Stirling Castle, its place in Scottish history

by Eric Stair-Kerr

THE PASS OF BALLENGEICH.

A few days before the death of James at Falkland his daughter Mary was born at Linlithgow in December, 1542. The Earl of Arran was appointed Governor of the realm; but in July, 1543, his rival, Cardinal Beaton, rode from Stirling with the Earls of Lennox, Argyll and Huntly, at the head of several thousand men, in order to secure the person of the Queen. Arran, reckoning the troops at his disposal insufficient to enable him to frustrate their designs, sent messengers to treat for peace, and allowed the infant Mary and her mother to be carried to Stirling Castle. The two Queens were placed in the charge of four nobles, the chief of whom was John, Lord Erskine, the constable of the fortress. On the 9th of September the young Queen of Scots was crowned in the castle, the Earls of Arran and Lennox taking part in the ceremony “with such solemnity,” wrote Sadler, the English envoy, “as they do use in this country, which is not very costly.” The solemnity, however, was costly enough to make the unconscious child a crowned Queen, and to give her a high position among European princes, also to stir up strife among the nations and to lead to the grim tragedy of Fotheringay Castle.

For the next four years—save for a short time at Dunkeld during Hertford’s expedition—the little Queen was carefully guarded in Stirling: a fortress further than Edinburgh from the greedy hand of Henry VIII. The English monarch had set his heart on wedding his son to Mary of Scotland, but he alienated the people of the northern kingdom by trying to coerce them into submission to his will. During these years the Queen-Mother at the castle kept in touch with the politics of the day. Here she received the joyful news of the Scottish victory of Ancrum Moor in 1545. Later she welcomed Lorges de Montgomery, who came with money and soldiers from France. In September, 1547, Arran rode in haste to the castle bearing the depressing tidings of the defeat and slaughter at Pinkie Cleuch. After this disaster even Stirling Castle was considered hardly a safe enough abode for the youthful sovereign of Scotland, so without delay she was conveyed to Inchmahome, an island priory in the Lake of Menteith. When the immediate danger was past the precious royal child was carried back to Stirling, before being removed to the fortress of Dumbarton, whence a few months later she set sail for the friendly realm of France. After her daughter’s departure from Scotland Mary of Guise was often at Stirling, but she did not survive to welcome the young Queen home when she returned a girl widow in 1561. The battery at the south-east corner of the castle, overlooking Ballengeich, is known as the Spur or French Battery, the latter name recalling foreign workmen of Mary of Guise, who caused this fortification to be made at the time of the French occupation of Stirling during the religious dissension called the Wars of the Congregation.

After her return to the land of her fathers Queen Mary made Holyrood her principal seat. She sometimes, however, removed to the castle that had been the home of her early youth, finding it a useful halting-place on her journeys to and from the north. In September, 1561, she narrowly escaped being burnt in the Palace. One night as she slept the candle which had been left alight set fire to the curtains of her bed, and although the Queen was rescued from the flames, she was almost overpowered by the smoke. An old prophecy that a queen should be burnt at Stirling came near to being fulfilled.[33] Mary’s short stay in the castle at this time was marked by another disturbance. On her chaplains’ attempting to sing High Mass, her half-brother, Lord James, and the Earl of Argyll, in their zeal for the Protestant cause, attacked the priests and singers with such fury that blood was actually shed in the Chapel Royal. Some of those who witnessed the scuffle regarded it as an amusing entertainment; others, however, took it more to heart, and gave way to tears instead of laughter.[34]

The Queen’s visit to Stirling in 1565 was of longer duration than usual. The cause of her protracted sojourn was the illness of Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley, to whom at this time she was passionately attached. This young Anglo-Scottish nobleman had recently come from Elizabeth’s Court, and was confined to bed in Stirling Castle with an illness which developed into measles.[35] Throughout the months of April and May the Queen kept watch by the bedside of her lover, refusing to travel until he had recovered, and paying no heed to the danger of infection.

The royal marriage was celebrated at Holyrood in July, 1565, and in June of the following year Prince James was born in Edinburgh Castle. Two months later the infant heir was removed for greater safety to Stirling, the fortress that had sheltered his mother some twenty years before. Towards the end of the year Queen Mary followed her son to the castle, where elaborate preparations were being made for the infant’s baptism and for the reception of the foreign ambassadors. Care was taken on this occasion that no Englishman should have reason to remark that “the solemnity was not very costly,” for the Estates made a grant of twelve thousand pounds Scots to meet the expenses of the visitors’ entertainment. The Prince’s godmother, Queen Elizabeth, sent the Earl of Bedford with a massive golden font; the Count of Brienne, representing Charles IX. of France, brought a pair of earrings and a necklace to the Queen; Morette, the Duke of Savoy’s ambassador, who arrived too late for the ceremony, presented to Mary a handsome jewelled fan. On the late afternoon of the 17th of December, 1566, the six months old child was baptised in the Chapel Royal. Barons and gentlemen bearing torches lined the way from the nursery to the Chapel door, where the Prince was received by the Archbishop of St. Andrews and the Bishops of Dunkeld, Dunblane and Ross. The christening service was performed according to the rites of the Church of Rome, although the ceremony of the spittle was omitted at the express command of the Queen. The child was given the names of James and Charles, the former in commemoration of his Scottish ancestors, the latter as a compliment to the Most Christian King of France. The Earl of Bedford and the Scottish Protestant Lords—including Bothwell, who had been appointed superintendent of arrangements—stood outside the building while the Romish service lasted; but the Countess of Argyll, although a Protestant, held the royal infant up to the font. At the conclusion of the ceremony the company adjourned to supper, the remainder of the evening being spent in dancing and music.

The festivities in connection with James’s baptism were not confined to the christening day. On the 19th of December the Queen held a banquet in honour of her distinguished guests, and after the party had risen from the table a display of fireworks was given. Later in the evening Mary created her son Prince of Scotland, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Kyle and Cunningham, and Baron of Renfrew.[36] In spite of the appearance of gaiety, however, all was not well at Court. Darnley, although residing in the castle, refused to be present at the baptism of his son and at the social functions that followed. By this time the Queen and he were completely estranged. His own selfish and disgraceful conduct had caused her to regard him with loathing, and her increasing interest in Bothwell aroused her husband’s jealousy and led to his sulky behaviour. The Queen made an effort to seem joyous to her guests, but her heart was all the time heavy with trouble: Du Croc, the French ambassador, found her weeping in her chamber, suffering both mental and bodily pain.[37]

Sir James Melville also has placed it on record that at this time of gaiety Mary was in deep distress. She was sad and pensive, he said, and she continually gave great sighs; but few of those who were with her at the castle were able to extend to her the sympathy she needed. Melville, however, seems to have been a person in whom the Queen could confide. One evening, shortly before the baptism, she took him by the hand and led him down to the Royal Park, where they could discuss the troubles of the state without being interrupted by the mockery of Court festivities. After humbly proffering his advice and endeavouring to lighten her burden of sorrow, he escorted her back to the castle through the steep streets of the town.[38]

A source of unpleasantness on the evening of the banquet was the masque arranged by the Frenchman, Bastien. A number of men dressed as satyrs, entered the hall as the meat was being served, and seizing the long tails with which they had been furnished, wagged them in front of the English guests. It was an ancient jest among the Scots that their southern neighbours had tails, so whether Bastien intended to give offence or not, the Englishmen present felt highly insulted.[39] The angry voices behind her back attracted the Queen’s attention. Instantly perceiving the cause of the uproar, she rose from her seat and addressed the unruly company, and so with the assistance of the Earl of Bedford she succeeded in putting an end to the tumult.