Mary Queen of Scots

by Antonia Fraser

  Yet Lord James was very far from being a Scottish Guise, in any sense of the word; his next actions showed that in his order of loyalties he placed the interests of the Scottish Protestant party, as embodied in an English alliance, well above those of his sister’s confidence. Returning to Paris, he went secretly to Throckmorton’s lodgings, and, in Throckmorton’s own words, ‘declared unto me at good length all that passed between the Queen, his sister and him, and between the Cardinal of Lorraine and him’.17 Throckmorton in turn passed the information on to Elizabeth. Although James did actually inform Mary that he had met Throckmorton, he presumably did not impart to her the full nature of their discourses. On his way back to Scotland, Lord James once again stopped in England, and conferred with Cecil: it has been suggested on the evidence of Camden’s Annales, that during his two weeks in London, James suggested to Elizabeth that she should provide for her religion and her safety by intercepting Mary on her journey back to Scotland.18 But in fact, he had little motive for doing so, so long as Mary showed herself so adaptable, and so amenable to his advice; his subsequent actions show that his real intentions were to keep in well with both queens, rather than secure the captivity of one by the other. The prospect of a Queen Mary on the throne of Scotland, dependent on his counsels, and Queen Elizabeth on the throne of England, favourable to his policies, opened up new and agreeable avenues of ambition to Lord James. In the meantime James certainly won golden opinions from Throckmorton as a result of his confidences, who despite their illicit nature, wrote ecstatically that he was ‘one of the most virtuous noblemen, and one in whom religion, sincerity and magnanimity as much reign as ever he knew in any man in any nation’. He also took care to suggest that there should be a genuinely silver lining to this cloud of intrigue – in the shape of a distribution of £20,000 sterling, among the chief men of Scotland, to include Châtelherault and, of course, Lord James.

  James’s advice to his sister on the subject of the Scottish Protestants accorded well with what Mary had already been told from other sources about the Scottish situation. Throckmorton heard that even the king of Spain had advised her to be prepared to temporize in matters of religion, on her first arrival. Melville tells us that all the Frenchmen who had recently returned from Scotland advised her to be most familiar with James, Argyll, Maitland and Kirkcaldy of Grange, in short to learn to repose most upon the members of the reformed religion.19 Such practical advice, coloured by tolerance, accorded well with Mary’s own temperament and religious convictions. In religious matters, her leaning was towards the tolerance of her mother, rather than the fanaticism of a cardinal of Guise. As a born Catholic, who had known no other creed, her faith was to her like her everyday bread, something which she took for granted, and yet which was essential to her, and without which she could not imagine her existence; it was, however, in no sense an Old Testament faith, a fierce Moloch of a faith, which demanded the sacrifice of all other faiths to propitiate it, such as animated Philip II of Spain.

  Mary’s innate clemency in matters of religion has sometimes been mistaken for lukewarm convictions. The truth was that she drew a clear distinction between private faith and public policy. She herself gave Throckmorton the most explicit avowal of her beliefs, on the eve of her departure for Scotland;20 ‘I will be plain with you,’ she told him. ‘The religion which I profess I take to be the most acceptable to God; and, indeed, neither do I know, nor desire to know any other. Constancy becometh all folks well, and none better than princes, and such as have rule over realms, and specially in matters of religion. I have been brought up in this religion; and who aught would credit me in anything if I should show myself lighter in this case.’ This eloquent profession of faith can scarcely be bettered as the personal apologia of a ruler, who at the same time believed in toleration and mercy for those around her. Although Randolph wrote when she was in Scotland, ‘She wishes that all men should live as they please,’21 Knox was quick to realize that such permissiveness did not mean, as some suggested in October 1561, that the queen herself should ever be of their opinion. Mary’s personal Catholicism was total, her attitude to a state religion inclined to be pragmatic.

  Mary’s pilgrimage among her Guise relations culminated in a visit to the court of Lorraine, where Duchess Claude, her erstwhile friend, reigned in state. Claude was not destined to atone in public for the private disloyalty of her sister Elisabeth. The princess had grown proud, and used to the adulation of her little court; the widowed queen found little feminine consolation in her company. Nevertheless the Lorrainers gave her a grandiose reception, and ‘a magnificent triumph’ was planned, with cannons discharged from the city walls of Nancy, in her honour. Bishop Leslie describes how Mary was further entertained with hunting in the fields, and pleasant farces and plays.22 These diversions did not prevent her falling ill with one of those tertian fevers to which she was so subject. It is possible that the attack was induced by the mental stress of deciding about her future, now that the negotiations for the Spanish marriage were finally halted. The attack was certainly sufficiently severe and prolonged to prevent her arriving at Rheims in time for the coronation of the young Charles IX as she had planned. Instead her grandmother fetched her from Nancy to Joinville, and here even on 25th May, she was still in bed in the throes of a prolonged convalescence, and not allowed to speak to anyone except her doctors. However, by 28th May she had managed to reach Rheims, and was there entertained once again by her aunt the abbess and her uncle the cardinal. On 10th June, Mary finally returned once more to the environs of the French court, from which she had been absent for a critical three months. Her return was accompanied by the formal rejoicings which befitted her rank as a dowager queen of France. She was officially greeted a league outside Paris by the duke of Orléans, the king of Navarre, the prince of Condé and the other princes of the blood, who accompanied her in state into the town. Here she was conducted to her actual lodgings within the palace by the king, the queen mother and the entire court.

  Whether Mary’s illness was induced by indecision or not, by the time she returned to the court from her wanderings, her mind was evidently made up to return to Scotland. Although a number of factors induced her to reach this decision, it was not the only alternative open to her. Despite the secret hostility of Catherine, Mary’s rank in France entitled her to an honourable position at the French court, from which it would have been difficult to dislodge her, if she had been determined to maintain it. Her marriage contract to Francis specifically stated that in the event of his death, she was to be allowed the choice of remaining in France or returning to Scotland. Her marriage portion had made her duchess of Touraine, and her estates there and in Poitou were sufficiently widespread and lucrative to have maintained her in an adequate state; the Guise family, although somewhat blighted, were not totally destitute of power; if she remained on the Continent, it was not likely to be long before some more ardent royal suitor than Don Carlos emerged. To Mary herself must be given the credit of having personally settled for a bold course of adventure, rather than the more placid, less demanding existence which it would still have been possible for her to lead in France. The truth was that even as a young girl, Mary showed signs of having a gambling streak, and she was certainly singularly unendowed with conservatism in her nature: the familiar path was never to her automatically the most attractive path while there was another more daring route to be explored. Life in France, as she had known it so gloriously, appeared to have come to an end; but on the horizon, Scotland beckoned, which might provide in time – who could tell, but Mary was an optimist – as many golden opportunities.

  As it happened, at the same moment the Scots themselves were beginning to feel more warmly about their absent queen. Among the politicians, it was the quick-witted Maitland with his sense of international values who pointed out that Mary’s dynastic claim to the English throne could now work to the advantage of Scotland, rather than France, if she returned to her own country. They suddenly realized that a mal
leable young ruler, with a strong personal claim to succeed to the neighbouring throne, and apparently prepared to behave reasonably over religion, was certainly not to be discarded in a hurry. As a result of these cogitations, Lord James wrote a letter on 10th June which constituted a virtual invitation on behalf of the Protestant lords to return. Maitland himself wrote to Mary promising to do all he could for her service. Scotland for Mary therefore was not a pis aller, but a hopeful venture, in which her Guise blood encouraged her to expect success.

  Neither Moray nor Maitland was especially put out by the fact that Mary still declined to ratify the Treaty of Edinburgh: not unnaturally they shared Mary’s view that it was a subject that could be best dealt with once she had returned to Scotland and could consult her Council. Throckmorton on the other hand was still desperately hoping to secure the ratification. He sent Somer to Nancy in April and to Rheims in May: both missions were fruitless. Now that Mary was returning to the French court, he begged her with renewed fervour to grant long-withheld ratification. At an audience of 18th June, Mary pointed out that her health was still too frail for serious consideration of such matters, but she went on to say that since in any case she intended to return to Scotland very shortly, she would defer her answer until she had the advice of the Estates and nobles of her own realm. She told Throckmorton that she intended to embark shortly at Calais, and to this effect d’Oysel was being sent to Elizabeth with a message asking for a safe-conduct on her route back to Scotland.23

  But when d’Oysel had his interview with Elizabeth on 13th July requesting a passport for Mary, the English queen at once asked him whether he had brought the ratification of the Treaty of Edinburgh with him. D’Oysel replied that he had no instructions on the subject. At this he was greeted by such hostility from Elizabeth as well as a blank refusal to give the safe-conduct that when Mary next spoke with Throckmorton she ironically suggested they should draw apart, in case he angered her by his speech, as she herself did not wish to be witnessed giving such a display of ‘choler and stomache’ as Elizabeth had shown to d’Oysel.24 Elizabeth’s behaviour smacks of childish pique rather than statecraft, and it was not well regarded at the time, even by her own ambassador. Throckmorton was frankly amazed at the refusal and said so to Cecil: in his opinion, the sooner Mary was plucked out of the tangled web of continental intrigue, into the comparative safety of distant Scotland, the better it would be for England. The Scots were appalled, since their avowed aim in the words of Maitland was to see both queens ‘as near friends, as they were tender cousins’, with a view to getting Elizabeth to recognize Mary as her heir; now here was one tender cousin treating the other in a way more likely to lead to distant enmity than near friendship. The Venetian ambassador, a more impartial judge of the situation, described the refusal as contrary to expectation and humanity.25

  Elizabeth’s refusal gave Mary Stuart her first public opportunity of rising magnificently to a crisis. She now displayed for the first time that quality of cool courage, when in the public eye, which was to be a feature of her later career. It was courage which owed nothing to physical well-being. At the beginning of July Mary had a renewed attack of the tertian fever, and when Throckmorton saw her on 9th July he noted that it had ‘somewhat appaired her cheer’, although Mary herself dismissed it lightly and said that the worst was over. Now, when she received Throckmorton on 20th July at Saint-Germain, having heard the news of the denied passport, she was infinitely composed; in a series of speeches to the English ambassador of fine histrionic power, she showed herself to be not only brave, but also reasonable and even charitable towards the woman who had thus rejected her – as well as incidentally having an eloquent command of language.26 Like an actress before an audience, the eighteen-year-old queen seemed to derive strength from the fact that the eyes of Europe were upon her. Her interviews with Throckmorton lead one to the conclusion that Mary, far from being daunted by the drama of the situation, was positively inspired by it.

  She began by expressing in polite terms her regrets that she should have bothered Throckmorton by demanding a passport which she did not in fact require. She had reached France in safety, she pointed out proudly, in spite of the efforts of the king of England to intercept her. Thirteen years later, she would surely once more reach her own country with her own people to help her. Mary also told Throckmorton that she had no intention of ratifying the treaty until she reached her own land, where she would have the benefit of the advice of the Estates, since she was bound neither in honour nor in conscience to perform what her late husband had commanded. But as a proof that she wished to live in amity with the English queen, Mary also pointed out on the vexed point of the English arms that since the death of both her father-in-law and husband she had borne neither arms nor title.

  The next day Throckmorton came to see her again, and Mary spoke to him with renewed oratorical fervour. ‘Monsieur l’Ambassadeur, if my preparations were not so much advanced as they are, peradventure the Queen, your Mistress’ unkindness might stay my voyage; but now I am determined to adventure the matter, whatsoever come of it; I trust the wind will be so favourable as I shall not need to come on the coast of England; and if I do, Monsieur l’Ambassadeur, the Queen your Mistress shall have me in her hands to do her will of me; and if she be so hard-hearted as to desire my end, she may then do her pleasure, and make sacrifice of me; peradventure that casualty might be better for me than to live,’ added Mary dramatically, although one suspects her real expectations were somewhat less pessimistic. ‘In this matter, God’s will be fulfilled,’ she concluded and, in a final superb gesture, embraced the attendant Throck-morton.27

  Mary followed up the interview with a friendly letter to Elizabeth to see if the safe-conduct could still be obtained, but without awaiting the answer, she forthwith made her preparations to leave France, passport or no passport. On 25th July, she departed from the court of Saint-Germain, here bidding adieu to King Charles, Queen Catherine and the majority of the nobility who had known her throughout childhood, youth and marriage. According to Leslie, the ancient Franco-Scottish alliance was not forgotten at this final moment and confirmation was made of ‘a perpetual friendship to stand among them, as it had been between their predecessors, by most ancient band and league, inviolably in all times past’.28 When the grand farewell fête, which was held in her honour at Saint-Germain, and lasted for four days, was over, the young queen set out for Calais, accompanied by her six uncles and other members of the court. The train stopped at Merly, the constable’s house, on their way, where both the cardinal and duke of Guise fell ill overnight – although in this case the proverbial rumours of poison which greeted the incident were made less realistic by the fact that the king of Navarre was also stricken. On 3rd August, Mary was still at Beauvais, and Throckmorton then followed her on to Abbeville, where on 7th August, he had a final interview with the queen, at which both reiterated their former arguments, Mary laying special emphasis on the fact that since she was acting without the advice of her uncles, she genuinely needed to obtain the advice of the Scots before she proceeded further – ‘I do so much know mine own infirmity that I will do nothing … without counsel.’29

  On 8th August Throckmorton bid the queen a last goodbye. The admiration which the ambassador felt for the queen seems to have been reciprocated. Always generous to those who served her, Mary wrote to Lady Throckmorton the day before she sailed from Calais, saying that she had charged her maître d’hôtel to visit her and give her a present as a remembrance of her affection, and a token of the regard which she felt for her husband. Lady Throckmorton subsequently received two basins, two ewers, two salts and a standing cup, all of gilt. A zealous Protestant, whose career in England had been under a cloud during the reign of the Catholic Mary Tudor, when he was tried for complicity in the Wyatt rebellion, in France Throckmorton openly hated the Catholic Guises and admired the Huguenots. Yet he was clearly fascinated by the Catholic queen of Scots, as were so many of Queen Elizabeth’s servitors who
were to come into personal contact with her. As Mary was beginning to expand in her mind the possibilities of meeting the queen of England face to face, perhaps Elizabeth at the same moment was already digesting the fact that personal contact with the queen of Scots was apt to have an alarmingly seductive effect on the listener.

  On the evening of 8th August, Mary rode to the abbey of Forest Monstrier, where she decided to send the lord of St Colme Inch and Alexander Erskine to England, accompanied by Throckmorton’s servant Tremaine, for a final appeal for the passport. Before the effects of this letter could be felt – once again its tone was extremely friendly – the preparations for Mary’s journey had been completed. The queen and her party were to travel in two galleys, accompanied by two ships. The preparations were not left entirely in the hands of the French. The hereditary Lord High Admiral of Scotland was also involved – this was none other than James Hepburn, earl of Bothwell. This spirited border lord had already swum into the ken of the Scottish queen during the previous autumn, when he had arrived at the French court for the first time. He did so characteristically, out of financial necessity, abandoning his Norwegian mistress, Anna Throndsen, in Flanders, while he made the expedition to seek further funds. Bothwell had been kindly received by Mary and Francis, and as he put it himself, ‘The Queen recompensed me more liberally and honourably than I had deserved’30 – these particular benefits being a present of 600 crowns as well as the post and salary of gentleman of the king’s chamber. On this occasion Throckmorton had suspected some political coup and warned his correspondents in London that Bothwell needed watching, for he was a ‘glorious [i.e. vainglorious], rash and hazardous young man’.31 He paid a further visit to France in the spring, and by 5th July was back in Paris for the third time;* this time he was accompanied by the bishop of Orkney, himself a seaman of distinction, and Lord Eglinton, no stranger to nautical enterprise in the sense that he was generally suspected of piracy. As for Elizabeth, too late she relaxed her fury; by the time she wrote back to Mary denying any intention of ‘impeaching’ her passage, and saying that she had no ships at sea except for two or three small barks to apprehend pirates who were attacking the North Sea fishermen, Mary was no longer in France to receive the letter.