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ON 9 DECEMBER—TOO LATE to prevent the Casket Letters from being offered in evidence—the protest of Mary’s commissioners was received in its amended form by Cecil. Having now discovered what had happened in their absence, Leslie and his colleagues made a further objection against the travesty of justice whereby such dramatic evidence was produced at hearings at which they had not been present, and demanded the summary arrest of those who had laid such charges against their sovereign. When this was refused, they again withdrew from the conference, which should, of course, have immediately been terminated.1
When they had gone, the English commissioners proceeded as if nothing had happened, and continued to read and peruse the Casket Letters, which had now been translated into English, and the other evidence presented by Moray. Morton gave, on oath, his account of the discovery of the Casket Letters, which was based on a written declaration he had given to Cecil the previous day.2Many writers have given credence to Morton’s words, but they can be proved inaccurate in at least one respect, for he claimed that Dalgleish was caught with Bothwell’s patent of creation as Duke of Orkney on him; Bothwell in fact had this with him when he arrived in Norway. Finally, Thomas Nelson and Thomas Crawford appeared in camera as witnesses for the Lords, Crawford offering a revised version of his earlier testimony as to what passed between Mary and Darnley at Glasgow.
The next day, the Lords swore on oath that the Casket Letters were “undoubtedly” in Mary’s handwriting. The commissioners then adjourned for the weekend, but on Monday, 12 December, examples of Mary’s handwriting were exhibited to them, allowing them to make comparisons with the calligraphy of the Casket Letters. Leslie, hearing of this, protested that these comparisons constituted no legal proof of Mary’s authorship, but merely reflected the opinions of the commissioners.
On the 13th, another deposition by Thomas Crawford was produced, this time recounting what Hepburn and Hay had said to him from the scaffold nine months before. That day, Elizabeth decided to further enlarge her commission: to avoid any accusation of partiality, she summoned her remaining Privy Councillors and six more earls to view the evidence; among them were the Catholic Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland, who had not arrived in time for the opening of the Westminster conference.
The enlarged commission met at Hampton Court for the final session of the conference, which lasted from 14 to 15 December. During it, the proceedings of the inquiry were read out, and the commissioners were given the chance to study and consider the evidence, including the Casket Letters. Afterwards, the English nobles expressed gratitude to the Queen for revealing to them the particulars of the inquiry, “wherein they had seen such foul matter as they thought truly in their consciences that Her Majesty’s position was justified.” They agreed that Mary’s guilt was, “upon things now produced, made more apparent,” and said that “they could not allow it as meet for Her Majesty’s honour to admit the said Queen to Her Majesty’s presence, as the case now did stand.” De Silva, however, heard that the peers were not unanimous in their conclusions, and that, at the last meeting of the conference on the 15th, some had the courage to check the unseemly violence of Cecil’s attitude towards the Queen of Scots.3
Elizabeth had nevertheless achieved her aim: the evidence against Mary had been aired before the most influential men in the kingdom, yet the Scottish Queen had never been heard in her own defence. Furthermore, the blame for this could be laid squarely on the shoulders of Mary and her commissioners, who had seemingly boycotted the inquiry, from which it might be inferred that there was no defence that they could offer. It was in this climate that Elizabeth declared the conference at an end.
Wishing to be seen as fair-minded, Elizabeth made a point of seeing Mary’s commissioners on 16 December, and, “with many expressions of sympathy” for their mistress, reminded them that the Regent’s evidence constituted “very great presumptions and arguments to confirm the common report against the said Queen.” She told them that she was willing to reopen the inquiry if Mary agreed to answer Moray’s charges, either through her commissioners, or in writing, or to a delegation of English nobles. Leslie and Herries wrote to Mary at once, urging her to compromise, so that she would not be assumed guilty “of such horrible crimes only for lack of coming into Her Majesty’s presence,” adding that Elizabeth had said that, if Mary refused all three options, “it will be thought as much as if she were culpable.”
But Mary ignored their advice. On 19 December, she angrily rejected all Elizabeth’s proposals, declaring that she could hardly be expected to answer charges based on evidence that she had not been allowed to examine, nor would she “answer otherwise than in person” before Elizabeth. Instead, she instructed her commissioners to ask for copies of all the writings produced against her, commanding that they themselves must see the originals. Then, “by God’s grace, we shall make such answer thereto that our innocence shall be known to our good sister and to all other princes.”
In the same letter, Mary belatedly drew up a list of her own charges against Moray, declaring that, in his Eik, he and his fellows had “falsely, traitorously and miscreantly lied, imputing to us the crime whereof they themselves are authors, inventors, doers and executors,” a crime of which she now formally accused them. She expressed outrage at the Lords’ accusation that she had plotted the death of her own child, which “calumny should suffice for proof and inquisition of all the rest, for the natural love of a mother towards her bairn confounds them.” She referred back to the murder of Rizzio, when the Lords themselves would have “slain the mother and the bairn both when he was in our womb.” Lastly, she condemned Moray’s Regency as manifestly unlawful.4
This letter had not yet reached London when, on 21 December, despite heavy snow, Elizabeth sent some of Mary’s commissioners to Bolton to give her a detailed report of the inquiry. With them, they carried a letter from the English Queen, informing Mary that as we have been very sorry of long time for your mishaps and great troubles, so find we our sorrows now double in beholding such things as are produced to prove yourself cause of all the same; and our grief herein is also increased in that we did not think at any time to have seen or heard such matters of so great appearance and moment to charge and condemn you. Nevertheless, both in friendship, nature and justice, we are moved to stay our judgement before we may hear of your direct answer thereunto. We cannot but, as one prince and near cousin regarding another, as earnestly as we may, require and charge you not to forbear answering.5
Elizabeth had seemingly forgotten her earlier declarations that she would pass no judgement on Mary’s case; she was now more concerned with the fact that Mary could not be found guilty unless she had put forward a defence. She ended her letter by telling Mary that she would be “heartily glad and well content to hear of sufficient matter for your discharge.” Yet, on the day after this was written, Cecil drafted a memorandum that envisaged Mary’s detention in England as the ideal outcome of the inquiry; it would be best, he wrote, if she was “to remain in the realm and not depart until she has repaired the wrong done by her claim to the crown.” This was the crux of the matter. Moreover, Cecil was of the opinion that, even if Moray and the Lords had been accessories to Darnley’s murder and the Bothwell marriage, Mary was probably guilty too. But regardless of whether she was guilty or not, England’s security was paramount.
Leslie and Herries were not optimistic about the outcome of the inquiry. They realised that, if Mary would not answer the Lords’ case, her position would be perilous indeed. Again they tried to bring about a compromise, in the interests of preserving Mary’s honour. They suggested three alternatives: firstly, Mary could ratify her abdication and live out her life in retirement in England; secondly, she and James could rule Scotland as joint sovereigns, while Moray retained the Regency; thirdly, she could remain Queen of Scots, but live in seclusion in England while Moray ruled in her name as Regent. Moray rejected the last two suggestions, but urged that Elizabeth press Mary to agree to the first. Elizabeth naturally favoured this course, since it would remove the need for her to pronounce judgement, and accordingly, she wrote to Knollys on 22 December, ordering him to suggest to Mary, “as if from yourself,” that, in view of her refusal to answer the charges, her wisest course would be to accept Moray’s government, commit her cause “to perpetual silence,” and live in England as a private person for the rest of her life. Leslie, who had suggested this course, urged Mary to take it.6
On 22 December, having learned that Herries and Leslie were planning to accuse the Scottish Lords of the murder of Darnley, Lindsay wrote to Herries and challenged him to a duel. Herries replied: “That you were privy to it, Lord Lindsay, I know not; and if you will say that I have specially spoken of you, you lied in your throat.” He added that he was willing to take up a challenge from the “principals” in the murder, which was probably a reference to Moray, Maitland and Morton.
Herries and Leslie met with the English commissioners on Christmas Eve and informed them that they had been authorised by Mary to charge the Regent and his colleagues with Darnley’s murder. The next day, they presented to Elizabeth Mary’s list of charges against the Scottish Lords, and asked to see the writings produced against their Queen. Elizabeth said she thought this a “very reasonable” request, and said she was glad to hear that “her good sister would make answer in that manner for the defence of her honour.”
Meanwhile, at Bolton, Knollys had been urging Mary to answer the accusations of her enemies. Upon receiving Elizabeth’s letter of 22 December, he told Mary that she stood “in a very hard case,” and if she would not answer the charges, she would “provoke” Elizabeth “to take you as condemned, and to publish the same, to your utter disgrace and infamy, especially in England. And after this sort [he continued] I began to strike as great terror into her as I could. She answered stoutly as she would make all other princes know how evil she was handled, coming upon trust into this realm, and saith, ‘I am sure the Queen will not condemn me, hearing only mine adversaries, and not me.’ ” Knollys answered, “Yet she will condemn you if you condemn yourself by not answering.” He told her that the best way of saving her honour and consigning all the accusations against her to oblivion was to resign her crown to her son and “remain in England a convenient time.”
“The judgement of the world would in such a case condemn me,” Mary replied. Knollys suggested she “think better on it at her pleasure,” and left. He warned Elizabeth he did not believe that Mary would ever be brought to answer the charges against her without being assured beforehand that judgement would be given in her favour, “unless your Council would take a short answer for a sufficient answer: that is to say, that the accusations of her adversaries are false because that she, on the word of a prince, will say that they are false.” It was unreasonable, of course, for the English to expect Mary to answer Moray’s accusations without seeing the evidence, or being allowed to defend herself in person; she told Knollys that she could easily overturn the Lords’ case, but had never had any intention of answering it before anyone other than Elizabeth, her equal. It is hardly surprising that, in these circumstances, Mary expected judgement to be given in her favour, yet it was perhaps rash of her to stand on her dignity as a sovereign ruler and refuse to answer the charges of her subjects, when, as Knollys had so succinctly pointed out, she stood in such a hard case.
At long last, Mary was beginning to perceive that the English were in collusion with Moray, and that Elizabeth’s fair words had all along masked a steely determination to maintain the present state of affairs. Around this time, Mary wrote to Mar, begging him to guard James and not allow him to be brought openly to England or taken by stealth.7
On 28 December, Mary’s commissioners met again with the English commissioners, and were disturbed to learn that the latter were almost to a man convinced of the soundness of the Scottish Lords’ case, “notwithstanding our reasons to the contrary.” Things now looked very dismal indeed for Mary.
At Bolton, on 1 January 1569, Lord Scrope added his persuasions to those of Knollys, urging a doubtful Mary to abdicate. Mary said she would think on their advice and give them her answer in two days. Afterwards, Knollys and Scrope reported to Elizabeth that she would never yield.8
Mary must have felt isolated and friendless. Leslie’s efforts to reach an honourable compromise had almost amounted to a betrayal. She could trust no one, for there was no one who did not have an ulterior motive. They were all urging her to abdicate, as if she were guilty, but if she did as everyone urged, she would virtually be acknowledging her guilt. This made her mind up. On 3 January, she told Knollys that her resolution was unalterably fixed, and that she would prefer death to the ignominious terms proposed by her enemies.9
Back at court, the Earl of Arundel told Elizabeth plainly on 4 January that one who had a crown could hardly persuade another sovereign to leave her crown because her subjects would not obey her. “It may be a new doctrine in Scotland, but it is not good to be taught in England.” However, Elizabeth’s course was set, and she was impervious to arguments.
Mary was trying to gather evidence against the Lords. On 5 January, she sent Huntly the famous written declaration of what had taken place at Craigmillar in December 1566, which she required him and Argyll to sign as a true record of events, and which implied that Maitland and Moray were the instigators of the plot against Darnley. The two Earls were to affirm that, “the murder of the said Henry Stuart following, we judge in our consciences that the said Earl of Moray and Secretary Lethington were authors, inventors, devisers, counsellors and causers of the said murder, in what manner or by whatsoever persons the same was executed.”10 As has been argued, this was probably the truth, but Huntly and Argyll were also implicated in the murder, although Mary may not have been aware of this. Unfortunately for her, this document was intercepted by English spies, and was in Cecil’s hands by 19 January, for it was on that date that Moray wrote his answer to it, for Cecil’s benefit.
As they had been instructed, Mary’s commissioners saw Elizabeth on 7 January, and demanded that, pursuant to their sovereign’s resolve to charge Moray and the Lords with Darnley’s murder, she “desired the writings produced by her rebellious subjects, or at the least the copies thereof, to be delivered unto them, that their mistress might fully answer thereto, as was desired.” Elizabeth said she would give them an answer in two or three days. When she suggested that it would be better all round if the Queen of Scots abdicated, Leslie protested that Mary would prefer death, and that as this was her final resolution, he could not write to her again on the subject, as Elizabeth wished. Even as this meeting was taking place, the English government was drawing up a paper assessing the possibilities of keeping Mary in England, securely held but with all the courtesies due to a queen, without Elizabeth having passed any judgement on her.
An embittered Mary had ceased to believe in Elizabeth’s assurances and goodwill, and, with little understanding of the true extent of Catholic support for her cause in England, now embarked on the first of many intrigues against her royal cousin. On 8 January, she sent a message to Philip of Spain, via the Spanish ambassador, telling him that, with his help, she herself could be Queen of England in three months, and Mass would once more be celebrated all over the country.11 But Philip was not ready to commit any resources to such a hazardous undertaking; he also feared that, if Mary did win the English crown, she would ally herself with France, Spain’s enemy.
It is clear that, from January 1569 onwards, Mary was more interested in claiming the English throne than in regaining the Scottish one. After all, the one might be a springboard to the other. To this end, she was to be implicated in a relentless series of plots against Elizabeth, becoming the focus and figurehead of Catholic intrigues that were all centred upon restoring the ancient faith in England. “My last breath shall be that of a queen,” she was to declare.12
On 9 December, Mary’s commissioners told the English Lords at Hampton Court that their mistress would never abdicate. The next day, Elizabeth formally ended the inquiry with her long-awaited pronouncement, in which she declared that nothing had been sufficiently proved, against either Mary or Moray, and that she “saw no cause to conceive an ill opinion of her good sister of Scotland.” When it came to the point, Elizabeth had after all declined to pass judgement, not wishing to make it appear that a reigning sovereign was subject to the jurisdiction of any tribunal.
In giving this ruling, Elizabeth had reserved all her options. The evidence offered against Mary had given her a pretext for keeping her in custody, since she dared not set her at liberty; yet, as Mary had not been found guilty of any crime, and the evidence had been kept secret, Elizabeth could choose to restore her to her throne whenever it suited her. Mary was the trump card in her hand, to be played whenever Elizabeth wished to manipulate Scottish affairs to her own advantage. Her verdict made sound political sense, for she had shown herself helpful to both sides, and thereby avoided offending either the Scots or Mary’s Catholic supporters. Furthermore, it ensured the continuance of a friendly Protestant regime in Scotland, and bound England and Scotland together in long-term amity for the first time in history. It had also left Mary tainted by suspicion, with her innocence in question.
On the day Elizabeth gave her verdict, Cecil told Moray that Elizabeth, hearing of “the unquiet state and disorder of the realm of Scotland now in his absence, thinketh meet not to restrain any further the Earl and his adherents’ liberty, but suffer him and them at their pleasure to depart, till she hear further of the Queen of Scotland’s answers to such things as have been alleged against her.”13 It was pretty safe to assume that Mary would never condescend to answer Moray’s charges, and that he would not need to be recalled.
On the 11th, in an attempt to prevent Moray’s return to Scotland, Mary’s commissioners told Cecil, in the presence of the Regent, that they had been instructed by Mary to accuse Moray and his adherents of Darnley’s murder, but were still awaiting copies of the “pretended writings given in against their mistress, which they have divers times required of the Queen’s Majesty and her Council, but they have not as yet obtained; and how soon they received the copies thereof, she would answer thereto in defence of her innocence.” Cecil made no answer. It would appear that both he and the Lords were aware that Mary would be able to demolish their case, and that he was determined that she should not have the opportunity to do so. On 12 January, therefore, Moray was granted formal licence to return to Scotland, even though Mary had charged him with regicide.
Mary’s commissioners were informed by Cecil, on 13 January, that Elizabeth would not deny the Queen of Scots sight of “true copies” of the Casket Letters, but before they were delivered to her, she required “a special writing sent by the Queen of Scots, signed with her own hand, promising that she will answer to the things laid to her charge without exception”; then the matter would be subject to trial, and she would be judged innocent or guilty. Elizabeth warned her to think seriously about the consequences of a guilty verdict, for then “the Queen’s Majesty can never with her honour show her any favour.” Mary’s commissioners reiterated that, “whatsoever thing was produced by the Queen’s rebels was but invented slanders and private writings, which could not prejudice her in any wise.” They also claimed that Mary, like Moray, should be given licence to return to Scotland, but Cecil answered that Moray had promised to return at any time if Elizabeth required his presence; “in the meantime, the Queen of Scotland could not be suffered to depart, for divers respects.” With their worst fears confirmed, Herries and Leslie made vehement protests, but Cecil would not say any more.
Moray left London around 19 January, enriched by a large loan from Elizabeth, which was to be used to crush the Marian party in Scotland. Before he left, he had told Norfolk that, “so far from not loving his sister, she was the creature upon Earth that he loved the best. He never wished her harm. Her own pressing was the occasion of that which was uttered to her infamy.” He also discussed the prospect of a marriage between Norfolk and Mary, and departed under the impression that Elizabeth looked kindly upon it, when in fact she had warned Norfolk to put all thoughts of this marriage out of his head. Moray had also been granted a farewell audience with Elizabeth, who promised to maintain him in his Regency.
After Moray had gone, the French ambassador, at Mary’s instance, interceded with Elizabeth on her behalf, expressing the hope that Her Majesty would not permit the Queen of Scots to be oppressed by her rebellious subjects, and would furnish Mary’s commissioners with copies of the evidence against her. Elizabeth looked profoundly moved, and promised that this would be done the very next day. But she did not keep her word. On 20 January, she wrote coldly to Mary:
It may be, Madam, that in receiving a letter from me, you may look to hear something which shall be for your honour. I would it were so, but I will not deceive you. Your case is not so clear but that much remains to be explained.
There were no further pronouncements on Mary’s future. It was obvious to most people that Elizabeth intended keeping her a prisoner.