Mary Queen of Scotland & the Isles (159 page)

The men filed solemnly into the chamber at York by a strange
coincidence, the very same one that had been refurbished by Henry VIII
to receive James V at a projected meeting in 1541. The Scots King had
avoided the meeting, for fear of being kidnapped; now his captive
daughter's fate was to be determined there. They settled themselves on
long benches and shuffled their papers, and tried to look grim and
determined. But soon smiles were breaking out; these men had long
known one another and were comfortable together.

"Sadler! How fares your daughter, the one who had a mind to marry a
clergyman?" asked Lord James. Sadler had long been involved in
Scottish affairs.

"Well, I thank you. And how is your dear wife? Ah, Lord Boyd!" Much
discussion ensued about the correct procedure, and what might be
entered as evidence. Mary's commissioners presented a "book of
complaints" for the Lord James's side. Lord James demurred about his
evidence, and pulled the silver casket out and placed it reverently on
the table. But he declined to open it, merely making Morton describe
how it had come into their possession. It sat there, tantalizingly.

Late at night the English delegation was startled to hear a knock on
their chamber doors. It was Maitland, who asked in a low voice if any
of them would care to examine the letters from the casket unofficially,
of course? They all said yes, and Maitland brought them copies. The
men huddled over them in the candlelight, reading them and clucking.

"There are most horrible and bloody," murmured Norfolk. "Foul and
abominable!" He continued reading, avidly.

During the day, between a discussion of the legitimacy of Lord James's
Regency and the hereditary rights of the Hamiltons, which had been set
aside by it, Maitland plucked gently on Norfolk's sleeve and suggested
that they ride for a bit. The autumn was at its golden best, fat and
full in the fields.

"Yorkshire is a magnificent tract of country," said Maitland. He hoped
that Norfolk would agree to ride with him. And more than that, he
hoped he would listen to what he, Maitland, was about to propose.

Maitland realized it was time that the "casket letters" were put in
their proper perspective, and he hoped there was a way to do it
delicately, without calling his fellow Lords out-and-out liars. Which
they were, of course. Maitland had come to know them all too well in
the past two years, and what he had found out saddened him.

For all that I like to think of myself as hardened to the failings of
people, I realize now I am more of an idealist than I thought. The
Lords broke all their promises to the Queen, and showed themselves
morally worse than she was, whatever her sins of the flesh. Isn't it
held that Christ was more lenient with those sins than with the ones of
pride and greed? he thought.

"Indeed, yes, and at this time of year it comes close to being
friendly," said Norfolk. He looked eager to make the trip.

They rode out beyond the high walls of the city, and took their horses
along the River Ouse, with a mind to go hawking. The weather a gold
and blue day seemed perfect for such an outing. They let the birds go,
little caring if they captured anything, just happy to watch them
soar.

"How hard it must be for these birds to stay captive on their perches,"
said Maitland. He watched the Duke as he said it. But there was no
hint of understanding on the Duke's blank face. The Duke was noted for
being only somewhat more perceptive than the oxen of his farmers.

"Yes. They are difficult to train," he said, his thick lips moving
slowly.

"Think how much more painful it is for a golden eagle to be taken from
his skies and made a captive to man."

"Fortunately there are not many of them, as only a king can hunt with
an eagle. The rest of us even dukes must make do with falcons or
hawks. Even dukes like me, who have more territory than some kings!"
He nodded. "I have over six hundred square miles in my possession, you
know, and sometimes I feel more of a king there than a real king must
feel."

The hawks had flown so far away now that they were just black specks on
the brilliant blue sky. A breeze was rustling the leaves on the trees
down by the riverbank, and they sounded like scribes gathering up
papers.

"Perhaps you could be " No, that was too blatant. "Dear Norfolk, as
the greatest peer in England, doubtless you have spent much time in
pondering the future of the country in which your ancestors have been
so influential." Maitland coughed gently. "I myself have long had one
vision that England and Scotland be united. Not by the sword, as in
time past tyrants tried to wield, but by peaceful means. It is so
clear that a union of the crowns is in the best interests of both
realms!"

"A united kingdom, stretching from Dover to the Shetlands yes, it would
be a strong country," the Duke agreed.

"Otherwise we cannot hope to hold our own. I tell you frankly, now
that guns have rendered the longbow obsolete, we are at a severe
disadvantage against France, with its larger land and population. As a
small nation, we are vulnerable. My dream is to see us become as
strong as possible."

A couple of hunters passed by on foot, their dogs scampering on ahead
of them, splashing through the water. They removed their caps and
nodded to Maitland and the Duke.

The Duke's eyes were wandering. He still had not taken the bait.

"Let me speak frankly again," Maitland persisted. "If you would marry
the Queen of Scots, all these thorny questions would be settled."

"What thorny questions?"

"The succession. The reluctance of Queen Elizabeth to marry. The
obvious incapacity of Queen Mary to rule Scotland alone. The scandal
to the crown." He paused. "Shall I be completely specific? Queen
Elizabeth is likely to have no heir; she is already thirty-five and
shows no inclination to marry. The nearest Protestant successor was
Catherine Grey, but she recently died. The English people will not
have a Catholic queen, Mary Stuart or any other. But if she were
married to an English Protestant, that would content them; it would, in
effect, dilute her Catholicism. Do you see?"

"Yeeess," he finally said.

"Her child, James, is not Catholic and therefore could succeed. Or any
children you would have together. The Lords of the Congregation will
never let her rule in Scotland again; indeed, how could they? Her
reign has proved nothing but tumult and upheavals, and if she were
free, she would just send for Bothwell again, and the Lords cannot
tolerate him. But, released in the custody of yourself "

"But she is a murderess!" said Norfolk. "I have no wish to live with
a murderess!"

"How do you know she is a murderess?"

"Because of those letters! They were foul, disgusting things! And in
your indictment of her, the one prepared by Buchanan, you describe her
abusing her body with Bothwell. No, I could never touch such a woman!"
"Ah, those letters ..." Maitland laughed. "Lord Morton swears they
were found as he described, but the truth is we have no way of knowing
what exactly he found. He has had more than a year to prepare the
contents of the casket. They are only as reliable as Morton is
honest."

The Duke began to bite the inside of his lip. "Which is not very."

"An understatement. I know the casket contained other letters as well,
ones that Morton did not see fit to show us at the time, but which were
most likely love letters from that Throndsen woman."

"What Throndsen woman?"

Did Norfolk know nothing? thought Maitland.

"Bothwell's Norwegian mistress who, after being cast away, had what
every discarded mistress in the world can only dream of: complete
revenge," he explained.

"How? Did she give him syphilis?"

God, Norfolk was stupid! "Of course not," said Maitland carefully. "In
that case her happiness would be blighted by the fact that she herself
had the disease. No, the fates acted as her avenger. First the west
wind blew Bothwell onto the coast of Norway, and then events so
arranged themselves that Bothwell had to submit to an investigation by
the Viceroy of Norway, Erik Rosenkrantz, in Bergen, before being
permitted to proceed on his journey. And that official happened to be
Anna Throndsen's cousin, and when the court asked anyone with a
grievance or debt against Bothwell to come forward, why, just as
Bothwell was thinking himself safe, in came Anna! In came Anna and out
went his chance of freedom."

"My God!" Norfolk looked stunned.

"For the hearing with Anna delayed his departure long enough that other
questions could be raised before he could slip away. He was sent to
Denmark for further questioning. And now he's languishing in prison in
Malmo, awaiting the Danish king's pleasure."

"So that's why Bothwell is in gaol! That's how they got him!"

"Fate, Norfolk, fate. His deeds pursued him and there was no escape.
And thus Anna has injured him in Scandinavia and then again in
Scotland. For Bothwell kept her letters against just such an occasion,
doubtless as evidence to show how temperamental and demanding she was,
in case there was ever any question of his treatment of her. Then they
fell into the hands of his enemies, Morton and the rest. Make of that
what you will."

"Ah."

"Just remember, all the casket letters have been copied several times
over. The ones you saw are not the originals. Easy enough to weave in
some phrases from the Throndsen woman, along with a few of Morton's
ideas."

He paused for breath. He was not absolutely sure that was what had
happened, but all evidence pointed that way. The phrasing in the
letters the Lords chose to exhibit was too variable, the style
blatantly changed from one paragraph to the next, and some expressions
and feelings were incompatible with what Maitland knew of the Queen's
temperament. She was passionate, she was impulsive, God knew she could
become stormy and angry, but she never whined or whimpered, and she
never debased herself.

Norfolk was looking confused. "But "

"And even if the Queen was a murderess, it was with just cause,"
continued Maitland. "She had loved the Lord Darnley and heaped honours
upon him, but he repaid her by unfaithfulness and public drunkenness.
No woman of spirit should be expected meekly to endure that! Think you
Queen Elizabeth would tolerate that for a moment?"

The Duke laughed. "No, indeed!"

"Think of it, Norfolk! Think of the duty you would render the two
realms, and the peace of mind you would confer on your own Queen and
give longed-for freedom to the other one! And she would have a husband
worthy of her noble self at last."

After her usual spare dinner, Elizabeth spent some time reading Roman
history before summoning Cecil. She always found history soothing,
reminding her that the best way to master present history was to be
aware of what was happening, and always think carefully before
acting.

She stretched her legs out before the aromatic fire, which was burning
hot and silently, and lost herself in her reading. Only reluctantly
did she finally put the book aside and call for Cecil.