Mary Queen of Scots in History

by C. A. Campbell

"My lords,--my lords," the captive said, "were I but once more free,

With ten good knights on yonder shore to aid my cause and me,

That parchment would I scatter wide to every breeze that blows,

And once more reign a Stewart queen o'er my remorseless foes."

The next important visit the helpless Queen received in her prison was from the Earl of Moray. The cautious Earl had been absent in France during the troublous times that had elapsed since the murder of Darnley, but no doubt was well pleased with the success with which Morton and his associates had been advancing his cause. His sister was now dethroned, the infant James was crowned King, and he himself was named Regent. The goal of his ambition seemed near. He had returned to Scotland in time to receive the honours prepared for him, and--whatever his motives were--before formally accepting the Regency, he visited Mary in Lochleven Castle. It is thought by many that he paid this visit with a view to rendering his footing more secure, as he probably hoped that the prisoner, recognizing the helplessness of her condition, would ask him to accept the office of Regent. Depressed with the gravity of the trials she had just passed through, the tender-hearted Queen naturally hoped that her brother's visit would bear some comfort to her lonely prison. But she was disappointed. Ambition (if nothing more) had expelled from Moray's breast those feelings of natural tenderness with which we should presume every man to be moved towards a humiliated and afflicted sister. Even his friends are slow to commend his conduct on this occasion. "That visit" (writes Robertson, in the History of Scotland) "to a sister, and a queen in prison, from which he had neither any intention to relieve her, nor to mitigate the rigour of her confinement, may be mentioned among the circumstances which discover the great want of delicacy and refinement in that age."

As long as the Queen was confined in Lochleven, her friends in Scotland were obliged to keep quiet, for it was intimated to them that if they attempted to liberate her, they would be presented with her head.

The unhappy Queen, cut off from the world in the bloom and beauty of her youth, looked out from day to day across the dull waters that encircled her prison-house, and anxiously surveyed the neighbouring hills in which, she knew, her faithful friends were lingering, in hopes of discovering some means of effecting her deliverance. After various ineffectual attempts, a successful plan of escape was at length devised by the ingenuity of little Willie Douglas, a youth in the household of the Laird of Lochleven.

Sunday, May 2nd, was the day chosen for what proved to be a successful attempt to escape. Lords Seton, Beton and George Douglas, with a number of followers, were lingering about the shore, near the village of Kinross, ready to receive the Queen and convey her to a place of safety. Within the castle prison all preliminaries were arranged, but the lowest point of the wall that Mary could reach was higher than she could venture to leap from, and the keys of the gate were scrupulously guarded by the Laird. Let us hear Nau relate how the problem was solved:--

"An hour before supper-time, the Queen retired into her own chamber. She put on a red kirtle belonging to one of her women, and over it she covered herself with one of her own mantles. Then she went into the garden to talk with the old lady whence she could see the people who were walking on the other side of the loch.

"Everything being now ready, the Queen, who, of set purpose, had caused the supper to be delayed until that time, now ordered it to be served. When the supper was finished, the Laird (whose ordinary custom it was to wait upon her at table), went to sup along with his wife and the rest of the household, in a hall on the ground story. A person called Draisdel,[#] who had the chief charge in the establishment, and who generally remained in the Queen's room to keep her safe, went out along with the Laird, and amused himself by playing at hand ball.

[#] When Draisdel--the original, no doubt, of Scott's imperturbable Dryfesdale in "The Abbott"--was informed by the two young girls that the queen was missing and had probably escaped, "he was amused at this, and said he would soon find her; he would give her leave to escape if she could. At one time he whistled, at another he cut capers." Romance must have been unfair in painting him a phlegmatic steward.

"In order to free herself from the two young girls who remained with her, Her Majesty in the meantime went into an upper room, above her own, occupied by her surgeon, on the plea that she wished to say her prayers; and, indeed, she did pray very devoutly, recommending herself to God, who then showed His pity and care for her. In this room she left her mantle, and, having put on a hood, such as is worn by the country-women of the district, she made one of her domestics, who was to accompany her, dress herself in the same fashion. The other femme-de-chambre remained with the two young girls to amuse them, for they had become very inquisitive as to the cause of the Queen's lengthened absence.

"While the laird was at supper, William Douglas, as he was handing him his drink, secretly removed the key of the great gate, which lay on the table before him. He promptly gave notice of this to the Queen, in order that she should come down stairs instantaneously; and immediately afterwards as he came out of the door he gave the sign to the young woman who was to accompany Her Majesty, as she was looking towards the window. This being understood, the Queen came down forthwith; but as she was at the bottom of the steps she noticed that several of the servants of the household were passing backwards and forwards in the court, which induced her to stand for some time the door of the stairs. At last, however, in the sight of the whole of them, she crossed the courtyard, and having gone out by the great gate, William Douglas locked it with the key and threw it into a cannon placed near at hand. The Queen and her femme-de-chambre had stood for some time close to the wall, fearing that they should be seen from the windows of the house; but at length they got into the vessel, and the Queen laid herself down under the boatman's seat. She had been advised to do this, partly to escape notice, partly to escape being hit, if a cannon shot should be sent after her. Several washerwomen and other domestics were amusing themselves in a garden near the loch when Her Majesty got into the boat. One of the washerwomen even recognized her, and made a sign to William Douglas that she was aware of it, but William called out to her aloud, by name, telling her to hold her tongue.