Mary, Queen of Scots, and the Murder of Lord Darnley

by Alison Weir

  Hearing that Mary was laid low by her miscarriage, the Lords seized their opportunity. On 24 July, Lindsay, Ruthven, Robert Melville and two notaries went to Lochleven with an instrument of abdication for the Queen to sign. Mary was in bed, weak from loss of blood and able to move “only with great difficulty,”78but spirited enough to refuse their demands and insist that she put her case before Parliament. At length, when Lindsay manhandled her and brutally threatened to cut her throat if she continued to resist,79she took Throckmorton’s advice and capitulated, signing away her throne to her thirteen-month-old son on the grounds that she was “so vexed, broken and unquieted” by the responsibilities of her position that she was unable to continue carrying out her duties as Queen. She also signed letters appointing Moray Regent during James’s minority, and authorising Morton and the Confederate Lords to govern Scotland until his return.80Repeatedly, she protested that she was signing under duress and would not be bound by these documents.81

  The next day, not having been informed of Mary’s abdication, Throckmorton informed Cecil that, according to Maitland, if she did not consent to the Lords crowning James, “they mean to charge her with these three crimes”: tyranny, for breach and violation of the laws; incontinency with Bothwell and others, “having, as they say, sufficient proof against her for this crime”; and the murder of her husband, “whereof (they say) they have as apparent proof against her as may be, as well by the testimony of her own handwriting, which they have recovered, as also by sufficient witnesses,”82 who were probably Bothwell’s unfortunate henchmen. Some historians state that Mary was warned of this, and that her capitulation was evidence of her guilt, but it is clear that it was only a contingency plan in case she refused to abdicate. Had they threatened to try her on these charges and thus secured her submission, Lindsay would not have needed to threaten her with death. Throckmorton was pessimistic about the Lords’ real intentions towards Mary, and warned, “It is to be feared, when they have gone so far, these Lords will think themselves unsafe while she lives, and take her life.”83

  On 26 July, Throckmorton pressed for his recall. “I see no likelihood to win anything at these men’s hands,” he told Cecil, and in another letter, confided to Leicester: “It is to be feared that this tragedy will end in the Queen’s person as it did begin in the person of David the Italian and the Queen’s husband.”84

  25

  “FALSE CALUMNIES”

  MARY’S CONFESSOR, ROCHEMAMERET, HAD by now arrived in London, and on 26 July, de Silva reported an interview with him, in which Mameret had said that, until the question of Mary’s marriage to Bothwell was raised, he had never seen a woman of greater virtue, courage and uprightness. He insisted that she had had no knowledge of Darnley’s murder and that she was greatly grieved by it. Mameret disapproved of the collusive suits that had made the Bothwell marriage possible, which (he told de Silva) made it illegal, and also the Protestant nuptials, but said that Mary had sworn to him that she had married Bothwell with the hope of settling religion by that means. He assured the ambassador that “those who had risen against the Queen had not been moved by zeal to punish the King’s murder, as they had been enemies rather than friends of his; nor [had they been moved] in consequence of the marriage, as they had been all in favour of it and had signed their names to that effect; but their sole object had been a religious one, as they thought the Queen, being a Catholic, might settle religion in a way not to their liking.”1Mameret’s view was somewhat narrow, for religion, of course, had not been the Lords’ only motivating factor.

  Having read Throckmorton’s reports, an enraged Elizabeth defied Cecil and her Council, and wrote back on 27 July that she would not negotiate with the Scottish Lords while Mary was in prison, and that she was not impressed by the Lords’ “colourable defences” of their actions. She told him to threaten war if they dared to depose or execute their mistress. That day, he reported that the Lords were undecided as to what to do with Mary.2

  Wasting no time, the Lords hurriedly crowned the Prince, as James VI, at Stirling, on 29 July. For the first time in Scottish history, the ceremony was conducted according to Protestant rites. Knox preached the sermon, Mar carried the young King in his arms, and Morton and Home took the oath on James’s behalf; but only thirteen peers were present, and the Hamiltons were excluded. Throckmorton, naturally, declined to attend. The ceremony was performed by Adam Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney—he who had married Mary and Bothwell—but the crown was too large for the baby’s head, and had to be held above it. In the church, Lindsay and Ruthven took an oath that Mary had resigned her throne voluntarily. There were joyful celebrations in Edinburgh, and also at Lochleven, where Mary was made painfully aware of the reason for them.3

  At the end of July, according to Throckmorton, Bothwell was still staying with his uncle at Spynie Palace. It would be fortunate, Sir Nicholas observed, if Bothwell were executed “or died by God’s hand.”4Soon afterwards, Bothwell was betrayed to his enemies by the Bishop of Moray’s bastard sons, and was obliged to flee further north to Orkney, taking with him 200 followers.

  Melville was making overtures to the Hamiltons, trying to induce them to join the Lords, but after being slighted at the coronation, the Hamiltons were in no mood for reconciliation. Years later, Melville wrote that he, Maitland and Grange were “secret favourers of the Queen” at this time, and “judged it fit that the whole country should be joined together in quietness, fearing that, in case civil war [broke out], it might endanger Her Majesty’s life.” Yet Maitland’s behaviour towards Mary, as reported by Throckmorton, argued otherwise. On 31 July, Throckmorton declared to Leicester that he himself had saved the Scottish Queen’s life, though to what continuance was uncertain.5His mission, after all, had not been entirely in vain, even if it had not achieved what Elizabeth wanted.

  Moray had arrived in London on 23 July, and left on the 31st.6During his stay, he had meetings with Queen Elizabeth and de Silva; the latter reported that Moray had expressed sorrow for the conduct of the Lords towards the Queen, and “said he could not fail to strive for her liberty because, beside being her brother, he was much beholden to her; but still, Bothwell’s business and the King’s murder had much grieved him and had caused him to leave the country. He returned now to see what could be done in these troubles, although he feared they would be difficult to mend. Many of those concerned in the Queen’s detention were his closest adherents,” and if Bothwell liberated her by force, she might try to avenge herself on them. “He would therefore find some means by which she should remain Queen, but without sufficient liberty to do them any harm, whilst punishing at the same time the authors of the King’s murder.” De Silva “told him that the business might be remedied if Bothwell were put where the Queen is; and if he were captured, it might be easy to settle things. He thought so too, as he said, because they could kill him, and the Queen would then be free of him, and they would be safe.”

  Not knowing that Mary had already abdicated, Moray had said he hoped to avoid her deposition, but that the discovery of the Casket Letters made that unlikely. He had been sent from Scotland details of one of the letters by a man who had read it—perhaps Elphinstone—and told de Silva something of its contents, which he said “proved beyond doubt” that the Queen had been “cognisant of the murder of her husband.” He added that he had not even told Elizabeth about it, “although she had given him many remote hints on the subject” of the Casket Letters.

  The letter Moray described was said to have been written in Mary’s handwriting on three sheets of paper, and to have been signed by her and sent to Bothwell. It said that he was not to delay putting into execution that which had been ordered because her husband [Darnley] used such fair words to deceive her and bring her to his will that she might be moved by them, if the other thing were not done quickly. She said that she herself would go and fetch him [Darnley], and would stop at a house on the road, where she would try to give him a draught, but if this could not be done, she would put h
im in a house where the explosion was arranged for the night upon which one of her servants was to be married. He [Bothwell] was to try and get rid of his wife, either by putting her away or poisoning her, since he knew that she [Mary] had risked all for him, her honour, her kingdom, her wealth which she had in France, and her God, contenting herself with his person alone.7

  Even allowing for details becoming garbled in the telling, and a couple of vague similarities to the text of Casket Letter II, this letter cannot be identified with any of the Casket Letters as they are known today. To begin with, it was signed by Mary; none of the Casket Letters bear signatures. Secondly, it was allegedly written before Mary went to Glasgow to fetch Darnley; the first of the known Casket Letters was meant to have been sent from Glasgow. Thirdly, it mentions poison as the preferred method of killing, which Mary is going to administer herself; in Casket Letter II, there is only a reference to “a more secret invention by medicine” that Bothwell is to find, while the blowing up of the house is not referred to in any of the letters. Fourthly, it shows Mary urging Bothwell to divorce or poison his wife—again, this is not mentioned in the letters that survive, although Buchanan refers to it appearing in a letter Mary wrote to Bothwell from Glasgow. Fifthly, how could Darnley be using fair words to Mary if he was absent in Glasgow? Relations between them had been so bad before his departure that Mary could in no way have anticipated that he would speak to her so movingly.

  This all suggests that the letter of which details were sent to Moray was an early attempt by the Lords at forgery or manipulation that was later rejected in favour of something more subtle. Buchanan certainly knew of this letter, and so did Lennox, as will be seen. If it had been genuine, then it would have provided prima facie evidence against Mary that would have bolstered the Lords’ case; but it was never used against her, which argues its spuriousness. Why it should have been rejected in favour of other letters that were less explicit is a mystery, for subtlety was not a feature of the Lords’ propaganda campaign against Mary. The only explanation can be that, when it came to producing this letter in public as evidence, the Lords realised that there was something in it that betrayed its dubious authenticity.

  Moray told de Silva that the worst thing Mary had done, in his opinion, was to pet and fondle Darnley only hours before he was murdered with her connivance. He was appalled by it, and “grieved for the honour of his father’s House.” The perceptive de Silva was not taken in by Moray’s protestations of goodwill towards Mary. “By his manner of speech and the difficulties he raised, it seemed to me that, although he always returned to his desire to help the Queen, this is not altogether his intention. I gather that the Lords can depend on him better than his sister can, although he says he will do his best for her. I am more inclined to believe that he will do it for himself, if he finds a chance.”8

  By 5 August, Throckmorton was more optimistic about gaining Mary’s consent to a divorce: now that she had miscarried, there was nothing to bind her to Bothwell any more, apart from the hope that he would rescue her. Throckmorton reported that all his efforts were now directed towards saving her life rather than restoring her to the throne.9Two days later, the news of Mary’s abdication reached London, and an enraged Elizabeth’s first reaction was to recall Throckmorton and snarl about declaring war on the Lords.10Her plan was either to send English troops to Scotland, or to bribe the Hamiltons to rise against the Lords on Mary’s behalf, but Cecil warned her that her intervention might cost Mary her life. Elizabeth furiously accused him of being lukewarm in Mary’s cause, but, as they were arguing, Throckmorton’s letter arrived, which lent weight to Cecil’s warning and made Elizabeth pause. Four days later, she changed her mind and decided not to make war on the Scots. Instead, she ordered Throckmorton to stay at his post and promote the Regency of Moray, which seemed the best guarantee of Mary’s safety; however, if the Lords harmed Mary in the meantime, Throckmorton was to threaten them in the strongest terms with England’s vengeance. However, by 9 August, Throckmorton had managed to wring a promise from Maitland that Mary “shall not die any violent death unless some new accident chance”; he was now, more than ever, convinced that he had saved her life.11

  Bothwell had just arrived in the Orkney Isles in the far north, where he made an attempt to raise more men, but was thwarted by the machinations of Balfour’s brother Gilbert, Bailiff of Orkney, who prevented him from establishing a secure base on the islands. He and his followers therefore took to piracy, harrying English and Danish shipping from the four men-of-war that, as Lord Admiral of Scotland, he had commandeered before sailing north.12

  The Lords were now determined to pursue Bothwell and kill him, and on 10 August, the Dundee authorities were ordered to fit out four ships for an expedition against him, which was to be led by Kirkcaldy of Grange and Tullibardine. That day, Grange wrote to Bedford: “Although I be no good seaman, I promise he [Bothwell] shall either carry me with him, or else I shall bring him dead or quick to Edinburgh.”13

  Moray returned to Edinburgh on 11 August, to a rapturous welcome on the part of those who regarded him as their Protestant saviour, and immediately took control of the government.14Some of the Lords feared that Moray would be too lenient with his sister, while Argyll, Boyd, Livingston and others tried to negotiate with him for her release, with no success. Tullibardine urged her death, on the grounds that, if freed, she might marry again and have issue, which was a thing to be feared. Again, Throckmorton begged the Lords not to execute Mary, and warned that her death might provoke the Hamiltons to attempt the throne. Maitland replied smoothly that he had heard from Archbishop Hamilton that the Hamiltons, who had hitherto supported Mary, were in favour of her being executed, for then all the nobles would be able to come together without fear of the future.15

  The Hamiltons had, until Mary’s abdication, been plotting a marriage between her and Lord John Hamilton, Chatelherault’s second son, which they hoped would follow her mooted divorce from Bothwell, and which would ensure a Hamilton succession. Now they were ready to betray her, having realised that only the life of an infant lay between them and the throne. That this was their motivation is clear from the fact that, as a condition of their support for the Lords, they insisted that Darnley’s brother, Lord Charles Stuart, be excluded from the succession. Throckmorton was disgusted that noblemen “could have such double faces and such traitorous minds.”16

  By 13 August, Balfour had resigned his governorship of Edinburgh Castle to Grange,17in return for “a large grant of money” and church lands, an acquittance of all concern in Darnley’s murder—which would not have been necessary had he not been involved—and Moray’s priory of Pittenweem in Fife.18Throckmorton says he left “on good composition” with the Lords,19but Grange was obviously the better man for the job. Later, Balfour was made President of the Court of Session.

  On 15 August, Moray visited Mary at Lochleven. She greeted him with “great passion and weeping,” but he was “cold and reserved.” It was a painful meeting, in which he caused her great distress by his reproaches for her conduct, and gave her “such injurious language as was likely to break her heart. The injuries were such as they cut the thread of love betwixt him and the Queen for ever.” Mary insisted she was “innocent of all that could be laid to her charge” and that God would in the end “manifest her innocence,” but after she had objected to Moray being appointed Regent, he left her with “nothing but the hope of God’s mercy.”20

  When he returned the next day, his mood was more conciliatory. He told Mary that he could not obtain her liberty, but “would assure her of her life and, as much as lay in him, the preservation of her honour” by preventing the publication of her letters, but if she made trouble and persisted in her inordinate affection for Bothwell, her life would be in peril and he would not be able to save her. However, if she lamented her past sins, “so as it might appear she detested her former life and intended a more modest behaviour,” and if she showed abhorrence for Darnley’s murder and “minded no r
evenge to the Lords and others who had sought her reformation,” she might “one day be restored to the throne.” Believing this, Mary kissed Moray and begged him to accept the Regency.21

  In London, later that month, Lady Lennox told de Silva that “the Queen of Scots admitted to her brother that she knew the conspiracy for her husband’s murder.”22Moray, however, made no mention of this in his account to Throckmorton. Lady Lennox was naturally happy to spread any calumny about the woman who, she believed, had murdered her son.

  Moray returned to Edinburgh on 19 August. After speaking with him, Throckmorton reported that Moray meant to have obedience to the young King’s government if it cost him his life. However, he was not disposed to execute Mary, or keep her in perpetual prison. It was clear to Throckmorton that, rather than sympathising with Mary, Moray concurred with the Lords, “yea, and as seriously as any one of them.”23

  By 14 August, Bothwell and his fleet had arrived in the Shetland Isles, where he hired two more ships.24Five days later, Grange and Tullibardine embarked with nine warships to seek him out. They sailed first to Orkney, then, finding he was not there, pressed on to Shetland.

  Moray was proclaimed Regent on 22 August.25Scotland now had a Protestant government, swept to power on a platform of public virtue, and committed to bringing Darnley’s murderers to justice. Moray proved a popular ruler and a good administrator. He restored order to the troubled kingdom, and peace in the Borders—in January 1568, Drury was to report that that troublesome region had not been quieter for forty years.26The Hamiltons, however, did not welcome Moray’s appointment.