For what it is worth, Lesley’s tale to this effect has some shadowy corroboration. At Norfolk’s Trial for Treason (1571), Serjeant Barham alleged that Lethington ‘stole away the Letters, and kept them one night, and caused his wife to write them out.’Thatstory Barham took from Lesley’s confession. But he added, from what source we know not, ‘Howbeit the same were but copies, translated out of French into Scots: which, when Lethington’s wife had written them out, he caused to be sent to the Scottish Queen. She laboured to translate them again into French, as near as she could to the originals wherein she wrote them, but that was not possible to do, but there was some variance in the phrase, by which variance, as God would, the subtlety of that practice came to light.’ ‘What if all this be true? What is this to the matter?’ asked the Duke.[269]
What indeed? Mary had not kept copies of her letters to Bothwell, if she wrote them. She was short of paper when she wrote Letter II., if she wrote it, and certainly could make no copy: the idea is grotesque.What ‘subtlety of practice’ could she intend?[270]Conceivably, if Lethington sent her copies of both French and Scots (which is denied), she may have tried whether she could do the Scots into the French idioms attributed to her, and, if she could not, might advance the argument that the French was none of hers. Barham avers that she received no French copies. But did Lesley say, with truth, that she received any copies? Here, confession for confession, that of Robert Melville gives the lie to Lesley’s. Melville (who, years later, had been captured with Lethington and Kirkcaldy of Grange in the Castle) was examined at Holyrood, on October 19, 1573.[271]According to Lesley, Melville rode to Bolton with Lethington’s letters from Fast Castle,beforethemeeting of Commissioners at York. But Melville denies this: his account runs thus:
‘Inquirit quhat moved him to ryde to the quene in England the tyme that the erll of morey Regent was thair, he not being privie therto? Answeris it wes to get a discharge of sic thingis as she had gotten from him. And that the Regent wes privie to the same and grantit him licence to follow efter. Bot wald not let him pas in company wt him.And denys that he past first to bolton bot come first to York.’
If Melville told truth, then he did not secretly visit Mary before the Conference, and she did not deal then with Lethington, or receive copies of the Casket Letters, or bid any one ‘stay these rigorous accusations and travail with the Duke of Norfolk in her favour,’ as Lesley confessed.[272]The persons who examined Melville, in 1573, were acquainted with Lesley’s confession of 1571, and Melville is deliberately and consciously contradicting the evidence of Lesley. Both confessed when in perilous circumstances. Which of the two can we believe?
On Saturday, October 2, Mary’s Commissioners arrived in York, but Wood did not ride in from London till October 8.[273]Moray and the other Commissioners of the Lords came in on Sunday, followed, an hour later, by the English negotiators: ‘mediators,’ Mary calls them. Then began a contest of intrigue and infamy. If we believeMelville, he no sooner arrived in York than Moray sent him to Bolton, ‘to deal with the Queen as of his awin heid,’—that is, as if the proposal were an unofficial suggestion of his own. He was to propose a compromise: the Lords were not to accuse her, and she was to stay in England with a large allowance, Moray still acting as Regent. ‘The Quene did take it verie hardlie at the begyning ... bot in the end condescendit to it, swa that it come of [part obliterated] the Quene of England’s sute.’ Melville was then kept going to and from Bolton, till the Commissioners departed to London. On this statement Moray, apparently as soon as the Commissioners met at York, treated with Mary for a compromise in his favour, and Mary assented, though reluctantly.[274]
Turning to the reports of Elizabeth’s Commissioners, we find that, on October 4, they met Mary’s Commissioners, and deemed their instructions too limited. Mary’s men proposed to ask for larger license, and, meanwhile, to proceed. But Herries (Oct. 6) declared that he would ‘in no ways say all in this matter that he knew to be true.’[275]Moray and Lethington, already ‘though most sorry that it is now come to that point,’ said that they must disclose what they knew. Lethington by no means tried to ‘mitigate these rigours intended,’ as in the letter which Lesley says that he sent to Mary by Melville. He already boasted of what ‘they couldan’ they would.’ Probably Lethington, to use a modern phrase, was ‘bluffing.’ Nothing could suit him worse than a public disclosure of the letters, laying him open to aripostefrom Mary if she were allowed to be present, and speak for herself. His game was to threaten disclosure, and even to make it unofficially, so as to frighten Mary into silence, and residence in England, while he kept secretly working for another arrangement with Norfolk, behind the backs of the other English Commissioners.
This was a finesse in which Lethington delighted, but it was a most difficult game to play. His fellows, except Morton, not a nervous man, were less compromised than he, or not compromised at all, and they might break away from him, and offer in spite of him (as they finally did) a public disclosure of the Letters. The other English Commissioners, again, might not take their cue from Norfolk. Above all, Norfolk himself must be allowed to see the Letters, and yet must be induced to overlook or discredit the tale of the guilt of Mary, which they revealed. This was the only part of Lethington’s arduous task in which he succeeded, and here he succeeded too well.[276]
On October 6, Norfolk, writing for himself, told Cecil that, from the talk of Mary’s enemies, ‘the matter I feare wyll fall owte very fowle.’[277]On October 8, Mary’s men produced their charges against the Lords. The signers were Lesley, LordLivingstone (who certainly knew whether the anecdote about himself, in the Glasgow Letter II., was true or not), Herries (who, in June, had asked Elizabeth what she intended to do if Mary was proved guilty), Cockburn of Skirling, a Hamilton, commendator or lay abbot of Kilwinning, and Lord Boyd.
Lennox, who was present at York,[278]burning for leave to produce his indictment, had asked his retainers to collect evidence against Herries, Fleming, Lord Livingstone, ‘and all these then in England,’ with Mary. On this head Lennox got no help, except so far as an anecdote, in the Casket Letter II., implied Livingstone’s knowledge of Mary’s amour with Bothwell. He, therefore, in a paper which we can date about October 4, 1568,[279]suggests ‘that the Lord Livingstone may be examined upon his oath of the words between his mistress and him at Glasgow, mentioned in her own letter.’ But this very proper step was never taken: nor was Lennox then heard. The words might have been used, but that would not prove Mary’s authorship of the letter containing them. They might have been supplied by Lady Reres, after her quarrel with Mary in April-May, 1567. Moray next desired to know—
1. Whether the English Commissioners had authority to pronounce Mary guilty or not guilty. (She had protested (Oct. 7) that she ‘was not subject to any judge on earth.’)
2. Whether the Commissioners will promise to give verdict instantly.
3. Whether, if the verdict was ‘guilty,’ Mary would be handed over to them, or kept prisoner in England.
4. Whether, in that case, Elizabeth would recognise Moray as Regent.
Till these questions were answered (they were sent on to Elizabeth), Moray could not ‘enter to the accusation.’[280]Hitherto they had been ‘content rather to hide and conceal than to publish and manifest to the world’ Mary’s dishonour. They had only told all Europe—in an unofficial way. The English Commissioners waited for Elizabeth’s reply. On the 11th October, Moray replied to the charges of Mary, without accusing her of the murder. He also ‘privately,’ and unofficially, showed to the English Commissioners some of the Casket Papers. Lethington, Wood (?), Makgill, and Buchanan (in a new suit of black velvet) displayed and interpreted the documents. They included a warrant of April 19, signed by Mary, authorising the Lords to sign the Ainslie band, advising Bothwell to marry her.[281]Of this warrant we hear nothing, as far as I have observed, at Westminster.[282]Calderwood, speaking of Morton’s trial in 1581, says that ‘he had,’ for signing Ainslie’s band, ‘a warrant from the Queen, which none of the rest had.’[283]At York, the Lords said that all of themhad this warrant. ‘Before they had this warrant, there was none of them that did, or would, set to their hands, saving only the Earl of Huntly.’ Yet they also alleged that they signed ‘more for fear than any liking they had of the same.’ They alleged that they were coerced by 200 musketeers.[284]Now Kirkcaldy, on April 20, 1567, reports the signing of the Band on the previous day, to Bedford, but says not a word of the harquebus men. They are not mentioned till ten days later.
Lethington kindly explained the reason for Mary’s abduction, which certainly needs explanation. A pardon for that, he told the English Lords, would be ‘sufficient also for the murder.’ The same story is given in the ‘Book of Articles,’ the formal impeachment of Mary.[285]Presently the English Commissioners were shown ‘one horrible and long letter of her own hand, containing foul matter and abominable ... with divers fond ballads of her own hand, which letters, ballads, and other writings before specified, were closed in a little coffer of silver and gilt, heretofore given by her to Bothwell.’
After expressing abhorrence, the three Commissioners enclose extracts, partly in Scots.[286]TheCommissioners, after seeing the papers unofficially, go on to ask how they are to proceed. Their letter has been a good deal modified, by the authors, in a rather less positive and more sceptical sense than the original, which has been deciphered.[287]
On the same day, Norfolk wrote separately to Pembroke, Leicester, and Cecil. He excused the delays of the Scots: ‘they stand for their lives, lands, goods, and they are not ignorant, if they would, for it is every day told them, that, as long as they abstain from touching their Queen’s honour, she will make with them what reasonable end they can devise....’ In fact, as Melville has told us, he himself was their go-between for the compromise. Norfolk adds that there are two ways, by justice public and condign, ‘if the fact shall be thought as detestable and manifest to you, as, for aught we can perceive, it seemeth here to us,’ or, if Elizabethprefer it, ‘to make such composition as in so broken a cause may be.’
Norfolk seems in exactly the mind of an honourable man, horrified by Mary’s guilt, and anxious for her punishment. He either dissembled, or was a mere weathercock of sentiment, or, presently, he found reason to doubt the authenticity of what he had been shown. Lethington, we saw, showed the letters, unofficially, on October 11. On October 12, Knollys had a talk with Mary. ‘When,’ asked she, ‘will they proceed to their odious accusations, or will they stay and be reconciled to me, or what will my good sister do for me?’ Surely an innocent lady would have said, ‘Let them do their worst: I shall answer them. A reconciliation with dastardly rebels I refuse.’ That was not Mary’s posture: ‘But,’ she said, ‘if they will fall to extremities they shall be answered roundly, and at the full, and then are we past all reconciliations.’ So wrote Knollys to Norfolk, on October 14.[288]Mary would fall back on her ‘something in black and white.’
On October 13, Lesley and Boyd rode to Bolton, says Knollys, and told Mary what Lethington had done: his privy disclosure of her Letters. He himself was doubtless their informant, his plan being to coerce her into a compromise.
Of all things, it now seemed most unlikely that Norfolk would veer round to Mary’s side, and desire to marry her. But this instantly occurred, and thequestion is, had he seen reason to doubt the authenticity of the letter which so horrified him? Had Lethington told him something on that long ride which they took together, on Saturday, October 16?[289]As shall be shown, in our chapter on the Possible Forgers, this may be what Lethington had done, and over-done. He had shaken Norfolk’s belief in the Letter, so much that Norfolk presently forbade Mary to accept a compromise!
The evidence of Lesley is here, as usual, at cross purposes. In his confession (November 6, 1571) he says that Robert Melville took him to Lethington’s lodgings,afterLethington had secretly shown the Letters. ‘We talked almost a whole night.’ Lethington said that Norfolk favoured Mary, and wished Moray to drop the charges and arrange a compromise.
Meanwhile in a letter to Mary (after October 16)[290]Lesley first, as in his confession, says that he has conferred with Lethington ‘great part of a night.’ Lethington had ridden out with Norfolk, on October 16, and learned from him that Elizabeth aimed at delay, and at driving Moray to do his very worst.When they had produced ‘all they can against you,’ Elizabeth would hold Mary prisoner, till she could ‘show you favour.’ Norfolk therefore now advised Mary to feign submission to Elizabeth, who would probably be more kind in two or three months.[291]If so, Lethington’s words had not yet their full effect, or Norfolk dissembled.
If we are to believe Sir James Melville, who was at York, Norfolk also conferred with Moray himself, who consulted Lethington and Sir James; but not the other Commissioners, his allies. His friends advised him to listen to Norfolk. We have Moray’s own account of the transaction. In October, 1569, when Norfolk was under the suspicion of Elizabeth, Moray wrote to her with his version of the affair.[292]‘When first in York I was moved to sue familiar conference with the Duke as a mean to procure us expedition.’ He found the Duke ‘careful to have her schame coverit, hir honour repairit, schew(ed) hir interest to the title of the crown of England.... It was convenient she had “ma” (more) children,’ who would be friends of Moray, and so on. The guileless Regent dreamed ‘of nothing less than that Norfolk had in any way pretended to the said marriage.’ Butnow(1569) Moray sees that Norfolk’s idea was to make him seem the originator of the marriage.
Meanwhile Robert Melville was still (he says) negotiating between Mary and Moray, on the basisof Mary’s abdication and receipt of a large pension from Scotland. Melville rode to London to act for Mary on October 25.[293]But, before that date, on October 16, Elizabeth wrote to Norfolk as to the demands of Moray made on October 11, and under the influence of what she had now learned from her Commissioners as to the Casket Letters, and, perhaps, of suspicions of Norfolk. Practically, she removed the Conference to London, ordering Norfolk so to manage that Mary should think her restoration was to be arranged.[294]Mary weakly consented to the change ofvenue(October 22). She sent Lesley and Herries to represent her in London.
At this moment, namely (October 22) when Mary consented to the London Conference, it seems that she expected a compromise on the lines discussed between Moray and herself. She would resign the crown, and live affluently in England, while Moray would not produce his accusations, and would exercise the Regency. This course would be fatal to Mary’s honour, in the eyes of history, but contemporaries would soon forget all, except that there had been gossip about compromising letters. The arrangement proposed was, then, reluctantly submitted to by Mary, according to Robert Melville. But it occurred to Norfolk that he could hardly marry a woman on whom such a blot rested, or, more probably, that his ambition would gain little by wedding a Queen retired, under a cloud, from her realm. If I am right, hehad now come, under Lethington’s influence, to doubt the authenticity of the Casket Letters.
That Norfolk opposed compromise appears from Robert Melville’s deposition. On arriving in London, he met Herries, who, rather to his surprise, knew the instructions of Mary to Robert himself. ‘The Lord Herries sayand to this deponair that he’ (Melville) ‘was cum thither with sic commission to deale privelie with the Quene of England, howbeit thair wes mair honest men thair’ (than Melville). ‘The men that had bene the caus of hir trouble’ (Morton and the rest) ‘wald be prefarit in credit to thame. This berair (Melville) be the contraire affirmit that the caus of his cumming thair wes to be a witness in caise he should be called upon,’ namely to the fact that Mary did not sign her abdication (at Loch Leven) as a free agent. Melville goes on to say that, ‘in the tyme quhan it was thocht that course’ (the compromise with Murray) ‘should have past furthair, thair com a writing from the quene to the Bishop of Ross that the Scotch partie heard the Bishop reid, and partly red himself, bearing amangis uther purposis that the Duke of Norfolk had send liggynnis’ (Liggens, or Lygons his messenger) ‘to hir and forbid hir to dimitt hir crown. And sa the Bishop willit the Secretair’ (Lethington) ‘to lief of that course’ (the compromise) ‘as a thing the Quene (Mary) was not willing to, without the Duke’ (Norfolk) ‘gaif hir counsail thairto.’[295]
Thus it appears that Norfolk prevented Mary from pursuing her compromise (which Lethington was favouring in his own interest) and from abdicating, leaving the Letters unproduced. Lethington had shaken his faith in the authenticity of the Casket Letters. That Mary should have acquiesced in a compromise demonstrates that she dreaded Moray’s accusations. That, at a word from Norfolk, she reconsidered and altered her plan, proves that she could, in her opinion, outface her accusers, and indicates that Norfolk now distrusted the genuine character of the Letters. She knew, if not by the copies of her Letters which Lethington did (or did not) send her, at least by Lesley’s report of that which Lethington showed the English Commissioners, what her enemies could do. She would carry the war into Africa, accuse her accusers, and, in a dramatic scene in Westminster Hall, before the Peers and the foreign Ambassadors, would rout her enemies. That, if accused, she would not be allowed to be present, and to reply, did not occur to her. Such injustice was previously unknown. That she would be submitting to a judge, or judges, she could overlook, or would, later, protest that she had never done. According to Nau, she had made the same offer to defend herself (as we have seen) to Moray, before the Scots Parliament of December, 1567.
Mary’s plan was magnificent. Sussex himself, writing from York, on October 22, saw the force ofher tactics.[296]He speaks, as well he might, of ‘the inconstancy and subtleness of the people with whom we deal.’ Mary must be found guilty, or the matter must be huddled up ‘with a show of saving her honour.’ ‘The first, I think, will hardly be attempted, for two causes: the one for that if her adverse party accuse her of the murder by producing of her letters, she will deny them, and accuse the most of them of manifest consent to the murder,hardly to be denied; so as, upon the trial on both sides,her proofs will judicially fall out best, as it is thought.’ The other reason for not finding Mary guilty was that, if little James died, the Hamiltons were next heirs. This would not suit Moray, he (like Norfolk) would now wish for more children of Mary’s, to keep the Hamiltons out, but, if she were now defamed, there would be a difficulty as to their succession to the crown. So Sussex believed (rightly) that a compromise was intended, for which Lethington, as he says, had been working at York, while Robert Melville was also engaged. Sussex then states the compromise in the same terms as Robert Melville did, adding that Moray would probably hand his proofs over to Mary, and clear her by a Parliamentary decree. The Hamiltons had other ideas. ‘You will find Lethington wholly bent to composition.’ A general routing out of evidence did not suit Lethington.
To Sussex, the one object was to keep Mary in England; a thing easy if Moray produced his proofs,and if Elizabeth, ‘by virtue of her superiority over Scotland,’ gave a verdict against Mary. But Sussex thought that the proofs of Moray ‘will not fall out sufficiently to determine judicially, if she denies her letters.’
This was the opinion of a cool, unprejudiced, and well-informed observer. Mary’s guilt could not, he doubted, be judicially proved. Moray’s party, he might have added, would have been ruined by an acknowledgment of English suzerainty. The one thing was to prevent the Scots from patching a peace with Mary. And, to that end, though Sussex does not say so, Mary must not be allowed to appear in her own defence.
On October 30, Elizabeth held a great Council at Hampton Court. Mary’s Commissioners, and then those of the Lords, were to have audience of her. Mary’s men were to be told that Elizabeth wished ‘certain difficulties resolved.’ To the Lords, she would say that they should produce their charges: if they were valid, Elizabeth would protect them, and detain Mary during their pleasure. As Mary was sure to hear of this plan, she was to be removed from Bolton to Tutbury, which was not done till later. Various peers were to be added to the English Commission, but not the foreign Ambassadors; though, on June 20, the Council reckoned it fair to admit them.[297]
Mary heard of all this, and of Moray’s admissionto Elizabeth’s presence, from Hepburn of Riccartoun, Bothwell’s friend and kinsman (November 21).[298]On November 22, therefore, she wrote to bid her Commissioners break up the Conference, if she, the accused, was denied the freedom to be present, conceded to Moray, the accuser. Nothing could be more correct, but, at the same time, in ‘a missive letter’ Mary suggested to her Commissioners that they should again try to compromise, saving her crown and honour.[299]These would not have been saved by the compromise which, according to Robert Melville, Norfolk forbade her to make.
THE LETTERS AT WESTMINSTER AND HAMPTON COURT
The Commission opened on November 25 at Westminster, after Elizabeth had protested that she would not ‘take upon her to be judge.’[300]
On the 26th Moray put in a written Protestation, as to their reluctance in accusing Mary. They then put in an ‘Eik,’ or addition, with the formal charge.[301]On the 29th November, the Lords said that this charge might be handed to Mary’s Commissioners. Lennox appeared as an accuser, and put in ‘A Discourse of the Usage’ of Darnley by Mary: the last of his Indictments. It covered three sheets of paper. Mary’s men now entered, received Moray’s accusation, retired, discussed it, and asked for a delay for consideration. On December 1, they returned. Moray’s ‘Eik’ of accusation had been presented to Mary’s Commissioners on November 29. James Melville says that Lethington was not present, had ‘a sore heart,’ and whispered to Moray that he had shamed himself for ever. The Letters would comeout. Mary would retort. Lethington would be undone. Mary’s men might have been expected, as they asked for a delay, to protract it till they could consult their mistress. The wintry weather was evil, the roads were foul, communication was slow, and the injustice to Mary of keeping her at four or five days’ distance from her representatives was disgraceful. Instead of consulting her, the Commissioners for Mary met the English on December 1.
They had none of her courage, and Herries had plainly shown to Elizabeth his want of confidence in Mary’s innocence. In June he had asked Elizabeth what she meant to do if appearances proved against Mary. And he told Mary that he had done so.[302]He now read a tame speech, inveighing against the accusers, and declaring that, when the cause should be further tried, some of them would be proved guilty of entering into bands for Darnley’s murder. Lesley followed, stating that he and his fellows must see Elizabeth, and communicate to her Mary’s demand to be heard in person, before Elizabeth, the Peers, and the Ambassadors; while the accusers must be detained till the end of the cause.[303]On December 3, Lesley and the rest presented these demands to Elizabeth at Hampton Court. The Council later put the request before legal advisers, who replied at length. They answered that even God (though He was fully acquainted with all thecircumstances) did not condemn Adam and Eve unheard. But as to Mary’s non-recognition of a mortal judge, that was absurd. If she meant to be heard, she tacitly acknowledged the jurisdiction: which is perfectly true. A door must be open or shut. Thirdly, it was ridiculous to ask Elizabeth to be present, but only as a spectator. Fourthly, it was no less absurd to ask all the nobles to attend a trial which might be long, but they might choose representatives, if Mary desired it, to appear when convenient. Fifthly, it was ridiculous to demand the presence of ambassadors, who would be neither prosecutors, defenders, judges, clerks, nor witnesses: they could only be lookers-on, like other people. That the scene should be London was reasonable, but it might be elsewhere.
There was this addition (puis est adjouxté), ‘We think this voluntary offer’ (of Mary) ‘so important that, in our opinion, all her demands should be granted, without prejudice or contravention to the Queen of England, so that none may be able to say a word against the manner of procedure.’[304]
To myself it appears that the majority of the civilians consulted returned the reply which insists that Mary must be tried with acknowledgment of jurisdiction, if she is to be heard at all, and that the addition, declaring her demands just, is the conclusion of a minority. Mary wanted the pomp and publicityof a great trial, which, after all, was to be a mere appeal to public opinion. As Queen of Scots, she could not destroy the fruits of Bannockburn and the wars of Independence, by acknowledging an English sovereign as her Judge and Superior. She could not return to the position of John Balliol under Edward I. She had been beguiled into confiding her cause to Elizabeth, and this was the result.
On December 4, Mary’s men, without consulting her, made a fatal error. Before seeing Elizabeth they met Leicester and Cecil, in a room apart, and asked that Elizabeth should be informed of their readiness, even now, to make a compromise, with surety to Moray and his party. Now Mary had declared to Knollys that, if once Moray accused her publicly, they were ‘past all reconciliation.’ That was the only defensible position, yet her Commissioners, perhaps with her approval, receded from it. Elizabeth seized the opportunity. It was better, she said, and rightly, for her sister’s honour, that Mary’s accusers should be charged with their audacious defaming of their Queen, and punished for the same, unless they could show ‘apparent just causes of such an attempt.’ In fact, Elizabeth must see the Letters, or cause them to be seen by her nobles. She could not admit Mary in person while, as at present, there seemed so little to justify the need of her appearance—for the Letters had not yet been shown. When they were shown, it would probably turn out, she said, that Mary need not appear at all.
The unhappy Scottish Commissioners tried to repair a blunder, which clearly arose from their undeniable want of confidence in their cause. The proposal for a compromise, they said, was entirely their own. We remember that, by Norfolk’s desire, Mary had already refused a compromise to which she had once consented. She would probably, in the now existing circumstances, have adhered to her resolution.[305]
On December 6, Moray and his party were at Westminster to produce their proofs. But Lesley put in a protest that he must, in that case, withdraw. The English Commissioners declared that, in this protest, Elizabeth’s words of December 4 were misrepresented: her words (as to seeing Moray’s proofs) having, in fact, been utterly ambiguous. She had first averred that Moray must be punished if he should be unable to show some apparent just causes ‘of such an attempt,’ and then, at a later stage of the conversation, had ‘answered that she meant not to require any proofs.’ So runs the report, annotated and endorsed by Cecil.[306]But now the Council were sitting to receive the proofs which Elizabeth had first declared that she would, and then that she would not ask for, while, after vowing that she would not ask for them, she had said that she ‘would receive them for her own satisfaction’!
The words of the protest by Mary’s Commissioners described all this, and the production of proofs inMary’s absence, as ‘a preposterous order.’[307]No more preposterous proceedings were ever heard of in history. The English Commissioners, seizing on the words ‘a preposterous order,’ declined to receive the protest till it should be amended, and at once called on Moray to produce his proofs. Moray then put in the ‘Book of Articles,’ ‘containing certain conjectures,’ a long arraignment of Mary. In the Lennox Papers is a shorter collection of ‘Probable and Infallyable Conjectures,’ an early form of Buchanan’s ‘Detection.’ The ‘Book of Articles’ occupies twenty-six closely printed pages, in Hosack, who first published it, and is written in Scots.[308]The band for Bothwell’s marriage is said to have been made at Holyrood, and Mary’s signature is declared to have been appended later. This mysterious band seems to have reached Cecilunofficially, and is marked ‘To this the Queen gave consent the night before the marriage,’ May 14 (cf. p. 254). Nothing is noted as to Darnley’s conduct in seeking to flee the realm in September, 1566, and this account is given of the well-known scene in which Mary, the Council, and du Croc attempted to extract from him his grievances. ‘He was rejected and rebuked opinlie in presence of diverse Lords then of her previe counsale, quhill he was constrenit to returnto Streviling.’ Though less inaccurate than the ‘Detection,’ the ‘Book of Articles’ is a violentex parteharangue.
Moray also put in the Act of Parliament of December, 1567. The English heard the ‘Book of Articles’ and the Act read aloud, on the night of December 6. On the 7th,[309]Moray hoped that they were satisfied. They declined to express an opinion. Moray retired with his company, and returned bearing, at last, The Casket. Morton, on oath, declared that his account of the finding of the Casket was true, and that the contents had been kept unaltered. Then a contract of marriage, said to be in Mary’s hand, and signed, but without date, was produced. The contract speaks of Darnley’s death as a past event, but they ‘did suppose’ that the deed was madebeforethe murder. They may have based this suspicion on Casket Letter III. (or VIII.) which, as we shall show, fits into noknownpart of Mary’s relations with Bothwell. Another contract, said to be in Huntly’s hand, and dated April 5, was next exhibited. Papers as to Bothwell’s Trial were shown, and those for his divorce. The Glasgow Letter I. (which in sequence of time ought to be II.) was displayed in French, and then Letter II.[310]Neither letter is stated to have been copied in French from the French original, and we have no copies of theoriginal French, which, however, certainly existed. Next day (December 8) Moray produced seven other French writings ‘in the lyk Romain hand,’ which seven writings, ‘being copied, weare red in Frenche, and a due collation made thereof as neare as could be by reading and inspection, and made to accord with the originals, which the said Erle of Murray required to be redelivered, and did thereupon deliver the copies being collationd, the tenours of which vii wrytinges hereafter follow in ordre,the first being in manner of a sonnett, “O Dieux ayez de moy etc.”’ Apparently all the sonnets here count as one piece, the other six papers being the Casket Letters III.-VIII.
No French contemporary copies of Letters I. II. have been discovered, as in the cases of III. IV. V. VI. It is notable that while the sonnets, and Letters III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. are said to have been copied from the French, this is not said of Letters I. and II. The English versions of I. and II. have been collated with the French, whether in copies or the originals. Perhaps no French copies of these have been found, because no copies were ever made: the absence of the copies in French is deplorable.
The next things were the depositions (not the dying confessions, which implicated some of the Lords) of Tala, Bowton, Powrie, and Dalgleish, and other legal documents. It does not appear that Mary’s warrant for the signing of the Ainslie band,though exhibited at York, was again produced.[311]On the 9th the Commissioners read the Casket Papers ‘duly translated into English.’ They had been translated throughout the night, probably, and very ill translated they were, to judge by the extant copies.[312]Several of the copies are endorsedin Scots. Lesley now put in a revised and amended copy of his Protest of December 6. Morton put in a written copy of his Declaration as to the finding of the Casket, and swore to its truth.[313]
Morton’s tale is that, as he was dining with Lethington in Edinburgh, on June 19, 1567, four days after Mary’s surrender at Carberry, ‘a certain man’ secretly informed him that Hepburn, Parson of Auldhamstokes, John Cockburn, brother of Mary’s adherent, Cockburn of Skirling, and George Dalgleish, a valet of Bothwell’s (and witness, at his divorce, to his adultery), had entered the Castle, then held by Sir James Balfour, who probably betrayed them. Morton sent Archibald Douglas (the blackest traitor of the age) and two other retainers to seize the men. RobertDouglas, brother of Archibald, caught Dalgleish in the Potter Row, not far from the Kirk o’ Field Gate, with charters of Bothwell’s lands. Being carried before Morton, Dalgleish denied that he had any other charge: he was detained, and, on June 20, placed in the Tolbooth. Being put into some torture engine, he asked leave to go with Robert Douglas to the Potter Row, where he revealed the Casket. It was carried to Morton at 8 o’clock at night, and, next day, June 21, was broken open, ‘in presence of Atholl, Mar, Glencairn, Morton, Home, Semple, Sanquhar, the Master of Graham, Lethington, Tullibardine, and Archibald Douglas.’ The Letters were inspected (sichtit) and delivered over to Morton, who had in no respect altered, added to, or subtracted from them.
True or false, and it is probably true, the list of persons present adds nothing to the credibility of Morton’s account. The Commissioners of Mary had withdrawn; there could not be, and there was not, any cross-examination of the men named in Morton’s list, as witnesses of the opening of the Casket. Lethington alone, of these, was now present, if indeed he appeared at this sitting, andhisemotions may be imagined! The rest might learn, later, that they had been named, from Lethington, after he joined Mary’s cause, but it is highly improbable that Lethington wanted to stir this matter again, or gave any information to Home (who was with him in the long siege of the Castle). Sanquhar and Tullibardine, citedby Morton, signed the band for delivering Mary from Loch Leven; so much effect had the ‘sichting’ of the Casket Letters onthem. The story of Morton is probably true, so far: certainly the Lords, about June 21, got the Casket, whatever its contents then were. But that the contents remained unadded to and unimpaired, and unaltered, is only attested by Morton’s oath, and by the necessary silence of Lethington, who, of all those at Westminster, alone was present at the ‘sichting,’ on June 21, 1567. But Lethington dared not speak, even if he dared to be present. If any minute was made of the meeting of June 21, if any inventory of the documents in the Casket was then compiled, Morton produced neither of these indispensable corroborations at Westminster. His peril was perhaps as great as Lethington’s, but he was of a different temperament.
The case of the Prosecution is full of examples of such unscientific handling by the cautious Scots, as the omission of minutes of June 21.
Next, on December 9, a written statement by Darnley’s servant, Nelson, who survived the explosion, was sworn to by the man himself. His evidence chiefly bore on the possession of the Keys of Kirk o’ Field by Mary’s servants, and her economy in using a door for a cover of the ‘bath-vat,’ and in removing a black velvet bed. We have dealt with it already (p. 133).
Next was put in Crawford’s deposition as to his conversations with Darnley at Glasgow. This wasintended to corroborate Letter II., but, as shall later be shown, it produces the opposite effect.[314]At an unknown date, Cecil received the Itinerary of Mary during the period under examination, which is called ‘Cecil’s Journal,’ and is so drawn up as to destroy Moray’s case, if we accept its chronology. We know not on what authority it was compiled, but Lennox, on June 11, had asked his retainers to ascertain some of the dates contained in this ‘Journal.’
On December 14[315]Elizabeth added Northumberland and Westmorland to her Commissioners. They not long after rose in arms for Mary’s cause. Shrewsbury, Huntingdon, Worcester, and Warwick also met, at Hampton Court. They were to be made to understand the case, and were told to keep it secret. Among the other documents, on December 14, theoriginalsof the Casket Letters ‘being redd, were duly conferred and compared for the manner of writing and fashion of orthography, with sundry other letters, long time heretofore written and sent by the said Quene of Scots to the Quene’s majesty. And next after, there was produced and redd a declaration of the Erle of Morton of the manner of the finding of the said lettres, as the same was exhibited upon his othe, the ix of December. In collation whereof’ (ofwhat?) ‘no difference was found. Of all which letters and writings, the true copies are contained in the memorialls of the actesof the sessions of the 7 and 8 of December.’ Apparently the ‘collation’ is intended to refer to the comparison of the Casket Letters with those of Mary to Elizabeth. Mr. Froude runs the collation into the sentence preceding that about Morton, in one quotation.
The confessions of Tala, Bowton, and Dalgleish were also read, and, ‘as night approached’ (about 3.30P.M.), the proceedings ended.[316]
The whole voluminous proceedings at York and Westminster were read through: the ‘Book of Articles’ seems to have been read,afterthe Casket Letters were read, but this was not the case. On a brief December day, the Council had work enough, and yet Mr. Froude writes that the Casket Letters ‘were examined long and minutely by each and every of the Lords who were present.’[317]We hear of no other examination of the handwriting than this: which, as every one can see, from the amount of other work, and the brevity of daylight, must have been very rapid and perfunctory.
There happens to be a recent case in which the reputation of a celebrated lady depended on a question of handwriting. Madame Blavatsky was accused of having forged the letters, from a mysterious being named Koot Hoomi, which were wont to drift out of metetherial space into the common atmosphere of drawing-rooms. A number of Koot Hoomi’slaterepistles, with others by Madame Blavatsky, weresubmitted to Mr. Netherclift, the expert, and to Mr. Sims of the British Museum. Neither expert thought that Madame Blavatsky had written the letters attributed to Koot Hoomi. But Dr. Richard Hodgson and Mrs. Sidgwick procured earlier letters by Koot Hoomi and Madame Blavatsky. They found that, in 1878, and 1879, the letterd, as written in English, occurred 210 times as against the Germand, 805 times. But in Madame Blavatsky’s earlier hand the Englishdoccurred but 15 times, to 2,200 of the Germand. The lady had, in this and other respects, altered her writing, which therefore varied more and more from the hand of Koot Hoomi. Mr. Netherclift and Mr. Sims yielded to this and other proofs: and a cold world is fairly well convinced that Koot Hoomi did not write his letters. They were written by Madame Blavatsky.[318]
The process of counting thousands of isolated characters, and comparing them, was decidedly not undertaken in the hurried assembly on that short winter day at Hampton Court, when the letters ‘were long and minutely examined by each and every of the Lords who were present,’ as Mr. Froude says. On the following day (December 15) the ‘Book of Articles’ was read aloud; though the minute of December 14 would lead us to infer that it was read on that day. The minute states that ‘there was produced a writing in manner of Articles... but, before these were read,’ the Casket Letters were studied. One would imagine that the ‘Book of Articles’ was read on the same day, after the Casket Letters had been perused. The deposition of Powrie, the Casket contracts, and other papers followed, and then another deposition of Crawford, which had been put in on December 13.
This deposition is in the Lennox MSS. in the long paper containing the description of the mysterious impossible Letter, which Moray also described, to de Silva. Crawford now swore that Bowton and Tala, ‘at the hour of their death,’ confessed, to him, that Mary would never let Bothwell rest till he slew Darnley. Oddly enough, even Buchanan, or whoever gives the dying confessions of these men, in the ‘Detection,’ says nothing about their special confession to Crawford.[319]The object of Crawford’s account appears clearly from what the contemporaries, for instance the ‘Diurnal,’ tell us about the public belief that the confession ‘fell out in Mary’s favour.’
Hepburne, Daglace, Peuory, to John Hey, mad up the nesse,Which fowre when they weare put to death the treason did confesse;And sayd that Murray, Moreton to, with others of ther rowteWere guyltie of the murder vyl though nowe they loke full stowte.Yet some perchaunce doo thinke that I speake for affection heare,Though I would so, thre thousan can hearin trew witness beareWho present weare as well as I at thexecution tyme& hard how these in conscience pricte confessed who did the cryme.[320]
A number of Acts and other public papers were then read; ‘the whole lying altogether on the council table, were one after another showed, rather “by hap” as they lay on the table than by any choice of their natures, as it might had there been time.’ Mr. Henderson argues, as against Hosack, Schiern, and Skelton, that this phrase applies only to the proceedings of December 15, not to the examination of the Casket Letters. This seems more probable, though it might be argued, from the prolepsis about reading the ‘Book of Articles’ on the 14th, that the minutes of both days were written together, on the second day, and that the hugger-mugger described applies to the work of both days. This is unimportant; every one must see that the examination of handwriting was too hasty to be critical.
The assembled nobles were then told that Elizabeth did not think shecouldlet Mary ‘come into her presence,’ while unpurged of all these horrible crimes. The Earls all agreed that her Majesty’s delicacy of feeling, ‘as the case now did stand,’ was worthy of her, and so ended the farce.[321]
Mr. Froude, on the authority (apparently) of a Simancas MS., tells us that ‘at first onlyfour—Cecil, Sadleyr, Leicester, and Bacon—declared themselves convinced.’[322]Lingard quotes a Simancas MS. saying that the nobles ‘showed some heart, and checked a little the terrible fury with which Cecil sought to ruin’ Mary.[323]Camden (writing under James VI.) says that Sussex, Arundel, Clinton, and Norfolk thought that Mary had a right to be heard in person. But Elizabeth held this advantage: Mary would not acknowledge her as a judge: she must therefore admit Mary to her presence, if she admitted her at all,notas a culprit. Elizabeth (who probably forgot Amy Robsart’s affair) deemed herself too good and pure to see, not as a prisoner at the Bar, a lady of dubious character. Thus all was well. Mary was firmly discredited (though after all most of the nobles presently approved of her marriage to Norfolk), yet she could not plead her cause in person.
MARY’S ATTITUDE AFTER THE CONFERENCE
The haggling was not ended. On December 16, 1568, Elizabeth offered three choices to Lesley: Mary might send a trusty person with orders to make a direct answer; or answer herself to nobles sent by Elizabeth; or appoint her Commissioners, or any others, to answer before Elizabeth’s Commissioners.[324]Lesley fell back on Elizabeth’s promises: and an anecdote about Trajan. On December 23 or 24, Mary’s Commissioners received a letter by her written at Bolton on December 19.[325]Mr. Hosack says that ‘she commanded them forthwith to charge the Earl of Moray and his accomplices’ with Darnley’s murder.[326]But that was just what Mary did not do as far as her letter goes, though on December 24, Herries declared that she did.[327]Friends and foes of Mary alike pervert the facts. Mary first said that she had received the ‘Eik’ in which her accusers lied,attributing to her the crimes of which they are guilty. She glanced scornfully at the charge thatshemeant to murder her child, whomtheyhad striven to destroy in her womb, at Riccio’s murder: ‘intending to have slane him and us both.’ She then, before she answers, asks to see the copies and originals of the Casket Letters, ‘the principal writings, if they have any produced,’ which she as yet knew not. And then, if she may see Elizabeth, she will prove her own innocence and her adversaries’ guilt.
Thus she does not by any means bid her friendsforthwithto accuse her foes. That would have been absurd, till she had seen the documents brought against her as proofs. But, to shorten a long story, neither at the repeated request of her Commissioners, nor of La Mothe, who demanded this act of common justice, would Elizabeth permit Mary to see either the originals, or even copies, of the Casket Letters. She promised, and broke her promise.[328]
This incident left Mary with the advantage. How can an accused person answer, if not allowed to see the documents in the case? We may argue that Elizabeth refused, because politics drifted into new directions, and inspired new designs. But Mary’s defenders can always maintain that she never was allowed to see the evidence on which she was accused. From Mary’s letter of December 19, or rather from Lesley’s précis of it (‘Extract of the principall heidis’) it is plain that she does not bid her Commissionersaccuse anybody,at the moment. But, on December 22, Lindsay challenged Herries to battle for having said that Moray, and ‘his company here present,’ were guilty of Darnley’s death. Herries admitted having said thatsomeof them were guilty. Lindsay lies in his throat if he avers that Herries spoke of him specially: and, on that quarrel, Herries will fight. And he will fight any of the principals of them if they sign Lindsay’s challenge, ‘and I shall point them forth and fight with some of the traitors therein.’ He communicated the challenge and reply to Leicester.[329]Herries probably hoped to fight Morton and Lethington.
On the 24th, Moray having complained that he and his company were slandered by Mary’s Commissioners, Lesley and Herries answered ‘that they had special command sent to them from the Queen their Mistress, to lay the said crime to their charge,’ and would accuse them. They were appointed to do this on Christmas Day, but only put in an argumentative answer to Moray’s ‘Eik.’ But on January 11, when Elizabeth had absolved both Moray and Mary (a ludicrous conclusion) and was allowing Moray and his company to go home, Cecil said that Moray wished to know whether Herries and Lesley would openly accuse him and his friends, or not. They declared that Mary had bidden them make the charge, and that they had done so,on the conditionthat Mary first received copies of the Casketdocuments. As soon as Mary received these, they would name, accuse, and prove the case, against the guilty. They themselves, as private persons, had only hearsay evidence, and would accuse no man. Moray and his party offered to go to Bolton, and be accused. But Mary (as her Commissioners at last understood) would not play her card, her evidence in black and white, till she saw the hand of her adversaries, as was fair, and she was never allowed to see the Casket documents.[330]Mary’s Commissioners appear to have blundered as usual. They gave an impression, first that they would accuse unconditionally, next that they sneaked out of the challenge.[331]But, in fact, Mary had definitely made the delivery to her of the Casket Letters, originals or even copies, and her own presence to plead her own cause, the necessary preliminary conditions of producing her own charges and proofs.
Mary’s attitude as regards the Casket Papers isnow, I think, intelligible. There was a moment, as we have seen, during the intrigues at York, when she consented to resign her crown, and let the matter be hushed up. From that position she receded, at Norfolk’s desire. The Letters were produced by her adversaries, at Westminster and at Hampton Court. She then occupied at once her last line of defence, as she had originally planned it. If allowed to see the documents put in against her, and to confront her accusers, she would produce evidence in black and white, which would so damage her opponents that her denial of the Letters would be accepted by the foreign ambassadors and the peers of England. ‘Her proofs will judicially fall out best as is thought,’ Sussex wrote, and he may have known what ‘her proofs’ were.
If we accept this as Mary’s line, we can account, as has already been hinted, for the extraordinary wrigglings of Lethington. At York, as always, he was foremost to show, or talk of the Casket Papers,in private, as a means of extorting a compromise, and hushing up the affair:publicly, he was most averse to their production. Whether he had a hand in falsifying the papers we may guess; but he knew that their public exhibition would make Mary desperate, and drive her to exhibither‘proofs.’ These would be fatal to himself.
We have said that Mary never forgave Lethington: who had been the best liked of her advisers, and, in his own interests, had ever pretended to wish toproceed against her ‘in dulse manner.’ Why did she so detest the man who, at least, died in her service?
The proofs of her detestation are found all through the MS. of her secretary, Claude Nau, written after Lethington’s death. They cannot be explained away, as Sir John Skelton tries to do, by a theory that the underlings about Mary were jealous of Lethington. Nau had not known him, and his narrative came direct from Mary herself. It is, of course, worthless as evidence in her favour, but it is highly valuable as an index of Mary’s own mind, and of her line of apologypro vita sua.
Nau, then, declares (we have told all this, but may recapitulate it) that the Lords, in the spring of 1567, sent Lethington, and two others, to ask her to marry Bothwell. Twice she refused them, objecting the rumours about Bothwell’s guilt. Twice she refused, but Lethington pointed out that Bothwell had been legally cleared, and, after the Parliament of April, 1567, they signed Ainslie’s band. Yet no list of the signers contains the name of Lethington, though, according to Nau, he urged the marriage. After the marriage, it was Lethington who induced the Lords to rise against Bothwell, with whom he was (as we elsewhere learn) on the worst terms. Lethington it was who brought his friend and kinsman, Atholl, into the rising. At Carberry Hill, Mary wished to parley with Lethington and Atholl, who both excused themselves, as not being in full agreement with the Lords. She therefore yielded toKirkcaldy; and Bothwell, ere she rode away, gave her the murder band (this can hardly be true), signed by Morton, Lethington, Balfour, and others, bidding her keep it carefully. Entrapped by the Lords, Mary, by Lethington’s advice, was imprisoned in the house of the Provost of Edinburgh. Lethington was ‘extremely opposed’ to her, in her dreadful distress; he advised imprisonment in Loch Leven; he even, Randolph says, counselled the Lords to slay her, some said to strangle her, while persuading Throckmorton that he was her best friend. Lethington tried to win her favour in her prison, but, having ‘no assurance from her,’ fled on a false report of her escape. Lethington fought against her at Langside, and Mary knew very well why, though he privately displayed the Casket Letters, he secretly intrigued for her at York. Even his final accession (1569) to her party, and his death in her cause, did not win her forgiveness.
She dated from Carberry Hill her certain knowledge of his guilt in the murder, which she always held in reserve for a favourable opportunity. But, as she neither was allowed to see the Casket Letters, nor to appear in person before the Peers, that opportunity never came.
To conclude this part of the inquiry: Mary’s attitude, as regards the Letters, was less that of conscious innocence, than of a player who has strong cards in her hand and awaits the chance of bringing out her trumps.