CHAPTER V.

THE QUEEN'S MARRIAGE AND FRESH TROUBLES.

It is hardly necessary to mention that Mary--a Queen renowned throughout Europe for her beauty and accomplishments--was a prize for which the royal bachelors of the Continent eagerly grappled; and that in Scotland she was a rock upon which hopeless victims of her charms made shipwreck of their lives. Under the spell of those charms, a cool-brained Scotsman, the young Earl of Arran, went mad; and (what perhaps, should not surprise us so much), the hot-brained French poet, Chastellar, not only went mad, but was precipitated into acts of indiscretion that brought him to the scaffold. In the question of the Scottish Queen's marriage, however, Elizabeth wished to have a controlling voice, and she left the young Queen under the impression that, if she married the person of Elizabeth's own choice, her right of succession to the throne of England, in case the English Queen died without issue, would be declared. Accordingly, Elizabeth began proposing Robert Dudley, afterwards Earl of Leicester, as her choice of husband for the Queen of Scots. Leicester was a man of extremely doubtful reputation, and most likely would never be accepted by Mary, so long as she was free to reject him. He was the recognized favourite of Elizabeth, as well--a fact that makes it hard to understand why she put him forward in this connection. But, all the circumstances considered, it seems most likely that Elizabeth never expected Mary to marry Leicester. Indeed, she would rather see Mary remain unmarried; but William Maitland, the Scottish Queen's able Secretary, had been urging on Cecil the necessity of settling differences between the two Queens, and of recognizing the Scottish right of succession. Cecil made fair or evasive promises. In the meantime Elizabeth and he played the Leicester farce, to kill time, and probably in the hope that Mary, with her Stewart impulsiveness, would make some sarcastic remark on Elizabeth's policy, or that some other event would transpire upon which they might seize, as a plea for discontinuing negotiations, and as a screen behind which to develop their long-settled design for the overthrow of the northern Queen. But Mary became tired of Elizabeth's and Cecil's policy of evasion and delay, and feeling that it would be unbecoming her dignity as an independent sovereign, to allow herself to be played with and deceived, she resolved to break away from their snares and to marry where she would. She escaped Scylla only to be caught in Charybdis.

At the court of Elizabeth was an accomplished young lord of eighteen years, connected by blood with both the royal houses of Stewart and Tudor, whose father, although a Scottish Earl, had resided twenty years in England. This youth was Henry Stewart--Lord Darnley. The question of a marriage with Darnley had already been represented to Mary by his friends, and now she decided to entertain it. In May, 1655, after some opposition, especially on the part of Moray, Parliament gave its unanimous consent to the projected marriage, which was consequently celebrated on July 29th, and a new era opened in the life of Mary Stewart.

Immediately after the marriage, the royal pair were called upon to take the field against insurgent nobles. Moray, although he had given his consent to the proposed marriage, had subsequently declared against it, and had raised an insurrection in the country. He feared, so at least he professed, that the Queen's union with a "Papist" threatened the well-being of the "reformed" religion in Scotland. But whoever is versed in the Earl's history can discover another motive for his opposition, namely, his well-founded fear that Mary's marriage and the return of the Lennox Stewarts to Scotland would forever shut himself out from the throne. However, the marriage was completed and the insurgent lords summoned to appear at court, under pain of being considered rebels. They heeded not the summons, but prepared for war. With the assured support of Elizabeth, who likewise was offended, or pretended to be offended, at the Darnley marriage, what had they to fear? This was a critical moment for Mary. Would she try to coax the rebels into friendship by promises of pardon, and to conciliate Elizabeth by humble apologies for whatever in the late transaction might have offended her English cousin, or would she take up the gauntlet that had been thrown down, and risk the consequences of an armed encounter with the rebels? Her Secretary, Sir William Maitland, saw the danger that threatened his mistress and, in his correspondence with Cecil, strove to secure an adjustment of difficulties, by a reasonable and peaceful policy, notwithstanding the Darnley marriage. But Elizabeth and Cecil would not lose the favourable opportunity; they abandoned their attitude of obstruction and delay, and assumed one of aggression and command. Maitland could do no more. But there is a force which diplomacy cannot measure, and which cannot be applied through the ordinary medium of governmental machinery. Such is the force of a brave, resolute and inspiring character. Mary appealed to the loyalty of her people, and in a few days thousands of brave men were arrayed under her standard. The rebels, in spite of their attempts to raise the populace on their side, were never strong enough to venture an engagement with the Queen's forces; and after a few weeks they were seeking refuge where Scottish rebels of that period always found themselves secure--across the English border. The uprising served as a test of the popular feeling, and the test proved that the nation was devoted to Mary.

In an historical question like this, on which so much divergence of opinion has existed, one must be careful not lightly to dogmatize. This, however, may be said, that it is not easy to read the correspondence of that period between the English agents in Scotland and Berwick and the Secretary of State's office in London, without being driven to conclude that the subsequent rebellious movements that afflicted Scotland were directed largely from Westminster and aimed at the ultimate overthrow of Mary Queen of Scots.

The rebel nobles had suffered an inglorious defeat. Elizabeth, although she had encouraged them, now, with her habitual duplicity, to clear herself in the eyes of foreign princes, spurned them from her presence as traitors to their lawful Queen. Indeed, it requires more than ordinary mental insight to understand how Moray, if he was the conscientious and high-minded worthy that many of his friends claim him to have been--that "vir pietate gravis" of Buchanan--could have acted the part he did in that "scene of farce and falsehood" which Elizabeth contrived for her own justification. When he and the secularized Abbot of Kilwinning, as representatives of the discomfited rebels, approached their English patroness for consolation, she refused to give them audience, until they consented to make a solemn declaration in the presence of the French and Spanish Ambassadors, that she had given them no encouragement in their rebellion. When the humiliated Scotsmen finished their part, Elizabeth immediately added: "The treason of which you have been guilty is detestable; and as traitors, I banish you from my presence."

What was next to be done? Having given such great cause for displeasure to their Queen, the rebel nobles might well fear that the grants of property which many of them had received from her childlike lavishness, would be revoked at the first opportunity. It was necessary, therefore, that something should be done to prevent any measure of this kind and to cripple the power of the Queen. What means could be employed to this end?

Darnley, at the time of his marriage, was handsome and accomplished, but Cardinal Beaton, Mary's Ambassador at Paris, warned her, unfortunately all too late, against the match, saying that he was a "quarrelsome coxcomb." The truth of the remark was verified shortly after, when the boyish follies and profligate habits of the young King began to reveal themselves. Instead of being a comfort and support to his consort, who scarcely knew where to turn for trustworthy advice, and who had known nothing but suffering since she landed in the realm, Darnley only added fresh trials to her life. He looked for position that she could not grant him; he looked for authority that he had not judgment to exercise, and he became wrathy and troublesome when refused. Besides, he contracted the habit of drunkenness, and associated with low companions. Here, then, was a tool whom the cunning conspirators could use to work out their design.

There was in Mary's service, as Secretary, an Italian named David Rizzio, a man fairly well advanced in years, rather unprepossessing in appearance, but, according to the testimony of those who knew him well, very clever in business affairs, and of inflexible fidelity. Rizzio had so far been the faithful friend of Darnley; but the conspirators represented to the young King that the Italian had too much influence with the Queen, and was instrumental in withholding from him the authority he desired. Finally, the traitors in Scotland and the rebel lords sojourning in England, working on Darnley's ambition, entered into a league with him and signed a bond--Moray, the "vir pietate gravis" among the rest--by which they pledged themselves to give him the crown matrimonial, to advance his cause, to be friends of his friends and enemies of his enemies; Darnley in return promised the recall of the rebels and the security of their estates. Provisions to justify their rebellious enterprise were made in the alleged undue influence of Rizzio with the Queen, and the helpless foreigner was marked for death. A more shameful contract would be difficult to imagine. A few months earlier these men had taken up arms against their Queen, because she had decided on a marriage which (they said) was inimical to the interests of religion, and now they are signing a contract to subvert her authority and promote to unexpected power that self-same Darnley whose advancement they had risen in arms to prevent. Of course, nobody versed in the history of the movement believes that they intended to redeem their pledge. They had need of Darnley until the Queen should be disposed of. After that the mad youth could be easily cast aside, and the way to the throne would be clear for Moray. In defence of these nobles it may be answered, that they were acting in the interest of religion, which they were persuaded would be in danger as long as a Catholic monarch occupied the throne. I admit the interests of religion are preferable to the interests of a dynasty, and, if one must be sacrificed, it should be the dynasty. So far we might put ourselves in the place of the conspirators and frame a defence of their conduct. But unless we likewise admit that the end justifies the means we cannot deny the baseness and villany of this plot.