"These stories of the States have been very interesting to me,
captain," remarked Mr. Lilburn, breaking a little pause which had
followed the conclusion of the brief sketch just given of the early
history of Louisiana.
"I feel flattered that my crude efforts in that line should be so
highly appreciated," returned the captain, with a gratified smile as he
spoke, then added, "And now, if you feel like making a return in kind,
Cousin Ronald, suppose you give us a page or two of Scottish history,
than which I think there is hardly anything more interesting."
"I acknowledge that it is very interesting to me, a native of that
land, though now feeling myself a full-fledged American, but how is it
with these younger folk?" returned Mr. Lilburn, glancing inquiringly
around upon the ladies and children.
It was Grandma Elsie who answered in tones of pleased anticipation,
"Indeed, cousin, I should be delighted; for to me the history of that
grandfather land of mine is only secondary in interest to that of this,
my dear native land, largely peopled by the descendants of those who
struggled so bravely for civil and religious liberty in Scotland."
"Ah, cousin mine, I am glad to ken that you care for that auld
fatherland o' yours and mine," returned the old gentleman, smiling
affectionately upon her. "There are many passages in her history
that are interesting and heart stirring to the pride and love of the
descendants of the actors in the same. But to what particular passages
in her history shall I call your attention now?"
The query seemed addressed to all present, and Elsie Dinsmore answered
quickly and earnestly, "Oh, tell us all you can about that beautiful,
unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. I suppose you must have seen all the
palaces and castles she ever lived in there in Scotland?"
"Yes, my bonny bairn, I have, and regard them with great interest
because of her one-time occupation of them. Linlithgow Castle is now
only a picturesque old ruin, yet one may stand in the very room, now
roofless, to be sure, where Queen Mary was born. The walls of that
castle were very thick and strong, but not then deemed strong enough to
protect the royal infant, born on the 7th of December, 1542. There was
rejoicing at her birth, but it would have been greater had she been a
lad instead of a lass. Her father, then on his deathbed, exclaimed when
he heard the news, 'Woe to the crown of Scotland; it came with a lass
and it will go with a lass.'
"Her sex was a disappointment to Scottish hearts, yet still they
loved her, and would do all in their power to protect and defend her,
especially from the English King, Henry VIII., with whom they were
then at war, and who was doing all in his power to get possession of
the little princess, purposing in time to marry her to his son, and so
unite the two kingdoms under one crown."
"Why, that would have been a fine way to put a stop to the fighting
between the two kingdoms, I should think," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Perhaps, if he had offered good terms, but those he did offer were
so harsh that Scotland's Parliament rejected them, and for greater
security both Mary and her mother were taken from Linlithgow to
Stirling Castle, a grand fortress atop of a lofty hill above the
beautiful valley of Monteith. It seemed a safe place for the bonny baby
queen, but some wicked, treacherous men formed a plot to carry her off
to England; but it failed because her guardians were so very cautious
as never to admit more than one person at a time to see her.
"So many dangers threatening her, it was thought best to crown her
queen as soon as possible, and when she was nine months old she was
one Sunday morning taken from her nursery to the chapel of the castle.
There one of her nobles held her on the throne and spoke for her the
words she should have spoken had she been old enough. Then the Cardinal
held the crown over her head, and for a moment clasped her tiny fingers
about the scepter, and buckled the sword of state around her waist.
Then every peer and prelate present, one after another, knelt before
her, held his right hand above her baby head, and swore to defend her
with his life. But alas, alas! few o' them proved faithful to their
oath.
"A strange life lay before that little babe. She was perhaps six years
of age when taken to France as a safer place for her than Scotland.
She was married early in life to the young King Francis II., but in
seventeen months his death made her a widow. She left France for her
own land, and arrived at Leith in August, 1561, doubtless little
dreaming the sad fate in store for her in the British Isles," sighed
the kind-hearted old gentleman, then for a moment he seemed lost in
thought.
"Can you tell us in what town and castle she made her home?" asked
Elsie Dinsmore.
"Holyrood Castle in Edinburgh," replied Mr. Lilburn. "It was in the
chapel of that castle she was married to her cousin, Henry Stuart, Lord
Darnley, in July, 1565. She was then about twenty-three years of age."
"Did she love him, Cousin Ronald?" asked Elsie Raymond.
"No doubt of it, lassie, for she had plenty of other offers; it really
seemed as though every royal bachelor and widower wanted her for a
wife. And small wonder, for she was very sweet and beautiful.
"She called Darnley the handsomest man she had ever seen; doubtless it
was his good looks she fell in love with, but a few weeks of wifehood
with him showed her that his character was far less admirable than
his looks; he was vain, selfish, ungrateful, took all her favors as
a matter of course and asked for more. Soon after their marriage the
English ambassador wrote of them, 'The Queen doth everything in her
power to oblige Darnley, but Darnley does not do the least thing to
oblige her.' She had a few weeks of happiness during their wedding
journey through the interior of Scotland, but soon after that Darnley
began treating her with brutal unkindness. At a public banquet, only
four months after their marriage, he began to drink to excess, urging
his guests to do the same. Queen Mary tried quietly to check him, but
he turned upon her with such vulgar violence that she left the room in
tears. And he was so insolent to the Court in general that he was soon
almost universally detested."
"And I should hardly think it was possible for poor Queen Mary to go on
loving him," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Nor should I," said Mr. Lilburn; "for certainly he was very different
from what she had believed him to be when she married him. And, poor
lady, she greatly needed the right sort of husband to protect and help
her, for the nobles who surrounded her were treacherous, unprincipled
men, ready to commit any crime that would enable them to govern
Scotland to suit themselves, by making the sovereign a mere cipher in
their hands. I presume you all know something of the brutal murder of
Rizzio?"
"Yes, sir, I believe we do; but please tell us the whole story about
it," said Elsie Raymond.
"He was a singer in the chapel of Holyrood Castle, had a voice of
wonderful power and sweetness, which so pleased the Queen that she made
him leader of the singing in her chapel services. He was a homely man,
but a clever linguist, faithful and prudent, and Queen Mary made him
her private secretary. The treacherous lords wanted to get rid of him
because he was not one of them, yet had so great influence with the
Queen; they determined to murder him, and that on the pretence that
the Queen was so fond of him as to make Darnley jealous. It was all a
pretence, just to trump up a reason for murdering Rizzio.
"One evening in March, 1566, Queen Mary was in her library at supper,
with three friends as her guests--a lady, a gentleman and Rizzio. She
did not know that her Lord Chancellor Morton had, just after dusk,
led a body of armed men into the courtyard of this, her Holyrood
Castle. Some of these men had hidden themselves in Darnley's room,
just underneath these apartments of hers, and a winding staircase led
up from them. Suddenly Darnley, who had come up this private stairway,
entered the room, sat down in a vacant chair beside her, put his arm
around her waist and gave her an affectionate kiss.
"It was a Judas kiss, for at the same time the murderers whom he was
assisting had stolen softly into the Queen's bedroom, and now they
crowded through the doorway into her presence. She was alarmed, and at
once demanded the reason for their intrusion.
"They said they meant no harm to her, only to the villain near her.
"Rizzio understood, and said to her, 'Madam, I am lost!' 'Fear not,'
she answered, 'the King will never suffer you to be slain in my
presence, nor can he forget your many faithful services.'
"The words seemed to touch Darnley's heart and make him unwilling to
perform his part in the wicked work, and Ruthven exclaimed fiercely,
'Sir, look to your wife and sovereign.'
"At that Darnley forced Mary into a chair and held her there so tightly
that she could not rise, while one of the ruffians presented a pistol
to her side and swore a horrible oath that he would shoot her dead if
she resisted.
"'Fire,' she replied, 'if you have no respect for my life,' and her
husband pushed away the weapon.
"But now others of the murderous crowd were in the room, lighting
it up with the glare of torches, and Rizzio, clinging to the Queen's
dress, begged piteously, 'Save my life, madam! Save my life for God's
dear sake!'
"But she could not. The assassins rushed upon him, overturning the
table with its lights and dishes. Queen Mary fainted, and Rizzio was
dragged out into a narrow passageway and stabbed again and again
until his shrieks were hushed in death. There is still a stain upon
Holyrood's floor said to have been caused by his blood."
"And what about Queen Mary? Did they hurt her, Cousin Ronald?" asked
Ned, much interested in the story.
"When she came out of her faint, poor lady! those lawless nobles,
wicked murderers, told her she was their prisoner, then set a guard at
her door, and left her to spend the night in anxiety, horror and fear."
"Oh, how wicked and cruel they were!" exclaimed Elsie Raymond. "I hope
they got punished for it somehow!"
"It looks as though Darnley did," said Mr. Lilburn, "for in a little
less than a year after the murder of Rizzio he, having gone with a few
friends to a private house, was in the night blown up with gunpowder;
and only about two months afterward Queen Mary married the Earl of
Bothwell. That disgusted her best subjects, so that they made her a
prisoner and forced her to abdicate in favor of her son, James VI.
"Queen Mary escaped from her prison, collected a large army, and fought
for the recovery of her crown and throne, but was defeated, then fled
to England. But Queen Elizabeth, though her cousin, was very jealous of
her, kept her imprisoned for many years, then had her beheaded."
"Had she any right to do that?" asked Elsie Dinsmore in indignant tones.
"No," replied Mr. Lilburn; "none but the might that is said to make
right. Queen Mary was in her power, with none to defend her. Queen
Mary, when on trial, said to her judges, 'I am a Queen, subject to
none but God. Him do I call to witness that I am innocent of all the
charges brought against me. And recollect, my lords, the theatre of the
world is wider than the realm of England.'"
"And did they kill her, Cousin Ronald?" asked Ned.
"Yes; they beheaded her in Fotheringay Castle. It is said that every
one was impressed by the melancholy sweetness of her face and the
remains of her rare beauty as she drew near the spot where her life was
to be ended. Her executioners knelt down and asked her forgiveness for
what they were about to do, and she replied, 'I forgive you and all
the world with all my heart.' Then turning to the women who attended
her, she said, 'Pray do not weep. Believe me, I am happy to leave the
world. Tell my son that I thought of him in my last moments, and that I
sincerely hope his life may be happier than mine.'
"Then there was a dreadful silence as she knelt down and laid her head
upon the block. In another minute the chief executioner held it up in
his hand, saying, 'So perish all the enemies of Queen Elizabeth.'"
"What a shame!" cried Ned. "I hope the time came when Queen Elizabeth
had to have her head chopped off."
"No," replied Mr. Lilburn; "but hers was not a happy death. She seems
to have been almost crazed with grief and remorse over the death of
Essex, threw herself on the floor, and lay there, refusing food and
medicine for several days and nights, till death came to end the
sorrowful scene."
"Then, perhaps, she suffered more than Queen Mary did in her dying
time, as I certainly think she deserved to," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Yes, I think she did," responded Mr. Lilburn; "it seems very possible
that her cruel, unjust treatment of her cousin, Queen Mary, may have
helped to burden her conscience and increase her remorse till she felt
that life was a burden too heavy to bear."
"Do you think she really wanted to die, and was courting death, Cousin
Ronald?" asked Grandma Elsie.
"Her refusal of food and medicine looks like it," he replied; "yet
one can hardly suppose that death would be anything but a terror to
one whose character was so far from Christian. Her public conduct was
worthy of the highest encomium, but not so with her private life. Yet I
wadna wish to sit in judgment on her at this late day."