Francis, the young Dauphin, who was much about Mary's own age, was far inferior to her, both in personal appearance and mental endowments. He was of a very weakly const.i.tution; and the energies of his mind seem to have been repressed by the feebleness of his body. But if unable to boast of any distinguishing virtues, he was undegraded by the practice of any vice.

He was amiable, timid, affectionate, and shy. He was aware of his want of physical strength, and feared lest the more robust should make it a subject of ridicule. He appears to have loved Mary with the tenderest affection, being probably anxious to atone to her, by every mark of devotion, for the sacrifice he must have seen she was making in surrendering herself to him, in all the l.u.s.tre of her charms. Yet there is good reason to believe that Mary really loved Francis. They had been playmates from infancy; they had prosecuted all their studies together; and though Francis cared little for the pleasures of society, and rather shunned than encouraged those who wished to pay their court to him, Mary was aware that, for this very reason, he was only the more sincere in his pa.s.sion for her. It was not in Mary's nature to be indifferent to those who evinced affection for her; and if her fondness for Francis were mingled with pity, it has long been a.s.serted, that "pity is akin to love".

On the 24th of April 1558, the nuptials took place. In December the preceding year, a letter from Henry had been laid before the Scotch Parliament, requesting that some persons of rank should be sent over from Scotland as Commissioners to witness the marriage; and in compliance with this desire, the Lord James, Prior of St Andrews, and eight other persons of distinction, arrived at the French Court in March 1558.[16] Their instructions commanded them to guard against French encroachments, upon the rights and privileges of Scottish subjects; and, that no doubt might remain regarding the right of succession to the Scottish throne, they were to obtain from the King of France a ratification of his former promise, to aid and support the Duke of Chatelherault in his claims upon the crown, in case Mary died without issue. They were also to require a declaration to a similar effect from the Queen and Dauphin. All these demands were at once complied with.

It has been alleged, however, that a very gross deceit was practised, upon this occasion, by the French Court. It is said, that though, to satisfy the Scotch Commissioners, all their requests were ostensibly granted, Henry took secret measures to render these grants entirely inefficacious.

Mary, it is a.s.serted, on the 4th of April, signed three papers, in the first of which she made over the kingdom of Scotland in free gift to the King of France, to be enjoyed by him and his heirs, should she die without children; in the second, (lest it might not be deemed expedient to insist upon the first,) she a.s.signed to the King of France the possession of Scotland, after her decease without children, till he should be reimbursed of a million pieces of gold, or any greater sum which he should be found to have expended on her during her residence in France; and, in the third, she protested, that whatever declarations she might subscribe, in compliance with the desire of the Scotch Parliament, touching the lineal succession of her crown, the genuine sense of her mind was contained only in the two preceding papers.[17] If this dishonourable transaction really took place, whilst it cannot involve Mary, a young and inexperienced girl of fifteen, in any serious blame, it certainly reflects the highest discredit both upon Henry and his advisers of the house of Guise. There is good reason, however, to believe, that these instruments, though they unquestionably exist, are forgeries. It was not an uncommon trick in those times, for the Reformers to stir up jealousy against a Catholic sovereign, by alleging, that he had promised away his country to some well known papist. The Prince of Conde, in December 1568, was not aware of the authenticity of any such papers; for, if he had been, he would undoubtedly have mentioned them when he asked Elizabeth's a.s.sistance to establish the Protestant religion in France. On the contrary, he trumps up a ridiculous story, to which no one has ever given any credit, that Mary had ceded her right to the crown of England, in behalf of the King of France's brother, Henry Duke of Anjou. After Mary's death, it was confidently reported, and with equal falsehood, that by her testament she had left England to the King of Spain, unless her son became a Roman Catholic. There is, besides, internal evidence of a striking nature, that these deeds were forgeries.

For its discovery, we are indebted to the industry and research of Goodall.[18]

Some of the provisions in the marriage-contract between Francis and Mary, are sufficiently remarkable to deserve being recorded. The jointure a.s.signed by it to the Queen, provided her husband died King of France, is 60,000 livres, or a greater sum, if a greater had ever been given to a Queen of France. If her husband died only Dauphin, the jointure was to be 30,000 livres. The eldest son of the marriage was to be King of France and Scotland; and if there were no sons, the eldest daughter was to be Queen of Scotland only, with a portion of 400,000 crowns, as a daughter of France,--every younger daughter being allowed 300,000 crowns. Should her husband die, Mary was to be at liberty either to remain in France or return to Scotland, with an a.s.surance that her jointure would be always duly paid her. The Dauphin was to bear the name and t.i.tle of King of Scotland, and enjoy all the privileges of the crown-matrimonial.

The marriage, for which so many preparations had thus been made, was solemnized in the church of Notre Dame, the ceremony being performed by the Cardinal of Bourbon, Archbishop of Rouen. Upon this occasion, the festivities were graced by the presence of all the most ill.u.s.trious personages of the Court of France; and when Francis, taking a ring from his finger, presented it to the Archbishop, who, p.r.o.nouncing the benediction, placed it on the young Queen's finger, the vaulted roof of the Cathedral rung with congratulations, and the mult.i.tude without rent the air with joyful shouts. The spectacle was altogether one of the most imposing which, even in that age of spectacles, had been seen in Paris.

The procession, upon leaving the church, proceeded to the palace of the Archbishop, where a magnificent collation was prepared,--largess, as it moved along, being proclaimed among the people, in the name of the King and Queen of Scots. In the afternoon, the royal party returned to the palace of the Tournelles--Catherine de Medicis and Mary sitting together in the same palanquin, and a Cardinal walking on each side. Henry and Francis followed on horseback, with a long line of princes and princesses in their train. The chronicler of these nuptials is unable to conceal his rapture, when he describes the manner in which the palace had been prepared for their reception. Its whole appearance, he tells us, was "light and beautiful as Elysium." During supper, which was served upon a marble table in the great hall, the King's band of "one hundred gentlemen"

poured forth delicious strains of music. The members of Parliament attended in their robes; and the princes of the blood performed the duty of servitors--the Duke of Guise acting as master of the ceremonies. The banquet being concluded, a series of the most magnificent masks and mummeries, prepared for the occasion, was introduced. In the pageant, twelve artificial horses, of admirable mechanism, covered with cloth of gold, and ridden by the young heirs of n.o.ble houses, attracted deserved attention. They were succeeded by six galleys, which sailed into the hall, each rich as Cleopatra's barge, and bearing on its deck two seats, the one filled by a young cavalier, who, as he advanced, carried off from among the spectators, and gently placed in the vacant chair, the lady of his love. A splendid tournament concluded these rejoicings.

During the whole of these solemnities, every eye was fixed on the youthful Mary; and, inspired by those feelings which beauty seldom fails to excite, every heart offered up prayers for her future welfare and happiness. She was now at that age when feminine loveliness is perhaps most attractive.

It is not to be supposed, indeed, that in her sixteenth year, her charms had ripened into that full-blown maturity which they afterwards attained; but they were, on this account, only the more fascinating. Some have conjectured that Mary's beauty has been extolled far beyond its real merits; and it cannot be denied that many vague and erroneous notions exist regarding it. But that her countenance possessed in a pre-eminent degree the something which const.i.tutes beauty, is sufficiently attested by the unanimous declaration of all cotemporary writers. It is only, however, by carefully gathering together hints scattered here and there, that any accurate idea can be formed of the lineaments of a countenance which has so long ceased to exist, unless in the fancy of the enthusiast. Generally speaking, Mary's features were more Grecian than Roman, though without the insipidity that would have attached to them, had they been exactly regular. Her nose exceeded a little the Grecian proportion in length. Her hair was very nearly of the same colour as James V.'s--dark yellow, or auburn, and, like his, cl.u.s.tered in luxuriant ringlets. Her eyes,--which some writers, misled by the thousand blundering portraits of her scattered everywhere, conceive to have been gray, or blue, or hazel,--were of a chestnut colour,--darker, yet matching well with her auburn hair. Her brow was high, open, and prominent. Her lips were full and expressive, as the lips of the Stuarts generally were; and she had a small dimple in her chin. Her complexion was clear, and very fair, without a great deal of colour in her cheeks. Her mother was a woman of large stature, and Mary was also above the common size. Her person was finely proportioned, and her carriage exceedingly graceful and dignified.[19]

In this description of Mary's personal appearance, we have placed a good deal of reliance on the research and accuracy of Chalmers. It will be observed, that our account differs, in many essential particulars, from that of Robertson, who says--"Mary's hair was black, though, according to the fashion of that age, she frequently wore borrowed locks, and of different colours. Her eyes were a dark gray; her complexion was exquisitely fine; and her hands and arms remarkably delicate, both as to shape and colour. Her stature was of an height that rose to the majestic."

Where Robertson discovered that Mary's hair was black, or her eyes gray, he does not mention. That her eyes were _not_ black, we have the direct testimony of Beal, Clerk to the Privy Council of England, who was ordered by Cecil to be present at the death of the Scottish Queen, and who describes her as having "chestnut-coloured eyes." As to her hair, and her other features, though Melville, in his Memoirs, certainly seems to imply that the former was auburn, yet, as he does not expressly say so, we suspect correct conclusions can be arrived at only by a reference to the best authenticated portraits which have been preserved of Mary. This, however, is far from being a criterion by which opinions should be rashly formed. There are few persons in the whole range of history, likenesses of whom have been more eagerly sought after; and, in proportion to the anxiety manifested to secure originals, has been the temptation to mislead and deceive. Almost all the paintings said to be originals of Mary Queen of Scots, are the impositions of picture-dealers. When the demand for these paintings became general, it was not at all unusual to despatch emissaries over the Continent to pick up every picture, the costume and general appearance of which in the least resembled the Scottish Queen.

During Mary's life, and for some time after her death, the fame of her beauty, and the interest attached to her fortunes, induced numerous ladies of rank, who flattered themselves that they were like her, to have portraits painted in the style then well understood by the phrase _a la Mary Stuart_. There was, in particular, a celebrated Continental beauty of those days--a Countess of Mansfeldt--(we speak on the authority of a living artist of celebrity), who resembled Mary in many particulars, and all whose portraits (nor were they few in number) when they afterwards came into the hands of the picture-dealers, were affirmed to be Maries.

Thus, in the lapse of years, the truth became so involved in uncertainty, that even Robertson, allowing himself to be too hastily misled, has lent his name to the dissemination of error.

Horace Walpole, after having made extensive inquiries on this subject, has recorded, that he never could ascertain the authenticity and originality of any portrait of Mary, except of that in the possession of the Earl of Morton, which was painted when she was at Lochleven. Chalmers, in order to come as near the truth as possible, employed Mr Pailou, an artist of ability, to compare the picture belonging to the Earl of Morton, with two or three other undoubted originals which have been discovered since Walpole wrote. Pailou commenced by sketching the outline of his picture from Lord Morton's original. He then proceeded to the examination of three genuine portraits of Mary, one in the Church of St Andrew in Antwerp, another in the Scotch College at Douay, and a third in the Scotch College at Paris. Neither did he forget the profile heads of Mary struck upon her coins, nor the marble figure representing her on her tomb in Henry VII's Chapel, which Walpole thought a correct likeness. Mr Pailou thus made Lord Morton's picture the basis of his own, but, as he advanced, constantly referred to the others, "till he got the whole adjusted and coloured." Though we cannot exactly approve of thus cooking up a picture from various different sources, and should be inclined to think, that too much was left by such a mode of procedure to the arbitrary taste of the artist, we nevertheless feel satisfied that Mr Pailou has. .h.i.t upon a tolerably accurate likeness. His picture, engraved by Scriven, forms the frontispiece to the second volume of Chalmers's work. The brow, eyes, mouth, and chin, he has given with great success. But the painting is far from being without faults;--the face is a good deal too round and plump, the nose is made slightly aquiline--a decided mistake,--and the neck is much too short, at least so it appears in the engraving.

The portrait of Mary, which forms the frontispiece to the present volume, and on which we place greater reliance than on any with which we are acquainted, is an engraving executed expressly for this work, from an original picture of much merit.[20] It was painted when Mary was in France, by an Italian artist of eminence, who flourished as her cotemporary in the sixteenth century, and whose name is on the canvas. It would have been impossible to say at what precise age it represented Mary, though, from the juvenility of the countenance, it might have been concluded that it was taken a year or two before she became Dauphiness, had not the painter fortunately obviated the difficulty, by inserting immediately after his own signature the date, which is 1556, when she was just fourteen. It is upon this picture that we have chiefly founded our description of Mary's personal appearance. What gives us the greater confidence in its authenticity and accuracy, is, that it very exactly corresponds with two other portraits, believed on good grounds to be originals. This is a strong circ.u.mstance, for it is a very common and just remark, that almost no two likenesses of Mary agree. The paintings to which we allude are, first, one at the seat of Logie Almond, which represents Mary at the same age, but in a religious habit. It gives precisely the same view of the left side of the face as the engraving in this volume does of the right. From the style and other circ.u.mstances, it is very probable, that both pictures were painted by the same artist. The second is in the possession of his Grace the Duke of Hamilton, and is in one of the private apartments at Hamilton palace. It represents Mary at a somewhat more advanced period of life, but the features are quite the same. There is still a third picture, said to be an original, in the collection of the Marquis of Salisbury, at Hatfield House, and which has been engraved for Miss Benger's Memoirs, which very closely resembles our own. To be yet more a.s.sured, we have carefully examined the heads upon Mary's gold and silver coins. Some of these are inaccurate, but they have all a general resemblance to each other. A silver coin, of 1561, and the gold real stamped in 1562, agree minutely with our picture,--a circ.u.mstance which cannot but be considered a strong corroboration of its truth. It is unnecessary to make any apology to the reader for having entered thus minutely upon a subject of so much general interest.[21]

With regard to the a.s.severations of cotemporary writers, as to the effects which Mary's beauty produced, many of them are almost too extravagant to be believed. They prove, nevertheless, that, whatever beauty may be, whether a mere fortunate arrangement of material atoms, or a light suffused upon the face, from the secret and etherial mind, it was a gift which Nature had lavishly bestowed on Mary. A year or two previous to her marriage, when walking in a religious procession, through the streets of Paris, with a lighted torch in her hand, a woman among the crowd was so struck with her appearance, that she could not help stopping her to ask,--"Are you not indeed an angel?" Brantome, with more questionable sincerity, compares her, at the age of fifteen, to the sun at mid-day. He tells us also, that the brother of Francis, afterwards Charles IX., never saw even a picture of Mary, without lingering to gaze upon it, declaring pa.s.sionately, that he looked upon Francis as the happiest man on earth, to possess a creature of so much loveliness. Nay, Brantome even goes the length of a.s.serting, that no man ever saw Mary who did not lose his heart to her. He is pleased, likewise, with some navete, to pay her several high compliments at the expense of her native country. It appears that Mary, amidst all the gaieties of the French Court, had not forgot her early residence at Inchmahome, in the quiet lake of Monteith. Actuated by these recollections and other motives, she delighted to testify her regard for Scotland in various ways; and, among others, by frequently wearing in public the graceful Highland costume. The rich and national Stuart tartan became her exceedingly; and Brantome, who seems to have been greatly puzzled by the novelty of the dress, is nevertheless forced to declare, that when arrayed after "the barbarous fashion of the savages of her country, she appeared a G.o.ddess in a mortal body, and in a most outre and astonishing garb." Mary herself, was so fond of this costume, that she wore it in one of the portraits which were taken of her in France. If she appeared so beautiful thus "_habillee a la sauvage_," exclaims Brantome, "what must she not be in her rich and lovely robes made _a la Francaise, ou l'Espagnole_, or with a bonnet _a l'Italienne_; or in her flowing white dress, contending in vain with the whiteness of her skin!" Even when she sung, and accompanied herself upon the lute, Brantome found occasion to discover a new beauty,--"her soft snowy hand and fingers, fairer than Aurora's." "Ah royaume d'Escosse!" he touchingly adds, "Je croy que, maintenant, vos jours sont encore bien plus courts qu'ils n'estoient, et vos nuits plus longues, puisque vous avez perdu cette Princesse qui vos illuminoit!" The historian, Castelnau, in like manner, p.r.o.nounces Mary "the most beautiful and accomplished of her s.e.x;" and Mezeray tells us, that "Nature had bestowed upon her every thing that is necessary to form a complete beauty;" adding, that "by the study of the liberal arts and sciences, especially painting, music, and poetry, she had so embellished her natural good qualities, that she appeared to be the most amiable Princess in Christendom." On the occasion of her marriage, not only were the brains of all the jewellers, embroiderers, and tailors of Paris put in requisition, but a whole host of French poets felt themselves suddenly inspired. Epithalamiums poured in from all quarters, spiced with flattery of all kinds, few of which have been borne down the stream of time so honourably for their author's abilities as that of Buchanan, who, having long struggled with poverty, had at last risen to independence, under the patronage of Cardinal Lorraine. This poem is well known, but is not more complimentary than that of Joachim du Bellay, who, after comparing Mary to Venus, concludes his song with these lines:--

"Par une chaine a sa langue attachee Hercule a soi les peuple attiroit; Mais celle ci tire ceux qu'elle voit Par une chaine a ses beaux yeux attachee."

Homage, so general, cannot have been entirely misplaced, or very palpably exaggerated.

In Scotland, through the instigation of the Queen Regent, Mary's nuptials, which were far from being agreeable to a numerous party, were celebrated with probably less sincere, and certainly much more homely expressions of pleasure. Orders were sent to the different towns "to make fyres and processions general." Mons-Meg, the celebrated great gun of Edinburgh Castle, was fired once; and there is a charge of ten shillings in the treasurer's accounts of that year paid to certain persons for bringing up the cannon "to be schote, and for the finding and carrying of her bullet after she was schote frae Wardie Muir to the Castel of Edinburgh,"--a distance of about two miles. A play was also enacted, but of what kind it is difficult to say, at the expense of the city of Edinburgh.

CHAPTER V.

MARY THE QUEEN DAUPHINESS, THE QUEEN, AND THE QUEEN DOWAGER OF FRANCE.

Shortly after the espousals, Mary and her husband retired to one of their princely summer residences. Here she unostentatiously discharged the duties of a respectful and attentive wife, in a manner which gained for her the admiration of all who visited them. Delightful as society and amus.e.m.e.nts must at that age have been to her, she readily accommodated herself to the peculiar temper of Francis, and seemed willing, for his sake, to resign all the gaieties of the court.

But the intriguing and restless ambition of her uncles could not allow her to remain long quiet. About this time, Mary Tudor, who had succeeded Edward VI. on the English throne, died; and although the Parliament of that country had declared that the succession rested in her sister Elizabeth, it was thought proper to claim for Mary Stuart a prior right.

The ground upon which they built this claim was the following. Henry VIII.

married for his first wife Catharine of Arragon, widow of his brother Arthur, and by her he had one child, Mary. Pretending after having lived with her eighteen years, that his conscience rebuked him for making his brother's wife the partner of his bed, he procured a divorce from Catharine for the purpose of marrying Anne Boleyn, by whom he had also one daughter, Elizabeth. Growing tired of this new wife, she was sent to the scaffold to make way for Jane Seymour, by whom he had one son, Edward. Of this uxorious monarch's other three wives, it is unnecessary to speak.

Henry had procured from the British Parliament a solemn act, declaring both his daughters illegitimate, and he left his crown to Edward VI., who accordingly succeeded him. Upon Edward's death, the Parliament, rescinding their former act, in order to save the nation from a civil war, called to the throne Henry's eldest daughter Mary,--not, however, without a protest being entered in behalf of the Scotch Queen by her guardians. Upon Mary's death, the opportunity again occurred of pressing the claims of the daughter of James V. The mother of that king, it will be remembered, who married his father James IV., was the eldest daughter of Henry VII., and sister, consequently, of Henry VIII. Henry was, therefore, Mary's maternal grand-uncle; and if his wives, Catharine and Anne Boleyn, were legally divorced, she had certainly a better right to the English Crown than any of their illegitimate offspring. Soon after the accession, however, of Edward VI., the Parliament, complying with the voice of the whole nation, had declared them legitimate; and as Elizabeth now quietly took possession of the throne, and could hardly by any chance have been dispossessed, it was, to say the least, extremely ill-advised to push Mary forward as a rival claimant.

For various reasons, however, this was the policy which the Guises chose to pursue. Nor did they proceed to a.s.sert her right with any particular delicacy or caution. Whenever the Dauphin and his Queen came into public, they were greeted as the King and Queen of England; and the English arms were engraved upon their plate, embroidered upon their scutcheons and banners, and painted on their furniture.[22] Mary's favourite device, also, at this time, was the two crowns of France and Scotland, with the motto, _Aliamque moratur_, meaning that of England. The prediction made by the Duke of Alva, on observing this piece of empty parade, was but too fatally fulfilled,--"That bearing of Mary Stuart's," said he, "will not be easily borne."

About this time Mary seems to have been attacked with the first serious illness which had overtaken her in France. It was not of that acute description which confined her to bed, but was a sort of general debility accompanied with a tendency to frequent fainting. It is mentioned in Forbes's State Papers, that on one occasion, to prevent her from swooning in church, her attendants were glad to bring her wine from the altar.

There were some at the French Court who would have felt little grief had this illness ended fatally, considering how serious a blow Mary's death would have been to the too predominating influence of the House of Guise.

In England, the news would have been particularly agreeable to Elizabeth, whose amba.s.sador at Paris eagerly consoled her with the intelligence that Mary was not expected to be of long continuance. The natural strength of her const.i.tution, however, soon restored her to her former health and spirits.

But it was destined that there was to be another and more unexpected death at the French Court. Henry II., while exhibiting his prowess at a tournament, on the occasion of the marriage of his daughter Elizabeth to Philip of Spain, in July 1559, received a wound in the head from the spear of his antagonist, the Count Montgomery, which, though apparently not of much consequence at first, occasioned his dissolution eight days afterwards. A considerable change immediately took place in the aspect of the Court. The stars of the d.u.c.h.ess de Valentinois, and of the Constable Montmorency, set at once; and that of Catharine de Medicis, though not entirely obscured, shone lower in the horizon. She was now only the second lady in France, Mary Stuart taking the precedence. The Guises reigned along with her, and the House of Bourbon trembled. Catharine, who could bear no superior, more especially one young enough to be her own daughter, could ill disguise her chagrin. As a guardian, however, of her late husband's younger sons, the presumptive heirs to the crown, she was ent.i.tled to maintain her place and authority in the Government. There is a curious little anecdote of her which shows how much the change in her situation was preying on her mind. As she was leaving the Palace of the Tournelles, to accompany Francis to the Louvre, where he was to appear as the new Sovereign, she fell into a reverie, and in traversing the gallery, took a wrong turn, and was entirely separated from her party before she discovered her mistake. She soon overtook them, however, and as they pa.s.sed out, said to Mary,--"Pa.s.s on, Madam, it is now your turn to take precedence." Mary accepted the courtesy, but with becoming delicacy insisted that Catharine should enter the carriage first.[23] There is something more affecting in the change which Henry's death produced in the condition of the venerable Montmorency and his family. He whom three monarchs had loved and respected, who had given dignity to their counsels, and ensured success to their arms, was not considered worthy of remaining in the palace of the feeble and entrammelled Francis. With a princely retinue, he retired honourably to his mansion at Chantilly.

Mary was now at the very height of European grandeur. The Queen of two powerful countries--and the heir-presumptive of a third,--in the flower of her age,--and, from her superior mental endowments, much more worshipped, even in France, than her husband, she affords at this period of her history as striking an example as can be found of the concentration of all the blessings of fortune in one person. She stood unluckily on too high and glorious a pinnacle to be able to retain her position long, consistent with the _vices vitae mortalium_. Whilst she conducted herself with a prudence and propriety altogether remarkable, considering her youth and the susceptibility of her nature, she began to be regarded with suspicion at once by France, England, and Scotland. In France, she was obliged to bear the blame of many instances of bigotry and over-severity in the government of her uncles;--in England, Elizabeth took every opportunity to load with opprobrium a sister Queen, whose descent, birth, station, and accomplishments, were so much superior to her own;--in Scotland, the Reformers, inspired by James Stuart, who, with ulterior views of his own, was contented to act as the tool of Elizabeth, laboured to make it be believed that Mary was an uncompromising and narrow-minded Catholic.

In September 1559, Francis was solemnly crowned at Rheims; and during the remainder of the season, he and Mary, attended by their n.o.bles, made various progresses through the country. In December, Francis, whose health was evidently giving way, went, by the advice of his physicians, to Blois, celebrated for the mildness of its climate. It affords a very vivid idea of the ignorant superst.i.tion of the French peasantry to learn, that on his journey thither, every village through which he pa.s.sed was deserted.

An absurd story had been circulated, and was universally believed, that the nature of Francis's complaints were such, that they could only be cured by the royal patient bathing in the blood of young children. Francis himself, although probably not informed of the cause, observed with pain how he was every where shunned; and, notwithstanding the soothing tenderness of Mary, who accompanied him, is said to have exclaimed to the Cardinal Lorraine, "What have I done to be thus shunned and detested? They fly me; my people abhor me! It is not thus that the French used to receive their King."[24]

Misfortunes, it is said, never come singly. Whilst Mary was performing the part of an affectionate nurse to her husband, she sustained an irretrievable loss in the death of her mother, the Scottish Regent, in June 1560; and in the December following, her husband, Francis, died at Orleans, in the 17th year of his age, and the 17th month of his reign.[25]

Feeling that his exhausted const.i.tution was sinking rapidly, and that his death was at hand, almost the last words he spoke were to testify his affection for Mary, and his sense of her virtues. He earnestly beseeched his mother to treat her as her own daughter, and his brother to look upon her as a sister. He was a prince, says Conaeus, in whom, had he lived, more merit would probably have been discovered than most people suspected.[26] The whole face of things in France was by this event instantly changed again. Francis the Little, as he was contemptuously termed by the French, in opposition to his father Francis the Great, was succeeded by his younger brother, Charles IX. He being still a minor, his mother, Catharine, contrived to get herself appointed his guardian, and thus became once more Queen of France, the n.o.bility, as Chalmers remarks, being more inclined to relish a _real_ minority, than an imaginary _majority_. Catharine's jealousy of Mary Stuart, of course extended itself, with greater justice, to her uncles of Guise. It was now their turn to make way for Montmorency; and the Cardinal of Lorraine, one of the most intriguing statesmen of the age, retired, in no very charitable mood of mind, to his archbishopric at Rheims, where, in a fit of spleen, he declared he would devote himself entirely to religion.

There is something exceedingly nave and amusing in Sir James Melville's account of this "gret changement." "The Queen-mother," says he, "was blyth of the death of King Francis, her son, because she had na guiding of him, but only the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal, his brother, by raisoun that the Queen, our maistress, was their sister's dochter. Sa, the Queen-mother was content to be quit of the government of the house of Guise; and for their cause (sake) she had a great mislyking of our Queen." Of Montmorency, who, as soon as he heard of the illness of Francis, commenced his journey towards the Court, he says,--"The Constable, also chargit to come to the court, looked for na less, and seamed to be seak, making little journees, caried in a horse-litter, drew time sae lang by the way, that the King, in the meantime, died. Then he lap on horsbak and cam freely to the Court and commandit, like a Constable, the men of war that gardit the Croun, by the Duke of Guise commandement, to pack them aff the toune. The Queen-mother was also very glaid of his coming, that by his autority and frendship with the King of Navarre, she mycht the better dryve the house of Guise to the door." Of Mary, who, it may well be supposed, felt this change more than any one, Melville says,--"Our Queen also, seeing her friends in disgrace, and knawing hirself no to be weil liked, left the Court, and was a sorrowful widow when I took my leave at hir, in a gentilman's house, four myle fra Orleans." To this "gentilman's house," or chateau, in the neighbourhood of Orleans, Mary had retired to shed in private those tears, which the death of her husband called forth.

In losing Francis, she had lost the playmate of her childhood, the husband of her youth, and what, by many women, would be considered as serious a loss as either, the rank and t.i.tle of Queen of France. It was here, probably, that she composed those verses to the memory of her deceased husband, which her biographers have so frequently copied, and which are so full of gentle and unaffected feeling.

Mary, however, was at this time a personage of too much importance in the politics and affairs of Europe, to be left long unmolested to the indulgence of that sincere, but commonly temporary, sorrow of a widow of eighteen. New suitors were even now beginning to form hopes of an alliance with her; and two of the earliest in the field were, Don Carlos of Spain, and the King of Navarre. But Mary was determined to listen to no proposals of a matrimonial nature, till she had arranged the plan of her future life. France was no longer for her the country it had once been. Her affectionate father-in-law Henry, and her amiable, though weak, husband Francis, both of whom commanded for her the first rank in the State, were dead; her mother would never visit her more, for her tomb had already been erected at Rheims, and her proud uncles had been banished from the Court.

Mary had too high a spirit, and knew her own superiority too well, to brook for a moment the haughty control of Catharine de Medicis. She felt that not all the blood of all the merchants of Italy, could ever elevate the Queen-Dowager to an equality with one who, as it is said she herself once expressed it, drew her descent from a centinary line of Kings.

Catharine felt this painfully, and the more so, that when Mary once more made her appearance at Court, she perceived, in the words of Miss Benger, that "the charms of her conversation, her graceful address, her captivating accomplishments, had raised the _woman_ above the _Queen_."

In the mean time, by the Reformed party in Scotland, the news of the death of Francis was received with any thing but sorrow. Knox declared triumphantly that "his glory had perished, and that the pride of his stubborn heart had vanished into smoke." The Lord James, her natural brother, was immediately deputed by the Congregation to proceed to France, to ascertain whether the Queen intended returning to her native country, and if she did, to influence her as much as possible in favour of the true gospel and its friends. Nor were the Catholics inactive at this critical juncture. A meeting was held, at which were present the Archbishop of St Andrews, the Bishops of Aberdeen, Murray, and Ross, the Earls of Huntly, Athol, Crawfurd, and Sutherland, and many other persons of distinction, by whom it was determined to send as _their_ amba.s.sador to Mary, John Lesly, afterwards Bishop of Ross, and one of the Queen's staunchest friends, both during her life and after it. He was of course instructed to give her a very different account of the state of matters from that which the Lord James would do. He was to speak to her of the power and influence of the Catholic party; and to contrast their fidelity both to her and to her mother, with the rebellious proceedings of those who supported the covenant.

The Lord James went by the way of England, and Lesly sailed from Aberdeen for Holland. Both made good speed; and Lesly arrived at Vitry in Champagne, where Mary was then residing, only one day before the Prior of St Andrews. He lost no time in gaining admission to the Queen; and though there is little doubt that his views were more sincere and honourable than those of her brother, it is at the same time very questionable whether the advice he gave her was judicious; and it is probably fortunate that Mary's good sense and moderation led her to reject it. Lesly commenced with cautioning her against the crafty speeches which he knew the Lord James was about to make to her, a.s.suring her that his princ.i.p.al object was to insinuate himself into her good graces, to obtain the chief management of affairs, and crush effectually the old religion. The Prior, Lesly a.s.sured her, was not so warm in the cause of the Reformers, from any conviction of its truth, as from his wish to make it a stepping-stone for his own ambition. For these reasons, he advised her to bring with her to Scotland an armed force, and to land at Aberdeen, or some northern port, where the Earl of Huntly and her other friends would join her with a numerous army, at the head of which she might advance towards Edinburgh, and defeat at once the machinations of her enemies. The Queen, in reply to all this, merely desired that Lesly should remain with her till she returned to Scotland, commanding him to write, in the mean time, to the Lords and Prelates who sent him, to inform them of her favourable sentiments towards them, and of her intention to come speedily home.[27]

The day after Lesly's audience, Mary's old friend the Lord James (for it will be remembered, that thirteen years before he had come to France with her, and he had in the interval paid her one or two visits) obtained an interview with his sister. He had every desire to retain the favourable place which he flattered himself he held in her estimation; and, though so rigid a Reformer among his Scottish friends, his conscience does not seem to have prevented him from paying all the court he could to his Catholic Sovereign. In the course of his conversation with her, he carefully avoided every subject which might have been disagreeable to Mary. He beseeched her to believe, that she would not find the remotest occasion for any foreign troops in Scotland, as the whole nation was prepared faithfully to obey her. This a.s.surance was true, as it turned out; but it is not quite certain whether the Prior of St Andrews was thinking, at the time, so much of its truth, as of its being convenient, for various reasons, that Mary should have no standing force, at her command, in her own kingdom. Mary gave to her brother the same general sort of answer that she had previously given to Lesly. At the same time, she was secretly disposed to attribute greater weight to his arguments, and treat him with higher consideration, for a reason which Melville furnishes. It appears that the French n.o.blemen, who, on the conclusion of peace with England had returned from Scotland, had all a.s.sured her, that she would find it most for her interest to a.s.sociate in her councils the leaders of the Reformers,--particularly the Prior himself,--the Earl of Argyle, who had married her natural sister, the Lady Jane Stuart,--and Maitland of Lethington.

It is worthy of notice, that, affairs of state having been discussed, the Prior ventured to speak a word or two for his own interest. He requested that the Earldom of Murray might be conferred on him, and the Queen promised to attend to his request on her return to Scotland. Having thus prudently discharged his commission, the Lord James took his leave, visiting Elizabeth on his way home, as he had already done before pa.s.sing over into France. About the same time, many of the Scotch n.o.bility, in antic.i.p.ation of her speedy return, came to pay their duty to the Queen, and, among them, was the celebrated Earl of Bothwell.[28]

CHAPTER VI.

MARY'S RETURN TO SCOTLAND, AND PREVIOUS NEGOTIATIONS WITH ELIZABETH.

Elizabeth being informed of Mary's intended movements, thought the opportunity a favourable one, for adjusting with her one or two of their mutual disagreements. Mary's refusal to ratify the celebrated treaty of Edinburgh, had particularly galled the English Queen. Most of the essential articles of that treaty had already been carried into effect; and as Francis and Mary had sent their amba.s.sadors into Scotland with full powers, they were bound according to the ordinary laws of diplomacy, to agree to whatever concessions their plenipotentiaries made. But, as Robertson has remarked, Cecil "had proved greatly an overmatch for Monluc." In the sixth article, which was by far the most offensive to the Scottish Queen, he had got the French delegates to consent to a declaration, that Francis and Mary should abstain from using and bearing the t.i.tle and arms of the kingdom of England, not only during the life of Elizabeth, but "_in all times coming_." There was here so palpable a departure from all law and justice, that, if there was ever a case in which a sovereign was justified in refusing to sanction the blunders of his representatives, it was this. Robertson's observations on the point are forcible and correct. "The ratification of this article," says he, "would have been of the most fatal consequence to Mary. The Crown of England was an object worthy of her ambition. Her pretensions to it gave her great dignity and importance in the eyes of all Europe. By many, her t.i.tle was esteemed preferable to that of Elizabeth. Among the English themselves, the Roman Catholics, who formed at that time a numerous and active party, openly espoused this opinion; and even the Protestants, who supported Elizabeth's throne, could not deny the Queen of Scots to be her immediate heir. A proper opportunity to avail herself of all these advantages, could not, in the course of things, be far distant, and many incidents might fall in to bring this opportunity nearer than was expected. In these circ.u.mstances, Mary, by ratifying the article in dispute, would have lost that rank which she had hitherto held among neighbouring princes; the zeal of her adherents must have gradually cooled; and she might have renounced, from that moment, all hopes of ever wearing the English crown."

Mary, therefore, cannot be, in fairness, blamed for her conduct regarding this treaty. But, as has been already said, she allowed herself to be persuaded to a very great imprudence, when she advanced, what she declared to be a present and existing claim on the English Crown. This was an aggravation of the offence, which Elizabeth could never pardon. She determined to retort upon Mary, as efficiently though not quite so directly. She found means to hint to her friends in Scotland, that it would not be disagreeable to her, were the Earl of Arran, eldest son of the Duke of Chatelherault, and, after his father, presumptive heir to the throne, to propose himself to her as a husband. This was accordingly done, and must have touched Mary very closely, especially as she had no children by her husband Francis. But as Elizabeth had never any serious intention of accepting of Arran's proposals, she was resolved upon taking another and much more unjustifiable method of hara.s.sing Mary.

Knowing that she possessed the command of the seas, the English Queen imagined that she had it in her power to prevent, if she chose, Mary's return to her own kingdom. Before granting her, therefore, as in common courtesy she was bound to do, a free pa.s.sage, she determined on seizing the opportunity for again pressing the ratification of the treaty of Edinburgh. With this view, she desired Sir Nicolas Throckmorton, her amba.s.sador at Paris, to wait on the Queen of Scots, ostensibly to congratulate her on her recovery from an attack of ague, but in reality to press this matter upon her attention. The audience which Mary granted to Throckmorton upon this occasion, together with another which she gave him a few weeks afterwards, introduce us to her, for the first time, acting for herself, in her public and important capacity of Queen of Scotland.

All historians unite in expressing their admiration of the talented and dignified manner in which she conducted herself, though only in her nineteenth year. We have fortunately a full account of both conferences, furnished by Sir Nicolas Throckmorton himself, in his letters to the Queen of England.

The amba.s.sador, on his first interview, having expressed Elizabeth's happiness at Mary's recovery, proceeded to renew the demand which had so frequently been made to her regarding the treaty of Edinburgh. Mary, in answer, said, that she begged to thank the Queen her good sister for her congratulations, and though she was not yet in perfect health, she thanked G.o.d for her evident convalescence. As to the treaty of Edinburgh, she begged to postpone giving any final answer in the affair until she had taken the advice of the n.o.bles and estates of her own realm. "For though this matter," she said, "doth touch me princ.i.p.ally, yet doth it also touch the n.o.bles and estates of my realm; and, therefore, it is meet that I use their advice therein. Heretofore they have seemed to be grieved that I should do any thing without them, and now they would be more offended if I should proceed in this matter of myself without their advice." She added, that she intended to return home soon, and that she was about to send an amba.s.sador to Elizabeth, to require of her the common favour of a free pa.s.sage which princes usually ask of each other in such cases. In a spirit of conciliation and sound policy, she concluded with these words. "Though the terms wherein we have stood heretofore have been somewhat hard, yet I trust, that from henceforth we shall accord together as cousins and good neighbours. I mean to retire all the Frenchmen from Scotland who have given jealousy to the Queen my sister, and miscontent to my subjects; so that I will leave nothing undone to satisfy all parties, trusting the Queen my good sister will do the like, and that from henceforth none of my disobedient subjects shall find aid or support at her hands."--Seeing that Mary was not to be moved from the position she had taken regarding this treaty, Throckmorton went on to sound her upon the subject of religion.

His object was to ascertain what course she intended to pursue towards the Scottish Reformers. Mary stated to him distinctly her views upon this important matter, and there was a consistency and moderation in them hardly to have been expected from the niece of the Cardinal of Lorraine, had we not been previously aware of the strength of her superior mind. "I will be plain with you," said she to the amba.s.sador. "The religion which I profess I take to be most acceptable to G.o.d; and indeed, I neither know, nor desire to know, any other. Constancy becometh all people well, but none better than princes, and such as have rule over realms, and especially in matters of religion. I have been brought up in this religion, and who might credit me in any thing if I should show myself light in this case." "I am none of those," she added, "that will change their religion every year; _but I mean to constrain none of my subjects, though I could wish that they were all as I am; and I trust they shall have no support to constrain me_." It will be seen, in the sequel, whether Mary ever deviated for a moment from the principles she here laid down.

Throckmorton ventured to ask, if she did not think many errors had crept into her church, and whether she had ever seriously weighed the arguments in support of the Reformed opinions. "Though I be young, and not well learned," she replied modestly, "yet have I heard this matter oft disputed by my uncle,--my Lord Cardinal, with some that thought they could say somewhat in the matter; and I found no great reason to change my opinion.

But I have oft heard him confess, that great errors have come into the church, and great disorder among the ministers and clergy, of which errors and disorders he wished there might be a reformation." Here this conference concluded.[29]