CHAPTER IV.

JAMES V. AND MARY.

James V. in an especial sense belongs to Stirling Castle. True,

Linlithgow was his birthplace, but he was brought at a tender age to

Stirling, and although much of his early life was spent in Edinburgh

Castle, he seems to have regarded ancient Snowdon as his favourite

place of residence. It was usually from Stirling that James travelled

in disguise to make himself acquainted with the habits of his people

and to hear the complaints of his peasant subjects. The name “Gudeman

o’ Ballengeich,” by which he chose to be called on those occasions,

was a designation taken from a hollow or pass that separates the Gowan

Hills from the castle rock of Stirling.

To this stronghold, which was her dower-house, Queen Margaret retired

with her infant son after the battle of Flodden. Here in April, 1514,

was born Alexander, Duke of Ross, James IV.’s posthumous son, a child

that died in the castle of his birth less than two years later. When

the Queen-Mother took the impolitic step of marrying the powerful

young Earl of Angus in August, 1514, she made almost inevitable the

loss of her position as Regent and as guardian of her sons. The Duke

of Albany was summoned from France to rule in the land of his fathers,

and although Margaret and her brother, King Henry of England, did all

in their power to prevent his arrival, he landed in Scotland in 1515.

Directly after his elevation to the Regency, Albany sent commissioners

to Stirling for the purpose of compelling the Queen to deliver up her

sons. Margaret met the nobles in the gateway of the castle; her hand

was clasped in that of the young King, while a nurse stood behind

bearing the infant Duke of Ross. The Queen commanded the intruders

to halt until they should explain the nature of their mission. On

hearing that they came to take over the custody of her sons, Margaret

ordered the warder to drop the portcullis, and from behind its bars she

delivered a speech justifying her conduct in refusing to surrender the

castle. It is pleasant to record this dramatic incident in the life of

James IV.’s widow, for the bold Tudor spirit displayed on this occasion

shows that the character of the Queen-Mother was not entirely ignoble.

[Illustration: JAMES IV.’S GATEWAY (WHERE MARGARET TUDOR DEFIED THE

COMMISSIONERS).]

The defiance of his authority brought Albany with an armed force from

Edinburgh. The Queen, therefore, realising the hopelessness of the

situation, led the boy King to the gate, and made him with his own

hands deliver the keys of the castle to the Duke. The Regent garrisoned

the fortress with one hundred and forty men, and gave the charge of

it, with the custody of the princes, to the Earl Marischal and Lords

Fleming and Borthwick.[29] Queen Margaret, after a brief stay in

Edinburgh, returned to her native land, but finding it impossible to

relinquish Scottish politics, she recrossed the Border in 1517. Her

most memorable residence in Stirling Castle after her reappearance was

during the winter of 1522-3, when an attack of smallpox injured her

beauty and nearly put an end to her inglorious career.

In 1522 the boy James V. was placed under the care of Lord Erskine, who

at the same time received the appointment of keeper of Stirling Castle.

Strict precautions were taken to prevent the young monarch from being

seized and carried off like his great-grandfather, James II. Twenty

footmen were commissioned to be the nightly watch, taking turn by fours

to guard the door of the royal chamber; and when the King rode out to

the park he was to be preceded by six or eight horsemen and accompanied

by a bodyguard. Only in “right fair and soft weather” was James to be

allowed to take his sport.[30]

The King was thought to be old enough in 1524 to do without Lord

Erskine’s guidance. Margaret, consequently, took her son from Stirling

to Edinburgh, where the nobles acknowledged the lad as an independent

sovereign. His enjoyment of freedom did not last long, however, for in

1525 the Earl of Angus asserted himself, and by obtaining possession

of the person of the King ruled the country for several years in his

own and the English monarch’s interests. Two unsuccessful attempts were

made to rescue James from the Douglases’ guardianship, but in 1528 he

escaped to Stirling Castle by night, most probably from Falkland, as

Pitscottie has it, although some have thought that the flight must have

been from Edinburgh. The ambitious family was now to suffer for its

insolent treatment of the King. Sentence of forfeiture was passed on

the leading members of the house, and although Angus was for some time

able to set his sovereign at defiance, he was at length compelled to

retire for safety to England.

Archibald of Kilspindie was a Douglas who suffered banishment when

his kinsmen fell into disgrace. Tiring of an exile’s life in England,

however, he resolved to throw himself on James’s clemency. In 1534,

accordingly, he made his way to Stirling, where he waited in the Royal

Park as the King was returning from the chase. The monarch recognised

the powerful figure of his old acquaintance, but did not stop to favour

him with so much as a look of acknowledgment. Kilspindie ran by the

side of the King, keeping pace with the horse up the hill towards the

castle, but when they came to the entrance James rode straight on,

leaving the breathless Douglas at the gate. The unhappy man’s desire to

spend his remaining years in Scotland was not fulfilled, for the King

first sent him to Leith with Robert Barton, and afterwards commanded

him to cross the sea to France.[31]

As in the previous reign, a distinguished ambassador from Henry VIII.

visited the Court at Stirling. The messenger on this occasion was

Lord William Howard, whose purpose in 1536 was to induce the Scottish

King to meet his royal uncle in England. James’s excuses seemed to

irritate the English envoy, whose audacity and plainness of speech

amounted almost to discourtesy. The King, at any rate, warned by his

Council, would not promise to accede to Henry’s wish; for his capture

or some such calamitous occurrence was an event to be expected from the

treacherous Tudor monarch.

Mary of Guise, James’s second wife, as she journeyed from Fife to

Edinburgh soon after her landing at Crail, crossed the Forth at

Stirling, and beheld for the first time the towers of the castle in

which she was afterwards to spend so many days. At this date the

building known as the Palace was probably not completed, but nearly a

year later, in the spring of 1539, when James V. came with his jousting

gear to Stirling, he and his Consort may have lodged in the Renaissance

addition, although it was still unfinished in 1541. The daughter of the

first Duke of Guise took kindly to her adopted country and its people,

and although in the years of her Regency, while Mary, her child, was in

France, she underestimated the strength of the Reformation movement,

and ruled mainly in the interests of her ambitious brothers, she

nevertheless became a Scotswoman in sympathy, and learned to converse

in the northern tongue as fluently as in French.

It was in James V.’s reign that the Reformation movement made itself

manifest in Scotland. The King, not without hesitation, kept true

to the Church of Rome, but his subjects were becoming increasingly

dissatisfied with the ecclesiastical situation. Amongst the clergy

themselves heretical doctrines were rapidly finding favour. Towards

the close of James’s life a Friar named Kyllour, or Keillor, set forth

Christ’s Crucifixion in the form of a play, and attracted large

crowds at Stirling. One Good Friday morning the King was present at

a performance held not far from the castle, and although the Friar’s

earnestness roused the wrath of the greater part of the audience

against the bishops, and provoked at the same time the indignation of

such priests as were present, James retired to his palace at the end of

the display without showing whether his sympathies lay on the side of

Friar Keillor or on that of the orthodox clergy.[32]

Many tales of James V.’s adventures in disguise must at one time have

been current in the neighbourhood of Stirling, but unfortunately most

of them have passed beyond recall. One story concerning the Gudeman

of Ballengeich runs, however, as follows: Once when the Court was

in residence at Stirling Buchanan of Arnprior commanded a carrier,

who was journeying from the Lennox with commodities for the royal

household, to leave him the entire load, for which a just price would

be given. On the servant’s refusing to obey this order Buchanan boldly

took possession of the goods, telling the carrier that James might

be King in Scotland but that Arnprior was King in Kippen. A day or

two later His Majesty rode with one or two attendants to Buchanan’s

house in Kippen. James was refused admittance by a tall man bearing a

battleaxe, who announced that the laird was at dinner, and would not

be disturbed at his meal. A second time the disguised monarch demanded

access to the house, and again he was denied entrance, but at length

he persuaded the porter to carry in a message to the effect that the

Gudeman o’ Ballengeich was desirous of an interview with the King of

Kippen. Arnprior at once guessed the truth, and coming out humbly

to the King, begged him to enter and grace his subject’s board. So

well was James entertained that, before returning home, he requested

Buchanan to take in future such provision as he should need from any

royal carrier passing his door; also he invited the King of Kippen to

return the unexpected visit by riding to Stirling Castle to see his

neighbour, the King of Scots.

[Illustration: THE PASS OF BALLENGEICH.]

A few days before the death of James at Falkland his daughter Mary was

born at Linlithgow in December, 1542. The Earl of Arran was appointed

Governor of the realm; but in July, 1543, his rival, Cardinal Beaton,

rode from Stirling with the Earls of Lennox, Argyll and Huntly, at the

head of several thousand men, in order to secure the person of the

Queen. Arran, reckoning the troops at his disposal insufficient to

enable him to frustrate their designs, sent messengers to treat for

peace, and allowed the infant Mary and her mother to be carried

to Stirling Castle. The two Queens were placed in the charge of four

nobles, the chief of whom was John, Lord Erskine, the constable of

the fortress. On the 9th of September the young Queen of Scots was

crowned in the castle, the Earls of Arran and Lennox taking part in the

ceremony “with such solemnity,” wrote Sadler, the English envoy, “as

they do use in this country, which is not very costly.” The solemnity,

however, was costly enough to make the unconscious child a crowned

Queen, and to give her a high position among European princes, also to

stir up strife among the nations and to lead to the grim tragedy of

Fotheringay Castle.

For the next four years--save for a short time at Dunkeld during

Hertford’s expedition--the little Queen was carefully guarded in

Stirling: a fortress further than Edinburgh from the greedy hand of

Henry VIII. The English monarch had set his heart on wedding his son to

Mary of Scotland, but he alienated the people of the northern kingdom

by trying to coerce them into submission to his will. During these

years the Queen-Mother at the castle kept in touch with the politics of

the day. Here she received the joyful news of the Scottish victory of

Ancrum Moor in 1545. Later she welcomed Lorges de Montgomery, who came

with money and soldiers from France. In September, 1547, Arran rode in

haste to the castle bearing the depressing tidings of the defeat and

slaughter at Pinkie Cleuch. After this disaster even Stirling Castle

was considered hardly a safe enough abode for the youthful sovereign

of Scotland, so without delay she was conveyed to Inchmahome, an

island priory in the Lake of Menteith. When the immediate danger was

past the precious royal child was carried back to Stirling, before

being removed to the fortress of Dumbarton, whence a few months later

she set sail for the friendly realm of France. After her daughter’s

departure from Scotland Mary of Guise was often at Stirling, but she

did not survive to welcome the young Queen home when she returned a

girl widow in 1561. The battery at the south-east corner of the castle,

overlooking Ballengeich, is known as the Spur or French Battery, the

latter name recalling foreign workmen of Mary of Guise, who caused

this fortification to be made at the time of the French occupation

of Stirling during the religious dissension called the Wars of the

Congregation.

After her return to the land of her fathers Queen Mary made Holyrood

her principal seat. She sometimes, however, removed to the castle that

had been the home of her early youth, finding it a useful halting-place

on her journeys to and from the north. In September, 1561, she

narrowly escaped being burnt in the Palace. One night as she slept

the candle which had been left alight set fire to the curtains of

her bed, and although the Queen was rescued from the flames, she was

almost overpowered by the smoke. An old prophecy that a queen should

be burnt at Stirling came near to being fulfilled.[33] Mary’s short

stay in the castle at this time was marked by another disturbance. On

her chaplains’ attempting to sing High Mass, her half-brother, Lord

James, and the Earl of Argyll, in their zeal for the Protestant cause,

attacked the priests and singers with such fury that blood was actually

shed in the Chapel Royal. Some of those who witnessed the scuffle

regarded it as an amusing entertainment; others, however, took it more

to heart, and gave way to tears instead of laughter.[34]

The Queen’s visit to Stirling in 1565 was of longer duration than

usual. The cause of her protracted sojourn was the illness of Henry

Stewart, Lord Darnley, to whom at this time she was passionately

attached. This young Anglo-Scottish nobleman had recently come from

Elizabeth’s Court, and was confined to bed in Stirling Castle with

an illness which developed into measles.[35] Throughout the months

of April and May the Queen kept watch by the bedside of her lover,

refusing to travel until he had recovered, and paying no heed to the

danger of infection.

The royal marriage was celebrated at Holyrood in July, 1565, and in

June of the following year Prince James was born in Edinburgh Castle.

Two months later the infant heir was removed for greater safety to

Stirling, the fortress that had sheltered his mother some twenty

years before. Towards the end of the year Queen Mary followed her son

to the castle, where elaborate preparations were being made for the

infant’s baptism and for the reception of the foreign ambassadors.

Care was taken on this occasion that no Englishman should have reason

to remark that “the solemnity was not very costly,” for the Estates

made a grant of twelve thousand pounds Scots to meet the expenses of

the visitors’ entertainment. The Prince’s godmother, Queen Elizabeth,

sent the Earl of Bedford with a massive golden font; the Count of

Brienne, representing Charles IX. of France, brought a pair of earrings

and a necklace to the Queen; Morette, the Duke of Savoy’s ambassador,

who arrived too late for the ceremony, presented to Mary a handsome

jewelled fan. On the late afternoon of the 17th of December, 1566,

the six months old child was baptised in the Chapel Royal. Barons

and gentlemen bearing torches lined the way from the nursery to the

Chapel door, where the Prince was received by the Archbishop of St.

Andrews and the Bishops of Dunkeld, Dunblane and Ross. The christening

service was performed according to the rites of the Church of Rome,

although the ceremony of the spittle was omitted at the express command

of the Queen. The child was given the names of James and Charles, the

former in commemoration of his Scottish ancestors, the latter as a

compliment to the Most Christian King of France. The Earl of Bedford

and the Scottish Protestant Lords--including Bothwell, who had been

appointed superintendent of arrangements--stood outside the building

while the Romish service lasted; but the Countess of Argyll, although

a Protestant, held the royal infant up to the font. At the conclusion

of the ceremony the company adjourned to supper, the remainder of the

evening being spent in dancing and music.

The festivities in connection with James’s baptism were not confined to

the christening day. On the 19th of December the Queen held a banquet

in honour of her distinguished guests, and after the party had risen

from the table a display of fireworks was given. Later in the evening

Mary created her son Prince of Scotland, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of

Carrick, Kyle and Cunningham, and Baron of Renfrew.[36] In spite of the

appearance of gaiety, however, all was not well at Court. Darnley,

although residing in the castle, refused to be present at the baptism

of his son and at the social functions that followed. By this time the

Queen and he were completely estranged. His own selfish and disgraceful

conduct had caused her to regard him with loathing, and her increasing

interest in Bothwell aroused her husband’s jealousy and led to his

sulky behaviour. The Queen made an effort to seem joyous to her guests,

but her heart was all the time heavy with trouble: Du Croc, the French

ambassador, found her weeping in her chamber, suffering both mental and

bodily pain.[37]

Sir James Melville also has placed it on record that at this time of

gaiety Mary was in deep distress. She was sad and pensive, he said,

and she continually gave great sighs; but few of those who were with

her at the castle were able to extend to her the sympathy she needed.

Melville, however, seems to have been a person in whom the Queen could

confide. One evening, shortly before the baptism, she took him by the

hand and led him down to the Royal Park, where they could discuss the

troubles of the state without being interrupted by the mockery of

Court festivities. After humbly proffering his advice and endeavouring

to lighten her burden of sorrow, he escorted her back to the castle

through the steep streets of the town.[38]

A source of unpleasantness on the evening of the banquet was the masque

arranged by the Frenchman, Bastien. A number of men dressed as satyrs,

entered the hall as the meat was being served, and seizing the long

tails with which they had been furnished, wagged them in front of the

English guests. It was an ancient jest among the Scots that their

southern neighbours had tails, so whether Bastien intended to give

offence or not, the Englishmen present felt highly insulted.[39] The

angry voices behind her back attracted the Queen’s attention. Instantly

perceiving the cause of the uproar, she rose from her seat and

addressed the unruly company, and so with the assistance of the Earl of

Bedford she succeeded in putting an end to the tumult.

Mary remained at Stirling after the ambassadors had gone, but in the

dismal weather of the middle of January she departed with her son for

the capital.[40] Two months afterwards the Prince was carried back to

Stirling Castle by the Earls of Huntly and Argyll, and placed in the

charge of John, Lord Erskine, by this time Earl of Mar.[41] Meanwhile

Darnley had perished at Kirk-of-Field, and Bothwell was plotting for

his marriage with the Queen. Shortly before the consummation of that

union, Mary paid her last visit to Stirling. She came with the natural

desire to see her son and possibly with the object of removing him from

the castle. The child, however, remained in the faithful hands of Mar,

and in a few days the Queen, on her homeward journey, was intercepted

and carried off by Bothwell. The marriage was celebrated in Holyrood

Palace in May, 1567; but the ambitious and unscrupulous nobleman, not

satisfied with being the husband of his sovereign, sought to gain

possession of the person of the Prince, in order, as Sir James Melville

says, to “warrant him fra revenging of his father’s death.” Mar,

however, distrusting the Queen and regarding Bothwell as a murderer,

refused to allow the Prince of Scotland to pass into even his own

mother’s keeping.

The Stewarts were an unhappy race, but James V. and Mary had the

saddest lives of all. He was gifted with a joyous nature and a genuine

love of justice, and yet when only thirty years old he died of a broken

heart. She was endowed with beauty, vivacity, generosity and courage,

but these brought her sorrow, captivity and death. The national

disaster at Flodden Field was to a great extent responsible for those

unhappy reigns. The country was crippled by the heavy blow and was

more at the mercy of the English Crown than in the days of the early

Stewarts. This was especially the case in James V.’s time, for his

weariness of life was chiefly due to despair of being able to combat

Henry’s schemes.

The defeat had another effect, however, which gave rise to the troubles

of Mary’s reign. Almost all the nobles of Scotland fell with their King

in battle, leaving, in many cases, minors to succeed. Consequently,

the government passed into the hands of the prelates, who were mostly,

at this time, men of low moral character and of selfish worldly aims.

Moreover, the Regent Albany, in order to avert civil strife, filled the

wealthy benefices with members of influential families. Thus the clergy

grew more and more corrupt, and a Reformation became a necessity. The

revolution did not break out in James V.’s days, mainly on account of

that monarch’s alliance with France and his distrust of his English

uncle; but it accomplished its work with greater thoroughness because

of its postponement, and directly after the change had been wrought,

Queen Mary returned to Scotland. Yet had Flodden and Pinkie not been

lost, the Queen in all likelihood would not have been sent to France

to be reared at the Court of Catharine de’ Medici and trained by the

fiercely orthodox Guises, and Scotland might have been ruled by a

sovereign who had not been educated in a form of faith that had become

obnoxious to the majority of her subjects.

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