What hour was it? She had no clock, and by the faint light she
surmised that dawn was not far away. It must be before five o'clock.
No one would be up yet. She returned to bed and forced herself to
wait.
Later, getting dressed still alone, blessedly alone! she heard sounds
outside her window. Looking out, where earlier there had been only
green, rolling landscape, she saw a huge company of men milling around.
They were armed with pikes and staves, and just as she appeared, one of
the leaders was sounding a bugle, another a bagpipe.
Excited beyond measure, she rushed from the room, her long hair
uncombed and flying, and ran out into the courtyard. Lord Seton,
following,
tried to stop her, but she outran him and made her way to the crowd. As
soon as they saw her, a hushed reverence fell over the men. Then
someone shouted, "God bless the Queen!" and a thousand voices shouted,
"Aye!"
Tears made all the colours and faces blend for a moment in her eyes.
Shaking her head to clear her vision, she held out her arms to them.
"My good people! I am indeed blessed to be back among you!"
At the sight of her, long hair flowing, and not properly dressed, they
were swept with emotion. She was surely the most beautiful queen in
the world, and how fortunate they were that she was theirs. Future
generations would envy them; their sons and daughters would ask them to
recount exactly how she had looked on this morning. "We'll die for
you!" they cried.
"I would have no one die," she answered. "Let my brother surrender and
step down. And now that you have shown your loyalty, he will do so. He
cannot ignore the will of the people."
Oh, how easy it would have been, immured in Lochleven, to have believed
that she was unloved and unwanted. Prison kept reality at bay as her
brother, Lord James, had counted on.
Mary sat, dressed again in borrowed clothes at a table in conference
with her nobles. They had left Niddry Castle after that first night
and headed west, toward Dumbarton. The mighty fortress on the coast
was the only one still in loyal hands; Lord Fleming, Mary's brother,
held it. The other strongholds, and their arsenals Stirling,
Edinburgh, Dunbar were at the disposal of Lord James. The west was
still mainly Catholic and loyal, and it made sense, strategically, to
head for that area. They hoped to pause and provide a rallying point
for the other loyalists to join them. The Ham-il tons that vast clan
with hereditary rights next to the Stewarts, had been angered by Lord
James seizing the Regency and giving them no part in the spoils. They
were now the center of the loyalists, and meant to turn the upstarts
out of power. Their territory lay just south of Glasgow, and so it was
to Castle Hamilton that Mary and her party repaired and made their
headquarters. Here the royalists could gather, knowing that the safety
of Dumbarton was only twelve miles away. From there in an emergency
they could go anywhere, just as Mary had sailed for France when she was
a child.
Now, seated at the very long, polished table were nine earls, nine
bishops, eighteen lords, and many lairds of lesser rank. Mary stood
up, a queen among her nobles once more.
"My Lords," she said, "I wish to solemnly repudiate my forced
abdication, and for you to witness it. Then we will publish it. I do
swear on my immortal soul, as I shall answer on the dreadful Day of
Judgement, that my signature on the writs and instruments procured at
Lochleven was got by violence and threats to my life. And for this I
have witnesses: George Douglas and Melville." She nodded to those two,
seated down near the end of the table.
"Indeed, it is true!" said George, his voice trembling. "Lord Lindsay
threatened to kill her to cut her up and feed her to the fish, he
said!"
"I can attest to the fact that Her Majesty agreed to sign only after I
assured her that the Queen of England advised her to do it to save her
life, knowing that nothing obtained in those circumstances could be
binding," Melville added. He had come straightway from Edinburgh as
soon as he was summoned, bringing with him two things Mary desperately
wanted: the Elizabeth ring, and her horses from her own stable.
"My Lords, I constitute us to have the legal standing of a Parliament,
and it is necessary that we attend to pressing business." Mary nodded
to the Archbishop of St. Andrews, clever John Hamilton. "The
Archbishop and I have prepared a statement concerning the Regent which
we wish you to ratify."
The Archbishop stood up and read out in a booming voice, " "We do
hereby declare that our false abdication, extorted under threat of our
life, is utterly null and void, and that we are Mary, by the Grace of
God, undoubted and righteous hereditary Queen of Scotland, succeeding
thereto of the immoveable just line, being lawfully elected, crowned,
invested and inaugurated thereto." "
All the men at the table nodded and murmured.
Then the Archbishop went on to detail the crimes of the Lord James,
branding him "that beastly traitor, a bastard begotten in shameful
adultery," and describing all his party as "shameless butchers,
hell-hounds, bloody tyrants, common murderers, and cutthroats, whom no
prince, yea, not the barbarous Turk, for their perpetrated murders
could pardon or spare."
The men laughed uneasily. The Queen, then, could never make peace with
her brother. She had turned utterly against him; he had betrayed her
once too often.
"Now my good Lords," she said, "I pray you give heed to what
intelligence we have of our adversaries."
Lord Seton stood. "The Regent was in Glasgow, holding an assize, when
the news reached him that Her Majesty had escaped a few days ago, and
he was sore amazed!"
The company laughed.
"He was alone except for a bodyguard, and thought perhaps he should
retreat back to Stirling, as this area is so partial to the Queen. But
he has evidently decided that it is better to stand his ground rather
than be seen to retreat. Consequently he has set up camp there and
sent out summons for men. He calls for" he unfolded a paper "for the
preservation of the King's person, and the establishing of
quietness."
Mary laughed scornfully. "And how has his summons been answered?"
"Kirkcaldy is bringing harquebusiers from Edinburgh, and Erskine is
bringing cannon from Stirling. And there's Morton and his pike men
hurrying to fight."
"How many?"
"Thus far, about two thousand. When Lindsay and Ruthven and Glen-cairn
come, there may be as many as three thousand."
"Ha!" The Earl of Argyll gave a scornful snort. "Why, my Highlanders
alone are nearly two thousand. Add the Hamiltons, and we'll have over
five thousand!"
Suddenly she was gripped with a cold hand of fear. Her army was
larger. But it had no leader. There was no Bothwell, no one
comparable. Without Both well to counter them, Kirkcaldy and Lord
James and Morton became formidable enemies. What was only good became,
in the absence of excellence, excellence itself.
"And who will lead my army? Who will be my general?" Mary asked.
"I," said Argyll. "I have brought the largest number of men."
Hamilton glowered.
"My dearest Queen," said Lord Herries suddenly, "you should know that
there are only two ways to restore you to your throne so that you are
in power: either by a decree of Parliament, or by battle. It is your
choice to make."
Mary looked up and down the table at the faces of her supporters:
George Douglas's handsome features and tight-lipped commitment; the
plain, honest face of Lord Seton; the calm bravery of Lord
Livingston.
Bothwell's face was missing, and always would be. But the others had
already sacrificed much of themselves, and would not fail her.
"By battle let us try it!" she said, and purpose and resolve flooded
her, washing aside any lingering hesitation.
In the next few days, more men flocked to her standard; more than one
hundred lesser lords brought their vassals, tenants, and domestic
servants for her army. Huntly had surprisingly thrown in his lot with
hers, and was bringing his troops down from the Highlands. But
torrential rains had swollen the streams and made them impassable.
"I've no doubt the Lord James plans to strike before Huntly can
arrive," said Mary to George. "But even without him, we are
stronger."
"My father has joined them," said George. "Yesterday he brought his
men."
"My, how efficient spies are," said Mary lightly, but in her heart she
was disturbed. How was information passing so freely between the
armies? Yet she knew George was to be trusted. "But I am grateful he
is able to fight, if that makes sense."
"Yes," George muttered. The Laird had tried to stab himself to death
after he had discovered the Queen's escape; he had felt the dishonour
keenly. Yet his servants had prevented him, and now the impulse had
passed. "I am spared that guilt ... a part in my father's murder."
"There has been enough murder in Scotland," said Mary, twisting the
Elizabeth ring. Just having it on her finger gave her security. I
have the means of escaping to France by sea, should it come to that, or
to England by land if all else fails, she thought. She wondered if
Elizabeth had received her last letter, followed by the news of her
escape. So far there had been no word from England.
"There is the problem of pay," George was saying. "The Lord James has
all the coin and plate and jewels of the crown at his disposal, and we
have nothing. How will we pay these troops?"
"With promises," she said. "For once I regain my throne "
"They cannot eat on promises," said George.
"Then the food and munitions must be given as gifts," she answered.
"Those who support me will have to extend charity, for now."
"You ask a high price," he said. "Not everyone will pay it."
"Not everyone, no. There are very few like you, George willing to be
at enmity with what they perceive as their own best interests, or with
their own flesh and blood. Poor George you are going against both your
father and your older brother."
"I have no other choice," he said. "But others may."
"No other choice?" she asked.
"You know all too well what I mean. Pray do not ask me to say the
words."
Mary sent a proclamation to James, encamped only a few miles away,
announcing that she was repudiating her abdication and reclaiming her
throne, and that she desired, in the name of mercy, to receive his
acceptance of this and to reconcile him to obedience to her. His reply
was to tear it up and put her messenger in chains.
On May thirteenth, only eleven days after Mary had fled from Lochleven,
the battle was joined. Mary's forces had swelled to six thousand men,
even without Huntly, whereas James's were only three thousand. Early
in the morning her commander, Argyll, gave the orders to march
westward, skirting Glasgow, and engage James at his stronghold at Burgh
Muir.