CHAPTER VI.

SUMMARY.

Queen Margaret’s residence in Edinburgh Castle--Her dispute with

Magnus--Employs Sir James Hamilton in her divorce--Groselle’s

diplomacy touching her marrying Albany--Furious quarrel in

her presence with Harry Stuart--Her familiar discussions

with Angus on their own divorce--Opens Parliament as Queen

Regent--Affronted by Henry VIII.’s Letter--Her fit of

passionate weeping--Her influence over the young King--Her

strange plea of divorce--Her mysterious absence--Required

to carry on State affairs--Her son pleads her excuse--Her

march from the North--Encounters Angus and her son--Her

general deserts her--Her divorce pronounced in Scotland and

Ancona--Its illegality--Queen Margaret declares Harry Stuart her

husband--They are besieged in Edinburgh Castle--Queen surrenders

him--She sends to England for blood-hounds--Retires to Stirling

Castle--Leaves it desolate, and becomes a fugitive--Exchanges

with her son Stirling for Methven--Her partisans aid the King

in expelling Angus--Harry Stuart recognized by her son as her

husband, and made Lord Methven--Escape of her daughter--Queen

Margaret’s Letters on Angus’s exile--She goes to a Highland

festival--Presides at an archery contest--Holds her forest-court

at Ettrick--Her brother sends Lord W. Howard to announce his

marriage with Anne Boleyn--Queen Margaret’s diplomacy--Betrays

her son’s confidence--Is in disgrace with him--Complains of her

son and husband to Henry VIII.--Her anger at his sending her

daughter to the Tower--Her intent of divorcing Methven while her

son is in France--Talks of re-marrying Angus--Her son stops her

new divorce on his return--Her rage--Her letter on the birth

of Edward VI.--Her friendship with her son’s consort, Mary

of Lorraine--Margaret’s zeal for Catholicism--Sponsor to her

grandson--Fatal illness--Confession--Death--Burial, &c.

The domestic disasters which followed Queen Margaret’s retreat to

Edinburgh Castle were of a nature calculated to throw the imputation

of “ill luck”--that ominous Shibboleth of the populace--over the whole

tendency of her affairs. Such was the opinion of the lower classes,

by whom she had hitherto been supported for the sake of their future

protector, the royal minor, their sovereign. The ignorant, who never

trouble themselves with the connection of cause and effect, found that

the furious hurricane, which almost toppled down the stalwart old pile

on Margaret’s head, had a great deal to do with her imprisonment of

their prelates, and her forcible wresting of Great Seal, Privy Seal,

Signet and Quarter Seal, by the strong hand of armed mercenaries, from

those who had legally held them.

“The Queen, with the King, being at this time resident in Edinburgh

Castle, there was so great a wind one _Uphally_ (Epiphany?) day,

that the same blew down the whole _battling_ stones (battlements)

of David’s Tower, and raised fire in the Queen’s lodging within the

Castle, that the same was almost all burnt.”[388] The stormy wind,

which was assuredly no respecter of persons, whatsoever the dealers

of judgments might declare, “cast down the Bishop of Galloway’s house

upon him while he was saying divine service; yet his life was saved

by special grace, for the whilk he thankit God, and made a solemn

_wow_ he would no longer be ane courtier, and so left the Queen’s

court, and past home to his awn cure and see, where he remainit, acting

according to his vocation.”[389]

No historian has dwelt on the danger which threatened Scotland of

having Catherine de Medicis for a Queen. She being the daughter of the

Duke d’Urbino and Marie de Boulogne, niece and heiress of Albany’s

wife, the late Regent wished to secure her great riches for his young

sovereign, James V. Henry VIII. sought to counteract the offer to

the Scottish King of Catherine de Medicis and her enormous dower,

by earnestly tendering the hand of his daughter Mary to him. It is

probable that Queen Margaret’s remarkable coolness respecting this

marriage arose from some pre-knowledge of the manner in which her

brother meant to treat the mother of the Princess, his noble-minded

wife, Katharine of Aragon. Margaret was, as Magnus slyly notes,[390]

“very high-minded” concerning all the grand offers of marriage made

to her son. But the real fact was, she had previously entered into

a private agreement with Louisa of Savoy, when that Princess was

appointed Regent of France, whereby she had sold the marriage of the

young King James to her for her granddaughter, the little Magdalene of

France. On one occasion, however, she openly boasted of having received

a benefaction of thirty thousand crowns[391] from France, with which,

according to her nature, she bitterly taunted the English ambassador,

Magnus, saying, “It were long before I have so much from England.”

William Hetherington, one of her English officers in attendance behind

her chair, took a part in the colloquy by exclaiming that “Your Grace

should not speak so!”

“Oh,” replied Margaret, “I said as much or more yesterday to Magnus.”

The ambassador denied it; and declares that he made her confess “that,

were it not for the _love_ and dread which Scotland bore her

brother, Henry VIII., she would have long since been put from the rule

of her son, King James.”

“Of late was with me,” wrote Magnus, “Sir James Hamilton, a right

_proper_ gentleman, and one that hath the greatest rule with

the Earl of Arran. He demanded of me ‘Whether I supposed the King’s

Highness (Henry VIII.) could be content if there were a divorce between

the Queen’s Grace and the Earl of _Anguish_?’” Magnus, to this

delicate question, replied, “that he could make no answer excepting

this, that he had never heard his King, or the English Council, speak

of the matter.”[392]

The indefatigable Sir James Hamilton then convened a meeting between

the Earl of Lennox, and other confidants of Angus and the Queen, to

let them know “that, if her husband would aid her in procuring the

divorce, she would not oppose his assumption of political power, and

would permit a reconciliation between him and her prime-minister, the

Earl of Arran.” While Margaret carried on the divorce matter, she was,

at the same time, tantalizing the English ambassador by the attentions

she paid to Groselles (or Courcelles), a secretary of Albany, left by

him as captain of his fortress of Dunbar, and at the same time to take

care of the French interest, by acting as a sort of resident minister.

Groselles flattered her, renewing hopes that, if she were divorced, the

Duke of Albany, now a widower, meant to commence a suit for her hand.

The news was whispered to young Harry Stuart, or perhaps was vaunted

to him by Margaret herself. His anger led him to adopt the English

interest for a short time, the Queen having concealed that the real

business of the castellan of Dunbar was to promote the marriage of

either Catherine de Medicis or the infant daughter of Francis I. with

James V.

One day the Queen was ill, and remained in her chamber all day--or

rather she came not into the state-rooms, nor appeared before the

public; nevertheless her majesty had all her attendants round her.

Groselles was importunate for an audience, and was admitted to speak

with her. Instead of paying the delicate attentions which the royal

invalid expected as her due, he troubled her with much disagreeable

business; and happening to see some of her maids (his old acquaintances

in the days when his master, the Regent Albany, swayed the destinies

of Scotland), Groselles so far forgot the solemnity of etiquette as

to laugh and chatter very familiarly with the damsels. The Queen made

some indication of her displeasure, when Harry Stuart, glad of an

opportunity of raising strife between her and Groselles, stepped from

behind her chair, and proposed to him the agreeable choice of avoiding

the Queen’s chamber or being cast down stairs.[393]

The unfortunate Frenchman soon after paid a visit to the levee of

the King of Scotland. Magnus himself prevailed on James to order

his expulsion from the privy-chamber, on which occasion young Harry

Stuart was quite as active in forcing poor Groselles to make his exit.

Magnus strongly commended Harry Stuart’s conduct on the occasion to

Henry VIII. He owns, however, that some of the Scottish Lords showed

great indignation. As to Groselles, he loudly proclaimed the want of

courtesy at the Scottish receptions, and vowed “that he expected to be

assassinated by the over-officious ruffling lieutenant of the guards,

Harry Stuart.” Lord Cassilis,[394] lately the ambassador to England,

and entirely of the English party, endeavored to enlist his cousin as a

creature of Henry VIII. Magnus wrote--

“Since the coming home of my Lord of Cassilis (Jan. 8), his

Lordship hath spoken with Harry Stuart in sundry cases for his

own and the Queen’s honor, wherein my Lord saith the said Harry,

his kinsman, hath done much good in these French matters. The

Queen keeping her chamber, Groselles, upon importune suit, came

unto her Grace and troubled her with much matter, wherewith her

Grace was not content.”

Then follows another version of the throwing-down-stairs adventure, of

which Radclyffe had given previously a more racy account.

The months of February and part of March were passed by the Queen

at Edinburgh Castle, “holding herself warily, and keeping guard lest

her young son should be taken from her by the confederate Lords.” The

childish despotism of Margaret had put her at issue with the clergy

and government of the country: of course the chancellor and all the

great officers of state were indignant at her interference with their

functions, when, with her ignorant tyranny, she deprived them of

their seals and insignia. Her Majesty now executed all state affairs

lawlessly by the aid of her lieutenant of the guards. Long-suffering

and loyal as the people at large were, in consideration of their

youthful King, the conduct of the Queen-mother, they were forced to

own, was not only noxious but ridiculous.

The divorce from Angus was the point she was laboring with headstrong

energy. Once more she offered to give up her dower lands, to the

value of 1000 merks per annum, and withal carried on the negotiation

with Angus in person, using the utmost familiarity in discussing the

divorce, and now and then affecting, in private, much friendship and

kindness to him, just for the purpose of deceiving Magnus, who lectured

her incessantly on her want of godliness in her projected divorce.

Angus, meantime, had contrived to obliterate, or put out of her reach,

all proofs of his subsequent private marriage with Lady Janet Stuart.

It was that event which had incensed Margaret at first against her

spouse.

At last Queen Margaret sent her steward, a priest whose sanctity was

approved by Magnus, to treat with Angus; and after many messages, she

condescended to come down from her stronghold of Edinburgh Castle to

Holyrood and open Parliament, consenting that Angus and his faction

might appear in their places. As Regent for her son, they agreed that

Queen Margaret was to exercise all sovereign power: on the other hand,

it was stipulated, by written treaty, to the following effect--

“Item, the Earl of Anguish sal bind him to the King’s Grace

(James V.) under pain of the crym of lese-majesty, not to

intromit (intermeddle) with the Queen’s Grace’s person, lands,

and goods, even gif he is her husband, until Whitsontide

next.”[395]

By that time Margaret hoped that her divorce would be accomplished.[396]

When the treaty was concluded, Queen Margaret and the young King came

in state, royally robed, from Edinburgh Castle, the Earl of Angus

carrying the crown before them, and the Earl of Arran the scepter. They

opened the Parliament, the Queen behaving with all gracious familiarity

to her spouse,[397] as stipulated, and her favorites and ministers

following her example. It was noticed, that when Queen Margaret opened

Parliament, Harry Stuart attended her for three days most assiduously.

The displeasure of the Lords of the Council, however, made him “avoid

privily” (retire privately), and he went off to the Queen’s fortress,

Stirling Castle, where he and his two brothers waited her orders.[398]

On a great alarm among the citizens of Edinburgh, that their young

King was about to be carried off from Holyrood the night he came down

from the castle, the Queen took him and resolved to stay with him in

the very heart of the city, where they remained until they went a

progress toward Perth, and finally took their abode at their palace of

St. Johnstoun. Thither the English ambassador followed her, for the

purpose of delivering to her letters from her brother Henry VIII. Of

the reception of these he gives the following account:

“I required of the Queen’s Grace that I might speak with her apart; and

so I did, in a privy-chamber. All folks avoided (retired) but only her

Grace and myself; and thus I delivered her my King’s most honorable

letters, which her Grace received in full honorable manner.[399] But

after her Grace had looked over or read the first five or six lines of

the same, her countenance altered in such manner that it was a full

hour before her Grace could sober herself from excessive weeping; and

long it was, and with much pain, ere that her Grace could read the

letter to the end. Some words were between us; but howsoever I armed me

with patience, though some deal cumbered to answer her.”

Margaret’s first comment when her passion of crying let her speak, was

“Sure never was such a letter ever written to any noble woman.”

Magnus recommended patience, and to read Henry VIII.’s letter over more

dispassionately, and to bring to mind her own aggravating epistle which

had provoked it. But the Queen, with many “haught and high words,

expressed herself much against her brother’s honor, cried out on his

wrong in sending the Earl of Anguish to torment her, regretted her own

conduct for being too easy in regard to the said earl, and finally,

declared she would send none ambassadors to England.”

Then the angry, sobbing Queen forbade Magnus to bring any more such

letters from her brother for her to read; “for, if she did read any

more, she was right sure it would be her death;” and long she raged at

the patient man, accusing him of knowing the tenor of the letter, and

of causing her vexation--“as there were matters mentioned, of which the

information must have proceeded from him.”

The English ambassador left Queen Margaret with the promise that

she should be urged no longer concerning her husband until after

Whitsuntide, when she expected decision from Rome on her divorce. He

went to the opposite party, and consulted with Angus, whose chief

desire was, that an end might be put to the restriction Henry VIII. had

laid upon him, not to seize upon any part of Queen Margaret’s dower

lands, from which he had, since his return to Scotland, unwillingly

abstained--avarice rather than ambition being his leading passion. He,

with the lords of his party, discussed the character and conduct of the

boy King. Some were afraid James V. would prove cruel; for, said they,

“When Queen Margaret is angry with any of us, then she talks to her son

privily, and makes him sad and pensive, and to look down, and gloom and

glower upon us, using to us some sour and sharp words.”[400] The young

King was devotedly attached to his mother, and was inclined to defy

and hate her enemies, and to protect her, when she had been exciting

him with tales of her wrongs. The Earl of Angus told Magnus, “That his

young King was right well pleased with him in all matters relating to

hawks and hounds; but of late the Queen had urged her son to view the

matter of divorce as she wished;” that King James had earnestly asked

him, when alone, “to be divorced from his mother, and had promised him

boundless favor, when he came to his power, if he would consent.”

Strange it was, that such a subject should be discussed by either

Margaret or her husband to a boy not fourteen. While these proceedings

were grieving the sensitive feelings of national honor, ever prevalent

among the people of Scotland, their honest pride was somewhat soothed

by the noble fidelity their late Regent showed to Francis I. “Here hath

been rumors and bruits, that the Duke of Albany had won and rescued

again the French King being right joyous tidings here, and as painful

to me, to see and hear the same.”[401] Angus was sedulous in impressing

on his royal brother-in-law of England an amiable description of his

conduct toward his refractory spouse, Queen Margaret. “I have,” he

says,[402] “please your Highness, shown humble suit and service to

the Queen’s Grace, your sister; howbeit, it is not accepted, but she

remains at Stirling away from her son, the King’s Grace (James V.), and

is ruled against me with ane evil counsel, against the law of God and

holy kirk; as God knows, I have kept my part toward her, as I promised

your Grace, and to my Lord Cardinal, and aye abode at his and your

commandment therein, and so shall continue.”

It is certain that if Queen Margaret could have proved the charge

of previous marriage or pre-contract against her husband, she would

not have had recourse to a pretext futile as that which, after great

research, Dr. Magnus discovered was her plea for divorce at Rome. “The

Queen’s Grace,” wrote he,[403] “continueth still at Stirling, and sueth

fast for a divorce from the Earl of Angus, submitting her cause to be,

that when she was married to the said earl, the late King of Scots, her

husband, was alive; and that the said King was living three years after

the field of Flodden or Brankston.” Notwithstanding this discovery,

made by Queen Margaret, of the existence of the first husband, for the

purpose of getting rid of the second, Dr. Magnus remained earnestly of

opinion that the rights of the Earl of Angus should be recognized by

his perverse helpmate. The character, indeed, that the learned Doctor

is pleased to give the Queen’s repudiated husband for gentleness and

submission, makes it doubtful matter if she could ever have changed

for the better. “After my poor mind, and as I hear her Grace will say

that ‘she dare not come hither (to Edinburgh), for dread that her Grace

hath of the Earl of Anguish,’ whom, if it would please her Grace to

accept into her favor, she _mought_, without doubt, better order

for his gentleness than I can rule any servant I have.”[404] Angus was

in fact, at the very time, paramount and pre-eminent over the Scotch

Parliament, then about to conclude its session. He was endeavoring to

entice his contumacious spouse into his presence, by insisting that the

peace between England and Scotland could not be concluded without her

assistance. His party declared that “if she would not come, she must be

deprived of her authority, which was to be first and principal of the

council, and have the disposal of all benefices; that she had had all

reasonable safe-conducts given, and if she would not attend, she must

forfeit her dignities.”

The young King of Scotland, when this resolution was being passed

into an act, spoke on the subject, to the admiration of all present.

“I trust,” said the royal boy, “that the Queen, my mother, hath not

so highly offended, that her Grace should lose, or be put from her

authority;” therefore, he required “that the act might be respited, or

put in some better train.” It was then resolved, that “if the Queen,

within twenty days, repaired to the King her son, and follows the

advice of the Council, and confirms the peace, the act against her

shall be of none effect--otherwise to stand in full strength.”

Margaret’s plea was, as usual, fear of being in the presence of Angus;

but it was generally whispered, “that the Queen was forced to retire

awhile, on account of the birth of her first child, by Harry Stuart,

with whom she had made secret marriage.” Before the month expired, the

Parliament deprived the Queen of her authority, for not coming to open

it; but, by the young King’s personal entreaty, “another twenty days’

grace were allowed her to come in.” Many evil reports were afloat,

concerning her absence. Magnus again affirmed, “that as to being

afraid of Angus, it was well known she might rule him as her servant,

if she would be kind to him.”[405] All business was perplexed. Magnus

wrote an urgent letter to her. He told her “he had consulted a most

worshipful gentlewoman, late _mistress_ (governess) to the young

King, and a fast friend of her (Queen Margaret), who declared her

conviction, that coming to the Parliament at Edinburgh would neither

bring the Queen-mother into difficulty or danger.” The young King,

however, Magnus owns, thought differently; by which he guessed that

her absence was concerted with her son. Margaret remained in the north

of Scotland, deaf to all summons from Parliament, husband, brother, or

son. The next news regarding her was that, January 11, 1525–6, she was

marching southward with a small force of six hundred men, commanded by

the Earl of Murray, and was expected to do a great deal of mischief to

her opponents.[406] The approach of Margaret and her army took place

January 20. She trusted that the Earl of Arran, who had previously

withdrawn himself from Angus’s government, would have joined her with

force sufficient to have taken the young King away from the Douglas

faction. But her hated husband, instead of Arran, met her a mile from

Linlithgow, accompanied by James the young King, and an overpowering

army. Margaret’s general, the Earl of Murray, instantly went over to

the force which ostensibly bore his King’s authority; while his men,

taking their cue from their lord, fraternized with Angus’s troopers.

The lords and gentlemen of Margaret’s party offered their services to

Angus, and they all marched merrily to Edinburgh. “As for the Queen’s

Grace,” wrote Angus to Dr. Magnus, “thare sal be na falt funden in

me, but we sal agree shortly, as understands the King’s highness her

son; all my lords here, and you that kens her part and mine as well

as our sel.”[407] The rage of Margaret may be supposed at the turn of

affairs quietly effected by her spouse, when she had been six months

in the north, fomenting a revolution which was to destroy his power.

Her letters to Wolsey, after this historical _coup-de-théatre_ had

been played against her, by the cool cunning of her husband, are for

some months very dry and mysterious--their chief tenor being murmuring

at Angus’s power, and urging that, by the help of the Archbishop of St.

Andrews, she might have more authority over her son and his government.

When Queen Margaret wrote in great hurry, her orthography renders her

letters more difficult to edit, than if written in a foreign language.

At no time are her original lucubrations more uncouth than at this era.

If these lines were suddenly placed before any one, there would be some

difficulty in ascertaining which among the tongues of Babel the writer

was inditing--

“_Gyff ve fynd the sayd Byschope of Saynt Tandroz be ony vay to be

trw tyll owz, ve had lever hav hym, bot as zet I can not parsaff it.

Ther for, vee man doo as ve fynd beast for owz, trostyng that the

Kyng’s Grace, my brethar, vyl suple owz, and not lat owz vant._”[408]

By the elegant pronoun “_owz_,” Queen Margaret means “us;” and her

hieroglyphics, as usual, include a bitter complaint of her husband, and

an intimation that a subsidy would be acceptable to herself.

The Queen, the Earl of Lennox, and the Bishop of St. Andrews, secretly

aided by the young King himself, commenced a struggle to overcome

Angus. Although her prime-minister Arran, out of jealousy of his

relative, the Earl of Lennox,[409] deserted to the side of Angus, the

party increased every day. Lennox, in the last days of August, came

to the Borough Moor, near Edinburgh, with two hundred picked men, and

a few horsemen leading eight spare horses, upon which the young King

and his train were to escape. The Master of Kilmorris entered Holyrood

to inform the King. Angus learned his arrival. Before Kilmorris

could be seized, young King James led him personally “through the

coining-house,” and thus he got safely out of Holyrood. Angus forced

the King to leave Holyrood, and put him under the guard of his brother

George and forty men, at a house of the Bishop of St. Andrews, in the

city, where he was watched night and day.[410] About a week afterward

the belligerent powers came to collision: the King expressed a wish

to visit his mother at her palace of Linlithgow, and the Douglas

put a little army in motion to guard him on his short journey. Near

Linlithgow, at the bridge, they encountered the Earl of Lennox and

many other nobles of the Queen’s party, among whom were Harry Stuart

and his two brothers. A fierce skirmish ensued. When the young King,

who was kept back with the rearguard, manifested eagerness to ride

forward into the fray, George Douglas, in whose charge he was left,

thus addressed him, “Bide where you are, sir; for if they get hold of

you, be it by one of your arms, we will seize a leg and pull you in

two pieces rather than part from you.”[411] A savage speech which the

young monarch never forgot. The result of the skirmish was disastrous

to Queen Margaret’s faction: the Earl of Lennox, her most respectable

partisan, and the kinsman best beloved by James V., was treacherously

slain by that promoter of all mischief, Sir James Hamilton.

Although full of sorrow, the Queen mounted her palfrey, and set out for

Edinburgh, November 20, to open Parliament. The Earl of Angus leading

the young King with him, met his contumacious spouse at Corstorphine:

here he received her with the affectation of the utmost deference. Her

train was small, and her attendance mean, for most of her friends were

absent--some having been slain at the “battle of the bridge,” near

Linlithgow, some being fugitives, and others prisoners to her husband.

Harry Stuart was wounded; his brothers were reported slain. She rode by

the side of her son to Holyrood, where she was inducted into the same

apartments formerly occupied by the Duke of Albany when Regent. The

young King lodged with her, and slept in a room over her bedchamber;

excepting when he was hunting, he would never leave her company for a

moment. “It is thought,” wrote Sir C. Dacre to his brother, “that if

the Queen remains thus near her son, that the whole court will have a

turn; for King James, since the death of the Earl of Lennox, has no

affection for the Earl of Angus nor him of Arran.”[412]

The New Year’s Day of 1526–7 was certainly kept by the royal mother

and son at Holyrood. Evidence exists of that very rare occurrence,

a largess from the hand of the Queen. A cotemporary poet, Stuart of

Lorne, one of her court versifiers, celebrates her bounty by a lay of

gratitude so barbarous in its wording, that it is not easy to give an

idea of more than two of its lines:--

“Great God reward Margaret our Queen

For largess of this New Year’s Day!”[413]

Both Margaret and the King remained ill at ease--James V. in deep

grief for the death of his beloved kinsman, the Earl of Lennox, slain

in the endeavor to take him from the hated control of the Douglas.

Margaret, meantime, was meditating other enterprises. Among her plans

she intended to use blood-hounds for the means of either attack or

defense, making the odd request for a pair of these creatures trained

to sit behind men on horseback. It was addressed to her old friend

Magnus, then tutor to the young Duke of Richmond, in his magnificent

establishment of Sheriffe Hutton, Yorkshire.

“QUEEN MARGARET TO DR. MAGNUS.

“Right trusty and well-beloved Friend--We commend us to you in

our most hearty manner, praying you right affectuously that you

will get and send us three or four brace of the best ratches

(harriers) in the country, less or more, for hares, foxes, and

other greater beasts. With a brace of blood-hounds that are

good, and will ride behind men on horseback.”[414]

Her note was written January 8, 1526–7, Dr. Magnus treated the Queen’s

letter and message to Sheriffe Hutton as a mere pretense to spy out

the particulars of young Richmond’s almost regal establishment there.

Wolsey ordered Magnus to send the dogs; but that was not done until

the succeeding year, when the fortunes of the royal family of Scotland

obtained the ascendency in the struggle that ensued.

Margaret’s present object was to arrive at some decision concerning

her divorce; for this purpose she affected to be on very friendly

terms with Angus, and even had some amicable consultations[415] with

him on the subject. Finding the delays of Rome interminable, she

contrived to enlist Beton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, on her side, who

summoned Angus to hear his divorce from the Queen pronounced according

to the laws of the Church. He appeared on the day appointed at the

Consistorial Court of St. Andrews, Then the Queen alledged “that he

had been betrothed, and given his faith and promise of marriage to a

noble lady (some say a daughter of the Earl of Traquair, and others

of Earl Bothwell) before he had married her (the Queen), and so by

reason of that pre-contract he could not be her lawful husband.” The

earl confessed all. Upon which the archbishop pronounced sentence of

divorce, making a proviso, “that the daughter born of the Queen should

not suffer loss or disadvantage”[416] from the ignorance of her mother

of the father’s pre-engagement.

The legality of this sentence was immediately disputed; the flaw

appears to have been the uncertainty which of the two noble ladies,

Janet Douglas or Margaret Hepburn, was Angus’s _fiancée_ when he

wedded the Queen. There is nothing definite, therefore, alledged in any

of the sentences of divorce. Another passed later in the course of the

same year, dated at Ancona, in which the Pope mentions the marriage

as infirm and bad, but gives no specific reason why it was so.[417]

Previously, however, to the Papal decision, we find that Turenne, the

French ambassador at the Court of London, writes a most remarkable

letter to the Regent Albany, dated May 1, 1527, in which he gives the

following details of a conversation that passed between him and Henry

VIII., on the subject of Queen Margaret’s desire of going to France to

prosecute her divorce:--

“On Sunday,” says he, “the King of England sent for me; and

after putting several questions, he demanded of me and my

associates, ‘if we had informed the King his brother of what he

told us through the Cardinal (Wolsey), touching his sister the

Queen of Scotland, for that he understood she was meditating a

journey to France, to endeavor to induce our King to use his

influence with our Holy Father to get her divorced from Monsieur

_d’Angou_ (the Earl of Angus), in order to marry you.’ He

told me it was most displeasing to him to learn the foolish

and evil conduct of his said sister, for she made herself a

shame and disgrace to all her family; declaring ‘that it was

impossible for any one to lead a more shameful life than she

did.’”[418]

The envoy replied that he was sure his King was the last person in the

world to encourage so near a relation to the King of England in coming

into his realm, against the will of her royal brother; and that the

Duke of Albany was the last person to do any thing that was unpleasant

to him. Henry then admitted that Albany was a wise and good Prince;

adding, however, “that he thought his nephew was old enough to govern

without further tutelage; but certainly, of all tutelage, that of the

Queen his sister was the worst that young Prince could have.”

Previously to the papal sentence of divorce, Margaret had endeavored

to act on that of the Archbishop; “and when she visited her son, who

was at that time completely in the power of Angus, she asked him leave

to let Harry Stuart come to his court and remain with him.” The young

King flatly refused, and Queen Margaret departed out of humor with her

son, and apparently out of favor with him.[419] James V. was certainly

highly displeased at the idea of the second step-father with which

his Queen-mother had provided him: he had more than enough trouble

with the first, who at that time held him virtually a captive, after

having slain his best loved kinsman. Neither was it very probable that

Angus, who ruled every thing at court, could permit Harry Stuart,

his rival, to appear there as Queen Margaret’s acknowledged lord. On

her next visit to her son, April, 1527, she required license for her

new husband’s appearance there, which James totally refused, at the

instance of Lord Angus, upon which the Queen again retired from court

in disgust to Stirling Castle.[420]

It is surprising how little notice general history takes of Queen

Margaret’s proceedings in the north of the island in that momentous

year in which the divorce of Katharine of Aragon was first agitated.

So far from pleading the excuse of his sister’s long-pending divorce,

Henry was heartily ashamed of the false position in which he exhibited

himself in the eyes of the courts of Europe, as if he aped Margaret’s

disreputable proceedings. It is curious enough to find him urging

Wolsey perpetually to delay his sister’s divorce at the Court of Rome,

which was done with such success that, of course, he became furiously

suspicious that similar means were used when his own turn came.[421]

There is a letter from Margaret to Albany, dated March 23, 1528, in

which she thanks him in the warmest terms, not only for having used his

influence at Rome in furthering her affair, as she styles the sentence

of divorce from Angus, but for furnishing her with the money necessary

to obtain the completion of that business;[422] “for which services,”

she says--

“I give you a hundred thousand thanks, and trust the time will

one day come when I may return the pleasure you have done

me, and praying you, Monsieur my cousin, as the person I have

more affiance in than any other man in the world, except my

dearest son, both for the love of me, and to put an end of

all the torments and tribulations I suffer, and for the happy

advancement of all the other matters between you and me, that

you will be pleased to expedite the completion of my sentence,

and the process; to send to me into Scotland as quickly as

possible, and to supply me with the money that will be needful

and requisite, till God is pleased to grant me of his grace

the means of recompensing you for the said moneys, and all the

gratuities and benefactions you have aided me with in times

past.”

She goes on to say--

“I am informed to-day by your servant and secretary, Nicholas

Canyvet, that a captain named William Stuart, with another

gentleman, have been sent by you to my son with all sorts of

horses, and other beautiful presents, which I can assure you

will be very agreeable to him; and I should have written to

you for things of that kind a long time ago, if I had not been

hindered as I have told you in my last letters, and forasmuch

as I hoped to get a full answer to my last letters by the said

captain, both from the King of France and yourself. The said

news (about the divorce) are to me very joyous: all the letters

that you may be pleased to send me, can be kept in charge by

your secretary, the Dean of Dunbar, or by some other equal sure

and secret channel, on the subject that you have written to me

in your last letters. As to any other news, I must refer you to

your servant Nicholas, desiring above all things to have my said

sentence and process. Written at _Striming_ (Stirling),

this 23d day of March, by

“Your good cousin,

“MARGARET.”

Postscript in the Queen’s own hand--

“Monsieur my cousin, I beg you to excuse the whole letter not

being written by my own hand; but have me and my business in

your remembrance. I remain, to the utmost of my power,

“Your good cousin,

“MARGARITE.”[423]

In the seal to this letter, Margaret impales the royal arms of

Scotland with those of England. Margaret, on the promulgation of the

above-mentioned Ancona divorce, being then at Stirling Castle, publicly

declared herself married to Harry Stuart, and had him treated as her

lord and husband by her whole household; on which intelligence the

young King, in great displeasure, sent Lord Erskine with a troop of

soldiers to besiege Stirling. Margaret immediately surrendered her

husband, who was forthwith marched away captive, and put into prison.

He soon escaped from his captivity; and the next appearance of this

gentleman is in Edinburgh Castle, the Queen having again retreated to

that impregnable fortress, which was still garrisoned in her name as

Queen Regent; and from thence she defied her first husband, and all his

doings.

Angus considered it requisite to reduce her pride, for, in the

course of the preceding year, he had found many symptoms of his own

unpopularity. Every one in Scotland was looking forward to the majority

of their young sovereign, who had now entered his seventeenth year.

Although James V.’s moral character had been systematically impaired

by the policy of Angus, and the base agency of Sir James Hamilton,

yet great ability, and a latent principle of rectitude, were known to

be inherent in the royal youth. He had been for some months separated

from his mother, and his first interview with her was a strange

scene, but such as she had played more than once in the course of her

tumultuous career at the far-famed castled rock of Edinburgh. Angus

marched there with a large force, and brought the young King along

with him; and in his name, March 27, 1528, summoned Queen Margaret to

surrender Edinburgh Castle and her pretended husband, Harry Stuart of

Evandale, to the King’s mercy. As soon as the Queen saw that her son

was actually present, she came down from Edinburgh Castle in great

haste, accompanied by Harry, and his brother James Stuart. Falling

on her knees before her son, Angus standing by, she humbly asked

mercy “for her husband and his brother.”[424] They were, however,

notwithstanding all her humiliations, led away as prisoners into the

very castle she had just yielded. As for herself, she was treated by

Angus with the grimace of great respect. The King her son rode by her

steed in the pacific entry she made into Edinburgh--the leading power

in the scene being her former husband, with whom she had afterward

many private conferences and consultations.[425] Yet all the civil

deceitfulness of Angus could not disguise from Queen Margaret the plots

and plans he was devising against her income and liberty. Soon after

her surrender of Edinburgh Castle, she retired to her usual residence,

Stirling Castle, but when there she received mysterious intimation from

Archbishop Beton that she was not safe. She fled in disguise from it,

dispersed her household, and, for the first time, Stirling Castle was

left desolate, without garrison or inmates--as it is at present, the

wisdom of which piece of state economy no historian who deals in facts

can greatly commend.

What became of Margaret can only be guessed in the few vague words of

Lindsay’s Chronicle.[426] “The Douglases,” he says, “ever took high

upon them, and now they specially frighted Bishop Beton, so that he

fled away and durst not be seen; and so did Margaret the Queen of

Scotland, who gaed vagrant, disguised ane long time for fear of the

Douglas faction. They took the King to St. Andrews, and, in his name,

caused great search to be made for them. As for the Bishop, it was

known afterward that he kept sheep in Boigremoir with ane shepherd’s

clothes upon him.”

It is a grief to her biographer that Margaret’s disguise and

occupations, when she “gaed vagrant,” can not be described with equal

accuracy. But that close delineator, Dr. Magnus, at this time ceased

to witness the scenes of her varied life. Dacre was dead; and Norfolk,

that other state-paper chronicler, is too busy raising his niece to the

throne-matrimonial of England, and shaking the long-established sway

of the mighty Cardinal Wolsey, to have a thought to spare for Queen

Margaret vagabonding in the wilderness. Whether she, as well as her

ally Beton, kept sheep in the mosses and moors can not be asserted.

One thing, however, is certain, her pen was forced to rest idle for a

while. In truth, she is best to be traced in the plots that began to

herald the coming revolution, which overthrew the power of Angus.

The worst feature of the Douglas domination was the murder of the

proto-martyr of the Reformed Church of Scotland, the mild Patrick

Hamilton, Abbot of Fern, who was burned at St. Andrews in 1527, being

a victim to an agreement of reconciliation which took place between

the usurpers and Archbishop Beton. Other horrid persecutions followed

of the same nature, which formed precedents for continuation. The

commencement of this bad work, it is but just to observe, occurred

when James V. was a prisoner to Angus, and his mother a fugitive.

The royal stripling now fast advanced to a period of life when his high

spirit and princely courage could no longer be controlled. His mother’s

servants, emboldened by his approach to manhood, crept out of their

lurking-places, and, by degrees, brought military stores and provisions

into her palace of Stirling Castle, till about May-day, 1528, it was

found to be thoroughly garrisoned.[427] James V., being then in the

course of his seventeenth year, resolved to deliver himself and his

people from the Douglas yoke: he saw the advantage of having such a

fortress as Stirling for his retreat when his project for a struggle

with his first step-father, Angus, was ripe. However, he was forced to

compromise with his mother’s passions and predilections; she had longed

for the lordship of Methven wherewith to endow her favorite Harry

Stuart, who had escaped to her, and was very active in arranging the

approaching struggle for the King.

James V., being at Falkland Palace, contrived to negotiate with his

mother the exchange of the Castle of Stirling, on which she still held

claim during his minority, for his castle and demesne of Methven.[428]

When the agreement was completed between the mother and son, young

James rode over one night from Falkland to Stirling with a few of

his most confidential servants,[429]--was admitted by the Queen’s

garrison,--barred out all that were out, raised the regal standard over

the lofty citadel, and issued his royal summonses for all his loyal

lieges to attend him at Stirling--the faction of the Douglases being

excepted as traitors. From that moment the young sovereign was free.

Methven was an ancient possession of the Kings of Scotland, and had

been the dower-castle and demesne of the Princess Margery Bruce

(daughter to the Great King Robert), who finally brought the crown

of Scotland into the family of her husband, Walter Stuart. Methven

is situated to the north of the Ochil Hills, and to the south of the

Grampians, in the county of Perth, and is distant six miles from the

town of Perth.[430] James V. kept faith with his mother, and in the

year 1528, separated Methven forever from the crown of Scotland, and

settled it on her husband, whom he raised to the peerage by the title

of Lord Methven, with entail on his heirs-male. Margaret, who became

in time the mother of a son and daughter by Harry Stuart, took up her

residence at Methven Castle, which may henceforth be considered her

home when she did not occupy her suite of apartments at Holyrood or

Stirling.

She had now obtained the end for which she had anxiously striven for

more than eight years. Her son had acknowledged her divorce, by his

recognition and favor to her dear Harry Stuart, who was, from a younger

brother and needy courtier, raised to high rank, with the fairest

barony in Scotland for his inheritance, and that of their children.

Her inimical husband, Angus, was soon afterward chased out of the land

into exile in England. Angus had impoverished the Queen by seizing,

as her husband, the lands with which she had been richly endowed by

the crown of Scotland on her marriage with James IV. It may be freely

inferred that he was forced to yield up this prey, for on his flight to

Henry VIII. the young King took possession of his vast property, and

divided it among those who had aided in the overthrow of the Douglas

power. It was not likely that the King forgot to restore his mother

to her dower lands. But Henry VIII. treated his sister’s divorce from

Angus with the utmost contempt, reviled her new spouse, speaking of

him disdainfully as “Lord Muffin,”[431] while he called Angus his dear

brother-in-law. Margaret was, however, relieved of the presence of her

troublesome spouse for life: she was full of fondness and gratitude

to Lord Methven for the assistance he had rendered her son, whom she

persuaded to settle on him for life the castellanship of her dower

castle of Doune, in the county of Perth. James V. likewise made his new

step-father general of all his artillery--regarding him with constant

favor, which he well deserved by his fidelity. Soon after Lord Methven

obtained leave of his sovereign to relinquish Doune Castle in favor of

his landless brother, James Stuart, who had served the King faithfully,

and even been left for dead at the battle near Linlithgow, James V.,

with all the generosity of his nature, alienated Doune from the crown,

and settled it on Methven’s brother, to the rage and indignation of

Queen Margaret, who did not mean to lose the income when she settled

it on her new spouse. It was a first quarrel between her and her dear

Harry Stuart; but the offense remained brooding in her mind until it

broke out, long years afterward, according to the malicious nature of

the Tudor race.

“All the time the Court was in Edinburgh, a nightly watch was kept

about the King’s chamber, and even round his bed, by his lords and the

Sheriff of Ayr. One night the King kept watch himself in array (armor),

expecting an inbreak of the Earl of Angus and his party. Upon Tuesday

last,” continues our authority, “the Queen, with the young King,

removed to Stirling for greater security.”[432]

Angus thought fit to suppose that his daughter by the Queen was

included in the proscription of all who bore his name, and when the

young King marched to besiege Tantallan, the Earl fled from thence

with her. Queen Margaret and James V., knowing that she was wandering

from castle to castle on the English border, made sedulous exertions

to recover her from her father, that she might be placed in the royal

establishment; but without effect. The incidents of this lady’s

eventful life and fortunes form the subject of a distinct biography.

Angus and his brother, George Douglas, finally retired with her to

the English court. Before, however, the Douglases were admitted into

England, they had to swear fealty to Henry VIII. as sovereign-paramount

of Scotland.[433] That monarch, in return, gave the Douglas brothers

seats at his privy-council, where, for many years, they continued to

do as much injury to their native land as possible. Magnus, the fast

friend of Angus, wrote to Margaret under the pretense of sending her

“the loving commendations of his master, her right dear and tender

nephew the Duke of Richmond and Somerset,” resident at Sheriffe Hutton,

in Yorkshire (once the doleful prison-fortress of Margaret’s mother

in the days of Richard III.). Richmond had lately sent to his cousin,

the King of Scotland, the _ratches_, fox-hounds, and harriers she

had asked for, likewise those accomplished animals “the blood-hounds,

trained to ride behind men-at-arms on horseback,” whether on pillions

like ladies is a question left to the decision of our learned friends

the antiquaries.

“The dear and tender nephew” must have been a subject of great jealousy

to Margaret, because his royal titles and great establishment plainly

showed that, in case of failure of legitimate children, Henry VIII.

meant to appoint him as his successor. The boy, however, was made by

Dr. Magnus to plead, as by messages throughout a long letter penned

by the latter in his name, “that his aunt, the Queen of Scots, would

please to relent, and not utterly ruin a great noble of ancient blood

like the Earl of Angus.” Margaret, who had returned to Edinburgh, wrote

in answer, acknowledging the kindness of “the dear and tender nephew,”

but explained[434]--

“How much she marveled that the King his father, and himself,

had such great regard for the Lord Angus, when we that _is_

his _natural_ sister sustain such great dolor and wrong.

_Ve_ greatly marvel, considering his offenses made to us,

he (Angus) has not applied him to give us good cause to continue

gude princess to him, which had been his high honor and special

duty, having remembrance of the great honor we did until him.”

The Queen then addressed a long family explanation to her nephew,

Richmond, declaring the injuries done her by Angus, especially in

tearing her “only daughter _attouce_ (at twice) from her, who

would not have been disinherited had she remained to her comfort.”

Margaret makes a distinct paragraph to “her gude and right trast

friend, Master Magnus,” assuring him that she bears no rancor to the

said Earl of Angus; and as a proof that she wished him well, she

advised him to keep safely in England out of the way of the King her

son, and then in time he may recover his favor.

During the disturbances that had distracted Scotland while Margaret

had been struggling for the regnant power with Albany and Angus,

few notations exist of entertainments or fêtes. But as soon as the

young King was invested with his premature authority, affairs took

a different aspect. The most noted of the court fêtes was a grand

Highland hunting given by Queen Margaret’s old friend, the Earl of

Atholl, to her Majesty, in honor of the arrival of the Pope’s envoy at

the court of Scotland. At Atholl the Earl received the Queen-mother,

King James V., and the Pope’s envoy, in the forest, with a degree of

splendor that, as the young monarch declared, left him nothing to

regret at Edinburgh Castle. “Atholl had prepared for the Queen and her

son fair a palace, built in the midst of a green meadow; the structure

was made of fresh boughs, neatly wattled with birks, which were green

under and above.” This palace was divided in four quarters, and in

each quarter a circular room like a block-house, “which was _lofted_

the height of three houses; the floors were laid with green _scarets_,

_spreats_, _medworts_, and flowers, that no man knew whereon he trod,

but as if he were in a garden. The palace within was hung with fine

tapestry and arras, and lighted with fine glass windows at all airths,

and it was as pleasantly decorated as if it had been the palace-royal

at home.”

“Further, this Earl gart make such provisions for the King and his

mother Queen Margaret, and the ambassador, that they had all manner of

meats, drinks, and delicates, that were to be gotten at that time in

Scotland, either in burgh or land--that is to say, all kind of drink,

as ale, beer, wine, both white and claret, malmsey, muscadil, ypocras,

aquavitæ. Further, there was of meats, wheat bread, maise bread, and

_gingerbread_; with fleshes, beef, muttons, lambs, venison, goose,

grice (pig), capon, coney, crane, swan, partridge, plover, duck,

drake, _bussel-cock_ and _pawnes_ (blackcock and moorfowl),

and also the stanks (tanks or ponds) round about the palace were full

of all delicate fishes, as salmons, trouts, eels, and all that could

be gotten out of fresh water, all ready for the banquet. _Syne_

there were proper stewards, cunning baxters (bakers), excellent cooks

and potingers, with confections and _drugs_ for the King and the

Queen’s desserts. And the halls and chambers were prepared with costly

beds, naperies, and vessels, according for a Queen; so that Queen

Margaret wanted of her orders no more than when at home in her palace.

The King and his royal mother abode in that wilderness at the hunting

three days and nights, there being no town nearer than twenty miles

on each side of them.” Among their bills of fare appears the item of

“roasted termagants;” but this alarming dish is supposed merely to

imply roasted ptarmigans. The Earl of Atholl expended one thousand

pounds[435] per day on this regal _fête_ in the solitudes of the

Highlands. It is to be hoped that they were pounds Scots.

As Queen Margaret and her son paused on their homeward journey, to

cast a last look at their flowery palace in the wilderness, flames were

seen to enwrap it of a sudden. The Pope’s envoy could not suppress

an exclamation of surprise and regret. “It is the custom of our

Highland-men,” replied the young King. “Be they never so well lodged at

night, they burn their lodging the next morn.” The Queen and her son

hunted in the Highlands at various stations till Michaelmas, at which

festival they were the guests of Archbishop Beton at St. Andrews.

The young King entirely emancipated himself from the weak control

of his mother when he attained his eighteenth year, the period of

his majority. He then advanced to great honor one to whom he owed

infinite obligations: this was Sir David Lindsay. In the course of

the year 1530, James V. drew this inestimable friend of his infancy

from retirement, by making him Lord Lion King-at-arms--not by the

recommendation of his Queen-mother, as may very well be supposed.

A most flattering embassy was sent to Henry VIII. in the course of

the next year, when he found that the young King’s government was too

strong to be reversed. Lord William Howard appeared at the palace of

St. Andrews, where was abiding the King of Scotland, with a train of

threescore cavaliers, many of whom were noted as the most skillful in

all games of manly sport, as shooting, leaping, wrestling, quoits,

or casting of stones. Queen Margaret was witness to all the trials

of skill to which the Englishmen challenged the Scots, and she ever

took the part of her countrymen, and wagered on them. “But she and

they always _tint_” says our chronicler, Lindsay of Pitscottie.

At last, Queen Margaret betted against her son two hundred crowns,

that six of these Englishmen would shoot better with the bow, than any

half-dozen of Scotchmen, were they picked out of the whole kingdom,

nobles, gentles, or yeomen. The challenge ran that the English were to

shoot against them, “at _riveris_, the butts or prick-bonnet. The

young King, hearing of this _bonspiel_[436] of his mother, was

well content. And Queen Margaret laid down ane hundred crowns, and King

James laid down the same; and ane tun of wine was to be expended on

either side.”

The ground was chosen at St. Andrews, a town long famous for feats in

archery. The Scotch archers were “three landed gentlemen and three

yeomen, David Arnott of that ilk, David Weams of that ilk, and Mr.

John Wedderburne, vicar of Dundee. The yeomen were John Thomson of

Leith, Steven Tabroner, and Alick Baillie, who was ane piper, and

shot wondrous near.” The Englishmen who figured as their rivals, it

may be supposed, were not worthy to be named by the Lindsay, for they

were defeated at their far-famed national weapon; and Queen Margaret

lost her wager, to the intense delight of every Scotchman present.

She accompanied her son to the town of St. Andrews, where they were

followed by all engaged in the archery-contest, the young King having

determined to expend the whole of the two hundred crowns in a grand

feast, at which the archers were to preside, both winners and losers.

It was sufficiently rich to console the English for their defeat.

Lord William Howard’s real errand was to persuade the King of Scotland

to receive the hand of the Princess Mary Tudor. The Queen of Scotland

knew well that the Emperor could not induce her brother to keep

Katharine of Aragon in her place as Queen, or the English heiress as

Princess. And when they were degraded, what would her son James gain by

wedding the illegitimated daughter, but the plea for raising a civil

war with England, in maintenance of his Queen’s rights of succession?

Margaret had stigmatized her own daughter with illegitimacy, and let

her go forth a homeless wanderer on the face of the earth. She, a

woman, had not felt feminine tenderness sufficient to plead against

blemishing the good name and position in life of her own Margaret: how

then could she expect her brother would refrain from visiting his Mary

with a similar fate?

Queen Margaret knew her brother, if she did not know herself. She

had preceded him by several years in the race of that worst species

of profligacy, which scoffs at the sanctity of the marriage tie, and

the happiness of the children deriving existence from such union; she

therefore treated the disposal of the hand of her niece Mary to her

son, nearly as contemptuously as any of the Princes of Europe would

have considered a marriage with her own outcast daughter, Margaret

Douglas.

Margaret came on the first of June, 1532, to hold a forest court for

her dower-lands at Ettrick.[437] She demanded the keys of the fortress

of Newark[438] from the castellan Buccleuch, who refused them until he

knew King James’s pleasure on that matter. Queen Margaret sent a sharp

complaint to her son, who forthwith commanded Buccleuch to deliver the

keys to her Grace. Directly it was done she gave them to Methven. Her

train amounted to sixty cavaliers and twenty-four foot-runners. She

stayed at the Abbey of Dryburgh; from thence she passed to Coldstream,

and finished her summer progress at Holyrood. She had never received

satisfactory possession of her rich Ettrick dower-lands at any previous

time. Methven left his brother James with two hundred troopers, to

guard the rights of his royal spouse in Ettrick; and for some few years

Margaret found herself lady of her own lands.

Years had rolled on since Margaret had been favored with the slightest

confidential communication from her brother Henry VIII. He had as

deeply resented her divorce from the Earl of Angus, and her marriage

with Lord Methven, as if he had set her the purest pattern of conjugal

constancy. The political agitation in which his own repudiation of

Katharine of Aragon had involved his own kingdom, he knew, had given

unwonted strength to the government of Scotland, which became the

rallying point for all discontented with the divorce of Queen Katharine

and the disinheriting of Mary. If this state of affairs continued,

Henry considered that very serious interruptions might occur to his

wedded felicity with his new Queen. Meantime Margaret’s old friend and

confessor, Dr. Magnus, earnestly pressed on his attention the policy of

renewing his correspondence with Queen Margaret.

The reconciliation between Henry VIII. and his sister Margaret was

wholly ratified by Lord William Howard (uncle to Anne Boleyn), who

was appointed ambassador to Scotland in the autumn of 1534. His

instructions bear an especial clause, directing him to gain the

good graces of his King’s “dearest suster, the Queen-mother of

Scotland.”[439]

The only portion of Queen Margaret’s long letter of reconciliation

bearing directly on the previous coolness between herself and Henry

VIII. occurs in these words:--

“Please your Grace,[440] howbeit in time bypast some misadvised

persons have made unkindly report of Ws unto you, without cause

of offense in us, we have and always sal indured and continued

your most loving _cystyr_, intending no less all time of

our life, having sic confidence in you that ye will hold us the

same. Your Grace is our only brother, and Owz your only sister;

and since so is, let no divorce or _contraire_ have place,

nor no report of ill adviset alter our conceits, but brotherly

and cysterly love ever to endure, to the pleasure of God and

weal of us both. And trust no less in me than in yourself in all

and sindrie things at our whole power, as pleaseth your Grace to

command. Beseeching the eternal God to _consarve_ you in

everlasting grace.

“Written with our _awn_ hand at Edinburgh, the 12 day of

December instant, by your Grace awn and only

“Most lovyng and hummyll Cystyr,

“MARGARET R.”

Queen Margaret addressed a longer and more familiar epistle to the

all-powerful minister Cromwell, dated on the same day. She narrates

more of actual occurrences than usual in her wordy epistles. The

ostensible purport of the whole was to convey her loving greetings to

her new sister the Queen of Henry VIII., and commend herself to her

regard. Communications between Margaret, Queen of Scotland, and Anne

Boleyn are rarities in history.

Queen Margaret addressed Cromwell by the title of “My Lord Sacriter,”

meaning secretary, “and her dearly beloved friend,” informing him that

she had,

“By our dearest brother’s the King’s servitors, Master William

Barlow Prior and Thomas Holcroft, received the King our dearest

brother’s most loving letters, with sundry other honorable

tokens of remembrance, and also ane goodly letter, with ane

loving token from our dearest _cister_ the Queen (Anne

Boleyn), which not only shall be to our honor, but in like

manner unto his Grace and our dearest cistir, exhorting you

most affectuously that ye will in our name thank his grace most

heartily.”[441]

Margaret probably means that it will be an honor to Anne Boleyn to make

peace and heal differences between the royal families of Scotland and

England. She informs her brother’s secretary that she had summoned her

son to receive the envoys; and although King James had been but a very

short time convalescent of the infirmity of small-pox and fever, yet he

had traveled at the rate of twenty miles each day for eight days; and

at the last stage of twenty miles, being unable to proceed, had written

to her, his mother, requesting her to send her spouse Lord Methven to

convey the English envoys to him for audience. Margaret declares that

she had resolved to assist at this important congress, and great merit

she takes: “That on the next morrow, being the most troublous weather

that WE ever traveled into, WE _com_ to our dearest son, with whom we

communed and resolved, so that by the advice of us, and of no other

living person, determined and concluded the meeting.” The meeting thus

anxiously arranged and superintended by Queen Margaret, was to induce

her son’s acknowledgment of her brother’s tardily announced wedlock

with Anne Boleyn. The influence of the Queen-mother had evidently been

bought with high bribes, and she now looked forward to the pleasing

prospect of reaping golden harvests on every possible pretense whereon

she could hang a supplication for cash. She proceeds to declare the

opposition felt to Henry’s marriage with Anne Boleyn by the Chancellor

Beton and the rest of the spirituality of Scotland.

There is reason to believe that the tumultuous passions of young

James of Scotland only too eagerly seconded the recognition his uncle

demanded of the divorce of Katharine of Aragon and the marriage of Anne

Boleyn, for James himself was madly in love with the lady of Lochleven,

well known in Scottish history as the mother of James, afterward Regent

of Scotland. She was a married woman, but he came to the determination

of having her divorced, and following the example of his uncle of

England. His mother, whether she knew the scheme that had darted into

his brain or not, impetuously carried forward her brother’s plans.

Her letter to Cromwell described how the Catholic clergy in Scotland

submitted “in silence to the recognition of Anne Boleyn’s marriage,

save that they set a black friar to preach before her son in a sermon

made expressly to condemn it covertly.” “Which friar,” proceeds Queen

Margaret,[442] “we shall not stand content with, because his report

in some part concerned our dearest brother and his realm, howbeit

the same was colored and not expressly specifying his Grace nor his

subjects. We shall remember him (the friar) as cause requireth, but

assuredly the King, our dearest son, took no manner _tent_ (heed)

thereto.” Margaret concludes her letter to Cromwell with some exercise

of generosity in the way of a present, to which, notwithstanding her

alledged profusion, she was little addicted; her previous presents,

mentioned in her numerous letters, cost her nothing, being the famous

falcons, natives of the Scottish isles, called by her “hawks.” Her

gift to Cromwell was some kind of jewel. “And in rememberance ye will

receive ane little token, and wear the same for our pleasure, as she

that standeth to you your friend, at our power, and thinks her no less

indebted hearing of your faithful and obedient service done to the

pleasure, honor, and wealth of our dearest brother the King, and also

your good mind to us, his Grace’s only sister.”[443]

The uncle of Anne Boleyn, Lord William Howard, soon after returned

to Scotland, bearing the Order of the Garter,[444] with which it was

the pleasure of Henry VIII. to invest James V. The investment is

acknowledged by the Bishop of Aberdeen as taking place on March 4,

1534–5. Margaret soon after renewed her old petitions for cash, and by

Lord William Howard sent a pressing intimation “that her good services

deserved a pecuniary reward, which could be delicately tendered by her

brother by way of indemnifying her for her losses on her dower-lands

on the Marches.” In order to deserve her fees, she had contrived to

elicit from her son intelligence of the secret orders he had given to

his ambassador, Sir Adam Otterbourne, then resident at Hampton Court.

How he was not to agree to his uncle’s “new constitution of religion,”

and that he meant to change the place of meeting to Newcastle instead

of York. Margaret wrote down instantly a minute of all her son had

told her in confidence, and sent the particulars to her brother. A

baser breach of trust she never made. She added, that Sir Adam was

directed “not to press for answer in writing, but merely to report

cleverly what was remarked.” All these intimations Margaret thought

of sufficient moment to be forwarded by post to Berwick, whence they

were to be speeded onward. Margaret professed “that her son loved Henry

as his _natural_ father,” the more doubtless for the failure of

Anne Boleyn’s male heirs. Before the Queen-mother closed her letter,

she pumped other articles of Otterbourne’s instructions out of her

son; and she adds, “I spake with the King my son ere I directed this

letter. Please your Grace to have it close and secretly kept. By my

evil hand in haste. Off Edinburgh this 16 day of March.”[445] Lord

William Howard, who was again at Edinburgh in March 1535–6, informs

his master[446] “that Queen Margaret, and many others beside, had told

him that James meant to marry a gentlewoman of Scotland, the lord of

Erskine’s daughter, by whom he was already the father of a son.”[447]

Lord William then proceeds to give the erroneous tale that the King of

Scots “hath found the means to divorce her from her husband, and there

is great lamentation made in Scotland as far as men dare. No man was

privy to that matter but Sir James Hamilton.” Again that evil person

crosses the private history of the royal family of Scotland. Queen

Margaret’s own good name had been compromised a dozen years previously,

as shown in Lord Dacre’s dispatches. Since then he had assassinated

Lennox, and now appears as his young King’s arch-tempter.

Margaret was in consternation at the ruin which her example and that

of her brother was bringing on her son. James V. was on bad terms with

her; he had discovered her treacherous correspondence, and threatened

punishment. His rage broke out when his mother began to discuss his

meeting with his uncle at Newcastle. “Her Grace hath been so very plain

with him,” wrote Lord William, “that he is very angry with her. Your

Highness hath cause to give her great thanks. I humbly beseech your

Grace that Sir Adam Otterbourne (the Scottish resident ambassador) do

not know that I have _sartyfied_ your Grace that the marriage with

France was broken off, or he will cause the King’s Grace your nephew to

be angry.”[448]

The King of Scotland was angry, he raged at his mother; and Lord

William sent word to his royal master that “the King would not go to

York, which Queen Margaret and he had persuaded him to promise.” James

V., in an angry interview with his mother, recalled that promise. She

remained in consternation. What her son knew, or what he did not, she

could not ascertain. Her immediate imprisonment was hinted; yet she was

suffered to depart to Doune, near Menteith. Two days after she arrived

there, she dated a letter to her brother, assuming “that her son’s

displeasure arose because he would not meet his uncle at York, when he

chose to appoint Newcastle, on account of the free sea adjacent.”[449]

Margaret’s perplexity continued even up to May 12, when she wrote

an invitation for herself, that she might accompany her dearest

son to _wesy_ her dearest brother at the expected congress in

England--“_wesy_,” it may be guessed, is used by Margaret in the

sense affixed to the examinations of the late French passports, which

many of our readers will remember they had to send to be _visé_.

She owns in her letter that she has heard that Henry VIII. had such

important business in hand, “that she could hardly expect him to answer

whether he would be pleased for her to _wesy_ him or not; but

both she and Lord William were especially anxious for his answer.”

No wonder they waited long for their answer, for Henry’s important

avocations were connected with the demolition of his former idol, Anne

Boleyn, being no other than trying, divorcing, and beheading her. The

ambassador, Lord William Howard, who was the uncle of the unfortunate

lady, was of course anxious to learn the result of the astounding

tragedy. He speaks more, however, of Queen Margaret’s disgrace with

the King her son; for his secretary, Barlow,[450] wrote the same

day to Henry VIII., saying that “she was then in high displeasure

(disgrace) with King James, he bearing her in hand, or accusing her of

receiving gifts from her brother to betray him, with many other unkind

suspicious words; by reason of which she, greatly discomforted, is

weary of Scotland, and fully determined to come to England, so that it

be your Grace’s pleasure. She hath signified her mind in writing unto

your Grace, and likewise required us to solicit the same. Furthermore,

the King of Scotland’s purpose of marriage with the divorced

_jantylwoman_ is by no means to be dissuaded, but, against the

hearts of all his nobles, is like to be brought to pass (the French

marriage taking none effect), whereof no small disturbance is like

to rise within the realm.” Reports of Anne Boleyn’s imprisonment

were spread in the Scottish court before May 13 (the date of his

letter) came to a close. Lord William wrote to Cromwell concerning the

astonishment it caused to the Queen and the Scottish court, and begged

to have certain information, as he was asked every hour about the Queen

of England’s imprisonment, and could give no “_resolute answer_,

being ignorant.”[451]

Queen Margaret was not in the most easy state of mind: she had been

sternly answered by her son on renewing her importunities for his

meeting his uncle Henry VIII.:--“If,” said James V., “your brother

means by your aid to betray me, I had _liever_ (rather) it were

done while I am in mine own realm than in England!”[452]

Every one who has observed the proceedings of Margaret Tudor will be

rather surprised that her son had not addressed his remonstrance to her

a few years earlier than the date of Lord William Howard’s letter. As

it was, James, whose mind was in a tumult of passion, struggling with

the temptation of his unworthy love, and the honest wish to do his

duty to his people, was unwontedly severe to his mother; not that his

severity by any means came up to her deserts, but she had never before

been blamed by him. King James, in fact, was guilty of no severity to

his mother, except a few well-deserved reproofs. He took measures,

however, for the time to come, in his Council, that she had no power

but what she obtained surreptitiously. His vigorous mind ultimately

righted itself; the awful tragedy of his uncle’s lawless love for Anne

Boleyn was not lost upon him; he broke his bonds “with the divorced

_jantylwoman_”[453] (as Lord William Howard calls the mother of

the Regent Murray); he determined to marry respectably; but, in hopes

of matrimonial felicity, he resolved to see and converse with his wife

before he wedded.

At the departure of Lord William Howard from Edinburgh, Queen Margaret

was still there, in the Palace of Holyrood, but in disgrace with her

son, who retired in wrath to Linlithgow. Henry VIII., doubly engaged in

the destruction of his queen, and the wooing of her successor, had no

time to write to his sister. Very piteously did Barlow, the secretary

of the English ambassador, represent the case of Queen Margaret in

these words, addressed to Cromwell, May 25:[454]--“Her Grace Queen

Margaret hopes to receive some comfortable answer from the King, her

brother, in relief of her sorrow, which is not a little now, and like

to be much more grievous.” She wrote an urgent letter to her brother

the day of Lord William Howard’s departure, commending him and all his

proceedings to Henry VIII.; but the star of Howard had met with its

first obscuration in the disgrace of Queen Anne Boleyn.[455]

The projected alliance between the brother of Lord William and Lady

Margaret Douglas, there can be little doubt, was communicated by him to

the Queen-mother of Scotland during his embassies in 1536; which made

her recognize in the premier ducal family of England a future family

connection. Henry VIII. sent neither answer nor consolation to his

sister, who remained in deserved disgrace with her son, not daring to

renew her usual communication of his proceedings.

Some sudden urgency of pecuniary difficulty prompted her to demand

the cash she considered that she had earned in the affair of Anne

Boleyn’s recognition; for on July 16 she made a bold requisition from

her brother of 20,000 merks, “to help her out of perpetual pain, as

she had done all she could to further the visit of her son to England,

but he could not be induced to come.”[456] As her letter gave not

the slightest hint of her son’s voyage to France, which took place

a few days afterward,[457] July 24, Henry VIII. and his cunning

prime-minister, Cromwell, supposed Margaret had either lost the will

or the power to be their spy effectually. They bestowed no cash, but

expressed mighty astonishment wherefore she could want such heavy

sums “when her state was so prosperous under the protection of her

son and Lord Muffin.” In fact, it was utterly out of Margaret’s power

to send any intelligence regarding the King, otherwise than might be

gathered from any Scottish peasant crossing the Border; for her son

kept his voyage in search of a wife a profound secret from the world

in general,[458] and from his mother in particular. Margaret was left

without power in the government, and was fain to reside on her demesnes

in the west of Scotland.

Being thus under a cloud, and in disgrace with her royal son, she gave

a portion of remembrance to that other child from whom her divorce from

the father had estranged her. While residing at Perth, Queen Margaret

heard of the severity with which her daughter had been treated by Henry

VIII.; and that not only her unfortunate lover, Lord Thomas Howard,

but even the young lady herself was then suffering harsh imprisonment

in the Tower for their steadfast adherence to their betrothment with

each other. Exasperated by the whole proceedings of her brother and

his ministers, Queen Margaret wrote, August 12, 1536, in earnest

remonstrance regarding the ill-treatment of her child.[459] She wrote

with more eloquence and spirit than usual, reproaching her brother

with first encouraging her daughter in plighting her faith to Lord

Thomas Howard, and then punishing them both with rigorous imprisonment.

Margaret, in the course of her letter, demands with a high hand, that

her daughter may be sent forthwith to her in Scotland--if done, “she

will answer that her child will never trouble her brother more.” There

is a little relief from the selfishness of Margaret’s usual conduct,

to find the maternal feelings thus ardently breaking forth through

the crust of diplomacy. Queen Margaret, as she afterward affirmed,

was struck with such displeasure and indignation at her daughter’s

incarceration in the Tower, that it put a stop to her intended journey

into England, where she meant to have given her brother the honor

and advantage of her society, for the purpose of being re-married to

her former spouse, Archibald, Earl of Angus, then at his court.[460]

Although she speaks angrily in another epistle, “that any person could

believe such a thing of her,” yet, in a third dispatch, she mentions it

with complacency. Shakspeare might well have apostrophized her in the

words--

“False, fickle, changing woman!”

as he did her grandmother, whose conduct was more excusable.

Her maternal remonstrance was but a spark of high spirit just struck

out by circumstances, and extinct forever. She soon recurred to her

usual mean mendacity, while Henry VIII., in course of years, received

the perpetual complaints of his sister much in the same spirit that

pedestrians, on their beat daily, view the petitions of perennial

beggars hourly asking relief on the same distress. Margaret perpetually

urges her brother for money; perpetually giving as reasons the

ill-treatment of her son, or of one or other of her husbands. At this

period of her life, she varied her complaints by telling tales of her

son, and finishing up the picture of her wrongs with some dark touches

concerning her third husband, Harry, Lord Methven.

Her supplication was answered by her brother, in civil terms it is

true; yet a vein of quiet sarcasm runs through the composition.

“Dearest sister,[461] you shall understand, that like-as we

would be right sorry to see that our good brother and nephew

(James V.) should not use you in all things as beseemeth a

natural and kind son to use his mother, so you may certainly

persuade yourself, that in case we should certainly perceive

that you were treated otherwise than your honor and the treaty

of your marriage doth require, there shall, on our behalf,

want no loving and kind office which we think may tend to your

relief.”

In thus mentioning her marriage, her brother does not trouble himself

with the two husbands she married while Queen Dowager, but merely

with the marriage treaty which gave the Princess Royal of England the

crown-matrimonial of Scotland.

“But, dearest sister,” continues Henry VIII., “by the report

of Sir John Campbell, whom you recommended as your special

friend, it appeared to us that you be very well _handled_

(treated), and be grown to much _wealth_ (weal), quiet,

and riches; and, on the other side, by your account given our

servant, Berwick, it appeareth otherwise. These tales be so

contrary one to another, that we may well remain doubtful which

of them we may believe. Perceiving also, by other information

received from you, concerning your trouble and evil handling,

both by our nephew, your son, and by the ‘Lord Muffyn,’ that

either your state varies, or else things have not been well

understood.”

Henry VIII., however, ordered Cromwell to call Lord Methven to account

for his misdoings; but that noble only answered by asking Cromwell to

assure the King of England “that his own _simpleness_ was always

ready to serve him in all humility before all princes in the world,

excepting his own sovereign lord.” His letter was dated December 11, at

Edinburgh.[462] Poor Lord Methven! His few lines were evidently penned

in great astonishment as to how he had drawn on himself the wrath of

the terrible brother of his queenly spouse.

All the advantage possible to be made of the Queen’s complaints of

ill-treatment by her son and Lord Methven was taken by Henry VIII.

He hated Methven, because he had reason to know that he was a most

faithful servant to James V. But he affected to lend a pitying ear

to his sister’s woful representations, and took the opportunity of

sending Ralph Sadler to spy in Scotland during the absence of the

King, under pretense of the necessity of secret conference on some

delicate distress of his dearest sister, Queen Margaret. Sadler went

to Scotland, and returned laden with packets of the Queen’s letters

and verbal messages concerning a new divorce, as she had come to the

resolution of dismissing Lord Methven. She looked long and vainly

for answers. At last Harry Ray (the pursuivant called Berwick) came

ostensibly to inquire about some friars who had escaped across the

Borders, but in reality he was to have secret communication with Queen

Margaret, and hear from her lips the condition of Scotland, and whether

any mischief could be done in its young King’s absence.

Such was the gist of Harry Ray’s mission, which Margaret deemed was

to expedite her second divorce and fourth marriage with “one John

Stuart.”[463] For so both history and tradition name the cause of her

meditated change of spouses. It must be owned the Queen was constant

to the Stuart family. Her hand had already been given to King James

Stuart--she had divorced her second spouse, with the hopes of marrying

the Regent, John Stuart, Duke of Albany--she had actually wedded Harry

Stuart, and she now intended to marry some commoner called John Stuart,

if she could succeed in ridding herself of the spouse with whom she

had passed the last twelve years. A tradition exists among some of

the noblest families in Scotland, that Margaret’s fourth intended

husband was no other than that strange character, John Stuart Earl of

Arran, who, after effecting a revolution in the minority of James VI.,

vanishes suddenly from the historical scene in 1584. As Margaret was

partial to very young men, Arran might have been her intended spouse

in 1536, and yet not have seen sixty at the period of his death. He

was one of the Scotch colony of Darnley-Stuarts bred in France, whose

general code of morals did no great credit to their adopted country.

The interview between Queen Margaret and her brother’s agent was

conducted with the utmost caution. Harry Ray was requested to change

his gay gaberdine for a hat and cloak after the fashion of Scotland,

and to follow a friend of his, pertaining to Queen Margaret’s service,

into the private apartments of royalty at Holyrood. At nine at night

it was announced to him that Queen Margaret would give him secret

audience. “And there,” he says, “I met her alone in a gallery, no

person knowing of the interview but only her said servant.” The Queen

at first said, “You are welcome; but I marvel that I hear no word of

the letters I sent by Raufe Sadler. I trow my friends forget me! I pray

you speak to my lord of Norfolk (the Duke), that he be so good cousin

and friend as to remember the King, my brother, to be a kind and loving

brother unto me, and to see some way for me, as I shall be a kind and

loving sister to him, and at his commandment in all cases.”

Harry Ray, who was not the most diplomatic of all spies, replied, “I

shall not fail to do the same;” and then bluntly added, “that the Duke

of Norfolk desired her to show him some news.” Small hopes there were

of any good to be gained by fishing in troubled waters at that time.

Margaret’s answer showed that the Scottish people were unanimously

obedient to the vigorous intellect of their young monarch, absent

though he was.[464]

“There is not one lord in Scotland,” replied Queen Margaret, “that will

speak to the King, my son, good counsel toward England, unless it be he

take it of himself. All the lords and council here do verily believe

that your ships be gone forth on the western seas, to the intent to

seize the King my son. And now the Lords of the Scottish Council have

_sitten_ in counsel, for what purpose I know not; but upon their

rising they sent away Rosey[465] herald into France, to the King

thereof, thinking he would arrive before the departure of King James.

The herald was to oversee the country of England as he went through it,

and report the same to the King my son.”

The pursuivant said he should declare the same to the Duke of Norfolk,

and away he went.

Queen Margaret had not yet spoken her mind to the messenger, as those

who are acquainted with her furtive disposition can very well guess.

Next evening, at the very same hour, the English pursuivant had again

to throw off his gorgeous heraldic tabard, and muffle himself up in

Scotch plaid, before he followed his guide into the Queen’s private

gallery in Holyrood Palace.

“There shall be nothing done in this realm,” said the Queen, “but the

King my brother, and my lord of Norfolk, shall have knowledge of it.

The Lords and all the commonalty of Scotland do suspect that ye will

make war against them; and if it be so, let my lord of Norfolk make

sure of the Commons.”

Margaret meant the common people of England. The destitute poor among

them, in their extreme agony at the deprivation of support by the

monasteries, without other aid being provided, had lately risen in

the rebellion called the “Pilgrimage of Grace,” and were now daily

sending invitations to the King of Scotland for assistance. The Berwick

pursuivant rejoined, “Hath your Grace any _suspect_ that they are

not sure enough?”

“Nay,” answered Queen Margaret; “but I pray you show this unto him--and

also, if ye intend war, say, that I pray my lord of Norfolk that he

make no war until I and Harry Stuart be divorced. For if the war should

be before the said divorce were made, the Lords of Scotland will

suffer him to have my living.” There came Queen Margaret to her usual

conclusion of self-seeking: war was to be made to square with her own

pleasure and inclinations.

Margaret received no answer until the middle of May, when a dispatch

arrived from Cromwell,[466] full of general assurances of how earnestly

“the King, her brother, had travailed for her contentation in the

solicitation of her honorable causes.” The wily minister mentions

not the divorce, but presses her for intelligence from Scotland, and

sends her a present “of cramp-rings,” as his respectable master had

lately consecrated a batch of those useful and valuable articles.

Taking artful advantage of Margaret’s grumbling invectives against

her son, Henry VIII. had provokingly sent Ralph Sadler on a mission

to him when the highly-favored guest and son-in-law of Francis I.

The errand of Sadler was to remonstrate with the King of Scotland on

the great cruelty of treating his mother so very ill that she was

forced, by piteous bewailings, to awaken her brother’s compassion in

her favor.[467] How infinitely exasperated James V. must have been

may be considered, when the ill-treatment consisted only of his

disapprobation of his mother, then in her forty-eighth year, divorcing

her third husband to marry a fourth--out of these four husbands three

being then alive! According to Queen Margaret’s plea concerning James

IV., the whole four might be considered in existence on the best

authority!

The Queen, finding that her son and his fair French bride were embarked

for return to Scotland,[468] hurried on her divorce from Methven. She

had the whole process fairly transcribed, and it was on the very eve of

promulgation when James V. landed.[469] When Queen Margaret met her son

and his bride, all was joy and serenity for the first few days; which

happy order of affairs even outlasted her letter dated June 7, 1537,

and written to Henry VIII.,[470] “thanking him for the benefaction of

£200,” which sum she had at length extracted from him, that she might

appear queenly, for the honor of England, in the eyes of the royal

daughter of France. Margaret likewise thanks her brother for sending

his “secret servant, Master Sadler,” to her son in France, to complain

how ill she was treated in Scotland; that she had spoken at length to

James V., who sent an ambassador, the Abbot of Arbroath, to his uncle;

and very earnest is Queen Margaret that, although the Scotch envoy was

an ecclesiastic, her brother would not fall out with him, “but to take

kindly to the said abbot, lest he should make evil report; and that

he be well entreated, for he is great with the King my son; and let

him understand that it is your will and pleasure that I be honorably

entreated and obeyed of my living, seeing I am your Grace’s sister; and

this being done, your Grace will be kinder to the realm of Scotland for

my sake. These good words may do your Grace no hurt, and me much good;

and with the help of God I shall deserve the same at my power.”[471]

As for her new divorce, it was progressing to admiration. “Pleaseth

your Grace to know, that my divorce and _partition_ is at the

giving of sentence, and proved by many famous folk, to the number of

four-and-twenty provers. An’ by the grace of God, I shall never have

such a trouble again, and your Grace may be sure I shall _never_

do nothing but by your Grace’s counsel and commandment; for I may do

your Grace both honor and pleasure better now as I am. Beseeching your

Grace, if I have need, that I lack not your help and supply, which I

trust I shall not fail to have, if I be wronged in any thing I have a

right to.”[472] Unfortunately for the placidity of Queen Margaret’s

temper, directly her proceedings reached the ears of her son, his

first care, notwithstanding “all her famous folk, and four-and-twenty

provers,” was to quash the whole of the fine scheme.

Long and loud were her invectives on his want of filial duty. It is

strange, however, that throughout her correspondence she brings no

charge against Lord Methven, excepting “that he spent more of her

income than she thought right.” If such cause could be successfully

pleaded for dismissing a lord and master, perhaps Queen Margaret’s

example would be more generally followed. Tradition affirms, that

Lord Methven had been privately married to a young widow, called the

Mistress of Sutherland, by whom he had a family nearly the same age as

the children he had by the Queen; and that this lady’s offspring were

afterward mistaken for hers.

Margaret was on angry terms with her son during the short time his

Queen Magdalene lived. Greatly injured she deemed herself, on account

of the restriction he put upon the promulgation of “her sentence.” She

expresses herself on the subject of her wrongs, in her epistle to “her

cousin the Duke of Norfolk,” telling him she thought it--

“Great _on_ kindness that when ye do send in this realm,

that ye will not write or send to speak with me, that I may

hear from you, and you to hear how I am entreated. For, since

the departure of Master Sadler, I have gotten no word neither

from the King’s Grace my brother, nor yet from you, which were

greatly to my comfort to hear from.

“And, dearest cousin, I must make my complaint to you, how I

am heavily done to in this realm, for I have _optaynet_

(obtained) my cause of divorce betwixt ME and the Lord

of Meffen, and it is so far past that the judge has concluded

and written my sentence, ready to be pronounced this twelve

weeks bypast; but the King my son has _stoppen_ the

same, and will not let it be given, contrary to justice and

reason. And he promised, when I gave him my mains of Dunbar

for a certain sum of money, that I should have the sentence

pronounced.

“Thus, my Lord, I trust it be the King’s Grace my brother’s

will, that I have reason done me and obeyed of my living.

Suppose I may not write daily to his Grace, and seeing ye are so

near these parts (_he was at Sheriffe Hutton_), your good

writing and words would do me much good with the King my son, so

that he may understand that his Grace my brother will not suffer

me to be wronged, for I am daily holden in great trouble for the

lack of my sentence!

“Therefore I pray ye, my Lord and cousin, that ye will make some

errand here to the King my son, not saying I did advertise you;

but that everybody speaks of _it_ (_the expediency of her

divorce_), that I should lack justice which is _moder_

to him, which is to his dishonor.

“Thus, my Lord and cousin, ye may help me out of my trouble

through your good writing, for an’ they trust the King’s Grace

my brother will be displeased at this, they will remedy the

same. As for me, I am holden in such suspicion for England’s

(_sake_), that I dare send no Scottish man.

“Therefore I desire you to send some special servant of yours,

that I may speak withal,--praying you, my Lord, to do this at my

request, as ye will that I fare well; and as my special hest is

in you, the sooner ye send it is the better for me.

“And I pray you, my Lord, that you will give credence to Harry

Ray.

“And God have you in his keeping.

“Yours, MARGARET R.”

Endorsed, without date of time or place--“To my Lord and cousin,

the Duke of Norfolk.”[473]

In the midst of the angry controversy between the mother and son

concerning her absurd divorce, the hopes that Queen Margaret had

long cherished, that the English succession would eventually fall

to her line, seemed to be destroyed by the arrival of the news that

her brother had an heir born. The Queen dates her letter October 14,

acknowledging the information of the birth of her nephew (afterward

Edward VI.)--a date scarcely credible, as he was only born October

12.[474]

“Trusty and well beloved friend,” she wrote to Cromwell,[475] “I

commend me heartily to you, and _has_ received your writing

from the King my brother’s servant, and the joyful tidings that

ye have written to me, that God hath had the grace to send a

Prince to the King’s Grace my brother; the which I assure you,

next the welfare of the King’s Grace my brother, it is the

thing in the world most to my grace and comfort, praying God to

preserve him in health and long life, as I shall pray daily for.

Be the King my dearest brother in good prosperity, I trust I can

not be evil. But ye shall understand I have been and _is_

yet heavily troubled, as any jantlewoman may be; and I trust no

princes are in that sort entreated.”

In another letter, dated October 30, Queen Margaret again mentioned

the birth of her nephew Edward, with congratulatory expressions, and

renewed her complaints of her son’s cruelty. Yet she acknowledges that

she “was comforted to understand that, on the death of Lord Thomas

Howard, her brother had released her daughter, Margaret Douglas, from

the Tower.”[476]

A few days afterward, Queen Margaret wrote to Cromwell and to her

brother. In the latter epistle she gives the following curious

information,--“That though she had provided her judge with

four-and-forty _famous_ proofs, as cause of divorce between her

and Lord Meffin,” yet her son had undutifully stopped the divorce,

“and would not let it be pronounced. For no labor or soliciting by

me, my son will not do it, for this cause, as he alledges, ‘that I

would pass to England, and marry him that was Earl of Angus;’ and

this Harry Stuart, Lord of Methven, causes him to believe this of

ME![477] I had liever be dead,” adds Margaret, “for I am

holden in great suspicion.” She is indignant at having no residence but

a town to dwell in, being then abiding at Dundee.

James V. had at this time set his mind on obtaining a young lion, there

being one in Flanders, which his gentleman, Thomas Scott of Pitgarno,

had been sent to cheapen; but the agents of Henry VIII. bought it out

of his hands. Scott very naïvely says, “My maister is a young Prince

delighting in sic things for his pleasure; and he had assured him that,

if his uncle knew how he delighted in sic pleasures (young lions),

which are not gettable here, in my own simpleness I deemed that the

King of England would have suddenly propined his purchase to him, his

dear nephew.”[478]

Queen Margaret wrote formally to her brother, December, 1537, by Sir

Thomas Erskine and the Abbot of Kinloss, to announce the approaching

wedlock of her son and Mary of Lorraine, Duchess of Longueville.[479]

In a gossiping interview with Lord Wharton in the preceding October,

she had sent to her brother some particulars she had gleaned from her

son concerning the new bride’s complexion, stature, and jointure, which

will be best related in the life of that Queen.

Queen Margaret never lost the slightest opportunity of begging from her

brother, whether in rebellions or rejoicings, marriages or mournings,

festivities or funerals; it was always requisite to his honor that some

cash should be forthcoming. Her son’s marriage with the fair widow of

Longueville gave occasion for one of her most importunate requisitions,

not only for money, but for presents of plate.

“DEAREST BROTHER,[480]--Pleaseth your Grace to consider

now the coming into this realm of the lady, spouse to your

nephew our dearest son; and with her comes sundry strangers, for

the which, an’ it pleaseth your Grace, we think to address us

at this time, according so far as we may, to the honor of your

Grace and our noble progenitors.

“Wherefore, an’ please your Grace to be good brother to us,

as to support part with money and some silver-work (plate) as

pleaseth best your Grace to do, for we may be chargeable to your

Grace before all earthly creature.

“Beseeching your Grace, in our most humble manner, of your

Grace’s pardon hereunto, and that it please your Grace to

advertise me by this bearer of your Grace’s will anent the same,

in writing. An’ if it please your Grace to do such pleasure and

honor to me, your Grace’s only faithful sister, your Grace shall

more and more deem the same merited as in my possible power.

Almighty God conserve your Grace eternally.

“By the evil hand (writing) of your Grace’s humble sister,

“MARGARET R.”

From the time of Queen Margaret’s intimacy with her daughter-in-law,

Mary of Lorraine, her importunity for divorce ceased. But she wrote

another earnest petition to her brother for alms, by Rothesay Herald,

promising never again to be “cummersome to your Grace, but to guide

myself within bounds to your pleasure and my honor.”[481] Nevertheless

she obtained nothing. She wrote again, May, 1540, but whether with

better success can not be told: it was probably her last begging letter.

Readers of history have been willfully led, by certain party authors,

into the mistake of supposing that every bad Catholic was a good

Protestant. A more fatal error for the cause of true religion can

not exist; nor can the enemies of Christianity in general receive

greater satisfaction than when they find iniquities defended under

the plea that they are good for the advancement of some Christian

sect or other. To call evil good violates the truth oftener than to

represent good as evil; for, alas! poor human nature, in its feeble

attempts to do good, too frequently mingles it with some pollution or

other. But to represent such conduct as that of Margaret as zeal for

_reformation_ is at once an insult to truth and Christianity.

After scandalizing all sincere Christians by her attempts to break her

marriages, she affected, when she found sickness and age advancing,

great piety as a Roman Catholic, to which religion she had been

supposed to be inimical. “The young Queen is all Papist,” wrote

Norfolk to the Lord Privy Seal, Cromwell,[482] “and the old Queen not

much less, as I am informed she hath taken Harry Stuart again (Lord

Methven). She is now at Stirling, and therefore Berwick (the herald of

Henry VIII.) could not speak with her, whereof I am sorry.”

Queen Margaret authenticates the shrewd remark of her old

correspondent, Norfolk, by inditing in the same year an odd letter,

still extant in the State Paper Office, which must have been one of

her Easter good doings, as it is dated March 1, 1540.[483] “The Queen

recommends a poor religious man, Friar Joachim, sometime sacrist of

the Holy Sepulcher of our Lord Jesus in Jerusalem, and now monk of the

Abbey of Our Lady of Grace, situate betwixt the cities of Jerusalem and

Damascus, lately come to Scotland with patent letters of the Patriarch

of Jerusalem, to collect alms for the ransom of the abbot and monks of

St. Basil, violently taken and holden in prison by the Saracen infidels

in those parts.” Her Saracens, of course, are Arabs. The friar wished

to pass through England home, but dared not, without Margaret wrote to

her brother in his behalf. But how the redoubtable friar-expeller and

monk-killer relished this supplication from his penitent sister has not

come to light.

She aimed still at great influence in public life, and was mortified if

she found herself disregarded. When Sir Ralph Sadler came to Scotland

from Henry VIII., in February, 1540, to negotiate with her son James

V., he found her settled in her winter apartments at Holyrood. She was

broken in spirit and infirm in health. Sir Ralph had been charged by

her brother, Henry VIII., to visit the “old Queen,” and let her know

how desirous he was to hear of her health and prosperity. On hearing

this message she demanded of the ambassador if he had not a letter from

his master, and was displeased and hurt when she found the King, her

brother, had neglected to write to her. She said--

“Though I be forgotten in England, never shall _I_ forget England.

It would have been a small matter to have spent a little paper and ink

on me, and much would it have been for my comfort. Were it perceived

that the King’s Grace, my brother, did better regard me, I should be

better regarded by all parties here.”

One of her letters to Henry VIII. alludes to political intelligence,

which she had surreptitiously sent to him:--

“I trust,” she says, “you will stand my friend and loving

brother in that I get no hurt in nothing that I write to your

Grace, nor that you will write nothing concerning me, your

sister, to the King my son without I be first advertised, and

that it be with my advice. Praying your Grace, dearest brother,

that it will please you to do this for me, your sister, and I am

and shall be ever ready to do your Grace’s will and pleasure.

But I am afraid that I put your Grace to great pain and

travail to read my oft writing and my evil hand. Praying your

Grace to pardon me of the same, and that it will please you,

dearest brother, _to keep secret any writings that I send,

for otherwise it may do me great hurt_; which I trust your

Grace will not do to me, your sister, seeing I am remaining in

this realm, as God knows, whom preserve your Grace. Written at

Stirling the 12th day of May.”

Endorsed in a handwriting of the time--“The Queen Dowager of

Scotland to the King’s Majesty, 12th of May, 1541.”

It is only too plain that Queen Margaret was playing the old game

of execrable treachery, by sending intelligence to Scotland’s most

formidable enemy, although the government was now in the hands of her

son, instead of the “lords-adversaries,” or her “cousin Albany.” Thus

was the ruling passion strong in death; for the same person who, in her

first letter, wrote mischief-making gossip to her father concerning

her husband, James IV., and Surrey, at a time when she was scarcely

experienced enough with the pen to form the characters which conveyed

her meaning, now indites cautions, that her correspondence with her

brother may not be discovered by “her dearest son.”

Wordsworth has, with his usual admirable skill in psychology, noted the

identity of character between the boyhood and after-life of the same

man, by the terse line, “The boy is father of the man.” And of Margaret

Tudor may as truly be said--the girl was mother of the woman.

Queen Margaret was struck with palsy, Friday afternoon, November 20,

at Methven Castle. She had no idea that her sickness was unto death,

until a few hours before her decease. She was not under any alarm until

Tuesday noon, when she sent for her son, who was at Falkland Palace.

Finding she became worse every moment, she prepared for death according

to the rites of the Roman Catholic church. Her conscience was uneasy

regarding her spouse, Lord Angus; and she commanded the friars, to

whom she confessed, “to sit on their knees before the King, her son,

and beseech that he would be good and gracious to Lord Angus.” Queen

Margaret, moreover, exceedingly lamented, and asked “God mercy that she

had offended the said Earl as she had.”[484]

She likewise requested her confessors to solicit her son James V.

for her, to be good to the Lady Margaret Douglas her daughter, and

that he would give her what goods she left, thinking it right because

her daughter had never had any thing of her. She had made no will

previously to her mortal illness, and had neither time or memory

to dispose of her property after she was convinced she should die.

Whatsoever wrong Queen Margaret had done against her husband and

daughter, she had not the satisfaction of receiving her son’s promise

to right them as far as possible, for she expired before King James

arrived at Methven Castle. The King ordered Oliver Sinclair and John

Tennant, two gentlemen of his privy-chamber, to lock up all her

property. At the time of her death the Queen left in ready money but

2500 marks Scots. Henry VIII. sent Ray, the Berwick Herald, to learn

whether his sister was really dead, and whether she died intestate. The

herald obtained the above information.[485]

James V. gave his mother a most magnificent funeral. He attended in

person to lay her head in the grave, and accompanied her body from

Methven Castle to Perth, with a long procession of his clergy and

nobility. The burial-place of Queen Margaret was in the Abbey Church

of St. John, belonging to the great Carthusian monastery, from which

Perth occasionally takes the name of St. Johnston, being situated

without the Southgate Port, on the south side of the street where King

James VI.’s hospital has since been built. Her coffin was placed in the

vault of James I., near his body and that of his Queen Jane Beaufort,

founders of the Carthusian monastery. On its demolition by a mob at the

Reformation, 1559, it is said that these bodies were transferred to the

east end of St. John’s Church. Queen Margaret’s resting-place, with the

other royal remains, is supposed to be under a large blue marble slab,

carved in two compartments, with a royal crown of Scotland over each,

adorned with _fleur-de-lis_. In confirmation of the falsehood

purposely given out, that the family of Gowrie was descended from

Margaret, some of them were interred in the royal sepulcher under this

stone, particularly the young Earl James, who died in 1566.[486]

Margaret Tudor left two widowers; one the Earl of Angus, then an exile,

residing with her daughter Lady Margaret Douglas at the court of Henry

VIII. The other was Henry, Lord Methven. She was the mother of a son

and daughter by Lord Methven. There is great mystery concerning their

identity, as they were kept in the shade, owing to their mother’s

manœuvers at the time of her second divorce. Both died early in life. A

report is prevalent in history, that Lady Dorothea Stuart, the daughter

of Queen Margaret, was the mother of the Earl of Gowrie’s numerous and

ambitious family. The report was evidently encouraged by them, but

was untrue; the Lady Dorothea was betrothed to Lord Gowrie, but died

childless.[487] Burnet quotes a patent in which James V. confirms the

barony of Methven to Henry Stuart, his maternal brother, called the

Master of Methven, who, with his father (then Queen Margaret’s second

widower), was afterward killed, valiantly fighting at the battle of

Pinkie, September, 1547.

Some of Margaret Tudor’s mistakes in government, it is possible, may

be attributed to the fact that she is the first instance that occurs,

since Christianity was established in the island, of regnant power

being confided to the hands of a woman who was expected to reign as

_femme seule_. She had no education, scarcely any religion, and

was guided entirely by her instincts, which were not of an elevated

character. Her misdeeds, and the misfortunes attributable to her

personal conduct, gave rise to most of the terrible calamities which

befell her descendants. Some persons among the aristocracy of Scotland

followed her evil example of divorce, which caused long and angry

litigation concerning the birthright of their descendants. The fearful

feud between the houses of Arran and Darnley-Stuart was of this kind,

which deeply involved the prosperity of her granddaughter, Mary, Queen

of Scots. And that hapless Princess was likewise marked as a victim by

the cold and crafty Ruthven, on account of his family interests being

affected by Queen Margaret’s marriages and divorces.

A succession of tragedies, for three generations, was the consequence

of Margaret Tudor’s indulgence of her selfish passions. Nor are the

woes attendant on the contempt of the divine institution of marriage

limited to the great ones of the earth. Many a domestic tragedy,

though shrouded in the obscurity of every-day life, may be traced to

the same cause. Sorrow enters with sin; it desolates the peace of home;

and unoffending children suffer for the evil of their parents, whenever

persons are found to break, either by willful passions or litigious

contest, the earliest law given by the Almighty.

MAGDALENE OF FRANCE.

CHAPTER I.

SUMMARY.

Lineage of Magdalene--Curious record of her birth by

her grandmother--Louisa of Savoy--Her christening--Her

governess--Costly nursery-plate--Magdalene’s elder sister

contracted to James V. of Scotland--Early deaths of Magdalene’s

sisters--Death of the Queen her mother--Magdalene proposed

as consort of James V. in place of her sister--Queen-mother

of Scotland’s favorite opposes the match--Captivity of

Magdalene’s father, Francis I.--Magdalene educated by her aunt,

Margaret of Valois--Liberation of her father--Magdalene’s

step-mother--James V. renews his proposals for Magdalene--Death

of her grandmother--Francis I. offers Magdalene to James V.--Her

rivals, the three royal Maries--James V. prefers Magdalene--Her

ill-health--Forbidden to quit France--Her father offers Mary

of Vendôme to James V. instead of Magdalene--James’s romantic

expedition to France--Visits Paris and Vendôme incognito--Secret

reports of his proceedings--Meeting between James and the

Dauphin at St. Sophorin--Affectionate reception of King James

by Francis I. at Lyons--First public meeting between James

and Magdalene--Their mutual love--Her illness impedes their

union--James accompanies Magdalene to Paris--Demands her

formally in marriage--Her younger sister offered to James--He

will have none but Magdalene--Her unexpected recovery--Marriage

articles between James and Magdalene--Her portion--Her jointure

as Queen of Scotland.

The history of Magdalene of France, the first consort of James V. of

Scotland, affords a touching exemplification of the oft-repeated fact--

“The glories of our birth and state

Are shadows, not substantial things.”

The Scotch, in their passionate regrets for the untimely loss of their

midsummer Queen of forty days, have in sooth enshrined her memory in

such an atmosphere of poetry as to render it difficult to speak of her

in that simplicity of sober prose which befits historical biography.

The parentage of Magdalene de Valois was peculiarly illustrious. Her

father was that chivalric and accomplished monarch Francis I., King

of France; her mother, Queen Claude, surnamed the Good, was the eldest

daughter and representative of two reigning sovereigns--namely, Louis

XII. of France, and Anne, Duchess of Bretagne, widow of Charles VIII.

of France. Claude had been affianced in childhood to the Emperor

Charles, when only Duke of Luxembourg; but the King, her father, to

prevent the alienation of the duchy of Bretagne, of which she was the

indisputable heiress, from the crown of France, gave her in marriage

to Francis de Valois,[488] the heir of that realm; thus securing to

her the prospective dignity of Queen-consort of France, and to her

eldest surviving son by that marriage the sovereignty, from which

she was barred by the Salic law. Francis succeeded to the throne of

France on the death of Louis XII. in 1515. Queen Claude was very near

her confinement with the Princess Magdalene, her fifth child, at the

time she had to preside over the splendid fêtes and tournaments at the

congress of Ardres, called the Field of the Cloth-of-Gold, in June,

1520. The courts of England and France separated on the 29th of that

month; Francis and Claude returned to Paris, and subsequently retired

to the royal new-built chateau of St. Germains-en-Laye, where, on the

10th of August, Magdalene first saw the light.[489] Her birth is thus

recorded by the pen of her paternal grandmother, Louise of Savoy, in

her curious chronicle of cotemporary events:--

“In August, 1520, on St. Lawrence’s day, at ten o’clock in the evening,

at St. Germains-en-Laye, was born of the Queen my daughter, Magdalene,

the third daughter of the King my son.”[490]

Francis I. having invited the republic of Venice to christen his

new-born daughter, the Venetian ambassador, as the representative of

that state, bore the infant princess to the baptismal font, and named

her Magdalene. “God preserve the royal sire, the mother, and their

children, in all prosperity!” exclaims their loyal cotemporary, Humbert

Vellay;[491] concluding his sprightly chronicle with the remark,--“This

written above was done before the sixth year of the reign of our King

Francis.”

Anne Boleyn was in the service of Queen Claude at the period of

Magdalene’s birth,[492] and was, of course, present at the ceremonial

of her baptism. Magdalene’s earliest preceptress was Madame de Brissac,

the aunt of Brantôme the historian, and the wife of a brave mareschal

of France. Some articles of plate belonging to the costly nursery

toilet of the infant princess subsequently found their way into the

royal jewel-house of Scotland, and are thus described by a Scotch

cotemporary:--

“Twa lytill culppis of gold, made to Quene Magdalene quhane sho was

ane barne.” In plaun English, two little cups of gold, made for Queen

Magdalene when she was a child. “Item, ane bassing and laver, sic lyk

maid for hir in hir barneheid; the tane of aget, the uther of jespe,

sett in gold, with ane lytill flacone of cristalline of the samyne

sorte;”[493] which, by interpretation, signifies, a basin and ewer, in

like manner made for her in her infancy; the one of agate, the other

of jasper, set in gold, with a little flagon of crystal of the same

fashion.

Magdalene had two brothers older than herself, Francis the Dauphin, and

Henry, Duke of Orleans, afterward Henry II. of France; and one younger,

Charles, who succeeded to that title when Henry became Dauphin. She had

also two sisters older, and one younger than herself.[494] These royal

children of France were all remarkable for their beauty and amiable

qualities. Of Magdalene’s elder sisters, the Princesses Charlotte

and Louise, Brantôme thus speaks--“Death came too soon to allow the

fair fruit of which the hopeful blossoms of their tender childhood

had given such beauteous promise, to arrive at their full perfection;

but, if those Princesses had been spared to reach maturity, they would

have been no whit inferior to their sisters, either in intellect or

goodness, for their promise was very great.”[495]

Two years before Magdalene was born, her future consort, James V.,

was engaged, by one of the articles of the solemn treaty for the

renewing the ancient alliance between France and Scotland, executed at

Rouen, 1518, to marry the younger of these Princesses. The eldest,

Louise, was promised to the Emperor Charles V., but death dissolved

both contracts before the affianced brides were of age to ratify the

pact. “Thus,” says the eloquent Brantôme, after his eulogium on their

precocious endowments, “the beautiful rosebuds are as often scattered

by the wind as the full-blown flowers of the same tree; but those that

are torn away in their immaturity are regretted a hundred times more

than those which have bloomed their day, and the misfortune is the

greater.”

Independently of the reasons of state policy, which rendered

matrimonial alliances with the united royal houses of France and

Bretagne desirable, the princes of Europe were eager to secure consorts

from the nursery of the good Queen Claude, who was considered a model

of maternal wisdom and conjugal patience. Instead of exciting factions

by complaints of the neglect of her royal husband, and the insolent

treatment she experienced from his haughty mother, Louise of Savoy,

she bore her wrongs with unruffled equanimity, and exerted her queenly

influence only in the cause of virtue and religion. She sought and

found her best consolation for her matrimonial infelicity in the

performance of works of piety and charity, and devoting herself to the

education of her children, and the moral government of her household,

which was considered the most correct and best regulated of any court

in Europe.

Magdalene was unfortunately bereaved of her mother when only four years

old; but the first seeds of virtue had been implanted in her infant

bosom--the bias toward good had been given; and doubtless this early

and judicious training of the tender child in the right way was the

foundation of all the amiable qualities for which she was afterward

distinguished.[496]

Queen Claude died at Blois, on the 20th of July, 1524--a disastrous

year for the royal house of Valois, marked by the revolt of the

Constable Bourbon, and a combination of all the princes of Europe

against France. The death of Magdalene’s royal mother had been preceded

by a domestic conspiracy against King Francis, involving the intended

destruction of his posterity. Brion, one of the King’s personal

confidants, in his speech to the Parliament of Paris, announcing the

discovery of this treason, used the ludicrously chosen expression,

“that the traitors had intended to make minced pies of the royal

children of France.”[497]

In the autumn of the same year there was a proposal, at the suggestion

of the Regent Albany, who, though he had quitted Scotland, still had

considerable influence in the councils of that realm, for a renewal

of the ancient alliance with France, according to the articles of the

Treaty of Rouen. By one of these articles, Francis I. had engaged to

give his younger daughter, with a fair portion, to the young King of

Scots; and as that Princess was dead, it was now proposed that her

next sister, Magdalene, should take her place, with a French province

for her portion, and twenty thousand crowns per annum as a pension.

James V., who was thirteen years old, had, in the interim, received an

embassy from his uncle Henry VIII., offering to bestow the Lady Mary,

his only child, and at that time reputed the heiress of England, in

marriage--apparently a much more advantageous match, and more suitable

to him in age than the _petite Madame de France_.

Jehan de Plains, one of the envoys from the French court, writes

from Edinburgh “that the Scotch secretary of state boasts that the

King of England had offered his daughter to King James, and that for

the security of his person, if he would meet him at York, Henry had

proposed to give up six of the most considerable persons in England as

hostages.”[498] The droll blunder of the Scotch diplomatist, in having

used the term _gros personnages_ instead of _grand_--whereby

Henry appears to offer six of the fattest persons in England as

sureties for his good faith--is slyly recorded, but without comment, as

the ludicrousness of the equivoque speaks for itself.

The Queen-mother of Scotland, intent only on serving her own purposes,

encouraged both proposals, writing the most abject letters to her

brother Henry one day, expressive of her deep sense of the honor

proposed to her son, and the next to Francis, assuring him “of the

delight it would give her to see a union between their dear children.”

The proposed marriage with Magdalene de Valois was far more popular

with the people of Scotland than that with Mary Tudor; and while the

negotiation was pending, the citizens of Edinburgh lighted bonfires and

made public rejoicings for the capture of Milan by Francis I. in the

commencement of his Italian campaign,[499]--an ephemeral and deceitful

success, which was too quickly followed by the fatal battle of Pavia,

where the royal father of Magdalene was defeated with great loss, and

taken prisoner. This disastrous event occurred February 25, 1525.

Francis, who was severely wounded, announced the bitter tidings of his

calamity to his mother in an autograph letter, containing only these

memorable words,--“Madame, all is lost but honor”[500]--a sentence

not more characteristic of the spirit of that chivalric prince than

descriptive of the state of his realm. France was at that time in a

perilous position, convulsed by the base practices of traitors within,

and exposed to the attacks of powerful foes without.

The Imperial eagle, “with her two beaks, that she might the more

devour,” hovered over the long-contested duchy of Burgundy, and the

fair provinces of the south, on the one side; the lion of England was

in readiness to assert his dormant but unforgotten claims to Normandy

and Aquitaine, if not to the sovereignty itself, on the other; and even

the Switzer was contemplating the annexation of a territory beyond the

Alps.

The reins of government were in the hands of the most unpopular woman

in France--Louisa of Savoy. The army was destroyed; the nobility

dispirited by the loss of sons, brothers, or fathers; tears were in

all eyes, and gloomy presentiments in every heart. Among the few,

indeed, who were unconscious of the portentous aspect of the political

horizon, and insensible of the perils that threatened to lay the throne

of the Valois dynasty in the dust, were those whom it most deeply

concerned--the children of the captive representative of that royal

line.

One of the effects of the disastrous position of the fortunes of

Francis I. was the nullifying of the treaty for the projected marriage

between his daughter, Magdalene, and the young King of Scots. Up to

that moment Magdalene’s grandmother, Louisa of Savoy, had kept up an

affectionate correspondence with the Queen-mother of Scotland, for the

continuance of the Scotch alliance, and the future marriage of James V.

and the Princess Magdalene; and of such vital moment did it appear to

Louisa that she had actually agreed to allow Margaret Tudor, the said

Queen-mother, a pension of 40,000 crowns per annum, for her good-will

and assistance in this matter. Henry VIII., however, contrived to break

the treaty, by offering his daughter Mary as a consort for the young

James; and officially notifying to Louisa of Savoy, and her council of

regency, that unless the contract between the Princess Magdalene and

his nephew, the King of Scotland, were abandoned, he would withhold

his promised aid for the liberation of Francis I. Louisa reluctantly

yielded to the force of circumstances; and caused her secretary to

write a friendly letter to Queen Margaret, resigning Magdalene’s claims

to the hand of the King of Scotland, and signifying her acquiescence to

his union with Mary of England.[501]

To Magdalene, the loss of a doll would have appeared a far greater

misfortune than the matrimonial disappointment which her royal

sire’s calamity involved. She was at that painful epoch happy in the

cherishing care of her kind aunt, Margaret of Valois, the widowed

Duchess of Alençon, better known in history by her subsequent title of

Queen of Navarre. This accomplished princess, the only and tenderly

beloved sister of Francis I., took upon herself the nurture and

education of his motherless daughter, and more than supplied to her

the place of the maternal parent, of whom Magdalene had been so early

bereaved.

The mental powers of Margaret of Valois were, indeed, of a much

higher order than those of the deceased Queen. Her sister-in-law,

Claude, was a good woman, but Margaret was both good and great. Her

learning, her genius, and lofty grasp of intellect, rendered her the

most distinguished female of the age--an age which could boast of

the daughters of Sir Thomas More, of Vittoria Colonna, Katharine of

Aragon, and Katharine Parr. In the all-important matter of religion,

too, the change from Claude to Margaret was doubtless highly beneficial

to Magdalene; for Claude’s devotion to the practice and principles of

the Papal church amounted to superstition, but Margaret’s enlarged

mind made her a Christian of the church universal; and though she

departed not from the faith in which she had been educated, she

eschewed its abuses and exclusiveness. She raised her voice against

persecution, then the besetting sin of the monarchs of Christendom;

and she protected with her all-powerful influence the champions

of the Reformation.[502] The illustrious sister of Francis I. is

supposed to have imbued the mind of her royal niece with the same

liberal principles[503] that rendered herself the friend of religious

toleration, not from political motives, as the watchword of a party,

but on the divine grounds of Christian love and moral justice.

Alarming reports of the state of Francis’s health induced Margaret to

consign her young pupil to other care for two months, in order to pay

him a visit of sisterly sympathy and consolation. Francis was at that

time incarcerated in a gloomy fortress in Madrid, debarred from air

and exercise, hopeless of ever beholding his country or his children

again. After languishing for several months in that painful state of

“hope deferred which maketh the heart sick,” he was attacked with

fever, which threatened to terminate his imprisonment and his life

together. In this sad condition his faithful sister, on her arrival,

found him. Her indignant representations induced the Emperor to visit

his unfortunate captive. The company and tender attentions of his

beloved sister, who had brought him cheering tidings of the fair

promise of his children, contributed to restore Francis to health and

spirits. The clear-sighted Margaret, however, after she had conferred

with Bourbon, and visited the Emperor Charles at Toledo, perceived

that there was no real intention of releasing her brother, unless on

conditions derogatory to his honor as a gentleman, and his duty as

a sovereign. She therefore devised a plan for his escape, which, if

it had succeeded, would have completely outwitted the cold-hearted

imperial jailer. Margaret had made arrangements without the castle

which would have insured the success of her scheme, if an accidental

quarrel between his only two French attendants had not ended in one of

them, named Clermont Champion, betraying the project to the Emperor.

That prince intended to revenge himself on the fair deviser of the plot

by detaining her as a prisoner, the term of her safe-conduct having so

nearly expired that he judged it would be impossible for her to reach

France without its being renewed, which he had made up his mind to

refuse. Margaret, however, having timely notice of this unchivalric

design, left Madrid privately, and, traveling night and day, succeeded

in crossing the frontier of Navarre one hour before the expiration of

the time specified in her passport.[504]

Margaret sought consolation for her unsuccessful efforts for her royal

brother by resuming her maternal care of his young daughter, Magdalene.

Francis finally purchased his liberty at the price of subscribing a

most humiliating treaty, and giving up his two eldest sons, Francis the

Dauphin, and Henry, Duke of Orleans, as hostages for its performance.

Though Magdalene was too young to participate in the agitation and

anxiety which these eventful changes excited in the bosoms of those

nearest and dearest to her, the separation of her two elder brothers

from the infant royal circle, to be sent into the hostile land of

Spain, was a circumstance likely to fill her eyes with tears, and to

awaken strange and mysterious apprehensions for those loved companions

of her infant years. On the 18th of March 1526, Francis, escorted by

fifty Spanish officers, arrived at Fontarabia, on the banks of the

Bidassoa, which bounds the Spanish frontier, at the same moment that

his two boys appeared with a similar escort on the opposite bank,

under the charge of the Mareschal Lautrec. Both parties embarked

simultaneously, and met in a large barge, which was anchored for that

purpose in the center of the stream. There the exchange of the father

for the sons took place. Francis, who appeared afraid of trusting his

own feelings, folded his children together to his heart in a brief but

passionate embrace, blessed them, then breaking from their innocent

endearments, precipitated himself into the boat they had just quitted,

and in a few moments landed on the French shore. His horse being in

waiting for him, he mounted, and, waving his plumed cap above his head,

shouted “I am a King once more.”[505]

At Bayonne he was met and welcomed by his mother, his sister Margaret,

and his children, of whom Magdalene and an infant prince and princess,

both younger than she, were all that now remained to Francis of his

once numerous and promising family--at least in France, for the Dauphin

and the little Duke of Orleans were now both in the possession of

the Emperor. Regardless of the peril in which he was involving his

princely boys, Francis violated the treaty for the performance of

which they were the hostages, and the war was resumed with redoubled

fury. Reproaches, revilings, and defiances to decide the quarrel by

single combat, were exchanged between him and the Emperor; till at

last, finding it impossible to agree even as to the time and place of

a personal encounter, they wisely referred their differences to female

arbitration. Francis named his mother, Louisa of Savoy, Duchess of

Angoulême, and Charles his aunt Margaret, Governess of the Netherlands,

as their respective plenipotentiaries. These Princesses, neither of

whom were celebrated for dove-like attributes, met at Cambray, and

astonished all the statesmen and ecclesiastics of Europe by arranging

between the bellicose rivals an amicable treaty, which, in memory

of their mediation, was called the Ladies’ Peace. Francis agreed to

complete his marriage with Charles’s sister, the Queen-Dowager of

Portugal; and Charles to restore the sons of Francis, on condition of

being paid two millions of crowns as their ransom. This peace, which

gave a step-mother to Magdalene, was proclaimed in the autumn of 1529.

Hitherto Magdalene had resided with her aunt, Margaret of Valois,

who had contracted a second marriage with Henry d’Albret, King of

Navarre, and whose court was the resort of all that was brilliant and

intellectual. Anne Boleyn was one of Margaret’s ladies, at the very

time Magdalene was under the care of that accomplished Princess;[506]

and though the great difference in age probably prevented any thing

like friendship, they were certainly domesticated together for several

years. Their acquaintance was thus necessarily of very early date,

yet there was no similarity in manners or character between the young

French Princess and the lively English maid of honor. The premature

deaths of her mother and two elder sisters, combined with her own

peculiar delicacy of constitution, had impressed Magdalene with the

salutary conviction of the uncertainty of human life: the captivity of

her royal father and brothers had shown her enough of the vicissitudes

of fortune to induce habits of reflection even in childhood, and she is

said to have been pensive and sensitive beyond her years.

Magdalene, after her father’s second marriage, resided with his Queen,

Eleanora of Austria, who proved a kind step-mother; and though

she never succeeded in winning the love of her faithless lord, who

probably could not forgive her for being the sister of his enemy, she

conciliated the affections of his children.

There was an attempt in the spring of 1531, on the part of James V. of

Scotland, to renew his suit for the hand of Magdalene, by sending James

Hay, Bishop of Ross, and Master Thomas Erskine, Secretary of State,

ambassadors to France, March 26th, for treating of marriage, says the

cotemporary Scotch authority, “betwixt our King’s Grace and the said

King of France’s dochter.”[507] Magdalene was, however, too young at

that period to be betrothed to her royal suitor.

On the 22d of September, the same year, died Magdalene’s grandmother,

Louisa of Savoy, Duchess of Angoulême. It was fortunate for Magdalene

that she was educated by her noble-minded aunt, instead of being

brought up under the influence of a princess of the vindictive temper

and inconsistent conduct of her grandmother, who, while she scrupled

not to kindle the fires of persecution against the Reformers, under

the pretext of zeal for the Church, was in the practice of habitual

disobedience to its prohibition against unhallowed attempts to pry into

futurity.

James renewed his suit for the hand of Magdalene by his ambassadors in

the spring of 1533, the Princess being then in her thirteenth year.

Francis replied very affectionately by letter, expressing the pleasure

and satisfaction it would afford him to complete the ancient bond of

alliance between himself and the King of Scotland by this marriage.

“Provided,” writes he to the latter, “you shall think good to wait till

such time as our very dear and well-beloved daughter Magdalene be of

sufficient age to complete the said matrimony now contracted between

you; but if, in the mean time, either you or your subjects should think

such delay injurious to your realm, then we will give you the choice

among all our nearest relations, or any other match in our dominions,

for a consort, promising to give such lady the rank of a daughter of

our own, and to endow her suitably.”[508]

Lives of the queens of Scotland and English princesses connected with the regal succession of Great Britain, vol. 1 · 第 6 / 9 章