August the 28.—I learn that M. Fl(eming) hath won her suit. The Earl of Ath(oll) wrought for her, and my lord of Mor(ay) did not gainsay. Therefore Mr. S(ecretary) cometh back. The Q——, it is said, pleaded with my lord of Bothw. to do the man no harm—very meekly, as a wife with her husband. So it was done, and he received at Sir W. Betts’ house in Stirling, after dinner. Present, the Q——, Lady Ma(r), Earls of Ath(oll), Mor(ay), and Bothw. Leth(ington) went down on his two knees, they say, wept, kissed hands. Then, when he was on his feet again, the Q—— took him by the one hand and gave her other to the lords in turn. My lord of Bothw. could not refuse her. Leth(ington) as proud as a cock, saith my dear wife, who saw him afterwards at the coucher by Fl(eming’s) side. I suppose she will have him now. He is restored to all his offices and is sent away to Edinburgh, whither the Q—— must go soon to oversee her revenues. She will lodge in the Chequer House, I hear. Now, why doth she so? They establish the Pr(ince) at Stirling: Lady Re(res) to be Mistress of his household, an evil choice. My wife hateth her so sore she will not write her name, lest, as she saith, the pen should stink. Scandalous doings at Stirling abound. The Q—— in a short kirtle, loose hair, dancing about the Cross with young men and maids: not possible to be restrained in anything she is conceited of. Mem. To consider closely about the Chequer House. I mind that one Master Chalmers, a philosophic doubter of mysteries, is neighbour unto it. A friend of my lord of Bothw. in old times. They say, his pædagogue. Sed quære....
John Leng returned Monday last. I fear little to be done with Engl(and). Mr. C(ecil), most indurate, crafty man, must needs ‘see the goods before he can appraise them.’ A likely profit! Mem. To consider of the Earl of Mor(ton), if he knoweth of Leth(ington) in new favour? A good stroke for him, well worth some outlay. But the charge of a messenger for such a thing?...
September the 24.—Strong matter from my wife—the strongest—writ from Edinburgh. There came in a letter from the K——’s father, my lord of Len(nox), long a stranger to the Court (and with good reason of his own), which put the Q—— in a flutter. She was taken ill and kept her bed. My wife saw her. This lord, it seems, wrote to her Majesty that he could no longer answer for the mind of the K—— his son; that it was not in his power to stay the K—— from a voyage abroad. Much more; but this the first. The Q—— wept and tossed herself about. Note this well: the Earl of Bothw. was at Hermitage in Liddesdale.
But of this, and its wild results, I prefer my own relation. No more as yet of the Master.
[4] The Earl of Bedford was English Commissioner at Berwick, a ready purchaser from scandal-mongers. Mr. C. is, of course, the famous English Secretary.
CHAPTER XI
ARMIDA DOUBTFUL IN THE GARDEN
To the Chequer House at Edinburgh belonged a pleasant garden of yew alleys, grass walks, nut-trees, and bowers cut out of box. You could pace the round of it by the limiting wall, keeping on turf all the way, and see the sky-line broken by the red gables and spires of the little clean city, being nevertheless within boskage so generous that no man’s window could spy upon you. Thus it was that orderly Mr. David Chalmers, in his decent furred robe and skull-cap, was able to tread his own plot, his hands coupled behind his back, and to meditate upon Philosophy, Gnomic Poetry, and Moral Emblems, undisturbed by the wafts of song, rustling of maids’ farthingales, flying feet of pages, or sound of kisses refused or snatched, which those neighbour green recesses witnessed and kept to themselves. In the Chequer Garden, this mellow end of September, the Court took solace while the state revenues were under review, the Queen’s custom being to work in the garden-room, a long covered loggia edging the slopes of grass, from nine to eleven in the forenoon, then to walk for an hour, and then to dine. Holyrood was wide, Holyrood was near, Holyrood stood empty: this was a whim of hers—no more.