An Accidental Tragedy
Page 22
This was all a very far cry from the lavish ceremony of her marriage to the Dauphin. Neither Moray nor Randolph attended, and although there was dancing and largesse, many people present, including even some of the Maries, dreaded to imagine what the outcome might be. The next day, at nine o’clock in the morning, heralds proclaimed Darnley King of Scotland, and declared that the marriage – which had gone ahead long before the papal authorisation had been received – was fully ‘solemnised and complete’, and also that henceforth all royal correspondence should in the names of ‘both their majesties’. Lennox called out, ‘God save his grace,’ but the rest of the nobility were silent and the country held its breath. Moray, rather glumly, hoped that the royal couple, being youthful, might be tractable.
Elizabeth sent one John Tamworth to intercede in the now-increasing split in the loyalty of the nobility, notwithstanding ‘her strange proceedings in her own realm’, and ‘friendly and neighbourly to admonish her’. He was told to refuse to accept Darnley as Mary’s husband and to remind him and his father that the Countess of Lennox’s treatment in the Tower depended on their behaviour. Elizabeth was deeply regretting her endorsement of Darnley as a match for Mary.
Before Tamworth could arrive, Moray was summoned to appear before Mary within six days and to explain himself. The nobility were summoned to meet Mary at Linlithgow on 24 August with supplies for a fifteen-day military campaign. To no one’s surprise Moray did not appear and was ‘put to the horn’; meaning that he was now beyond the law, and could be apprehended or even killed by anyone in the queen’s name, while his lands and possessions were forfeited to the crown. In quick succession Rothes and Kirkcaldy of Grange followed Moray as outlaws.
When Tamworth arrived – delayed by ‘evil horses’ on the way – he received a predictably chilly response – ‘she was marvellous stout’ – as well as the inevitable assurance that there would be no change in religion; he was also informed that the plight of the Earl of Moray was an internal matter for Scotland. Mary also issued a threat to Elizabeth: ‘I am not so lowly born, nor yet have I such small alliances abroad, that if compelled by your mistress to enter into “practices” with foreign powers, she shall find them of such small account as she believes.’ This was repeated more diplomatically in a letter by Darnley and Mary to Elizabeth, assuring her of their amity and asking for an Act of Parliament acknowledging their right of succession, after Elizabeth and her heirs, to the throne of England, as well as placing any further children of the Countess of Lennox third in line. It was an arrogant rebuff for Elizabeth’s tampering in the affairs of Scotland. The unfortunate Tamworth, having been told to ignore Darnley, refused a passport signed by him and was captured at Dunbar by Lord Hume and locked up in his Border castle for two or three days. Mary and Darnley found this childishly amusing and endorsed Hume’s action.
On 15 August, Moray, Châtelherault and Argyll summoned Glencairn, Rothes, Boyd and Ochiltree to join them at Ayr in the south-west to be armed and in the field within five days. The battle lines for civil war were being drawn up.
Possibly to reassure the burgesses of Edinburgh that their religion was in safe hands, Darnley let it be known that he would attend St Giles on 19 August, and a throne was specially built for him to sit head and shoulders above the congregation. The construction meant that he would be seated almost face to face with Knox, and when he preached a sermon based on Isaiah, Chapter 26 – ‘O lord our God, other lords besides thee have visited thee . . . the Lord cometh out of this place to visit the iniquity of the inhabitants of the earth upon them’ – it was clear that Knox was making a direct personal attack on Mary and Darnley. The whole congregation watched Darnley, on his throne, gritting his teeth harder and harder until, at the end of a long, though precisely argued, torrent of invective, he stormed out of the church in a white-faced fury. The Diurnal of Occurrents says he was ‘crabbit’, a virtually untranslatable Scots word that combines the sourness of the crab apple with the anger of a trodden-on crab. On his return to Holyrood he refused the meal that was awaiting him, leapt onto his horse and spent the afternoon hawking with his close companions.
One week later, Mary, with Darnley at her side, followed by 600 arquebusiers, 200 spearmen and towing six pieces of field artillery, rode out of Edinburgh towards the Hamilton strongholds in the west to ‘dunt’ Moray. Mary wore a steel cap, carried a ‘pistolet’ and was reputed to be wearing a ‘secret defence on her body’, probably a mail shirt under her bodice, while Darnley glittered in a decorative gilt breastplate. This was the start of what has been named the ‘Chase-about Raid’. Since the two opposing forces never met, but marched and countermarched all over the southern Lowlands of Scotland, the campaign, if it can be called such, was more of a progress by both sides than a serious conflict.
The Privy Council of 6 September guaranteed – unnecessarily, as it turned out – that all the families of the slain would be recompensed. Interestingly, at that council meeting, Darnley, who did not attend, is referred to not as king but as Lord Darnley.
He and Mary were enjoying themselves vastly. It was the same kind of autumnal weather she had experienced on her punitive expedition against Huntly, and all her chivalric fantasies were being fully fed.
Mary, having gone to Glasgow with her now-considerable force, allowed Moray and the disaffected lords to ride into Edinburgh on 30 August with 1,200 horse. They occupied the capital but not the castle, the governor of which fired off a salvo of artillery to announce his impregnability and loyalty to the queen. News came that Mary was now returning to Edinburgh and the artillery fired into the town, to the annoyance of Knox, who was preparing his sermon – ‘the terrible roaring of the guns’ – causing the rebels, who were now saying that all they wanted was an assurance as to the safety of the Reformed faith, to realise that the citizens would now shortly turn against them. Moray and his forces left hastily for Lanark at the extraordinary hour of three in the morning, before riding south-west again to Dumfries.
From Glasgow, Mary issued a call for total mobilisation and demanded that the rebels surrender to her at St Andrews on 11 September. Atholl was now appointed Lieutenant-General of the North, replacing Argyll; Lennox was given the western shires from Stirling to the Solway; and Bothwell, after a catalogue of adventures – trials, acquittals, exiles, and an escape from pirates – was appointed Lieutenant-General of the Middle Marches. Meanwhile, Mary wrote to Philip II of Spain assuring him as the champion of the Catholic faith that she was unbending in her devotion, and asked him to assure her of his support.
Shortly after her wedding Mary had freed Lord George Gordon from his house arrest at Dunbar and restored him to the title of Earl of Huntly. Since he saw Moray as having been responsible for the death of his father and brother, he was all too keen to join an avenging force. Mary now had three highly competent commanders in Atholl, Bothwell and Huntly. There was a dispute as to the position of commander-in-chief, with Lennox eventually becoming commander of the vanguard and Bothwell and Darnley uneasily sharing command of the main force. This had caused ‘jars’ between Mary and Darnley, and given such divisions, it is fortunate this force was never required to fight a battle. Mary and Darnley both felt that they could easily be the targets for a popular revolt and the French ambassador Mauvissière, was told that they feared that they might be killed. He was asked to transmit a plea for help to Elizabeth.
Ignoring Edinburgh, Mary progressed north-east into Fife, then across the Tay to Dundee, which refused to pledge its loyalty, and Mary, who was now seriously running out of money, had to pay the burgh £2,000 Scots for its support. She returned to Edinburgh, borrowed 10,000 merks – £6,667 Scots – and wrote to Elizabeth reaffirming her love and friendship. She also asked Elizabeth for 3,000 soldiers, a request which was politely ignored. The rebels were also writing to Elizabeth requesting men and money: to defend their religion, their lives and their heritages. Elizabeth, sensibly, suggested a cessation of hostility and a general pardon. With Bothwell and
Huntly now united in their purpose – Bothwell would marry Lady Jean Gordon, Huntly’s sister, in the Canongate Kirk, Edinburgh, on 22 February in the following year – the royal army marched south to face the rebels in Dumfries, arriving to find an empty town: the rebels had fled to Newcastle. On 18 October, Mary returned to Edinburgh from ‘the said raid in which nothing was done’.
For Mary this had been an opportunity to make a royal progress and to show herself to her people, complete with breastplate and helmet. But instead of the obligatory cheering crowds, ‘upon their approach the country people slipped from them’. Royal popularity in Scotland was conditional; loyalty was something to be earned, and, once gained, its continuation had to be justified. Diane de Poitiers knew that a show of humility from time to time reaped rich rewards, but humility and Mary Stewart were strangers to each other.
Speculation now flourished as Europe wondered if Mary might use her seeming victory to reinstate the Catholic religion. Mary and Darnley had sent an embassy to Philip II asking for help to restore Catholicism and to supplant Elizabeth in England. Philip immediately informed the new Pope of what might be afoot. Both men realised that the request was simply to establish a position in the event of an all-out war with England breaking out. Pope Pius V, however, erroneously believed that the raid had been a Catholic–Protestant war, and he praised Mary on 10 January: ‘We congratulate your Highness on having by this notable fact commenced to dispel the darkness which has brooded for so many years over that kingdom and to restore it to the light of true religion – complete what you have commenced.’ Mary, wisely, for once, ignored the advice.
The satisfaction Mary felt at the end of this gallant fiasco reflected itself in a burst of affection for Darnley, who had acted the part of her chivalric companion with enthusiasm. By 31 October Randolph reported a rumour of royal pregnancy – ‘upon tokens I know not what’.
The rebel lords were now gathered in Newcastle, hoping against hope for help to arrive from Elizabeth, and to this end Moray left for London, having written to Cecil that he would not have started the rising had it not been for Elizabeth’s promise of support. The English Privy Council immediately wrote to Moray begging him not to come, but he was determined, and on 23 October he, with the Abbot of Kilwinning for moral support, met Elizabeth in person. He had committed an unforgivable sin in forcing Elizabeth to make a decision, and her response was predictably thorough.
On this occasion Moray had to address Elizabeth on his knees and be humbled before all of Elizabeth’s court, as well as the representatives of France and Spain. Moray was told that the interview would take place in French as a gesture to the ambassadors. He said his French was not sufficiently good, but Elizabeth insisted. He was forced to admit that Elizabeth had never moved the lords to oppose Mary in her marriage or, even more damningly, to resist her by force of arms. After his confession he was allowed to stand while she told him bluntly, ‘Now you have told the truth; for neither did I, nor any in my name, stir you up against your queen; for your abominable treason might serve for example for my own subjects to move against me. Therefore pack you out of my presence; you are but unworthy traitors.’ She then told the penitent pair that she would intercede with Mary for mercy on their return and they left with their tails between their legs. They had narrowly escaped the Tower. The eighteenth-century historian Richard Keith described Elizabeth’s behaviour as ‘a piece of refined deceit as is likely to be met with in any age or court’.
Châtelherault agreed to go into exile for five years and left for his duchy in France. The other rebels were summoned to the market cross in Edinburgh on 18 and 19 December, where they were pardoned and told to appear before parliament on 12 March 1566 for final sentencing.
Mary was convinced that she had kept the affection of the common people – she always was convinced of it after a royal progress – and that she had won a victory over the nobility. But this sense of security was illusory since the nobility’s resentment of her high-handedness in the case of her marriage grew and she now had to rely more and more on her own personal servants for advice. Lethington, who had maintained a very low profile during the Chase-about Raid, was sidelined in favour of David Rizzio. She was also forced to see that Darnley was beginning to behave with more and more arrogance, as well as abandoning the court in favour of the male brothels of Edinburgh, or ‘hawking’, ‘having in his company gentlemen willing to satisfy his will and affections’. He had not yet been invested with the crown matrimonial, and although the Privy Council allowed his signature on documents, his name always came to the right of Mary’s, thus giving her precedence. In spite of his demands to be treated as King of Scotland, eventually the council, despairing of his prolonged absences, had a facsimile signature made on an iron stamp, called a ‘sign-manual’ and the royal seals were given to Rizzio. Mary did travel to meet Darnley on 3 December 1565, and it was noticed that she had now abandoned riding for a horse litter, thus reinforcing the rumours of her pregnancy, although ‘it was perceived that her love waxed cold towards him’. On Christmas Day 1565, Darnley attended Matins and Mass for the first time, ‘devoutly upon his knees; though she herself the most part of the night sat up at cards and went to bed when it was almost day’.
Also on that day Randolph noted a change in the available currency. To celebrate the royal wedding a new silver coin had been introduced, a ‘ryal’ worth about thirty shillings Scots. It showed Darnley and Mary facing each other, with their names engraved around the rim – Henricus et Maria D(ei) Gra(tia) R(ex) et R(egina) Scotorum – giving precedence to Darnley. This coin was now withdrawn from circulation and the new ryal had the names reversed.
In early February 1566, the Seigneur de Rambouillet, an ambassador from France, arrived in Edinburgh and Darnley was invested with the Order of St Michel, France’s highest order of chivalry. The embassy included one Thornton, who had been sent by Beaton, the Scots ambassador in France, with a private communication for Mary from her uncle, the Cardinal of Lorraine. Mary was told of a Catholic league formed by France, Spain and the Empire and advice from the Cardinal was for Mary to add her signature to it. She signed the bond ‘in an evil hour’, but she must have known that if knowledge of her endorsement of such a league became public then Elizabeth would have had to act and Mary’s throne would have been in grave danger. Rizzio, wrongly assumed to be an agent for the Pope, was also enthusiastic about the Catholic League and, stupidly, let his support be known.
Lethington was now rightly fearful of the factions developing within the court, blaming Mary for her advancement of Rizzio in place of other of her council members. Lethington was also in love with Mary Fleming and Randolph chided him that, having been pushed aside by Rizzio, he now had the leisure to go mad with love.
Dissent among the nobility – ‘to whom office but not fidelity was transmitted by birth’ – was growing. George Douglas told the Earl of Ruthven that Darnley felt he had been abused by Rizzio and that it had been as a result of Rizzio’s intervention that Mary had ‘stayed her hand’ in awarding him the crown matrimonial. Not having been crowned meant that there was no machinery for a royal succession ‘in his body’ if Mary were to die first. Darnley also felt, correctly as it happened, that Rizzio despised him as his intellectual inferior and as a king in name only, who had excluded himself from most of the affairs of state and had never attended the Privy Council. To someone with Darnley’s conceit and arrogance, this was fuel for passionate hatred, a hatred which fuelled a plot to assassinate Rizzio.
The principal plotter was Patrick Ruthven, who was forty-six years old, but rendered a virtual cripple by inflammation of the liver and kidneys. He was also a known necromancer and warlock. He agreed to join the plot to remove Rizzio, provided Darnley agreed to pardon the exiled rebels, who would then swear allegiance to him as King of Scotland. As king he would then use his influence with Elizabeth to free the Countess of Lennox from the Tower. Morton, with ‘a head well turned for matters of cunning’, planned to seize Riz
zio in his quarters at the palace, but Darnley persuaded the plotters to take him as he attended a private supper with the queen – private suppers and games of cards from which Darnley, petulantly, felt excluded. Darnley, in a sadistic display of power, also wanted Mary to see that he was a principal in the murder and since the supper room was small she could not fail to notice his presence. A date of 8 or 9 March was agreed. Morton was convinced that only one way remained to extirpate the Catholic faith and put the Reformation on a secure footing. That one way was to murder Rizzio, forestall the meeting of parliament, imprison Mary until the birth of her child, entrust Darnley with the nominal sovereignty and restore Moray as head of the government. Lennox was sent to London to advise Moray to prepare for his return and, unbelievably, a ‘bond’ encompassing these plans was drawn up and signed by Darnley, Ruthven, Morton, George Douglas and Patrick Lindsay. The Chase-about exiles signed the bond in Newcastle on 2 March 1566. It quite precisely detailed the grim intention that the murder should be carried out in the palace ‘in the presence of the queen’s majesty’.
How word of this plot came to Mary’s ears so late is a mystery since on 13 February Randolph wrote to the Earl of Leicester, ‘I now know for certain that this queen repenteth her marriage; that she hateth him and all his kin. I know that he knoweth himself that he hath been a partaker in play and game with him; I know there are practices in hand contrived between father and son to come by the crown against her will. I know that if that take effect which is intended, David [Rizzio], with the consent of the king, shall have his throat cut within these ten days.’ Leicester must have been glad Mary had chosen not to marry him.