. Read her own
letter ; her letter (I say) written with her own hand.
What mean these words ? " He is not much deformed,
and yet he hath received much." Whereof hath he " re-
ceived much ?" The thing itself, the disease, the pimples,
the savor do tell you. Even that much he received, that
brought deformity, forsooth, very poison. But her letters
name not poison. This is sufficient for me, that it is there said,
that " though he received much, he is not much deformed,"
or, "though he be not much deformed, yet he received
much." What meaneth this word "yet?" What else but
this, that whatsoever it was that he received, the same
was the cause of his deformity, which though it were
much, yet was it not so much as to work such deformity
as was desired. But be it, it were not poison. What
then was it else? You can find nothing that can with
convenience of reason be named in place of it. Finally,
whatsoever it be that is meant by this word " much," it
140 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
is such, as she herself, in so secret and familiar a letter,
dare not call by the right name. Yea, and though we
would shift it off by cavillous expounding-, yet she her-
self will not suffer us. Compare that which went be-
fore with that which followeth, and by her device and
purpose for time to come, ye shall easily understand, what
it is that she hath done in time past. First she saith, it is
needful that he be " purged ;" then she determineth to carry
him to Cragmillar, where both the pnysicians, and (which
is more dangerous than any physician) she herself may be
present. Finally, she asketh counsel of Bothwell, whether
he can devise any secreter way by medicine, than that at
Cragmillar, and after a bath. See how all things hang
together. " He hath received much, he must be purged,"
and at Cragmillar ; that is, in a desolate corner, in a place,
by reason of small resort, very apt for a mischief to be
committed. " And medicine he must use/' and what,
forsooth ? Even the same whereof he had before received
much. How shall that appear ? She will have the man-
ner of ministring the medicine to be secret. If it be to
heal him, what needs that secrecy? Why is it not ad-
ministred openly, in a known and populous place? Now
he is eased of his sickness, lusty and healthy, why is he
purged in an unusual manner, and in an uninhabited
corner? But perhaps it was a strange kind of disease, it
had need of strange remedies.
What physicians then called she to counsel ? To whom
is this charge committed to seek out a medicine and curing
for the King? Forsooth, to the King's enemy, to the
Queen's adulterer, the vilest of all two-footed beasts, whose
house was in France defamed for poisoning, and whose
servants were there for the same cause, some tortured,
some imprisoned, and all suspected. When was he ap-
pointed to receive this noble medicine ? Either at his
bathing, where he should wash alone, or after his bathing
where he should sup alone, So forsooth are medicines
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 141
accustomed to be provided by enemies, in a secret place,
without witnesses. That therefore while an adulterer, an
adulteress, and the partner of his wife's body, curiously
prepareth, and secretly ministreth ; what medicine this is,
let every man with himself weigh and consider.
By this time, I suppose, you see the hatred of the Queen,
how unappeaseable, how outrageously cruel, how obsti-
nate it was against her husband, whom she thrust among
thieves, whom she practised to match in feud and battle
with the nobility and with her brethren, who were both
naked and poor, loden with despights, vexed with railings,
assailed with poison, she drove him away into a solitary
corner, there to die with the extremest torment. Now let
us proceed to the other causes.
This hatred itself was of itself sufficient to prick her
forward to her enemies slaughter, often sought, once at-
tempted, and almost atchieved. Yet was there besides, a
stronger enforcement, itself able to enflame her hatred, I
mean the love wherewith she intemperately fancied Both-
well : Which love, whosoever saw not, and yet hath seen
him, will, perhaps, think it incredible. For what was
there in him, that was of a woman of any honest coun-
tenance to be desired ? Was there any gift of eloquence,
or grace of beauty, or virtue of mind, garnished with
the benefits, which we call, of fortune ? As for his elo-
quence and beauty, we need not say much, sith they that
have seen him can well remember both his countenance,
his gate, and the whole form of his body, how gay it was :
they that have heard him, are not ignorant of his rude
utterance and blockishness. But you will say, he was in
executing attempts, wise and politic; in adventuring of
perils, hardy and valiant ; in free-giving, liberal ; in use of
pleasures, temperate. For wisdom, even they that be most
affectionate unto him, dare not charge him with it. Of
valiantness indeed he laboured to win some estimation, but
among horsemen, on a swift steed well mounted, well
provided for his own safety ; a beholder of other men's
142 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
fighting, sometime hardly chasing them that fled; but
his face toward him near at hand, he never durst abide.
— Will ye have an example of his excellent valiantness ?
Of a thief, a notable coward, whom being- yielding", and
unawares he had deadly wounded, he was thrown down to
the ground, hurt, bruised with dry strokes, and had been
quite slain, if the poor thief s strength, being ready to die,
had not failed him. I could rehearse his glorious vain
brag-geries in France, I could tell of his last fearful flight as
far as to Denmark ; but I had rather rub up the remem-
brance of that day, when the Queen forsaking him, came to
the nobility, that protested to revenge the slaughter of the
King. The armies stood ready in array, Bothwell in num-
ber of men was equal, in place had the advantag-e ; there
stood before him, to be his reward, being vanquisher, a
Queen much fancying, and entirely loving him ; a king-
dom, wealth, and honour, for him and his posterity ;
moreover, impunity for his offences past, extream liberty
to do what he list for time to come, ability to advance his
friends, and be revenged of his enemies : and on the other
side, if he were vanquished, dishonour, poverty, and ba-
nishment; finally, all things that thereafter happen'd, or
hereafter may happen, were then before his eyes. There
were also present, beside the two armies, beholders and
witnesses of each man's valiantness and cowardice, the
Queen the price of the battel, and Monsieur de Crock, the
embassador of France. Now you look to hear how this
magnifical boaster of valiantness did acquit himself. First,
being mounted upon an excellent horse, he came bravely
before the army. There the man, forsooth, very sparing of
his countrymen's blood, and lavisfrof his own, calleth for
one to try it with him by combat, man to man ; and when
there were many on the other side, of honourable birth
and estates, that offered to accept the combat, by and by,
his violent heat cooFd, and his glorious speech quailed ;
and had it not been that the Queen, as it were some god
out of a ginn in p. tragedy, had by her authority taken up
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 143
the matter, and forbidden her pretty venerous pigeon to
give battel, he had faiPd to find, not only a mean, but also
an honest colour to refuse to fight, and so the combat was
interrupted ; yet in the joyned battel he behaved himself
so valiantly. Forsooth, the first man, almost at the be-
ginning, and alone he ran his way, and so at length drew
the rest of his part to flee after him.
But his defaults in martial feats, perhaps the man was
supplied with civil virtues: alas! what were they? or
what virtues could be looked for in him ? A man for the
most part brought up in the Bishop Murray's palace, to wit,
a most wicked corrupt house, in drunkenness and whore-
doms, amongst other vile ministers of dissolute misorder.
After that he was grown towards man's estate, at dice,
and among harlots, he so wasted a most goodly large reve-
nue of his inheritance, that (as the poet saith) at his need
he had not left wherewith to buy him a halter to hang him-
self. He, I say, that defiled not only other men's houses
with cuckoldry, but also his own with incestuous villainy.
This man, therefore, when I say to have been beloved
of the Queen, and not only loved, but also outrageously
and intemperately loved, they that know it not, will, per-
adventure, think, that I tell wonders. But some man, per-
haps, will say, was there none other in all the troop of
the youth of nobility, beside him, more worthy to be be-
loved? Certainly, there were very many. And one there
was, in all things that were wont to allure love, of all
other most excellent, even her own husband. What was
it then that joyned so unequal love, and so far against rea-
son ? If I shall say it was likeness of conditions, I shall
name a likely cause of love, though to some men, perchance,
it may seem an untrue cause of their love. Neither am I
willing to enter into that discourse. Neither do I affirm the
rumours spread of her in France, in time of her first mar-
riage: howbeit the wickednesses of the rest of her life
make some proof that they rose not all of nothing. And
144 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
many things that have been noised of her since her return
into Scotland, I have no mind to believe. As for my
part, I am content they be buried in forgetfulness, or if
that cannot be, let them be taken for false and feigned.
Neither is it necessary over-curiously to examine causes in
love, which is usually so carried with a rash violent motion of
a muddy and troubled mind, that for the most part it endeth in
madness, which if ye labour to govern by discreet advice,
ye do nothing else but as if ye should endeavour to be mad
with reason. But yet here there want no causes, for there
was in them both a likeness, if not of beauty, nor out-
ward things, nor of virtues, yet of most extream vices. She
a young woman, suddenly advanced to the highest degree
of authority, when she had never seen with her eyes,
heard with her ears, nor considered in her heart, the form
of a kingdom governed by law, and thereto was furnished
with the untemperate counsels of her kinsmen, who them-
selves practised to set up a tyrannous rule in France, endea-
voured to draw rig-ht, equity, laws, and customs of ances-
tors to her only beck and pleasure.
Of this immoderate desire, there burst out from her
many times, many words disclosing it. This she studied day
and night ; but against this desire, there withstood the cus-
* torn of the country, the laws and statutes, and principally
the consent of the nobility, who remaining safe, she could
never attain it. To the end therefore that she might be
able violently to atchieve it, she determined by force to re-
move all that stood in her way. But she wist not well by
what means, or by whose help to attempt it.
Fraud was the way to work it, for otherwise it was not
possible to be obtained. For this purpose, therefore,
Both well only seemed the fittest man, a man in extream
poverty, doubtful whether he were more vile or wicked,
and who between factions of sundry religions, despising
both sides, counterfeited a love of them both. He, when
he had once before offered the Hamiltons his service to mur-
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 145
der the Earl Murray, gave thereby a likelihood, that upon
hope of greater gain, he would not stick to adventure some
greater enterprise, being- one whom the ruin of his own
decayed family prick'd forward headlong to mischief, and
whom no respect of Godliness or honesty restrained from
ungracious actions. As for excessive and immoderate use
of lechery, he therein no less sought to be famous, than
other men do shun dishonour and infamy. She, therefore,
a woman greedily coveting untempered authority, who es-
teem'd the laws her prison, and the bridle of justice her
bondage, when she saw in her husband not metal enough
to trouble the state, she picked out a man for her purpose,
who neither had wealth to lose, nor fame to be stained ;
even such an one as she might easily overthrow again, if
she should once grow weary of him ; such a one as she
might easily snare his incontinence with wanton allure-
ments, satisfy his need with money, and bind his assured-
ness to her with a guilty conscience, confederate in mis-
chiefs. These be the fountains of that same, not unmea-
surable, but mad love, infamous adultery, and vile patri-
cide, wherewith, as with a pledge, that bloody marriage
was plighted. These therefore were the causes of enter-
prizing that heinous act, to wit, unappeasable hatred of her
husband, and intemperate love of her adulterer. There
was, moreover, a hope, that the crime might be diverted
from them to other, and the execution for it might be laid
upon the poor lives of their enemies, and that men most
guiltless of the fault might be thrust in their place, as sa-
crifices to appease the people's displeasure : if not, to what
end then served that battel which was almost begun to be
fought between the King and the Lord Robert, her bro-
ther ? To what end tended those seeds of discord that were
scattered between the King and the nobility ? Wherefore
did she so curiously intreat the Earl Murray to stay with
her the day before the murder was committed ? Or what
cause was there to send for him ? There was an embassa-
u
146 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
dour come out of Savoy. For what cause ? Surely it
must needs be a great cause, and such as could not be ended
without the assembly of the nobility. No, God wot. The
embassadour of Savoy, being bidden to late to the christ-
ening-, came when all was ended, not for an embassadour
to the christening-, but as one sent to excuse the neglecting
of doing- that kindness, when both he liked not to send so
far for so small a matter, and he was somewhat ashamed to
have failed in presence, when the Frenchmen and English-
men had already done it. For the more honourable dismis-
sing of him, the Earl Murray was sent for, and that with
sundry messengers, to come from his wife that lay a-dying.
What need was there then of his presence ? To draw him
to be a party in conspiracy of the slaughter ? Why was it
never attempted before ? Thought they it best then at the
last point, at the very instant when the murder should be
committed, to joyn him to their fellowship, as alight man,
inconstant, and shifting his purposes at every moment of
time, infamous in his former life, and not well assured in
his present estate? No, there is none of these things that
yet dare say of him.
Seeing then they cannot immagine a false cause to stay
him, what was the true cause indeed every man may easily
gather ; even the same that caused first the Earl of At hoi,
and afterwards him to depart from the court ; the same that
so brought him in danger of death ; the same that had
slander'd him with false rumours scattered in England ; the
same that persecuted him with infam ous libels of the mur-
derers themselves ; the same that made him to chuse rather
to go into banishment, than to remain in court among ruf-
fians' weapons, with great peril of his life.
But what availeth this equity of the cause before hearers,
either utterly ignorant of the matter how it was done, or of
themselves dissevouring this part ; are envious, or apt to be
carried away with feigned rumours; which esteem the
slanders of most lewd slight persons for true testimonies,
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 147
and give credit to these men, who boasting- at home, that
they are able to do what they list, yet neither dare commit
their cause to the sentence of the judges, nor were able to
defend themselves in battel ? And as by a guilty conscience
of offences they feared judgment ; so by rage, grown of their
guiltiness, they run headlong to battel, and from battel run
cowardly away: And now again, when standing upon the
advantage that they have both in number and wealth, they
scorn the wisdom of their adversaries, and despise their
power in comparison of their own ; yet distrusting to pre-
vail by true manhood, they fall to robbery, and turn their
ungracious minds to slandering, cavelling, and lying, whom
but yet for the good will that I bear to my countrymen, I
would advise to cease from this folly, or fury, or disease of
evil speaking, lest in time to come, when truth shall shine
out, they shut up and stop with hatred of them those persons'
ears to their petitions, whom now they fill and load with
false, rumours, for there will not always be place for for-
giveness ; but as darkness at the sun shining, so lies at the
light of truth must vanish away.
As for the commodious means for committing that vile
fact, and the hope of hiding it, I need not to pursue the de-
claring of them in many words, sith both the easiness to do
it, the opportunities of places, and all advancements of oc-
casions and seasons were in their own power : and to hide
the fact, what needed they ? When they feared no punish-
ment although it were published; for what punishment
could they fear in so strong a conspiracy, when both the
force of laws, whereof themselves were governors, was ut-
terly extinguished, and the minds of the most part of men
were either snared with partnership of the mischievous fact,
or carried with hope, or forestalled with rewards, or dis-
couraged and bridled with fear of so great a power on the
other part ? But howsoever this be, yet it will be good to
see throughly both the order of the doing, the unadvised-
ness, inconstancy, and end of their devises. For thereby
MS LOVE LETTERS OF [bucha:
shall ye perceive, thai there wanted riot desire to hide the
fact, but that the fury of a distracted mind overthrew all
the order of their counsels, while sometime, as desirous to
g ile public fame, they endeavoured to keep close their
intended mischief, yet they dealt therein so openly, as care-
jess of their estimation, they seemed to make small account
how men judged of their doings. For at his preparing- to
go to Glasgow, the poison was given him secretly, and they
thought they had sufficiently well provided that he should
In his absence from them, be ransomed with pining sick-
But the rest of their dealings towards him were so cruelly
handled, thai though his disease should have happened to
be natural, yet it would have been suspected for poisoning.
For he, her husband, the father of her only and first-born
child; the father. I say. of that son, whose christning was
solemnised with that great pomp and glory , being escaped
away, in a manner, naked out of his boose flaming in fire,
tormented by the way with grievous pain, when he lay at
Gl 3gow, of a dangerous sickness, likely to die, what did
his excellent good wife the while? What did she? At the
first news of it aid she haste to him in post I Doth she with
her presence, with her friendly familiar speech, or with her
loving countenance comfort him in sickness ? When she
cannot stay him in life, cometh she to receive his last breath !
Closeth she his eyes at his dying? Doth she the other kind
duties of honest matrons? No. But she that had now let
him escape to go and die, and hoped that he could not
linger out his unhappy life much longer, she goeth a quite
contrary way into another country in progress, and, with
her fair Adonis, she visiteth noblemen's houses, and staineth
the houses that harboured them with the spots of their un-
chastities : and just about the time of her husband's death
(as she guessed by the strength and working of the poyson)
she returns to Sterlin.
When the matter wrought not so fast as she expected,
bi'chanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. I49f
(for the strength of his youth had wrestled with the sore-
ness of his pain) lost she should sooni to have altogether
forsaken her duty, sho daily prepares to go to Glasgow, but
never goeth. At the last, disappointed o( the hope that
she had conceived in her heart, she taketh herself to other
devices. She cometh to Edinburgh, and there calleth to
counsel her adulterer, and a few other, privy o( those se-
crets; there they decree, that in any wise the Ring' must
bo slain. Yet wore they not fully advised with what kind
of death he should be murdered] which may easily be ga-
thered by her letter, wherein sho partly comparoth herself
to Medea, a bloody woman, and a poysoning witch. Also
by another of her letters, wherein sho asketh advise about
the poysoning- o( him. The King, who had already tasted
of her lovely cup. doubting whether he were better any
more to believe her Battering speeches, or to fear the shrewd-
ness of her nature, though sometimes he despaired not o(
her reconciliation, yet was evermore fearful and suspicious.
Hut when he saw that neither his life nor his death were in
his power, he was constrained to purse up his past injuries,
to dissemble his present fear, and to feign himself some
hopes for time to come. So was he led out. not as a hus-
band, but carried out as a corpse, or rather drawn, as it
were, to the shambles. The Queen, gloriously shewing
herself in pompous manner, goeth before in triumph over
the young' gentleman vexed with all kind of miseries, tor-
mented with pOVSOn, entrapped with treasons, and drawn
to execution. There follows after the triumphant car, the
ancient enemies to his father's house, brought thither on
purpose, that they also might feed their eyes with that
woful spectacle ; and whoso death, at hand, they looked
for. they might in the meantime take pleasure of the sorrow
of his heart. And. that no ceremony of solemn sacrifices
might be wanting-. John Hamilton, Archbishop of St. An-
drews, was present as their priest, a man before defiled with
all kind of wickedness, pampered with the spoils and inur-
150 LOVE LETTERS OF [bbchanan.
ders of his countrymen, an old conqueror of many murder-
ing victories. The people all along- the way, looking pi-
teously, shewed a foretelling of no good luck to come.
The Queen's companions could neither tell their sadness,
nor hide their gladness ; when the heinous outrage of the
vile fact intended, held their unmeasurable joy in sus-
pence, upon expectation of the success. Thus led they
him to Edinburgh, not into the Queen's palace. Why so ?
Lest the infection of the pestilent disease, forsooth, might
hurt her young son ; as though they that be poysoned were
also to be shunned for fear of infection. But the truer
cause was this, lest his presence should trouble them, in
interrupting their free enjoying their pleasures, and their
consultations about his murder. Whither then is he led ?
Into the most desolate part of the town, sometime inhabited,
while the popish priest's kingdom lasted, but for certain
years past without any dweller ; in such a house, as of itself
would have fallen down, if it had not been botched up for
the time to serve the turn of this night's sacrifice. Why
was this place chiefly chosen ? They pretended the whole-
someness of the air. O good God ! going "about to murder
her husband, seeketh she for a wholesome air ? To what
use ? Not to preserve his life, but to reserve his body to
torment. Hereto tend her wifely, diligent attendance, and
her last care of her husband's life. She feareth lest he
should, by preventing death, be delivered from pain, she
would fain have him feel himself die. But let us see what
manner of wholesomeness of air it is. Is it among dead
men's graves to seek the preserving of life ? For hard by
there were the ruins of two churches : on the east side a
monastry of Dominic fryars : on the west a church of our
lady; which, for the desolateness of the place, is called
" The church in the field:" on the south-side the town-
wall ; and in the same, for commodious passage every way,
is a postern-door : on the north-side are a few beggars' cot-
tages, ready to fall, which sometime served for stews for
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
certain priests and monks, the name of which pteu doth
plainly disclose the form and nature thereof, for it s com-
monly called " Thieve's Lane." There is neveif) mother
house near, but the Hamilton's house, which i^bout a
stone's cast distant, and that also stood void. T>her re-
moveth the Archbishop of St. Andrews, who a/ays be-
fore was used to lodge in the most populous pa* of the
town : He also watched all that night that thj&ng was
slain. Now I beseech you, sith you cannot wil/ 7 ° ur eyes,
yet at least with your minds, behold a house ply of old
priests, among graves, between the ruins of /° temples,
itself also ruinous, near to the thieve's haunt, r itself a re-
ceiver of thieves, not far from the fort and gpson of his
enemies, that stood right over-against the do j by which,
if any man should flee out, he could not es >e their trai-
terous ambushment. The very shape of tK J l ac e, when
you consider it in your mind, when you he^ the ruins of
churches, graves of dead men, lurking cc rs °f thieves,
brothel-houses of harlots ; doth not, I saP°t the house
only, but also every part near about it, p to proclaim
mischief and treachery ? Seemeth here a 'S to have gone
into a house for lodging, or to be thrust ir den of thieves ?
Was not that desolate wasteness, that u oite d place, able
of itself to put simple men in fear, to my viser men suspi-
tious, and to give wicked men shre ocasions? What
meant his enemies, unwonted repair f those parts, and
watching all night, in manner, h^t his gate? Why
chose he now this place for his lod^ a g am st his former
usage? the house ye will say was ffl> an ^ his brother's
house, and near to the King' lodgirf * was empty long
before ; why lodged you never if before ? Why for-
sook you the populous places in t/ eart °f the city, and
nearness to the court, and thrust/' se ^ mt o a desolate
corner ? What profit, what commA wna t pleasure herein
respect you? Was it your mea/ that you, being one
that ever had been a greedy c/ r of popular fame, and
152 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
catcrr of courtiers with baits of good ehear, now would
of ycr own accord go hide yourself in a blind hole out of
all cnpany and -resort? that you, rather overwhelmed
than den with plenty of benefices, went thither to de-
light ,ur heart in the mine of temples? But be it that
your caing thither was but by chance, and that you had
some esses to go thither, though not true, yet somewhat
likely.
Wha eant your unwonted watching all night? What
meant ti Tearful murmurings of your servants that night,
whom y^ that public tumult you commanded not once
to stir ouY doors? But what cause had they to go out?
Was it to^ve understanding of the matter whereof your-
self were> author and deviser? No, for out of your own
watch-to\ ; you heard with your ears the noise of the
ruin, you v the smoak and ashes with your eyes, you
drank up t] y thereof in your heart, and the savour of
the gunpo vr you in a manner snuffed up at your nose.
Perhaps you a nt to send out some to receive them that
fled ; but yt&w no men flee. And therefore the lights
that were s< ou t of the highest part of your house all
the night lo were, as upon the lucky ending of the
thing that yo\ D k e d for, even then suddenly put out.
But let us , m to the King. They thought it not
enough to hav , pen the postern in the wall, to let in
thieves thereat t to have set an ambush before the door,
that none shou sca pe, but also they kept with them-
selves the keys t >70 doors, the one of the lower room,
where they had > rm i ne d the wall, and filled the holes
with gunpowder | t he other of the upper room, that
the murderers mii ome to the King in his bed. Then of
those few servant^ ^ e h a d, they withdrew the greater
number, being sue were before set about him, not so
much to do him sei as to be spies of his secrets, and
carry news to the (^ The last that was left, one Alex-
ander Durain, whei^^ ^ R( j no reasonable excuse to
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 153
depart was thrust out by the Queen herself. She in the
mean time, meaning- not to fail in playing- her part, while
Bothwell is in preparing the tragical stage for the murder,
daily visiteth the King, his heart passioned with love,
sometimes she comforteth with sweet promises, sometimes
she vexeth with brawlings, and still keepeth his wit occu-
pied with suspicions, and rightly representeth in action the
poet's fable, wherein is feigned, that Prometheus his liver
daily growing to invent new torment, is daily knawn and
preyed upon by an eagle. For after the very same manner,
sometimes she cherisheth and refresheth the silly young
gentleman, to no other end, but that he may have life
remaining to suffer more sorrows.
Now, I beseech you every one, think with yourselves
upon the fresh doing of the fact, how men's hearts were
moved, when even now these things cannot be heard re-
ported without indignation. There was provided by the
most wicked man in the world, by his enemy, by his wife's
adulterer, a house, in manner severed from all concourse of
people, litter for a slaughter-house, than for man's dwel-
ling: it is provided for a young gentleman, unprovident by
youth, easie to be trapped in treason by love, spoiled of his
servants, forsaken of his friends: a house (I say) torn, soli-
tary on every side, not also unclose, but open to pass
through, the keys thereof in his enemies custody, no man
left within but a young man, not yet recovered of sickness,
and an old man feeble by age, and two strangers unac-
quainted with the places, matter and persons, no man
dwelling near but his enemies and thieves. But as for dan-
ger of thieves, the good fore-casting woman had well pro-
vided, for she had left him nothing to allure a thief withal
and as for his enemies, she had appointed them to be but
lookers-on, and not part-players in this tragedy ; but the
glory of the fact she reserved to herself and Bothwell.
What in the mean time doth the Queen's great careful-
x
154 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
ness ? What meaneth her unwonted resort ? What her
malicious, and not obsequious diligence ? She visiteth him
daily, she prolongeth her talk with him many hours toge-
ther, two nights she resteth in a lower chamber under him,
(if guilty conscience of most heinous doings can from tor-
ments of furies suffer that outrageous heart to rest at all).
She feared much, lest if the lower place of the house were
left empty, the noise of the underminers working, and of
the bringers-in of the powder, should bring some of the
servants into some suspition of the treachery. Beside, she
had a mind to see the thing done herself, rather than to
commit it to the trust of any other. She had a desire to
take a foretaste of the joy to come, and when she could not
with her ears, yet at least with her heart, to conceive
aforehand the fire, the smoak, the powder, the crack of
the house falling, the fearful trouble, the tumult, the con-
fused dismaidness of the doers, the thieves, and the people.
All things thus prepared for that doleful night, then entreth
she into the last care of her good fame : she endeavoureth
to divert all suspicions from her, she goeth to her husband,
she kisseth him, she giveth him a ring for a pledge of her
love, she talketh with him more lovingly than she was
wont to do, and promiseth more largely, she feineth that
she had a great care of his health, and yet her companying
with her adulterer she surceaseth not.
They that more nearly noted these things, prognosticated
no good thing to come. For how much greater tokens that
the Queen shewed of reconciled affection, so much the
more cruelty did every man in his heart fore-conceive of all
her intentions. For else, whence cometh that sudden
change, so great care for him w T hom she had poysoned the
month before, whom even lately she not only wished dead,
but desired to see him die ; whose death she set her brother,
yea, both her brethren to procure : and she, like a master
of mischief, thrust forth the King to fight, and herself in
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 155
the mean time prepared for his burial ? Not past a few
months before, she herself was desirous to die, because
she loathed to see the King 1 alive. Whence cometh now
this sudden care of his health ? I looked she should say she
was reconciled to him. Were you reconciled to your hus-
band, whom you sent away into that desart, that camp of fu-
ries, as the poet calleth it ? For whom among- brothel-
houses of harlots, among- beggars' cottages, among thieves'
lurking--holes, you prepared a house so open to pass throug-h,
that you left therein more entries than men to shut them !
You that allured and assembled ruffians to his slaug-hter, and
thieves to his spoil ? You that drove away his servants that
should have defended his life ? You that thrust him out
naked, alone, unarmed, among- thieves, in dang-er to be
slain ? When in all this miserable state of your husband,
your adulterer in the meantime dwelt in your palace, daily
haunted your chamber, day and nig-ht all doors were open
for him, whilst your poor husband, debarred all company of
the nobility, his servants forbidden to come at him, or sent
away from him, was forsaken and thrust away into a solita-
ry desart, for a mocking- stock, and I would to God it had
been for a mocking stock only? Of his other servants
I enquire not. I do not curiously question why they went
away, why they then especially forsook the King-, when
he chiefly needed their help and service, when he was new-
ly recovered ? When he began to g-o abroad, and had no
other company. Of Alexander Duram I cannot keep
silence, whom you had for his keeper, and your spy.
What was there for him to espy ? Was there any thing- for
him to bring- news of to an honest matron, loving- to her
husband, faithful in wedlock, and fearful of a partner of
his love? Feared she lest he, a young gentleman, beauti-
ful, and a king, should cast wanton eyes upon some other
woman in her absence ? No, God wot. For that was it
that she most desired. For she herself had practised to al-
lure him thereto before, she herself had offered him the
156 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
occasions, and of herself shewed him the means. This
was it that most grieved her, while she was seeking"
causes of divorce, that she could not find in him so much
as any slender suspition of adultery. Why then were
spies set about him to watch him ? Was it not that none
of the nobility, none of his servants, nor any stranger at
all should come at him, that no man should speak with
him, that might disclose the treason, and forewarn him
of his danger? This same very Alexander, how care-
fully she saveth, when she goeth about to kill her
husband? How late she sendeth him away, when the
rest were gone, even at the very point of her hus-
band's death, when she had now no more need of
espials ? For the day before the murder was committed,
there was none of the ministers that were privy to her se-
cret counsels left behind, but only Alexander. He, when
he saw that night, no less doleful than shameful, to ap-
proach, prepareth, as himself thought, a fine subtle excuse
to be absent, so as rather chance might seem to have
driven him out, than he himself willing* to have forsaken
his master. He puttetn fire in his own bed-straw, and
when the flame spread further, he made an out-cry, and
threw his bedding*, half singed, out of the King's cham-
ber. But the next day, when that excuse served not so
handsomely as he desired, for that in the Queen's hearing,
the King very sweetly entreated him not to leave him
alone that night, and also desired him to lie with himself,
as he had often used to do, for the King entirely loved him
above all the rest ; Alexander in perplexity, wanting what
to answer, added to his first excuse, fear of sickness, and
pretended, that for commodious taking of physic for his
health, he would lie in the town. When this would not
yet serve him, the Queen added authority, and told the
King, that he did not well to keep the young man with him
against the order of his health, and therewithal she
turned to Alexander, and bade him go where was best for
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 157
him : and forthwith, as soon as the word was spoken, he
went his way. I will not here precisely trace out all
the footing's of these wicked doings ; neither will I cu-
riously enquire, whether that former days fire were hap-
pened by casualty, or kindled by fraud. Neither will I
ask why he that had so often been received to lie in the
King's own bed, doth now this only night specially refuse
it. Let us suppose that sickness was the cause thereof.
This only one thing I ask, what kind of sickness it was,
that came upon him at that very instant, and before morn-
ing left him again, without any physician's help, and
whereof neither before, nor since, nor at that present,
there ever appeared any token ? But I trust, though he
hold his peace, ye all sufficiently understand it. In the
man guilty in conscience of the mischievous intention, fear
of death overcame regard of duty. Had it not been that
Alexander, before-time a spy and tale-bearer, now a
forsaker and betrayer of his master, was joyned to her in
privity of all these wicked doings, would not the Queen,
so cruel in all the rest, have found in her heart to bestow
that one sacrifice upon her husband's funerals ? While these
things were in doing, the night was far past, and my
Lady Rerese, a lusty valiant souldieress, before sign given,
cometh forth into the field out of array, abroad she goeth,
getteth her to horse-back, and though she were somewhat
afraid, as one that foreknew the storm to come, yet she
sate still upon her horse, tarrying for the Queen, but yet a
good pretty way from the house. In the mean time Paris
cometh. Then the communication brake, and they rose
to depart. For, by and by, upon sight of him came to
her remembrance that heinous offence, that without great
propitiation could not be purged ; forsooth, that the Queen
had not danced at the wedding-feast of Sebastian the
minstrel and vile jester, that she sate by her husband,
who had not yet fully recovered his health, that at the
banquet of her domestical parasite, she had not played
158 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
the dancing" skit. A matter surely worthy of excuse. But
what should she else do ? She must needs go, as soon as
she saw Paris ; for so it was agreed, and somewhat must
needs be pretended. How happened it that the other
nights before, when she went away earlier, she made no
excuse at all, and now her departure about midnight,
must needs have an excuse alledged ? But be it so, could
she remember no better excuse than Sebastian's wedding ?
No, no, I say to the contrary, that if she had left the
wedding of her own natural brother, or her sister, to visit
her husband, though but a little erased, she had had a
just excuse before all men so to do. What if she had
done the same kindness for the King, being not her hus-
band, or for any other of the nobility. Is Sebastian's wed-
ding of such a value, that a masking dance thereat is to be
preferred before a wife's duty and love ? But surely in this
curious excusing and pretended sorrow of neglected duty,
somewhat lieth hidden, and yet not so hidden, but that it
appeareth through the closure.
This overmuch preciseness of diligence, excusing where
no need is, hath some suspicion of some secret mischief that
you are loath to have disclosed, and the slightness of the ex-
cuse, encreaseth the suspicion, especially when there
were other matters enough that she might better have
alledged: but let us admit the excuse, since the Queen
herself hath thought it reasonable ; whither then goeth
she? straight into her chamber. What doth she next?
wearied with the day's travel, and the night's watching,
goeth she to bed ? No ; but she falleth to talking with
Both well first almost alone, and afterward alone altoge-
ther. What talk she had, the matter itself declareth : for
Bothwell, after that he had put off his cloaths, as if he
would have gone to bed, by and by putteth on other ap-
parel. Going to do the deed, he would not be known. I
like well the man's policy. But his way was to go
through the watch. Here I marvel at his madness. But
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 159
men's wits beset with guiltiness of mischiefs, do commonly
bewray themselves by their own inconstancy, and blind to
all other thing's, do see only that which they have bent
their mind unto. What he did, the King's death, his own
running- away, the confessions of the guilty persons, and
other things that followed the murder, do declare. After
the great uproar in the town about it, he, as one utterly ig-
norant of all, returneth through the same watch to bed.
When noise of the ruin had filled all men's ears, and the
crack of it had shaken all the houses, only the Queen inten-
tive to expectation of the chance, and broad awake, heareth
nothing at all , and Both well heareth nothing. O marvellous
deafness ! All other throughout the town, as many as were
awake were afraid, and as many as slept were awaked. At the
last, Both well riseth again, and in the self-same enterlude, by
suddenly shifting from the poet, becometh a messenger, he
runneth to the Queen, and thither resorted many others also
that lodged in the palace. To some the matter seemed true,
to some feigned, to some marvellous. What doth the Queen
the whilst ? What should she do ? She temperately broodeth
good luck, she resteth sweetly till the next day at noon :
yet, the day following, to observe decorum, and comely
convenience on her part, without marring the play, she
counterfeiteth a mourning ; which yet neither her joy-
fulness dwelling withal in heart suffereth long to be feigned,
nor shame permitteth to be wholly neglected. These things
thus lying open before your eyes, thus palpable with hands,
thus fast imprinted in men's ears and knowledge, stand we
yet enquiring for the author of the murder, as though it
were doubtful ? But ye say, the Queen denieth it. What
denieth she ? forsooth, that she did the murder : as though
there were so great a difference, if one should be the author,
or the executioner ; yet he commands it, and commits it :
she gave her counsel, her furtherance, her power and au-
thority to the doing of it. Neither is the cause unknown
why she did it ; even that the same filthy marriage with
160 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
Bothwell might be accomplished. Though all which ar-
guments, and so many witnesses of them that were privy to
it failed ; yet by her own testimony, by her own letters, it
must needs be confessed. And though all other things wanted,
these things that followed the murder do plainly declare the
doer, namely, that at the slaughter of her husband she sor-
ro weth not, but quietly rested, as after a gay enterprize well
atchieved; that she mourned not, but in manner openly
joyed ; that she could abide, not only to look upon his
dead body, but also greedily beheld it ; that she secretly in
the night buried him without funeral pomp, or rather hid
him like a thief: for that same so inconstant counterfeiting
or mourning did plainly bewray itself. For what meant
that removing to Seton's ? Why shunned she the town's
resort, and people's eyes ? Was it because she was ashamed
to mourn openly ? or because she could not well cloak her
joy ? or secretly to give herself all to sorrow ? No, for at
Seton's she threw away all her disguised personage of
mourning ; she went daily into the fields among ruffians ;
and not only resorted to her former custom, but also affected
to exercise manly pastimes, and that among men, and
openly. So lightly she despised the opinion and speech of
her country. But I beshrew that same Killegree, and that
same Monsieur de Croc, that came upon her so unseason-
ably, and shewed to others her counterfeited person un-
vizzored. For had not they been, many things that were
done might have been denied, many things might have been
handsomely feigned, and much of the matter might have
been helped by forged rumours.
But they will say, there was a solemn enquiry for the
murder. Forsooth, by Bothwell himself principally, and
by some other that then laboured, and yet at this day do
labour to deliver the persons guilty thereof, from punish-
ment of law, and do now plainly shew what they then se-
cretly meant. But with what diligence, with what upright
severity was that enquiry handled? A few poor souls, the
1
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 161
next dwelling* neighbours to the King's lodging", being
called, neither durst tell what they had seen and heard, and
if they touched any thing near the matter, either they were
with fear put to silence, or despised as of no credit : the
wiser sort of them durst not offend Bothwell, that sate
among the judges. One or two of the King's servants that
escaped the mischance, were examined which way the mur-
derers came in. Forsooth, say they, we had not the keys ;
who then had them ? It was answered, that the Queen
had them. So began the secrets of the court to break out.
Then was that enquiry adjourned, and never recontinued.
What can be more severe and upright than this enquiry ?
and yet they prevailed nothing by it : for what the exami-
ners would have had kept secret, that the people cried out
openly ; that which they suppressed, burst forth ; and that
which they cloaked in secret, it breaketh out into broad
light. But there was a proclamation set forth, with pardon
of the fact, and promise of reward to him that would utter
it? Why? who had been so mad, that he durst, in so ma-
nifest peril of his life, bear witness, or give information
against the judges themselves, in whose power lay his life
and death ? It was likely, forsooth, that they which had
murdered a King, would spare him that should disclose the
murderer, especially when all men saw that the enquiry of
the King's slaughter was quite omitted, and the other en-
quiry severely pursued concerning books accusing the
slaughter. What manner of judgment it was whereby
Bothwell was acquitted, you have heard, Forsooth by
himself procured, the judges by himself chosen, the ac-
cusers by himself suborned, lawful accusers forbidden to be
present, unless they would yield their throats to their ene-
mies weapons ; the assizes appointed neither to a day, ac-
cording to the law of the land, nor after the manner of the
country ; nor to enquire of the murder of the King, but of
such a murder as was alledged to be committed the day be*
fore that the King was slain. Here, when Bothwell by
y
162 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
his friendship and power, and the Queen by prayer and
threatening travailing with the judges, do you now expect
what sentence men, chosen against law, and against the
custom of the land, have pronounced ? In their judgment,
they touched the matter nothing at all ; only this they have
declared, that it was no lawful judgment, in this, that with
a special protestation they provided, that it should not be
prejudicial to them in time to come. Then, that all men
might understand what it was that they sought by sword,
fire and poyson, they jumble up marriages ; one is divorced,
another is coupled, and that in such posting speed, as they
might scant have hasted to furnish a triumph of some noble
victory. Yet, that in these unlawful weddings some shew
of lawful order might be observed, the goodly banes were
openly proclaimed. For publishing whereof, though the
minister of the church was threatened with death if he did it
not, yet, at the time of his publishing, himself openly pro-
tested, that he knew cause of exception, why that marriage
was not lawful. But in such a multitude assembled, how
few were they that knew it not ? sith all could well re-
member that Bothwell had then alive two wives already
not yet divorced, and the third neither lawfully married,
nor orderly divorced. But that was not it that was intended,
to observe the ceremonies of lawful order ; but (as they do
use in enterludes) they provided a certain shew, or dis-
guised counterfeiting of common usage. For he that hath
oft broken all human laws, and hath cast away all consci-
ence and religion, could easily neglect the course of God's
law.
Now, I suppose, I have briefly declared (in respect of
the greatness of the matter) and yet perhaps in more words
than needed (the plainness of the proofs considered) of
what purpose, by what counsel, and upon what hope, that
heinous murder was attempted, with what cruelty it was
executed, by what tokens, advertisements, testimonies, and
letters of the Queen herself, the whole matter is proved,
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 1 63
and so plainly proved, that it may be as openly seen, as if it
lay before your eyes; yet will I shew forth the testimony
of the whole people, which I think worthy not to be
neglected : for several men do commonly deceive, and are
deceived by others, but no man deceiveth all men, nor is
deceived by all. The testimony of the people is this.
When at the Queen's going- abroad among the people, the
greatest part of the commons were wont to make acclama-
tions, wishing her well and happily, with such speeches as
either love enforceth, or flattery inventeth : now at her
going after the King's slaughter to the castle, through the
chief and most populous street of the town, there was all
the way a sad glooming silence. And when any woman
alone of the multitude had cryed, God save the Queen,
another by and by so cryed out, as all men might hear her ;
So be it to every one as they have deserved.
Albeit these things were thus done as I have declared, yet
there are some that stick not to say, that the Queen was
not only hardly, but also cruelly dealt with, that after so
detestable a fact, she was removed from her regency ; and
when they could not deny the fact, they complained of
the punishment. I do not think there will be any man so
shameless to think that so horrible a fact ought to have no
punishment at all. But if they complain of the grievous^
ness of the penalty, I fear least, to all good men, we may
seem not to have done so gently and temperately, as loosly
and negligently, that have laid so light a penalty upon an
offence so heinous, and such as was never heard of before.
For what can be done cruelly against the author of so out-
rageous a deed, wherein all laws of God and man are vio-
lated, despised, and in a manner wholly extinguished?
Every several offence hath his punishment both by God and
man appointed : and as there be certain degrees of evil
deeds, so are there also encreases in the quantities of pu-
nishments. If one have killed a man, it is a deed of itself
very heinous. What if he have killed his familiar friend?
164 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanAn,
What if his father? What if in one foul fact he hath
joyned all these offences together ? Surely of such a one,
neither can his life suffice for imposing-, nor his body for
bearing-, nor the judg-es policy for inventing- pain enough
for him ? Which of these faults is not comprised in this
offence ? I omit the mean common matters, the murdering
of a young gentleman, an innocent, her countryman, her
kinsman, her familiar, and her cousin german. Let us also
excuse the fact, if it be possible. She unadvisedly, a
young woman, angry, offended, and one of great innocen-
cy of life till this time, hath slain a lewd young man, and
adulterer, and unkind husband, and a cruel King.
If not any one, but all these respects together, were in
this matter, they ought not to avail to shift off all punish-
ment, but to raise some pity of the case. But what say
you that none of these things can so much as be falsly pre-
tended ? The fact itself, of itself is odious : in a woman it
is monstrous : in a wife not only excessively loved, but also
most zealously honoured, it is uncredible. And being
committed against him whose age craved pardon, whose
liearty affection required love, whose nighness of kindred
asked reverence, whose innocency might have deserved fa-
vour, upon that 3 r oung man I say, in whom there is not so
much as alledged any just cause of offence, thus to execute
and spend, yea, to exceed all torments due to all offences,
in what degree of cruelty shall we account it? But let
these things avail in other persons to raise hatred, to bring-
punishment, and to make examples to posterity. But in
this case let us bear much with her youth, much with her
nobility, much with the name of a Princess. As for mine
own part, I am not one that thinks it always good to use
extream strictness of law, no not in private, mean, and
common persons. But in a most heinous misdeed, to dis-
solve all force of law, and where is no measure of ill doing,
there to descend beneath all measure in punishing,
were the way to the undoing of all laws, and the over-
Buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 165
throw of all humane society. But in this one horrible act
is such a hotchpotch of all abominable doings, such an ea-
gerness of all outrageous crueltie, such a forgetfulness of all
natural affection, as nothing more can be feigned or ima-
gined. I omit all former matters.
I will not curiously inquire upon Prince's doings, I will
not weigh them by the common beam, I will not restrain
them to common degrees of duties. If there be any thing
that without great offence may be passed over, I will gladly
leave it unspoken of; if there be any thing that may receive
excuse, either by respect of age, or of woman kind, yea,
or of unadvisedness, I will not urge it. And to pass over
all the rest, two heinous offences there be, that neither ac-
cording to their greatness be fully expressed, nor according
to their outrage be sufficiently punished. I mean the violat-
ing of matrimony, and of royal majesty. For matrimony
(as the Apostle saith) doth truly contain a great mystery.
For, as being observed, it compriseth within it all inferiour
kinds of duties, so being broken, it overthroweth them all.
Whoso hath misused his father, seemeth to cast out of his
heart all natural reverence, but for the husband's sake, one
shall love both father and mother. Of all other duties, the
degrees, or like observances, either are not at all in brute
creatures, or not so plain to be discerned : but of matrimo-
nial love, there is almost no living creature that hath not
some feeling. This mystery, therefore, whoso not only
violateth, but also despiseth, he doth not only overthrow
all the foundations of human fellowship ; but, as much as
in him lyeth, dissolveth and confoundeth all order of nature.
Whosoever (I do not say) hurteth the King, that is the true
image of God in earth, but slayeth him with strange and
unwonted sort of cruelty, so as the untemperate and uncre-
dible outragiousness is not contented with simple torment,
seemeth he not, as much as in him lieth, to have a desire to
pull God out of Heaven ? What refuge have they then
left themselves to mercy, that in satisfying their lust Of
166 LOVE LETTERS OF [buchanan.
unjust hatred, have exceeded, not only all measure of
cruelty, but also all likelihood, that it can be credible.
But they will say, we ought to bear with, and spare her
nobility, dignity, and age. Be it so, if she have spared
him in whom all these respects were greater, or at least
equal. Let the majesty of royal name avail her. How much
it ought to avail to her preserving, herself hath shewed the
example. May we commit our safety to her, who, a sister,
hath butcherly slaughtered her brother, a wife her husband,
a Queen her King ? May we commit our safety to her,
whom never shame restrained from unchastity, woman-kind
from cruelty, nor religion from impiety ? Shall we bear
with her age, sex, and unadvisedness, that without all
just causes of hatred, despised all these things in her kins-
man, her King, her husband ? She that hath sought such
execution of her wrongful wrath, what shall we think she
will do being provoked by reproaches to men not knit to
her by kindred, subject to her pleasure, not matched with
her in equal fellowship of life, but yielded to her govern-
ance, and enthralled to her tormenting cruelty ? When
rage for interrupting her pleasure, and outrage of nature,
strengthened with armour of licentious power, shall
ragingly triumph upon the goods and blood of poor sub-
jects ? What is then the fault whereof we are accused,
what cruelties have we shewed ? That a woman raging
without measure or modesty, and abusing to all her sub-
jects destruction, the force of her power, that she had re-
ceived for their safety, we have kept under governance of
her kinsmen and well-willing friends : and whom by right
we might for her heinous deeds have executed, her we have
touched with no other punishment, but only restrained her
from doing more mischief. For we deprived her not of li-
berty, but of unbridled licentiousness of evil doing.
Wherein we have more fear among all good men, the
blame of too much lenity, than among evil men the slander
of cruelty.
buchanan.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 167
Thus I have given all that is necessary from Buchanan,
who, though doubtless prejudiced, must be considered the
best authority — he being one of the courtiers of the day,
and well informed of all that was going on ; and, subse-
quently one of the King's Commissioners who went before
the English Queen.
168 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
GOODALI/S EXAMINATION OF THE LETTERS, SAID TO BE
WRITTEN BY MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, TO JAMES EARL
OF BOTHWELL.
THE INTRODUCTION.
Amongst all the controverted histories in the world,
that of Mary Queen of Scots hath now, for many years,
been reckoned the most amazingly intricate and perplexed,
and continues to be so esteemed to this very day. Yea to
one who will curiously weigh the opposite and contra-
dictory accounts, given by different persons of the same
facts, it would seem as if this were not of the like nature
with any other history, either ancient or modern. Other
histories, for the most part, have become disputable, through
the scarcity, or destruction, of monuments relating to their
several times, to the want of capacity in those who wrote
them, or some obvious disadvantage under which they
laboured for attaining to sure means of knowledge, by
living either at too great distance of time after the
transactions themselves, or of place from the theatre of
action. But none of these things can be alledged in
Queen Mary's story. It had become a subject of high
dispute in her own time ; and hath been treated ever
since, as a point of the deepest concern in all modern
history, by the ablest writers abroad and at home. Many
have made it their peculiar care to search out and preserve
whatever monuments or documents they thought could be
of use for clearing any doubts and objections that fell
in their way; while others have laid themselves out to
collect, publish and preserve all the scandalous libels, or
stories, that had ever been trumped up, either by them
who dethroned her, or those who murdered her, to screen
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 169
their own wickedness. Hence it happens, that we are
rather overwhelmed with memoirs and vouchers of the
several particular events during- that period, than defective
therein : yet nevertheless the history itself, by this mul-
tiplicity of jarring- and inconsistent evidence, is become
rather more involved, especially that part of it relating" to
the murder of her second husband, and whether she was
herself innocent, or guilty, of that fact. Some have al-
ways absolved her, while others passionately condemn
her, and spare not to bestow the most opprobrious lan-
guage upon all who presume to differ from their opinion,
uncharitable as it is.
The truth of the matter is, the Queen's enemies took
the start of her friends. They not only invented and
spread abroad this calumny upon her, but also in the
presence of Queen Elizabeth and her Commissioners in
England, they proved, so far as their positive oaths could
go, two main points against her, namely, " That she was
in the foreknowledge, counsel, device, and persuaded and
commanded that her husband should be murdered; and
after that was done, fortified and maintained the mur-
derers:" As also, " That the Earl of Bothwell seized her
person with her own consent, and by a stratagem of her
own contrivance." Both which points they did verify by
some French letters which they exhibited upon oath as
written with her own hand to the Earl of Bothwell :
which letters were received by the English Commissioners,
examined and compared, once and again, with other letters
unquestionably written by Queen Mary, and likewise with
a translation of them into English, that had been sent up
by Murray to England in the month of June that year ;
and no difference being by them found, the letters to
Bothwell were all ingrossed in the memorials of the Ses^
sions of these Commissioners, excepting one, of which
afterwards.
Was not* this a very cautious and solemn procedure?
A
170 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall
Behold with what scrupulous nicety, and critical exactness^
these letters were admitted, and so patiently collated once
and again, before they were recorded ! But this being
once done in such a court, where Queen Elizabeth her-
self, that bright occidental star, presided in person ; at the
sight too of an unusual number of the nobility of Old Eng-
land, convened for that very purpose ; their whole acts
being drawn up by the direction and assistance of honest
Secretary Cecil ; and all the fundamentals so well secured
by the repeated oaths, and solemn protestations, of these
godly worthies, the Earls of Murray and Morton, the first
Protestant Bishop of Orknay, the Lord Lindsay, and the
titular Abbot of Dunfermling; the business seems to have
been almost over : for if fortifications so impregnable
could be taken by storm, and such solid foundations
blown in the air, what other safe refuge could the persons
concerned expect to find ! The Earl of Murray was so
certain of the truth of all that he had laid to Queen Mary's
charge, that he thought Queen Elizabeth bound by God's
ordinance to put her to death for the murder of her hus-
band, because he was Elizabeth's near kinsman, and born
her subject. And Cecil was of the same opinion, even
" that Queen Elizabeth was bound in conscience to an-
swer the petitions of her subjects, in matters of blood,
upon her subjects ;" that is, upon Queen Mary, for, in
CeciFs language, she and all the people of Scotland were
subjects to Elizabeth, by reason of her superiority over
that kingdom. Is it to be imagined that the one would
have petitioned, or the other so soon resolved, that a so-
vereign Queen should be put to death, had not the force
of conviction pressed very hard upon their tender con-
sciences ?
If the reader shall desire to know, as it is likely he will,
how Queen Mary's Commissioners could be employed all
this time, that they did not either refute these letters, or,
at least, give in their objections against them, as they
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 171
certainly always esteemed them forgeries ; he may find in
the appendix, that they were not idle; and in the fol-
lowing* brief account of these conferences, the manner in
which they were employed, is narrated in few words, and
to these he is referred. But to refute the letters was alto-
gether impossible for them, because they could never ob-
tain either a sight of the pretended originals, or copies of
them, although they often demanded them, at the Queen
of England's hands. Nay, Elizabeth declared that she
would receive proof of Murray's accusation of the Queen,
his Sovereign, before she were heard for herself; and
really did so. But as the particulars of that accusation
were kept a profound secret from Queen Mary and her
Commissioners, there was no remedy left them but simply
to deny. This indeed was done : both the Queen herself,
and her Commissioners in her name, did absolutely deny
that ever she wrote to any creature for such purposes ; and
affirmed, that if there were any such writings, they were
false, feigned, forged, and invented by Murray, Morton,
and their accomplices themselves : and this they undertook
to prove, providing they might be permitted to take a view
of the pretended originals, and get copies of them ; but
neither the one nor the other could ever be obtained ;
without which nothing could be done.
It appears indeed, by a letter from the Bishop of Ross to
Queen Elizabeth, dated the 17th of December, 1£68, that
he had got some general account of the letters, and the
contents, by word of mouth, either from some of the
English Commissioners, or, which is rather more pro-
bable, from Secretary Maitland; by which account, im-
perfect as it was, he points out several strong presump-
tions of the forgery, and several marks of the insufficiency
of the letters, but at the same time fell into some small
mistakes concerning them, as might be well expected in
one who argued from his memory, concerning writings of
172 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall,
which he had only heard : so his observations went for no-
thing.
Queen Mary and her Commissioners perceiving this double
dealing, that these conferences, to which Elizabeth had
urged her to consent, for pardoning her rebels, and being
reconciled to them, so that they might live in security, and
she enjoy her kingdom in peace for the future, were so un-
accountably carried on to no other purpose, but purely to
her dishonour ; and the very means of clearing herself thus
denied her, they resolved to go to work another way, by
which they might prove the forgery by inference, seeing
they were debarred of the means whereby it could have
been done in the direct manner. They accused Murray,
Morton and their associates, as the authors, inventers, and
some of them, the executers of that murder, and engaged
to prove that accusation also against them, and actually
began to collect some additional proof; for though they
knew the matter from the beginning, and wanted not proof
the Queen had declined to take this method hitherto; be-
cause, as she truly said herself, " It could not seem fit nor
convenient to stand before foreign judges to accuse them,
and much less to be accused by them, they being offenders,
&c.," though at last by those wicked and shameless pro-
ceedings, she found herself obliged to accuse them.
Things had hitherto been carried on altogether accord-
ing to the intention and desire both of Murray's faction, and
of Queen Elizabeth and her court : but this method of pro-
ceeding cast a heavy damp on all their spirits, and thrust
their noses quite out of joint. Great was the affront, that
a woman, in their own prison, even though she was a
Queen, assisted by two servants only, should, at such a cri-
tical juncture, have fallen upon the only proper method to
disclose their secrets, and disturb the schemes that had been
formed and pursued for several years, by people who thought
themselves the very prime politicians in the world; and it
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 173
cannot be denied but they had acquired some qualifications,
that are reckoned chiefly necessary to form adepts in the
science, by drinking- deeply of the potion that secured them
against all shame and qualms of conscience.
Various were the expedients thought of to ward this
deadly blow. They were all of them conscious that the
accusation was just ; and therefore the matter must not be
brought to a trial : Something however must be attempted
to raise their fallen countenances.
Murray and Morton knew themselves to be principally
levelled at ; for which reason, before the accusation should
be formally presented, they bravely resolved that the ques-
tion should be determined, not by a full and fair hearing,
but by a duel, to be fought, not by either of them in person,
but by proxy. For this purpose they engaged Patrick Lord
Lindsay, a very inconsiderate man, whom they used as a
meer tool, to send a challenge to Lord Herries, for accusing
Lord Regent Murray's Grace and his company, of the King's
murder ; which he did upon the 22d of December.
Lord Herries would fight with none of their proxies on
that occasion, but only with the principals ; because, he
said, " It was meetest that traitors should pay for their own
treason." But Murray and Morton were too tender of their
ewn dear skins, to endanger them in the like manner as
they did Lord Lindsay's. They therefore most meanly ap-
plied to the Earl of Leicester, Queen Elizabeth's minion,
for his assistance to mollify Lord Herries ; who thereupon
sent word to that nobleman to come to court that very
day, upon some importunate suit of the Earl of Murray.
Lord Herries absolutely refused to see Murray upon any
terms, unless it should be either to avow the accusation, or
the cartels exchanged that day betwixt him and Lindsay, of
which he sent back copies to Leicester, assuring him, that
if his presence was wanted on that account, he should not
fail to come, if God spared his life, at the hour that his
Lordship should appoint.
174 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
This answer made the case still worse. Cowardice per-
mitted not the good Regent, or his companion Morton, to
fight, though they had begun the quarrel ; and guilt hin-
dered them from standing the trial of the cause.
To rid them of this perplexity, they had recourse to
Queen Elizabeth, who never had deserted them in a disho-
nourable cause, or wicked action, and they never had occa-
sion to apply to her on any other account : with her there-
fore they bemoaned their present hard situation ; and she did
as much as she could to relieve them. IJut this served only
to fix guilt more closely upon them : For upon the 24th of
December, in the Council-chamber at Hampton-court, the
Duke of Norfolk having, in presence of others of the Eng-
lish Commissioners, declared to the Bishop of Ross and
Lord Herries, how " the Earl of Murray had bemoaned him
to Queen Elizabeth and her council, that it was come to
his knowledge, how it was murmured and bruited, that he
and his company were guilty of the murder which they had
laid to the Queen's charge ; and he understood the same
had proceeded from the Queen of Scotland's Commis-
sioners:" therefore required whether either of these two
would so accuse the other party ? as if that had not been
avowedly done before !
The answer was in greater readiness than they were
aware, namely, " That they had that very day received the
Queen their mistress's special command to accuse them of
that crime ; and would publicly do so, in presence of the
Queen of England and her council, desiring that they might
have her presence for that effect." And the next day being
assigned, they accordingly did accuse them of the King^s
murder, and shewed their Sovereign's instructions for their
warrant ; at the same time they produced her answers to
Murray's accusation, which he calls " the eik," and their
own answer to his solemn protestation. They likewise re-
quired to have copies given them of the writings produced
against their Sovereign, to the end that they might convict
good all.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 175
Murray and his party, both of murdering- the King*, and of
forging- papers, and then swearing- them upon her, to pal-
liate their own horrid actions.
Elizabeth acknowledged that this desire was very rea-
sonable, but never could be prevailed upon to grant it ; and
yet, which is altogether unaccountable, they still g-ave out
that Queen Mary would not answer as to the crime of mur-
dering her husband, even when they had in their hands her
answers to all that they would allow either herself or her
commissioners to see. Neither would they ever permit
that any enquiry should be made into Murray's guilt, in the
murder of the King ; for upon a second application made by
the Bishop of Ross and Lord Herries for these purposes, by
their mistress's express command, Elizabeth answered,
" That it was best some appointment should be made be-
twixt the Queen of Scotland, her good sister, and her sub-
jects:" although upon the 16th of December, she had told
them, " That she could not think them good or trusty ser-
vants, or counsellors, to her good sister, who would la-
bour her to appoint with her subjects, at this present, seeing
their unnatural behaviour shown by them, in accusing their
own native Sovereign:" yet this was now become her own
counsel, and had been, ever since the rumour, that Murray
was to be accused of the king's murder, had disconcerted
them all, Cecil excepted, who was never at a loss ; " For,
says he, though the Regent, or any of his company, shall
be by her charged to be parties to the murder, and to her
unlawful marriage, yet is that no discharge of her guilti-
ness :" as if the Queen had been to accuse them as parties or
participants with herself in that fact. She never charged
them as having any participants but amongst themselves.
Her Commissioners indeed, upon the first of December, in
their memorial, drawn up in some haste, after they were
made acquainted with Murray's accusation of their mistress,
had mentioned the Earl of Bothwell as one who had re-
ceived a bond written by Murray's party, for that murder:
176 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
But no such bond hath hitherto appeared ; and as there have
been several ill founded tales told about it, of which after-
wards, they seem also to have somewhat rashly taken up
with the vulgar reports. Certain it is, that no mention is
made either of the Earl of Bothwell, or of such a writing-,
in any of their following- accusations of Murray's party
before the Queen of England.
The appointment which Queen Elizabeth so lovingly and
modestly proposed, was no other than that Queen Mary
should resign her crown in favour of her son, and live pri-
vately in England. But that resignation being absolutely
refused upon the 9th of January, the Earl of Murray and
his accomplices got their public answer from the privy
council of England the very next day, not so much to their
mind, as they themselves then, and others since have pre-
tended, whether private encouragement or rewards they
received. Thus were they screened, at that time, from
having the horrid crimes proved against them, of which they
had been accused by their sovereign.
The Bishop of Ross and Lord Herries complained loudly
of this bare-faced, partial, and wicked behaviour ; and yet
they knew only the one half. What would they have said
if they had known the whole, and that all was carried on
by concert by Elizabeth and Murray, which they had en-
tered upon before-hand ? I cannot indeed tell what they
might have said ; but these matters were concerted as fol-
lows:
Queen Mary arrived in England upon the xvi. day of
May, 1568; and by the beginning of June, the good Re-
gent Murray had made a voluntary offer to accuse her of the
murder of her second husband, before Queen Elizabeth : of
which offer Elizabeth was most graciously pleased to accept,
as appears by her letter to Murray, dated viii. day of June.
Murray, perceiving how agreeable his offer was, wisely
took the opportunity of providing for his own secur ity and
settlement, " because (says he) we would be most loth to
coodall,] LOVE LETTERS OF 177
enter in accusation of the Queen, mother of the King- our
Sovereign, and then to enter in qualification with her ; for
all men may judge how dangerous and prejudicial that would
be. Always, in case the Queen's Majesty [of England]
will have the accusation directly to proceed, it were most
reasonable that we understood what we should look to
follow thereupon, in case we prove all that we alledge ;
otherwise we shall be as uncertain after the cause is con-
cluded, as we are presently, &c."
He had also a considerable scruple in a material point,
yea, the very chief point, which he wanted to have removed
before-hand, because he perceived, as he says, that the
trial which the Queen's majesty was minded to have taken
was to be used with great ceremony and solemnity :" and this
was even a modest diffidence that he had in his very letters
to Bothwell, whether they would be sustained as g'enuine,
or containing sufficient proof. ' It may be (says he), that
such letters as we have of the Queen, our sovereign lord's
mother, that sufficiently, in our opinion, prove her consent-
ing to the murder of the King, her lawful husband, shall
be called in doubt by the judges to be constitute for exami-
nation and trial of the cause, whether they may stand or
fall: prove, or not. Therefore, since our servant, Mr.
John Wood, has the copies of these letters, translated in
our language, we would earnestly desire that these copies
may be considered by the judges, who shall have the ex-
amination of the matter, that they may resolve us this far,
in case the principal agree with the copy, that then we
prove the cause indeed. For when we have manifested and
shewed all, and yet have no assurance that what we send
shall satisfy for probation, for what purpose shall we either
accuse, or take care how to prove, when we are not assured
what to prove, or, when we have proved, what shall
succeed ?"
I never yet could find the counter-tally of this transaction
on Queen Elizabeth's part. There is, in the appendix, a
a a
178 LOVE LETTERS OF [coodall.
paper by Cecil, consisting of answers to every one of those
questions and doubts ; but it cannot be reckoned to have
closed the bargain, which must have been concluded en-
tirely in the terms and manner proposed by Murray, as may
well appear from this, that the English commissioners took
the trouble to compare the pretended French originals, with
Murray's pretended translation. It surely w T as nothing to
the purpose, whether Murray's translation was found to be
correct, or not : nor can any shadow of a reason be easily
assigned, why they should have taken this trouble, unless,
for compleating the bargain in Murray's terms, they had
first resolved that, in case the originals should agree with
his translation, they would sustain them as full proof of the
accusation.
Thus was that abominable confederacy concluded in the
month of June, betwixt Queen Elizabeth and Murray ; so
that there remained nothing to be done on his part, but to
produce his letters, and to swear home that they were
Queen Mary's hand- writing. The only remaining difficulty
was, how to induce the Queen to consent to any hearing- or
conference with her rebels. Much chicane, and no small
time was employed in bringing this about, as is to be seen
by a paper of Cecil's, published by James Anderson, in
which, though it is stuffed with disingenuity, like all
others from that hand, this is visible enough. At last, Eliza-
beth declaring, that she thought itmeetest that the differ-
ences betwixt Queen Mary and her subjects should be made
up by a good appointment, to which she would contribute
by her good offices ; that nothing was intended, but to re-
store her to her kingdom in the most easy and peaceable
way, to reduce her rebellious subjects to their due obe-
dience, and to provide such terms for their security, as all
might continue in a state of tranquility ever afterwards ;
Mary consented.
But when Murray came to York, ready to give in his
accusation, he began to have further scruples about the
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 179
sufficiency of all the security he had obtained, either for his
continuing- in the regency, or being* even assured of his life.
He therefore laid his doubts before the English commission-
ers, craving* to be resolved as to them, before he would ac-
cuse his sovereign and sister ; and the more to incite and en-
courage them to answer his demands, he employed four of
his retinue to shew to these commissioners, in a private
manner, his whole proof and evidences. But their an-
swers did not prove satisfactory.
In the mean time the court of England perceiving that
Murray's wheels moved heavily at York, all parties were
called up to London, for the further prosecution of the
matter : and Queen Elizabeth wrote to her commissioners,
« That the more willingly to induce them of the Queen's
part to come to London, who (says she) we think will most
suspect the same, we would have you to use all good means,
whereby the Queen may understand, that this our confer-
ence is intended to take away the delay of time : for we
cannot see any likelihood, but by these means, how to end
this cause in honourable sort, and meet for all parties/'
" In the dealing herein, ye shall do well to have g*ood
regard that none of the Queen of Scot's commissioners
may gather any doubt of any evil success of her cause ; but
that they may imagine this conference of ours principally
to be meant, how her restitution may be devised with surety
of the Prince her son, and the nobility that have adhered
to him, &c." Thus she wrote upon the xvi. day of October,
and upon the xxx. of that month, her privy council met,
for settling the form of their procedure at this conference ;
where it was agreed, that two questions should be put to
Murray's party, " 1. How they could answer such matters as
were contained in the reply on the Queen's part? II. Why
they did forbear in their answer to charge the Queen with
guiltiness in the murder, considering that their party had
always given out to the world that she was guilty ? Then, if
they should be content to shew sufficient matter to prove her
ISO LOVE LETTERS OF [good all,
guilty, it was thought good, for many respects, that they
should be assured that Queen Elizabeth would never re-
store her to the crown of Scotland, nor permit her to be
restored, without such assurances as their party should
allow to be good for themselves/' Which was accordingly
done.
The commissioners met first upon the xxv. of November,
and that day being spent in entering protestations, shewing
their commissions, administering oaths, and the like preli-
minaries, upon the very next day Murray received from the
English commissioners a full and satisfactory answer in
writing', to all his doubts and demands ; and they received
from him in exchange his accusation of the Queen, which
he had in readiness, but would not exhibit, until it was
ushered in by a solemn protestation, in name of himself and
company, " That their former proceedings might serve for
a sufficient testimony to the world, how unwilling they had
ever been to touch their sovereign lord's mother in honour,
or to publish, unto strangers, matters tending to her perpe-
tual infamy. That (such was their devotion towards her !)
rather than they would spot her honesty with the society of
that detestable murder, they had been content to suffer
their doings to be misrepresented, and themselves blazoned
as traitors and rebels to their native Prince, in whose person
they had put hands undeservedly. That easy had it been
for them to have wiped off these, and the like objections,
with a few words, if they would have uttered matters,
which they kept in store for the last cast. [Pray, dash out
those last nine monosyllables, good reader!] For so de-
sirous were they to cover her shame, that they were content
to bear a part of the burden, to their no small danger. They
well remembered what person she was, whom this matter
chiefly touched, even the mother of the King their sove-
reign, and one to whom, in particular, the most part of
them were bound for benefits received at her hands, and
therefore could not but privately bear her good will : yea,
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 181
so far, that if with the perpetual exile of any one, or even
a number of them forth of their native country, they could
redeem her honour, without danger of the king's person
and whole estate, they affirm, (and it must be remembered
they are still upon oath) they would willingly banish
themselves to that end : but then Scotland could no longer
continue to be a kingdom, and the profession of true
religion would go to pot, &c." Therefore Queen Eliza-
beth was bound to put her to death : and yet nothing of all
this was to be charged to their account, but wholly to be
imputed to their adversaries, her own Commissioners, who,
whatever they pretended, sufficiently declared how little
they cared what became of her, by pressing them to come
to that answer, which, it was known, they had just cause
to make, and would make in the end, [Let six monosyl-
lables more be dashed out,] to her perpetual infamy ! For
they had no delight all this while to see her dishonoured ;
nor came they willingly to her accusation for a crime so
odious, &c.
Now to one who considers, that they had first produced
their letters before their Privy Council in December, the
year 1567, and having converted the Act of their Council
then made into an Act of their Parliament, which they
had printed in April 1568, had sent up their letters to
London to be considered, and made a bargain about them,
as we have seen, in June, and lastly shewed them at
York in October, it will appear to have required no small
resolution to enter into this protestation before these very
men to whom they had communicated all before, even
although they were friends. Whether the height of as-
surance, or depth of hypocrisy, doth predominate in the
composition of this paper, is a problem too hard for me ;
so I leave the solution to their greatest admirers, whose
serious attention it claims in a more special manner.
From this narrative of the matter, it is manifest that
Queen Elizabeth, seeing she would have the. accusation of
182 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
Queen Mary directly to proceed, could employ none other
than those who had usurped her crown, and seized all
her riches, however unfit they were on that accouut ; be-
cause they only had proof, while few others believed it ;
and was forced to admit the same men as witnesses to
prove their own accusation, for the same reason. Which
being done, how could she, in honour, either have ex-
posed their chief evidences to open view, or given oppor-
tunity to have fixed the King's murder on these accusers
and witnesses ? The latter would evidently have annulled
her bargain, and spoiled all the contrivance : and the dan-
ger from exposing their proofs was not much less ; for had
they been detected to be forgeries, which she certainly
dreaded, Ross and Herries, who were thought to be too
clamourous before, would, upon that emergency, have
been ready to rend the very earth with their terrible ex-
clamations. And it might have been suspected, not with-
out some shew of reason, that Herries's sword would no
longer have lurked quietly in his scabbard, whether Mur-
ray or Morton would accept his challenge or not ; seeing
no other reasonable redress could be obtained.
But this dire catastrophe was prevented, by keeping the
letters out of the view of every one, besides Murray's
party and the Court of England: and thus they con*
tinued a profound secret, till in the year 1571, after Mor-
ton had been a second time at London, with the Queen's
silver box, and their letters in it, for a new conference, it
pleased Queen Elizabeth and her Ministers to have them
printed at London, along with George Buchanan's detec-
tion, both in the Latin and Scottish languages, and next
year in French. Along' with them there was published a
paper drawn up by Cecil to support their credit, but most
falsely pretending that they had been printed in Scot-
land.
For what purpose they happened to be then printed,
we are informed by Elizabeth herself and her Ministers,
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 183
in their instructions, in the year 1571, to one of her Am-
bassadors or residents in France, for I have not at present
the beginning- of that paper: But after many insignificant
arguments to be made use for convincing the King of
France, that he ought not to interpose on Queen Mary's
behalf, we have this remarkable prescription, — " And
here were it not amiss to have divers of Buchanan's little
Latin books, to present, if need were, to the King, as
from yourself, and likewise to some of the other Noblemen
of his Council ; for they will serve to good effect to dis-
grace her; which must be done, before other purposes
can be attained/'
In this manner, and for these ends the letters were
made known and spread abroad in the world by good
Queen Elizabeth, but little to Queen Mary's advantage ;
for she herself had been long shut up in one prison, and
now the Bishop of Ross, her Ambassador, was confined in
another; so that they could know little concerning the
practices that were carried on in the world. And had
they even been at greater liberty, it is possible they might
not have happened on an absolute proof of the forgery
from a printed copy. Every one knows that divers indi-
cations of forgery may be discovered in a pretended ori-
ginal writing, which must be quite lost in a copy, whe-
ther written or printed : indeed had they been at full li-
berty, as they ought to have been, it is not to be doubted
but that and many other crimes, no less heinous and exe-
crable, would have been brought to light, as the Queen
herself expressly says.
But however improper accusers and evidences these
men were, and however preposterous and absurd their
method of proceeding was in reality, yet as in some points
it resembled the ordinary form of probation by writ, and a
great deal of ceremony having been used as a cloak for
concealing the want of sincerity and honesty, it past with
1S4 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
weak understandings as a proof, and has still been pleaded
as such by persons of deep prejudices, and with such it
will continue to be so esteemed, until it shall be quite
disproved by clear evidence ; and even then, some who
have their understandings in absolute subjection to their
wills, and their wills of a perverse disposition, will never
change their opinion, or, at least, not acknowledge it,
unless they could perceive their interest in doing so.
All others of tolerable penetration, considering the close
connexion that had always been betwixt Queen Elizabeth
and Murray's party, suspected this whole story as meer
juggle and imposture ; but the stronger evidences for the
truth of their conjectures having been kept secret to this day,
they could not shew clearly that it was actually so. They
made their exception against the stile of the letters, which
in fact differs extremely from the Queen's manner of writing ;
and this, joined with other presumptions, forms a strong
argument against them ; but few are capable of perceiving
the full force of it: and although a man be, for his own
part, well persuaded of a thing of that nature, he will find
it no easy matter to persuade others.
These and the like difficulties have made some of our own
countrymen look upon this matter as a kind of mysterious
abyss, which, although they were persuaded it had once a
bottom, yet did they doubt whether it could ever hereafter
be fathomed. It is therefore not much to be wondered, if
foreigners, like Monsieur Bayle, or others of the like taste
and complexion, do treat this affair as a remarkable founda-
tion for historical Pyrrhonism. Nevertheless it may be said,
that more might have been expected from so high a pre-
tender to reason as Monsieur Pierre Bayle, than to conclude
the question to be undeterminable, after he had run a pa-
rallel betwixt the credit that is due to George Buchanan's
satire, or history, call it as you will, and William Camden's
annals of Queen Elizabeth. Was it not possible that both
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 185
of them were in the wrong-? Yea, for ought that he knew,
Camden's errors, though few in comparison, and inconsi-
derable, were all on the same side of the question with
Buchanan's vile fictions: which for the most part is really
the fact.
But perhaps this is all that foreigners, like Bayle, can do,
who probably do not imagine that there are better evidences
to be had for determining these points : or, if they have any
such notion, know not to whom they should apply, or
where to search for them. But it would ill become natives
of this country, who have fairer opportunities for inquiry,
as having more ready access to indubitable documents of
the transactions of those times, to put off their readers, or
consume their own time with prattle about the veracity or
credit of this or that historian ; a method not to be borne
with, except in matters of high antiquity, in which perhaps
nothing better is to be had.
It is therefore purposed in this small treatise, to go to the
fountain-head, and strictly to examine whatever evidence
the Queen's enemies brought, either to convict her, or to
vindicate themselves ; and as for the method, to proceed on
the same plan which the Queen and her Commissioners ap-
pear to have chalked out for themselves, viz. first to demon-
strate the forgery of the pretended letters to Bothwell ;
and then to shew that Murray, Morton, and their accom-
plices, were the first contrivers, and some of them the real
executers of the murder of the King.
The first mention that I have met with of any writing
under the Queen's hand, from which her guilt in the murder
of her husband was said to appear, is in a letter from Sir
Nicholas Throckmorton to Queen Elizabeth, dated from
Edinburgh the 25th day of July 1567, by which he acquaints
her, that Morton and his associates designed to charge their
Queen, among other things, " with the murder of her hus-
band, of which they said they had as apparent proof against
her, as might be, as well by the testimony of her own hand-
B b
186 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
writing, which they had recovered, as also by sufficient wit-
nesses." Now some will be apt to think that the letters to
Both well are meant by this word, " hand- writing :" and,
I confess, I would also have been of that opinion, if they
had not affirmed with the same breath, that they had suffi-
cient witnesses too. Had the Queen herself murdered him,
or been present when the deed was done, it was possible to
have had witnesses ; but as that was not the case, it sur-
passeth an ordinary capacity to imagine how they could
possibly have had them. It is to be further observed, that
however sufficient these witnesses may be supposed, yet they
must needs have been guilty themselves, as well as the Queen ;
and thence another very hard question arises, What becomes
of these witnesses ? Certainly they could not be extant
upon the 4th day of December that same year ; for then the
matter having been reasoned upon at great length, and with
good deliberation, in their council and convention, for
sundry days, no other way, or means, could be found, for
vindicating themselves, or accusing the Queen, but the
letters to Bothwell only. Now had there been such wit-
nesses, there would have been one other way by them, which
could not have been forgot, when the men were reduced to
so great straits. And of what service they might have been
to the cause the next year in England, every one must see,
who considers that when Queen Elizabeth had bent her
whole mind to blacken Queen Mary's character, under the
pretence of friendship, and of giving her assistance, she was
of necessity obliged to receive both for accusers and wit-
nesses, those most open and notorious rebels and traitors,
who had imprisoned their Sovereign's person, usurped her
royal authority, and seized her whole riches and revenues ;
in the possession of all which Elizabeth was by compact to
maintain them for their pains, as hath been shewn. The
transaction indeed must have been infamous at any rate, but
not to so evident a degree, if there had been other sufficient
witnesses than these accusers, who were thereby both to
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 187
have their lives and estates secured, which they confess
they had forfeited, and to enjoy those rewards of the highest
nature besides.
By the same letter we learn, that they then accused the
Queen of two other crimes ; the first whereof was " tyranny,
for violating- both their common and statute laws, and,
namely, for the breach of those statutes which were enacted
in her absence, and confirmed by Monsieur de Randan, and
Monsieur D' Oisel, in the French King her husband's name
and hers." They mean the acts of their pretended parlia-
ment 1560. But in the first place, Messrs. de Randan and
D' Oisel had no such commission, either from the King of
France, or from her. Secondly, they had both left the
kingdom before these pretended laws were framed. And
in the third place, not one of these pretended statutes was
ever ratified or held as law, till Murray got two of them
confirmed in his parliament in December 1567, after the
Queen was in prison.
A third crime, which they said they were to lay to her
charge, was " incontinency, as well with the Earl of Both-
well, as with others, having sufficient proof against her for
that crime." As they never wanted sufficient proof, it is
much they did not run over the decalogue, and ascribe to
her every species of crime. Their proof is to be seen in G.
Buchanan's detection, that extraordinary performance, which
Queen Elizabeth was so good as to disperse through France.
In it we have such a senseless inconsistent story about the
Queen, and Dame Reres, Margaret Carwood and Both well,
and a window and a belt, and every thing, either within
doors or without, clearly seen in a dark night, by those
who were not present, as has scarcely any parallel in other
romances, even the most absurd. Yet he proves all by the
confession of a dead man, to wit, George Dalgleish, which,
says he, yet remains on record ; although in that confession
there is not one single word of the story. But if the dead
188 LOVE LETTERS OP [goodall.
man's confession will not do, the Queen's own will certainly
be sufficient, for, we have Buchanan's word for it, she con-
fessed it herself. A reader who is not acquainted with Mr.
Buchanan or his books, will be apt to think, that as she
was a Roman Catholic, this confession had been made to
some knavish little priest, who had thus revealed it again.
But that was not the case : the confession was made to the
most ghostly of all ghostly fathers and mothers, even to the
good Regent the Earl of Murray, and his dear mother the
Lady Lochlevin. Mr. Buchanan's word will be sufficient to
make this story pass with some well disposed people ; but,
for the conviction of others, it were to be wished that
Murray had sworn to the truth of it, or else had put it into
Dalgleish's confession : for to affirm that it was to be found
there, when it is not, has an extreme ugly aspect.
Was it not somewhat unlucky, that the Queen's hand-
writing should have been first mentioned amongst so many
absurdities and falsehoods ? And doth not that give a handle
for suspecting this proof to have been as ill founded as the
rest? It will perhaps be asked, Why all this ado about
mentioning her writings in July 156/ : doth it not appear
from the act of Murray's privy-council in September 1568,
that they had got them in June the preceding year ? It is
so said there indeed : but how are we to know whether that
tale has more truth in it than their former stories ? In any
event this letter of Throckmorton's is so far useful, as it di-
rectly confronts their holy protestation, that they always de-
clined to publish this matter to strangers, and thus shews
how much credit is due to their assertions, even when upon
oath.
The letters seem to have made their first public appear-
ance in Murray's privy-council, in time of a convention upon
the 4th day of December 1567.
They were next produced in Murray's parliament that
same month.
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 189
Thirdly, there was a translation of them, (as Murray
calls it) sent to London, to be considered by the council
there, in the beginning- of June 1568.
The fourth time of their appearance was when Morton
delivered them, box and all, to Murray in his privy-council,
16th September 1568.
They were shewed privately to the English commis-
sioners at York, by four of Murray's retinue, amongst whom
was Mr. George Buchanan, upon the 10th day of October
1568.
They were produced before the English commissioners
at London, upon the 8th day of December 1 568, and by
them examined, compared and recorded.
Their last public appearance was in Lenox's privy-council,
when they were re-delivered to Morton, then going to
London, upon the 22d day of January 1571, and there also
they were entered upon record.
But neither the pretended originals, nor either of these
records, can be found at present, though no small enquiry
hath been made after them.
Morton had got the originals again into his hands, and
with him they remained, until he was accused of the King's
murder, upon the 17th of January 1581. After which the
Earl of Angus, as his heir by tail, having taken the inspec-
tion and charge of his effects, till the issue of his trial should
be seen, the box and letters fell into his hands, and still was
kept by him and his successors ; for I find an anonymous
historian who wrote about the restoration of King Charles
II. affirming that the box and letters were at that time to
be seen with the Marquis of Douglas ; and it is thought by
some, that they are still in that family, though others say
they have since been seen at Hamilton. What pity it is
tliat they are not sought out and engraven on brass !
Hence it is not easy to account for what we read in the
Naudaeana, that Gabriel Naude saw these letters at Rome.
If a printed copy is meant, it was no strange sight, nor was
190 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
it necessary to go to Rome for it : and the pretended origi-
nals were not seen to be there, in his days, wherever they
may be now. He adds, " That, for his part, he is willing
to believe all that Monsieur de Thou and Buchanan have
said of the Queen to be true/* A rash declaration to come
so abruptly from a man of sense ; it savours much of an in-
terpolated polluting hand ; and these Ana's are known to be
of little or no authority. But however it came there, it re-
flects little honour on Mr. Naude. Every one knows that
there were such letters, whether he saw them or not : but,
unless he could have shewn that they were the Queen's
own, this declaration is foolish. Yet as if it were to the
purpose, we see it taken hold of in a hodge-podge of im-
pertinence and blunders of divers people amassed together,
and lately printed at Aberdeen, on account chiefly, as it
would seem, of an obscene word, which in the Naudseana
stands in a dead language ; but they have translated it, and
insist on it, thereby displaying the impurity, as well as the
malice, of their hearts. Who can but pity that poor weak
man, who is used as a vehicle for transmitting such rotten
wares, and thereby exposed to be so miserably pelted, in-
stead of the proprietors !
The records that were made of these letters would be of
little more use than the printed copies, for the discovery of
the forgery; so that we need not be very anxious about
them. The extracts from them of such paragraphs as were
thought most to the purpose, by the English commissioners,
are still to be seen. The letters were printed at London in
the year 1571, at the end of Buchanan's detection, three in
Latin, and all in the Scottish language, where they studied
to preserve the Scottish dialect, that they might seem to
have been published in Scotland, as Cecil gave out ; but their
anxiety in that matter, made them sometimes mistake the
older English syllabication for Scottish, putting nat for
not, and the like, and thus betrayed themselves.
The first edition of the detection and letters in French,
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 191
was also published at London, though it bears in the title-
page that it was printed at Edinburgh by Thomas Waltem,
as appears from its giving an account, (folio 82) of the exe-
cution of Mather and Barney, which it says happened in the
beginning of that year 1572. Now these men were hanged,
drawn and quartered, according to the English fashion,
upon the 11th day of February that year, for treason against
Cecil, and the printing of that book was finished upon the
thirteenth day of the same month, as it testifies itself; and
therefore must have been done at London, and not at Edin-
burgh.
It was a common custom in those days, that when the
English court thought proper to publish any scandalous
books, or pamphlets, they made the title-pages bear that
they were printed in Scotland ; such as these editions of the
detection: the books De furoribus Gallicis: Le Revielle
matin, both in French and in Latin, Junius Brutus, &c.
In the same year 1572, the detection and letters were
published at St. Andrews, in Scotland, by Robert Leck-
previk, which James Anderson would impose upon us as the
first edition, as also that it had been translated from the
Latin by Mr. Buchanan himself: Neither of which is true.
That they have been printed in England before that time,
as was said already, we learn from Alexander Hay's letter
to Knox, dated the 14th day of December 1571 : and that
the translation was made by some other person, who hath
not always rightly apprehended the true meaning of the
Latin, could be made appear at great length, if the matter
were of any moment : but, whoever wants to see the truth,
may find some examples in Mr. Thomas Ruddiman's notes
upon that work. All these editions were consulted in
printing the letters in this book.
It is to be observed, that the editions in the Scottish lan-
guage have eight letters, and the French only seven.
Murray actually presented eight before the English com-
missioners, but they did quietly reject one of that number, and
192 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
accepted of the other seven only. Hence that one is want-
ing in the edition in French, which was certainly published
at London, by Cecil, notwithstanding- all his dissimulation
and assertions to the contrary, either in the book itself, or
elsewhere. He it was who drew up the supplement at the end
of it against the Queen and Duke of Norfolk, and had all
in readiness to be published, how soon the Duke should be
beheaded, which, as he expected, should have been upon
the 11th day of February, 1572. But that matter being-
put off for some time, to his great grief, he had a few alter-
ations to make, and thus the book was finished at the print-
ing-house only upon the 13th of that month.
Of all the evidences that were found out for proving- the
letters to be the Queen's own writing, the first in the pro-
per natural order, though not in time, is a sort of stipula-
tion betwixt Murray and Morton, in their privy-council,
the xvi. day of September, 1568, before they set out for
England ; by which Morton delivers up to Murray the box
and letters in it : and Murray, in return, gives him an act of
council, for his exoneration, containing an ample testimo-
nial and declaration, " that Morton had all along truly and
honestly kept the said box, and whole writings and pieces
within the same, without any alteration, augmentation, or
diminution thereof, in any part or portion ;" then obliges
himself to make them., all forthcoming for the benefit of all
concerned. I call this the first evidence in the natural
order, because, although they had been the year ^before
produced both in their council and parliament, there had
never been any mention made how or when they got them.
This deficiency is now made up ; for in this act we are told,
"that they were found with the late George Dalgleish,
servant to the Earl of Bothwell, upon the xx. day of June,
1567." And thus all is well, had we been told who found
them.
But here it comes naturally to be questioned, how Mur-
ray or his council, and especially he himself, who was in
CfOODALL.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 193
France at the time, could so readily and roundly attest,
either that this box and letters were found with Dalgleish,
or that Morton had so honestly preserved them all that time,
without any manner of change or alteration ? This seems
repugnant to common sense, and is so far from answer-
ing- their purpose, that it affords the most vehement pre-
sumption of fraud.
Their acts of council and parliament in December, 1567,
may be reckoned another of their evidences, for they can-
not well be counted separately, because their act of par-
liament is nothing* but the fag-end of their act of council ;
which council was held for devising before-hand, " how
and by what means a full and perfect law and security
might be obtained, and made, for all those who either by
deed, counsel, or subscription, had entered in their cause
since the beginning. And, the matter being largely, and
with good deliberation, reasoned at great length, and upon
sundry days, at last the whole lords, barons, and others,
could find no other way or means to find or make the said
security, but by producing these letters ; which, they de-
clared, they were most loth to do, for the love they bore
to the Queen's person, who was once their sovereign, and
for the reverence of his majesty, whose mother she was,
and also on account of the many good and excellent gifts
wherewith God sometime endued her, if otherwise the
sincerity of their intentions and proceedings from the be-
ginning might have been known to foreign nations, and
the inhabitants of this isle (of whom many as yet remained
in suspense of judgment) satisfied and resolved of the righ-
teousness of their quarrel ; and the security of themselves
and their posterity, by any other means, could have been
provided and established/'
Behold how lucky a hit this, that it should have chanced
Dalgleish to be apprehended with the letters, at a time of
so great distress. These they produced in parliament, and
obtained security in their own very terms, with the altera-
c c
194 LOVE LETTERS OF [good all-
tion of only one single word, but a most cruel and unlucky
word it was, and might have undone all.
In their act of privy-council, which they presented by
way of petition to their parliament, they had affirmed that
the letters were written and subscribed by the Queen's
own hand : but when they came to be produced before
the parliament, O, miserable neglect ! the subscription had
even been forgotten to be added; and when they had
once appeared thus publicly without it, could never af-
terwards be supplied : and both the seal, it seems, and
indorsation, had been forgotten also. No very inconsidera-
ble defects !
The parliament therefore could not find them to have
been subscribed by her ; but they found them to be holo-
graph ; for instead of saying they were written and sub-
scribed with her own hand, as the act of council has it,
they say the letters were written wholly with her own
hand ; and all the rest of the act is in Murray's own or his
council's words.
It may be said that it was proof enough, if the parlia-
ment found them to be written by her, although the sub-
scription was wanting. But whoever will object to this,
ought first to satisfy us how papers, which upon the iv. of
December, are affirmed by an assembly of twenty-eight
persons, to have been subscribed, came to appear thereafter
not to have been subscribed, nor ever after pretended to
have been so by those very persons themselves, when so
often mentioned. For though this circumstance may at first
view appear small and trifling, any thinking person who
maturely considers it, will perceive that they had designed
to have presented their letters to the parliament formally
subscribed by the Queen, by whatever mishap it fell out
that it was not done ; and then it will become extreamly
hard to believe that any of these letters had been written
by her, any more than subscribed, even although the par-
liament had sworn to it.
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 195
If any body shall express their amazement how the par-
liament could have allowed an act to pass in their name, in
which it was said/ that these letters were wholly written
by the Queen's own hand ; I refer them to the reasons given
for their conduct in that matter by a numerous assembly of
the greatest personages in the kingdom, of whom many
were there present, viz. " There was nothing done in their
parliament that might prejudge the Queen's honour in any
sort, her grace never having been called nor accused there-
of: for what was done was not to declare her grace guilty
of any crime, which of reason no ways could be done
against her majesty uncalled ; but only an act made for
safety of themselves from forfeiture, who treasonably had
put hands on her majesty's most noble person, and impri-
soned her grace, only founding their proceedings upon just
meaning, as they alledged ; which sundry noblemen who
were her grace's favourers, then present, bore withal, most
principally for safety of her grace's life, which, before their
coming to parliament, was concluded and subscribed by a
great part of those who had seized her person, to be taken
from her in a most cruel manner, as is notoriously known ;
suppose sundry of the noblemen, partakers with them-
selves, refused to subscribe the same, or consent to her
death in any ways.
"And in case any such act had been made, the same can-
not prejudge her majesty in any sort, in respect they had
no lawful power to hold a parliament. And also it is
against all laws and reason to condemn any creature on life,
until they be first called to use their lawful defences, or, at
least, presented in judgment and heard.
" And likewise it is against all laws and reason, and also
it was never seen in practice, that ever the subjects were
judges of the Prince, but should always obey them, yea,
albeit they be wicked, as the scripture declares."
This is the true state of the matter. We see by their
own petition, drawn up in their council, that they desired
196 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
to have it enacted thus and thus, only as a full and perfect
law and security for themselves and their posterity ; which
they affirm they could not devise by any other means.
Murray, with twenty-seven of his satellites or partisans,
who were all petitioners for it, and so ought not to have
been present, sat and voted for having it past ; and all who
favoured the Queen were obliged to consent to let them
have that security, in their own terms, lest they should
murder her ; which some of them had concluded to have
been done, and had subscribed a covenant for that end ; and
George Buchanan, who that very year had been moderator
of the general assembly of the kirk, had by this time prepared
his dialogue dejure regni, for justifying all these purposes,
from which one may well learn what was in agitation.
If it shall seem strange that any of these men, who so
amply testified the great love and good will that they bore
to her person, on account of her high rank, and many good
and excellent gifts and virtues, should have been at the
very same time consulting and covenanting to cut her off;
there is nothing in this more than the same persons did over
again the next year, while they declare their devotion,
private affection, and good wishes towards her, both for
private and public respects, and acknowledge the most part
of them were bound to her for benefits received at her
hands ; and yet in the same paper will have Queen Eliza-
beth to crave her husband's blood at her hands, as being
bound so to do by God's ordinance, and at the next meet-
ing, Elizabeth and they together prevailed with that weak
man, the Earl of Lenox, to give in a petition to the same
purpose. And this may suffice to shew that there are no
great things to be built upon these acts of their council and
parliament: not to insist that men of as great judgment as
were among them, affirmed that the letters were none of
her writing,
It is still to be kept in remembrance, that these letters
had past both in their Privy Council and Parliament, with-
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 197
out any account given how, or when they should have
come to their hands. Dalgleish was then alive, and pos-
sibly might have denied that ever he had them. But he
being- put to a cruel death amongst others, in January
following, 1568, the box was said, at its next appear-
ance, to have been found with him, upon the xx. day of
June, 1567: but by whom is not said, in either of the
two receipts that are granted for it. It would seem Dal-
gleish had not been apprehended by Morton himself; and
thence would arise a chasm in the progress of the letters,
which, as is commonly received, was from the Queen to
Nicholas Hubert, or French Paris, who gave them to
Bothwell, who gave them to Sir James Balfour, who
gave them to Dalgleish, from whom they were taken
by Morton, who gave them to Murray, after he kept
them truly and honestly for near xv. months, as Murray
beareth witness. But that ever Sir James Balfour had
them, or that Morton had them from Dalgleish, no man
is warranted to say, by any original accounts of them that
appear at present. They must have passed through as
many hands at least, and probably more : but here we are
as yet in the dark. Morton's declaration of the manner
how he came by them, which he exhibited before the
English Commissioners upon the ix. day of December,
1568, ought surely to have cleared up this matter, which
perhaps it may do afterwards, for at present it cannot be
found.
Were people at liberty to form their judgment con-
cerning the matter from such short hints as occur, it be-
hoved them to conceive of it as not a little mysterious.
Thus the English Commissioners, after Murray's deputies
had instructed them privately in these matters, upon the
x. day of October, use the following words, in relation
to the manner how the box, &c. was found : " The manner
how these men came by them is such as, it seemeth, that
198 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
God, in whose sight murder and bloodshed of the inno-
cent is abominable, would not permit the same to be hid,
or concealed." Something* very uncommon is always
hinted at, whenever this affair is mentioned.
As the whole stress, in a manner, of the cause depends
fundamentally upon this declaration (for without it, what
would all the rest signify ?) we must allow that there has
been something in it. There is indeed an obvious and
weighty objection : Morton had always been in a confe-
deracy with the enemies of his country, and partaker in
its spoils, both before, at and after the reformation; and
was one of the principal assassins when David Rizio was
murdered, and the Queen so horribly abused, and made
prisoner ; that he was also one of the contrivers and exe-
cuters of the King's murder; and, lastly, the ringleader
in imprisoning the Queen in Lochlevin ; therefore his
oaths and declarations could hardly have been regarded,
or accepted, in any cause, far less in this, could his single
testimony be received for the basis of the whole fabrick.
On the other hand, it is to be considered, that if these, or
the like objections, should have been allowed of, they
would have debarred all the rest, as well as him, from
bearing testimony in this cause, as they had been all more
or less concerned in the same transactions ; by which
means our famous letters would have been rendered quite
insignificant, and we should also have been deprived of the
declaration by Murray and all the rest of his Commissioners
the next day, which may be esteemed as the capital of all.
lit is in these words :
" We, by the tenor hereof, testify, avow and affirm,
upon our honours and consciences, that the whole missive
writings, sonnets, obligations, and contracts, are un-
doubtedly the said Queen's proper hand-writ ; except the
contract in Scots, dated at Seton, the v. day of April,
1567, written by the Earl of Huntly, which also we un-
cjoodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 199
derstand and perfectly know to be subscribed by her,
and will take the same upon our honours and con-
sciences," &c.
But no man ought to overload his conscience ; and
whoever swears more than he can know, doth no service
to the cause, but hurt. Other people use to swear that
they truly believe, or are persuaded, that this or that
paper is of such a person's writing* : but here is all point
blank, undoubted knowledge and perfect certainty in
this declaration, which was given for corroboration of their
oath made before, as if that had not been sufficient.
And their swearing so positively to the Queen's bare
subscription, consisting only of six letters, of which one
might easily forge a hundred in a day, so as neither she
herself, nor any of them could be able to discern the
difference, discovers such a keenness and resolution to go
through stitch with their matters, as in men who must
have been acquainted with the nature of writings and of
oaths, can be called by no other proper appellation, than
that of deliberate perjury. All men, it is likely, will
not sufficiently comprehend the ground of this observa-
tion, but the most part of fine writers and engravers
know that the matter is so, and they are the most compe-
tent judges, which is enough to me. They swear at the
same time that the Earl of Huntly wrote the paper at which
this subscription was : ought they not also to have proved
his hand-writing, or to have got him to acknowledge the
fact some way or other?
Hitherto we have spoke only of what may be strictly
called home-proofs, as depending wholly upon their own
knowledge and consciences. Now as to their auxi-
liaries : —
They introduced one Thomas Crawford, whom they
call a Gentleman of the Earl of Lenox's, as the person of
whose conference with the Queen, on her way to
Glasgow, some mention is made in the first letter ; and he
200 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
swore to some words that then past betwixt the Queen
and him. But what trifling, what penury of evidence was
this ! the Queen surely was not alone with Crawford upon
the road to Glasgow ; and thus other persons of her re-
tinue might have known what words past, as well as
either of them, and from them these words might have
come into the letters ; or, what hindered but Crawford
might have divulged them himself? so whether he swore
true or not as to that matter, it is the same thing. Yet
though this part of her testimony was idle, that which
follows was not so. He fell upon a way to swear to
most of the contents of that letter, without seeing it, and
it is as long as all the rest put together : and a very certain
way it was :
For he swore, " That as soon as the Queen of Scots had
spoken with the King his master at Glasgow, from time to
time, he, Crawford, was secretly informed by the King of
all things which had passed betwixt the Queen and the
King, to the intent that he should report the same to
the Earl of Lenox, his master ; because the said Earl durst
not then, for displeasure of the Queen, come abroad ! and
that he did immediately at the very time, write the same,
word by word, as near as he possibly could carry the same
away : and, sure he was, that the words now reported in his
writing, concerning the communication between the Queen
of Scots and him, upon the way near Glasgow, are the
very same words, in his conscience, that were spoken : and
that the others, reported to him by the King, were the
same in effect and substance, as they were delivered by the
King to him, though not perhaps the very words themselves.
[One would think they might have been in the very same
words.] Causa scientia patet.
The Earl of Lenox indeed was never much worth ; and if
he did not see the Queen on that occasion, it may be thought
he has not been on the mending hand. But what then? let
the gentleman's evidence be considered. Give ear, ye po-
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 201
liticians, and state judges : we have read and heard of
screwing- up an evidence to the just tone; of twisting and
torturing a letter, or the like, till it would bear the proper
intended meaning ; of straining and stretching a paragraph
of statute, till a man, perhaps not much beloved by the
great or godly, might, by a select jury, be believed to be
within the verge : but say, can it be made appear from all
your journals, that such a matchless masterly testimony, so
clear and convincing, was ever given, or received by any of
you, as that the evidence should have had a copy of a
Queen's billet-doux in his pocket, wherewith to convict her,
without ever having seen the original ; nay even before she
could have had time to write it ? Tis thought it cannot be
done. But what did I say ? a copy ! that it could not be :
they were both originals ; and the one might well have
passed for the other, had not Crawford's been subscribed,
while the other wanted the subscription.
This matter then seems to be near at a point. There is no
room left for answering. Crawford, who knew best, has
sworn clear and full : and let any man swear the contrary,
who can. So it is hoped every one is by this time fully
and entirely satisfied of the capacity and integrity as well of
Crawford the evidence, as of Murray and Morton, plaintiffs,
and of the most honourable the judges ; as also with regard
to the letters, whether they are not to be reckoned genuine ;
for there can be no doubt from the very beginning as to
Crawford's copy, because he acknowledged the writing,
and swore to it in open court: but if any reader doth not as
yet find himself convinced, he will do best to stop short
here; for all that is to follow will have no effect upon
him.
There still remains another testimony of the subsidiary
kind, which appeared not till nearly eight months after
their proof at London had been concluded ; and that arose
from two confessions of Nicholas Hubert, otherwise called
Dd
202 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
French Paris, who is said to have carried almost all the let-
ters betwixt the Queen and the Earl of Bothwell. The
last confession is here printed, it being the most material,
and clear in all points. It contains not only a particular ac-
count upon what occasions the letters were written and
sent, but also expresses his knowledge of some remarkable
points contained in them, which had been communicated to
him, with plain tokens and circumstances, as that he him-
self delivered to the Earl, not only the first letter, but also
the bracelets therein-mentioned : that letter likewise, which
is here printed in the last place, past through his hands, to-
gether with the ring that is said to be sent along with it.
In like manner he was the bearer of one of the letters for the
rape, which he delivered to the Earl out of his own hand,
and got from him an answer making for that purpose. He
gives particular and plain indications of the Queen's privity
to the contrivance and execution of the murder, which
none of the rest, who had formerly been put to death as
guilty of that crime, had ever touched upon ; for not one
of them had said a word against the Queen at all. In short,
he is as clear with relation to the Queen's guilt, both in the
murder and rape, as he is to the Earl's, with w T hom he was
present at both. So that had he been at London to bear
testimony along with Thomas Crawford, their joint evidence
would surely have appeared so clear and ample, as they
must needs have borne down all opposition, doubt or con-
tradiction ; especially when it is considered, that Paris made
this confession against his ow T n life, and was put to a cruel
death on that very account : so that it is hardly to be ima-
gined, that he would have uttered any thing that was not
strictly true.
Yet not the less, however clear and particular these testi-
monies may appear, if the letters themselves shall after all
happen to be disproved, w^hat will become of the testimo-
nies ? And how w T ill any one be able to account for them ?
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 203
'Tis manifest they must stand or fall together ; for which
reason I shall defer the consideration of the testimonies, till
the letters are first discussed.
But though these letters do by no means prove the facts
for which they were produced ; they contain several things
mean and base, highly unbecoming any woman ; but abso-
lutely impossible to have dropt from the pen of this accom-
plished Princess ; one possest of a soul so noble, born in a
station and character so highly exalted ; tenacious of her
dignity and honour, even amidst the utmost malevolence of
fortune ; and never resigning but with her last breath, the
conscious sense of virtue and decorum. Therefore, in the
next place, let us see whether it may be made appear ma-
nifestly and unanswerably, that they were none of the
Queen's writing, but the real manufacture of Murray's
own party, whose character every thing in them exactly
suits.
NICHOLAS HUBERT'S, OR FRENCH PARIS'S FIRST CONFES-
SION, 9TH AUGUST, 1569.
" I confess here before God and the world, That upon Wed-
nesday or Thursday before the Sunday of the King's mur-
der, I being in the Queen's chamber, at the Kirk of Field,
in company of divers others, abiding her coming* from the
King's chamber, my Lord Bothwell came where I was, and
rounded unto me, saying, Paris, I find me not well of my sick-
ness, the Dysentery that thou knowest. Canst thou 'not
find me out some quiet place, where I may ******? On
my faith, said I, my Lord, I was never in this chamber till
now; notwithstanding, my Lord, I shall seek out some
place : which I did : and having found a quiet nook, betwixt
two doors, I said unto him, Come on, my Lord, if you be so
hasty. And we being therein entered, I closed the door
upon us, takir?g his gown from him, and began to loose his
points. He looks to me, and asks how I did. Well, my
Lord, said I, I thank God, and you that hath caused me to
be made chamber-child of the Queen's chamber. He an-
204 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
swered me, that that was not enough , and that he would do
more for me. I said I was content, and that I desired no
more in the Queen's house, conform unto my quality, and
that I was content with the same. He answered me, that
I should want nothing whereof I should shew him : for, says
he, thou hast done me good and lawful service, since thou
hast served me, and I know thou hast hid my shame and
dishonour, where thou hadst occasion to declare the same,
when thou went from my service forth of England. My
Lord, said I, I have done nothing but the duty of a ser-
vant. Now, well Paris, said he, for as much as I have
found thee a true and faithful servant, I will tell thee one
thing, but keep it under the pain of thy life, that no
creature know thereof. My Lord, said I, it pertaineth not
to a servant to reveal his master's secrets, when he for-
biddeth him : but if ye think it be any thing that ye think
I cannot keep closs, tell it not me. Wots thou what the
matter is, saith he ? If that this King here above get on
his feet over us Lords of this realm, he would both be
masterful and cruel ; but as for us, we will not thole such
things ; and also it is not the fashion of this country ; r : nd
therefore among- us we have concluded to blow him up
with powder within this house. In hearing this I said
nothing, but looked down to the ground. My heart and
senses turned suddenly, to hear him say such things.
Then looks he to me, and says, What thinkest thou man ?
My Lord, I am thinking upon that which ye have said to
me, which is a great and no small thing. And what
thinks thou thereof, said he? What think I, my Lord,
quoth I, it mot please you, appardon me, if I shall tell,
according to my poor spirit, what I think. What wouldst
thou say, quoth he ? wouldst thou preach ? Said I, ye shall
hear. Well, said he, say on, say on.
" My Lord, said I, since these five or six years that I
have been in your service, I have seen you in great trou-
bles, and never saw any friends that did for you. And
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 205
now, my Lord, ye are furth of all your troubles, thanked
be God, and farther in court, as all the world says, than
ever ye was: and, for my part, I see every one, great
and small, make their court to you. But, I know not
who laughs upon you, that would see you otherwise. I
know not, my Lord, ye are of this country ; moreover it
is said, that ye are the greatest Lands-lord of this country;
and also, seeing* ye are married, at which time a man
should be sitten down, then or never, therefore, my Lord,
if ye take such an enterprise in hand, which is great, it
shall be the greatest trouble that ever ye had above all
others ; for every one will cry, Have at you : And ye will
see it. And well, said he, hast thou done? It mot please
you, my Lord, appardon me that I have said, according to
my poor understanding. And, beast that thou art, says he,
thinkest thou that I do it my alone, or of myself? My
Lord, said I, I know not how ye do it, but I know it shall
be the greatest trouble ever ye had. How can that be,
quoth he? for I have Lethington, who is esteemed one of
the best ingines, or spirits of his country, who is the en-
terpriser of all this thing : and then I have my Lord Ar-
gile, my Lord Himtly, my brother, my Lord of Morton,
Ruthven, and Lindesay. As for these three ones, they
will never fail me, for I spake for their grace ; and I have
the hand- writs of all those that I have told thee of; and
also we were willing to have done it the last time that we
were at Craigmillar : but thou art but a beast, and a silly
poor spirit, and not worthy to understand or know any
thing of consequence. Faith, my Lord, said I, it is true ;
for my spirit serveth me not for such things, but rather to
do you service in all that I may. Now, well, well, my
Lord, they may well make you master and principal of the
deed, but, when it is done, they may happen to lay all
the whole upon you, and then shall be the first that shall
cry, Ha, ha, at you; yea and them that shall put you first
to death, if they may.
206 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
" But, my Lord, said I, pray you have mind of one,
whom ye have not mentioned. I know well that he is
beloved of all the commons of this country, and of us
Frenchmen : that when he governed the space of two or
three years, there were no troubles in the country: all
went well : money had the course. But now, no man is
seen that hath any money, and nought else is there now
since but troubles. He that I spoke of is wise, and hath
good friends and allies. What is he that, said he? My
Lord, said I, it is my Lord of Murray: I pray you, what
part taketh he? He will not, said he, meddle with the
matter. My Lord, said I, he is the more wise. Then he
turned about his face to me: My Lord of Murray! my
Lord of Murray ! my Lord of Murray ! he will neither
hinder us, nor help us; but all is one. Well, well, my
Lord, said I, he doth it not without cause, and ye will see
it. Hereupon he commanded me to take the key of the
Queen's chamber-door in the Kirk of Field. I refusing ;
wherefore then, said he, have I placed you in the Queen's
chamber, but to draw service out of thee ? Alas, my Lord,
said I, it is to do you service in all things, so far as I may :
but I thought with myself, and said nothing, (because I
feared him) if I had known this thbg, the chamber
should never have chambered me. And thereupon he
went from me forth of that hole, w T here he had ****.
" In this mean time, viz. on Sunday at night, long after
supper, come John Hepburn and John Hay, and knock
at the door, and entered where I was, and brought powder
with them in pocks, and laid it down in the midst of the
chamber: in doing of which my Lord of Bothwell came
down to them, and said, Lord God ! what a din ye make !
They may hear above all that ye do. And so he looks,
and sees me, and asks me what I was doing there, and bad
me follow him up to the King's chamber ; which I did,
and came and stood beside my Lord of Argile, w r ith whom
my Lord Bothwell was speaking. The Queen went to-
goodall.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 207
ward the Abbay, and went up where Bastian's bridel was,
and I was up in a nook, where my Lord of Bothwell
came to me, and asked, what ailed me to gloom so, and
to be so sad, and that I made such a gloomy countenance
before the Queen? he should graith me in such a sort,
as I never was in my life. I care not, my Lord, said I,
what ye do to me now, beseeching- you to give me leave
to go to bed, for I am sick. Nay, said he, I will that ye
come with me. Thereupon he went into his chamber,
and after changing clothes, he went forth, taking with
him the tailor and me ; and so went and entered within
the garden of the King's lodging : the tailor stood still by
the wall-side, and I beside him. My Lord Bothwell came
to the garden door, and then came again to us, where
also John Hay and John Hepburn came ; and incontinent,
by they had spoken with him, behold ! like a tempest and
a great thunder-clap rose up. For fright I fell to the
ground, and my hair stood prick-up like elsons. Alas, my
Lord, said I, what is this? I said I had been at many
great interprises, but never interprise feared me so much
as this hath done. By my faith, said I, such a thing as
this will never have a good end, and ye will see it. O
beast ! said he to me, and boasted to strike at me with his
whinger ; but he drew it not out.
" Thereupon he began to make speedily away, and we
after him. He thought to have past over the wall at
Leith-wynd, but he could not. Then sent he John Hep-
burn to the porter, and caused the port to be opened.
Then went he down the backside of the Canongate ; and
John Hay and we went down the high-gate : then said I,
John Hay, of such as this will never come good. It is
true, says he, we have greatly offended God : but what
remedy? we must shew our selves vertuous, and pray
to God.
" Bothwell, in his high chamber in the Abbay, sent
the tailor for me, where were the laird of Ormeston, Hob
208 LOVE LETTERS OF [goodall.
Ormeston, John Hepburn, Dalgleish, Powrie, and I. My
Lord asked if I had promised any thing to the King. Nay,
my Lord, quoth I. Seest thou not these Gentlemen, quoth
he, &c. who have abandoned all for my service ? And if
thou thinkest that thou hast offended God, the same lieth
not to thy charge, but to mine, who caused thee to do it :
for it is the Lords of this country it self, who, with me,
have committed this crime ; and, for all the pains that
can be put to you, ye must never tell this again. If ye
have will to go your way, ye shall depart right soon, and
be recompensed." *
I have now given the substance of Mr. GoodalFs vindi-
cation ; and I take my leave of that writer, by citing the
concluding observations of his Preface, by which it will
appear the compiler and advocate was not without his
prejudices.
" But whatever has been said, to the disparagement of
that Princess, or whoever said it, signifies nothing: for
Mary Queen of Scots so far excelled all other Sovereign
Princes who ever yet appeared on the face of the earth,
that, as if she had not been of mortal nature, all the arts
and contrivances of her numerous and malicious enemies
have not availed to fix upon her one crime, shall I say,
nay, not one single foible, either while on the throne, or
in the jail, from her cradle to her grave, unless the want
of omniscience or omnipotence shall be reckoned in her a
defect. This is the very truth : and this can and shall be
made manifest, to the admiration and satisfaction of all
good men, and to the shame and confusion of all others,
who shall ever, in time coming, dare to gainsay/'
I shall not enter upon the critical examination of the
Letters with Goodall. I leave my readers to form their
own conclusion.
* Vide Cotton. Lib. Calieula, B. 9. folio 370.
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 209
A CRITICAL DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE MURDER OF
KING HENRY, AND THE GENUINENESS OF THE QUEEN'S
LETTERS TO BOTHWELL. BY WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D.D.
It is not my intention to engage in all the controversies,
to which the murder of King Henry, or the letters from
Mary to Bothwell, have given rise ; far less to appear as an
adversary to any particular author, who hath treated of
them. To repeat, and to expose all the ill-founded asser-
tions with regard to these points, which have flowed from
inattention, from prejudice, from partiality, from malevo-
lence, and from dishonesty, would be no less irksome to
myself, than unacceptable to most of my readers. All I
propose is, to assist others in forming some judgment con-
cerning the facts in dispute, by stating the proofs produced
on each side, with as much brevity as the case will admit,
and with the same attention and impartiality, which I have
endeavoured to exercise in examining other controverted
points in the Scottish history.
In order to account for the King's murder, two different
systems have been formed. The one supposes Bothwell to
have contrived and executed this crime. The other imputes
it to the Earls of Murray, Morton, and their party.
The decision of many controverted facts in history, is a
matter rather of curiosity than of use. They stand de-
tached ; and whatever we determine with regard to them,
the fabric of the story remains untouched. But the fact
under dispute in this place is a fundamental and essential
one, and according to the opinion which an Historian
adopts with regard to it, he must vary and dispose the whole
of his subsequent narration. An historical system may be
tried in two different ways, whether it be consistent with
probability, and whether it be supported by proper evi-
dence.
E e
210 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
Those who charge the King's murder upon Bothwell
argue in the following manner ; and though their reasonings
have been mentioned already in different places of the nar-
rative, it is necessary to repeat them here. Mary's love for
Darnley, say they, was a sudden and youthful passion.
The beauty of his person was his chief merit. His capri-
cious temper soon raised in the Queen a disgust, which
broke out on different occasions. His engaging in the con-
spiracy against Rizio, converted this disgust into an indig-
nation, which she was at no pains to conceal. This breach
was perhaps, in its own nature, irreparable ; the King cer-
tainly wanted that art and condescension which alone could
have repaired it. It widened every day, and a deep and
settled hatred effaced all remains of affection. Bothwell
observed this, and was prompted by ambition, and perhaps
by love, to found on it a scheme, which proved fatal both to
the Queen, and to himself. He had served Mary at different
times with fidelity and success. He insinuated himself into
her favour, by address and by flattery. By degrees he
gained her heart. In order to gratify his love, at least his
ambition, it was necessary to get rid of the King. Mary
had rejected the proposal made to her for obtaining a
divorce. The King was equally hated by the partizans of
the house of Hamilton, a considerable party in the
kingdom; by Murray, one of the most powerful and
popular persons in his country; by Morton and his as-
sociates, whom he had deceived; and whom Bothwell
had bound to his interest by a recent favour. Among
the people Darnley was fallen under extreme contempt.
He expected, for all these reasons, that the murder of the
king would pass without any enquiry. And to Mary's
love, and to his own address and good fortune, he trusted
for the accomplishment of the rest of his wishes. What
Bothwell expected really came to pass. Mary, if not privy
herself to the design, connived at an action which rid her
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 21 1
of a man whom she had such good reason to detest. A few
months after, she married the person who was both sus-
pected and accused of committing' the murder.
Those Who charge the guilt upon Murray and his party*
reason tin this manner. Murray, say they, was a man of
boundless ambition. Notwithstanding the illegitimacy of
his birth, he had early formed a design of usurping the
Crown. On the Queen's return into Scotland* he insinuated
himself into her favour, and engrossed the whole power
into his own hands. He set himself against every proposal
of marriage that was made to her, lest his own chance of
succeeding to the crown should be destroyed. He hated
Darnley, and was no less hated by him. In order to be re-
venged on him, he entered into a sudden friendship with
Both well, his ancient and mortal enemy. He encouraged
him to perpetrate the crime, by giving him hopes of mar-
rying the Queen. All this was done with a design to throw
upon the Queen herself the imputation of being accessary
to the murder, and under that pretext, to destroy Both-
well, to depose and imprison her, and to seize the sceptre,
which he had wrested out of her hands.
The former of these systems has an air of probability, is
consistent with itself, and solves appearances. In the latter,
some assertions are false, some links are wanting in the
chain, and effects appear, of which no sufficient cause is
produced. Murray, on the Queen's return into Scotland,
served her with great fidelity, and by his prudent adminis-
tration rendered her so popular, and so powerful, as ena-
bled her with ease to quash a formidable insurrection raised
by himself in the year 1565. What motive could induce
Murray to murder a Prince without capacity, without fol-
lowers, without influence over the nobles, whom the
Queen, by her neglect, had reduced to the lowest state of
contempt, and who, after a long disgrace,, had regained
(according to the most favourable supposition) the preca-
rious possession of her favour only a few days before his
212 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
death ? It is difficult to conceive what Murray had to fear
from the King's life. It is no easy matter to guess what
he could gain by his death. If we suppose that the
Queen had no previous attachment to Bothwell, nothing
can appear more chimerical than a scheme to persuade her
to marry a man, whose wife was still alive, and who was
not only suspected, but accused, of murdering her former
husband. But that such a scheme should really succeed, is
still more extraordinary. If Murray had instigated Both-
well to commit the crime, or had himself been accessary
to the commission of it, what hopes were there that
Bothwell would silently bear from a fellow criminal all
the persecutions which he suffered, without ever re-
torting upon him the accusation, or revealing the whole
scene of iniquity? An antient and deadly feud had sub-
sisted between Murray and Bothwell ; the Queen with
difficulty had brought them to some terms of agreement.
But is it probable that Murray would chuse an enemy, to
whom he had been so lately reconciled, for his confidant
in the commission of such an atrocious crime ? Or, on the
other hand, would it ever enter into the imagination of a
wise man, first to raise his rival to supreme power, in
hopes that afterwards he should find some opportunity of
depriving him of that power ? The most adventurous politi-
cian never hazarded such a dangerous experiment. The
most credulous folly never trusted such an uncertain chance.
But however strong these general reasonings may be,
we must decide according to the particular evidence pro-
duced. This we now proceed to examine.
That Bothwell was guilty of the King's murder appears,
I . From the concurring testimony of all the cotemporary
historians. 2. From the confession of those persons who
suffered for assisting at the commission of the crime, and
who enter into a minute detail of all its circumstances.
Anders, v. 2. 165. 3. From the acknowledgment of Mary's
own Commissioners, who allow Bothwell to have been
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 213
one of those who were guilty of this crime. Good. v. 2.
213. 4. From the express testimony of Lesley Bishop of
Ross, to the same effect with the former. Def. of Q. Mary's
Hon. An. 2. 76. Id. v. §. p. 31. 5. Morton, at his death,
declared that Bothwell had solicited him, at different
times, to concur in the conspiracy formed against the life
of the King ; and that he was informed by Archibald
Douglas, one of the conspirators, that Bothwell was pre-
sent at the murder. Crawf. Mem. App. 4. The letter
from Douglas to the Queen, published in the Appendix to
Vol. II. No. 12. confirms Morton's testimony. 6. Lord
Herreis' promises, in his own name, and in the name of the
nobles who adhered to the Queen, that they would concur
in punishing Bothwell as the murderer of the King. Ap-
pend. Vol. I. No. 23.
The most direct charge ever brought against Murray
is in these words of Bishop Lesley : " Is it unknown," ad-
dressing himself to the Earl of Murray, " what the Lord
Herreis said to your face openly, even at your own table,
a few days after the murder was committed ? Did he not
charge you with the foreknowledge of the same murder?
Did not he, nulla circuitione usus, flatly and plainly
burden you, that riding in Fife, and coming with one of
your most assured and trusty servants the same day whereon
you departed from Edinburgh, said to him, among other
talk, This night ere morning Lord Darnley shall lose his
life ?" Defence of Queen Mary, Anders, v. 2. 75. But
the assertion of a man so heated with faction as Lesley,
unless it were supported by proper evidence, is of little
weight. The servant to whom Murray is said to have
spoken these words, is not named; nor the manner in
which this secret conversation was brought to light men-
tioned. Lord Herreis was one of the most zealous ad-
vocates for Mary, and it is remarkable that in all his ne-
gotiation at the Court of England, he never once re-
peated this accusation of Murray. In answering the chal-
214 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
lenge given him by Lord Lindsay, Herreis had a fair oppor-
tunity of mentioning Murray's knowledge of the murder \
but though he openly accuses of that crime some of those
who adhered to him, he industriously avoids any insinua-
tion against Murray himself. Keith Pref. XII. Mary
herself, in a conversation with Sir Francis Knolles, ac-
cused Morton and Maitland of being privy to the murder,
but does not mention Murray. And. 4, 55. When the
Bishop of Ross and Lord Herreis themselves appeared be-
fore the English Council, January 11, 1569, they declared
themselves ready, in obedience to the Queen's command,
to accuse Murray and his associates of being accessary to
the murder, but " they being also required, whether they
or any of them, as of themselves, would accuse the said
Earl in special, or any of his adherents, or thought them
guilty thereof;" they answered, " that they took God to
witness that none of them did ever know any thing of the
conspiracy of that murder, or were in Council and fore-
knowledge thereof; neither who were devisers, inventors,
and executors of the same, till it was publicly discovered
long thereafter by some of the assassins who suffered death
on that account." Good. v. 2. 308. These words are
taken out of a register kept by Ross and Herreis them-
selves, and seem to be a direct confutation of the Bishop's
assertion. The Bishop himself repeats the same thing in
still stronger terms. And. 3. 31.
The Earls of Huntly and Argyll, in their Protestation
touching the murder of the King of Scots, after men-
tioning the conference at Craigmillar concerning a divorce,
of which we have given an account, Vol. I. 330. add " So
after these premisses, the murder of the King following,
we judge in our consciences, and hold for certain and truth,
that the Earl of Murray and Secretary Lethington were
authors, inventors, counsellors, and causers of the same
murder, in what manner, or by whatsomever persons the
same was executed." Anders, v. 4. 188. But,. 1. This is
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 215
nothing more than the private opinion or personal affirma-
tion of these two noblemen. 2. The conclusion which
they make has no connection with the premisses on which
they found it. Because Murray proposed to obtain for the
Queen a divorce from her husband with her own consent,
it does not follow that therefore he committed the murder
without her knowledge. 3. Huntly and Argyll were at
that time the leaders of that party opposite to Murray, and
animated with all the rage of faction. 4. Both of them
were Murray's personal enemies. Huntly, on account of
the treatment which his family and clan had received from
that nobleman. Argyll was desirous of being divorced
from his wife, with whom he lived on no good terms.
Knox, 328. and by whom he had no children. Crawf.
Peer. 19. She was Murray's sister, and by his interest he
had obstructed that design. Keith, 551. These circum-
stances would go far towards invalidating a positive testi-
mony ; they more than counterbalance an indeterminate
suspicion. 5. It is altogether uncertain whether Huntly
and Argyll ever subscribed this protestation. A copy of
such a protestation as the Queen thought would be of
advantage to her cause, was transmitted to them by her.
Anders, v. 4. 186. The protestation itself, published by
Anderson, is taken from an unsubscribed copy, with blanks
for the date and place of subscribing. On the back of
this copy is pasted a paper, which Cecil has marked " An-
swer of the Earl of Murray to a writing of the Earls of
Huntly and Argyll." Anders. 194, 195. But it can scarce
be esteemed a reply to the above-mentioned protestation.
Murray's answer bears date at London, January 19, 1568.
The Queen's letter, in which she inclosed the copy of the
protestation, bears date at Bowton, Jan. 5, 1568. Now it
is scarce to be supposed that the copy could be sent into
Scotland, be subscribed by the two Earls, and be seen
and answered by Murray within so short a time. Murray's
reply seems intended only to prevent the impression which
216 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
vague and uncertain accusations of his enemies might make
in his absence. Cecil had got the original of the Queen's
letter into his custody. Anders, vol. 4. 186. This natu-
rally leads us to conjecture that the letter itself, together
with the inclosed protestation, were intercepted before
they came to the hands of Huntly and Argyll. Nor is
this mere conjecture alone. The letter to Huntly, in
which the protestation was inclosed, is to be found, Cott.
Lib. Cal. C. 1. fol. 280, and is an original subscribed by Mary,
though not written with her own hand, because she sel-
dom chose to write in the English language. The pro-
testation is in the same volume, fol. 282, and is manifestly
written by the same person who wrote the Queen's letter.
This is a clear proof that both were intercepted. So that
much has been founded on a paper not subscribed by the
two Earls, and probably never seen by them. Besides,
this method which the Queen took of sending a copy, to
the two Earls, of what was proper for them to declare
with regard to a conference held in their own presence,
appears somewhat suspicious. It would have been more
natural, and not so liable to any misinterpretation, to
have desired them to write the most exact account, which
they could recollect of what had passed in the conver-
sation at Craigmillar.
The Queen's Commissioners at the Conferences in Eng-
land accused Murray and his associates of having mur-
dered the King. Good. 2. 281. But these accusations are
nothing more than loose and general affirmations, without
descending to such particular circumstances, as either
ascertain their truth, or discover their falsehood. The
same accusation is repeated by the nobles assembled at
Dumbarton, Sept. 1568. Good. 2. 359. And the same
observation may be made concerning it.
All the Queen's advocates have endeavoured to ac-
count for Murray's murdering of the King, by supposing
that it was done on purpose, that he might have a pre-
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 217
tence of disturbing- the Queen's Administration, and thereby
rendering* ineffectual her general Revocation of Crown
lands, which would have deprived him and his associates
of the best part of their estates. Lesley Def. of Mary's
Hon. p. 73. But whoever considers the limited powers
of a Scottish Monarch, will see that such a revocation
could not be very formidable to the nobles. Every King
of Scotland began his reign with such a revocation ; and
as often as it was renewed, the power of the nobles ren-
dered it ineffectual. The best vindication of Murray and
his party from this accusation, is that which they pre-
sented to the Queen of England, and which hath never
hitherto been published.
Answers to the objections and ailedgance of the Queen,
alledging the Earl of Murray Lord Regent, the Earls of
Morton, Marr, Glencairn, Hume, Ruthven, &c. to have
been moved to armour, for that they abhorred and
might not abide her revocation of the alienation made
of her property,
PAPER OFFICE.
It is answered, that is alledged but all appearance, and
it appears God has bereft the ailedgance of all wit and
good remembrance, for thir reasons following :
Imprimis, as to my Lord Regent, he never had occa-
sion to grudge thereat, in respect the Queen made him
privy to the same, and took resolution with him for the
execution thereof, letting his Lordship know she would
assuredly in the samine except all things she had given to
him, and ratefy them in the next Parliament, as she did
indeed ; and for that cause wished my Lord to leave be-
hind him Master John Wood, to attend upon the same, to
whom she declared, that als well in that as in all others
her grants it should be provided, yea of free will did
promise and offer before ever he demanded, as it came to
pass without any let or impediment, for all was ratified
f f
218 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
by her command, and hand- write, at the parliament, but
any difficulty.
Item as to my Lord of Morton, he could not grudge
thereat quha never had of her property worth twenty dol-
lars that ever I knew of.
Item the same, may I say of my Lord Glencairn.
Item the same, I may say of my Lord Hume.
Item the same, I may say of my Lord Ruthven.
Item the same, I may say of my Lord Lindsay.
Only my Lord of Marr, had ane little thing of the pro-
perty quilk alsua was gladly and liberally confirmed to
him, in the said parliament preceeding a year ; was never
ane had any cause of miscontent of that revocation, far less
to have put their lives ane heritage to so open and manifest
ane danger as they did for sic ane frivole cause.
Gyf ever any did make evill countenance, and show any
miscontentment of the said revocation, it was my Lord of
Argyll in speciall, quha spak largely in the time of parlia-
ment theiranents to the Queen herself, and did complain of
the manifest corruption of ane act of parliament past upon her
majesty's return, and sa did lett any revocation at that
time ; but the armor for revenge of the King's deid was
not till twa months after, att quhat time there was no
occasion given thereof, nor never a' man had mind thereof.
Having thus examined the evidence which has been pro-
duced against the Earls of Murray and Bothwell, we shall
next proceed to enquire whether the Queen herself was ac-
cessory to the murder of her husband.
No sooner was the violent death of Darnly known, than
strong- suspicions arose, among some of her subjects, that
Mary had given her consent to the commission of that crime.
And. 2. 156. We are informed, by her own ambassador in
France, the Archbishop of Glasgow, that the sentiments
of foreigners, on this head, were no less unfavourable to
her. Keith, Pref. ix. Many of her nobles loudly accused
her of that crime, and a great part of the nation, by sup-
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 219
porting them, seem to have allowed the accusation to be
well founded.
Some crimes, however, are of such a nature, that they
scarce admit of a positive or direct proof. Deeds of dark-
ness can seldom be brought perfectly to light. Where per-
sons are accused not of being principals, but only of being
accessaries to a crime ; not of having committed it themselves,
but only of giving consent to the commission of it by
others; the proof becomes still more difficult: and unless
when some accomplice betrays the secret, a proof by cir-
cumstances, or presumptive evidence, is all that can be at-
tained. Even in judicial trials, such evidence is sometimes
held to be sufficient for condemning criminals. The degree
of conviction which such evidence carries along with it, is
often not inferior to that which arises from positive testimo-
ny ; and a concurring series of circumstances satisfies the
understanding no less than the express declaration of wit-
nesses.
Evidence of both these kinds has been produced against
Mary. We shall first consider that which is founded upon
circumstances alone.
Some of these suspicious circumstances preceded the
King's death ; others were subsequent to it. With regard
to the former, we may observe that the Queen's violent love
of Darnley was soon converted into an aversion to him no
less violent; and that his own ill conduct, and excesses of
every kind, were such, that if they did not justify, at least
they account for this sudden change of her disposition to-
wards him. The rise and progress of this domestic rupture,
I have traced with great care in the history, and to the
proofs of it which may be found in papers published by
other authors, I have added those contained in App. No.
XVI. and XVII. The Earls of Murray, Morton, Bothwell,
Argyll, and Huntly, considered the scheme of procuring for
the Queen a divorce from her husband, as one of the most
flattering proposals they could make to her, and employed
220 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
it as the most powerful inducement to prevail on her to
consent to a measure, which they had much at heart,
but from which they knew her to be extremely averse.
And. 4. p. 2. 188. Du Croc the French ambassador, who
was an eye-witness of what he describes, not only repre-
sents her disgust to Darnley to be extreme, but declares
that there could be no hopes of a reconcilement between
them. " The Queen is in the hands of physicians, and I
do assure you is not at all well ; and do believe the princi-
pal part of her disease to consist in deep grief and sorrow :
nor does it seem possible to make her forget the same.
Still she repeats these words, *" I could wish to be dead."
You know very well that the injury she has received is ex-
ceeding great, and her majesty will never forget it. To
speak my mind freely to you, I do not expect, upon seve-
ral accounts, any good understanding between them [i. e.
the King and Queen] unless God effectually put to his
hand. His bad deportment is incurable, nor can there ever
be any good expected from him for several reasons, which
I might tell you was I present with you. I cannot pre-
tend to foretell how all may turn, but I will say, that mat-
ters cannot subsist long as they are, without being accom-
panied with sundry bad consequences." Keith, Pref. vii.
Had Henry died a natural death, at this juncture, it must
have been considered as a very fortunate event to the Queen,
and as a seasonable deliverance from a husband who had
become altogether odious to her. Now as Henry was
murdered a few weeks afterwards, and as nothing had hap-
pened to render the Queen's aversion to him less violent,
the opinion of those who consider Mary as the author of an
event, which was manifestly so agreeable to her, will ap-
pear, perhaps, to some of our readers to be neither unnatural
nor over refined. If we add to this, what has been observed in
the history, that in proportion to the increase of Mary's
hatred of her husband, Bothwell made progress in her fa-
vour ; and that he became the object not only of her conn-
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 221
dence but her attachment, that opinion acquires new
strength. It is easy to observe many advantages which
might redound to Mary as well as to Bothwell from the
King's death ; but excepting them,, no person and no party
in the kingdom could derive ^the least benefit from that
event. Bothwell, accordingly, murdered the King, and
it was, in that age, thought no violent imputation on
Mary's character, to suppose that she had consented to the
deed.
The steps which the Queen took after her husband's
death, add strength to that supposition. 1. Melvil, who
was in Edinburgh at the time of the King's death, asserts
that " every body suspected the Earl of Bothwell ; and
those who durst speak freely to others, said plainly that it
was He." P. 155. 2. Mary having issued a proclamation,
on the 12th of February, offering a reward to any person,
who should discover those who had murdered her husband ;
And. 1. 36. a paper in answer to this was affixed to the
gates of the Tolbooth, February 16, in which Bothwell
was named as the chief person guilty of that crime, and
the Queen herself was accused of having given her consent
to it. And. 2. 156. 3. Soon after, February 20, the Earl
of Lennox, the King's father, wrote to Mary, conjuring
her, by every motive, to prosecute the murderers with the'
utmost rigour. He plainly declared his own suspicions of
Bothwell, and pointed out a method of proceeding against
him, and for discovering the other authors of the crime, no
less obvious than equitable. He advised her to seize, and
to commit to sure custody, Bothwell himself, and those who
were already named as his accomplices : to call an assem-
bly of the noble ; to issue a proclamation, inviting' Both-
well's accusers to appear ; and if, on that encouragement,
no person appeared to accuse them, to hold them as inno-
cent, and to dismiss them without farther trial. And. 1. 40.
4. Archbishop Beatoun, her ambassador in France, ill a
letter to Mary, March 9th, employs arguments of the ut-
222 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertsow,
most weight to persuade her to prosecute the murderers
with the greatest severity. " I can conclude nathing, (says
he) by quhat zour majesty writes to me zourself, that sen
it has plesit God to conserve zow to make a rigorous ven-
geance thereof, that rather than it be not actually taine, it
appears to me better in this warld that ze had lost life and
all. I ask your majestie pardon that I writ sa far, for I
can heir nathing to zour prejudise, but I man constraindly
writ the samin, that all may come to zour knawledge ; for
the better remede may be put therto. Heir it is needfull
that ze forth shaw now rather than ever of before, the
greite vertue, magnanimitie, and Constance that God has
grantit zow, be quhais grace, I hope ze sail overcome this
most heavy envie and displesir of the committing thereof,
and conserve that reputation in all g-odliness, ze have con-
quist of lang, quhich can appear na wayis mair clearlie,
than that zow do sick justice that the haill world may de-
clare zowr innocence, and give testimony forever of thair
treason that has committed (but fear of God or man) so
cruel and ungodlie a murther, quhairof there is sa meikle
ill spoken, that I am constrainit to ask zow mercy, that nei-
ther can I or will I make the rehearsal therof, which is owr
odious. But alas! madame, all over Europe this day there
is na purpose in head sa frequent as of zour majestie, and of
the present state of your realm, quhilk is in the most part
interpretit sinisterly." Keith, Pref. ix. 5. Elizabeth, as
appears from Append. Vol. I. No. XIX. urged the same
thing in strong terms. 6. The circumstances of the
case itself, no less than these solicitations and remon-
strances, called for the utmost vigour in her proceedings.
Her husband had been murdered in a cruel manner, almost
in her own presence. Her subjects were filled with the
utmost horror at that crime. Bothwell, one of her princi-
pal favourites, had been publicly accused as the author of
it. Reflections, extremely dishonourable to herself, had
been thrown out. If indignation, and the love of justice,
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 223
did not prompt her to pursue the murderers with ardour,
decency, at least, and concern for vindicating- her own cha-
racter, should have induced her to avoid any appearance of
remissness or want of zeal.
But instead of this, Mary continued to discover, in all her
actions, the utmost partiality towards Bothwell. 1. On
the 15th of February, five days after the murder, she be-
stowed on him the reversion of the superiority of the town
of Leith, which in the year 1565 she had mortgaged to the
citizens of Edinburgh. This grant was of much importance,
as it gave him not only the command of the principal port
in the kingdom, but a great ascendant over the citizens of
Edinburgh, who were extremely desirous of keeping pos-
session of it. 2. Bothwell being extremely desirous to ob-
tain the command of the castle of Edinburgh, the Queen,
in order to prevail on the Earl of Mar to surrender the go-
vernment of it, offered to commit the young prince to his
custody. Mar consented; and she instantly appointed
Bothwell governor of the castle. And. 1. Pref. 64. Keith,
379. 3. The inquiry into the murder, previous to Both-
well's trial, seems to have been conducted with the utmost
remissness. Buchanan exclaims loudly against this. And.
2. 24. Nor was it without reason that he did so, as is
evident from a circumstance in the affidavit of Thomas
Nelson, one of the King's servants, who was in the house
when his master was murdered, and was dug up alive out
of the rubbish. Being examined on the Monday after the
King's death, " This deponar schew that Bonkle had the
key of the sellare, and the Queenis servandis the keyis of
her shalmir. Quhilk the Laird of Tillibardin hearing, said,
Hald thair, here is ane ground. Efter quhilk words spokin,
thai left of, and procedit na farther in the inquisition.'
And. 4. p. 2. 167. Had there been any intention to search
into the bottom of the matter, a circumstance of so much
importance merited the most careful enquiry. 4. Notwith-
standing Lennox's repeated sollicitations, notwithstanding
224 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
the reasonableness of his demands, and the necessity of
complying with them, in order to encourage any accuser
to appear against Bothwell, she not only refused to commit
him to custody, or even to remove him from her presence
and councils ; And. 1. 42, 48. but by the grants which we
have mentioned, and by other circumstances, discovered an
increase of attachment to him. 5. She could not avoid
bringing Both well to a public trial ; but she permitted him
to sit as a member in that meeting of the Privy Council,
which directed his own trial ; and the trial itself was car-
ried on with such unnecessary precipitancy, and with so
many other suspicious circumstances, as to render his acquit-
tal rather an argument of his guilt than a proof of his inno-
cence. These circumstances have all been mentioned at
length, vol. I. p. 403, &c. and therefore are not repeated in
this place. 6. Two days after the trial, Mary gave a public
proof of her regard for Bothwell, by appointing him to
carry the sceptre before her at the meeting of Parliament.
Keith, 3/8. 7- In that parliament, she granted him a rati-
fication of all the vast possessions and honours which she
had conferred upon him, in which was contained an ample
enumeration of all the services he had performed, And. 1.
117. 8. Though Melvil, who foresaw that her attachment
to Bothwell would at length induce her to marry him,
warned her of the infamy and danger which would attend
that action, she not only disregarded this salutary admoni-
tion, but discovered what had passed between them to
Bothwell, which exposed Melvil to his indignation. Melv.
156. 9. Bothwell seized Mary as she returned from Stir-
ling, April 24. If he had done this without her knowledge
and consent, such an insult could not have failed to have
filled her with the most violent indignation. But accord-
ing to the account of an old MS. " The friendly love was so
highly contracted between this great princess and her enor-
mous subject, that there was no end thereof (for it was con-
stantly esteemed by all men that either of them loved other
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 225
carnally), so that she suffered patiently to be led where the
lover list, and all the way neither made obstacle, impedi-
ment, clamour or resistance, as in such accidents use to be,
or that she might have done by her princely authority, be-
ing- accompanied with the noble Earl of Huntly, and Se-
cretary Maitland of Lethington." Keith, 383. Melvil,
who was present, confirms this account, and tells us that
the officer, by whom he was seized, informed him that no-
thing was done without the Queen's consent. Mel v. 158.
10. On the 12th of May, a few days before her marriage,
Mary declared that she was then at full liberty, and that
though Bothwell had offended her by seizing- her person,
she was so much satisfied with his dutiful behaviour since
that time, and so indebted to him for past services, that she
not only forg-ave that offence, but resolved to promote him
to hig-her honours. And. 1. 187. 11* Even after the con-
federate nobles had driven Bothwell from the Queen's pre-
sence, and though she saw that he was considered as the
murderer of her former husband by so great a part of her
subjects, her affection did not in the least abate, and she
continued to express the most unalterable attachment to
him. " I can perceive (says Sir N. Throgmorton) that the
rigour with which the Queen is kept, proceedeth by order
from these men, because that the Queen will not by any
means be induced to lend her authority to prosecute the
murder ; nor will not consent by any persuasion to aban-
don the Lord Bothwell for her husband, but avoweth con-
stantly that she will live and die with him ; and saith that
if it were put to her choice to relinquish her crown and
kingdom, or the Lord Bothwell, she would leave her king-
dom and dignity to g*o a simple damsel with him, and that
she will never consent that he shall fare worse, or have
more harm than herself." App. p. 42. See also p. 44.
From this long enumeration of circumstances, we may,
without violence, draw the following conclusion. Had
Mary really been accessary to the murder of her husband ;
G £•
226 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
had Bothwell perpetrated the crime with her consent, or
at her command ; and had she intended to stifle the evi-
dence against him, and to prevent the discovery of his guilt,
she could scarce have taken any other steps than those she
took, nor could her conduct have been more repugnant to
all the maxims of prudence and of decency.
The positive evidence produced against Mary may be
classed under two heads.
1. The depositions of some persons who were employed
in committing the murder, particularly of Nicholas Hu-
bert, who in the writings of that age is called French Paris.
This person, who was Both well's servant, and much trusted
by him, was twice examined, and the original of one of his
depositions, and a copy of the other, are still extant. It
is pretended that both these are notorious forgeries. But
they are remarkable for a simplicity and naivete which it is
almost impossible to imitate : they abound with a number
of minute facts and particularities, which the most dexter-
ous forger could not have easily assembled, and connected
together with any appearance of probability ; and they are
filled with circumstances, which can scarce be supposed to
have entered the imagination of any man, but one of Paris's
profession and character. But, at the same time, it must
be acknowledged that his depositions contain some impro-
bable circumstances. He seems to have been a foolish talka-
tive fellow ; the fear of death ; the violence of torture ; and
the desire of pleasing those in whose power he was, tempted
him, perhaps, to feign some circumstances, and to exagge-
rate others. To say that some circumstances in an affidavit
are improbable or false, is very different from saying that
the whole is forged. I suspect the former to be the case
here ; but I see no appearance of the latter. Be that as it
will, some of the most material facts in Paris's affidavits rest
upon his single testimony ; and for that reason, I have not
in the history, nor shall I in this place, lay any stress upon
them.
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 227
2. The letters said to be written by Mary to Bothwell.
These have been frequently published. The accident, by *
which the Queen's enemies got them into their possession,
is related Vol. I. 435. When the authenticity of any ancient
paper is dubious or contested, it may be ascertained either
by external or internal evidence. Both these have been
produced in the present case.
I. External proofs of the genuineness of Mary's letters.
1 . Murray and the nobles who adhered to him affirm, upon
their word and honour, that the letters were written with
the Queen's own hand, with which they were well ac-
quainted. Good. 2. 64, 92. 2. The letters were publicly
produced in the parliament of Scotland, December, 1567,
Good. 2. 360 ; and were so far considered as genuine, that
they are mentioned, in the act against Mary, as one chief
argument of her guilt. Good. 2. 66. 3. They were shewn
privately to the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Sussex, and
Sir Ralph Sadler, Elizabeth's commissioners at York. In
the account which they give of this matter to their mistress,
they seem to consider the letters as genuine, and express
no suspicion of any forgery ; they particularly observe,
" that the matter contained in them is such that it could
hardly be invented and devised by any other than herself ;
for that they discourse of somethings, which were unknown
to any other than to herself and Bothwell ; and as it is hard
to counterfeit so many, so the matter of them, and the
manner how these men came by them is such, as it seemeth
that God, in whose sight murder and bloodshed of the in-
nocent is abominable, would not permit the same to be hid
or concealed." Good. 2. 142. They seem to have made
such an impression on the Duke of Norfolk, that in a subse-
quent letter to Pembroke, Leicester and Cecil, he has these
words, " If the matter shall be thought as detestable and
manifest to you, as, for aught we can perceive, it seemeth
here to us." Good. 2. 154. 4. After the conferences at
York and Westminster were finished, Elizabeth resolved to
228 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
call together the Earls who were then at court, and to lay
aefore them the whole proceedings against the Scottish
Queen, particularly that ' ' the letters and writing- exhibited
by the Regent, as the Queen of Scots' letters and writings,
should also be shewed, and conference [i. e. comparison]
thereof made in their sight, with the letters of the said
Queen's being extant, and heretofore written with her
own hand, and sent to the Queen's majesty : whereby may
be searched and examined what difference is betwixt them/'
Good. 2. 252. They assembled accordingly, at Hampton
Court, December 14 and 15 1568; and "The originals
of the letters supposed to be written with the Queen of
Scots own hand, w T ere then also presently produced and pe-
rused ; and being read, were duly conferred and compared,
for the manner of writing, and fashion of orthography, with
sundry other letters long since heretofore written, and
sent by the said Queen of Scots to the Queen's Majesty
In collation whereof no difference was found." Good. 2.
256. 5. Mary having written an apologetical letter for her
conduct to the Countess of Lennox, July 10, 1570*, she
* Mary's letter has never been published, and ought to have a place
here, where evidence on all sides is fairly produced. " Madam, if
the wrang and false reportis of rebellis, enemeis weill kwawin for
traitouris to zow, and alace to muche trusted of me by zoure advice,
had not so far sturred you aganis my innocency, (and I must say
aganis all kyndness, that zow have not onelie as it were condempnit
me wrangfullie, bot so hated me, as some wordis and opene deideis
hes testifeit to all the warlde, a manyfest mislyking in zow aganis
zour awn blude) I wold not have omittit thus lang my dewtie in
wryting to zow excusing me of those untrew reporties made of me.
But hoping with Godis grace and tyme to have my innocency knawin
to zow, as I trust it is already to the maist pairt of all indifferent
personis, I thocht it best not to trouble zow for a tyme till that such
a matter is moved that tuichis us bayth, quhilk is the transporting
zoure littil son, and my onelie child in this countrey. To the quhilk
albeit T be never sa willing, I wald be glaid to have, zoure advyse
therein, as in all uther thingis tuiching him. I have born him, and
God knawis with quhat danger to him and me boith ; and of zow he
is descendit. So I meane not to forzet my dewtie to zow, in schewin
herein any unkyndness to zow, how unkyndlie that ever ze have delt
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 229
transmitted it to her husband then in Scotland ; and he re-
turned to the Countess the following- answer : " Seeing' you
have remittit to me, to answer the Queen the King's mo-
ther's letters sent to you, what can I say but that I do not
marvell to see hir writ the best she can for hirself, to seame
to purge hir of that, quhairof many besyde me are certainly
persuadit of the contrary, and I not only assurit by my awin
knawledge, but by her handwrit, the confessionis of men
gone to the death, and uther infallibil experience. It wull
be lang tyme that is hable to put a mattir so notorious in
oblivioun, to mak black quhyte, or innocency to appear
quhair the contrary is sa weill knawin. The maist indiffe-
rent, I trust, doubtis not of the equitie of zoure and my
cause, and of the just occasioun of our mislyking. Hir
richt dewtie to zow and me, being the parteis interest, were
hir trew confessioun and unfeyned repentance of that la-
mentable fact, odious for hir to be reportit, and sorrowfull
for us to think of. God is just, and will not in the end be
abused ; but as he has manifested the trewth, so will he
puneise the iniquity." Lennox's Orig. Regist. of Letters.
In their public papers, the Queen's enemies may be sus-
pected of advancing what would be most subservient to their
cause ; not what was agreeable to truth, or what flowed
from their own inward conviction. But in a private letter
to his own wife, Lennox had no occasion to dissemble ; and
it is plain, that he not only thought the Queen guilty, but
believed the authenticity of her letters to Both well.
with me, bot will love zow as my awnt, and respect zow as my
moder in law. And gif ye pies to knaw farther of my mynd in that
and all uther thingis betwixt us, my ambassador the bishop of Ross
sail be ready to confer with zow. And so after my hairtlie commen-
dationis, remitting me to my saide ambassador, and zour better con-
sideratioun, I commit zow to the protectioun of Almyghty God,
quhom I pray to preserve zow and my brother Charles, and caus
zow to knaw my pairt better nor ze do. From Chatisworth this x of
July 1570.
To my Ladie Lennox Youre natural gude Nice
my moder in law. and lovynge dochter. M. R.
230 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
II. With regard to the internal proofs of the 'genuine-
ness of the Queen's letters to Bothwell, we may observe,
1. That whenever a paper is forged with a particular in-
tention, the eagerness of the forger to establish the point
in view, his solicitude to cut off all doubts and cavils, and
to avoid any appearance of uncertainty, always prompt
him to use expressions the most explicit and full to his
purpose. The passages foisted into ancient authors by
Heretics in different ages ; the legendary miracles of the
Romish saints; the supposititious deeds in their own fa-
vour produced by monasteries ; the false charters of homage
mentioned Vol. I. p. 13. are so many "proofs of this as-
sertion. No maxim seems to be more certain than this,
that a forger is often apt to prove too much, but seldom
falls into the error of proving too little. The point which
the Queen's enemies had to establish, was " that as the
Earl of Bothwell was chief executor of the horrible and
unworthy murder perpetrated, &c. so was she of the fore-
knowledge, counsel, device, persuader, and commander
of the said murder to be done." Good. 2. 207. But of
this there are only imperfect hints, obscure intimations,
and dark expressions in the letters, which however con-
vincing evidence they might furnish if found in real letters,
bear no resemblance to that glare and superfluity of evi-
dence which forgeries commonly contain. All the advo-
cates for Mary's innocence in her own age, contend that
there is nothing in the letters which can serve as a proof
of her guilt. Lesley, Blackwood, Turner, &c. abound
with passages to this purpose ; nor are the sentiments of
those in the present age different. " Yet still it might
have been expected (says her latest defender) that some
one or other of the points or articles of the accusation
should be made out clearly by the proof. But nothing of
that is to be seen in the present case. There is nothing
in t the letters, that could plainly shew the writer to have
been in the foreknowledge, counsel, or device of any
robertson.J MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 231
murder, far less to have persuaded or commanded it ; and
as little is there about maintaining- or justifying any mur-
derers." Good. 1. 76. How ill advised were Mary's ad-
versaries to contract so much guilt, and to practise so
many artifices in order to forge letters, which are so ill
contrived for establishing the conclusion they had in view ?
Had they been so base as to have recourse to forgery, is it
not natural to think that they would have produced some-
thing more explicit and decisive ? 2. As it is almost im-
possible to invent a long narration consisting of many cir-
cumstances, and to connect it in such a manner with real
facts, that no mark of fraud shall appear ; for this reason
skilful forgers avoid any long detail of circumstances,
especially of foreign and superfluous ones, well knowing
that the more these are multiplied, the more are the
chances of detection increased. Now Mary's letters, espe-
cially the first, are filled with a multiplicity of circum-
stances, extremely natural in a real correspondence, but
altogether foreign to the purpose of the Queen's enemies,
and which it would have been extreme folly to have in-
serted if they had been altogether imaginary, and without
foundation. 3. The truth and reality of several circum-
stances in the letters, and these, too, of no very public
nature, are confirmed by undoubted collateral evidence.
Lett. 1. Good. 2. p. 1. The Queen is said to have met
one of Lennox's gentlemen, and to have some conversa-
tion with him. Thomas Crawford, who was the person,
appeared before Elizabeth's Commissioners, and con-
firmed, upon oath, the truth of this circumstance. He
likewise declared, that during the Queen's stay at Glasgow,
the King repeated to him, every night, whatever had
passed, through the day, between her Majesty and him,
and that the account given of these conversations in the
first letter, is nearly the same with what the King com-
municated to him. Good. 2. 245. According to the same
letter there was much discourse between the King: and
232 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
Queen concerning Mynto, Hiegait, and Walcar. Good. 2.
8, 10, 11. What this might be, was altogether unknown,
till a letter of Mary's preserved in the Scottish college at
Paris, and published, Keith, Pref. vii. discovered it to be
an affair of so much importance as merited all the at-
tention she paid to it at that time. It appears by a letter
from the French Ambassador, that Mary was subject to a
violent pain in her side. Keith, ibid. This circumstance
is mentioned, Lett. 1. p. 30. in a manner so natural as can
scarce belong to any but a genuine production. 4. If we
shall still think it probable to suppose that so many real
circumstances were artfully introduced into the letters by
the forgers, in order to give an air of authenticity to their
production ; it will scarce be possible to hold the same
opinion concerning the following particular. Before the
Queen began her first letter to Bothwell, she, as is usual
among those who write long letters containing a variety
of subjects, made notes or memorandums of the parti-
culars she wished to remember ; but as she sat up writing
during a great part of the night, and after her attendants
were asleep, her paper failed her, and she continued her
letter upon the same sheet, on which she had formerly
made her memorandums. This she herself takes notice of,
and makes an apology for it : " It is late ; I desire never to
cease from writing unto you, yet now after the kissing of
your hands, I will end my letter. Excuse my evil writing,
and read it twice over. Excuse that thing that is scriblit,
for I had na paper zesterday, quhen I wrait that of the
memorial." Good 2. 28. These memorandums still appear
in the middle of the letter ; and what we have said seems
naturally to account for the manner how they might find
their way into a real letter. It is scarce to be supposed,
however, that any forger would think of placing memo-
randums in the middle of a letter, where, at first sight,
they make so absurd and so unnatural an appearance.
But if any shall still carry their refinement so far, as to
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 233
suppose that the forgers were so artful to throw in this
circumstance, in order to preserve the appearance of
genuineness, they must at least allow that the Queen's
enemies, who employed these forgers, could not be ig-
norant of the design and meaning of these short notes and
memorandums ; but we find them mistaking them so far
as to imagine that they were the credit of the bearer, i. e.
points concerning- which the Queen had given him verbal
instructions. Good. 2. 152. This they cannot possibly be ;
for the Queen herself writes with so much exactness con-
cerning the different points in the memorandums, that
there was no need of giving any credit or instructions to
the bearer concerning them. The memorandums are in-
deed the contents of the letter. 5. Mary, mentioning her
conversation with the King about the affair of Mynto,
Hiegait, &c. says, " The morne [i.e. to morrow] I will
speik to him upon that point ;" and then adds, " As to the
rest of Willie Hiegait's, he confessit it ; but it was the
morne [i. e. morning] after my cumming or he did it."
Good. 2. 9. This addition, which could not have been
made till after the conversation happened, seems either to
have been inserted by the Queen into the body of the
letter, or, perhaps, she having written it on the margin,
it was taken thence into the text. If we suppose the
letter to be a real one, and written at different times, as
it plainly bears, this circumstance appears to be very na-
tural ; but no reason could have induced a forger to have
ventured upon such an anachronism, for which there was
no necessity. An addition, perfectly similar to this, made
to a genuine paper, may be found, Good. 2. 282.
But, on the other hand, Mary herself and the advocates
for her innocence have contended that these letters were
forged by her enemies, on purpose to blast her reputation,
and to justify their own rebellion. It is not necessary to
take notice of the arguments which were produced, in her
own age, in support of this opinion ; the observations
Hh
234 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
which we have already made, contain a full reply to them.
An author, who has enquired into the affairs of that pe-
riod with great industry, and who has acquired much
knowledge of them, has lately published (as he affirms)
a demonstration of the forgery of Mary's letters. This
demonstration he founds upon evidence both internal and
external. With regard to the former he observes, that
the French copy of the Queen's letters is plainly a transla-
tion of Buchanan's Latin copy; which Latin copy is only
a translation of the Scottish copy ; and by consequence,
the assertion of the Queen's enemies, that she wrote them
originally in French, is altogether groundless, and the
whole letters are gross forgeries. He accounts for this
strange succession of translations, by supposing that when
the forgery was projected, no person could be found ca-
pable of writing originally in the French language letters
which would pass for the Queen's ; for that reason they
were first composed in Scottish ; but unluckily the French
interpreter, it would seem, did not understand that lan-
guage; and therefore Buchanan translated them into
Latin, and from his Latin they were rendered into French.
Good. 1. 79. 80.
It is scarce necessary to observe, that no proof whatever
is produced of any of these suppositions. The manners of
the Scots, in that age, when almost every man of rank
spent a part of his youth in France, and the intercourse
between the two nations was great, render it altogether
improbable that so many complicated operations should
be necessary, in order to procure a few letters to be
written in the French language.
But without insisting farther on this, we may observe,
that all this author's premisses may be granted, and yet his
conclusion will not follow, unless he likewise prove that
the French letters, as we now have them, are a true copy
of those which were produced by Murray and his party in
the Scottish Parliament, and at York and Westminster.
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 235
But this he has not attempted ; and if we attend to the
history of the letters, such an attempt, it is obvious, must
have been unsuccessful. The letters were first published
at the end of Buchanan's Detection. The first edition of
this treatise was in Latin, in which language three of the
Queen's letters were subjoined to it ; this Latin edition
was printed A. D. 1571. Soon after a Scottish translation
of it was published, and at the end of it were printed,
likewise in Scottish, the three letters which had formerly
appeared in Latin, and five other letters in Scottish, which
were not in the Latin edition. Next appeared a French
translation of the Detection, and of seven of the letters ;
this bears to have been printed at Edinburgh by Thomas
Waltem, 1572. The name of the place, as well as of the
printer, is allowed by all parties to be a manifest impos-
ture. Our author, from observing the day of the month,
on which the printing is said to have been finished, has as-
serted that this edition was printed at London; but no
stress can be laid upon a date found in a book, where every
other circumstance with regard to the printing is allowed
to be false. Blackwood, who (next to Lesley) was the
best informed of all Mary's advocates in that age, affirms
that the French edition of the Detection was published in
France : " II [Buchanan] a depuis adjouste a ceste decla-
mation un petit libelle du pretendu mariage du Due de
Norfolk, et de la facon de son proces, et la tout envoy e
aux freres a la Rochelle, lesquels voyants qu'il pouvoit
servir a la cause, Pont traduit en Francois, et iceluy fut
imprimee a Edinbourg, e'est a dire a la Rochelle, par
Thomas Waltem, nom aposte et fait a plaisir. Martyre de
Marie. Jebb. 2. 256." The author of the Innocence de
Marie goes farther, and names the French translator of
the Detection, f Et iceluy premierement compose (com-
me il semble) par George Buchanan Escossoys, et depuis
traduit en langue Franchise par un Hugonot, Poitevin (ad-
236 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
vocat de vocation) Camuz, soy disant gentilhomme, et un
de plus remarquez sediteux de France. Jebb. I. 425, 443."
The concurring* testimony of two cotemporary authors,
whose residence in France afforded them sufficient means of
information, must outweigh a slight conjecture. This
French translator does not pretend to publish the original
French letters as written by the Queen herself; he ex-
pressly declares that he translated them from the Latin.
Good. 1. 103. Had our author attended to all these cir-
cumstances, he might have saved himself the labour of so
many criticisms to prove that the present French copy of
the letters is a translation from the Latin. The French
editor himself acknowledges it, and so far as I know no
person ever denied it.
We may observe that the French translator was so igno-
rant, as to affirm that Mary had written these letters, partly
in French, partly in Scottish. Good. 1. 103. Had this
translation been published at London by Cecil, or had it
been made by his direction, so gross an error would not
have been admitted into it. This error, however, was
owing* to an odd circumstance. In the Scottish translation
of the Detection, two or three sentences of the original
French were prefixed to each letter, which breaking off
with an &c. the Scottish translation of the whole followed.
This method of printing translations was not uncommon in
that age. The French editor observing this, foolishly con-
cluded that the letters had been written partly in French,
partly in Scottish.
If we carefully consider these few French sentences of
each letter which still remain, and apply to them that
species of criticism, by which our author has examined
the whole, a clear proof will arise, that there was a French
copy not translated from the Latin, but which was itself
the original from which both the Latin and Scottish have
been translated. This minute criticism must necessarily be
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 23?
disagreeable to many readers ; but luckily a few sentences
only are to be examined, which will render it extremely
short.
In the first letter, the French sentence prefixed to it ends
with these words, yfaisoit bon. It is plain this expression,
veu ce que peut un corps san coeur, is by no means a trans-
lation of cum plane perinde essem atque corpus sine corde.
The whole sentence has a spirit and elegance in the French,
which neither the Latin nor Scottish have retained. Jus-
ques ala dinee is not a translation oHoto prandii tempore ;
the Scottish translation quhile denner-time s expresses the
sense of the French more properly ; for anciently quhile sig-
nified until as well as during. Je n'ay pas tenu grand
propos is not justly rendered neque contulerim sermonem
cum quoquam ; the phrase used in the French copy, is one
peculiar to that language, and gives a more probable ac-
count of her behaviour than the other. Jugeant bien qu'il
n' yfaisoit bon, is not a translation, or ut quijudicarent id
non esse ex usu. The French sentence prefixed to Lett. 2.
ends with apprendre. It is evident that both the Latin
and Scottish translations have omitted altogether these
words, el toutefoisje nepuis apprendre. The French]sen-
tence prefixed to Lett. 3. ends with presenter. J* aye veille
plus tard la haut is plainly no translation of diutius illic
morata sum ; the sense of the French is better expressed
by the Scottish I have walkit later there-up. Again, Pour
excuser voslre affaire is very different from ad excusandum
nostra negotia. The five remaining letters never appeared
in Latin ; nor is there any proof of their being ever trans-
lated into that language. Four of them, however, are pub-
lished in French. This intirely overturns our author's hy-
pothesis concerning the necessity of a translation into
Latin.
In the Scottish edition of the Detection the whole sonnet
is printed in French as well as in Scottish. It is not possible
to believe that this Scottish copy could be the original from
238 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
which the French was translated. The French consists of
verses which have both measure and rhyme, and which, in
many places, are far from being* inelegant. The Scottish
consists of an equal number of lines, but without measure or
rhyme. Now no man could ever think of a thing" so absurd
and impracticable, as to require one to translate a certain
given number of lines in prose into an equal number of
verses, where both measure and rhyme were to be observed.
The Scottish, on the contrary, appears manifestly to be a
translation of the French; the phrases, the idioms, and
many of the words are French, and not Scottish. Besides,
the Scottish translator has, in several instances, mistaken
the sense of the French, and in many more expresses the
sense imperfectly. Had the sonnet been forged, this could
not have happened. The directors of the fraud would
have understood their own work. I shall satisfy myself
with one example, in which there is a proof of both my as-
sertions. Stanza viii. ver. 9.
Pour luy j'attendz toute bonne fortune,
Pour luy je veux garder sante et vie
Pour luy tout vertu de suivre j'ay envie.
For him I attend all gude fortune,
For him I will conserve helthe and lyfe,
For him I desire to ensue courage.
Attend, in the first line, is not a Scottish but a French
phrase ; the two other lines do not express the sense of the
French, and the last is absolute nonsense.
The eighth letter was never translated into French. It
contains much refined mysticism about devices, a folly of
that age, of which Mary was very fond, as appears from se-
veral other circumstances, particularly from a letter con-
cerning impresas by Drummond of Hawthornden. If Mary's
adversaries forged her letters, they were certainly employed
very idly when they produced this.
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 239
From these observations it seems to be evident that there
was a French copy of Mary's letters, of which the Latin and
Scottish were only translations. Nothing now remains of
this copy but those few sentences which are prefixed to the
Scottish translation. The French editor laid hold of these
sentences, and tacked his own translation to them, which,
so far as it is his work, is a servile and a very wretched
translation of Buchanan's Latin ; whereas in those introduc-
tory sentences, we have discovered strong- marks of their
being- originals, and certain proofs that they are not trans-
lated from the Latin.
It is apparent, too, from comparing the Latin and Scot-
tish translations with these sentences, that the Scottish
translator has more perfectly attained the sense and spirit
of the French than the Latin. And as it appears that the
letters were very early translated into Scottish, Good. 2.
76 ; it is probable that Buchanan made his translation not
from the French but from the Scottish copy. Were it ne-
cessary, several critical proofs of this might be produced.
One that has been already mentioned seems decisive. Diu-
tius illic morata sum bears not the least resemblance to
fay veille plus tard la haul ; but if, instead of / walkit
[i. e. watched] latter there-up, we suppose that Buchanan
read / waitit, &c. this mistake, into which he might so
easily have fallen, accounts for the error in his translation.
These criticisms, however minute, appear to be well
founded. But whatever opinion may be formed concerning
them, the other arguments with regard to the internal evi-
dence remain in full force.
The external proof of the forgery of the Queen's letters,
which our author has produced, is extremely specious, but
not more solid than that which we have already examined.
According to Murray's diary, Mary set out from Edinburgh
to Glasgow January 21, 1567; she arrived there on the
23d ; left that place on the 27th ; she, together with the
King, reached Linlithgow on the 28th, stayed in that town
240 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
only one night, and returned to Edinburgh before the end
of the month. But according" to our author, the Queen did
not leave Edinburgh till Friday, January 24 ; as she stayed
a night at Callendar, she could not reach Glasgow sooner
than the evening of Saturday the 25th, and she returned to
Linlithgow on Tuesday the 28th* By consequence, the
first letter which supposes the Queen to have been at least
four days in Glasgow, as well as the second letter, which
bears date at Glasgow, Saturday morning, whereas she did
not arrive there till the evening, must be forgeries. That
the Queen did not set out from Edinburgh sooner than the
24th of January, is evident (as he contends) from the pub-
lic records, which contain a Precept of confirmation of a
life-rent by James Boyd to Margaret Chalmers, granted by
the Queen on the 24th of January at Edinburgh ; and like-
wise a letter of the Queen's dated at Edinburgh on the
same day, appointing James Inglis taylor to the Prince her
son. That the King and Queen had returned to Linlithgow
on the 28th, appears from a deed in which they appoint
Andrew Ferrier keeper of their palace there, dated at Lin-
lithgow, January 28. Good. 1. 118.
This has been represented to be not only a convincing,
but a legal proof of the forgery of the letters said to be
written by Mary ; but how far it falls short of this, will
appear from the following considerations.
I. It is evident from a declaration or confession made by
the Bishop of Ross, that before the conferences at York,
which were opened in the beginning of October 1568,
Mary had, by an artifice of Maitland's, got into her hands a
copy of those letters which her subjects accused her of hav-
ing written to Both well. Brown's trial of the Duke of
Norfolk, 31,36. It is highly probable that the Bishop of
Ross had seen the letters before he wrote the defence of
Queen Mary's honour in the year 1570. They were pub-
lished to all the world, together with Buchanan's Detection,
A. D. 1571. Now if they had contained any error so gross.
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 241
and so obvious, at that time, to discovery, as the supposing the
Queen to have passed several days at Glasgow,, while she was
really at Edinburgh; had they contained a letter dated at
Glasgow Saturday morning, though she did not arrive there
till the evening ; is it possible that she herself, who knew her
own motions, or the able and zealous advocates who appeared
for her in that age, should not have published and exposed
this contradiction, and, by so doing, have blasted, at once,
the credit of such an imposture ? In disquisitions which are
naturally abstruse and intricate, the ingenuity of the latest
author may discover many things, which have escaped
the attention, or baffled the sagacity of those who have
formerly considered the same subject. But when a mat-
ter of fact lay so obvious to view, this circumstance of
its being unobserved by the Queen herself, or by any of her
adherents, is almost a demonstration that there is some mis-
take or fallacy in our author's arguments. And so far are
any either of our historians, or of Mary's defenders, from
calling in question the common account concerning the
time of the Queen's setting' out to Glasgow and her return-
ing from it, that there is not the least appearance of any
difference among' them with regard to this point. But
farther,
2. Those papers in the public records, on which our au-
thor rests the proof of his assertions, concerning the Queen's
motions, are not the originals subscribed by the Queen, but
copies only, or translations of copies of those originals. It
is not necessary, nor would it be easy to render this intelli-
gible to persons unacquainted with the forms of law in
Scotland; but every Scotsman conversant in business will
understand me, when I say that the precept of confirmation
of the life-rent to Boyd is only a Latin copy or note of a
precept, which was sealed with the Privy-seal, on a war-
rant from the signet-office, proceeding on a signature which
bore date at Edinburgh the 24th of January ; and that the
deed in favour of James Inglis is the copy of a letter, sealed
with the Privy-seal, proceeding on a signature which bore
Ii
242 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
date at Edinburgh January 24. From all this we may argue
with some degree of reason, that a proof founded on papers,
which are so many removes distant from the originals, can-
not be but very lame and uncertain.
3. At that time all public papers were issued in the name
both of the King and Queen ; by law, the King's subscrip-
tion was no less requisite to any paper than the Queen's ;
and therefore unless the original signatures be produced in
order to ascertain the particular day when each of them
signed, or to prove that it was signed only by one of them,
the legal proof arising from these papers would be, that
both the King and Queen signed them at Edinburgh, on
the 24th of January.
4. The dates of the warrants or precepts issued by the
sovereign, in that age, seem to have been in a great mea-
sure arbitrary, and affixed at the pleasure of the writer ; and
of consequence, these dates were seldom accurate, are often
false, and can never be relied upon. This abuse became so
frequent, and was found to be so pernicious, that an act of
parliament, A. D. 1592, declared the affixing a false date to
a signature to be High Treason.
5. There still remain, in the public records, a great num-
ber of papers, which prove the necessity of this law, as well
as the weakness and fallacy of our author's arguments. And
though it be no easy matter, at the distance of two centu-
ries, to prove any particular date to be false, yet surprising
instances of this kind shall be produced. Nothing is more
certain from history, than that the King was at Glasgow
24th January 1567; and yet the record of signatures from
15 Go to 1582, fol. 16th, contains the copy of a signature
to Archibald Edmonston said to have been subscribed by
our Sovereigns, i. e. the King and Queen at Edinburgh, Ja-
nuary 24, 1567 ; so that if we were to trust implicitly the
dates in the records of that age, or to hold our author's ar-
gument to be good, it would prove that not only the Queen,
but the King too, was at Edinburgh on the 24th of January.
It appears from an original letter of the Bishop of Ross,
Robertson.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 243
that on the 25th of October 1566, Mary lay at the point of
death; Keith, App. 134; and yet a deed is to be found in
the public records, which bears that it was signed by the
Queen that day. Privy-seal, Lib. 35. fol. 89. Ouchter-
lony*.
Bothwell seized the Queen as she returned from Stir-
ling-, April 24th, 1567, and (according- to her own account)
carried her to Dunbar with all diligence. And. 1. 95.
But our author, relying on the dates of some papers which
he found in the records, supposes that Bothwell allowed
her to stop at Edinburgh, and transact business there. No-
thing 1 can be more improbable than this supposition. We
may therefore rank the date of the deed to Wright, Privy-
seal, Lib. 36. fol. 43. and which is mentioned by our author,
Vol. 1. 124. among the instances of the false dates of papers
which were issued in the ordinary course of business in that
age. Our author has mistaken the date of the other paper
to Forbes, ibid, it is signed April 14th, not April 24th.
If there be any point agreed upon in Mary's history, it is,
that she remained at Dunbar from the time that Bothwell
carried her thither, till she returned to Edinburgh along
with him in the beginning of May. Our author himself
allows that she resided twelve days there, Vol. 1. 367.
Now though there are deeds in the records which bear that
they were signed by the Queen at Dunbar during that time,
yet there are others which bear that they were signed at
Edinburgh ; e. g. there is one at Edinburgh, April 27th,
Privy-seal, Lib. 36. fol. 97. There are others said to be
signed at Dunbar on that day. Lib. 31. Chart. No. 524,
526. lb. lib. 32. No. 154, 157. There are some signed at
*N.B. In the former editions, another instance of the same nature
with those which go before and follow was mentioned ; but that, as
has since been discovered, was founded on a mistake of the person em-
ployed to search the records, and is therefore omitted in this edition.
The reasoning, however, in the Dissertation stands still in full force r
notwithstanding this omission.
244 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson.
Dunbar April 28th. Others at Edinburgh April 30th, Lib
32. Chart. No. 492. Others at Dunbar May 1st. Id. ibid.
No. 158. These different charters suppose the Queen to
have made so many unknown, improbable, and inconsis-
tent journeys, that they afford the clearest demonstration
that the dates in these records ought not to be depended
on.
This becomes more evident from the date of the charter
said to be signed April 27th, which happened that year to
be a Sunday, which was not, at that time, a day of busi-
ness in Scotland, as appears from the books of sederunt y
then kept by the Lords of the session.
From this short review of our author's proof of the forgery
of the letters to Bothwell, it is evident that his arguments
are far from amounting to demonstration.
Another argument against the genuineness of these let-
ters is founded on the stile and composition, which are said
to be altogether unworthy of the Queen, and unlike her
real productions. It is plain, both from the great accuracy
of composition in most of Mary's letters, and even from her
solicitude to write them in a fair hand, that she valued her-
self on those accomplishments, and was desirous of being
esteemed an elegant writer. But when she wrote at any
time in a hurry, then many marks of inaccuracy appear. A
remarkable instance of this may be found in a paper pub-
lished, Good. 2. 301. Mary's letters to Bothwell were
written in the utmost hurry ; and yet under all the disad-
vantages of a translation, they are not destitute either of
spirit or of energy. The manner in which she expresses her
love to Bothwell hath been pronounced indecent and even
shocking. But Mary's temper led her to warm expressions
of her regard ; those refinements of delicacy, which now
appear in all the commerce between the sexes, were, in
that age, but little known, even among persons of the
highest rank. Among Lord Royston's papers there is a se-
ries of letters, from Mary to the Duke of Norfolk, copied
kOBERTSON.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 245
from the Harleian Library, P. 37, B. 9. fol. 88, in which
Mary declares her love to that nobleman in language,
which would now be reckoned extremely indelicate.
The sonnets and some of Mary's letters to Bothwell
were written before the murder of her husband ; some of
them after that event, and before her marriage to Bothwell.
Those which are prior to the death of her husband abound
with the fondest expressions of her love to Bothwell, and
plainly discover that their familiarity had been extremely
criminal. We find in them, too, some dark expressions,
which her enemies employed to prove that she was no
stranger to the schemes which were forming against her
husband's life. Of this kind are the following passages :
" Alace ! I nevir dissavit any body ; bot I remit me alto-
gidder to zour will. Send me advertisement quhat I sail
do, and quhatsaever thing come therof, I sail obey zow.
Advise too with zourself, gif ze can find out ony mair
secret inventioun by medicine, for he suld tak medecine
and the bath at Craigmiliar." Good. 2. 22. " See not hir
quhais fenzeit teiris suld not be sa meikle praisit and
estemit, as the trew and faithfull travellis quhilk I sustene
for to merite hir place. For obtaining of the quhilk,
aganis my natural, I betrayis thame that may impesche
me. God forgive me," &c. ibid. 27- " I have walkit laiter
thairup, than I wald have done, gif it had not been to
draw something out of him, quhilk this berer will schaw
zow, quhilk is the fairest commodity that can be offerit to
excuse zour affairis." Ibid 32. From the letters posterior
to the death of her husband, it is evident that the scheme
of BothwelPs seizing Mary by force, and carrying her
along with him, was contrived in concert with herself, and
with her approbation.
Having thus stated the proof on both sides ; having ex-
amined at so great length the different systems with regard
to the facts in controversy ; it may be expected that I
should now pronounce sentence. In my opinion, there are
246 LOVE LETTERS OF [robertson,
only two conclusions, which can be drawn from the facts
which have been enumerated.
One, that Bothwell, prompted by his ambition or love,
encouraged by the Queen's known aversion to her hus-
band, and presuming on her attachment to himself, struck
the blow without having concerted with her the manner
or circumstances of perpetrating that crime. That Mary,
instead of testifying much indignation at the deed, or dis-
covering any resentment against Bothwell, who was ac-
cused of having committed it, continued to load him with
marks of her regard, conducted his trial in such a manner
as rendered it impossible to discover his guilt, and soon
after, in opposition to all the maxims of decency or of
prudence, voluntarily agreed to a marriage with him,
which every consideration should have induced her to de-
test. By this verdict, Mary is not pronounced guilty of
having contrived the murder of her husband, or even of
having previously given her consent to his death ; but she
is not acquitted of having discovered her approbation of
the deed, by her behaviour towards him who was the
author of it.
The other conclusion is that which Murray and his ad-
herents laboured to establish, " That as James, sumtyme
Erie of Bothwile, was the chiefe executor of the hor-
ribill and unworthy murder, perpetrat in the person of
umquhile King Henry of gude memory, fader to our So-
veraigne Lord, and the Queenis lauchfull husband ; sa
was she of the foreknowledge, counsall, devise, per-
swadar and commandar of the said murder to be done."
Good. 2. 207.
Which of these conclusions is most agreeable to the
evidence, that has been produced, I leave my readers to
determine.
Nothing need be added to this impartial statement of
the case : let us now see what will be urged by Tytler.
tytler.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 247
EXTRACTS FROM TYTLER's ENQUIRY.
The sudden death of King Francis effected a melancholy
change in the affairs of the young Queen of Scots in
France. Queen Mary, to the finest parts, a graceful
carriage, and easy and dignified manners, joined the most
beautiful figure of any woman of the age. Her wit and
affability had gained the hearts of the French. By her
interest and influence, her uncles the Princes of Lorraine
swayed the Councils of King Francis. The Queen-mc-
ther, the famous Katherine of Medicis, who during the
short period of the reign of Francis had, with reluctance,
given place to her daughter-in-law, now resumed her
former sway, and studied to give every mortifying proof
of neglect to the Queen of Scots. Mary, conscious of
her dignity, had too much spirit to brook degradation.
She determined to comply with the solicitation of her own
subjects, and returned to Scotland, where she was received
with the greatest demonstrations of joy.
Behold now this young Queen, at the age of nineteen,
alone, a stranger, and almost without a friend, in her
own dominions ! in the midst of a people fierce and rude !
the nobles, proud and almost independent, whom her fa-
ther, the high-spirited James, found himself unable to
control ! the major part of the nation, of the new reli-
gion, were led by the clergy, a rigid, morose, and illiberal
set of men ; conscious of their power over the people, and
jealous of the Queen as the protector of the Catholic re-
ligion. In this situation it would have been no easy
matter for a Prince endued with the greatest wisdom and
fortitude to have sat easy on so tottering a throne : what
then was to expected from the unexperienced years and
248 LOVE LETTERS OF [tytler.
sex of so young* a Princess, thus beset with dangers on
every side? Yet such was the prudent conduct of this
young 1 Queen, her affable and winning* carriage, and her
native dignity, tempered with easy politeness of manners,
that she not only commanded respect, but gained the
hearts of her subjects: so that had Mary had no other
difficulties, to have encountered, these, by her good con-
duct and government, she would have conquered. But
she had still a more dangerous and formidable enemy to
struggle with — Elizabeth Queen of England.
Let us look at a Summary and Trial of the Evidence.
The learned and judicious Bayle has made a very just
observation on the case of Queen Mary and her adversa-
ries : " One of two things (says that author) must have
been the case ; either that they who forced that Princess
out of her kingdom, were the greatest villains in nature ;
or that she was the most infamous of women. These are
two scales of a balance, equally poised ; you cannot load
the one without lightening the other precisely to the same
degree. In the same manner, whatever serves to acquit
the Queen, aggravates the guilt of her enemies in the
same proportion ; and whatever serves to load the Queen,
extenuates their crime in a like degree."
Here then we have a just balance, in which the case of
Mary and her accusers may with certainty be weighed,
and by this standard judged and determined with great
exactness.
The weights to be put in the scales are, the proofs which
were exhibited by the Earls of Murray and Morton, of the
crimes with which they charged their Queen ; which are
likewise to be considered as the proofs of their own justifi-
cation, for rising in arms against their Sovereign, for impri-
soning her, and, finally, for the long train of her cala-
mities, and death, all consequent to their rebellion.
The scales being now fairly loaded, and the balance
tvtler.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 249
exactly poised, let us carefully examine the weights, be-
fore we pretend to abstract one grain from the scales. One
scruple taken from either of them, must alter the poise.
If then we take out the heaviest weight, and put it in the
opposite scale, that directly preponderates, the other
flies up.
We shall, therefore, begin with examining the heaviest
weight in the scale against the Queen, that is, her letters
to Bothwell : and, to avoid all imputation of partiality,
let us try them according to the rules of equity, as in a
court of justice, by hearing both sides. We begin with
the accusers.
1. The Earl of Morton at first produced those letters,
and affirmed, on his word of honour, that his servants
seized them in the custody of George Dalgleish, one of
BothwelPs servants, who had brought them out of the
Castle of Edinburgh.
2. The Earls of Murray and Morton affirm, on their ho-
nour, that they are the hand-writing of the Queen, both
in their own Secret Council, and in the Regent's Parlia-
ment in Scotland, and before Queen Elizabeth and her
Council in England.
3. They are produced at York and Westminster to the
English Council, and compared with other letters of
Mary's hand- writing, and appear to be similar to them.
4. And lastly, several of the incidents mentioned in the
letters themselves, such as the conversations between the
King and Queen at Glasgow, are, by Crawford, one of the
Earl of Lennox's vassals, affirmed, upon oath, to be true.
Such are the proofs brought in support of the letters.
Let us now turn to the other side, and hear what are the
answers, and the objections made to them on the part of
Queen Mary.
1. Queen Mary denies the letters to be her hand-
writing, and asserts them to be forged by her accusers,
Murray, Morton, and Lethington ; and offers to prove this.
k k
250 LOVE LETTERS OF [tytler.
2. Morton's bare affirmation of the way in which the
letters came into his hands, as he is a party, can never in
equity be regarded. Nay, the letters appearing first in
his hands, was of itself suspicious. Besides, his stifling
the evidence of Dalgleish, or forbearing to interrogate
him judicially, how he came by these letters, which would
have put this affair in a true light ; and his neglecting to
examine his own servants publicly, who seized Dalgleish
with the box, as to what they knew of that affair ; and,
in place of the legal declaration of those who were the
only proper witnesses to prove this fact, obtruding his
own affirmation only : these omissions, I say, double the
suspicion, that he himself, and his faction, were the con-
trivers of the letters.
3. The affirmation of Murray and Morton on the authen-
ticity of the letters, both in Scotland and England, can
bear no greater degree of credit, than Queen Mary's de-
nial, and the affirmation of herself, and most of the no-
bility of Scotland, that those letters were forged.
4. The similarity of one hand-writing to another, is
such a proof as no man can be certain of: far less in the case
of these letters, appearing in so clandestine a way, in the
hands of Morton, the Queen's inveterate enemy and ac-
cuser. Add to this, what is affirmed by Mary, that her
enemies had often counterfeited letters in her name ; which
is corroborated by a contemporary author, who relates it
as a well-known fact, that Lethington, her Secretary, had
often practised this vile fraud.
5. That several of the incidents mentioned in the let-
ters might be very true, is not denied. The plan of the
forgers was surely to intersperse truth with falsehood.
Crawford's testimony on the truth of several of the inci-
dents mentioned in the letters might therefore be true, and
yet the letters themselves might be forged.
But the objections to the letters on the part of the Queen,
are of a different nature.
tytler.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 251
1. The letters, as exhibited by Murray and Morton,
wanted the dates, place from which they were written,
the subscriptions, seals, and addresses. Could any judge
or jury, then, have admitted these letters as authentic, and as
written by Queen Mary to the Earl of Bothwell, upon the
bare word of her accuser ?
2. The only proof they could have brought to support
their affirmation, was by the oath of Hubert, that he got
the letters from the Queen's own hand, and delivered
them to Bothwell ; and by Dalgleish, that he got them
from Sir James Balfour, in the Castle of Edinburgh, and
was carrying them to Bothwell ; and lastly, by Morton's
servants, who seized Dalgleish with the box and letters.
It is impossible, therefore, to frame any plausible reason,
why these several persons were not called upon to prove
these facts, but this only, that there was not a word of
truth in the story.
3. The letters are produced in public, under different
dresses. Before the Secret Council, they bear to be sub-
scribed by the Queen's hand ; in their second appearance,
before Regent Murray's Parliament, they want the sub-
scription altogether. This is proved by the acts of Coun-
cil, and of Parliament, in the registers.
4. While the conferences were going on at York, the
letters were privately, and in secret conference, shown
by Lethington and Buchanan, to the English Commis-
sioners, but carefully concealed from Queen Mary and her
Commissioners.
5. The Queen, on the first hearing of those letters, ear-
nestly supplicates to have inspection of the originals, and
to be allowed copies: from which she offers to prove
them to be forged and spurious. Both requests are re-
fused to her, the letters are delivered back to her accusers,
and to her dying day she never could get a sight of these
originals, or attested copies of them.
6. The letters, of which copies only are now extant,
252 LOVE LETTERS OF [tytler.
are, to demonstration, proved, and forced to be acknow-
ledged, even by the writers against the Queen, to be pal-
pable translations from the Scotch and Latin of George
Buchanan.
And, lastly, Murray and Morton, the Queen's accusers,
in order to make good their charge or accusation against
the Queen, have produced false and forged evidence, viz.
Hubert's confession, which we have proved to be a forgery :
from whence the same presumption, had we no other
proof against the letters, must arise, that they are forged
likewise. +
Such are the proofs on both sides for and against the
authenticity of the letters. Let us now put the question
to any impartial person who understands the nature of
evidence, would those letters, found in the custody of
Morton, destitute of subscription, seal, and address, and in
the face of so many other unsurmountable objections,
have been sustained as genuine authentic writings, in any
court of law or justice, upon the bare appearance or simi-
larity of the Queen's hand-writing, and the naked word
of Murray and Morton the accusers ? I am not afraid of
the imputation of rashness, wiien I venture to say, that at
this day, I am convinced that no impartial jury, or judge,
could, upon conscience, have given judgment for these
letters as genuine, and returned a verdict and sentence in
their favour as such.
If this is the case, I think, with Monsieur Bayle's ap-
probation, he himself holding the balance, I may venture
to take this weight from Murray and Morton's scale, and
put it into Queen's. The case then is determined at once,
the scale is turned in favour of the Queen. But still there
remains another w T eight against her, that is, Hubert's
confession: this we have so recently proved to be a
forgery, that it is needless here to recapitulate the objec-
tions to a piece of manufacture abounding with so many
absurdities and improbabilities (as Dr. Robertson acknow-
tytler.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 253
ledges), and altogether destitute of every essential re-
quisite to a judicial paper. If this weight is taken from
Murray and Morton's scale, and put to the Queen's, what
then remains in the opposite? Nothing but conjectures,
arguments a priori, and inferences drawn from false pre-
mises, all as light as air ! The Queen's scale, then, pre-
ponderates ; that of her adversaries flies up, and kicks the
beam.
254 LOVE LETTERS OF [wHitaker.
EXTRACTS FROM WHITAKER's VINDICATION.
I shall give more of the Reverend Gentleman's opinions
than I give of any other author, because he is at once the
most zealous and prejudiced advocate of Mary. I wish my
enemies no greater toil than the perusal of his thousands of
misrepresentations, quibblings, cavillings, and repetitions
— echoed by his follower, Mr. Chalmers.
One great infelicity of Mary's life w r as this, that she had
a brother. He was indeed a bastard. He was, therefore,
precluded from all possibility of mounting the throne. But
he was precluded only by laws. These alone created the
impossibility. And laws might be reversed by power.
He appears to have been a man of strong and vigorous
parts. They were of that kind, however, which are most
common in the w r orld, and which shew themselves more in
the weakness of others, than in their own strength. His
vigour was art, not intellect. His parts were a sagacity of
genius, which pointed out all the artifice of insidi-
ousness to him ; a dexterity of mind, which enabled
him to use that artifice with great success ; and a
versatility of spirit, which qualified him for disguis-
ing both to the eyes of the world. With only the title
to distinction, which his bastard alliance to the crown lent
him ; with only the slender possessions of a bastard, to
communicate power ; and with only the slight connections
of a bastard to furnish influence ; he raised himself supe-
rior to his sovereign, and he seated himself on her throne.
He had the address, likewise, to make the most cunning and
the most ambitious of his cotemporaries, to be subservient
to his cunning, and ministerial to his ambition ; to commit
the enormities themselves, which were necessary to his
purposes ; and even to dip their hands in murder, that he
might enjoy the sovereignty. But he displayed an address,
still greater than this. Though he had not one principle of
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 255
religion within him : though he had not even one grain of
honour in his soul ; and though he was guilty of those more
monstrous crimes, against which God has peculiarly de-
nounced damnation ; yet he was denominated a good man
by the Reformers at the time, and he has been considered
as an honest man by numbers to our days.
He felt the solicitations of ambition stirring within him,
so early and so strongly, that, before he was seventeen, he
entered into a correspondence with the court of England,
and engaged in a traitorous conspiracy with it, against his
country, his sovereign, and his family. Such a youth was
sure to be a man uncommonly busy and factious. He was
then a mere ecclesiastic, however, with the title of the
Prior of St. Andrew's. The laws of the church bending-
too readily before the pressure of the state, admitted such
young ecclesiastics then, and still admit them, within the
regions of popery He was settled in the church by his
royal father, to keep him out of all secular employments,
and to prevent all disturbances from his ambition and birth.
He afterward obtained another priory, that of Pittenween,
in his own country ; and a third, that of Mascon, in France.
He had a dispensation from the Pope for his bastardy,
which unqualified him, as it now unqualifies, for possessing
any of the endowments of the Church. He had also a bull
from the Pope, for holding his French priory together with
his Scotch preferments. And he took the usual oath of obe-
dience to the Pope.
But the peaceful duties of a divine could never have sa-
tisfied the keen and restless temper of his spirits. What-
ever the sagacity of James the Fifth foresaw, and whatever his
prudence endeavoured to avert, by shrouding him in a cas-
sock, and fixing him in a stall, all was realized. The tur-
bulent activity of his son's soul, broke through every re-
straint ; the churchman became secularized ; the Prior
was transformed into an Earl ; and the bastard proved
eventually the curse of his father's family. His genius
256 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
called him out to those scenes principally, where he might
have a play for his activity in cunning', and might give a
scope to his turbulence in intrigue. He took his station
on the forbidden ground near the throne. His talents for
business recommended him to the service of it ; and his am-
bition kept a steady eye upon it. The distracted state of
the nation was congenial to a spirit like his. He loved the
mazes of political life. He loved to thicken the shades,
and to entangle the walks, more and more. He loved to
stand himself upon an eminence, in the centre of his own
labyrinths ; to view all about him, embarrassed by the dif-
ficulties which he himself had made ; and to enjoy the
distress which he himself was occasioning at the moment.
He loved still more, and with a more sanguinary cunning,
to raise a tempest around him ; to direct it at the heads of
those, who stood in the way of his aspiring thoughts ; and
to sit all the while, seemingly unconcerned in the work.
And when the reformation broke out in all its wildness and
strength, he closed in with it : put on the sanctified air of a
reformer, wrapped himself up in a long cloak of puritanism,
attached all the popular leaders among the clergy to him,
and prepared to make them his useful steps to the throne.
But even all this united, could not have been effectual to
the ruin of Mary. She met with the additional misfortune
of having a cousin and a female upon a neighbouring throne.
England was then governed by Elizabeth. Her character
was very different from Mary's. In all the stronger and
deeper lineaments of the mind, it was much superior.
But it was much inferior also, in all the amiable, the ele-
gant, and the dignified graces of the heart and under-
standing. With a turn of religion, which gave her a
predilection for protestantism, she could have induced
herself, I fear, either to continue the idolatrous devotions of
popery, to adopt the manly service of the church of Eng-
land, or to take up the wild worship of the puritans, just
as the scale of her interest had strongly inclined. The
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 257
voice of her subjects was for the second. She, therefore,
became a mother to religion and the church. Yet her re-
gard for either was not sufficient to keep her from acts of
oppression to the one, and from deeds of outrage to the
other. She was busy through her whole reign, in robbing
the church of its possessions, by every petty trick of sa-
crilegious imposition which she could play upon it, and by
every bolder exertion of sacrilegious authority which she
could make against it. Her private life, too, was stained
with gross licentiousness. The maiden Queen had many
gallants. And her politicks were one vast system of chi-
cane and wrong, to all the nations about her.
She was particularly fond of embarrassing them with dis-
sensions among themselves, that she might be secure from
their attempts upon her. This low and ungenerous kind
of management, indeed, shelters itself with the many, who
have virtue enough to startle at an open knavery, under the
dignified appellation of necessity. But let us not injure our
hearts, by imposing upon our understandings. Dishonesty
is never necessary. God never did, God never will create
a necessity for knavery. Man alone does this, and then has
the impudence to charge his own forgery upon God. But
Elizabeth and her ministers, I doubt not, whatever they might
pretend to the virtuous body of the nation, triumphed in
the happy inventiveness of their souls for mischief; exulted
over their long and laboured trains of misery ; and con-
sidered themselves as the wise and intelligent spirits of the
creation, who sat in their orbs, presided over their elements,
and regulated the movements of all with their fingers.
They knew not that they were thus making themselves the
very daemons of vengeance, to all within the sphere of their
activity. They reflected not, that history would in time
break through the clouds, in which they had wrapped
themselves up for their mischievous purposes ; and expose
them in their fiend-like operations, to the gaze of men.
And while the subjects of Elizabeth were applauding the
Li
258 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
stratagems of policy, which she was practising- upon the
states around them ; and were enjoying their success, in the
tranquillity of their own country, and in the distractions of
others : they were little aware, that the hour was soon to
come, when by the just retributions of an indignant Provi-
dence, those states should play back upon us the stratagems,
which had been practised upon them; should foment
disturbances among us, by the same arts of unhallowed
wisdom ; should triumph over us with an equal success
from them ; and should help to work us up, into all the
frenzy of fanaticks, and into all the insanity of regicides.
May the strong and awful retaliation be a lesson of national
wisdom for ages.
Elizabeth, however, had some special grounds of ani-
mosity against Mary. The latter had a title, such as it
was, to the throne of the former. This was naturally pre-
ferred by the prejudices of the papist, to the right of Eli-
zabeth herself. Mary had even assumed the arms and ap-
pellation of Queen of England, when she was Queen of
France. And though she had forborne to take them, ever
since she became her own mistress ; Elizabeth had none of
that generosity about her, which could forgive. She had
been alarmed. She was still alarmed. The papists conti-
nued the claim, though Mary resigned it. She might one
day see a formidable competitor for the crown in her, sup-
ported by all the popish faction in the island, and seconded
by all the popish powers on the continent. Elizabeth's life
was a life of mischief and of misery ; of mischief to others,
in the plots which she was always forming against them ;
and of misery to herself, in the fears and apprehensions
which she was always entertaining of them. She was
continually forging schemes of malignity against them,
from some visionary fears of her own concerning them.
She then changed her visionary into real fears, from the
jealousies which she conceived of their retaliating upon her ;
and she was finally obliged to fabricate new schemes of
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 259
mischief against them, in order to prevent or to counteract
the designs, which she was sure they would form against
her, because she was sensible they had every right to form
them. Thus does Providence punish the insidious with airy
suspicions at first, torment them with well-grounded jea-
lousies afterwards, and curse them at last with the success
of their own machinations.
But this was not all. In the eyes of both papists and
protestants, Mary had a right of eventual succession to the
crown. If Elizabeth should die without legitimate issue,
by all the principles of the constitution, Mary was to fill
her place. The expectation of this, made Mary to resign
the other. And, by the hope of this, Elizabeth might
have managed her completely. But that Queen had a
weakness, often incident to strong passions and little reli-
gion. She viewed her successor as such, with an eye of
malignity. She could not bear to see another ready, even
after her death, to step into the vacant throne. She,
therefore, kept the succession undetermined to the last.
She thus endangered all the happiness of her kingdom,
merely for the gratification of her humour. She suffered
the law of Henry her father, which in a gust of ill-will,
and in a freak of tyranny, had broke throug-h the natural
course of descent, and cut off the race of Scotland from
the succession, still to remain unrepealed against them ;
though she had once had the same sort of law, and from
the same kind of principle, made against herself. She was
the genuine daughter of Henry ! She carried the impres-
sion of his mind, strongly stamped upon her. She parti-
cularly did so on this occasion. She had her gusts of ill
will and her freaks of tyranny. She equally sacrificed the
grand lines of the constitution to them. She even proceeded
farther in both, than ever Henry did. She had it once
enacted indirectly, but plainly, by a law, that the crown
should be worn after her death by her natural issue ; a de-
signation of her offspring, that, in its ordinary import.
260 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
comprehends equally the spurious and the legitimate, and,
in its legal acceptation, peculiarly means the spurious.
She even prohibited any of her subjects, by the terror of
severe penalties in the law, from intimating, in any manner
or form, who was the next heir to the crown after her
death, except it was her natural issue. She even died
at last, though she had no issue at all, without settling
who was to succeed her ; leaving the constitutional heirs of
the throne under the ban of a prohibitory law, suffering no
others to be appointed, and resigning up the nation to all
the horrors of a civil war. These, indeed, the good
sense of the nation happily prevented. With one concur-
rent voice, they broke through the prohibitory law. They
did what Elizabeth should have done. They called the
constitutional heirs to the throne. But Elizabeth must have
meant the reverse of all this. She meant to leave " her
good people," that worst of all political calamities to a
nation, an unsettled succession. She must have foreseen all
the rising evils of it ; yet she still left it. She left it, as a
legacy of mischief after her death. Though counselled by
her parliaments, and entreated by her people, she still per-
sisted in her obstinacy of not ascertaining the succession.
She even did worse. She prepared the way for additional
pretenders to the crown, from any real or asserted bastards
of her own, She thus did all she could do in her life, to
make England
A stage,
To feed contention in a lingering act.
And it is therefore the less to be wondered at, that she per-
secuted a woman, who was her cousin by blood and her
heir by right, because she was her cousin and her heir.
But there was still another motive, and of as hostile a
nature as any before, and perhaps more powerful than any,
in the conduct of Elizabeth to Mary. The former could
not be content with the great superiority which she had
over the latter; in a hardy vigour of understanding, in a
WHiTAKER.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 261
deep knowledge of the world, and in the mysterious re-
finements of policy, in the strength of her nation, and in
the splendour of her government. She must arrogate a
superiority too, in the very orb in which Mary shone so
transcendently. She must triumph over her in beauty, and
in dress ; in those very accomplishments, which give the
sex such an influence upon us, but in which we never think
of rivalling them. Elizabeth was a man in most other re-
spects. She should have been peculiarly one in this. But
the womanly part of her predominated here, over the
manly. And she who could box her generals upon occa-
sion, could not bear to be surpassed in accomplishments
purely feminine, by the most handsome, the most graceful,
and the most improved princess of her age.
All united to make Elizabeth an enemy to Mary. As a
Queen, and as a woman ; as actuated by political jealousies,
as stimulated by personal humours, and as impelled by fe-
male vanities ; she became at first a pretended friend to be-
tray her, and she appeared at last an open enemy to
destroy her. She lavished all her arts of deception
upon her. She then found herself so entangled in the
strings of her own nets, that she could not either retreat or
advance. And she thought herself obliged in the end, for
the sake of her own security, to terminate in desperation,
what she had commenced in jealousy. She arraigned a
Queen of Scotland, before a tribunal of English nobles.
She thus set an example, infamous in itself, pernicious to
society, and peculiarly pernicious and infamous to her own
country ; of having a sovereign condemned to the blocks
by subjects. She urged her meaner dependents upon assas-
sinating Mary, that she might not behead her; but she
found even their consciences revolting at the villainous inti-
mation. She then signed the bloody warrant, with her
own hand. She could be wantonly jocular, at doing it.
She could pretend to recall it, when it had been sent away.
She could pretend to lay the guilt of it upon her secretary's
head. She could yet deny to Mary for ever, what was
262 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
never denied to the meanest criminal before — the favour of
having a clergyman of her own communion to attend her.
She could point her persecution against the soul, as well as
the body, of Mary. And at length she stained her con-
science with one of the foulest murders that the annals of
earth can produce ; then felt herself almost petrified with
horror, at the related execution of what she had commanded ;
felt herself peculiarly haunted at the close of life, with the
frightful image of the deed which she had committed ; and
killed herself at last with a sullen bravery of melancholy,
the most extraordinary that is to be met with in history.
Hear this, all ye who are tempted by the solicitations of
artifice, to leave the line of rectitude, and to violate the
laws of conscience. Ye will be dreadfully breaking in
upon your bosom-peace, by the deed. One enormity
is sure to lead you to another. Ye will feel yourselves at
the end of all, surrounded with your own stratagems, encir-
cled with your own snares, and bound fast in the very cen-
ter of your own designs. And ye will then, like the
wretched Elizabeth, fancy yourselves compelled to cut your
way through them, with crimes, with horror, and with
damnation attending upon you.
On these flagitious principles, and with this horrible
issue to them, Elizabeth engaged in intrigues against
Mary. She banded with her ambitious brother, and her
seditious clergy. She furnished them with assistance se-
cretly. She lent them her countenance openly. And,
from both, they at length drove their Sovereign out of the
country. She took refuge in Elizabeth's dominions. She
thus gave her one of the finest opportunities, that time
had ever presented to an heroical mind, of acting with a
dignified spirit of honour at the last. Mary was surely re-
duced below her envy at present. She had been ravished
by one of her brutal barons. She had been exposed as a
captive, to all the scorn of her rabble. She had been
locked up in a dungeon within a lake. She had been
there committed to the care of that very woman, who was
whitaker.J MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 263
the mother of her bastard brother; who insulted over her
with the natural insolence of a whore's meanness, in as-
serting- the legitimacy of her own child, and in maintain-
ing- the illegitimacy of Mary ; and actually carried the
natural vulgarity of a whore's impudence so far, as to
strip her of all her royal ornaments, and to dress her up
like a mere child of fortune, in a " course broune
cassoke." She had even been accused of adultery to her
late husband. She had even been charged with the mur-
der of him. And she had been thus charg-ed and accused,
not in the private discourses, or the private publications,
of the rebels ; but in full form, in open Parliament, and
in the hearing- of all the world. In such a situation, all
the little jealousies of the rival will surely melt away in
the compassions of the woman. Nor can she any long-er
be afraid of Mary. The dreaded competitor for the crown
of England, has now lost her own ; and now lies (as it
were) at her feet, soliciting- her kindness, and imploring
her assistance. Every generous sentiment, that ever har-
boured in the mind of Elizabeth, will therefore be called
into life again. Every tender sensibility, that ever was
felt at the heart of Elizabeth, will again be roused into
activity. Both will unite their powers. And Elizabeth
will eagerly catch, at the happy opportunity for glory ;
will seal it down to her honour, in all the future ages of
our annals ; and will descend to posterity with these il-
lustrious titles, the Friend of Order, the Assertor of Jus-
tice, and the Vindicator of an Injured Queen.
But Elizabeth had no sensibilities of tenderness, and no
sentiments of generosity. She looked not forward to the
awful verdict of history. She shuddered not at the in-
finitely more awful doom of God. Regardless of her own
invitation, of her own promises, and of every sanction
human or divine ; she flew upon the unhappy Queen,
seized her as a prey, and imprisoned her as a felon. I
blush as an Englishman to think, that it was an English
264 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
Queen who could do this ; that it was one of the most
enlightened princess, that ever sat upon the throne of
England ; and that it was one, whose name I was taught
to lisp in my infancy, as the honour of her sex, and the
glory of our isle.
Yet she did even more than this. She obliged the un-
willing rebels to come forward with their asserted evi-
dences against her. She forced them upon pretending
to substantiate their accusation of adultery, and to au-
thenticate their charge of murder. And, at last, she en-
tered into a diabolical compact with them, to receive
their spurious evidences as genuine; to receive them in
such a manner, as should preclude all possibility of de-
tecting their spuriousness ; and to vouch them for genuine,
by their own authority : so to blast the character of Mary
with all the world, for the gratification of her own paltry
revenge ; and then to keep her in prison for life, or to de-
liver her up to her rebels, for the support of their scan-
dalous usurpation.
Nor let it be suspected, that I exaggerate in saying this.
The records of it all are still in being. They are indelible
monuments of the infamy of Elizabeth, and of the inno-
cence of Mary. And I shall lay them at full length be-
fore my readers.
Mary was one of those characters which we meet with
very seldom in the world ; and which, whenever they ap-
pear, are applauded for their generosity by a few, and
condemned for their simplicity by the many. They have
an easy affiance of soul, that loves to repose confidence,
even when confidence is weakness. They thus go on, still
confiding, and still confounded ; unable to check the cur-
rent of affiance which runs strong in their bosoms, and
suffering themselves to be driven before it in their actions.
And all the first half of their lives forms one continued
tissue, of confidences improperly placed, and of perfidies
natural to be expected. Such a person was Mary ! She
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 265
once had her bastard brother, and his adherents, under her
feet ; but too easily forgave them. She once had all her
other rebels, under the harrows of the law; but too
readily released them. The former rose in rebellion, and
were defeated. The latter murdered her foreign secretary
in her presence, and even imprisoned her own person in
her palace ; and yet were overpowered by the manage-
ment of the Queen, and the fidelity of her Peers. And
she not only allowed them to return home from their ba-
nishment, but restored them to their estates, to their ho-
nours, and even to their posts about j her court. She thus
enabled them to repeat their rebellions, with equal power
and with improved experience. In so doing, she was cer-
tainly guilty of great folly. Yet she did more than this.
She afterwards took the verbal assurances of the very
same men in rebellion, who, to be rebels at first, must
have previously broken through the strong-est assurances
that man can give, even their very oaths ; and who, to be
rebels again, must have violated every additional obliga-
tion of gratitude and honour.
But she took their words, notwithstanding. She
relied upon them so implicitly, as to put her person
into their hands. Then they behaved just as such un-
grateful, dishonourable, and perjured wretches were sure
to behave. They thrust her into a prison. They forced
her to resign her crown. They nominally placed her
son on the throne, and really fixed themselves upon it.
By her affability, dignity, and prudence, she won upon
the hearts of those about her. By their aid she escaped
out of prison. She escaped too at a critical period, when
the villains that detained her in prison, were resolving to
execute the menaces which they had been for some time '
throwing out, and were meditating their grand stroke of
murder against her. Yet she was still the same in this
point. Her late experience, very severe as it was, had
not cured this original milkiness of her mind. She was
still credulous in the honesty of mankind, and still con-
m m
266 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
fident of the sincerity of others. She raised an army in an
instant. She was defeated, however. And she again re-
peated the nearly fatal stroke of confidence before. She
flew from the perfidies of her rebels, and threw herself upon
the perfidies of Elizabeth. She found Elizabeth even more
perfidious than they. And from this exertion of abused
confidence, she could never recover herself afterwards.
Nor let her be too freely censured for all. In the pre-
sent constitution of things, where the original dignity of
man is in a perpetual conflict with the introduced spirit of
meanness ; that affection of the heart, which does it most
credit in reality, becomes its greatest reproach in the eyes
of the many. A generous confidence in the virtue of others,
is the mark of a soul, conscious of the energy of virtue in
itself, buoyed up by its own vigour within, and not yet
drawn down by the attraction of earth below. Mary's was
one of this kind. Time, if time had been allowed her, would
have forced her to learn the necessary wisdom of the world.
The great multitude of mankind learn it, without the aid of
time. They look into their own hearts, and read it there.
They have no stubbornness of virtue to subdue, and no for-
wardness of honour to restrain. Mary had. She was cast
in a much superiour mould. And she died at last a martyr,
to the sincerity of virtue in herself, and to a reliance upon
it in others.
She took refuge in England on the 16th of May, 1568 ;
being little more than twenty-five years old. On the 22d
of June following, the bastard brother, now Earl of Murray
and regent of Scotland, addressed himself to Elizabeth's
agent at Edinburgh in these terms : " Because we persave
the trial/' he said, ", quhilk the Quenis Majestie" of Eng-
land " is myndit to have taken, is to be usit with grit cere-
monye and solemnites ; we wald be maist laith [most loth]
to enter in accusation of the Quene, moder of the King our
Soverane, and syne [afterwards] to enter into qualification
withhir: for all men may judge, how dangerous and pre-
judicial that suld be. Alwayis, in cais the Quenis Majestie
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 267
will have the accusation directlie to proceid: it were maist
ressonabill we understude quhat we suld hike to follow
thairupon, in cais we preive all that we alledge ; utherwayis
we sal be als [as] incertaneefter the caus concludit, as we are
presentlie [at present]. And thairfoir we pray zow [you]
require hir Hienes, in this point to resolve us." Murray
wanted not to bring forward the accusation of Mary. He
was already in possession of the regency. He could not be
in possession of more, even if he succeeded in the accusation.
He might not succeed. He knew well the defectiveness
of his proofs. He was, therefore, very naturally full of ap-
prehensions concerning the event. But Elizabeth would
have the accusation to proceed. And he was scheming
plainly to make a formal agreement with her, before he
ventured to produce his evidences. He saw the eagerness
of the Queen, to have them produced. He durst not re-
fuse her. The slightest assistance lent to Mary against him,
would have overset him at once from his seat of usurpation.
Yet he prudently refused to gratify her, before he had en-
tered into some stipulations to his own advantage. He
would be left in the regency by Elizabeth, if he proved
his charges ; and ^Mary should never be assisted by Eli-
zabeth, in disturbing him.
Thus plainly did Elizabeth urge the unwilling Murray,
to come forward with a charge of adultery, and with a
charge of murder, against Mary. Yet, at this very time,
she was pretending to Murray himself, not to intend to in-
vite any charges against her ; not to mean to allow of any
faults in her ; and merely to design a settlement of all dif-
ferences between her and him, upon reasonable terms. So
hypocritical was she, at the very outset of the business!
Yet she was still more so. At this very time, when she was
stimulating Murray to accuse Mary, and yet telling him she
did not want him to accuse her ; she was then pressing Mary
to agree to a conference with Murray, in order to give oppor-
tunity for introducing the accusation, and yet under an ex-
268 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
press stipulation of making- Murray by it to restore the
crown to Mary. These two facts together, unite to form
such an extreme of hypocrisy, and such a comprehensive-
ness of dissimulation ; as is scarcely to be credited. I there-
fore proceed to prove them.
We have already seen, that " the Quenis Majestie was
myndit to have a trial taken" concerning Mary, and that she
" would have the accusation directlie to proceid" against
her. Yet in a set of objections and answers, written by her
Prime-minister Cecil himself, and relating* to this message
of Murray's, " the Queue's Majesty/' it is said, " never
meaneth so to deale in the cause as to proceed to any con-
demnation of the Queen of Scots ; but hath a desyre, to com-
pound all differences betwixt hir and hir subjects; and
therein not to allow any faults, that shall appear to be in
the Quene ; but by reasonable and honourable conditions to
make some good end, with sufficient suerty for all partyes."
And at the same time, as Mary herself informs us, " hir
Grace of hir guidness did promise to support me, and to re-
pone me in my awin realme be hir grace's forces onlie ;
quhair throw I misterit not [I should not trouble myself] to
require any uther prince, for assistance in my causis ; and,
in hoip theirof, desyrit me ernestlie to desist and ceis fra all
suit, at the King of Spain and uther princes handis for sup-
port ; quhilk desyre I obeyit, putting my haill confidence,
nixt God, in hir Grace's promises." With such a variation
of hypocrisy, was Elizabeth acting at this moment! But
having thus induced Mary to drop all applications to foreign
princes for aid, by a solemn promise of restoring her to her
crown, with her own soldiery ; she then began to falter a
little in her promise. " Then," says Mary, " hir Grace
thinking it to be mair meit, that all my causis sould be set
forward be sum gude dress, rather than be force; hir
Hienes desyrit me alswa very ernestlie, to suffer hir a short
space to travel with the Erie of Murray and his adherents
(quha had submittit thair haill causis in hir handis), to
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 269
cause thame repair the wrangis and attemptatis committit
aganis me their soverane, and contrair thair alledgeance
and dewtie ; and to desist and ceis in times aiming* ; quhair
throw I micht be reponit in my realme, auctoritie and go-
vernment thairof, but [without] ony impediment, and be
her Hienes's labouris and moyen, rather than be force of
armis ; desyring alswa, that I wald use hir counsal toward
the wrang and offences committit be thame, how the samin
sould be repairit to my honour, and my clemencie be usit
towardis thame be hir Grace's sicht." So explicit was she
still, in her promise of restoring Mary to her throne ; even
when she was forming her plan for keeping her out of it.
Nor let any doubt arise upon the mind of my reader, as to
the validity of Mary's evidence against Elizabeth. She must
be the only evidence of what she only can know, the con-
tents of Elizabeth's letters to her. All indeed is confirmed
by a memorial, which her Commissioner, the Bishop of
Ross, presented to Elizabeth herself. At Mary's coming
into England, he says to Elizabeth, " Zour Majestie causit
hir to be thankfullie ressavit, and tuik in hand to dress hir
causis to her honour and weill ; sobeit scho wald leive the
seiking of ayd and support of all uther princes, and stay hir-
self onlie upon zour Hienes ; quhilk, upon the trust foir-
said, scho willinglie obeyit." But, what doubly confirms
all, Elizabeth at this very time, says the same Bishop in a
treatise afterwards, " did assure the moste Christian Kinge
of Fraunce," of success in this treaty ; te promisinge to doe
her exact diligence, to procure the restitution of the Quene
our Sovereigne to her crowne and realmes, and a goode
agreement to be made amongest her subjects, for the com-
moun quietnes of the realme." And, to preclude all pos-
sibility of doubt, Sir Francis Knollys informs Cecil by a
letter of July 28th, 1568, that my Lord Herris, just re-
turned from Elizabeth to Mary, assured the latter in his and
Lord Scroop's requested presence: he was authorized by
Elizabeth to say, " yf she wold commyt hyr cause to be
270 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker,
heard by hyr Hyghnes order, — as — hyr deare cousine and
frende — hyr Hyghnes wold surely sett hyr agayne in hyr
seate of regiment and dignitye regall ;" if her rebels should
bring any satisfactory reasons for their behaviour, " condi-
tionally," that her rebels should be pardoned ; and, if
they did not, " then her Hyghnes wold absolutely ". sett
hyr in hyr seat regall/' So seemingly mounted up to the
very apex of hypocrisy at once, does Elizabeth here appear !
So seemingly does the first stroke of the pencil, complete
the picture of dissimulation in her! But we shall see her pic-
ture heightened, with a thousand touches of dissimulation
besides ; and herself mounting infinitely higher on the pin-
nacle of hypocrisy, hereafter.
Murray's overture to Elizabeth, is the fundamental
evidence of all. To that overture Elizabeth undoubtedly
acceded. We have not, indeed, her immediate answer to
it ; though we know that she actually returned one.
" When their letters, contayning the doubt before by
them moved," say the commissioners of Elizabeth to
Murray and Murray's associates, a little afterwards at
York, " were delivered to the Quene's Majestie's handes ;
they knew that immediately hir Highnes did forthwith
depeche [dispatch] her answer thereunto." This answer
has been lost. We have what is called an answer, in the
objections and replies which I have just mentioned, as
drawn up by Cecil with a view to this letter of Murray's.
But, as those could be only the rudiments of an answer,
so could they not be of the real and actual one. They
carry with them the appearance of a paper merely osten-
sible. Let the reader judge, from one of the objections
and replies. — •" Obj. They would be loth to enter fyrst
into an accusation of the Quene, and then after that to
enter into a qualification. — Ans. The Quene's Majesty never
ment to have any to come, to make any accusation of the
Queen : but meaning to have some good end to grow be-
twixt the Quene and hir subjectis, was content to hear
whitaker ] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 271
any thing- which they had to say for themselves ; and, if
they will come into hir Majesty's real me, they shall be
heard."
This evidently bears such an air of hypocrisy upon the
face of it, as could never be hoped to be successfully im-
posed upon a Murray. It could be calculated only, for
his exhibition of it to [some of his honester adherents.
Such a hypocrite as Murray is never to be taken in by
dissimulation ; nor will such a hypocrite as Elizabeth ever
attempt to do it. And that it was not the real answer
given to Murray, is plain from what are equally satisfactory
to us, with the real one itself; but which are very dif-
ferent from this ostensible one of Cecil's ; the instructions
of Elizabeth to her Commissioners afterwards, and a letter
of Elizabeth's to Murray, dated the same day with the
instructions.
" Where we hear say," says Elizabeth, on September
the 20th to Murray, " that certain reports are made
in sundry parts of Scotland ; that whatsoever should fall
out now upon the & hearing- of the Queen of Scot's
cause, in any proof to convince [convict] or to acquit the
said Queen, concerning- the horrible murder of her late
husband our cousin ; we have determined to restore her to
her kingdom and government; we do so much mislike
hereof, as we cannot indure the same to receive any credit ;
and therefore we have thought good to assure you, that
the same is untruly devised by the authors to our dishonour.
For as we have been always certified from our said sister,
both by her letters and messages, that she is by no means
guilty or participant of that murder, which we wish to be
true; so surely, if she should be found justly to be guilty
thereof, as hath been reported of her, whereof we would
be very sorry ; then, indeed, it should behove us to con-
sider otherwise of her cause, than to satisfy her desire, in
restitution of her to the government of that kingdom.
And so we would have you and all others think, that
272 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
should be disposed to conceive honourably of us and our
actions." This is sufficiently explicit. But let us turn to
the instructions, which are equally dated on the 20th of
September, in the grand commission for the whole.
These do, what Elizabeth's letter does not. These plainly
refer to Murray's message before. These directly reply to
it. And they run thus. " If the Earle of Murray and
his partie shall alledge," she says, " that although they
can justly convince [convict] the Quene of the great
crimes wherewith she hath been burdened ; yet they find
it not expedient so to do, upon the doubt they have, that
the Quene's Majesty will, notwithstanding any crime
proved upon her, restore her to her kingdom and rule,
whereupon they should never be free from her indigna-
tion ; and so they will stay and not proceed, without they
may know her Majestie's purpose, in case the said Quene
should be proved guilty of her husband's murder : it may
be answered by the Quene's Majestie's Commissioners,
that, if her Majestie shall find it to be plainly and mani-
festly proved, surely her Majestie would think hir un^
worthy of a kingdom: and would not stayne her own
conscience, by restoring her to a kingdom." All there-
fore shews us very plainly, the answer of Elizabeth to the
overture of Murray ; that answ T er which she returned, as
the Commissioners have told us already, " immediately"
and 'i forthwith" upon the receipt of Murray's doubts. If
he could convict Mary of the crimes with which he
charged her, he would have no need to enter into any
accommodation with her. Mary was never to be restored
by Elizabeth. Yet all the while, let me again remark,
Elizabeth was writing ostensibly to Murray, that she
wanted no one to accuse Mary ; that she never meant to
condemn her on any accusation ; that she should allow of
no faults in her ; and that she would endeavour to set-
tle all differences betwixt her and her subjects, upon
grounds reasonable and honourable to both. And all the
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 273
while, too, Elizabeth was promising Mary herself to re-
store her, to make her subjects submit to her, force them
to repair her wrongs, and oblige them to accept her cle-
mency. In so much stronger light still does the hypocrisy
of Elizabeth appear, at the very commencement of this
business.
Her Commissioners afterwards applied these very words
in their commission, to the resolution of the very same
doubt ; when it was alleged again by the rebels. They
even applied them, as resolving the doubt in the very same
manner. Murray declared to them at York, they tell us,
that he and his associates " were desirous to understand, if
in this action they shall prove all things directly, where-
with they maye and do burden the Queue, their sovereigne's
mother ; how they maye be assured to be free and without
daunger of the said Quene's displeasure, if she should be re-
stored to her former estate : to whome it was saide by the
Queue's Majestie's Commissioners, that as in few wordes
her Highnes had delivered them her pleasure therein, so
wolde they in few wordes deliver the same unto them ;
which was, that indede her Majestie's desire hath always
bene from the begynning, that the said Quene might be
founde free, specially from the crime of her husband's
murder; nevertheless, if her Majestie shall fynde to be
playnelye and manifestly proved (whereof she wolde be
verie sorie), that the said Quene of Scottes was the devisor
and procurer of that murder, or otherwise was giltie thereof ;
surely her Majestie wolde thinke her unworthy of a king-
dome, and wolde not staine her owne conscience in mayn-
tenance of such a detestable wickedness, by restoring her
to a kingdome. Then the regent [Murray] opened the
cause, why he moved this question : declaring, that it was
not only put out and published in Scotland, but even now
in this citie ; that either she should be amplie restored, or
otherwise by some degrees restored and sent home amongs
them ; and do not let to saye, that they have the Quene's
N n
274 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
Majestie's promes to shew in writings, to confirm the "same.
It was answered thereunto by the Quene's Majestie's Com-
missioners, that it weare by them to be considered, from
whence those wordes came ; if from their adverse partie,
who can let them speak what themselves will devise ? But,
surely, either from her Majestie, or any by [of] her Com-
missioners, they could not affirm the same ; for when their
Lettres, conteyninge the doubt before by them moved, weare
delivered to the Quene's Majestie's handes ; they knew that
immediately her Highnes did forthwith depecheher answer
thereunto, in sorte as (if nothinge had byn now spoken by
us, her Grace's Commyssioners) it might have satisfied that
doubt and question." Elizabeth therefore answered their
doubt before, exactly as her instructions to her Commis-
sioners spoke, and exactly as her Commissioners spoke
from those instructions to the rebels ; that she would not
restore Mary to her crown, if the rebels could prove her
guilty of murder : though she had been assuring those rebels,
that she would allow no faults in Mary ; and though she
had been promising Mary herself, that she would restore
her. And as the Commissioners informed Elizabeth her-
self, of the written promise that was ready to be shewn
from Elizabeth, for the restoration of Mary ; of their denial
of it ; and of their assurance in the language of her letter
to the rebels, and of her instructions to them her Commis-
sioners, that Mary would not be restored if proved guilty ;
the Commissioners unwittingly exhibit the hypocrisy of
Elizabeth, in a still stronger light than ever.
Murray must have seen the hypocrisy plainly himself,
from the ostensible and the real answer of Elizabeth com-
pared together. He must have seen it much more plainly,
from the writing which was ready to be produced, with
Elizabeth's promise to Mary in it. But he was too much
an hypocrite himself to be offended with the duplicity of a
sister in hypocrisy. He was only acting hitherto, in order
to please some of his honester adherents. He had a much
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 275
deeper game to [play for himself, as I shall soon shew.
This proves the message by Middlemore, and the applica-
tion to the Commissioners, to have been calculated merely
for others. And these others were now called upon by no
less a bribe, than the promise of Murray's continuance in
the royalty under the name of regent, and consequently of
their own continuance in places of power and profit under
him ; to charge the Queen boldly with the murder of her
husband, to screw up their invention for evidences to the
highest pitch, and to produce them confidently before the
court.
But, as I have intimated already, neither Murray nor
Elizabeth would rest the cause merely upon this. They
must, both of them, go much farther to answer their respec-
tive purposes. Accordingly Murray in the address before,
which was to be reported to Elizabeth, and which, as we
have already seen, was actually reported to her, spoke addi-
tionally thus ; " Further," he says, " it may be, that sic
[such] letteris as we heif of the Quene, our Soverane
Lordis moder, that sufiicientlie in our opinion preivis hir
consenting to the murthure of the King hir lauchfull hus-
band; sail be callit in doubt be the juges, to be constitute
for examinatioun and trial of the caus, whether they may
stand or fall, pruif or not : thairfoir, sen our servand Mr.
Jhone Wode hes the copies of the samin letteris translatit
1 n our language, we wald earnestly desyre, that the saidis
copies may be considerit be the juges ; — that they may re-
solve us this far, in cais the principal agrie with the copie,
that then we pruif the caus indeed : for when we have ma-
nifested and schawin all, and zet [yet] sail haif na assu-
rance that it we send sail satisfie for probatioun, for quhat
purpois sal ^we ather accuse or take care how to pruif."
Thus had Murray the effrontery to propose to Elizabeth,
that her Commissioners, which were to be appointed, should
receive as evidence of the highest crimes in Mary, a set of
letters pretended to be written by her; should peruse them
2/6 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitakeh.
over, before they were produced as evidence ; peruse only
copies, and even only translations of them ; and then assure
him, whether they would admit them as full evidence of
guilt, not if the originals appeared to be written in her own
hand, but if the originals agreed with the copies.
This was such a proposal, as required no refinements of
religion, and asked no delicacies of honour, to spurn at it
with contempt. A common share of religion or of honour
must have rejected it with scorn. Only the lowest strain
of probity, which works in the breast of the vulgar ; only
the modesty that adheres to a young sinner ; and only the
shame, that silently pulls the heartstrings of all but aban-
doned vice ; would have considered the proposal as an in-
sult, and dismissed it with disdain. But did Elizabeth do
so ? In that ostensible paper which I have mentioned be-
fore, she pretended to do so. There we find the following
question and answer. Quest. " Whyther, if the originals
shall accord with the copys of the wry tings produced to
charge the Quene of Scots, the proof shall be thought suf-
ficient V Ans. " No proves can be taken for sufficient,
without hearyng of both partyes." This was speaking ho-
nestly. But I have so clearly convicted this paper of false-
hood already, and it shews us so plainly its own hypocrisy,
that we cannot be imposed upon by it. Whether Eliza-
beth did reject this proposal of Murray's, let facts tell.
They cannot lie. They cannot deceive us. Let, particu-
larly, the conduct of her Commissioners speak at large,
hereafter. And let her own conduct speak briefly at pre-
sent. Murray had plainly intimated, that unless this pro-
posal was agreed to, he would not come forward with his
evidence. " When we haif manifestit and schawin all/' he
says, " and zet sail haif na assurance, that it we send sail
satisfie for probatioun ; for quhat purpois sail we ather ac-
cuse, or take care how to pruif !" Elizabeth, therefore,
must have now seen the writings to be spurious, if she ever
believed them to be genuine; and have now known the
Whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 277
man to be a villain of the first magnitude, if she ever
thought any better of him. Yet she still proceeded in the
business ; she still encouraged the man to come forward
with his accusations ; and still persisted in calling- for the
writings.
Murray, indeed, must have long trafficked in villainy, as
he had long maintained a connection with her; before
he could have risen to such a pitch of familiarity with the
evil spirit within her, as to think of making her such an
overture. But he knew her too well, to be afraid of any
virtuous resentment from her. Associates in enormity al-
ways pay that compliment to goodness, to have the strong-
est contempt for one another. He saw her eagerness to
blast the character of Mary. She would comply with any
proposals, however flagitious, that ministered to her pur-
poses. And her Commissioners acted nearly, as Murray
had required they should act.
The Commissioners met Murray and some of his party at
York, in the month of October following. They then give
this account of Murray's proceedings and their own, there.
" The said Erie," they say, " hath been content privatlie
to shew us such matter, as they have to condempne the
Queen of Scottes, of the murder of her husband : and so they
sent unto us the Lord of Lethingtoun, James Makgill, and
Mr. George Boqwhannan, and another, being a Lord of the
Session ; which in private and secret conference with us,
not as Commissioners, as they protested, but for our better
instruction, shewed unto us some letters." That the Com-
missioners should have suffered any papers, and papers of
such a criminating nature, and especially such as went to
the very heart and soul of their commission, to be brought
before them in a clandestine manner; was a most astonish-
ing act of absurdity and injustice. But Murray had re-
quired it before. Elizabeth must therefore have privately
commanded it now. She accordingly, in her immediate
reply to this account of their conduct, passes not the slight-
278 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
est censure upon such a gross and palpable violation of de-
cency. She even intimates her approbation of it. " We
have of late," she says, " receaved your several letters,
with all such other matters contained in sundry writings,
as by your said letters hath been mentioned," meaning
some extracts and accounts of Murray's letters, sent by them
to Elizabeth ; " upon consideration whereof, we have found
suchdifficulties how to make a certen resolute answer unto
yow, as we are rather moved to have furder advice of others
of our counsell, now absent, and likewise of you ther ;
wherefore we are desirous to have some understanding of
your opinions." And the requisition of Murray, the con-
duct of the Commissioners, and the reply of Elizabeth, are
all so many rays uniting in one point.
But the Commissioners go on thus : " We have noted to
your Majestie the chiefe and — speciall points of the said let-
ters, written, as they say, with her own hand ; to the in-
tent it may please your Majestie to consider of them, and so
to judge whether the same be sufficient to couvince [con-
vict] her of the detestable crime of the murder of her hus-
band ; which in our opinions and consciences, if the said
letters be written with her own hand, is very hard to be
avoided." This extra-judicial judgment of the Commis-
sioners, so contrary to reason and common sense, was ano-
ther particular in Murray's requisitions. He required it to
be done. And it was actually done. By this means, evi-
dences were produced clandestinely to the Commissioners.
These were received by them, just as if they had been regu-
larly presented in open court. Large accounts are drawn
up of them. Larger extracts are made from them. Both
are transmitted to Elizabeth and her council. The Com-
missioners declare openly to both, that they have already
prejudged her cause. And, all the while, Mary and her
Commissioners are totally ignorant of the whole transac-
tion : and are preparing to enter upon a trial, that is in a
great measure determined against them already.
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 279
The only doubt expressed by the Commissioners, is this,
Whether the letters were her own hand-writing-. But how
did they act upon this, the capital point of the whole ?
They shall tell us themselves. " These men heare," they
say, " do constantly affirm the said letters, which they pro-
duce of her own hand, to be her own hand indede ; and do
offer to swear and take their oaths thereupon." They
never compared the produced writings, that pretended to
be of her hand, with any other* writings, that were acknow-
ledged to be so. They much less called in the Commis-
sioners of Mary, to assist them in the collation. They
rested all upon the affirmation of the producers, and upon
the credit of their offered oaths. And they were precluded
from communicating* even the contents of them to Mary's
Commissioners : by the artful mode in which they had been
exhibited to them, not as Commissioners, but as private
gentlemen.
In such a manner, was the first part of the trial con-
ducted; with a very near conformity to the original re-
quisitions of Murray, and to the great disgTace of Eliza-
beth and her Commissioners. These acted in all, no
doubt, under the private directions of her. And Murray
was only doing in all, what he and she had already con-
certed should be done. Hence Murray proposed to put
them clandestinely in possession of his papers; and they
agreed to peruse them clandestinely. Hence they thought
themselves at liberty as Commissioners, though they were
exhibited to them as private gentlemen, to communicate
a long account of them to Elizabeth, but not to give any
to Mary ; and to make large extracts from them, with their
own opinions occasionally intimated as they went along.
And hence they spoke out their opinion pretty plainly at
last, upon the whole. * These men/' they say, " do offer
to swear and take their oaths thereupon, the matteir con-
teyned in them being such, as could hardly be invented or
devised by any other than by herselfe ; for that they dis-
280 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
course of some things, which were unknowen to anie
other than to herself and Bothwell : and as it is hard to
counterfeit so manie, so the matter of them, and the man-
ner how these men came by them, is such, as it seemeth
that God, in whose sight murder and bludshed of the in-
nocent is abhommable [abominable], would not permit
the same to be hid or concealed." They thus condemn the
Queen of the murder charged upon her, in a formal dis-
patch to Elizabeth ; and upon letters, unuathenticated by the
producers, uncollated by themselves, uncommunicated to
her and her Commissioners. They condemn her, upon the
offer of oaths to their genuineness, from the very pro-
ducers themselves ; and upon certain particulars in them,
which they say were unknown to all except her and
Bothwell ; but which they could only have heard to have
been so, from the very producers themselves. And they
condemn her upon the manner in which the letters came
into the hands of the producers; which they affirm to
have been a signal mark of God's interposal to punish
murder and bloodshed in her ; but which they must equally
have heard, from the very producers themselves. Such
was the astonishing dishonesty with which the Commis-
sioners acted towards her in this outset of the business !
Yet 'Elizabeth approved of all. She liked their proceed-
ings. She liked them so w T ell, that she wanted to have
their further advice upon the subject ; and that she con-
tinued them as Commissioners, when she adjourned the
trial to London.
The Commissioners, however, were not entrusted with
all the schemes of Elizabeth in this matter. They con-
sisted of the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Sussex, and
Sir Ralph Sadler. Some of these were too honourable for
such a confidence. But one of them, no doubt, and Sir
Ralph Sadler assuredly, had his private instructions for
managing the business, just as it was managed. And when
Murray exhibited his papers clandestinely to them, he
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 281
did it, as I have already hinted, merely in a private con-
cert with her and this Commissioner. He did it, as they
tell us themselves, " to the intent, they [Murray, &c]
wolde know of us, how your Majestie understanding- the
same, wolde judge of the sufficiencie of the matter ; and
whether, in your Majestie's opinion, the same will ex-
tend to condempne the Queen of Scottes, of the said mur-
der." They accordingly ask her opinion. " We are,"
they say to her, " most humblie beseaching your Majestie,
that it may please the same to advertise us, of your opi-
nion and judgement therein." But had Elizabeth never
seen the letters before? She certainly had. Copies of
them had been sent to London by Murray, as I have
shewn already, above four months before. These Murray
had even offered by his address of the 22d of June, to
communicate to Elizabeth, for the consideration of the
Commissioners that she was to appoint. She did not ap-
point them, till the 20th of September following. But
could Elizabeth refrain all this time from looking into the
letters, from feeding her love of scandal against Mary,
and from inspecting the ground-work of all her future
operations against her ? Certainly she could not. She saw
the letters. She knew them, as well before the Com-
missioners imparted their contents to her, as she did af-
terwards. And she even contrived a method of communi-
cating the letters to them unpercei ved. Murray had desired of
Elizabeth to have them laid before her Commissioners, pre-
viously to their sitting in judgment upon them; and to
have their private opinion before-hand, concerning their
competency or incompetency to prove his allegations.
This was now done. The papers were offered to be laid
before them, by Murray. The secret emissary of Eliza-
beth among them, probably, influenced them to admit the
offer. The papers were produced. The Commissioners
perused, abstracted, and extracted from them. And they
o o
282 LOVE LETTERS OF
then communicated their opinions on the whole to Eliza-
beth; and through her, no doubt, to Murray.
In this artful manner, does Elizabeth appear to have
acted towards her own commissioners. Her whole life was
nothing but one scene of artifice and dishonesty. Her du-
plicity upon the present occasion is evidenced, by the requi-
sitions of Murray at first, and by the conduct of her com-
missioners afterwards. These are the two parts of a tally.
Who can doubt their relation ?
Yet though the commissioners, from the plain influence
of some emissary of Elizabeth's among them, and from
the violent force of their own credulity, had acted with a
gross dishonesty to Mary ; Elizabeth saw, even from this
very dispatch, that they would not do all which she wanted
them to do. Murray had required in addition to all the
rest, and indeed as the grand support of all, that the papers
should be admitted for evidences, without any enquiry into
their hand-writing. But Elizabeth now found from the
complexion of their despatches, marked as they strongly
were with all the features of a hasty faith, a rash judg-
ment, and a practising insidiousness ; that they would come
at last to the point, which should have been the first in the
process of their inquiry. They had begun their accounts of
the writings produced, with those proper guards of doubt,
" as they say/' and " as it is said." These they had some-
times dropt, in the intemperate rising of their spirits upon
Mary's presumed guilt. But they had again recurred to
them. And they had at last concluded their dispatch, with
mentioning the letters to be " written, as they say, with
her own hand ;" and with intimating their opinion of her
guilt, " if the said letters be written with her own hand."
The next step therefore must have been, to have had the let-
ters produced formally before the commissioners ; and then to
have had their authenticity examined. This was what
Elizabeth never meant to be done. Yet it must immediately
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 283
be done, if the present commissioners went on. And
Elizabeth, therefore, put an instant end to their commis-
sion.
This commission had been issued at first, in order " to
pronounce in the cause of the murder." The commission-
ers themselves say as much, in a formal answer to some
questions asked by Murray, concerning- their authority.
" They take their commission to be so ample," they say,
"as by the same they may well enter and proceade to that
controversie." And any one who knows the character of
Elizabeth, and considers the end of all her proceeding's,
must know that this was the great and ruling object of the
whole. Yet into this the commissioners never entered. They
sat only seven days, before their grand dispatch above.
The first four of these were spent in the necessary prelimi-
naries of the work. On the fifth, being the 8th day of
October, the commissioners of Mary presented their com-
plaint against her rebels. Murray, instead of replying,
wanted previously to be assured, exactly in the style of his
former requisitions to Elizabeth : " if in this action they
shall prove all things directly, wherewith they may and do
burthen the Quene, their sovereigne's moder: how they
may be assured to be free, and without daunger of the said
Quene's displeasure." The next day, being the 9th of Oc-
tober, they put in some questions in Writing to the same
purport. These were answered instantly by the commis-
sioners. But Murray was not satisfied with their answer.
He would have one from Elizabeth herself. And the
writing to Elizabeth, and the waiting for her answer, ne-
cessarily produced a suspension of business for some days-
In this state of suspension it was, that Murray offered and
proceeded to present his papers clandestinely to the com-
missioners. The delay, therefore, was created artfully for
the purpose. On the 9th of October, Murray put in his
written questions. On the 9th of October, the commissioners
sent up to Elizabeth for her answers to them. On the 10th,
284 LOVE LETTERS OF [wHitaker.
Murray put in that reply to Mary's complaint, which he
had deferred before. And, in the afternoon of that very
day, he communicated his evidences of the murder pri-
vately to the commissioners. These evidences he had ut-
terly refused to produce before. Only the very day before,
in his paper of questions to the commissioners, he had said
thus : " The resolutioun of these articlis is sa necessary for
us, and of sa great importance, that we can na ways enter
to the accusation or tryal of the murther, before we be
fully answerit thairin." Yet the very next day, and when
all accusation was formally superseded for a time, he could
privately enter into that accusation, and even lay his evi-
dences for it privately before them.
This is such a manoeuvre in management, as shews plainly
the public accusation to have been superseded, in order to
give room for preferring" the private one : for the perusal of
the papers by the commissioners ; for transmitting an ac-
count of them to Elizabeth ; and for Elizabeth to see their
opinions concerning them, to view the impressions which
these had made upon them, and to observe whether they
would go all the lengths, which it was requisite for her
purposes they should go. She found upon the trial, they
would not. She therefore made no reply to Murray's
doubts. These wanted no resolution at present. The dis-
patch concerning them must have reached her two days
before the others concerning the letters. Yet she wrote no
answer to it. This appeared strange at the very time.
" Because I am advertised from York," says Sir Francis
Knollys, " that hyr majestie doth hetherto stay the answer-
ing of the artycles of my Lord of Murraye and his partie ;
therefore/' &c. These pressed for an immediate answer.
The whole business of the accusation was prevented from
beginning to move. And had she not been in the secret of
Murray's management, she must have answered them im-
mediately. But, by being in the secret, she knew no an-
swer was required. She expected another dispatch, with an
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 285
account of the letters. It arrived. It was very much what
she wished But it was not all that she wanted. " She was,"
says, in express terms, the sagacious author of the memoirs
published by Crawford, ** but indifferently pleased with
what had past." And for this reason, though the commis-
sioners were yet only at the very entrance of the business,
had yet received only one paper from each side, and these
could necessarily be only formal and general, the mere
ground-work of their future proceedings ; she dissolved
their commission at once.
She could not have received their dispatch concerning
the letters, before the 14th or 15th of October ; and on the
16th she sent word of her intention to break up the Com-
mission directly. She broke it up accordingly. She issued
out a new Commission. To the former three she added five
others, Sir Nicholas Bacon, the Earls of Arundel and Lei-
cester, Lord Clinton, and Sir William Cecil. She did this,
say the co temporary memoirs of Crawford, "because she
had suspected Norfolk, and would balance his interest ;"
because she would balance his own voice, and his influence
over his relation, the Earl of Sussex, in his. And she or-
dered them to sit, not at York, but at Westminster : that
they might be more immediately under her own inspection
and influence.
Thus did Elizabeth still continue to found her denial of
justice, upon the ground of a known falsehood. But she must
have been particularly averse to the proposition of hearing
Mary in her own defence before all the nobility of England,
and before all the ambassadours of foreign powers. Their
presence would be an insurmountable bar to her designs.
Nor did she even choose to hear Mary at all. She rather
chose to keep her at a distance, while her more honourable
rebels were allowed a free access to the court ; to break
down her spirits by confinement ; to tarnish her reputation
by invited charges ; and to be at once her betrayer, accuser,
and judge. Nothing less than this, could have suited the
286 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
purposes of Elizabeth. Yet even she could not positively
refuse such a request. She owned it to be " a verie resson-
abill" one. She promised to grant it hereafter. But she
must first hear the evidences of the accusation against her.
Why must she? She chose it. " Stat pro ratione voluntas"
Yet had she not heard them before ? She certainly had.
She had even seen them.
Did Elizabeth, however, hear Mary afterwards in her
own defence, before the nobility and ambassadours? No !
Did she afterwards hear her, before any selected number of
her own obedient ministers in Privy-council ? No ! Did she
afterwards hear her before any other persons ? No ! She
never heard her at all. When she was accused, she would
not admit her to her presence, till she had seen the evi-
dences of the accusation, which indeed she had already seen
before. And when she had seen them again, then, then
Mary was unworthy to be admitted into her presence.
This is such a strain of shuffling and deceit, as must amaze
a man of honour to hear of. Yet it is very true. ". As for
her coming to hir presence," Elizabeth then said, " consi-
dering at the first when she came into this realme, hir Ma-
jesty could not fynd it than agreeable to her honor— being
defamed only by common report ; much less could she now
think it either mete or honourable for hir to come to hir
presence, considering the multitude of matters and pre-
sumptions now lately produced against hir, such as indede
greved hir Majesty to think of." Elizabeth, on the 4th of
December, thought it very reasonable she should be heard
in her own defence. Elizabeth, on the 16th of the same
month, thought it very unreasonable. She had considered,
that she would not admit her into her presence when she
first came to England, and when she was accused only by
common report. But she had forgotten, that even then
Mary had been accused by much more than common re-
port, even in form before Murray's Privy-council and Mur-
ray's parliament. She had also forgotten, that since her
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 287
coming into England, even since she had been accused
in form again before the Commissioners, she had thought
it very reasonable she should be admitted. And she now
pretended to grieve over the evidences produced: when she
had said after she had seen them, that she did not believe
the accusation grounded upon them ; and when she had pe-
culiarly caused them to be produced at present.
This is such a frightful picture of hypocrisy, that it hurts
my honest feelings, even to hold it up to the public. It is
so dreadfully finished in every part, that we can see no-
thing but one uniform view of hypocrisy on every side.
Every turn of countenance in the figures, every move-
ment of the body in them, the whole of their k drapery and
disposition, all bespeak the foulest hypocrisy. Yet this is
only the fore-ground of the piece. We have still more be-
hind.
On Mary's Commissioners requiring permission for Mary
to come up and defend herself; Elizabeth thought it expe-
dient to present another scene of equivocation to the world.
" As for the Quene coming in person to her Majestie," she
said — " she concluded it to be best for the said Quene, that
the said accusers should be roundly charged and reproved
herein." She meant, she added, '{ to charge the Earl of
Murray, as reason was, and to reprehend and impugn the
accusation by all good means, in the favour of the said
Quene of Scottes." So she promised. But how did she
act ? Did she " roundly charge and reprove" Murray and
his accomplices ? Did she " reprehend and impugn the ac-
cusation," which they had thus produced? And did she
exert " all good means in favour of the said Quene of
Scottes V Let the sequel tell, so truly characteristick of
her general duplicity.
Three days after her promise, on the 7th of December,
the Commissioners of Elizabeth called Murray and his col-
leagues before them, and addressed them in these words :
" My Lords, the Quene's Majestie hath commanded us to
288 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
say unto you, that her Highness thinketh [it] very much
and very strange, that you should accuse her [Mary] of so
horrble a cryme." This was the substantial part of their
chiding address. It was what Elizabeth pretended to call
" a round charging and reproof/' and " a reprehending and
impugning the accusation by all good means." The promise
and the performance are just as much alike, we see, as a
storm in nature and a storm in the playhouse are.
But the Commissioners did not end here. Her Majesty,
they add, " therefore hath called us to say unto you ; that
although you, in this doing, have forgot your duties of al-
legiance toward your Soveraine, yet her Majestie meaneth
not to forget the love of a good sister, and of a good neigh-
bour and friend." Elizabeth, then, is determined at last to
discharge the duties of a good neighbour, a real friend, and
a loving sister to Mary. She has strangely " paltered" with
her promise indeed, in the reproof before. But she will
now serve her. Yet how does she serve her ? The very
next words of the Commissioners will shew the kindness
intended. And the fact immediately subsequent, will shew
the kindness performed.
" What you are to answer to this," say the commis-
sioners, " we are here ready to hear." But why was an
answer expected ? According to Elizabeth's promise, the
rebels were to be sharply rebuked for their presumption, in
thinking to accuse Mary of murder. To this no answer was
requisite. They had accused. This was their offence. For
this they were to receive a severe reprimand. And the ac-
cusation was thus to be ti impugned," by every honest ex-
ertion of friendship in Elizabeth. Yet, notwithstanding
all this, the rebels are called upon to answer. They are
called upon, in prder to bring forward the concerted reply ;
and to conclude the whole in a manner, directly the reverse
of Elizabeth's seeming intentions.
Thus are the commissioners, with principles of honour all
alive and active in the breasts of some of them, made to
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 289
become mere gentlemen-ushers to her hypocrisy, and mere
running-footmen to her revenge. Their souls must have
been shocked with the employ. But they were obliged to
submit to it. The bold barons, that had so often assaulted
the throne even of our warlike monarchs, all crouched at
the feet of this Henry the Eighth in petticoats. And they
were mean enough to carry on an evident scheme of collu-
sion betwixt her and Murray. They therefore gave the re-
buke in such gentle terms, so contrary to what they them-
selves had some of them heard her promise. They there-
fore called also upon the rebels to reply, when all reply was
precluded by the apparent nature of the business. But the
real was very different.
Murray, accordingly, came prepared for the latter. He
knew the farcical operations, in which these mere shifters
of the scenes to him and to her, were now to be engaged.
He heard them calmly. He replied. He expressed his
sorrow, for having offended Elizabeth by his accusation of
Mary. But to " satisfie" her, he would do what ? He
would retract the accusation, to be sure, for which he
" found" Elizabeth, as he says himself, " to be grievously
offended" with him. And thus Elizabeth will at last have
" impugned the accusation by all good means, in favour of
the said Queen of Scots." This undoubtedly was the na-
tural process in the business. But there was nothing natu-
ral in the whole. It was merely an acted drama, from the
beginning to the end of it. Murray, therefore, in order to
"satisfy" Elizabeth for the " grievous offence" given, would
repeat it, and aggravate it highly. He would proceed to
prove what he had charged.
This was plainly the point to which Elizabeth and Mur-
ray had been mutually tending, by all these side-move-
ments. Murray had actually brought his proofs with him.
The commissioners were actually ready to receive them.
They had indeed called for them, in calling for a reply to
their rebuke. And thus the " round charge and reproof/'
p p
290 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
which Elizabeth threatened to give Mary's accusers ; the
" reprehending and impugning the accusation by all good
means in her favour," which Elizabeth promised to Mary's
commissioners ; and " the love of a good sister, and of a
good neighbour and friend/' which Elizabeth the moment
before declared by her own commissioners, she " meaned
not to forget" to Mary ; all terminated — in making the ac-
cusation to be maintained against her, and in encouraging
the evidences to be produced for it.
All this was a very proper prelude to the second appear-
ance of the letters. They appeared the next day. But
what could be expected in fairness or in decency, as to the
examination of them ; from a woman so apparently hypo-
critical and base, as Elizabeth is here shown to be by her
own proceedings ; and from men so apparently mean and
servile, as the commissioners are equally shewn to be from
theirs ? The conduct of both we must naturally expect to
proceed in the same strain. It cannot well exceed the
other. And yet, I think, it did.
" This daye," say the commissioners, on the 8th of De-
cember, " the Earle of Murray, according to the appoynt-
ment yesterday, came to the Quene's Majestie's commis-
sioners, saying : That as they had yesternight produced and
shewed sundry writings," &c. " so for the further satisfac-
tion, both of the Queene's majestie and theyr lordships,
they were ready to produce and show a great number of
letters wrytten by the said Quene, wherin, as they said,
might appear very evidently her inordinate love towards the
said Erie Bothwell, with sundry other arguments of her
guiltyness of the murder of her husband. And so there-
upon they produced several wrytings wrytten in the like
Romain hand, as others her letters which were showed
yesternight, and avowed by them to be wrytten by the
said Quene." This is the account, we must remember,
given by the commissioners themselves, concerning their
own proceedings. We cannot desire a better authority for
whiTaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 291
censuring* them. And they cannot ask a better testimony
in their own vindication.
Yet what does their account say, for vindication or for
censure ? It says this. The commissioners at York, on the
previous production of the letters, had rested their authen-
ticity on the credit of the offered oaths of the producers.
The commissioners at Westminster were more attentive to
the rules of common sense and common honesty. They
compared them with other writings. They found them, on
examination, to be " wrytten in the like Romain hand, as
others which were shewed yesternight." And so far they
acted with apparent justness. But this was in appearance
only. In reality they acted as unjustly and as absurdly as the
commissioners at York. Yet they conducted themselves
with more address. They were more cunning and more
knavish. The addition of five to the former three, had
given a strong predominancy to the spirit of Elizabeth and
of villainy, among them. The majority of the three were
honest in intention, and weak in practice. The majority
of the eight were actually knaves in design, actually knaves
in practice, but studiously courting the semblance of ho-
nesty. They therefore pretended to do, what the others
had not done ; and to examine the grand point on which the
whole accusation rested, the hand-writing of the letters.
But how did they examine it ? In a manner that must have
pronounced them to be idiots, if we had not known them
to be otherwise ; and in a manner that must pronounce
them to be knaves, as we know them to have been men of
sense. Like persons totally incompetent to the manage-
ment of business, but in truth acting ministerially in a
work of profligacy ; they compared the letters produced,
not with letters furnished by Mary's commissioners, not
with letters even furnished by any indifferent persons, but
with letters presented by the producers themselves. They
collated them with " others her letters, which were shewed
yesternight" (for " they had yesternight produced and
292 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
shewed sundry writings"), " and avowed by them to be
wrytten by the said Quene." And they thus collated one
forgery with another.
We have other letters of Mary's, that equally melted
away. We see a whole set of them appearing in the
silver box with the eight, and even produced with the
eight at Westminster. They were in Scotch, while the
eight were in French. They were witnesses with the
eight, to Mary's hatred of her husband, and to Mary's
love of Bothwell. Yet they were withdrawn, while the
eight remained behind. And, while the eight were al-
lowed to walk the world and enjoy the sun, these were
remanded back into the dungeons of darkness in which
they were born, and there strangled by the murderous
hands of their own parents.
All this lays open a new source of conviction to our
minds. It serves also to show us, that as different parts
of the rebel forgeries were executed by different persons,
and some quite unknown to the others ; as Lethington as-
suredly made the letters, and Buchanan composed the
sonnets, and Lethington transcribed both into a hand-
writing imitative of Mary's ; so Morton probably drew up
the first contract for Mary, which was therefore written in
a chancery hand, unlike her's ; Morton also drew up pro-
bably the second contract, in the pretended hand-writing
of Huntly, his immediate predecessor in the office of
Chancellor ; and Murray himself, who was the presiding
genius of the whole villainy, and set all the implements
of iniquity to work, probably fabricated with his own
hand the confessions of Paris, &c.
Buchanan has long had the supereminent infamy among
the friends of Mary, of having forged the letters from her
to Bothwell. It was not given to him very early*. Yet
it has been continued to him very steadily. But I am
* The forgery was originally attributed to Mary Bethune or
Beaton, one of Mary's Maids of Honour. Jebb, i. 524, and iL 213.
whitaker.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 293
compelled by the force of evidence, to clear Buchanan of
this villainy, and to lay it upon another.
The first time that the idea of a set of forged letters was
suggested to the rebels, was on the 24th of July, 1567.
It was pretty certainly a spark, struck off from the mind
of Lethington, by the friendly collision of the ideas of
adultery and murder, then floating among the mob of
clergy and gentry in Edinborough, and his own habits
of forging the hand-writing of Mary. These habits are
sufficiently attested by his own confession ; as he acknow-
ledged in secret to the Commissioners at York, that he
had frequently forged her writing. His active hand,
therefore, caught the spark as it flew ; threw in the com-
bustibles, which his active genius could always furnish;
and fanned both immediately into a little flame. He is
expressly said by the rebels themselves, to have been
" esteemed" by them, as " one of the best engines or
spirits of his country." He is particularly reported to
have had " a crafty head and fell [or sharp] tongue."
Elizabeth also is declared by her own embassadour to have
known him well, " for his wisdom to conceive, and his
wit to convey, whatsoever his mind is bent unto to bring
it to pass." And he is described by another cotemporary,
to have been " naturally enclined to plotting and in-
triguing; and fond of encountering difficulties, as tools
that served to sharpen his wit, of which he had a very
great stock." IJe instantly conceived the plan of a series
of letters, fabricated in a writing similar to Mary's, and
proving all that the mob asserted ; in order to terrify
Mary into the wanted resignation. He instantly con-
nected it, with its proper accompaniments. His mind had
always a quickness of invention, and a vigour of forma-
tion about it. And his tongue, which was as lively as
his fancy, instantly reported the whole, for a system al-
ready in existence, to Throgmorton ; to whose lodgings
he frequently repaired, and in whose ear he frequently
294 LOVE LETTERS OF [whitaker.
whispered, or pretended to whisper, the secret designs of
the party. He was, no doubt, the principal channel of in-
telligence to Throgmorton on all occasions. He was the
only channel upon this. Had the project of the letters
been known to any, except the relator and the reporter,
it must soon have crept out among the busy partizans in
the city, and appeared in some of Throgmorton's intel-
ligences concerning them. Such a pretended discovery, if
it had once gone out beyond the two, would not long have
crept. It would quickly have raised itself upon its feet.
It would have stalked forth in gigantic formidableness
among the amazed crowds. And it was privately inti-
mated to Throgmorton only, that he might act in conjunc-
tion with Lethington, and his four associates in treachery ;
that he might write like them to Mary, upon the dangers
that were pressing upon her from every side ; and so might
unite to drive the poor doe, which they could not hunt
down, into the toils prepared for her.
I here rest, and am grateful for the relief. To wade
through the three volumes of Whitaker, and see his eter-
nal repetitions of Goodall, is no easy matter. My reader,
of course, would not be obliged by hearing Chalmers ring
the changes on these two writers.
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 295
LAING.
I have patiently gone through the pages of this, as well
as through those of every other author whom I have cited ;
and, I should not follow the dictates of my own judgment
were I to enlarge my volume by extracts from his work —
for such would merely be an affirmance or corroboration of
all that has been added by his predecessors against Mary.
Laing is a warm opponent of the advocates for the inno-
cence of the Queen, and he has shown a great many Jaco-
bite fallacies. He has also the credit of having brought to
light one of the original letters of the Gilt Casket.
296 LOVE LETTERS OF
MR. CHALMERS.
This gentleman's Journal, or Diary of Mary, interspersed
as it is with historical and official selections, contains but
little in favour of her innocence. He praises his partizans,
Goodall, Tytler, and Whitaker ; and as the two latter sound
their gong's on the notes of the former, so he, frisky and for-
tified with their joint knowledge, rings the changes upon
them all ; and comes in for the plate in the following brief,
confident, and amusing manner : — " He makes the Regent
Murray the principal in the murder of Darnley ! — Both well
only Murray's agent — and the lovely Queen not even &parti-
eeps criminis !" — Of the Letters he says, whilst speaking of
forgeries — " Of the same nature are the documents which
Murray gave into Elizabeth's Commissioners as proofs of his
charge — the whole may be seen in Goodall." Mr. Chalmers,
who so cavalierly takes leave of his readers, without laying
the documents before them, may, if he pleases, in his next
edition, (should Mr. Murray's shelves be lightened of their
Quartos and Octavos, about the Queen of Scots, during
his life) tell the world that my volume contains all
that is necessary to be known about Queen Mary. — But I
cannot leave this subject before I answer the charge of
Chalmers against Murray in the language of Hume — and
tell him who were the murderers of Darnley. By this state-
ment, which he has called forth, I would not have the world
to infer or imagine that David Chalmers, one of the mur-
derers in 1587, was of the same race or kin with George
Chalmers the advocate and compiler of the Life of Mary
Queen of Scots in 1822, because he happened to be of the
same party. Far be such wicked thoughts from myself and
readers.— But the Earl of Lenox, father of the murdered
King Henry, charged the Earl of Both well, Sir James
Balfour, Gilbert Balfour, and David Chalmers, with the
murder of his son— and all Scotland at the time justly be-
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 297
lieved these men, with four others of the Queen's household,
the guilty regicides !
But Chalmers only repeats Mary's order to her Commis-
sioners to charge Murray — and Hume says in answer —
" Unless we take this angry accusation of Mary to be an
argument of Murray's guilt, there remains not the least
presumption which should lead us to suspect him to have
been anywise an accomplice in the King's murder. That
Queen never pretended to give any proof of the charge, and
her Commissioners affirmed at the time that they themselves
knew of none, though they were ready to maintain its truth
by their mistress's orders, and would produce such proof as
she would 1 send them I Faithful servants.
" An English Whig who asserts the reality of the Popish
Plot — an Irish Catholic who denies the massacre in 1641 —
and a Scotch Jacobite who maintains the innocence of
Queen Mary — must be considered as men beyond the reach
of argument or reason."
Qq
298 LOVE LETTERS OF
MISS BENGER.
This Lady has compiled two neat volumes entitled Me-
moirs of Mary Queen of Scots, at the Court of Henry the
Second. And she quotes and praises Chalmers, whose
work was published sometime before that of Miss Benger.
She writes agreeably, and I hope as advantageously for her-
self and booksellers, as her work is pleasing and interesting
to people who cannot go deeper into the Queen's history
than our fair Authoress appears to have travelled. Her
work treats of Mary's childhood ; and, with this volume
and Hume's History of the Reign of Elizabeth, contains all
that need be known about the lovely Queen of Scots.
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 299
I opened the case with the historical account of Hume,
and I conclude with the same admirable and correct author.
As I have read, so I could have cited, the same authors
whom he quotes ; but who could do so with such perspi-
cuity and elegance as Hume ?
When I commenced with Buchanan, Hume had brought
Mary to England for refuge ; and Queen Elizabeth had be-
come arbitress between Mary and the States of Scotland :
and the conferences at York, Westminster, and at Hamp-
ton Court, are detailed in the following- pages.
CONFERENCES AT YORK AND HAMPTON COURT. OCT. 4.
The Commissioners appointed by the English Court for
the examination of this gTeat cause, were the Duke of Nor-
folk, the Earl of Sussex, and Sir Ralph Sadler ; and York
was named as the place of conference. Lesley Bishop of
Ross, the Lords Herries, Levingstone, and Boyde, with
three persons more, appeared as Commissioners from the
Queen of Scots. The Earl of Murray, Regent, the Earl of
Morton, the Bishop of Orkney, Lord Lindesey, and the
Abbot of Dunfermling, were appointed Commissioners
from the King and Kingdom of Scotland. Secretary Li-
dington, George Buchanan, the famous poet and historian,
with some others, were named as their assistants.
It was a great circumstance in Elizabeth's glory, that she
was thus chosen umpire between the factions of a neigh-
bouring kingdom, which had, during many centuries, en-
tertained the most violent jealousy and animosity against
England ; and her felicity was equally rare, in having the
fortunes and fame of so dangerous a rival, who had long
given her the greatest inquietude, now entirely at her dis-
posal. Some circumstances of her late conduct had disco-
300 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
vered a bias towards the side of Mary : her prevailing- inte-
rests led her to favour the enemies of that Princess : the
professions of impartiality, which she had made, were open
and frequent ; and she had so far succeeded, that each side
accused her Commissioners of partiality towards their ad-
versaries. She herself appears, by the instructions given
them, to have fixed no plan for their decision; but she
knew the advantages which she should reap, must be great,
whatever issue the cause might take. If Mary's crimes
could be ascertained by undoubted proof, she could for ever
blast the reputation of that Princess, and might justifiably
detain her for ever a prisoner in England : if the evidence
fell short of conviction, it was intended to restore her to the
throne, but with such strict limitations as would leave Eli-
zabeth perpetual arbiter of all differences between the par-
ties in Scotland, and render her in effect absolute mistress
of the kingdom.
Mary's Commissioners, before they gave in their com-
plaints against her enemies in Scotland, entered a protest,
that their appearance in the cause should nowise affect the
independence of her crown, or be construed as a mark of
subordination to England : the English Commissioners re-
ceived this protest, but with a reserve to the claim of Eng-
land. The complaint of that Princess was next read, and
contained a detail of the injuries which she had suffered
since her marriage with Bothwell : that her subjects had
taken arms against her, on pretence of freeing her from cap-
tivity ; and when she put herself into their hands, they
had committed her to custody in Lochlevin ; had placed her
son, an infant, on the throne ; had taken arms against her
after her deliverance from prison ; had rejected all her pro-
posals for accommodation ; had given battle to her troops ;
and had obliged her, for the safety of her person, to take
shelter in England. The Earl of Murray, in answer to
this complaint, gave a summary and imperfect account of
the late transactions : that the Earl of Bothwell, the known
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 301
murderer of the late King, had, a little after committing
that crime, seized the person of the Queen, and led her to
Dunbar; that he acquired such influence over her, as to
gain her consent to marry him, and he had accordingly pro-
cured a divorce from his former wife, and had pretended
to celebrate his nuptials with the queen ; that the scandal
of this transaction, the dishonour which it brought on the
nation, the danger to which the infant Prince was exposed
from the attempts of that audacious man, had obliged the
nobility to take arms, and expose his criminal enterprises ;
that after Mary, in order to save him, had thrown herself
into their hands, she still discovered such a violent attach-
ment to him, that they found it necessary, for their own and
the public safety, to confine her person, during a season,
till Both well and the other murderers of her husband could
be tried and punished for their crimes ; and that during this
confinement, she had voluntarily, without compulsion or vio-
lence, merely from disgust at the inquietude and vexations
attending power, resigned her crown to her only son, and
had appointed the Earl of Murray Regent during the mino-
rity. The Queen's answer to this apology was obvious ;
that she did not know, and never could suspect, that Both-
well, who had been acquitted by a jury, and recommended
to her by all the nobility for her husband, was the mur-
derer of the king ; that she ever was, and still continues,
desirous that if he be guilty he may be brought to condign
punishment ; that her resignation of the crown was ex-
torted from her by the well-grounded fears of her life, and
even by direct menaces of violence ; and that Throgmorton,
the English ambassador, as well as others of her friends,
had advised her to sign that paper, as the only means of
saving herself from the last extremity, and had assured her
that a consent given under these circumstances, could never
have any validity.
So far had the Queen of Scots seemed plainly to have
the advantage in the contest ; and the English commission-
302 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume,
ers might have been surprised that Murray had made so
weak a defence, and had suppressed all the material impu-
tations against that princess, on which his party had ever
so strenuously insisted ; had not some private conferences
previously informed them of the secret. Mary's commis-
sioners had boasted that Elizabeth, from regard to her kins-
woman, and from her desire of maintaining the rights of
sovereigns, was determined, how criminal soever the con-
duct of that princess might appear, to restore her to the
throne ; and Murray, reflecting on some past measures of
the English court, began to apprehend that there were but
too just grounds for these expectations. He believed that
Mary, if he would agree to conceal the most violent part
of the accusation against her, would submit to any reasona-
ble terms of accommodation ; but if he once proceeded so
far as to charge her with the whole of her guilt, no com-
position could afterward take place ; and should she ever be
restored, either by the power of Elizabeth, or the assist-
ance of her other friends, he and his party must be exposed
to her severe and implacable vengeance. He resolved,
therefore, not to venture too rashly on a measure which it
would be impossible for him ever to recall ; and he privately
paid a visit to Norfolk and the other English commissioners,
confessed his scruples, laid before them the evidence of
the Queen's guilt, and desired to have some security for
Elizabeth's protection, in case that evidence should, upon
examination, appear entirely satisfactory. Norfolk was
not secretly displeased with these scruples of the Regent ;
he had ever been a partizan of the Queen of Scots: secre-
tary Lidington, who began also to incline to the party, and
was a man of singular address and capacity, had engaged
him to embrace farther views in her favour, and even to
think of espousing her: and though that iDuke confessed,
that the proofs against Mary seemed to be unquestionable,
he encouraged Murray in his present resolution, not to pro-
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 303
duce them publicly in the conferences before the English
commissioners.
Norfolk, however, was obliged to transmit to court the
queries proposed by the Regent. These queries consisted
of four particulars. Whether the English commissioners
had authority from their sovereign to pronounce sentence
against Mary, in case her guilt should be fully proved be-
fore them ? Whether they would promise to exercise that
authority, and proceed to an actual sentence? Whether
the Queen of Scots, if she were found "guilty, should be
delivered into the hands of the Regent, or, at least, be so
secured in England, that she never should be able to dis-
turb the tranquillity of Scotland ? and, Whether Eliza-
beth would also, in that case, promise to acknowledge the
young king, and protect the Regent in his authority ?
Elizabeth, when these queries, with the other transac-
tions, were laid before her, began to think that they
pointed towards a conclusion more decisive and more advan-
tageous than she had hitherto expected She determined,
therefore, to bring the matter into full light ; and under
pretext that the distance from her person retarded the pro-
ceedings of her commissioners, she ordered them to come
to London, and there continue the conferences. On their
appearance, she immediately joined in commission with
them some of the most considerable of her council ; Sir
Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper, the Earls of Arundel and
Leicester, Lord Clinton^ Admiral and Sir William Cecil,
secretary. The Queen of Scots, who knew nothing of
these secret motives, and who expected that fear or decency
would still restrain Murray from proceeding to any violent
accusation against her, expressed an entire satisfaction in
this adjournment ; and declared that the affair, being under
the immediate inspection of Elizabeth, was now in the
hands where she most desired to rest it. The conferences
were accordingly continued at Hampton Court ; and Mary's
304 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
commissioners, as before, made no scruple to be present at
them.
The Queen, meanwhile, gave a satisfactory answer to
all Murray's demands, and declared, that though she wished
and hoped, from the present inquiry, to be entirely con-
vinced of Mary's innocence, yet, if the event should prove
contrary, and that princess should appear guilty of her
husband's murder, she should, for her own part, deem her
ever after unworthy of a throne. The Regent, encou-
raged by this declaration, opened more fully his charge
against the Queen of Scots, and after expressing his re-
luctance to proceed to that extremity, and protesting
that nothing but the necessity of self-defence, which must
not be abandoned for any delicacy, could have engaged him
in such a measure, he proceeded to accuse her in plain terms
of participation and consent in the assassination of the
King. The Earl of Lenox, too, appeared before the
English commissioners ; and, imploring vengeance for the
murder of his son, accused Mary as an accomplice with
Bothwell in that enormity.
When this charge was so unexpectedly given in, and copies
of it were transmitted to the Bishop of Ross, Lord Herries,
and the other commissioners of Mary, they absolutely re-
fused to return an answer ; and they grounded their silence
on very extraordinary reasons ; they had orders, they said,
from their mistress, if any thing were advanced that might
touch her honour, not to make any defence, as she was a
sovereign princess, and could not be subject to any tribunal ;
and they required that she should previously be admitted to
Elizabeth's presence, to whom, and to whom alone, she
was determined to justify her innocence. They forgot that
the "conferences were at first begun, and were still conti-
nued, with no other view than to clear her from the accu-
sations of her enemies ; that Elizabeth had ever pretended
to enter into them only as her friend, by her own consent
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 305
and approbation, not as assuming- any jurisdiction over her;
that this princess had, from the beginning-, refused to admit
her to her presence, till she should vindicate herself from
the crimes imputed to her ; that she had therefore disco-
vered no new signs of partiality by her perseverance in that
resolution ; and that though she had granted an audience
to the Earl of Murray and his colleagues, she had previously
conferred the same honour on Mary's commissioners ; and
her conduct was so far entirely equal to both parties *.
As the commissioners of the queen of Scots refused to
give in any answer to Murray's charge, the necessary con-
sequence seemed to be, that there could be no farther pro-
ceedings in the conference. But though this silence might
be interpreted as a presumption against her, it did not fully
answer the purpose of those English ministers who were
enemies to that princess. They still desired to have in their
hands the proofs of her guilt ; and in order to draw them
with decency from the regent, a judicious artifice was em-
ployed by Elizabeth. Murray was called before the Eng-
lish commissioners ; and reproved by them, in the queen's
name, for the atrocious imputations which he had the teme-
rity to throw upon his sovereign: but though the earl of
Murray, they added, and the other commissioners, had so
far forgotten the duty of allegiance to their prince, the
* Mary's complaint of the Queen's partiality in admitting Murray
to a conference, was a mere pretext in order to break off the confer-
ence. She indeed employs that reason in her order for that purpose :
(see Goodall, vol.2, p. 184,) but in her private letter, her commis-
sioners are directed to make use of that order to prevent her honour
from being attacked. (Goodall, vol.2, p. 183.) It was therefore the
accusation only she was afraid of. Murray was the least obnoxious
of all her enemies. He was abroad when her subjects rebelled, and
reduced her to captivity ; he had only accepted of the Regency when
voluntarily proffered him by the nation. His being admitted to Queen
Elizabeth's presence was therefore a very bad foundation for a quar"
rel, or for breaking off the conference ; and was plainly a mere pre-
tence.
r r
306 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
queen never would overlook what she owed to her friend,
her neighbour, and her kinswoman : and she therefore de-
sired to know what they could say in their own justifica-
tion. Murray, thus urged, made no difficulty in producing
the proofs of his charge against the Queen of Scots ; and
among the rest, some love-letters and sonnets of her's to
Bothwell, written all in her own hand ; and two other papers,
one written in her own hand, another subscribed by her, and
written by the Earl of Huntley ; each of which contained a
promise of marriage with Bothwell, made before the trial
and acquittal of that nobleman.
All these important papers had been kept by Bothwell in
a silver box or casket, which had been given him by Mary,
and which had belonged to her first husband, Francis ; and
though the princess had enjoined him to burn the letters as
soon as he had read them, he had thought proper carefully
to preserve them as pledges of her fidelity, and had com-
mitted them to the custody of Sir James Balfour, deputy-
governor of the castle of Edinburgh. When that fortress
was besieged by the associated lords, Bothwell sent a ser-
vant to receive the casket from the hands of the deputy-
governor. Balfour delivered it to the messenger ; but as
he had at that time received some disgust from Bothwell,
and was secretly negociating an agreement with the ruling
party, he took care, by conveying private intelligence to
the Earl of Morton, to make the papers be intercepted by
him. They contained incontestible proofs of Mary's cri-
minal correspondence with Bothwell, of her consent to the
King's murder, and of her concurrence in the violence which
Bothwell pretended to commit upon her. Murray fortified
this evidence by some testimonies of corresponding facts ;
and he added, some time after, the dying confession of one
Hubert, or French Paris, as he was called, a servant of
Bothwell's, who had been executed for the King's murder,
and who directly charged the Queen with her being acces-
sory to that criminal enterprise.
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 307
Mary's commissioners had used every expedient toward
this blow, which they saw coming" upon them, and against
which, it appears, they were not provided with any proper
defence. As soon as Murray opened his charge, they en-
deavoured to turn the conference from an inquiry into a
negotiation ; and though informed by the English commis-
sioners that nothing could be more dishonourable for their
mistress, than to enter into a treaty with such undutiful
subjects, before she had justified herself from those enor-
mous imputations which had been thrown upon her, they
still insisted that Elizabeth should settle terms of accom-
modation between Mary and her enemies in Scotland.
They maintained that, till their mistress had given in hei
answer to Murray's charge, his proofs could neither be
called for nor produced : and finding that the English com-
missioners were still determined to proceed in the method
which had been projected, they finally broke off the con-
ferences, and never would make any reply. These papers,
at least translations of them, have since been published.
The objections made to their authenticity are, in general,
of small force : but were they ever so specious, they cannot
now be hearkened to; since Mary, at the time when the
truth could have been fully cleared, did, in effect, ratify the
evidence against her, by recoiling from the inquiry at the
very critical moment, and refusing to give an answer to the
accusation of her enemies*.
But Elizabeth, though she had seen enough for her own
satisfaction, was determined that the most eminent persons
of her court should also be acquainted with these transac-
tions, and should be convinced of the equity of her proceed-
ings. She ordered her Privy-council to be assembled, and,
that she might render the matter more solemn and authen-
tic, she summoned, along with them, the Earls of North-
umberland, Westmoreland, Shrewsbury, Worcester, Hunt-
ingdon, and Warwick. All the proceedings of the English
* Vide the observations of Hume, before the Appendix.
308 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume
commissioners were read to them : the evidences produced
by Murray were perused : a great number of letters written
by Mary to Elizabeth were laid before them,, and the hand-
writing- compared with that of the letters delivered in by
the Regent: the refusal of the Queen of Scots' commis-
sioners to make any reply, was related : and on the whole
Elizabeth told them, that as she had from the first thought
it improper that Mary, after such horrid crimes were im-
puted to her, should be admitted to her presence before
she had, in some measure, justified herself from the
charge ; so now, when her guilt was confirmed by so many
evidences, and all answer refused, she must, for her
part, persevere more steadily in that resolution. Eliza-
beth next called in the Queen of Scots' commissioners,
and after observing that she deemed it much more de-
cent for their mistress to continue the conferences, than
to require the liberty of justifying herself in person, she told
them, that Mary might either send her reply by a person
whom she trusted, or deliver it herself to some English
nobleman, whom Elizabeth should appoint to wait upon
her : but as to her resolution of making no reply at all, she
must regard it as the strongest confession of guilt; nor
could they ever be deemed her friends who advised her to
that method of proceeding. These topics she enforced still
more strongly in a letter which she wrote to Mary herself.
, The Queen of Scots had no other subterfuge from these
pressing remonstrances, than still to demand a personal
interview with Elizabeth: a concession which, she was
sensible, would never be granted; because Elizabeth
knew that this expedient could decide nothing ; because it
brought matters to extremity which that Princess desired to
avoid ; and because it had been refused from the beginning,
even before the commencement of the conferences. In
order to keep herself better in countenance, Mary thought
of another device. Though the conferences were broken
off, she ordered her Commissioners to accuse the Earl of
hume. J MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 309
Murray and his associates as the murderers of the King- :
but this accusation, coming" so late, being extorted merely
by a complaint of Murray's, and being* unsupported by any
proof, could only be regarded as an angry recrimination
upon her enemy. She also desired to have copies of the
papers given in by the regent ; but as she still persisted in
her resolution to make no reply before the English Com-
missioners, this demand was finally refused her.
As Mary had thus put an end to the conferences, the
regent expressed great impatience to return into Scotland ;
and he complained, that his enemies had taken advantage
of his absence, and had thrown the whole government
into confusion. Elizabeth therefore dismissed him ; and
granted him a loan of 50001. to bear the charges of his
journey. During the conferences at York, the Duke of
Chatelrault arrived at London, in passing from France ;
and as the Queen knew that he was engaged in Mary's
party, and had very plausible pretensions to the regency
of the King of Scots, she thought proper to detain him
till after Murray's departure. But notwithstanding these
marks of favour, and some other assistance which she
secretly gave this latter nobleman, she still declined ac-
knowledging the young King, or treating with Murray as
regent of Scotland.
Orders were given for removing the Queen of Scots
from Bolton, a place surrounded with Catholics, to Tut-
bury, in the county of Stafford, where she was put under
the custody of the Earl of Shrewsbury. Elizabeth en-
tertained hopes that this Princess, discouraged by her mis-
fortunes, and confounded by the late transactions, would
be glad to secure a safe retreat from all the tempests with
which she had been agitated ; and she promised to bury
every thing in oblivion, provided Mary would agree, either
voluntarily to resign her crown, or to associate her son
with her in the government ; and the administration to ra-
main, during his minority, in the hands of the Earl of
310 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
Murray. But that high-spirited Princess refused all treaty
upon such terms, and declared that her last words should
be those of a Queen of Scotland. Besides many other
reasons, she said, which fixed her in that resolution, she
knew, that if, in the present emergency, she made such
concessions, her submission would be universally deemed
an acknowledgment of guilt, and would ratify all the
calumnies of her enemies.
Mary still insisted upon this alternative ; either that
Elizabeth should assist her in recovering her authority, or
should give her liberty to retire into France, and make
trial of the friendship of other Princes; and as she as-
serted that she had come voluntarily into England, in-
vited by many former professions of amity, she thought
that one or other of these requests could not, without the
most extreme injustice, be refused her. But Elizabeth,
sensible of the danger which attended both these pro-
posals, was secretly resolved to detain her still a captive ;
and as her retreat into England had been little voluntary,
her claim upon the Queen's generosity appeared much
less urgent than she was willing to pretend. Necessity, it
was thought, would, to the prudent, justify her detention :
her past misconduct would apologise for it to the equitable:
and though it was foreseen, that compassion for Mary's
situation, joined to her intrigues and insinuating behaviour,
would, while she remained in England, excite the zeal
of her friends, especially of the Catholics, these incon-
veniences were deemed much inferior to those which
attended any other expedient. Elizabeth trusted also to
her own address for eluding all these difficulties : she pur-
posed to avoid breaking absolutely with the Queen of
Scots, to keep her always in hopes of an accommodation,
to negociate perpetually with her, and still to throw the
blame of not coming to any conclusion, either on unfore-
seen accidents, or on the obstinacy and perverseness of
others.
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 311
The Duke of Norfolk was the only Peer that enjoyed the
highest title of nobility; and as there was at present no
Princes of the Blood, the splendour of his family, the opu-
lence of his fortune, and the extent of his influence, had
rendered him without comparison the first subject in Eng-
land. The qualities of his mind corresponded to his high
station : beneficent, affable, generous, he had acquired the
affections of the people : prudent, moderate, obsequious, he
possessed, without giving- any jealousy, the good graces of
his sovereign. His grandfather and father had long been
regarded as the leaders of the Catholics ; and this heredi-
tary attachment, joined to the alliance of blood, had pro-
cured him the friendship of the most considerable men of
that party ; but as he had been educated among the re-
formers, he was sincerely devoted to their principles, and
maintained a strict decorum and regularity of life, by which
the Protestants were at that time distinguished ; he thereby
enjoyed the rare felicity of being popular even with the most
opposite factions. The height of his prosperity alone
was the source of his misfortunes, and engaged him in at-
tempts from which his virtue and prudence would natu-
rally have for ever kept him at a distance.
Norfolk was at this time a widower ; and being of a suit-
able age, his marriage with the Queen of Scots had ap-
peared so natural, that it had occurred to several of his
friends and those of that Princess ; but the first person who,
after Secretary Lidington, opened the scheme to the Duke,
is said to have been the Earl of Murray, before his departure
for Scotland. That nobleman set before Norfolk both the
advantage of composing the dissensions in Scotland by an
alliance which would be so generally acceptable, and the
prospect of reaping the succession of England ; and in order
to bind Norfolk's interest the faster with Mary's, he pro-
posed that the Duke's daughter should also espouse the
young King of Scotland. The previously obtaining of Eli-
312 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
zabeth 's consent, was regarded, both by Murray and Nor-
folk, as a circumstance essential to the success of their pro-
j ect ; and all terms being adjusted between them, Murray
took care, by means of Sir Robert Melvil, to have the de-
sign communicated to the Queen of Scots. This Princess
replied, that the vexations which she had met with in her
two last marriages, had made her more inclined to lead a
single life ; but she was determined to sacrifice her own in-
clinations to the public welfare : and therefore, as soon as
she should be legally divorced from Both well, she would be
determined by the opinion of her nobility and people in the
choice of another husband.
It is probable that Murray was not sincere in this pro-
posal. He had two motives to engage him to dissimula-
tion. He knew the danger which he must run in his re-
turn through the north of England, from the power of the
Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, Mary's parti-
sans in that country ; and he dreaded an insurrection in
Scotland from the Duke of Chatelrault and the Earls of
Argyle and Huntley, whom she had appointed her lieute-
nants during her absence. By these feigned appearances
of friendship, he both engaged Norfolk to write in his fa-
vour to the northern noblemen; and he persuaded the
Queen of Scots to give her lieutenants permission, and even
advice, to conclude a cessation of hostilities with the Re-
gent's party.
The Duke of Norfolk, though he had agreed that Eliza-
beth's consent should be previously obtained before the
completion of his marriage, had reason to apprehend that
he never should prevail with her voluntarily to make that
concession. He knew her perpetual and unrelenting jea-
lousy ag-ainst her heir and rival ; he was acquainted with
her former reluctance to all proposals of marriage with the
Queen of Scots ; he foresaw that this Princess's espousing
a person of his power and character and interest, would
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 313
give the greatest umbrage; and as it would then become
necessary to reinstate her in possession of her throne on
some tolerable terms, and even to endeavour the re-esta-
blishing of her character, he dreaded lest Elizabeth, whose
politics had now taken a different turn, would never agree
to such indulgent and generous conditions. He therefore
attempted previously to gain the consent and approbation
of several of the most considerable nobility ; and he was
successful with the Earls of Pembroke, Arundel, Derby,
Bedford, Shrewsbury, Southampton, Northumberland,
Westmoreland, Sussex*. Lord Lumley and Sir Nicholas
Throgmorton cordially embraced the proposal : even the
earl of Leicester, Elizabeth's declared favourite, who had
formerly entertained some views of espousing* Mary, wil-
lingly resigned all his pretensions, and seemed to enter zea-
lously into Norfolk's interests. There were other motives
besides affection to the Duke, which produced this general
combination of the nobility.
Sir William Cecil, Secretary of State, was the most vi-
gilant, active, and prudent minister ever known in Eng-
land ; and as he was governed by no views but the interests
of his Sovereign, which he had inflexibly pursued, his au-
thority over her became every day more predominant. Ever
cool himself, and uninfluenced by prejudice or affection, he
checked those sallies of passion, and sometimes of caprice,
to which she was subject ; and if he failed of persuading
her in the first movement, his perseverance, and remon-
strances, and arguments, were sure at last to recommend
themselves to her sound discernment. The more credit he
gained with his mistress, the more was he exposed to the
envy of her other counsellors ; and as he had been supposed
to adopt the interests of the House of Suffolk, whose claim
seemed to carry with it no danger to the present establish-
ment, his enemies, in opposition to him, were naturally
* Ancestor of the present noble family of Salisbury an4 Exeter.
S S
314 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume
led to attach themselves to the Queen of Scots. Elizabeth
saw, without uneasiness, this emulation among* her courtiers,
which served to augment her own authority ; and though
she supported Cecil, whenever matters came to extremi-
ties, and dissipated every conspiracy against him, particu-
larly one laid about this time for having him thrown into
the Tower on some pretence or other, she never gave him
such unlimited confidence as might enable him entirely to
crash his adversaries.
Norfolk, sensible of the difficulty which he must meet
with in controlling Cecil's counsels, especially where they
concurred with the inclination as well as interest of the
Queen, durst not open to her his intentions of marrying the
Queen of Scots ; but proceeded still in the same course, of
increasing his interest in the kingdom, and engaging more
of the nobility to take part in his measures. A letter was
written to Mary by Leicester, and signed by several of the
first rank, recommending Norfolk for her husband, and sti-
pulating conditions for the advantage of both kingdoms :
particularly, that she should give sufficient surety to Eliza-
beth, and the heirs of her body, for the free enjoyment of
the crown of England; that a perpetual league, offensive
and defensive, should be made between their realms and
subjects ; that the Protestant religion should be established
by law in Scotland ; and that she should grant amnesty to
her rebels in that kingdom. When Mary returned a fa-
vourable answer to this application, Norfolk employed him-
self with new ardour in the execution of his project ; and
besides securing the interests of many of the considerable
gentry and nobility who resided at court, he wrote letters
to such as lived at their country seats, and possessed the
greatest authority in the several counties. The Kings of
France and Spain, who interested themselves extremely in
Mary's cause, were secretly consulted, and expressed their
approbation of those measures. And though Elizabeth's
consent was always supposed as a previous condition to the
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 315
finishing- of this alliance, it was apparently Norfolk's inten-
tion, when he proceeded such lengths without consulting*
her, to render his party so strong*, that it should no longer
be in her power to refuse it.
It was impossible that so extensive a conspiracy could en-
tirely escape the Queen's vigilance and that of Cecil. She
dropped several intimations to the Duke, by which he
might learn that she was acquainted with his designs ; and
she frequently warned him to beware on what pillow he re-
posed his head : but he never had the prudence or the cou-
rage to open to her his full intentions. Certain intelligence
of this dangerous combination was given her first by Lei-
cester, then by Murray*, who, if ever he was sincere in
promoting Norfolk's marriage, which is much to be doubted,
had at least intended, for his own safety, and that of his
party, that Elizabeth should, in reality, as in appearance,
be entire arbiter of the conditions, and should not have her
consent extorted by any confederacy of her own subjects.
This information gave great alarm to the court of England ;
and the more so, as those intrigues were attended with
other circumstances, of which, it is probable, Elizabeth
was not wholly ignorant.
Among the nobility and gentry that seemed to enter into
Norfolk's views, there were many who were zealously at-
tached to the Catholic religion, who had no other design
than that of restoring Mary to her liberty, and who would
gladly, by a combination with foreign powers, or even at the
expense of a civil war, have placed her on the throne of Eng-
land. The Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland,
who possessed great power in the north, were leaders of
this party ; and the former nobleman made offer to the
Queen of Scots, by Leonard Dacres, brother to Lord Dacres,
* Lesley, p. 71. It appears by Haynes, p. 1521," 525, that Elizabeth
had heard rumours of Norfolk's dealing with Murray ; and charged
the latter to inform her of the whole truth, which he accordingly
did. See also the Earl of Murray's letter produced on Norfolk's
trial.
316 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
that he would free her from confinement, and convey her to
Scotland, or any other place to which she should think pro-
perto retire. Sir Thomas and Sir Edward Stanley, sons of
the Earl of Derby, Sir Thomas Gerrard Rolstone, and other
gentlemen, whose interests lay in the neighbourhood of the
place where Mary resided, concurred in the same views ; and
required that, in order to facilitate the execution of the
scheme, a diversion should, in the mean time, be made from
the side of Flanders. Norfolk discouraged, and even in appear-
ance suppressed, these conspiracies; both because his duty
to Elizabeth would not allow him to think of effecting his
purpose by rebellion, and because he foresaw that, if the
Queen of Scots came into the possession of these men, they
would rather choose for her husband the King of Spain, or
some foreign prince, who had power as well as inclination,
to re-establish the Catholic religion.
When men of honour and good principles, like the
Duke of Norfolk, engage in dangerous enterprises,
they are commonly so unfortunate as to be criminal by
halves ; and while they balance between the execution of
their designs and their remorses, their fear of punishment
and their hope of pardon, they render themselves an easy prey
to their enemies. The Duke, in order to repress the sur-
mises spread against him, spoke contemptuously to Eliza-
beth of the Scottish alliance ; affirmed that his estate in
England was more valuable than the revenue of a kingdom
w T asted by civil wars and factions ; and declared that, when
he amused himself in his own tennis-court at Norwich,
amidst his friends and vassals, he deemed himself at least a
petty prince, and was fully satisfied with his condition.
Finding that he did not convince her by these asseverations,
and that he was looked on with a jealous eye by the minis-
ters, he retired to his country-seat without taking leave.
He soon after repented of this measure, and set out on his
return to court, with a view of using every expedient to
regain the Queen's good graces ; but he was met at St,
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 317
Alban's by Fitz-Garret, lieutenant of the band of pen-
sioners, by whom he was conveyed to Burnham, three
miles from Windsor, where the court then resided. He was
soon after committed to the Tower, under the custody of
Sir Henry Nevil. Lesley, Bishop of Ross, the Queen of
Scots' ambassador, was examined and confronted with Nor-
folk before the council. The Earl of Pembroke was con-
fined to his own house. Arundel, Lumley, and Throg-
morton were taken into custody. The Queen of Scots
herself was removed to Coventry; all access to her was,
during* some time, more strictly prohibited ; and Viscount
Hereford was joined to the Earls of Shrewsbury and Hun-
tingdon in the office of guarding her.
A rumour had been diffused in the North of an intended
rebellion ; and the Earl of Sussex, president of York,
alarmed with the danger, sent for Northumberland and
Westmoreland, in order to examine them ; but not finding
any proof against them, he allowed them to depart. The
report meanwhile gained ground daily ; and many appear-
ances of its reality being discovered, orders were dispatched
by Elizabeth to these two noblemen to appear at court, and
answer for their conduct. They had already proceeded so
far in their criminal designs, that they dared not to trust
themselves in her hands ; they had prepared measures for a
rebellion ; had communicated their design to Mary and her
ministers; had entered into a correspondence with the
Duke of Alva, governor of the Low Countries ; had ob-
tained his promise of a reinforcement of troops, and a sup-
ply of arms and ammunition ; and had prevailed on him to
send over to London Chiapino Vitelli, one of his most fa-
mous captains, on pretence of adjusting some differences
with the Queen ; but in reality with a view of putting him
at the head of the Northern rebels. The summons sent to
the two Earls, precipitated the rising, before they were
fully prepared ; and Northumberland remained in suspence
between opposite dangers, when he was informed that some
318 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
of his enemies were on the way with a commission to ar-
rest him. He took horse instantly, and hastened to his as-
sociate Westmoreland, whom he found surrounded with his
friends and vassals, and deliberating with regard to the mea-
sures which he should follow in the present emergency.
They determined to begin the insurrection without delay ;
and the great creditof these two noblemen, with that zeal for
the Catholic religion which still prevailed in the neighbour-
hood, soon drew together multitudes of the common peo-
ple. They published a manifesto, in which they declared,
that they intended to attempt nothing against the Queen,
to whom they avowed unshaken allegiance ; and that their
sole aim was to re-establish the religion of their ancestors,
to remove evil counsellors, and to restore the Duke of Nor-
folk and other faithful peers to their liberty and to the
Queen's favour. The numbers of the malcontents
amounted to four thousand foot and sixteen hundred horse ;
and they expected the concurrence of all the Catholics in
England.
The Queen was not negligent in her own defence,
and she had beforehand, from her prudent and wise
conduct, acquired the general good will of her people,
the best security of a sovereign: insomuch that even
the Catholics in most countries expressed an affection
for her service ; and the Duke of Norfolk himself, though
he had lost her favour, and lay in confinement, was not
wanting, as far as his situation permitted, to promote the
levies among his friends and retainers. Sussex, attended
by the earls of Rutland, the lords Hunsdon, Evers, and
Willoughby of Parham, marched against the rebels at the
head of seven thousand men, and found them already ad-
vanced to the bishopric of Durham, of which they had
taken possession. They retired before him to Hexham;
and hearing that the earl of Warwick and lord Clinton
were advancing against them with a greater body, they
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 319
found no other resource than to disperse themselves with-
out striking- a blow. The common people retired to their
houses: the leaders fled into Scotland. Northumberland
was found skulking- in that country, and was confined by
Murray in the castle of Lochlevin. Westmoreland received
shelter from the chieftains of the Kers and Scots, partisans
of Mary ; and persuaded them to make an inroad into Eng-
land, with a view of exciting a quarrel between the two
kingdoms. After they had committed great ravages, they
retreated to their own country. This sudden and precipi-
tate rebellion was followed soon after by another still more
imprudent, raised by Leonard Dacres. Lord Hunsden, at
the head of the garrison of Berwick, was able, without any
other assistance, to quell these rebels. Great severity was
exercised against such as had taken part in these rash en-
terprises. Sixty-six petty constables were hanged, and no
less than eight hundred persons are said, on the whole, to
have suffered by the hands of the executioner. But the
queen was so well pleased with Norfolk's behaviour, that
she released him from the Tower ; allowed him to live,
though under some shew of confinement, in his own house ;
and only exacted a promise from him not to proceed any
farther in his negociations with the queen of Scots.
Elizabeth now found that the detention of Mary was at-
tended with all the ill consequences which she had fore-
seen when she first embraced that measure. This latter
princess, recovering, by means of her misfortunes and her
own natural good sense, from that delirium into which she
seems to have been thrown during her attachment to Both-
well, had behaved with such modesty and judgment, and
even dignity, that every one who approached her was
charmed with her demeanour ; and her friends were ena-
bled, on some plausible grounds, to deny the reality of all
those crimes which had been imputed to her. Compassion
for her situation, and the necessity of procuring her liberty,
proved an incitement among all the partisans to be active
320 LOVE LETTERS OF [rume.
in promoting- her cause : and, as her deliverance from cap-
tivity, it was thought, could nowise be effected but by at-
tempts dangerous to the established government, Elizabeth
had reason to expect little tranquillity so long* as the
Scottish queen remained a prisoner in her hands. But as
this inconvenience had been preferred to the danger of al-
lowing that princess to enjoy her liberty, and to seek relief
in all the Catholic courts of Europe, it behoved the queen
to support the measure which she had adopted, and to guard,
by every prudent expedient, against the mischiefs to which
it was exposed. She still flattered Mary with hopes of her
protection, maintained an ambiguous conduct between that
queen and her enemies in Scotland, negociated perpetually
concerning the terms of her restoration, made constant pro-
fessions of friendship to her : and by these artifices endea-
voured both to prevent her from making any desperate ef-
forts for her deliverance, and to satisfy the French and Spa-
nish ambassadors, who never intermitted their solicitations,
sometimes accompanied with menaces, in her behalf. This
deceit was received with the same deceit by the queen of
Scots : professions of confidence were returned by profes-
sions equally insincere : and while an appearance of friend-
ship was maintained on both sides, the animosity and jea-
lousy, which had long prevailed between them, became
every day more inveterate and incurable. These two prin-
cesses in address, capacity, activity, and spirit, were nearly
a match for each other ; but unhappily, Mary, besides her
present forlorn condition, was always inferior, in personal
conduct and discretion, as well as in power, to her illus-
trious rival.
Elizabeth and Mary wrote at the same time letters to
the regent. The Queen of Scots desired that her mar-
riage with Both well might be examined, and a divorce be
legally pronounced between them. The Queen of Eng-
land gave Murray the choice of three conditions ; that
Mary should be restored to her dignity on certain terms;
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 321
that she should be associated with her son, and the admi-
nistration remain in the regent's hands, till the young-
Prince should come to years of discretion ; or that she
should be allowed to live at liberty as a private person
in Scotland, and have an honourable settlement made in
her favour. Murray summoned a convention of states, in
order to deliberate on these proposals of the two Queens :
no answer was made by them to Mary's letter, on pretence
that she had there employed the style of a sovereign, ad-
dressing herself to her subjects ; but in reality, because
they saw that her request was calculated to prepare the
way for a marriage with Norfolk, or some powerful Prince,
who could support her cause, and restore her to the
throne. They replied to Elizabeth, that the two former
conditions were so derogatory to the royal authority of
their Prince, that they could not so much as deliberate
concerning them : the third alone could be the subject of
treaty. It was evident that Elizabeth, in proposing con-
ditions so unequal in their importance, invited the Scots to
a refusal of those which were the most advantag-eous to
Mary ; and as it was difficult, if not impossible, to adjust
all the terms of the third, so as to render it secure and
eligible to all parties, it was concluded that she was not
sincere in any of them.
ASSASSINATION OP THE EARL OF MURRAY. 1570.
It is pretended that Murray had entered into a private
negociation with the Queen, to get Mary delivered into
his hands ; and as Elizabeth found the detention of her
in England so dangerous, it is probable that she would
have been pleased, on any honourable or safe terms, to rid
herself of a prisoner who gave her so much inquietude.
But all these projects vanished by the sudden death of the
T t
322 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
Regent, who was assassinated (Jan. 23), in revenge of a
private injury, by a gentleman of the name of Hamilton.
Murray was a person of considerable vigour, abilities, and
constancy; but, though he was not unsuccessful, during
his regency, in composing the dissensions in Scotland, his
talents shone out more eminently in the beginning than
in the end of his life. His manners were rough and
austere, and he possessed not that perfect integrity, which
frequently accompanies, and can alone atone for, that un-
amiable character.
By the death of the Regent, Scotland relapsed into
anarchy. Mary's party assembled together, and made
themselves masters of Edinburgh. The Castle, com-
manded by Kirkaldy of Grange, seemed to favour her
cause ; and, as many of the principal nobility had em-
braced that party, it became probable, though the people
were in general averse to her, that her authority might
again acquire the ascendant. To check its progress, Eli-
zabeth dispatched Sussex with an army to the north, un-
der colour of chastising the ravages committed by the
borderers. He entered Scotland, and laid waste the
lands of the Kers and Scots, seized the castle of Hume,
and committed hostilities on all Mary's partisans, who, he
said, had oifended his mistress by harbouring the English
rebels. Sir William Drury was afterward sent with a
body of troops, and he threw down the houses of the
Hamiltons, who were engaged in the same faction. The
English armies were afterward recalled by agreement with
the Queen of Scots, who promised, in return, that no
French troops should be introduced into Scotland, and
that the English rebels should be delivered up to the
Queen by her partisans.
But though the Queen, covering herself with the pre-
tence of revenging her own quarrel, so far contributed
to support the party of the young King of Scots, she was
cautious not to declare openly against Mary; and she
hume,] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 323
even sent a request, which was equivalent to a command,
to the enemies of that Princess, not to elect, during- some
time, a Regent in the place of Murray. Lenox, the King's
grandfather, was therefore chosen temporary Governor,
under the title of Lieutenant. Hearing afterward that
Mary's partisans, instead of delivering up Westmoreland,
and the other fugitives, as they had promised, had allowed
them to escape into Flanders; she permitted the King's
party to give Lenox the title of Regent ; and she sent
Randolph, as her resident, to maintain a correspondence
with him. But notwithstanding this step, taken in favour
of Mary's enemies, she never laid aside her ambiguous
conduct, nor quitted the appearance of amity to that
Princess. Being importuned by the Bishop of Ross, and
her other agents, as well as by foreign Ambassadors, she
twice procured a suspension of arms between the Scottish
factions, and by that means stopped the hands of the Re-
gent, who was likely to obtain advantages over the op-
posite party. By these seeming contrarieties she kept
alive the factions in Scotland, increased their mutual ani-
mosity, and rendered the whole country a scene of de-
vastation and of misery. She had no intention to conquer
the kingdom, and consequently no interest or design to
instigate the parties against each other; but this conse-
quence was an accidental effect of her cautious politics, by
which she was engaged, as far as possible, to keep on
good terms with the Queen of Scots, and never to violate
the appearances of friendship with her, at least those of
neutrality.
The better to amuse Mary with the prospect of an ac-
commodation, Cecil and Sir Walter Mildmay were sent
to her with proposals from Elizabeth. The terms were
somewhat rigorous, such as a captive Queen might expect
from a jealous rival ; and they thereby bore the greater
appearances of sincerity on the part of the English Court.
It was required that the Queen of Scots, besides re-
324 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
nounting all title to the crown of England during the
lifetime of Elizabeth, should make a perpetual league,
offensive and defensive, between the kingdoms ; that she
should marry no Englishman without Elizabeth's consent,
nor any other person without the consent of the states
of Scotland; that compensation should be made for the
late ravages committed in England; that justice should
be executed on the murderers of King Henry ; that the
young Prince should be sent into England, to be edu-
cated there; and that six hostages, all of them noble-
men, should be delivered to the Queen of England, with
the castle of Hume, and some other fortress, for the se-
curity of performance. Such were the conditions upon
which Elizabeth promised to contribute her endeavours to-
wards the restoration of the deposed Queen. The neces-
sity of Mary's affairs obliged her to consent to them ; and
the Kings of France and Spain, as well as the Pope, when
consulted by her, approved of her conduct; chiefly on
account of the civil wars, by which all Europe was at
that time agitated, and which incapacitated the Catholic
Princes from giving her any assistance.
Elizabeth's commissioners proposed also to Mary a plan
of accommodation with her subjects in Scotland ; and after
some reasoning on that head, it was agreed that the queen
should require Lenox, the regent, to send commissioners,
in order to treat of conditions under her mediation. The
partisans of Mary boasted, that all terms were fully settled
with the court of England, and that the Scottish rebels
would soon be constrained to submit to the authority of
their sovereign: but Elizabeth took care that these rumours
should meet with no credit, and that the king's party should
not be discouraged, nor sink too low in their demands.
Cecil wrote to inform the regent, that all the queen of
England's proposals, so far from being fixed and irrevoca-
ble, were to be discussed anew in the conference ; and de-
sired him to send commissioners who should be constant in
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 325
the king's cause, and cautious not to make concessions which
might be prejudicial to their party. Sussex also, in his let-
ters, dropped hints to the same purpose ; and Elizabeth
herself said to the abbot of Dunfermling, whom Lenox had
sent to the court of England, that she would not insist on
Mary's restoration, provided the Scots could make the jns-
tice of their cause appear to her satisfaction ; and that,
even if their reasons should fall short of full conviction,
she would take effectual care to provide for their future
security.
The parliament of Scotland (March 1) appointed the
Earl of Morton and Sir James Macgill, together with the
abbot of Dunfermling, to manage the treaty. These com-
missioners presented memorials, containing reasons for the
deposition of their Queen ; and they seconded their argu-
ments with examples drawn from the Scottish history, with
the authority of laws, and with the sentiments of many fa-
mous divines. The lofty ideas which Elizabeth had enter-
tained, of the absolute, indefeasible right of sovereigns,
made her be shocked with these republican topics ; and she
told the Scottish commissioners, that she was nowise satis-
fied with their reasons for justifying the conduct of their
countrymen; and that they might therefore, without at-
tempting any apology, proceed to open the conditions
which they required for their security. They replied, that
their commission did not empower them to treat of any
terms which might infringe the title and sovereignty of
their young king, but they would gladly hear whatever
proposals should be made them by her Majesty. The con-
ditions recommended by the Queen were not disadvan-
tageous to Mary ; but as the commissioners still insisted,
that they were not authorised to treat in any manner con-
cerning the restoration of that princess, the conferences
were necessarily at an end ; and Elizabeth dismissed the
Scottish commissioners, with injunctions, that they should
return, after having procured more ample powers from their
326 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
parliament. The Bishop of Ross openly complained to the
English council, that they had abused his mistress by fair
promises and professions ; and Mary herself was no longer
at a loss to judge of Elizabeth's insincerity. By reason of
these disappointments, matters came still nearer to extre-
mities between the two princesses ; and the Queen of Scots,
finding all her hopes eluded, was more strongly incited to
make, at all hazards, every possible attempt for her liberty
and security.
An incident also happened about this time, which tended
to widen the breach between Mary and Elizabeth, and to
increase the vigilance and jealousy of the latter princess.
Pope Pius V. who had succeeded Paul, after having endea-
voured in vain to conciliate by gentle means the friendship
of Elizabeth, whom his predecessor's violence had irritated,
issued at last a bull of excommunication against her, de-
prived her of all title to the crown, and absolved her subjects
from their oaths of allegiance. It seems probable, that this
attack on the Queen's authority was made in concert with
Mary, who intended by that means to forward the northern
rebellion ; a measure which was at that time in agitation.
John Felton affixed this bull to the gates of the Bishop of
London's palace ; and scorning either to fly or to deny the
fact, he was seized and condemned, and received the crown
of martyrdom, for which he seems to have entertained so
violent an ambition.
NEW CONSPIRACY OF THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.
All the enemies of Elizabeth, in order to revenge them-
selves for her insults, had naturally recourse to one policy,
the supporting of the cause and pretensions of the Queen of
Scots ; and Alva, whose measures were ever violent, soon
opened a secret intercourse with that princess. There was
one Rodolphi, a Florentine merchant, who had resided
about fifteen years in London, and who, while he conducted
his commerce in England, had managed all the correspond-
ence of the court of Rome with the Catholic nobility and
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 327
gentry. He had been thrown into prison at the time when
the Duke of Norfolk's intrigues with Mary had been disco-
vered ; but either no proof was found against him, or the
part which he had acted was not very criminal ; and he
soon after recovered his liberty. This man, zealous for the
Catholic faith, had formed a scheme, in concert with the
Spanish Ambassador, for subverting the government, by a
foreign invasion and a domestic insurrection ; and when he
communicated his project, by letter, to Mary, he found that,
as she was now fully convinced of Elizabeth's artifices, and
despaired of ever recovering her authority, or even her
liberty, by pacific measures, she willingly gave her concur-
rence. The great number of discontented Catholics were
the chief source of their hopes on the side of England ; and
they also observed, that the kingdom was, at that time,
full of indigent gentry, chiefly younger brothers, who hav-
ing at present, by the late decay of the church, and the yet
languishing state of commerce, no prospect of a livelihood
suitable to their birth, were ready to throw themselves into
any desperate enterprise. But in order to inspire life and
courage into all these malcontents, it was requisite that
some great nobleman should put himself at their head ; and
no one appeared to Rodolphi, and to the Bishop of Ross,
who entered into all these intrigues, so proper, both on
account of his power and his popularity, as the duke of
Norfolk.
This nobleman, when released from confinement in the
Tower, had given his promise, that he would drop all in-
tercourse with the queen of Scots ; but finding that he had
lost, and as he feared beyond recovery, the confidence and
favour of Elizabeth, and being still, in some degree, re-
strained from his liberty, he was tempted, by impatience
and despair, to violate his word, and to open anew his cor-
respondence with the captive princess. A promise of mar-
riage was renewed between them ; the duke engaged to
enter into all her interests : and as his remorses gradually
328 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
diminished in the course of these transactions, he was
pushed to give his consent to enterprises still more criminal.
Rodolphi's plan was, that the duke of Alva should, on some
other pretence, assemble a great quantity of shipping in
the Low Countries ; should transport a body of six thou-
sand foot, and four thousand horse, into England ; should
land them at Harwich, where the duke of Norfolk was to
join them with all his friends ; should thence march di-
rectly to London, and oblige the queen to submit to what-
ever terms the conspirators should please to impose on her.
Norfolk expressed his assent to this plan ; and three letters,
in consequence of it, were written in his name by Rodolphi,
one to Alva, another to the pope, and a third to the king
of Spain ; but the duke, apprehensive of the danger, re-
fused to sign them. He only sent to the Spanish ambassa-
dor a servant and a confidant, named Barker, as well to
notify his concurrence in the plan, as to vouch for the au-
thenticity of these letters ; and Rodolphi, having obtained
a letter of credence from the ambassador, proceeded on his
journey to Brussels and to Rome. The duke of Alva and
the pope embraced the scheme with alacrity : Rodolphi
informed Norfolk of their intentions ; and every thing
seemed to concur in forwarding the undertaking.
Norfolk, notwithstanding these criminal enterprises, had
never entirely forgotten his duty to his sovereign, his coun-
try, and his religion : and though he had laid the plan both
of an invasion and insurrection, he still flattered himself,
that the innocence of his intentions would justify the vio-
lence of his measures, and that, as he aimed at nothing but
the liberty of the queen of Scots, and the obtaining of Eli-
zabeth's consent to his marriage, he could not justly re-
proach himself as a rebel and a traitor. It is certain, how-
ever, that, considering the queen's vigour and spirit, the
scheme, if successful, must finally have ended in dethroning
her ; and her authority was here exposed to the utmost
danger.
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 329
The conspiracy hitherto had entirely escaped the vigi-
lance of Elizabeth, and that of secretary Cecil, who now
bore the title of Lord Burleigh. It was from another at-
tempt of Norfolk's, that they first obtained a hint, which,
being diligently traced, led at last to a full discovery. Mary
had intended to send a sum of money to Lord Herries, and
her partisans in Scotland ; and Norfolk undertook to have
it delivered to Bannister, a servant of his, at that time in
the north, who was to find some expedient for conveying
it to Lord Herries. He intrusted the money to a servant
who was not in the secret, and told him that the bag- con-
tained a sum of money in silver, which he was to deliver to
Bannister with a letter : but the servant conjecturing, from
the weight and size of the bag", that it was full of gold,
carried the letter to Burleigh ; who immediately ordered
Bannister, Barker, and Hickford, the duke's secretary, to
be put under arrest, and to undergo a severe examination.
Torture made them confess the whole truth ; and as Hick-
ford, though ordered to burn all papers, had carefully kept
them concealed under the mats of the duke's chamber, and
under the tiles of the house, full evidence now appeared
against his master. Norfolk himself, who was entirely ig-
norant of the discoveries made by his servants, was brought
before the council ; and though exhorted to atone for his
guilt, by a full confession, he persisted in denying every
crime with which he was charged. The queen always de-
clared, that if he had given her this proof of his sincere re-
pentance, she would have pardoned all his former offences ;
but finding him obstinate, she committed him to the Tower,
and ordered him to be brought to his trial. The Bishop of
Ross had, on some suspicion, been committed to custody
before the discovery of Norfolk's guilt ; and every expe-
dient was employed to make him reveal his share in the
conspiracy. Heat first insisted on his privilege; but he
was told, that as his mistress was no longer a sovereign, he
would not be regarded as an ambassador, and that, even if
u u
1
330 LOVEJ LETTERS OF [hume
that character were allowed, it did not warrant him in con-
spiring- against the sovereign at whose court he resided. As
he still refused interrogatories, he was informed of the con-
fession made by Norfolk's servants, after which he no longer
scrupled to make a full discovery ; and his evidence put
the guilt of that nobleman beyond all question. A jury of
twenty-five peers unanimously passed sentence upon him
(Jan. 13.) The trial was quite regular, even according to
the strict rules observed at present in those matters; except
that the witnesses gave not their evidence in court, and
were not confronted with the prisoner; a laudable practice
which was not at that time observed in trials for hig-h
treason.
The queen still hesitated concerning Norfolk's execution,
whether that she was really moved by friendship and com-
passion towards a peer of that rank and merit, or that, af-
fecting the praise of clemency, she only put on the appear-
ance of these sentiments. Twice she signed a warrant for
his execution, and twice revoked the fatal sentence ; and
though her ministers and counsellors pushed her to rigour,
she still appeared irresolute and undetermined. After four
months' hesitation, a parliament was assembled, and the
commons addressing her, in strong terms, for the execution
of the duke (May8) ; a sanction which, when added to
the greatness and certainty of his guilt, would, she thought,
justify, in the eyes of all mankind, her severity against that
nobleman. Norfolk died with calmness and constancy
(June 2) ; and though he cleared himself of any disloyal
intentions against the queen's authority, he acknowledged
the justice of the sentence by which he suffered. That we
may relate together affairs of a similar nature, we shall
mention, that the Earl of Northumberland, being delivered
up to the queen by the regent of Scotland, was also, a few
months after, brought to the scaffold for his rebellion.
The Queen of Scots was either the occasion or the cause
of all these disturbances ; but as she was a Sovereign Prin-
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 331
cess, and might reasonably, from the harsh treatment which
she had met with,, think herself entitled to use any expe-
dient for her relief, Elizabeth durst not, as yet, form any
resolution of proceeding- to extremities against her. She
only sent Lord Delawar, Sir Ralph Sadler, Sir Thomas
Bromley, and Dr. Wilson, to expostulate with her, and to
demand satisfaction for all those parts of her conduct which,
from the beginning of her life, had given displeasure to
Elizabeth : her assuming the arms of England, refusing to
ratify the treaty of Edinburgh, intending to marry Norfolk
without the Queen's consent, concurring in the northern
rebellion, practising with Rodolphi to engage the King of
Spain in an invasion of England, procuring the Pope's bull
of excommunication, and allowing her friends abroad to
give her the title of Queen of England. Mary justified her-
self from the several articles of the charge, either by deny-
ing the facts imputed to her, or by throwing the blame on
others. But the Queen was little satisfied with her apo-
logy, and the parliament was so enraged against her, that
the commons made a direct application for her immediate
trial and execution. They employed some topics derived
from practice and reason, and the laws of nations ; but
the chief stress was laid on passages and examples
from the Old Testament, which, if considered as a ge-
neral rule of conduct (an intention which it is unreason-
able to suppose), would lead to consequences destructive of
all principles of humanity and morality. Matters were here
carried farther than Elizabeth intended ; and that Princess,
satisfied with shewing Mary the disposition of the nation,
sent to the house her express commands not to deal any far-
ther at present in the affair of the Scottish Queen. No-
thing could be a stronger proof that the Puritanical in-
terest prevailed in the house, than the intemperate use of
authorities derived from Scripture, especially from the Old
Testament ; and the Queen was so little a lover of that sect,
that she was not likely to make any concession merely in
332 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
deference to their solicitation. She shewed, this session,
her disapprobation of their schemes in another remarkable
instance. The commons had passed two bills for regulat-
ing ecclesiastical ceremonies ; but she sent them a like im-
perious message with her former ones ; and by the terror of
her prerogative, she stopped all farther proceedings in those
matters.
But though Elizabeth would not carry matters to such
extremities against Mary, as were recommended by the par-
liament, she was alarmed at the great interest and the rest-
less spirit of that Princess, as well as her close connections
with Spain ; and she thought it necessary both to increase
the rigour and strictness of her confinement, and to follow
maxims different from those which she had hitherto pur-
sued in her management of Scotland. That kingdom re-
mained still in a state of anarchy. The Castle of Edinburgh,
commanded by Kirkaldy of Grange, had declared for Mary ;
and the Lords of that party, encourag*ed by his countenance,
had taken possession of the capital, and carried on a vigo-
rous war against the Regent. By a sudden and unexpected
inroad, they seized that nobleman at Stirling ; but finding
that his friends, sallying from the Castle, were likely to
rescue him, they instantly put him to death. The Earl of
Marre was chosen Regent in his room; and found the same
difficulties in the government of that divided country. He
was therefore glad to accept of the mediation offered by the
French and English Ambassadors ; and to conclude on
equal terms a truce with the Queen's party. He was a man
of a free and generous spirit, and scorned to submit to any
dependance on England ; and for this reason, Elizabeth,
who had then formed intimate connections with France,
yielded with less reluctance to the solicitations of that
court, still maintained the appearance of neutrality between
the parties,, and allowed matters to remain on a balance in
Scotland. But affairs soon after took anew turn: Marre
died of melancholy, with which the distracted state of the
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 333
country affected him : Morton was chosen Regent ; and as
this nobleman had secretly taken all his measures with Eli-
zabeth, who no longer relied on the friendship of the French
court, she resolved to exert herself more effectually for the
support of the party which she had always favoured. She
sent Sir Henry Killegrew ambassador to Scotland, who
found Mary's partisans so discouraged by the discovery and
punishment of Norfolk's conspiracy, that they were glad to
submit to the King's authority, and accept of an indemnity
from all past offences. The Duke of Chatelrault and the
Earl of Huntley, with the most considerable of Mary's
friends, laid down their arms on these conditions. The
garrison alone of the Castle of Edinburgh continued re-
fractory. Kirkaldy's fortunes were desperate ; and he flat-
tered himself with the hopes of receiving assistance from
the kings of France and Spain, who encouraged his obsti-
nacy, in the view of being able, from that quarter, to give
disturbance to England. Elizabeth was alarmed with the
danger ; she no more apprehended making an entire breach
with the Queen of Scots, who, she found, would not any
longer be amused by her artifices ; she had an implicit re-
liance on Morton ; and she saw that by the submission of
all the considerable nobility, the pacification of Scotland
would be an easy, as well as a most important, undertaking.
She ordered, therefore, Sir William Drury, governor of
Berwick, to march with some troops and artillery to Edin-
burgh, and to besiege the castle. The garrison surren-
dered at discretion : Kirkaldy was delivered into the hands
of his countrymen, by whom he was tried, condemned, and
executed ; Secretary Lidington, who had taken part with
him, died soon after a voluntary death, as is supposed ; and
Scotland, submitting entirely to the Regent, gave not, dur-
ing a long time, any farther inquietude to Elizabeth,
We shall not enter into a long discussion concerning the authen-
ticity of these letters. We shall only remark in general, that the
chief objections against them are, that they are supposed to have
passed through the Earl of Morton's hands, the least scrupulous of
334 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume,
all Mary's enemies ; and that they are to the last degree indecent,
and even somewhat inelegant, such as it is not likely she would
write. But to these presumptions we may oppose the following
considerations.
1. Though it be not difficult to counterfeit a subscription, it is
very difficult, and almost impossible, to counterfeit several pages,
so as to resemble exactly the hand-writing of any person. These
letters were examined and compared with Mary's hand-writing-, by
the English privy-council, and by a great many of the nobility,
among whom were several partisans of that princess. They might
have been examined by the Bishop of Ross, Herries, and others
of Mary's commissioners. The Regent must have expected that
they would be very critically examined by them ; and had they not
been able to stand that test, he was only preparing a scene of con-
fusion to himself. Bishop Lesley expressly declines the comparing
of the hands, which he calls no legal proof. Goodall, vol. 2. p. 389.
2. The letters are very long, much longer than they needed
to have been, in order to serve the purposes of Mary's enemies ; a
circumstance which increased the difficulty, and exposed any for-
gery more to the risk of a detection.
3. They are not so gross and palpable as forgeries commonly
are, for they still left a pretext for Mary's friends to assert, that
their meaning was strained to make them appear criminal. See
Goodall, vol. 2. p. 361.
4. There is a long contract of marriage, said to be written by
the Earl of Huntley, and signed by the Queen, before Bothwell's
acquittal. Would Morton, without any necessity, have thus doubled
the difficulties of the forgery and the danger of detection?
5. The letters are indiscreet ; but such was apparently Mary's
conduct at that time : they are inelegant ; but they have a careless,
natural air, like letters hastily written between familiar friends.
6. They contain such a variety of particular circumstances as
nobody could have thought of inventing, especially as they must
necessarily have afforded her many means of detection.
* 7- We have not the originals of the letters, which were in
French : we have only a Scotch and Latin translation from the ori-
ginal, and a French translation professedly done from the Latin.
Now it is remarkable the Scotch translation is full of Gallicisms,
and is clearly a translation from the French original ; such as make
fault, /aire des /antes ; make it seem that I believe, /aire semblant
de la croire; make brek, /aire breche; this is my first journey \
c'est ma premiere journee ; have you not desire to laugh, rCave z
vous pas envie de rire ? the place will hold unto the death, la place
tiendra jusqu' a la mort ; he may not come forth of the house this
long time, il ne peupas sortir du logis de long terns ; to make m e
advertisement, fair m'avertir; put order to it, mettre ordre a cela ;
discharge your heart, decharger voire cosur; make gud watch,
faites bonne garde, &c.
8. There is a conversation which she mentions between herself
and the King one evening : but Murray produced before the Eng-
lish commissioners the testimony of one Crawford, a gentleman of
the Earl of Lenox, who swore that the King, on her departure from
him, gave him an account of the same conversation.
9. There seems very little reason why Murray and his associates
hume.] MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 335
should run the risk of such a dangerous forgery, which must have
rendered them infamous, if detected ; since their cause, from Mary's
known conduct, even without these letters, was sufficiently good
and justifiable.
1 6. Murray exposed these letters to the examination of persons
qualified to judge of them ; the Scotch council, the Scotch parlia-
ment, Queen Elizabeth and her council, who were possessed of a
great number of Mary's genuine letters.
1 1 . He gave Mary herself an opportunity of refuting and expos-
ing him, if she had chosen to lay hold of it.
12. The letters tally so well with all the other parts of her con-
duct, during that transaction, that these proofs throw the strongest
light on each other.
13. The Duke of Norfolk, who had examined these papers, and
who favoured so much the Queen of Scots that he intended to marry
her, and in the end lost his life in her cause, yet believed them au-
thentic, and was fully convinced of her guilt. This appears not
only from his letters above-mentioned to Queen Elizabeth and her
ministers, but by his secret acknowledgment to Bannister, his most
trusty confidant. See State Trials, vol. I. p. 81. In the conferences
between the Duke, Secretary Lidington, and the Bishop of Ross,
all of them zealous partisans of that Princess, the same thing is al-
ways taken for granted. Ibid. p. 74, 75. See farther MS. in the
Advocates' Library, A. 3. 28. p. 314, from Cott. Lib. Callig. c. 9. In-
deed the Duke's full persuasion of Mary's guilt, without the least
doubt or hesitation, could not have had place, if he had found Lid-
ington or the Bishop of Ross of a different opinion, or if they had
ever told him that these letters were forged. It is to be remarked,
that Lidington, being one of the accomplices, knew the whole bot-
tom of the conspiracy against King Henry, and was, besides, a man
of such penetration, that nothing could escape him in such interest-
ing events.
14. I need not repeat the presumption drawn from Mary's refu-
sal to answer. The only excuse for her silence is, that she sus-
pected Elizabeth to be a partial judge : it was not indeed the inte-
rest of that Princess to acquit and justify her rival and competitor ;
and we accordingly find that Lidington, from the secret information
of the Duke of Norfolk, informed Mary by the Bishop of Ross, that
the Queen of England never meant to come to a decision ; but only
to get into her hands the proofs of Mary's guilt, in order to blast her
character. See State Trials, vol. ] . p. 77- But this was a better
reason for declining the conference altogether, than for breaking it
off on frivolous pretences, the very moment'the chief accusation was
unexpectedly opened against her. Though she could not expect
Elizabeth's final decision in her favour, it was of importance to give
a satisfactory answer, if she had any, to the accusation of the Scotch
commissioners. That answer could have been dispersed for the sa-
tisfaction of the public, of foreign nations, and of posterity. And
surely, after the accusation and proofs were in Queen Elizabeth's
hands, it could do no harm to give in the answers, Mary's infor-
mation, that the Queen never intended to come to a decision, could
be no obstacle to her justification.
15. The very disappearance of these letters is a presumption of
their authenticity. That event can be accounted for no way but
336 LOVE LETTERS OF [hume.
from the care of King- James's friends, who were desirous to destroy
every proof of his mother's crimes. The disappearance of Morton's
narrative, and of Crawford's evidence, from the Cotton Library, Calig.
c. 1, must have proceeded from the like cause. See MS. in the
Advocates' Library, A. 3. 29. p. 88.
I find an objection made to the authenticity of the letters, drawn
from the vote of the Scotch privy-council, which affirms the letters
to be written and subscribed by Queen Mary's own hand ; whereas
the copies given in to the parliament a few days after, were only
written, not subscribed. See Goodall, vol. 2. p. 64. 67- But it is
not considered that this circumstance is of no manner of force ; there
were certainly letters, true or false, laid before the council ; and
whether the letters were true or false, this mistake proceeds equally
from the inaccuracy or blunder of the clerk. The mistake may be
accounted for ; the letters were only written by her ; the second con*
tract with Bothwell was only subscribed. A proper accurate distinc-
tion was not made ; and they are all said to be written and subscribed.
A late writer, Mr. Goodall, has endeavoured to prove that these let-
ters clash with chronology, and that the Queen was not in the places
mentioned in the letters on the days there assigned. To confirm this,
he produces charters and other deeds signed by the Queen, where
the date and place do not agree with the letters. But it is well
known that the date of charters, and such-like grants, is no proof of
the real day on which they were signed by the sovereign. Papers
of that kind commonly passed through different offices : the date is
affixed by the first office, and may precede very long the day of the
signature.
The account given by Morton of the manner in which the pa-
pers came into his hands, is very natural. When he gave it to
the FEnglish ^commissioners, he had reason to think it would be
canvassed with all the severity of able adversaries, interested in the
highest degree to refute it. it is probable that he could have con-
firmed it by many circumstances and testimonies, since they de-
clined the contest.
The sonnets are inelegant; insomuch that both Brantome and
Ronsard, who knew Queen Mary's style, were assured, when they
saw them, that they could not be of her composition. Jebb. vol. 2.
p. 4/8. But no person is equal in his productions, [especially one
whose style is so little formed as Mary's must be supposed to be.
Not to mention that such dangerous and criminal enterprises leave
little tranquillity of mind for elegant poetical compositions.
In a word, Queen Mary might easily have conducted the whole
conspiracy against her husband, without opening her mind to any
one person except Bothwell, and without writing a scrap of paper
about it ; but it was very difficult to have it conducted so that her
conduct should not betray her to men of discernment. In the pre-
sent case her conduct was so gross as to betray her to every body ;
and fortune threw into her enemies' hands papers by which they
could convict her. The same infatuation and imprudence, which
happily is the usual attendant of great crimes, will account for both.
It is proper to observe, that there is not one circumstance of the fore-
going narrative, contained in the history, that is taken from Knox,
Buchanan, or even Thuanus, or indeed from any suspected authority.
A LETTER
FROM MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS TO ELIZABETH QUEEN OF ENGLAND,
FROM THE HOUSE OF LORD SHREWSBURY, AT SHEFFIELD,
WHERE SHE HAD LONG BEEN A PRISONER.
I. According to what I have promised you and you have de-
sired, I declare to you now, that with regret that such things have
been brought into question, but very sincerely and without any pas-
sion, for which I appeal to my God as witness, that the Countess of
Shrewsbury told me what follows concerning you, pretty nearly in
these terms : to the most part of which I protest to have replied,
reprehending the said lady for believing or talking so freely of you ;
as matter, that I did not believe, and do not believe at present,
knowing the nature of the Countess, and with what spirit she was
then egged on against you.
II. First, that one, to whom she said you had made a promise
of marriage before a lady of your bed-chamber, had lain down in-
finite times with you, with all the freedom and familiarity that can
be used betwixt a husband and wife ; but that undoubtedly you
was not as all other women are, and for this reason it was folly in all
those who favoured your marriage with Monsieur the Duke of Anjou,
because it could never be consummated ; and that you would not
ever give up the liberty of bespeaking love, and of having your
pleasure continually with new lovers ; regretting this, said she, that
you would not be content with Master Haton, and one other of this
realm; but that, for the honour of the country, she was most
grieved, that you not only had pawned your honour with a stranger
of the name of Simier, going to find him by night in the chamber of
a lady, whom the said Countess blamed greatly for this business,
where you kissed him, and used divers dishonest familiarities with
him, but also revealed the secrets of the realm to him, betraying to
him your own counsellors.
III. That you behaved with the same dissoluteness towards the
Duke his master, who had been to find you one night at the door of
your bed-chamber, where you met him with only your shift and
bed-gown on ; and that afterwards you suffered him to enter, and
that he stayed with you nearly three hours.
IV. As to the said Haton, that you ran him down by violence,
making the love which you bore him appear so public, that he him-
self was constrained to retire from you ; and that you gave Kiligreu
2 LETTER FROM MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS
a box on the ear, because he had not brought back the said Haton,
whom you had sent him to recall, and who had departed from you
in wrath, for some reproaches which you had uttered to him, on
account of certain buttons of gold which he had upon his clothes.
V. That she had laboured to make a match between the said
Haton and the late Countess of Lenox her daughter ; but, for fear
of you, durst not enterprize it ; that even the Earl of Oxford durst
not re-accord with his wife, for fear of losing the favour which he
hoped to receive by making love to you.
VI. That you was profuse to all such persons, and those who
meddled with such practices ; as to one Gorge, of your bed-cham-
ber, to whom you had given three hundred pounds in rents, because
he had brought you the news of Haton's return ; that to all others
you was very ungrateful and niggardly ; and that there were but
three or four persons in the realm to whom you had ever been
bountiful.
VII. Counselling me, while she laughed extremely, to enter my
son in the lists for making love to you; as a matter that would
greatly serve me, and would dislodge Monsieur the Duke from his
quarters, who would prove very prejudicial to me if he continued
there : and on my replying that this would be taken for an absolute
mockery, she answered me, that you was as vain, and had as good
an opinion of your beauty, as if you were some goddess of the sky ;
that she would take it upon her life, she could easily make you be-
lieve it, and you would receive my son in this light.
VIII. That you took so great a pleasure in flatteries beyond all
reason, that it had been said to you expressly, that there was no
venturing at times to look full upon you, because your face shone
like the sun ; that she, and other ladies of the court, were constrained
to use tiiis language ; and that, in her last journey to you, she and
the late Countess of Lenox, while she was speaking to you, durst
not look the one towards the other, for fear of bursting out into a
laugh, at the flams which she was putting upon you ; praying me
at her return to rebuke her daughter, whom she could not ever per-
suade to do the same ; and, as to her daughter Talbot, she was
sure she could not ever refrain from laughing in your face.
IX. The said lady, Talbot, when she went to perform the reve-
rence, and to take the oath to you, as one of your servants, imme-
diately on her return relating the act to me [Mary], as an act done
in mockery, begged me to accept the like, but more felt and full
towards me, which I refused a long time ; but at last, constrained
by her tears, I suffered her to do it ; she saying, that she would
not, for any thing in the world, be in your service, near your person,
because she should be in fear, that when vou was in wrath, you
TO ELIZABETH QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 3
would do to her as you did to her cousin Skedmur, one of whose
fingers you broke, and made those of the court believe that it was
broken by a chandelier falling down from above ; and that you gave
another lady, as she was waiting upon you at table, a great blow
with a knife upon the hand.
X. And, in a word, because of these last points, and common
petty reports, you may believe that you was acted and represented by
my women, as in a comedy among themselves ; and, finding it out, I
swear to you, that I forbad my women from meddling in such work
any more.
XI. Further, the said Countess at another time apprized me,
that you would fain have appointed Rolson to make love to me, and
try to dishonour me, either in fact, or by evil report ; for which he
had instructions from your own mouth : that Ruxby came here about
eight years ago, to make an attempt upon my life : having talked
with you yourself, who had told him that it was the business to
which Walsingham would recommend and direct him.
XII. When the said Countess prosecuted the marrriage of her
son Charles with one of the nieces of my Lord Paget, and when you,
on the other hand, wanted to have her, by pure and absolute authori-
ty, for one of the Knoles, because he was your relation, she exclaimed
against you, and said that it was an actual tyranny, in wanting to
carry off at your fancy all the heiresses in the land ; and that you
had used the said Paget with indignity, by abusive words ; but that
at last the nobles of this realm would not suffer this from you, if you
addressed yourself to some other ladies, whom she knew well.
XIII. About four or five years ago, when you was sick, and I
also at the same time, she says to me, that your sickness proceeded
from the closing up of an ulcer, which you had in one leg ; and that
without doubt, as you was coming to lose your menses, you would
die soon ; pleasing herself upon it, in a vain imagination which she
has had a long time, from the prophecies of one called John Lenton,
and of an old book, that foretold your death by violence, and the
succeeding of another queen, whom she interpreted to be me ; re-
gretting only, that by the said book it was foretold, that the queen
who must succeed you should reign only three years, and should die
like you by violence, which was represented even in painting, upon
the said book, of which there was a concluding leaf, containing
something which she never chose to tell me. She knows herself,
that I [Mary] always took this for pure folly ; but she did lay her
account well, to be the principal lady with me, and also that my son
should marry my niece Arbela.
XIV. At the close, I swear again all at once upon my faith and
honour, that what is above is very true ; and that such of it as con-
4 LETTER FROM MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
cerns your honour, has never fallen from me with a design to give
you pain by revealing it ; and that it shall never be known from
me, who consider it as very false. If I can have that happiness to
speak with you, I will tell you more particularly the names, times,
places, and other circumstances to make you understand the truth,
both of these things, and of others, which I reserve till I shall be
wholly assured of your friendship, which as I desire more than ever
so, if I can obtain it this time, you shall not have a relation, friend,
or even subject, more faithful and affectionate than I shall be to you.
For God's rest assured of her, who is willing and able to obey
you.
From my bed, forcing my arms and pains to serve you,
MARY REGINA.
Sheffield, April, 1584.
APPENDIX,
CONTAINING SOME OF
THE PUBLIC DOCUIWENTS
RELATING TO
THE LETTERS OF MARY.
THE CURIOUS READER MAY REPER TO THE COTTON LIBRARY,
STATE PAPER OFFICE, MURDIN, SIR RALPH SADLER, AND
GOODALL, FOR THE WHOLE OF THE DOCUMENTS
CONNECTED WITH THE COMMISSION.
THE NAMES OF THE COMMISSIONERS APPOINTED TO DETERMINE
THE QUARREL BETWEEN MARY AND HER SUBJECTS.
The Commissioners of the Queen of England.
Duke of Norfolk.
Earl of Sussex.
Sir Ralph Sadler, Knt.
At Hampton-Court the whole Council were added to the party. — H. C.
The Names of the Commissioners for the Queen of Scots.
The Bishoppe of Ross.
The Lord Boyde.
The Lord Levingston.
The Lord Herys.
The Abbot of Kylwinning.
Sir John Gordon of Lochinvar, Knt.
Sir James Cockburn of Skirling, Knt. — Examinator.
The Names of the Commissioners on the part of the. Prince,
The Earle of Murray.
The Earle of Morton.
The Bishoppe of Orknay.
The Lord Lyndesay.
The Abbot of Dumfermeline.
The Names of the Assistants
The Laird of Lethington.
James Macgill.
Henry Balnavys.
The Laird of Lochlevin.
Mr. George Boqwhannan,
Mr. David Lyndesay.
APPENDIX.— No. I.
INSTRUCTIONS BY QUEEN ELIZABETH TO HER COMMISSIONERS,
INTITULED,
A memorial for the order in proceeding- of the Duke of Norfolk,
the Erie of Sussex, and Sir Ralph Sadler, the Queen's Majestie's
commissioners, appointed and authorised by her Majestie's com-
mission to meet at the city of York, with such of the nobility of
Scotland, as shall be authorised from the Queen of Scots on the
one part, and with such of others of the nobility of the same
realme, as shall be appointed for, and in the name of the Prince
the said Quene's son, entitled also King of Scots, on the other.
I. The said commissioners shall notify to the Queen of Scots, or
to her commissioners, the tenor of their commission, and shall re-
quire the sight of the said Queen's commission, and thereupon offer
themselves ready to do all good offices for the honor and wealle of
the said Quene, according to their commission, and as they are spe-
cially charged by the Quene's Majestie in that behalfe.
II. They shall also signify to the Erie of Murray, or to such as
shall come in the name of the Prince, the cause of their coming,
and require the sight of their commission, and so shall use expedi-
tion for their meeting in some convenient place ; and shall first de-
vise, by some special order, that neither of the two parties, nor any
of their traines, shall move any trouble against other by speche,
countenance, or act, directly or indirectly, during the time of this
treaty. For which purpose it may be well done to cause a certificate
to be made to them of the numbers and special names of the persons
of either part, so as by order they may be favourably used in the
said city, and that no other disorderly persons of Scotland, or other
strangers, under colour of this assembly, shall have resort to the
said city.
III. They shall fyrst heare the requests or complaints of the
Quene of Scots, commissioners apart by themselves, and require
8 APPENDIX.
them to have them put in writing briefly, and therewith they shall
also apart charge the other party as earnestly, as the cause shall re-
quire, and shall demand their answers, not only in speche, but also
in writing.
IV. They shall declare to both the parties, how her Majesty hath
expressly charged them, in conference with them about this charge,
that they should in all their actions regard their duties to Almighty
God, and in no wise to furder any thing, otherwise than their con-
sciences should bear witness in the presence of God, to be honest,
just, reasonable and true : For so hir Majesty expresly said to them
with great earnestness, that her intention in this action was ground-
ed upon a sound conscience in the sight of God ; and as she had
conceived the same in the fear of God, so she committed the same
charge to them, hoping that they would discharge the trust reposed
in them, and wished the like to be found in the parties with whom
they should treat at this tyme ; and that both they hir commissioners,
and all the rest, wold, before they entred into this action, take a cor-
poral oath to advance and furder nothing, but that which in their
consciences they shall think to be true, honest, reasonable and just.
And to that end the commissioners may move both parties, as they
shall find their dispositions, to receive a solemn oath, and proceed
accordingly upon the foundation of the fear of God, which is the
beginning of all wisdom.
V. As soon as tyme shall serve convenient to treat with both par-
ties together, how to come to some reasonable end, these, and such
like things hereafter following, are to be well considered :
1. If the Erie of Murray and his partie shall alledge, that although
they can justly convince the Quene of the great crimes wherewith
she hath been burdened, yet they find it not expedient so to do,
upon the doubt they have that the Quene' s Majestie will, notwith-
standing any crime proved upon her, restore her to her kingdom
and rule, whereupon they should never be free from her indigna-
tion; and so they will stay and not proceed, without they may know
her Majestie's purpose, in case the said Quene should be proved
guilty of her husband's murder.
It may be answered by the Quene's Majestie's commissioners,
That indeed her Majestie's desire had been alwise from the begin-
ning, that the said Quene might be found free, specially from the
cryme of her husband's murder. Nevertheless, if her Majestie shall
find it to be plainly and manifestly proved, (whereof she would be
very sorry) that the said Quene of Scotts was the deviser and pro-
curer of that murder, or otherwise was guilty thereof, surely her
Majestie would think her unworthy of a kingdom, and wold not
stayne her own conscience in mayntainance of such a detestable
APPENDIX. i)
wickedness, by restoring- her to a kingdom. But if it shall not be
proved probably and apparently, that she was guilty of her hus-
band's death; yet, because the suspicions and conjectures to be
produced against her, may seem nearly to touch her in misgovern-
ment of herself, and that sundry other her apparent actions, as well
in the marriage of Bothwell, and maintenance of him in his noto-
rious tyranny, as in other things, may seme to deminish and abase
her princely estate and reputation of a Quene and governor of a
realme ; the Quene's Majestie, meaning to have some good end of
all these troubles, as thairby peace and tranquillity might be reco-
vered and continue in that realme, and that reasonable consideration
might be had of the princely state, whereunto she was born, from
the which she never departed, but, for fear of her life, wold have it
considered by them, being subjects borne of that realme, in what
sort and in what manner she might be restored to her crown, with-
out danger of her relapse into the like defaults, and without any like
civil dissentions to follow as of late hath happened.
And the said commissioners having thus answered, and declared
her Majestie's plain manner and intention, shall say, they must needs
leave it to the choyce of them, being principal parties hereto, what
they will do therin. Whereupon if they shall be content, and pro-
cede to charge her as guilty of her husband's death, and shall pro-
duce matter manifestly probable to convince her thereof, then the
commissioners shall spedily advertise her Majestie.
But if they shall, notwithstanding the commissioners foresaid
answer, either forbeare to charge her, or shall shew no sufficient
matter to convince her of the murder of her husband, then, accord-
ing to the answer aforemaid, it must be required of them to consider
in what sort the said Quene may be restored to her crown, according
to her estate, without danger of a relapse to fall into misgovernment,
or without the danger of her subjects to fall into her displeasure
without their just desert. And though there may be many ways to
be thought of not unmete, yet before any devise shall be touched by
her Majestie's commissioners, they of the other party shall first be
induced to propound their devises, which, because they are likely
to be for the advantage and surety of themselves, and prejudicial
and very dishonourable for the Quene of Scotts, the Quene's Ma-
jestie's commissioners shall, by conference with them, labour to
induce them to some indifferent means, and do their uttermost that
both the parties may, upon conferences together, accord to have her
restored to her kingdom, with such conditions as thereby she may
be restrained from misgovernment and disorder of hir realme. And
herein good foresight wold be had, that the same may come and
procede from the other parties, either of the one side or the other,
b
10 APPENDIX.
and not from her Majestie's commissioners, who may well say, that
it properly belongeth to themselves, to propound and devise the
manner how their own country shall be governed. Whereupon the
Quene's Majestie's commissioners shall offer all indeferency to furder
such means as shall seme reasonable for both parties. And because
her Majestie's commissioners may be also instructed what may seme
to her Majestie reasonable in this case, her Majestie would have
them understand certen things hereafter following, which they shall
take rather for instruction, to judge thereby the reasonableness of
the things propounded, either by the Scottish Quene's commis-
sioners, or by the others, than directly to propound any of them as
things devised or desired by her Majestie. And as tilings shall be
propounded on the one party, tending for their advantage, so the
same may be notifyed to the other, and by conference so ordered, as
the articles and devises that shall tend to abridge the Quene's autho-
rity, may plainly appear to come of themselves, and not of her Ma-
jestie's commissioners.
First, It semeth very mete, that this treaty shuld be tripartite ;
that is, betwixt the Quene's Majestie of England on the one party,
as principall author and mediator of the same, and the Quene of
Scotts on the second, and the Prince hir son on the third. And that
the whole accord may be also speedily confirmed by act of parlia-
ment in Scotland ; whereby both the Queue of Scotts and her sub-
jects may be injustice bound to observe the same ; and the Quene
of England, by her great seale of England, to mayntene the same.
And that also from the end of the treaty, until some convenient time
to follow the end of the same parliament, there might remaine three
or four good hostages of either part in England, for the more orderly
holding of the parliament, and better observation of the treaty. And
hereunto may well be added to be thought of, that the said parlia-
ment might be kept and ended before the Queen of Scotts return to
her contrey.
I. The first article in this accord wold be in this manner or such
like : That all things, (saving only the murder of the King) which
have been attempted by the Quene, or any of her party against
them, which took the part of her son the Prince as their King : And
all things on the said Prince's part, and them which avowed their
actions in his name as King, from the death of the Quene's husband,
shuld be committed, after this treaty ended, to a perpetual oblivion ;
and that no action, damage, offence, calumniations or reproach,
shuld, at any time to come, be used or extended any manner of wise,
be one against the other, upon some great paines.
II. It is most necessary to be provided, that by the said Quene
of Scotts own princely motion, upon good perswasion to be made
APPENDIX. U
to her in that behalfe, it may be accorded, That the realme of Scot-
land may be governed under her as Quene of the realme, by a
grand councell of a convenient number, to be now chosen and sta-
blished at the tyme of this treaty, of the noble and wise men of birth
of that realme, and the same to be alwise renewed by the more part,
or two third parts of the said councell, when any of the persons of
the said councell shall depart, or become impotent to serve. For
otherwise the quiet of the Quene herself, and the realme also, by
private government, shall be easily broken, and the whole fruit of this
treaty, and the Quene's Majestie's labours, utterly frustrate. In which
matter also is to be remembred, in what sort the principall officers
of the realme shall be appointed, being at the Quene's disposition,
as ambassadors and messengers to and from forrayn Princes, the
Chancellor, the Archbishops, Bishops, the Lord Justice, the Con-
troller, the Treasurer, the Admiral, the Chamberlain, the President
and Lords of Session, the Captains of castles, the Sheriffs, the Pro-
vosts of burghs, the Wardens of the marches, and all officers of
finances, and such like, as may be for the good observation of this
treaty.
III. It is to be remembred, that the Quene, in respect of her un-
descrete marriage with Bothwell, may accord not to marry, nor con-
tract marriage with any person, without the assent of her thre
estates, or the more part thereof, upon payne that the person with
whom she shall contract, and all others counselling or furdering the
same, shall be, ipso facto, adjudged as traitors, and shall suffer death
and forfit, as in cases of treason.
IV. That all good means be devised and accorded how to pro-
cede severely against the said Bothwell, and all other subjects or
servants to the crown of Scotland, for the murder of the said King,
or for maintainance and comfort of the said murderers, and their
lands confiscated to the crown of Scotland, with a clause, never to
be granted away from the crown, without assent of parliament.
V. That all laws and orders accorded upon by parliament, as
well before the Quene's imprisonment as since, for the hclpe and
sustentation of the Ministers of the Church, and for the advance-
ment of true religion, and abrogating of idolatry and super-
stition, may remayne in full force, and continew without repealing
of the same, otherwise than by a sufficient parliament.
VI. In particular also, it is meet to be remembred, that no
stranger born be entertained in that realme in the room of a captain
or of a soldier : nor that any stranger born have any office spiritual
or temporal within the realme ; nor that any pension be granted to
any stranger out of any office spiritual or temporal ; nor that any
person bear any office within that realme, which openly by any act
12 APPENDIX.
hereafter shall hereafter avow that the Bishop of Rome ought to
take any other preheminence within that realme, than such as the
King or Quene of that realme and their successors, with the consent
of the thre estates in parliament, shall allow.
VII. It is also very necessary to provide for the safety of the life
of the young Prince, considering all such as shall live in Scotland
having been indeed privy to the murder of his father, though not
thereof convinced, shall and may be suspected, that they will de-
sire the death of the Prince, fearing his avenge when he shall come
to age. And in this behalfe it is to be well considered, in what
place, and with what person he shall remayne, and with what al-
lowance of the revenue of the crowne he shall be maintained ; and
if it may be indirectly procured to come of the Quene of Scotts
herself, it seemeth good and safe for all parties, that the Prince
might he brought and nourished in England, in the charge and
custody of persons of the birth of Scotland.
VIII. It were also meet, that the titles and challenges of the
crown heretofore made, as well by one party as another, were made
perfectly clear and certainly established, thereby to take away fac-
tions amongst the subjects.
IX. It may be reasonably required of the Erie of Murray and
others, that, considering the many difficulties that may arise upon
the understanding of this treaty, and specially in choice of the great
officers of the realme, by reason of many competitors amongst the
nobility, that it may be at the request of the whole nobility of Scot-
land, and with the good consent of the Quene of Scotts accorded,
that the Quene's Majesty of England may have power to be as
umpire and principal arbiter, to determine upon all contraversies
arysing upon this treaty, and specially in choice of any such officer,
so as her Majestie make no other interpretation, nor name none to
any office, but such as shall be adjudged or named by the Quene
herself, or by one-third part of the grand counsell of the realme for
the tyme being : and that whosoever shall intromit himself to do
any thing therein contrary, and without the judgment of the Quene's
Majestie of England, as above is limited, shall be judged as a per-
turbator of the common tranquilitie of that realme, and shall be
incapable of any manner of office for ever, or otherwise punished
with some sharp paine ; and that it shall be leefull for any of the
nobility or subjects of Scotland, being grieved or injured with any
thing committed against this treaty, to resort to the Quene's Ma-
jestie of England, to make reasonable complaint, without any im-
pediment of the Quene of Scotts, or any other ; and that for so
doing they shall incur no forfeiture of life, lands, or goods, nor be
any wise damaged in their body.
APPENDIX. 13
X. It is also necessary, for the more assurance of the observation
of this treaty in the behalf of the subjects of Scotland, to be ac-
corded, that if the Quene of Scotts shall willingly break, or permit
to be broken, any part of this treaty concerning the surety of any
of hir subjects, which have, since the death of hir husband, and
before the present treaty, holden part against her, and that such her
breaking, or permission of the breaking, be fyrst notifyed to the
Quene of Scotts, and adjudged by the Quene of England against
the Quene of Scotts, having- thereto the assent of the third part of
the grand councell aforementioned, or of six Lords of parliament
of Scotland, being not parties against the said Quene at the time of
this treaty, or their heyres succeeding them in their estates, being
above the age of twenty-one. In those cases, without such refor-
mation made by the Quene of Scotts, as to the said Quene of Eng-
land, and the said third part of the said councell, or the said num-
ber of six Lords of Scotland aforesaid, shall seem meet, and be
assigned and notified to the said Quene.
It shall be leefull, immediately upon publique knowledge gyven
by the Quene of England, by open proclamation in the towns of
Berwick and Carlisle, conteyning the particular brecli of the treaty,
and the manifest refusal of the reformation, for the Prince of Scot-
land, her son, or any of the nobility of Scotland for him, whilst
he shall be under the age of fourteen, (if he, the Prince, be then
living) ; and if he shall be dead, then for the next heyre to that
crown, to enter into the real possession of the said crown and king-
dom, and every part thereof, in like manner as the said Quene were
departed from this life ; and the said Quene shall, by virtue of this
treaty, forbear to hold the said state or title, as Quene of that
realme, and shall not enjoy any thing of the said realme, otherwise
than such provision of the yerely revenue of the said crown, as
heretofore hath been allowed at any time to any wife of a King of
Scotts for a dowry, if she so will accept and obey the foresaid judg-
ment of the Quene of England, being made with the assent of the
said third part of the said counsell, or of the said six Lords of Scot-
land, or their heyres being of the age of twenty-one. And whoso-
ever shall attempt any thing contrary to the said Prince, or the next
heyre to the crown, fayling the Prince, after his or their entry or
clayme of the said crown, shall be ipso facto taken and used to all
intents, as a traytor adjudged and condemned.
U APPENDIX.
CERTEN OTHER THINGS NECESSARY TO BE REMEMBRED IN THIS
TREATY, FOR THE BEHALFE OF THE QUENE's MAJESTIE AND
HER REALM E.
Inprimis, that the treaty made at Edinburgh in July, Anno Dom.
1560, may he ratifyed and confirmed. In the treating whereof, if
objection be made, that there are certain clauses in the said treaty,
as namely in the fifth article, which do bring great prejudice to the
Quene of Scotts, in that it is accorded, that she shuld, from the
time of that treaty, forbear to use the stile, title, or armories of
England, whereby it may be indirectly gathered, that she shall be
excluded, not only during the life of the Quene's Majestie, and of
the lifes of the heyres of her Majestie's body, (which indeed was
expressely ment on both parts at the time of the treaty) but also
after the determination of the lifes of the Quene's Majestie (which
God long preserve), and also of the heyres of her body, of which
cause at the time of the treaty no mention was made ; therefore now
at this treaty, after the said confirmation to be made of the said
treaty made at Edenburgh, there may be a proviso thereto now of
new devised, that no part of the said treaty made at Edenburgh
shall bind the said Quene of Scotts, or her children, after the de-
termination of the life of the Quene's Majestie (which God long
preserve), and the heyres of her body.
II. It wold be also required, if it may be reasonably obteyned,
that a league shuld be made at this tyme betwixt the Quenes of Eng-
land and Scotland for themselves, their realmes and subjects ; that
either of the realmes shuld ayd the other, in case that any other
prince should fyrst invade them, or any parcel of them, without
notorious cause gyven by open wars to the invador ; wherein if any
difficulty be made, because of the old league of France and Scot-
land, first, there may be much said, and cannot be denied, of the
commissioners of Scotland, to prove that Scotland hath these many
hundred years taken more harm than good by that treaty.
And secondly, Tho' the treaty with France shall be thought per-
case not meet to be utterly dissolved, yet in this particular sort to
contract, as is expressed in this article, may be said, is not against
the true intent of the league of France ; for by that treaty the Kings
of Scotland are bound to ayde France, if England shuld move war
against France, but not if France shall fyrst move war against
England.
III. As it is well covenanted by ancient leagues betwixt England
APPENDIX. 15
and Scotland, that neither of them shuld receave or ayde any rebel!
as fugitive of the other ; so the like accord would be made at this
tyme for Ireland and Scotland.
IV. It wold be also accorded, that if the Quene of Scotts, during
her life, shall ayde, or willingly permit any of hers to ayde any prince
or potentate, to invade, by hostility, the realmes of England or
Ireland, or any isles, or members of any of the said kingdoms, that
thereupon immediately the said Quene shall forfeit and loose all
manner of title or challenge that she hath, or any wise can pretend,
to be inheritable to the crown of England or Ireland.
V. It were necessary that the contraversy yerely arising, by occa-
sion of certen grounds upon the frontiers in the east marches, com-
monly called the threap-land, or debatable, were determined by
judgment, that such of that which is to be proved not litigious,
may be so established in the quiet possession of them that have right ;
and the rest that is litigious and doubtful, to be equally divided by
metts and bounds, as the debatable was in the west borders in the
time of King Edward the Vlth.
VI. If the Quene of Scotts shall send any message or letter to the
commissioners, they shall hear it ; and if the same shall require any
answer, they shall gyve or write such answer as to their discretions
shall seem meet, being not repugnant to these -instructions, and of
their doings shall advertise her Majestic
A LETTER FROM THE DUKE OF NORFOLK TO SIR WILLIAM CECILL,
FROM YORK, THE 15TH OF OCTOBER, 1568.
Paper-Office. — An original in the Duke's hand.
We have lytle of news to wrytte unto you, but remayne expectyng
letters from her Majestie, tyll the recepte wheroff we knowe not
wyche waye to prosede. Thys cawse ys the huirtfullyst and dan-
geroust that ever I lette in. Yf you sawe and harde the constante
afFyrmyng of bothe sydis, not withowte great stowtnes, you wolde
wonder. 1 fynd by sume speches cast owte by thys Quenis com-
myssioners, that yf in the ende sche be dryvene to her tryall, sche
wyll desyer that sche maye be present in person, a thyng that in my
opynyon hathe neade of good consyderacyon. You schall fynde in
the ende, that as there be sume fewe in thys compan)^e that mynde
playnlye and trulye, so ther be others that seke hollye to sarve ther
16 APPENDIX.
owne partycular turnes, the wyche beyng done, they care not what
becumes nether of Quene nor Kynge. And this good Mr. Secre-
tarye, beyng- more weryyd Avith the inconstaneys of thes mene's
doyngs, than with enye other travel, I bede you most hartelye fare-
well. From Yorke, this 15th of October, 1568.
Yours most beholdyng,
T.NORFOLKE.
P. S. The Quene of Scottes, in respect of herselfe, I thynke,
hath better frynds of the Regent's side than of here owne.
A LETTER TO QUEEN ELIZABETH, FROM HER COMMISSIONERS
AT YORKE, THE IItH OF OCTOBER, 1568.
An Original. — Cotton. Lib. cal. c. i. fol. 198.
Please it your most excellent Majestie to understand, that sithens
our last despeches, the Erie of Murray and his colleagues, to oc-
cupie the time, have put in their answeare to the complaynts exhi-
bited by their adverse partie, the copie of which answeare we send
herewith to your Majestie. And albeit they have in the same
touched nothing plainlie in the cause of the murder, whereupon
they staye and suspend thair proceadings, untill they may be re-
solved in their articles proponed unto us, which we sent in our last
letters to your Majestie, yet the said Erie hath been content privatlie
to shew us such matteir as they have to condempne the Queue of
Scottes of the murder of her husband, to the intent they woldeknow
of us, how your Majestie, understanding the same, wolde judge of
the sufficiencie of the matter; and whether, in your Majestie's opi-
nion, the same will extend to condempne the Quene of Scottes of the
said murder.
And so they sent unto us the Lord of Lethingtoun, James Mak-
gill, and Mr. George Boqwannan, and an other being a Lord of the
Session, which in private and secret conference with us, not as com-
myssioners, as they protested, but for our better instruction, after
declaration of such circumstances as led and induced to vehement
presumptions to judge her giltie of the said murder, shewed unto
us the copie of a bond, bearing date the 19th of Aprill 156/, to the
which the most part of the lords and counsaillors of Scotland have
put to their hands ; and, as they saye, more for feare than any
lyking they had of the same. Which band conteyned two special
points, the one a declaration of BothwelPs purgation of the murder
APPENDIX. 17
of the Lord Darnley, and the other a generall consent to his marriage
with the Quene, so far forthe as the lawe and her owne likinge
shoulde allowe. And yet, in proufe that they did it not willinglie,
they procured a warrant, which was now shewed unto us, bearing date
the 19th of A prill, signed with the Quene's hand, whereby she
gave them licence to agree to the same, affirming that before they
had such warrant, there was none of them that did, or wolde set to
their hands, saving onlie the Earl of Huntley.
There was also in the copie of the bande, a copie of a warrant fol-
lowinge much to that effect, savinge that the one did licence to doe,
and the other seemed to discharge and pardone that was done, which
bears date the 14th of Maye. It appeared also, that the selfe-same
daye of the date of this band, being the 19th of Aprill, the Earl of
Huntley was restored by parliament ; which parliament was the oc-
casion that so many lords were there assembled, which being all
invited to a supper by Bothwell, were induced after supper, more
for fear than otherwayes, to subscribe to the said bond, two hun-
dred harkebusiers being in the court, and about the chamber-door
wheare they supped, which weare all at Bothwell's devotione ;
which the said lords so muche misliked, that the next morning, by
four of the clocke, fewe or none of them weare left in the towne, but
departed without taking their leave.
Thear was also a contract shewed unto us, signed with the Quene's
hand, and also with Bothwell's, bearing date the 5th of Aprill,
written, as it is said, with the Earl of Huntley's own hand, who,
with one Thomas Hebourne, weare the only witnesses to the same.
Which contract beareth date before Bothwell's purgation of the
murder, whereof he was not tried nor pourged before the 12th of
Aprill followinge, and also before the processe of divorce began
between Bothwell and his wief, which was not begunne before the
1st of May, and yet with speede ended within eight dayes, and the
ungodlie marriage betweene the Quene and him solempnized theI5th
of May after ; and also the loth of June following, the Quene her-
selfe was taken by her nobilitie. The counterfiete and colourable
taking of the Quene by Bothwell, when he carried her to Dunbar,
was the 24th of Aprill after the death of her husband, who was mur-
dered the 10th of February 1567-
There was also a contract shewed unto us, of the Quene's own
hand, of the marriage to be had betweene her and Bothwell, bearing
no date, which had not verba de pr&senti, as the other had, bearing-
date the 5th of Aprill. It appeared also unto us by two letters of
her owne hand, that it was by hir own practice and consent, that
Bothwell should take her and carry her to Dunbar, of pollicie, as
the Lord of Lethington told us, because else theare could be no de-
IS APPENDIX.
vyse in lawe to pardon his foul fact of the murder, affirming that,
by the lawes of that realme, a pardon for great oifences includeth all
lesser factes and offences, but extendeth to none greater than that
which is pardoned ; and therefore, except he should commit the
highest offence, which is treason, as he did in laying violent hands
upon his soveraigne, no pardon culd serve to excuse him of the
murder ; and having his pardon for the treason, it sufficeth also for
the murder. A fit pollicie for a detestable fact.
After the devise of the murder was determined, as it seemed by
the sequell, they inferred upon a letter of her own hand, that there
was another meane of a more cleanly conveyance devised to kill the
King ; for there was a quarrell made betwixt him and the Lord
Robert of Holie-roode-house, by carrying of false tales betwixte
theme, the Quene being the instrument, as they sayde, to bring it to
pass ; which purpose, if it had taken effect, as it was very likelie,
(for the one geving the lye to the other, they were at daggers draw-
inge) it had eased them of the prosecution of the develish fact,
which, this taking none effect, was afterwards most tirannously
executed.
Aftewards, they shewed unto us one horrible and long letter of
her own hand, as they saye, conteyning foule matteir, and abomina-
ble to be either thought of, or to be written by a prince, with diverse
fond ballades of her own hand ; which letters, ballades, and other
writings before specified, weare closed in a little coffer of silver and
gilte, heretofore geaven by her to Bothwell. The said letters and
ballades do discover such inordinate love betweene her and Both-
well, her loothsomeness and abhorringe of her husband that was mur-
dered, in such sorte as everie good and godlie man can not but de-
test and abhorre the same.
And these men heare do constantlie affirrae the said letters, and
other writings, which they produce of her own hand, to be her own
hand indede ; and do offer to swear and take their oaths thereupon,
the matteir conteyned in them being such, as could hardlie be in-
vented or devised by any other than by her selfe ; for that they dis-
course of some things, which weare unknowen to anie other than to
herself and Bothwell : and as it is hard to counterfiete so manie, so
the matter of them, and the manner how these men came by them is
such as, it seemeth, that God, in whose sight murder and bludshed
of the innocent is abhommable, wolde not permit the same to be hid
or concealed.
In a paper here inclosed we have noted to your Majestie the chiefe
and speciall points of the said letters, written, as they say, with her
own hand, to the intent it may please your Majestie to consider of
them, and so to judge whether the same be sufficient to convince her
APPENDIX. IS
of the detestable crime of the murder of her husband, which, in our
opinions and consciences, if the said letters be written with her own
hand, is verie hard to be avoided. Most humblie beseaching your
Majestie, that it may please the same to advertise us of your opinion
and judgment therein, and to direct us with such spead as to your
Highness shall be thought convenient, how we shall proceade fur-
ther in this great mattier. And so for the more expedition, sending
this blotted letter to your Majestie, ("whereof we crave pardon) we
beseche Almightie God to preserve your most excellent Majestie in
good healthe and long lief, most prosperously to reigne over us.
From your Majestie's citie of York, the xi. of October 1568.
Your Majestie's most humble,
faithful, and obedient subjects,
T. NORFOLKE,
T. SUSSEX,
R. SADLER.
THE ANSWER OF THE EARL OF MURRAY.
The Answer of us James Erie of Murray, Regent of the realme of
Scotland, and remanent Commissionaris appointit for the King's
Majestie of Scotland, our Soverain Lord, in his Hienes behalf,
and for our selfis, and remanent States and pepill, his Majestie's
faithful and obedient subjectis, to the lettre presentit to your
Grace and my Lords Commissionaris for the Quene's Majestie of
England, on the behalf of the Quene moder to our Soverane
Lord,
An Original.— Cott. Jib. cal. e. 1. fol. 202.
It is notour to all men, how umquhile King Henry, father to our
Soverane Lord, was horribly murderit in his bed. James, sumetime
Erle Bothwell, being well knawn for chief author thairof, enterit in
so great credit and authorise with the Quene, then our soverane,
that, within thr6 monethis efter the murther of hir husband, the said
Erie plainlie enterprisit to ravish hir persoun, and leid hir to Dunbar
castell, haldand hir there as captive a certane space, during quhilk
he causit divorce be led betwixt him and his lauchfull wyfe, and
suddanlie, at the end thairof, accomplish a pretendit marriage be-
twix him and the Quene. Quhilk strange and hastie proceding of
that godles and ambicious man, efter murthering of the Quenis
20 APPENDIX.
lmsband, in sic sort, to atteyne to hir awin marriage, the governa-
ment of the realme, and powar over hir sone our Soverane Lordis
persoun, with the ignominy spokin amangis all nations of that mur-
ther, as though all the nobilitie had bene alike culpabill thairof,
sua movit the hartis of a gude nomber of thame, that thay thocht na
thing mair godlie, nor mair honorabill in the sicht of the warld,
than, be punishing of the said Erie, chief author of the murther, to
releive otheris saikleslie calumpniat thairof, to put the Quene to
fredome furth of the bondage of that tyran, that presumptouslie had
enterprisit to revysh and marie hir, quhais lauchfull husband he
could not be, nather she his lauchfull wyfe : and to preserve the
innocent persoun of our native Prince furth of the handis of him
that murtherit his fader. For quhilk purpos taking armis, the said
Erie cume againis us, leading the Quene, then our soverane, in his
company, as a defence and cloik to all his wicketnes, accumpanyit
with a greit force that he had brocht to the feild, with greit ordi-
nance, and wagit men of weir : quhair, to decide the querrel, quhilk
was onlie intentit aganis him and the remanent knawin murtheraris,
without bluidsehed of ony innocent man, it wes offerit, at twa seve-
rall times, be the noblemen seiking the punishment of the murther,
to try the matter with him in singular battell, according to the law
of armis, as he be his cartell of befoir had proclamit. Quhilk being
schiftit, delayit, and in the end uterlie refusit be him, he escapit be
flicht ; and the Quene, preferrand his impunity to hir awin honour,
wald se him conveyit away : and to the end he suld not be folio wit
nor persewit, she come hir self to the noblemen assemblit aganis him,
quhilk convoyit hir to Edinburgh ; and, being thair, informit her
of the verie causis that had drevin thame to that forme of dealing,
humblie requiring that sho wald be content to se the said Erie, and
uthers the King hir husbandis murthereris, punishit, and that pre-
tendit and unlauchfull marriage, quhairin scho was improvisitlie
enterit, to be dissolvit for hir awin honour, the saulgard of hir sone,
and the quietnes of hir realme and subjectis. To quhilk na uther
answere culd be obtenit, bot rigorus minassing, on the ane part
avowand to be revengit on all thame that had schawin thameselfis
in that cause, and on the uther part ofFerand to leif, and gif over, the
realme and all, sua scho might be sufferit to posses the murtherar of
hir husband. Quhilk hir inflexible mynd, and extremitie of neces-
sitie compellit thame to sequestrate hir persoun, for a season, fra
the company, and having intelligence with the said Erie Bothwell,
and uthers his fautouris, quhill further tryal mycht be takin, and
executioun maid for the murther. During the quhilk tyme, sho
finding hir self, be lang irksum and tedious travail takin be hir in
the governament of the realme and lieges thairof, sa vexit and weryit,
APPENDIX. 21
that hir body, sprite, and senses were altogidder unable langer to
occupy that realme ; and persaving*, be thingis that had past before
that tyme betvvixte hir and hir pepill, that nowther sho culd wele
allowe of thair doingis, nor thay like of hir fashiounis ; and for uther
considerations moving hir for the tyme, thairfoir dimittit and re-
nuncit the office of governament of the realme and lieges thairof, in
favouris of hir onlie and maist deir sone the Prince of the samin.
And, becaus of his tender youth and inability to use the said go-
vernament in his awin persoun, during his minoritie, constituted me
the said Erie of Murray (being then absent furth off the realme,
and without my knowledge) Regent to his Grace, the realme, and
lieges ; and quhill my returning, or in caise of my deceise, or not
acceptatioun, maid and constitute divers otheris noblemen, Regentis,
as her several commissiounis to that effect, subscrivit with hir hand,
and under the Privie Seill, beris ; and that voluntarlie, na compul-
sion, violence, nor force usit or practisit to move hir thairto. Ac-
cording to the quhilkhir dimissioun and resignatioun, the King, now
our Soverane Lord, was dewlie, richtly, and orderlie crownit, in-
vestit and possessit in the kingdome : and I the said Erie of Murray
lauchfullie placeit, enterit, and admittit to the said office of regentrie.
Quhilkis coronation of our said Soverane Lord, and acceptatioun of
the said office of regentrie, wer not onlie ressavit, and universallie
obeyit over all the haill realme, as lauchfull and sufficient, evin be
the maist part of thame that, in thir six monethis last bypast, lies
withdrawin thair debtfull obedience fra his Grace's authoritie, and
interprisit to establische and set up ane uther ; but als in a lauch-
full, fre, and plane parliament, quhairat they were present, the same
coronatioun and acceptatioun of the office of Regentrie, wer be
perpetual lawes maid, and publict actis sett furth, decernit to be
lauchfully, sufficiently, and richtuouslie done ; as alswa all uther
thingis intentit, spokin, writtin, or done be thame, or any of thame,
to that effect, sen the tenth day of Februar 156G, upon the quhilk
day the said umquhile King Henry, then the Quenis lauchfull hus-
band, was murtherit, unto the dait of the said act, and in all tyme
to cum, tuiching the said Queue, and deteyning of hir persoun, that
cause, and all thingis depending thairon ; the intromissioun or dis-
ponyng upoun hir propertie, casualities, or quhatsumever thing per-
tening, or that ony wayis micht pertene to hir ; likas at mair lenth is
contenit in the actis, lawis, and constitutionis concludit, maid, and
sett furth in the said parliament. Quhilkis actis and lawis with
our Soverane Lordis authoritie, and the regiment of me the said
Erie of Murray, wer universallie obeyit over all the realme, but
contradictioun ; quhill sum of the nobilitie and utheris, that in the
said parliament be fre votes, and utherwayis be thair hand-writtis,
22 APPENDIX.
had acknawlegit and avancit the Kingis authority, and regiment es-
tablished in his name, impatient to se the puir pepill of the realme
enjoy quietnes and gud dayis, and disdainand to se justice proceid
as it was begun, and liklie to have continewit, to the punisment of
mony offendaris over the haill cuntrie, according to the lawes ; first
practizit to bring the said Quene out of Lochlevin, contrary to the
actis maid in the parliament, and then be open force to destroy and
subvert the publict governament and authoritie of our Soverane
Lord establishit be the Estatis, against thair promissit obedience
and hand-writtis ; and for that purpos procedit in all kynd of hos-
tilitie, quhill on the 13th day of May last bypast, that God respect-
and the equitie of the cause, confoundit thair interprise, and grantit
the victorie to the King and sic as constantlie continewit in his
obedience ; zit sensyne they have perseverit in thair rebellioun,
abstractand their debtfull obedience fra our Soverane Lord and his
auctoritie, practizing all thingis that mycht subvert and overthraw
the samin, in halding of housis, proclayming of uther auctoritie,
cuming to the feildis in weirlike manner with displayit banneris,
taking and impresoning of officiaris of armis and utheris fr6 per-
sonis, raising of impositiouns of burro wis, and, under pretence of
law, summoning housis, banishing and rigorously persewing divers
the Kingis gude subjectis, for na uther cause but onlie the serving
of the King thair native Soverane Lord.
It is thairfore requirit in his Hienes behalf, that he, and his Re-
gent in his Hienes behalf, may peciabillie injoy and governe his
realme, according to God's calling ; and that his Majestie's disobe-
dient subjectis may be causit recognosce thair debtfull obedience,
and quhat the ordour of Justice hes ordainit may ressave full execu-
tioun. Protesting alwayis, that notwithstanding this our answer,
we may eik to the same, as the occasioun sail serve, and as the neid
may require.
JAMES, Regent. MORTOUN.
PATRICK. AD. ORCHAD.
LINDSAY. DUMFERMLING.
APPENDIX. 23
A BRIEF NOTE CP THE CHIEF AND PRINCIPALL POINCTS OF THE
QUENE OF SCOTTES LETTRES WRITTEN TO BOTHAILL, WHICH
MAY TEND TO HER CONDEMPNATION, FOR HER CONSENT AND
PROCUREMENT OF THE MURDER OF HER HUSBAND, AS FARRE
FORTHE AS WE COULDE BY THE READINGE GATHER.
First, the plaine and manifest worcles conteyned in the said
lettres, declaring^ the inordinat and filthie love betwene her and
Bothaili.
Next, the like wordes plainlie declaringe how she hated and ab-
horred her said husband.
Then for the declaration of the conspiracie, and her procurement
and consent to the murder of her said husband, how she toke her
journey from Edenburghe to Glasco, to visite him beinge theare
sicke, and purposely of intent to bringe him with her to Eden-
burghe.
She wrote to Bothaili from Glasco, how she nattered her said
husband, to obtaine her purpose; and that the Earle of Lenox
his father, that daye that she was devisinge to bringe his sonne to
Edenburghe, did blede at the noose and mowthe, willing the said
Bothaili to ghesse what presage it was.
She wrote also, that she was about a worke that she hated greatly,
and that she lied and dissembled to get creadite with her husband,
and to bringe her faschious purpose to passe, confessing herselfe
therein to do the office of a traiteresse, which, were it not to obey
Bothaili, she had lever be dead then do it, for her harte did blede
at it.
Also she wrote that she had wonne her husband to goo with her
to Edenburghe, and to do whatsoever she wolde have him to do,
saying, Alas ! she never deceaved anie before, remittinge herselfe
altogether to the will and pleasure of Bothaili, wherein she wold
obey him, whatsoever come thereof ; requyring him to advise with
himself, if he coulde fynde owt anie other secreat invention by medi-
cine, for her husband was to take medicine, and the Bath also at
Cragmiller.
She biddethe Bothaili to burn the lettre, for it was over dange-
rous to them, and nothinge well said in it, for that she was think-
inge upon nothinge but fascherie, requyringe him that, sithens to
obey him, her dear love, she spared neither honour, conscience,
hazard, nor greatnes whatsoever, he woulde take it in good parte ;
and that he wold not see her, whose fained tears shoulde not be so
muche praised,as the faithefull travailles which she susteynedto merite
24 APPENDIX.
her place, for the obteyninge whereof against her nature, she be-
traied him that might impeche it, prayinge God to forgeave her,
and to geave unto Bothaill, her only love, the happe and prouspe-
ritie which she his humble and faithfull love wishithe unto him ;
hoopinge shortely to be another thinge unto him, for the reward e
of her yrkesome troubles.
Finally, she wrote to Bothaill, that accordinge to her commis-
sion, she wolde bringe the man with her ; prayinge him to worke
wisely, or els the whole burden wolde lye on her shoulders ; and
specially to make good watche, that the bird escaped not owt of the
cage.
EXAMINATUR.
NOTES DRAWIN FURTH OF THE QUENIS LETTERS SENT TO THE
ERLE BOTHWELL.
From the Paper-Office.
Imprimis, after lang discourse of hir conference with the King
hir husband in Glascow, sche wreitis to the said Erie in thir termes :
" This is my first jurnay, I sail end the same the morne: I wreite
in all thingis, hoAvbeit they be of littill weycht, to the end that ye
may tak the best of all to judge upoun. I am doing ane work heir
that I haitte gretlie : Haif ye not desyr to lauche, to sie me lie sa
weill, at the leist to dissemble so weill, and to tell hym the treuth
betwix handis."
Item, Schortlie after : " We are coupled with twae fals racis. The
devill syndere us, and God mot knit us togidder for ever for the
maist faithful cupple that ever he unitit. This is my faith, I will
die in it."
Item, Thairefter, "I am not weill at ease, and zeit verray glaid
to wreit unto you quhen the rest are slepand, sen that I can not
sleip as they do, and as I wald desyir, that is in your armis my deir
luife."
Item, A littill thairefter : " Adverteis me quhat ze haif deliberat
to do in the matter ye knaw upoun this point, to the end we may
understand utheris wele, that nathing thair throw be spilt."
Item, Thus sche concludis the lettre : " Wareit mocht this po-
kishe man be, that causes haif sa meikill pane, for without hym I
wald haif ane far mair plesant subject to discourse upoun. lie is
APPENDIX. 25
not o'er meikle spilt, hot he has gottin verray mekill ; he has almaist
slane me with his braith ; it is war nor your unclis, and zeit I cum
na neirar hot sat in ane cheir at the bed-fute, and he beand at the
utherend thairof."
Item, Thairefter, " Ye gar me dissemble sa far, that I haif horring
thairat, and ze caus me almaist do the office of an trahatores. Re-
member yow, yf it wer not to obey yow, I had raither be deid or I
did it, my heart blidis at it. Summa, He will not cum with me, ex-
cept upoun conditioun that I shall be at bed and bourd with hym as
of befoir, and that I sail leif him na efter."
Item, Schortlie thairefter : " Summa, he will gae upoun my word
to all places. Alace, I never dissavit any bodie, bot I remit me alto-
gidder to your will. Send me advertisement quhat I sail do, and,
quhatsumever sail cum thairof, I sail obey you ; advys to with
yourself, yf ye can fynd out any mair secreit inventioun be medecein
and the baith at Craigmillar."
Item, " Thairefter, I sail draw out all thingis out of hym, gif ye
will that I ad vow all thingis unto hym ; bot I will never rejois to
dissave any bodie that trustis in me ; zet notwithstanding ye may
command me in all thingis. Haif no evill opinioun of me for that
cause, be reason ye ar the occasioun of it your self, because for my
awn particular revenge I wold not do it to hym.
Item, After, " For certaintie he suspectis that thing ye know, and
of his lyif ; bot as to the last, how sone I speak twae or thrie guid
wordis unto hym, he rejois and is out of doubt."
Item, Schortlie thairefter, " all the Hamiltounis are heir with me,
and accompanies me verry honorably."
Item, Thairefter, " Be not offendit, for I gif not our mekill credyt
now, sence, to obey you, my deir luife, I spare nouther honor, con-
science nor gretnes quhatsumever, I pray you tak it in guid part, and
not after the interpretation of your fals guid-brother, to quhom, I pray
you, gif nae credyns agains the maist faythfull luifer that ever ye had,
or ever sail haif. Sie not hir quhais fenzeit tearis suld not be sa mekill
praysit, nor estemyt, as the trew and faythfull travaillis, quhilk I
sustene to merit hir place, for obtening of quhilk, againis my natu-
rall, I betraye thame that may impesche me. God forgive me, and
God gif yow, my onlie luif, the hape and prosperitie that your hum-
ble and faythfull luif desyris unto yow, quha hoipis schortlie to be
ane uther thing unto yow."
Item, In the credit gifin to the berar, quhome we understand was
Pareis, " Remember yow of the purpois of the Ladie Reires
of the ludgene in Edinburt."
Item, In ane uther lettre sent be Betoun : "As to me, howbeit
I heir noe farther newes from yow, according to my commission, I
bring the man with me to Craigmillar upon Mundav, quhair hewill
d
26 APPENDIX.
be all Wednisday. And I will P gang to Edinburt to draw bluid of
me, gif in the mene tyme I get no newes in the contrail* from yow."
Item, Verray schortlie after : " Summa, ye will say he makisthe
court to me, of the quhilk I tak so gret pleseur, that I enter never
quhair he is, bot incontinent I tak the seiknes of my syde, I ame soe
faschit with it. Y f Pareis bring me that quhilk I send hym for, I
treast it sail amend me. I pray yow adverteis me of your newes
at length, and quhatl sail do in caice ye be not returnit quhen I cum
thair, for, in cais ye work not wyselie, I sie that the haill burthin of
this will fall upon my schulderis. Provyde for all thingis, and dis-
course upon it first your self."
Item, In ane uther lettre : " I pray you, according to your promeis,
to discharge your hart to me, utherwayis I will think that my mal-
heure, and the guid composing of thame, that hes not the third part
of the faythfull and willing obedience unto yow that I beyre, has
wyne, againis my will, that advantage over me quhilk the secund
luif of Jason wan ; not that I wolde compaii you to ane sa unhappie
as he was, nor yit myself to ane soe unpetifull a woman as sche ; how-
beit ye cause ma be sumquhat lyck unto hir in ony thing that
twichis yow, or that may preserve and keip yow to hir, to quhome
ye onlie appertein, yf it may be suer that I may appropriat that
quhilk is wonne throuche faythfull, yea only ruining yow, quhilk I
do and sail do all the dayis of my lyif, for pane and evil that can
cum thereof. In recompense of the quhilk, and of all the evills
quhilk ye half bein cause of to me, remember you upon the place
heir besyd, &c."
A LETTER FROM THE DUKE OF NORFOLK DIRECTED TO THE EARL
OF PEMBROKE, LORD STEWARD OF THE QUENE'S MOST HO-
NOURABLE HOUSE, AND TO THE EARL OF LEYCESTRE, AND
WILLIAM CECILL, KNIGHT, PRINCIPAL SECRETARY TO THE
QUENE'S MAJESTIE, FROM YORK, 12TH OF OCTOBER, 1568.
Paper-office. — An original in the Duke's hand.
After my most hartye commendatyons to your good Lordship,
I have forborne all thys whyle to writte ennye thyng unto you, be-
cawse the Quene's Majestye's letters dide ever conteyne as muche as
we cowld wrytte off ower procedynges heare ; and at thys tyme also
we have wrytten in her Hyenes letters what is chancyd off newe.
Marrye, the occasyon of thys my wrytyng unto you at thys tyme,
APPENDIX. 27
ys to putte you in remembrance off your promysys made unto me,
wyche was that you taryyng behynd wold furder us in thys her
Majestie's sarvys, as we in enye reasonable request cowld desyer.
By thes ower too last letters wrytten unto her Majestie, you maye
see we are gone as far as we cane, tyll we receave answere from her
Highnes ageyne ; and for my none parte, I thynke I may assurydlye
saye, that the Regent and ther syde (as by ther warie delyng you
maye perceave) mynde to proceede no furder tyll they maye assure
them selfis, what her Majestye thynkes of thes cawsys, that they have
schewyd us to charge ther Quene withall, what her jugement schall
fall owte therupon, as also After jugement in what leage her Hyenes
(the matter fallyng owte manifestlye) myndes to joyne with ther
Kynge, and them that nowe by ther parlement have the governe-
ment of that realme. Thynk them not my Lords to be to presyse :
Juge them as we wold juge of ower selfis yf we wer in ther cace.
They playe at no small game ; they stand for ther lyves, lands and
goods ; and they are not ygnorant yf they wolde, for yt ys everye
daye told them, that as longe as they absteyne from towchmg ther
Quene's honor, sche wyll make with them what reasonable ende they
can devyse. Yt were pytye that they, for so muche trusty ng to us,
schuld hender ther owne cawse. Ther ys but too wayes to be taken :
the one, yf the facte schall be thowght as destestable and manefeste
to you, as for owght we can perceave yt semethe here to us, that con-
dygne jugement, with open demonstratyon to the nolle world, with
the holle cyrcumstancys, and playne, true, and indyfferent pro-
cedying therin, maye directlye appeare ; of the wyche for ower owen
dyscharge we doe not omytte to kepe good and suftycyent memo-
ryalls, not forgettyng with what manner of person we have to deale,
nor yeat howe the upryght handlyng of thys cawse schall importe
us bothe in honor and honestye to the holle worlde. The other ys,
yf her Majestie schall not alio we of thys, then to make such a com-
posycion as in so broken a cawse may be ; of ether of wyche, for
her Hyenes better sarvys, we desyer to be advertysyd with spede,
havyng nothyng to doe tyll we have full resolutyon from her Ma-
jestie, but to dryve on the tyme by dylatorye plees, as by my Lord
Regent's answere sent unto her Hyenes you maye perceave. Whe-
ther you take the fyrst waye or the last, one thyng wold be present-
lye well wayed and consyderyd amongst you, and theruppon we to
receave your resolutyon : What meanes and wayes you wyll have
usyd for the reconcylyatyon, and compondyng of the dyfferencys
betwyne the Regent and hys partye of the one syde, and the Duke
with the Hameltons of the other, whoes partye I thynk as good as
ther Quene's. And, for myn oune parte, what ende soever you
take, I thynke you schall make but boched work, yf you doe not
sowndlie and perfectlye conclude thowes dyfferencys : He beying
28 APPENDIX.
ther amongst you, you can bettertell what humor for reconcylyatyon
lie ys in, than we heare ; and yeat I feare me, whan you have wrowgt
hyme ther, he must cume hether before enye full conclusyon wyll
be made : As long- as he dremes of a maryage to be hade betwyne
hys sone the Lord of Arbrothe and thys Quene, I thynke you schall
fynde that he wyll harkne to no ende, I fynd so muche by sume
secrete intellygense that I have heare. And thus you may see howe
farre, in friendchype to you as to my assuryit frynds, I wade in thys
most brykle cace ; for hear is no bodye of enye syde, but that for
feare or mystrust, makes courtesye to utter playnlye ther mynds in
that cace, wherein they knowe not the ende. And so for thys tyme,
wyschyng to your Lordships more quyetnes than we yeat can find
heare, assuryng you that ther ys no hope of farder procedyng heare,
withowt her Majestie's resolute determynatyon, I bede you most
hartelye farewell. From Yorke, this 2d of October, 1568.
Your good Lordship's most assuredly,
T. Norfolke.
THE TWELFTH DAYE OF OCTOBER, 1568.
From the Duke of Norfolk's Book of Entries.
This daye the Lord Herries, and the Lord Boyde came to the
Quene's Majestie's commyssioners, only to conferre in talk with
them touching the answere of the Regent and his colleagues, to the
complaint before geaven in by the commyssioners and others for the
Quene of Scottes ; and required respite of their replication, till such
tyme they heard from the Quene their mistress by their next depeche,
for the which cause the next morninge they dispatched the Byshoppe
of Ross, and the Lord Boyde unto her.
This daye beinge the 13th of October, we received lettres from
the Quene's Majestie, beringe date the 10th.
In the afternoone of the same daye the Quene's Majestie's com-
myssioners sent to the commyssioners of the Quene of Scottes, wish-
ing that they wolde, according to the Quene's Majestie's pleasure
in her late letters, procure their commyssion to be enlarged : Where-
unto in the end, after some debaitinge thereupon, the Lord Herries
promysed, that he wolde send to the Quene his mistress for that pur-
pose, the alteration of which commyssion appeareth by their wordes
hereafter following, which weare delivered in writinge to the Lord
Herries.
APPENDIX. 29
THE COPIE OF THE WORDES WHEREIN THE QUENE OF SCOTTES
COMMYSSION WAS ALTERED.
" And theare not only to treete, conclude, and indent, upon all
suche heades and articles, as shall be founde, to our said dearest
sister's commyssioners and them, best for the furtheringe of the
glorie of God, the reduction of our said disobedient subjects to their
detfull obedience to us, for good amitie, as well for bygonnes as to
come, betwixt them, and all our obedient subjects: But also to
treat, conclude and determine, of all other mattiers and causes what-
soever in controversie betwene her and her subjects. And further,
&c."
A COPY OF A LETTER OF THE QUENE OF SCOTTS, WHICH WAS IN-
TERCEPTED AND SENT TO THE ERLE OF MURRAY, ABOUT THE
18TH OF JANUARY, 1568.
From a copy indorsed by Secretary Cecil.
As to the estait of my effairis, I doubt not but ye have under-
stand, that at the convention in Zork my rebellis wer confoundit in
all that thay could alledge for cullouring thair insurrectioun, and
my imprisounment. Persaving the quhilk, thay did sa mekill be
moving of sum of the Quene of Ingland's Ministeris, that, aganis
hir promise, scho has lettin thame have hir presence ; and to cullour
thair cuming towardis hir, said, scho wald hirself understand the
continuatioun of this conference, to the effect the samin sould be
the mair promptlie endit with sum happy outgait to my honour and
contentment ; and thairfoir desirit, that sum of my commissionaris
sould pass towardis hir incontinent. Bot the proceidingis sensyne
hes schawin it was not the butt scho schot at ; for my matter hes
bene prolongit in delayis, in the mene time that my rebellis prac-
tisit secreitlie with hir and hir Ministeris. Swa thay have convenit
and accordit, that my sone sould be cleliverit in hir handis, to be
nurischit in this countrey as scho sail think guid. Item, declaring
him to be als abill to succeid efter hir deith, in cais scho have na
successioun of hir bodie. For hir suretie the castellis of Edyn-
burgh, Striveling sail be in Inglishmen's keiping on the said Quene
of Ingland's moyens. . Item, with hir moyens, and the concur-
rence of the Erie of Murray, the castel of Dumbarton sail be as-
seigit, and tane out of the handis, gif thay may, and be lykwise
30 MTKNDIX
renderit to the said Queue of Inghmd'i behnif and luriping. Pn>
ryding tliir naonmm] be Iceippit, loho ban promiiil to nanpaal and
mantene the Erie of Murray in tin- UMirjutio-in of my authoritie,
and canae bin to be declaril legitime to mcoeid onto the crowne of
Scotland eftei ue deceii of my none, in caii In- die hut bairnii [
tin of hit bodiej and in thii ail the Brie of Murray nil aclmaar-
ledge to hold the icnlme of Scotland n few of the Qaene of Ing-
laadL Thai all the eqni6e of my cans, 1 1 » «- connoiaaanef of die
quhilk I tniatil In the mid Qoeneof England, bea bene reonndt,
and miterabUUe mold for the mine <>f my readme, except mil Ood,
and gnid ScOttil hail Of my faithful lubjectis, remeid not tin- samin.
Zit mil ii not all, mail ii ane ather ligge and intell tarix
the Brie «'f Murray and the Erie of Hartford, quha aonld marie ane
of Secretarie Cecil'i dochteria, qimadoii all tliair dranchtia. B
the quhilk Uppining, the nid Brie of Murray and Haitfhrd mold
meil and fortefie ilk ane amer in il ■ kmn that ilk ane of
thame pretendi on biaawin ndej thai bto my, me Erie of Mnr-
ray on tin' side of my realme, lie iwsnun c.f tin- *.i\i\ leiritimatioun ;
and the Brie Of Hartford on Uir side of lur/land, 1 ■■ uni-
onhill Dame Katheryn, on nuhom be bngnfl twa basnia, urn nmy
will In- baim benl t" my sone's deith ; quha being 1 out of my sub-
jct tis bandia, nnhat tan 1 hoip for l»ut lamentabill tra Thir
thingii ar concradit anmngii me chief of my rebelba, and me m>
rient and natural t-tirinio Of my realme \ and thair restis natliin^
now hot me moyeni to mtaMiah and aaanhf me mid Brie of Mur-
ray in his ninrpationfL To begin the samin, thay would !
gondii ma, be craft, t.» ban kihemllie dimittit my crown, and i
seutit to the rejjentrie of the said Erie of Mun.iy ; and to hntl
entail me eatmmoond to sik ane unhappy thinir, thair has bene usit
all craft and boMting that has bene poaaihill. a\ i 1 1 1 fair paanaiaini BtM
aaing I was raeohrifl to do nattenaj mniria to tliair ptaAt, me Queue
oflngland naniit new Commisisionaris with thame that wer alreddie
depute, in nombre of the quhilk the said tratour, and utheris of his
faetioun ; and not pennittim; BM to pam man to dec lair my awin
lessounis, that thav w.ild have pretennittit in the said conference.
Quhilk being brokin, mrinmik that An Queue of ingmnd has amid
of hir promise, quhilk was, not to permit the Erie of Murray to cum
in Mr presence afoir the said conference wer endit; and mairo\er,
thair souhl be Oathing done to the prejudice of my honour, iMair
and ryeht, that I may have in this countrey efter hir: my saidi-
Connnissionaris left the said conference the sixt of this nioneth, with
solempnit protestatiounis, that all quhilk wer donethairin to the pre-
judice of me in ony sort, sail be null and of nane effect nor valor,
and thairon ar deliberat to cum away ai soon m i^ poeeibill : quhair-
o\' I thocht iruid to adverted ton, to the effect zc may understand
APPENDIX. 31
the veritie of tlie saniin matter, and inform our freindis of the samin.
I pray zon to assembill our freindis my subjectis, lyk as I have
writtin to my Lord of A f gyle and Huntlie to liaiste to zour releif ;
doing ill I the hinder and evill tliat ze may to the said rebellis, and
stop thair returning hame, gif it be possibill ; for thay will be reddie
befoir zou, gif ze mak not haist. Swa ze being- altogidder assemblit
in conventioun, not foiling that I sail stop or discharge zour pro-
ceidingis, as I did the last tinu\ ze sail declair and scbaw publictlie,
be oppin proclamatioun, the afoirsaid conspiracie and tressoun,
quhilk the said rebellis hes conspirit aganis the Weill of the real me
of Scotland, intending to put the samin in exceutioun, to the de-
structioun thairof, gif thay be not stoppit in dew time ; and thair-
fore ze, with my hail! faithful subjectis, and all trew Scottis hartis,
will do diligence to stop the performance of thair intentiounis. This
nndertendit, 1 am maist assenrit, that at the spring of the zeir ze •••
sufficient releif of other freindis.
Proclaim' and bald anc parliament, gif ze may.
LETTER FROM ^UEEN ELIZABETH TO THE EARL 01' MURRAY.
JUKI 8, 15G8.
A C'<»py attested by Secretary Cecil.
BY THE QUENE.
Right trusty and right welle beloved cousin, we vreete you welle.
Fur as mnchai the Qnetn of Scotti our good sister U lately come
into OBI realme, ;:s we ;ire well assured you knoue, with the eausrs
Of herarrivall in the partes where she imw is, ami that she hath sent
to m the Lord Herrys with credit to report unto us her estate, an 1
to disrover her whole late troubles and great injuries done to her by
her suhjeets, begynning at theire notorious ungratefulness upon her
pardoning of theil former great olfenees, and receiving them into
her favour at our request, and consequently by raysing first force
against her, and notwithstanding the ynlding of herself into their
ban. Is for avoiding of hlodde, and being desirous to reforms any
thing that was UBIMJ v ,. t she was taken and committed to prison,
where she w.is most hardly kept, and could be never heard to an-
swer for herself, I, m was for fear of her life, compelled to make a
dimission of bar crown, and in parliament proceeded againsi her,
witliout hereing of herself or any advocate, and 10 deprived her of
32 APPENDIX.
her royal estate. And now finally, she being- escaped and accom-
panyed by her nobilitie, was by force and arms pursued by you and
some other particular persons in battle, and so she was compelled to
flye into this our realme.
All which things cannot but sound very strange in the ears of us,
being a prince sovereign, having dominions and subjects committed
to our power, as she had. For remedy whereof she requireth our
ayde, as her next cousine and neighbour : and for justification of
her whole cause, is content to commit the hearing and ordering of
the same simply to us. We have thought good and necessary, not
only to impart thus much unto you, wherewith she chargeth you,
and others joined with you, considering the government of that
realme is in your power at this present, and that by your servant
Mr. John Woodd, we have understood your offer, to make declara-
tion unto us of your whole doings ; but also to require and advise
you, utterly to forbear from all manner of hostility and persecution
against all such as have lately taken part with the said Queen, and
to suspend all manner of actions and proceedings against them,
both by law and arms, as the like is ment by us to be observed on
the Queen's part, and others adjoined to her ; and to impart unto us
plainly and sufficiently, all that which shall be mete to inform us of
the truth for your defences in such waighty crimes and causes,
as the said Quene hath allready, or shall hereafter object against
you, contrary to the duety of naturall borne subjects : so as we
being duely informed on all parts, may, by the assistance of God's
grace, direct our actions and orders principally to his glory, and
next to the conservation of our owne honour in the sight of all other
princes ; and finally, to the maintainance and increase of peace and
concord between both these two realmes. And as you shall meane
to have us favourable to all your just causes, so we earnestly require
you to observe the request of these our lettres.
These words follow in Secretary Cecil's hand.
The trew copy of the Queen's Majesty's lettre to the Earle of Mur-
ray, by me,
W. Cecill.
APPENDIX. 33
FART OF A NOTE OF WHAT THE EARL OF MURRAY AND HIS COUN-
SELLORS DELIVERED TO MR. MIDDLEMORE, TO BE REPORTED
TO THE ENGLISH QUEEN, IN ANSWER TO THE PRECEDING, 22d
junii 1588.
**** And for our offer, to mak her Majestie declaratioun of our
haill doingis, anent that quhairwith the Quene, our Soverane Lordis
mother, chargis us, and otheris, joinit with us ; we have alreddy
sent unto our servand Mr. Jhone Wode, that quhilk we traist sail
sufficientlie resolve hir Majestie of ony thing scho standis doubtful
unto : and zit gif hir hienes will that we send other for mair special
informatioun of the cais, we sail glaidlie follow hir plesoure, with
als grite haist as possible we can.
Bot because we persave the trial, quhilk the Quenis Majestie is
myndit to have taken, is to be usit wit grit ceremonye and solemni-
teis, we wald be maist laith to enter into accusatioun of the Quene,
moder of the King our Soverane, and syne to enter in qualificatioun
with hir; for all men may judge how dangerous and prejudicial
that suld be. Alwayis, in cais the Quenis Majestie will have the ac-
cusatioun directlie to proceid, it wer maist ressonabill we understude
quhat we suld luke to follow thairupon, in cais we preive all that
we allege : utherwayis we sal be als incertane efter the caus con-
cludit, as we ar presentlie. And thairfoir, we pray zow requyre hir
hienes, in this point to resolve us ; at leist that my Lordis of the
counsal will assure us quhat we sail lippin unto.
Farther, it may be, that sic letteris as we haif of the Quene, our
Soverane Lordis moder, that sufficientlie, in our^opinioun, preivis
Mr consenting to the murthure of the King hir lauchful husband,
sal be callit in doubt be the juges to be constitute for examinatioun
and trial of the caus, quhether thay may stand, or fall ; pruif, or not.
Thairfoir sen our servand Mr. Jhone Wode lies the copies of the
samin letteris trans! atit in our language, we wald ernestlie desyre
that the saidis copies may be considerit be the juges that sail haif the
examinatioun and commissioun of the matter, that thay may resolve
us this far, in cais the principal agrie with the copie, that then we
pruif the caus indeed : for quhen we haif manifestit and schawin all,
and zit sail haif na assurance, that it we send sail satisfie for proba-
tioun, for quhat purpois sail we ather accuse, or tak care how to
pruif, quhen we ar not assurit quhat to pruif, or, quhen we have
preivit, quhat sail succeid ?
;*
1PPENDIX
JOURNAL OP TBI COMMISSIONERS, INTITULED, TUB B
I . 6, L56S, w , -
MfD HIS COMMISSION I M «. M
•] n 1 1 qi i un rr§«
At twi "t 'l ■«■ < ■!"« 1^ in ; ■• ben all tl Q
jestte't Commissioner! araarc issasabled in the accustomed chamber
r« declared to the Brie of Murray and hi» col
Queues Majesties mUUkeing ol ■ <
their s.iM-r.i'm, for which purpc- id Brie and bis collegues
• in-lit for to he tin .in [in w it. the Bishop <'t Rom and 1.
teste one Mr. Botthich to require thai they mighl oom t • the said
Commissioner! t" declare certen matter. W hereupon the said ( oni-
■lissiomii preferring! the Hud motion to
proce d e d with the nid Brls of Mm bop, n
■nderstuid w Initial the nutter which tiny had fee dor lain, was of
Mirlir import. Hire ;is \\ . ire meete t ■• he undcrMoodc heforr tiny
should speake \\ i t ! i the Krle of Murray, y with
tin-in all, randy with them. W i
iwered, that their de sir e mas to speake tir>t with them. And
Msjeatie'i ( ommissiom in the Krle ami his partie ta with-
dtawc then v ' ['. a ho a lib hi
being OOm, said, thai thaj ha. I considered with them
sime their beinge upon Saturday last with her Majestaai that sfheai
they did then perceave that her Majestic meute to procede with the
Brie of Murray and bis partie, to require proofea upon the i
lions produced against the Queue their Soverain, thej rraitr Iff dp
elan thai the] could no turder procede in this
their partes w.'uld protest, that except the Queue their M
might sppere in person before the Quem -
hei eeUe, this conference might be diM I they
had conefeared their meaninge in writing, arhieh they p to du ced md
read. Wheriu becaUSI tiny did otherwise repeate the ( v »
jesty*s snswere made unto them on Saturday, then was hatha
plainly and manifestly knowen unto her Majestic*! ( ODQ
which were at Hampton-court, in presence of her Mijastia, at the
giveinge of the snswere to them, the same was by them all with aaa
consent ymproved. and thereupon answered, that they could i
ceave the same writinge of her Majestie's answeare without preju-
dising of the truth it selfe, ami manyfestc otVence in their own con-
sciences. And for those respects they required the said Bishop and
his collegues to retaine their writeing with themselves, offering*
APPENDIX. 35
verthelesse, that if they would at any time offer any writeinge unto
them to this purpose, or any other conteyning the Queue's Ma-
je>tie's answeare according to the truth therof. they would willingly
receare the same. And bo the said Bishop reiteratinge in woides
their request hy way of protestinge, that they meant neither to treat
nor comne ire any more in this conference, they went their waie.
After thhj done, the Brie of .Murray and hu collegues cnmminge
to the Queue's Majesty's Commissioners, weare charged in the
Queue's Majesty's name, hy the Lord Keeper in this manner fol-
lowing :
My Lords, thfl Queue's Majestic, upon the consideration had of
that you call your eike, being an addition fed your former answeare
hath commanded us to say unto yon, that her highness tbinketh
very much and very strange that, being native subjects to the Queue
ofScotts, yon should accuse her of so horrible ■ cryme, odiblc both
toQod and man, a cryme agtinal law and nature, wherhy if you
should prOTO it true, she should he infamous to all Princes in the
world. And therfue hath willed 01 to say unto you, that although
you in this doing have forgot TOUT duties of allegiance toward \our
So\