Mary, Queen of Scots (71 page)

Two days later, a commission was issued in the name of King James, authorising Moray, Morton, Lindsay, Adam Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney, and Robert Pitcairn, Commendator of Dunfermline, assisted by Maitland, James MacGill, the Protestant lawyer Henry Balnaves (who hated Mary), and Buchanan, as secretary, to meet Queen Elizabeth’s commissioners at York, and to declare the causes why the Lords had taken up arms against their sovereign lady.
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Relations between Moray and Maitland were now frosty, but Moray had decided to take the Secretary, that “necessary evil,” with him because he feared it would be unsafe to leave him in Scotland. As for Maitland, he was determined to do all in his power behind the scenes at York to protect Mary’s interests. In the furtherance of a future dynastic union with England, for which he had worked for years, he hoped to bring about a reconciliation between the Regent and Mary that would lead to the latter’s restoration. In this, he had an ulterior motive, for, fearful that his own role in Darnley’s murder would be exposed, he wanted to avoid a close examination of the evidence by the commission. But neither Mary nor Moray trusted him: both regarded him as treacherous. However, if Maitland could turn matters around in the Queen’s favour at York, she might forgive him and be more amenable to reaching some composition with Moray.

On 20 September, Elizabeth wrote a private letter to Moray, assuring him that, although it had been reported that she intended to restore Mary even if she were found guilty, this was not in fact the case,
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and this was reiterated by Cecil in a letter sent on the 25th. Meanwhile, Elizabeth had learned, through Knollys, that Mary had told her Catholic friends that her interest in Protestantism was merely opportunistic.
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Proof of this is to be found in a letter Mary wrote in September 1568 to the Queen of Spain, claiming that, with King Philip’s help, she would “make ours the reigning religion” in England. Already, she was scheming to seize Elizabeth’s crown. But since her marriage to Bothwell, Philip had ceased to support her. Late in September, fearful that her co-religionists were being alienated by her dabbling in Protestantism, Mary publicly reaffirmed her devotion to the old religion before a large gathering of Catholics at Bolton Castle. But on 29 September, her instructions to her commissioners contained an undertaking that she would consider embracing religious conformity with England after her restoration.
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In her desperation to regain her throne, Mary was trying to be all things to all people, and learning to be duplicitous in the process.

Moray and his colleagues left Edinburgh for York on 25 September. They took with them the English translation of Buchanan’s indictment, called the
Book
of Articles,
which significantly contained more detailed references to the Casket Letters than the original. Mary’s commissioners arrived at York on 2 October, Moray’s and Elizabeth’s on the 3rd. Sir Ralph Sadler was probably not alone in feeling unhappy and perplexed about the outcome of the conference that was to open on the morrow. As for Norfolk, he had little faith in Mary’s commissioners, and believed that she had better friends on Moray’s side than on her own.
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“THESE RIGOROUS ACCUSATIONS”

THE YORK CONFERENCE OPENED ON 4 October 1568. The first four days were taken up with preliminary formalities: on the 5th, Moray and his colleagues agreed to the form of the oath to be sworn by the commissioners, but this was objected to on the next day by Mary’s commissioners, Herries saying he was willing to swear to nothing but what was just and true, but not to swear to all he knew to be true:
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in other words, he was prepared to tell the truth, but not the whole truth. Some historians have inferred from this that he did not believe Mary to be innocent, but it may be that she did not wish her commissioners to disclose intimate information that might touch her honour. Nor might they have wanted to reveal unpalatable truths about Bothwell that might compromise Mary’s position. In the event, they did swear an oath on 7 October, but affirmed as they did so that Mary was a sovereign princess who acknowledged no judge; they also referred to Elizabeth’s promise to them to restore Mary. In turn, Moray and the other Scottish commissioners swore to declare the cause why they had taken up arms against their Queen and deposed her.

As Mary was the plaintiff, her commissioners were heard first. On 8 October, they laid her complaints against Moray and the Confederate Lords, accusing them of taking up arms against their lawful sovereign, deposing and incarcerating her, usurping the Regency and compelling her to seek justice from her royal cousin. Furthermore, they had ruined her reputation by “feigned and false reports.” In answer, Moray claimed that the Lords had been intimidated into signing the Ainslie’s Tavern Bond by the presence of Bothwell’s armed retainers; that Mary had relinquished sovereign power to the traitor Bothwell; and that after Carberry Hill, she had rigorously menaced all who had taken part against Bothwell, which had left the Lords with no option but to imprison her until Darnley’s murderers had been brought to justice. He insisted that she had abdicated voluntarily, which was a blatant lie, and that his Regency had been ratified by Parliament.
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The next day, Mary’s commissioners restated her case in writing, in what became known as the Book of Complaints. When this was submitted, Moray asked for time in which to frame a reply. His own complaint was submitted in writing on 10 October.

Between sessions, there was a great deal of “off the record” discussion between the various commissioners; Norfolk, as chairman, had made it his business to sound out all the principals. On 9 October, Moray privately asked him if the English commissioners had the authority to pronounce on Mary’s guilt, and, if she were found guilty, whether she would be delivered up to the Scots for punishment or kept in prison in England. He said that, until the present, he had preferred to conceal Mary’s infamy—regardless of the fact that he had sent Elizabeth a copy of the Act of Parliament accusing his sister of Darnley’s murder—but before he took the irrevocable step of charging her with murder and producing his evidence, he must know how, if he proved his charges, he and his colleagues would be protected from Mary’s vengeance. Consequently, he would not accuse her until he had a written guarantee that, if found guilty, she would not be restored, and Elizabeth would recognise the government of King James.

Norfolk should have informed Mary’s commissioners of Moray’s concerns, but instead he secretly forwarded the Regent’s requests immediately to London, then adjourned the conference in order to give Elizabeth and her Privy Council time to consider them. Clearly, Moray did not want to produce the Casket Letters if there was any chance of Mary returning to Scotland.

The next day, the English commissioners sent a report to Queen Elizabeth, informing her that the Regent had as yet said nothing publicly about Darnley’s murder, since he was was waiting for her reassurance that his evidence was sufficient to condemn Mary; again, Moray was trying to secure a judgement before presenting his evidence. To this end, Maitland, MacGill, Buchanan and Wood had privately, and most irregularly, shown the English commissioners “such matter as they have to condemn the Queen of Scots of the murder of her husband,” viz. a copy of the Ainslie’s Tavern Bond and a warrant allegedly signed by Mary on 19 April 1567 approving it, the two marriage contracts from the Casket Documents, Mary’s two letters (Casket Letters VI and VII) apparently consenting to her abduction, Casket Letter I, Casket Letter II—“one horrible and long letter of her own hand, containing foul matter and abominable to be either thought of or to be written by a prince”—“divers fond ballads” and another letter that purportedly proved that Mary had incited the quarrel on 8 February 1567 between Darnley and Lord Robert Stewart, in the hope that Stewart would kill Darnley; no copy of this letter has survived. As for Casket Letter II and the love “sonnets,” they did, according to Norfolk, discover such inordinate love between [Mary] and Bothwell, her loathing and abhorrence of her husband that was murdered, in such sort as every good and godly man cannot but detest and abhor the same.

The Lords had sworn and affirmed that these letters and poems were all written by Mary’s hand. Much swayed by the evidence, the English commissioners observed that the matter contained in them [was] such as could hardly be invented or devised by any other than by herself, for that they discourse of some things which were unknown to any other than to herself and Bothwell; and it is hard to counterfeit so many, so the matter of them, and the manner how these men came by them, is such, as it seemeth, that God, in Whose sight murder and bloodshed of the innocent is abominable, would not permit the same to be hid or concealed.

Norfolk and his colleagues enclosed for their sovereign’s perusal a paper on which they had noted the chief and special points of the said letters, written, as they say, with her own hand, to the intent it may please Your Majesty to consider of them, and so to judge whether the same be sufficient to convict her of the detestable crime of the murder of her husband, which, in our opinions and consciences, if the said letters be written with her own hand, is very hard to be avoided.
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Copies of these documents should also have been made available to Mary’s commissioners, but political considerations took priority over legal niceties throughout this inquiry, and the Lords were determined that Mary should not have the opportunity to comment on their evidence before Elizabeth had seen it. Moreover, this evidence was so contentious that the English commissioners dared not draw any conclusions until they knew what Elizabeth’s view would be. Although they had professed to be shocked by the letters, they had made it clear that any condemnation of Mary would depend upon whether the letters had in fact been written by her.

This was a crucial point. The paper that was sent to Elizabeth by her commissioners survives in the Cotton MSS. in the British Library, and contains extracts in Scots from Casket Letters I and II. Therefore the letters shown to Norfolk, Sussex and Sadler must have been in Scots. However, the Lords were ready “to swear and take their oaths” that these letters were the originals in Mary’s own hand.
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As she normally wrote in French and was not very proficient in Scots, and as there is technical evidence (such as errors in translation) that the original Casket Letters were in French, these letters in Scots could not have been written by Mary.

Moray had also taken the trouble to send copies of the Casket Letters to Cecil, and later noted that these were delivered to the Secretary on 15 October.

Moray was not the only one to indulge in underhand practices. By 11 October, Maitland had leaked a copy or copies of at least one of the Casket Letters to Mary, perhaps with the help of his wife, Mary Fleming, and sent a note asking how he could best assist her. She replied that he should pacify Moray, speak a word in her favour to Norfolk, look upon Leslie as her friend, and use all his influence to “stay these rigorous accusations.”
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Maitland, more than most people, must have known the truth about the Casket Letters. Had they been genuine, it is unlikely that he would have wished to help Mary. But he himself was probably implicated heavily in Darnley’s murder, and his conscience now seems to have been troubling him. He would have sent the letters to Mary so that she could prepare her defence against them. Mary, for her part, naturally did not want such shocking and defamatory accusations against her to be made public.

Maitland also made it his business to warn Mary’s commissioners that the Lords had shown their evidence to Elizabeth’s commissioners.

On 12 October, Mary’s commissioners asked the English commissioners for time to frame a reply to Moray’s response to the charges. Then they rode off to Bolton to tell Mary what Maitland had told them. That day, Norfolk wrote to the Earl of Pembroke, giving him to believe he thought the letters to be genuine. But Norfolk, for reasons of self-interest, did not want them to be made public: Elizabeth was childless, and if she died, Mary might well become Queen of England. She would not readily forgive those who had helped to publicly brand her an adulteress and murderess.

When Herries and his colleagues returned to York on 13 October, Norfolk asked them to apply to Mary to have their remit extended, so that they could “treat, conclude and determine of all matters and causes whatsoever in controversy between her and her subjects.” The next day, Moray reiterated his answer to the Book of Complaints, reserving his right to “eik” (add to or amplify) his statement.

Meanwhile, Mary had been complaining to Sir Francis Knollys of the clandestine proceedings at York, and told him that, if the Lords “will fall to extremity, they shall be answered roundly and to the full, and then we are past all reconciliation.” On 15 October, Knollys warned Norfolk that Mary was aware of what was going on behind her back.

On the 16th, Mary’s commissioners delivered their formal written reply to Moray’s written complaint of 10 and 14 October. They said that, if Bothwell was the murderer of the King, that circumstance had been unknown to Mary at the time of their marriage, and that the Lords who afterwards accused him of that crime had urged her to marry him; furthermore, the marriage had taken place after his acquittal. Later, these same Lords had never made any serious attempt to apprehend Bothwell. At Carberry Hill, misled by Grange’s fair words, Mary had entrusted herself to the honour and loyalty of her Lords, but had been miserably deceived. It was stressed that she had abdicated only after being threatened with execution.

This, of course, was the truth, and it complicated matters. That day, Norfolk wrote to Cecil that this cause was the doubtfulest and dangerest that ever I dealt in; if you saw and heard the constant affirming of both sides, not without great stoutness, you would wonder! You shall find in the end [that] as there be some few in this company that mean plainly and truly, so there be others that seek wholly to serve their own private turns.

Norfolk himself would shortly be numbered among the latter. Later that day, whilst hawking at Cawood, Maitland sought him out in private and informed him that the Casket Letters had almost certainly been forged, since many people could imitate Mary’s handwriting; he had even occasionally done it himself. This revelation, startling as it was, was but a preamble to the real purpose of the meeting. For Maitland had thought of a solution to the present impasse, and suggested to a highly receptive Norfolk that it might be to his advantage to consider marriage with the Queen of Scots; he was certain that, if she married the premier English Protestant peer, the Lords would be willing to restore her to her throne. Later on, Mary, or her heir, might inherit the English crown, Maitland’s dream of an Anglo-Scottish dynastic alliance would become reality, and he himself would prosper under a grateful sovereign, having expunged his earlier crimes.

The fact that Norfolk was prepared to contemplate such a marriage—or was dazzled by the prospect of the crown of Scotland and also, perhaps, that of England—suggests that he was not as shocked by the Casket Letters as some historians have believed. He was possibly reassured by Maitland’s revelation that they had been forged; on the other hand, he may not have cared too much, given what he stood to gain by this proposed union. Indeed, he would give everyone cause to believe he still thought Mary guilty.

However, Norfolk was also aware that there was a clause in his commission that threatened anyone contemplating marrying Mary with a traitor’s death. It was this that held him back from giving Maitland a final answer. However, he did reveal that Elizabeth had no intention of restoring Mary or finding her guilty; all she desired, he told Maitland, was an excuse to keep the Queen of Scots a prisoner in England. Then, if in the future she wished to restore her, there would be no bar to her doing so. Maitland told Norfolk he should inform Moray of Elizabeth’s intentions, for if Moray thought there was any chance of Mary’s restoration, he would not dare to produce any evidence against her. This would have suited Maitland very well.
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Maitland saw to it that a rumour of the proposed marriage was disseminated amongst the commissioners at York, and one morning a hopeful Leslie presented himself at Norfolk’s lodging, asking the Duke to confirm the bruit that he bore a certain goodwill towards Queen Mary. Around this time, Norfolk—who now had a very good reason for wanting Mary cleared of murder— took Maitland’s advice and told Moray that, “albeit the Queen had done, or suffered harm to be done, to the King her husband,” for the sake of her son, he did not wish to see “our future Queen,” accused or dishonoured. He said that, although he had been sent to hear Moray’s accusation, neither he nor Elizabeth would pass any sentence on her, and he urged Moray not to use the Casket Letters as evidence. Moray told no one of this except Maitland and Melville;
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he was now more uncertain than ever as to whether he dared produce the Casket Letters before the commission.

Elizabeth was becoming increasingly unhappy about the way things were going at York. There were too many intrigues behind the scenes, which were causing unnecessary delays. Moray, although he was determined to keep Mary out of Scotland, seemed reluctant to produce any evidence against her. By 16 October, Elizabeth was thinking of adjourning the conference to Westminster, where she and Cecil could keep a close watch on things, and on that day, she sent orders to Norfolk to adjourn the proceedings so that she could lay the issues he had raised before the Privy Council; she also summoned representatives of each party to London “to resolve her of certain difficulties that did arise” between them. She also wanted to find out why Moray and his colleagues forbore “to charge the Queen with guiltiness of the murder.” Three days later, the Queen’s orders and summons reached York, and it was agreed that Maitland, MacGill, Leslie and Kilwinning should go to London. They left on 22 October.