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Perhaps of the
paradoxical in politics no more curious example could be found than the
great, almost pre-eminent, part played by Darnley in the events of his
time. His one gift, so to say, was the result of a peculiar combination
of weakness and baseness. Had he been cleverer or greater villain his
career had perhaps been less momentous. It was the inordinateness of his
moral debility rather than of his positive wickedness that made him such
an efficient marplot of the schemes both of Mary and her opponents. To
the assassins of Riccio he proved a dupe and tool of matchless
suitability for their particular purpose; and yet Mary found in him an
equally admirable accomplice in robbing them of the main fruits of their
daring venture. His joint capacity for dupery and treachery was so
inordinately rank that it counted for one of the potent political forces
of the period, and in no small degree assisted in constituting the few
short months which comprehended the assassination of Riccio and his own
tragic death one of the epochs of Scottish history. But fruitful of
great results as had been the unrestrained action of his imbecility,
these were more than matched by the consequences which followed his
"taking off"; for his death proved to be the turning-point in the final
struggle between Catholicism and Protestantism in Great Britain, and has
up till now remained the centre of one of the most burning of historical
controversies. From
the time of his marriage to the Queen of Scots Darnley was almost
foredoomed to calamity, if not assassination. The career of any one who
became Mary's husband was bound to be eventful, but in the case of one
with Darnley's peculiar idiosyncrasies it was necessarily fated to be
short. The causes that made for his assassination thickened with amazing
rapidity. Originally danger threatened him only from the Protestants,
including Moray, who, it has been argued, had already set his ambition
on the Scottish throne; or from the Hamiltons, who had rival claims with
Darnley to the Scottish throne apart from his marriage to the Queen of
Scots; or from nobles such as Argyll, who had an hereditary feud with
his family. With the murder of Riccio and escape of Mary the dangers so
increased that his fate was practically sealed. What might have been the
result had Mary not won him over to flee with her to Dunbar it is
difficult to forecast. Possibly her escape did little to effect ultimate
events, except as they bore on her reputation with posterity. had she
not escaped she might have been saved from entanglement in Darnley's
assassination, and her reputation with posterity as Catholic martyr
might have been un- dimmed. As for Darnley, all that can be said is that
practically he left nothing undone that could compass his own death.
First and foremost he had, as M. Philippson, in his "Histoire du Règne
de Marie Stuart," points out, won for himself the hatred, ''implacable
and mortal," of hi consort Mary Stuart; for besides having been party to
the murder of her most trusted political confidant he had burst her
conspiracy for a Catholic conquest of Great Britain: he had done so
unconsciously indeed, but in such a manner as to render wedlock to him
an intolerable encumbrance. As regards the Protestants, he had shown
that in the character of avowed friend and ally he was much more
dangerous than as open foe. Even nobles such as Morton, who, though
Protestants were "devoted to him by bond of blood," he had hopelessly
estranged by a wanton betrayal of their interests; and diplomatists like
Maitland he had outwitted and ruined by the incalculable peculiarities
of his moral idiocy. To crown all there was the rise to a position of
supreme influence in the councils of the queen of the sinister Bothwell,
whose one, but all-sufficient, objection to Darnley was that he stood in
the way of his ambition. Such in outline were the influences which
worked together to effect Darnley's death. The chief question of
historians has been as to the character of their combination—as to which
were principal and which subordinate.
M. Philippson, in his recent volume, has
propounded the notion that the main contrivers of the Darnley murder
were the leaders of the Protestant nobility, with apparently the
connivance of Cecil; and has assigned as their main motive that ''they
saw in him as Catholic prince a dangerous adversary, not on account of
his personal qualities but of his position as husband of the queen and
father of the future king of Great Britain." The credibility of this
conclusion would have been more apparent had Darnley not at this time
been notoriously and hopelessly estranged from the queen. On account of
the estrangement he had already become and seemed destined to remain a
political cypher, and therefore so far as Protestantism was concerned
his removal from the political arena was at this particular juncture by
no means urgent. Indeed it might even be plausibly contended that to the
Protestants there was meanwhile considerable advantage in allowing
Darnley to remain as husband of the queen. To prolong the quarrel
between them. rather than to bring it to a close would probably have
been the more prudent policy. Hampered as both then were they were
practically powerless to effect much harm to Protestantism. Bishop
Leslie would have had no scruple in ascribing the assassination to more
Protestant zeal had there been the semblance of a reason for doing so;
but in the short narrative included in Mr. Forbes-Leith's "Narratives of
Scottish Catholics (1885) he affirms that it was done at the instance of
Morton, Ruthven, Lindsay, and other assassins of Riccio, and solely in
revenge for the betrayal of their plans to the queen. This is of course
a by no means correct account of the origin of the conspiracy, and
indeed so far as both Morton and Lindsay are concerned it is palpably
the reverse of true, for Morton declined to take part in the
assassination, and Lindsay, who also, like Morton, was a relative of
Darnley, knew nothing of it—as even Lord Herries admitted—and cherished
the deepest resentment towards the supposed murderers. But the bishop's
theory manifests at least his disbelief in the plausibility of such a
theory as that of Mr. Philippson, whose curious speculation indicates a
strangely erroneous conception of the individual idiosyncrasies of the
Scottish nobles. Even had Darnly been at this time the main anxiety of
the Protestant nobility a divorce would have served their purpose quite
as well as assassination; and thus Bishop Leslie clearly saw that if
they were to be saddled with the responsibility of the assassination,
revenge, and revenge alone, must be assigned as the motive. But plainly
the main concern of the Protestant nobility at this time was to
strengthen their position by obtaining the recall of Morton and other
exiled assassins of Riccio. The assent of Bothwell and the queen to
their recall indicates that if the leaders of the Protestant nobility
did favour the assassination of Darnley they did so for the special
benefit of Bothwell if not also of the queen. With their recall there
arose, the danger that the scale of political influence might be turned
against Bothwell and the queen, and it would never have been agreed to
except on the clear understanding of a quid pro quo. That quid pro quo
was undoubtedly riddance from Darnley with a view to the queen's
marriage to Bothwell. It is admitted that the leaders of the Protestant
nobility did agree to a divorce; and the idea of assassination must have
been suggested by considerations more urgent or more vehement than any
that primarily concerned Protestantism. M. Philippson has himself
unconsciously guided his readers to these considerations, and has thus
supplied the best possible refutation of his own theory, by proving that
as early as the Craigmillar conference Bothwell and Mary had determined
in one way or other to be rid of Darnley. Mary, as he conclusively
shows, was passionately attached to Bothwell. The attachment may—as some
deem it necessary to suggest—have had its origin in gratitude; for it
was to him that she chiefly owed recovery of her crown and kingdom after
time murder of Riccio; but the theory that Mary throughout acted from
semi-compulsion or self-interest, while it worsens rather than betters
her case, is entirely opposed to the whole tenor of the evidence.
Moreover, one of the main arguments against time possibility of Mary's
attachment to Bothwell—that he was destitute of personal
attractiveness—can scarcely longer be Persisted in. It never had much
cogency—hardly more indeed than the theory that she was the victim of
Both- well's sorcery—but in any case it seems to be now entirely
refuted, not merely by the statement of the Venetian ambassador
("Calendar of Venetian State Papers") that he was "a young man of
handsome presence," but by the significant testimony of even Bishop
Leslie himself (" Narratives of Scottish Catholics "), that he was
"endowed with great bodily strength and masculine beauty." But be this
as it may, that Mary had already determined to marry him " in spite of
the whole world," is manifest from the fact that immediately after the
Craigmillar conference she began to adopt measures to secure his divorce
from Lady Jean Gordon. It is thus abundantly evident that at the time of
Darnley's assassination riddance from him was a matter of more vital
moment to Bothwell and to Mary than to any one else.
That Maitland was accessory to the murder of
Darnley—if he did not suggest it or the arrangements for it—is more than
probable, for his close confabulations with Bothwell at this particular
time can scarce be explained otherwise; but although he had very good
reasons for detesting Darnley —supposing Darnley were worth more than
mere contempt—he was never supremely devoted to Protestant sin, at least
iii its Scottish form. He had, in fact, long ceased to enjoy the
confidence of the Presbyterians; for some time lie had in addition to
this been on a very doubtful footing with Moray; and by his marriage to
the beautiful Mary Fleming he was linking his fortunes more closely with
those of the queen. His main difficulty no doubt was Bothwell, who, in
addition to his personal unfitness to occupy the great position to which
lie aspired, was his bitter enemy; but he had no choice meanwhile except
submission to Bothwell's ascendancy, and he may also have believed in
the possibility of ultimately frustrating his ambition to obtain the
queen's hand. As to Moray, it is impossible to suppose him entirely
ignorant of the conspiracy, although perhaps he purposely avoided
acquaintance with its methods and details. Apart altogether from Mary's
account of the Craigmillar conference signed by Huntly and Argyll, and
inadmissible as evidence in itself, the chances are that Moray was
perfectly well aware that Darnley's assassination had been purposed. One
who had attained to a position of such prominence and authority among
the Protestant nobility, and whose fortunes were at this time in so
critical a condition, was bound, even for his own safety, to adopt every
precaution to obtain reliable information regarding such an important
move on the political chess-board. Besides, the conspirators had been by
no means reticent as to their intentions. That "something had" was
contemplated against Darnley had even reached the Spanish ambassador in
London. But Moray's opponents—whatever rumours may have been put into
circulation by them—did not directly charge him with anything worse than
neutrality the resolution to avoid entangling himself either in
endeavours to save Darnley or in plans for his murder. Possibly he may
have deemed it best meanwhile to maintain an attitude of masterly
inactivity, and allow Bothwell and the queen full freedom to accomplish
their own ignominy; but there were other manifest reasons to prevent his
interference. Apart from the fact that he had no interest in saving
Darnley's life, he had also to look to his own safety. Bothwell would
have welcomed any excuse for getting rid of him as well as Darnley.
lndeed his chief danger at this time was not from Darnley, but Bothwell.
He had done his best to ruin Bothwell, and he could not suppose that
Bothwell had forgotten it. From Bothwell he could expect nothing more
than mere sufferance. That he was influenced in permitting the
assassination by considerations of immediate advantage, beyond those of
mere personal safety, is, however, out of the question. As matter of
fact, the success of the plot brought to him meanwhile not merely
political extinction, but a great worldly disaster, for Huntly's support
of it—as well as consent to Bothwell's divorce from his sister, Lady
Jean Gordon—had been purchased by promise of restoration to his
forfeited estates then held by Moray. That promise —while it indicates
how deeply the queen was involved in Bothwell's machinations— is
sufficient proof of the small influence which Moray then exercised in
the councils of either. Possibly could Moray have saved Darnley's life
without endangering his own, he might have interfered (there is nothing
to show whether he would or not), but even had lie desired to perform an
act, in that ruthless age, of such exceptional chivalry, he would
probably like Morton—who from motives of kinship, not chivalry, may have
desired to save Darnley—have been pre- eluded from interference by his
knowledge of Darnley's almost phenominal weakness of character. r1i115
was of itself sufficient to frustrate all efforts to save him. Of his
manner of welcoming interference on behalf, Lord Robert Stewart had
unpleasant experience. It entirely coincided with Morton's estimation of
Darnley, that he was sic a bairne that there was naething tauld him but
he would reveal it to the queen again." At Kirk-o-Field Lord Robert
ventured to convey to Darnley an intimation of his danger, and for his
pains was confronted with the queen, when in dread of his life lie
deemed it best to deny having uttered words bearing any resemblance to
those reported to her by Darnley. The fact was that Darnley was his own
worst enemy. Friendship with him had become not merely an impossibility
but a positive danger; and all that can be charged against Moray or
Morton is that they avoided an effort to save him, which, while it would
probably have been ineffectual of its purpose, might have proved fatal
to themselves. While, therefore, there is no reason to suppose that had
the Protestant nobility apprehended deadly peril to themselves or to
Protestantism from Darnley, they would have scrupled even to assassinate
him, they could not have been influenced by such a motive at this
particular time. Protestantism had nothing to do with the murder except
indirectly. Some of the Protestant nobles, from motives of private
interest or considerations of personal safety, were its abettors; others
of them were probably quite content that he "sould be put off by ane way
or other" by assassination if not by divorce, provided they were not
involved in the crime; but its main contrivers—leaving Mary meanwhile
out of account—were those who took the deed iii hand": Bothwell, who of
all the conspirators had immeasurably the most pressing reasons for
getting rid of Darnley; Huntly, who of all others was the noble most
closely leagued with Bothwell, and who was influenced solely by hope of
restoration to his forfeited estates; Sir James Balfour, the provider of
the lodging at Kirk-o-Field, who was then a close partisan of Bothwell,
and quite ready to sell his services for any form of lucre; Argyll, who,
although Protestant of Protestants, had from the beginning been one of
the most strenuous opposers of the queen's marriage to Darnley, with
whose father his rival neighbour, the Earl of Lennox, he had a
hereditary feud; and the Hamiltons, who as near heirs to the Scottish
throne, were personally the most bitter foes of Darnley and his father,
and were prepared to welcome almost any conspiracy that increased the
chances of their own succession. All these as well as Maitland— who had
very good reasons for cherishing a strong personal grudge against
Darnley, and was at the same time anxious to ingratiate himself with the
queen—remained the allies of the queen after her marriage to Bothwell.
Probably to each and all of them the marriage was detestable, and in
their allegiance to her they were therefore influenced either by loyalty
to her person, or by dread of the possible consequences of their crime.
The main difficulty of the question is as to
the part played by Mary. Was she confederate? or how far was she
confederate? Was she one of the main authors of the conspiracy? 1)id she
approve of it? Did she consent to it? Was she an agent in it? Was she a
mere dupe and tool? or was she entirely ignorant of it? That she was in
entire ignorance that Darnley's death had been determined on has ceased
to be maintained except by her more fantastical devotees. Yet is the
position of such artless visionaries less hazy and inconsistent, if more
aloof from contact with reality, than the faltering and paltering pleas
of her more subtle apologists. Mary, it is admitted, did induce Darnley—her
champions or apologists affirm from excess of innocent simplicity—to
take up his residence in the lodging at Kirk-o-Field which the assassins
designed to be his shambles. Her chief motive for choosing the
half-ruinous and isolated dwelling was avowedly a tender regard for his
health, which it was supposed might have been injuriously affected by
the mists and damps that clung round Holy- rood; but yet it would appear
that after the assassination neither resentment nor horror at the
discovery of the base purposes for which she had been utilised, lessened
in the smallest her esteem and affection for the chief assassin. Even M.
Philippson who cannot, however, exculpate Mary from responsibility for
the murder, the more especially as he admits her passionate devotion to
Bothwell—has fallen a prey to a form of this seductive yet suicidal
reasoning. While admitting that Mary knew that the assassination was in
contemplation— and so far from desiring to prevent it, was quite willing
to accept it as a preliminary to her marriage to Bothwell, the chief
assassin—he has the courage to ask his readers to disbelieve that she
designedly placed Darnley in the power of his enemies, and actually
arrives at the conclusion that Darnley was taken to Kirk-o-Field at his
own request. Granted that it was so, the casuistry of the plea is too
refined for modern appreciation ; but the hypothesis, inherently
incredible in itself, is without tangible evidence to support it. For
his remarkable deduction he adduces no better reason than the statement
of Nelson, Damnley's page, that Darnley was taken to Kirk-o-Field
because he declined to go to Craigmillar. But Nelson did not say that
the ruinous and isolated lodging at Kirk.-o-Field was Darnley's special
choice; nor would it have mattered anything if he had said it, for it is
notorious that Darnley had nothing to do with its selection. Moreover
the statement of Thomas Crawford— the retainer and friend of Darnley—which
is also appealed to in support of the same conclusion, is to the effect
that Darnley was willing to go with her wherever she might take him,
even supposing she designed to cut his throat; and that Crawford, who
suspected some evil design, advised Darnley that he should stipulate to
be taken to his own house, apparently Holyrood, and certainly not
Kirk-o-Field, about which Darnley knew nothing whatever until his
arrival in Edinburgh.
But the main difficulty of those who seek to
absolve Mary from the charge of direct or indirect agency in the murder,
is to discover a plausible reason for her sudden desire for Darnley's
companionship, especially in view of the arrangements she had made for
her marriage to Bothwell. If she still contemplated marriage to Bothwell,
the society of Darnley must in the circumstances have been specially
distasteful to her. Unquestionably she would never have chosen it except
from sheer necessity. Al. Philippson suggests that she wished to
frustrate an absurd scheme of Darnley for seizing the government, but
can it be seriously maintained that this gave her the smallest anxiety?
Could the menace to her authority at this particular time from the
pitiful intrigues of Darnley have been deemed more than infinitesimal?
Moreover, if serious and immediate danger was apprehended from him there
was only the more clamant call for his assassination; and does the
explanation therefore not tend to strengthen rather than weaken the
supposition that by enticing him from Glasgow she intended to facilitate
the designs of the assassins? She knew that such designs were
contemplated, and undoubtedly they would rid her of all danger from
Dariiley's intrigues. Why, therefore, trouble about these intrigues, if
the assassins had determined on his death, and if they had resolved to
effect it without her aid?
The only other possible supposition is that
she wished to make a last effort to patch up a reconciliation with him;
but this, as M. Philippson at once recognises, is quite untenable. She
was already too irrevocably committed to Bothwell to dream of going
back, and even if thoughts of compunction and pity had moved her to a
last effort at reconciliation she could scarce suppose that a
reconciliation could be safely effected with Bothwell looking on. But,
besides, we have not been left to mere conjectures as to the extent to
which she might have indulged in such inconsistent and witless vagaries.
A glimpse has been afforded us by Dc Silva, the Spanish ambassador, of
her real attitude at this time towards Darnley, and it completely
disposes of the question of reconciliation. After Darnley's arrival at
Kirk-o-Field, Morette, or Moretta, the ambassador of the Duke of Savoy,
had, according to Dc Silva (the quotation is from the "Calendar of
Spanish State Papers," 1892), "asked the Queen of Scotland whether he
should see the King [Darnley]. She told him he would not, and she did
not think he would be Pleased to see him in consequence of the
secretary's [Riccio's] murder, lie, the secretary, having been a servant
of Morette. The latter knew that the King wished to see him, in order to
give him two horses for the Duke, and the King had even told the Queen
that he wished to see him, whereupon she had replied that Morette had
declined to meet him by reason of the secretary's death." This curious
example of Mary's diplomatic finesse reveals how fresh and vivid was
still her memory of the part played by Darnley in Riccio's murder, and
how deep, heartfelt, and incurable was her alienation from him. Well
might De Silva infer from Morette's "mode of speech" that Morette "was
not favourably disposed towards the Queen" as regards her connection
with Daruley's assassination.
Further evidence of Mary's attitude towards
Darnley is of course afforded by the letters said to have been
discovered in the silver casket; and with the additional testimony to
their genuineness made available by the publication of the "Calendar of
Spanish State Papers" relating to this period of Scottish and English
history, it seems impossible any longer to adduce even a plausible
pretence for excluding them as evidence. In the comparatively mild
language of the editor of the "Calendar," the result of this new
testimony is that the "many arguments against their genuineness founded
upon the long delay in their production disappear." The language is
mild, for the arguments were founded chiefly on suppositions and
assertions ; and there was in fact no evidence of long delay in their
production. But at any rate this additional testimony deprives such
arguments of their last semblance of plausibility. We now know that the
French ambassador was actually furnished with a copy of the letters some
time before the 12th of July, 1567, or within three weeks after the time
when the casket was declared to have fallen into the hands of Morton.
The mere fact that the French ambassador was officially furnished with a
copy of the letters that he might show them to the French Court, is in
itself sufficient to remove any possible shadow of doubt as to the truth
of Morton's declaration that the letters were "sichted," or officially
examined; and the argument that the letters are "under suspicion" from
the mere fact that the casket and its contents remained " for eighteen
months in the hands of Morton " becomes still more devoid of cogency.
The supposed difficulties as to the language in which the letters were
written are also completely disposed of. The ambassador must have
obtained a copy of the original French version of the letters. The
sending of a Scots version of the more important passages of the letters
to Elizabeth—surely not on the face of it an unaccountable procedure if
it be remembered that Scots was the native language of Scotland, and
that in all probability also these were the very identical passages that
were read to the Scottish Parliament in justification of the action
against the queen—has been made much of by certain critics; but however
ingenious or forcible such arguments may have seemed in the past, it can
henceforth avail little to ask why the letters were sent to Elizabeth in
Scots? The procedure may have been stupid or even inexplicable—as some,
to whom one would willingly defer, seem to think ; but henceforth it
will be impossible to argue that it implied deceit or criminality.
Another point also is—as the editor of the '' Calendar " points
out—"that the French ambassador in Loudon knew the purport of the
letters early in July at a time when it was impossible for Moray to have
been informed of their existence." Clearly, therefore, the supposition
that Moray, when at the end of July he gave a description of the long
Glasgow letter, was then simply engaged in the pro- cess of forging it,
and had not yet decided on the precise form it should assume, is no
longer tenable. But more decisive than all is the consideration that it
is no longer possible to suggest that any portion of this letter has
been borrowed from the declaration of Darnley's retainer, Thomas
Crawford. The correspondence between the two documents, however it may
have occurred, can no longer be adduced as an argument that the letter
was forged on the basis of Craw- ford's statement. If the one document
has been based on the other, the only possible conclusion now is that
Crawford "refreshed his recollection by aid of the letter." Thus the
main difficulty to the acceptance of the Glasgow letter as genuine
disappears. It was really the only plausible evidence ever adduced to
support the theory that the letters were forged or "doctored." Latterly
the theory that they were forged throughout has, for more reasons than
can here be stated, been abandoned, but the theory that they were
doctored is in itself much more incredible. "Doctoring" is of course a
suggestive epithet, but to practise "doctoring" of documents is, if not
more difficult, more dangerous than to forge throughout. Indeed, as
usually promulgated, the theory was almost hopelessly involved in
contradictions ; for what advantage could be gained by doctoring
writings of Mary that were already compromising? And if they were not
compromising what was there to prevent Mary exposing the doctoring
process? The chief
value of the long Glasgow letter is not that it more conclusively
establishes Mary's connection with the murder—for apart from it the
circumstantial evidence is overwhelming—but that it more clearly reveals
her motives in consenting to act as confederate of Bothwell, and
contains her best available apology or defence. The mitigating
circumstances of the case are there stated more persuasively than by
those who have deceived themselves by the flattering unction that Mary's
cause is served by the rejection of the letter. It discovers to us that
the real author of the conspiracy was not Mary but Bothwell
that in all probability Mary, as indicated in her version of the
Craigmillar conference, was originally strongly opposed to the murder,
and that she was to a considerable extent the victim of Bothvell's
overmastering purpose. Deeply and irreparably as Darnley had wronged
her, hateful as was the very thought of reunion to him, she declared
that for her ''own particular revenge" she would have been no party to
the murder. Even as it was the despicable part she had to play—more than
pity for Darnley—caused her the keenest anguish. "I will never rejoice,"
so she wrote, "to deceive any one that trusts me" [Would a forger have
been at the pains to reveal this noble trait of character?]; "yet
notwithstanding ye may command inc in all things''; and again, 'Now
seeing' to obey you, my dear love, I spare neither honour, conscience,
hazard nor greatness whatsoever " [How closely the sentiment of this
accords with another declaration of hers recorded by Kirkcaldy of Grange
as to her readiness to follow Bothwell to the world's end!]; "take it, I
pray you, in good part, and not after the interpretation of your false
good brother, to whom I pray you give no credit against the most
faithful lover that ever you had or shall have." But while passionate
love to Bothwell seems to have been what chiefly reconciled her to her
odious task, there was also the overwhelming influence of other
circumstances to incite and nerve her to its performance. Not only had
Darnley by the rankness of his offence incurred her unquenchable
hostility, but he had become an object of general hatred and contempt;
lie was now virtually a political pariah, and murderer as well as
traitor, he had fully earned his death. Moreover, regard must be had to
the genius and temper of the time. The wild justice of revenge had still
a recognised Place in the moral code of the Scottish noble, and the
Darnley murder was only rendered possible by the laxity of prevailing
opinion as to the sacredness of human life. Mary succumbed to that
laxity of opinion in circumstances of peculiar difficulty and
temptation, and while not the less was she responsible for the murder,
it is impossible to believe that in their hearts any of those—except the
Catholics and Darnley's kinsmen—who afterwards took the most pronounced
part against her, appreciably regretted his death. For us the chief
abiding interest of the crime is in the light flashed by it on the
schemes and intrigues of the rude and fierce society of the Scottish
Court. It affords a vivid apocalypse of the passions, hates, and
unscrupulous ambitions that mingled with nobler influences in effecting
the triumph of Protestantism in Scotland. |
