On the 11th of December, Mary proceeded to Stirling, to make the necessary arrangements for the baptism of her son, which she determined to celebrate with the pomp and magnificence his future prospects justified. Darnley, who had been with the Queen a week at Craigmillar Castle, and afterwards came into Edinburgh with her, had gone to Stirling two days before.[6] Ambassadors had arrived from England, France, Piedmont, and Savoy, to be present at the ceremony. The Pope also had proposed sending a nuncio into Scotland; but Mary had good sense enough to know, that her bigoted subjects would be greatly offended, were she to receive any such servant of Antichrist. It may have occurred to her, besides, that his presence might facilitate the negotiations for the divorce proposed by her nobility, but which she was determined should not take place. She, therefore, wrote to the great spiritual Head of her Church, expressing all that respect for his authority which a good Catholic was bound to feel; but she, at the same time, contrived to prevent his nuncio, Cardinal Laurea, from coming further north than Paris.[7]
The splendour of Mary’s preparations for the approaching ceremony, astonished not a little the sober minds of the Presbyterians. “The excessive expenses and superfluous apparel,” says Knox, “which were prepared at that time, exceeded far all the preparations that ever had been devised or set forth before in this country.” Elizabeth, as if participating in Mary’s maternal feelings, ordered the Earl of Bedford, her ambassador, to appear at Stirling with a very gorgeous train; and sent by him as a present for Mary a font of gold, valued at upwards of 1000l. In her instructions to Bedford, she desired him to say jocularly, that it had been made as soon as she heard of the Prince’s birth, and that it was large enough then; but that, as he had now, she supposed, outgrown it, it might be kept for the next child. It was too far in the season to admit of Elizabeth’s sending any of the Ladies of her own realm into Scotland; she, therefore, fixed on the Countess of Argyle to represent her as godmother, preferring that lady, because she understood her to be much esteemed by Mary. To meet the extraordinary expenditure occasioned by entertaining so many ambassadors, the Queen was permitted to levy an assessment of 12,000l. It may appear strange, how a taxation of this kind could be imposed without the consent of Parliament; but it was managed thus. The Privy Council called a meeting both of the Lords Temporal and Spiritual, and of the representatives of the boroughs, and informed them that some of the greatest princes in Christendom had requested permission to witness, through their ambassadors, the baptism of the Prince. It was therefore moved, and unanimously carried, that their Majesties should be allowed to levy a tax for “the honourable expenses requisite.” The tax was to be proportioned in this way; six thousand pounds from the spiritual estate;—four thousand from the barons and freeholders;—and two thousand from the boroughs.[8]
Till the ceremony of baptism took place, the Queen gave splendid banquets every day to the ambassadors and their suites. At one of these a slight disturbance occurred, which, as it serves to illustrate amusingly the manners of the times, is worth describing. There seems to have been some little jealousy between the English and French envoys upon matters of precedence; and Mary on the whole was inclined to favour the English, being now more connected with England than with France. It happened, however, that at the banquet in question, a kind of mummery was got up, under the superintendance of one of Mary’s French servants, called Sebastian, who was a fellow of a clever wit. He contrived a piece of workmanship, in the shape of a great table; and its machinery was so ingeniously arranged, that, upon the doors of the great hall in which the feast was to be held, being thrown open, it moved in, apparently of its own accord, covered with delicacies of all sorts. A band of musicians, clothed like maidens, singing and accompanying themselves on various instruments, surrounded the pageant. It was preceded, and this was the cause of the offence, by a number of men, dressed like satyrs, with long tails, and carrying whips in their hands. These satyrs were not content to ride round the table, but they put their hands behind them to their tails, wagging them in the faces of the Englishmen, who took it into their heads that the whole was done in derision of them, “daftly apprehending that which they should not seem to have understood.” Several of the suite of the Earl of Bedford, perceiving themselves thus mocked, as they thought, and the satyrs “wagging their tails or rumples,” were so exasperated, that one of them told Sir James Melville, if it were not in the Queen’s presence, “he would put a dagger to the heart of the French knave Sebastian, whom he alleged did it for despite that the Queen made more of them than of the Frenchmen.” The Queen and Bedford, who knew that the whole was a mere jest, had some trouble in allaying the wrath of the hot-headed Southerns.
In the midst of these festivities, Mary had various cares to perplex her, and various difficulties to encounter. When she first came to Stirling, she found that Darnley had not chosen to go, as usual, to the Castle, but was residing in a private house. He left it, however, upon the Queen’s arrival, and took up his residence in the Castle with her,—a fact of some consequence, and one which Murray has himself supplied.[9] But Darnley’s sentiments towards Mary’s ministers, continued unchanged; and it was impossible to prevail upon them to act and associate together, with any degree of harmony, even in presence of the ambassadors. Mary was extremely anxious to prevent her husband from exposing his weakness and waywardness to foreigners; but he was as stubborn as ever; and though he had given up thoughts of going abroad, it was only because he hoped to put into execution some new plot at home. Surrounded by gayeties, he continued sullen and discontented, shutting himself up in his own apartment, and associating with no one, except his wife and the French envoy, Le Croc, for whom he had contracted a sort of friendship. To heighten his bad humour, Elizabeth, according to Camden, had forbidden Bedford, or any of his retinue, to give him the title of King. The anger inspired by his contempt of her authority, on the occasion of his marriage, had not yet subsided; and there is not a state paper extant, in which she acknowledges Darnley in other terms than as “Henry Stuart, the Queen of Scotland’s husband.” It seems likely that this, added to the other reasons already mentioned, was the cause why Darnley refused to be present at the christening of his son.[10] Mary had another cause of vexation. The baptism was to be performed after the Catholic ritual, and the greater part of her nobility, in consequence, not only refused to take any share in the ceremony, but even to be present at it. All Mary’s influence with Murray, Huntly, and Bothwell, was exerted in vain. They did not choose to risk their character with the Reformers, to gratify her. “The Queen laboured much,” says Knox, “with the noblemen, to bear the salt, grease, and candles, and such other things, but all refused.”
On the 19th of December 1566, the baptism, for which so many preparations had been made, took place.[11] The ceremony was performed between five and six in the afternoon. The Earls of Athol and Eglinton, and the Lords Semple and Ross, being of the Catholic persuasion, carried the instruments. The Archbishop of St Andrews, assisted by the Bishops of Dumblane, Dunkeld, and Ross, received the Prince at the door of the chapel. The Countess of Argyle held the infant at the font, and the Archbishop baptized him by the name of Charles James, James Charles, Prince and Steward of Scotland, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Lord of the Isles, and Baron of Renfrew; and these names and titles were proclaimed three times by heralds, with sound of trumpet. Mary called her son Charles, in compliment to the King of France, her brother-in-law; but she gave him also the name of James, because, as she said, her father, and all the good kings of Scotland, his predecessors, had been called by that name. The Scottish nobles of the Protestant persuasion, together with the Earl of Bedford, remained at the door of the chapel; and the Countess of Argyle had afterwards to do penance for the share she took in the business of the day,—a circumstance which shows very forcibly the power of the clergy at this time, who were able to triumph over a Queen’s representative, a King’s daughter, and their Sovereign’s sister. It is also worthy of notice, that of the twelve Earls, and numerous Lords then in the castle, only two of the former, and three of the latter, ventured to cross the threshold of a Catholic chapel.[12]
Elizabeth was probably not far wrong, in supposing that her font had grown too small for the infant James. He was a remarkably stout and healthy child, and as Le Croc says, he made his gossips feel his weight in their arms. Mary was very proud of her son, and from his earliest infancy, the establishment of his household was on the most princely scale. The Lady Mar was his governess. A certain Mistress Margaret Little, the spouse of Alexander Gray, Burgess of Edinburgh, was his head-nurse; and for her good services, there was granted to her and her husband, in February 1567, part of the lands of Kingsbarns in Fife, during their lives. The chief nurse had four or five women under her, “Keepers of the King’s clothes,” &c. Five ladies of distinction were appointed to the honourable office of “Rockers” of the Prince’s cradle. For his kitchen, James, at the same early age, had a master-cook, a foreman, and three other servitors, and one for his pantry, one for his wine, and two for his ale-cellar. He had three “chalmer-chields,” one “furnisher of coals,” and one pastry-cook or confectioner. Five musicians or “violars,” as they are called, completed the number of his household. To fill so many mouths, there was a fixed allowance of provisions, consisting of bread, beef, veal, mutton, capons, chickens, pigeons, fish, pottages, wine and ale. Thus, upon the life of the infant, the comfortable support of a reasonable number of his subjects depended.[13]
The captivating grace and affability of Mary’s manners, won for her, upon the baptismal occasion, universal admiration. She sent home the ambassadors with the most favourable impressions, which were not less loudly proclaimed, because she enriched them, before they went, with gifts of value. To Bedford, in particular, she gave a chain of diamonds, worth about six or seven hundred pounds. To other individuals of his suite, she gave chains of pearl, rings, and pictures.[14] But she was all the time making an effort to appear happier and more contented than she really was. “She showed so much earnestness,” says Le Croc, “to entertain all the goodly company, in the best manner, that this made her forget, in a good measure, her former ailments. But I am of the mind, however, that she will give us some trouble as yet; nor can I be brought to think otherwise, so long as she continues to be so pensive and melancholy. She sent for me yesterday, and I found her laid on the bed weeping sore. I am much grieved for the many troubles and vexations she meets with.” Mary did not weep without cause. One source of uneasiness, at the present moment, was the determination of her ministers to force from her a pardon for the Earl of Morton, and seventy-five of his accomplices. As some one has remarked, her whole reign was made up of plots and pardons. Her chief failing indeed, was the facility with which she allowed herself to be persuaded to forgive the deadliest injuries which could be offered to her. Murray, from the representations he had made through Cecil, had induced Elizabeth to desire Bedford to join his influence to that of Mary’s Privy Council in behalf of Morton. The consequence was, that the Queen could no longer resist their united importunities, and, with two exceptions, all the conspirators against Rizzio were pardoned. These exceptions were, George Douglas, who had seized the King’s dagger, and struck Rizzio the first blow; and Andrew Kerr, who, in the affray, had threatened to shoot the Queen herself. Robertson, with great inaccuracy, has said, that it was to the solicitations of Bothwell alone that these criminals were indebted for their recall. It would have been long before Bothwell, whose weight with Mary was never considerable, could have obtained, unassisted, her consent to such a measure; and the truth of this assertion is proved by the clearest and directest testimony. In a letter which Bedford wrote to Cecil on the 30th of December, we meet with the following passage:—“The Queen here hath now granted to the Earl of Morton, to the Lords Ruthven and Lindsay, their relaxation and pardon.[15] The Earl of Murray hath done very friendly towards the Queen for them, so have I, according to your advice; the Earls Bothwell and Athol, and all other Lords helped therein, or else such pardons could not so soon have been gotten.”[16] It is no doubt true, that Bothwell was glad of this opportunity to ingratiate himself with Morton, and that, in the words of Melville, he “packed up a quiet friendship with him;”—but it is strange that Robertson should have been so ignorant of the real influence which secured a remission of their offences from Mary.
Darnley was of course greatly offended that any of his former accomplices should be received again into favour. They would return only to force him a few steps farther down the ladder, to the top of which he had so eagerly desired to climb. They were recalled too at the very time when he had it in contemplation, according to common report, to seize on the person of the young Prince, and, after crowning him, to take upon himself the government as his father. Whether this report was true or not, (and perhaps it was a belief in it which induced the Queen to remove shortly afterwards from Stirling to Edinburgh), it is certain that Darnley declared he “could not bear with some of the noblemen that were attending in the Court, and that either he or they behoved to leave the same.”[17] He accordingly left Stirling on the 24th of December, the very day on which Morton’s pardon was signed, to visit his father at Glasgow. But it was not with Mary he had quarrelled, with whom he had been living for the last ten days, and whom he intended rejoining in Edinburgh, as soon as she had paid some Christmas visits in the neighbourhood of Stirling.[18]