Mary, Queen of Scots, and the Murder of Lord Darnley

by Alison Weir

  After Mary had left, Darnley asked Crawford what he thought of his journeying to Edinburgh. “I answered that I liked it not, because she took him to Craigmillar; for if she had desired him with herself, or to have had his company, she would have taken him to his own house in Edinburgh, where she might more easily visit him than to travel two miles out of the town. Therefore, my opinion was that she took him away more like a prisoner than her husband.” Darnley said “that he thought little less himself, and found himself indeed [a prisoner], save the confidence he had in her promise only; notwithstanding, he would go with her, and put himself in her hands, though she should cut his throat, and besought God to have mercy on them both.” This passage seems all too contrived: Mary’s detractors from Buchanan down have often concluded that she planned to lure Darnley to Craigmillar so that he could be murdered there, and that he feared just this because his enemies had plotted against him there, but in fact the choice of Craigmillar would have been a sensible one, not only because of the healthier air and greater security, but also because Prince James was at Holyrood and Mary did not wish to expose him to any risk of infection.

  Mary’s enemies later claimed that, while she was at Glasgow, she wrote Casket Letter II to Bothwell. This is by far the longest, most compromising and most controversial of the Casket Letters, and it seems to have been written during at least two sittings, the first of which was allegedly on 23 January. The composition of the letter suggests that it was an amalgamation of two letters—not necessarily by the same writer—since the tone becomes more emotional and conscience-stricken halfway through and there are unnecessary repetitions. One of these letters was almost certainly a report written by Mary to Moray, Maitland or Bothwell on her interview with Darnley, and the other either a more personal letter to Bothwell—which would be most damning—or a complete forgery. There is no greeting, of course, but Moray’s Journal13states that at this time Mary was writing letters to Bothwell; and Paris, in his second deposition, claimed that he delivered this letter to Bothwell and carried back an answer the next day, which cannot have reached her before she left Glasgow. Casket Letter II cannot have been written in its entirety to Maitland or Moray because in it they are referred to in the third person. The 3,132-word letter is here quoted at length because of its crucial importance, and the abridged text is as follows:14

  Being gone from the place where I had left my heart, it may be easily judged what my countenance was, considering what the body [is] without [the] heart, which was cause that till dinner I had used little talk, neither would anybody venture [to] advance himself thereunto, thinking that it was not good so to do.

  There follows the passage recounting Mary’s exchange with Crawford and other events relating to her arrival in Glasgow. She adds:

  Not one of the town is come to speak with me, which maketh me to think that they be his [Lennox’s], and they so speaketh well of them [the Lennoxes], at least his son.

  The King sent for Joachim [Paris] and asked him why I did not lodge nigh to him, and that he would rise sooner, and why I came, whether it were for any good appointment that he came, and whether I had not taken Paris and Gilbert to write, and that I sent Joseph [Lutini]. I wonder who hath told him so much, even of the [coming] marriage of Bastien [Pagez]. This bearer shall tell you more upon that.

  This suggests that Darnley had at least one spy at court, and it has been argued that this was Sir James Balfour, which is quite possible. The reference to Bastien’s wedding has been seen as sinister, for it was on the night after that wedding that Darnley was murdered. The implication is perhaps that Mary feared Darnley might find out what she and Bothwell had planned for that night, but that is improbable, for at this time the intention was to take him to Craigmillar, not Kirk o’Field, and it is clear that the gunpowder plot was not decided upon until after Darnley had gone to Kirk o’Field. An alternative theory is that Darnley was hoping to use Bastien’s wedding as cover for his own treacherous plans, but he could not, at this stage, have predicted Mary’s movements on that day. Mary’s reference to the wedding is therefore probably innocuous, and merely illustrates her concern that Darnley was so well informed.

  The next section of the letter reports the conversation that Crawford recorded, and it will be seen that the two passages have great similarity, although the account in Casket Letter II is more detailed in parts.

  I asked him [Darnley] of his letters and where he did complain of the cruelty of some of them. He said that he did dream, and that he was so glad to see me that he thought he should die; indeed, that he has found fault with me that I was pensive.15

  I went my way to sup. He [Darnley] prayed me to come again, which I did, and he told me his grief, and that he would make no testament but leave all unto me, and that I was the cause of his sickness for the sorrow he had, that I was so strange unto him. “And [said he] you asked what I meant in my letter to speak of cruelty. It was of your cruelty, who will not accept my offers and repentance. I avow that I have done amiss, but not that [which] I have also always disavowed, and so have many other of your subjects done, and you have well pardoned them. I am young. You will say that you have also pardoned me in my time and that I return to my fault. May not a man of my age, for want of counsel, fail twice or thrice and at the last repent and rebuke himself by his experience? If I may obtain this pardon, I protest I will not make fault again. And I ask nothing but that we may be at bed and table together as husband and wife; and if you will not, I will never rise from this bed. I pray you tell me your resolution hereof. God knoweth that I am punished for having made my god of you and had no other mind but of you. And when I offend you sometime, you are cause thereof: for if I thought, when anybody doth any wrong to me, that I might for my resource make my moan thereof unto you, I would open it to no other. But when I hear anything, being not familiar with you, I must keep it in my mind, and that troubleth my wit for anger.”16

  I did still answer him, but that I shall be too long. In the end, I asked him whether he would go in the English ship. He doth disavow it and sweareth so, and confesseth to have spoken to the men.

  Afterwards, I asked him of the inquisition of Hiegait. He denied it till I told him the very words, [then he said] that it was said that some of the Council had brought me a letter to sign to put him in prison and to kill him if he did resist, and that he asked this of Minto himself, who said unto him that he thought it was true. I will talk with him tomorrow upon that point. The rest as Willie Hiegait hath confessed, but it was the next day that he came hither.

  In the end, he desired much that I should lodge in his lodging. I have refused it. I have told him that he must be purged, and that could not be done here. He said unto me, “I have heard say that you have brought the litter, but I would rather have gone with yourself.” I told him that I would myself bring him to Craigmillar, that the physicians and I also might cure him without being far from my son. He said that he was ready when I would, so as I would assure him of his request.

  He hath no desire to be seen, and waxeth angry when I speak to him of Walker, and saith that he will pluck his ears from his head and that he lieth. For I asked him before of that and what cause he had to complain of some of the Lords and to threaten them. He denieth it and saith that he had already prayed them to think no such matter of him. As for myself, he would rather lose his life than do me the least displeasure, and then used so many kinds of flatteries so coldly and wisely as you would marvel at. I had forgotten that he said that he could not mistrust me for Hiegait’s word, for he could not believe that his own flesh (which was myself) would do him any hurt; and indeed it was said that I refused to have him to subscribe the same.17But for the others he would at least sell his life dear enough, but that he did suspect nobody, nor would, but love all that I did love.

  He would not let me go, but would have me to watch with him. I made as though I thought all to be true, and that I would think about it, and have excused myself from sitting up with him this night, for he saith
that he sleepeth not. You have never heard him speak better nor more humbly, and if I had not proof of his heart to be as wax, and that mine were not as a diamond, no stroke but coming from your hand would make me but to have pity on him. But fear not, for the place [i.e., her love or loyalty] shall continue till death. Remember also, in recompense thereof, not to suffer yours to be won by that false race [probably the Countess Jean] that would do no less to yourself. I think they [Darnley and Jean] have been at school together.

  He has always the tears in his eye. He saluteth every man, even to the meanest, and maketh much of them that they may take pity of him. His father has bled this day at the nose and at the mouth—guess what token that is. I have not seen him: he is in his chamber. The King is so desirous that I should give him meat with my own hands, but trust you no more there where you are than I do here.

  In sixteenth-century France, bleeding from the nose was believed to indicate fear. Lennox was certainly fearful of Mary, and with good reason, for if Darnley’s conspiracy were to be discovered, there would be no mercy for either of them.

  This is my first day.18I will end [the letter] tomorrow. I write all, how little consequence soever it be, to the end that you may take of the whole that shall be best for you to judge. I do here a work that I hate much, but I had begun it this morning.19Had you not list to laugh, to see me so trimly make a lie, at the least dissemble, and to mingle truth therewith.

  He hath almost told me all on the Bishop’s behalf, and of Sutherland, without touching any word unto him of that which you had told me, but only by much flattering him and praying him, and by my complaining of the Bishop, I have taken the worms out of his nose. You have heard the rest.

  “The Bishop” may refer to the Nuncio, Mondovi, with whom there is reason to believe Darnley may have been in contact. The fact that he is not named implies that Bothwell and Mary were already aware of his dealings with Darnley, but it may be that the messenger had instructions to give Bothwell a verbal account of Darnley’s dealings with him, as confessed to Mary, which is suggested by the last sentence in the paragraph. Sutherland was a staunch Catholic, and was perhaps one of Darnley’s supporters, although there is no evidence that Mary took any reprisals against him for it. The sentence “I have taken the worms out of his nose” means “I have drawn it all out of him,” and is a French colloquialism that appears in another letter of Mary’s, dated 5 October 1568.20

  We are tied by two false races [Lennoxes and Gordons]. The good Devil21 sunder us, and God knit us together for ever for the most faithful couple that ever He did knit together. This is my faith: I will die in it.

  Excuse it if I write ill. You must guess the one half I cannot do withal, for I am ill at ease, and glad to write unto you when other folk be asleep, seeing that I cannot do as they do [i.e., sleep], according to my desire, that is, between your arms, my dear life, whom I beseech God to preserve from all ill, and send you good rest as I go to seek mine, till tomorrow in the morning that will end my note.22But it grieveth me that it should let [prevent] me from writing unto you of news of myself, so much I have to write.

  Send me word what you have determined hereupon, that we may know the one the other’s mind for marring of anything.

  I am weary, and am going to sleep, and yet I cannot forbear scribbling so long as there is any paper. Cursed be this pocky fellow [Darnley] that troubleth me thus much, for I had a pleasanter matter to discourse unto you, but for him. He is not much the worse, but he is ill arrayed.23I thought I should have been killed with his breath, for it is worse than your uncle’s breath, and yet I was sat no nearer to him than in a chair by his bolster,24and he lieth at the further side of the bed.

  The reference to “your uncle” has been seen as proof that this part of the letter was not addressed to Bothwell, since he did not have an uncle as such; however, the writer may be referring to his great-uncle, the promiscuous Bishop of Moray, who may have been syphilitic, which would perhaps account for his foul breath. Furthermore, this part of the letter is written in more emotional language than the section in which Mary gives an account of her interview with Darnley, and is not likely to have formed part of the report. This reference to “your uncle” is not the only example of the forger’s carelessness, as will be seen.

  The first section of the letter appears to end at this point, and there follows a list of subjects that the writer has obviously intended as an aide-mémoire, to remind her to include them in the letter. They read:

  The message of the father, by the way.

  The talk of Sir James Hamilton [surname deleted] of the ambassador.

  That the Lord of Luss hath told me of the delay.

  The questions that he [Darnley] asked of Joachim.

  Of my state.

  Of my company.

  And of Joseph.

  The talk that he [Darnley] and I had, and of his desire to please me, of

  his repentance, and of the interpretation of his letter.

  Of Will Hiegait’s doing, and of his departure, and of the Lord of Liv-

  ingston.

  Most of these subjects had already been covered; later on, the writer refers to running out of paper and being obliged to use her memo sheet.

  The letter then continues:

  I had forgotten of the Lord of Livingston, that he at supper said softly to the Lady Reres, that he drank to the persons I knew of, if I would pledge them. And after supper, he said softly to me, when I was leaning upon him and warming myself, “You may well go and see sick folk, yet can you not be so welcome unto them as you have this day left somebody in pain.” I asked him who it was; he took me about the body and said, “One of his folks that has left you this day.” Guess you the rest.

  This day I have wrought till two of the clock on this bracelet, to put the key in the cleft of it, which is tied with two laces. I have had so little time that it is very ill, but I will make a fairer; and in the meantime take heed that none of those that be here do see it, for I have made it in haste in their presence.

  Some writers have seen a connection between this bracelet and the ones stolen by Lutini, but there is no evidence of any. What is significant is that Mary warned Bothwell not to let anyone see the bracelet she was making for him, presumably because people might draw conclusions at the sight of such a personal gift.

  Mary apparently completed the above section of the letter in the early hours of 24 January. In the morning, she resumed her writing again:

  I go to my tedious talk [i.e., with Darnley]. You make me dissemble so much that I am afraid thereof with horror, and you make me almost play the part of a traitor. Remember that, if it were not for obeying, I had rather be dead. My heart bleedeth for it.

  After seeing Darnley, Mary continued, opening with a phrase she often used, “summa” or “en somme” (literally “in sum”):

  To be short, he will not come but with condition that I shall promise to be with him as heretofore at bed and board, and that I shall forsake him no more; and upon my word, he will do whatever I will, and will come, but he hath prayed me to tarry till after tomorrow.

  He hath spoken at the first more stoutly, as this bearer shall tell you, upon the matter of the Englishman, and of his departure, but in the end he cometh to his gentleness again.

  He hath told me, among other talk, that he knew well that my brother [Moray] hath told me at Stirling that which he had said there, whereof he denied the half, and specially that he was in his chamber. But now, to make him trust me, I must feign something unto him; and therefore, when he desired me to promise that, when he should be well, we should make but one bed, I told him, feigning to believe his fair promises, that if he did not change his mind between this time and that, I was contented so as he would say nothing thereof: for (to tell it between us two), the Lords wished no ill to him, but did fear lest, considering the threatening which he made in case we did agree together, he would make them feel the small account they have made of him, and that he would persuade me to pursue some o
f them, and for this respect should be in jealousy if, at one instance, without their knowledge, I did raise the game to the contrary in their presence.

  And he said unto me, very pleasant and merry, “Think you that they do the more esteem you therefor? But I am glad that you talked to me of the Lords. I hope that you desire now that we shall live a happy life; for if it were otherwise, it could not be but greater inconvenience should happen to us both than you think. But I will do now whatsoever you will have me do. I will love all those that you shall love, and so you make them to love me also. For so as they seek not my life, I love them all equally.” Thereupon I have willed this bearer to tell you many pretty things, for I have too much to write and it is late, and I trust him, upon your word. To be short [summa], he will go anywhere on my word.

  Alas! I never deceived anybody, but I remit myself wholly to your will; and send me word what I shall do, and, whatsoever happen to me, I will obey you. Think also if you will not find some invention more secret by physic, for he is to take physic at Craigmillar, and the baths also, and shall not come forth of long time.

  In The Book of Articles, it is alleged that, whilst at Glasgow, Mary “wrote to Bothwell to see if he might find out a more secret [way] by medicine to cut [Darnley] off.” Lennox claims that Mary also wrote in this letter “that Bothwell should in no wise fail to despatch his wife, and to give her the drink as they had devised before,” which is what de Silva heard, but there is no evidence of this in the surviving text. It could be that Lennox had seen an early draft of the doctored letter, but if that was so, it was far more logical for any forger to have retained such incriminating evidence than to have edited it out. The conclusion must be, therefore, that Lennox had made up this detail.