Robertson states, lastly, that even after Mary had been separated from Bothwell, and confined in Loch-Leven, her affection for him did not abate; and that the fair conclusion from all these circumstances is, that had Mary really been accessory to the murder of her husband, “she could scarcely have taken any other steps than those she took, nor could her conduct have been more repugnant to all the maxims of prudence or of decency.” But that Mary’s affection for a manshe had never loved, continued after she had left him to his fate, at Carberry Hill, and gone publicly over in the face of the whole world to his bitterest enemies, (on whose authority alone Robertson’s assertion is made, though expressly contradicted by their own previous declarations, as well as by Mary’s statements whenever she regained her liberty), is not to be believed; and had she been really innocent, “she could scarcely have taken any other steps than those she took,” nor could her conduct have been more accordant with all the maxims of prudence and propriety.
Third, Supposing Mary to have actually written the letters to Bothwell, it may very fairly be asked,—Why he was so imprudent as preserve them?—why he chose to keep only eight?—why he put them all into the same box?—and why he should ever have intrusted that box to the custody of Sir James Balfour? It is extremely difficult to answer satisfactorily any of these questions. The only explanation which the first admits of, is, that Bothwell was afraid lest Mary should afterwards quarrel with him, and resolved therefore not to destroy the evidence of her participation in the murder. But if he acted upon this principle, why did he limit himself to a collection of eight letters? If Mary ever corresponded with him at all, he must have had in his possession many more of her epistles; for the first of the series which has been preserved, is evidently not the letter of one commencing a correspondence, but of one who writes as a matter of course, to a person whom she has often written to before. It may be said, perhaps, that none of her previous letters bore upon the subject ofDarnley’s murder; but they must at all events have contained expressions of affection, which would have served as an indirect proof of her guilt. If, by preserving these documents, and running the risk of their falling into the hands of his enemies, who would so eagerly use them to his disadvantage, Bothwell thought he was choosing the least of two dangers, he would certainly have been anxious to make his evidence of Mary’s connexion with him as full and complete as possible. Accordingly, some love-sonnets, and a contract of marriage, were said to have been put into the same box, but only eight letters; as if, during the whole course of his amour with the Queen, and all its anxious days and nights, she had limited herself to eight epistolary testimonials of her love. But having preserved them, and having limited their number to eight, and having chosen to put them, not into a strong iron box locked and pad-locked, of which he alone kept the key, but into a “small gilt coffer” which never belonged to him at all, but had been a gift to Mary from her first husband Francis,—why was he so very absurd as send them to Sir James Balfour in the Castle of Edinburgh, at the very time that a rebellion was rising in the nation, and that he was beginning to suspect Balfour’s fidelity? They were sent, we are informed, “before his flying away” from Edinburgh, in the beginning of June 1567. Was this the moment at which he would be disposed to part with writings he had so carefully treasured? If he was afraid that his enemies would advance upon Edinburgh, why did he not take the “small gilt coffer” with him to Dunbar, instead of sending itto the very place where it was sure to become their prey? If the letters were in truth forged, it was necessary for the forgers to concoct as plausible a story concerning them as possible. They knew it was not likely that Bothwell would send them to the Castle tied up as an open packet; and the idea of a box would therefore occur to them. But as they had not in their possession any box which belonged to Bothwell, they were forced to make use of what they could get; and finding at Holyrood, when they rifled the palace of most of the Queen’s valuables, the coffer in question, they would readily avail themselves of it. It would further occur to them, that Bothwell could not be supposed to have left the letters at Holyrood, which was not a place of any strength; and as they had not followed him to Dunbar, they were obliged to give out that he had made the Castle of Edinburgh their hiding-place. But if the letters had not been forgeries, and if they had been really preserved by Bothwell, they would have been more numerous,—they would not have been kept in one of Mary’s trinket-boxes,—and they would never have found their way out of his own hands into the custody of Sir James Balfour.
Fourth, The next improbability connected with this story, is, that Bothwell sent to reclaim the letters at the time alleged. On the 15th of September 1568, Murray, before going into England, to attend the conference at York, gave the Earl of Morton a receipt for the “silver box, overgilt with gold, with all missive letters, contracts or obligations for marriage, sonnets or love ballads, and all other letters contained therein, sent and passed betwixt the Queen and James, sometime EarlBothwell; which box, and whole pieces within the same, were taken and found with umwhile George Dalgleish, servant to the said Earl Bothwell, upon the 20th day of June, in the year of God 1567.”[215]This, then, was exactly five days after Bothwell had fled from Carberry Hill, and when Edinburgh was in the possession of the opposite faction, with whom Sir James Balfour had now associated himself. Dalgleish, it appears, who was well known to be a servant of Bothwell, was able not only to effect an entrance into Edinburgh, though the city was strictly guarded, but was received into the Castle, and had the box actually delivered to him by Balfour. How he happened to be afterwards discovered, and his property taken from him, is not made out. If Balfour privately intimated to Morton what he had done, then he at once acted knavishly towards Bothwell, and most inconsiderately towards those whom he wished to befriend; for Dalgleish might have either baffled pursuit, or he might have secreted the box, or destroyed its contents before he was taken. Thus we have a tissue of improbabilities, pervading the whole of this part of the narrative. Bothwell could never send to Edinburgh Castle for writings he would never have deposited there: and most especially he would never send, when he himself was a fugitive, and that fortress, along with the adjacent town, in the hands of his enemies. Nor would Balfour have surrendered a box so precious; nor, if he did, would Dalgleish have allowed it again to becomethe prey of those from whom it was most wished to conceal it.
Fifth, What was done with the letters immediately after Morton and the other Lords got possession of them? Bothwell had been already accused of the murder of Darnley; his former acquittal had been declared unjust; he had been separated from the Queen; and she herself had been sequestrated in Loch-Leven, until the whole affair should be duly investigated. Surely, then, the discovery of these letters would be regarded with signal satisfaction, and the associated Lords would lose not a moment in announcing their existence to the nation, as the best justification of their own proceedings. They had sent Mary, it is true, to Loch-Leven, somewhat precipitately, five days before they were aware of her enormous guilt; but if their own ambition had prompted that step, they would now be able to free themselves from blame, and would silence at once the boldest of the Queen’s defenders. As it appears by the records, that a meeting of Privy Council was held on the 21st of June, the very day after Dalgleish was seized, we shall surely find that all the papers were produced, and their contents impressively recorded in the Council-books. Nothing of the kind took place; and though Morton was present at the meeting, not a single word was said of the letters.[216]Again, on the 26th of June, an act was passed for sanctioning the imprisonment of the Queen in Loch-Leven, and a proclamation issued for apprehending the Earl of Bothwell; but though the latter was accused of having“treasonably ravished” the person of her Highness the Queen, and also of being the “principal author of the late cruel murder,” no hint was given of the evidence which had been recently discovered against him, and which, indeed, had it been in their possession, would have directly contradicted the assertion, that Bothwell had been guilty Of “treasonable ravishment,” or of keeping the Queen in “thraldom and bondage;” for it would have appeared, that he had obtained her previous consent for every thing he had done.[217]Between this date and the 11th of July, several other meetings of Council were held, and acts published, but not a whisper was heard concerning these important letters. When Sir Nicolas Throckmorton was sent by Elizabeth, as her ambassador into Scotland, the Lords presented him, on the 11th of July, with a formal justification of their doings; but, in all that long and laboured paper, the letters were never once alluded to. On the contrary, in direct opposition to them, such passages as the following occur more than once:—“How shamefully the Queen, our Sovereign, was led captive, and, by fear, force, and (as by many conjectures may be well suspected) other extraordinary and more unlawful means, compelled to become bed-fellow to another wife’s husband, and to him who, not three months before, had in his bed most cruelly murdered her husband, is manifest to the world, to the great dishonour of her Majesty, us all, and this whole nation.”—“It behoved us, assuredly, to have recommended the soul of our Prince, and of the most part of ourselves, to God’s hands; andas we may firmly believe the soul also of our Sovereign the Queen, who should not have lived with him half a year to an end, as may be conjectured by the short time they lived together, and the maintaining of his other wife at home in his house.”—“The respects aforesaid, with many others, and very necessity, moved us to enterprise the quarrel we have in hand, which was only intended against the Earl of Bothwell’s person, to dissolve the dishonourable and unlawful conjunction under the name of marriage.”[218]These are positive declarations, which not only bear no reference to the box of love-letters, but which deliberately and conclusively give the lie to their contents. When was it, then, that these momentous letters were introduced to the world? The Lords, not satisfied with “sequestrating the person” of the Queen, forced from her an abdication of her throne on the 25th of July. Surely, before venturing on so audacious a proceeding, these criminal writings would be made known to the country. But no; we in vain expect to hear any thing of them;—“shadows, clouds, and darkness” still rest upon them.
At length, a fresh actor returned to that scene, in which he had formerly played with so much success; andhisinventive genius brought the mystery to light. Early in August, the Earl of Murray rejoined his old associates; and on the 22d of that month, he was proclaimed Regent. It was necessary for him, shortly afterwards, to hold a Parliament; and the Queen’s party being then almost as strong as his own, it was still more necessary for him to fall upon some means tojustify his usurpation, as well as those severe proceedings against Mary to which he had given his sanction. Accordingly, after he had been in Scotland four months, and had cautiously prepared his body of written evidence, we find it mentioned,for the first time, in an act of Council, passed on the 4th of December, only ten days before the meeting of Parliament, and evidently in anticipation of that event. In this act it is expressly declared, “that the cause and occasion of the private conventions of the Lords, Barons and others, and consequently their taking of arms, and coming to the field, and the cause and occasion of the taking of the Queen’s person, upon the 15th day of June last, and holding and detaining of the same within the house and place of Loch Leven, continually since, presently, and in all time coming, and generally all other things invented, spoken, or written by them since the 10th day of February last, (upon which day umwhile King Henry was shamefully and horribly murdered), unto the day and date hereof, touching the Queen’s person, cause, and all things depending thereon, was in the said Queen’s own default, in as far as, by diverse her privy letters, written and subscribed with her own hand, and sent by her to James Earl of Bothwell, chief executor of the said horrible murder, as well before the committing thereof as after, and by her ungodly and dishonourable proceeding in a private marriage with him, suddenly and unprovisedly thereafter, it is most certain that she was privy, art and part, and of the actual device and deed of the forementioned murder.”[219]The ensuing Parliament passed an act, which, after a preamble expressed in nearly the same words, sanctioned the Queen’s imprisonment and Murray’s Regency;[220]and nothing more whatever is known or heard of these “privy letters,” till nearly the end of the following year, 1568.
With regard to these acts of Council and Parliament, it is to be remarked, in the first place, that they refer to the Letters as the grounds upon which the nobles took up arms, separated the Queen from Bothwell at Carberry Hill, and imprisoned her at Loch-Leven; although, according to a subsequent confession, the Letters were not discovered till after she had been in captivity for five days, and although, in all the proclamations and acts of the time, Mary’s innocence was openly allowed, and the bondage in which she had been kept by Bothwell as openly proclaimed. It is to be remarked, in the second place, that no account is given, either of the contents of these Letters, of the time of their discovery, or of the evidence by which their authenticity was ascertained. Dalgleish was at the very moment in custody, and a few days afterwards was tried and executed for his share in Darnley’s death, of which he made a full confession. But why was he not brought forward and examined concerning the Letters; and why is there not a word about them in his confession?[221]Why was Dalgleish never mentioned as having any connection with the Letters at all till after he was dead? And if it was originally intended to refer to the Letters as the authorities on which the Lords sent Mary toLoch-Leven, may it not be fairly concluded, that the idea of their having been taken from Dalgleish on the 20th of June, was an after-thought, when it became necessary to account for the manner in which they had fallen into their hands? Was it, besides, enough to satisfy the nation to allude, in vague and general terms, to the existence of documents of so much weight? If they were thus obscurely locked up in Murray’s custody,—if nothing further was said about them but that they existed,—if all the nobility of Scotland were not requested to come and examine them,—if they were not printed and published that the people might see them, and feel convinced that the Lords had acted justly, can it be cause of wonder, that, not only all Mary’s friends, but even Elizabeth herself, intimated doubts of their authenticity?
Sixth, If it is strange that these important writings were so long kept from the public eye, it is no less strange, that, when they were at length produced, a degree of caution and hesitation was observed regarding them not a little suspicious. If the Regent had been satisfied of their authenticity, he would fearlessly have exhibited them to all who were interested in their contents. Even allowing that he had a fair excuse for concealing them so long, he would have been eager to challenge for them, when he at last determined to bring them forward, the minutest examination, so that the most sceptical might be convinced they were genuine. If he acted honestly, and, on the authority of these writings, believed his sister unworthy of continuing on the Scottish throne, he must have been anxious that the whole country should acknowledge the propriety of his conduct; or if hehad himself been misled, he ought not to have been unwilling to have had the forgery pointed out to him, and Mary restored to the government. But we look in vain for any thing frank, open, and candid, in Murray’s proceedings.
When the conference began at York, there was not a word said of the letters, till it was found that, without their aid, no plausible answer could be given to the complaints made by Mary. Even then they were not boldly produced, and openly laid before the Commissioners; but Maitland, Macgill, Wood, and Buchanan, were sent to hold a “private and secret conference” with Norfolk and his colleagues, in which they produced the letters and other papers, and asked their opinion concerning them.[222]As soon as Elizabeth was informed of their contents, she removed the conference to Westminster; and Mary sent her Commissioners thither, still ignorant of the alleged existence of any such writings. It was not till the 8th of December 1568 that the letters made their appearance in an official manner. As Elizabeth herself, departing from the impartiality of an umpire, had already secretly encouraged their production, and as she had evidently entered into Murray’s views regarding them, there was now surely no further trepidation or concealment. But what is the fact? On onlytwooccasions were the originals of these writings ever shown; and on neither occasion does their authenticity appear to have been at all determined. On the 8th of December, “they produced seven several writings, written in French, and avowed by themto be written by the said Queen; which seven writings being copied, were read in French, and a due collation made thereof, as near as could be, by reading and inspection, and made to accord with the originals, which the said Earl of Murray required to be re-delivered, and did thereupon deliver the copies, being collationed.”[223]Here, therefore, nothing was done except comparing copies with what were called originals, to see that they agreed. These copies were left in the hands of the Commissioners, and the originals, by whoever they were written, were immediately returned to Murray. On the 14th of December, they again made their appearance, for the second and last time; “and being read, were duly conferred and compared, for the manner of writing and fashion of orthography, with sundry other letters, long since heretofore written, and sent by the said Queen of Scots to the Queen’s Majesty.”[224]Was this all the proof that was offered? Yes; the whole. Elizabeth, who was no less anxious than Murray himself to blacken the character of the Queen of Scots, was allowed to supply the letters with which the other writings were to be compared; and, for any thing that is known to the contrary, these “other letters, long since heretofore written,” were only a few more forgeries from the same hand, prepared for the very use to which they were applied. And be this as it may, is it likely that, by a hasty collation of this kind, any accurate decision could be formed; or that, in a single forenoon, a number of differentindividuals could come to a conclusion on so very nice a point as a comparison of hands, especially having before them so great a number of documents to decide upon? It is a maxim in law, that “fallacissimum genus probandi sit per comparationem litterarum;” and surely the fallaciousness of such a proof was not diminished by the hasty examination given to them by some English nobles, probably unacquainted previously with the writing of the Queen of Scots.
But could Mary herself, it will be asked, refuse to acknowledge her own hand? Her Commissioners would of course be allowed to see the original letters; if not the whole, at least some of them, would be given to them, that they might transmit them to their mistress; and she being either unable to deny them, would confess her guilt, or, perceiving them to be fabrications, would point out the proofs. But nothing of all this was done. Mary’s Commissioners were not present at the only meetings at which the originals were produced; and when they afterwards applied for a sight of them, or for copies, they were put off from time to time till the conference was dissolved, and Murray sent back to Scotland. “Suppose a man,” says Tytler, “was to swear a debt against me, and offered to prove it by bond or bill of my handwriting; if I knew this bond to be a false writing, what would be my defence? Show me the bond itself, and I will prove it a forgery. If he withdrew the bond, and refused to let me see it, what would be the presumption? Surely that the bond was forged, and that the user was himself the forger. The case is precisely similar to the point in hand. The Queen, we have seen, repeatedly demands to seethe principal writings themselves, which she asserts are forged. Elizabeth herself says the demand is most reasonable. What follows? Is this reasonable demand of Mary complied with? Far from it; so far from seeing or having inspection of the originals, even copies of them are refused to her and her Commissioners.”[225]Under these circumstances, and as the writings were seen only twice by a few of the English nobility, and then locked up again in Murray’s box, that they once existed may perhaps be granted, but that they were what they pretended to be, cannot be believed to have been ever proved.
Seventh, Having effected the purpose they were meant to achieve, it might have been expected that these letters would be carefully preserved in the public archives of the Scottish nation;—that, as they had been the means of bringing about a revolution in the country, they would be regarded not as private, but as public property;—and that Murray would be anxious to lodge them where they might be referred to, both by his cotemporaries and posterity, as documents with which his own reputation, no less than that of his sister, was indissolubly connected. Here again, however, the impartial inquirer is disappointed. The Regent appears to have kept these writings close in his own possession till his death, and they then fell into the hands of his successor, the Earl of Lennox. Towards the end of January 1571, Lennox delivered them to Morton; and after Morton’s execution, the box and its contents became the property of the Earl of Gowrie. Knowingthat he would be less anxious to maintain their authenticity, not being influenced by any of the motives which had actuated Murray, Lennox, and Morton, and fearing lest the whole trick should be discovered, Elizabeth became now very anxious to obtain them. She ordered her ambassador in Scotland, in 1582, to promise Gowrie, that if he would surrender them, he should “be requited to his comfort and contentment, with princely thanks and gratuity.” But Gowrie was neither to be bribed nor persuaded; he knew the value of the papers too well, and the power which their possession gave him, both over James and Elizabeth. As long as they befriended him, he would be silent; but should he ever be cast off by them, he would proclaim their fabrication, and remove the stains they had cast upon Mary’s honour. Elizabeth’s earnest endeavours to get them into her own possession can be accounted for, only on the supposition that she knew them to be forgeries; for it was in that case alone, that any dangerous use could have been made of them. Subsequent to the correspondence with Gowrie, in 1582, nothing further is known of these writings. In 1584, Gowrie was executed as a traitor, on account of the conspiracy in which he had engaged, and many of his effects fell into the hands of James VI.; but whether these documents were among them, is uncertain. In so far as the originals are concerned, this celebrated body of evidence is little else than a mere shadow. It was never spoken of at all, till long after it had been discovered,—it was not produced till long after it had been first spoken of,—it appeared only for a few hours before persons predisposedto give it all credit,—it then returned to its former obscurity, and not evencopiesbut merelytranslations, are all that were ever presented to the world, on which to form an opinion. It is strange that any importance should have ever been attached to papers, which were never fairly exposed to the light, and which the jaws of darkness so soon devoured.[226]
Eighth, Though it would be perhaps as difficult to prove a negative, as to demonstrate the spuriousness of writings which do not exist, and which were hardly ever seen, the presumption against them is increased a hundred-fold, if it can be clearly established, that the same men who produced them were more than once guilty of deliberate forgery. This could be done in many instances; but it will be enough to mention two, which are sufficiently glaring. The first is the letter which Morton exhibited before Mary was taken to Loch-Leven, and which was never afterwards referred to or produced, even at the time when evidence of all kinds was raked up against her. It was a letter which would not only have gone a great way to corroborate the others, but, as it did not implicate the Queen in Darnley’s murder, was exactly the sort of apology that was wished for keeping her “sequestrated” at Loch-Leven, and forcing from her an abdication. Eventhough all the other epistles had been kept back, this might have been safely engrossed in the minutes of Morton’s Privy Council, and referred to again and again by the King’s Lords, as the great justification of their conduct. If by any chance a reason could be found, why it was first produced, and again concealed, it would still be impossible to discover why it alone was withdrawn, when all the rest were laid before Elizabeth. There is but one solution of the enigma, which is, that it was too hasty a fabrication to bear minute examination, and that, though it misled Kircaldy of Grange, Morton and Murray were themselves ashamed of it.
A second and even more remarkable example of forgery is to be found in one of the papers which Murray showed to the English Commissioners at York, but which he afterwards thought it prudent to withdraw when the writings were more publicly produced at Westminster. This paper was described as,—“The Queen’s consent given to the Lords who subscribed the bond for the promotion of the said James Earl Bothwell to her marriage.”[227]In the “private and secret Conference,” which Lethington, MacGill, Wood, and Buchanan, had with the Commissioners at York; “they showed unto us,” say the latter, “a copy of a band, bearing date the 19th of April 1567, to the which the most part of the Lords and Counsellors of Scotland have put to their hands; and, as they say, more for fear than any liking they had of the same. Which band contained two special points,—the one a declaration of Bothwell’spurgation of the murder of the Lord Darnley, and the other a general consent to his marriage with the Queen, so far forth as the law and her own liking should allow. And yet, in proof that they did it not willingly, they procured a warrant which was now showed unto us, bearing date the 19th of April, signed with the Queen’s hand, whereby she gave them license to agree to the same; affirming, that before they had such a warrant, there was none of them that did or would set to their hands, saving only the Earl of Huntly.”[228]This must have been a very curious and interesting warrant; and it is somewhat surprising, that it had never been heard of before. It was a very strong link in the chain; and spoke volumes of Mary’s love for Bothwell, which carried her so far that she not only secretly wished, but openly requested her nobles to recommend him to her as a husband. Besides, if the warrant was genuine, it must have been seen by all the Lords who were present at “Ainsly’s supper;” and they must have been consequently well aware that there was no such thing as a forcible abduction of the Queen’s person. So far from supposing that Bothwell ever kept her in “unlawful bondage,” or forced her into a “pretended marriage,” they would know that she had shown greater anxiety to possess him than he had to secure her. Their only wonder would be, that after so far overcoming the natural modesty of her sex, as to point out to them one of her own subjects, whom she asked them to advise her to marry, she should so palpably have contradicted herself, as to give outafterwards that it was not till she had been carried off, and till every argument had been used which power could supply, or passion suggest, that she reluctantly agreed to become his wife. If she openly and formally licensed her nobles to recommend him, what was the use of all her subsequent affected reluctance? But it was not Murray’s business to explain this problem. The warrant spoke for itself, and it was with it only that he had to do. What, then, were the comments which he made on it at Westminster, and the conclusive presumptions against Mary which he drew from it?The “Warrant” was not produced at Westminster at all, and not a single allusion was made to it.[229]This fact alone is sufficient to mark the credit it deserves. It could do no harm to show it privately to Norfolk, Sussex, and Sadler; but it would not have answered so well to have advanced it publicly, as all the nobility of Scotland would at once have known it to be a fabrication. The probability is, that this “Warrant,” or “Consent,” was neither more nor less than a garbled copy of the pardon which Bothwell obtained from Mary, for the Lords who had signed the bond, when he brought her out of the Castle of Edinburgh on the 14th of May, the day previous to her marriage; and she would never have been asked for this pardon if she had before recommended the bond.[230]If Murray and his party are thus detected in fabrications so gross, that they themselves, however anxious to bolster up their cause,were afraid to make use of them, what dependence is to be placed upon the authenticity of any writings they chose to produce?
Ninth, It was Bothwell who murdered Darnley; it was Bothwell who seized the person of the Queen; it was Bothwell who was married to her; it was Bothwell whose daring ambition waded through blood and crime, till at length he set his foot upon a throne. But his triumph was of short duration. The Queen left him, and went over to his enemies; and he himself was forced into a miserable exile. It was this reverse of fortune which he had all along dreaded; and it was to be prepared for the evil day, that he had preserved the eight letters and love-sonnets so carefully in the small gilt box. He had determined, that whatever might happen, he should never lose his hold over Mary, but that, as she had participated in his guilt, she should be made to share his subsequent fortunes. He cannot have been well pleased with her conduct at Carberry Hill; and it was perhaps to revenge himself upon her, that he sent Dalgleish for the casket, part of the contents of which he may have intended to disclose to the world. Dalgleish and the casket were seized, but the secret of Mary’s criminality was still in Bothwell’s possession; and there was surely no occasion that he should become odious in the eyes of all men, whilst his paramour and accomplice preserved her reputation. Did he never, then, throughout the whole course of his life, utter a word, or issue a declaration, or make a confession which in the slightest degree implicated Mary? It is surely a strong presumption in her favour if he never did.
Before Darnley was murdered, Bothwell wentto meet Morton at Whittingham, to consult him on the subject. Morton told him, that unless he could produce proof, under the Queen’s hand, of her consent to have her husband removed, he would not interfere in the matter. Before going to Whittingham, Bothwell must have received the two letters which Mary is alleged to have written to him from Glasgow;yet he was unable to show Morton any writing to corroborate his assertion, that the Queen would not be offended at the proposed murder. He promised, however, that he would do all he could to procure the warrant which Morton desired. Some time afterwards, “I being at St Andrews,” says Morton in his confession, “to visit the Earl of Angus a little before the murder, Mr Archibald Douglas came to me there, both with write and credit of the Earl Bothwell, to show unto me that the purpose of the King’s murder was to be done, and near a point; and to request my concurrence and assistance thereunto. My answer to him was, that I would give no answer to that purpose, seeing I had not got the Queen’s warrant in write, which was promised; and therefore, seeing the Earl Bothwell never reported any warrant of the Queen to me, I never meddled further with it.”[231]As all that Morton wished, before giving Bothwell his active support, was “the Queen’s hand-write of the matter for a warrant,” what would have been more natural or easy for Bothwell than to have produced any of the letters he had got from Mary, which would exactly have answered the purpose, and satisfied all Morton’sscruples? As Bothwell told him that the Queen approved of the design, he could not have any objection to make good that assertion, by any written evidence in his possession. He need not even have shown the whole of any one letter, but only such detached parts of it as bore directly on the subject in question. It is strange, that Bothwell should have gone so far, and should have been so anxious to secure the co-operation of Morton; yet, that he did not obviate the only objection which Morton started, by putting into his hands a letter, or letters, which, if they ever existed, he must have then had.[232]
Various occasions occurred afterwards, which held out every inducement to Bothwell to produce the letters and accuse the Queen. Passing over his silence at Carberry Hill, notwithstanding her desertion of him there, and during all the rest of the time that he remained in Scotland, it may be mentioned, that Murray, shortly after he had been appointed Regent, wrote to the King of Denmark, to request that Bothwell should be delivered up to him. The King refused, on several grounds, and among others, that Bothwell maintained he had been unjustly driven from the kingdom,—that he had been legally tried and acquitted,—that he had been lawfully married to the Queen,—and thatno blame whatever attached to her.[233]Not at all satisfied with this answer, MrThomas Buchanan was afterwards sent out to Denmark, to procure, if possible, Bothwell’s surrender. Buchanan, of course, made himself acquainted with all that Bothwell had been saying and doing, since he fled from Scotland; and in January 1571, he sent home a full account of his discoveries to his constituents. The letter was addressed to the Earl of Lennox, who was then Regent; but it fell first into the Earl of Morton’s hands, who was at the time in London. Perceiving that it contained matter by no means favourable to their cause, and afraid lest it might produce some effect on the mind of Elizabeth, he played the same game with her he had formerly been so successful in with Mary, and passed off upon her a garbled copy as a genuine transcript of the original. “We had no will,” the Earl of Morton wrote to Lennox, “that the contents of the letter should be known, fearing that some words and matters mentioned in the same being dispersed here as news, would rather have hindered than furthered our cause. And, therefore, being desired at Court to show the letter, we gave to understand that we had sent the principal away, and delivered a copy, omitting such things as we thought not meet to be shown, as your Grace may perceive by the like copy, which also we have sent you herewith; which you may communicate to such as your Grace thinks it not expedient to communicate the whole contents of the principal letter unto.”[234]Both the original despatch and the spurious copy have unfortunately been lost, orwere more probably destroyed by Lennox himself; so that their contents can only be conjectured; but it is evident, that so far from tending to hurt Mary’s reputation, they must rather have served to exculpate her.
In the year 1576, Mary wrote to the Archbishop of Glasgow, that she had received intelligence of Bothwell’s death, and that, before his decease, he had declared himself the murderer of Darnley, and expressly freed her from any share in it, attesting her innocence in the most solemn manner. “If this be true,” Mary added, “this testimony will be of great importance to me against the false calumnies of my enemies. I therefore beseech you to take every means in your power to discover the real state of the case.”[235]The Archbishop proposed, in consequence, to send a messenger to Denmark, to procure a properly authenticated copy of the testament, but for want of money and other causes, it appears that he was never able to carry his intentions into effect. The confession was transmitted to Elizabeth by the King of Denmark, but its publication was anxiously suppressed by her;[236]and is now lost. Its place, however, has been not unsatisfactorily supplied by a discovery which has recently been made in the Royal library at Drottningholm, entitled, a “Declaration of the Earl of Bothwell,” made by him when a prisoner at Copenhagen in the year 1568. It contains a full account of all the principal events of his past life; and though it was written, not as a confession, butas a justification, and is consequently an artful piece of special pleading in his own defence, and not always particularly accurate in its detail of facts, it cannot fail nevertheless to be regarded as an interesting and important document. One thing is especially to be remarked, that throughout the whole, he never attempts in the most distant manner to implicate Mary in the blame attachable to his own conduct. On the contrary, he speaks of her throughout with the utmost respect. It may be said, that if Bothwell had accused Mary, he could not have defended himself, and that he abstained only from a selfish motive. There were, however, a thousand different degrees of responsibility with which he might have charged Mary. There was no necessity to have accused her of the murder of Darnley, or of a criminal attachment to him; but if it had been the truth, it would certainly have been for his own interest, to have proved that the Queen loved him sincerely and warmly. Even this he does not venture to state; and the impression left by the whole tone of the declaration unquestionably is, that he felt it would be for his advantage to say as little about Mary as possible, knowing that, of all others he had offended most against her, and that to attempt to cast any imputation upon her innocence, would be only to throw a darker shade over his own villany.[237]
Tenth.—Some historians have ventured to assert, that however little credit they might be disposed to give to the statements of such men as Murray and Morton, they have been somewhat startled to find that Mary herself never denied themvery positively, or evinced much indignation against them. These historians cannot have looked very deeply into the records on this subject, else they would have found that the fact was exactly the reverse of what they suppose it to have been. “And yet is there one injury more,” says Bishop Lesley, “that doth grieve and molest this good guiltless lady more than all their foretold villanous pranks played by them against her, and surely not without just cause of grief; for, indeed, it far passeth and exceedeth them all, and that is, their shameful and most traitorous defaming her, being altogether innocent therein, with the death of her husband, as though that she had suborned the Earl of Bothwell thereto, and rewarded him therefor with the marriage of her own body.”[238]It is altogether unnecessary to refer to any particular authorities upon this subject; for a volume might be easily filled with Letters, Despatches, and Instructions from Mary, which not only deny her guilt, but, by the arguments they contain, go very far to establish her innocence. A communication, which she addressed, in the year 1569, to the States of Scotland, must, however, be mentioned, as it distinctly shows what her feelings then were towards Bothwell; for whom, indeed, she had so little affection, that, very soon after her arrival in England, she lent a favourable ear to the proposals of marriage made by the Duke of Norfolk. Her letter to the Scottish Parliament is to be considered in connection with this contemplated marriage. Its purpose was, to obtain the sanction of the Statesto a divorce from Bothwell; and she alluded to him in the following terms: “Forasmuch as we are credibly informed, by sundry and diverse noblemen of our realm, that the pretended marriage, some time contracted, and in a manner solemnized, between us and James Earl of Bothwell, was, for diverse respects, unlawful, and may not of good conscience and law stand betwixt us, (albeit it seemed otherwise to us and our Council at that time);—considering, therefore, with ourselves, and thinking that the same does touch us as highly in honour and conscience that it daily and hourly troubles and vexes our spirit quite through, we are moved to seek remedy.”[239]The very Lords, however, who had before affected so much anxiety to free her from that “ungodly alliance,” now refused to take any steps towards forwarding the divorce; and they were thus convicted of another inconsistency.[240]Little more than eighteen months had elapsed since they had not only imprisoned her, but forced her to surrender her crown, because, as they alleged, she “would not consent, by any persuasion, to abandon the Lord Bothwell for her husband, but avowed constantly that she would live and die with him, saying, that if it were put to her choice to relinquish her crown and kingdom, or the Lord Bothwell, she would leave her kingdom and dignity to go as a simple damsel with him, and would never consent that he would fare worse, or have more harm than herself.”[241]Yet she now expresslyasked a divorce from this Lord Bothwell, her connection with whom had “daily and hourly troubled and vexed her spirit;” and the Lords, forgetting all their former protestations, were not disposed to accede to it.
Nor was it by Mary herself alone, that a direct contradiction was given to the defamatory accusations of the regent and his associates. Numerous state papers exist which show, that all the impartial and disinterested part, not only of her own nobility, but of Elizabeth’s, considered her entirely innocent. In the year 1568, letters were addressed to the Queen of England, by many of the Lords of Scotland, which spoke very strongly in her favour. Among the signatures to these, will be found the names of the Archbishop of St Andrews, the Earl of Huntly, Argyle, Crawfurd, Errol, Rothes, Cassils, Eglinton, and Caithness, and the Lords Fleming, Ross, Sanquhar, Ogilvy, Boyd, Oliphant, Drummond, Maxwell, and others.[242]In England, the great number of Lords and gentlemen of the first rank who joined with Norfolk in aid of Mary, affords perhaps a still stronger presumption in her favour. But Robertson, on the other hand, asserts that her father and mother-in-law, Lord and Lady Lennox, were convinced of her guilt. By attaching himself to the Prince’s faction, Lennox came to be elected Regent, and that he was willing to believe, or affect to believe, all that Mary’s enemies advanced, cannot be matter of much wonder; for he had in truth identified his interests with those of Murray and Morton, and if their fabrications had been detected, he must have sufferedalong with them. But in so far as regards the Countess of Lennox, Robertson’s statement is directly contrary to the fact. He quotes a letter, it is true, written by Mary to that Lady in the year 1570, in which, with ingenuous sincerity, the Queen laments that the Countess should allow herself to be persuaded to think evil of her; and it was perhaps partly in consequence of this appeal, that Lady Lennox began to consider the subject more seriously. Robertson either did not know, or chose to conceal the fact, that she saw cause soon after receiving Mary’s letter decidedly to change her opinions. In 1578, Mary wrote to the Archbishop of Glasgow to this effect:—“The Countess of Lennox, my mother-in-law, died about a month ago. This good lady, thanks to God, has been in very good intelligence and correspondence with me for the last five or six years. She has confessed to me, by diverse letters under her hand which I carefully keep, the wrong she did me in the unjust prosecutions which she allowed to proceed against me in her name, and which originated, partly in erroneous information, but principally in the express commands of the Queen of England, and persuasions of those of her Council who were always averse to our reconciliation. As soon as she became persuaded of my innocence, she desisted from these prosecutions, and resolutely refused to countenance the proceedings which were carried on against me under her name.”[243]Thus, however prejudiced her husband necessarily was, the Countess was unable to resist the force of truth, as soon as she was allowed to judge forherself. It may further be mentioned, that in France there was scarcely an individual who thought Mary guilty; and that the funeral orations which were ordered by the Government to be preached upon her death, were attended by hundreds, who wept over the injuries and the misfortunes of their beloved Queen-dowager.[244]It appears, therefore, both by Mary’s own declarations, repeated over and over again with undeviating consistency, up to the very hour of her death, when she passed into the presence of her Maker, solemnly protesting her innocence, and by the deliberate opinions of nearly all her cotemporaries who are deserving of credit, that the strongest and most positive contradiction was given to the malicious insinuations of the opposite party.
Eleventh, and Lastly.—A considerable number of Bothwell’s accomplices were tried, condemned and executed, for their share in the murder; and before their death, they all made Depositions and Confessions which still exist, and have been printed by Goodall, Anderson, Laing, and others. Among these are the Examinations, Depositions, and Confessions, of Powrie, Dalgleish, Hay, Hepburn and Paris; the evidence of Nelson, Darnley’s servant, and the Confessions of Ormiston, and the Earl of Morton. Here, then, is a tolerably voluminous collection of facts, supplied by those who were most intimate with Bothwell, and who, if he had any undue intimacy with the Queen, would in all probability have known something concerning it, and have had it in their power to throw some light upon the subject. TheseDocuments, therefore, will be anxiously read by all who aim at discovering the real perpetrators and devisers of the murder. The result of their readings will be the discovery, that in every one of these documents, which is properly authenticated and ascertained to be genuine, Bothwell, and Bothwell alone, is mentioned as the executor of the deed; and there is not a syllable in any of them which can be construed to the disadvantage of the Queen. On the contrary, various particulars are mentioned, which have a direct tendency to disprove her connexion with him. Some of these have been already alluded to; but a few of the circumstances most decisive in the Queen’s favour may be recapitulated here. 1. Hepburn deponed, that as it took longer time to get the powder into the lower part of Darnley’s house than was expected, Bothwell became impatient, and told them to make haste, for they would not find so much commodity if the Queen came out.[245]2. Hepburn and Paris deponed, that Bothwell got false keys made for opening all the doors of the house in which Darnley lodged, for which he would have had no occasion, if the Queen had been in the plot with him.[246]3. Ormiston being asked if ever the Queen spoke to him at any time concerning the murder, or if he knew what was her mind unto it, replied—“As I shall answer to God, she spoke never to me, nor I to her, of it, nor I know nothing of her part, but as my Lord Bothwell told me.” As if alluding to some bribe which had been offered him, if he would accuse the Queen, headded,—“I will not speak but the truth for all the gold of the earth, which I desire you, good minister, bear record of, and as you have written, I pray you read over to me; let me also see it.”[247]4. Paris can have had no suspicion that the Queen countenanced the proposed murder; for, in the conversation he had with Bothwell, when the Earl first disclosed his intention to him, he beseeched him to desist from his enterprise, telling him that he was “already the most powerful nobleman in the country, and that, having lately married, he ought now or never to be anxious to keep himself out of trouble.”[248]5. Paris further deponed, that Bothwell asked him to procure the key of the Queen’s chamber, at the Kirk-of-Field, telling him that he had got him transferred to the Queen’s service, solely in the hope of finding him useful on this occasion. Had Mary herself known of the plot, Bothwell need not have run the risk of disclosing it to Paris.[249]6. Though Dalgleish was minutely examined regarding all the circumstances of the murder, not one question was put to him upon the subject of the box and letters which were of so much importance; nor was it ever mentioned till after his death, that the casket had been in his custody. On the 20th of June 1567, Dalgleish is said to have been seized, and this is probably the fact; he was examined six days afterwards, before Morton and the other Lords of the Privy Council, and his examination has been preserved entire. “This remarkable particular,” says Tytler, “naturally occurs to be observed in it,that it was surely of great importance for Morton, who then had the box in his custody, to have confronted Dalgleish with the persons who apprehended him, and to have asked him some questions relating to this box; such as, Whether or not this box was in his custody when he was seized?—What orders he received from his master Bothwell concerning it?—Who delivered it to him? or where he found it?—Whether open, or locked?—If open, what it contained? and where he was to have carried it? Dalgleish, and the persons who seized him, in a matter so recent, only six days before, could have given distinct answers to those questions.”[250]There can be little doubt, that as no such questions were put, no such transaction, as the seizure of a box and papers had taken place. Laing endeavours to account for this very suspicious circumstance in the following manner: “The depositions are strictly confined to the murder, as the design was to procure judicial evidence against Bothwell and his associates, not to implicate the Queen in his guilt.” But in the first place, these letters were themselves the very best “judicial evidence” they could have found; and in the second, questions might have been put concerning them, without, in the mean time making any disclosure of their contents. The total silence of the Privy Council, and of Dalgleish, is fatal to their supposed existence. 7. The Earl of Morton confessed, that though he told Bothwell he would give him more active assistance if he could show him any writing of the Queen, which proved that she sanctioned themurder; yet that Bothwell, after undertaking to procure such writing, was never able to fulfil his promise; and this was at a time posterior to the date of some of the love-letters, which Mary was afterwards alleged to have written to him. Thus, these Confessions, Depositions, and Examinations, though they were collected with the anxious wish of eliciting some circumstances which would seem to criminate Mary, must have been felt by the rebel Lords themselves, to be as much in her favour as it was possible for any negative evidence to be.[251]
Having thus stated the leading External Evidences against the genuineness of these Letters, it will be worth while to examine, for a moment, Robertson’s “external proofs” in support of them,—which, when contrasted with those stated above, will be found to be of little weight. The Historian argues for their authenticity, on the following grounds:—First, “Murray and the nobles who adhered to him, affirmed, upon their word and honour, that the letters were written with the Queen’s own hand, with which they were well acquainted.” This is a very powerful argument to begin with, as if men who forged letters for a particular purpose, would themselves confess that they were forged.Second, “The Letters werepublicly produced in the Parliament of Scotland, December 1567, and were so far considered as genuine, that they are mentioned in the Act against Mary, as one chief argument of her guilt.” This is nothing but a repetition, in other words, of the former powerful argument; for the Parliament of December 1567 was the Parliament assembled by Murray, after he had been elected Regent, and he was able to secure the passing of any act he chose. Where Robertson learned, that at this Parliament “the letters were publicly produced,” does not appear, as his reference to Goodall (vol. ii. p. 66) by no means authorizes the assertion.Third, “The Letters seem to have been considered genuine by Elizabeth’s Commissioners, both at York and Westminster, as appears by letters which Norfolk, Sussex, and Sadler, wrote from York; and as, in the journal of the proceedings at Hampton Court, it is said that, when the letters supposed to be written by the Queen of Scots, ‘were duly conferred and compared for the manner of writing and fashion of orthography, with sundry other letters long since heretofore written, and sent by the said Queen of Scots to the Queen’s Majesty, in the collation no difference was found.’” It has been seen, however, that whatever Norfolk chose to write concerning those letters with the view of pleasing Elizabeth, and concealing from her his own engagements and designs, he was, in truth, so little influenced by them, that he avowed a passion for Mary, and risked his life and fortune in order to become her husband. It has been also seen, that the hasty collation, made by the nobles at Hampton Court, of these pretended letters,with others, “long since heretofore written” and furnished by Elizabeth herself, is, in truth, no collation at all, or one upon which no dependence be placed.Fourth, “The Earl of Lennox, both in public, and in a private letter he wrote to his own wife, so expressed himself, that it is plain he not only thought the Queen guilty, but believed the authenticity of her letters to Bothwell.” This matter has been already investigated. The Regent Lennox was obliged to maintain Mary’s guilt for his own sake; and it is scarcely to be supposed he would have been so imprudent as write to his wife, to inform her that the opinions he had so strenuously supported before the world were not those of his heart and conscience. Murray himself would as soon have acknowledged that the letters were fabricated as Lennox. But it is a strong fact, that, though she had every inducement to think as her husband did, Lady Lennox believed Mary innocent. These are all Robertson’s “external proofs of the genuineness of Mary’s letters.”[252]
The external evidence against these writings, is probably enough to convince every impartial reader that they are forgeries. But, as they exist in one shape or other, it may be as well to go a step further, and see whether their perusal will strengthen or weaken the belief of their fabrication. This brings us to the second division of the subject, which will not detain us so long as the first.
Internal Evidences.—Considering the weight which Mary’s enemies have attached tothese letters, the first question the impartial inquirer would naturally ask is, whether properly authenticated copies of what Mary is alleged to have written can still be seen,—whether theipsissima verbawhich she used have been preserved,—and whether an opportunity can thus be had of judging of the precise shade of meaning of particular passages, and of the general style and tenor of these strange compositions. In answer to these inquiries it has to be stated, that the letters, as taken out of the casket, were exhibited only to a few noblemen, who acted under Elizabeth; and that nothing but translations of them are now extant. The Latin edition of Buchanan’s “Detection,” published in 1571, contained only the three first letters translated into Latin; in the Scottish edition, all the eight letters were translated into Scotch.[253]The originals were thus left at the mercy of translators; and, in particular, at the mercy of such a translator as Buchanan, who cannot be supposed to have had any great desire to be scrupulously accurate. In 1572, a French edition of the “Detection” was published at London, to which were subjoined seven French letters and the love-sonnets. For two hundred years, no one doubted but that these were Mary’s original letters, and they were always referred to as such in any controversies which took place on the subject. In 1754, however, Mr Walter Goodall, keeper of the Advocates’ Library at Edinburgh, published his “Examination of the Letters,” and showed, in the clearest manner, that theseseven French letters were nothing but re-translations from the Latin and Scottish translations which had been previously published. This was certainly an important and interesting discovery, although it scarcely warranted the conclusion which Goodall thought he was entitled to draw from it, that no French copy of the letters had, in reality, ever existed until the Latin and Scottish editions were first fabricated. Robertson and others have maintained more justly, that, though they acknowledge Goodall to have proved that the existing French copies of the letters are only translations from translations, there is, nevertheless, no reason to believe that these are the French letters which were produced by Murray at York and Westminster, copies of which they grant have never been given to the world. That this is the true state of the case, appears by the French editor’s own admission in his Preface. “The letters subjoined to this work,” he says, “were written by the Queen, partly in French and partly in Scotch, and were afterwards translated altogether into Latin; but having no knowledge of the Scottish language, I have preferred translating accurately from the Latin copy, lest, by being over scrupulous about changing a single syllable, I might frustrate the reader in his desire to ascertain precisely to whom the fault of the execrable murder, and other enormities mentioned in them, ought to be ascribed.”[254]Thus, both by the ignorance which this translator evinces, in alleging, contrary to the assertions which had been made by Murray, that theletters were originally written partly in French and partly in Scotch, and, by his own confession, that he preferred translating from the Latin wherever he could get it, rather than from the Scotch, it is perfectly evident that no such thing as the original French letters have ever appeared, and that the French letters which do exist, are not so much to be depended on as even the Scotch or Latin, which were probably translated directly from the epistles which Murray produced.
In what condition, then, do we find these wonderful letters about which so much has been written? We have three in Latin, eight in Scotch, and seven in French. The French are only re-translations from the Latin and Scottish; and they, in their turn, are translations from the invisible French originals. And under whose superintendence were these translations, into the Scottish and Latin, made? It must have been either under that of Murray, or of Elizabeth and Cecil. The former, after merely showing the letters at Westminster, took them back with him to Scotland; but intrusted the latter with copies.[255]It is not very likely that the Scottish translation could be made in England; and the three that have been rendered into Latin, have been commonly attributed to George Buchanan. Laing, however, labours to show, that this is a mistake, and that the translation was made by a Dr Wilson, Elizabeth’s master of requests. Be this as it may, in what court of law or equity would such documents as these be admitted as evidence? The grossest errorshave often been made by translators, even where they were anxious to be as faithful as possible. Yet we are now called upon to form an opinion of letters, which exist in languages different from that in which they were originally written, and which are either translations from translations, or translations executed by those who had every motive and desire to pervert the original, and make it appear much worse than it really was. What jury would for a moment look at such letters? What impartial judge would allow his mind to be biassed by them, altered and garbled as they must unquestionably be, even supposing that their originals once existed? It was to Buchanan’s Detection that these letters were always subjoined. At Westminster, Murray produced a Book of Articles, in five parts, containing certain presumptions, likelihoods and circumstances, whereby it should evidently appear, that as Bothwell was the chief murderer of the King, so was the Queen a deviser and maintainer thereof. “From the explanation given in Buchanan’s History,” says Laing, “the book of articles corresponds, and was undoubtedly the same with the Detection of the doings of Mary.”[256]Buchanan, identifying as he did, his interests with those of Murray, was from the first one of the most active of the Queen’s prosecutors. The dependence to be placed upon his accuracy and honesty as a controversialist, has been already pretty clearly established; and the sort of translations he would make, of any of Mary’s writings, may be very easily conjectured.
Laing, however, claims the merit of a discovery, which, at first sight, appears somewhat remarkable. It is a copy of one of the eight Love-letters, in the original French, and found in the State-Paper Office in a book containing, “Letters upon Scottish Affairs to Queen Elizabeth.” Whether it be in the original French or not, it is certainly different from the French translation published with the French edition of the Detection in 1572, and has altogether a greater air of originality about it. But being confessedly only a copy, it is quite impossible to say whether it is Mary’s French, or that of some one who chose to write French in her name. It is, besides, remarkable, that, even though it could be proved to demonstration to be a copy of a genuine letter, it does not contain a single word which, in the slightest degree, implicates Mary. Introduced, it is true, as one of a series, all of which, it is maintained, were addressed to Bothwell, something suspicious might easily be made out of it. But, as it stands by itself, it must be taken by itself; and as it bears no address or date, it may just as well be supposed to have been written to Darnley, or even to a female friend. The subject spoken of, is the ungrateful conduct of one of Mary’s female attendants; and the advice of the person to whom it is written is asked, as to what is proper to be done in consequence. To this person, whoever it was, several natural terms of endearment are also applied, such as, “Mon cœur,” and, “Ma chere vie;” and these are all the grounds of suspicion which this “Copy from the State-Paper Office,” contains.[257]
Having thus shown the extreme uncertainty which must attend any argument against Mary, founded on any minute or literal examination of these Letters, a very few objections further may be stated to them, upon evidences which they themselves afford.
Although it is impossible to form any opinion of thewordswhich Mary may have used in these letters, some conclusions may be drawn from thesentimentswhich the translators of course pretend not to have altered. These are, in many respects, directly contradictory of the character which history proves her to have possessed. Whatever follies Mary may have committed—whatever weaknesses she may have fallen into—it cannot bedenied, even by her worst enemies, that she was a woman of a proud spirit, and too much accustomed to admiration and flattery, to consider her esteem a gift of little value. Yet, through all these writings, she is made to evince a degree of ardour and forwardness of affection for Bothwell, at once against every notion of female delicacy, and all probability. She is continually made to express fears that he does not return her love with an equal warmth,—that he loves his wife, the Lady Jane Gordon, better than he does her,—and that he is not so zealous in bringing about their mutual purposes as she could wish. If Bothwell had ever carried on these criminal intrigues with Mary, one of his first objects would have been to remove from her mind all suspicion that he was not in truth devotedly attached to her. Whether he was successful in deceiving her or not, is it likely that Mary Queen of Scots, whose hand had been sought by all the first Princes in Christendom, would have condescended to servility, meanness, and abject cringing in her advances to him? If the letters were forged, Murray would naturally wish to put in as strong a point of view as possible, Mary’s anxiety to urge Bothwell on to all the crimes which he perpetrated. But if letters had been really written by her, many compunctious visitings of conscience would surely be apparent in them,—many a fear would be expressed,—many a symptom would be discovered of the reluctance with which she yielded to the overwhelming strength of Bothwell’s passion and entreaties. Yet in these letters nothing of the kind is to be found. Passages occur continually, in which, far from there being any of the conscious confusion and hesitationwhich would necessarily have marked the style of one who was, for the first time, deviating so far from the paths of virtue, nothing is to be discovered but the hardened vice and shameless effrontery of a confirmed andmasculine villain.
Another peculiarity is to be observed in the first and longest of these letters. In describing a conversation which she had with Darnley at Glasgow, Mary is made to give very minutely all his defence of his own conduct, in reply to some charges which she brought against him; and to make it evident that he was in the right, and that she herself, even when instigating Bothwell to his murder, must have felt him to be so. “This is another proof of forgery,” says Whittaker; “that the Queen should repeat all the King’s defences of himself, and should not repeat her replies to them, is contrary to every principle of the human heart. Our natural fondness for ourselves puts us constantly upon a conduct the very reverse of all this. We shorten the defences, we lengthen the replies; or, if we are fair enough to give the full substance of the former, we are always partial enough to do the same by the latter.”[258]The forger, however, in his anxiety to throw as much odium as possible upon Mary, was willing to diminish some of even Bothwell’s responsibility, and disposed to vindicate Darnley entirely; but he took a clumsy method of effecting his purpose.
Notwithstanding these considerations, Robertson was of opinion, as usual, that the style and sentiments of these letters tended on the whole to prove that they were genuine. His principal reason forentertaining this belief is, that “there are only imperfect hints, obscure intimations, and dark expressions in the letters, which, however convincing evidence they might furnish if found in real letters, bear no resemblance to that glare and superfluity of evidence which forgeries commonly contain.” “Had Mary’s enemies been so base as to have recourse to forgery, is it not natural to think, that they would have produced something more explicit and decisive?”—“Mary’s letters, especially the first, are filled with a multiplicity of circumstances extremely natural in a real correspondence, but altogether foreign to the purpose of the Queen’s enemies, and which it would have been perfect folly to have inserted, if they had been altogether imaginary and without foundation.” There is some plausibility in this view of the subject; and Laing and others have dwelt upon it at great length, and with much confidence. But it is divested of all force as soon as we come to consider the manner in which these letters would be prepared, if they were in truth forgeries. The long time which elapsed after Mary’s imprisonment in Loch-Leven, before any allusion was made to them, and the still longer time they were allowed to lie dormant after their existence had been first asserted, has been already described. Upon the hypothesis that they were fabrications, it was during this period that Murray and his associates were engaged in preparing them; and they would probably reason on the following grounds, as to what ought to be the nature of their contents. The point they wished to establish was, “that as the Earl of Bothwell was chief executor of the horrible and unworthy murder; so was the Queen of the fore-knowledge, counsel, device,persuader and commander of the said murder to be done.” They knew that, in so far as appearances went, nothing made this latter part of the assertion in the least probable, except the circumstance of Mary having been married to Bothwell, which they themselves had declared was a forced marriage, and which Mary had proved to be so by taking the first opportunity which occurred to desert him. It had become necessary, however, even at the expense of their own consistency to accuse the Queen of having acted in concert with Bothwell throughout. No evidence whatever would establish this fact, (the more especially as all the confessions and depositions of Bothwell’s accomplices tended to exculpate her), except writings under her own hand acknowledging her guilt. In order to make it appear possible that Mary had committed an account of that guilt to paper, the idea of letters to a confidential friend naturally suggested itself; and to none could these letters with so much propriety be addressed as to Bothwell himself; because, having subsequently married him, it was to be shown that it was her inordinate affection for him that induced her to wish for the death of Darnley. The train being thus laid, the next question was, in what precise manner Mary was to be made to address Bothwell. The forgers would at once perceive, that it would not do to make her speak straight out, and in plain terms command the perpetration of the murder, and arrange all the preliminary steps for it. This would have been to represent Mary as at once a Messalina and a Medea,—which even Murray felt would have been going too far. The letters were to show her guilt, but to show it in such a manneras she herself might be naturally supposed to have exhibited it, had she actually written them;—and nothing therefore was to be introduced but those “imperfect hints, obscure intimations, and dark expressions,” which, without the “glare and superfluity” of common forgeries, furnished convincing evidence when found in letters alleged to be real. Murray, Morton, Maitland, and Buchanan, were no ordinary forgers; and if they were not able to conceive and express the whole so artfully, that it would cost some difficulty to detect them, then, forgery in every instance must be hopeless and manifest.