CHAPTER X.
MARY’S EIGHTEEN YEARS’ CAPTIVITY.
The last eighteen years of Mary’s life were spent in imprisonment, and are comparatively a blank in her personal history. She was transported, at intervals, from castle to castle, and was intrusted sometimes to the charge of one nobleman, and sometimes of another; but for her the active scenes of life were past,—the splendour and the dignity of a throne were to be enjoyed no longer,—the sceptre of her native country was never more to grace her hand,—her will ceased to influence a nation,—her voice did not travel beyond the walls that witnessed her confinement. She came into England at the age of twenty-five, in the prime of womanhood, the full vigour of health, and the rapidly ripening strength of her intellectual powers. She was there destined to feel in all its bitterness, that “hope delayed maketh the heart sick.” Year after year passed slowly on, and year after year her spirits became more exhausted, her health feebler, and her doubts and fears confirmed, till they at length settled into despair. Premature old age overtook her, before she was past the meridian of life; and for some time before her death, her hair was white “with other snows than those of age.” Yet, during the whole of this long period, amid sufferings which would have broken many a masculine spirit, and which, even in our own times, have been seen to conquer those who had conquered empires, Mary retained the innate grace and dignity of her character, never forgetting that she had been born a queen, or making her calamities an excuse for the commission of any petty meanness, which she would have scorned in the day of her prosperity. Full of incident as her previous life had been,—brilliant in many of its achievements, fortunate in some, and honourable in all, it may be doubted whether the forbearance, fortitude, and magnanimity, displayed in her latter years, does not redound more highly to her praise, than all that preceded. Many important events took place, and intrigues of various kinds were carried on, between the years 1569, and 1586, but as it is not the intention of this work to illustrate any parts of the history either of Scotland or England, which do not bear immediate reference to the Queen of Scots, nothing but a summary of them, in so far as they were connected with her, need be introduced here.
It was on the 12th of January 1569, that the Earl of Murray and the Scottish Commissioners obtained permission to return home, the Regent having previously received from Elizabeth a loan of 5000l., lent him “for the maintenance of peace between the realms of England and Scotland,” or in other words, as a bribe to secure his co-operation in all time coming.[174] Mary, on the contrary, was removed from Bolton, to the Castle of Tutbury in Staffordshire, farther in the interior of England, and was placed under the charge of Lord Shrewsbury, to whom Tutbury belonged. Elizabeth was unwilling to allow her captive to remain long in any one place, lest she should form connections and friendships, which might lead to arrangements for an escape. Besides, Sir Francis Knollys had represented, that unless it was determined to keep the Scottish Queen so close a prisoner, that she should not be allowed to ride out occasionally, which would be death to her, she could not remain any longer at Bolton, for want of forage and provisions.[175] During the year, she was taken about by Shrewsbury, on occasional visits, to several mansions which he possessed in different parts of England; but Tutbury was her head-quarters; and wherever she went, she was very strictly guarded. “If I might give advice,” says one of Cecil’s friends, in a letter he wrote to him about this time, “there should very few subjects of this land have access to a conference with this lady; for, beside that she is a goodly personage (and yet in truth not comparable to our Sovereign), she hath withal an alluring grace, a pretty Scotch speech, and a searching wit, clouded with mildness. The greatest person about her is the Lord Livingston, and the lady his wife, which is a fair gentlewoman. She hath nine women more, fifty persons in her household, with ten horses. Lord Shrewsbury is very watchful of his charge; but the Queen overwatches them all, for it is one of the clock at least every night ere she go to bed. I asked her Grace, since the weather did cut off all exercise abroad, how she passed the time within? She said, that all the day she wrought with her needle, and that the diversity of the colours made the work seem less tedious; and she continued so long till even pain made her give over; and with that laid her hand upon her left side, and complained of an old grief newly increased there. She then entered upon a pretty disputable comparison between carving, painting, and working with the needle, affirming painting, in her own opinion, for the most commendable quality.”[176]
But though Mary thus attempted to beguile her solitude, the thought of her unjust imprisonment never ceased to prey upon her mind. Elizabeth and Cecil tried to defend themselves upon four grounds; but they were all alike weak. They said, first, that she was a lawful prisoner by good treaties. But as they did not mention to what treaties they alluded, Chalmers supposes they meant the same kind of treaties “which justify the Barbary Powers to detain all Christians as slaves.” They said, secondly, that she could not be suffered to depart, till she had satisfied the wrong she had done to Elizabeth, in openly claiming the crown of England, and not making any just recompense. But the disavowal of that claim was all the recompense that was necessary; and though Mary had made the claim when married to Francis, she had expressly given it up ever since his death. They said, thirdly, that Elizabeth possessed a superiority over the crown of Scotland. But this antiquated notion, arising from the subservience of John Baliol to Edward I., in 1292, had long been relinquished, and had never been acknowledged in any treaty between the two nations. They said, fourthly, that the Queen of England was bound to attend to the petition of her subjects “in matters of blood.” But though Lord and Lady Lennox had been brought forward to present a petition against Mary, it was evident that Elizabeth had no power either to grant or refuse such petition, the Queen of Scots not being one of her subjects.
Though Mary’s enemies, however, prevailed, her friends were by no means discomfited. In Scotland, Murray found that only one half of the kingdom was disposed to submit to his authority; and it was not till after a protracted and disastrous civil war, that he was able to free himself from the resolute hostility of Chatelherault, Argyle, Huntly, and others. In England, the Duke of Norfolk was more active than ever in his intrigues. So far from being alarmed by the pretended discoveries to her prejudice, he openly expressed his conviction of their falsehood, and prevailed upon a number of the English nobility to second, to the best of their power, his honourable proposals to the Queen of Scots.[177] Though it does not appear that he was able to obtain a personal interview with Mary, many letters passed between them; and as she soon perceived that her best chance of restoration to the throne of Scotland was by joining her interests with those of Norfolk, (whose power and estates were so extensive, that Melville calls him the greatest subject in Europe,) she promised that, though little disposed to form a new alliance, after the experience she had already had of matrimony, she would nevertheless bestow her hand on him as soon as she should regain her liberty, through his means. The Duke’s machinations, however, which had been hitherto carefully concealed from Elizabeth, at length reached her ears, and in the utmost indignation she scrupled not, with her usual arbitrary violence, to send him to the Tower, where she kept him a close prisoner for upwards of nine months,—while the Earls of Arundel, Pembroke, and Leicester, who had favoured his views, all fell into disgrace. Mary was watched more narrowly than before; and Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon, who pretended a superior right to the English succession, was joined with Shrewsbury in the commission of superintending her imprisonment.
Norfolk had not been long in the Tower, when an open rebellion broke out in the Northern counties, headed by the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland. It is difficult to ascertain the precise causes which led to it. Though there is no reason to believe that Mary gave it any encouragement, it seems to have borne some reference to her; for in the “Declaration” published by the Earls, one ground of complaint was the want of a law for settling the succession. They marched also towards Tutbury, with the evident intention of restoring Mary to freedom, which they might have succeeded in doing, had she not been removed with all expedition to Coventry. Elizabeth sent an army against the rebels, and they were speedily dispersed;—Westmoreland concealed himself on the Borders; but Northumberland, proceeding further into Scotland, was seized by Murray, and confined in the castle of Loch-Leven,—probably in the very apartments which Mary had occupied.
The year 1570 opened with an event which materially affected the state of public affairs in Scotland, and which to Mary was the occasion of many mingled feelings. Elizabeth, perceiving the danger which accrued to herself from detaining a prisoner of so much importance, had commenced a negotiation with the Earl of Murray for replacing his sister in his hands, when she received the unexpected and unwelcome intelligence of his assassination. The manner and cause of his death are sufficiently known to all who are acquainted with Scottish History; and though nothing can justify a murder committed to gratify private revenge, yet it is impossible to read the story of the wrongs which the Regent had heaped upon Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, without feeling towards the latter more of pity than of hatred.
Next to Mary herself, no one had held so prominent a place in Scotland as the Earl of Murray; and there is no one concerning whose character historians have more widely differed. There can be no doubt that, like most human characters, it was a very mixed one; but it is to be feared that the evil preponderated. Ambition was his ruling passion, and the temptations which his birth, rank, and fortune, held out for its indulgence, unfortunately led him into errors and crimes which, had he been contented with an humbler sphere, he would in all probability have avoided. There are various sorts of ambition, and the most dangerous is not always that which is most apparent and reckless. Murray was ambitious under the cloak of patriotism, and the mask of religion. He had enough of knowledge of mankind to be aware, that no one could so safely play the villain as he who maintained a high name for integrity. Hence, though he may have loved honesty to a certain extent, for its own sake, he loved it a great deal more for the sake of the advantages to be derived from a reputation for possessing it. He was perhaps constitutionally religious; but though he was very willing to fight as a leader in the armies of the Reformation, it is somewhat questionable that he would have served the good cause with equal zeal, had he been obliged to fill only a subordinate place in its ranks. There is every reason to believe that in many cases he did good only that he might the more safely do wrong; and that he rigidly observed all the external forms of religion, only that the less suspicion might attach to him when he infringed its precepts. He had enough of moral rectitude to understand the distinctions between right and wrong, but too much selfishness to observe them unostentatiously, and too much prudence to disregard them openly. Thus to the casual observer he appeared strong in unshaken integrity, and full of the odour of sanctity. He possessed the art, which few but profound politicians can acquire, of going in the wrong path, as if he were in the right, and of gaining more estimation for his errors, than others do for their virtues. His conduct towards his sister was altogether unjustifiable; yet with the exception of his rebellion on the occasion of her marriage with Darnley, which was the least objectionable, because the boldest and most straight-forward part of the whole, he contrived to inflict, and to see inflicted, the deadliest injuries, as if he unwillingly submitted to them, rather than actively instigated them. He had little warmth of feeling; but what he had, prompted him to affect to feel as he never in reality did. He possessed all the talent compatible with cunning; he had abundance of military skill, and was not deficient in personal courage. He was not often cruel, because he saw it for his interest to be humane; he was a patron of literature, and attentive to his friends, because patronage and a numerous body of friends confer power. He affected nevertheless an ostentatious austerity in his manners, which it was impossible to reconcile with the worldliness of his pursuits. In short, he had so involved his whole character in disingenuousness, under a show of every thing that was exactly the reverse, that he was probably not aware himself when he acted from good, and when from bad motives. He had far too much ambition to be an upright man, and far too much good sense to be an undisguised villain. Notwithstanding all the ill usage she had received from him, Mary shed tears when she heard of his untimely death; and to record this fact, is the highest euloguim which need be passed on his memory.