Kitabı oku: «Life of Mary Queen of Scots, Volume 2 (of 2)», sayfa 8

Melville now saw that there was no alternative, and that Lindsay must be called in to his assistance. Notorious for being one of the most passionate men in Scotland, Lindsay burst into the Queen’s presence, with the instruments in his hands, and rage sparkling in his eyes. Mary, for the first time, became agitated, for she recollected the evening of Rizzio’s murder, when Lindsay stood beside the gaunt form of Ruthven, instigating him to the commission of that deed of cruelty. With fearful oaths and imprecations, this unmannered barbarian, entitled to be called a man only because he bore the external form of one, vowed, that unless she subscribed the deeds without delay, he would sign them himself with her blood, and seal them on her heart.¹³² Mary had a bold and masculine spirit; but, trembling under the prospect of immediate destruction, and imagining that she saw Lindsay’s dagger already drawn, she became suddenly pale and motionless, and would have fallen in a swoon, had not a flood of tears afforded her relief. Melville, moved perhaps to contrition by the depth of her misery, whispered in her ear, that instruments signed in captivity could not be considered valid, if she chose to revoke them when she regained her liberty. This suggestion may have had some weight; but almost before she had time to attend to it, Lindsay’s passion again broke forth, and, pointing to the lake which surrounded her confined residence, he swore that it should become her immediate grave, if she hesitated one moment longer. Driven to distraction, and scarcely knowing what she did, Mary seized a pen, and without reading a line of the voluminous writings before her, she affixed her name to each of them, as legibly as her tears would permit. The Commissioners then took their departure, secretly congratulating themselves, that, by a mixture of cunning and ferocity, they had gained their end. Mary, no longer a Queen, was left alone to the desolate solitude of her own gloomy thoughts.¹³³

As soon as Lord Lindsay returned to Edinburgh, and notified the success of his mission, it was determined by Morton and his associates that the Prince should be crowned with as little delay as possible. Sir James Melville, who was considered a moderate man by both parties, was sent to the Lords at Hamilton, to invite their concurrence and presence on the occasion. He was received courteously; but the nobility there would not agree to countenance proceedings which they denounced as treasonable. On the contrary, perceiving the turn which matters were about to take, they retired from Hamilton to Dumbarton, where they prepared for more active opposition. They signed a bond of mutual defence and assistance, in which they declared, that owing to the state of captivity in which the Queen was detained at Loch-Leven, her Majesty’s subjects were prevented from having free access to her, and that it therefore became their duty to endeavour to procure her freedom, by all lawful means, however strong the opposition that might be offered. This bond was signed by many persons of rank and influence, among whom were the Archbishop of St Andrews, the Earls of Argyle and Huntly, and the Lords Ross, Fleming, and Herries.¹³⁴

On the 29th of July 1567, James was publicly crowned at Stirling. He was anointed by Adam, Bishop of Orkney, in the parish church, and the Earl of Morton took the oath of coronation in the Prince’s name, who was little more than a year old. On returning in procession to the Castle, the Earl of Athol carried the crown, Morton the sceptre, Glencairn the sword, and Mar the new made King. All public writs were thenceforth issued, and the government was established, in the name and authority of James VI.¹³⁵ The infant King was in the power of his mother’s deadliest enemies; and of course they resolved that neither her religion nor modes of thinking should be transmitted to her son. Buchanan was appointed his principal tutor, and if early precept can ever counteract natural affection, there is good reason to suppose, that, together with her crown, the filial love of her child was taken from Mary.

Only a few days after the coronation, the Earl of Murray returned to Scotland. He came by the way of London, where he concocted his future measures with Cecil and Elizabeth. He had some difficulty in fixing on the course which would be most expedient for him to pursue. He knew that the regency was about to be offered to him; but he also knew how unlawfully his sister’s abdication had been obtained, and that there was a strong party in Scotland who were still bent on supporting her authority. Were he at once to place himself at the head of a faction which might afterwards turn out to be the weaker of the two, he incurred the risk of falling from his temporary eminence lower than ever. He resolved therefore, with his usual caution, to feel his way before he took any decisive step. Sir James Melville was sent to meet him at Berwick; and from him he learned that even Morton’s Lords had by this time split into two parties, and that while one-half were of opinion that Murray should accept of the regency without delay, and give his approval to all that had been done in his absence, the other, among whom were Mar, Athol, Lethington, Tullibardin, and Grange, prayed him to bear himself gently and humbly towards the Queen, and to get as much into her favour as possible, as her Majesty was of “a clear wit, and princely inclination,” and the time might come when they would all wish her at liberty to rule over them.¹³⁶ Murray, who adopted on this occasion Elizabeth’s favourite maxim, – “Video et taceo,” disclosed his mind to no one, until he ascertained for himself the precise state of affairs, and of public feeling in Scotland.

To be the better informed, he determined on visiting the Queen personally at Loch-Leven. He was accompanied by Athol, Morton, and Lindsay. When Mary saw her brother, a crowd of recollections rushing into her mind, she burst into tears, and it was some time before she could enter into conversation with him. At length she desired that the others would retire, and they had then a long private conference, of which the particulars are not fully known. Mary had flattered herself that she might place some reliance on Murray’s affection and gratitude, but she had egregiously mistaken his character. Having, by this time, secretly resolved to accept the regency at all hazards, his only desire was to impress her with a belief, that he assumed that office principally with the view of saving her from a severer fate, and that he was actually conferring a favour on her by taking her sceptre into his own hands. Reduced already to despair, the Queen listened, with tears in her eyes, to Murray’s representations, and at length became convinced of his sincerity, and thanked him for his promises of protection. Thus the Earl and his friends were able to give out, that Mary confirmed, by word of mouth, what she had formerly signed with her hand, and that she entreated her brother to accept the Government.¹³⁷ Besides, if she were ever restored to the throne, she would not be disposed to treat with severity one who had been artful enough to persuade her, that, in usurping her authority, he was doing her a service.

On the 22d of August 1567, James, Earl of Murray, was proclaimed Regent; and, in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, before the Justice Clerk and others, he took the oaths, and accepted the charge. He first, however, made a long discourse, in which, with overacted humility, he stated his own insufficiency, and expressed a desire that the office had been conferred on some more worthy nobleman.¹³⁸ But his scruples were easily conquered; and, under the title of Regent, he became, in fact, King of Scotland, until James VI. should attain the age of seventeen.¹³⁹ He proceeded to establish himself in his Government by prudent and vigorous measures. He made himself master of the Castles of Edinburgh and Dunbar, and other places of strength; he contrived either to bring over to his own side, or to overawe and keep quiet, most of the Queen’s Lords; and he severely chastised such districts as continued disaffected. A Parliament was summoned in December, at which the imprisoning and dethroning of the Queen were declared lawful, and, what is remarkable, the reason assigned for these measures had never been hinted at before Murray’s return, – that there was certain proof that she was implicated in the murder of Darnley. This proof was stated to consist in certain “private letters, written wholly with the Queen’s own hand.” They were not produced at the time, but will come to be examined more particularly afterwards. All that need be remarked here, is the sudden change introduced by the Regent into the nature of the allegations against Mary. It had been always given out previously, that she was kept in Loch-Leven, because she evinced a determination to be again united to Bothwell; but now, an entirely new and more serious cause was assigned for her detention.¹⁴⁰

CHAPTER VIII.
MARY’S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN, AND THE BATTLE OF LANGSIDE

With few comforts and no enjoyments, Mary remained closely confined in the Castle of Loch-Leven. Her only resources were in herself, and in the religion whose precepts she was ever anxious not only to profess, but to practise. Though deprived of liberty and the delights of a court, she was able to console herself with the reflection, that there is no prison for a soul that puts its trust in its God, and that all the world belongs to one who knows how to despise its vanities. Yet the misfortunes which had overtaken her were enough to appal the stoutest heart. Her husband had been murdered, she herself forced into an unwilling marriage, her kingdom taken from her, her child raised up against her, her honour defamed, and her person insulted, – all within the short space of four months. History records few reverses so sudden and so complete. Many a masculine spirit would have felt its energies give way under so dreadful a change of fortune; and if Mary was able to put in practice the Roman maxim, Ne cedere malis, sed contra audentior ire, it would be to exalt vice and libel virtue to suppose, that she could have been inspired with strength for so arduous a task by aught but her own integrity.

It was not these more serious calamities alone whose load she was doomed to bear; there were many petty annoyances to which she was daily and hourly subject. Margaret Erskine, the Lady of Loch-Leven, and widow of Sir Robert Douglas, who fell at the battle of Pinkie one-and-twenty years before, was a woman of a proud temper and austere disposition. Soured by early disappointment, for, previous to her marriage with Sir Robert, she had been one of the rejected mistresses of James V., she chose to indulge her more malignant nature in continually exalting her illegitimate offspring the Earl of Murray above his lawful Queen, now her prisoner. Her servants, of course, took their tone from their mistress; and there was one in particular, named James Drysdale, who held a place of some authority in her household, and who, having had some concern in the murder of Rizzio, and being a bigoted and unprincipled fanatic, entertained the most deadly hatred against Mary, and had been heard to declare, that it would give him pleasure to plunge a dagger into her heart’s blood. This savage probably succeeded in spreading similar sentiments among the other domestics; and thus the Queen’s very life seemed to hang upon the prejudices and caprices of menials.¹⁴¹

But numerous and violent as Mary’s enemies may have been, few could remain near her person, without becoming ardently attached to her. Hence, throughout all her misfortunes, her own immediate attendants continued more than faithful. At Loch-Leven, it is true, although her rebellious nobles had been willing to allow her a suitable train, the absence of accommodation would have rendered their residence there impossible. One or two female, and three or four male servants, were all, over whom Mary, the Queen of Scotland, and Dowager of France, could now exercise the slightest control. Of these, John Beaton was the individual upon whose assiduity she placed most reliance. But the influence which the fascination of her manners, and the beauty of her person, obtained for her, over two of the younger branches of the House of Loch-Leven, made up for the want of many of her former attendants. The persons alluded to were George Douglas, the youngest son of Lady Douglas, about five-and-twenty years of age, and William Douglas, an orphan youth of sixteen or seventeen, a relative of the family, and resident in the Castle. So forcibly was George Douglas, in particular, impressed with the injustice of Mary’s treatment, that he resolved on sparing no pains till he accomplished her escape; and his friend William, though too young to be of equal service, was not less ardent in the cause.¹⁴² George commenced operations, by informing Mary’s friends in the adjoining districts of Scotland, of the design he had in view, and establishing a communication with them. At his suggestion, Lord Seaton, with a considerable party, arrived secretly in the neighbourhood of Loch-Leven, and held themselves in readiness to receive the Queen as soon as she should be able to find her way across the lake. Nor was it long before Mary made an attempt to join her friends. On the 25th of March 1568, she had a glimpse of liberty so enlivening, that nothing could exceed the bitterness of her disappointment. Suffering as she did, both in health and spirits, she had contracted a habit of spending a considerable part of the morning in bed. On the day referred to, her laundress came into her room before she was up, when Mary, according to a scheme which Douglas had contrived, immediately rose, and resigning her bed to the washer-woman, dressed herself in the habiliments of the latter. With a bundle of clothes in her hand, and a muffler over her face, she went out, and passed down unsuspected to the boat which was waiting to take the laundress across the lake. The men in it belonged to the Castle; but did not imagine any thing was wrong, for some time. At length one of them observing, that Mary was very anxious to keep her face concealed, said in jest, – “Let us see what kind of a looking damsel this is;” and attempted to pull away her muffler. The Queen put up her hands to prevent him, which were immediately observed to be particularly soft and white, and a discovery took place in consequence. Mary, finding it no longer of any use, threw aside her disguise, and, assuming an air of dignity, told the men that she was their Queen, and charged them upon their lives to row her over to the shore. Though surprised and overawed, they resolutely refused to obey, promising, however, that if she would return quietly to the castle, they would not inform Sir William Douglas or his mother that she had ever left it. But they promised more than they were able to perform, for the whole affair was soon known, and George Douglas, together with Beaton and Sempil, two of Mary’s servants, were ordered to leave the island, and took up their residence in the neighbouring village of Kinross.¹⁴³

But neither the Queen nor her friends gave up hope. George Douglas continued indefatigable, though separated from her; and William supplied his place within the Castle, and acted with a degree of cautious and silent enterprise beyond his years. It was probably in reference to what might be done by him, that a small picture was secretly conveyed to Mary, representing the deliverance of the lion by the mouse.¹⁴⁴ Little more than a month elapsed from the failure of the first attempt, before another was adventured, and with better success. On Sunday, the second of May, about seven in the evening, William Douglas, when sitting at supper with the rest of the family, managed to get into his possession the keys of the Castle, which his relation, Sir William, had put down beside his plate on the table. The young man immediately left the room with the prize, and, locking the door of the apartment from without, proceeded to the Queen’s chamber, whom he conducted with all speed, through a little postern gate, to a boat which had been prepared for her reception. One of her maids, of the name of Jane Kennedy, lingered a few moments behind, and as Douglas had locked the postern gate in the interval, she leapt from a window, and rejoined her mistress without injury. Lord Seaton, James Hamilton of Rochbank, and others who were in the neighbourhood, had been informed by a few words which Mary traced with charcoal on one of her handkerchiefs, and contrived to send to them, that she was about to make another effort to escape, and were anxiously watching the arrival of the boat. Nor did they watch in vain. Sir William Douglas and his retainers, were locked up in their own castle; and the Queen, her maid, and young escort, had already put off across the lake. It is said that Douglas, not being accustomed to handle the oar, was making little or no progress, until Mary herself, taking one into her own hands, lent him all the aid in her power. It was not long before they arrived safely at the opposite shore, where Lord Seaton, Hamilton, Douglas, Beaton, and the rest, received the Queen with every demonstration of joyful loyalty. Little time was allowed, however, for congratulations; they mounted her immediately upon horseback, and surrounding her with a strong party, they galloped all night, and having rested only an hour or two at Lord Seaton’s house of Niddry, in West Lothian, they arrived early next forenoon at Hamilton. Mary’s first tumultuous feelings of happiness, on being thus delivered from captivity, can hardly be imagined by those who have never been deprived of the blessing of liberty. It is fair, however, to state, that her happiness was neither selfish nor exclusive; and it deserves to be recorded to her honour, that till the very latest day of her life, she never forgot the services of those who so essentially befriended her on this occasion. She bestowed pensions upon both the Douglases, – the elder of whom, became afterwards a favourite with her son James VI., and the younger is particularly mentioned in Mary’s last will and testament. Nor was the faithful Beaton allowed to go unrewarded.¹⁴⁵

The news that Mary was arrived at Hamilton, and that noblemen and troops were flocking to her from all quarters, was so astounding, that the Regent, who was not many miles off, holding courts of justice at Glasgow, refused at first to credit the report. He would soon, however, (without other evidence) have discovered its truth, from the very visible change which took place even among those whom he had previously considered his best friends. “A strange alteration,” says Keith, “might be discovered in the minds and faces of a great many; some slipped privately away, others sent quietly to beg the Queen’s pardon, and not a few went publicly over to her Majesty.” In this state of matters, Murray was earnestly advised to retire to Stirling, where the young King resided; but he was afraid that his departure from Glasgow might be considered a flight, which would at once have animated his enemies and discouraged his friends. He, therefore, resolved to continue where he was, making every exertion to collect a sufficient force with as little delay as possible. He was not allowed to remain long in suspense regarding Mary’s intentions, for she sent him a message in a day or two, requiring him to surrender his Regency and replace her in her just government; and before the Earls, Bishops, Lords, and others, who had now gathered round her, she solemnly protested, that the instruments she had subscribed at Loch-Leven were all extorted from her by fear. Sir Robert Melville, one of those who, in this new turn of affairs, left Murray’s party for the Queen’s, gave his testimony to the truth of this protest, as he had been a witness of the whole proceeding. The abdication, therefore, was pronounced ipso facto null and void; and Murray having issued a proclamation, in which he refused to surrender the Regency, both parties prepared for immediate hostilities. The principal Lords who had joined the Queen, were Argyle, Huntly, Cassils, Rothes, Montrose, Fleming, Livingston, Seaton, Boyd, Herries, Ross, Maxwell, Ogilvy, and Oliphant. There were, in all, nine Earls, nine Bishops, eighteen Lords, and many Barons and Gentlemen. In a single week, she found herself at the head of an army of 6000 men. Hamilton, not being a place of strength, they determined to march to Dumbarton, and to keep her Majesty there peaceably, until she assembled a Parliament, which should determine on the measures best suited for the safety of the common weal.¹⁴⁶

On Thursday the 13th of May 1568, Murray was informed that the Queen with her troops was on her way from Hamilton to Dumbarton, and would pass near Glasgow. He instantly determined to intercept her on the road; for should she reach Dumbarton, which was then, and had long been in the possession of the Hamiltons, she would be comparatively beyond his reach, and would have time to collect so great a strength, that she might once more chase him out of Scotland. Besides, the loss of a battle, where the army on either side consisted of only a few thousand men, though it might in all probability be fatal to Mary, was not of so much consequence to the Regent. He therefore assembled his troops, which mustered about 4000 strong, on the Green of Glasgow; and being informed that the Queen was marching upon the south side of the Clyde, he crossed that river, and met her at a small village called Langside, on the Water of Cart, about two miles to the south of Glasgow. Mary was anxious to avoid a battle, for she knew that Murray himself possessed no inconsiderable military talent, and that Kircaldy of Grange, the best soldier in Scotland, was with him. But party spirit ran so high, and the Hamiltons and the Lennoxes, in particular, were so much exasperated against each other, that as soon as they came within sight, it was evident that nothing but blows would satisfy them. The main body of the Queen’s army was under the command of the Earl of Argyle; the van was led by Claud Hamilton, second son of the Duke of Chatelherault; and the cavalry was under the conduct of Lord Herries. The Earl of Huntly would have held a conspicuous place in the battle, but he had set off from Hamilton a few days before to collect his followers, and did not return till it was too late. Murray himself commanded his main body, and the Earl of Morton the van; whilst to Grange was intrusted the special charge of riding about over the whole field, and making such alterations in the position of the battle as he deemed requisite.

Nothing now intervened between the two armies but a hill, of which both were anxious to gain possession, the one marching from the east, and the other from the west. It happened, however, that the ascent on the side next Mary’s troops was the steepest, and a stratagem suggested by Grange secured the vantage-ground to the Regent. He ordered every man who was mounted to take up a foot soldier behind him, and ride with all speed to the top of the hill, where they were set down, and instantly formed into line. Argyle was therefore obliged to take his position on a lesser hill, over against that occupied by Murray. A cannonading commenced upon both sides, and continued for about half an hour but without much effect. At length, Argyle led his forces forward, and determined if possible to carry the heights sword in hand. The engagement soon became general, and advantages were obtained upon both sides. The Earl of Morton, who came down the hill to meet Argyle, succeeded in driving back the Queen’s cannoneers and part of her infantry; whilst on the other hand, Lord Herries, making a vigorous charge on Murray’s cavalry, put them to rout. Judiciously abstaining from a long pursuit, he returned to attack some of the enemy’s battalions of foot, but as he was obliged to advance directly up hill, he was unable to make much impression on them. In the meantime, with the view of obtaining more equal ground, Argyle endeavoured to lead his troops round towards the west, and it was to counteract this movement that the most desperate part of the engagement took place. All the forces of both parties were gradually drawn off from their previous positions, and the whole strength of the battle on either side was concentrated upon this new ground. For half an hour the fortune of the day continued doubtful; but at length the Queen’s troops began to waver, and a re-inforcement of two hundred Highlanders, which arrived just at the fortunate moment for Murray, and broke in upon Argyle’s flank, decided the victory. The flight soon afterwards became general; and though the loss of lives on the Queen’s side did not exceed three hundred, a great number of her best officers and soldiers were made prisoners.¹⁴⁷

Mary had taken her station upon a neighbouring eminence to watch the progress of the fight. Her heart beat high with a thousand hopes and fears, for she was either to regain the crown of her forefathers, or to become a fugitive and a wanderer she knew not where. It must have been with emotions of no common kind, that her eye glanced from one part of the field to another; – it must have been with throbbing brow and palpitating heart, that she saw her troops either advance or retreat; and when at length she beheld the goodly array she had led forth in the morning, scattered over the country, and all the Lords who had attended her with pride and loyalty, seeking safety in flight, no wonder if she burst into a passion of tears, and lamented that she had ever been born. But the necessity of the moment fortunately put a check to this overwhelming ebullition of her feelings. With a very small retinue of trusty friends, among whom was the Lord Herries, she was quickly hurried away from the scene of her disasters. She rode off at full speed, taking a southerly direction towards Galloway, because from thence she could secure a passage either by sea or land into England or France. She never stopped or closed her eyes till she reached Dundrennan, an abbey about two miles from Kirkcudbright, and at least sixty from the village of Langside.¹⁴⁸

She remained two days at Dundrennan, and there held several anxious consultations with the few friends, who had either accompanied her in her flight, or who joined her afterwards. Lord Herries, her principal adviser, gave it as his decided opinion, that she ought to sail immediately for France, where she had relations on whose affection she could depend, even though they should not be able to secure her restoration to the throne of Scotland. But Mary could not brook the idea of returning as a fugitive to a country she had left as a Queen; and besides, had she placed herself under the protection of Catholics, she might have exasperated her own subjects, and would certainly have displeased Elizabeth and the people of England. She was disposed also to place some reliance on the assurances of friendship she had lately received from the English Queen. She was well aware of the hollowness of most of Elizabeth’s promises; but in her present extremity, she thought that to cross the sea would be to resign her crown forever. After much hesitation, she finally determined on going into England, and desired Herries to write to Elizabeth’s Warden at Carlisle, to know whether she might proceed thither. Without waiting for an answer, she rode to the coast on Sunday the 16th of May, and with eighteen or twenty persons in her train, embarked in a fishing-boat, and sailed eighteen miles along the shore, till she came to the small harbour of Workington, in Cumberland. Thence she proceeded to the town of Cockermouth, about twenty-six miles from Carlisle. Lord Scroope, the Warden on these frontiers, was at this time in London; but his deputy, a gentleman of the name of Lowther, having sent off an express to the Court, to intimate the arrival of the Queen of Scots, assembled, on his own responsibility, the men of rank and influence in the neighbourhood, and having come out to meet the Queen, conducted her honourably to the Castle of Carlisle, with the assurance, that, until Elizabeth’s pleasure was known, he would protect her from all her enemies.

As soon as the important news reached Elizabeth, that Mary was now within her dominions, and consequently at her disposal, she perceived that the great end of all her intrigues was at length achieved. It was necessary, however, to proceed with caution, for she did not yet know either the precise strength of Mary’s party in Scotland, or the degree of interest which might be taken by France in her future fate. She, therefore, immediately despatched Lord Scroope, and Sir Francis Knollys her Vice-Chamberlain, to Carlisle, with messages of comfort and condolence. Mary, who anxiously waited their arrival, anticipated that they would bring consolatory assurances. Her spirits began to revive, and she was willing to believe that Elizabeth would prove her friendship by deeds, as well as by words. But this delusion was destined to be of only momentary duration.¹⁴⁹