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

by Alison Weir

  The next day, Mary’s commissioners restated her case in writing, in what became known as the Book of Complaints. When this was submitted, Moray asked for time in which to frame a reply. His own complaint was submitted in writing on 10 October.

  Between sessions, there was a great deal of “off the record” discussion between the various commissioners; Norfolk, as chairman, had made it his business to sound out all the principals. On 9 October, Moray privately asked him if the English commissioners had the authority to pronounce on Mary’s guilt, and, if she were found guilty, whether she would be delivered up to the Scots for punishment or kept in prison in England. He said that, until the present, he had preferred to conceal Mary’s infamy—regardless of the fact that he had sent Elizabeth a copy of the Act of Parliament accusing his sister of Darnley’s murder—but before he took the irrevocable step of charging her with murder and producing his evidence, he must know how, if he proved his charges, he and his colleagues would be protected from Mary’s vengeance. Consequently, he would not accuse her until he had a written guarantee that, if found guilty, she would not be restored, and Elizabeth would recognise the government of King James.

  Norfolk should have informed Mary’s commissioners of Moray’s concerns, but instead he secretly forwarded the Regent’s requests immediately to London, then adjourned the conference in order to give Elizabeth and her Privy Council time to consider them. Clearly, Moray did not want to produce the Casket Letters if there was any chance of Mary returning to Scotland.

  The next day, the English commissioners sent a report to Queen Elizabeth, informing her that the Regent had as yet said nothing publicly about Darnley’s murder, since he was was waiting for her reassurance that his evidence was sufficient to condemn Mary; again, Moray was trying to secure a judgement before presenting his evidence. To this end, Maitland, MacGill, Buchanan and Wood had privately, and most irregularly, shown the English commissioners “such matter as they have to condemn the Queen of Scots of the murder of her husband,” viz. a copy of the Ainslie’s Tavern Bond and a warrant allegedly signed by Mary on 19 April 1567 approving it, the two marriage contracts from the Casket Documents, Mary’s two letters (Casket Letters VI and VII) apparently consenting to her abduction, Casket Letter I, Casket Letter II—“one horrible and long letter of her own hand, containing foul matter and abominable to be either thought of or to be written by a prince”—“divers fond ballads” and another letter that purportedly proved that Mary had incited the quarrel on 8 February 1567 between Darnley and Lord Robert Stewart, in the hope that Stewart would kill Darnley; no copy of this letter has survived. As for Casket Letter II and the love “sonnets,” they did, according to Norfolk, discover such inordinate love between [Mary] and Bothwell, her loathing and abhorrence of her husband that was murdered, in such sort as every good and godly man cannot but detest and abhor the same.

  The Lords had sworn and affirmed that these letters and poems were all written by Mary’s hand. Much swayed by the evidence, the English commissioners observed that the matter contained in them [was] such as could hardly be invented or devised by any other than by herself, for that they discourse of some things which were unknown to any other than to herself and Bothwell; and 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 innocent is abominable, would not permit the same to be hid or concealed.

  Norfolk and his colleagues enclosed for their sovereign’s perusal a paper on which they had noted the chief and special points of the said letters, written, as they say, with her own hand, to the intent it may please Your Majesty to consider of them, and so to judge whether the same be sufficient to convict her 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 very hard to be avoided.3

  Copies of these documents should also have been made available to Mary’s commissioners, but political considerations took priority over legal niceties throughout this inquiry, and the Lords were determined that Mary should not have the opportunity to comment on their evidence before Elizabeth had seen it. Moreover, this evidence was so contentious that the English commissioners dared not draw any conclusions until they knew what Elizabeth’s view would be. Although they had professed to be shocked by the letters, they had made it clear that any condemnation of Mary would depend upon whether the letters had in fact been written by her.

  This was a crucial point. The paper that was sent to Elizabeth by her commissioners survives in the Cotton MSS. in the British Library, and contains extracts in Scots from Casket Letters I and II. Therefore the letters shown to Norfolk, Sussex and Sadler must have been in Scots. However, the Lords were ready “to swear and take their oaths” that these letters were the originals in Mary’s own hand.4As she normally wrote in French and was not very proficient in Scots, and as there is technical evidence (such as errors in translation) that the original Casket Letters were in French, these letters in Scots could not have been written by Mary.

  Moray had also taken the trouble to send copies of the Casket Letters to Cecil, and later noted that these were delivered to the Secretary on 15 October.

  Moray was not the only one to indulge in underhand practices. By 11 October, Maitland had leaked a copy or copies of at least one of the Casket Letters to Mary, perhaps with the help of his wife, Mary Fleming, and sent a note asking how he could best assist her. She replied that he should pacify Moray, speak a word in her favour to Norfolk, look upon Leslie as her friend, and use all his influence to “stay these rigorous accusations.”5Maitland, more than most people, must have known the truth about the Casket Letters. Had they been genuine, it is unlikely that he would have wished to help Mary. But he himself was probably implicated heavily in Darnley’s murder, and his conscience now seems to have been troubling him. He would have sent the letters to Mary so that she could prepare her defence against them. Mary, for her part, naturally did not want such shocking and defamatory accusations against her to be made public.

  Maitland also made it his business to warn Mary’s commissioners that the Lords had shown their evidence to Elizabeth’s commissioners.

  On 12 October, Mary’s commissioners asked the English commissioners for time to frame a reply to Moray’s response to the charges. Then they rode off to Bolton to tell Mary what Maitland had told them. That day, Norfolk wrote to the Earl of Pembroke, giving him to believe he thought the letters to be genuine. But Norfolk, for reasons of self-interest, did not want them to be made public: Elizabeth was childless, and if she died, Mary might well become Queen of England. She would not readily forgive those who had helped to publicly brand her an adulteress and murderess.

  When Herries and his colleagues returned to York on 13 October, Norfolk asked them to apply to Mary to have their remit extended, so that they could “treat, conclude and determine of all matters and causes whatsoever in controversy between her and her subjects.” The next day, Moray reiterated his answer to the Book of Complaints, reserving his right to “eik” (add to or amplify) his statement.

  Meanwhile, Mary had been complaining to Sir Francis Knollys of the clandestine proceedings at York, and told him that, if the Lords “will fall to extremity, they shall be answered roundly and to the full, and then we are past all reconciliation.” On 15 October, Knollys warned Norfolk that Mary was aware of what was going on behind her back.

  On the 16th, Mary’s commissioners delivered their formal written reply to Moray’s written complaint of 10 and 14 October. They said that, if Bothwell was the murderer of the King, that circumstance had been unknown to Mary at the time of their marriage, and that the Lords who afterwards accused him of that crime had urged her to marry him; furthermore, the marriage had taken place after his acquittal. Later, these same Lords had never made any serious attempt to apprehend Bothwell. At Carberry Hill, misled by Grange’s fair words, Mary had entrusted herself to the honou
r and loyalty of her Lords, but had been miserably deceived. It was stressed that she had abdicated only after being threatened with execution.

  This, of course, was the truth, and it complicated matters. That day, Norfolk wrote to Cecil that this cause was the doubtfulest and dangerest that ever I dealt in; if you saw and heard the constant affirming of both sides, not without great stoutness, you would wonder! You shall find in the end [that] as there be some few in this company that mean plainly and truly, so there be others that seek wholly to serve their own private turns.

  Norfolk himself would shortly be numbered among the latter. Later that day, whilst hawking at Cawood, Maitland sought him out in private and informed him that the Casket Letters had almost certainly been forged, since many people could imitate Mary’s handwriting; he had even occasionally done it himself. This revelation, startling as it was, was but a preamble to the real purpose of the meeting. For Maitland had thought of a solution to the present impasse, and suggested to a highly receptive Norfolk that it might be to his advantage to consider marriage with the Queen of Scots; he was certain that, if she married the premier English Protestant peer, the Lords would be willing to restore her to her throne. Later on, Mary, or her heir, might inherit the English crown, Maitland’s dream of an Anglo-Scottish dynastic alliance would become reality, and he himself would prosper under a grateful sovereign, having expunged his earlier crimes.

  The fact that Norfolk was prepared to contemplate such a marriage—or was dazzled by the prospect of the crown of Scotland and also, perhaps, that of England—suggests that he was not as shocked by the Casket Letters as some historians have believed. He was possibly reassured by Maitland’s revelation that they had been forged; on the other hand, he may not have cared too much, given what he stood to gain by this proposed union. Indeed, he would give everyone cause to believe he still thought Mary guilty.

  However, Norfolk was also aware that there was a clause in his commission that threatened anyone contemplating marrying Mary with a traitor’s death. It was this that held him back from giving Maitland a final answer. However, he did reveal that Elizabeth had no intention of restoring Mary or finding her guilty; all she desired, he told Maitland, was an excuse to keep the Queen of Scots a prisoner in England. Then, if in the future she wished to restore her, there would be no bar to her doing so. Maitland told Norfolk he should inform Moray of Elizabeth’s intentions, for if Moray thought there was any chance of Mary’s restoration, he would not dare to produce any evidence against her. This would have suited Maitland very well.6

  Maitland saw to it that a rumour of the proposed marriage was disseminated amongst the commissioners at York, and one morning a hopeful Leslie presented himself at Norfolk’s lodging, asking the Duke to confirm the bruit that he bore a certain goodwill towards Queen Mary. Around this time, Norfolk—who now had a very good reason for wanting Mary cleared of murder— took Maitland’s advice and told Moray that, “albeit the Queen had done, or suffered harm to be done, to the King her husband,” for the sake of her son, he did not wish to see “our future Queen,” accused or dishonoured. He said that, although he had been sent to hear Moray’s accusation, neither he nor Elizabeth would pass any sentence on her, and he urged Moray not to use the Casket Letters as evidence. Moray told no one of this except Maitland and Melville;7he was now more uncertain than ever as to whether he dared produce the Casket Letters before the commission.

  Elizabeth was becoming increasingly unhappy about the way things were going at York. There were too many intrigues behind the scenes, which were causing unnecessary delays. Moray, although he was determined to keep Mary out of Scotland, seemed reluctant to produce any evidence against her. By 16 October, Elizabeth was thinking of adjourning the conference to Westminster, where she and Cecil could keep a close watch on things, and on that day, she sent orders to Norfolk to adjourn the proceedings so that she could lay the issues he had raised before the Privy Council; she also summoned representatives of each party to London “to resolve her of certain difficulties that did arise” between them. She also wanted to find out why Moray and his colleagues forbore “to charge the Queen with guiltiness of the murder.” Three days later, the Queen’s orders and summons reached York, and it was agreed that Maitland, MacGill, Leslie and Kilwinning should go to London. They left on 22 October.

  Mary, meanwhile, had been telling Knollys that she “would not greatly mislike” a marriage with a kinsman of Elizabeth. Knollys reported this to Cecil on 20 October, so Mary must have heard from her commissioners of the rumours about Norfolk, who was Elizabeth’s kinsman on her mother’s side. Knollys added that, in his opinion, the Queen could not detain Mary with honour “unless she be utterly disgraced to the world, and the contrary party maintained.” Knollys was now spending many pleasant hours teaching Mary English, and despite his puritanism, was obviously becoming ensnared by her charms.

  On 20 and 21 October, the commissioners discussed whether or not Moray should have the Regency, Herries and his friends arguing that the office should have gone to Chatelherault (who was then in London), as heir presumptive after James and the nearest to Mary in blood. Moray retorted that it was for Parliament to choose a governor.8Fearful of the political consequences of his prolonged absence from Scotland, he also urged that the proceedings of the commission be expeditiously concluded.

  Mary had now abandoned the idea of a reunion with Bothwell, and on 21 October, authorised her commissioners to consent to the dissolution of their marriage.9At the same time, messengers were sent to Denmark to obtain Bothwell’s agreement to this. Mary had quickly decided that marrying Norfolk would be a sensible solution to her problems, and had already begun to correspond with him. Despite the danger, he was willing to be persuaded, and before long they were addressing each other in very affectionate terms.

  After the representatives had left for London, Sussex wrote to Cecil with an incisive summation of the unavoidable outcome of the inquiry:

  This matter must at length take end, either by finding the Scotch Queen guilty of the crimes that are objected against her, or by some manner of composition with a show of saving her honour. The first, I think, will hardly be attempted for two causes: the one, for that, if her adverse party accuse her of the murder by producing her letters, she will deny them, and accuse most of them of manifest consent to the murder, hardly to be denied, so as, upon trial on both sides, her proofs will judicially fall best out, as it is thought. I think the best in all respects for the Queen’s Majesty [Elizabeth], if Moray will produce such matter as the Queen’s Majesty may find judicially the Scotch Queen guilty of the murder of her husband, and therewith detain her in England at the charges of Scotland.

  Therefore Mary must either be found guilty, “or the matter must be huddled up with a show of saving her honour.”

  Sussex went on to say that, if Mary would confirm Moray’s Regency, the Regent would forbear to accuse her and repeal the Act of Parliament declaring her guilty of Darnley’s murder. He added that the Hamiltons wanted her restored because they hated Moray.

  Thus do you see how these two factions, for their private causes, toss between them the crown and public affairs of Scotland, and care neither for the mother nor child, but to serve their own turns.

  In short, Sussex was disgusted by “the inconstancy and subtleness of the people with whom we deal.”10

  Sussex was in effect saying that, even though he (and no doubt most other people) knew that the Scottish Lords were guilty of Darnley’s murder, and that Mary’s testimony would probably demonstrate this, it would be better for Elizabeth if Moray were to produce his letters and give her an excuse to keep Mary in custody. It was really immaterial whether or not Mary was innocent: English interests must be protected. It was therefore imperative that Mary should not be given a chance to appear before the commission to state her case. Clearly, Sussex had little faith in the authenticity of the Casket Letters. Yet, if his summation was correct, it mattered little whether they were genuine or not
.

  At the same time, Mary was writing to Elizabeth to say that she hoped presently to see a good end to the inquiry, “whereof we may be perpetually indebted to you.”11A day later, she wrote to inform her supporter, the Earl of Cassilis, in Scotland, of “the good proceedings” at York, where nothing had as yet been proved against her. But, unknown to Mary, Elizabeth’s attitude towards her was toughening. On 24 October, Cecil reported that she would not allow the Queen of Scots to be advanced to greater credit than she deserved. It may well be that Elizabeth had heard the rumours about the Norfolk marriage, which she would certainly have seen as a threat to herself; moreover, Norfolk was supposed to be impartial, and should not be inviting accusations of treason by courting the Scottish Queen. As for Mary, this was proof that she would not scruple to plot against Elizabeth. Norfolk himself told Moray he had heard that Elizabeth regarded the continued existence of Bothwell as a useful safeguard against Mary remarrying. Norfolk’s duplicity was probably the deciding factor in Elizabeth’s revoking of the conference to Westminster.

  A further sign of her displeasure came on 30 October, when her Council agreed that Moray should be given the assurance he required, in order to make him press his charges against Mary. Confident of success, the Council decided that Mary should be imprisoned in Tutbury Castle once the conference was over. They also agreed that the English commission should be enlarged.