14

“SOME SUSPICION OF WHAT AFTERWARDS HAPPENED”

MARY INTENDED NOT ONLY TO confront Darnley, but to bring him back to Edinburgh, where she could keep him under her eye. She must, however, have been aware that, in so doing, she was bringing him into the orbit of men who had signed a bond against him, or who had compelling reasons for seeking revenge on him. Yet she also had evidence that he was conspiring against her, and if that were so, she dared not leave him where he was, at the centre of the Lennox power base.

Mary had the ideal pretext for visiting Darnley for, according to Leslie, he had asked her to do so. Leslie also says that Darnley returned to Edinburgh “by the advice of the nobility and the physicians.” It may be that Mary had confided her fears of a conspiracy to her Lords, and that they, having their own secret agenda, urged her to remove the King from Glasgow.

It has often been said that Mary had taken pity on Darnley and genuinely wished for a reconciliation, but this is at variance with the attitude towards him expressed in her letter to Archbishop Beaton and with the other evidence. The time to have taken pity on him was when he had been really ill, but she had now learned that he was getting better.

It has been suggested that Mary wished to bring about a reconciliation, or the semblance of one, in case she became—or already was—pregnant by Bothwell; Darnley could then be passed off as the father, to avoid scandal. This presupposes that Mary and Bothwell were already lovers, of which there is no satisfactory proof, although she had certainly come to rely on him heavily. It will also be shown, in due course, that Mary is unlikely to have conceived, or been expecting, a child at this time. Finally, Mary’s physician must have informed her of the true nature of Darnley’s disease; it is hardly likely that she would have wished to resume marital relations with him now, at such risk to herself, and there was no telling how long it would be before he was cured.

The most serious accusation that has been levelled against Mary is that, at Bothwell’s urging, she deliberately lured Darnley to Edinburgh to meet his death. Yet the evidence shows that she had already refused on several occasions to sanction any plot against him. Darnley certainly posed a danger to her, and she had every reason for wishing to be rid of him, but she would have had to be a duplicitous character indeed to have consistently rejected all suggestions of assassination, and to have sent her own doctor to him, had she been secretly planning to have him murdered. After all, Bothwell, whom her enemies later claimed had incited her to bring Darnley to Edinburgh, was the same man who had allegedly asked her to sign a warrant authorising Darnley’s removal, which she had refused to do. She is hardly likely to have been so inconsistent.

Furthermore, in bringing Darnley to Edinburgh, Mary may have reasoned that she could protect him from those who meant him ill. The last thing she wanted at this time was a scandal that might prejudice the imminent negotiations with England. Without Darnley, her claim to the English throne would have been considerably weakened in the eyes of many of Elizabeth’s subjects. She therefore had every reason to keep him alive. It was also imperative that she and he appeared to be on good terms, for the English would not want a queen to whom scandal had been constantly attached, and the very public breakdown of her marriage did not augur well for the future stability of either kingdom. As will be seen, she herself is said to have stated that she intended a reconciliation.

Probably unwittingly, therefore, Mary played straight into the hands of Bothwell, Maitland, Douglas and—almost certainly—Moray. Escorted by Bothwell, Huntly and a party of mounted arquebusiers. Mary left Edinburgh on 20 January for Glasgow;¹she took with her a horse-litter for conveying her sick husband back to Edinburgh. On the way, she stayed one night with Lord Livingston at Callendar House, and probably sent a summons from there to the Hamiltons to escort her to Glasgow, for, on the 21st, Bothwell and Huntly had to return to Edinburgh;²Bothwell had pressing business to attend to in the Borders. The fact that Mary summoned the Hamiltons, who were—as Buchanan correctly pointed out—deadly enemies of the Lennoxes, shows that she had not come to Glasgow in the spirit of reconciliation.

Paris was among those in attendance on Mary; according to his later deposition, which should not be regarded as reliable evidence since it was almost certainly obtained under torture, he carried letters and messages between the Queen and Bothwell at this time.

Archbishop Hamilton,³Sir James Hamilton, the Laird of Luss and about forty other gentlemen gathered and, on 22 January,⁴accompanied Mary into Glasgow. Lennox was conspicuous by his absence from the reception party, but had sent Darnley’s gentleman, Captain Thomas Crawford of Jordanhill, a staunch Lennox man, to show her cause why he came not to meet her himself, praying Her Grace not to think it was either for stout stomach [pride] or for not knowing his duty towards Her Highness, but only for want of health, and also that he would not presume to come in her presence until he knew farther her mind, because of the sharp words that she had spoken of him to Robert Cunningham, his servant, in Stirling, whereby he thought he was in Her Majesty’s displeasure.

Mary answered “that there was no recipe against fear.” Crawford replied “that My Lord had no fear for anything he knew in himself, but only of the cold and unkindly words she had spoken to his servant.” Mary retorted that “he would not be afraid [if] he were not culpable,” whereupon Crawford said he “knew so far of His Lordship that there was nothing he desired more than the secrets of every creature’s heart were written in their face.” Clearly angered, Mary asked him if he had any further commission, and when he said no, curtly commanded him to hold his peace.⁵

Glasgow, which lies on the banks of the River Clyde, was then a small city with a cathedral dating from 1175, a famous university that had been founded in 1451, and a concentration of houses, gardens and orchards. Another prominent building was Lennox Castle at Stable Green, which occupied the site of the present Glasgow Royal Infirmary. Since Darnley and his father were both lying ill in the castle, Mary appears to have lodged either in the episcopal palace, which had been unoccupied since 1560, when Archbishop Beaton had been sent as Scotland’s ambassador to Paris, or at Crookston Castle, another Lennox stronghold, standing high above the city, which had a central tower and moat and dated from the fifteenth century. It is also claimed that Mary stayed at the Provand’s House, or “Lordship,” Glasgow’s oldest surviving mediaeval house, dating from 1471, but that seems less likely. Wherever it was the Queen lodged, she was guarded by the Hamiltons and her arquebusiers.

On 22 January, du Croc had left Edinburgh for Paris. With him, he took Mary’s letter for Archbishop Beaton, and “some suspicion of what afterwards happened”; later, he claimed he had not been “ignorant of the Lord Darnley’s death to draw nigh.”⁶There is no way of knowing how he came to have these suspicions, and he may have seen some remarks or events as significant only with the benefit of hindsight.

Mary did not visit Darnley on the day she arrived in Glasgow because “he was in so bad a state with the eruptions on his face that he begged her not to see him till he was somewhat better, to which she agreed.”⁷The next day, he changed his mind and agreed to receive her.

Mary’s interviews with Darnley on 23 January and the following days were recorded both in Casket Letter II and by Thomas Crawford, who claimed that Darnley afterwards told him what had transpired and asked him to report it to Lennox. There is evidence, however, that Crawford’s Deposition of 1568 was constructed from Casket Letter II, as there are remarkable similarities between them, and some passages appear to have been copied word for word, one of them 300 words long, which is too much to be coincidental. It may be that Crawford wrote a report at the time and later, at the instance of the Privy Council, improved on it, or amended it, by referring to Casket Letter II.

The Deposition exists in its draft form, with numerous corrections and alterations,⁸and a doctored version was presented as evidence to the English Commissioners in 1568.⁹Because it was produced for propaganda purposes, it should be treated with caution. Some historians believe that the Deposition is a complete forgery but, if so, why does it not refer to Darnley’s jealousy of Bothwell? On the contrary, it reflects fairly accurately the tensions between Mary and Darnley.

On the 23rd, Darnley was in a truculent but apparently contrite mood. According to Crawford, after a short conversation, Mary demanded of him why he had complained in his letters “of the cruelty of some. He answered that he complained not without cause, as he believed she would grant herself, when she was well advised.” When she inquired about his sickness, he accused her of being the cause of it, adding, You asked me what I meant by the cruelty contained in my letters; it is of you only, that will not accept my offers and repentance. I confess that I have failed in some things, and such like greater faults have been made to you sundry times, which you have forgiven. I am but young, and you will say you have forgiven me sundry times. May not a man of my age, for lack of counsel, of which I am very destitute, fall twice or thrice, and yet repent himself and be chastised by experience. If I have made any fail, I crave your pardon and protest that I shall never fail again. I desire no other thing but that we may be together as husband and wife, and, if you will not consent hereto, I desire never to rise forth of this bed. Therefore, I pray you, give me an answer hereunto. God knoweth how I am punished for making my god of you and for having no other thought but on you. And if at any time I offend you, you are the cause for it. When any offendeth me, if for my refuge I might disclose my heart to you, I would speak it to no other; but when anything is spoken to me, and you and I not being as husband and wife ought to be, necessity compelleth me to keep it in my breast, and bringeth me in such melancholy as you see I am.

Illness, it appeared, had wrought a great change in Darnley, but Mary was unsure that it was genuine. She asked him, out of the blue, “why he would have passed away with the English ship. He answered that he had spoken with the Englishman, but not of mind to go away with him, and if he had, it had not been without cause, in respect of the manner how he was used, for he had [money] neither to sustain himself nor his servants, and need not to make further discourse thereof, for she knew it as well as he.

“Then she asked him the purpose of Hiegait. He answered that it was told him. She required how and by whom it was told him. He answered that the Laird of Minto told him that there was a letter presented to her in Craigmillar, made by her own advice and subscribed by certain others, who desired her to subscribe the same, which she refused to do.” Clearly, Darnley was well informed, although the facts had become somewhat garbled in the telling. He assured her that “he would never trust that she, who was his own proper flesh, would do him any evil, and if any other would do it, they should buy it dear, except they took him sleeping, albeit he suspected nobody. So he desired her effectuously that she would bear him company, for she found ever some ado to draw herself from him to her own lodging, and would never remain with him past two hours together at once.”

It appears Mary was having trouble believing Darnley’s protestations of loyalty and devotion, for he had not satisfactorily explained away the allegations of Walker, but had harped on the conspiracy against himself; she remained “very pensive, whereat he found fault.” Then abruptly, he said he had heard she had brought a litter with her. She told him she intended to take him back to Edinburgh with her but she had understood that he was not able to ride a horse, so she had brought the litter to have him carried “more softly.” Darnley answered “that it was not meet for a sick man to travel that could not sit on a horse, and especially in so cold weather.” Mary told him that she was taking him to convalesce at Craigmillar, “where she might be with him and not far from her son.” He had little choice in the matter, so he told her that he would go, but only on one condition: “that was, that he and she might be together at bed and board as husband and wife, and that she should leave him no more. And if she would promise him it, upon her word, he would go with her where she pleased, without respect of any danger or sickness wherein he was. And if she would not grant him the same, he would not go with her in no wise.”

Mary replied that it was for that that she had come, “and if she had not been minded thereto, she had not come so far to fetch him, and so she granted his desire, and promised him that it should be as he had spoken, and thereupon gave him her hand and faith of her body that she would love him and use him as her husband.” Then caution overrode her, and she insisted that, “notwithstanding, before they could be together, he must be purged and cleansed of his sickness, which she trusted should be shortly, for she minded to give him the bath at Craigmillar.”

Darnley said “he would do whatsoever she would he do, and would love all that she loved,” but “she required him in especial whom he loved of the nobility and whom he hated. He answered that he hated no man, and loved all alike well. She asked him how he liked the Lady Reres, and if he were angry with her.” (This seems to have been a later interpolation, inserted after Buchanan’s libel naming Lady Reres as Bothwell’s procuress had become officially received wisdom.) Darnley merely said “he had little mind of such as she was, and wished of God that she might serve her to her honour.”

Then Mary “desired him that he would keep to himself the promise between him and her, and declare it to nobody, for peradventure the Lords would not think good of their sudden agreement, considering he and they were at some words before.” Darnley said “he knew no cause why they should mislike of it, and desired her that she would not move any of them against him, like as he would persuade not against her, and that they would work both in one mind, otherwise it might turn to greater inconvenience to them both.” Mary replied that “she never sought any way by him, but he was in the fault himself. He answered again that his faults were published, and that there were [those] that made greater faults than ever he made that [he] believed were unknown, and yet they would speak of great and small.” Mary asked him “if he might be ready to travel at that time,” but his answer is unrecorded.

Several things emerge from this conversation. Firstly, Mary had achieved her stated purpose, which was to persuade Darnley to come to Edinburgh and, although she was uncomfortable in his company, to arrive at a better understanding with him. This is corroborated by a report by a French agent, the Seigneur de Clernault,¹⁰who stated that entire confidence had been restored between the King and Queen, and by Lennox,¹¹Leslie and Nau. It was not out of character for Mary to show such forgiveness to Darnley, since she had done so to the Lords who had been involved in the Chaseabout Raid and the murder of Rizzio. Secondly, her doubts about Darnley’s loyalty were unresolved. Thirdly, he was aware that, in leaving Glasgow and the protection of the Lennox affinity, which was certainly against his father’s wishes,¹²he might be putting himself in danger. Fourthly, he had almost certainly not been honest with her about his plans for the future; he had meekly agreed to return with her and shown himself unusually trusting of Mary to protect him. Either it suited him to go to Edinburgh, because there he would be better placed to bring his schemes to fruition; or Mary’s promise of a resumption of sexual relations heralded, in his mind, his return to power. Lastly, Mary feared the Lords finding out about her reconciliation with Darnley; given their hatred of him, they would be reluctant to accept his restoration to favour and influence, and this might be all that was needed to precipitate the carrying out of their plan to do away with him. It was perhaps not so much for his health as for his own safety that she chose to house him initially at Craigmillar. Given time, and his improved behaviour, his enemies might grow to tolerate him.

After Mary had left, Darnley asked Crawford what he thought of his journeying to Edinburgh. “I answered that I liked it not, because she took him to Craigmillar; for if she had desired him with herself, or to have had his company, she would have taken him to his own house in Edinburgh, where she might more easily visit him than to travel two miles out of the town. Therefore, my opinion was that she took him away more like a prisoner than her husband.” Darnley said “that he thought little less himself, and found himself indeed [a prisoner], save the confidence he had in her promise only; notwithstanding, he would go with her, and put himself in her hands, though she should cut his throat, and besought God to have mercy on them both.” This passage seems all too contrived: Mary’s detractors from Buchanan down have often concluded that she planned to lure Darnley to Craigmillar so that he could be murdered there, and that he feared just this because his enemies had plotted against him there, but in fact the choice of Craigmillar would have been a sensible one, not only because of the healthier air and greater security, but also because Prince James was at Holyrood and Mary did not wish to expose him to any risk of infection.

Mary’s enemies later claimed that, while she was at Glasgow, she wrote Casket Letter II to Bothwell. This is by far the longest, most compromising and most controversial of the Casket Letters, and it seems to have been written during at least two sittings, the first of which was allegedly on 23 January. The composition of the letter suggests that it was an amalgamation of two letters—not necessarily by the same writer—since the tone becomes more emotional and conscience-stricken halfway through and there are unnecessary repetitions. One of these letters was almost certainly a report written by Mary to Moray, Maitland or Bothwell on her interview with Darnley, and the other either a more personal letter to Bothwell—which would be most damning—or a complete forgery. There is no greeting, of course, but Moray’s Journal¹³states that at this time Mary was writing letters to Bothwell; and Paris, in his second deposition, claimed that he delivered this letter to Bothwell and carried back an answer the next day, which cannot have reached her before she left Glasgow. Casket Letter II cannot have been written in its entirety to Maitland or Moray because in it they are referred to in the third person. The 3,132-word letter is here quoted at length because of its crucial importance, and the abridged text is as follows:¹⁴

Being gone from the place where I had left my heart, it may be easily judged what my countenance was, considering what the body [is] without [the] heart, which was cause that till dinner I had used little talk, neither would anybody venture [to] advance himself thereunto, thinking that it was not good so to do.

There follows the passage recounting Mary’s exchange with Crawford and other events relating to her arrival in Glasgow. She adds:

Not one of the town is come to speak with me, which maketh me to think that they be his [Lennox’s], and they so speaketh well of them [the Lennoxes], at least his son.

The King sent for Joachim [Paris] and asked him why I did not lodge nigh to him, and that he would rise sooner, and why I came, whether it were for any good appointment that he came, and whether I had not taken Paris and Gilbert to write, and that I sent Joseph [Lutini]. I wonder who hath told him so much, even of the [coming] marriage of Bastien [Pagez]. This bearer shall tell you more upon that.

This suggests that Darnley had at least one spy at court, and it has been argued that this was Sir James Balfour, which is quite possible. The reference to Bastien’s wedding has been seen as sinister, for it was on the night after that wedding that Darnley was murdered. The implication is perhaps that Mary feared Darnley might find out what she and Bothwell had planned for that night, but that is improbable, for at this time the intention was to take him to Craigmillar, not Kirk o’Field, and it is clear that the gunpowder plot was not decided upon until after Darnley had gone to Kirk o’Field. An alternative theory is that Darnley was hoping to use Bastien’s wedding as cover for his own treacherous plans, but he could not, at this stage, have predicted Mary’s movements on that day. Mary’s reference to the wedding is therefore probably innocuous, and merely illustrates her concern that Darnley was so well informed.

The next section of the letter reports the conversation that Crawford recorded, and it will be seen that the two passages have great similarity, although the account in Casket Letter II is more detailed in parts.

I asked him [Darnley] of his letters and where he did complain of the cruelty of some of them. He said that he did dream, and that he was so glad to see me that he thought he should die; indeed, that he has found fault with me that I was pensive.¹⁵

I went my way to sup. He [Darnley] prayed me to come again, which I did, and he told me his grief, and that he would make no testament but leave all unto me, and that I was the cause of his sickness for the sorrow he had, that I was so strange unto him. “And [said he] you asked what I meant in my letter to speak of cruelty. It was of your cruelty, who will not accept my offers and repentance. I avow that I have done amiss, but not that [which] I have also always disavowed, and so have many other of your subjects done, and you have well pardoned them. I am young. You will say that you have also pardoned me in my time and that I return to my fault. May not a man of my age, for want of counsel, fail twice or thrice and at the last repent and rebuke himself by his experience? If I may obtain this pardon, I protest I will not make fault again. And I ask nothing but that we may be at bed and table together as husband and wife; and if you will not, I will never rise from this bed. I pray you tell me your resolution hereof. God knoweth that I am punished for having made my god of you and had no other mind but of you. And when I offend you sometime, you are cause thereof: for if I thought, when anybody doth any wrong to me, that I might for my resource make my moan thereof unto you, I would open it to no other. But when I hear anything, being not familiar with you, I must keep it in my mind, and that troubleth my wit for anger.”¹⁶

I did still answer him, but that I shall be too long. In the end, I asked him whether he would go in the English ship. He doth disavow it and sweareth so, and confesseth to have spoken to the men.

Afterwards, I asked him of the inquisition of Hiegait. He denied it till I told him the very words, [then he said] that it was said that some of the Council had brought me a letter to sign to put him in prison and to kill him if he did resist, and that he asked this of Minto himself, who said unto him that he thought it was true. I will talk with him tomorrow upon that point. The rest as Willie Hiegait hath confessed, but it was the next day that he came hither.

In the end, he desired much that I should lodge in his lodging. I have refused it. I have told him that he must be purged, and that could not be done here. He said unto me, “I have heard say that you have brought the litter, but I would rather have gone with yourself.” I told him that I would myself bring him to Craigmillar, that the physicians and I also might cure him without being far from my son. He said that he was ready when I would, so as I would assure him of his request.

He hath no desire to be seen, and waxeth angry when I speak to him of Walker, and saith that he will pluck his ears from his head and that he lieth. For I asked him before of that and what cause he had to complain of some of the Lords and to threaten them. He denieth it and saith that he had already prayed them to think no such matter of him. As for myself, he would rather lose his life than do me the least displeasure, and then used so many kinds of flatteries so coldly and wisely as you would marvel at. I had forgotten that he said that he could not mistrust me for Hiegait’s word, for he could not believe that his own flesh (which was myself) would do him any hurt; and indeed it was said that I refused to have him to subscribe the same.¹⁷But for the others he would at least sell his life dear enough, but that he did suspect nobody, nor would, but love all that I did love.

He would not let me go, but would have me to watch with him. I made as though I thought all to be true, and that I would think about it, and have excused myself from sitting up with him this night, for he saith that he sleepeth not. You have never heard him speak better nor more humbly, and if I had not proof of his heart to be as wax, and that mine were not as a diamond, no stroke but coming from your hand would make me but to have pity on him. But fear not, for the place [i.e., her love or loyalty] shall continue till death. Remember also, in recompense thereof, not to suffer yours to be won by that false race [probably the Countess Jean] that would do no less to yourself. I think they [Darnley and Jean] have been at school together.

He has always the tears in his eye. He saluteth every man, even to the meanest, and maketh much of them that they may take pity of him. His father has bled this day at the nose and at the mouth—guess what token that is. I have not seen him: he is in his chamber. The King is so desirous that I should give him meat with my own hands, but trust you no more there where you are than I do here.

In sixteenth-century France, bleeding from the nose was believed to indicate fear. Lennox was certainly fearful of Mary, and with good reason, for if Darnley’s conspiracy were to be discovered, there would be no mercy for either of them.

This is my first day.¹⁸I will end [the letter] tomorrow. I write all, how little consequence soever it be, to the end that you may take of the whole that shall be best for you to judge. I do here a work that I hate much, but I had begun it this morning.¹⁹Had you not list to laugh, to see me so trimly make a lie, at the least dissemble, and to mingle truth therewith.

He hath almost told me all on the Bishop’s behalf, and of Sutherland, without touching any word unto him of that which you had told me, but only by much flattering him and praying him, and by my complaining of the Bishop, I have taken the worms out of his nose. You have heard the rest.

“The Bishop” may refer to the Nuncio, Mondovi, with whom there is reason to believe Darnley may have been in contact. The fact that he is not named implies that Bothwell and Mary were already aware of his dealings with Darnley, but it may be that the messenger had instructions to give Bothwell a verbal account of Darnley’s dealings with him, as confessed to Mary, which is suggested by the last sentence in the paragraph. Sutherland was a staunch Catholic, and was perhaps one of Darnley’s supporters, although there is no evidence that Mary took any reprisals against him for it. The sentence “I have taken the worms out of his nose” means “I have drawn it all out of him,” and is a French colloquialism that appears in another letter of Mary’s, dated 5 October 1568.²⁰

We are tied by two false races [Lennoxes and Gordons]. The good Devil²¹ sunder us, and God knit us together for ever for the most faithful couple that ever He did knit together. This is my faith: I will die in it.

Excuse it if I write ill. You must guess the one half I cannot do withal, for I am ill at ease, and glad to write unto you when other folk be asleep, seeing that I cannot do as they do [i.e., sleep], according to my desire, that is, between your arms, my dear life, whom I beseech God to preserve from all ill, and send you good rest as I go to seek mine, till tomorrow in the morning that will end my note.²²But it grieveth me that it should let [prevent] me from writing unto you of news of myself, so much I have to write.

Send me word what you have determined hereupon, that we may know the one the other’s mind for marring of anything.

I am weary, and am going to sleep, and yet I cannot forbear scribbling so long as there is any paper. Cursed be this pocky fellow [Darnley] that troubleth me thus much, for I had a pleasanter matter to discourse unto you, but for him. He is not much the worse, but he is ill arrayed.²³I thought I should have been killed with his breath, for it is worse than your uncle’s breath, and yet I was sat no nearer to him than in a chair by his bolster,²⁴and he lieth at the further side of the bed.

The reference to “your uncle” has been seen as proof that this part of the letter was not addressed to Bothwell, since he did not have an uncle as such; however, the writer may be referring to his great-uncle, the promiscuous Bishop of Moray, who may have been syphilitic, which would perhaps account for his foul breath. Furthermore, this part of the letter is written in more emotional language than the section in which Mary gives an account of her interview with Darnley, and is not likely to have formed part of the report. This reference to “your uncle” is not the only example of the forger’s carelessness, as will be seen.

The first section of the letter appears to end at this point, and there follows a list of subjects that the writer has obviously intended as an aide-mémoire, to remind her to include them in the letter. They read:

The message of the father, by the way.
The talk of Sir James Hamilton [surname deleted] of the ambassador.
That the Lord of Luss hath told me of the delay.
The questions that he [Darnley] asked of Joachim.
Of my state.
Of my company.
And of Joseph.
The talk that he [Darnley] and I had, and of his desire to please me, of
his repentance, and of the interpretation of his letter.
Of Will Hiegait’s doing, and of his departure, and of the Lord of Liv-
ingston.

Most of these subjects had already been covered; later on, the writer refers to running out of paper and being obliged to use her memo sheet.

The letter then continues:

I had forgotten of the Lord of Livingston, that he at supper said softly to the Lady Reres, that he drank to the persons I knew of, if I would pledge them. And after supper, he said softly to me, when I was leaning upon him and warming myself, “You may well go and see sick folk, yet can you not be so welcome unto them as you have this day left somebody in pain.” I asked him who it was; he took me about the body and said, “One of his folks that has left you this day.” Guess you the rest.

This day I have wrought till two of the clock on this bracelet, to put the key in the cleft of it, which is tied with two laces. I have had so little time that it is very ill, but I will make a fairer; and in the meantime take heed that none of those that be here do see it, for I have made it in haste in their presence.

Some writers have seen a connection between this bracelet and the ones stolen by Lutini, but there is no evidence of any. What is significant is that Mary warned Bothwell not to let anyone see the bracelet she was making for him, presumably because people might draw conclusions at the sight of such a personal gift.

Mary apparently completed the above section of the letter in the early hours of 24 January. In the morning, she resumed her writing again:

I go to my tedious talk [i.e., with Darnley]. You make me dissemble so much that I am afraid thereof with horror, and you make me almost play the part of a traitor. Remember that, if it were not for obeying, I had rather be dead. My heart bleedeth for it.

After seeing Darnley, Mary continued, opening with a phrase she often used, “summa” or “en somme” (literally “in sum”):

To be short, he will not come but with condition that I shall promise to be with him as heretofore at bed and board, and that I shall forsake him no more; and upon my word, he will do whatever I will, and will come, but he hath prayed me to tarry till after tomorrow.

He hath spoken at the first more stoutly, as this bearer shall tell you, upon the matter of the Englishman, and of his departure, but in the end he cometh to his gentleness again.

He hath told me, among other talk, that he knew well that my brother [Moray] hath told me at Stirling that which he had said there, whereof he denied the half, and specially that he was in his chamber. But now, to make him trust me, I must feign something unto him; and therefore, when he desired me to promise that, when he should be well, we should make but one bed, I told him, feigning to believe his fair promises, that if he did not change his mind between this time and that, I was contented so as he would say nothing thereof: for (to tell it between us two), the Lords wished no ill to him, but did fear lest, considering the threatening which he made in case we did agree together, he would make them feel the small account they have made of him, and that he would persuade me to pursue some of them, and for this respect should be in jealousy if, at one instance, without their knowledge, I did raise the game to the contrary in their presence.

And he said unto me, very pleasant and merry, “Think you that they do the more esteem you therefor? But I am glad that you talked to me of the Lords. I hope that you desire now that we shall live a happy life; for if it were otherwise, it could not be but greater inconvenience should happen to us both than you think. But I will do now whatsoever you will have me do. I will love all those that you shall love, and so you make them to love me also. For so as they seek not my life, I love them all equally.” Thereupon I have willed this bearer to tell you many pretty things, for I have too much to write and it is late, and I trust him, upon your word. To be short [summa], he will go anywhere on my word.

Alas! I never deceived anybody, but I remit myself wholly to your will; and send me word what I shall do, and, whatsoever happen to me, I will obey you. Think also if you will not find some invention more secret by physic, for he is to take physic at Craigmillar, and the baths also, and shall not come forth of long time.

In The Book of Articles, it is alleged that, whilst at Glasgow, Mary “wrote to Bothwell to see if he might find out a more secret [way] by medicine to cut [Darnley] off.” Lennox claims that Mary also wrote in this letter “that Bothwell should in no wise fail to despatch his wife, and to give her the drink as they had devised before,” which is what de Silva heard, but there is no evidence of this in the surviving text. It could be that Lennox had seen an early draft of the doctored letter, but if that was so, it was far more logical for any forger to have retained such incriminating evidence than to have edited it out. The conclusion must be, therefore, that Lennox had made up this detail.

The letter continues:

To be short [summa], for that I can learn, he hath great suspicion, and yet nevertheless trusteth upon my word, but not to tell me as yet anything; howbeit, if you will that I shall avow him, I will know all of him; but I shall never be willing to beguile one that putteth his trust in me. Nevertheless, you may do all, and do not esteem me the less therefor, for you are the cause thereof. For, for my own revenge, I would not do it.

He giveth me certain charges, and these strong, that I fear even to say that his faults be published, but there be [some] that commit some secret faults and fear not to have them spoken of loudly, and that there is speech of great and small. And even touching the Lady Reres, he said, “God grant that she serve to your honour.” And that any may not think, nor he neither, that mine own power was not in myself, seeing I did refuse his offers. To conclude [summa], for a surety, he mistrusteth of that that you know, and for his life. But in the end, after I had spoken two or three good words to him, he was very merry and glad.

This passage presumably refers to Darnley’s fear of Morton and his reliance on Mary to protect him. She goes on:

I have not seen him this night for ending your bracelet, but I can find no clasps for it; it is ready thereunto, and yet I fear lest it should bring you ill hap, or that should be known if you were hurt. Send me word whether you will have it, and more money, and how far I may speak. Now, so far as I perceive, I may do much with you;²⁵guess you whether I shall not be suspected. As for the rest, he is mad when he hears of Lethington and of you and my brother. Of your brother [in law? Huntly?] he sayeth nothing, but of the Earl of Argyll he doth. I am afraid of him to hear him talk; at the last, he assured himself that he [Argyll] hath no ill opinion of him. He speaketh nothing of these abroad, neither good nor ill, but avoided speaking of him. His father keepeth his chamber: I have not seen him.

All the Hamiltons be here, who accompany me very honestly. All the friends of the others do come always when I go to visit him. He hath sent to me and prayeth me to see him rise tomorrow in the morning early. To be short, this bearer shall declare unto you the rest, and if I learn anything, I will make every night a memorial thereof. He shall tell you the cause of my stay. Burn this letter, for it is too dangerous, neither is there anything well said in it, for I think upon nothing but upon trouble²⁶if you be at Edinburgh.

Now, if to please you, my dear life, I spare neither honour, conscience nor hazard, nor greatness, taking it in good part, and not according to the intepretation of your false brother-in-law [Huntly], to whom I pray you, give no credit against the most faithful lover that ever you had or shall have.

See not also her [the Countess Jean] whose feigned tears you ought not more to regard than the true travails which I endure to deserve her place, for obtaining of which, against my own nature, I do betray those that could let [prevent] me. God forgive you, and give you, my only friend, the good luck and prosperity that your humble and faithful lover doth wish unto you, who hopeth shortly to be another thing unto you, for the reward of my pains.

I have not made one word, and it is very late, although I should never be weary in writing to you, yet will I end, after kissing of your hands. Excuse my evil writing, and read it over twice. Excuse also that I scribbled, for I had yesternight no paper when [I] took the paper of a memorial. Pray remember your friend, and write unto her and often. Love me always, as I shall love you.

The phrase “my evil writing” is one that Mary often used.

The Scots version ends:

Remember you of the purpose of the Lady Reres. Of the Englishmen. Of his mother. Of the Earl of Argyll. Of the Earl Bothwell. Of the lodging in Edinburgh.

It is this paragraph that has given rise to the theory that there were two letters, for Mary would hardly be reminding Bothwell to remember himself, and it was careless of a forger—if there was a forger—to leave in such a detail. It is significant that the English translator omitted it. It has been put forward that these were directions to the messenger, but that cannot be the case, and the words “remember you” preclude them from forming part of an aide-mémoire to the writer, such as appears in the middle of the letter. Furthermore, Bothwell is quite low down in the list of remembrances, which suggests he was not uppermost in Mary’s concerns. This paragraph, therefore, must be the end of the report that was perhaps written to Moray or Maitland. Had this letter been genuine in its entirety, it could not have been written to Bothwell. Neither, however, would certain sections of it appear to have been intended for anyone else. As this letter was produced as the most compelling evidence of Mary’s collusion with Bothwell, we can only conclude that it had been tampered with or at least partially fabricated.

If genuine, Casket Letter II incriminates Mary not only in an adulterous relationship with Bothwell, but also in helping him to plot Darnley’s murder. It offers plausible evidence of the behaviour of two people who were later suspected of being guilty of a murder that certainly took place. But, tampering aside, is the letter in substance genuine?

Let us consider what we know of Mary. She was at a low ebb emotionally, and must have felt panicky and beset by rumours of conspiracies. She had every reason to despise and fear her husband. She had agreed to a reconciliation that may well have been distasteful to her. She was a woman who needed a strong man to lean and rely upon. She had so far refused to become embroiled in plots against Darnley. However, she was now faced with the prospect of resuming sexual relations with her syphilitic husband. The circumstantial evidence against Mary would appear to be strong, but it must be remembered that the overriding objective in her life was the English throne. Marriage to Darnley had strengthened her title to it, and any scandal, such as the murder of her husband or adultery on her part with another man, would seriously prejudice her chances of achieving that objective.

Bothwell, with his long record of service to the Crown, also had every reason to despise Darnley, and was almost certainly plotting to do away with him, in concert with Maitland, Douglas and (probably) Moray. Bothwell was the man who was closest to the Queen, the man on whom she relied implicitly, and he was telling other potential conspirators that she had sanctioned the removal of Darnley. His taste of greatness had bred in him an ambition to seek for higher things and to hope that, once Darnley was out of the way, he might persuade the Queen to marry him. The rapidity with which he put himself forward, after Darnley’s murder, as the ideal candidate for Mary’s hand, suggests that the desire to be King was the driving force behind his determination to do away with Darnley. Livingston’s remark to Mary suggests that he had guessed Bothwell’s intentions towards her, but also implies that this was news to her.

It is, of course, quite possible that Bothwell and Mary had already become lovers, as this letter implies. But there is no evidence for it apart from Casket Letter II and the later malicious libels of Buchanan and Lennox.

It has been said that Casket Letter II is a masterpiece in the science of human nature²⁷and that this argues its authenticity, but it is possible that anyone with a vivid imagination and the benefit of hindsight could have invented the incriminating passages. As a portrayal of a woman so in thrall to her lover that she is willing to commit murder against the dictates of her conscience for his sake this letter is indeed a masterpiece, and there is evidence that Mary did become in thrall to Bothwell, but only after Darnley’s murder. There were several clever men at court with a good insight into the Queen’s character and sufficient knowledge of her literary style to reproduce it convincingly—Maitland was one such, Moray another—who could have been the inspiration behind such a forgery.

The fact remains, however, that Casket Letter II has certainly been tampered with—the reference to Bothwell is proof of this. This in itself must cast doubt on the veracity of its contents. The fact that Thomas Crawford copied passages of it almost word for word in order to give evidence against Mary in 1568 is further grounds for suspicion, for if Crawford’s testimony was genuine, why could it not have stood alone?

There can be little doubt that the section of the letter reporting the interview with Darnley is mostly genuine—it fits in with all the other evidence and is a convincing portrayal of Darnley’s character.

If the rest of the letter was a forgery, it was brilliantly done, with enough seemingly irrelevant detail, such as the memorial in the middle, to make it appear utterly genuine. The forger must have had access to other letters of Mary’s in order to imitate her style and, doubtless, her handwriting, which she later claimed was easily copied. It is now impossible to check this, since the original Casket Letters have long since vanished.

As will be seen later, Casket Letter II was produced by Mary’s enemies at a time when it was crucial for them to present evidence justifying the action they had taken against her, their anointed sovereign. For that reason alone, it must be suspect. However, the fact that it recounts in convincing detail events that are known to have taken place has led many to conclude that it must be genuine. Yet the reference to Bothwell at the end strongly suggests that it was not entirely so. Given this, and the circumstances in which the letter was produced, it cannot be regarded as reliable evidence of Mary’s guilt.

On 23 January, Sir William Drury returned to Berwick to find Joseph Lutini there, who told him he had been dispatched with Mary’s “good favour” to France on “certain of Her Grace’s affairs,” but claimed he was too unwell to proceed on his journey. Drury also found awaiting him the letter from Queen Mary asking him to apprehend Lutini because he had stolen goods and money from his colleagues, and insisting that it was not these that she wished to recover so much as Lutini’s person, “for now the Queen mistrusteth lest he should offer his service here in England, and thereby might, with better occasion, utter something prejudicial to her.” Drury thought it best to keep Lutini in Berwick until Queen Elizabeth’s pleasure was made known to him, and sent a copy of Mary’s letter and the forged passport to Cecil.²⁸

That same evening, Moretta arrived in Berwick. He was already more than a month late for the christening, which some have seen as suspicious. Moretta certainly met Lutini in Berwick, for Rizzio was to accuse Lutini of divulging to Moretta the fact that he, Rizzio, had been the cause of Lutini’s journey. As a result of the meeting, Lutini resolved never to return to Edinburgh for fear of meeting “a prepared death.”²⁹The evidence suggests that Lutini had been instructed by Darnley, through the good offices of Rizzio, to make contact with Moretta, whom Darnley perhaps hoped might serve as his link with Mondovi and the Vatican in his grandiose scheme to seize power and restore the Catholic faith in Scotland and England. If Casket Letter II is to be believed, Darnley may already have been in contact with Mondovi. Moretta might also be a means of enlisting the support of Spain, Savoy’s ally. The fact that Lutini was to go on to France suggests that Darnley may have intended him to make contact with de Alava in Paris.

The hopes invested by the Pope in Mary had been raised by news of the Prince’s lavish Catholic baptism, and on 22 January, Pius had written her a joyful letter, praising her for making such a good start and telling her that he was counting on the future salvation of Scotland.³⁰But on 24 January (and again on 13 February), Mondovi wrote to him to report the failure of the mission of Father Hay and the Bishop of Dunblane to Scotland. Hay, moreover, had called Mary a sinner for her want of zeal in the Catholic cause.

On 24 January, du Croc, on his way south, met Moretta travelling north from Berwick, and turned back to accompany him to Dunbar, since they were old acquaintances and Moretta was “desirous of the other’s company.”³¹After staying a night at Dunbar, du Croc resumed his journey to London.

On that same day, Bothwell left Edinburgh for Liddesdale. It was later alleged that, prior to his departure, he had been “overseeing the King’s lodging that was in preparing for him,”³²the implication being that Bothwell had finalised his murder plans. The Book of Articles claims that Bothwell went to Kirk o’Field “to visit and consider the house prepared for the King” and was not pleased when others came seeking him out there. But Kirk o’Field had not yet been chosen as a suitable lodging for Darnley: the plan was to take him to Craigmillar. It would have been perfectly logical for Bothwell to have checked that preparations for the King’s lodging at Craigmillar were proceeding smoothly before leaving Edinburgh; after all, it was on his way south.

Bothwell remained in the Borders for the next few days, and Mary stayed in Glasgow until 27 January. It will be remembered that Casket Letter I was dated “From Glasgow, this Saturday morning.” The only Saturday on which Mary was in Glasgow was 25 January. This letter would scarcely have been sent on this date because the writer is complaining that she has not had news from Bothwell, and had hoped to hear from him “yesterday.” But Bothwell had left her only four days earlier and had not yet reached Liddesdale. He had several days of hard riding and a short sojourn in Edinburgh, so would hardly have had time to write, which Mary must have known. Furthermore, “the man” must refer to James: Mary is unlikely to have written so warmly of Darnley at this time. Hence it must be concluded that the postscript “From Glasgow, this Saturday morning” was probably added by a forger to an earlier letter.

Moretta finally arrived in Edinburgh on 25 or 26 January.³³Father Hay appears to have made himself known to him.³⁴According to Buchanan, Moray came to Edinburgh to receive Moretta, and Maitland remained in the city to entertain him.³⁵Sir James Balfour lent his house in the Canongate to Moretta during his stay. Balfour, a Catholic, was a friend of Darnley, and may well have been acting as Darnley’s agent.

On the 26th, Moretta had a meeting with Joseph Rizzio, and disclosed details of his conversation with Lutini in Berwick, whereupon Rizzio, in a panic, wrote to Lutini in Berwick, recounting how it had come to the Queen’s attention that Lutini had absconded with her bracelets and other people’s money, and how Moretta had told him “that you told him that I was the cause that you took this journey. Take heed of what you say, for if you say for whom you have gone, we shall both be in real trouble.” Who in Scotland, but Darnley, would have used foreign Catholic agents at court to make contact on his behalf with the Catholic powers in Europe?

Rizzio continued:

I have always said that you had gone because you had taken money, and to let the anger which the Queen had against you die down, and that I had advised you to do so, and that I had lent you money to make this journey, so that you can still say the same. And I said that the money which you have taken from me you would give back when you were returned from France, and thus shall you and I both be excused. And if you do otherwise, you will be the cause of my ruin. For the love of God, act as if I were your son, and I pray you for the love of God and of the good friendship which you have borne me, and I you, to say as I tell you, which is that you are making this journey to bring back your money, and to let the Queen’s anger subside and the suspicion which she has of you; and the money which I said you have taken from me, that you have taken it for fear that you should happen to lack in your journey, and that you would restore it when you were returned; and that you are a man of wealth, and that you would not have taken it without returning it to me, because I was always your friend and you would never have thought that I would have made such a fuss of it. And I pray you not to want to be the cause of my ruin.

Rizzio went on to say that the Queen had told him she wanted to speak with Lutini in private, and he urged him to “take care to speak as I have written, and not otherwise” and not let Mary “rattle you with her speech”—evidently Lutini was a volatile fellow. Again, Rizzio begged him, “I pray you to have pity on me and not to be the cause of my death. If you say otherwise than that which I have written, you will be in trouble as well as I.” Beneath his signature, he added, “I beg you to burn this letter as soon as you have read it.”

It is almost certain that the money that Lutini took with him had been raised by Darnley or stolen on his behalf; it is even possible that it was Darnley who appropriated Mary’s bracelets. Rizzio had forged Lutini’s passport— a crime for which he could be executed—and was now terrified that the loose-tongued Lutini would betray him. There is no evidence that Lutini received his letter, which seems to have been intercepted by Drury, for it was later found among Cecil’s papers. With Lutini now held under guard at Berwick, it is no wonder that Rizzio was frantic with anxiety.

Drury reported on 26 January that, if there was no danger from the cold weather to Darnley’s health, Mary would leave Glasgow with him the next day.³⁶

Around this time, news of affairs in Scotland was causing some consternation in Paris. On 26 and 30 January, Catherine de’ Medici reported to her envoy in Brussels that the Spanish ambassador, Francisco de Alava, had shown “great choler.” She charitably put this down to illness, but added that, when he recovered, he would doubtless be more polite. As a precaution, she had had his diplomatic bags searched.

De Alava’s irascibility may have been born of anxiety, for it was at this time that he warned Archbishop Beaton that Mary was in danger; it will be remembered that de Alava was reputedly friendly with Darnley, and that he had informed the Duchess of Parma of a Scottish plot against Mary back in December. It seems strange that he had waited until now to get a warning to Mary, but it may be that his new information was sufficiently credible and alarming to prompt him to act. Nor did Beaton waste any time, for, on the 27th, he wrote informing Mary that de Alava had “specially advertised” her “to take heed of yourself.” Beaton added that he had “heard some murmuring in like wise by others, that there be some surprise to be trafficked to your contrary.” De Alava, he said, “would never let me know of no particular, only assured me he had written to his master to know if by that way he can try any farther, and that he was counselled to cause me haste towards you herewith.”

Partly at de Alava’s wish, Beaton asked the Queen Mother “if she had heard any discourse or advertisement lately tending to your hurt or disadvantage, but I came no speed [I had no success], nor would she confess that she had got nor heard any such appearance.” She said that her ambassadors to Scotland had told her that Mary’s affairs “were at very good point”; furthermore, she had heard from Mary’s own half-brother, Lord Robert Stewart, that Mary had forgiven Morton, Ruthven and Lindsay, “so she thought there was nothing to be feared.” Indeed, she had been glad to hear of the good relations between Mary and her subjects, “and saw nothing that might stop it, except if it were the variance between you and the King, which she desired God to appease.” Finally, Beaton humbly beseeched Mary “to cause the Captains of her Guard [to] be diligent in their office, for, notwithstanding that I have no particular occasion whereon I desire it, yet can I not be out of fear until I hear of your news. I pray the eternal God to preserve Your Majesty from all dangers, with long life and good health.”³⁷The letter was encoded in cipher and entrusted to a Scottish archer, Robert Drury.

What had de Alava heard to make him so anxious for Mary’s safety? He probably knew something of Darnley’s plotting, but, as he sent Mary a warning, nearly three weeks after Darnley’s death, that there was “yet some notable enterprise planned against her,” and claimed that he had learned this from the same source, it seems more likely that he had obtained intelligence of the Lords’ conspiracy against Darnley and drawn his own conclusions. What seems clear is that King Philip was not involved in any plot against Mary, for he would hardly have sanctioned de Alava’s warning if he had intended her any harm. It has been suggested that he was behind Darnley’s plot and deliberately sanctioned a warning that would come too late, but at this stage Mary’s future movements could not have been predicted, so clearly Darnley’s plans did not have the backing of Spain. Yet it seems that de Alava had not revealed all that he knew to Beaton, and it may be that he would have compromised his contacts by giving away too much of what he had heard. Beaton seems to have suspected Catherine de’ Medici of knowing more about the “surprise” than she had let on, and indeed she may well have done so, having rifled through de Alava’s letters. The fact that de Alava prompted Beaton to question Catherine suggests that he feared what she had discovered, which may account for his “choler” towards her.

Tragically, Beaton’s warning was to arrive too late, both for Mary and for Darnley.