Hitherto, Mary’s government had been prosperous and popular. Various difficulties had, no doubt, surrounded her; but, by a prudence and perseverance, beyond her sex and age, she had so successfully encountered them, that she fixed herself more firmly than ever on the throne of her ancestors. The misfortunes, however, in which all the intrigues of her enemies vainly attempted to involve her, it was Mary’s fate to bring upon herself, by an act, innocent in so far as regarded her own private feelings, and praiseworthy in its intention to increase and secure the power and happiness of her country. This act was her marriage with Darnley. From this fatal connexion, all Mary’s miseries took their origin; and as the sunshine which has as yet lighted her on her course, begins to gleam upon it with a sicklier ray, they who have esteemed her in the blaze of her prosperity, will peruse the remainder of her melancholy story with a deeper and a tenderer interest. Let it at the same time be remembered, that the present Memoirs come not from the pen of a partisan, but are dictated by a sacred desire to discover and preserve the truth. Mary’s weaknesses shall not be concealed; but surely, whilst the common frailties of humanity thus become the subjects of history, justice imposes the nobler and the more delightful duty of asserting the talents and vindicating the virtues of Scotland’s fairest Queen.
It was evident, that public affairs could not long continue in the position in which they now stood. With the Earl of Murray and the Hamiltons, the greater number of Mary’s most experienced counsellors were in a state of banishment. At the head of those who remained was the crafty Earl of Morton, who, though he affected outward allegiance, secretly longed for the return of his old allies and friends of the Protestant party. It was not indeed without some show of reason that the professors of the Reformed faith considered their religion to be exposed at the present crisis to hazard. The King now openly supported Popery; the most powerful of the Lords of the Congregation were in disgrace; several of the Catholic nobility had lately been restored to their honours; some of the Popish ecclesiastics had, by Mary’s influence, been allowed to resume their place in Parliament; and above all, ambassadors arrived from the French King and her Continental friends, for the express purpose of advising the Queen to grant no terms to the expatriated nobles, and of making her acquainted, with the objects of the Holy League which had been recently formed. This was the league between Charles IX. and his sister the Queen of Spain, with the consent of her husband Philip, and Pope Pius IV., and at the instigation of Catherine de Medicis and the Duke of Alva, to secure, at whatever cost, the suppression of the Reformation throughout Europe. So great a variety of circumstances, all seeming to favour the old superstition, alarmed the Protestants not a little; but this alarm was unnecessarily exaggerated, and Mary’s intentions which were not known at the time, have been misrepresented since.
Robertson has asserted, that Mary “instantly joined” the Continental Confederacy, and was willing to go any length for the restoration of Popery. He would thus have us believe that she was a direct party to the horrible massacre of the Hugonots in France; and that she would have spared no bloodshed to re-establish in Scotland that form of worship which she herself, in conjunction with her Parliament, had expressly abrogated. Robertson goes further, and maintains, with a degree of absurdity so glaring that we are at a loss to understand why it should never before have been exposed, that “to this fatal resolution (that of joining the Anti-Protestant Confederacy) may be imputed all the subsequent calamities of Mary’s life.” Why a secret contract which Mary might have made with an ambassador from France, the terms or effects of which were never known or felt in any corner of Scotland, should have produced “all her subsequent calamities,” must remain an enigma to those who do not possess the same remarkable facility of tracing effects to their causes which seems to have been enjoyed by Dr Robertson. But it is extremely doubtful that Mary ever gave either her consent or approbation to this League. Robertson’s authorities upon the subject by no means bear him out in his assertions. He affirms, that “she allowed mass to be celebrated in different parts of the kingdom; and declared that she would have mass free for all men who would hear it.” But the first part of this information is supplied by the Englishman Bedford, who was not then in Scotland, and the second rests upon the authority of the insidious Randolph. Robertson likewise mentions, that Blackwood, in his “Martyre de Marie,” says, “that the Queen intended to have procured in the approaching Parliament, if not the re-establishment of the Catholic religion, at least something for the ease of Catholics.” But this announcement of what was intended is so very unimportant, that even, if true, it requires no refutation; the more especially, as Blackwood goes on to say, though Robertson stops short, that this “something for the ease of Catholics” was only to be a request that the Protestants would be more tolerant.[111] Robertson however adds, that “Mary herself, in a letter to the Archbishop of Glasgow, her ambassador in France, acknowledges ‘that in that Parliament she intended to have done some good with respect to restoring the old religion.’” For this quotation from Mary’s letter, Robertson refers to Keith; but upon making the reference, it will be found that he has somewhat unaccountably garbled the original. All that Mary wrote to her ambassador concerning the Parliament was, that “the spiritual estate is placed therein in the ancient manner, tending to have done some good anent restoring the old religion, and to have proceeded against our rebels according to their demerits.”[112] The different shade of meaning which Robertson has given to this passage, is rather singular.
Having thus seen the weakness of these preliminary arguments against Mary’s willingness to countenance the Reformed faith, it only remains to be inquired, whether she was a party to the confederacy formed at Bayonne. It will be recollected, that the measures concocted by this confederacy were of the most sanguinary and savage description. It was resolved, “by treachery and circumvention, by fire and the sword, utterly to exterminate the Protestants over Christendom.” It might very fairly be asked, and the question would carry with it its own answer, whether such a scheme, uncertain as its results were, and sure to produce in the mean time civil war and confusion wherever its execution was attempted, was at all consistent either with Mary’s established policy, or her so earnestly cherished hopes of succession to the English crown? Robertson, however, says, “she instantly joined the confederacy;” and Dr Gilbert Stuart, an historian of greater research and more impartiality, allows himself to believe the same thing. These writers ground their belief on what they have found in Sir James Melville and in Keith. But the former gives us not the slightest reason to suppose that Mary had any thing to do with the League, although he allows that the representations of the French ambassador tended to harden her heart towards the Earl of Murray and the other rebels.[113] It would even appear, by his Memoirs, that Mary was never asked to become a party to the confederacy; for Sir James simply states, that the ambassadors came “with a commission to stay the Queen in nowise to agree with the Lords Protestants that were banished.” Conæus, in his Life of Mary, leaves entirely the same impression, and rather strengthens it.[114] As to Keith, he nowhere goes the length of Robertson or Stuart,—merely remarking that the letters from France tended much to hinder the cause of the banished Lords. He gives, it is true, in his Appendix, an extract of a letter from Randolph to Cecil, in which we find it stated, on the very dubious authority of the English Resident, that the “band to introduce Popery through all Christendom, was signed by Queen Mary.” But if Mary had actually done so, it would have been with the utmost secrecy, and surely, above all, she would have concealed such a step from the spy of Elizabeth. This letter is given at full length by Robertson; and on perusing the whole, it expressly appears, that Randolph spoke only from hearsay; for he adds, “If the copy of his band may be gotten, it shall be sent as I conveniently may.” In the same letter he mentions that most of the nobles had been asked to attend mass, in compliment to the foreign ambassadors, and that they had all refused; enumerating, among others, Fleming, Livingston, Lindsay, Huntly, and Bothwell; “and of them all, Bothwell is the stoutest, but worst thought of.” These Lords must have had little dread of the consequences, else they would not have ventured to refuse. The truth is, Randolph’s common practice was, to convert into a fact every report which he knew would be agreeable to Cecil and his mistress; and so little reliance did they place upon the accuracy of his information, that it does not appear Elizabeth ever took any notice of his statement regarding the band, which she would eagerly have done had it been true. So much, therefore, for Robertson’s declaration, that “to this fatal resolution may be imputed all the subsequent calamities of Mary’s life.” They would have been few, indeed, had they taken their origin in any countenance she gave to the ferocious wickedness of continental bigotry.[115]
There does not, then, exist a shadow of proof that Mary contemplated the subversion of the Reformed religion in Scotland, though it may safely be admitted that she was greatly perplexed what course to pursue towards the expatriated rebels. On the one hand, Elizabeth petitioned in their behalf, well knowing she could depend on their co-operation, as soon as they were again in power; and her petition was warmly supported by Murray’s friends in Scotland,—some for the sake of religion,—many for their own private interests,—and a few because they believed his return would be for the good of the country. On the other hand, the Catholic party was delighted to be rid of such formidable adversaries, and their wishes were enforced by those of Mary’s uncle, the Cardinal of Lorraine. Besides, though disposed to be lenient almost to a fault, she cannot but have felt just indignation against men who had so grossly abused her kindness, and insulted her authority. It was in the midst of these contending opinions and interests, that a Parliament was summoned, first for the 4th of February 1566, and afterwards prorogued till the 7th of March, at which it was determined that, in one way or other, the subject should be set at rest. The matter would then most probably have terminated unfavourably for Murray, had not the whole affair assumed a new feature, and been hurried on to an unexpected and violent conclusion, under influences on which it would have been difficult to have calculated.
Mary had been Darnley’s wife only a few months, when a painful conviction was forced upon her of the error she had committed in so far as regarded her own happiness, in uniting her fortunes with a youth so weak, headstrong, and inexperienced. The homage, whether real or affected, which before his marriage Darnley paid to Mary,—his personal graces and accomplishments,—and the care he took to keep as much as possible in the background, the numerous defects of his character, had succeeded in securing for him a place in Mary’s heart, and, what he considered of greater importance, a share of her throne. But as soon as the object of his ambition was obtained, the mask was thrown aside. He broke out into a thousand excesses,—offended almost all the nobility,—and forgetting, or misunderstanding the kind of men he had to deal with, cherished a wild and boyish desire to make his own will law. He changed from the Protestant to the Catholic religion; but the Catholics had no confidence in him, whilst John Knox and the Reformers lifted up their voices loudly against his apostasy. He was addicted to great intemperance in his pleasures; was passionately fond of his hounds and hawks, grossly licentious, and much given to drinking. Upon one occasion, his indulgence in this latter vice made him so far forget himself, that at a civic banquet where the Queen and he were present, he dared to speak to her so brutally, that she left the place in tears.[116]
But there were other causes, besides the imperfections of Darnley’s character, which served to sow dissension between him and his young wife. It would be wrong to say that they were mutually jealous of each other’s love of power, for this would be to put Mary on an equality with her husband, who was Queen in her own right, while Darnley had no title to any authority beyond what she chose to confer on him. In the first ardor of her affection, however, she permitted him, with the confiding generosity of sincere attachment, to carry every thing his own way; and he was too conceited and selfish to appreciate as it deserved, the value of the trust she thus reposed in him. “All honour,” says Randolph, “that may be attributed unto any man by a wife, he hath it wholly and fully,—all praise that may be spoken of him, he lacketh not from herself,—all dignities that she can endow him with, are already given and granted. No man pleaseth her that contenteth not him. And what may I say more? She hath given over unto him her whole will, to be ruled and guided as himself best liketh.”[117] This was nothing more than the conduct naturally to be expected from a woman who warmly loved her husband, and who, in the ingenuous integrity of her heart, believed him worthy of her love. Had this indeed been the case, no evil consequences could have resulted from the excess of kindness she lavished on him; but with all his fair exterior, Darnley was incapable of understanding or estimating aright the mind and dispositions of Mary Stuart. Had he even in part answered the expectations she had formed of him,—had he listened to the prudent councils of Sir James Melville, and others whom Mary requested he would associate near his person,—and had he continued those affectionate attentions which she had a right to expect, but had far too proud a spirit to ask, he might have obtained from her every honour he desired. But what she felt that slighted love did not call upon her to yield, it was in vain to expect to win from her by force or fear; and the consequence was, that about this time, what was technically termed the Crown matrimonial, became a great source of dissension between herself and her husband.
On the day that Mary gave her hand to Darnley, she conferred upon him the title of King of Scotland; and his name, in all public writs, was signed, in some before, and in others after her own. The public coin of the realm, issued subsequent to the marriage, also contained his name.[118] But though Darnley had the title, and to a certain extent the authority of a King, it was never Mary’s intention to surrender to him an influence in the administration greater then her own. This was the object, however, at which his discontented and restless spirit aimed, and it was to achieve it that he demanded the crown-matrimonial,—a term used only by Scottish historians, by many of whom its exact import does not appear to have been understood. In its more limited acceptation, it seems to have conferred upon the husband, who married a wife of superior rank, the whole of her power and dignity, so long as their union continued. Thus, if a Countess married an Esquire, he might become, by the marriage-contract, a matrimonial Earl; and, during the life of the Countess, her authority was vested in her husband, as entirely as if he had been an Earl by birth. But it was in a more extended sense that Darnley was anxious for this matrimonial dignity. Knowing it to be consistent with the laws of Scotland, that a person who married an heiress, should keep possession of her estate, not only during his wife’s life, but till his own death, he was desirous of having a sovereign sway secured in his own person, even though Mary died without issue. In the first warmth of her attachment to Darnley, the Queen might have been willing, with the consent of Parliament, to gratify his ambition; but as soon as his unstable and ill-regulated temper betrayed itself, she felt that she was called upon, both for her own sake, and that of the country, to refuse his request.
The more opposition Darnley experienced, the more anxious he became, as is frequently the case, to accomplish his wishes. It was now for the first time, that he found Rizzio’s friendship fail him. That Italian, whom the bigotry of the Reformers, and the ignorant prejudices of more recent historians, have buried under a weight of undeserved abuse, was one of the most faithful servants Mary ever had. He approved of her marriage with Darnley for state reasons, and had, in consequence, incurred the hatred of Murray and his party, whilst Darnley, on the contrary, had courted and supported him. But Rizzio loved his mistress too well to wish to see her husband become her master. His motives, it is true, may not have been altogether disinterested. He knew he was a favourite with Mary, and that he would retain his situation at court so long as her influence was paramount; but he had not the same confidence in the wayward and vacillating Darnley, who was too conceited to submit to be ruled, and too weak to be allowed to govern. The consequence naturally was, that a coldness took place between them, and that the consideration with which Mary continued to treat Rizzio, as her foreign secretary, only served to increase Darnley’s disaffection.
Such was the state of matters, when the Earl of Morton, secretly supported by Maitland, and more openly by the Lords Ruthven and Lindsay, determined on making use of Darnley’s discontent to forward his own private interests, and those of some of his political friends. His object was, in the first place, to strengthen his own party in the government, by securing the return of Murray, Argyle, Rothes, and the other banished Lords; and in the second, to prevent certain enactments from being passed in the approaching Parliament, by which Mary intended to restore to her ecclesiastics a considerable portion of church lands, which he himself, and other rapacious noblemen, had unjustly appropriated. These possessions were to be retained only by saving the rebels from the threatened forfeitures, and thus securing a majority in Parliament. But Mary, with a firmness which was the result of correct views of good government, was now finally resolved not to pardon Murray and his accomplices. For offences of a far less serious nature, Elizabeth was every month sending her subjects to the block; and it would have argued imbecility and fickleness in the Queen of Scots, so soon to have forgotten the treachery of her own, and her husband’s enemies. There was scarcely one of her ministers, except Rizzio, who had the courage and the good sense to confirm her in these sentiments; and he continued to retain his own opinion, both in this affair and that of the crown-matrimonial, notwithstanding the open threats of Darnley, the mysterious insinuations of Morton, and the attempt at bribery on the part of Murray. This last nobleman, who had played the hypocrite so abjectly before Elizabeth and her court, did not scruple, in his selfish humility, to offer his respects, and to send presents to one whom he had always been accustomed to call, in the language of his historian Buchanan, “an upstart fellow,” “a base miscreant,” “a contemptible mushroom,” and to whom he had never before given any thing but “a sour look.”[119]