An Accidental Tragedy (28 page)

Mary may also have been influenced in this by a small but touching event which she experienced while in Fife, en route to meet Darnley.

At her coming to the Laird of Lundie’s house, who is a grave ancient man, white head and white beard, he knelt down to her and said, ‘Madame, this is your house, and the land belonging to the same, all my goods and gear is yours. These
six boys . . . and myself will wear our bodies in your grace’s service . . . but Madame, one humble petition I would make unto your grace in recompense of this – that your majesty will not have no Mass in this house as long as it pleased your grace to tarry in it.’

His request was granted and ‘he thought himself twice happy to have the queen in his house, and that it should not be polluted with idolatry.’ This was a vivid example of the obedience due – and freely given – by the common people to their sovereign, but not to the sovereign’s religion.

As a continuation of the de-Frenchification of her court, Mary also sent her private secretary, Augustine Raulet, back to France with his wife, who had been mistress of Mary’s household. Raulet is one of the shadowy figures who surrounded Mary. He had been in the service of the Cardinal of Lorraine and had come from France with the royal household, but had risen to hold the keys to Mary’s private safe, and Mary, fearing that her private codes had been compromised, dismissed him. Prior to his departure, his own private papers were seized. He would later return to serve her again.

Mary’s first meeting with Darnley was formal and strictly supervised, and Mary’s first impressions were positive. She told Melville that he was ‘the best proportioned long man that she ever saw’. Ten days later Mary was back in Holyrood, where David Rizzio was now her private secretary and was reputed to be ‘he that works all’, much to the discontent of the Privy Council.

The troublesome Earl of Bothwell had broken his exile and returned to Scotland, muttering insultingly against Mary that she was a ‘Cardinal’s whore’ and that he would never receive favour at her hands. Darnley followed Mary to Edinburgh and attended a sermon by Knox before attending a ball at Holyrood, where he was invited by Moray to dance a galliard with the queen. For the first time in her life Mary danced with a man who was taller than herself, and the prancing display of ‘yonder long lad’ in the galliard delighted her, as did the quieter moments of formal greeting in the dance when she, at last, was able to look up to her
partner. The first move in Darnley’s mating game had been played successfully.

However, the elegance of his carriage and dancing was largely for the benefit of the male courtiers, although Darnley realised that if he married Mary he would, at some time, have to breed, and he was quite prepared to undergo the experience as a somewhat distasteful part of his necessary duty. He had, in fact, no interest in anything but his own personal pleasure, and, like Mary, had no wish to apply himself to the practicalities of government.

In April the court moved to Stirling, where Darnley fell ill with ‘measles’ and was, although kept in isolation, sent ‘reversions’ from Mary’s table. His symptoms seem to have had few similarities with those of measles, and the word was probably used as a euphemism for something more serious. During remissions from ‘measles’, Darnley and Mary played bowls against Randolph and Mary Beaton; Randolph and Beaton won and Darnley paid the debts with a ring and a brooch set with agates ‘worth fifty crowns’. Darnley, supported by his father, Lennox, was spending more than either could afford on his suit. By May, Lennox had run out of money and had to borrow 500 crowns from Lethington. He was not yet confirmed in his repossession of the stronghold of Dumbarton.

Cecil was becoming extremely anxious, and on 28 April he sent Nicholas Throckmorton, formerly the English ambassador to France and known to the Scottish queen, to Edinburgh with a long memorandum, the essence of which was, ‘For pity’s sake, try to find out what’s going on.’ From Stirling, Randolph reported that Mary’s care for Darnley in his illness was causing great disquiet and that Moray was expected shortly to add his voice to the general discontent. This discontent spread to Edinburgh, where a priest was put in the pillory and pelted with eggs. A Catholic mob retaliated, and the Provost interrupted his supper to prevent riot spreading. The priest was clapped in irons in the Tolbooth and Mary was informed. She ordered his release to ‘the great offence of the whole people’, and a Privy Council was called
to meet in Edinburgh and punish the Provost. Moray and Argyll refused to attend.

In London, Elizabeth was now panicking and informed her Privy Council that the Darnley marriage would be ‘unmeet, unprofitable, and perilous to the sincere amity between the two queens’. Throckmorton was instructed to repeat this to Mary and to tell her that she could have the pick of the aristocracy, except Lord Darnley. Cecil added that if she were to marry Leicester, then the question of the succession could be arranged. There was now an open split in Mary’s Privy Council, with Lethington, Atholl, Ruthven, and Rizzio supporting Mary’s decision against Châtelherault, Moray and Argyll, who opposed the marriage. Moray’s vehemence was such that Mary suspected that he ‘would set the crown upon his own head’.

Since the nobility were totally preoccupied with the marriage question, the Border lairds took the opportunity to raid each other. On 3 May, Randolph reported ‘daily slaughter between the Scotts and Elliots – stealing on all hands – justice nowhere’.

Mary’s intransigence was simply the result of her obstinate refusal to accept the advice of her council or to read public opinion. Once she was told that the Darnley marriage was inadvisable she set her mind firmly – and childishly – to overrule everyone. After all, she was the queen, and a queen’s wishes were not to be ignored, but rather to be instantly indulged. To marry Darnley was to thwart Elizabeth’s desires for a greater unity between the nations and to reject the richest suitors in Europe – even the rejected Archduke Charles would have brought her a large chunk of Austria, plus his father’s millions – to pursue a marriage with an unstable, but charming, pauper well below her in rank. To compound matters, on 8 May, Mary had a private audience with Moray and demanded his instant signature to an agreement to the marriage, although since Darnley was not yet twenty-one, he could not yet be granted the crown matrimonial. ‘Hereupon between them rose great altercation, she gave him many sore words.’ She gained agreements to her marriage from Spain and France and sought the
inevitable permission from Rome to marry her cousin. As a result of her own arrogance Mary now ruled a divided kingdom. Most of the nobility had tolerated her waywardness, but all were now forced to choose: for or against the marriage; for or against the queen.

Elizabeth had received reports from Randolph – ‘the queen in her love is transported and Darnley grown so proud that to all honest men he is intolerable’ – and she was putting on a brave face with regards to the proposed marriage. On 3 June, Paul de Foix, a French ambassador, found Elizabeth playing chess. She assured him that Darnley was of no more importance than a pawn on her board. This was bravado, as the following day her Privy Council resolved ‘to establish the succession of both crowns in the issue of the marriage. The papists would devise all means within this realm to disturb the estate of the queen and consequently to achieve their purpose by force.’ It was decided to fortify the frontier – ‘forebearing breach of peace will suffer’ – to put Lady Lennox in ‘some place safe’ – in other words, she went back into the Tower – and to recall both the Earl of Lennox and Darnley. There were even plans to enter Scotland ‘with hostility’ if these moves failed, and once again Elizabeth sent Throckmorton to sound out Mary’s intentions and voice her own grave reservations. Two weeks later Throckmorton arrived at Stirling and, after a considerable amount of unsatisfactory delay, was admitted to Mary’s presence with most of her Privy Council in attendance. He delivered Elizabeth’s objections, which Mary brushed aside, saying that Elizabeth, having objected to any foreign suitors, had given her a free choice of any British nobleman. ‘About this we had sundry disputes,’ reported Throckmorton, and he was dismissed with a fifty-ounce gold chain to add to the plate he had received in August 1561. He afterwards said, ‘I do find this queen so captiv’d either by love or cunning (or rather to say truly, by boasting and folly).’ He added, ‘The queen is so far passed in this matter with Lord Darnley that it is irrevocable and no place left to dissolve it except by violence.’

That Mary now had no intention of listening to anyone at all was made clear when, about an hour after Throckmorton’s departure, she created Darnley Knight of Tarbolton, Lord Ardmannoch, Baron Rothesay and Earl of Ross. Darnley was in a foul temper throughout. His temper arose from the fact that Mary had promised him the dukedom of Albany, a purely royal title, and now withheld it until she heard how Elizabeth reacted to her rejection of Throckmorton’s embassy. When Ruthven told Darnley of the delay, he went mad with petulant fury, launched himself at Ruthven, brandishing a dagger, and had to be physically restrained. After the ceremony the new earl took to his room in a sulk and began drinking himself into unconsciousness.

Mary, having boxed herself into a corner, behaved with more passion towards Darnley ‘than is comely for any mean person’ and ‘all shame is laid aside’. Mary had abandoned all her regal state, her beauty had left her and her ‘cheer and countenance had changed into I know not what’. Admittedly Randolph, the author of these statements, was totally opposed to the marriage, but he does present us with a recognisable picture of a spoilt 22-year-old girl experiencing her first love affair, knowing that she is infatuated with a totally unsuitable man who will alienate all her friends and eventually cause herself serious damage, yet determined to press ahead whatever the cost.

On 9 July 1565, Mary, now in the full knowledge of the damage her actions would cause, married Darnley secretly – with only about seven witnesses – and the couple went to bed in Lord Seton’s house nearby. This was, in fact, no more than a formal betrothal or handfasting, and since Mary was rightly cautious as to public opinion, it probably took place in Rizzio’s apartments in Stirling Castle.

Three days later, on 12 July, Mary did try to ameliorate the situation by issuing another proclamation to prevent the spreading of rumours among ‘the wicked, ungodly and seditious’, assuring her Protestant subjects that her non-interference with the Reformed religion would continue. In concentrating on
reassuring the people about the security of their religion, she showed herself to be unaware of, or simply ignoring, a major point of objection to her alliance with Darnley and the house of Lennox. Any foreign marriage would have antagonised all the countries apart from that of her future husband, but could probably have been made acceptable to the Scottish nobility, if not to Elizabeth. But by marrying the heir to the earldom of Lennox she had, at a stroke, reawakened the bitter rivalry between Lennox and the house of Hamilton, headed by Châtelherault, as well as incurring the hatred of her half-brother and his Stewart line, who would now virtually be removed from the line of succession. None of the lords whose interests in any way conflicted with those of Lennox, and there were many – Argyll, Rothes, Glencairn – could tolerate such a match. Instead of sowing the seeds of discontent in the monarchies of Europe and grave disquiet in London, Mary was blindly preparing the ground for a general domestic uprising.

Religion was also the urgent concern of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland which, on 26 July, besought Mary to suppress the Mass throughout the kingdom. Mary procrastinated, declaring that she would ‘press the conscience of no man’ and hoping that they would not ‘press her to offend her own conscience’. The assembly was not happy with her answer but delayed any further action for the moment, which was all that could be hoped for in the now rapidly deteriorating situation. By 20 July Darnley had finally been created Duke of Albany, and the banns for the marriage were read in St Giles. On the same day, the Bishop of Dunblane arrived in Rome to seek the papal dispensation, but with it or, more likely, without it, the arrangements were made for the couple to marry in a public ceremony on 29 July 1565. The day before, letters patent were sent to the heralds telling them that from henceforth Darnley would be styled the ‘King of this our kingdom’. This action, without the consent of parliament, ‘was a ground for the people to repine, as though it infringed their liberties, to proclaim a king without their consent’. Sally Mapstone, in her essay ‘Scotland’s Stories’, has
said that in Scotland, ‘kingly rule is predicated on the congruence of its interest with those of the political community’. Knox and his colleague Christopher Goodman had preached this philosophy with vigour, even to Mary in person, but the Valois kings held their power to be God-given and Mary followed their example blindly.

The wedding took place in the royal chapel at Holyrood, at the early hour of five in the morning of 29 July 1565, Mary wearing a mourning gown of black with a black hood. This did not signify grief, but the fact that Mary was a widow and dowager queen. Lennox and Atholl took her arms and led her to the altar, then left her there while they brought in Darnley. The ceremony then took place according to the Catholic rite, during which she received three rings, the middle one a ‘rich diamond’. The couple then knelt and prayers were said over them by John Sinclair, Dean of Restalrig and Bishop of Brechin. Darnley did not stay to hear the nuptial Mass, but briefly kissed his wife and left to await her in her chamber. After the Mass, Mary was expected publicly to allow the congregation to undress her and to change her mourning dress for a more festive one to signify a happy life to come, but she curtailed this ceremony and only allowed every man near her to remove a pin from her dress, thus performing enough of the symbolic act. She then retired to her husband.

This was all a very far cry from the lavish ceremony of her marriage to the Dauphin. Neither Moray nor Randolph attended, and although there was dancing and largesse, many people present, including even some of the Maries, dreaded to imagine what the outcome might be. The next day, at nine o’clock in the morning, heralds proclaimed Darnley King of Scotland, and declared that the marriage – which had gone ahead long before the papal authorisation had been received – was fully ‘solemnised and complete’, and also that henceforth all royal correspondence should in the names of ‘both their majesties’. Lennox called out, ‘God save his grace,’ but the rest of the nobility were silent and the country held its breath. Moray,
rather glumly, hoped that the royal couple, being youthful, might be tractable.