Mary Queen of Scots Part 3

Mary, however, found that it was in vain for her to resist the influences which pressed upon her the necessity of returning to her native land. She wandered about during the spring and summer after her husband's death, spending her time in various palaces and abbeys, and at length she began to prepare for her return to Scotland. The same gentleness and loveliness of character which she had exhibited in her prosperous fortunes, shone still more conspicuously now in her hours of sorrow. Sometimes she appeared in public, in certain ceremonies of state. She was then dressed in mourning--in white--according to the custom in royal families in those days, her dark hair covered by a delicate c.r.a.pe veil. Her beauty, softened and chastened by her sorrows, made a strong impression upon all who saw her.

She appeared so frequently, and attracted so much attention in her white mourning, that she began to be known among the people as the White Queen. Every body wanted to see her. They admired her beauty; they were impressed with the romantic interest of her history; they pitied her sorrows. She mourned her husband's death with deep and unaffected grief. She invented a device and motto for a seal, appropriate to the occasion: it was a figure of the liquorice-tree, every part of which is useless except the root, which, of course, lies beneath the surface of the earth. Underneath was the inscription, in Latin, _My treasure is in the ground_. The expression is much more beautiful in the Latin than can be expressed in any English words.[D]

[Footnote D: Dulce meum terra tegit.]

Mary did not, however, give herself up to sullen and idle grief, but employed herself in various studies and pursuits, in order to soothe and solace her grief by useful occupation. She read Latin authors; she studied poetry; she composed. She paid much attention to music, and charmed those who were in her company by the sweet tones of her voice and her skillful performance upon an instrument. The historians even record a description of the fascinating effect produced by the graceful movements of her beautiful hand. Whatever she did or said seemed to carry with it an inexpressible charm.

Before she set out on her return to Scotland she went to pay a visit to her grandmother, the same lady whom her mother had gone to see in her castle, ten years before, on her return to Scotland after her visit to Mary. During this ten years the unhappy mourner had made no change in respect to her symbols of grief. The apartments of her palace were still hung with black. Her countenance wore the same expression of austerity and woe. Her attendants were trained to pay to her every mark of the most profound deference in all their approaches to her. No sounds of gayety or pleasure were to be heard, but a profound stillness and solemnity reigned continually throughout the gloomy mansion.

Not long before the arrangements were completed for Mary's return to Scotland, she revisited Paris, where she was received with great marks of attention and honor. She was now eighteen or nineteen years of age, in the bloom of her beauty, and the monarch of a powerful kingdom, to which she was about to return, and many of the young princes of Europe began to aspire to the honor of her hand. Through these and other influences, she was the object of much attention; while, on the other hand, Queen Catharine, and the party in power at the French court, were envious and jealous of her popularity, and did a great deal to mortify and vex her.

The enemy, however, whom Mary had most to fear, was her cousin, Queen Elizabeth of England. Queen Elizabeth was a maiden lady, now nearly thirty years of age. She was in all respects extremely different from Mary. She was a zealous Protestant, and very suspicious and watchful in respect to Mary, on account of her Catholic connections and faith. She was very plain in person, and unprepossessing in manners. She was, however, intelligent and shrewd, and was governed by calculations and policy in all that she did. The people by whom she was surrounded admired her talents and feared her power, but n.o.body loved her. She had many good qualities as a monarch, but none considered as a woman.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PORTRAIT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH.]

Elizabeth was somewhat envious of her cousin Mary's beauty, and of her being such an object of interest and affection to all who knew her.

But she had a far more serious and permanent cause of alienation from her than personal envy. It was this: Elizabeth's father, King Henry VIII., had, in succession, several wives, and there had been a question raised about the legality of his marriage with Elizabeth's mother. Parliament decided at one time that this marriage was not valid; at another time, subsequently, they decided that it was.

This difference in the two decisions was not owing so much to a change of sentiment in the persons who voted, as to a change in the ascendency of the parties by which the decision was controlled. If the marriage were valid, then Elizabeth was ent.i.tled to the English crown.

If it were not valid, then she was not ent.i.tled to it: it belonged to the next heir. Now it happened that Mary Queen of Scots was the next heir. Her grandmother on the father's side was an English princess, and through her Mary had a just t.i.tle to the crown, if Queen Elizabeth's t.i.tle was annulled.

Now, while Mary was in France, during the lifetime of King Henry, Francis's father, he and the members of the family of Guise advanced Mary's claim to the British crown, and denied that of Elizabeth. They made a coat of arms, in which the arms of France, and Scotland, and England were combined, and had it engraved on Mary's silver plate. On one great occasion, they had this symbol displayed conspicuously over the gateway of a town where Mary was making a public entry. The English emba.s.sador, who was present, made this, and the other acts of the same kind, known to Elizabeth, and she was greatly incensed at them. She considered Mary as plotting treasonably against her power, and began to contrive plans to circ.u.mvent and thwart her.

Nor was Elizabeth wholly unreasonable in this. Mary, though personally a gentle and peaceful woman, yet in her teens, was very formidable to Elizabeth as an opposing claimant of the crown. All the Catholics in France and in Scotland would naturally take Mary's side.

Then, besides this, there was a large Catholic party in England, who would be strongly disposed to favor any plan which should give them a Catholic monarch. Elizabeth was, therefore, very justly alarmed at such a claim on the part of her cousin. It threatened not only to expose her to the aggressions of foreign foes, but also to internal commotions and dangers, in her own dominions.

The chief responsibility for bringing forward this claim must rest undoubtedly, not on Mary herself, but on King Henry of France and the other French princes, who first put it forward. Mary, however, herself, was not entirely pa.s.sive in the affair. She liked to consider herself as ent.i.tled to the English crown. She had a device for a seal, a very favorite one with her, which expressed this claim.

It contained two crowns, with a motto in Latin below which meant, "_A third awaits me_." Elizabeth knew all these things, and she held Mary accountable for all the anxiety and alarm which this dangerous claim occasioned her.

At the peace which was made in Scotland between the French and English forces and the Scotch, by the great treaty of Edinburgh which has been already described, it was agreed that Mary should relinquish all claim to the crown of England. This treaty was brought to France for Mary to ratify it, but she declined. Whatever rights she might have to the English crown, she refused to surrender them. Things remained in this state until the time arrived for her return to her native land, and then, fearing that perhaps Elizabeth might do something to intercept her pa.s.sage, she applied to her for a safe-conduct; that is, a writing authorizing her to pa.s.s safely and without hinderance through the English dominions, whether land or sea. Queen Elizabeth returned word through her emba.s.sador in Paris, whose name was Throckmorton, that she could not give her any such safe-conduct, because she had refused to ratify the treaty of Edinburgh.

When this answer was communicated to Mary, she felt deeply wounded by it. She sent all the attendants away, that she might express herself to Throckmorton without reserve. She told him that it seemed to her very hard that her cousin was disposed to prevent her return to her native land. As to her claim upon the English crown, she said that advancing it was not her plan, but that of her husband and his father; and that now she could not properly renounce it, whatever its validity might be, till she could have opportunity to return to Scotland and consult with her government there, since it affected not her personally alone, but the public interests of Scotland. "And now," she continued, in substance, "I am sorry that I asked such a favor of her. I have no need to ask it, for I am sure I have a right to return from France to my own country without asking permission of any one. You have often told me that the queen wished to be on friendly terms with me, and that it was your opinion that to be friends would be best for us both. But now I see that she is not of your mind, but is disposed to treat me in an unkind and unfriendly manner, while she knows that I am her equal in rank, though I do not pretend to be her equal in abilities and experience. Well she may do as she pleases. If my preparations were not so far advanced, perhaps I should give up the voyage. But I am resolved to go. I hope the winds will prove favorable, and carry me away from her sh.o.r.es. If they carry me upon them, and I fall into her hands, she may make what disposal of me she will. If I lose my life, I shall esteem it no great loss, for it is now little else than a burden."

How strongly this speech expresses "that mixture of melancholy and dignity, of womanly softness and n.o.ble decision, which pervaded her character." There is a sort of gentleness even in her anger, and a certain indescribable womanly charm in the workings of her mind, which cause all who read her story, while they can not but think that Elizabeth was right, to sympathize wholly with Mary.

Throckmorton, at one of his conversations with Mary, took occasion to ask her respecting her religious views, as Elizabeth wished to know how far she was fixed and committed in her attachment to the Catholic faith. Mary said that she was born and had been brought up a Catholic, and that she should remain so as long as she lived. She would not interfere, she said, with her subjects adopting such form of religion as they might prefer, but for herself she should not change. If she should change, she said, she should justly lose the confidence of her people; for, if they saw that she was light and fickle on that subject, they could not rely upon her in respect to any other. She did not profess to be able to argue, herself, the questions of difference, but she was not wholly uninformed in respect to them, as she had often heard the points discussed by learned men, and had found nothing to lead her to change her ground.

It is impossible for any reader, whether Protestant or Catholic, not to admire the frankness and candor, the honest conscientiousness, the courage, and, at the same time, womanly modesty and propriety which characterize this reply.

CHAPTER V.

RETURN TO SCOTLAND.

1561

Calais.--Artificial piers and breakwaters.--Throckmorton.--Elizabeth's plans.--Throckmorton baffled.--Throckmorton's advice.--Queen Catharine's farewell.--Escort.--Embarkation.--Spectators.--Unfortunate accident.--Mary's farewell to France.--Her deep emotion.--Mary's first night on board.--Her reluctance to leave France.--Fog.--One vessel captured.--Narrow escape.--Mary's Adieu to France.--Attempts to translate it.--Translations of Mary's Adieu to France.--Arrival at Leith.--Palace of Holyrood.--Mary's arrival unexpected.--Mary's reception.--Contrasts.--The cavalcade.--Serenade.--Solitary home.--Favorable impression.--The Lord James.--Mary makes him one of her ministers.--The ma.s.s.--Transubstantiation.--Adoration of the host.--Protestant and Catholic wors.h.i.+p.--Violence and persecution.--The ma.s.s in Mary's chapel.--Scene of excitement.--Lord James.--The reformer, John Knox.--His uncompromising character.--Knox's interview with Mary.--His sternness subdued.--The four Maries.--Queen Elizabeth's insincerity.

Mary was to sail from the port of Calais. Calais is on the northern coast of France, opposite to Dover in England, these towns being on opposite sides of the Straits of Dover, where the channel between England and France is very narrow. Still, the distance is so great that the land on either side is ordinarily not visible on the other.

There is no good natural harbor at Calais, nor, in fact, at any other point on the French coast. The French have had to supply the deficiency by artificial piers and breakwaters. There are several very capacious and excellent harbors on the English side. This may have been one cause, among others, of the great naval superiority which England has attained.

When Queen Elizabeth found that Mary was going to persevere in her intention of returning to her native land, she feared that she might, after her arrival in Scotland, and after getting established in power there, form a scheme for making war upon _her_ dominions, and attempt to carry into effect her claim upon the English crown. She wished to prevent this. Would it be prudent to intercept Mary upon her pa.s.sage? She reflected on this subject with the cautious calculation which formed so striking a part of her character, and felt in doubt. Her taking Mary a prisoner, and confining her a captive in her own land, might incense Queen Catharine, who was now regent of France, and also awaken a general resentment in Scotland, so as to bring upon her the hostility of those two countries, and thus, perhaps, make more mischief than the securing of Mary's person would prevent.

She accordingly, as a previous step, sent to Throckmorton, her emba.s.sador in France, directing him to have an interview with Queen Catharine, and ascertain how far she would feel disposed to take Mary's part. Throckmorton did this. Queen Catharine gave no direct reply. She said that both herself and the young king wished well to Elizabeth, and to Mary too, that it was her desire that the two queens might be on good terms with each other; that she was a friend to them both, and should not take a part against either of them.

This was all that Queen Elizabeth could expect, and she formed her plans for intercepting Mary on her pa.s.sage. She sent to Throckmorton, asking him to find out, if he could, what port Queen Mary was to sail from, and to send her word. She then gave orders to her naval commanders to a.s.semble as many s.h.i.+ps as they could, and hold them in readiness to sail into the seas between England and France, for the purpose of _exterminating the pirates_, which she said had lately become very numerous there.

Throckmorton took occasion, in a conversation which he had with Mary soon after this, to inquire from what port she intended to sail; but she did not give him the information. She suspected his motive, and merely said, in reply to his question, that she hoped the wind would prove favorable for carrying her away as far as possible from the English coast, whatever might be the point from which she should take her departure. Throckmorton then endeavored to find out the arrangements of the voyage by other means, but without much success.

He wrote to Elizabeth that he thought Mary would sail either from Havre or Calais; that she would go eastward, along the sh.o.r.e of the Continent, by Flanders and Holland, till she had gained a considerable distance from the English coast, and then would sail north along the eastern sh.o.r.es of the German Ocean. He advised that Elizabeth should send spies to Calais and to Havre, and perhaps to other French ports, to watch there, and to let her know whenever they observed any appearances of preparations for Mary's departure.

In the mean time, as the hour for Mary's farewell to Paris and all its scenes of luxury and splendor, drew near, those who had loved her were drawn more closely to her in heart than ever, and those who had been envious and jealous began to relent, and to look upon her with feelings of compa.s.sion and of kind regard. Queen Catharine treated her with extreme kindness during the last few days of her stay, and she accompanied her for some distance on her journey, with every manifestation of sincere affection and good will. She stopped, at length, at St. Germain, and there, with many tears, she bade her gentle daughter-in-law a long and last farewell.

Many princes and n.o.bles, especially of the family of Guise, Mary's relatives, accompanied her through the whole journey. They formed quite a long cavalcade, and attracted great attention in all the towns and districts through which they pa.s.sed. They traveled slowly, but at length arrived at Calais, where they waited nearly a week to complete the arrangements for Mary's embarkation. At length the day arrived for her to set sail. A large concourse of spectators a.s.sembled to witness the scene. Four s.h.i.+ps had been provided for the transportation of the party and their effects. Two of these were galleys. They were provided with banks of oars, and large crews of rowers, by means of which the vessels could be propelled when the wind failed. The two other vessels were merely vessels of burden, to carry the furniture and other effects of the pa.s.sengers.

Many of the queen's friends were to accompany her to Scotland. The four Maries were among them. She bade those that were to remain behind farewell, and prepared to embark on board the royal galley.

Her heart was very sad. Just at this time, a vessel which was coming in struck against the pier, in consequence of a heavy sea which was rolling in, and of the distraction of the seamen occasioned by Mary's embarkation. The vessel which struck was so injured by the concussion that it filled immediately and sank. Most of the seamen on board were drowned. This accident produced great excitement and confusion.

Mary looked upon the scene from the deck of her vessel, which was now slowly moving from the sh.o.r.e. It alarmed her, and impressed her mind with a sad and mournful sense of the dangers of the elements to whose mercy she was now to be committed for many days. "What an unhappy omen is this!" she exclaimed. She then went to the stern of the s.h.i.+p, looked back at the sh.o.r.e, then knelt down, and, covering her face with her hands, sobbed aloud. "Farewell, France!" she exclaimed: "I shall never, never see thee more." Presently, when her emotions for a moment subsided, she would raise her eyes, and take another view of the slowly-receding sh.o.r.e, and then exclaim again, "Farewell, my beloved France! farewell! farewell!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARY'S EMBARKATION AT CALAIS.]

She remained in this position, suffering this anguish, for five hours, when it began to grow dark, and she could no longer see the sh.o.r.e. She then rose, saying that her beloved country was gone from her sight forever. "The darkness, like a thick veil, hides thee from my sight, and I shall see thee no more. So farewell, beloved land! farewell forever!" She left her place at the stern, but she would not leave the deck. She made them bring up a bed, and place it for her there, near the stern. They tried to induce her to go into the cabin, or at least to take some supper; but she would not. She lay down upon her bed. She charged the helmsman to awaken her at the dawn, if the land was in sight when the dawn should appear. She then wept herself to sleep.

During the night the air was calm, and the vessels in which Mary and her company had embarked made such small progress, being worked only by the oars, that the land came into view again with the gray light of the morning. The helmsman awoke Mary, and the sight of the sh.o.r.e renewed her anguish and tears. She said that she _could not_ go. She wished that Elizabeth's s.h.i.+ps would come in sight, so as to compel her squadron to return. But no English fleet appeared. On the contrary, the breeze freshened. The sailors unfurled the sails, the oars were taken in, and the great crew of oarsmen rested from their toil. The s.h.i.+ps began to make their way rapidly through the rippling water. The land soon became a faint, low cloud in the horizon, and in an hour all traces of it entirely disappeared.

The voyage continued for ten days. They saw nothing of Elizabeth's cruisers. It was afterward ascertained, however, that these s.h.i.+ps were at one time very near to them, and were only prevented from seeing and taking them by a dense fog, which at that time happened to cover the sea. One of the vessels of burden was seen and taken, and carried to England. It contained, however, only some of Mary's furniture and effects. She herself escaped the danger.

The fog, which was thus Mary's protection at one time, was a source of great difficulty and danger at another; for, when they were drawing near to the place of their landing in Scotland, they were enveloped in a fog so dense that they could scarcely see from one end of the vessel to the other. They stopped the progress of their vessels, and kept continually sounding; and when at length the fog cleared away, they found themselves involved in a labyrinth of rocks and shoals of the most dangerous character. They made their escape at last, and went on safely toward the land. Mary said, however, that she felt, at the time, entirely indifferent as to the result. She was so disconsolate and wretched at having parted forever from all that was dear to her, that it seemed to her that she was equally willing to live or to die.

Mary, who, among her other accomplishments, had a great deal of poetic talent, wrote some lines, called her Farewell to France, which have been celebrated from that day to this. They are as follows:

ADIEU.

Adieu, plaisant pays de France!

O ma patrie, La plus cherie; Qui a nourri ma jeune enfance.

Adieu, France! adieu, mes beaux jours!

La nef qui dejoint mes amours, N'a cy de moi que la moitie; Une parte te reste; elle est tienne; Je la fie a ton amitie, Pour que de l'autre il te souvienne.

Many persons have attempted to translate these lines into English verse; but it is always extremely difficult to translate poetry from one language to another. We give here two of the best of these translations. The reader can judge, by observing how different they are from each other, how different they must both be from their common original.

ADIEU.

Farewell to thee, thou pleasant sh.o.r.e, The loved, the cherished home to me Of infant joy, a dream that's o'er, Farewell, dear France! farewell to thee.

The sail that wafts me bears away From thee but half my soul alone; Its fellow half will fondly stay, And back to thee has faithful flown.

I trust it to thy gentle care; For all that here remains with me Lives but to think of all that's there, To love and to remember thee.