book v

, vol. ii, p. 495.

[56] _Annals of Scotland_, p. 14.

[57] _Diurnal of Occurrents_, p. 87.

[58] _Calendar of State Papers, Eliz._, vol. ix.

MARY FLEMING

It is scarcely the result of mere chance that, in the chronicles which make mention of the four Marys, Mary Fleming's name usually takes precedence of those of her three colleagues. She seems to have been tacitly recognized as "prima inter pares". This was, doubtless, less in consequence of her belonging to one of the first houses in Scotland, for the Livingstons, the Betons, and the Setons might well claim equality with the Flemings, than of her being closely related to Mary Stuart herself, though the relationship, it is true, was only on the side of the distaff, and though there was, moreover, a bar sinister on the royal quarterings which it added to the escutcheon of the Flemings. Mary Fleming--Marie Flemyng, as she signed herself, or Flamy, as she was called in the Queen's broken English--was the fourth daughter of Malcolm, third Lord Fleming. Her mother, Janet Stuart, was a natural daughter of King James IV. Mary Fleming and her royal mistress were consequently first cousins. This may sufficiently account for the greater intimacy which existed between them. Thus, after Chastelard's outrage, it was Mary Fleming whom the Queen, dreading the loneliness which had rendered the wild attempt possible, called in to sleep with her, for protection.

Amongst the various festivities and celebrations which were revived in Holyrood by Mary and the suite which she had brought with her from the gay court of France, that of Twelfth Night seems to have been in high favour, as, indeed, it still is in some provinces of France at the present day. In the "gâteau des Rois", or Twelfth Night Cake, it was customary to hide a bean, and when the cake was cut up and distributed, the person to whom chance--or not infrequently design--brought the piece containing the bean, was recognized sole monarch of the revels until the stroke of midnight. On the 6th of January, 1563, Mary Fleming was elected queen by favour of the bean. Her mistress, entering into the spirit of the festivities, with her characteristic considerateness for even the amusement of those about her, abdicated her state in favour of the mimic monarch of the night. A letter written by Randolph to Lord Dudley, and bearing the date of the 15th of January, gives an interesting and vivid picture of the fair maid of honour decked out in her royal mistress's jewels: "You should have seen here upon Tuesday the great solemnity and royall estate of the Queen of the Beene. Fortune was so favourable to faire Flemyng, that, if shee could have seen to have judged of her vertue and beauty, as blindly she went to work and chose her at adventure, shee would sooner have made her Queen for ever, then for one night only, to exalt her so high and the nixt to leave her in the state she found her.... That day yt was to be seen, by her princely pomp, how fite a match she would be, wer she to contend ether with Venus in beauty, Minerva in witt, or Juno in worldly wealth, haveing the two former by nature, and of the third so much as is contained in this realme at her command and free disposition. The treasure of Solomon, I trowe, was not to be compared unto that which hanged upon her back.... The Queen of the Beene was in a gowne of cloath of silver; her head, her neck, her shoulders, the rest of her whole body, so besett with stones, that more in our whole jewell house wer not to be found. The Queen herself was apparelled in collours whyt and black, no other jewell or gold about her bot the ring that I brought her from the Queen's Majestie hanging at her breast, with a lace of whyt and black about her neck." In another part of the same letter the writer becomes even more enthusiastic: "Happy was it unto this realm," he says, "that her reign endured no longer. Two such nights in one state, in so good accord, I believe was never seen, as to behold two worthy queens possess, without envy, one kingdom, both upon a day. I leave the rest to your lordship to be judged of. My pen staggereth, my hand faileth, further to write.... The cheer was great. I never found myself so happy, nor so well treated, until that it came to the point that the old queen herself, to show her mighty power, contrary unto the assurance granted me by the younger queen, drew me into the dance, which part of the play I could with good will have spared to your lordship, as much fitter for the purpose."[59]

The queen of this Twelfth-Tide pageant was also celebrated by the court poet Buchanan. Amongst his epigrams there is one bearing the title: "Ad Mariam Flaminiam sorte Reginam":

Could worth or high descent a crown bestow, Thou hadst been Queen, fair Fleming, long ago; Were grace and beauty titles to the throne, No grace or beauty had outshone thine own; Did vows of mortal men avail with Fate, Our vows had raised thee to the royal state. The fickle Deity that rules mankind, Though blind and deaf and foolish in her mind, Seemed neither foolish, deaf, nor blind to be When regal honours she accorded thee; Or, if she were, then 'twas by Virtue led She placed the diadem upon thy head.[60]

The "Faire Flemyng" found an admirer amongst the English gentlemen whom political business had brought to the Scotch Court. This was Sir Henry Sidney, of whom Naunton reports that he was a statesman "of great parts". As Sir Henry was born in 1519, and consequently over twenty years older than the youthful maid of honour, his choice cannot be considered to have been a very judicious one, nor can the ill-success of his suit appear greatly astonishing. And yet, as the sequel was to show, Mary Fleming had no insuperable objection to an advantageous match on the score of disparity of age. In the year following that in which she figured as Queen of the Bean at Holyrood, the gossiping correspondence of the time expatiates irreverently enough on Secretary Maitland's wooing of the maid of honour. He was about forty at the time, and it was not very long since his first wife, Janet Monteith, had died. Mary Fleming was about two-and-twenty. There was, consequently, some show of reason for the remark made by Kirkcaldy of Grange, in communicating to Randolph the new matrimonial project in which Maitland was embarked: "The Secretary's wife is dead, and he is a suitor to Mary Fleming, who is as meet for him as I am to be a page".[61] Cecil appears to have been taken into the Laird of Lethington's confidence, and doubtless found amusement in the enamoured statesman's extravagance. "The common affairs do never so much trouble me but that at least I have one merry hour of the four-and-twenty.... Those that be in love are ever set upon a merry pin; yet I take this to be a most singular remedy for all diseases in all persons."[62] Two of the keenest politicians of their age laying aside their diplomatic gravity and forgetting the jealousies and the rivalry of their respective courts to discuss the charms of the Queen's youthful maid of honour: it is a charming historical vignette not without interest and humour even at this length of time. We may judge to what extent the Secretary was "set on a merry pin", from Randolph's description of the courtship. In a letter dated 31 March, 1565, and addressed to Sir Henry Sidney, Mary Fleming's old admirer, he writes: "She neither remembereth you, nor scarcely acknowledgeth that you are her man. Your lordship, therefore, need not to pride you of any such mistress in this court; she hath found another whom she doth love better. Lethington now serveth her alone, and is like, for her sake, to run beside himself. Both night and day he attendeth, he watcheth, he wooeth--his folly never more apparent than in loving her, where he may be assured that, how much soever he make of her, she will always love another better. This much I have written for the worthy praise of your noble mistress, who, now being neither much worth in beauty, nor greatly to be praised in virtue, is content, in place of lords and earls, to accept to her service a poor pen clerk."[63] We have not to reconcile the ill-natured and slanderous remarks of Randolph's letter with the glowing panegyric penned by him some two years previously. That he intended to comfort the rejected suitor, and to tone down the disappointment and the jealousy which he might feel at the success of a rival not greatly younger than himself, would be too charitable a supposition. It is not improbable that he may have had more personal reasons for his spite, and that when, in the same letter, he describes "Fleming that once was so fair", wishing "with many a sigh that Randolph had served her", he is giving a distorted and unscrupulous version of an episode not unlike that between Mary Fleming and Sir Henry himself. To give even the not very high-minded Randolph his due, however, it is but fair to add that his later letters, whilst fully bearing out what he had previously stated with regard to Maitland's lovemaking, throw no doubt on Mary's sincerity: "Lethington hath now leave and time to court his mistress, Mary Fleming";[64] and, again, "My old friend, Lethington, hath leisure to make love; and, in the end, I believe, as wise as he is, will show himself a very fool, or stark, staring mad".[65] This "leisure to make love" is attributed to Rizzio, then in high favour with the Queen. This was about the end of 1565. Early in 1566, however, the unfortunate Italian was murdered under circumstances too familiar to need repetition, and for his share in the unwarrantable transaction, Secretary Maitland was banished from the royal presence. The lovers were, in consequence, parted for some six months, from March to September. It was about this time that Queen Mary, dreading the hour of her approaching travail, and haunted by a presentiment that it would prove fatal to her, caused inventories of her private effects to be drawn up, and made legacies to her personal friends and attendants. The four Marys were not forgotten. They were each to receive a diamond; "Aux quatre Maries, quatre autres petis diamants de diverse façon",[66] besides a portion of the Queen's needlework and linen: "tous mes ouurasges, manches et collets aux quatre Maries".[67] In addition to this, there was set down for "Flamy", two pieces of gold lace with ornaments of white and red enamel, a dress, a necklace, and a chain to be used as a girdle. We may infer that red and white were the maid of honour's favourite colours, for "blancq et rouge" appear in some form or another in all the items of the intended legacy.[68]

As we have said, the Secretary's disgrace was not of long duration. About September he was reinstated in the Queen's favour, and in December received from her a dress of cloth of gold trimmed with silver lace: "Une vasquyne de toille d'or plaine auecq le corps de mesme fait a bourletz borde dung passement dargent".[69]

On the 6th of January, 1567, William Maitland of Lethington and Mary Fleming were married at Stirling, where the Queen was keeping her court, and where she spent the last Twelfth-Tide she was to see outside the walls of a prison. The Secretary's wife, as Mary was frequently styled after her marriage, did not cease to be in attendance upon her royal cousin, and we get occasional glimpses of her in the troubled times which were to follow. Thus, on the eventful morning on which Bothwell's trial began, Mary Fleming stood with the Queen at the window from which the latter, after having imprudently refused an audience to the Provost-Marshal of Berwick, Elizabeth's messenger, still more imprudently watched the bold Earl's departure and, it was reported, smiled and nodded encouragement. Again, in the enquiry which followed the Queen's escape from Lochleven, it appeared that her cousin had been privy to the plot for her release, and had found the means of conveying to the royal captive the assurance that her friends were working for her deliverance: "The Queen", so ran the evidence of one of the attendants examined after the flight, "said scho gat ane ring and three wordis in Italianis in it. I iudget it cam fra the Secretar, because of the language. Scho said, 'Na, ... it was ane woman. All the place saw hir weyr it. Cursall show me the Secretaris wiff send it, and the vreting of it was ane fable of Isop betuix the Mouss and the Lioune, hou the Mouss for ane plesour done to hir be the Lioune, efter that, the Lioune being bound with ane corde, the Mouss schuyr the corde and let the Lioune louss.'"[70]

During her long captivity in England, the unfortunate Queen was not unmindful of the love and devotion of her faithful attendant. Long years after she had been separated from her, whilst in prison at Sheffield, she gives expression to her longing for the presence of Mary Fleming, and in a letter written "du manoir de Sheffield", on the 1st of May, 1581, to Monsieur de Mauvissière, the French ambassador, she begs him to renew her request to Elizabeth that the Lady of Lethington should be allowed to tend her in "the valetudinary state into which she has fallen, of late years, owing to the bad treatment to which she has been subjected".[71]

But the Secretary's wife had had her own trials and her own sorrows. On the 9th of June, 1573, her husband died at Leith, "not without suspicion of poison", according to Killigrew. Whether he died by his own hand, or by the act of his enemies, is a question which we are not called upon to discuss. The evidence of contemporaries is conflicting, "some supponyng he tak a drink and died as the auld Romans wer wont to do", as Sir James Melville reports;[72] others, and amongst these Queen Mary herself, that he had been foully dealt with. Writing to Elizabeth, she openly gives expression to this belief: "the principal (of the rebel lords) were besieged by your forces in the Castle of Edinburgh, and one of the first among them poisoned".

Maitland was to have been tried "for art and part of the treason, conspiracy, consultation, and treating of the King's murder". According to the law of Scotland, a traitor's guilt was not cancelled by death. The corpse might be arraigned and submitted to all the indignities which the barbarous code of the age recognized as the punishment of treason. It was intended to inflict the fullest penalty upon Maitland's corpse, and it remained unburied "till the vermin came from his corpse, creeping out under the door of the room in which he was lying".[73] In her distress the widow applied to Burleigh, in a touching letter which is still preserved. It bears the date of the 21st of June, 1573.

My very good Lord,--After my humble commendations, it may please your Lordship that the causes of the sorrowful widow, and orphants, by Almighty God recommended to the superior powers, together with the firm confidence my late husband, the Laird of Ledington, put in your Lordship's only help is the occasion, that I his desolat wife (though unknown to your Lordship), takes the boldness by these few lines, to humblie request your Lordship, that as my said husband being alive expected no small benefit at your hands, so now I may find such comfort, that the Queen's Majestie, your Sovereign, may by your travell and means be moved to write to my Lord Regent of Scotland, that the body of my husband, which when alive has not been spared in her hieness' service, may now, after his death, receive no shame, or ignominy, and that his heritage taken from him during his lifetime, now belonging to me and his children, that have not offended, by a disposition made a long time ago, may be restored, which is aggreeable both to equity and the laws of this realme; and also your Lordship will not forget my husband's brother, the Lord of Coldingham, ane innocent gentleman, who was never engaged in these quarrels, but for his love to his brother, accompanied him, and is now a prisoner with the rest, that by your good means, and procurement, he may be restored to his own, by doing whereof, beside the blessing of God, your lordship will also win the goodwill of many noblemen and gentlemen.[74]

Burleigh lost no time in laying the widow's petition before Elizabeth, and on the 19th of July a letter written at Croydon was dispatched to the Regent Morton: "For the bodie of Liddington, who died before he was convict in judgment, and before any answer by him made to the crymes objected to him, it is not our maner in this contrey to show crueltey upon the dead bodies so unconvicted, but to suffer them streight to be buried, and put in the earth. And so suerly we think it mete to be done in this case, for (as we take it) it was God's pleasure he should be taken away from the execucion of judgment, so we think consequently that it was His divine pleasure that the bodie now dead should not be lacerated, nor pullid in pieces, but be buried like to one who died in his bed, and by sicknes, as he did."[75]

Such a petitioner as the Queen of England was not to be denied, and Maitland's body was allowed the rites of burial. The other penalties which he had incurred by his treason--real or supposed--were not remitted. An Act of Parliament was passed "for rendering the children, both lawful and natural, of Sir William Maitland of Lethington, the younger, and of several others, who had been convicted of the murder of the King's father, incapable of enjoying, or claiming, any heritages, lands, or possessions in Scotland".

The widow herself was also subjected to petty annoyances at the instigation of Morton. She was called upon to restore the jewels which her royal mistress had given her as a free gift, and in particular, "one chayn of rubeis with twelf markes of dyamontis and rubeis, and ane mark with twa rubeis".[76] Even her own relatives seemed to have turned against her in her distress. In a letter written in French to her sister-in-law, Isabel, wife of James Heriot of Trabroun, she refers to some accusation brought against her by her husband's brother, Coldingham--the same for whom she had interceded in her letter to Burleigh--and begs to be informed as to the nature of the charge made to the Regent, "car ace que jantans il me charge de quelque chose, je ne say que cest".[77] The letter bears no date, but seems to have been penned when the writer's misery was at its sorest, for it concludes with an earnest prayer that patience may be given her to bear the weight of her misfortunes.

Better days, however, were yet in store for the much-tried Mary Fleming, for in February, 1584, the "relict of umquhill William Maitland, younger of Lethington, Secretare to our Soverane Lord", succeeded in obtaining a reversion of her husband's forfeiture. In May of the same year,[78] the Parliament allowed "Marie Flemyng and hir bairns to have bruik and inioy the same and like fauour, grace and priuilege and conditioun as is contenit in the pacificatioun maid and accordit at Perthe, the xxiii day of Februar, the yeir of God I^{m} V^{c} lxxxij yeiris".

With this document one of the four Marys disappears from the scene. Of her later life we have no record. That it was thoroughly happy we can scarcely assume, for we know that her only son James died in poverty and exile.

FOOTNOTES: for MARY FLEMING

[59] _Miscellany of the Maitland Club_, vol. ii, pp. 390-3.

[60] _Epigrammatum_, lib. iii.

[61] _Calendar of State Papers, Eliz._, vol. ix, No. 47 B.

[62] _Calendar of State Papers, Eliz._, vol. x, Feb. 28, 1565.

[63] _Calendar of State Papers, Eliz._, vol. x, 31 March, 1565.

[64] _Calendar of State Papers, Eliz._, vol. x, 3 June, 1565.

[65] _Calendar of State Papers, Eliz._, vol. xi, 31 Oct., 1565.

[66] _Inventories_, p. 113.

[67] _Inventories_, p. 124.

[68] "A Flamy. Vne brodure dor esmaille de blancq et rouge contenante xxxvij pieces.

Vne brodure dorelette de mesme façon garnye de lj piece esmaille de blancq et rouge.

Vne cottouere de mesme façon contenante soixante piece esmaille de blanc et rouge.

Vng quarquan esmaille aussy de blancq et rouge garny de vingt une piece.

Vne chesne a saindre en semblable façon contenante lij pieces esmaillez de blanc et rouge et vng vaze pandant au bout."--_Inventories_, p. 116.

[69] _Inventories_, p. 69.

[70] MS. Fragment in the Register House; cf. _Inventories_, p. 1.

[71] Prince Labanoff, _Lettres de Marie Stuart_, t. v, p. 222.

[72] _Memoirs_, p. 256.

[73] Calderwood, _History of the Kirk of Scotland_, vol. iii, p. 285.

[74] G. Chalmers, _Life of Mary Queen of Scots_, vol. iii, p. 615.

[75] _Calendar of State Papers_, vol. iv, p. 599.

[76] Thomson's _Collection of Inventories_, p. 193; cf. _Calendar of State Papers_, vol. iv, Oct. 19, 1573; and _Inventories of Mary_, p. clvii.

[77] Printed in _Letters from Lady Margaret Burnet to John, Duke of Lauderdale_, p. 83. Bannatyne Club.

[78] _Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland_, vol. iii, p. 313.

MARY LIVINGSTON

Mary Livingston, or, as she signed herself, Marie Leuiston, was the daughter of Alexander, fifth Lord Livingston. She was a cousin of Mary Fleming's, and, like her, related, though more distantly, to the sovereign. When she sailed from Scotland in 1548, as one of the playmates of the infant Mary Stuart, she was accompanied by both her father and her mother. Within a few years, however, she was left to the sole care of the latter, Lord Livingston having died in France in 1553. Of her life at the French Court we have no record. Her first appearance in the pages of contemporary chroniclers is on the 22nd of April, 1562, the year after her return to Scotland. On that date, the young Queen, who delighted in the sport of archery, shot off a match in her private gardens at St. Andrews. Her own partner was the Master of Lindsay.[79] Their opponents were the Earl of Moray, then only Earl of Mar, and Mary Livingston, whose skill is reported to have been--when courtesy allowed it--quite equal to that of her royal mistress.

The next item of information is to be found in the matter-of-fact columns of an account book, in which we find it entered that the Queen gave Mary Livingston some grey damask for a gown, in September, 1563,[80] and some black velvet for the same purpose in the following February.[81] Shortly after this, however, there occurred an event of greater importance, which supplied the letter-writers of the day with material for their correspondence. On the 5th of March, 1564, Mary Livingston was married to James Sempill, of Beltreis. It was the first marriage amongst the Marys, and consequently attracted considerable attention for months before the celebration. As early as January, Paul de Foix, the French Ambassador, makes allusion to the approaching event: "Elle a commencé à marier ses quatre Maries", he writes to Catharine de' Medici, "et dict qu'elle veult estre de la bande".[82] In a letter, dated the 9th of the same month, Randolph, faithful to his habit of communicating all the gossip of the Court in his reports to England, informs Bedford of the intended marriage: "I learned yesterday that there is a conspiracy here framed against you. The matter is this: the Lord Sempill's son, being an Englishman born, shall be married between this and Shrovetide to the Lord Livingston's sister. The Queen, willing him well, both maketh the marriage and indoweth the parties with land. To do them honour she will have them marry in the Court. The thing intended against your lordship is this, that Sempill himself shall come to Berwicke within these fourteen days, and desire you to be at the bridal."[83] Writing to Leicester, he repeats his information: "It will not be above 6 or 7 days before the Queen (returning from her progress into Fifeshire) will be in this town. Immediately after that ensueth the great marriage of this happy Englishman that shall marry lovely Livingston."[84] Finally, on the 4th of March, he again writes: "Divers of the noblemen have come to this great marriage, which to-morrow shall be celebrated".[85] Randolph's epistolary garrulity has, in this instance, served one good purpose, of which he probably little dreamt when he filled his correspondence with the small talk of the Court circle. It enables us to refute a calumnious assertion made by John Knox with reference to the marriage of the Queen's maid of honour. "It was weill knawin that schame haistit mariage betwix John Sempill, callit the Danser, and Marie Levingstoune, surnameit the Lustie."[86] Randolph's first letter, showing, as it does, that preparations for the wedding were in progress as early as the beginning of January, summarily dismisses the charge of "haste" in its celebration, whilst, for those who are familiar with the style of the English envoy's correspondence, his very silence will appear the strongest proof that Mary's fair fame was tarnished by no breath of scandal. The birth of her first child in 1566, a fact to which the family records of the house of Sempill bear witness, establishes more irrefutably than any argument the utter falsity of Knox's unscrupulous assertion.

John Sempill, whose grace in dancing had acquired for him the surname which seems to have lain so heavily on Knox's conscience, and whose good fortune in finding favour with lovely Mary Livingston called forth Randolph's congratulations, was the eldest son of the third lord, by his second wife Elizabeth Carlyle of Torthorwold. At Court, as may have been gathered from Randolph's letters, he was known as the "Englishman", owing to the fact of his having been born in Newcastle. Although of good family himself, and in high favour at Court, being but a younger son he does not seem to have been considered on all hands as a fitting match for Mary Livingston. This the Queen, of whose making the marriage was, herself confesses in a letter to the Archbishop of Glasgow, reminding him that, "in a country where these formalities were looked to", exception had been taken to the marriage both of Mary and Magdalene Livingston on the score that they had taken as husbands "the younger sons of their peers--_les puînés de leurs semblables_".[87] Mary Stuart seems to have been above such prejudices, and showed how heartily she approved of the alliance between the two families by her liberality to the bride. Shortly before the marriage she gave her a band covered with pearls, a basquina of grey satin, a mantle of black taffety made in the Spanish fashion with silver buttons, and also a gown of black taffety. It was she, too, who furnished the bridal dress, which cost £30, as entered in the accounts under date of the 10th of March:--

Item: Ane pund xiii unce of silver to ane gown of Marie Levingstoune's to her mariage, the unce xxv s. Summa xxx li.

The "Inuentair of the Quenis movables quhilkis ar in the handes of Seruais de Condy vallett of chalmer to hir Grace", records, further, that there was "deliueret in Merche 1564, to Johnne Semples wiff, ane bed of scarlett veluot bordit with broderie of black veluot, furnisit with ruif heidpece, thre pandis, twa vnderpandis, thre curtenis of taffetie of the same cullour without freingis. The bed is furnisit with freingis of the same cullour." To make her gift complete, the Queen, as another household document, her wardrobe book, testifies, added the following items:--

Item: Be the said precept to Marie Levingstoun xxxi elnis ii quarters of quhite fustiane to be ane marterass, the eln viii s. Summa xii li xii s. Item: xvi elnis of cammes to be palzeass, the eln vi s. Summa iiij li xvj s. Item: For nappes and fedders; v li. Item: Ane elne of lane; xxx s. Item: ij unce of silk; xx s.

The wedding for which such elaborate preparation had been made, and for which the Queen herself named the day, took place, in the presence of the whole Court and all the foreign ambassadors, on Shrove Tuesday, which, as has already been mentioned, was on the 5th of March. In the evening the wedding guests were entertained at a masque, which was supplied by the Queen, but of which we know nothing further than may be gathered from the following entry:--

Item: To the painter for the mask on Fastionis evin to Marie Levingstoun's marriage; xij li.[88]

The marriage contract, which was signed at Edinburgh on the Sunday preceding the wedding, bears the names of the Queen, of John Lord Erskine, Patrick Lord Ruthven, and of Secretary Maitland of Lethington. The bride's dowry consisted of £500 a year in land, the gift of the Queen, to which Lord Livingston added 100 merks a year in land, or 1000 merks in money. As a jointure she received the Barony of Beltreis near Castle Semple, in Renfrewshire, the lands of Auchimanes and Calderhaugh, with the rights of fisheries in the Calder, taxed to the Crown at £18, 16s. 8d. a year.[89]

A few days after the marriage, on the 9th of March, a grant from the Queen to Mary Livingston and John Sempill passed the great seal. In this official document she styles the bride "her familiar servatrice", and the bridegroom "her daily and familiar serviter, during all the youthheid and minority of the said serviters". In recognition of their services both to herself and the Queen Regent, she infeofs them in her town and lands of Auchtermuchty, part of her royal demesne in Fifeshire, the lands and lordships of Stewarton in Ayr, and the isle of Little Cumbrae in the Firth of Clyde.

After her marriage "Madamoiselle de Semple" was appointed lady of the bedchamber, an office for which she received £200 a year. Her husband also seems to have retained some office which required his personal attendance on the Queen, for we know that both husband and wife were in waiting at Holyrood on the memorable evening of David Rizzio's murder. The shock which this tragic event produced on Mary was very great, and filled her with the darkest forebodings. She more than once expressed her fear that she would not survive her approaching confinement. About the end of May or the beginning of June, shortly before the solemn ceremony of "taking her chamber", she caused an inventory of her personal effects to be drawn up by Mary Livingston and Margaret Carwod, the bedchamber woman in charge of her cabinet, and with her own hand wrote, on the margin opposite to each of the several articles, the name of the person for whom it was intended, in the event of her death and of that of her infant. Mary Livingston's name appears by the side of the following objects in the original document, which was discovered among some unassorted law papers in the Register House, in August, 1854:--

Quatre vingtz deux esguillettes xliiij petittes de mesme facon esmaillez de blancq. Une brodure du toure contenante xxv pieces esmaille de blanc et noir facon de godrons. Vne brodeure doreillette de pareille facon contenante xxvij pieces esmaillees de blanc et noir. Vne cottouere de semblable facon contenante lx pieces de pareille facon esmaillee de blanc et noir. Vng carcan esmaille de blanc et noir contenant dixsept pieces et a chacune piece y a vng petit pandant. Vne chesne a saindre de semblable facon contenante liiij pieces esmaillees de blanc et noir et vng vaze au bout. Vne corde de coural contenante lxiij pieces faictes en vaze. Vne aultre corde de coural contenante treize grosses pieces aussy en vaze. Vne aultre corde de coural contenante xxxviij pieches plus petittes aussy en vaze. Vng reste de patenostres ou il a neuf meures de perles et des grains dargent entredeux. Vne saincture et cottouere de perles garnie bleu et grains noir faict a roisteau. Item: haill acoustrement of gold of couter carcan and chesne of 66 pyecis.

Only on one occasion after this do we find mention of Mary Livingston in connection with her royal mistress. It is on the day following the Queen's surrender at Carberry, when she was brought back a prisoner to Edinburgh. The scene is described by Du Croc, the French Ambassador. "On the evening of the next day," he writes in the official report forwarded to his court, "at eight o'clock, the Queen was brought back to the castle of Holyrood, escorted by three hundred arquebusiers, the Earl of Morton on the one side, and the Earl of Athole on the other; she was on foot, though two hacks were led in front of her; she was accompanied at the time by Mademoiselle de Sempel and Seton, with others of her chamber, and was dressed in a night-gown of various colours."[90]

After the Queen's removal from Edinburgh the Sempills also left it to reside sometimes at Beltreis, and sometimes at Auchtermuchty, but chiefly in Paisley, where they built a house which was still to be seen but a few years ago, near what is now the Cross. Their retirement from the capital did not, however, secure for them the quietness which they expected to enjoy. They had stood too high in favour with the captive Queen to be overlooked by her enemies. The Regent Lennox, remembering that Mary Livingston had been entrusted with the care of the royal jewels and wardrobe, accused her of having some of the Queen's effects in her possession. Notwithstanding her denial, her husband was arrested and cast into prison, and she herself brought before the Lords of the Privy Council. Their cross-questioning and brow-beating failed to elicit any information from her, and it was only when Lennox threatened to "put her to the horn", and to inflict the torture of the "boot" on her husband, that she confessed to the possession of "three lang-tailit gowns garnished with fur of martrix and fur of sables". She protested, however, that, as was indeed highly probable, these had been given to her, and were but cast-off garments, of little value or use to anyone. In spite of this, she was not allowed to depart until she had given surety "that she would compear in the council-chamber on the morrow and surrender the gear".

Lennox's death, which occurred shortly after this, did not put an end to the persecution to which the Sempills were subjected. Morton was as little friendly to them as his predecessor had been. He soon gave proof of this by calling upon John Sempill to leave his family and to proceed to England, as one of the hostages demanded as security for the return of the army and implements of war, sent, under Sir William Drury, to lay siege to Edinburgh Castle.

On his return home, Sempill found new and worse troubles awaiting him. It happened that of the lands conferred upon Mary Livingston on her marriage some portion lay near one of Morton's estates. Not only had the Queen's gift been made by a special grant under the Great and Privy Seals, but the charter of infeofment had also been ratified by a further Act of Parliament in 1567, when it was found that the proposal to annul the forfeiture of George Earl of Huntly would affect it. It seemed difficult, therefore, to find even a legal flaw that would avail to deprive the Sempills of their lands and afford the Regent an opportunity of appropriating them to himself. He was probably too powerful, however, to care greatly for the justice of his plea. He brought the matter before the Court of Session, urging that the gift made by the Queen to Mary Livingston and her husband was null and void, on the ground that it was illegal to alienate the lands of the Crown. It was in vain that Sempill brought forward the deed of gift under the Great and Privy Seals, the judges would not allow his plea. Thereupon Sempill burst into a violent passion, declaring that if he lost his suit, it would cost him his life as well. Whiteford of Milntoune, a near relative of Sempill's, who was with him at the time, likewise allowed his temper to get the better of his discretion, and exclaimed "that Nero was but a dwarf compared to Morton". This remark, all the more stinging that it was looked upon as a sneer at the Regent's low stature, was never forgiven. Not long after the conclusion of the lawsuit, both Sempill and Whiteford were thrown into prison on a charge "of having conspired against the Regent's life, and of having laid in wait by the Kirk, within the Kirkland of Paisley, to have shot him, in the month of January, 1575, at the instigation of the Lords Claud and John Hamilton". After having been detained in prison till 1577, John Sempill was brought up for trial on this capital charge. His alleged crime being of such a nature that it was probably found impossible to prove it by the testimony of witnesses, he was put to the torture of the boot, with which he had been threatened on a former occasion. By this means sufficient was extorted from him to give at least a semblance of justice to the sentence of death which was passed on him. In consideration of this confession, however, the sentence was not carried out. Ultimately he was set at liberty and restored to his family. His health had completely broken down under the terrible ordeal through which he had gone, and he only lingered on till the 25th of April, 1579.

Of Mary Livingston's life after the death of her husband but little is known. From an Act of Parliament passed in November, 1581, it appears that tardy justice was done her by James VI, who caused the grants formerly made to "umquhile John Semple, of Butress, and his spouse, to be ratified". Her eldest son, James, was brought up with James VI, and in later life was sent as ambassador to England. He was knighted in 1601. There were three other children--two boys, Arthur and John, and one girl, Dorothie.

The exact date of Mary Livingston's death is not known, but she appears to have been living in 1592.

FOOTNOTES: for MARY LIVINGSTON

[79] G. Chalmers' _Life of Queen Mary_, vol. i, p. 109.

[80] _Inventories_, p. 139.

[81] _Ibid._, p. 145.

[82] Teulet, _Papiers d'Etat relatifs à l'Histoire de l'Ecoss_, t. ii, p. 32.

[83] Miss Strickland's _Lives of the Queens of Scotland_, vol. iv, p. 95.

[84] _Calendar of State Papers relating to Scotland_, vol. i, p. 204.

[85] _Ibid._, p. 207.

[86] _History of the Reformation_, vol. ii, p. 415.

[87] Prince Labanoff, _Lettres de Marie Stuart_, t. iv, p. 341.

[88] _Inventories_, pp. xlvii, 31, 65, 68, 70.

[89] _Ibid._, p. xlvii.

[90] Teulet, op. cit., p. 167.

MARY BETON

The family to which Mary Beton, or, as she herself signed her name, Marie Bethune, belonged, seems to have been peculiarly devoted to the service of the house of Stuart. Her father, Robert Beton, of Creich, is mentioned amongst the noblemen and gentlemen who sailed from Dumbarton with the infant Queen, in 1548, and who accompanied her in 1561, when she returned to take possession of the Scottish throne. His office was that of one of the Masters of the Household, and, as such, he was in attendance at Holyrood when the murderers of Rizzio burst into the Queen's chamber and stabbed him before her eyes. He also appears under the style of Keeper of the Royal Palace of Falkland, and Steward of the Queen's Rents in Fife. At his death, which occurred in 1567, he recommends his wife and children to the care of the Queen, "that scho be haill mantenare of my hous as my houpe is in hir Maiestie under God". His grandfather, the founder of the house, was comptroller and treasurer to King James IV. His aunt was one of the ladies of the court of King James V, by whom she was the mother of the Countess of Argyll. One of his sisters, the wife of Arthur Forbes of Reres, stood high in favour with Queen Mary, and was wet-nurse to James VI. His French wife, Jehanne de la Runuelle, and two of his daughters, were ladies of honour.

Of the four Marys, Mary Beton has left least trace in the history of the time. It seems to have been her good fortune to be wholly unconnected with the political events which, in one way or another, dragged her fair colleagues into their vortex, and it may be looked upon as a proof of the happiness of her life, as compared with their eventful careers, that she has but little history.

Though but few materials remain to enable us to reconstruct the story of Mary Beton's life, a fortunate chance gives us the means of judging of the truth of the high-flown compliments paid to her beauty by both Randolph and Buchanan. A portrait of her is still shown at Balfour House, in Fife. It represents, we are told, "a very fair beauty, with dark eyes and yellow hair", and is said to justify all that has been written in praise of her personal charms.[91] The first to fall a victim to these was the English envoy, Randolph. A letter of his to the Earl of Bedford, written in April, 1565, mentions, as an important fact, that Mistress Beton and he had lately played a game at biles against the Queen and Darnley, that they had been successful against their royal opponents, and that Darnley had paid the stakes.[92] In another letter, written to Leicester, he thinks it worthy of special record that for four days he had sat next her at the Queen's table, at St. Andrews. "I was willed to be at my ordinary table, and being placed the next person, saving worthy Beton, to the Queen herself." Writing to the same nobleman he makes a comparison between her and Mary Fleming, of whom, as we have seen, he had drawn so glowing a description, and declares that, "if Beton had lyked so short a time, so worthie a rowme, Flemyng to her by good right should have given place".[93] Knowing, as we do, from the testimony of other letters, how prone Randolph was to overrate his personal influence, and with what amusing self-conceit he claimed for himself the special favours of the ladies of the Scottish Court, there is every reason to suspect the veracity of the statement contained in the following extract from a letter to Sir Henry Sidney: "I doubt myself whether I be the self-same man that now will be content with the name of your countryman, that have the whole guiding, the giving, and bestowing, not only of the Queen, and her kingdom, but of the most worthy Beton, to be ordered and ruled at mine own will".

Like her colleague, Mary Fleming, "the most worthy Beton" had her hour of mock royalty, as we learn from three sets of verses in which Buchanan extols her beauty, worth, and accomplishments, and which are inscribed: "Ad Mariam Betonam pridie Regalium Reginam sorte ductam". In the first of these, which bears some resemblance to that addressed to Mary Fleming on a similar occasion, he asserts, with poetical enthusiasm, the mimic sovereign's real claims to the high dignity which Fortune has tardily conferred upon her:--

Princely in mind and virtue, and so fair, You've long seemed fit a diadem to wear; And Fortune, blushing to have stood aloof, Now lavishes her gifts to your behoof; Deeming atonement for her tardiness Demands in justice she should do no less, She brings the Queen whom all the rest obey A willing subject to your sovereign sway.

In his next effusion the poet rises to a more passionate height in his admiration. It is such as we might imagine Randolph to have penned in his enthusiasm, could we, by any flight of fancy, suppose him capable of such scholarly verses as those of Buchanan:--

Should I rejoice, or should my heart despair, That Beton's yoke the Fates have made me bear? O, Comeliness, what need have I of thee, When hope of mutual love is dead for me? For favours such as these, in life's young day, E'en life had seemed no heavy price to pay; And though my earthly bliss had been but brief, Its fulness would have soothed my dying grief; Now, ling'ring fires consume; I lack life's joy, And death would bring me comfort, not annoy; In life, in death, be this my comfort still, That life and death are at my Lady's will.

The third epigram is more particularly interesting, as bearing reference, we think, to Mary Beton's literary tastes:--

Beneath cold Winter's blast the fields are bare, Nor yield a posy for my Lady fair; E'en so my Muse, luxuriant in her prime, Has felt the chill and numbing grip of time; Could lovely Beton's spirit but inspire, 'Twere Spring again, with all its life and fire.

The will drawn up by Mary Stuart, in 1556, which, it is true, never took effect, seems to point to Mary Beton as the most scholarly amongst the maids of honour. It is to her that the French, English, and Italian books in the royal collection are bequeathed; the classical authors being reserved for the University of St. Andrews, where they were intended to form the nucleus of a library: "Je laysse mes liuures qui y sont en Grec ou Latin à l'université de Sintandre, pour y commencer une bible. Les aultres ie les laysse à Beton."[94]

This is further borne out by the fact that, many years later, William Fowler, secretary to Queen Anne of Denmark, wife of James VI, dedicated his "Lamentatioun of the desolat Olympia, furth of the tenth cantt of Ariosto" "to the right honourable ladye Marye Betoun, Ladye Boine". Of the literary accomplishments which may fairly be inferred from these circumstances, we have, however, no further proof. Nothing of Mary Beton's has come down to us, except a letter, addressed by her in June, 1563, to the wife of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, whose acquaintance she may have made either in France or in Scotland, Sir Nicholas having been English Ambassador in both countries. In this short document the writer acknowledges the receipt of a ring, assures the giver that she will endeavour to return her love by making her commendations to the Queen, and begs her acceptance in return, and as a token of their good love and amity, of a little ring which she has been accustomed to wear daily.[95]

In the month of May, 1566, Mary Beton married Alexander Ogilvie, of Boyne. But little is known of this marriage beyond the fact that the Queen named the day, and beyond such circumstances of a purely legal and technical nature as may be gathered from the marriage contract, which is still extant, and has been published in the Miscellany of the Maitland Club. It sets forth that the bride was to have a dowry from her father of 3000 merks, and a jointure from her husband of lands yielding 150 merks and 30 chalders of grain yearly. This legal document derives its chief interest from bringing together in a friendly transaction persons who played important and hostile parts in the most interesting period of Scottish history. It bears the signatures of the Queen and Henry Darnley, together with those of the Earls of Huntly, Argyll, Bothwell, Murray, and Atholl, as cautioners for the bridegroom, that of Alexander Ogilvie himself, who subscribes his territorial style of "Boyne" and that of "Marie Bethune". The signature of the bride's father, and that of Michael Balfour, of Burleigh, his cautioner for payment of his daughter's tocher, are wanting.

It would appear that Mary Beton, or, as she was usually called after her marriage, "the Lady Boyn", or "Madame de Boyn", did not immediately retire from the Court. In what capacity, however, she kept up her connection with it, cannot be ascertained. All that we have been able to discover is that after her marriage she received several gifts of ornaments and robes from the Queen. Amongst the latter we notice a dress which was scarcely calculated to suit the fair beauty: "Une robbe de satin jeaulne dore toute goffree faicte a manches longues toute chamaree de bisette d'argent bordee dung passement geaulne goffre d'argent!"[96]

Both Mary Beton and Alexander Ogilvie are said to have been living as late as 1606. All that is known as to the date of her death is that it occurred before that of her husband, who, in his old age, married the divorced wife of Bothwell, the Countess Dowager of Sutherland.

It is interesting to note the contrast between the comparatively uneventful reality of Mary Beton's life and the romantic career assigned to her in one of the best-known works of fiction that introduces her in connection with her royal and ill-fated mistress. In Mr. Swinburne's _Mary Stuart_, the catastrophe is brought about by Mary Beton. For some score of years, from that day forth when she beheld the execution of him on whom she is supposed to have bestowed her unrequited love, of the chivalrous, impetuous Chastelard, when her eyes "beheld fall the most faithful head in all the world", Mary Beton, "dumb as death", has been waiting for the expiation, waiting

Even with long suffering eagerness of heart And a most hungry patience.

It is by her action in forwarding to Elizabeth the letter in which Mary Stuart summed up all the charges brought against her rival, that the royal captive's doom is hastened, that Chastelard's death is avenged. It would be the height of hypercritical absurdity to find fault with the poet for the use which he has made of a character which can scarcely be called historical. Nevertheless, as it is often from fiction alone that we gather our knowledge of the minor characters of history--of those upon which more serious records, engrossed with the jealousies of crowned heads, with the intrigues of diplomatists and the wrangles of theologians, have no attention to bestow--it does not seem altogether useless at least to point out how little resemblance there is between the Mary Beton of real life and the Nemesis of the drama.

FOOTNOTES: for MARY BETON

[91] _Inventories_, xlviii.

[92] _Calendar of State Papers relating to Scotland_, vol. i, p. 208.

[93] _Inventories_, p. xlviii.

[94] _Inventories_, p. 124.

[95] _Calendar of State Papers relating to Scotland_, vol. ii, p. 825.

[96] _Inventories_, p. 63.

MARY SETON

"The secund wyf of the said Lord George (Marie Pieris, ane Frenche woman, quha come in Scotland with Quene Marie, dochter to the Duik of Gweis) bair to him tua sonnis and ane dochter ... the dochter Marie." This extract from Sir Richard Maitland's _History of the House of Seton_ gives us the parentage of the fourth of the Maries.[97] She was the daughter of a house in which loyalty and devotion to the Stuarts was traditional. In the darkest pages of their history the name of the Setons is always found amongst those of the few faithful friends whom danger could not frighten nor promises tempt from their allegiance. In this respect Mary Seton's French mother was worthy of the family into which she was received. At the death of Marie de Guise, Dame Pieris transferred not only her services, but her love also, to the infant Queen, and stood by her with blind devotion under some of the most trying circumstances of her short career as reigning sovereign. The deposition of French Paris gives us a glimpse of her, attending on Mary and conferring secretly with Bothwell on the morning after the King's murder. At a later date we find her conspiring with the Queen's friends at what was known as the council "of the witches of Atholl", and subsequently imprisoned, with her son, for having too freely expressed her loyalty to her mistress.[98] We may, therefore, almost look upon it as the natural result of Mary Seton's training, and of her family associations, that she is pre-eminently the Queen's companion in adversity. It seems characteristic of this that no individual mention occurs of her as bearing any part in the festivities of the Court, or sharing her mistress's amusements. Her first appearance coincides with the last appearance of Mary Livingston in connection with Mary Stuart. When the Queen, after her surrender at Carberry, was ignominiously dragged in her nightdress through the streets of her capital, her faltering steps were supported by Mary Livingston and Mary Seton. At Lochleven, Mary Seton, still in attendance on her mistress, bore an important part in her memorable flight, a part more dangerous, perhaps, than Jane Kennedy's traditional leap from the window, for it consisted in personating the Queen within the castle, whilst the flight was taking place, and left her at the mercy of the disappointed jailers when faithful Willie Douglas had brought it to a successful issue.[99] How she fared at this critical moment, or how she herself contrived to regain her liberty, is not recorded; but it is certain that before long she had resumed her honourable but perilous place by the side of her royal mistress. It is scarcely open to doubt that the one maid of honour who stood with the Queen on the eminence whence she beheld the fatal battle of Langside was the faithful Mary Seton.

Although, so far as we have been able to ascertain, Mary Seton's name does not occur amongst those of the faithful few who fled with the Queen from the field of Langside to Sanquhar and Dundrennan, and although the latter actually states in the letter which she wrote to the Cardinal de Lorraine, on the 21st of June, that for three nights after the battle she had fled across country, without being accompanied by any female attendant, we need have no hesitation in stating that Mary Seton must have been amongst the eighteen who, when the infatuated Mary resolved on trusting herself to the protection of Elizabeth, embarked with her in a fishing smack at Dundrennan, and landed at Workington. A letter written by Sir Francis Knollys to Cecil, on the 28th of June, makes particular mention of Mary Seton as one of the waiting-women in attendance on the Queen, adding further particulars which clearly point to the fact that she had been so for at least several days:--

Now here are six waiting-women, although none of reputation, but Mistress Mary Seton, who is praised by this Queen to be the finest busker, that is to say, the finest dresser of a woman's head of hair, that is to be seen in any country whereof we have seen divers experiences, since her coming hither. And, among other pretty devices, yesterday and this day, she did set such a curled hair upon the Queen, that was said to be a perewyke, that showed very delicately. And every other day she hath a new device of head-dressing, without any cost, and yet setteth forth a woman gaylie well.[100]

For the next nine years Mary Seton disappears almost entirely in the monotony of her self-imposed exile and captivity. A casual reference to her, from time to time, in the Queen's correspondence, is the only sign we have of her existence. Thus, in a letter written from Chatsworth, in 1570, to the Archbishop of Glasgow, to inform him of the death of his brother, John Beton, laird of Creich, and to request him to send over Andrew Beton to act as Master of the Household, Mary Stuart incidentally mentions her maid of honour in terms which, however, convey but little information concerning her, beyond that of her continued devotion to her mistress and her affection for her mistress's friends. "Vous avez une amye en Seton," so the Queen writes, "qui sera aussi satisfayte, en votre absence, de vous servir de bonne amye que parente ou aultre que puissiez avoir aupres de moy, pour l'affection qu'elle porte à tous ceulx qu'elle connait m'avoyr esté fidèles serviteurs."

The royal prisoner's correspondence for the year 1574 gives us another glimpse of her faithful attendant, "qui tous les jours me fayct service tres agreable," and for whom the Archbishop is requested to send over from Paris a watch and alarum. "La monstre que je demande est pour Seton. Si n'en pouvez trouver une faite, faites la faire, simple et juste, suyvant mon premier mémoyre, avec le reveil-matin à part."[101]

Three years must again elapse before Mary Seton's next appearance. On this occasion, however, in 1577, she assumes special importance, and figures as the chief character in a romantic little drama which Mary Stuart herself has sketched for us in two letters written from her prison in Sheffield to Archbishop Beton.

It will be remembered that when, in 1570, death deprived Queen Mary of the services of John Beton, her Master of the Household, she requested that his younger brother should be sent over from Paris to supply his place. In due time Andrew Beton appeared at Sheffield and entered upon his honourable but profitless duties. He was necessarily brought into daily contact with Mary Seton, for whom he soon formed a strong affection, and whom he sought in marriage. The maid of honour, a daughter of the proud house of Winton, does not appear to have felt flattered by the attentions of Beton, who, though, "de fort bonne maison", according to Brantôme,[102] was but the younger son of a younger son. Despairing of success on his own merits, Andrew Beton at last wrote to his brother, the Archbishop, requesting him to engage their royal mistress's influence in furtherance of his suit. The Queen, with whom, as we know, match-making was an amiable weakness, accepted the part offered her, and the result of her negotiations is best explained by her own letter to the Archbishop:--

According to the promise conveyed to you in my last letter, I have, on three several occasions, spoken to my maid. After raising several objections based on the respect due to the honour of her house--according to the custom of my country--but more particularly on the vow which she alleges, and which she maintains, can neither licitly nor honourably be broken, she has at last yielded to my remonstrances and earnest persuasions, and dutifully submitted to my commands, as being those of a good mistress and of one who stands to her in the place of a mother, trusting that I shall have due consideration both for her reputation and for the confidence which she has placed in me. Therefore, being anxious to gratify you in so good an object, I have taken it upon myself to obtain for her a dispensation from her alleged vow, which I hold to be null. If the opinion of theologians should prove to coincide with mine in this matter, it shall be my care to see to the rest. In doing so, however, I shall change characters, for, as she has confidently placed herself in my hands, I shall have to represent not your interests, but hers. Now, as regards the first point, our man, whom I called into our presence, volunteered a little rashly, considering the difficulties which will arise, to undertake the journey himself, to bring back the dispensation, after having consulted with you as to the proper steps to be taken, and to be with us again within three months, bringing you with him. I shall request a passport for him; do you, on your part, use your best endeavours for him; they will be needed, considering the circumstances under which I am placed. Furthermore, it will be necessary to write to the damsel's brother, to know how far he thinks I may go without appearing to give too little weight to the difference of degree and title.[103]

After having penned this interesting and well-meaning epistle, the Queen communicated it to Mary Seton, to whom, however, it did not appear a fair statement of the case, and for whose satisfaction a postscript was added:--

I have shown the above to the maiden, and she accuses me of over-partiality in this, that for shortness' sake, I have omitted some of the circumstances of her dutiful submission to me, in making which she still entertained a hope that some regard should be had for her vow, even though it prove to be null, and that her inclination should also be consulted, which has long been, and more especially since our captivity, rather in favour of remaining in her present state than of entering that of marriage. I have promised her to set this before you, and to give it, myself, that consideration which is due to her confidence in me. Furthermore, I have assured her that, should I be led to persuade her to enter into that state which is least agreeable to her, it would only be because my conscience told me that it was the better for her, and that there was no danger of the least blame being attached to her. She makes a great point of the disparity of rank and titles, and mentions in support of this that she heard fault found with the marriage of the sisters Livingston, merely for having wedded the younger sons of their peers, and she fears that, in a country where such formalities are observed, her own friends may have a similar opinion of her. But, as the Queen of both of them, I have undertaken to assume the whole responsibility, and to do all that my present circumstances will allow, to make matters smooth. You need, therefore, take no further trouble about this, beyond getting her brother to let us know his candid opinion.

With his mistress's good wishes, and with innumerable commissions from her ladies, Andrew Beton set out on his mission. Whether the dispensation was less easy to obtain than he at first fancied, or whether other circumstances, perhaps of a political nature, arose to delay him, twice the three months within which he had undertaken to return to Sheffield had elapsed before information of his homeward journey was received. He had been successful in obtaining a theological opinion favourable to his suit, but it appeared that Mary Seton's objections to matrimony were not to be removed with her vow. This seems to be the meaning of a letter written to Beton by Mary Stuart, in which, after telling him that she will postpone the discussion of his affairs till his return, she pointedly adds that Mary Seton's letters to him must have sufficiently informed him as to her decision, and that she herself, though willing to help him by showing her hearty approval of the match, could give no actual commands in the matter. A similar letter to the Archbishop seems to point to a belief on Mary's part that, in spite of the dispensation, the match would never be concluded, and that Beton would meet with a bitter disappointment on his return to Sheffield. It was destined, however, that he should never again behold either his royal lady or her for whom he had undertaken the journey. He died on his way homewards; but we have no knowledge where or under what circumstances. The first intimation of the event is contained, as are, indeed, most of the details belonging to this period, in the Queen's correspondence. In a letter bearing the date of the 5th of November she expresses to the Archbishop her regret at the failure of her project to unite the Betons and the Setons, as well as at the personal loss she had sustained by the death of a faithful subject and servant.[104]

With this episode our knowledge of Mary Seton's history is nearly exhausted. There is no further reference to her in the correspondence of the next six years, during which she continued to share her Queen's captivity. About the year 1583, when her own health had broken down under the hardships to which she was subjected in the various prisons to which she followed Mary Stuart, she begged and obtained permission to retire to France. The remainder of her life was spent in the seclusion of the abbey of St. Peter's, at Rheims, over which Renée de Lorraine, the Queen's maternal aunt, presided.

The last memorial which we have of Mary Seton is a touching proof of the affection which she still bore her hapless Queen, and of the interest with which, from her convent cell, she still followed the course of events. It is a letter, written in October, 1586, to Courcelles, the new French Ambassador at Holyrood; it refers to her long absence from Scotland, and concludes with an expression of regret at the fresh troubles which had befallen the captive Queen.

I cannot conclude without telling you the extreme pain and anxiety I feel at the distressing news which has been reported here, that some new trouble has befallen the Queen, my mistress. Time will not permit me to tell you more.[105]

It may be supposed that what the faithful maid of honour had heard was connected with Babington's conspiracy and its fateful failure.

FOOTNOTES: for MARY SETON

[97] P. 42.

[98] _Inventories_, p. lii.

[99] Miss Strickland's _Lives of the Queens of Scotland_, vol. vii, pp. 266, 271, 441.

[100] G. Chalmers' _Life of Queen Mary_, vol. i, pp. 443-4.

[101] Labanoff, op. cit., t. vii, p. 123; t. iii, p. 116; t. iv, p. 215.

[102] T. v, p. 98.

[103] The original is written in French.

[104] Labanoff, op. cit., t. iv, pp. 341-4, 377-81, 389, 390, 401, 402.

[105] _Calendar of State Papers relating to Scotland_, vol. ii, p. 1014.

THE SONG OF MARY STUART

An Undetected Forgery

Those who are acquainted with Brantôme's delightful collection of biographical sketches of Illustrious Ladies, will remember that one of the most noteworthy of them is devoted to Marie Stuart. In it, amongst many other interesting details, he states that the Queen used to compose verses, and that he had seen some "that were fine and well done, and in no wise similar to those which have been laid to her account, on the subject of her love for the Earl of Bothwell, and which are too coarse and ill-polished to have been of her making". In another passage he says that Mary "made a song herself upon her sorrows"; and he quotes it.[106] For close on two centuries and a half the "_Chanson de Marie Stuart_", as given by him, has been reproduced in biographies of the Queen of Scots, and has found its way into numberless albums and anthologies. That it should have been accepted without hesitation on Brantôme's authority is hardly surprising. Of those who have written from personal acquaintance with Mary, few were in a better position than was the French chronicler to know the truth about her. He remembered her from her very childhood. He was familiar with all the circumstances of her training and education at Saint-Germain. He had witnessed the precocious development of the talents which excited the admiration of the courtiers that gathered about Henry II and Catharine de' Medici. He did not lose sight of her when, at a later date, her marriage with the heir to the crown of France gave her a household of her own in the stately residence of Villers-Côterets. He witnessed the enthusiasm which greeted her as Queen-Consort, as well as the deep and universal sympathy which her early bereavement called forth; and when the "White Queen", the dowager of seventeen, left the country of her affection to undertake the heavy task of governing her northern kingdom, he was amongst those who accompanied her on her fateful journey. In the circumstances, it did not occur, even to those who, knowing Brantôme's character, might feel that much allowance was to be made for the conventional enthusiasm of the courtier, to suspect that any of his statements concerning Mary Stuart was to be rejected as wholly devoid of foundation. And yet, we are in a position to prove that, in one instance, he asserted what he knew to be false; and we shall follow that up by producing the strongest evidence in support of the further charge that he was guilty of a literary forgery.

In his sketch of Mary Stuart, Brantôme does not place her "Song" where it would most naturally be looked for, that is, immediately after the passage in which he refers to her poetical talent. He introduces it clumsily, and in a way which, though perhaps not sufficient of itself to justify suspicion, is, at least, calculated to strengthen it when once it has been aroused. He begins by giving a description of the Queen, as she appeared in her white widow's weeds. "It was", he says, "a beautiful sight to see her, for the whiteness of her face vied for pre-eminence with the whiteness of her veil. But, in the end, it was the artificial whiteness of her veil that had to yield, and the snow of her fair complexion effaced the other. And so there was written at Court a song about her in her mourning garments. It was thus:" and here the anonymous poem is quoted. It consists of two stanzas, each containing six short lines. They depict the Goddess of Beauty, attired in white, wandering about, with the shaft of her inhuman son in her hand, whilst Cupid himself is fluttering over her, with the bandage, which he has removed from his eyes, doing duty as a funereal veil on which are inscribed the words: "Mourir ou estre pris". These verses, in which it is difficult to discover any special application to the widowed Queen, are followed, though not immediately, by a reference to her bereavement: "Hers was a happiness of short duration, and one which evil fortune might well have respected on this occasion; but, spiteful as she is, she would not be deterred from thus cruelly treating the Princess, who herself composed the following song on her loss and affliction". The poem thus attributed to Mary is then brought in. It consists of the eleven well-known stanzas, and begins with the line "En mon triste et doux chant"--"In my sad and sweet strains". Nobody ever thought of questioning its genuineness. The obviously fragmentary nature of the first poem, and the similarity of rhythm and metre in both did not suggest the possibility of a connection between them. Nor did it appear to be incongruous and in bad taste that, if the Queen undertook to write her own elegy, she should begin by praising its sweetness. A comparatively recent discovery, however, has placed it beyond doubt that Brantôme wittingly foisted on his readers verses which he very well knew had not been written by Mary Stuart.

Some years ago, whilst hunting through the dusty shelves of an old bookshop at Périgueux, Dr. E. Galy chanced upon a manuscript collection of poems of the sixteenth century. The gilt-edged and leather-bound folio was found to consist of two distinct parts. The first contained, together with a few anonymous poems, extracts from the works of Clément Marot, Pierre de Ronsard, and other writers of the period. The second, and, from the literary point of view, more interesting section was made up of a number of poems, chiefly sonnets, composed by Brantôme, and bearing the general title: _Recueil d'aulcunes rymes de mes Jeunes Amours que j'ay d'aultres fois composées telles quelles_, that is, "Collection of Certain Rhymes of my early loves, which I formerly composed, such as they are". This portion of the manuscript was published for private circulation, by the fortunate finder, to whose kindness we were indebted for a copy of the first edition of the hitherto unsuspected poetical works of Pierre de Bourdeille, Lord Abbot of Brantôme, Baron of Richemont.[107]

In the first division of the collection a very interesting discovery was made. It was found to contain both the anonymous "Song" composed "at Court", in honour of Mary Stuart, and the "Song" attributed to the Queen herself. The two poems, it was now seen, were not originally distinct, the anonymous verses being merely an introduction to the longer "Song", and joined to it by three stanzas, which are neither quoted nor alluded to in Brantôme's sketch of Mary. In its new form, and as it was published in a very limited edition of one hundred copies by Dr. Galy, the _Chanson pour la Royne d'Ecosse portant le dueil_,[108] is by no means a masterpiece. It has, however, the merit of composing an harmonious whole. The "Complaint" is preceded by an introduction which, both as regards its length and the train of thought running through it, is not out of keeping with the subject. It is followed by a concluding stanza, which, though not absolutely necessary, gives fullness and completeness to the picture called up by the elegy. One advantage which the new version of the longer song possesses over the old is the modification of the first jarring line. "En mon triste et doux chant," becomes "J'oy son triste et doux chant," that is, "I hear her sad and sweet strains". This reading adapts itself to the context, and connects the descriptive stanzas with those of the lament in a simple and natural manner.

As Dr. Galy pointed out, the new version of the "Song", to which, it should be stated, no author's name is attached, established, on the authority of Brantôme himself, that he had attributed to Mary Stuart verses which he knew were not hers. It did not, however, afford any clue to the real authorship, and the possibility that the whole poem was of Brantôme's own composition does not seem to have occurred to Dr. Galy. That such is the case is our firm belief. A careful comparison of the anonymous "Chanson" with the various poems avowedly by Brantôme has revealed such similarity, not only of thought and imagery, but even of expression, as convinces us that nobody but himself can be the author of _The Song of Mary Stuart_.

The 102nd sonnet in Brantôme's collection is one which he addressed to Mlle de Limeuil. Not only is the whole tone of it strikingly similar to that of the "Song", but it contains passages which cannot be explained away on the assumption of mere chance resemblance. Thus, in the thirteenth stanza of the "Song", Mary is represented as seeing her husband if she happens to look into the water: "Soudain le voy en l'eau". In the sonnet, Brantôme says; "_Soudain_ il m'advise qu'_en l'eau je voy_ Limeuil". In the first part of the same stanza, the mourning Queen is supposed to behold in the clouds the features of her lost husband. The same idea, expressed in similar language, and with precisely the same rhymes, occurs in some stanzas which Brantôme addressed to a lady "Sur un ennuy qui luy survint". The main idea of the "Song"--that of the sorrowing lady followed by the image of her lost love, wherever she may wander--recurs repeatedly in the sonnets, of which, indeed, several may, without exaggeration, be described as mere expansions of some of the lines in the "Song". Altogether, we have noted distinct parallelisms to five of the stanzas in the alleged "Chanson". When it is remembered that, as Brantôme gives it, it consists of no more than eleven stanzas, the proportion must appear striking. In addition to this, it must also be noted that, in the eleven stanzas of the lament itself, there are a number of variants--we have counted nine altogether--which, not being attributable to inaccurate copying, or necessary for mere adaptation, testify to a deliberate revision, hardly likely to have been the work of anyone but the original author. In the face of such evidence it seems to us that no alternative is left, and that we must place Brantôme on the same level as Meunier de Querlon, who published the once popular song, "Adieu, plaisant pays de France," and attributed it to Mary Stuart, though he was himself the author of it. Indeed, of the two, Brantôme is the less excusable; for, in his case, it cannot be pleaded as an extenuating circumstance, as it can in that of de Querlon, that he subsequently acknowledged his "mystification". In any case, there seems to be no reasonable doubt that we must diminish by one the number of poems hitherto believed to have been written by Mary Stuart.

Though the "Song" can no longer claim the authorship of Mary Stuart, it still retains some interest by reason of its strange story. To the best of our knowledge, the original and complete poem, of which, as we have stated, only 100 copies were published in France, for private circulation, has never been reproduced in this country. We therefore append it.

CHANSON POUR LA ROYNE D'ECOSSE

PORTANT LE DUEIL.

Je voy, sous blanc atour, En grand dueil et tristesse, Se pourmener maint tour De beauté la Déesse; Tenant le traict en main De son filz inhumain.

II

Et Amour, sans fronteau. Vollette à l'entour d'elle, Desguisant son bandeau En un funèbre voelle Où sont ces mots escrits: "Mourir ou estre pris".

III

Deux arcs victorieux Je voy sous blanche toyle, Et sous chacun d'iceux Une plus claire estoille Qu'au plus net et pur aër Du ciel l'astre plus clair.

IV

Et du haut d'un rocher, Je voy singlant maint voile D'un fanal s'approcher, Dont la clarté est telle Que sans elle tous lieux Me semblent ténébreux.

V

Je voy, d'ordre marchant, Une troupe dolente Peu à peu s'approchant D'une Dame excellente, Qui de piteuse voix Fait retentir un bois.

VI

J'oy son triste et doux chant, Qui, d'un ton lamentable, Jette un regret trenchant De perte incomparable, Et, en souspirs cuisants Passe ses meilleurs ans.

VII

"Fut-il de tel malheur De dure destinée, Ne si juste douleur De Dame fortunée, Qui mon coeur et mon oeil Voy en bière et cercueil!

VIII

"Qui, en mon doux printemps Et fleur de ma jeunesse, Toutes les peines sens D'une extrême tristesse, Et en rien n'ay plaisir Qu'en regret et désir.

IX

"Ce qui m'estoit plaisant Ores m'est peine dure, Le jour le plus luisant M'est nuit noire et obscure, Et n'est rien si exquis. Qui de moi soit requis.

X

"J'ay au coeur et en l'oeil Un portraict et image Qui figure mon dueil En mon pasle visage De violettes teint, Qui est l'amoureux teint.

XI

"Pour mon mal estranger Je ne m'arreste en place, Mais j'ai beau lieu changer Si ma douleur j'efface, Car mon pis et mon mieux Sont les plus déserts lieux.

XII

"Si en quelque séjour Suis, en bois ou en prée Soit sur l'aube du jour Ou soit sur la vesprée, Sans cesse mon coeur sent Le regret d'un absent.

XIII

"Si parfois vers les cieux Viens à dresser ma veüe, Le doux traict de ses yeux Je voy en une nue; Soudain le voy en l'eau Comme dans une tombeau.

XIV

"Si je suis en repos, Sommeillant sur ma couche, J'oy qu'il me tient propos, Je le sens qui me touche; En labeur ou requoy Toujours est près de moi.

XV

"Je ne voy autre object Pour beau qu'il se présente; A qui que soit subject Oncques mon coeur consente, Exempt de perfection A ceste affection.

XVI

"Mets, chanson, icy frain A si triste complainte, Dont sera le refrain: 'Amour vraye et non faincte Pour séparation N'a diminution'."

XVII

Tel estoit le doux chant De Dame souveraine, Qui, mon coeur arrachant D'une fuite soudaine, Me donna en ce lieu Coup mortel d'un Adieu.

We recall that the stanzas which we have numbered I and II constitute the Song which, according to Brantôme, was composed "at Court"; and that those from VI to XVI, inclusively, are, with an alteration of the first line, and some slight variations elsewhere, what he called the Song of Mary Stuart herself. The title, the three connecting stanzas III-V, and also the last, XVII, were discovered in the Périgueux manuscript

FOOTNOTES: for THE SONG OF MARY STUART

[106] T. v, pp. 84, 85, 88-90, 123.

[107] Périgueux, Cassard frères.

[108] _Ibid._

MAISTER RANDOLPHE'S FANTASIE

A Suppressed Satire

About the middle of May, 1566, Robert Melvill was dispatched by Mary, Queen of Scots, as a special envoy to the English Court. The ostensible purpose of his mission was to request Queen Elizabeth to stand godmother to the royal infant whose birth was shortly expected.[109] And it was, indeed, with this object that his journey had, in the first instance, been resolved upon. But, three or four days before the time originally fixed for his departure,[110] he had been hastily summoned to Holyrood and ordered to set out at once, and with all speed, on an errand of a very different kind. According to the tenor of his later instructions, he was the bearer not of a friendly message from Mary Stuart to her loving cousin, but of a bitter complaint from the Queen of Scotland to the English sovereign. Mary had been informed by one of her agents at Berwick that "there was a booke wrytten agaynst her, of her lyf and govermente".[111] Though possessing no actual knowledge of the contents of the obnoxious libel and acquainted with its general tone and purport only, she had "taken it so grevouslye as noth[=y]ge of longe time had come so near her hearte".[112] Not only did she resent the insult as a sovereign, but she also felt the outrage as a woman, and expressed her fear lest, having come to her so suddenly and at so critical a time, the unwelcome intelligence "sholde breed daynger to her byrthe or hurte to her selfe".[113] And Melvill had been hurried off to London to inform Elizabeth of the crime committed by one of her subjects, "that in tyme this worke mighte be suppressed and",[114] more important still, "condign punishment taken upon the wryter"; for by this means alone, the indignant Queen declared, could it be made apparent that he was not "mayntayned against her, not only by advise and counsell to move her subiects agaynste her, but also by defamations and falce reports mayke her odious to the werlde".[115]

The work at which such grievous offence had been taken was entitled _Maister Randolphe's Fantasie_, and the informant who had given Mary notice of its publication had also assured her that it was in reality what it purported to be, the production of the agent who, till within a short time previously, had represented England at the Scottish Court. She accepted the charge without question and without doubt. In her mind Thomas Randolph was associated with all the intrigues which had culminated in the open defection and organized opposition of the most powerful of her nobles, and she felt conscious of having treated him with a harshness calculated to add an ardent desire for revenge to the malevolent intentions by which she believed him to be actuated. During the last six months of his residence in Edinburgh he had been subjected to a series of petty vexations, of personal attacks and of open accusations, which even his avowed partisanship could not justify, and which were not less discreditable to the instigators of them than insulting to the sovereign whom he represented. On the formation of the league to which Mary's marriage with Darnley had given rise he had been threatened with punishment "for practising with the Queen's rebels".[116] Mary herself had shown her displeasure in so marked a manner that Randolph had sent to England a formal complaint of the difficulties thrown into his way by her refusal to give him access to her presence, even on official business.[117] When at last she did grant him an audience, it was not for purposes of political negotiation, but solely to upbraid him "for his many evil offices" towards her.[118] The dread of immediate imprisonment,[119] and the personal violence to which he was actually subjected,[120] had rendered his position so intolerable that he petitioned for permission to retire to Berwick.[121] His request was denied him; but the consequences of the refusal soon showed how ill-advised had been the action of those who had insisted upon his continuance in functions for which he now lacked the essential conditions of favour and security. In the beginning of the following year he was summoned before the Queen in Council, and publicly accused of abetting the Earl of Murray in his treasonable designs, and supplying him with funds to carry them out.[122] In spite of his direct and explicit denial of a charge which was in reality without foundation, he was ignominiously ordered to leave the country.[123] Anxious as he had been to be relieved from duties which had become as dangerous as they were difficult, Randolph nevertheless refused to obey. He appealed from Mary and her Lords to Elizabeth, to the sovereign to whom he owed his allegiance, and was answerable for his conduct, by whose favour he had been appointed to a position of confidence and honour, and at whose command alone he would consent to surrender his trust. On hearing the slight which had been put upon her accredited representative, the Queen of England took up his cause with characteristic promptitude and energy. She at once dispatched a letter to the Queen of Scots complaining "of her strange and uncourteous treatment of Mr. Randolph",[124] and informing her that his departure from Edinburgh would be the signal for the dismissal of the Scottish agent from the English Court. In spite of Elizabeth's remonstrances, and in the face of a threat which was so far from being idly meant that it was peremptorily carried out less than a fortnight later,[125] Randolph's expulsion was insisted upon. After having twice again received orders from the Lords,[126] he at length yielded to necessity and retired across the Border to Berwick.

That Randolph, smarting under such treatment, should have made use of his enforced leisure and of the knowledge which he had had special opportunities for acquiring to write a book by which he hoped to injure her cause and tarnish her reputation, doubtless seemed to Mary to be so natural that she deemed it unnecessary to institute further enquiries into the truth of the charge brought against him. His guilt was assumed as soon as the accusation was made, and, by a singular coincidence, if, indeed, it was not of set purpose, the same Minister whose dismissal had followed his own disgrace was sent back to Elizabeth to demand his punishment.

Randolph's reply was not delayed. He was at Berwick when Melvill passed through it on his way to London, and learnt directly from his own lips all the particulars of the alleged libel, of the Queen's anger, and of her determination to bring down exemplary chastisement upon the offender's head. At once availing himself of the advantage which this early information afforded him, he drew up an emphatic and indignant denial of the whole indictment and a firm vindication of his conduct at the Scottish Court. He wrote with a manly frankness and dignity which are not always characteristic of his correspondence, adding considerable weight to his solemn protestations of innocence by the candid avowal of the suspicion with which he viewed the Queen's policy, and to which he had more than once given expression in his official communications to the home Government. "I coulde hardelye have beleved,"[127] he said, "that anye suche reporte coulde have come owte of this towne to that Q: or that her g. wolde upon so slender information so suddaynlie agayne gyve credit to anye such report, in specaill that she wolde so hastelye w^{th}owte farther assurance thus grevouslye accuse me to my Soveraign. The rem[=e]brance hereof hathe some what greved me, but beinge so well hable to purge my selfe of anye suche crime, and knowinge before whom I shal be accused and hearde, with suche indifferencie as I neade not to dowte of any partialitie, and pardoned to stond stiflye in defence of my honestie, I condene my selfe that I sholde tayke anye such care as almoste to pass what is sayde of me by suche, as throughe blamynge of me wolde culler suche Iniuries as I have knowne and daylye see done to my mestres, to my Soveraign and Countrie, to w^{ch} I am borne, w^{ch} I will serve w^{th} boddie and lyf trewlye, and carles what beco[=m]ethe of me, more desierus to leave behynde me the name of a trewe servante then to possesse greate wealthe. I, therfore, in the presence of God and by my allegens to my Soveraign, affirme trewlye and advisedlye, that I never wrote booke agaynste her, or gave my consent or advise to anye that ever was wrytten, nor at this hower do knowe of anye that ever was set forthe to her defamation or dyshonour, or yet ever lyked of anye suche that ever dyd the lyke. And that this is trewe, yt shalbe mayntayned and defended as beco[=m]ethe one that oughte to have greater regarde of his honestie and trothe then he doth regarde what beco[=m]ethe of his lyf. I knowe that vnto your h: I have wrytten divers times maynie thynges straynge to be hearde of in a princesse that boore so greate a brute and fame of honour and vertu, as longe tyme she dyd. I confesse a mislykinge of her doings towards my mestres. I feared ever that w^{ch} still I stonde in dowte of, les over myche credit sholde be given whear lyttle is mente that is spoken. I wolde not that anye waye my mestres sholde be abused, w^{ch} made me wryte in greater vehemencie and more ernestlye then in matters of les consequence; but yf yt be ever provyd that I ever falcelye imagined anye thinge agaynste her, or untrewlye reported y^{t} w^{ch} I have hearde willinglye, or dyd reveele that w^{ch} I do knowe to anye man, savinge to suche as I am bounde ether for deuties sake, or by co[=m]andemente, I am contente to tayke this crime upon me, and to be defamed for a villayne, never to be better thought of then as mover of sedition and breeder of dyscorde betwene princes, as her g: hathe termed me. Of that w^{ch} I have wrytten to yo^{r} h: I am sure ther is nothynge come to her eares; w^{ch} was so farre from my mynde to put in a booke, that I have byne maynie tymes sorrie to wryte yt vnto yo^{r} h: from whome I knowe that I ought to keape nothynge whearby the Q. Ma^{tie} myght vnderstonde this Q: state, or be assured what is her mynde towards her. Yf in this accusation I be founde giltles bothe in deade and thoughte (thoughe more be to be desyered of a gentleman that livethe onlye by the princes credit, and seekethe no other estimation then is wone by faythefull and trewe service) yet I will fynde my selfe satisfied, myche honered by the Q. Ma^{tie} and bounde vnto y^{r} h: that such triall maye be had of this matter that yt maye be knowne w^{ch} way and by whome in this towne anye suche reporte sholde come to her g: eares; w^{ch} I require more for the daynger that maye growe vnto this place to have suche persones in it, then I desyer my selfe anye revenge, or, in so falce matters do mayke greate accompte what anye man saythe or howe theis reporte of me, for that I am assured that more shame and dyshono^r shalbe theirs in their falce accusations, then ther cane be blamed towards me in my well doynge."

In the face of this unqualified disclaimer, it would have required not merely suspicion founded on the unsupported assertion of a nameless informer, but the most direct and irrefutable evidence, to substantiate the charge brought against Randolph. His letter bore its own confirmation on the face of it. It was not meant for the public, who might perhaps have been put off by high-sounding phrases and protestations; neither was it intended for the Scottish Queen, who, though better informed, had no special facilities for testing the statements which it contained. It was addressed to Cecil, to the Minister with whom Randolph had been in constant correspondence for years, to whom he had communicated the trifling events of each day--incidents of Court life and scraps of Court gossip--who knew the extent of his experience of Scottish affairs, and was as familiar with his views as with his peculiarities of style and diction in expressing them; to the last man, in short, whom it would have been possible to hoodwink as to the authorship of a work bearing traces of either the hand or the inspiration of his subordinate.

But, if Randolph had been the author of the poem bearing his name, besides being deterred from any attempt at deception by the almost certainty of failure, he would doubtless have remembered that Cecil was one of the bitterest enemies of the Queen of Scots, and that, at the pitch which party animosity had reached, even though, for the sake of appearances, some indignation might be simulated, no serious offence was likely to be taken at a work tending to vilify the rival with whom, in spite of the hollow show of friendship still maintained, an open rupture was imminent, whose difficulties, far from calling forth sympathy, were the subject of thinly-veiled exultation, whose indiscretions were distorted into faults, and whose errors were magnified into crimes. Had he been concerned in the production of the _Fantasie_, he possessed sufficient shrewdness to know that his wisest and safest course did not lie in a denial of which the falsehood could not escape exposure, but in a confession which, whilst attended with no real danger, might actually tend to his credit.

Cecil accepted Randolph's disclaimer without demur, and in a manner which left no doubt that he was thoroughly convinced of its absolute truth. It was deemed of sufficient importance to be answered with no further delay than was rendered necessary by the slow means of communication of the time. To his letter of the 26th of May Randolph received a reply as early as the 6th of the following month. It has, unfortunately, not been preserved; but, though it is impossible to reproduce the language in which it was couched, it is easy to judge of its purport and of the tone which pervaded it. These may be gathered from the grateful acknowledgment which it called forth from Randolph. "Yt may please yo^{r} H:," he wrote in a letter dated from Berwick on the 7th of June, "that yesterdaye I receaved yo^{r} letter of the thyrde of this instant for w^{ch} I do most humblye thanke you and have therby receaved maynie thyngs to my c[=o]tentation. In speciall for the wrytinge of that fantasie or dreame called by my name, that I am thought fawltles, as in deade I am, but still greeved that I am so charged, but that waye seeke no farther to please then with my deutie maye stonde. Yf M^{r} Melvill remayne so well satysfied that he thinke me cleare, I truste that he will performe no les then he promised, that the reporter bycawse he is in this towne shalbe knowne, at the leaste yf not to me, I wolde y^{r} h: were warned of such."[128]

A few days after the receipt by Randolph of Cecil's letter, Elizabeth dispatched from Greenwich an answer to the complaints of which Melvill had been the bearer. It was a singular document in which words were skilfully used to veil the writer's meaning, and irony was disguised beneath the fairest show of sympathy. While seeming to promise complete satisfaction, it contained no expression but might be explained away, and it carefully refrained from putting forth any opinion with regard to Randolph's guilt or innocence. It began by assuring the Queen of Scots that she was not the only one who had been moved to anger on hearing of _Randolphe's Fantasie_, and by asserting, with feigned indignation, that even to dream treason was held to be a crime worthy of banishment from England, where subjects were required to be loyal not in their words merely, but in their very thoughts also; it bade her rest satisfied that, for the investigation of the subject complained of, such means should be used as would let the whole world know in what esteem her reputation was held; and it concluded by hinting at no less a punishment than death when the truth was found out: "Mais quant je lisois la fascherye en quoy vous estiez pour avoir ouy du songe de Randolphe"--so ran the letter--"je vous prometz que nestiez seule en cholere. Sy est ce que l'opinion que les songes de la nuit sont les denonciations des pensées iournelles fussent verefyez en luy, s'il n'en eust que songé et non point escript, je ne le penserois digne de Logis en mon Royaulme. Car non seulement veul je que mes subiectz ne disent mal des princes, mais que moins est, de n'en penser sinon honorablement. Et sois asseurée que pense tellement traicter ceste cause, que tout le monde verra en quel estyme je tiens [~vre] reno[=m]ée, et useray de telz moyens pour en cognoistre la vérité, qu'il ne tiendra a moy sy je ne la scache. Et la trouvant, je la laisseray a [~vre] jugement si la pugnition ne soyt digne pour telle faulte, combien que je croy que la vye d'aulcun n'en pourra bonnement equivaller la cryme."[129]

Whatever may have been Mary's opinion as to the true spirit of this reply, she saw that its language left no ground for further remonstrance. Perhaps, too, doubts may have entered her own mind as to the authenticity of the obnoxious poem. At any rate she seems to have thought it wise to urge the matter no further. It dropped and died away; no reference to it again occurs in the correspondence of the period.

It would be vain to search the literature of the sixteenth century for any trace of _Maister Randolphe's Fantasie_. No mention of it is to be found even in the most minute and detailed of contemporary chroniclers. In modern histories its very name is unknown. No copy of it is preserved in our great libraries, and if a stray one should have escaped the summary suppression which the angry Queen demanded of Elizabeth,[130] it must be lying hidden amongst pamphlets and broadsides on the shelves of some private collection. But, by some strange chance, though the printed work has disappeared, the manuscript has survived; and we are still able to satisfy our curiosity with regard to the contents of the obnoxious satire which gave such grave offence to the Queen of Scots.[131]

In the manuscript copy preserved amongst the documents of the Record Office,[132] _Maister Randolphe's Fantasie_--the sub-title of which conveys the information that it is "a breffe calgulacion of the procedinge in Scotlande from the first of Julie to the last of December"--is prefaced by an "Epistle dedicatorie" addressed "to the right worshipfull M^{r} Thomas Randolphe esquyre Resident for the Quenes Ma^{ties} affaires in Scotlande". The author begins this quaint, diffuse, and at times obscure production by setting forth the reasons which have led him to look for "some ripe and grave patronage" for his "small travell". He pleads the precedent of "eloquent wryters", who, "albeit there excellent works learnedlie compiled, needed no patronage, not onelie appeled to others learned, but sought th'awctorytie of the gravest men, to sheld them from th'arrogant curyous and impewdent reprehendors". With much rhetorical amplification he then proceeds to enumerate the qualifications which seem more particularly to designate Randolph as a fitting patron and protector. "Well may I, knowing yo^r zelous nature and inclynacion to letters attempt to royst under the protexion of yo^{r} name. Who can better judge of theis whole proceedings than you? Who can so well wyttnes it as yo^{r} dailie attendaunce? Who may better defende it then yo^{r} learned experience? Who so well deserves the memorye hereof then yo^r long and wearye service, especiallie sithence the troblesome broiles and monstrouous eschange in this transformed and blundered comon-weale? Who may so well auctoryshe the vnlearned aucto^r as yo^{r} w: to whom justlie awaytinge yo^{r} succor, simplie I retyre." From this apostrophe he passes on to a justification of his poem, in which he claims to have "delt franklie" and, "as God shall bee his judge, not pertiallie", and which he has produced solely in compliance with the earnest and repeated solicitations of influential friends. "I had not compiled this tragidye, as iustlie I may terme it", he writes, "yf some my contremen, resolved of muche better then I can or ought conceyve of my selffe, by there sundrye letters and meanes entreated me to wryte what I sawe, w^{ch} chefflie by there procurement I have doen, who, havinge care of my well doinge, perswaded me howe profytable and necessarye it was to vse my terme and travell, and imploy that talent that might tend to my great comodytie and avale. Theis indenyable requestes and ffrendlie reasons did so charme me, albeit long deaffe at there enchantments, that I cold not refuse to susteane this charge, that nowe enforcethe my well meanynge to run post (I knowe) to some vnwelcome gwides, that w^{th} twyned mynde will intercept my meanynge. Thus tranede and, as it were, bewytched w^{th} this vnweldye charge of request, I pushe forthe this vnpolished phantasey, a breffe calgulacion of theis procedinges." Though confessedly anxious to reap any reward which his poetical venture may be thought to deserve, the author does not appear to be equally willing to monopolize the "blame and infayme, yf any there bee". On the contrary, he is careful to point out--"to make his blames more excusable for there importunytie"--that they who have urged him to write are "accessaryes yf not principalls in his unwillinge cryme", and that it would be a cruel hardship, indeed, were he doomed "to thole ignomynye" and "live a condempned byarde", for the sake of "cleringe others". It is with the evident intention of giving force to this plea that, whilst seeming to prefer a humble request that Randolph "will not refuse to surname" the offspring of his "restless Mewse", he takes the opportunity of pointing him out "as the cheffe parent thereof". With what success this questionable device was attended Mary's complaint to Elizabeth has already set forth.

After having fenced himself round, in his dedication, with all these rhetorical safeguards, the author turns to the reader with a poetical appeal to "arrest his judgement", and then addresses himself to the task of recording the "proceedings" of the eventful six months which followed Mary's ill-advised marriage with Darnley.

The first part of the _Fantasie_ opens with a poetical sketch, in which the author represents himself as sunk in melancholy meditation, and endeavouring to find relief from the heavy burthen which the intrigues and disappointments of Court life have cast upon him:--

fforwerièd[133] with cares and sorrowes source supprest, and worldlie woos of sharpe repulse that bredes vnquyet rest, confus'd with courtlie cares, a seate of slipper[134] stay, that yeldes the draught of bitter swete to such as drawes that way, in silent sort I sought unwist of any wight to attempt some meane howe well I cold my heavy burden light.

Whilst he is thus revolving "what fyttest were for feble myndes", his conflicting thoughts, personified as "Desire", "Tyme", "Fansye", and "Reason", appear before him and volunteer, in turn, such advice as seems best suited to the situation. "Desire", whose opinion is naturally the first to find expression, suggests that he should seek "such rest as may revive his pensive thought, with sorrow so opprest". "Tyme", however, interposes with a reminder that "feldishe sports be now exempt", and that the season is not "mete" for the amusements that might delight his spirits. This affords "Fansye" an opportunity of making herself heard.

assay yf that thie Mevses trades may ought dissolve thie care, pervse[135] some pleasunte stile that may delight the brayne and prove by practyse of the pen to file thie wyttes agayne.

But this advice does not meet with the approval of "Reason". She points out to the poet that

Devyne Camenes never cold with Mavors' rage agree, Ne yet Minerva mewse with skill was depelie scande[136] When as[137] Bellona did decree[138] with bloody sworde in hande;

and that, if he should allow himself to be hurried by his sympathies into championing every cause and "wrastling in eche wrong", the result must be as useless as though "he shold stope the streame, or sporne against the sone". Bidding him be ruled by her, she counsels him to "mesure by myrthe some meane that may his grieves disgest", to "solace the rage of hevmayne cares within a gladsome brest", and to follow the safer course of "sojourning with silence", unless, indeed, he should be able to find "a frend on whom he may repose the secretes of his mynde". But "rareness of suche one" suggests moral reflections on the dangers of flattery, with its "sewgred speech", and on the fickleness of friendship, "a flyinge birde with wings of often change". These, and a further recommendation to prudent silence, which, though it "do allay no rage of stormy thoughte", is at least preferable to the "bankroote gest" distrust, bring Reason's harangue to a close.

In a passage of some merit, but so singularly out of place that it suggests an error of transcription, the poet proceeds to describe the dreary season to which Fancy has already made reference:--

It was when Awtum had fild full the barnes with corne, And he that eats and emtyes all away had Awtum worne, And wynter windes approcht that doth ibayre the trene, And Saturne's frosts, that steanes the earth had perst the tender grene, And dampishe mystes discendes when tempests work much harme, And force of stormes do make all cold that somer had made warme, whose lustie hewe dispoiled cold not possess the place, ne yet abide Boreas' blasts that althings dothe deface.

After this digression Reason's advice is taken into consideration. Recognizing its wisdom, the poet at first "seeks by solitarye meanes to recreate his minde". The attempt is not, however, crowned with success. He experiences that, "as the sowthfast sayen", "solytarynes" is but "hewe of dispaire, ffoo to his weale, and frendlie to ech payne", and that slender indeed "are the greves that silence do unlade". In his solitude the evils of his own position crowd up before him, he "beats his branes with bitter bale and woos of worldlie force", he recalls the "painful years" which he has "lingered forth" in Scotland, with the sole reward of seeing "his credyt crak the string with those with whome in faythfull league he long before had bene", and himself "rolled out of Fortune's lappe". By a natural transition he passes from his own grievances to a consideration of the political events which have produced them; his "bewsye heade" calls up the "sowre change", the "sodaine fall" of the realme "from weale to woo, from welthe to wast, and worce if ought might be".

The cue for it being thus given, there follows a recapitulation of the "proceedings" which are the real subject of the _Fantasie_. "I saw", the poet says:

I saw the Quene whose will occurant with her yeres was wone[139] to worke oft that she wold by counsaile of her peres. It was the winged boy had perst[140] her tender thought, and Venus' joyes so tickled her that force avaled nought; on Darlie did she dote who equall in this mase[141] sought to assalt the forte of fame defenst with yeas and nayes, which for a while repulst and had no passage in: but still porsewt did rase the seige[142] that might the fortresse wyne, who, stronglie thus beseiged with battry rounde aboute, at last was forst to yeld the keis, she cold not holde hym owte, but rendered sacke and spoile unto the victor's grace, so ritch a pray did not the Greks by Helen's meanes possesse. To regall charge of rule she did advaunce his state, and gave the sworde into his hand that bred civill debate. This was affection force that blewe this gale of winde; this regestreth the found pretence[143] within a woman's mynde this calls us to reporte[144] and proves the proverbe trewe, that wemens wills are sonest wone in that they after rewe. This brede a brutyshe broile and causèd cankred spight to move the myndes of such as did envy a stranger's might; vnder w^{ch} shade was shrowde an other fyrme intente, and so, by color of that change to doe what he was bente, w^{ch} made much myserye and wrought this realme to wracke, and sturde[145] a stiveling sture[146] amongst the muffled contre-packe[147] that mustrèd eche where[148] in forme and force of warre, and clapt on armor for the feld as the comannded warre.

Here the poet, who seems anxious to lose no opportunity of pointing a moral, interrupts for a while his sombre description of the state of Scotland under this "reckles rule", to introduce his own reflections upon "the slipper state of worldlie wealth that heare on earth we finde". Resuming his lamentation, he records the undeserved disgrace of "those whose grave advice in judgement semed vpright", and the unwise promotion to offices of trust of those "which grated[149] but for gayne and gropt for private pray", who presumptuously attempted to "gwide a shipe against the storme", though they "had not the skill in calm to stire a barge".

Lest the application of the general statement should remain doubtful, it is illustrated by reference to the leading men of the Queen's party. To each of them a couplet is dedicated, the symmetry being broken in favour of Maxwell alone, who is thought worthy of a double share of satire. Unfortunately, however, the allusions are so vague and the language in many cases so obscure, that it is difficult to catch more than the drift of what is intended to characterize the conduct and unveil the motives of each individual:--

I sawe Adthole abridge with craft to conquere cost, and forge that fact by forraigne foos that his discent might bost; I sawe what Merton ment by shufflinge for his share, imbrasinge those that shrowdes the shame of his possessed care; I sawe howe Cassells crowcht affirmynge yea and na, as redyest when chaunce brings chang to drive and drawe that way; I sawe Crawforde encroche on slipperie renowne, that curre favell[150] in the court might retche to higher rowme;[151] I sawe howe Lyddington did powder it[152] with pen, and fyled so his sewgred speche as wone the wills of men; I sawe howe Lyndsey lurkt vnconstant of his trade[153] alludinge[154] by his duble meanes that might his lust unlade;[155] I sawe howe Hume in hope did hoist the sale aloft, and howe he anker weighed with those that most for credyt sought; I sawe howe Ruthven reigned as one of Gnator's kinde, and howe he first preffer'd his ple respondent to his mynde. I sawe what Maxwell mente in kindlinge the flame, and after howe he sought new meanes to choke the smoke agayne; whose dowble dealinge did argewe vnconstant fayth, and shamefull wayes blowes forthe the brute[156] that may record his death; with feble force I sawe howe Leonox did entende, as thriftie of a princelie rewle to regestre his ende; I sawe the weake advise that Darlie did aforde, as yonge in wytt as fewe of yeres to weld the regall sworde; and sodainelie I saw howe Bulforde credyt sought, and howe from nought he start aloft to bear the freey in court.[157]

The political correspondence and historical records of the period allow us to remove, in some slight degree, the obscurity which veils this passage, and supply concerning the conduct of some of the characters alluded to in it such particulars as may help us to understand, if not the special point of the poet's satire, at least the general reasons which aroused his indignation and drew forth his censure.

It would have been difficult for the most bitter opponent of the royal cause to find in Athole's conduct during the period here referred to anything to justify an attack on his personal character. There is consequently no matter for astonishment in the fact that the satirist--if our interpretation of the couplet be the correct one--has no more heinous offence to reproach him with than fidelity to his trust and loyalty to his Queen. These, it is true, he manifested on more than one critical occasion. It was to Athole's house in Dunkeld that Mary, knowing herself to be surrounded with spies in Perth, determined to retire after the memorable convention at which the intended marriage with Darnley was made known. When, a few days later, intelligence was brought by Lindsay of Dowhill of a plot formed by the confederate Lords to seize the Queen's person at Parenwell, to tear her intended husband and his father from her side, and to slay all who offered resistance to the deed of violence, it was with Athole that Mary concerted measures to frustrate the lawless attempt, and it was by his exertions that a body of two hundred gentlemen was raised to serve as an escort for her. At the public solemnization of the Queen's marriage it was Athole who, in recognition of his faithful service, led both bride and bridegroom to the altar, and who, at the banquet which followed, acted as her carver. That these marks of favour were not the only rewards bestowed upon his loyal attachment is shown by Randolph in a letter which he wrote to Cecil a few months later,[158] and in which he states the Earl of Athole's influence to be paramount, greater even than Bothwell's. If we be right in interpreting the charge of "abridging with craft to conquer cost" to mean that Athole endeavoured to husband the resources of the kingdom, it was a course which the state of the Queen's finances more than justified. The pecuniary difficulties in which she was involved are repeatedly alluded to in Randolph's despatches. On the 4th of July we find him informing Cecil of the arrival of a chest supposed to contain supplies of money, and significantly adding that "if that way the Queen and Darnley have either means or credit, it is so much the worse".[159] A fortnight later[160] he refers more plainly still to the desperate condition of the royal exchequer, and states that Mary "is so poor at present that ready money she hath very little and credit none at all". In August[161] he announces that "she hath borrowed money of divers, and yet hath not wherewith to pay so many soldiers as are levied for two months". If, under these circumstances, Athole set himself the arduous and thankless task of narrowly watching over the expenditure of funds which it was so difficult to raise, and even if the allusion contained in the enigmatical accusation of "forging that fact by forrayne foos" should point to any part taken by him in obtaining "about fifteen hundred francs which had been sent out of France", no impartial judge can behold in this a proof of anything but loyalty to his kinswoman and Queen.

The charge of "shufflinge for his share", the only intelligible count in the indictment contained in the couplet devoted to Morton, is fully justified by the able but unscrupulous statesman's conduct during the period of civil strife to which the _Fantasie_ refers. On the formation of the league for which Mary's intentions towards her cousin had afforded a pretence, Morton had joined the ranks of the confederate Lords. Before long, however, his opposition to the marriage was overcome and his services secured for the royal cause by the sacrifice on the part of Lennox and Darnley of their claims to the honours and estates of Angus. Though his motives were very far from being disinterested, his conduct was for a while in strict conformity with the pledge which had been bought from him, and he successfully exerted his influence to conciliate some of the bitterest opponents to the royal marriage. Such as it was, however, his loyalty was but shortlived. He took umbrage at the part assigned to Lennox in the command of the army which marched out to encounter the confederates. In the month of October his treasonable designs were so far from being a secret that Randolph described him as "only making fair weather with the Queen till he could espy his time".[162] But by her prompt and energetic action in compelling him to surrender the Castle of Tantallon to the Earl of Athole,[163] the Queen obliged him to declare himself sooner than he had intended, and before his treachery could do any material injury to her cause.

Like his kinsman Morton, Ruthven, though serving in the royal army, was in league with the rebels. Between him and Mary there had never existed any great sympathy, though, out of consideration for Lennox, whose intimate associate he was, she admitted him for a while to her favour and confidence. As early as the beginning of July, however, it was reported that "the Lord of Ruthven had entered into suspicion",[164] and three months later he was also mentioned amongst those who were "only making fair weather with the Queen".[165] His final defection took place at the same time and for the same cause as Morton's, the "plee" which he "preffered"--that is, the claim which he also laid to a part of the Angus estates, in right of Janet Douglas, his wife--having been set aside by the royal order which made over Tantallon to Athole.

The lines directed against Lennox and Darnley require neither explanation nor comment. The ambition of the one and the boyish weakness and vanity of the other are well known. In selecting these as the objects of his satirical allusions, the poet has not treated them with greater severity than they deserved, nor, indeed, than they have met with at the hands of both contemporary and subsequent historians.

As regards Maxwell, it is not difficult to account for the prominence given to him, nor for the "unconstant fayth and shamefull ways" with which he is reproached. At the outbreak of hostilities he held the office of Warden of the Western Border. The confidence placed in him, however, he betrayed, not only by allowing the insurgents to remain unmolested within the district under his keeping, and actually giving them entertainment, but also by subscribing with them[166] and devoting a thousand pounds, which he had received from England, to the equipment of a troop of horse for service against his sovereign. Mary took his treason so greatly to heart that, in a letter to Beton, Archbishop of Glasgow, she inveighed in terms seldom to be met with in her correspondence against "the traitor Maxwell, who, to his great disgrace, had basely violated his faith to her, and sent his son as his pledge to England, undeterred by the remembrance of the treatment to which his other boy was exposed, of which he had told her himself".[167] After the Queen's bloodless victory over her rebellious nobles, and the retreat of Moray and his associates from their last city of refuge in Scotland, Maxwell, fearful of the consequences of his own treasonable conduct, begged to be allowed to return to his allegiance. Three days after Mary's arrival at Dumfries, he was brought before her by Bothwell and some of the loyal lords who offered to become sureties for his fidelity. He was received with generous kindness by his sovereign, who not only granted him a free pardon, but carried her magnanimity so far as to accept the hospitality of his castle of Lochmaben, where she remained until her return to Edinburgh.

The couplet in which the satirist tells us how Ledington "did powder it with pen, and fyled so his sewgred speech as wone the wills of men", pithily characterizes the secretary's conduct, not merely on the special occasion to which allusion is here made, but throughout the whole of his eventful career. The other names introduced into the passage are known to be those of noblemen who embraced the Queen's cause, but the records of the period make no reference to any acts of theirs of sufficient importance to call for either praise or censure, though the subsequent defection of some of their number seems to justify the doubt cast on the sincerity of their motives. With regard to the last of these names, that of Bulford is probably a corrupted form of some more familiar appellation. It may possibly be intended to designate James Balfour, Parson of Fisk, who "at this time", according to John Knox, "had gottin all the guiding in the Court" and "was preferred before all others, save only the Erle of Athole".[168]

With this black list of those who "prowld for private pray", the poet contrasts the confederate Lords by whom "right was erect and wilfull wronge supprest", whose "judgements ever vncontrolde did floryshe with the best", who "sought by civill meanes for to advaunce the realme", but who were "chast away" because "the Quene wold not abide there grave advise that counsaled her to watch a better tide". The names held up for special reverence are those of Murray, Hamilton, Argyle, Rothose, Glencairn, Boyd, Ochiltree, and Grange, and it is open to question whether their action, in revolting from their sovereign and entering into negotiations with Elizabeth and her agents, warrants the praise bestowed upon them in the following lines:--

ffor Murray's constant fayth and ardent zeale to truthe had not the grace to fordge and feane that worldlie wytts pursewthe; nor Hamilton cold have no hope to hold his seate; nor yet Argile to abide the court the pirrye[169] was to greate; Rothose might not resyst that stedfastnes profest; nor Glencarne cold averde with wrong that rigor had incest;[170] nor Boide wold not attempt the trades[171] of no mystrust; nor Ogletree concure with such as rewlèd but for lust; Grange wold not grate for grace, no burden he wold beare whose horye head expert in warrs did bred the courtyers feare.

Having thus recorded the relative strength and merits of the contending

## parties, the poet completes his picture of the lamentable state to which

the kingdom has been reduced by civil discord; then, with his natural inclination to give prominence to his own troubles, bewails the "unrest" which embitters his life and is "powdering the heires upon his head". For solace he "retyres unto his booke a space", there to contemplate, "with rufull eye, what bale is incident in everie estate where tirants do prevale", and to gather "examples that bloodye feicts dothe aske vengiance and thrists for bloode againe". Cyrus, Tomiris, Cambyses, Brutus, Cassius, Bessus, Alexander, and Dionysius are called up "to represent the fine of tirants' force", and to show "howe the gwiltless bloode that is vniustlie shede dothe crave revenge". Sheer weariness, however, puts an end to the dismal meditation, and as the poet sinks into "swete slepe" it seems to him that a messenger is "thrust in at the doore" to inform him that the Queen herself is at hand. Hereupon Mary enters, and without further preface begins "her tale", to which the second part of the _Fantasie_ is devoted.

The opening words of the Queen's confession, for such is the form into which her "complante" is thrown, assume that she is acquainted with Randolph's purpose of recording the events of which he has been a witness, and are a request that he will "inwrape her woos within his carefull clewe, that when the recorde is spread everywhere, the state of her comber first may appear". Her grief, however, as she at once explains, is not for herself--there is no cause why she should repine, for all things have succeeded according to her will--it is for the miserable state to which her headstrong resistance to the advice of those who counselled wise and moderate government has reduced her realm. But, before entering fully into her subject, by a clever paralepsy she digresses into an account of her birth and accomplishments. Written as it is by a professed enemy of Mary Stuart's the passage is of considerable interest, and may help to settle the disputed question of her personal gifts:--

I hold it nedles to bragg of my birthe, by loyall dascent endowed a quene; my ffather doth wytness it even to his death, who in this weale most noblie did reigne; and that halffe a Gwyssian[172] by birth I bene, and howe the Frenshe Kinge in marag did endowe me with royall right, a madlie[173] widowe.

But I cold bost of bewtie with the best, in skilfull poincts of princelie attire, and of the golden gwiftes of nature's behest who filed my face of favor freshe and fayre; my bewtie shynes like Phebus in the ayre, and nature formed my feater beside in such proport[174] as advanseth my pride.

Thus fame affatethe[175] my state to the stares, enfeoft with the gwyftes of nature's devise, that soundes the retreat to others princes eares whollie to resigne to me the chefest price; but what doth it avale to vant in this wyse? for as the sowre sent the swete tast do spill so are the good gwyftes corrupted with ill.

Foremost amongst the defects that mar the high gifts of nature she mentions the "Gwyssian" temper which she has received from her mother, and by which she has been led to take the first false step "to wedd as she wold, suche a one as she demed wold serve her lust rather then might her weale well upholde". The fatal marriage being thus introduced, she naturally refers to its results, to the opposition of those who, having "ever tendered her state, cold not abyde to see this myscheffe", and whom, in her ungovernable temper, in her "rigour and hate", she "sought to subject to the sword". This is followed by the names of her chief opponents, the list being augmented by a few names which do not appear in the first part. Here a passage of singular significance even at the present day is unexpectedly brought in, in connection with the Duke of Argyle. It is a description of the Irish. They are stigmatized "a bloody crewe that whoso they take they helples downe hewe", and their barbarous manner of carrying on war and inhuman treatment of the enemy is thus set forth:--

This savage kinde, they knowe no lawe of armes, they make not warrs as other do assay, they deale not deathe by [_without_] dredfull harmes, yeld or not yeld whoso they take they slay, they save no prysonners for ransome nor for pay, they hold it hopeles of the bodye dead except they see hym cut shorter by the heade.

From this point the Queen's "complante" becomes a narrative--interspersed with moral reflections on the dangers of despotic government and the horrors of civil wars--of the victorious though bloodless expedition against the confederate Lords. It is noteworthy that, however depreciatory the judgment which she is made to pass upon her own conduct, her energy and courage are repeatedly insisted upon in terms of unqualified praise: "The dread of no enemy cold me appaile, nor yett no travell endaunte my entent; ... I dreaded no daunger of death to ensewe, no stormy blasts cold make me retyre". Indeed, in one stanza she actually likens herself to Tomiris, and though, from the fact that it appears to be made by herself, the comparison at first strikes us as unnatural and exaggerated, looked at in its proper light, as the testimony of an avowed enemy, it is undoubtedly a high tribute of admiration to her indomitable spirit:--

Amidde w^{ch} rowte, yf thou thie selffe had bene, and seen howe I my matters did contryve, thou woldest have reckened me the lustyest Quene that ever Europe fostred heare to live; yea, if Tomiris her selffe had bene alive, who dreaded great hosts with her tyrannye, cold not shewe herself more valiant then I.

The first episode referred to by the Queen is the pitching of her camp near Glasgow, for the purpose of intercepting the rebels who had taken up their position near Paisley, but who, dismayed at the rapid march of the royal army, hastily retired towards Edinburgh. This was on August 31. The poetical narrative is as follows:--

In Glasco towne I entrenched my bandes, and they in Paselee, nor far distant from thence, where erelie on the morrowe, west by the sande,[176] they gave me larum with warlicke pretence; we were in armes but they were gone thence, to the ffeldes we marcht in battell array, expectinge our foos, but they were awaye.

* * * * *

when fame had brought that the Llords were gone to Edenbrough towne to wage[177] men of warre, to supplie there force, and make them more stronge of expert trayns[178] to joyne in this jarre, I hasted forwarde to interrupt them there, but by the way I harde they were gone from Edenbrough, and had clene left the towne.

In a stanza following immediately upon this, and descriptive of the course adopted by Mary on her arrival in Edinburgh, we find the confirmation of a statement made by Captain Cockburn,[179] but indignantly denied as a shameless fabrication by those historians whose aim it has been to clear the Queen from every imputation. He asserts, not only that she imposed a fine of £20,000 on certain of the burgesses of Edinburgh after the termination of the expedition, but also that previously to this she had extorted 14,000 marks from them for the support of her army. It is the latter part of this statement which has been challenged, but which undoubtedly receives strong support from the following verses:--

And some that had incurred my blame, by worde or wronge or other like meane, for redye coigne I compounded with them, that I might better my soulgiers maynteyne, th'unwonted charge that I did susteane was thus considered in everie dome[180] to surpasse the yerelie revenue of my crowne.

Passing over the Queen's expedition into Fifeshire and the capture of Castle Campbell, "the castle of gloom", a formidable stronghold belonging to her rebel brother-in-law, the Duke of Argyle, the historical part of the narrative hastens on to the final act, the march to Dumfries and the Lords' retreat across the Border. The inglorious termination of the rebellion has been pithily summed up by Sir James Melville in his Memoirs: "Her Majesty again convened forces to pursue the rebels, till at length they were compelled to flee into England for refuge, to her who promised by her ambassadors to wear her crown in their defence, in case they were driven to any strait for their opposition unto the marriage".[181] The poet is scarcely less concise in his record of an event which he could neither hide nor gloss over, but upon which he evidently had no wish to dwell:--

We came to Domfreis to attempt our might, but all was in vane, our foos were awaie; there was none there that wold us resiste, nor yett affirme that I did gainesaye.

* * * * *

They unable to abide or resist my might entred perforce into th'inglishe pale. In Carlile they all were constrayned to light, where the Lord Scrowpe entreated them all; and th'Erle of Bedforde leivetenante generall of th'inglish northe, whose fervent affection I ever dreaded to deale in this action, whose noble hart enflamed with ruthe to see theis Llords driven to dystresse, sought the meanes he could to advance the truthe.

* * * * *

What racke, Randolphe? Thou thie selffe knowes I retorned a victore without any blows.

Though this seemed to indicate a point where the _Fantasie_ might come to a fitting close, it is drawn out for fully a hundred lines in order that the moral of the whole narrative may be duly brought home to the reader. So far as Mary herself is concerned, the gist of her long homily may be given in her concluding words:--

'Tis fittest for a prince, and such as have the regyments of realmes, there subjects hartes with myldnes to convince, and justice mixt, avoydinge all extremes; ffor like as Phebus with his cherefull beames do freshlie force the fragrant flowers to floryshe, so rulers' mildness subjects love do noryshe.

The poet's own moralizing, with which, as with an epilogue, the whole poem is brought to an end, is wider in its application. The dangers which beset greatness and the advantages which accompany "golden mediocrity" are its leading theme, and are set forth in a passage which brings together a number of familiar illustrations drawn from inanimate nature:--

I then said to myself methinkes this may assure all those that clyme to honor's seate there state may not endure; the hills of highest hight are sonest perskt with sone, the silver streames with somer's drowght are letten oft to rone, the loftiest trees and groves are ryfest rent with winde, the brushe and breres that thickest grow the flame will sonest finde, the loftie rerynge towers there fall the ffeller bee, most ferse dothe fulgent lyghtnyng lyght where furthest we may see, the gorgyous pallace deckt and reared vp to the skye are sonner shokt with wynter stormes then meaner buildings bee, vpon the highest mounts the stormy wynds do blowe, the sewer seate and quyet lief is in the vale belowe; by reason I regawrde the mean estate most sure, that wayteth on the golden meane & harmles may endure; the man that wyselie works in welthe doth feare no tide, when fortune failes dispeareth not but stedfastlie abide, for He that sendeth stormes with windes and wynter blasts, and steanes with hale the wynter face & fils ech soile with frosts He slaks the force of cold he sends the somer hote, he causethe bayle to stormy harts of joy the spring & rote. Reader regawrde this well as I of force nowe must, appoinct thie mewse to merke my verse thus ruffled up in rust, and lerne this last of me: Imbrace thie porpose prest, and lett no storme to blowe the blasts to lose the port of rest; and tho the gale be great & frowarde fortune fayle, againe when wynde do serve at will hoist not to hye the saile ffor prowffe may toche the stone to prove this firme and plaine, that no estate may countervale the gyld or golden meane.

Both the poem and the Epistle Dedicatory bear the signature of Thomas Jenye. It is the name of an unscrupulous adventurer who held some subordinate position in the service of Thomas Randolph, whilst he was in Scotland, and afterwards of Sir Henry Norris, in the Netherlands. From the literary point of view, the most noteworthy feature of his _Fantasie_ is the barefacedness with which he pilfered, not only the ideas, but the actual words of others. Indeed, in its introduction and conclusion, which consist, for the most part, of moral reflections, Jenye's satire is little better than a patchwork, rather cleverly made up, it is true, of lines purloined from Surrey, Grimsald, Sackville, and the other writers who figure with them in _Tottell's Miscellany_. But besides being a curiosity in plagiarism, the _Fantasie_ is a valuable historical document, by reason of the accuracy with which it describes the various incidents of Murray's revolt, of which Jenye was practically an eyewitness.

FOOTNOTES: for MAISTER RANDOLPHE'S FANTASIE

[109] Earl of Morton to the Earl of Bedford, 24 May, 1566.

[110] Thomas Randolph to Sir William Cecil, 26 May, 1566.

[111] _Ibid._

[112] Thomas Randolph to Sir William Cecil, 26 May, 1566.

[113] _Ibid._

[114] _Ibid._

[115] _Ibid._

[116] Thomas Randolph to Sir William Cecil, 20 Aug., 1565.

[117] _Ibid._ 9 Sept., 1565.

[118] _Ibid._ 15 Dec., 1565.

[119] Thomas Randolph to the Earl of Bedford, 30 Sept., 1565.

[120] "Instructions for certain persons to be sent into Scotland to commune respecting ... assaults upon Thomas Randolph."--_State Papers._

[121] Thomas Randolph to the Earl of Leicester, 18 Oct., 1565.

[122] Thomas Randolph to Sir W. Cecil, 19 Feb., 1566; the Queen of Scots to Queen Elizabeth, 20 Feb., 1566.

[123] _Ibid._

[124] Queen Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, 3 March, 1566.

[125] Queen Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, 15 March, 1566.

[126] Thomas Randolph to Sir W. Cecil, 6 March, 1566.

[127] Thomas Randolph to Sir William Cecil, 26 May, 1566.

[128] Thomas Randolph to Sir William Cecil, Berwick, 7 June, 1566.

[129] Queen Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, Greenwich, 13 June, 1566.

[130] Randolph to Cecil, 26 May, 1566.

[131] Several years after this was written, the _Fantasie_ was published in one of the volumes of the "Scottish Texts Society". It has not, however, been thought necessary to alter the present, or any other, reference to the poem, or the documents bearing on it, as inedited.

[132] _State Papers. Scotland--Elizabeth_, vol xi., 31 Dec., 1565.

[133] _fforwerièd_, wearied out.

[134] _slipper_, slippery.

[135] _pervse_, employ, have recourse to.

[136] _scande_, attended to.

[137] _When as_, whilst.

[138] _decree_, hold sway.

[139] _wone_, wont.

[140] _perst_, pierced.

[141] _mase_, wild fancy.

[142] _rase the seige_, carry on the siege with increased vigour.

[143] _regestreth the found pretence_, shows the infatuation.

[144] _reporte_, quote.

[145] _sturde_, stirred up.

[146] _stiveling sture_, stifling passion.

[147] _mufflled contre-packe_, secret opposition party.

[148] _eche where_, everywhere.

[149] _grated_, sought with importunity.

[150] _curre favell_, curried favour.

[151] _rowme_, position.

[152] _powder it_, create bustle or pother.

[153] _trade_, course.

[154] _alludinge_, deceiving.

[155] _vnlade_, give free scope to.

[156] _brute_, report.

[157] _to bear the freey in court_--this expression, which is evidently intended to convey the idea of influence or exalted position, may be connected with the French _faire les frais_.

[158] Randolph to Cecil, 31 Oct., 1565.

[159] Randolph to Cecil, 4 July, 1565.

[160] _Ibid._, 19 July, 1565.

[161] Cecil's Journal.

[162] Randolph to Cecil, 12 Oct., 1565.

[163] _Diurnal of Occurrents._

[164] Randolph to Cecil, 2 July, 1565.

[165] _Diurnal of Occurrents._

[166] Knox's _History of the Reformation_.

[167] Queen Mary to Archbishop Beton, 1 Oct., 1565.

[168] _History of the Reformation_, p. 383.

[169] _pirrye_, peril.

[170] _incest_, given rise to.

[171] _trades_, course of action.

[172] _Gwyssian_, belonging to the Guise family.

[173] _madlie_, maidenly.

[174] _proport_, proportion.

[175] _affatethe_, proclaims.

[176] Probably _Sandyford_, close to the river Cart, between Paisley and Renfrew. A tradition, still current in the neighbourhood, asserts that Mary once slept at Crookston Castle then belonging to the Lennox family. It may have been on this occasion, documentary evidence of any other opportunity for a visit to the Castle not being extant.

[177] _to wage_, to raise.

[178] _trayns_, bands.

[179] Capt. Cokbourn to Cecil.

[180] _dome_, judgment, opinion.

[181] P. 135.

THE FIRST "STUART" TRAGEDY AND ITS AUTHOR

Mary, Queen of Scots, was beheaded in 1587. Fourteen years later there was published in Rouen a play which bore the title of _Tragédie de la Reine d'Escosse_, and which had for its subject the condemnation and death of Elizabeth's unfortunate prisoner. The author styled himself Anthoine de Montchrestien sieur de Vasteville; but it was alleged by his enemies that he was nothing more aristocratic than the son of an apothecary of Falaise called Mauchrestien. He had, however, the good fortune to be brought up, though in what connection is uncertain, with two lads belonging to a family of authentic nobility; and by the time he reached his twentieth year, he had the training and education of a gentleman of the period. With the sword which he assumed as the emblem of the class to which he claimed to belong, he adopted the fashionable readiness to draw it on the slightest provocation. His first recorded encounter, however, very nearly proved his last. With the odds of three to one against him, he was grievously wounded and left for dead on the highway. But he recovered, and, in the true spirit of a Norman, consoled himself for his defeat and his injuries by suing the chief of his adversaries, the Baron de Gouville. That he obtained damages to the amount of 12,000 livres may be taken as a proof that all the blame was not on his side. The success of this legal action encouraged him to take proceedings against one of his trustees, who had failed to do his duty by him. A further indemnity of 1000 livres was the result. About this time, too, he married a rich widow whose good graces he had previously secured by helping her to win a lawsuit in which her husband had been the defender.

As early as 1596, Montchrestien had published the tragedy of _Sophonisbe_. Five years later there appeared a volume bearing his name, and containing a miscellaneous collection of prose and verse, including five tragedies, of which one was the Mary Stuart play, with the running title of _l'Escossoise_. In the midst of a literary success to which numerous sets of complimentary verses testify, a real tragedy changed the whole course of the Norman adventurer's career. In a duel with a young nobleman, he killed his adversary. Whether he did so in fair fight or, as his detractors alleged, by means of a disloyal stratagem, he was equally amenable to the severe law against single combat which Henry IV had lately promulgated. To no purpose did the poet appeal to the king in some eloquent verses in which he begged to be allowed to expiate his offence by dying for his sovereign on the field of honour:--

"Armé sur un cheval, en tenant une pique, Non sur un échafaud en vergogne publique."[182]

He was obliged to seek safety in exile, and retired to England. There his "Stuart" tragedy was of service to him. He presented it to James, who showed his appreciation of the work by interceding with the King of France on behalf of the author. The result was favourable, but not immediate; and several years had to elapse before the outlawry was reversed.

Montchrestien had gone to England in the character of a poet and a gentleman. He returned to France to become an economist and manufacturer. In 1615 he published a volume entitled, _Traicté de l'OEconomie Politique_. Never before had the term been used; and the subject dealt with was as novel as its name. Shortly after this, the founder of the science for which such great destinies were in store, established a cutlery on the banks of the Loire. That his venture was successful seems hardly probable, for less than four years later he was engaged in the shipping trade. The story that he endeavoured to better his financial position by the desperate expedient of counterfeiting the coin of the realm rests on no trustworthy authority, and may be dismissed as one of the many calumnies by which his enemies sought to blacken his memory after his tragic death. That event took place in 1621; and the various incidents that led up to it might well be shaped into a novel of adventure, though they must here be summarized in a few brief sentences. When religious troubles again broke out in France, after the Assembly of La Rochelle, Montchrestien threw in his lot with the Protestant party. He went about for some months in his native province of Normandy, endeavouring to organize an insurrection. On the 7th of October he, together with his servant and six Huguenot captains, was taken by surprise in an inn. In the scuffle that followed, a pistol shot through the head put an end to his adventurous career. According to the barbarous custom which then prevailed in France, as it did in Scotland also, sentence was pronounced over his dead body. It was burnt and the ashes were scattered to the winds.

When Montchrestien wrote _l'Escossoise_, six years before the birth of Corneille, tragedy made no attempt to depict the conflict of antagonistic passions, but contented itself with the exposition of a pathetic situation, considered from various points of view. When this had been set forth with sufficient detail, the _dénouement_, instead of being enacted before the spectators, was indicated in a concluding narrative. All Montchrestien's tragedies are drawn up on this plan; and he is so faithful to the old classic form that he retains even the chorus. It is worthy of notice, however, that what has been called "dialogue cornélien", that quick alternation of antithetical couplets and even single lines, suggestive of the sharp clashing of swords in the hands of two well-matched opponents, is one of the characteristics of his manner, and is handled by him with considerable skill and vigour.

In the Stuart tragedy the "entreparleurs" are the Queen of Scots, the Queen of England, an anonymous Councillor, Davison, a Master of the Household, a Messenger, a Page, and two Choruses, one composed of Mary's female attendants, and another consisting of the "Estates" of England. The first act is opened by Elizabeth, who, in a long speech which she addresses to her Councillor, bewails her hard fate and her precarious tenure of both crown and life. She is particularly hurt at the ingratitude of the Queen of Scots, whom she has deprived of her liberty, it is true, but otherwise treated right royally. And apostrophizing the rival whose fair face hides so much disloyalty, envy, and spite, so much fury and so much daring, she asks her whether her heart is not touched at the thought of the countless ills to which England must become a prey if it should lose its lawful Sovereign.

"Une Reine exilée, errante, fugitive, Se degageant des siens qui la tenoient captive, Vint surgir à nos bords contre sa volonté: Car son cours malheureux tendoit d'autre costé. Je l'ay bien voirement dés ce temps arrestée, Mais, hors la liberté Royalement traitée; Et voulant mille fois sa chaine relascher, Je ne sçay quel destin est venu m'empescher.

* * * * *

O coeur trop inhumain pour si douce beauté, Puis que tu peux couver tant de desloyauté, D'envie et de despit, de fureur et d'audace, Pourquoy tant de douceur fais-tu lire en ta face? Tes yeux qui tous les coeurs prennent à leurs appas, Sans en estre troublez, verront-ils mon trespas? Ces beaux Astres luisans au ciel de ton visage, De ma funeste mort seront-ils le présage?

N'auras-tu point le coeur touché d'affliction, Voyant ceste belle Isle en desolation, En proye à la discorde en guerres allumée, Au meurtre de ses fils par ses fils animée? Verras-tu sans douleur les soldats enragez, Massacrer à leurs pieds les vieillards outragez, Egorger les enfants presence de leurs peres Les pucelles forcer au giron de leurs meres, Et les fleuves encor regorger sur leurs bords Par les pleurs des vivans et par le sang des morts?"[183]

Enlarging on this idea, the Councillor urges the Queen to put her prisoner to death:--It is a pious deed to kill a murderess; it cannot be displeasing to a just God that punishment should be inflicted on the wicked; and, moreover, has not the impunity of vice often brought ruin and death on kingdoms and on kings? To such arguments as these, Elizabeth replies that kings and queens are answerable to God alone; that Sovereigns who put their enemies to death increase instead of diminishing their number; and that severity only engenders hatred. And her last words contain the half-expressed resolve to try what clemency will do to disarm her rival. This the Councillor meets with the significant question--

"d'un ingrat obligé Que peut-on espérer que d'en être outragé?"[184]

To close the act the Chorus then appears and sings the delights of the golden age and the simple life, as compared with the troubles and anxieties that embitter the existence of princes.

When the short second act opens, sentence of death has been passed on Mary Stuart, and the Estates of England appear before their Queen to demand that, for their safety, the sentence shall be carried out. Elizabeth accedes so far as to promise that she will leave the matter in their hands. But that is only a device to gain time. As soon as she is by herself, she calls up a vivid picture of what foreign nations and posterity will think of her if she allows the blood of a Sovereign to stain the scaffold, and is so horrified at it that she determines to interfere. She leaves the stage and disappears from the tragedy with the words:

"Je rompray cependant le coup de l'entreprise".[185]

In spite of the hopes inspired by Elizabeth, the next act introduces Davison, who has been dispatched to notify her sentence to the royal prisoner, and who, in an effective monologue, expresses his sense of the responsibility which he is incurring and of the odium which he will be made to bear:

"La charge qu'on m'impose est certes bien fascheuse, Mais je crains qu'elle soit encor plus perilleuse: Je vay fraper un coup, mais soudain je le voy, Je le voy, malheureux, retomber dessus moy.

* * * * *

Justement poursuivi de rancune et d'envie, Pour m'estre à ce forfait ainsi tost resolu, De tous également je seray mal voulu.

* * * * *

Sur moy seul tout de mesme on voudra desormais Prendre vengeance d'elle, et je n'en pourray mais: Où ceux qui sont auteurs du mal de ceste Reine, Au milieu de mes pleurs se riront de ma peine. Le sort est bien cruel qui me donne la loy! Je ne le veux point faire et faire je le doy: Il faut bien le vouloir; car c'est force forcée; Tremblant je m'y resous."[186]

Davison is followed by Mary, whom her attendants accompany. In a touching speech she tells the sad story of her life--her unhappy childhood, her brief reign in France, her return to her Scottish kingdom, of which the distracted state is described in a few vigorous lines:

"Ayant laissé glisser dedans la fantaisie La folle opinion d'une rance hérésie, Ayant pour un erreur fardé de nouveauté Abreuvé son esprit de la déloyauté, Il esmeut furieux des querelles civiles, Il révolte les champs, il mutine les villes, Il conjure ma honte et me recherche à tort Croyant qu'à mon espoux j'eusse brassé la mort."[187]

To this accusation of having plotted the death of her husband she replies with an impassioned apostrophe to him, calling upon him to rise from the dead and bear witness to her innocence. Then she recalls her flight from Scotland, and, forgetful of historical fact, attributes it to adverse fate and a furious storm that she was obliged to land on the inhospitable shores of the barbarous English:

"Peuple double et cruel, dont les suprêmes loix Sont les loix de la force et de la tyrannie, Dont le coeur est couvé de rage et félonie Dont l'oeil se paist de meutre et n'a rien de plus cher Que voir le sang humain sur la terre espancher."[188]

And now that no hope of liberty remains, the royal captive longs for the death which she believes to have already been prepared for her. At this point there is a really dramatic situation. The sorrowing Queen has scarcely been assured by the Chorus that her enemies will not dare proceed to such extremes, when a page announces the approach of a royal messenger. It is Davison. He has come to make her death sentence known to the prisoner, who welcomes it as the news of her speedy deliverance.

The fourth act is a lofty elegy--Mary's farewell to the world. The tender and touching lines with which it opens indicate the spirit with which it is animated throughout.

"Voici l'heure dernière en mes voeux désirée Où je suis de longtemps constamment préparée; Je quitte sans regret ce limon vitieux Pour luire pure et nette en la clarté des Cieux, Où l'esprit se radopte à sa tige éternelle, Afin d'y refleurir d'une vie immortelle. Ouvre-toi, Paradis!... Et vous anges tuteurs des bienheureux fidèles, Déployez dans le vent les cerceaux de vos ailes, Pour recevoir mon âme entre vos bras, alors Qu'elle et ce chef royal voleront de mon corps ... Humble et dévotieuse, à Dieu je me présente Au nom de son cher fils, qui sur la croix fiché Dompta pour moi l'Enfer, la mort et le péché ... Tous ont failli, Seigneur, devant ta sainte face; Si par là nous étions exilés de ta grâce, A qui serait enfin ton salut réservé? Qu'aurait servi le bois de tant de sang lavé?"[189]

In the fifth act, devoted to the usual narrative of the catastrophe, a messenger tells the Master of the Household how nobly and bravely his mistress met her death:

"Comme elle est parvenue au milieu de la salle, Sa face paroist belle encor qu'elle soit palle, Non de la mort hastée en sa jeune saison, Mais de l'ennuy souffert en si longue prison.

* * * * *

Comme tous demeuroient attachez à sa veue De mille traits d'amour mesme en la mort pourveue, D'un aussi libre pied que son coeur estoit haut, Elle monte au coupeau du funebre eschaffaut, Puis sousriant un peu de l'oeil et de la bouche: Je ne pensois mourir en cette belle couche; Mais puis qu'il plaist à Dieu user ainsi de moi, Je mourray pour sa gloire en deffendant ma foy. Je conqueste une Palme en ce honteux supplice, Où je fay de ma vie à son nom sacrifice, Qui sera celebrée en langages divers; Une seule couronne en la terre je pers, Pour en posseder deux en l'eternel Empire, La Couronne de vie, et celle du Martyre.

* * * * *

Ce dit sur l'eschaffaut ployant les deux genoux, Se confesse elle mesme, et refrappe trois coups Sa poitrine dolente et baigne ses lumieres De pleurs devotieux qui suivent ses prieres.

* * * * *

Puis tournant au Bourreau sa face glorieuse: Arme quand tu voudras ta main injurieuse, Frappe le coup mortel, et d'un bras furieux Fay tomber le chef bas et voler l'âme aux cieux. Il court oyant ces mots se saisir de la hache; Un, deux, trois, quatre coups sur son col il delasche; Car le fer aceré moins cruel que son bras Vouloit d'un si beau corps differer le trespas. Le tronc tombe à la fin, et sa mourante face Par trois ou quatre fois bondit dessus la place."[190]

The lamentations of the Chorus close the pathetic scene. This is not yet tragedy; but it is not far from being splendid in parts. It is the work, if not of a dramatist, at least of an eloquent rhetorician combined with a lyric poet of high gifts. And when it is remembered that the play was written before his twenty-fifth year, by the man who afterwards showed his keen power of analysis and his psychological insight in his treatise on political economy, it is justifiable to regret that the circumstances of his adventurous life induced him to abandon the literary career which had opened so auspiciously for him.

FOOTNOTES: for THE FIRST "STUART" TRAGEDY

[182] _Les Tragédies de Montchrestien_, Paris, 1891, p. xxij.

[183] Op. cit., pp. 72-3.

[184] Op. cit., p. 80.

[185] Op. cit., p. 87.

[186] Op. cit., pp. 88, 89.

[187] Op. cit., p. 92.

[188] Op. cit., p. 93.

[189] Op. cit., pp. 101, 102.

[190] Op. cit., pp. 109, 110.

LORETTO

The original Loretto--or, as it should more correctly be spelt, Loreto--is an Italian town situated in the province of Ancona, and only a few miles from the shores of the Adriatic. Its four to five thousand inhabitants consist mainly of dealers in objects of piety and in beggars, and its only importance lies in the fame of its shrine, to which many thousands of pilgrims resort yearly.

The cult of Our Lady of Loreto is based on one of the most marvellous, not to say the most daring, of medieval legends. According to the traditional account, St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, had caused a church to be built at Nazareth, over the cottage which the Blessed Virgin had once inhabited. That church the Saracens overthrew. They were preparing to destroy the Santa Casa itself when, on the night of May 12, 1291, angels, anticipating and surpassing the feats of modern engineering, transported it into Dalmatia. For various reasons it was again removed three successive times from one locality to another, until it finally took its stand on the high road between Recanati and the sea. There is a divergence of opinions as to the origin of the name by which the magnificent shrine which shelters the Santa Casa has become known through the whole world. Some authorities attribute it to the fact that the Holy House was deposited in a field belonging to a widow called Lauretta, whilst others connect it with the existence of a laurel grove on the site chosen by the carrier angels. In addition to the cottage, and within it, there is a statue of the Madonna. It is attributed to St. Luke, whom medieval legends commonly regarded as portraitist-in-ordinary to the Virgin Mary. Another relic consists of the dish out of which the Virgin ate. The popularity which the shrine of Loreto acquired through the ages may be estimated from the fact that towards the end of the eighteenth century its wealth was valued at more than a million sterling. In 1797 Pius VI was obliged to draw on its treasury in order to fulfil the conditions imposed on him by the Treaty of Tolentino. War having again broken out, the French occupied Loreto and took possession of the miraculous statue, which was relegated to a shelf beneath that occupied by a mummy in the Cabinet des Médailles of the Bibliothèque Nationale. Napoleon restored it to the Pope in 1802.

The fame acquired by the Italian Loreto led to the establishment, in other countries, of similar shrines--branch establishments for the granting of indulgences and the performance of miracles. Of such Scotland possessed at least two. One of them, which does not seem to have acquired more than a local reputation, was in Perth. The other stood "beyond the eastern gate of Musselburgh and on the margin of the links". The date and circumstances of its foundation are set forth by the _Diurnal of Remarkable Occurrents_, which, amongst the entries for 1533, has the following:--"In this mene tyme thair came ane heremeit, callit Thomas Douchtie, in Scotland, quha haid bein lang capitane (?captive) before the Turk, as was allegit, and brocht ane ymage of our Lady with him, and foundit the Chappel of Laureit, besyid Musselburgh". In addition to this evidence there is a charter of James V, dated July 29, 1534, and confirming the grant by the Bailies, of a "petra" of land in the territory of Musselburgh, to Thomas Duthy, of the Order of St. Paul, first hermit of Mount Sinai, for the erection of a chapel in honour of Almighty God and of Blessed Mary of Laureto.[191]

Beside sanctioning the foundation of the shrine, James gave it a tangible proof of his patronage. In August, 1534, as is shown by the Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer, he spent £22, 13s. 2d. in purchasing the materials and paying for the making and ornamenting of albs, amices, stoles, chasubles, and altar towels.[192] We learn from John Lesley, Bishop of Ross, that, in 1536, before setting out on his voyage to France for the purpose of bringing home the Lady Magdalene as his bride, the King, being in Stirling, "passit thairfra on his feitt, in pilgrimag to the Chappell of Lorrett, besid Mussilburgh". This statement is borne out by an entry in the _Liber Emptorum_: "Hodie (9th August), soluto disjunio, rex pedestre peregrinavit de Stirling versus Sanctam Mariam de Laureit et pernoctabat in Edinburgh".[193] The Accounts supply the further information that on this occasion he made a gift of four altar towels, two of "Dornik", that is, of the diapered linen cloth manufactured at Tournay, and two of bleached Breton canvas. Including twenty shillings "for sewing of XX crocis upoun the saidis towellis", the expense incurred amounted to £6, 11s. 6d. The sum of fourteen shillings was left with the "chapellanis of Lawrete to pray for the Kingis Grace"; and a further offering of two crowns was made after the actual embarkation at Newhaven.[194]

Thomas Duthie's foundation throve under the influence of royal favour, and from all parts of the country, pilgrimages to the shrine were performed, as Sir David Lyndsay testifies:

"I have seen pass ane marvellous multitude Young men and women flingand on thair feit, Under the forme of feinzeit sanctitude, For till adore ane image in Laureit."[195]

The satirist taxes the pilgrims with licentiousness, and alleges that

"Mony came with thair marrowis for to meit".[196]

Against the "Heremeit of Lawreit" himself he brings the charge that

"He pat the common peple in beleve That blynd gat seycht and crukit gat their feit, The quhilk that palyard no way can appreve".[197]

According to Row's _History of the Kirk of Scotland_, the popularity of the Musselburgh shrine was enhanced by the claim that it possessed, in addition to its general healing powers, a special obstetrical virtue, of which women secured the benefits by sending handsome presents to the priest and friars.[198]

That Duthie was a personage of some importance in his day may be gathered from the fact that the Earl of Glencairn wrote a "pasquinal" which Knox and Calderwood have preserved and which was entitled "Ane Epistill direct frae the halie Hermeit of Alareit to his Brethren the Gray Friars". But the success of his venture engendered envy, and Calderwood tells, with many caustic comments, how John Scott, "a landed man", having failed to get himself accepted as a partner in the Loretto concern, set up in competition with it. This John Scott had had a strange career, of which the sketch given by the historian, in his quaint language, is interesting enough to be reproduced. "Before his departure out of this country, he had succumbed in an action of law, and because he was not able to pay the sum which the other party had evicted, he took sanctuary at Holyroodhouse. There he abstained from meat and drink certain days. The bruit of his abstinence coming to the King's ears, the King caused put him into David's tower, in the Castle of Edinburgh, and bread and water to be set beside him. He abstained from eating and drinking thirty-two days. When he was let forth, the people came flocking to him. He uttered many idle speeches, and among the rest, that by the help of the Blessed Virgin, he could fast suppose never so long time. He went to Rome, where he was committed to prison, by Pope Clement, till trial was taken of his abstinence. He is set at liberty, and a sealed testimonial granted to him, with a seal of lead, and some mass clothes. After he had given the like proof at Venice, he got fifty ducats to supply his charges to Jerusalem. He brought with him from Jerusalem some date-tree leaves, and a pocke full of stones, which he fained were taken out of the pillar to which Christ was bound when he was scourged. By the way, when he was at London, he made an harangue against King Henry's divorce, and shaking off the Pope's authority, at Paul's Cross. He was thereupon committed to prison, but was set at liberty, after he had been keeped fifty days, all which space he abstained from meat and drink." It was on his return to Scotland, shortly after this, that Scott tried to get himself associated to Duthie. His overtures having been rejected, he "erected an altar in a chamber near Edinburgh, whereon he set his daughter, a young maid, and wax candles about her burning, to be worshipped in place of the Virgin Mary".[199] But the fame of Loretto was proof against such competition, and Scott had to retire from the unequal contest with Duthie.

In 1544, the Chapel of Our Lady of Lauret, together with a part of Musselburgh, was "brennt and desolated" by the English army under the Earl of Hertford. The shrine was rebuilt, however, and continued to attract devotees till the Restoration closed it. Very shortly before this, its prestige is said to have suffered greatly from the alleged discovery of a fraud practised by its priests in pretending to have restored the sight of a boy whom they falsely affirmed to have been born blind.

The whole incident is set forth at great length in Row's _History_. The hero of the story is Robert Colvill, Laird of Cleishe, who was commonly known as Squire Meldrum, and who, on that account, has sometimes been mistaken for the character celebrated by Lyndsay. He is described as "a gentleman of good understanding and knowledge, sound in the Reformed religion, and most zealous and stoute for the Reformation". But his wife, one of the Colquhouns of Luss, was a Catholic, and finding herself in need of such help as "the Ladie and Saints of Allarite" were supposed to have it in their power to give, she posted off her servant "with ane offering of gold, with her sarke (according to the custome), that shee might get easie delyverie". Her husband learning this, also hurried off, with the intention of hindering such a superstitious use of his money. He rode all the way to Loretto, however, without overtaking the messenger; and, on his arrival at the shrine, he was no less scandalized than surprised to find "the whole adjacent countrey of Mers, Tweedale, East, Middle, and West Lothians, convened to see ane miracle", the performance of which had been announced for that very day. "For the Papists, perceiving the Reformation to goe on quicklie, and fearing that their religion should be abandoned, the kirkmen, the Archbishops, Bishops, Preists, Freires, &c., consulted and advysed, and, after deliberation, resolved, that the best wayes to maintaine and uphold their Religion, wes to worke some miracle to confirme the people, (as they thought) that Poperie wes the true religion; and, therefore, they caused proclame in Edinburgh that on such a day there wes a great miracle to be wrought at St. Allerite's Chapell, for a man that wes borne blind, and had begged all his dayes, being a blind man, wes to be cured and receive his sight."

Such was the performance for which Squire Meldrum had arrived in time. And, indeed, he saw how an apparently blind beggar was brought forward on to a platform, and how, after certain ceremonies had been gone through, he seemed to recover the use of his eyes, and came down rejoicing amongst the people, who gave him money. But the Squire was not to be so easily convinced. On the contrary, he determined "to doe his best to find out the lurking deceit whereby the people were miserablie deceived". With this object in view, when the beggar, in whose way he contrived to put himself, asked him for a dole, he gave him not only an exceptionally large sum of money, but sympathetic words as well. "You are a verie remarkable man," he said, "on whom such a miracle has been wrought, I will have you to goe with me to be my servant." The beggar readily agreed, and mounting on horseback behind the Squire's attendant, rode off with his new master to Edinburgh. When the party reached Meldrum's lodgings, matters took a new turn. Locking the door upon himself and his new servant, drawing his sword, and assuming "a fierce countenance", the Squire said to the man: "Thou villane and deceiver of the people of God, either tell me the treuth of these things that I am to aske of you now presentlie, or els I will take upon me, with my sword, to cutt off thy head; for I am ane magistrate appointed by God to doe justice; and I am assured that all the preists and freirs, all the saints, nor the Pope himselfe, cannot work a miracle such as they pretend to do, namely, to cure a blind man. Therefor thou and they are but deceivers of the people; and either tell me the veritie, or els with this sword I will presentlie--as ane magistrate in this case--put ye to death." The poor wretch, thus taken unawares and terrified out of all thought of resistance, consented to do and to say whatever might be required of him. And the remarkable story which he told is reported in what professes to be his own language:--

"When I wes a young lad I wes a herd, and keeped the Sisters of the Sheines's sheep, and in my wantonness and pastime I used often to flype up the lids of my eyes, so that any bodie wold have trewed that I wes blind. I using often to play this pavie, the nunnes, the Sisters of the Sheines (so they were commonly called), did sometymes see me doe it and laugh at me. Then the Sisters send in word to Edinburgh that their sheppeard lad could play such a pavie. The kirkmen in Edinburgh hearing of such a thing, came out to the Sheines, and desired to see that sheppeard lad. I being brought and playing this pavie befor them, walking up and doune with my eyelids up, and the whyte of my eyes turned up as if I had been blind. The kirkmen that conveened there to see me, advised the Sisters, the Nunnes of the Sheines, to get another lad to keep their sheep, and to keep me hid in one of their volts or cellars for some years, ay till they thought meet to bring me out, and to make use of me as they pleased, and so, Sir, I wes keeped and fed in one of the volts, no bodie knowing that I wes there but the kirkmen and the Nunnes of the Sheines, for the space of seven or eight years. Then, Sir, they conveened me againe, and brought me befor them, and caused me sweare a great oath that I sould faine my selfe to be a blind man, and they put one to lead me through the countrey that I might beg as a blind man in the day tyme; but in the night, and also when I pleased, I put doune my eyelids and saw well enough, and I to this houre never revealed this to any; yea, my leader knew not but I wes blind indeed."

Next morning Squire Meldrum and the detected impostor, in accordance with a plan carefully devised by the former, betook themselves to the Mercat Crosse. There, after having attracted the attention of the public by thrice repeating the accustomed cry of "O yes!" the erstwhile blind beggar recited a speech which Meldrum had prepared for him, and in which he gave those who had seen the miraculous cure of the day before all the details of the fraud which he had helped to practise on them. Then, springing on to horses that were held in readiness for them, Meldrum and he galloped away towards Queensferry, on their way to Fifeshire, where they could depend on the protection of the Lords of the Congregation, and where they might defy "the preists, freiers, and the rest of that deceiving rabble".[200] And with this incident there is an end to the story of Loretto as a wonder-working shrine.

There is a charter which shows that, in 1569, Gavin Walker, "Chapline of the Chaplainerie of Loretto",[201] restored to the town the ground originally granted by it to Thomas Duthie. According to the brief notice contributed by "Jupiter" Carlyle to the old _Statistical Account_, the Chapel was demolished in 1590, and the materials were utilized for the building of a new tolbooth. He states that "this is said to have been the first religious house in Scotland whose ruins were applied to an unhallowed use". That is not improbable. But when "Jupiter" goes on to record that for this act "the good people of Musselburgh are said to have been annually excommunicated, till very lately, at Rome", he helps to perpetuate a tradition of which his own common sense might have shown him the improbability--not to use a harsher term.

FOOTNOTES: for LORETTO

[191] _History of the Regality of Musselburgh_, p. 95.

[192]

Item, for xxxvj elnis and ane quarter blechit bertane canwes to be thre albis, thre ametis, and thre altar towellis to oure Lady Chapell of Laureit, price of the elne iijs. iiijd.; summa ... ... ... vj_li._ x_d._

Item, to be thre croces to the chesabillis and to paill the fruntale, v-1/2 elnis quhite satyne, price of the elne xxxijs.; summa ... ... ... viij_li._ xvj_s._

Item, to be armes apoun the thre chesabillis and fruntell, ane quarter yallow satyne, price ... ... ... viij_s._

Item, to be frenzeis to the fruntell, ij unces silk, price thairof ... ... ... x_s._

Item, for bukrem, rubanis, making and uthir furnessing of the thre vestimentis, fruntell, stoill and parolis ... ... ... iiij_li._ v_s._ Item, to the broidstar for brodering of the Kingis armes apoun the saidis thre vestimentis and fruntell ... ... xxvj_s._ viij_d._

Item, for weving of the frenzeis to the fruntell, sewing of the albis, and croces to the towellis ... ... ... xxvj_s._ viij_d._ --Vol. vi, pp. 200-1.

[193] _Accounts_, vol. vi, p. lxij.

[194] _Accounts_, p. 299.

[195] _Ane Dialog betuix Experience and ane Courteour_, ll. 2661, _et seq._

[196] _Ibid._, l. 2665.

[197] _Ibid._, ll. 2690-2.

[198] "In these tymes there was besyde Mussilburgh, St. Allarit's chapell, and in these tymes of ignorance and superstition, it was believed that if women that were in hard labour did sent ane offering to the Preist and Freirs there, they wold get easy delyverance."--_History of the Regality of Musselburgh_, p. 101.

[199] Calderwood, _History of the Kirk of Scotland_, vol. i, pp. 101-2. Another and less prejudiced account of this John Scott is given by Peder Swave, who visited Scotland in 1535, as Ambassador from Christian II of Denmark to James V: "On the 11th of May I met with a hermit, named John Scott, a person of noble rank, who had quitted a beautiful wife, and children, and all his household, and determined to live by himself in solitude. He ate nothing but bread, and drank nothing save water or milk. He is believed to have endured a fast of forty days and nights in Scotland, England, and Italy. He also says that, when impelled by a higher power, he could not perish by fasting, as by the kindness of the Holy Virgin he has already been able to prove; if he should wish to do this by way of wager or bargain, that he would fail. He declares that he has no sensation of hunger when he fasts, that he loses neither his strength nor his flesh, feels neither heat nor cold, goes about with head and feet naked equally in summer and winter, and that his manner of life does not induce the approaches of age. Asked by me why he left such a beautiful wife, he replied that he wished to be a soldier of Heaven, and that whether his wife determined to serve God or the world was a matter of indifference to him. By chance there was amongst us a canon regular who said that he had been asked by the hermit's wife to reconcile them, but had taken the task upon him to no purpose."--Hume Brown, _Early Travellers in Scotland_, p. 56.

[200] Row, _History of the Kirk of Scotland_, Woodrow Society's edition.

[201] _History of the Regality of Musselburgh_, p. 106.

THE ISLE OF MAY

I

The May, situated at the entrance to the Firth of Forth, is the largest of the islets that stud the waters of the estuary between the coast of Fife and that of the Lothians. It lies ten miles to the north-east of Dunbar, and five to the south-west of Fifeness. Its greatest length is from east to west, and measures about a mile. Its width is greatest at the western extremity, and may be estimated at rather more than half a mile. The shape of the island is exceedingly irregular. At the south-western point a mass of precipitous rock gives it an imposing and picturesque appearance, but to the east and to the north the cliffs terminate abruptly, and are flanked by stretches of comparatively low-lying coast. Between their respective extremities the seaboard, which faces the north-east, is rugged and difficult of access, but does not otherwise present a striking outline.

In former days there were four landing-places, known as Tarpithol, Altarstanes, Pilgrims-haven, and Kirk-haven. At present there are but two. One of them is on the western side, where a gully, forming a kind of natural harbour, has been provided with a ladder, which is not, however, always available to large boats, and at certain states of the tide access to the island involves a considerable amount of clambering over the rocks. The other is situated on the north-east shore. It consists of a wharf, or rather slip, built at the head of one of the many coves. Its depth of water is less than that of the western harbour, but it has the advantage of being more sheltered.

The surface of May Island is uneven, but covered in most parts with excellent turf; and, according to Sibbald, its name, "which in the ancient Gothic signifieth a green island", was given to it "because of its commodiousness for pasture, for it is all green grass". According to the same writer, it was supposed to afford ample sustenance for a hundred sheep and some twenty cows, and was let as a grazing ground for £26 per annum. In the _Statistical Account of Scotland_, published in 1792, the Reverend James Forrester states, on the authority of a "very intelligent farmer", who had dealt in sheep for above thirty years, and who had had them from all the different corners of Scotland, that there is no place so well adapted for improving wool as the Island of May; that the fleeces of the coarsest-woolled sheep that ever came from the worst pasture in Scotland, when put on the island, became as fine as satin in the course of one season; that their flesh had also a superior flavour; and that rabbits bred on the May had a finer fur than those which were reared on the mainland.[202] The waters in the neighbourhood of the isle were long famous for their abundance of fish; and an old writer states that, in his time, many seals were slain on the east side of it.[203] At the present day the seals have wholly disappeared, and the fishing grounds are practically deserted. In a few of the more sheltered spots some attempt at cultivation has been made, but the result hardly seems to repay the labour. One feature which has always been considered of special importance is the possession of fresh water. The names of five wells are given--the Lady's Well, the Pilgrim's Well, St. John's Well, St. Andrew's Well, and the Sheep Well; but the water is not equally good in all. The most accessible is not far from the western landing-place, and by the side of the cart road that runs through the length of the island. A small lake mentioned by Sibbald is still to be seen, and is utilized.

Ecclesiastically the Isle of May belongs to the parish of Anstruther-Wester; and in the days when it was inhabited by fourteen or fifteen families, the minister of the mother church was supposed to visit them once every year.

The earliest description of the Isle of May is given by Jean de Beaugué, a French gentleman who came to Scotland in 1548 in the company of Monsieur de Dessé, the leader of the forces sent over by Henry II in support of the party that opposed the aggressive policy of England. His account represents the island as possessing coal mines, stone quarries, excellent pasturage, and abundant springs of fresh water, and as being admirably suited to afford safe anchorage to thirty or forty ships. If it were fortified and inhabited, he says, the Scotch and those foreigners who traded with them might navigate freely, without being reduced to the necessity of waiting for favourable winds to enable them to sail from Leith or Burntisland. By this means the whole country would derive immediate benefit from the proximity of an island that had hitherto served no better purpose than that of affording a convenient retreat to all the pirates who infested the coast, and who not only interfered with the fisheries and with the trade, but also harassed the armaments of the Scotch and of their allies.[204]

In Hector Boece's account of Scotland there is but a brief reference to the Isle of May "amang mony uther ilis" in the Firth of Forth. He mentions, as a natural curiosity, that, "in the middis of this Ile there springis ane fontane of fresche and purifyit water outhrow ane roche crag, to the gret admiratioun of peple, considerin it lyis in the middis of the seis". But its chief distinction, in his eyes, is that it was "decorit with the blude and martirdome of Sanct Adriane and his fallowis".[205]

The history, or, as it is perhaps more correct to call it, the legend of Adrian the Martyr of the May, is to be found in the Breviary of Aberdeen. It is there stated that he was born in the parts of Hungary and in the province of Pannonia, that he was of royal descent and of episcopal rank, and that his diligence in the sacred order was testified by the many clerics and seculars who were his companions. Desiring to benefit other nations, and inflamed with zeal for the Christian religion, Adrian betook himself to the eastern parts of Scotia, then occupied by the Picts, having along with him six thousand six hundred and six companions, among whom the most noteworthy were Glodiarus, who was crowned with martyrdom; Gayus and Monarus, white-robed confessors; Stobrandus, and other bishops adorned with the mitre. The names of the rest are written in purple blood in the Book of Life.

These holy men wrought many signs and wonders in the midst of the Picts; but at length, desiring a habitation of their own, they expelled the demons and wild beasts from the Island of May, and there made a place of prayer. They gave themselves up to devotion until the Danes, after devastating all Britannia, which is now called Anglia, landed on the island, when the holy confessors of God opposed them with the spiritual weapons of heavenly warfare. The enemy, not brooking their zealous preaching and their increasing confession of the most glorious name of Christ, rushed with their swords on the Blessed Adrian, the victim of the Lord, and crowned him with a glorious martyrdom. And in order that, concerning them, the words of the prophet should be verified anew, where the disconsolate Rachel is said to have bewailed her children, those most cruel executioners fell upon the holy and heavenly multitude who persevered in confessing Christ, and who, like sheep, fell under their swords in the Isle of May, where the martyrs of God, who, in this life, loved to serve him together, in death were not separated. There was one spirit in them and one faith. In that Isle of May there was anciently erected a monastery of well-hewn stone, which was destroyed by the Angles. But the church remains to this day, much visited for its miracles by the people, and women who go thither in the hope of offspring are not disappointed. There is also a famous cemetery, where the bodies of the martyrs repose. Such is the account of the Breviary.[206] The date ascribed to the event narrated in it is the fourth day of March, in the year 875.

In his _Cronykil of Scotland_ Andrew Wyntoun sums up the legend in the following lines:

"This Constantyne than regnand, Oure the Scottis in Scotland, Saynt Adriane wyth hys cumpany Came off the land off Hyrkany, And arrywyd in to Fyffe, Quhare that thai chesyd to led thar lyff. At the Kyng than askyd thai Leve to preche the Crystyn fay. That he granted wyth gud will, And thaire lykyng to fulfille, And [leif] to dwell in to his land, Quhare thai couth ches it mayst plesand. Than Adriane wyth hys cumpany Togydder come tyl Caplaweby. Thare sum in to the Ile off May Chesyd to byde to thare euday.

* * * * *

Hwb, Haldane, and Hyngare Off Denmark this tyme cummyn ware In Scotland wyth gret multitude, And wyth thare powere it oure-yhude (over-ran). In hethynes all levyd thai; And in dispyte off Crystyn fay In to the land thai slwe mony, And put to dede by martyry. And upon Haly Thurysday Saynt Adriane thai slwe in May Wyth mony off hys cumpany; In to that haly Ile thai ly."[207]

It may be incidentally mentioned that another saint, Mungo, the patron of Glasgow, is slightly and indirectly connected with the May. According to legend, St. Thenaw's father ordered her to be stoned and cast in a chariot from the top of Taprain Law, in punishment of her supposed sin. Having been miraculously preserved from destruction, she was then accused of witchcraft, and the father was urged by his heathen subjects to expose her in a boat made of twigs and pitch and covered with leather. In this coracle she was carried out to the Ile of May, whence, attended by a company of fishes, she was wafted to Culross, where she gave birth to St. Mungo.[208] There may not impossibly be some connection between this legend and the efficacity subsequently attributed to pilgrimages to the May when performed by women; and it is said to be from St. Thenaw that various spots in the island--the Lady's Well, the Lady's Bed, the Maiden Rocks, and the Maiden's Hair--are called.

It is usually stated that the monastery to which the Breviary of Aberdeen makes reference was founded by King David, and that he bestowed it upon the monks of Reading, in England, as a "cell", or dependency of their great abbey. But, as Dugdale points out, there is no actual proof of this in that monarch's charters. By the first of them he merely gives to the Church of May, and to the Prior and monks of the same place, a certain toft in Berwick in perpetual alms for the sake of his soul and the souls of his ancestors and successors; and by the second he enlarges his donation by gifts in Balegallin and other places, to hold, indeed, of him and of his heirs, but without any indication that he was the founder. At the same time, it must be admitted that the silence of the charters is no convincing proof of the contrary.

King William, grandson of David, confirmed to God and the Church of All Saints of May, and to William, the Prior, and to his successors, brethren of the Cluniac order, in free and perpetual alms, the donations made by his grandfather David, of pious memory, and by his predecessor and brother, King Malcolm. The contribution of the latter sovereign to these benefactions appears to have been the grant of a toll of five marks by the year from ships arriving at Perth. King William also enjoins all persons fishing round the Island of May to pay their due tithes to God and the aforesaid church without reserve. He also commands that no one shall unjustly detain from them the tithes to which they were entitled in the time of King David, on pain of forfeiture; nor shall anyone presume to fish in their waters, to construct buildings on the Isle of May, to dig land, or to cut grass there, without their licence. He moreover grants and confirms to them one mansion, with a toft in Dunbar, and the use of a vessel for transporting the necessaries of their household, as Earl Gospatric had granted, and King Malcolm confirmed to them. By later charters he bestows upon the Priory a grant of fourpence from all ships having four hawsers, coming to the ports of Pittenweem and Anstruther for the purpose of catching or selling fish, and also from boats with fixed helms. Of the "can" or duty collected at those ports he enjoins that the tenth penny shall be paid to the monks, but reserves the bulk for himself. He also gives them the lands of Petother, and further shows his goodwill towards them by exempting the men dwelling on their lands from military service--de exercitu et expeditione--and also from the payment of can and toll, and by extending the latter privilege to all who come to fish in their waters.[209]

It was not only to the liberality of their kings that the Monks of the May were indebted for the extensive and valuable lands which they owned on both sides of the firth. From Gospatric, the powerful Border Earl, they received a toft near his harbour of Bele. To this his successor, Patrick, Earl of Dunbar, added five acres of land near the same harbour. He also made over to them all the land "from Windydure to Kingissete, and so by the footpath coming down to Kingsburn, and from thence up by the high road which goes by the Rede Stane and by that road to Windydure, with common pasture". In addition to this he released them from the annual payment of a cow, which they had made till then for the lands which they held from him in Lambermor.[210]

Another benefactor, whose liberality is recorded in the Registry of the Priory of St. Andrews, was John Fitz-Michael. From him the monks got the lands of Mayschelis, in the Lambermor, on the south side of Calwerburne, together with an acre of meadow, and with pasture sufficient for three hundred mother sheep, thirty bearing cows, and twenty-four brood mares with their young. They were, further, to have ten sows with their brood in Fitz-Michael's pasture; and the men living on the land were allowed the privilege of taking as much peat and turf as was necessary for use in their own houses. To complete this handsome donation, it was declared free from all hosting, service, exaction, and multure.[211] The lands of Ardarie, in Fife, consisting of a carucate and a bovate, were made over to the prior and monks of May by William of Beaueyr, in perpetual alms, for the salvation of Countess Ada, of Malcolm the King, her son, and of William, the reigning sovereign. The island community was also to have the reversion of two bovates which William had given in dowry to his wife, and of one bovate which he had granted in life tenure to his sergeant, Ralph.[212] From Eggou Ruffus the monks received some land adjoining his own property of Lingoch; whilst Alexander Cumyn, Earl of Buchan, made a yearly donation of a stone of wax, or forty shillings, to be received at Rossy, at the fair of St. Andrew. Finally, a part of the Moor of Barewe, extending westwards from the foot of the hill of Whitelawe, was gifted to the priory by Gilbert of Saint Martin.[213]

But, besides the records which thus testify to the esteem in which the Monks of May were held, and to the substantial marks of favour granted them by munificent patrons, there also exist documents which tell of less friendly relations between them and other landowners on the mainland, and of protracted litigation with rival claimants. Thus, an agreement arrived at in the year 1260, between the community on the one side and Sir John de Dundemore on the other, with regard to the ownership of the lands of Turbrech, in Fife, refers to the "many altercations" to which the question had given rise, and sets forth the terms of settlement arrived at by the contending parties. Sir John was to make over to the monks the contested property, in "free and perpetual alms, for the weal of his soul and the souls of his predecessors and of his successors". In return for this substantial concession, the Prior and Brethren undertook to grant him and his heirs in perpetuity a monk to perform divine service for them in the Chapel of the Blessed Virgin Mary. In addition to this, they bound themselves to pay him, at their own option, either half a mark of silver yearly, or sixty "mulwelli"--probably haddock. If they chose to make payment in kind, the fish were to be supplied in two instalments--thirty at Whitsuntide and thirty at Martinmas. They further granted him and his heirs a glass lamp in the church of Ceres, with two gallons of oil, or twelve pence, yearly, for feeding it. The Lairds of Dundemore do not appear to have been altogether satisfied with the terms of a compromise which, so far as material interests were concerned, was obviously one-sided. As a protest against the total alienation of the lands of Turbrech, Henry de Dundemore demanded that the Prior of the May should swear fealty to him on account of them. The claim, which nothing in the charter formerly granted by Sir John seems to have justified, was resisted, whereupon Henry, compensating himself in a high-handed and tangible manner, distrained a horse belonging to the monks. The matter was referred to William, Bishop of St. Andrews. His decision is contained in a document dated in Cupar, on the first Monday after the Purification of the Blessed Virgin, in the year of the Lord 1285. It is wholly adverse to the layman, whom it orders to restore the horse, within eight days, to its rightful owners.[214]

II

In the year 1242 we find the House of May appealing to the Court of the Archdeaconry of Lothian against the encroachment of an ecclesiastic. The case for the monks was that Adam Black, of Dunbar, had bequeathed to them a house and croft, together with two "perticates" of arable land, but that, at his death, the property in question had been occupied and unjustly detained by Patrick, Chaplain of Dunbar. When the matter came before the authorities, Patrick could not deny the justice of the claim put forward. That he himself was not without some justification for the course he had taken is suggested by the decision of the Court. It was that he should remain in possession of the house and grounds, but should make to the Priory a payment of three shillings a year for them. This settlement was made by William Mortimer as representing the Bishop of St. Andrews, and by Baldred, Dean of Lothian, within the parish church of Haddington, in presence of the incumbent and of the vicar of North Berwick.[215]

When David I conveyed the Priory of May to the Monks of Reading, he also granted them the lands of Rindalgros, in Perthshire, where another cell for monks was erected, subject to the House of May. Here, too, questions of property and privilege brought the monks into conflict with their neighbours. Thus, between them and Duncan of Inchesiryth a dispute arose with regard to their respective fishing rights. The matter was so adjusted that both parties should be entitled to cast their nets in the contested waters, as it might suit them, and with no further restriction than the common use of the country.[216]

The records of the Priory also furnish details of disputes that arose between the Monks of May and other religious houses. Thus, in 1231, a case in which they were the pursuers came before a commission appointed by the Pope, and consisting of the Prior and of the Archdeacon of St. Andrews, together with the Dean of Fife. They complained that, although the church of Rind, with the teinds of the whole parish, belonged in property to them, the Brethren of Scone detained from them the tithes of four fishings--namely, of Sleples, Elpenslau, Chingil, and Inchesiryth--all situated within the bounds of the parish. After hearing the pleadings, allegations, and exceptions of both parties, the judges and their legal assessors decided that, for the sake of peace, the Monks of Scone should pay two merks of silver yearly to the House of May, and should, in return, be held free from all claims for the tithes.[217]

A few years before this, in 1225, the Prior and Brethren of the May were themselves the defendants in an action raised by the House of Dryburgh. From the official statement of the case it appears that the Parish Church of Anstruther belonged to the former and that of Kilrenny to the latter, and that the two parishes were separated from each other by a stream. In view of the fact that the boats which fished in this stream were moored on the Kilrenny side and that their anchors were fixed within the bounds of the parish, where they remained for the night, the Canons of Dryburgh maintained that they were entitled to one-half of the tithes arising from such boats, whilst the Monks of May levied the whole. The Abbot and the Prior of Melrose and the Dean of Teviotdale, acting as Papal Commissioners, decided that, "for the sake of peace, the Monks of May should pay yearly one merk of silver within the Parish Church of Kilrenny to the Canons of Dryburgh, for which payment the monks were to be free of all claim on the part of the canons, providing the latter should receive full tithes from their proper parishioners--that is, from the parishioners receiving spiritual benefits in the church of Kilrenny and using the said part of the shore; and that the monks should receive full tithes from all coming from other quarters, and using the said part of the shore".[218]

Amongst the documents relating to the May there is one which records an agreement arrived at between the Prior and Convent on the one hand and Malcolm, the King's Cupbearer, on the other, with regard to the Chapel of Ricardestone. The monks authorized the celebration of mass in the chapel by a chaplain from the House of Rindalgros, or some other in his stead, on every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, as well as on the principal feast days, such being Christmas and the three days after it, the Purification, Easter, the Ascension, Pentecost, the Assumption, the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, and All Saints. They also permitted that the holy bread--that is to say, the loaf offered by the people, blessed by the priest before the beginning of the mass, and distributed amongst the congregation--should be given there, but only by the men of the vill. There, too, the women of the vill--but they alone--might be churched, and also be heard in confession; but they were to pay the offering for wax to the Mother Church of Rindalgros, and there, too, were to receive communion at Easter. The Cupbearer himself and all his successors were to be at liberty to communicate either in the chapel or in the Mother Church. Malcolm might also have a priest attached to his chapel, provided such priest acknowledged submission to the Church of Rindalgros. In return for these concessions and privileges, the Cupbearer not only confirmed the gifts of land made by his father to the chapel, but also added a grant of other four acres in pure and perpetual alms.[219]

Apart from such incidents as the Records of the Priory of May indicate, there seems to have been only one event of importance in connection with it for more than a century from the time when King David conveyed it to the Monks of Reading, on condition that they should maintain in it nine priests of their brethren, to offer up the Mass for the benefit of his soul and of the souls of his predecessors and successors, Kings of Scotland. It is briefly referred to by the chronicler Torfæus in his account of one of Swein Asleif's expeditions. Steering southwards, he says, Swein and his followers arrived at the Isle of May. In that island there was a monastery, the abbot of which was named Baldwin. Being detained there for seven days, they professed to be ambassadors from Earl Ronald to the King of Scotland. The monks, suspecting them to be robbers, sent to the mainland for help. On this, Swein plundered the monastery, and took much booty. As a strangely inconsistent sequel to this story, Torfæus adds that Swein then sailed up the Firth of Forth, and found King David in Edinburgh; that the King received Swein with much honour, and entreated him to remain; and that Swein told David all that had occurred between him and Earl Ronald, and how he had plundered the Isle of May. The same historian also states that on another occasion Swein anchored at the Isle of May, from which he dispatched messengers to the King at Edinburgh.[220]

Spottswood states, in his _List of Religious Houses in Scotland_, that the Priory of the May, originally put under the patronage of All Saints, was subsequently consecrated to the memory of St. Adrian. He does not, however, mention on what occasion. He adds that William Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrews, purchased it from the Abbot of Reading, and notwithstanding the complaints made thereupon by Edward Longshanks, King of England, bestowed it upon the canons regular of his cathedral. Fordun and Prynne both give details of the transaction; but from documents discovered at a later date and published in the _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_,[221] it appears that neither of them states the case quite fully nor quite correctly. It is to be gathered from the proceedings relative to the claim of the Abbot and Convent of Reading on the Priory, that it was Robert de Burghgate, Abbot of Reading, who sold the Scottish "cell" to William, Bishop of St. Andrews, and that he received from him 1100 merks on account of the price. It would seem, however, that he effected this transaction contrary to the wish of the majority of his monks; and, on this ground, his successor, Abbot William, attempted to overturn it. In the Parliament of John Baliol, held at Scone on the 10th of February, 1292, John Sutton and Hugh Stanford, appearing as his representatives, demanded either possession of the Priory of May or payment of the balance of the price agreed to be paid for it, together with the fruits and rents accruing from it during the preceding four years. Failing recognition of their claims, they were empowered to appeal to the judgment of the King of England--a significant instruction which shows that Edward intended to turn the dispute to account in the prosecution of his designs against the independence of Scotland.

When the English representatives presented their abbot's petition they were asked whether he was prepared to repay to the Bishop of St. Andrews the 1100 merks already received on account. They cautiously replied that they had not been sent to make any payment, and could not undertake to do so; and they requested that the case, which had been brought to a deadlock by reason of the Scottish counterclaim, might be adjourned to the next, or to some subsequent Parliament, so that they might have time to consult both the Abbot of Reading and the English King. To escape from the necessity of either recognizing or challenging the sovereign authority which Edward claimed, and by virtue of which it was intended to get the dispute settled in favour of the Monks of Reading, the Bishop of St. Andrews, on his side, appealed to the Roman See. The case being thus removed from the Scottish Court, Baliol had a plausible reason for refusing to proceed further in the matter. The English abbot's attorneys were not, however, satisfied with this move on the part of their opponents. Alleging a denial of justice in the Scottish Court, they appealed to King Edward as Lord Superior of the Kingdom of Scotland. He consequently issued a writ, dated at Dunton on the 2nd of September, 1293, by which he cited John Baliol to appear before him within a fortnight of the feast of St. Martin. Baliol disregarded not only this first summons, but also two others, which respectively called upon him to appear within the octave of the feast of the Holy Trinity, and within a month after Easter. A fourth writ was then forwarded to the Sheriff of Northumberland. It was to be served by him in person on the Scottish King, whom it commanded to appear before his suzerain within a month after Michaelmas, and to bring with him the record of the proceedings in the Scottish Court prior to the appeal to the Holy See. In the absence of further documents bearing on the case, it may be assumed that "the final overthrow of the paramount claims of England, which was one of the happy results of Bannockburn, of course precluded any further English interference with the agreement which had rescued the Priory of May from an alien mother".[222]

The first extant document subsequent to the severance of the connection between the Scottish cell and the English monastery is dated the 1st of July, 1318, and is a deed of gift by which William, Bishop of St. Andrews, makes over to the Canons of the Monastery of St. Andrews an annual pension of sixteen merks formerly due by the Priory of May to the Monastery of Reading.[223] In 1415 there is an obligation by Henry, Bishop of St. Andrews, for payment to the same canons of twenty pounds Scots out of the sequestrated revenues of the Priory of May. About the middle of the century the "Priory of Pittenweem or May" was annexed by Pope Paul II to the See of St. Andrews, as a mensal possession of the bishop's, during his lifetime. In 1472 this annexation was made perpetual by Pope Sixtus IV.[224]

In this deed of annexation, and in others anterior to it, from 1318 onwards, the alternative appellation "May or Pittenweem" occurs. According to the editor of the _Records_, the explanation seems to be "that the Monks of May had, from the first, erected an establishment of some sort on their manor of Pittenweem, on the mainland of Fife, which, after the priory was dissevered from the House of Reading and annexed to that of St. Andrews, became their chief seat, and that thereafter the monastery on the island was deserted in favour of Pittenweem, which was less exposed to the incursions of the English, nearer to the superior house at St. Andrews, and could be reached without the necessity of a precarious passage by sea".[225]

By a charter bearing the date of the 30th of January, 1549, John Roull, Prior of Pittenweem, feued the Isle of May to Patrick Learmonth of Dairsy, Provost of St. Andrews. The deed of conveyance describes the island as waste and spoiled by rabbits, which had once been an important source of revenue, but of which the warrens were now completely destroyed. As reasons justifying the alienation of the May, Roull referred to its remoteness and to the consequent difficulty of access to it, to its unprofitableness, and to its liability to invasion by those ancient enemies, the English, who on the outbreak of hostilities were wont to take possession of it, thus rendering it a useless adjunct to his monastery. Amongst the rights ceded to Learmonth was that of patronage of the church, which was to be maintained, and to which he was to appoint a chaplain, for the purpose of continuing divine service therein, out of reverence for the relics and sepulchres of the saints interred in the island, and for the reception of pilgrims and their offerings, according to the custom of old times, and even within memory of man.[226]

Numerous records testify to the reverence in which the island shrine of St. Adrian was held during the fifteenth and the sixteenth century. Thus, it is stated that when Mary of Gueldres was on her way to Scotland in June, 1449, to become the wife of James II, she anchored near the May, and performed her devotions in the chapel before proceeding on her voyage to Leith.[227] It may be seen from entries in the Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer for Scotland that King James IV was a very assiduous pilgrim to the island, and a liberal patron of the hermit who had established his cell there. They record a visit which he paid in 1503. It was not his first, as there is a brief notice of his having landed in 1490; but it is the earliest of which any details are supplied. He sailed from Leith, accompanied by a considerable retinue, amongst whom were the clerks of the Chapel Royal, who sang mass in the chapel on the island. After the celebration the Royal party took boat again, and, safely piloted in "the litill bark callit the _Columb_" by Robert Barton's mariners, who got fourteen shillings for their trouble, landed at Anstruther. On that occasion the hermit of May received nine shillings by the King's command. In the beginning of July, 1505, John Merchamestoun was commissioned to pass to Kinghorn, Dysart, and Kirkcaldy to seek mariners against the King's passing to May. Previous to the voyage, the King himself drew a hundred French crowns for his own purse. The men that rowed him to the ship received six shillings, and next day, those "that rowit the King fra his schippes to Maij, and to the schippes agane", got seven. Nine shillings were paid "to the botemen that brocht the Kingis stuf, and the maister cuke with the Kingis souper fra the schip to Maij, and fra Maij to the schip agane". The donation to the hermit amounted to five shillings and fourpence. Similar entries occur in 1506 and 1507; but those of the former of these years show additional sums for offerings of candles and of bread, and for a donation on behalf of the Queen. They also show that the royal ship was provided with nine cross-bows. In 1508 there is evidence of a shooting party on the May. On the last day of June in that year sixteen pence were paid "to ane row bote that hed the King about the Isle of Maij to schut at fowlis with the culveryn". There were other three boats "that hed in the Kingis folkis and chanounis, with pairt of lardis of the contree". It was in the _Lion_ that James came over from the mainland; and amongst the provisions with which she was supplied for the voyage mention is made of one puncheon of wine, three barrels of ale, and one hundred and four score "breid of wheat". It is not unworthy of notice that a charter, dated only a few days before the death of James IV at Flodden, makes special mention of the May.[228] It erects certain lands into a free barony in favour of Sir Andrew Wood of Largo on condition that he or his heirs should accompany the King and his Consort, or their successors, on their pilgrimages to the island.

III

An entry in the Register of the Privy Council for the year 1577 not only bears out de Beaugué's statement with regard to the presence of pirates about the May, but it also suggests the complicity of the people on the neighbouring coast. It sets forth that "the Council has thought convenient that the persons, buyers, and intromettors with the goods taken in piracy by a French ship of war lately frequenting about the May, shall be called before my Lord Admiral and his deputies, as well to make surety that the same shall be forthcoming to the just owners, friends, and confederates of this realm, as to underlie punishment for buying and resset of unlawful gudis upon the stream, according to the laws and justice".

A peculiar use to which the May was put in 1580 is recorded in the same Register. Certain persons "infectit with the pest" having arrived within the waters and river of Tay, on board a ship of which John Anderson was master, charge had been given them to withdraw themselves, together with their ship and goods, with all possible diligence, to the Isle of May, and to remain there, under pain of death, till they were cleansed and had obtained licence to depart. In spite of that, they had gone farther up the Tay, with the intention of landing and selling their goods. They were consequently ordered a second time, under the same penalty, to be rigidly executed, to repair to the Isle of May; and the lieges were commanded, by open proclamation, at all places needful, not to suffer any of them to come to land or harbour, under the same penalty of death. If any of the infected persons violated the order, the Provost and Magistrates within whose bounds the transgression had taken place were to cause them and those who harboured them to be apprehended and executed; the infected houses were to be closed, and the ship, boats, and goods to be burnt.

The first lay proprietor of the May, Patrick Learmonth, retained possession of the island for only two years. In 1551, it was conferred on Andrew Balfour of Monquhannie. Seven years later, it was again granted to John Forret of Fyngask, with the proviso that, in view of the exposed situation of the isle, he should not be bound to pay the feu duty at any time when there was war between Scotland and any foreign nation. A still later owner of the May was Allan Lamont, by whom it was sold to Alexander Cunningham, Laird of Barnes. Cunningham built on it "a convenient house, with accommodation for a family". It was he, too, who, at the request and for the benefit of the seafaring population of the towns situated on the northern coast of the firth, set up a lighthouse, the first on the Scottish seaboard, on the Isle of May. The Register of the Privy Council enables us to follow some of the negotiations entered upon with a view to its erection. In January, 1631, the Lords of the Privy Council, in consequence of Cunningham's application, ordered letters to be directed, charging the Provosts and Bailies of Edinburgh, Dundee, St. Andrews, Crail, Anstruther, Pittenweem, Dysart, Kirkcaldy, Kinghorn, and Burntisland to send commissioners to represent them before the Council, and to give their advice and opinion "anent ane propositioun made to the Kingis Majestie for erecting of lichts upon the Isle of May, as ane thing thought to be most necessarie and expedient for the saulfetie of shippes arryving within the Firth". The question of the costs which the upkeep of the light would entail appears to have presented considerable difficulty at first. In spite of petitions from skippers and others most directly interested in the scheme, "the Lords of the Secret Council having heard and considered the report made by the commissioners for the burghs touching the lights craved by Alexander Cunningham of Barnes to be erected on the Isle of May, and being well advised therewith, and with the reasons and grounds of the same", found "no reason for imposing any duty to be uplifted towards the maintenance of the said lights". The matter was not, however, allowed to drop; and on the 22nd of April, 1636, the King at length acceding to the request of the coast towns, authorized Cunningham to build a lighthouse and to keep it up for nineteen years. Funds for its maintenance were to be obtained directly from those most benefited by it, by the imposition of a duty of two shillings Scots--that is, two pence sterling--per ton, on all ships sailing between St. Abb's Head and Dunottar. Cunningham erected in the same year, "a tower forty feet high, vaulted to the top and covered with flagstones, whereon all the year over, there burned in the night-time a fire of coals for a light". Sibbald states that the coals employed were from Wemyss, and that these were preferred on account of their hardness and of the clearness of their light, that about three hundred and eighty tons were consumed annually, and that three men were employed in keeping the beacon, two of whom were always on watch during the night. In the edition of Sibbald's work published in 1803, it is mentioned that prior to 1790, but subsequently to the time when the dues had been fixed at three-halfpence per ton for Scottish ships, and threepence for foreign--including English--vessels, the revenue of the lighthouse was farmed at £280 per annum, that it then rose to £960, and that in 1800 it was further augmented to £1500--"a striking proof of the increase of trade in this country". To commemorate the erection of this earliest of the Northern Lights, and to indicate--not absolutely correctly, however--the date, a scholar of St. Andrews composed these two lines of Latin doggerel:

Flumina ne noceant neu flumina lumina Maia PrebVIt et MeDIIs InsVLa LVX et aqVIS.

There is a tradition that the architect who planned and built the tower perished, on his voyage to the mainland, in a storm which some old women, then supposed to be witches, were burnt for raising.

In the description of the May contributed to the _Statistical Account of Scotland_ published in 1792, the Rev. James Forrester reports a very melancholy accident which happened whilst he was employed in drawing up his notice, and which he thinks ought to be recorded as a warning for future times. "The keeper of the lighthouse, his wife, and five children were suffocated. One child, an infant, is still alive, who was found sucking at the breast of its dead mother. Two men, who were assistants to the keeper, were senseless, but got out alive. This truly mournful event was owing to the cinders having been allowed to accumulate for more than ten years. The cinders reached up to the window of the apartments where these unfortunate people slept. They were set on fire by live coals falling from the lighthouse, and the wind blowing the smoke into the windows, and the door below being shut, the consequences were inevitable. These persons were the only inhabitants, and all of them lodged in the lighthouse. The families who formerly resided there lodged in houses detached from it. The old plan is to be again adopted, and houses are preparing for lodging the keeper and a boat's crew, which will be of advantage to all the coast, as they will be ready to give intelligence when the herrings come into the Firth."

After the Union the unequal incidence of the duties leviable for the light of May--English and Irish vessels being charged double rates as foreigners--gave rise to much dissatisfaction. In addition to this, there was a general feeling that anything that was payable in the form of a tax ought not to be held as private property. With regard to the light itself, it gradually became more evident that a coal fire, exposed in an open choffer to the vicissitudes of the weather, was altogether inadequate to the requirements of the shipping trade. After the appointment of a Lighthouse Board in Scotland in the year 1786, those most directly affected often expressed a wish that the light of May should be included as one of the Northern Lights; that it should get the benefit of the most recent improvements; that, in accordance with the spirit and conditions of the Act for the regulation of the Northern Lighthouses, the invidious distinction between the shipping of the three kingdoms should be done away with; and, further, that there should be some prospect of the duties being modified and ultimately ceasing altogether. Moved by these various considerations, the shipping trade of the Firth of Forth repeatedly approached the family of Scotstarvit, into whose hands the property and light of May had come by purchase, in 1714, with a view to the improvement of the old beacon. In consequence of representations from the Chamber of Commerce of Edinburgh, which visited the island in 1786, the choffer was enlarged to the capacity of a square of three feet, and the quantity of fuel annually consumed increased to about 400 tons. The Chamber further recommended that the stock of coals, hitherto exposed to the open air on the island, should in future be kept under cover, and that the supply should invariably be obtained from the collieries of Wemyss, of which the coal was considered fittest for maintaining a steady light, and was consequently employed at Heligoland and other coal lights on the Continent. All these conditions were complied with by Miss Scott of Scotstarvit's tutors, and from that time the May beacon became the most powerful coal light in the kingdom, the capacity of its choffer being double that of any other. But even these improvements could not prevent it from being unsteady in bad weather, and there still remained the great disadvantage that limekilns and other accidental open fires upon the neighbouring coast were apt to be mistaken for the May light. To obviate the possibility of such mistakes, the Trinity House of Leith, in 1790, presented a memorial to the Duke of Portland, who, through his marriage with Miss Scott, had become proprietor of the May, and requested him to replace the coal-beacon by an oil-light with reflectors, enclosed in a glazed light-room. In spite of this application and of many others from various quarters, no further improvements were introduced at the time.

In the year 1809, Robert Stevenson, engineer to the Northern Lights Board, foreseeing that, notwithstanding the recent erection of the Bell Rock Lighthouse, the navigation of this part of the coast would still be very dangerous unless the light of May were improved, took an opportunity of bringing the matter under the notice of the Commissioners, who were not of opinion, however, that it could be taken up by them except at the instance of the proprietor. In the following year the question was brought into prominence by an event of serious importance. Early in the morning of the 19th of December two of His Majesty's ships, the frigates _Nymphen_ and _Pallas_, were wrecked near Dunbar, in consequence, it was believed, of the fire of a limekiln on the Haddingtonshire coast having been mistaken for the May light. The ships were completely lost, but, the weather being moderate, only nine men were drowned out of the joint crews of some 600. It was a remarkable circumstance attending the catastrophe, that, although the two ships had sailed in company, and had struck within a few miles of each other, their similar fate was perfectly unknown to the respective crews till late in the day.

This loss of £100,000 roused the Government to action. Lord Viscount Melville, who was First Lord of the Admiralty at the time, applied to the Lighthouse Board to take over the light of May as one of the Northern Lights. In the negotiations that ensued, the Duke of Portland proposed a scheme, in accordance with which he was to carry out the suggested alterations, and the Commissioners were to become his lessees. This proposal did not, however, meet with the approval of the latter, their opinion being that the only position they could assume in the transaction was that of purchasers for the public. The ultimate result was the acquisition of the Isle of May, together with the light duties, for the sum of £60,000--£3000 less than the Duke of Portland had originally demanded. This was in 1814. That same year an Act was passed reducing the light duty to one penny per ton for all British ships. Immediate measures were also taken for carrying out the necessary improvements. In the course of the following summer, a new lighthouse was erected, and a light from oil, with reflectors, was exhibited on the 1st of February, 1816. The following official description of the new light of May was published at the time:--

"The lighthouse on the Isle of May is situate at the entrance of the Firth of Forth, in North lat. 56° 12´, and long. 2° 36´ west of London. From the lighthouse Fifeness bears by compass N. by E. 1/2 E., distant five miles; and the Staples Rocks, lying off Dunbar, S. by W. 1/2 W., distant ten miles. The light, being formerly from coal, exposed to the weather in an open grate or choffer, was discontinued on the night of the 1st of February, 1816, when a light from oil, with reflectors, known to mariners as a Stationary Light, was exhibited. The new lighthouse tower upon the Isle of May is contiguous to the side of the old one, and is elevated 240 feet above the medium level of the sea, of which the masonry forms 57 feet, and is therefore similar to the old tower in point of height. The new light is defended from the weather in a glazed light-room, and has a uniform steady appearance, resembling a star of the first magnitude, and is seen from all points of the compass, at the distance of about 7 leagues, and intermediately, according to the state of the atmosphere."

In the summer of 1814, shortly after the May had been acquired by the Northern Lights Board, Sir Walter Scott accompanied the Commissioners on their visit of inspection. In the Diary which he kept during the cruise, the following entry occurs under date of the 29th of July, the day on which the lighthouse yacht sailed from Leith:--"Reached the Isle of May in the evening, went ashore, and saw the light--an old tower, and much in the form of a border-keep, with a beacon-grate on the top. It is to be abolished for an oil revolving-light, the grate-fire only being ignited upon the leeward side when the wind is very high.... The isle had once a cell or two upon it. The vestiges of the chapel are still visible. Mr. Stevenson proposed demolishing the old tower, and I recommended 'ruining' it 'à la picturesque', i.e., demolishing it

## partially. The island might make a delightful residence for

bathers."[229] Scott's romantic suggestion was not, however, adopted. The old lighthouse tower on the Isle of May was reduced in height to about 20 feet, and by direction of the Board was converted into a guardroom for the convenience of pilots and fishermen. The square, battlemented, white building is still standing at the present day. Above the door there is a tablet with a figure of the rising sun over the date 1636. It is surmounted by a lion holding an escutcheon, on which the armorial bearings--probably those of the builder--are no longer decipherable. In the vaulted room within the tower there is an old iron grate with the initials A. C., which suit Alexander Cunningham, and are doubtless his.

The ruins mentioned by Sir Walter are also visible at the present day, though in an even more dilapidated state than when he saw them. They are situated in a hollow, towards the south-east end of the island, probably near the spot where the monastery stood. They are doubtless the remains of St. Adrian's Chapel, which continued to be visited by pilgrims long after the destruction of the monastery itself. The space within the walls measures about 32 feet in length and 15 feet in breadth. In the west wall are two windows, of which the semi-circular interior openings seem to indicate Norman work, and suggest the thirteenth century as the date of the building. There are also remnants of windows both in the south and in the north wall. A shapeless gap near the southern extremity shows the position of the door. Just within it there may still be seen what is perhaps a fragment of the holy-water stoup. From the fact that the ruins lie north and south, it has been thought that the chapel occupied only a part of the building, and duly lay east and west within it. If such were the case, it must have been of exceptionally small dimensions, and have contained a very diminutive altar. At the present time no attempt seems to be made to prevent the venerable relic from falling further into decay; and the rough enclosure within which it stands is used as a sheep-pen.

The lighthouse now on the May is situated close to the old tower. It is a massive quadrangular stone building surmounted by a square tower which at a distance gives it the appearance of a church. It first came into use on the 1st of December, 1886. For fifteen years previously the Commissioners of the Northern Lights had been anxious to establish an electric light on the Scottish coast; but it was not till 1883 that the Board of Trade was able to sanction the expenditure, and suggested its introduction at the Isle of May, on the ground that "there was no more important station on the Scottish shores, whether considered as a landfall, as a light for the guidance of the extensive or important trade of the neighbouring coast, or as a light to lead into the refuge of the Forth". The new buildings, engines, electric machines and lamps cost £15,835; but, including old material which it was found possible to utilize, the total installation was estimated at £22,435. As to technical details, it may suffice to mention that the generators are two of De Meritens's alternate-current magneto-electric machines, weighing about four and a half tons each. The engines are a pair of horizontal surface-condensing steam engines, each with two cylinders 9 inches in diameter and 18 inches stroke, making 140 revolutions per minute. There are two steam boilers, of which only one is in use at a time. Each of them is 20 feet long and 5 feet 6 inches in diameter. Only one of the three electric lamps is used at a time, and is changed once an hour to allow it to cool. The light is about 25,000 candle-power, but when seen from the water gives a flash equal to 3,000,000 candles, which can be increased to 6,000,000. The May apparatus is so designed as to give a group of four flashes in quick succession, followed by an interval of darkness lasting thirty seconds. The highest recorded distance at which the reflection of the light has been observed is 61 nautical miles. The May is also provided with a powerful horn, of which the sound serves as a guide during the frequent "haars" or sea-fogs that rise from the North Sea. In addition to this, it has a smaller fixed light which serves as a leading light for ships coming down from Fifeness. It is visible on one side of the island only.

Owing to the increased cost of maintenance of the May light--it is estimated at more than £1000 a year--an Order in Council was issued in 1886, authorizing the collection of two-sixteenths of a penny per ton, as light dues, from vessels carrying cargo or passengers, which may pass or derive benefit from the light when on a coasting or home-trade voyage, and of one penny per ton when on an oversea voyage, subject to the usual deductions.

The May light is served by seven keepers, the chief of whom does not, however, share the watches. Their quarters, which are neat and commodious, and sufficiently large for the accommodation of such of them as have families, are situated at some distance from the lighthouse, between two hills that afford protection from the prevalent gales. Close to them is the engine-house, with its tall chimney-stalk. The necessary supply of water for it is drawn from the little lake, of which early descriptions of the island make mention, and which has now been turned into a reservoir.

FOOTNOTES: for THE ISLE OF MAY

[202] _Statistical Account of Scotland_, vol. iii, p. 84.

[203] Sibbald, _History of Fife_, p. 101.

[204] Hume Brown, _Early Travellers in Scotland_, pp. 68-69.

[205] Hume Brown, _Scotland before 1700_, p. 78.

[206] _Breviar. Aberdonen._, _Pars Hyemalis_, fol. lxii.

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