by Alison Weir
Had the letters been genuine, Moray could triumphantly have challenged Mary’s commissioners to find fault with them; yet he did no such thing. Nor did he produce the witnesses, Dalgleish and Paris, who could have testified to the discovery of the casket and the sending of the letters: conveniently, Dalgleish was dead, and Paris detained in Denmark.
At York, the Lords swore that the Scots copies of the Casket Letters that they showed privately to the Lords were the originals; yet at Westminster, they affirmed that the French copies that they produced in evidence were the originals. They were either lying in the former case, or their meaning was misunderstood by the English commissioners.
Elizabeth herself, on seeing the Casket Letters, professed to be shocked and declared that they “contained many matters unmeet to be repeated before honest ears, and easily drawn to be apparent proof against the Queen.”12 Yet she took care never to express an opinion on their authenticity, and showed regret that Moray had so rashly produced them in public. But Elizabeth’s considerations were political, not moral, and her main preoccupation was the security of her throne and kingdom; there was also a strong feeling in England that Mary was guilty, which she dared not ignore. Her priority was to find an excuse to keep the Scottish Queen under lock and key, a course with which the Lords heartily concurred. Thus, given the political agenda of the inquiry, the Casket Letters were never subjected to any independent scrutiny.
After the inquiry, Leslie, who had had plenty of dealings with the English commissioners, claimed that “the nobles of England that were appointed to hear and examine all such matters as the rebels should lay against the Queen, have not only found the said Queen innocent and guiltless of the death of her husband, but do fully understand that her accusers were the very contrivers, devisers, practitioners and workers of the said murder, perfectly knowing her innocency.” As for modern assertions that Norfolk believed in Mary’s guilt, Elizabeth herself said, “The Queen of Scots will never want an advocate so long as the Duke of Norfolk lives.”13
There is no escaping the fact that much of Moray’s other evidence—the Book of Articles, the depositions, the Lennox Narrative—was deliberately falsified in order to deflect suspicion from his own party and lay it on Mary. It is also true that the Confederate Lords had broken every one of their promises made to Mary at Carberry Hill. They were men without honour, capable of deception and duplicity, and would certainly not have scrupled at counterfeiting some letters in their own interests. On the other hand, there is no evidence that Mary falsified any evidence, either before or after Darnley’s murder. As for her actions after the murder, it has been demonstrated that she was ill, mentally and physically, and had consequently, by her own admission, lost control of her affairs. The Lords had taken full advantage of this.
Lady Reres features as Mary’s confidante in Casket Letter II, and also as her bawd in the Detectio, the Book of Articles and the deposition of Paris. Yet, although she was in attendance at the birth of James VI, there is no other evidence that Lady Reres was especially close to Mary: she was not listed as belonging to the Queen’s household,14nor was she remembered in Mary’s Will.15
As to who may have forged and manipulated the letters, many writers point the finger at Maitland, who himself admitted that he was easily able to counterfeit Mary’s handwriting. But Maitland was in bad odour with the Lords from before Carberry Hill, and later became Mary’s man; he also warned Norfolk that the letters were possibly forged. A more likely forger is Morton’s kinsman, the unscrupulous Archibald Douglas, who, as has been seen, was almost certainly the man who had murdered Darnley, and who therefore had every motive for pinning the blame on Mary. Douglas had spent time in France and presumably learned the language, but, more pertinently, was accused in 1581 of forging letters from Bishop Leslie to Esmé Stuart, Duke of Lennox, favourite of James VI. Were these the first damning letters he had counterfeited?
In the light of all the evidence, it is impossible to resist the conclusion that the Casket Letters were fabrications. As far as the commission was concerned, however, their importance lay not so much in their contents as in their usefulness.
29
“MUCH REMAINS TO BE EXPLAINED”
ON 9 DECEMBER—TOO LATE to prevent the Casket Letters from being offered in evidence—the protest of Mary’s commissioners was received in its amended form by Cecil. Having now discovered what had happened in their absence, Leslie and his colleagues made a further objection against the travesty of justice whereby such dramatic evidence was produced at hearings at which they had not been present, and demanded the summary arrest of those who had laid such charges against their sovereign. When this was refused, they again withdrew from the conference, which should, of course, have immediately been terminated.1
When they had gone, the English commissioners proceeded as if nothing had happened, and continued to read and peruse the Casket Letters, which had now been translated into English, and the other evidence presented by Moray. Morton gave, on oath, his account of the discovery of the Casket Letters, which was based on a written declaration he had given to Cecil the previous day.2Many writers have given credence to Morton’s words, but they can be proved inaccurate in at least one respect, for he claimed that Dalgleish was caught with Bothwell’s patent of creation as Duke of Orkney on him; Bothwell in fact had this with him when he arrived in Norway. Finally, Thomas Nelson and Thomas Crawford appeared in camera as witnesses for the Lords, Crawford offering a revised version of his earlier testimony as to what passed between Mary and Darnley at Glasgow.
The next day, the Lords swore on oath that the Casket Letters were “undoubtedly” in Mary’s handwriting. The commissioners then adjourned for the weekend, but on Monday, 12 December, examples of Mary’s handwriting were exhibited to them, allowing them to make comparisons with the calligraphy of the Casket Letters. Leslie, hearing of this, protested that these comparisons constituted no legal proof of Mary’s authorship, but merely reflected the opinions of the commissioners.
On the 13th, another deposition by Thomas Crawford was produced, this time recounting what Hepburn and Hay had said to him from the scaffold nine months before. That day, Elizabeth decided to further enlarge her commission: to avoid any accusation of partiality, she summoned her remaining Privy Councillors and six more earls to view the evidence; among them were the Catholic Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland, who had not arrived in time for the opening of the Westminster conference.
The enlarged commission met at Hampton Court for the final session of the conference, which lasted from 14 to 15 December. During it, the proceedings of the inquiry were read out, and the commissioners were given the chance to study and consider the evidence, including the Casket Letters. Afterwards, the English nobles expressed gratitude to the Queen for revealing to them the particulars of the inquiry, “wherein they had seen such foul matter as they thought truly in their consciences that Her Majesty’s position was justified.” They agreed that Mary’s guilt was, “upon things now produced, made more apparent,” and said that “they could not allow it as meet for Her Majesty’s honour to admit the said Queen to Her Majesty’s presence, as the case now did stand.” De Silva, however, heard that the peers were not unanimous in their conclusions, and that, at the last meeting of the conference on the 15th, some had the courage to check the unseemly violence of Cecil’s attitude towards the Queen of Scots.3
Elizabeth had nevertheless achieved her aim: the evidence against Mary had been aired before the most influential men in the kingdom, yet the Scottish Queen had never been heard in her own defence. Furthermore, the blame for this could be laid squarely on the shoulders of Mary and her commissioners, who had seemingly boycotted the inquiry, from which it might be inferred that there was no defence that they could offer. It was in this climate that Elizabeth declared the conference at an end.
Wishing to be seen as fair-minded, Elizabeth made a point of seeing Mary’s commissioners on 16 December, and, “with many expressions of sy
mpathy” for their mistress, reminded them that the Regent’s evidence constituted “very great presumptions and arguments to confirm the common report against the said Queen.” She told them that she was willing to reopen the inquiry if Mary agreed to answer Moray’s charges, either through her commissioners, or in writing, or to a delegation of English nobles. Leslie and Herries wrote to Mary at once, urging her to compromise, so that she would not be assumed guilty “of such horrible crimes only for lack of coming into Her Majesty’s presence,” adding that Elizabeth had said that, if Mary refused all three options, “it will be thought as much as if she were culpable.”
But Mary ignored their advice. On 19 December, she angrily rejected all Elizabeth’s proposals, declaring that she could hardly be expected to answer charges based on evidence that she had not been allowed to examine, nor would she “answer otherwise than in person” before Elizabeth. Instead, she instructed her commissioners to ask for copies of all the writings produced against her, commanding that they themselves must see the originals. Then, “by God’s grace, we shall make such answer thereto that our innocence shall be known to our good sister and to all other princes.”
In the same letter, Mary belatedly drew up a list of her own charges against Moray, declaring that, in his Eik, he and his fellows had “falsely, traitorously and miscreantly lied, imputing to us the crime whereof they themselves are authors, inventors, doers and executors,” a crime of which she now formally accused them. She expressed outrage at the Lords’ accusation that she had plotted the death of her own child, which “calumny should suffice for proof and inquisition of all the rest, for the natural love of a mother towards her bairn confounds them.” She referred back to the murder of Rizzio, when the Lords themselves would have “slain the mother and the bairn both when he was in our womb.” Lastly, she condemned Moray’s Regency as manifestly unlawful.4
This letter had not yet reached London when, on 21 December, despite heavy snow, Elizabeth sent some of Mary’s commissioners to Bolton to give her a detailed report of the inquiry. With them, they carried a letter from the English Queen, informing Mary that as we have been very sorry of long time for your mishaps and great troubles, so find we our sorrows now double in beholding such things as are produced to prove yourself cause of all the same; and our grief herein is also increased in that we did not think at any time to have seen or heard such matters of so great appearance and moment to charge and condemn you. Nevertheless, both in friendship, nature and justice, we are moved to stay our judgement before we may hear of your direct answer thereunto. We cannot but, as one prince and near cousin regarding another, as earnestly as we may, require and charge you not to forbear answering.5
Elizabeth had seemingly forgotten her earlier declarations that she would pass no judgement on Mary’s case; she was now more concerned with the fact that Mary could not be found guilty unless she had put forward a defence. She ended her letter by telling Mary that she would be “heartily glad and well content to hear of sufficient matter for your discharge.” Yet, on the day after this was written, Cecil drafted a memorandum that envisaged Mary’s detention in England as the ideal outcome of the inquiry; it would be best, he wrote, if she was “to remain in the realm and not depart until she has repaired the wrong done by her claim to the crown.” This was the crux of the matter. Moreover, Cecil was of the opinion that, even if Moray and the Lords had been accessories to Darnley’s murder and the Bothwell marriage, Mary was probably guilty too. But regardless of whether she was guilty or not, England’s security was paramount.
Leslie and Herries were not optimistic about the outcome of the inquiry. They realised that, if Mary would not answer the Lords’ case, her position would be perilous indeed. Again they tried to bring about a compromise, in the interests of preserving Mary’s honour. They suggested three alternatives: firstly, Mary could ratify her abdication and live out her life in retirement in England; secondly, she and James could rule Scotland as joint sovereigns, while Moray retained the Regency; thirdly, she could remain Queen of Scots, but live in seclusion in England while Moray ruled in her name as Regent. Moray rejected the last two suggestions, but urged that Elizabeth press Mary to agree to the first. Elizabeth naturally favoured this course, since it would remove the need for her to pronounce judgement, and accordingly, she wrote to Knollys on 22 December, ordering him to suggest to Mary, “as if from yourself,” that, in view of her refusal to answer the charges, her wisest course would be to accept Moray’s government, commit her cause “to perpetual silence,” and live in England as a private person for the rest of her life. Leslie, who had suggested this course, urged Mary to take it.6
On 22 December, having learned that Herries and Leslie were planning to accuse the Scottish Lords of the murder of Darnley, Lindsay wrote to Herries and challenged him to a duel. Herries replied: “That you were privy to it, Lord Lindsay, I know not; and if you will say that I have specially spoken of you, you lied in your throat.” He added that he was willing to take up a challenge from the “principals” in the murder, which was probably a reference to Moray, Maitland and Morton.
Herries and Leslie met with the English commissioners on Christmas Eve and informed them that they had been authorised by Mary to charge the Regent and his colleagues with Darnley’s murder. The next day, they presented to Elizabeth Mary’s list of charges against the Scottish Lords, and asked to see the writings produced against their Queen. Elizabeth said she thought this a “very reasonable” request, and said she was glad to hear that “her good sister would make answer in that manner for the defence of her honour.”
Meanwhile, at Bolton, Knollys had been urging Mary to answer the accusations of her enemies. Upon receiving Elizabeth’s letter of 22 December, he told Mary that she stood “in a very hard case,” and if she would not answer the charges, she would “provoke” Elizabeth “to take you as condemned, and to publish the same, to your utter disgrace and infamy, especially in England. And after this sort [he continued] I began to strike as great terror into her as I could. She answered stoutly as she would make all other princes know how evil she was handled, coming upon trust into this realm, and saith, ‘I am sure the Queen will not condemn me, hearing only mine adversaries, and not me.’ ” Knollys answered, “Yet she will condemn you if you condemn yourself by not answering.” He told her that the best way of saving her honour and consigning all the accusations against her to oblivion was to resign her crown to her son and “remain in England a convenient time.”
“The judgement of the world would in such a case condemn me,” Mary replied. Knollys suggested she “think better on it at her pleasure,” and left. He warned Elizabeth he did not believe that Mary would ever be brought to answer the charges against her without being assured beforehand that judgement would be given in her favour, “unless your Council would take a short answer for a sufficient answer: that is to say, that the accusations of her adversaries are false because that she, on the word of a prince, will say that they are false.” It was unreasonable, of course, for the English to expect Mary to answer Moray’s accusations without seeing the evidence, or being allowed to defend herself in person; she told Knollys that she could easily overturn the Lords’ case, but had never had any intention of answering it before anyone other than Elizabeth, her equal. It is hardly surprising that, in these circumstances, Mary expected judgement to be given in her favour, yet it was perhaps rash of her to stand on her dignity as a sovereign ruler and refuse to answer the charges of her subjects, when, as Knollys had so succinctly pointed out, she stood in such a hard case.
At long last, Mary was beginning to perceive that the English were in collusion with Moray, and that Elizabeth’s fair words had all along masked a steely determination to maintain the present state of affairs. Around this time, Mary wrote to Mar, begging him to guard James and not allow him to be brought openly to England or taken by stealth.7
On 28 December, Mary’s commissioners met again with the English commissioners, and were disturbed to
learn that the latter were almost to a man convinced of the soundness of the Scottish Lords’ case, “notwithstanding our reasons to the contrary.” Things now looked very dismal indeed for Mary.
At Bolton, on 1 January 1569, Lord Scrope added his persuasions to those of Knollys, urging a doubtful Mary to abdicate. Mary said she would think on their advice and give them her answer in two days. Afterwards, Knollys and Scrope reported to Elizabeth that she would never yield.8
Mary must have felt isolated and friendless. Leslie’s efforts to reach an honourable compromise had almost amounted to a betrayal. She could trust no one, for there was no one who did not have an ulterior motive. They were all urging her to abdicate, as if she were guilty, but if she did as everyone urged, she would virtually be acknowledging her guilt. This made her mind up. On 3 January, she told Knollys that her resolution was unalterably fixed, and that she would prefer death to the ignominious terms proposed by her enemies.9
Back at court, the Earl of Arundel told Elizabeth plainly on 4 January that one who had a crown could hardly persuade another sovereign to leave her crown because her subjects would not obey her. “It may be a new doctrine in Scotland, but it is not good to be taught in England.” However, Elizabeth’s course was set, and she was impervious to arguments.
Mary was trying to gather evidence against the Lords. On 5 January, she sent Huntly the famous written declaration of what had taken place at Craigmillar in December 1566, which she required him and Argyll to sign as a true record of events, and which implied that Maitland and Moray were the instigators of the plot against Darnley. The two Earls were to affirm that, “the murder of the said Henry Stuart following, we judge in our consciences that the said Earl of Moray and Secretary Lethington were authors, inventors, devisers, counsellors and causers of the said murder, in what manner or by whatsoever persons the same was executed.”10 As has been argued, this was probably the truth, but Huntly and Argyll were also implicated in the murder, although Mary may not have been aware of this. Unfortunately for her, this document was intercepted by English spies, and was in Cecil’s hands by 19 January, for it was on that date that Moray wrote his answer to it, for Cecil’s benefit.