CLS.'kVAHA. TRINITY COLLEGE LIBRARY DURHAM, N. C. 1903 Gift of Dr. and Mrs. Dred Peacock I « f' r , .;¥■ Dumbarton Castle, on the Clyde- Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/historyofmary01abbo MARY QUEEN OP SCOTS, 5'tiv. /lDal?ers of Ibistor^ Mary Queen of Scots BY JACOB ABBOTT WITH ENGRAVINGS 2 5" ? f Y- NEW YORK AND LONDON ■S ^ HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1901 Entered, according to Act of congress, in the year 184S, hy Harpek & Brotuees, In the Clerk’s Office of the Southern District of New York. Copyright, 1876, by Jacob AbbotTo ^ 2. 3, I ^ I 3 ^ 3 > A P PREFACE. The history of the life of every individual who has, for any reason, attracted extensively tlie attention of mankind, has been written in a great variety' of ways by a multitude of au¬ thors, and persons sometimes wonder why we should have so many different accounts of the same thing. The reason is, that each one of these accounts is intended for a different set of readers, who read with ideas and purposes widely dissimilar from each other. Among the twenty millions of people in the United States, there are perhaps two millions, between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, who wish to be¬ come acquainted, in general, with the leading events in the history of the Old World, and of ancient times, but who, coming uprn the stage in this land and at this period. Lave ideas and conceptions so widely differer.i. irom those of other nations and of other times, that a 2 5 g- S' Preface. viii mere republication of existing accounts is not wliat they require. The stoiy must be told expressly for them. The things that are to be explained, the points that are to be brought out, the comparative degree of prominence to be given to the various particulars, will all be different, on account of the difference in the situation, the ideas, and the objects of these new readers, compared with those of the vari¬ ous other classes of readers which former au¬ thors have had in view. It is for this reason, and with this view, that the present series of historical narratives is presented to the pub¬ lic. The author, having had some opportu¬ nity to become acquainted with the position, the ideas, and the intellectual wants of those whom he addresses, presents the result of his labors to them, with the hope that it may be found successful in accomplishing its design. CONTENTS. Chapter I. Mary’s childhood. II. HER EDUCATION IN FRANCE III. THE GREAT WEDDING. IV. MISFORTUNES. V. RETURN TO SCOTLAND_ VI. MARY AND LORD DARNLEY. VII. RIZZIO. VIII. BOTHWELL. I.X. THE FALL OF BOTHWELL.. X. LOCH LEVEN CASTLE . XI. THE LONG CAPTIVITY. XII. THE END... Paf!« 13 37 56 76 99 121 147 168 198 218 244 260 ENGRAVINGS. Page DUMBARTON CASTLE, ON THE CLYDE. Frontispiece. MAP OF THE CENTRAL PART OF SCOTLAND. PLAN OF THE PALACE OF LINLITHGOW. 22 VIEW OF THE PALACE OF LINLITHGOW. 25 PORTRAIT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 91 MARV’S EMBARKATION AT CALAIS. 105 VIEW OF THE PALACE OF HOLYROOD HOUSE. 114 VIEW OF WEMYS CASTLE. 137 PLAN OF HOLYROOD HOUSE. 160 PRINCE James’s cradle . 174 VIEW OF EDINBURGH. 179 PLAN OF THE HOUSE AT THE KIRK o’ FIELD. 182 VIEW OF DUNBAR CASTLE. 193 PLAN OF LOCH LEVEN CASTLE. 221 VIEW OF LOCH LEVEN CASTLE. 236 RUINS OF LOCH LEVEN CASTLE. 241 VIEW OF FOTHERINGAY. 271 Mary’s tomb in Westminster abbey . 285 li-i.i Mi.vATED Title-page, Trom a design by Gwilt Mapleson. The vignette represents the Castle of Loeh I,even. The middle shield be¬ low represents the arms of Scotland, ornamented beneath with the national emblem, the thistle. On the right are the arms of France, With the lilies ; and on the left those of England, with the white and red roses, which were blended by Mary’s grandfather, Henry VII. MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS Chapter I. Mary’s Childhood. 0 wLen) Mary was bom. Ita sltaadoL ri IKAVELERS who go into Scotland take ■- a great interest in visiting, among other |)Iaccs, a certain room in tlie ruins of an old palace, where Queen Mary was born. Queen Mary was very beautiful, but she was very un¬ fortunate and unhappy. Every body takes a strong interest in her story, and this interest attaches, in some degree, to the room where her sad and sorrowful life was begun. The palace is near a little village called Lin¬ lithgow. The village has but one long street, which consists of ancient stone houses. North of it is a little lake, or rather pond : they call it in Scotland, a loch. The palace is between the village and the loch ; it is upon a beautiful swell of land which projects out into the water. There b> very small island in the middle of the loch and the shores are bordered with fertile fieldr 14 Mak r Quebn of Scots. [154!li iTxlns. The room. Visitors The palaoe when entire, was square, with an Dpen space oi court in the center. There wat> a beautiful stone fountain in the center of tlib court, and an arched gateway through whicl horsemen and carriages could ride in. The doort of entrance into the palace were on the inside ol die court. The palace is now in ruins. A troop of sol¬ diers came to it one day in time of war, after Mary and her mother had left it, and spent the night there: they spread straw over the floors to sleep upon. In the morning, when they went away, they wantonly sot the straw on fire, and left it burning, and thus the palace was destroy¬ ed. Some of the lower floors were of stone; but all the upper floors and the roof were burned, and all the wood-work of the rooms, and the doors and window-frames. Since then the pal¬ ace has never been repaired, but remains a mel¬ ancholy pile of ruins. The room where Mary was born had a fitone floor. The rubbish which has fallen from above has covered it with a sort of soil, and grass and weeds grow up all over it. It is a very melan¬ choly sight to see. The visitors who go into the room walk mournfully about, trying to imag- tio how Queen Mary looked, as an infant inhei 1542.] Mary’s Childhood. 1 ? Mary’s father Id the wan HU death mother’s arms, and reflecting on the reckless- ness of the soldiers in wantonly destroying sa beautiful a palace. Then they go to the win- low, or, rather, to the crumbling opening in the wall where the window once was, and look out upon the loch, now .so deserved and lonely; over their heads it is all open to the sky. Mary’s father was King of Scotland. At the time that Mary was born, he was away from home engaged in war with the King of England, who had invaded Scotland. In the battles Ma- *y’s father was defeated, and he thought that the generals and nobles who commanded his army allowed the English to conquer them on purpose to betray him. This thought overwhelmed him with vexation and anguish. He pined away under the acuteness of his sufferings, and ju.st after the news came to him that his daughter Mary was born, he died. Thus Mary became an or|)han, and her troubles commenced, at the very beginning of her days. She never saw her father, and her father never saw her. He. mother was a French lady; her name was Mary of Guise. Her own name was Mary Stuart, but she is commonly called Mary Queen of Scots. As Mary was her father’s only child, of course, when he died, she became Queen of Scotland iG Mary Q,ueen of (Scots. [io4id (Urgency. Catholic rcllgloo. The Proteatantfc although she was only a few days old. It is customary, in such a case, to appoint some Jis- tinguished person to govern the kingdom, in the name of the young queen, until she grows up: such a person is called a regent. Mary’s moth¬ er WTshcil to be the regent until Mary became of age. It hapjiened that in those days, as now, the government and people of France were of the Catholic religion. England, on the other hand, was Protestant. There is a great difference between the Catholic and the Protestant sys¬ tems. The Catholic Church, though it extends nearly all over the world, is banded together, as the reader is aware, under one man—the pope—who is the great head of the Church, and who lives in state at Rome. The Catho¬ lics have, in all countries, many large and splen¬ did churches, which are ornamented with paint¬ ings and images of the Virgin Mary and jf Christ. They perform great ceremonies in these churches, the priests being dressed in magnifi cent costumes, and walking in processions, will censers of incense burning as they go. The Protestants, on the other hand, do not like these ceremonies; they regard such outward acts of worship as mere useless parade, and the images ) 543 ,] Mary s Childhood. 17 England and France. The Earl of Arran. idols. They themselves have smaller and plainer churches, and call the people together in them to hear sermons, and to offer up simple prayers. In the time of Mary, England was Protest^ ant and France was Catholic, while Scotland was divided, though most of the people were Protestants. The two parties were very much excited against each other, and often persecuted each other with extreme cruelty. Sometimes the Protestants would break into the Catholic churches, and tear down and destroy the paint¬ ings and the images, and the other symbols of worship, all which the Catholics regarded with extreme veneration; this exasperated the Cath¬ olics, and when they became powerful in theii turn, they would seize the Protestants and im- prison them, and sometimes burn them to death, by tying them to a stake and piling fagots of wood about them, and then setting the heap on fire. Queen Mary’s mother was a Catholic, and for that reason the people of Scotland were not willing that she should be regent. There were one or two other persons, moreover, who claimed the office. One was a certain nobleman called the Earl of Arran. He was a Protestant Fh® ib Mary Queem of Scots. [1543 The regency. Arran regent Earl of Arran was the next heir to the crown, so that if Mary had died in her infancy, he would have been king. He thought that this was a reason why ht should be regent, and govern the kingdom until Mary became old enough to gcv. ern it herself. Many other persons, however, considered this rather a reason why he should not be regent; for they thought he would be naturally interested in wishing that Mary should not live, since if she died he would himself be¬ come king, and that therefore he would not be a safe protector for her. However, as the Earl of Arran was a Protestant, and as Mary’s moth¬ er was a Catholic, and as the Protestant inter- est was the strongest, it was at length decided that Arran should be the regent, and govern the country imtil Mary should be of age. It is a curious circumstance that Mary’s birth put an end to the war between England and Scotland, and that in a very singular way. The King of England had been fighting against Ma¬ ry’s father, James, for a long time, in order to conquer the country and annex it to England; and now that James was dead, and Mary had become queen, with Arran for the regent, it de¬ volved on Arran to carry on the war. But the King of England and his government, now that 1643.J MaKy’s Childhood. 19 Mew plan. End of the war. K.kig Henry Vm. the young queen was born, conceived of a new plan. The king had a little son. named Ed* ward, about four years old, who, of course, would become King of England in his place when he should himself die. Now he thought it would be best for him to conclude a peace with Scot¬ land, and agree with the Scottish government that, as soon as Mary was old enough, she should become Edward’s wife, and the two kingdoms be united in that way. The name of this King of England was Hen¬ ry the Eighth. He was a very headstrong and determined man. This, his plan, might have oeen a very good one; it was certainly much better than an attempt to get possession of Scot- -and by fighting for it; but he was very far from being as moderate and just as he should have been in the execution of his design. The first thing was to ascertain whether Mary was a strong and healthy child; for if he should make a treaty of peace, and give up all his plans of conquest, and then if Mary, after liv¬ ing feebly a few years, should die, all his plans would fail To satisfy him on this point, they actually had some of the infant’s clothes re¬ moved in the presence of his embassador, in or¬ der that the embassador might see that her form 20 Mary Queen op Scots. [1543 Janet Sinclair. King Henry*! demanda was perfect, and her limbs vigorous and strong, The nurse did this with great pride and pleas* ore, Mary’s mother standing by. The nurse’s name was Janet Sinclair. The embassador wrote back to Henry, the King of England, that little Mary was “ as goodly a child as he ever saw.” So King Henry VIH. was confirmed in his design of having her for the wife of his son , King Henry VIIL accordingly changed all his plans. He made a peace with the Earl of Ar¬ ran. Ho dismissed the prisoners that he had taken, and sent them home kindly. If he had been contented with kind and gentle measures like these, he might have succeeded in them, al¬ though there was, of course, a strong party in Scotland opposed to them. Mary’s mother was opposed to them, for she was a Catholic and a French lady, and she wished to have her daugh¬ ter become a Cathoho as she grew up, and mar¬ ry a French prince. All the Catholics in Scot¬ land took her side. Stdl Henry’s plans might have been accomplished, perhaps, if he had been moderate and conciliating in the efforts which he made to carry them into effect. But Henry VHI. was headstrong and obsti¬ nate. He demanded that Mary, since she was to be his son’s wife, should be given up to him 1643.J Marv’s Childhood 21 ObJeotioDj to them. PlatiBforMu7 to be taken into England, and educated there, under the care of persons whom he should ap¬ point. He also demanded that the Parliament of Scoi'Jand should let him have a large share In the government of Scotland, because he was going to be the father-in-law of the young queen. The Parliament would not agree to either of these plans; they were entirely unwilling to al* low their little queen to be carried off to another country, and put under the charge of so rough and rude a man. Then they were unwilling, too, to give him any share of the government during Mary’s minority. Both these measures were entirely inadmissible ; they would, if adopted, have put both the infant Queen of Scotland and the kingdom itself completely in the power of one who had always been their greatest enemy. Henry, finding that he could not induce the Scotch government to accede to these plans, gave them up at last, and made a treaty of marriage between his son and Mary, with the agreement that she might remain in Scotland until she was ten years old, and that then she should come tc England and be under his cara All this time, while these grand negotiations Were pending between two mighty nations about 22 Mary Q,ueen op Scots. [1543 Linlithgow. Plan of the palace her marriage, little Mary was unconseious of it all, sometimes reposing quietly in Janet Sin¬ clair’s arms, sometimes looking out of the win¬ dows of the Castle of Linlithgow to see the swans swim upon the lake, and sometimes, per¬ haps, creeping about upon the palace floor, where the earls and bar. ms who came to visit her moth¬ er, clad in armor of steel, looked upon her with pride and pleasure. The palace where she lived was beautifully situated, as has been before re¬ marked, on the borders of a lake. It was ar¬ ranged somewhat in the following manner: Plan of the Palace of Linlithgow rr. Bow-window projecting toward tlie water, d. Den whcro fliajr tatpi a lion. 1.1 Trees. 1543 .] Mary’s Childhood. 23 Fountain. The fion^a deo< There was a beautiful fountain in the center of the court-yard, where water spouted out from the mouths of carved images, and fell into mar* ble basins below. The ruins of this fountain and of the images remain there still. The den at d was a round pit, like a well, which you could look down into from above: it was about ten feet deep. They used to keep lions in such dens near the palaces and castles in those days. A lion in a den was a sort of plaything in form¬ er times, as a parrot or a pet lamb is now: this was in keeping with the fierce and warlike spirit of the age. If they had a lion there in Mary’s time, Janet often, doubtless, took her little charge out to see it, and let her throw down food to it from above. The den is there now. You ap¬ proach it upon the top of a broad embankment, which is as high as the depth of the den, so that the bottom of the den is level with the sur¬ face of the ground, which makes it always dry. There is a hole, too, at the bottom, through the wall, where they used to put the lion in. The foregoing plan of the buildings and grounds of Linlithgow is drawn as maps and plans usually are, the upper part toward the north. Of course the room o, where Mary was born, is on the western side. The adjoining 24 Mary Queen of Scots. [1543 Explanation of the engraving. The ooronatloo, engraving represents a view of the palace on this western side. The church is seen at tha right; and the lawn, where Janet used to taie Mary out to breathe the air, is in the foreground. The shore of the lake is very near, and winds beautifully around the margin of the promonto¬ ry on which the palace stands. Of course the lion’s den, and the ancient avenue of approach to the palace, are round upon the other side, and out of sight in this view. The approach to the palace, at the present day, is on the southern side, between the church and the trees on the right of the picture. Mary remained here at Linlithgow for a year or two; but when she was about nine months old, they concluded to have the great ceremony of the coronation performed, as she was by that time old enough to bear the journey to Stirling Castle, where the Scottish kings and queens were generally crowned. The coronation of a queen is an event which always excites a very deep and universal interest among all persons in the realm; and there is a peculiar interest felt when, as was the case in this instance, the queen to be crowned is an infant just o’d enough to bear the journey. There was a very great interest felt in Mary’s coronation. The differ Palace of Linlithgow—Q ueen Mary's P.iih plac* 1543.] Mary s Childhood. 27 etirling Castle. Its eituation. Rocky hill ent courts and monarchs of Europe sent embas¬ sadors to be present at the ceremony, and to pay their respects to the infant queen; and Stir* ling became, for the time being, the center of universal attraction. Stirling is in the very heart of Scotland. It is a castle, buUt upon a rock, or, rather, upon a rocky hill, which rises like an island out of tha midst of a vast region of beautiful and fertile country, rich and verdant beyond description. Beyond the confines of this region of beauty, dark mountains rise on all sides; and wherever you are, whether riding along the roads in the plain, or climbing the declivities of the mount¬ ains, you see Stirling Castle, from every point, capping its rocky hiQ, the center and ornament of the broad expanse of beauty which sur¬ rounds it. Stirling Castle is north of Linlithgow, and is distant about fifteen or twenty miles from it. The road to it lies not far from the shores of the Firth of Forth, a broad and beautiful sheet of water. The castle, as has been before remarked, was on the summit of a rocky hill. There are precipitous crags on three sides of the hill, and a gradual approach by a long ascent on the fourth sid^i. At the top of this ascent you enter the 28 Mary Queen of Scots, [154i> file ooronatiiii seen 3. Linlithgow and Stirling. great gates of the castle, crossing a broad and leep ditch by means of a draw-bridge. You snter then a series of paved courts, with tow- 8rs and walls around them, and finally come tt' the more interior edifices, where the private apartments are situated, and where the little queen was crowned. It was an occasion of great pomp and cere¬ mony, though Mary, of course, was unconscious of the meaning of it aU. She was surrounded by barons and earls, by embassadors and prin ces from foreign courts, and by the principa. lords and ladies of the Scottish nobility, all dressed in magnificent costumes. They held little Mary up, and a cardinal, that is, a great dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church, plac¬ ed the crown upon her head. Half pleased with the glittering show, and half frightened at the strange faces which she saw every where around her, she gazed unconsciously upon the scene, while her mother, who could better understand its import, was elated with pride and joy. Linlithgow and Stirling are in the open and cultivated part of Scotland. All the northern and western part of the country consists of vast masses of mou-itains, Avith dark and somber glens among them, which are occupied solely 1545.] Mary’s Childhood 29 The Highlands and the Highlanders. Rellgioaa disturbance* by shepherds and herdsmen with their flocks and herds. This mountainous region was call¬ ed the Highlands, and the inhabitants of it ■:Tere the Highlanders. They were a wild and war¬ like class of men, and their country was seldom visited by either friend or foe. At the present time there are beautiful roads aU through the Highlands, and stage-coaches and private car¬ riages roll over them every summer, to take tourists to see and admire the picturesque and beautiful scenery ; but in the days of Mary the whole region was gloomy and desolate, and al¬ most inaccessible. Mary remained in Linlithgow and Stirling for about two years, and then, a& the country was becoming more and more disturbed by the struggles of the great contending parties—those who were in favor of the Catholic religion and alliance with France on the one hand, and of those in favor of the Protestant religion and al- ianoe with England on the other hand—they Goncluded to send her into the Highlands foi safety. It was not far into the country of the High lands that they concluded to send her, but onlj into the borders of it. There was a small lake •n the southern margin of the wild and mount- 30 Mary Queen of Scots. [1546 i*«ka Mentelth. Mary’s companions. ’I'he four Maries ainous country, called the Lake of Menteith. In this lake was an island named Inchmahome, the word inch being the name for island in the language spoken by the Highlanders. This isl¬ and, which was situated in a very secluded and solitary region, was selected as Mary’s place of ' residence. She was about four years old when they sent her to this place. Several persona went with her to take care of her, and to teach her. In fact, every thing was pro/ided for her which could secure her improvement and hap¬ piness. Her mother did not forget that she would need playmates, and so she selected four little girls of about the same age with the little queen herself, and invited them to accompany her. They were daughters of the noblemen and high officers about the court. It is very singular that these girls were all named Mary Their names in full were as follows: Mary Beaton, Mary Fleming, Mary Livingstone, Mary Seaton. These, with Mary Stuart, which was Queea Mary’s name, made five girls of four or five years of age, all named Mary. Mary lived two years in this solitary islandi 1546.] Mary’s Childhoop, 31 Angry dispntea. Change of plan. Henry'a anger She had, however, all the comforts and conven¬ iences of life, and enjoyed herself with her four Maries very much. Of course she knew noth¬ ing, and thought nothing of the schemes and plans of the great governments for having her married, when she grew up, to the young En¬ glish prince, who was then a little boy of about her own age, nor of the angry disputes in Scotland to which this subject gave rise. It did give rise to very serious disputes. Mary’s mother did not like the plan at aU. As she was herself a French lady and a Catholic, she did not wish to have her daughter marry a prince who weis of the English royal family, and a Protestant. Ail the Catholics in Scot¬ land took her side. At length the Earl of Ar¬ ran, who was the regent, changed to that side; and finally the government, being thus brought over, gave notice to King Henry VIH. that the plan must be given up, as they had concluded, on the whole, that Mary should not marry his •on. Kin g Henry was very much incensed. He declared that Mary should marry his son, and he raised an army and sent it into Scotland to make war upon the Scotch again, and compel them to consent to the execution of the plan 32 Mary ^,UEt,N of Scots [1546 Heniyi lickneM and death. War renewe^t He was at this time beginning to be sick, but his sickness, instead of softening his temper, only made him the more ferocious and cruel He turned agaiast his best friends. He grew worse, and was evidently about to die; but he was so irritable and angry that for a long time no one dared to tell him of his approaching dis¬ solution, and he lay restless, and wretched, and agitated with political animosities upon his dy ing bed. At length some one ventured to tell him that his end was near. When he found that he must die, he resigned himself to his fate. He sent for an archbishop to como and see him, but he was speechless when the prelate came, and soon afterward expired. The English government, however, after his death, adhered to his plan of compelling the Scotch to make Mary the wife of his son. They sent an army into Scotland. A great battle was fought, and the Scotch were defeated. The battle was fought at a place not far from Edin¬ burgh, and near the sea. It was so near the sea that the English fired upon the Scotch army from their ships, and thus assisted their troops upon the shore. The armies had remained sev eral days near each other before coming to bat¬ tle, and during all this time the city of Edir J(548.1 Maby’s Childhood. 33 Danger in Edinburgh. Aid from France. New plan. burgh was in a state of great anxiety and sus¬ pense, as chey expected that their city would be attacked by the English if they should con¬ quer in the battle. The English army did, in fact, advance toward Edinburgh after the bat¬ tle was over, and would have got possession of it had it not been for the castle. There is a very strong castle in the very heart of Edin burgh, upon the summit of a rocky hill.* These attempts of the English to force the Scotch government to consent to Mary’s mai- riage only made them the more determined to prevent it. A great many who were not op posed to it before, became opposed to it now when they saw foreign armies in the country destroying the towns and murdering the people. They said they had no great objection to the match, but that they did not like the mode of wooing. They sent to France to ask the French king to send over an army to aid them, and promised him that if he would do so they would agree that Mary should marry his son. Ilia son’s name was Francis. The French king was very much pleased with this plan. He sent an army of six thou¬ sand men into Scotland to assist the Scctch * See the view of Edinburgh, page 179. 25—3 84 Mary (4,ueen of Scots. [154b Qolng to France. Dumbarton Castle. Rock of Dumbarton against their English enemies. It was arrang* ed, also, as little Mary was now hardly safe among all these commotions, even in her re¬ treat in the island of Inchmahome, to send hei to France to be educated there, and to live there until she was old enough to be married. The same sh.'ps which brought the army from Franco to Scotland, were to carry Mary and her reti¬ nue from Scotland to France. The four Maries went with her. They bade their lonely island farewell, and traveled south till they came to a strong castle on a high, rocky hdl, on the banks of the River Clyde. The name of this fortress is Dumbar¬ ton Castle. Almost aU the castles of those times were buUt upon precipitous hUls, to in¬ crease the difficulties of the enemies in ap¬ proaching them. The Roclt of Dumbarton is a very remarkable one. It stands close to the bank of the river. There are a great many ships and steam-boats continually passing up and down the Clyde, to and from the great city of Glasgow, and aU the passengers on board gaze with great interest, as they sail by, on the Rock of Dumbarton, with the castle walls on the sides, and the towers and battlements crown¬ ing the summit.* In Mary’s time there wan 1548.] Mary’s Childhood. 35 Joarney to Dumb&rtoD. TonrUu. River Clyd*. comparatively very little shipping on the river, but the French fleet was there, waiting oppo- «ite the castle to receive Mary and the numer¬ ous persons who were to go in her train.* Mary was escorted from the island where she aad been living, across the country to Dumbar¬ ton Castle, with a strong retinue. She was now between five and six years of age. She was, of course, too young to know any thing about the contentions and wars which had dis¬ tracted her country on her account, or to feel * Travelers who visit Scotland from this country at the present day, usually land first, at the close of the voyage across the Atlantic, at Liverj)ool, and there take a Glasgow steamer. Glasgow, which is the great commercial city of Scotland, is on the Biver Clyde. This river flows northwest to the sea. The steamer, in ascending the river, makes ite way with diflBculty along the narrow channel, which, be^ •ides being narrow and tortuous, is obstructed by boats, ships, steamers, and every other variety of water-craft, such as are always going to and fro in the neighborhood of any great commercial emporium. The tourists, who stand upon the deck gazing at this excit lug scene of life and motion, have their attention strongly at¬ tracted, about half way up the river, by this Castle of Dum¬ barton, which crowns a rocky hill, rising abruptly from the water's edge, on the north side of the stream. It attracts sometimes the more attention from American travelers, on ac¬ count of its being the first ancient cast.e they see. This is likely to be the case if they proceed to Scotland immediately on lanaing at Liverpool. S6 Mary Queen of Scots. [1548 The four Marie*. Departure from ScotluuL much interest in the subject of her approaching departure from her native land. She enjoyed the novelty of the scenes through which she passed on he.T journey. She was pleased with the dresses and the arms of the soldiers who ac¬ companied her, and with the ships which were floating in the river, beneath the walls of the Castle of Dumbarton, when she arrived there. She was pleased, too, to thmk that, wherever she was to go, her four Maries were to go with her. She bade her mother farewell, embarked on board the ship which was to receive her, and sailed away from her native land, not to return to it again for many years. 1548.] Her Education in France. 37 Departure. Stormy voyage; Chapter II. Her Education in France. rilHE departure of Mary from Scotland, lit- tie as she was, was a great event both for Scotland and for France. In those days kings and queens were even of greater relative im¬ portance than they are now, and all Scotland was interested in the young queen’s going away from them, and all France in expecting her arrival. She sailed down the Clyde, and then passed'along the seas and channels which lie between England and Ireland. These seas, though they look small upon the map, are real¬ ly spacious and wide, and are often greatly agi¬ tated by winds and storms. This was the case at the time Mary made her voyage. The days and nights were tempestuous and wild, and the ships had difficulty in keeping in each other’s company There was danger of being blown upon the coasts, or upon the rocks or islands which lie in the way. Mary was too young to give much heed to these dangers, but the lord# and commissioners, and the great ladies wh« 58 Mary Queen of Scots. [154S ioaraej to Paris. Release of prlsonersi went to attend her, were heeui;ily glad when the voyage was over. It ended safely at last, after eeveral days of tossing upon the stormy billows, oy their arrival upon the northern coast of France. They landed at a town called Brest, The King of France had made great prepara* tions for receiving the young queen immediate¬ ly upon her landing. Carriages and horses had been provided to convey herself and the com¬ pany of her attendants, by eatsy journeys, to Paris. They received her with great pomp and ceremony at every town which she passed through. One mark of respect which they showed her was very singular. The king or¬ dered that every prison which she passed in her route should be thrown open, and the prisoners set free. This fact is a striking illustration of the ditferent ideas which prevailed in those days, compared with those which are enter¬ tained now, in respect to crime and punish¬ ment. Crime is now considered as an offense against the community, and it would be con¬ sidered no favor to the community, but the re- rerse, to let imprisoned criminals go free. In those days, on the other hand, crimes were con¬ sidered rather as injuries committed by the oonununity, and against, the king; so that, if I54S.] Her Education in France. 39 Bvabbas. St Germain. Celebrationa the monarch wished to show the community a favor, he would do it by releasing such of them as had been imprisoned by his officers for their orimes. It was just so in the time of our Sa¬ vior, when the Jews had a custom of having some criminal released to them once a year, at the Passover, by the Roman government, as an act of favor. That is, the government was ac¬ customed to furnish, by way of contributing its share toward the general festivities of the occa¬ sion, the setting of a robber and a murderer at liberty! The King of France has several palaces in the neighborhood of Paris. Mary was taken to one of them, named St. Germain. This pal¬ ace, which still stands, is about twelve miles from Paris, toward the northwest. It is a very magnificent residence, and has been for many centuries a favorite resort of the French kings. Many of them were born in it. There are ex¬ tensive parks and gardens connected with it, and a great artificial forest, in which the trees were aU planted and cultivated like the trees ef an orchard. Mary was received at this pal¬ ace with great pomp and parade; and many spectacles and festivities were arranged to amuse her and the four Maries who accompanied her. 4U Mary Queen of Scots. [1549 The convent Character o' the nunt, and to impress her strongly with an idea of the wealth, and power, and splendor of the great oountry to which she had come. She remained here but a short time, and then It was arranged for her to go to a convent to be educated. Convents were in those days, as in fact they are now, quite famous as places of education. They were situated sometimes in large towns, and sometimes in secluded places in the country; but, whether in town or coun¬ try, the inmates of them were shut up very strictly from all intercourse with the world. They were under the care of nuns who had de¬ voted themselves for life to the service. These nuns were some of them unhappy persons, who were weary of the sorrows and sufferings of the world, and who were glad to retire from it to such a retreat as they fancied the convent would be. Others became nuns from conscientious principles of duty, thinking that they should connnend themselves to the favor of God by devoting their lives to works of benevolence and to the exercises of religion. Of course there were aU varieties of character among the nuns; some of them were selfish and (fisagreeable, others were benevolent and kind. At the convent where Mary was sent thera 1550J Her Edccation in France. 41 Interest in Mary. Leaving the convent were some nuns of very excellent and amiable character, and they took a great inteiest in Mary, both because she was a queen, and be- cause she was beautiful, and of a kind and affectionate disposition. Mary became veiy’ strongly attached to these nuns, and began to entertain the idea of becoming a nun herself, and spending her life with them in the con¬ vent. It seemed pleasant to her to live there in such a peaceful seclusion, in company with those who loved her, and whom she herself loved, but the King of France, and the Scottish no¬ bles who had come with her from Scotland, would, of course, be opposed to any such plan, They intended her to be married to the young prince, and to become one of the great ladies of the court, and to lead a life of magnificence and splendor. They l-ecame alarmed, there¬ fore, wh 3n they found that she was imbibing a taste for the life of seclusion and solitude which Ls led by a nun. They decided to take her im¬ mediately away. Mary bade farewell to the convent and its in- mates with much regret and many tears; but, notwithstanding her reluetance, she was obliged lo submit. If she had not been a queen, she might, perhaps, have had her own way As it 42 Mary Queen of Scots. [1550 Amusements. Visit of Mary’s mother was, however, she was obliged to leave the con¬ vent and the nuns whom she loved, and to go back to the palaces of the king, in which she afterward continued to live, sometimes in one and sometimes in another, for many years. Wherever she went, she was surrounded with scenes of great gayety and splendor. They wished to obliterate from her mind all recollec¬ tions of the convent, and aU love of solitude and seclusion. They did not neglect her stud¬ ies, but they filled up the intervals of study with all possible schemes of enjoyment and pleasure, to amuse and occupy her mind and the minds of her companions. Her companions were her own four Maries, and the two daughters of the French king. When Mary was about seven years of age, that is, after she had been two years in France, her mother formed a plan to come from Scot¬ land to see her. Her mother had remained be¬ hind when Mary left Scotland, as she had an important uart to perform in public affairs, and tn the administration of the government of Scot- jmd whUe Mary was away. She wanted, how¬ ever, to come and see her. France, too, was her own native land, and all her relations and irlends resided tliere. She wished to see them 1550.] Her EDacAxioN in France. 43 Queen donnger. Rouen. A happy meeting. as well as Mary, and to revisit once more the palaces and cities where her own early life had been spent. In speaking of Mary’s mother we ehall call her sometimes the queen dowager. Thf expression queen dowager is the one usu¬ ally applied to the widow of a king, as queen consort is used to denote the wife of a king. This visit of the queen dowager of Scotland to her little daughter in France was an event of great consequence, and all the arrangements for carrying it into effect were conducted with great pomp and ceremony. A large company attended her, with many of the Scottish lords and ladies among them. The King of France, too, went from Paris toward the French coast, to meet the party of visitors, taking little Mary and a large company of attendants with him. They went to Rouen, a large city not far from the coast, where they awaited the arrival of Mary’s mother, and where they received her with great ceremonies of parade and rejoicing I’he queen regent was very much delighted to see her little daughter again. She had grown two years older, and had improved greatly in every respect, and tears of joy came into her mother’s eyes as she clasped her in her anna. The two parties journeyed in company to Parin 44 Mary (c^ueen of Scots. [1550 Rejoicings. A last farewell Visit to a mourner and entered the city with great rejoicings. Tha two queens, mother and daughter, were the ob¬ jects of universal interest and attention. Feasts and celebrations without end were arranged for them, and every possible means of amusement and rejoicing were contrived in the palaces of Paris, of St. Germain’s, and of Fontainebleau. Mary’s mother remained in France about a year. She then bade Mary farewell, leaving her at Fontainebleau. This proved to be a final farewell, for she never saw her again. After taking leave of her daughter, the queen dowager went, before leaving France, to see her own mother, who was a widow, and who was living at a considerable distance from Paris La seclusion, and in a state of austere and melan¬ choly grief, on account of the loss of her hus¬ band. Instead of forgetting her sorrows, as she ought to have done, and returning calmly and peacefully to the duties and enjoyments of life, she had given herself up to inconsolable grief, and was doing all she could to perpetuate the mournful influence of her sorrows. She lived in an ancient and gloomy mansion, of vast size, and she had hung all the apartments in black, to make it still more desolate and gloomy, and to continue the influence of grief upon her mind 1550.] Her Education in France 45 Hie queen dowager*! retorm. l^e regency Here the queen dowager found her, spending her time in prayers and austerities of every kind, making herself and all her family perfect ly miserable. Many persons, at the present day, act, under such circumstances, on the same prin¬ ciple and with the same spirit, though they do not do it perhaps in precisely the same way. One would suppose that Mary’s mother would have preferred to remain in France with her daughter and her mother and all her family friends, instead of going back to Scotland, where she was, as it were, a foreigner and a stranger. The reason why she desired to go back was, that she wished to be made queen regent, and thus have the government of Scotland in her own hands. She would rather be queen re gent in Scotland than a simple queen mothet in France. While she was in France, she urged the king to use all his influence to have Arran resign his regency into her hands, and finally obtained writings from him and from Queen Maiy to this effect. She then left France and went to Scotland, going through England #n the way. The young King of England, to whom Mary had been engaged by the govern¬ ment when .she was an infant in Janet Sin¬ clair’s arms, renewed his proposals to the queen 46 Mary Quekn op Scots. [1550 A page of honor. Sir jBn.e< HoItIIIo dowager to let her daughter become his wife; but she told him that it was all settled that she was to be married to the French prince, and that it was now too late to change the plan. There was a young gentleman, about nineteen or twenty years of age, who came from Scot* land also, not far from this time, to wait upon Mary as her page of honor. A page is an at¬ tendant above the rank of an ordinary servant whose business it is to wait upon his mistress, to read to her, sometimes to convey her letters and notes, and to carry her commands to the other attendants who are beneath him in rank and whose business it is actually to perform the services which the lady requires. A page of honor is a young gentleman who sustains this office in a nominal and temporary manner for a princess or a queen. The name of Mary’s page of honor, who came to her now from Scotland, was Sir James Mel. ville. The only reason for mention mg him thui particularly, rather than the many other officer* and attendants by whom Mary was iurrounded was, that the service which he thus commenced was continued in various ways through the whole period of Mary’s life. We shall olten hear of him in tire subsequent parts of this nar* 1550.] Her Education in France. 47 Mary's character. Her dlllgeace. Devices and mottoea rative. He followed Mary to Scotland when she returned to that country, and became after¬ ward her secretary, and also her embassador on many occasions. He was now quite young, and when he landed at Brest he traveled slowly to Paris in the care of two Scotchmen, to whose charge he had been intrusted. He was a young man of uncommon talents and of great accom¬ plishments, and it was a mark of high distinc¬ tion for him to be appointed page of honor to the queen, although he was about nineteen years of age and she was but seven. After the queen regent’s return to Scotland, Mary went on improving in every respect more and more. She was diligent, industrious, and tractable. She took a great interest in hei studies. She was not only beautiful in person, and amiable and affectionate in heart, but she possessed a very intelligent and active mind, and she entered with a sort of quiet but earn¬ est enthusiasm into all the studies to which hei attention was called. She paid a great deal of attention to music, to poetry, and to drawing She used to invent little devices for seals, with /rench and Latin mottoes, and, after Ira wing them again and again with great care, until she was satisfied with the design, she would give 48 Mart Queen of Scots. [1550 Festrtitles. Water partie* them to the gem-engravers to be cut upon stone seals, so that she could seal her letters with them These mottoes and devices can not well be represented in English, as the force and beau« ty of them depended generally upon a double meaning in some word of French or Latin, which can not be preserved in the translation. We shall, however, give one of these seals, which she made just before she left France, to return to Scotland, when we come to that period of her history. The King of France, and the lords and ladies who came with Mary from Scotland, contrived a great many festivals and celebrations in the parks, and forests, and palaces, to amuse the queen and the four Maries who were with her The daughters of the French king joined, also, in these pleasures. They would have little balls, and parties, and pic-nics, sometimes in the open air, sometimes in the little summer-houses built upon the grounds attached to the palaces lire scenes of these festivities were in many cases made unusually joyous and gay by bun- fires and illuminations. They had water par¬ ties on the little lakes, and hunting parties through the parks and forests. Mary was a Tiry graceful and beautiful rider, and full of 1555.] Her Education in Fr ance. 4^ Hontliig. An accident Kestiiint courage. Sometimes she met with accident* which were attended with some danger. Once, while hunting the stag, and riding at full speed with a great company of ladies and gentlemen behind her and before her, her dress got caught by the bough of a tree, and she was pulled to the ground. The horse went on. Several oth¬ er riders drove by her without seeing her, as she had too much composure and fortitude to attract their attention by outcries and lamenta¬ tions. They saw her, however, at last, and came to her assistance. They brought back her horse, and, smoothing down her hair, which had fallen into confusion, she mounted again, and rode on after the stag as befoi’e. Notwithstanding all these means of enjoy¬ ment and diversion, Mary was subjected to a great deal of restraint. The rules of etiquette are very precise and very strictly enfoo’ced in royal households, and they were still more strict in those days than they are now. The king was very ceremonious in aU his arrangements, and was surrounled by a multitude of officers who performed every thing by rule. As Mary grew older, she was subjected to greater and greater restraint. She used to spend a consid¬ erable portion of every day in the apartment* 25—4 50 Mary Queen of Scots [1555 ‘4uoen CathBiine. Her character. Embroldeiry of Queen Catharine, the wife of the King of France and the mother of the little Francis to whom she was to be married. Mary and Queen C 'atharine did not, however, like each other very weU, Catharine was a woman of strong mind and of an imperious disposition; and it is sup¬ posed by some that she was jealous of Mary because she was more beautiful and accom¬ plished and more generally beloved than her owu daughters, the princesses of France. At any rate, she treated Mary in rather a stem and haughty manner, and it was thought that she would finally oppose her marriage to Fran¬ cis her son. And yet Mary was at first very much pleas¬ ed with Queen Catharine, and was accustomed to look up to her wdth great admiration, and to feel for her a very sincere regard. She often went into the queen’s apartments, where they sat together and talked, or worked upon their embroidery, which was a famous amusement far ladies of exalted rank in those days. Mary li3rself at one time worked a large piece, which she sent as a present to the nuns in the con¬ vent where she had resided; and afterward, in Scotland, she worked a great many things, vome of which stUl remain, and may be seen in 1555.] Her Education in France. 51 Mary’s admiration of Queen Catharine. The 'atter snspldooi her ancient rooms in the palace of Holyrood House. She learned this art by working with Queen Catharine in her apartments. When she first became acquainted with Catharine on these occasions, she used to love her society. She admired her talents and her conversational powers, and she liked very much to be in her room. She listened to all she said, watched her movements, and endeavored in all things to follow her example. Catharine, however, thought that this was all a pretense, and that Mary did not really like her, but only wished to make her believe that she did so in order to get favor, or to ac¬ complish some other selfish end. One day she asked her why she seemed to prefer her society to that of her youthful and more suitable com¬ panions. Mary replied, in substance, “ The reason was, that though with them she might enjoy much, she could learn nothing; while she always learned from Queen Catharine’s conver¬ sation something which would be of use to her t3 a guide in future life.” One would have thought that this answer would have p.eased the queen, but it did not. She did not believe that it was sincere. On one occasicn Mary seriously offended the 52 Mary Queen op Scots. [l556 Unguarded remark. Catharine's mortification. The dauphin queen by a remark which she made, and which was, at least, incautious. Kings and queens, and, m fact, all great people in Europe, pride themselves very much upon the antiquity of the line from which they have descended. Now the family of Queen Catharine had risen to ank and distinction within a moderate period; and though she was, as Queen of France, on the very pinnacle of human greatness, she would naturally be vexed at any remark which would remind her of the recentness of her elevation. Now Mary at one time said, in conversation in the presence of Queen Catharine, that she her¬ self was the descendant of a himdxed kings This was perhaps true, but it brought her into direct comparison with Catharine in a point in which the latter was greatly her inferior, and it vexed and mortified Catharine very much to have such a thing said to her by such a child. Mary associated thus during all this time, not only with the queen and the princesses, but also with the little prince whom she was des¬ tined to marry. His name was Francis, but he was commonly called the dauphin, which was the name by which the oldest son of the King of France was then, and has been since designated The origin of this custom was tbiis 1555.] Her Education in France. 53 Origin of the title. Character of PranclA About a hundred years before the time of which we are speaking, a certain nobleman of high ranli, who possessed estates in an ancient prov- ince of France called Dauphiny, lost his son and heir. He was overwhelmed with affliction at the loss, and finally bequeathed all his es¬ tates to the king and his successors, on condi¬ tion that the oldest son should bear the title of Dauphin. The grant was accepted, and the oldest son was accordingly so styled from that time forward, from generation to generation. The dauphin, Francis, was a weak and fee¬ ble child, but he was amiable and gentle in his manners, and Mary liked him. She met him often in their walks and rides, and she danced with him at the balls and parties given for her amusement. She knew that he was to be her husband as soon as she was old enough to be married, and he knew that she was to be his wife. It was aU decided, and nothing which either of them could say or do would have any influence on the result. Neither of them, how¬ ever, sesm to have had any desire to change the result. Mary pitied Francis on account of his feeble health, and liked his amiable and gentle disposition; and Francis could not help loving 54 Mary Queen op Scots. [1555 Maiy’i beauty. Torchlight prooeuJon. An utgel Mary, both on account of the traits of her ohar« acter and her personal charms. As Mary advanced in years, she grew very beautiful. In some of the great processions and eeremonies, the ladies were accustomed to walk, magnificently dressed and carrying torches in their hands. In one of these processions Mary was moving along with the rest, through a crowd of spectators, and the light from her torch feU upon her features and upon her hair in such a manner as to make her appear more beauti¬ ful than usual. A woman, standing there, pressed up nearer to her to view her more close¬ ly, and, seeing how beautiful she was, asked her if she was not an angel. In those days, however, people believed in what is miraculous and supernatural more easily than now, so that it was not very surprising that one should think, in such a case, that an angel from Heaven had come down to join in the procession. Mary grew up a Catholic, of course: all wore Catholics around her. The king and aU :ho royal family were devoted to Catholic observ¬ ances. The convent, the ceremonies, the daily religious observances enjoined upon her, the splendid churches which she frequented, eiU tended in their influence to lead her mind away 1506.J Her Education in France. 55 Blary a Cathollo. Her conBrientloiiBaess and AdeHtj from the Protestant religion which prevailed in her native land, and to make her a Cathoho: she remained so throughout her life. There is DO doubt that she was conscientious in her at¬ tachment to the forms and to the spirit of the Roman Church. At any rate, she was faithful to the ties which her early education imposed upon her, and this fidelity became afterward the source of some of her heaviest calamities «nd woes. 56 Mary Queen of Scots. [1558 Battening the wedding. Reasona fbr Chapter III The Great Wedding AT^THEN Mary was about fifteen years of ’ ' age, the King of France began to think that it was time for her to be married. It is true that she was still very young, but there were strong reasons for having the marriage take place at the earliest possible period, for fear that something might occur to prevent its consummation at all. In fact, there were very strong parties opposed to it altogether. The whole Protestant interest in Scotland were op¬ posed to it, and were continually contriving plans to defeat it. They thought that if Mary married a French prince, who was, of course, a Catholic, she vmuld become wedded to the Cath¬ olic interest hopelessly and forever. This made them feel a most bitter and determined oppo¬ sition to the plan. In fact, so bitter and relentless were the an- ' imosities that grew out of this question, that an attempt was actually made to poison Mary. The man who committed this crime w£is an archer in the king’s guard: he was a Scotch 1558.] The Great Wedding. 57 ittempt to poison Mary. The Guises. Catharine’s Jealonsy man, and his name was Stewart. His attempt was discovered in time tc prevent the accom- plistiment of his purpose. He was tried and cendenmed. They made every effort to induce him to explain the reason which led him to such an act, or, if he was employed by others, to re¬ veal their names ; but he would reveal nothing. He was executed for his crime, leaving man¬ kind to conjecture that his motive, or that of the persons who instigated him to the deed, was a desperate determination to save Scotland, at all hazards, from falling under the influence of papal power. Mary’s mother, the queen dowager of Scot¬ land, was of a celebrated French family, called the family of Guise. She is often, herself, called in history, Mary of Guise. There were other great families in France who were very jealous of the Guises, and envious of their influence and power. They opposed Queen Mary’s mar¬ riage to the dauphin, and were ready to do all in their power to thwart and defeat it. Queen Catharine, too, who seemed to feel a gi eater and greater degree of envy and jealousy against Mary as she saw her increasing in grace, beau ty, and influence with her advancing years, was suppo.sed to be averse to the marriage 68 Mary Queen op Scots. [1558 CommlKdonnra from Scotland. 1 . 62 Mary (^ueen of Scots. [1558 The betrothaL The Louvre. lie hall, and there, in the presence of a smad. and select assemblage of the lords and ladies of the court, and persons of distinction connected with the royal family, they were formally and solenudy to engage themselves to each other. Then, in about a week afterward, they were to be married, in the most public manner, in the great Cathedral Church of Notre Dame. The ceremony of the betrothal was celebrated in the palace. The palace then occupied by the royal family was the Louvre. It stUl stands, but is no longer a royal dwelling. An¬ other palace, more modern in its structure, and called the Tudleries, has since been built, a lit¬ tle farther from the heart of the city, and in a more pleasant situation. The Louvre is square, with an open court in the center. This open court or area is very large, and is paved like the streets. In fact, two great carriage ways pass through it, crossing each other at right angles in the center, and passing out under great arch-ways in the four sides of the build¬ ing There is a large hall within the palace, md in this hall the ceremony of the betrothal took place. F'ancis and Mary pledged their faith to each other with appropriate ceremoniea f)uly a select circle of relations and intimate 1558.] The Great Wedding. 63 N6tre Dame. View of the interior. friends wei e present on this occasion. The cere* mony was concluded in the evening with a balL In the mean time, all Paris was busy with preparations for the marriage. The Louvre is upon one side of the River Seine, its principa, front being toward the river, with a broad street between. There are no buildings, but only a parapet wall on the river side of the street, so that there is a fine view of the river and of the bridges which cross it, from the palace windows. Nearly opposite the Louvre is an island, cover¬ ed with edifices, and connected, by means of bridges, with either shore. The great church of Notre Dame, where the marriage ceremony was to be performed, is upon this island. It has two enormous square towers in front, which may be seen, rising above aU the roofs of the city, at a great distance in every direction. Before the church is a large open area, whore vast crowds assemble on any great occasion. The interior of the church impresses the mind with the sublimest emotions. Two rows of enormous columns rise to a great height on either hand, supporting the lofty arches of the roof. The floor is paved with great flat stones, and resounds continually with the footsteps of visitors, who walk to and fro, up and down the 64 Mary (c^^een of Scots. [1558 Amphitheater. Covered gallery. aisles, looking at the chapels, the monuments, the sculptures, the paintings, and the antiqt.fi and grotesque images and carvings. Colored light streams through the stained glass of the enormous window^s, and the tones of the organ, and the voices of the priests, chanting the ser¬ vice of the mass, are almost always resounding and echoing from the vaulted roof above. The words Notre Dame mean Our Lady, an expression by which the Roman Catholics de note Mary, the mother of Jesus. The church of Notre Dame had been for many centuries the vast cathedral church of Paris, where all great ceremonies of state were performed. On this occasion they erected a great amphitheater in the area before the church, which would accom¬ modate many thousands of the spectators who were to assemble, and enable them to see the procession. The bride and bridegroom, and their friends, were to assemble in the'bishop’s palace, which was near the Cathedral, and a covered gallery was erected, leading from this '>alace to the church, through which the brida, party were to enter. They lined this gallery throughout with purple velvet, and ornamented it in other ways, so as to make the approach to the cliurch through it inconceivably splendid. The procession. Mary's Ureas Crowds began to collect in the great amphi¬ theater early in the morning. The streets lead¬ ing to Notre Dame were thronged. Every win¬ dow in aU the lofty buildings around, and every balcony, was full. From ten to twelve the mil¬ itary bands began to arrive, and the long pro¬ cession was formed, the different parties being dressed in various picturesque costumes. The embassadors of various foreign potentates were present, each bearing their appropriate insig¬ nia. The legate of the pope, magnificently dressed, had an attendant bearing before him a cross of massive gold. The bridegroom, Fran¬ cis the dauphin, followed this legate, and soon afterward came Mary, accompanied by the king She was dressed in white. Her robe was em¬ broidered with the figure of the lily, and it glit¬ tered with diamonds and ornaments of silver As was the custom in those days, her dress formed a long train, which was borne by two young girls who walked behind her. She wore a diamond necklace, with a ring of immense value suspended from it, and upon her head was a golden coronet, enriched with diamonds and gems of inestimable value. But the dress and the diamonds which Mary wore were not the chief points of attraction 2 . 5—5 66 Marv Queen op !5cot&. il558 Appearance of Mary. Wedding ring the spectators. All who were present on the occasion agree in saying that she looked inex pressibly beautiful, and that there was an in¬ describable grace and charm in all her move¬ ments and manner, which filled all who saw her with an intoxication of delight. She was art¬ less and unaffected in her manners, and her countenance, the expression of which was gen¬ erally placid and calm, was lighted up with the animation and interest of the occasion, so as to make every body envy the dauphin the posses¬ sion of so beautiful a bride. Queen Catharine, and a long train of the ladies of the court, fol¬ lowed in the procession after Mary. Every body thought that she felt envious and ill at ease. The essential thing in the marriage ceremony was to be the putting of the wedding ring upon Mary’s finger, and the pronouncing of the nup¬ tial benediction which was immediately to fol low it. This ceremony was to be performed by the Archbishop of Rouen, who was at that time the greatest ecclesiastical dignitary in France, In order that as many persons as possible might witness this, it was arranged that it should be performed at the great door of the church, so aa to be in view of the immense throng which had 15u8 ] The Great Wedding. 67 Morezneat of the procession. Largest assembled in the amphitheater erected in the area, and of the multitudes which had taken their positions at the windows and balconies, and on the house-tops around. The procession, accordingly, having entered the church through the covered gallery, moved along the aisles and came to the great door. Here a royal pavilion had been erected, where the bridal party could stand in view of the whole assembled multi¬ tude. Kmg Henry had the ring. He gave it to the archbishop. The archbishop placed it upon Mary’s finger, and pronounced the benediction in a loud voice. The usual congratulations fol¬ lowed, and Mary greeted her husband imder the name of his majesty the King of Scotland. Then the whole mighty crowd rent the air with shouts and acclamations. It was the custom in those days, on such great public occasions as this, to scatter money among the crowd, that they might scramble for it. This was called the king’s largess ; and the largess was pompously proclaimed by her adds before the money was thrown. The throw¬ ing of the money among this immense throng produced a scene of indescribable confusion. The people precipitated themselves upon each other in their eagerness to seize the silver and 68 Mary (c^ueen op Scots. [1558 ConfoBion. The choir. Maw the gold. Some were trampled under foot. Some were stripped of their hats and cloaks, or had their clothes torn from them. Some faint¬ ed, and were borne out of the scene with infi* nite difficulty and danger. At last the people clamorously begged the officers to desist from throwing any more money, for fear that the most serious and fatal consequences might ensue. In the mean time, the bridal procession re¬ turned into the church, and, advancing up the center between the lofty columns, they came to a place called the choir, which is in the heart of the church, and is inclosed by screens of carved and sculptured work. It is in the choir that congregations assemble to be present at mass and other religious ceremonies. Mova¬ ble seats are placed here on ordinary occasions, but at the time of this wedding the place was fitted up with great splendor. Here mas.'- waa performed in the presence of the bridal party. Mass is a solemn ceremony conducted by tbs priests, in which they renew, or think they re¬ new, the sacrifice of Christ, accompanied with offerings of incense, and other acts of adoration, and the chanting of solemn hymns of praise. At the close of these services the procession 1558 ] The Great Wedding. 69 of the proccBsiozL Collation. Ball moved again down the church, and, issuing forth at the great entrance, it passed around upon a apacious platform, where it could be seen to ad- fantage by all the spectators. Mary was the center to which all eyes were turned. She moved along, the very picture of grace and beau¬ ty, the two young girls who followed her bear¬ ing her train. The procession, after completing its circuit, returned to the church, and thence, through the covered gallery, it moved back to the bishop’s palace. Here the company partook of a grand collation. After the collation there was a ball, but the ladies were too much em¬ barrassed with their magnificent dresses to be able to dance, and at five o’clock the royal fam¬ ily returned to their home. Mary and Queen Catharine went together in a sort of palanquin, borne by men, high officers of state walking on each side. The king and the dauphin followed on horseback, with a large company in their train; but the streets were every where so crowded with eager spectators that it was with extreme difficulty that they were able to make their way. The palace to which the party went to spend the evening was fitted up and illuminated in the most splendid manner, and a variety of most 70 Mary Queen of Scots. [1558 Eretiliig’s eDtertainmcntB. A toarnanuiit curious entertainments had been contrived for the amusement of the company. There wore twelve artificial horses, made to move by in¬ ternal mechanism, and splendidly caparisoned, The children of the company, the little princes and dukes, mounted these horses and rode around the arena. Then came in a company of men dressed like pilgrims, each of whom re¬ cited a poem written in honor of the occasion. After this was an exhibition of galleys, or boats, upon a little sea. These boats were large enough to bear up two persons. There were two seats in each, one of which was occupied by a young gentleman. As the boats advanced, one by one, each gentleman leaped to the shore, or to what represented the shore, and, going among the com¬ pany, selected a lady and bore her off to his boat, and then, seating her in the vacant chair, took his place by her side, and continued his voyage. Francis was in one of the boats, and he, on coming to the shore, took Mary for hi* companion. The celebrations and festivities of this famottt wedding continued for fifteen days. They closed with a grand tournament. A tournament was a very magnificent spectacle in those days. A field was inclosed, m which kings, and princes. 1558.] The Great Wedd»?jg. 71 Rank of the combatants. I ance* and knights, fnlly armed, and mounted on wa» horses, tilted against each other with lances and blunted swords. Ladies of high rank were pros' ent spectators and judges, and one was ap- pointed at each tournament to preside, and to dis¬ tribute the honors and rewards to those who were most successful in the contests. The great¬ est possible degree of deference and honor was paid to the ladies by all the knights on tliese occasions. Once, at a tournament in London, arranged by a king of England, the knights and noblemen rode in a long procession to the field, each led by a lady by means of a silver chain. It was a great honor to be admitted to a share in these contests, as none but persons of the high¬ est rank were allowed to take a part in them Whenever one was to be held, invitations were sent to all the courts of Europe, and kings, queens, and sovereign princes came to witness the spectacle. The horsemen who contended on these occa¬ sions carried long lances, blunt, indeed, at the end, so that they could not penetrate the armoff of the antagonist at which they were aimed, but yet of such weight that the momentum of the blow was sometimes sufficient to unhorse him The great object of every combatant waa 72 Mary Queeh of Scots. [1558 Rapid evolutiona. Toumer. Francis s feubleneea accordingly, to protect himself from this danger. He must turn his horse suddenly, and avoid the lance of his antagonist; or he must strike it with his own, and thus parry the blow; or if he must encounter it, he was to braee himself firm¬ ly in his saddle, and resist its impulse with all the strength that he could command. It re¬ quired, therefore, great strength and great dex¬ terity to excel in a tournament. In fact, the ra¬ pidity of the evolutions which it required gave origin to the name, the word tournament being formed from a French word* which signifies to turn. The princes and noblemen who were present at the wedding all joined in the tournament except the poor bridegroom, who was too weak and feeble in body, and too timid in mind, for any such rough and warlike exercises. Fran¬ cis was very plain and unprepossessing in coun¬ tenance, and shy and awkward in his manners. His health had always been very infirm, and though his rank was very high, as he was the heir apparent to what was then the greatest throne in Europe, every body thought that in all other respects he was unfit to he the hus- • Toornar. 1558.] The Gtreat Wedding, 7? Mary's love for him. He retires to the country band of such a beautiful and accomplished prin cess as Mary. He was timid, shy, and anxious and unhappy in disposition. He knew that the gay and warlike spirits around him could not look upon him with respect, and he felt a pain¬ ful sense of his inferiority. Mary, however, loved him. It was a love, perhaps, mingled with pity. She did not as¬ sume an air of superiority over him, but en¬ deavored to encourage him, to lead him for¬ ward, to inspire him with confidence and hope, and to make him feel his own strength and val¬ ue. She was herself of a sedate and thought¬ ful character, and with all her intellectual su¬ periority, she was characterized by that femi¬ nine gentleness of spirit, that disposition to fol¬ low and to yield rather than to govern, that de¬ sire to be led and to be loved rather than to lead and be admired, which constitute the high¬ est charm of woman. Francis was glad when the celebrationSy tournament and all, were well over. He set off from Paris with his young bride to one of his country residences, where he could live, for a while, in peace and quietness. Mary was re- leased, in some degree, from the restraints, and formalities, and rules of etiquette of King Hen- 74 Mary C^ueun of Scots. 1558 Bejolcings In Scotland. Mons Meg. Large baQ ry’s court, and was, to some extent, her own mistress, though stiU surrounded with many attendants, and much parade and splendor. The young couple thus commenced the short period of their married life. They were cer¬ tainly a very young couple, being both of them under sixteen. The rejoicings on account of the marriage were not confined to Paris. All Scotland cele¬ brated the event with much parade. The Cath olic party there were pleased with the final con¬ summation of the event, and all the people, in fact, joined, more or less, in commemora- ting the marriage of their queen. There is in the Castle of Edinburgh, on a lofty platform which overlooks a broad valley, a monstrous gun, several centuries old, which was formed of bars of iron secured by great iron hoops. The balls which this gun carried are more than a foot in diameter. The name of this enormous piece of ordnance is Mons Meg. It is now dis¬ abled, having been burst, many years ago, and injured beyond the possibility of repair There were great rejoicings in Edinburgh at the time of Mary’s marriage, and from some old accounts which still remain at the castle, it appears that ten shillings were paid to some men for moAong 1558.] The Great Wedding. 75 Celebration of Mary'a marriage. up Mods Meg to the embrasure of the battery, and for finding and bringing back her shot after »he was discharged; by which it appears that firing Mens Meg was a part of the celebration oy whio 1 the people of Edinburgh honored the marriage of their queen. 76 Mary Queen jf Scots. [1559, Itej** leve for FrancU. How to cherlih the paail» Chapter IV. Misfortunes. r T was said in the last chapter that Mar;y loved her husband, infirm and feeble as ha was both in body and in mind. This love was probably the effect, quite as much as it was the cause, of the kindness which she showed him. As we are very apt to hate those whom we have injured, so we almost instinctively love those who have in any way become the objects of our kindness and care. If any wife, therefore, wfish' es for the pleasure of loving her husband, or which is, perhaps, a better supposition, if any husband desires the happiness of loving his wife, conscious that it is a pleasure which he does not now enjoy, let him commence by making her the object of his kind attentions and care, and love will spring up in the heart as a oon« sequence of the kind of action of which it is more commonly the cause. About a year passed away, when at length another great celebration took place in Paris, tc boDAT the marriages of some other members of 1559 .] Misfortunes. 77 Orand tonmament. Heorj'i prUa. King Henry’s family. One of them was Fran- cb’s oldest sister. A grand tournament wm ^ ranged on this occasion too. The place for thl? tournament was where the great street of 8t Antoine now lies, and which may be found on aoy map of Paris. A very large concourse of kings and nobles from aU the courts of Eu¬ rope were present. King Henry, magnificently dressed, and mounted on a superb war-horse, was a very prominent figure in all the parades of the occasion, though the actual contests and trials of skill which took place were between younger princes and knights. King Henry and the ladies being generally only spectators and judges. He, however, took a part himself on one or two occasions, and received great ap¬ plause. At last, at the end of the third day, just as the tournament was to be closed, King Henry was riding around the field, greatly excited with the pride and pleasure which so magnificent a spectacle was calculated to awaken, when he saw two lances still remaining which had not been broken. The idea immediately seized him of making one more exhibition of his own power and dexterity in such contests. He took one of the lances, and, directing a higl officer who was 78 Mary Queen of Scots. [1559 in eneonnter. The helmet. The tIzoi riding near him to take the other, he challenged him to a trial of skiE. The name of this offi* oer was Montgomery. Montgomery at first de>^ olined, being unwiUing to contend with his king. The king insisted. Queen Catharine begged that he would not contend again. Accidents sometimes happened, she knew, in these rough encounters ; and, at any rate, it terrified her to see her husband exposed to such dangers. The other lords and ladies, and Francis and Queen Mary particularly, joined in these expostula* tions. But Henry was inflexible. There was no danger, and, smiling at their fears, he com¬ manded Montgomery to arm himself with his tance and take his position. The spectators looked on in breathless si¬ lence. The two horsemen rode toward each other, each pressing his horse forward to his utmost speed, and as they passed, each aimed his lance at the head and breast of the other. It was customary on such occasions to wear a helmet, with a part called a vizcr in front, which could be raised on ordinary occasions, or let down in moments of danger like this, to cover and protect the eyes. Of course this part of the armor was weaker than the rest, and it hap¬ pened that Montgomery’s lance struck here— 1559.J Misfortunes. 79 King Henry wounded. HU death. The moumfol marriage. was shivered—and a splinter of it penetrated the vizor and inflicted a wound upon Henry, on the head, just over the eye. Henry’s horse went on. The spectators observed that the rider reeled and trembled in his seat. The whole assembly were in consternation. The ex¬ citement of pride and pleasure was every where turned into extreme anxiety and alarm. They flocked about Henry’s horse, and helped the king to dismount. He said it was nothing. They took off his helmet, and found large drops of blood issuing from the wound. They bore him to his palace. He had the magnanimity to say that Montgomery must not be blamed for this result, as he was himself responsible for it entirely. He Lingered eleven days, and then died. This was in July, 1559. One of the marriages which this imfortunate tournament had been intended to celebrate, that of Elizabeth, the king’s daughter, had already taken place, having been performed a day or two before the king was wounded; and it was do« oided, after Henry was wounded, that the oth¬ er must proceed, as there were great reasons of state against any postponement of it. This sec¬ ond marriage was that of Margaret, his sister. The ceremony in her case was performed in ■ 80 Mary Queen of Scots. [1559. Tile daripUn becomes king. Catharine enpersedod, sJent and private manner, at night, by torch¬ light, in the chapel of the palace, while her broth er was dying. The services were interrupted by her sobs and tears. Notwithstanding the mental and bodily fee¬ bleness which seemed to characterize the daa- phin, Mary’s husband, who now, by the death of his father, became King of France, the event of his accession to the throne seemed to awaken his energies, and arouse him to animation and effort. He was sick himself, and in his bed, in a palace called the TourneUes, when some offi¬ cers of state were ushered into his apartment, and, kneeling before him, saluted him as king. This was the first, announcement of his father’s death. He sprang from his bed, exclaiming at once that he was weU. It is one of the sad con¬ sequences of hereditary greatness and power that a son must sometimes rejoice at the death of his father. It was Francis’s duty to repair at once to the royal palace of the Louvre, with Mary, who was now Queen of France as well as of Scot¬ land, to receive the homage of the various estates of the realm. Catherine was, of course, now queen dowager. Mary, the child whom she had so long looked upon with feelings of jeal- ^559.] Misfortunes. SI llarj’a gectlenees. Coronatioii of FrancliL ousy and envy was, from this time, to take her place as queen. It was very humiliating to Catharine to assume the position of a second and an inferior in the presence of one whom she had so long been accustomed to direct and to command. She yielded, however, with a good grace, though she seemed dejected and sad. As they were leaving the Tournelles, she stop¬ ped to let Mary go before her, saying, “ Pass on, mauame; it is your turn to take precedence flow.” Maiy went before her, but she stopped in her turn, with a sweetness of disposition so characteristic of her, to let Queen Catharine enter first into the carriage which awaited them at the door. Francis, though only sixteen, was entitled to assume the government himself. He went to Rheims, a town northeast of Paris, where is an abbey, which is the ancient place of coronation for the kings of France. Here he was crowned He appointed his ministers, and evinced, in his management and in his measures, more energy and decision than it was supposed he possessed. He himself and Mary were now, together, on the summit of earthly grandeur. They had many political troubles and cares which can not be related here, but Mery’s life was oom- ik)—6 82 Mary Queen of Scots. [1559 Fnncia'a health decUnea. Saperstlllon uf the people parati'/ely peaceful and happy, the pleasures which s'le enjoyed being greatly enhanced by the mutual affection which existed between her¬ self and her husband. Though he was small in stature, and very unprepossessing in appearance and manners, Francis still evinced in his government a con siderable degree of good judgment and of ener¬ gy. His health, however, gradually declined. He spent much of his time in traveling, and was often dejected and depressed. One circum¬ stance made him feel very unhappy. The peo¬ ple of many of the villages through which he passed, being in those days very ignorant and superstitious, got a rumor into circulation that the king’s malady was such that he could only be cured by being bathed in the blood of young children. They imagined that he was travel¬ ing to obtain such a bath; and, wherever he came, the people fled, mothers eagerly carry¬ ing off their children from this impending dan¬ ger The king did not understand the cause of his being thus shunned. They concealed it from him, knowing that it would give him pain. He knew only the fact, and it made him very sad to find himself the object of this mysteriouf end unaccountable aversion 1559.] Misfortunes. Ub Commotions in Scotland. Slcknoss of tha qaaan regaa^ In the mean time, while these ooourrenoes had been taking place in France, Mary’s moth¬ er, the queen dowager of Scotland, had been made queen regent of Scotland after her re¬ turn from France; but she experienced infinite trouble and difficulty in managing the affairs of the country. The Protestant party became very strong, and took up arms against her gov¬ ernment. The English sent them aid. She, on the other hand, with the Catholic interest to support her, defended her power as well as she could, and called for help from France to sus¬ tain her. And thus the country which she was so ambitious to govern, was involved by her management in the calamities and sorrows of civil war. In the midst of this contest she died. Dur¬ ing her last sickne.ss she sent for some of the leaders of the Protestant party, and did all that she could to soothe and conciliate their minds. She mourned the calamities and sufferings which the civil war had brought upon the country, and urged the Protestants to do all in their power, after her death, to heal these dis¬ sensions and restore peace. She also exhorted them to remember their obligations of loyalty and obedience to their absent queen, and to su» 84 Mary Queen of iScots. [1560 Death of Mary’s mother. Illness of Francis tain and strengthen her government by every means in their power. She died, and after her death the war was brought to a close by a treaty of peace, in which the French and Fin- giish governments joined with the government of Scotland to settle the points in dispute, ano immediately afterward the troops of both these nations were withdrawn. The death of the queen regent was supposed to have been caused by the pressure of anxiety which the cares of her government imposed. Her body was car¬ ried home to France, and interred in the royal abbey at Rheims. The death of Mary’s mother took place in the summer of 1560. The next December Mary was destined to meet with a much heavier af¬ fliction. Her husband. King Francis, in addi¬ tion to other complaints, had been suffering for some time from pain and disease in the ear One day, when he was preparing to go out hunt ing, he was suddenly seized with a fainting fit, nd was soon found to be in great danger. He oontinued some days very ill. He was con* »inoed himself that he could not recover, and began to make arrangements for his approach¬ ing end. As he drew near to the close of hu lifis, he was more and more deeply impressed I560.J Misfortunes 85 Hls l&st moments and death. Mary a young widow with a sense of Mary’s kindness and love. Ha mourned very much his approaching separation from her. He sent for his mother, Queen Cath- aiine, to come to his bedside, and begged that she would treat Mary kindly, for his sake, after he was gone. Mary was overwhelmed with grief at the ap¬ proaching death of her husband. She knew at once what a great change it would make in her condition. She would lose immediately her rank and station. Queen Catharine would again come into power, as queen regent, during the minority of the next heir. AU her friends of the family of Guise, would be removed from office, and she herself would become a mere guest and stranger in the land of which she had been the queen. But nothing could arrest the progress of the disease under which her hus band was sinking. He died, leaving Mary a disconsolate widow of seventeen. The historians of those days say that Queen Catharine was much pleased at the death of Francis her son. It restored her to rank and power. Mary was again beneath her, and in some degree subject to her will. All Mary’s friends were removed from their high stations, and others, hostile to her family, were pnt int« 86 \. > Mary Queen of Scots. [1560 EmbMBadors from SeotlancL Mary's unwillingnesa to leave Frano* their places. Mary soon found herself unhappy at court, and she accordingly removed to a cas¬ tle at a considerable distance from Paris to the west, near the city of Orleans. The people of Scotland wished her to return to her native land. Both the great parties sent embassadors to her to ask her to return, each of them urging her to adopt such measures on her arrival m Scotland as should favor their cause. Queen Catharine, too, who was still jealous of Mary’s influence, and of the admiration and love which her beauty and the loveliness of her character inspired, intimated to her that perhaps it would be better for her now to leave France and return to her own land. Mary was very unwilling to go. She loved France. She knew very little of Scotland. She was very young when she left it, and the few recollections which she had of the country were confined to the lonely island of Inchmahome and the Castle of Stirling. Scotland was in a oold and inhospitable cUmate, accessible only through stormy and dangerous seas, and it seem¬ ed to her that going there was going into exile Besides, she dreaded to undertake personally to administer a government whose cares and anx¬ ieties had been so great as to carry her mothei to the grave. 1560.J Misfortunes. 87 Mary In mourning. She i« celled the White Oneea. Mary, however, found that it was in vain fot her to resist the influences which pressed upon her the necessity of returning to her native land. She wandered about during the spring and sum* mer after her husband’s death, spending her time in various palaces and abbeys, and at length she began to prepare for her return to Scotland. The same gentleness and loveliness of character which she had exhibited in her prosperous fortimes, shone still more conspicm ously now in her hours of sorrow. Sometimes she appeared in public, in certain ceremonies of state. She was then dressed in mourning— in white—according to the custom in royal fam¬ ilies in those days, her dark hair covered by a delicate crape veil. Her beauty, softened and chastened by her sorrows, made a strong im¬ pression upon all who saw her. She appeared so frequently, and attracted so much attention in her white mourning, that she began to be known among the people as *he White Queen. Every body wanted to soe ner. They admired her beauty ; they were impress¬ ed with the romantic interest of her history; they pitied her sorrows. She mourned her hus- band’s death with deep and unaffected grief She invented a device and motto for a seal, ap- 88 Mary (cJ,ueen of Scots. llStfO A device. Mary's employraents Her beautifol band* propriate to the occasion : it was a figure of the liquorice-tree, every part of which is useless ex* oept the root, which, of course, lies beneath he Borface of the earth. Underneath was the inscription, in Latin, My treasure is in, iht ground. The expression is much more beau¬ tiful in the Latin than can be expressed in any English words.* Mary did not, however, give herself up to sullen and idle grief, but employed herself in various studies and pursuits, in order to soothe and solace her grief by useful occupation. She read Latin authors; she studied poetry; she composed. She paid much attention to music, and charmed those who were in her company by the sweet tones of her voice and her skillful performance upon an instrument. The histo’ rians even record a description of the fascina. ting effect produced by the graceful movements of her beautiful hand. Whatever she did or said seemed to carry with it an inexpressibk oharm. Before she set out on her return to Scotlanu she went to pay a visit to her grandmother, tha same lady whom her mother had gone to see In her castle, ten years before, on her return ta • Dulce meam terra tegit. 1560.) Misfortunes 89 Melaacboly visit Mary retnm* to Paris. Jealooaj Scotland after her visit to Mary. During thij ten years the unhappy mourner had made no ehange in respect to her symbols of grief. The ipartments of her palace were still hung with black. Her countenance wore the same ex¬ pression of austerity and woe. Her attendants were trained to pay to her every mark of the most profound deference in all their approaches to her. No sounds of gayety or pleasure were to be heard, but a profound stillness and solem¬ nity reigned continually throughout the gloomy mansion. Not long before the arrangements were com¬ pleted for Mary’s return to Scotland, she revis- ited Paris, where she was received with great marks of attention and honor. She was now eighteen or nineteen years of age, in the bloom of her beauty, and the monarch of a powerful kingdom, to which she was about to return, and many of the young princes of Europe began b-i aspire to the honor of her hand. Through these and other influences, she was the object of much attention ; while, on the other hand. Queen Catharine, and the party in power at the French court, were envious and jealous of her popular¬ ity, and did a great deal to mortify and vex her. The enemy, however, whom Mary had mosi 90 Mary Queen of Sccts, 11560 Queen Elizabeth. Her character. Benr; Vin to fear, was her cousin, Queen Elizabeth of En¬ gland. Queen Elizabeth was a maiden lady, now nearly thirty years of age. She was m all respects extremely different from Mary. She was a zealous Protestant, and very suspicious and watchful in respect to Mary, on account of her Catholic connections and faith. She was very pla,’n in person, and imprepossessing in manners. She was, however, intelligent and shrewd, and was governed by calculations and ^■*'licy in aU that she did. The people by whom he was surrounded admired her talents and .eared her power, but nobody loved her. She had many good qualities as a monarch, but none considered as a woman. Elizabeth was somewhat envious of her cous¬ in Mary’s beauty, and of her being such an ob- ect of interest and affection to all who knew her. But she had a far more serious and per- manent cause of alienation frorr her than per¬ sonal envy. It was this: Elizabeth’s father, King Henry VIII., had, in succession, several wives, and there had been a question raised about the legality of his marriage with Eliza¬ beth’s mother. Parliament decided at one time that this marriage was not valid; at another time, subsecpently, t'ney deeided that it was Portrait of Queen Elizabeth. 1560.J Misfortunes. 93 Enzabeth'a claim to the throne. Mary's claim. The ecat of uma. This dilTerenoe in the two decisions was not ownng so much to a change of sentiment in the persons who voted, as to a change in the ascend¬ ency of the parties by which the decision was controlled. If the marriage were valid, then Elizabeth was entitled hr the English crown. If it were not valid, then she was not entitled to it: it belonged to the next heir. Now it happened that Mary Queen of Scots was the next heir. Her grandmother on the father’s side was an English princess, and through her Mary had a just title to the crown, if Queen Elizabeth’s title was annulled. Now, while Mary was in France, during the lifetime of King Henry, Francis’s father, he and the members of the family of Guise ad¬ vanced Mary’s claim to the British crown, and denied that of Elizabeth. They made a coat of arms, in which the arms of France, and Scot¬ land, and England were combined, and had it engraved on Mary’s silver plate. On one great occasion, they had this symbol displayed con¬ spicuously over the gateway of a towm where Mary was making a public entry The En¬ glish embassador, who was present, made this, and the other acts of the same kind, knowm to Elizalicth, and she was greatly incensed at 94 Mary Queen of Scots. [1560 Elizabeth offended and alarmed. The Catholic part; them. She considered Mary as plotting trea¬ sonably against her power, and began to con* trive plans to circumvent and thwart her. Nor was Elizabeth wholly unreasonable in tiis Mary, though personally a gentle and peaceful woman, yet in her teens, was very formidable to Elizabeth as an opposing claim¬ ant of the crown. All the Catholics in France and in Scotland would naturally take Mary’s side. Then, besides this, there weis a large Catholic party in England, who would be strong¬ ly disposed to favor any plan which should give them a Catholic monarch. Elizabeth was. therefore, very justly alarmed at such a claiir: on the part of her cousin. It threatened not only to expose her to the aggressions of foreign foes, but also to internal commotions and dan¬ gers, in her own dominions. The chief responsibility for bringing forward this claim must rest undoubtedly, not on Mary herself, but on King Henry of France and the other French princes, who first put it forward Mary, however, herself, was not entirely pass¬ ive in the affair. She liked to consider her¬ self as entitled to the English crown. She had a device for a seal, a very favorite one with her, which expressed this claim. It contained two 1560.J Misfortunes 93 A device. Treaty of Edinburgh. Thf aafe-condocl crowns, with a motto in Lai in below which meant, “ A third awaits me.''’ Elizabeth knew all these things, and she held Mary accounta¬ ble fcr all the anxiety and alarm which this iangerous claim occasioned her. At the peace which was made in Scotland between the French and English forces and the Scotch, by the great treaty of Edinburgh w'hich has been already described, it was agreed that Mary should relinquish all claim to the crowu of England. This treaty was brought to France for Mary to ratify it, but she declined. What¬ ever rights she might have to the English crown, she refused to surrender them. Things remained in this state until the time arrived for her return to her native land, and then, fearing that perhaps Elizabeth might do something to intercept her passage, she applied to her for a safe-conduct; that is, a writing authorizing her to pass safely and without hinderance through tlie English dominions, whether land or sea. (^ucen Elizabeth returned w'ord through her embassador in Paris, whose name was Throck¬ morton, that she could not give her any such safe-conduct, because she had refused to ratify the treaty of Edinburgh. When this answer was communicated U 9(5 Mary C^uebn of Scots. [ 1561 . Elizabeth refuzes the aafe-conduct Maiy’e speech Mary, she felt deeply wounded by it. She sent all the attendants away, that she might express herself to Throckmorton without reserve. She told him that it seemed to her very hard that her cousin was disposed to prevent her return to her native land. As to her claim upon the English crown, she said that advancing it was not her plan, but that of her husband and his father; and that now she could not properly renounce it, whatever its validity might be, till she could have opportunity to return to Scot¬ land and consult with her government there, since it affected not her personally alone, but the public interests of Scotland. “ And now,” she continued, in substance, “ I am sorry that I asked such a favor of her. I have no need to ask it, for I am sire I have a right to return from France to my own country without ask- mg permission of any one You have often told me that the queen wished to be on friendly terms with me, and that it was your opinion that to be friends would be best for us both But now I see that she is not of your mind, nut is disposed to treat me in an imkind and unfriendly manner, while she knows that I am her equal in rank, though I do not pretend to ne her equal in abilities and experience. Well 1561.J Misfortunes. 97 Mary's true nobility of soul. Sympathy with her she may do as she pleases. If my preparation* tFere not so far advanced, perhaps I should give up the voyage But I am resolved to go. I hojie the winds will prove favorable, and carry me away from her shores. If they carry me apun them, and I fall into her hands, she may make what disposal of me she ■will. If I lose my life, I shall esteem it no great loss, for it is now little else than a burden.” How strongly this speech expresses “ that mixture of melancholy and dignity, of woman¬ ly softness and noble decision, which pervaded her character.” There is a sort of gentleness even in her anger, and a certain indescribable womanly charm in the workings of her mind, which cause all who read her story, while they can not but think that Elizabeth was right, to sympathize wholly with Mary. Throckmorton, at one of his conversations with Mary, took occasion to ask her respecting her religious views, as Elizabeth wished to know now far she was fixed and committed in her at¬ tachment to the Catholic faith. Mary said that she was born and had been brought up a Cath¬ olic, and that she should remain so as long as she lived. She would not interfere, she said, with her subjects adopting such form ol religion 25—7 98 Mary Qveen of ^“oots. [1561 Hary’a rellgloiu faifli. Bor fraaknea uiil eantal OS they might prefer, but for herself she should a(>t change. If she should change, she said, she should justly lose the confidence of her peo¬ ple ; for, if they saw that she was light and fickle on that subject, they could not re^y upor ner in respect to any other. She did not pro¬ fess to be able to argue, herself, the questions of difference, but she was not wholly uninform¬ ed in respect to them, as she had often heard the points discussed by learned men, and had found nothing to lead her to change her ground. It is impossible for any reader, wnether Prot¬ estant or Catholic, not to admire tne frankness and candor, the honest conscientiousness, the courage, and, at the same time, womanly mod¬ esty and propriety which characterize this reply K3 ® 99 1661.] Return to Scotland. Calal*. Aitlflcial piers and breakwatm Chaptbr V. Return to Scotland. M ary was to sail from the port of Calais. Calais is on the northern coast of France, opposite to Dover in England, these towns being on opposite sides of the Straits of Dover, where the channel between England and France is very narrow. StUl, the distance is so great that the land on either side is ordinarily not visible on the other There is no good natural harbor at Calais, nor, in fact, at any other point on the French coast. The French have had to supply the deficiency by artificial piers and breakwa¬ ters. There are several very capacious and ex- oellent harbors on the English side. This may have been one cause, among others, of the great naval superiority which England has attained. When Queen Elizabeth found that Mary was going to persevere in her intention of re¬ turning to her native land, she feared that she might, after her arrival in Scotland, and after get¬ ting established in power there, form a scheme 100 Mart Queen of Scots. [1561 Queen EUzabeth’i plan. Throc ta no rt on for making war upon her dominions, and at* tempt to carry into effect her claim upon tha .English crown. She wished to prevent this. Would it be prudent to intercept Mary upon her passage? She reflected on this subject with the cautious calculation which formed so strik¬ ing a part of her character, and felt in doubt. Her taking Mary a prisoner, and confining her a captive in her own land, might incense Queen Catharine, who was now regent of France, and also awaken a general resentment in Scotland, so as to bring upon her the hostility of those two countries, and thus, perhaps, make more mischief than the securing of Mary’s person would prevent. She accordingly, as a previous step, sent to Throckmorton, her embassador in France, di¬ recting him to have an interview with Queen Catharine, and ascertain how far she would feel disposed to take Mary’s part. Throckmorton did this. Queen Catharine gave no direot re¬ ply. She said that both herself and the young King wished well to Elizabeth, and to Mary to(>, that it was her desire that the two queens might be on good terms with each other; that she was a friend to them both, and should not take a part against either of them. 1561 .) Return to Scotland. 101 Elisabeth's plans. Throckmorton bafflod This was all that Queen Elizabeth could ex¬ pect, and she formed her plans for intercepting Mary on her passage. She sent to Throck¬ morton, asking him to find out, if he could, what port Queen Mary was to sail from, and to send her word. She then gave orders to her naval commanders to assemble as many ships as they could, and hold them in readiness to sail into the sea? between England and France, for the purpose of exterminating the pirates, which she said had lately become very numerous there. Throckmorton took occasion, in a conversa¬ tion which he had with Mary soon after this, to inquire from what port she intended to sail; but she did not give him the information. She suspected his motive, and merely said, in reply to his question, that she hoped the wind would prove favorable for carrying her away as far as possible from the English coast, whatever might be the point from which she should take her departure. Throckmorton then endeavored to find out the arrangements of the voyage by oth¬ er means, but without much success. He v rote to Elizabeth that he thought Mary would sail either from Havre or Calais; that she would go eastward, along the shore of the Continent, by Flanders and Holland, till she had gained a con- i02 Mary Queen of Soots. 11561 Throckmorton s advice. Queen Catnarine’s farewell. Escort siderable distance from the English coast, and then would sail north along the eastern shores of the German Ocean. He advised that Eliz« abeth should send spies to Calais and to Havre, and perhaps to other French ports, to watch there, and to let her know whenever they ob¬ served any appearances of preparations for Ma¬ ry’s departure. In the mean time, as the hour for Mary’s farewell to Paris and all its scenes of luxury and splendor, drew near, those who had loved her were drawn more closely to her in heart than ever, and those who had been envious and jeal¬ ous began to relent, and to look upon her with feelings of compassion and of kind regard Queen Catharine treated her with extreme kind¬ ness during the last few days of her stay, and she accompanied her for some distance on her journey, with every manifestation of sincere af fection and good will. She stopped, at length, at St. Germain, and there, with many tears, she bade her gentle daughter-in-law a long and last farewell. Many princes and nobles, especially of the family of Guise, Mary’s relatives, accompanied her through the whole journey. They formed quite a long cavalcade, and attracted great at- 1561.] Return to Scotland. lOS Gmbarksticm. Spcctaton. Unforttnate accldeni tention in all the towns and districts through which they passed. They traveled slowly, but at length arrived at Calais, where they waitca nearly a week to complete the arrangements for Mary’s embarkation. At length the day arrived for her to set sail. A large concourse of spectators assembled to witness the scene. Four ships had been provided for the transpor¬ tation of the party and their effects. Two of these were galleys. They were provided with banks of oars, and large crews of rowers, by means of which the vessels could be propelled when the wind failed. The two other vessels were merely vessels of burden, to carry the fur¬ niture and other effects of the passengers. Many of the queen’s friends were to accom¬ pany her to Scotland. The four Maries were among them. She bade those that were to re main behind farewell, and prepared to embark on board the royal galley. Her heart was very sad. Just at this time, a vessel which was com¬ ing in struck against the pier, in consequenoe of a heavy sea which was rolling in, and of the distraction of the seamen occasioned by Mary’s embarkation. The vessel which struck was so injured by the concussion that it filled imme¬ diately and sank Most of the seamen on board 104 Mary Queen of Scots. [1561 Mary’s farewell to Franco. Her deep emotion were drowned. This accident produced great excitement and confusion. Mary looked upon the scene from the deck of her vessel, which was now slowly moving from the shore. It alarmed her, and impressed her mind with a sad and mournful sense of the dangers of the elements to whose mercy she was now to be committed for many days. “ What an unhap¬ py omen is this!” she exclaimed. She then went to the stern of the ship, looked back at the shore, then knelt down, and, covering her face with her hands, sobbed aloud. “ Farewell, France !” she exclaimed: “ I shall never, never see thee more.” Presently, when her emotions for a moment subsided, she would raise her eyes, and take another view of the slowly-re- ceding shore, and then exclaim again, “ Fare¬ well, my beloved France! farewell! farewell!” She remained in this position, suffering this anguish, for five hours, when it began to grow dark, and she could no longer see the shore. She then rose, saying that her beloved country was gone from her sight forever. “ The dark* ness, like a thick veil, hides thee from my sight, and I shall see thee no more. So farewell, be* loved land! farewell forever !” She left her place at the stern, but she would not leave th« Makx a jbMBAKiiAiiuM Calais. 1561.T Return to Scotland. 107 Uaiy's first night on board. Her reluctance to leare Pnmca deck. She made them bring up a bed, and place it for her there, near the stern. They tried to induce her to go into the cabin, or at least to take some supper ; but she would not. She lay down upon her bed. She charged the helmsman to awaken her at the dawn, if the land was in sight when the dawn should ap¬ pear. She then wept herself to sleep During the night the air was calm, and the vessels in which Mary and her company .:.ad embarked made such small progress, being worked only by the oars, that the land came into view again with the gray light of the morn¬ ing. The helmsman awoke Mary, and the sight of the shore renewed her anguish and tears She said that she could not go. She wished that Elizabeth’s ships would come in sight, so as to compel her squadron to return. Eut no English fleet appeared. Or. the contrary, the breeze freshened. The sailors unfurled the sails, the oars were taken in, and the great crew of oarsmen rested from their toil. The ships began to make their way rapidly through the rippUng water. The land soon became a faint, low cloud in the horizon, and in an hour all traces of it entirely disappeared. The voyage continued for ten days. They 108 Marv' Queen of Scots. [l«56l Poi- One Tewel captured. Narrow eacapA saw nothing of Elizabeth’s cruisers. It waa afterward ascertained, however, that these ships were at one time very near to them, and were only prevented from seeing and taking them by a dense fog, which at that time hap¬ pened to cover the sea. One of the vessels of burden was seen and taken, and carried to En¬ gland. It contained, however, only some of Mary’s furniture and effects. She herself es¬ caped the danger. The fog, which was thus Mary’s protection at one time, was a source of great difficulty and danger at another; for, when they were draw¬ ing near to the place of their landing in Scot¬ land, they were enveloped in a fog so dense that they could scarcely see from one end of the ves- sel to the other. They stopped the progress of their vessels, and kept continually sounding; and when at length the fog cleared away, they found ihemselves involved in a labyrinth of rocks and shoals of the most dangerous char* icter. They made their escape at last, and went oix safely toward the land. Mary said, however, that she felt, at the time, entirely in¬ different as to the result. She was so discon¬ solate and wretched at having parted forever from all that was dear to her, that it seemef’ to 1561.] Return to Scotland. 109 Mary’s Adiea to France. Attempts to translate It her that she was equally willing to live or to die Mary, who, among her other accomplish men1;s, had a great deal of poetic talent, wrote some lines, called her Farewell to FTaace, which have been celebrated from that day to this. They are as follows: Adieu. Adieu, plaisant pays de France ! O ma patrie. La plus cherie; Qui a nourri ma jeune enfance. Adieu, France! adieu, mes beaux jours! La nef qui dejoint mes amours, N’a cy de moi que la moitie; Une parte te reste ; eUe est tienne ; Je la fie a ton amitie. Pour que de I’autre il te souvienne. Many persons have attempted to translate these lines into English verse ; but it is always extremely difficult to translate poetry from one language to another. We give here two of the best of these translations. ‘The reader can 'udge, by observing how different they are from each other, how different they mast both be from their common original. 110 Mary Queen of Scots. [1561 TranslatioDS of Mary’s Adieu to France. Adieu. Farewell to thee, thou pleasant shore, The loved, the cherished home to irr© Of infant joy, a dream that’s o’er, Farewell, dear France! farewell to thee! The sail that wafts me bears away From thee but half my soul alone; Its fellow half wlU fondly stay. And back to thee has faithful flown I trust it to thy gentle care; For aU that here remains with me Lives but to think of all that’s there, To love and to remember thee. The other translation is as follows: Adieu. Adieu, thou pleasant land of France! The dearest of all lands to me. Where life was like a joyful dance, The joyful dance of infancy. Farewell my childhood’s laughing wiles. Farewell the joys of youth’s bright day j The bark that takes me from thy smles, Bears but my meaner half away. 1561.J Return to Scotiand. IH Aniral at Leith. Palace of Holyrood. Mary's arriTal aneapecteiL The best is thine; my changeless heart Is given, beloved France, to thee ; And let it sometimes, though we part, Remind thee, with a sigh, of me. It was on the 19th of August, 1561, that the two galleys arrived at Leith. Leith is a small port on the shore of the Frith of Forth, about two mUes from Edinburgh, which is situated somewhat inland. The royal palace, where Mary was to reside, was called the Palace of Holyrood. It was, and is still, a large square building, with an open court in the center, into which there is access for carriages through a large arched passage-way in the center of the principal front of the building. In the rear, but connected with the palace, there was a chapel in Mary’s day, though it is now in ruins. The walls still remain, but the roof is gone. The people of Scotland were not expecting Mary Bt. soon. Information was communicated from country to country, in those days, slowly and with great difficult}^. Perhaps the time of Ma- ly’^’s departure from France was purposely con¬ cealed even from the Scotch, to avoid aU possi¬ bility that the knowledge of it should get int« Elizabeth’s possession. 112 Mary Queen of Scots. [15C1. Italy's receptiozL ContrastB. The ca?alcBdei At any rate, the first intelligence which the inhabitants of Edinburgh and the vicinity haJ of the arrival of their queen, was the approach of the galleys to the shore, and the firing of b royal salute from their guns. The Palace of Holyrood was not ready for Mary’s reception, and she had to remain a day at Leith, awaiting the necessary preparations. In the mean time, the whole population began to assemble to we.- come her arrival. Military bands were turne>? out; banners were prepared; civil and military officers in full costume assembled, and bon-fires and illuminations were provided for the evening and night. In a word, Mary’s subjects in Scot¬ land did all in their power to do honor to the occasion; but the preparations were so far be¬ neath the pomp and pageantry which she had been accustomed to in France, that she felt the contrast very keerdy, and realized, more forci¬ bly than ever, how great was the change which the circumstances of her life were undergoing. Horses were prepared for Mary and her large company of attendants, to ride from Ijcith to Edinburgh. The long cavalcade moved toward evening. The various professions and tradea of Edinburgh were drawn up in lines on each aide of the road, and thousands upon thousanda Palace of Holyhood, With Salisbury Crags and Arthur’s Seat in the Distance. 1561.] Return to Scotland. 115 Serenade. S« Jitary borne. Favorable imprefsloik of other spectators assembled to witness the scene When she reached the Palace of Holy rood House, a band of music played for a time under her windows, and then the great throng quietly dispersed, leaving Mary to her repose. The adjoining engraving represents the Palace of Holyrood as it now appears. In Mary’s day, the northern part only had been built—that is, the part on the left, in the view, where the ivy '.limbs about the windows—and the range ex- t mding back to the royal chapel, the ruins of which are seen in the rear.* Mary took up her abode in this dwelling, and was glad to rest from the fatigues and privations of her long voy¬ age ; but she found her new home a solitary and gloomy dwelling, compared with the mag nificent palaces of the land she had left. Mary made an extremely favorable impres* sion upon her subjects in Scotland To please them, she exchanged the white mourning if France, from which she had taken the name of the White Queen, for a black dress, morf; ac¬ cordant with the ideas and customs of her na¬ tive land. This gave her a more sedate and matronly character, and though the expression * For the sitaatioa of this palace in respect to Edinburgh, ■ee the view of Edinbui gh, page 179. 116 Mary Queen of Scots. [1561, The Lord James. Mary makes him one of her minlsteri. of her countenance and figure was somewhat changed by it, it was only a change to a new form of extreme and fascinating beauty. Hei manners, too, so graceful and easy, and yet so simple and unaffected, charmed aU who saw her. Mary had a half brother in Seotland, whose title was at this time the Lord James. He was afterward named the Earl of Murray, and is commonly known in history under this lattei designation. The mother of Lord James was not legally married to Mary’s father, and con¬ sequently he could not inherit any of his fa¬ ther’s rights to the Scottish crown. The Lord James was, however, a man of very high rank and inffuence, and Mary immediately received him into her service, and made him one of her highest ministers of state. He was now about thirty years of age, prudent, cautious, and wise, of good person and manners, but somewhat re¬ served and austere. Lord James had the general direction of af¬ fairs on Mary’s arrival, and things went ojj very smoothly for a week; but then, on the first Sunday after the landing, a very serious diificulty threatened to occur. The Catholics have a certain celebration, called the mass, to which they attach a very serious and solemn 1561.] Return lo Scotland. 117 The mafis. TransnbBtantlatloD importance. When our Savior ga\ e the bread to/' the wine to his disciples at the Last Sup- *er ho said of it, “ This is my body, broken for you/’ and “ This is my blood, shed for you.” The Catholics understand that these words de¬ note that the bread and wine did at that time, and that they do now, whenever the communion service is celebrated by a priest duly author¬ ized, becojie, by a sort of miraculous trans¬ formation, the true body and blood of Christ, and that the priest, in breaking the one and pouring out the other, is really and truly re newing the great sacrifice for sin made by Je¬ sus Chiist at his crucifixion. The mass, there¬ fore, in which the bread and the wine are so broken and poured out, becomes, in their view, not a mere service of prayer and praise to God, but a solemn act of sacrifice. The spectators; or assistants, as they call them, meaning all who are present on the occasion, stand by, not merely to hear words of adoration, in which they mentally join, as is the case in most Protestant forms of worship, but to witness the enactment of a deed, and one of great binding force and validity: a real and true sacrifice of Christ, made anew, as an atonement for their sins The bread, when consecrated, and. as they iup 118 Mary Queen of Suo’is. [1561 Adoratioo of the host. Protestant and Catholic worship pose, transmuted to the body of Christ, is held up to view, or carried in a procession around the church, that all present may bow before it, and adore it as really being, though in the form )f bread, the wounded and broken body of the Lord. Of course the celebration of the mass is in¬ vested, in the minds of all conscientious Cath¬ olics, with the utmost solemnity and import¬ ance. They stand silently by, with the deep¬ est feelings of reverence and awe, while the priest offers up for them, anew, the great sac¬ rifice for sin. They regard all Protestant wor¬ ship, which consists of mere exhortations to duty, hymns and prayers, as lifeless and void. That which is to them the soul, the essence, and substance of the whole, is wanting. On the other hand, the Protestants abhor the sacri¬ fice of the mass as gross superstition. They think that the bread remains simply bread after the benediction as much as before; that for the priests to pretend that in breaking it they re¬ new the sacrifice of Christ, is imposture; and that to bow before it in adoration and hcmage is the worst idolatry Now it happened that during Mary’s absence in France, the contest between the Catholic# 119 cC? 1561.] Return to Scotland. Violence and persecudon. The mass in Mary's chapel and the Protestants had been going fiercely on, and the result had been the almost complete lefeat of the Catholic party, and the establish- nient of the Protestant interest throughout the realm. A great many deeds of violence accom¬ panied this change. Churches and abbeys were sometimes sacked and destroyed. The images of saints, which the Catholics had put up, were pulled down and broken; and the people were sometimes worked up to phrensy against the principles of the Catholic faith and Catholic ob¬ servances. They abhorred the mass, and were determined that it should not be introduced again into Scotland. Queen Mary, knowing this state of things determined, on her arrival in Scotland, not t» interfere with her people in the exercise of their religion ; but she resolved to remain a Catholic herself, and to continue, for the use of her own household, in the royal chapel at Holyrood, the same Catholic observances to which she had been accustomed in France. She accordingly gave orders that mass should be celebrated in her chapel on the first Sunday after her arriv¬ al She was very willing to abstain from inter- fering with the religious usages of her subjects, but she was not willing to give up her cwn 120 Mary Queen of Scots [1501 Beene of excitement Lord Jnmex The friends of the Reformation had a meet¬ ing, and resolved that mass should not be cele brated. There was, however, no way of pre¬ renting it but by intimidation or violence WTien Sunday came, crowds began to assem¬ ble about the palace and the chapel,* and to fill all the avenues leading to them. The Cath¬ olic families who were going to attend the ser¬ vice were treated rudely as they passed. The priests they threatened with death. One, who carried a candle which was to be used in the ceremonies, was extremely terrified at their threats and imprecations. The excitement was very great, and would probably have pro¬ ceeded to violent extremities, had it not been for Lord James’s energy and courage. He was a Protestant, but he took his station at the door of the chapel, and, without saying or doing any thing to irritate the crowd without, he kept them at bay, while the service proceeded. It went on to the close, though greatly interrupt- «»d by the confusion and uproar. Many of the French people who came with Mary were sc terrified by this scene, that they declared they The rams of the royal chapel are to b« seen io the real «f the palace ib the riew on page 114. 121 1561.] Return to Scotland The reformer, John Knox. His uncompromising character would not stay in such a country, and took the first opportunity of returning to France. One of the most powerful and influential o*’ the leaders of the Protestant party at this time was the celebrated John Knox. He was a man of great powers cf mind and of commanding elo¬ quence ; and he had exerted a vast influence in arousing the people of Scotland to a feeling of strong abhorrence of what they considered the abominations of popery. When Queen Mary of England was upon the throne, Knox had written a book against her, and against queens in general, women having, according to his views, no right to govern. Knox was a man of the most stern and uncompromising charac¬ ter, who feared nothing, respected nothing, and submitted to no restraints in the blunt and plain discharge of what he considered his duty. Mary dreaded his influence and power. Knox had an interview with Mary not long after his arrival, and it is one of the most strik¬ ing instances of the strange ascendency which Mary’s extraordinary beauty and grace, and the pensive charm of her demeanor, exercised over all that came within her influence, that even John Knox, whom nothing else could soft¬ en or subdue, found hLs rough and indomitable 122 Mary Queen of 6cots. [15bl Knox 8 interview with Mary. Hia sternness subdued energy half forsaking hirri in the presence of his gentle queen. She expostulated with him. He half apologized. Nothing had ever drawn the least semblance of an apology from him be¬ fore. He told her that his book was aimed solely against Queen Mary of England, and not against her; that she had no cause to feai its influence; that, in respect to the freedom with which he had advanced his opinions and theories on the subjects of government and re¬ ligion, she need not be alarmed, for philoso¬ phers had always done this in every age, and yet had lived good citizens of the st>. bleman came to him one day and informed him of the necessity of this delay. He broke into a fit of passion, drew his dagger, rushed toward the nobleman, and attempted to stab him. He commenced his imperious and haughty course of procedure even before his marriage, and con¬ tinued it afterward, growing more and more violent as his ambition increased with an in¬ crease ot power. Marv felt these cruel acts of seLfishixoSS and pride very keenly, but, woman¬ like, she palliated and excused them, and loved him stdl. She had, however, other trials and cares press¬ ing upon her immediately. Murray and his confederates organized a formal and open re¬ bellion. Mary raised an army and took the field against them. The country generally took her side. A terrible and somewhat mo- kracted civil war ensued, but the rebels wer« finally defeated and driven out of the country. They went to England and claimed Elizabeth’s protection, saying that she had incited them U the revolt, and promised them her aid. Eliza 1566.] Mary and Lord Darnley. 145 Elizabeth’s treatment of the rebels. Mary’s generous conduct to Darnley both told them that it would not do for her to be supposed to have abetted a rebellion in her cousin Mary’s dominions, and that, unless they would, in the presence of the foreign embassa¬ dors at her court, disavow her having done so, she could not help them or countenance them in any way. The miserable men, being reduced to a hard extremity, made this disavowal. Eliz¬ abeth then said to them, “ Now you have told the truth. Neither I, nor any one else in my name, incited you against your queen; and your abominable treason may set an example to my own subjects to rebel against me. So get you gone out of my presence, miserable traitors as you are.” Thus Mary triumphed over all the obstacles to her marriage with the man she loved; but, alas! before the triumph was fully accomplish ed, the love was gone. Darnley was selfish, unfeeling, and incapable of requiting affection like Mary’s. He treated her with the most heartless indifference, though she had done ev¬ ery thing to awaken his gratitude and win hia love. She bestowed upon him every honor which it was in her power to grant. She gave him the title of king. She admitted him to share with her the powers and prerogatives of the 25—10 146 Marst Queen of Scots. [1566 The double throne. Damley’s cruel ingratituda crown. There is to this day, in Mary’s apart ments at Holyrood House, a double throne which she had made for herself and her hus band, with tlieir initials worked together in the embroidered covering, and each seat surmount¬ ed by a crown. Mankind have always felt a strong sentiment of indignation at the ingrati¬ tude which could ’•equite such love with sut h »elti8hne8.s and cruelty. 1561.J RI z z I o. 147 DlkTld Blzzio. Embassadors. Rizdo'i poaltlOB Chapter VII. Rizzio M ary had a secretary named David Riz¬ zio. He was from Savoy, a country among the Alps. It was the custom then, as it is now, for the various governments of Eu¬ rope to have embassadors at the courts of other governments, to attend to any negotiations, or to the transaction of any other business which might arise between their respective sovereigns These embassadors generally traveled with pomp and parade, taking sometimes many at tendants with them. The embassador from Savoy happened to bring with him to Scotland, in his train, this young man, Rizzio, in 1561, that is, just about the time that Mary herself returned to Scotland. He was a handsome and agreeable young man, but his rank and pf«ition were such that, for some years, he attracted iki attention. He was, however, quite a singer, and they used to bring him in sometimes to sing in 148 Mary QuEE^ of Scots. [1564 Blicio French eecretary. Displeasure of the Scotch nobles Mary’s presence, with three other singers His voice, being a gotd bass, made up the quar¬ tette. Mary saw him in this way, and as he was a good French and Italian scholar, and was amiable and intelligent, she gradually became somewhat interested in him. Mary had, a1 this time, among her other officers, a French secretary, who wrote for her, anu transacted such other business as required a knowledge of the French language. This French secretary went home, and Mary appointed Rizzio to take his place. The native Scotchmen in Mary’s court were naturally very jealous of the influence of these foreigners. They looked down wdth special contempt on Rizzio, considering him of mean rank and position, and wholly destitute of all claim to the office of confidential secretary to the queen. Rizzio increased the difficulty by not acting with the reserve and prudence which his delicate situation required. The nobles, proud of their own rank and importance, were very much displeased at the degree of intimao and confidence to which Mary admitted him They called him an intruder and an upstart When they came in and found him in conver¬ sation with the queen, or whenever he accoMted 1564 1 Rizzio. iiy Thfy Ueat Rk46(3LilcL pnn < 2 » * 3. ‘Z. 1564.] Rizzio 151 Rizxlo’fl religion. His serrlces to Mary French secretary; that he had nothing to do with the affairs of the government; that, conse- luently, his appointment and his office were her own private concern alone, and she should con¬ tinue to act according to her own pleasure in managing her own affairs, no matter who was displeEised by it. It is probable that the real ground of offense which the nobles had against Rizzio was jeal¬ ousy of his superior influence with the queen They, however, made his religion a great ground of complaint against him. He was a Catholic, and had come from a strong Catholic coimtry, having been born in the northern part of Italy. The Italian language was his mother tongue They professed to believe that he was a secret emissary of the pope, and was plotting with Mary to bring Scotland back under the papal dominion. In the mean time, Rizzio devoted himself with untiring zeal and fidelity to the service of the queen. He was indefatigable in his ef« Sirts to please her, and he made himself ex¬ tremely useful to her in a thousand different ways. In fact, his being the object of so much dislike and aversion on the part of others, m«ula him more and more exclusively deveted to th* 152 Marv' (ci,aEEN OF Scots [1565 Rlulo’a power and iadnence. Hii Intimacy with Mary queen, who seemed to be almost his only friend She, too, was urged, by what she considered the unreasonable and bitter hostility of which her Favorite was the object, to bestow upon hino greater and greater favors. In process of time, one after another of those about the court, find¬ ing that Rizzio’s influence and power were great and were increasing, began to treat him with respect, and to ask for his assistance in gaining their ends. Thus Rizzio found his position be¬ coming stronger, and the probability began to increase that he would at length triumph over the enemies who had set their faces so strongly against him. Though he had been at first inclined to fol¬ low Melville’s advice, yet he afterward feU in cordially with the policy of the queen, which v/as, to press boldly forward, and put down with a strong hand the hostility which had been ex cited against him. Instead, therefore, of at¬ tempting to conceal the degree of favor which enjoyed with the queen, he boasted of and displayed it. He would converse often and fa miliarly with her in public. He dressed mag- aihcently, like persons of the highest rank, and had many attendants. In a word, he assumed ■II the airs and manners of a person of high dis- 1565.1 RI z z I o. 153 RJzzio’s exertion in fhTor of the marriage. iUzzlo and Damle> tinction and commanding influence. The ex¬ terna] signs of hostility to him were thus put down, but the fires of hatred burned none t he less fiercely below, and only wanted an oppor¬ tunity to burst into an explosion. Things were in this state at the time of the ne¬ gotiations in respect to Darnley’s marriage; for, in order to take up the story of Rizzio from the beginning, we have been obliged to go back in oar narrative. Rizzio exerted all his influence in favor of the marriage, and thus bcth strength¬ ened his irifluence with Mary and made Darn- ley his friend. He did all in his power to di¬ minish the opposition to it, from whatever quar¬ ter it might come, and rendered essential serv¬ ice in the correspondence with France, and in the negotiations with the pope for obtaining the necessary dispensation. In a word, he did a great deal to promote the marriage, and to fa¬ cilitate all the arrangements for carrying it into effect. Darnley relied, therefore, upon Rizzio’s friend- I'nip and devotion to his service, forgetting that, m all these past efforts, Rizzio was acting out of regard to Mary’s wishes, and not to his own. /Vs long, therefore, as Mary and Darnley contin¬ ued to pursue the same objects and aims, Rizzio 154 Mary (^.ueen of Scots. [1566 Damle; greatly diallked. His oureasonable wlshe* was the common friend arid ally of both. The enemies of the marriage, however, disliked Riz- zio more than ever. As Darnley’s character developed itself grad- naUy after his marriage, every body began to dislike him also. He was unprincipled and vi* cious, as weU as imperious and proud. His friendship for Rizzio was another ground of dis¬ like to him. The ancient nobles, who had been accustomed to exercise the whole control in the public affairs of Scotland, found themselves sup¬ planted by this young Italian singer, and an English boy not yet out of his teens. They were exasperated beyond all bounds, but yet they contrived, for a whUe, to cxinceal and dis¬ semble their anger. It was not very long after the marriage of Mary and Darnley before they began to become alienated from each other. Mary’ did every thing for her husband which it was reasonable for him to expect her to do. She did, in fact, 11 that was in her power. But he was not sat- fied. She made him the sharer of her throne He wanted her to give up her place to him, and thus make him the sole possessor of it. He wanted what was called the crown matrimonial. 11x6 crown matrimonial denoted power witb 1666.] Rizzio. 155 The crown matrimotiiaL ^ DAmley*8 ambltloi^ wliich, according to the old Scottish law, the husband of a queen could be invested, enabling rim to exercise the royal prerogative in his own name, both during the life of the queen and llso after her death, during the continuance of his own life. This made him, in fact, a king for life, exalting him above his wife, the real sovereign, through whom alone he derived his powers. Now Darnley was very urgent to have the crown matrimonial conferred upon him He insisted upon it. He would not submit to any delay. Mary told him that this was something entirely beyond her power to grant. The crown matrimonial could only be bestowed by a sol¬ emn enactment of the Scottish Parliament, But Darnley, impatient and reckless, like a boy as he was, would not listen to any excuse, but teased and tormented Mary about the crown matrimonial continually. Besides the legal difficulties in the way of Vlary’s conferring these powers upon Darnley >y her own act, there were other difficulties, doubtless, in her mind, arising from the char- (titter of Darnley, and his unfitness, which wa» every day becoming more manifest, to be in¬ trusted with such power. Only four monthi i56 Mary Qleen of Scots. |156b Damley’a bruUUty. Signatures. Coins after his marriage, his rough and cruel treat¬ ment of Mary beeame intolerable. One day, a Iiouse in Edinburgh, where the king and Tjueen, and other persons of distinction had been invited to a banquet, Darnley, as was his cus tom, was beginning to drink very freely, and was trying to urge other persons there to drink to excess. Mary expostulated with him, en¬ deavoring to dissuade him from sueh a course. Darnley resented these kind cautions, and re¬ torted upon her in so violent and brutal a man¬ ner as to cause her to leave the room and the company in tears. When they were first married, Mary had caused her husband to be proclaimed king, and had taken some other similar steps to invest him with a share of her own power. But she soon found that in doing this she had gone to the ex¬ treme of propriety, and that, for the future, she must retreat rather than advance. According¬ ly, although he was associated with her in the supreme power, she thought it best to keep precfidence for her own name before his, in the exercise of power. On the coins which were struck, the inscription was, “ In the name of the Queen and King of Scotland.” In signing public documents, she insisted on having her 1566.] RI z z 1 u. 157 Rizzlo sidea with Mary. DairJey and Ruthven name recordt 1 first. These things irritated and provoked Darnley more and more. He was not contented to be admitted to a share of the sovereign power which the queen possessed in her own right alone. He wished to supplant her in it entirely. Rizzio, of course, took Queen Mary’s part in these questions. He opposed the grant of the crown matrimonial. He opposed all other plans for increasing or extending in any way Darnley’s power. Darnley was very much in¬ censed against him, and earnestly desired to find some way to effect his destruction. He communicated these feelings to a certain fierce and fearless nobleman named Ruthven, and a.‘ked his assistance to contrive some way to tj ke vengeance upon Rizzio. Ruthven was very much pleased to hear thns He belonged to a party of the lords of the court who also hated Rizzio, though they had hated Darnley besides so much that they had not com. municated to him their hostility to the othei Ruthven and his friends had not joined Mui* ray and the other rebels in opposing the mai riage of Darnley. They had chosen to acqui¬ esce in it, hoping to maintain an ascendenov pver Darnley, regarding him, as they did, as s 158 Mary Ic^ueew oi- Scots. [15t)6 1 comblnatieti. Tne secretary and his queen mere boy, and thus retain their power. When they found, however, that he was so headstrong and unmanageable, and that they could do nothing with him, they exerted all their influ* ence to have Murray and the other exiled lords pardoned and allowed to return, hoping to com- oine with them after their return, and then to¬ gether to make their power superior to that of Darnley and Rizzio. They considered Darn- ley and Rizzio both as their rivals and ene¬ mies. When they found, therefore, that Darn- ley was plotting Rizzio’s destruction, they felt a very strong as well as a very unexpected pleasure. Thus, among all the jealousies, and rivalries, and bitter animosities of which the court was at this time the scene, the only true and hon¬ est attachment of one heart to another seems to have been that of Mary to Rizzio. The secre¬ tary was faithful and devoted to queen, and the queen was grateful and kind to the secre. tary. There has been some question whethet this attachment was an innocent oi a guilt) one. A painting, still hanging in the {)rivatfl rooms which belonged to Mary in the palace a*. Holyrood, represents Rizzio as young and very handsome ; on ths other hand, some of the his- 1566.^ Rizzia 158 Katore of Mary*! attachment Plot to aaaassliiate Rlzzlo torians of the day, to disprove the possibility of any guilty attachment, say that he was rath¬ er old and ugly. We may ourselves, perhaps safely infer, that unless there were something specially repulsive in his appearance and man¬ ner, such a heart as Mary’s, repelled so roughly from the one whom it was her duty to love, could not well have resisted the temptation to seek a retreat and a refuge in the kind devot¬ edness of such a friend as Rizzio proved him¬ self to be to her. However this may be, Ruthven made such suggestions to Darnley as goaded him to mad¬ ness, and a scheme was soon formed for putting Rizzio to death. The plan, after being delib¬ erately matured in all its arrangements, was carried into effect in the following manner The event occurred early in the spring of 1566 less than a year after Mary’s marriage. Morton, who was one of the accomplices, as semb ed a large force of his followers, consist ing, it is said, of five hundred men, which he posted in the evening near the palace, and when it was dark he moved them silently into the central court of the palace, through the entrance E, as marked upon the ft llowing plan. 1<)0 Mary Queen of ISoots [15G6 PlftD of Holyrood H'nment after the overthrow of the murderei ’ of Rizzio, as she thus no longer needed Bothwcll’s imme¬ diate aid, she sent him to this bonier country to see if he could enforce some sort of order among its lawless population. The birth of Mary s son was an event of the greatest importance, not only to hf)r personally, but in respect to the political pronpects of the two great kingdoms, for in this infant were combined the claims of successiotj to both the Scotch and Englisli crowns. The whole woi 16 170 Mary Queen of Scots [1560 Birth of James. Its political Importance. Damlej's condu.it know that if Elizabeth should die without leav¬ ing a direct heir, this child would become the monarch both of England and Scotland, and, as such, one of the greatest personages m Europe. His birth, therefore, was a great event, and it was celebrated in Scotland with universal re¬ joicings. The tidings of it spread, as news of great public interest, aU over Europe. Even Elizabeth pretended to be pleased, and sent mes¬ sages of congratulation to Mary. But every one thought that they could see in her air and man¬ ner, when she received the intelligence, obvious traces of mortification and chagrin. Mary’s heart was filled, at first, with mater¬ nal pride and joy; but her happiness was soon sadly alloyed by Darnley’s continued unkind¬ ness. She traveled about during the autumn, from castle to castle, anxious and iU at ease Sometimes Darnley followed her, and some¬ times he amused himself with hunting, and with various vicious indulgences, at different towns and castles at a distance from her. He wanted her to dismiss her ministry and put him into power, and he took every possible means to importune or tease her into compliance with this plan. At one time he said he had resolved to leave Scotland, and go and reside in Franco 1566.] Bothwell. 17] Damley’a hypocriiy. Mary’s dejection and he pretended to make his preparations, and to be about to take his leave. He seems to have thought that Mary, though he knew that she ao longer loved him, would be distressed at the idea of being abandoned by one who was, after aU, her husband. Mary was, in fact, distressed at this proposal, and urged him not to go. He seemed determined, and took his leave. Instead of going to France, however, he only went to Stirling Castle. Darnley, finding that he could not accom¬ plish his aims by such methods as these, wrote, it is said, to the Catholic governments of Eu¬ rope, proposing that, if they would co-operate in putting him into power in Scotland, he would adopt efficient measures for changing the relig¬ ion of the country from the Protestant to the Catholic faith. He made, too, every effort to organize a party in his favor in Scotland, and tried to defeat and counteract the influence of Mary’s government by every means in his pow. ir. These things, and other trials and difficul- dee connected with them, weighed very heav- .ly upon Mary’s mind. She sunk gradually Into a state of great dejection and despondency She spent many hours in sighing and in tears, and often wished that she was in her grave. 172 Maky Q,ueen of Scots. [1566 A dlTorce proposed. Mary’s love for her child So deeply, in fact, was Mary plungea into distress and trouble by the state of things ex¬ isting between herself and Darnley, that some a* her officers of government began to conceive rf a plan of having her divorced from him. After looking at this subject in all its bearings, and consulting about it with each other, they ventured, at last, to propose it to Mary. She would not listen to any such plan. She did not think a divorce could be legally accom¬ plished. And then, if it were to be done, it would, she feared, in some way or other, affect the position and rights of the darling son who was now to her more than all the world be¬ sides. She would rather endure to the end of her days the tjTanny and torment she experi¬ enced from her brutal husband, than hazard in the least degree the future greatness and glory of the infant who was lying in his cradle be¬ fore her, equally unconscious of the grandeur which awaited him in future years, and of the strength of the maternal love which was smil¬ ing upon him from amid su(;h sorrow and tears, and extending over him such gentle, but determined and effectual protection. The sad and sorrowful feelings which Mary andured were inteiTupted for a little time b^ 1566.J Bothwklu 173 BaptUm of the Infmnt James’s titles. the splendid pageant of the baptism of the child. Embassadors came from all the importantcourts of the Continent to do honor to the occasion. Elizabeth sent the Earl of Bedford as her em¬ bassador, with a present of a baptismal font of gold, which had cost a sum equal to five thousand dollars. The baptism took place at Stirling, in December, with every possible accompaniment of pomp and parade, and was followed by many days of festivities and rejoicing. The whole country were interested in the event except Darnley, who declared suDenly, while the prep¬ arations were making, that he should not re¬ main to witness the ceremony, but should go off a day or two before the appointed time. The ceremony was performed in the chapeL The child was baptized under the names of “ Charles James, James Charles, Prince and Steward of Scotland, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Lord of the Isles, and Baron oi Ren¬ frew.” His subsequent designation in history was James Sixth of Scotland and First of En¬ gland. A great many appointments of attend¬ ants and officers, to be attached to the service of the young prince, were made immediately, most of them, )f course, mere matters of pa¬ rade. Among the rest, five ladies of distino- 174 Mary Queen of Scois. [15bb. The prince's cradle. Both well and Murray. tion were constituted “ rDckers of his cradle.” The form of the young prince’s cradle has come down to us in an ancient drawing. In due time after the coronation, the various embassadors and delegates returned to their re¬ spective courts, carrying back glowing accounts of the ceremonies and festivities attendant upon the christening, and of the grace, and beauty, and loveliness of the queen. In the mean time, Bothwell and Murray were competitors for the confidence and regard of the queen, and it began to seem probable that BothweU would win the day. Mary, in one of her excursions, was traveling in the southern part of the country, when she heard that he had been wounded in an encounter with a party of desperadoes near the border 1566.] 150THWELL. Ifary'B rislt to Both well. 175 Its probable motlTe Moved partly, perhaps, by compassion, and partly by gratitude for his services, Mary made an expedition across the country to paj him a visit. Some say that she was animated by a more powerful motive than either of these. In fact this, as well as almost all the other acts of Mary’s life, are presented in very different lights by her friends and her enemies. The former say that this visit to her lieutenant in his confinement from a wound received in her service was perfectly proper, both in the design itself, and in all the circumstances of its exe¬ cution. The latter represent it as an instance of highly indecorous eagerness on the part of a married lady to express to another man a sym¬ pathy and kind regard which she had ceased to feel for her husband. Jlothwell himself was married as well as Mary. He had been married but a few months to a beautiful lady a few years younger that the queen. The question, however, whcthei Mary did right or wrong in paying this visit tc him, is not, after all, a very important one. There is no doubt that she and Bothwell loved each other before they ought to have done so, and it is of comparatively little consequence when the attachment began Tlie end of it w 170 Mar^ Queen of Sccts. [1567 Plot for Darnley’s destruction. BothweU’s lntrigne» sertain. BothweU resolved to kill Darnley, to get divorced from his own wife, and to marry the queen. The world has never yet sott’ed the question whether she was herself his accom¬ plice or not in the measures he adopted for ef¬ fecting these plans, or whether she only sub¬ mitted to the result when BothweU, by his own unaided efforts, reached it. Each reader must judge of this question for himself from the facts about to be narrated. BothweU first communicated with the nobles about the court, to get their consent and ap¬ probation to the destruction of the king. They all appeared to be very wiUing to have the thing done, but were a Uttle cautious about involv¬ ing themselves in the responsibUity of doing it. Darnley was thoroughly hated, despised, and shunned by them aU. StiU they were afraid of the consequences of taking his life. One of them, Morton, asked BothweU what the queer would think of the plan. BothweU said that the queen approved of it. Morton repUed, that if BothweU would show him an expression of the queen’s approval of the plot, in her ovm hand-writing, he would join it, otherwise not. BothweU faUed to furnish this evidence, saying that the queen was reaUy privy to, and in favoi 1567.] Bothwell. 177 Desperate Bcbeiues attributed to Damley. His Ulziess. Mary*ti visit, of the plan, but that it was not to be expected that she would commit herself to it in writing Was this all true, or was the pretense only g desperate measure of Bothwell’s to induce Mor¬ ton to join him ? Most of the leading men about the court, however, either joined the plot, or so far gave it their countenance and encouragement as i« mduce Bothwell to proceed. There were many ind strange rumors about Darnley. One was, that he was actually going to leave the coun¬ try, and that a ship was ready for him in the Clyde. Another was, that he had a plan for seizing the young prince, dethroning Mary, and reigning himself in her stead, in the prince’s name. Other strange and desperate schemes were attributed to him. In the midst of them, news came to Mary at Holyrood that he was taken suddenly and dangerously sick at Glas¬ gow, where he was then residing, and she im¬ mediately went to see him. Was her motive a desire to make one more attempt to win his confidence and love, and to divert him from the desperate measures which she feared he was con¬ templating, or was she acting as an accomplice with Bothwell, to draw him into the snare in which he was afterward taken and destroyed ? 25—12 178 Mary Queen of Scots. [1&67 Retnni to Edinburgh. Situation of Damley't lesldenoa The result of Mary’s visit to her husband, after some time spent with him in Glasgow, was a proposal that he should return with her to Edinburgh, where she oould watch over him during his convalescence with greater care. This plan was adopted. He was conveyed on a sort of litter, by very slow and easy stages, toward Edinburgh. He was on such terms with the nobles and lords in attendance upon Mary that he was not willing to go to Holy- rood House. Besides, his disorder was conta¬ gious : it is supposed to have been the small¬ pox ; and though he was nearly recovered, there was stm some possibility that the royal babe might take the infection if the patient came within the same walls with him. So Mary sent forward to Edinburgh to have a house provided for him. The situation of this house is seen near the citj wall on the left, in the accompanying view of Edinburgh. Holyrood House is the large square edifice in the fore-ground, and the castle crowns the hill in the distance. There is now, as there was in the days of Mary, a famous street ex¬ tending from Holyrood House to the castie, caU- ed the Cannon Gate at the lower end, and tfig High Street above. This street, with the oae- View of Edinbvugh 1567.] Bothwell. 181 Urk of Field. Description of Damlej’s resldenca tie at one extremity and Holyrood House at the other, were the scenes of many of the most remarkable events described in this nar^ rative. The residence selected was a house of fom rooms, close upon the city wall. The place was called the Kirk of Field, from a kirk, or church, which formerly stood near there, in the fields. This house had two rooms upon the lower door, with a passage-way between them. One of these rooms was a kitchen ; the other was appropriated to Mary’s use, whenever she was able to be at the place in attendance upon her husband. Over the kitchen was a room used as a wardrobe and for servants ; and over Ma¬ ry’s room was the apartment for Darnley There was an opening through the city wall in the rear of this dwelling, by which there was access to the kitchen. These premises were fitted up for Darnley in the most thorough man¬ ner. A bath was arranged for him in his apart¬ ment, and every thing was done which could conduce to his comfort, according to the ideas which then prevailed. Darnley was brought to Edinburgh, conveyed to this house, and quietly established there. 182 Mary (c^ueen of Scots. [1567 Plan of Damlcy’s house. Itb accommodations The following is a plan of the house in which Diimiey was lodged: Laoe M. Mny’s room, below Darnley's. K. Kitchen; servants’ room above o Passage through the city wall into the kitchen. S. Stair-case leadinf lo the second story. P. Passage-way. The accommodations in this house do not leem to have been very sumptuous, after all, 'or a royal guest; but royal dwellings in Scot- and, in those days, were not what they are now c Westminster and at St. Cloud. The day for the execution of the plan, which was, to blow up the house where the sick Dam- lev was lying with gunpowder, approached 1567.] B 0 T H W E L L. 183 French Faria. The gunpowder. A weddlnn Bothwell selected a number of desperate char¬ acters to aid him in the actual work to be done. One of these was a Frenchman, who had been for a long time in his service, and who went oommonly by the name of French Paris. Both¬ well contrived to get French Paris taken into Mary’s service a few days before the murder of Darnley, and, through him, he got possession of some of the keys of the house which Darnley was occupying, and thus had duplicates of them made, so that he had access to every part of ■ he house. The gunpowder was brought from Bothwell’s castle at Dunbar, and all was ready Mary spent much of her time at Darnley’s house, and often slept in the room beneath his, which had been allotted to her as her apart¬ ment. One Sunday there was to be a wedding it Holyrood. The bride and bridegroom were favorite servants of Mary’s, and she was intend¬ ing to be prc! ent at the celebration of the nup¬ tials. She was to lea/e Darnley’s early in the svening for this purpose. Her enemies say tliat this was all a concerted arrangement be- tween her and Bothwell to give him the oppor' tunity to execute his plan. Her friends, on the other hand, insist that she knew nothing about it, and that B(jthv'ell had to watch and wa't for 184 Mary Queen uf JScots. 'x5b7 DetallB of plot. The powder placed In Mary’s room such an opportunity of blowing up the house without injuring Mary. Be this as it may, the Sunday of this wedding was fixed upon for the consummation of t ae deed. The gunpowder had been secreted in Both weU’s rooms at the palace. On Sunday even¬ ing, as soon as it was dark, Bothwell set the men at work to transport the gunpowder. They brought it out in bags from the palace, and then employed a horse to transport it to the wall of some gardens which were in the rear of Darn- ley’s house. They had to go twice with the horse in order to convey aU the gunpowder that they had provided. While this was going on, Bothwell, who kept out uf sight, was walking to and fro in an adjoining street, to receive in¬ telligence, from time to time, of the progress of the affair, and to issue orders. The gunpow¬ der was conveyed across the gardens to the rear of the house, taken in at a back door, and de¬ posited in the room marked M in the plan, which was the room belonging to Mary Mary was all this time directly over head, in Darnlevh chamber. The plan of the conspirators was to put the bags of gunpowder into a cask which they had provided for the occasion, to keep the mass to 1567.] Both WELL. 185 The big cask. Bothwell’s ctfrontery. Mary’s leave of Darnlej. gether, and increase the force the explosion The cask had been provided, and placed in the gardens behind the hou«e ; but, on attempting tc take it into the house, they found it too big to pass through the back door. This caused con* giderable delay; and Bothwell, growing impa¬ tient, came, with his characteristic impetuos¬ ity, to ascertain the cause. By his presence and his energy, he soon remedied the difficulty in some way or other, and completed the ar¬ rangements. The gunpowder was all deposit¬ ed ; the men were dismissed, except two who were left to watch, and who were locked up with the gunpowder in Mary’s room ; and then, all things being ready for the explosion as soon as Mary should be gone, Bothwell walked up to Darnley’s room above, and joined the party who were supping there. The cool effrontery of this proceeding has scarcely a parallel in the annals of crime. At eleven o’clock Mary rose to go, saying she must return to the palace to take part, as she had promised to do, in the celebration of her servants’ wedding. Mary took leave of hei husband in a very affectionate manner, and went away in company with Bothwell and the other Qobles. Her enemies maintain that she waa iHG Mary Queen df IScots. [1567 Was Mary privy to the plot ? Anecdotes of Mary privy to all the arrangements which had been made, and that she did not go into her own apartment below, knowing very well what Wa.« there. But even if we imagine that Mary wa,» aware of the general plan of destroying her hus- Daud, and was secretly pleased with it, as al* most any royal personage that ever lived, under such circumstances, would be, we need not ad¬ mit that she was acquainted with the details of the mode by which the plan was to be put in execution. The most that we can suppose such a man as Bothwell would have communicated to her, would be some dark and obscure inti¬ mations of his design, made in order to satisfy himself that she would not really oppose it. To ask her, woman as she was, to take any part in such a deed, or to communicate to her be¬ forehand any of the details of the arrangement, would have been an act of littleness and mean¬ ness which such magnanimous monsters as Both- well are seldom guilty of. Besides, Mary remarked that evening, in Darnley’s room, in the course of conversation, that it was just about a year since Rizzio’a death. On entering her palace, too, at Holy* rood, that night, she met one of Bothwell’s serv ants who had been carrying the bags, and, per 1567.J Bothwell. 187 Retarn to Holyrood French Paris falters eeiving the smell of gunpowder, she asked him what it meant. Now Mary was not the bra* zen-faced sort of woman to speak of such thinga at such a time if she was really in the councils of the conspirators. The only question seems to be, therefore, not whether she was a party to the actual deed of murder, but oaiy whether she was aware of, and consenting to, the gen¬ eral design. In the mean time, Mary and Bothwell went together into the hall where the servants were rejoicing and making merry at the wedding. French Paris was there, but his heart began to fail him in respect to the deed in which he hail been engaged. He stood apart, with a coun¬ tenance expressive of anxiety and distress. Bothwell went to him, and told him that if he carried such a melancholy face as that any lon¬ ger in the presence of the queen, he would make him suffer for it. The poor conscience-stricken man begged Bothwell to release him from any further part in the transaction. He was sick, really sick, he said, and he wanted to go home to his bed. Bothwell made no reply but to or¬ der him to follow him. Bothwell went to iLs own rooms, changed the silken court dress in which he had appeared in company for one suit' Ly8 Mart Queen of Scots. [1567 The convent gardens. Laying the train able to the night and to the deed, directed his men to follow him, and passed from the palace wward the gates of the city. The gates were shut, for it was midnight. The sentinels chal* .enged them. The party said they were friends to my Lord Bothwell, and were allowed to pass on. They advanced to the convent gardens, Here they left a part of their number, while Bothwell and French Paris passed over the wall, and crept softly into the house. They unlocked the room where they had left the two watchmen with the gunpowder, and found all safe. Men locked up under such circumstan¬ ces, and on the eve of the perpetration of such a deed, were not likely to sleep at their posts. All things being now ready, they made a slow match of lint, long enough to burn for some little time, and inserting one end of it mto the gunpowder, they lighted the other end, and crept stealthily out of the apartment. They passed over the wall into the convent gardens, where they rejoined their companions and await¬ ed the result. Men choose midnight often for the perpetra¬ tion of crime, from the facilities afforded by its silence and solitude. This advantage is, how- 1567.’ BoTHW SLL. 189 CTupense. The explosion. Flight .sf the criminalft ever, sometimes well-nigh balanced by the stim¬ ulus which its mysterious solemnity brings to the stings of remorse and terror. Bothwel. himself felt anxious and agitated. They waib- sd and waited, but it seemed as if their dread¬ ful suspense would never end. Both well be¬ came desperate. He wanted to get over the wall again and look in at the window, to see if the slow match had not gone out. The rest restrained him. At length the explosion came like a clap of thunder. The flash brightened for an instant over the whole sky, and the re¬ port roused the sleeping inhabitants of Edin burgh from their slumbers, throwing the whole city into sudden consternation. The perpetrators of the deed, finding that their work was done, fled immediately. They tried various plans to avoid the sentinels at the gates of the city, as well as the persons who were beginning to come toward the scene of file explosion. When they reached the palace >f Holyrood, they were challenged by the sen¬ tinel on duty there. They said that they were friends of Earl Bothwell, bringing dispatches tn him from the country. The sentinel askea them if they knew what was the cause of that loud explosion. They said they did not, and passed on. 190 Mary Q,ueen of Seers -^1567 Mary’s indignation. Bothwell arrested, tried, and acquitted Both well went to his room, called for a drink, undressed himself, and went to bed. Half an Hour afterward, messengers came to awaken him, and inform him that the king’s house had been blown up with gunpowder, and the king himself killed by the explosion. He rose with an appearance of great astonishment and indig- lation, and, after conferring with some of the other nobles, concluded to go and communicate the event to the queen. The queen was over¬ whelmed with astonishment and indignation too. The destruction of Darnley in such a man¬ ner as this, of course produced a vast sensation all over Scotland. Every body was on the alert to discover the authors of the crime. Rewards were offered; proclamations were made. Ru¬ mors began to circulate that Bothwell was the criminal. He was accused by anonymous placards put up at night in Edinburgh. Len¬ nox, Darnley’s father, demanded his trial; and a trial was ordered. The circumstances of the trial were such, however, and Botnwell’s nower and desperate recklessness were so great, that Lennox, when the time came, did not appear He said he had not force enough at his com¬ mand to come safely into court. There being no testimony offered, Bothwell was acquitted; 1567.] Bothwell. 191 BothwelVs challenge. Hia plan to marry Mary and he immediately afterward issued Ids proc¬ lamation, offering to fight any man who should Intimate, in any way, that he was concerned in the murder of the king. Thus Bothwell estab¬ lished his innocence ; at least, no man dared to gainsay it. Darnley was murdered in February. Both¬ well was tried and acquitted in April. Imine- diately afterward, he took measures for private¬ ly making known to the leading nobles that if was his design to marry the queen, and for se¬ curing their concurrence in the plan. They concurred; or at least, perhaps for fear of dis¬ pleasing such a desperado, said what he under¬ stood to mean that they concurred. The queen heard the reports of such a design, and said, as ladies often do in similar cases, that she did not know what people meant by such reports; there was no foundation for them whatever. Toward the end of April, Mary was about returning from the castle of Stirling to Edin- ourgh with a small escort of troops and attend¬ ants. Melville was in her train. Bothwell set out at the head of a force of more than five hundred men to intercept her. Mary lodged one night, on her way, at Linlithgow, the pal¬ ace where she was born, and the next morning 192 Maii\ Q,ueen of Scots. [l£)l>'3 rhe abduction. Mary’s confinement at Our bar. Her account of H was quietly pursuing her journey, when Both well came up at the head of his troops. Resist- incc was vain. Botnwell advanced to Mary’s lorse, and, taking the bridle, led her away. A few of her principal followers were taken pris oners too, and the rest were dismissed. Both- weU took his captive across the country by a rapid flight to his castle of Dunbar. The at tendants who were taken with her were releas¬ ed, and she remained in the Castle of Dunbar for ten days, entirely in Both well’s power. According to the account which Mary her¬ self gives of what took place during this cap¬ tivity, she at first reproached Bothwell bitterly for the ungrateful and cruel return he was mak¬ ing for all her kindness to him, by such a deed of violence and wrong, and begged and entreat¬ ed him to let her go. Bothwell replied that he knew that it was wrong for him to treat his sovereigri so rudely, but that he was impelled to it by the circumstances of the case, and by love which he felt for her, which was too strong for him to control. He then entreated her t«j become bis wife; he complained of the bitter nostflity rrhich he had always been subject to from his enemies, and that he could have no safeguard from this hostility in time to come, UUNBAR Casti.e—T‘ io of K irl Bolh\V'iii» 25—13 ' 1 1567.J Bothwell. 195 Botbwell entreats Mary to marry him. She conaenti. but in her favor; and he could not depend upon any assurance of her favor less than her mak¬ ing him her husband. He protested that, if she would do so, he would never ask to share hoi power, but would be content to be her faith¬ ful and devoted servant, as he had always been. It was love, not ambition, he said, that animat¬ ed him, and he could not and would not be re¬ fused. Mary says that she was distressed and agitated beyond measure by the appeals and ♦^^hreats with which BothweU accompanied his urgent entreaties. She tried every way to plan some mode of escape. Nobody came to her rescue. She was entirely alone, and in Both- well’s power. Bothwell assured her that the leading nobles of her court were in favor of the marriage, and showed her a written agreement signexl by them to this effect. At length, wearied and exhausted, she was finally over¬ come by his urgency, and yielding partly to his persuasions, and partly, as she says, to ft rce, gave herself up to his power. Mary remained at Dunbar about ten daya^ during which time Bothwell sued out and ob¬ tained a divorce from his wife. His wife, feel¬ ing, perhaps, resentment more than grief, s'ned, at the same time, for a divorce from him. Both 196 Mary Queen of Scjts. [1667 BothwoU'8 pardon. The marriage. Donbta in respect to Mar 7 well then sallied forth from his fastness a1 Dunbar, and, taking Mary with him, went to Edinburgh, and took up his abode in the cas¬ tle there, eis that fcTtress was then under hu power. Mary soon after appeared in public and stated that she was now entirely free, and that, although Bothwell had done wrong in car rying her away by violence, still he had treated her since in so respectful a manner, that she had pardoned him, and had received him mt<» favor again. A short time after this they were married. The ceremony w'as performed in a very private and unostentatious maimer, and took place in May, about three months after the murder of Darnley. By some persons Mary’s account of the trans¬ actions at Dunbar is believed. Others think that the whole affair was all a preconcerted plan, and that the appearance of resistance on her part was only for show, to justify, in some degree, in the eyes of the world, so imprudent and inexcusable a marriage. A great manj volumes have been written on the question without making any progress toward a settle ment of it. It is one of those cases where, the evidence being complicated, conflicting, and in¬ complete, the mind is swayed by the feelings, H O T H W K L L. 197 InUuence of beauty and misfortune. and the readers of the story decide more or less favorably for the unhappy queen, according to the warmth of the interest awakened in their nearts by beauty and misfortune. i9H Mart (^.ueen of Scots. [l£>t)7 llAiT'a Infatuatioa. Es^mses for b»' Chapter iX. The Fall of Bothwell rfflHE course which Mary pursued after he liberation from Dunbar in yielding to Both well’s wishes, pardoning his violence, receiving him again into favor, and becoming his wife, is one of the most extraordinary instances of the infatuation produced by love that has ever oc¬ curred. If the story had been fiction instead of truth, it would have been pronounced extrav¬ agant and impossible. As it was, the whole country was astonished and confounded at such a rapid succession of desperate and unaccount¬ able crimes. Mary herself seems to have been hurried through these terrible scenes in a sort of delirium of excitement, produced by the strange oiroumstances of the case, and the wild and un¬ controllable agitations to which they gave ’em. He assumed an air and tone of defiance. He increased his forces. He conceived the plan of going to Stirling Castle to seize the young prince, who was residing there under tr.o charge of persons to v'hom his education had been in* 1567 ] Fall of Both well. 20 , The opposing parties. How far Mary was responsible trusted. He said to his followers that James should never do any thing to avenge his father’s death, if he could once get him into his hands The other nobles formed a league to counteract these designs. They began to assemble their forces, and every thing threatened an outbreak of civil war. The marriage took place about the middle of May, and within a fortnight from that time the lines began to be pretty definitely drawn between the two great parties, the queen and Bothwell on one side, and the insurgent nobles on the other, each party claiming to be friends of the queen. Whatever was done on Both- well’s side was, of course, in the queen’s name, though it is very doubtful how far she was re¬ sponsible for what was done, or how far, on the other hand, she merely aided, under the influ¬ ence of a species of compulsion, in carrying into execution Bothwell’s measures. We must say, in narrating the history, that the queen did this and that, and must leave the reader to judge whether it was herself, or Bothwell acting through her, who was the real agent in the transactions described. Stirling Castle, where the young prince waia residing, is northwest of Edinburgh. The con- 202 Mary Queea of Scots. [15(i7 Melrose. Ruins of the abbey. Mary's proclamatiou federate lords were assembling in that vicinity. The border country between England and Scot¬ land is of course south. In the midst of this border country is the ancient town of Melrose, where there was, in former days, a very rich and magnificent abbey, the ruins of which, to this day, form one of the most attractive ob¬ jects of interest in the whole island of Great Britain. The region is now the abode of peace, and quietness, and plenty, though m Mary’s day it was the scene of continual turmoil and war. It is now the favorite retreat of poets and philosophers, who seek their residences there on account of its stiUness and peace. Sir Wal¬ ter Scott’s Abbotsford is a few miles from Mel¬ rose. About a fortnight after Mary’s marriage,, she issued a proclamation ordering the military chiefs in her kingdom to assemble at Melrose, with their followers, to accompany her on an expedition through the border country, to sup¬ press some disorders there. The nobles ct)n' sidered this as only a scheme of Bothwell’s to draw them away from the neighborhood of Stir¬ ling, so that he might go and get possession ol the young prince. Rumors of this spread amund the countrv, and tb'' forces, instead of 1567] Fall of Bothwell. 203 The prince’s lords. Bothwell alarmed. Bortbwick Ce.stla proceeding to Melrose, began to assemble in the neighborhood of Stirling, for the protection of the prince. The lords under whose banners they gathered assumed the name of the prince’’i .ords, and they called upon the people to take Dp arms in defense of young James’s person and rights. The prince’s lords soon began to con¬ centrate their forces about Edinburgh, and Bothwell was alarmerl for his safety. He had reason to fear that the governor of Edinburgh Castle was on their side, and that he might sud- tlenly sally forth with a body of his forces down the High Street to Holyrood, and take him pris¬ oner. He accordingly began to think it neces¬ sary to retreat. Now Bothwell had, among his other posses¬ sions, a certain castle called Borthwick Castle, a few miles south of Edinburgh. It was sit¬ uated on a Uttle swell of land in a beautiful val¬ ley. It was surrounded with groves of trees, and from the windows and walls of the castle there was an extended view over the beautiful and fertile fields of the valley. This castle was extensive and strong. It consisted of one great square tower, surrounded and protected b • walls and bastions, and was approached by a draw¬ bridge. In the sudden emergency in which 5^04 Mar/ Queen of Scots. [1567 Bothwell'a retreat He i« besieged. Makes his escape Bothwell found himself placed, this fortress seemed to be the most convenient and the surest retreat. On the 6th of June, he accord¬ ingly left Edinburgh with as large a force as be had at command, and rode rapidly across tr.e country with the queen, and established him¬ self at Borthwick. The prince’s lords, taking fresh courage from the evidence of Bothwell’s weakness and fear, immediately marched from Stirling, passed by Edinburgh, and almost immediately after Both- well and the queen had got safely, as they im¬ agined, established in the place of their retreat, they found their castle surrounded and hemmed in on all sides by hostile forces, which filled the whole valley. The castle was strong, but not strong enough to withstand a siege from such an army. Bothwell accordingly determined to retreat to his castle of Dunbar, which, being on a rocky promontory, jutting into the sea, and more remote from the heart of the country, was less accessible, and more safe than Borth- »vick. He contrived, though with great diffi- 3ulty, to make his escape with the queen, through the ranks of his enemies. It is said that the queen was disguised in male attire. At any rate, they made their escape, they reach* 1567.J Fall of Both well. 20»*> Botbweil •t Dunbar. Proclamation. Approaching conteat ed Dunbar, and Mary, or Bothwell in her name, Immediately issued a proclamation, calling upon all her faithful subjects to assemble in arms, to deUver her from her dangers. At the same time, the prince’s lords issued their proclamation, call¬ ing upon aU faithful subjects to assemble with them, to aid them in delivering the queen from the tyrant who held her captive. The faithful subjects were at a loss which proclamation to obey. By far the greater num ber joined the insurgents. Some thousands, however, went to Dunbar. With this force the queen and BothweU sallied forth, about the middle of June, to meet the prince’s lords, or the insurgents, as they called them, to settle the question at issue by the kind of ballot with which such questions were generally settled in those days. Mary had a proclamation read at the head of her army, now that she supposed she was on the ftve of battle, in which she explained the causes of the quarrel. The proclamation stated that the marriage was Mary’s free act, and that, alt rough it was in some respects an extraordi¬ nary one, still the circumstances were such that •he could not do otherwise than she had done F^r ten days she had bo3n in Bothw-.ll’s pow- •206 Mary (cJueen of Scots. [1567 Mary's appeal. Approach of the prince’s lords. Carberry Hill ei in his castle at Dunbar, and not an arm haJ been raised for her deliverance. Her subjects ought to have interposed then, if they were in* tending really to rescue her from Bothwell’a jower. They had done nothing then, but now, when she had been compelled, by the cruel cii- cumstances of her condition, to marry Both- well—when the act was done, and could no lon¬ ger be recalled, they had taken up arms against her, and compelled her to take the field in her own defense. The army if the prince’s lords, with Mary’s most determined enemies at their head, ad¬ vanced to meet the queen’s forces. The queen finally took her post on an elevated pieee of ground called Carberry Hill. Carberry is an old Scotch name for gooseberry. Carberry Hill is a few miles to the eastward of Edinburgh, near Dalkeith. Here the two armies were drawn up, opposite to each other, in hostile ar¬ ray. Le Croc, the aged and venerable French em • bassador, made a great effort to effect an an oommodation and prevent a battle. He first went to the queen and obtained authority from her to offer terms of peace, and then went to th ;3 3 amp of the prince’s lords and proposed that 1567.] Fall of Both well. 207 Efforts of Le Croc to effect an accommodstion. BothweO’s chaUenga they should lay down their arms and submit to the queen’s authority, and that she would ^or* give and forget what they had done. They re^ plied that they had done no wrong, and asked for no pardon ; that they were not in arms against the queen’s authority, but in favor of it. They sought only to deliver her from the durance in which she was held, and to bring to punishment the murderers of her husband, who- ever they might be. I^e Croc went back and forth several times, vainly endeavoring to ef¬ fect an accommodation, and finally, giving up in despair, he returned to Edinburgh, leaving the contending parties to settle the contest in their own way. Bothwell now sent a herald to the camp of his enemies, challenging any one of them to meet him, and settle the question of his guilt or innocence by single combat. This proposi¬ tion was not quite so absurd in those days as it. would be now, foi it was not an unconunon thing, in the Middle Ages, to try in this waj questions of crime. Many negotiations ensuec on Bothwell’s proposal. One or two persons expressed themselves ready to accept the chal¬ lenge. Bothwell objected to them on account of their rank beins inferior to his, but said ho 208 Mary (c^uekn of 8eoTS. ^1567 Horton. Hnry ttaada for Qntngn would fight Morton, if Morton wouid accept his challenge. Morton had been his accomplice in the murder of Darnley, but had afterward joined the party of Bothwell’s foes. It would have been a singular spectacle to see one of these confederates in the commission of a crime con* tending desperately in single combat to settle the question of the guilt or umocence of the other. The combat, however, did not take place. After many negotiations on the subject, the plan was abandoned, each party charging the other with declining the contest. The queen and BothweU, in the mean time, found such evidences of strength on the part of their ene¬ mies, and felt probably, in their own hearts, so much of that faintness and misgiving under which human energy almost always sinks when the tide begins to turn against it, after the com¬ mission of wrong, that they began to feel dis¬ heartened and discouraged. The queen sent to the opposite camp with a request that a certain personage, the Laird of Grange, in whom all parties had great confidence, should come to her, that she might make one more effort at recon¬ ciliation. Grange, after consulting with the prince’s lords, made a proposition to Mary, which 15(37.] Fall of Both well. 209 Proposition of Grange. DUmlssal of Bothwell. she finally concluded to accept. It was as fol* lows: They proposed that Mary should come ovei to their camp, not saying very distinctly wheth¬ er she was to come as their captive or as their queen. The event showed that it was in the former capacity that they intended to receive her, though they were probably willing that she should understand that it was in the latter. At all events, the proposition itself did not make it very clear what her position would be ; and the poor queen, distracted by the difficulties which surrounded her, and overwhelmed with agitation and fear, could nor press very strongly for precise stipulations. In re.spect to Both¬ well, they compromised the question by agree¬ ing that, as he was under suspicion in respect to the murder of Darnley, he should not accom¬ pany the queen, but should be dismissed upon the field; that is, allowed to depart, without molestation, wherever he should choose to go. This plan was finally adopted. The queen bade Bothwell farewell, and he went away reluctant¬ ly and in great apparent displeasure, lie had, in fact, with his characteri.stic ferocity, attempt¬ ed to shoot Grange pending the negotiation, Ho mounted his horse, and, with a few atteiul- 25—14 210 Marv' Queen of Scots. [1567 QuestloD of Mary’s guilt- The supposition against her ants, rode off and sought a retreat once more upon his rock at Dunbar. From all the evidence which has come down us, it seems impossible to ascertain whether Mary desired to be released from Both well’s power, and was glad when the release came, or whether she still loved him, and was plan- ning a reunion, so soon as a reunion should be possible. One party at that time maintained, and a large class of WTiters and readers since have concurred in the opinion, that Mary was in love with Bothwell before Darnley’s death; that she connived with him in the plan for Darn- ley’s murder ; that she was a consenting party to the abduction, and the spending of the ten days at Dunbar Castle, in his power; that the marriage was the end at which she herself, as well as Bothwell, had been all the time aim ing; and then, when at last she surrendered her¬ self to the prince’s lords at Carberry Hill, it was only yielding unwillingly to the necessity of a temporary separation from her lawless husband, with a view of reinstating him in favor and power at the earliest opportunity. Another party, both among her people at the time ani among the writers and readers who have since paid aftention to her story, thinlj 1567.J i'ALL OK BoTHWELL. 211 The suppositioo in her favor. Uncertainty that she never loved Bothwell, and that, though she valued his services as a bold and energetic soldier, she had no collusion with him whatever in respect to Darnley’s murder. They think that, though she must have felt in some sense relieved of a burden by Darnley’s death, she did not in any degree aid in or justify the crime, and that she had no reason for suppos¬ ing that Bothwell had any share in the com¬ mission of it. They think, also, that her con¬ senting to marry Bothwell is to be accounted for by her natural desire to seek shelter, under some wing or other, from the terrible storms which were raging around her; and being de¬ serted, as she thought, by every body else, and moved by his passionate love and devotion, she imprudently gave herself to him; that she lamented the act as soon as it was done, but that it was then too late to retrieve tne step; and that, harassed and in despair, she knew not what to do, but that she hailed the rising of her nobles as affording the only prom¬ ise of deliverance, and came forth from Dunbw to meet them with the secret purpose of deliv¬ ering herself into their hands. The question which of these two suppositions is the correct one has been discussed a great och Leven Castle. inert, were awakened in her favor. She issued a proclamation, declaring that her abdication had been forced upon her, and, as such, was aull and void. She summoned Murray to sur¬ render his powers as regent, and to come and receive orders from her. She called upon all her faithful subjects to take up arms and gather around her standard. Murray refused to obey, but large masses of the people gave in their ad¬ hesion to their lioerated queen, and flocked to Hamilton to enter into her service. In a week Mary found herself at the head of an army of six thousand men. The Castle of Loch Leven is now a solitar\ ruin. The waters of the loch have been low¬ ered by means of an excavation of the outlet, and a portion of land has been left bare around the walls, which the proprietor has planted with trees. Visitors are taken from Kinross in a boat to view the scene. The square tower, though roofless and desolate, still stands. The wandow in the second story, which served as the entrance, and the one above, where the chain was worked, with the deep furrows in the sill out by its friction, are shown by the guide. The court-yard is overgrown with weeds, and en Ruins of Loch Leven Castle 25-Its I56&.J Loch Leven Castle. 243 The octagonal tower. Viaiton cumbered with fallen stones and old founda¬ tions The chapel is gone, though its outline may be still traced in the ruins of its walls. The octagonal tower which Mary occupied re¬ mains, and the visitors, climbing up by the nar¬ row stone stairs in the wall, look out at the vpin- dow over the waters of the loch and the distant hdls; and try to recreate in imagination the scene vvhioh the apartment presented when the on- happy captive was there. ■-i44 Mary Queen of IScots. [Jf50ti Dumbarton Castle. 'Hte situation and aspect Chapter XL The Long Captivity. I I AMILTON, which had been thus far tne ■- queen’s place of rendezvous, was a palace rather than a castle, and therefore not a place of defense. It was situated, as has been al¬ ready stated, on the River Clyde, above Glas¬ gow ; that is, toward the southeast of it, the River Clyde flowing toward the northwest. The Castle of Dumbarton, which has alreadv been mentioned as the place from which Mary em¬ barked for France in her early childhood, was below Glasgow, on the northern shore of the river. It stands there stiU in good repair, and is well garrisoned; it crowns a rock which rises abruptly from the midst of a comparatively level country, smiUng with villages and culti¬ vated fields, and frowns sternly upon the peace ful steamers and merchant sh^ps which are con tinually gliding along under its guns, up and down the Clyde. Queen Mary concluded to move forward t^ 1568.] The Long Captivity. !!i45 Attempt to retreat to Dumbarton. Mary’s forces defeated Dumbarton, it being a place of greater safety than Hamilton. Murray gathered his forces lo intercept her march. The two armies met near Glasgow, as the queen was moving westward, down the river. There was a piece of rising ground between them, which each party was eager to ascend before the other should reach it. The leader of the forces on Murray’s side ordered every horseman to take up a foot-sol- dier behind him, and ride with all speed to the top of the hill. By this means the great body of Murray’s troops were put in possession of the vantage ground. The queen’s forces took post on another rising ground, less favorable, at a little distance. The place was called Langside. A cannonading was soon commenced, and a gen¬ eral battle ensued. Mary watched the progress of it with iutense emotions. Her forces began soon to give way, and before many hours thej were retreating in all directions, the whole coun¬ try being soon covered with the awful specta- oles which are afforded by one terrified and panic-stricken army flying before the forious and triumphant rage of another. Mary gazed on the scene in an agony of grief and despair. A few faithful friends kept near her side, and told her that she must hurry away. Thcv 246 Mary Queen of Scots. [1568 Marj’i flight DudrenssB. ConsnltatlonB turned to the southward, and rode away from the ground. They pressed on as rapidly as posj- sible toward the southern coast, thinkmg that the only safety for Mary now was for her to make her escape from the country altogether, and go either to England or to France, in hopes of obtaining foreign aid to enable her to recover her throne. They at length reached the sea- coast. Mary was received into an abbey called Dundrennan, not far from the English frontier. Here she remained, with a few nobles and a small body of attendants, for two days, spend- ing the time in anxious consultations to determ¬ ine what should be done. Mary herself was in favor of going to England, and appealing to Elizabeth for protection and help. Her friends and advisers, knowing Elizabeth perhaps better than Mary did, recommended that she should sail for France, in hopes of awakening sympa¬ thy there. But Mary, as we might naturally have expected, considering the circumstances under which she left that country, found her¬ self extremely unwilling to go there as a fugi» tive and a suppliant. It was decided, finally, to go to England. The nearest stronghold in England was Car- lisle Castle, which was not very far from the 1568.] The Long Captivity. 247 Carlisle Castle Mary’s message to the governor frontier. The boundary between the two king- Joms is formed here by the Solway Frith, a broad arm of the sea. Dundrennan Abbey, to which Mary had retreated, weis near the town of Kirkcudbright, which is, of course, on the northern side of the Frith; it is also near ihe sea. Carlisle is further up the Frith, near where the River Solway empties into it, and is twenty or thirty miles from the shore. Mary sent a messenger to the governor of the castle at Carlisle to inquire whether he would receive and protect her. She could not, however, wait for an answer to this message, as the country was all in commotion, and she was exposed to an attack at any time from Mur¬ ray’s forces, in which case, even if they should not succeed in taking her captive, they might effectually cut oft’ her retreat from Scottish ground. She accordingly determined to pro¬ ceed immediately, and receive the answer from the governor of the castle on the way. She set ou* on the 16th of May. Eighteen or twent) persons constituted her train. This was all that remained to her of lier army of six thousand men. She proceeded to the shore. They provided a fishing-boat for the voyage, furnishing it as crmfortably fir her as ciroum 249 Mary (^.ueen of Scots. [1568 Lowther. Mary’s reception at the oagtla stances would admit. She embarked, and sail- ed along the coast, eastward, up the Frith, fui iibou* eighteen miles, gazing mournfully upon the receding shore of her native land—receding, in fact, now from her view forever. They landed at the most convenient port for reaching Carlisle, intending to take the remainder of the journey by land In the mean time, the messenger, on his ai- rival at Carlisle, found that the governor had gone to London. His second in rank, whom he had left in command, immediately sent off an express after him to inform him of the event. The name of this lieutenant-governor was Low- ther. Lowther did all in Mary’s favor that it was in his power to do. He directed the mes¬ senger to inform her that he had sent to Lon¬ don fo instructions from Elizabeth, but that, in the mean time, she would be a welcome guest in his castle, and that he would defend her there from all her enemies. He then sent Around to all the nobles and men of distinction n the neighborhood, infcrming them of the ar- .nval of the distinguished visitor, and having as¬ sembled them, they proceeded together toward the coast to meet and receive the unhappy fu¬ gitive with the honors becoming her rank. 15b8.j The Long Captivity 249 Im Maiy a guest cr a prisoner t Precautions for guarding hei though su3h honors must have seemed little else than a mockery in her present condition. Mary was received at the castle as an hon¬ ored guest. It is, however, a curious circum¬ stance, that, in respect to the reception of princes and queens in royal castles, there is little or no distinction between the ceremonies which mark the honored guest and those which attend the helpless captive. Mary had a great many friends at first, who came out of Scotland to visit her. The authorities ordered repairs to be commenced upon the castle, to fit it more suitably for so distinguished an inmate, and, in consequence of the making of these repairs, they found it in¬ convenient to admit visitors. Of course, Mary, being a mere guest, could not complain. She wanted to take a walk beyond the limits of the castle, upon a green to which there was access through a postern gate. Certainly : the gov¬ ernor made no objection to such a walk, but sent twenty or thirty armed men to accompany her. They might be considered either as an honorary escort, or as a guard to watch her movements, to prevent her escape, and to se¬ cure her return. At one time she proposed to go a hunting They allowed her to go, prop- trifh attended. On her return, however, the 250 Mary Queen of Scots. [1568 Cllzabetb’8 bypocrlay. Dishonorable proposal officer reported to liis superior that she was sc admirable in her horsemanship, and could ride with so much fearlessness and speed, that he tliought it might be possible for a body of her friends to come and carry her off, on some such occasion, back across the frontier. So they de¬ termined to tell Mary, when she wished to hunt again, that they thought it not safe for her to go out on such excursions, as her enemies might make a sudden invasion and carry her away. The precautions would be just the same to pro¬ tect Mary from her enemies as to keep her from her friends. Elizabeth sent her captive cousin very kind and condoling messages, dispatching, however, by the same messenger stringent orders to tne commander of the castle to be j,ure and keep her safely. Mary asked lor an interview with Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s officers replied that she could not properly admit Mary to a personal in¬ terview until she had been, in some way or oth¬ er, cleared of the suspicion which attached to her in respect to the murder of Darnley. They pro¬ posed, moreover, that Mary should consent to have that question examined before some sort of court which Elizabeth might constitute for tnis purpose. Now it :'.s a special point of honor 156S.] The Long Captivity. 251 Ranonl P«paratIon from frienda. Propoeed trial among all sovereign kings and queens, through¬ out the civilized world, that they can, techni¬ cally, do no wrong; that they can not in any way be brought to trial; and especially that Uiey can not be, by any means or in any way, amenable to each other. Mary refused to ac¬ knowledge any English jurisdiction whatevei in respect to any charges brought against her, a sovereign queen of Scotland. Elizabeth removed her prisoner to another castle further from the frontier than Carlisle, in order to place her in a situation where she would be more safe from her enemies. It was not con¬ venient to lodge so many of her attendants at these new quarters as in the other fortress, and several were dismissed. Additional obstructions were thrown in the way of her seeing friends and visitors from Scotland. Mary found her situation growing every day more and more helpless and desolate. Elizabeth urged contin¬ ually upon her the necessity of having the points at issue between herself and Murray examined by a commissioner, artfully putting it on the ground, not of a trial of Mary, but a calling of Murray to account, by Mary, for his usurpa tion. At last, harassed and w*rn down, and finding no ray of hope coming to he’’ from an 3 f 252 Mary Q,ueen of Scots. [1569 Opening of the court. Adjourned to Londoi quarter, she consented. Elizabeth constituteo such a court, which was to meet at York, a arge and ancient city in the north of England. Murray was to appear there in person, with jther lords associated with him. Mary appoint¬ ed commissioners to appear for her; and the two parties went into court, each thinking that it was the other which was accused and on trial. The court assembled, and, after being opened with great parade and ceremony, commenced the investigation of the questions at issue, which ed, of course, to endless criminations and re¬ criminations, the ground covering the whole aistory of Mary’s career in Scotland. They went on for some weeks in this hopeless laby¬ rinth, until, at length, Murray produced the fa mous letters alleged to have been written by Mary to BothweU before Darnley’s murder, as a part of the evidence, and charged Mary, on the strength of this evidence, with having been an abettor in the murder. Elizabeth, finding chat the affair was becoming, as in fact she visfced i+ to become, more and more involved, and wishing to get Mary more and more entan- glea in it, and to draw her still further into her power, ordered the conference, as the court was called, to be adjourned to London. Here things 1569.] The Long Captivity. 253 Failure of the trial. Marf’a indigDast pride took such a turn that Mary complained that she was herself treated in so unjust a manner, and Muiray and his cause were allowed so many unfair advantages, that she could not allow the discussion on her part to continue. The con¬ ference was accordingly broken up, each part) charging the other ith being the cause of the interruption. Murray returned to Scotland to resume his government there. Mary was held a closer captive than ever. She sent to Elizabeth ask¬ ing her to remove these restraints, and allow her to depart either to her own country or to France. Elizabeth replied that she could not, considering all the circumstances of the case, allow her to leave England ; but that, if sh; would give up all claims to the government of Scotland to her son, the young prince, she might remain in peace in England. Mary re¬ plied that she would suffer death a thousan.' times rather than dishonor herself in the eyes of the world by abandoning, in such a way, her rights as a sovereign. The last words whicb she should speak, she said, should be those the Queen of Scotland. Elizabeth therefore considered that she had no alternative left but to keep Mary a prison- 254 Mary Queer of Scots. [1569 EUsabetk’i aegotlatioiu with Hurray. nielr failure er. She accordingly retained her for some time in confinement, but she soon found that such a charge was a serious incumbrance It her, and one not unattended with danger. The disaffected in her own realm were beginning to form plots, and to consider whether they could not, in some way or other, make use of Mary’s claims to the English crown to aid them. Fi¬ nally, Elizabeth came to the conclusion, when she had become a little satiated with the feel¬ ing, at first so delightful, of having Mary in her power, that, after all, it would be quite as con¬ venient to have her imprisoned in Scotland, and she opened a negotiation with Murray for de¬ livering Mary into his hands. He was, on his part, to agree to save her life, and to keep her a close prisoner, and he was to deliver hostages to Elizabeth as security for the fulfillment ol these obligations. Various difficulties, however, occurred in the way of the accoinplishment of these plans, Eind before the arrangement was finally completed, it was out suddenly short by Murray’s misera¬ ble end. One of the HamUtons, whc had been with Mary at Langside, was taken prisoner after the battle. Murray, who, of course, eis the legally constituted regent in the name of I5G9.; The Long Captivity. 255 Cniel treatment of Lady Hamilton. Hamilton reaclTee on renuigeL James, considered himself as representing the royal authority of the kingdom, regardal these prisoners as rebels taken in the act of insurreO" non against their sovereign. They were con. cemned to death, but finally were pardoned at the place of execution. Their estates were, however, confiscated, and given to the followers and favorites of Murray. One of these men, in taking possession of the house of Hamilton, with a cruel brutality char¬ acteristic of the times, turned Hamilton’s fami¬ ly out abruptly in a cold night—perhaps exas¬ perated by resistance which he may have en¬ countered. The wife of Hamilton, it is said, was sent out naked ; but the expression means, probably, very insufficiently clothed for such an exposure. At any rate, the unhappy outcast wandered about, half frantic with anger and terror, until, before morning, she was wholly frantic and insane. To have such a calamity brought upon him in consequence merely of his fidelity to his queen, was, as the bereaved and ■retched husband thought, an injury not to be borne. He considered Murray the responsible author of these miseries, and silently and calm, ly resolved on a terrible revenge. Murray was making a progress through the '^66 Mary Q,ueen of Hoots. []5t)S Hamilton s plana. Death of Momy country, traveling in state with a great reti* .nue, and was to pass through Linlithgow. There is a town of that name close by the pal¬ ace. Hamilton provided himself with a room in one of the houses on the principal street, through which he knew that Murray must pass. He had a fleet horse ready for him at the back door. The front door was barricaded There was a sort of balcony or gallery project¬ ing toward the street, with a window in it. He stationed himself here, having carefully taken every precaution to prevent his being ssen from the street, or overheard in his move¬ ments. Murray lodged in the town during the night, and Hamilton posted himself in his am¬ buscade the next morning, armed with a gun. The town was thronged, and Murray, on is¬ suing from his lodging, escorted by his caval¬ cade, found the streets crowded with specta¬ tors. He made his way slowly, on account of the throng. When he arrived at the prr'pei point, Hamilton took his aim in a cool and do liberate manner, screened from observation I)} black cloths with which he had darkened his hid ing-place. He fired. The ball passed through the body of the regent, and thence, descending as it went, killed a horse on the other side of 1570.] The Long Captivity. 257 fiamOton's flight Mary’s grief. Duke of Norfolk. him. Murray fell. There was a universal outciy of surprise and fear. They made an onset upon the house from which the shot had been fired. The door was strongly barricaded. Before they could get the means to force an ontrance, Hamilton was on his horse and far away. The regent was carried to his lodgings, and died that night. Murray was Queen Mary’s half brother, and the connection of his fortunes with hers, con¬ sidered in respect to its intimacy and the length of its duration, was, on the whole, greater than that of any other individual. He may be said to have governed Scotland, in reality, during the whole of Mary’s nominal reign, first as her minister and friend, and afterward as her com¬ petitor and foe. He was, at any rate, during most of her life, her nearest relative and her most constant companion, and Mary mourned his death with many tears. There was a great nobleman in England, named the Duke of Norfolk, who had vast es- tates, and was regarded as the greatest subject in the realm. He was a Catholic. Among the other countless schemes and plots to which Mary’s presence in England gave rise, he formed a plan of marrying her, and, through he» 25—17 258 Mar* ;4.ueen op ycoTS. ^1570 Duft6 of Norfolk Jehesded. Haiy*i onbappj Bltaation nlaim to the crown and by the help of the Cath¬ olics, to overturn the government of Elizabeth. He entered into negotiations with Mary, and she consented to become his wife, without, however, as she says, being a party to his po¬ litical schemes. His plots were discovered; he was imprisoned, tried, emd beheaded. Mary was accused of sharing the guilt of his treason. She denied this. She was not very vigorously proceeded against, but she suffered in the event of the affair another sad disappointment of her hopes of liberty, and her confinement became more strict and absolute than ever. Still she had quite a numerous retinue of attendants. Many of her former friends were allowed to continue with her. Jane Kennedy, who had escaped -with her from Loch Leven, re¬ mained in her service. She was removed from castle to castle, at Elizabeth’s orders, to dimin¬ ish the probability of the forming and maturing of plans of escape. She amused herself some¬ times in embroidery and similar pursuits, and Bemetimes she pined and languished under the pressure of her sorrows and woes. Sixteen ot eighteen years passed away in this manner. She was almost forgotten. Very exciting pub¬ lic events were taking place in England and in 1570.] The Long Captivity. 259 Mary almost forgotten in her captirlty. Scotland, and the name of the poor captive queen at length seemed to pass from men’s minds, ex¬ cept so far as it was wl ispered secretly in ploti and intrignes. 260 Mary Q.u&en of Scots. (T580 ?lotB and intrigues. How far Mary was involved Chapter XII. The End. and intrigues with which her name was connected. She, of course, longed for deliver¬ ance from the thraldom in which Elizabeth held her, and was ready to embrace any op¬ portunity which promised release. She thus seems to have listened from time to time to the overtures which were made to her, and involv¬ ed herself, in Elizabeth’s opinion, more or less, in the responsibility which attached to them. Elizabeth did not, however, in such oases, do any thing more than to increase somewhat the rigors of her imprisonment. She was afraid to proceed to extremities with her, partly, per¬ haps, for fear that she might, by doing so, awaken the hostility of France, whose king was Mary’s cousin, or of Scotland, whose mon arch was her son. At length, however, in the year 1586, about eighteen years from the onmmenoement of The End. 261 1.5J56.J BabingtOD'e conspiracy. Secret correspondenea Mary’s captivity, a plot was formed in which she became so seriously involved as to subject rerself to the charge of aiding and abetting in th h.gh treason of which the leaders of the plot ivero proved to be guilty. This plot is known in history by the name of Babington’s conspir¬ acy. Babington was a young gentleman of fortune, who lived in the hc'.art of England. He was inspired with a strong degree of inter¬ est in Mary’s fate, and wished to rescue her from her captivity. He joined himself with a large party of influential individuals of the Catholic faith. The conspirators opened nego¬ tiations with the courts of France and Spain for aid. They planned an insurrection, the as¬ sassination of Elizabeth, the rescue of Mary, and a general revolution. They maintained a correspondence with Mary. This correspond¬ ence was managed very secretly, the letters being placed by a confidential messenger in a certain hole in the castle wall where Queen Mary was confined. One day, when Mary was going out to ride, just as she was entering her carriage, officers suddenly arrived from London. They told her that the plot in which she had been engaged Dad b^’en discovered ; that fourteen of the prim- 262 Mary (c^ueen of Scot? |15bb Seizure of Mary’s papers. Her son Jamea. oipal conspirators had been hung, seven on each of two successive days, and that they had come to Eirrest some of her attendants and to seize her papers. They accordingly went into her apartments, opened all her desks, trunks, and cabmets, seized her papers, and took them to London. Mary sat down in the scene ot deso¬ lation and disorder which they left, and wept bitterly. The papers which were seized were taken to London, and Elizabeth’s government began se¬ riously to agitate the question of bringing Mary herself to trial. One would have thought that, in her forlorn and desolate condition, she would have looked to her son for sympathy and aid. But rival claimants to a crown can have little kind feeling to each other, even if they are moth¬ er and son, James, as he gradually approach¬ ed toward maturity, took sides against his moth¬ er, In fact, all Scotland was divided, and was for many years in a state of civil war: those who advocated Mary’s right to the crown on one side, and James’s adherents on the other They were called king’s men and queen’s men. James was, of course, brought up in hostility to his mother, and he wrote to her, about a year before Babington’s conspiracy, in terms so hoa< The K n d. 263 Elizabeth resolvee to bring Mary to tiiaL Fotherlngay ^astla tile and so devoid of filial love, that his ingrati* ^de stung her to the heart. “ Was it for this,*' «he said, “ that I made so many sacrifices, and endured so many trials on his account in his early years ? I have made it the whole busi¬ ness of my life to protect and secure his rights, and to open before him a prospect of future power and glory: and this is the return.” The English government, under Elizabeth’s direction, concluded to bring Mary to a public trial. They removed her, accordingly, to the Castle of Fotheringay. Fotheringay is in Nor¬ thamptonshire, which is in the very heart of England, Northampton, the shire town, being about sixty miles northwest of London. Foth¬ eringay Castle was on the banks of the River Nen, or Avon, which flows northeast from Nor¬ thampton to the sea. A few miles beli w the castle is the ancient town of Peterboroush, where there was a monastery and a great ca¬ thedral church. The monastery had been buUt a thousand years before. They removed Mary to Fotheringay Castle for her trial, and lawyers, counselors, commis¬ sioners, and officers of state began to assc^mble there ffom all quarters. The castle was b spa- sious structure It was surrounded wit! two 264 Mary of Scots. [1586 Oreat Interest In the trial. PreparationB for U aioats, and with double walls, and was strongly fortified. It contained numerous and spacious apartments, and it had especially one large hall which was well adapted to the purposes of this great trial. The preparations for the solemn ordeal through which Mary was now to pass, brought her forth from the obscurity in which she had so long been lost to the eyes of man¬ kind, and made her the universal object of in¬ terest and attention in England, Scotland, and France. The people of all these nations looked on with great interest at the spectacle of one queen tried solemnly on a charge of high trea¬ son against another. The stories of her beauty, her graces, her misfortunes, which had slum bered for eighteen years, were aU now revived, and every body felt a warm interest in the poor captive, worn down by long confinement, and trembling in the hands of what they feared would be a merciless and terrible power. Mary was removed to the Castle of Fother ’ngay toward the end of September, 1586. The 9 reparations for the trial proceeded slowly. Every thing in which kings and queens, or af¬ fairs of state were concerned in those days, was cjonducted with great pomp and ceremony. The arrangements of the haU were minutely ore 1586.] The End. 265 rhe throne. Mary refuses to plead scribed. At the head of it a sort of throne was placed, with a royal canopy over it, for the Queen of England. This, though it was va¬ cant, impressed the court and the spectators as a symbol of royalty, and denoted that the sov- ert'ignty of Elizabeth was the power before which Mary was arraigned. When the preparations were made, Mary re fused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the court. She denied that they had any right to arraign or to try her. “ I am no subject of Elizabeth’s,” said she. “ I am an independent and sovereign queen as well as she, and I will not consent to any thing inconsistent with this my true position I owe no allegiance to England, and I am not, in any sense, subject to her laws I came into the realm only to ask Eissistance from a sister queen, and I have been made a captive, and detained many years in an unjust and cruel imprisonment; and though now worn down both in body and mind by my protracted Bufferings, I am not yet so enfeebled as to for¬ get what is due to myself, my emcestors, and my country ” This refusal of Mary’s to plead, or to ac¬ knowledge the jurisdiction of the court, caused a new delay They urged her to abandon her 266 Mary (^ueen of IScots. [1586 rhe commission. Tlio great hall, resolution. They told her that if she refused to plead, the trial would proceed without her action, and, by pursuing such a course, she would only deprive herself of the means of de¬ fense, without at all impeding the course of her fate. At lengt.h Mary yielded. It would have been better for her to have adhered to her first •intention. The commission by which Mary was to be tried consisted of earls, barons, and other per¬ sons of rank, twenty or thirty in number. They were seated on each side of the room, the throne being £it the head. In the center was a table, where the lawyers, by whom the trial was to be conducted, were seated. Below this table was a chair for Mary. Behind Mary’s chair was a rail, dividing off the lower end of the hall from the court; and this formed an outer space, to which some spectators were admitted. Mary took her place in the seat assigned her, and the trial proceeded. They adduced the evi¬ dence against her, and then asked for her defense She said substantially that she had a right to make an effort to recover her liberty; that, aft er being confined a captive so long, and having lost forever her youth, her health, and her hap¬ piness, it was not wonderful that she wished ta The End. 267 i586.] Mary pronoimced guilty. Elizabeth’s pretended sorrow be free ; but that, in endeavoring to obtain her freedom, she had formed no plans to injure Eliz¬ abeth, or to interfere in any way with her rights or prerogatives as queen. The commissioners, ifter devoting some days to hearing evidence, and listening to tiie defense, sent Mary back to her apartments, and went to London. There they had a final consultation, and unanimously agreed in the following decision: “That Mary, commonly called Queen of Scots and dowager of France, had been an accessory to Babing- ton’s conspiracy, and had compassed the death of Elizabeth, queen of England.” Elizabeth pretended to be very much con cerned at this result. She laid the proceedings before Parliament. It was supposed then, and has always been supposed since, that she wished Mary to be beheaded, but desired not to take the responsibility of it herself; and that she wanted to appear xmwilling, and to be impeU- jd, greatly against her owm inclinations, by the urgency of others, to carry the sentence into execution. At any rate. Parliament, and all the members of the government, approved and confirmed the verdict, and wished to have if carried into effect. It has always been the custom, in raodern 268 Mary Queen of 8cots. [1586 signing the wurant. Shuffling of EUzabetk times, to require the solemn act of the supreme magistrate of any state to confirm a decision a tribunal which condemns a person to death, signing what is called a warrant for the ex- jcution. This is done by the king or queen in England, and by the governor in one of the United States. This warrant is an order, very formally written, and sealed with the great seal, authorizing the executioner to proceed, and carry the sentence into effect. Of course. Queen Mary could not be executed unless Elizabeth should first sign the warrant. Elizabeth would her¬ self, probably, have been better pleased to have been excused from all direct agency in the af¬ fair. But this could not be. She, however, made much delay, and affected great unwill¬ ingness to proceed. She sent messengers to Mary, telling her what the sentence had been, how sorry she was to hear it, and how much she desired to save her life, if it were possible. At the same time, she told her that she feared might not be in her power, and she advised Mary to prepare her mind for the execution of the sentence. Mary wrote a letter to Elizabeth in reply She said in this letter that she was glad to hear that they had pronounced sentence of death 1586.J The End. 269 Uar; 's letter to Elizabeth. Icterpoaition of Mary's friends against her, for she was weary of life, and had no hc'pe of relief or rest from her miseries but in tlie grave. She wrote, therefore, not to ask any change in the decision, but to make three requests. First, that, after her execution, her body might be removed to France, and be de¬ posited at Rheims, where the ashes of her moth¬ er were reposing. Secondly, that her execu¬ tion should not be in secret, but that her per¬ sonal friends might be present, to attest to the world that she met her fate with resignation and fortitude; and, thirdly, that her attendants and friends, who had, through their faithful love for her, shared her captivity so long, might be permitted to retire wherever they pleased, after her death, without any molestation. “ I hope,” said she, in conclusion, “ you will not refuse me these my dying requests, but that you will as¬ sure me by a letter under your own hand that you will comply with them, and then I shall die as I have lived, your affectionate sister and prisoner, Mary Queen of Scots.” The King of France, and James, Mary’s son in Scotland, made somewhat vigorous efforts to arrest the execution of the sentence which had been pronounced against Mary. From thesa nnd other causes, the sisiiing of the warrant 270 Mary C^ueen op SScots. [1587 Elizabeth signs the warrant. It Is read to Mary was delayed for some months, but at length Elizabeth yielded to the solicitations of her min Liters. She affixed her signature to the instru¬ ment The chancellor put upon it the great seal, and the commissioners who were appointed by it to superintend the execution went to Fotheringay. They arrived there on the 7th of February, 1587. After resting, and refreshing themselves for a short time from their journey, the commis¬ sioners sent word to Mary that they wished for an interview with her. Mary had retired. They said that their business was very important. She rose, and prepared to receive them. She assembled all her attendants, fourteen or fifteen in number, in order to receive the commission¬ ers in a manner comporting, so far as circum¬ stances allowed, "with her rank and station The commissioners were at length ushered into the apartment They stood respectfully before her, with their heads uncovered. The foremost then, in language as foroearing and gentle as was consistent with the nature of his message, informed her that it had been decided to carry the sentence which had been pronounced against ner into effect, and then he requested another of the number to read the warrant for her exe* cution. tul ilbHINUAy. IN ITS PRESENT STAT* 1587.J 1’hE JliND. 27b Uarj beare the sentence with composure. Protests her innocence Mary listened to it calmly and patiently Hei attendants, one after another, were over, come by the mournful and awful solemnity of the scene, and melted into tears. Mary, how¬ ever, was calm. When the reading of the war¬ rant was ended, she said that she was sorry that her cousin Elizabeth should set the exam¬ ple of taking the life of a sovereign queen ; but for herself, she was willing hi die. Life had long ceased to afford her any peace or happi¬ ness, and she was ready to exchange it for the prospect of immortality. She then laid her hand upon the New Testament, which was near her, of course a Catholic version, and call¬ ed God to witness that she had never plotted herself, or joined in plots with others, for the death of Elizabeth. One of the commissioners remarked that her oath being upon a Catholic version of the Bible, they should not consider it valid. She rejoined that it ought to be con¬ sidered the more sacred and solemn on that ac¬ count, as that was the version which she re garded as the only one which was authorita¬ tive and true. Mary then asked the commissioners several questions, as whether her son James had not BX})ressed any interest in her fate, and whether 25—18 274 Mary (^.ueen of Scots. [15y7 Mtiry refused a priest Mary alone with her friends no foreign princes had interposed to save her. The commissioners answered these and other mquiries, and Mary learned from their answers that her fate was sealed. She then asked them what time was appointed for the execution. They replied that it was to take place at eight o’clock the following morning. Mary had not expected so early an hour to be named. She said it was sudden; and she seemed agitated and distressed. She, howev¬ er, soon recovered her composure, and asked to have a Catholic priest allowed to visit her. The commissioners replied that that could not be permitted. They, however, proposed to send the Dean of Peterborough to visit her. A dean is the ecclesiastical functionary presiding over a cathedral church; and, of course, the Dean of Peterborough was the clergyman of the high¬ est rank in that vicinity. He was, however, a Protestant, and Mary did not wish to see him. The commissioners withdrew, and left Mary with her friends, when there ensued one of those scenes of anguish and suffering which those who witness them never forget, but carry the gloomy remerrbrance of them, like a dark shadow in the soul, to the end of their days Mary was quiet, and appeared calm. It may 1687.) The End. 275 Affecting scene. Sapper. Mary's farewell to her attendants however, have been the calm of hopeless and absolute despair Her attendants were over¬ whelmed with agitation and grief, the expres- Mon of which they could not even attempt tc jontrol. At last they became more composed, and Mary asked them to kneel with her in prayer; and she prayed for some time fervent¬ ly and earnestly in the midst of them She then directed supper to be prepared as usual, and, until it was ready, she spent her time in dividing the money wliich she had on hand into separate parcels for her attendants, mark ing each parcel with the name. She sat down at the table when supper was served, and though she ate but little, she conversed as usual, in a cheerful manner, and with smiles. Her friends wore silent and sad, struggling contin¬ ually to keep back their tears. At the close of the supper Mary called for a cup of wine, and drank to the health of each one of them, and then asked them to drink to her. They took the cup, and, kneeling before her, complied with her request, though, as they did it, the tears would come to their eyes. Mary then told them that she willingly forgave them for all that they had ever done to displease her, and she thanked them for their long-continued fidel 27b Mary (4,ueen of Scots. [1587 Mary’s Ian letters. Her dlrecttons as to the disposal of her body ity and love. She also asked that they would forgive her for any thing she might ever have done in respect to them which was inconsistent with her duty. They answered the request only with a renewal of their tears. Mary spent the evening in writing two let¬ ters to her nearest relatives in France, and in making her will. The principal object of these letters was to recommend her servants to the attention and care of those to whom they were addressed, after she should be gone. She went to bed shortly after midnight, and it is said she slept. This would be incredible, if any thing were incredible in respect to the workings of the human soul in a time of awful trial like this, which so transcends all the ordinary conditions of its existence. At any rate, whether Mary slept or not, the morning soon came. Her friends were around her £is soon as she rose. She gave them mi¬ nute directions about the disposition of her body She wished to have it taken to France to be in terred, as she had requested of Elizabeth, either at Rheims, in the same tomb with the body of her mother, or else at St. Denis, an ancient abbey a little north of Paris, where the ashes >>{ a long line of French monajohs repose. She The End. 27V i587.] iirangeinentf for the ezeention. Hie 0ra.loUl begged her servants, if possible, not to leave her body till it should reach its final home in one of these places of sepulture. In the mean time, arrangements had been nade for the last act in this dreadful tragedy, n the same great hall where she had been tried. They raised a platform upon the stone floor of the hall large enough to contain those who were to take part in the closing scene. On this plat¬ form was a block, a cushion, and a chair. All *hese things, as well as the platform itself, were jovered with black cloth, giving to the whole scene a most solemn and funereal expression The part of the hall containing this scaffold was railed off from the rest. The governor of. the castle, and a body of guards, came in and took their station at the sides of the room. Two ex¬ ecutioners, one holding the axe, stood upon the scaffold on one side of the block. Two of the commissioners stood upon the other side. The remaining commissioners and several gentle¬ men of the neighborhood took their places as spectators without the rail. The number of persons thus assembled was about two hondrecL Strange that any one should have come in, vol¬ untarily, to witness such a scene ! When aU was ready, the sheriff, carrying his 278 Mary Queen of Scots. [1587, Proeoe<3ng to tlie hall. Icterrlew with HelvUls white wand of office, and attended by some of tlio commissioners, went for Mary. She waj at her devotions, and she asked a little delay that she might conclude them : perhaps the shrinking spirit clung at the last moment to life, and wished to linger a few minutes longer before taking the final farewell. The request was granted. In a short time Mary signified that she was ready, and they began to move toward the hall of execution. Her attendants were going to accompany her. The sheriff said tills could not be allowed She accordingly bade them farewell, and they filled the castle with the sound of their shrieks and lamenta¬ tions. Mary went on, descending the stair-case, at the foot of which she was joined by one of he attendants, from whom she had been separated fur some time. His name was Sir Andrew Melville, and he was the master of her house¬ hold. The name of her secretary Melville wa^ James. Sir Andrew kneeled before her, kissed bar hand, and said that this was the saddest hour of his life. Mary began to give him some last commissions and requests. “ Say,” said she, “that I died firm in the faith ; that I for¬ give my enemies ; tliat I feel that I have neve? 1.6»7.j 'I'he Enl. 5i7y M&ry'fl la«t message. 8he desires the presence of hei sttendsnf diagraced Scotland, niy native country, and that I have been always true to France, the land of ny happiest years. Tell my son—” Here her roioe faltered and ceased to be heard, and she burst into tears. She struggled to regain her composure. “ Tell my son,” said she, “ that I thought of him in my last moments, and that I have never yielded, either by word or deed, to any thing whatever that might lead to his prejudice. Tell him to cherish the memory of his mother, and say that I sincerely hope his life may be happier than mine has been.” Mary then turned to the commissioners who stood by, and renewed her request that ner at¬ tendants, who had just been separated from her, might come down and see her die. The commissioners objected. They said that if these attendants were admitted, their anguish and lamentations would only add to her own distress, and make the whole scene more pain ful. Mary, however, urged the request. She said they had been devotedly attached to her all her days; they had shared her captivity, and loved and served her faithfully to the end, and it was enough if she herself, and they, de¬ sired that they should be present. The com- 280 Mary Queen of Scots. [158^ llary'e dress and appearance. Symbols of religion missioners at last yielded, and allowed her to name six, who should be summoned to attend her. She did so, and the six came down. The sad proeession then proceeded to the hall. Mary was in full court dress, and walk¬ ed into the apartment with the air and com¬ posure ol a reigning queen. She leaned on the arm of her physician. Sir Andrew Melville followed, bearing the train of her robe. Her dress is described as a gown of black silk, bor¬ dered with crimson velvet, over which was a satin mantle. A long veil of white crape, edged with rich lace, hung down almost to the ground. Around her neck was an ivory cru¬ cifix—that is, an image of Christ upon the cross, which the Catholics use as a memorial of our Savior’s sufferings—and a rosary, which is a string of beads of peculiar' arrangement, often employed by them as an aid in their de¬ votions. Mary meant, doubtless, by these sym¬ bols, to show to her enemies and to the world, that though she submitted to her fate without resistance, yet, so far as the contest of her life had been one of religious faith, she had no in¬ tention of yielding. Mary siscended the platform and took her s!eat in the chair provided for her. With the t587.] The End 281 Her iMt prayer exception of stifled sobs here and there to b« heard, the room was still. An offloer then ad 7anced and read the warrant of execution, which the executioners listened to as their au¬ thority for doing the dreadful work which they were about to perform. The Dean of Peter¬ borough, the Protestant ecclesiastic whom Mary had refused to see, then came forward to the foot of the platform, and most absurdly com¬ menced an address to her, with a view to con¬ vert her to the Protestant faith. Mary inter¬ rupted him, saying that she had been born and had lived a Catholic, and she was resolved so to die; and she asked him to spare her his use¬ less reasonings. The dean persisted in going on. Mary turned away from him, kneeled down, and began to offer a Latin prayer. The dean soon brought his ministrations to a close, and then Mary prayed for some time, in a dis tinct and fervent voice, in English, the largo company listening with breathless attention. She prayed for her own soul, and that she might have comfort from heaven in the agony of death. She implored God’s blessing upon France; upon Scotland; upon England; upon Queen Elizabeth ; and, more than all, upon hei 90U. During this time she held the ivory oru Mart Quekn ok Scots. [15S7 rhe execatloiL Heartrending scene. Disposition of the bodj cifix in her hand, clasping it and raising it frorc time to time toward heaven. When her prayer was ended, she rose, and, with the assistance of her attendants, took off her veil, and such other parts of her diess as it was necessary to remove in order to leave the neck bare, and then she kneeled forward and laid her head upon the block. The agitation of the assembly became extreme. Some turned away from the scene faint and sick at heart; some looked more eagerly and intensely at the group upon the scaffold ; some wept and sobbed aloud. The assistant executioner put Mary’s two hands together and held them; the other raised his axe, and, after the horrid sound of two or three successive blows, the assistant held np the dissevered head, saying, “ So perbh all Queen Elizabeth’s enemies.” The assembly dispersed. The body wai takeii into an adjoining apartment, and pre¬ pared for interment. Mary’s attendants wished to have it delivered to them, that they might comply with her dying request to convey it tr F'ranoi!; but they were told that they could not b»‘ allowed to do so. The body was interred with great pomp and ceremony in the Cathe- 1587.] ,;x.V The End 283 GUzabetb't affected fnrpiiae. Her ooDduct dral at Peterborough, where it remained in peace for many years. Now that the deed was done, tne great prob¬ lem with Elizabeth was, of course, to avert the consequences of the terrible displeasure and thust for revenge which she might naturally suppose it would awaken in Scotland and in France. She succeeded very well in accom¬ plishing this. As soon as she heard of the ex¬ ecution of Mary, she expressed the utmost sur¬ prise, grief, and indignation. She said that she had, indeed, signed the death warrant, but it was not her intention at all to have it execut¬ ed ; and that, when she delivered it to the offi¬ cer, she charged him not to let it go out of his possession. This the officer denied. Elizabeth insisted, and punished the officer by a long im¬ prisonment, and perpetual disgrace, for his pre¬ tended offense. She sent a messenger to James, explaining the terrible accident, as she termed it, which had occurred, and deprecating his dis¬ pleasure. James, though at first filled with indignation, and determined to avenge his mother’s death, allowed himself to be appease