by Alison Weir
Nau later asserted that the Lords “fomented discord between the King and Queen by underhand dealings,” in order to keep Moray in power, yet Mary had reason enough to be antagonistic towards Darnley, and clearly had no desire for a true reconciliation. Melville tried to mediate between the royal couple, but became so importunate that the Queen got Moray to reprove him and charge him not to be so familiar with the King in the future. Melville was one of the few people who were sympathetic towards Darnley, and believed him to have “failed rather for want of good counsel and experience than from any bad inclinations. It appeared to be fatal to him to like better of flatterers and ill company than plain speakers and good men.”74
Whatever her private feelings, Mary gave a convincing show in public of marital felicity, which was necessary in view of her coming confinement. Lennox states that the King and Queen “accompanied in bed as man and wife,”75 and Castelnau, when he passed through Berwick, told Bedford that they had spent two nights together, and that he had done his best to bring them together.76Later, in London, he informed de Silva that they were behaving as a married couple should, and that, after his arrival, the Queen had been more openly affectionate towards Darnley, but he had also noticed that there was suspicion and distrust between them. He added that the King did not “seem bad personally, or in his habits,” and passed his time “mostly in warlike exercises. He is a good horseman.”77Evidently Darnley had been warned to be on his best behaviour.
Childbirth held many risks for women in those days. With the future security of her heir uppermost in her mind, being loath to “trust her child to the keeping of her husband,”78Mary’s priority was to seek by all means to ensure the tranquillity of her realm.79At the end of April, determined to reconcile Moray, Argyll and their ally, the Earl of Glencairn, with Bothwell, Huntly and Atholl, she invited them all to a feast at Edinburgh Castle. Out of courtesy, they acted civilly towards each other, and afterwards worked together as the core of the Privy Council, on which Moray, Argyll and Glencairn were formally reinstated on 29 April, but Mary was aware that their entente was purely superficial. Before long, Moray was attempting to remove Bothwell from court and engage him elsewhere by stirring up trouble in the Borders, with the help of Morton and other exiles. Together, they incited lawless clans such as the Kers of Cessford, the Scotts of Buccleuch and the notorious Elliotts, to create disturbances. Not surprisingly, by 27 April, Mary was seriously contemplating retiring to France for three months after the birth of her child and appointing a regency council to govern during her absence.80 Two days later, she defiantly, and foolishly, recruited Rizzio’s eighteen-year-old brother Joseph (Giuseppe) who had come to Scotland in Castelnau’s train and was a virtual unknown, as her French Secretary.81
In Rome, on 26 April, the Bishop of Dunblane informed the Pope of Rizzio’s murder and urged him to assist the Queen of Scots in her present crisis.82 Mary had also asked the Cardinal of Lorraine for advice about obtaining aid from the Vatican.83 Clearly, she did not want the Catholic powers to think she had abandoned her policies in favour of the old religion, but she also wanted them to be aware of the difficulties she faced.
But Darnley, who feared the Protestant establishment in Scotland and certainly aimed to win support in Europe, seems to have decided to set himself up as the hope of Catholicism, preferably to the detriment of Mary, and in the expectation of securing the power he had been denied by the collapse of the coup. On 29 April, de Silva informed Philip II: “The King continues his devotion to the ancient religion and hears Mass every day.”84 Philip appears to have thought Mary lukewarm in her efforts to restore Catholicism, for, although he condemned Rizzio’s murder, he was no longer so willing to send help to Mary as he had been after the Chaseabout Raid.85He was also preoccupied with his planned invasion of his Dutch provinces, in which he intended ruthlessly to suppress the heresy that had taken root there. The knowledge that King Philip would soon be in the Netherlands may have given impetus to Darnley’s hopes of enlisting foreign allies in the Catholic—and his own—cause.
On 6 May, in pursuance of this strategy, and forestalling any attempt to make him return his Order of St. Michael, Darnley wrote to Charles IX and Catherine de’ Medici, protesting that he had been “greatly wronged by a rumour that makes me guilty of such a horrible crime. But I hope that my innocence, fully accepted by the Sieur de Mauvissière, to whom I have told the truth of all, will not allow you to have any other than a good opinion of me.” He entrusted the letter to Castelnau, who was about to leave Scotland.86
On 12 May, Pius V wrote to Mary, congratulating her on her escape from “the treason of heretics,” which he attributed to the sharp practice of Queen Elizabeth, and announcing that he would be sending a nuncio to Scotland, along with a subsidy.87He did not tell the Queen that the Nuncio was to ensure that the money was spent in the Catholic cause, so that she might prevail over her rebels; given her past record, he was not sufficiently convinced of Mary’s zeal for the Faith. His Nuncio, Vincenzo Laureo, a Jesuit hardliner who had recently been appointed Bishop of Mondovi,88 left Rome on 6 June, firstly to visit his new See, and then to pay the first of two visits to the Catholic duchy of Savoy. After that, he intended to travel on to Scotland, although he was well aware that the Protestant establishment would do everything in their power to keep him from setting foot in that land. He carried with him, not only 150,000 gold crowns of the promised subsidy,89but also a papal brief implying that the Pope himself meant to go to Scotland and mentioning the support that could be expected for Mondovi’s mission from the King of Spain.90
Meanwhile, on 12 May, it was reported by an English observer that the Queen’s hatred for Darnley was such that he could not safely stay in Scotland;91 four days later, Sir John Forster at Berwick informed Cecil that Darnley was now planning to leave the country.92According to Knox, he was “desolate and half desperate,”93but there may have been a more tactical reason for this decision, for, as will be seen, he was bent on going to Flanders. It is surely more than mere coincidence that this was at a time when it became known that King Philip was expected in the Netherlands.
Around 17 May, the Earl and Countess of Bothwell visited Haddington Abbey. Here, Bothwell committed adultery with his wife’s serving maid, twenty-year-old Bessie Crawford, the black-haired daughter of a blacksmith.94Bothwell sent one of his followers, a local merchant called Patrick Wilson, with an invitation to Bessie to look over the abbey buildings. On Bothwell’s orders, Wilson locked her in a lodging in the cloisters. Half an hour later, Bothwell arrived and took the key from him. A porter and two other people heard whispering behind the door, then watched Bothwell leave soon afterwards with loosened breeches, which Wilson helped him fasten. On another occasion, Bessie emerged from a short tryst with the Earl in the abbey tower, with her hair and clothes in disarray.95 George Dalgleish, Bothwell’s tailor, later stated that Lady Bothwell, suspicious of Bessie’s relationship with her husband, had sent the girl away. On 11 June, Bothwell conferred the lands of Nether Hailes on his wife, possibly as a peace offering. This early infidelity confirms that Bothwell’s marriage was no love match, and that he remained an opportunist where women were concerned.
But Bothwell had little leisure for dalliance, for he had been charged with keeping the Queen’s peace in the Borders, which Moray had deliberately disturbed. On Bothwell’s advice, Mary now announced a series of royal assizes to check lawlessness in the region, and summoned her lieges to attend her at Peebles on 13 August, to allow her time to recover from her confinement.
On 24 May, Morton, now resident in Alnwick and obviously keeping track of Darnley’s movements, reported to Bedford that he had information that the King was “minded to depart to Flanders and such other places as he thinks will best serve for his purpose to complain upon the Queen, for the evil handling and treatment” that he received from her; already, his ship was lying ready at Glasgow. Blinkered by unrealistic ambitions for a crown, Darnley was again dabbling in treason, having learned nothi
ng from past experience. Yet, if his complaints bore fruit, his wife’s crown, and the succession of her child, would again be seriously in jeopardy.
Lennox later alleged that Darnley had told him that, towards the end of her pregnancy, “Bothwell was all in all” to Mary, and that, in an attempt to be revenged upon Moray for his rebellion, she had tried to incite him (Darnley) to seduce the virtuous Countess of Moray, saying “I assure you, I shall never love you the worse.” When a shocked Lennox warned his son never to be unfaithful to his sovereign, Darnley lied that he had “never offended the Queen my wife in meddling with any other woman in thought, let be in deed.” This tale is unlikely: firstly, there is no contemporary evidence to support it, and secondly, Mary and Moray were now on good terms and she needed his support against Darnley. There was no reason why she should wreck the peace she had brought about by instigating a blood feud between her husband and her brother, unless she hoped that Moray, in a jealous rage, would kill Darnley in revenge, and thus rid her of him. But Buchanan, who repeats the tale, does not place this construction on it, and offers the unlikely explanation that Mary “thought by that way to be revenged on three enemies at once, the King, the Earl and his wife, and therewithal to win a colour and cause for divorce, to make empty bed room for Bothwell.”96 This is patently absurd because, not only was Mary about to leave bequests in her Will to Moray and his wife, but elsewhere in his narrative, Buchanan places the commencement of Mary’s alleged affair with Bothwell in September 1566; yet he states that this incident occurred “when she was great with child”; furthermore, adultery would not have provided a Catholic with grounds for annulment, and in any case it is very unlikely that Mary was contemplating an annulment at this time.
On 3 June, Mary ceremonially withdrew into seclusion to await her confinement. A midwife, Margaret Asteane, was appointed and provided with a new black gown, the royal bed was hung with blue taffeta and velvet, ten ells of Holland cloth were purchased for the cradle, and the relics of St. Margaret of Scotland were sent for from Dunfermline, in the belief that they would protect the Queen while she was in labour.
On the same day, as well as receiving the Sacrament, as “one who is in proximate danger of death,”97Mary made her Will, leaving everything but specific bequests to her child. To Darnley, she left twenty-six items of jewellery, including two watches and the red-enamelled diamond ring that he had placed on her finger on their wedding day. This was the largest of her bequests, and it suggests not only a softening in her attitude towards him, but also an attempt to ensure his future security; Mary would hardly have done this if she were contemplating getting rid of him by annulment, revenge killing or murder, as the later libels allege.98 The Queen also left items to her Guise relatives, the Earls and Countesses of Moray, Argyll and Huntly, old Lady Huntly, Lady Seton, the four Maries, Arthur Erskine and even the Lennoxes; a ring that Rizzio had given her was willed to his brother Joseph, who was to convey it to a secret beneficiary.
This cannot have been Bothwell, for he was openly to receive two bequests, a table diamond set in black enamel, and a miniature figurine of a mermaid set in diamonds, holding a diamond mirror and a ruby comb.99This may well have had a certain significance, for, in the symbolism of the day, a mermaid represented a siren or temptress, whose involvement with mortals was inevitably followed by disaster; in the popular understanding, the word “mermaid” was synonymous with “prostitute.” Mary was hardly likely to refer to herself in this context, especially in her Will, therefore it is possible that this bequest bore a subtle warning about Bothwell’s involvement with Bessie Crawford and other women who might lead him astray. The Privy Councillors, including Bothwell, all signed a document binding them to honour the Queen’s Will.100
On 7 June, Randolph reported that Bothwell and Huntly, who must have been concerned about Moray’s influence over the Queen, had had their request for lodgings in Edinburgh Castle turned down by Mary, on the advice of Moray.101This suggests that Moray’s influence had now superseded Bothwell’s. Soon afterwards, Randolph was recalled to London, and on 13 June, Elizabeth I dispatched Sir Henry Killigrew to Edinburgh to inform Mary that his Queen “prayed God to send Her Majesty a quick and happy delivery” and had banished the fugitive Lords from her realm.102 Yet, for all Elizabeth’s fine words, they remained unmolested in their northern refuges.103Morton was “now in a hard condition,” being reduced to near penury, but Mary would not permit his friends to send him money.104
Ruthven died at Newcastle on 13 June, having “showed great repentance for his wicked life.” Morton witnessed the final ravings of the old warlock, who cried “that he saw Paradise opened and a great company of angels coming to take him”; Nau commented acidly that they were probably “diabolical illusions wrought by evil spirits.”105The grieving Morton, however, reported that Ruthven’s end “was so godly that all men that saw it did rejoice.”106 Ruthven’s heir was his son, William, but he could not succeed to the title because of his father’s forfeiture.
Two days after Ruthven’s death, there were premature rejoicings in Edinburgh as a result of a false report that the Queen had given birth to a son.107 In fact, Mary’s labour did not commence until 18 June, at which time she withdrew from her state bedchamber into the adjoining cabinet, a tiny room with a window overlooking the city. Here, she would be attended only by the midwife and her ladies-in-waiting until after the birth. For the first time in twenty-four years, an heir to Scotland’s throne was about to be born.
10
“AN UNWELCOME INTRUDER”
THE QUEEN’S LABOUR WAS PROTRACTED and exceptionally painful. As the contractions became more severe, “she began to wish that she had never been married.”1 At one stage, her suffering was so great that Margaret Fleming, Countess of Atholl is said to have resorted to sorcery in an attempt to transfer the Queen’s pains to Mary Beaton’s aunt, Margaret, Lady Reres.2Predictably, Mary’s agony abated not one jot and, being warned by her ladies that she and her child were in great peril, she beseeched God to save her baby rather than herself.3 Melville later recalled that he “lay within the Castle of Edinburgh, praying night and day for Her Majesty’s good and happy delivery of a fair son.” His prayers were answered when, between nine and eleven4on the morning of Wednesday, 19 June 1566, after twenty hours of labour, Mary was delivered of a healthy boy, who was named James and bore the title Duke of Rothesay from birth. Years later, the Queen wrote to Lady Lennox, “I have borne him, and God knoweth with what danger to him and me both.”5
The birth boosted Mary’s popularity, ensured the future of her dynasty, put paid to Darnley’s pretensions to the Crown, and immeasurably strengthened the Queen’s claim to the English succession. From now on, however, her ambitions were not just for herself, but for her son, and Melville was dispatched within the hour to London to convey the happy news to Elizabeth.
After the Prince was born, “all the artillery of the Castle shot, and bonfires were set forth in all parts for joy of the same.”6 The nobles, rejoicing, gathered in the Queen’s state bedchamber to congratulate her and greet the new heir.
At about two in the afternoon, Darnley visited Mary, “and was desirous to see the child.” This was a crucial and somewhat humiliating moment for Mary, for her reputation and honour had so far been called into question that she had no choice but to force her husband publicly to recognise the child as his own.
“My Lord,” she said, “God has given you and me a son, begotten by none but you.” At her words, “the King blushed and kissed the child.” This was not sufficient acknowledgement, so Mary took the baby in her arms and, uncovering his face, said, “My Lord, here I protest to God, and as I shall answer to Him at the great Day of Judgement, this is your son, and no other man’s son. And I am desirous that all here bear witness, for he is so much your son that I fear it will be the worse for him hereafter.”
Mary then spoke to an English envoy, Sir William Stanley: “This is the son whom I hope shall first unite the two kingdoms of Scotl
and and England.”
“Why, Madam,” answered Stanley, “shall he succeed before Your Majesty and his father?”
Mary nodded, and said sadly, “It is because his father has broken to [with] me.” Darnley asked her, “Sweet Madam, is this your promise that you made, to forgive and forget all?” She answered, “I have forgiven all, but will never forget. What if Fawdonside’s pistol had fired? What would have become of the child and me? Or what estate would you have been in? God only knows, but we may suspect!”
“These things are all past,” Darnley said tersely.
“Then let them go,” retorted Mary.7Their bitter discourse struck a jarring note on what should have been a day of triumph. It was obvious that there was no longer any need for Mary to keep up a pretence of reconciliation. Darnley had played his dynastic part, and was no longer of political importance to her. Now she need not see him if she did not wish to.
It seems that Darnley had had no intention of refusing to acknowledge the Prince as his own, for earlier in the day he had written to the Cardinal of Lorraine proudly announcing “an event which, I am sure, will not cause you less joy than ourselves,”8and informing him that he and the Queen had both written asking Charles IX to stand godfather to their son.
Soon after the birth, a popular rumour arose that the Queen’s baby had been stillborn or had died at birth, and that a changeling had been substituted in order to block Darnley’s pretensions to the Crown. Some said they had seen a basket containing a baby being winched up over the castle rock to the Queen’s window; others that the Prince was in fact the son of the Earl of Mar, whom he much resembled in looks. However, no one seriously questioned his identity, although the rumours were given apparent credence in 1830, when it was alleged that some bones—not necessarily those of an infant or even a human being—wrapped in woollen cloth (not cloth of gold, as some versions state) had been discovered in a wall during building works at Edinburgh Castle. In 1944, however, this tale was proved to be a fabrication.9
