Mary, Queen of Scots (35 page)

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;
²⁵
guess 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 trouble
²⁶
if 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 nature
²⁷
and 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.