Letter II.

The Lords did by no means make public use, at first, of the Letters which they had found, and were possibly garbling. We shall later make it clear, it is a new point, that, on the very day of the reading, the Lords sent Robert Melville post haste to Elizabeth, doubtless with verbal information about their discovery. Leaving Edinburgh on June 21, the day of the discovery, Melville was in London on June 23 or 24, dispatched his business, and was in Berwick again on June 28. He carried letters for Moray in France, but, for some reason, perhaps because the letters were delayed or intercepted, Moray had to be summoned again. Meanwhile the Lords, otherwise, kept their own counsel.[212] For reasons of policy they let their good fortune ooze out by degrees.

On June 25, Drury, writing from Berwick, reports that ‘the Queen has had a _box_,’ containing papers about her intrigues with France. ‘It is promised Drury to have his part of it.’ This rumour of a ‘box’ _may_ refer to the capture of the Casket.[213] On June 29, Drury again wrote about the ‘box,’ and the MSS. in it, ‘part in cipher deciphered.’ Whether this ‘box’ was the Casket, a false account of its contents being given to Drury, is uncertain. We hear no more of it, nor of any of Mary’s own papers and letters to her: no letters to her from Bothwell are reported.

The earliest known decided reference to the Letters is that of the Spanish Ambassador, de Silva, writing from London on July 12, 1567. He says that du Croc, the French Ambassador to Mary, has passed through town on his return from Scotland. The French Ambassador in London, La Forest, reports to de Silva that Mary’s ‘adversaries assert positively that they know she had been concerned in the murder of her husband, which was proved by letters under her own hand, copies of which were in his [whose?] possession.’[214] Major Martin Hume writes, in his Preface to the Calendar, ‘The many arguments against their genuineness, founded upon the long delay in their production, thus disappear.’

It does not necessarily follow, however, that the letters of which du Croc probably carried copies (unless La Forest merely bragged falsely, to vex his Spanish fellow diplomatist) were either wholly genuine, or were identical with the letters later produced. It is by no means certain that Lethington and Sir James Balfour had not access, before June 21, to the Casket, which was in Balfour’s keeping, within Edinburgh Castle. Randolph later wrote (as we have already seen) that the pair had opened a little ‘coffer,’ with a green cloth cover, and taken out the band (which the pair had signed) for Darnley’s murder.[215] Whether the Casket was thus early tampered with is uncertain. But, as to du Croc’s copies of the Letters, the strong point, for the accusers, is, that, when the Letters were published, in Scots, Latin, and French, four years later, we do not hear that any holders of du Croc’s copies made any stir, or alleged that the copies did not tally with those now printed, in 1571-1573, by Mary’s enemies. This point must be kept steadily in mind, as it is perhaps the chief objection to the theory which we are about to offer. But, on November 29, 1568, when Mary’s accusers were gathered in London to attack her at the Westminster Conference, La Forest’s successor, La Mothe Fénelon, writes to Charles IX. that they pretend to possess incriminating letters ‘_escriptes et signées de sa main_;’ written and _signed_ by her hand. Our _copies_ are certainly not signed, which, in itself, proves little or nothing, but Mary’s contemporary defenders, Lesley and Blackwood, urge that there was not even a pretence that the Letters were signed, and this plea of theirs was not answered.

My point, however, is that though La Forest, according to de Silva, had copies in July 1567, his successor at the English Court, doubtless well instructed, knows nothing about them, as far as his despatch shows. But he does say that the accusers are in search of evidence to prove the Letters authentic, not forged.[216] He says (November 28) to Catherine de’ Medici, that he thinks the proofs of Mary’s accusers ‘very slender and extremely impertinent,’ and he has been consulted by Mary’s Commissioners.[217]

Of course it is possible that La Mothe Fénelon was not made acquainted with what his predecessor, La Forest, knew: but this course of secretiveness would not have been judicious. For the rest, the Court of France was not in the habit of replying to pamphlets, like that which contained copies of the Letters. It is unlikely that the copies given to La Forest were destroyed, but we have no hint or trace of them in France. Conceivably even if they differed (as we are to argue that they perhaps did) from the Letters later produced, the differences, though proof of tampering, did not redound to Mary’s glory. At the time when France was negotiating Alençon’s marriage with Elizabeth, and a Franco-English alliance (January-July, 1572), in a wild maze of international, personal, and religious intrigue, while Catherine de’ Medici was wavering between massacre of the Huguenots and alliance with them, it is far from inconceivable that La Forest’s copies of the Letters were either overlooked, or not critically and studiously compared with the copies now published. To vex Elizabeth by criticism of two sets of copies of Letters was certainly not then the obvious policy of France: though the published Letters were thrust on the French statesmen.

The letters of La Mothe Fénelon, and of Charles IX., on the subject of Buchanan’s ‘Detection,’ contain no hint that they thought the Letters, therein published, spurious. They only resent their publication against a crowned Queen.[218] The reader, then, must decide for himself whether La Forest’s copies, if extant, were likely to be critically scanned and compared with the published Letters, in 1571, or in the imbroglio of 1572; and whether it is likely that, if this was done, and if the two copies did not tally, French statesmen thought that, in the circumstances, when Elizabeth was to be propitiated, and the Huguenots were not to be offended, it was worth while to raise a critical question. If any one thinks that this course of conduct--the critical comparison of La Forest’s copies with the published copies, and the remonstrance founded on any discrepancies detected--was the natural inevitable course of French statecraft, at the juncture--then he must discredit my hypothesis. For my hypothesis is, that the Letters extant in June and July, 1567, were not wholly identical with the Letters produced in December, 1568, and later published. It is hazarded without much confidence, but certain circumstances suggest that it may possibly be correct.

To return to the management of the Letters in June-July, 1567. The Lords, Mary’s enemies, while perpetually protesting their extreme reluctance to publish Letters to Mary’s discredit, had now sent the rumour of them all through Europe. Spain, and de Silva, were at that time far from friendly to Mary. On July 21, 1567, de Silva writes: ‘I mentioned to the Queen [Elizabeth] that I had been told that the Lords held certain letters proving that the Queen [Mary] had been cognisant of the murder of her husband.’ (The Letters, if they prove anything, prove more than that.) ‘She told me it was not true, _although Lethington had acted badly in the matter_, and if she saw him she would say something that would not be at all to his taste.’ Thus Elizabeth had heard the story about Letters (from Robert Melville, as we indicate later?) and--what had she heard about Lethington?[219] On June 21, the very day of the first inspection of the Letters, Lethington had written to Cecil.[220] On June 28, Lethington tells Cecil that, by Robert Melville’s letters, he understands Cecil’s ‘good acceptance of these noblemen’s quarrel’ for punishment of Darnley’s murder and preservation of the Prince, ‘and her Majesty’s’ (Elizabeth’s) ‘gentle answer by Cecil’s furtherance.’[221] Yet, to de Silva, Elizabeth presently denounced the ill behaviour of Lethington in the matter, and, appearing to desire Mary’s safety, she sent Throckmorton to act in her cause. To the Lords and Lethington, by Robert Melville, she sent a gentle answer: Melville acting for the Lords. To Mary she averred (June 30) that Melville ‘used much earnest speech on your behalf’ (probably accusing Lethington of fraud as to the Letters), ‘yet such is the general report of you to the contrary ... that we could not be satisfied by him.’[222] Melville, we must remember, was acting for the Lords, but he is described as ‘heart and soul Mary’s.’ He carried the Lords’ verbal report of the Letters--but he also discredited it, blaming Lethington. Why did he not do so publicly? At the time it was unsafe: later he and Lethington were allies in the last stand of Mary’s party.

We do not know how much Elizabeth knew, or had been told; or how much she believed, or what she meant, by her denunciation of Lethington, as regards his conduct in the affair of the Letters. But we do know that, on June 30, the Lords gave the lie, as in later proclamations they repeatedly did, to their own story that they had learned the whole secret of Mary’s guilt on June 21. On June 30, they issued, under Mary’s name, and under her signet, a summons against Bothwell, for Darnley’s murder, and ‘for taking the Queen’s most noble person by force to her Castle of Dunbar, detaining her, _and for fear of her life making her promise to marry him_.’[223] The Lords of Council in Edinburgh, at this time, were Morton (confessedly privy to the murder, and confessedly banded with Bothwell to enable him to marry Mary), Lethington, a signer of the band for Darnley’s murder; Balfour, who knew all; Atholl, Home, James Makgill, and the Justice Clerk, Bellenden--who had been in trouble for Riccio’s murder.[224] The same men, several guilty, were spreading _privately_ the rumour of Mary’s wicked Letters: and, at the same hour, were _publicly_ absolving her, in their summons to Bothwell. As late as July 14, they spoke to Throckmorton of Mary, ‘with respect and reverence,’ while alleging that ‘for the Lord Bothwell she would leave her kingdom and dignity to live as a simple damsel with him.’ Who can believe one word that such men spoke?

They assured Throckmorton that du Croc ‘carried with him matter little to the Queen’s’ (Mary’s) ‘advantage:’ possibly, though not certainly, an allusion to his copies of the Letters of her whom they spoke of ‘with respect and reverence,’ and promised ‘to restore to her estate’--if she would abandon Bothwell.[225]

‘I never saw greater confusion among men,’ says Throckmorton, ‘for often they change their opinions.’ They were engaged in ‘continual preaching and common prayer.’ On July 21, they assured Elizabeth that Mary was forced to be Bothwell’s wife ‘by fear and other unlawful means,’ and that he kept his former wife in his house, and would not have allowed Mary to live with him for half a year. Yet Mary was so infatuated that, after her surrender, ‘he offered to give up realm and all, so she might enjoy him.’ This formula, we shall see later, the Lords placed thrice in Mary’s mouth, first in a reported letter of January, 1567 (never produced), next in a letter of Kirkcaldy to Cecil (April 20), and now (July 21).[226]

At this time of Throckmorton’s mission, Lethington posed to him thus. ‘Do you not see that it does not lie in my power to do that I would fainest do, which is to save the Queen, my mistress, in estate, person, and in honour?’ He declared that the preachers, the populace, and the chief nobles wished to take Mary’s life.[227] Lethington thus drove his bargain with Throckmorton. ‘If Elizabeth interferes,’ he said in sum, ‘Mary dies, despite my poor efforts, and Elizabeth loses the Scottish Alliance.’ But Throckmorton believed that Lethington really laboured to secure Mary’s life and honour. His true object was to keep her immured. Randolph, as we saw, accuses him to his face of advising Mary’s execution, or assassination. By his present course with Throckmorton he kept Elizabeth’s favour: he gave himself out as Mary’s friend.

The Lords at last made up their minds. On July 25, Lindsay was sent to Loch Leven to extort Mary’s abdication, consent to the coronation of her son, and appointment of Moray, or failing him, other nobles, to the Regency. ‘If they cannot by fair means induce the Queen to their purpose, they mean to charge her with tyranny for breach of those statutes which were enacted in her absence. Secondly they mean to charge her with incontinence with Bothwell, and others. Thirdly, they mean to charge her with the murder of her husband, _whereof they say they have proof by the testimony of her own handwriting_, which they have recovered, as also by sufficient _witnesses_.’ The witnesses were dropped. Probably they were ready to swear that Mary was at the murder in male costume, as in a legend of the Lennox Papers! Lethington brought this news to Throckmorton between ten and eleven at night.[228] It was the friendly Lethington who told Throckmorton about the guilty Letters.

The Lords had, at last, decided to make use of the Letters attributed to Mary, and of the ‘witnesses,’ and by these, or other modes of coercion, they extorted her assent (valueless, so Throckmorton and Robert Melville let her know, because she was a prisoner) to their proposals.[229] Despite their knowledge of the Letters, the Lords, in proclamations, continued to aver that Bothwell had ravished her by fear, force, and other unlawful means, the very means of coercing Mary which they themselves were employing. The brutality, hypocrisy, and low vacillating cunning of the Lords, must not blind us to the fact that they certainly, since late in June, held new cards, genuine or packed.

It is undeniable that the first notices of the Letters, by de Silva, prove that the Lords, about the date assigned by Morton, did actually possess themselves of useful documents. Their vacillations as to how and when they would play these cards are easily explained. Their first care was to prejudice the Courts of France, Spain, and Elizabeth against Mary by circulating the tale of their discovery. If they had published the papers at once, they might then have proceeded to try and to execute, perhaps (as the Highland seeress predicted) to _burn_ Mary. The preachers urged them to severity, but some of them were too politic to proceed to extremes, which might bring in Elizabeth and France as avengers. But, if Mary was to be spared in life, to publish the Letters at once would ruin their value as an ‘awe-bond.’ They could only be used as a means of coercing Mary, while they were unknown to the world at large. If the worst was known, Mary would face it boldly. Only while the worst was not generally known could the Letters be used to ‘blackmail’ her. Whether the Letters were, in fact, employed to extort Mary’s abdication is uncertain. She was advised, as we said, by Throckmorton and Robert Melville, that her signature, while a captive, was legally invalid, so she signed the deeds of abdication, regency, and permission to crown her son. For the moment, till Moray arrived, and a Parliament was held, the Lords needed no more. Throckmorton believed that he had saved Mary’s life: and Robert Melville plainly told Elizabeth so.[230]

Thus it is clear that the Lords held documents, genuine, or forged, or in part authentic, in part falsified. Their evasive use of the papers, their self-contradictions in their proclamations, do not disprove this fact. But were the documents those which they finally published? This question, on which we may have new light to throw, demands a separate investigation.

X

_THE CASKET LETTERS_

II. A POSSIBLY FORGED LETTER

Were the documents in the possession of the Lords, after June 21, those which they later exhibited before Elizabeth’s Commissioners at Westminster (December, 1568)? Here we reach perhaps the most critical point in the whole inquiry. A Letter to Bothwell, attributed to Mary, was apparently in the hands of the Lords (1567-1568), a Letter which was highly compromising, _but never was publicly produced_. We first hear of this Letter by a report of Moray to de Silva, repeated by de Silva to Philip of Spain (July, 1567).

Before going further we must examine Moray’s probable sources of information as to Mary’s correspondence. From April 7, to the beginning of July, he had been out of Scotland: first in England; later on the Continent. As early as May 8, Kirkcaldy desired Bedford to forward a letter to Moray, bidding him come to Normandy, in readiness to return, (and aid the Lords,) now banding against Bothwell.[231] ‘He will haste him after he has seen it.’ Moray did not ‘haste him,’ his hour had not come. He was, however, in touch with his party. On July 8, a fortnight after the discovery of the Casket, Robert Melville, at ‘Kernye’ in Fife, sends ‘Jhone a Forret’ to Cecil. John is to go on to Moray, and (Lethington adds, on July 9) a packet of letters for Moray is to be forwarded ‘with the greatest diligence that may be.’ Melville says, as to ‘Jhone a Forret’ (whom Cecil, in his endorsement, calls ‘Jhon of Forrest’), ‘Credit the bearer, who knows all occurrents.’ Can ‘Jhone a Forret’ be a cant punning name for John Wood, sometimes called ‘John a Wood,’ by the English, a man whom Cecil knew as Moray’s secretary? John Wood was a Fifeshire man, a son of Sir Andrew Wood of Largo, and from Fife Melville was writing. Jhone a Forret is, at all events, a bearer whom, as he ‘knows all occurents,’ Cecil is to credit.[232] This Wood is the very centre of the secret dealings of Mary’s enemies, of the Lords, and Lennox. Cecil, Elizabeth, and Leicester are asked to ‘credit’ him, later, as Cecil ‘credited’ ‘Jhone a Forret.’

Up to this date (July 8) when letters were sent by the Lords to Moray, he was, or feigned to be, friendly to his sister. On that day a messenger of his, from France, was with Elizabeth, who told Cecil that Moray was vexed by Mary’s captivity in Loch Leven, and that he would be ‘her true servant in all fortunes.’ He was sending letters to Mary, which the Lords were not to see.[233] His messenger was Nicholas Elphinstone, who was not allowed to give Mary his letters.[234] After receiving the letters sent to him from Scotland on July 8, Moray turned his back on his promises of service to Mary. But, before he received these letters, Archbishop Beaton had told Alava that Moray was his sister’s mortal enemy and by him mistrusted.[235] Moray’s professions to Elizabeth may have been a blind, but his letters for Mary’s private eye have a more genuine air.

Moray arrived in England on July 23.

About July 22, Mary’s confessor, Roche Mameret, a Dominican, had come to London. He was much grieved, he said to de Silva, by Mary’s marriage with Bothwell, which, as he had told her, was illegal. ‘He swore to me solemnly that, till the question of the marriage with Bothwell was raised, he never saw a woman of greater virtue, courage, and uprightness....’ Apparently he knew nothing of the guilty loves, and the Exchequer House scandal. ‘She swore to him that she had contracted the marriage’ with the object of settling religion by that means, though Bothwell was so stout a Protestant that he had twice married Catholic brides by Protestant rites! ‘As regarded the King’s murder, her confessor has told me’ (de Silva) ‘that she had no knowledge whatever of it.’ Now de Silva imparted this fact to Moray, when he visited London, as we saw, in the end of July, 1567, and after Moray had seen Elizabeth. He gave de Silva the impression that ‘although he always returned to his desire to help the Queen, this is not altogether his intention.’ Finally, Moray told de Silva ‘something that he had not even told this Queen, although she had given him many remote hints upon the subject.’ The secret was that Mary had been cognisant of Darnley’s murder. ‘This had been proved beyond doubt by a letter which the Queen had written to Bothwell, containing more than three double sheets (_pliegos_) of paper, written with her own hand and _signed_ with her name; in which she says in substance that he is not to delay putting into execution that which he had been ordered (_tenia ordenado_), because her husband used such fair words to deceive her, and bring her to his will, that she might be moved by them if the other thing were not done quickly. She said that she herself would go and fetch him [Darnley], and would stop at a house on the road where she would try to give him a draught; but if this could not be done, she would put him in the house _where the explosion was arranged for the night upon which one of her servants was to be married_. He, Bothwell, was to try to get rid of his wife either by putting her away or poisoning her, since he knew that she, the Queen, had risked all for him, her honour, her kingdom, her wealth, _which she had in France_, and her God; contenting herself with his person alone.... Moray said he had heard of this letter from a man who had read it....’[236]

As to ‘hearing of’ this epistle, the reader may judge whether, when the Lords sent ‘Jhone a Forret’ (probably John Wood) to Moray, and also sent a packet of letters, they did not enclose copies of the Casket Letters as they then existed. Is it probable that they put Moray off with the mere hearsay of Jhone a Forret, who ‘knows all occurrents’? If so, Jhone, and Moray, and de Silva, as we shall prove, had wonderfully good verbal memories, like Chicot when he carried in his head the Latin letter of Henri III. to Henri of Navarre.

Mr. Froude first quoted de Silva’s report of Moray’s report of this bloodthirsty letter of Mary’s: and declared that Moray described accurately the long Glasgow Letter (Letter II.).[237] But Moray, as Mr. Hosack proved, described a letter totally and essentially different from