Lang Andrew
The Mystery of Mary Stuart
IX
THE EMERGENCE OF THE CASKET LETTERS
I. First hints of the existence of the letters
The Lords, as we have seen, nominally rose in arms to punish Bothwell (whom they had acquitted), to protect their infant Prince, and to rescue Mary, whom they represented as Bothwell’s reluctant captive. Yet their first success, at Carberry Hill, induced them, not to make Bothwell prisoner, but to give him facilities of escape. Their second proceeding was, not to release Mary, but to expose her to the insults of the populace, and then to immure her, destitute and desperate, in the island fortress of the Douglases.
These contradictions between their conduct and their avowed intentions needed excuse. They could not say, ‘We let Bothwell escape because he knew too much about ourselves: we imprisoned the Queen for the same good reason.’ They had to protect themselves, first against Elizabeth, who bitterly resented the idea that subjects might judge princes: next, against the possible anger of the rulers of France and Spain; next, against the pity of the mobile populace. There was also a chance that Moray, who was hastening home from France, might espouse his sister’s cause, as, indeed, at this moment he professed to do. Finally, in the changes of things, Mary, or her son, might recover power, and exact vengeance for the treasonable imprisonment of a Queen.
The Lords, therefore, first excused themselves (as in Lethington’s discourses with du Croc) by alleging that Mary refused to abandon Bothwell. This was, no doubt, true, though we cannot accept Lethington’s word for the details of her passionate behaviour. Her defenders can fall back on the report of Drury, that she was at this time with child, as she herself informed Throckmorton, while Nau declares that, in Loch Leven, she prematurely gave birth to twins. Mary always had a plausible and possible excuse: in this case she could not dissolve her marriage with Bothwell without destroying the legitimacy of her expected offspring. Later, in 1569, when she wished her marriage with Bothwell to be annulled, the Lords refused assent. In the present juncture, of June, 1567, with their Queen a captive in their hands, the Lords needed some better excuse than her obstinate adherence to the husband whom they had selected for her. They needed a reason for their conduct that would have a retro-active effect: namely, positive proof of her guilt of murder.
No sooner was the proof wanted than it was found. Mary was imprisoned on June 16: her guilty letters to Bothwell, the Casket Letters, with their instigations to Darnley’s murder and her own abduction, were secured on June 20, and were inspected, and entrusted to Morton’s keeping, on June 21. To Morton’s declaration about the discovery and inspection of the Casket and Letters, we return in chronological order: it was made in December, 1568, before the English Commissioners who examined Mary’s case.
The Lords were now, with these letters to justify them, in a relatively secure position. They could, and did, play off France against England: both of these countries were anxious to secure the person of the baby Prince, both were obliged to treat with the Lords who had the alliance of Scotland to bestow. Elizabeth wavered between her desire, as a Queen, to help a sister Queen, and her anxiety not to break with the dominant Scottish party. The Lords had hanged a retainer of Bothwell, Blackader, taken after Carberry, who denied his guilt, and against whom nothing was proved: but he had a Lennox jury. Two other underlings of Bothwell, his porter Powrie and his ‘chamber-child’ Dalgleish, were taken and examined, but their depositions, as reported by the Lords themselves, neither implicated Mary, nor threw any light on the date at which the idea of an explosion was conceived. It was then believed to have been projected before Mary went to bring Darnley from Glasgow. This opinion reflected itself in what was conceivably the earlier forged draft, never publicly produced, of the long ‘Glasgow Letter’ (II.) Later information may have caused that long letter to be modified into its present shape, or, as probably, induced the Lords to fall back on a partly genuine letter, our Letter II.
The Lords did by no means make public use, at first, of the Letters which they had found, and were possibly garbling. We shall later make it clear, it is a new point, that, on the very day of the reading, the Lords sent Robert Melville post haste to Elizabeth, doubtless with verbal information about their discovery. Leaving Edinburgh on June 21, the day of the discovery, Melville was in London on June 23 or 24, dispatched his business, and was in Berwick again on June 28. He carried letters for Moray in France, but, for some reason, perhaps because the letters were delayed or intercepted, Moray had to be summoned again. Meanwhile the Lords, otherwise, kept their own counsel.[212] For reasons of policy they let their good fortune ooze out by degrees.
On June 25, Drury, writing from Berwick, reports that ‘the Queen has had a box,’ containing papers about her intrigues with France. ‘It is promised Drury to have his part of it.’ This rumour of a ‘box’ may refer to the capture of the Casket.[213] On June 29, Drury again wrote about the ‘box,’ and the MSS. in it, ‘part in cipher deciphered.’ Whether this ‘box’ was the Casket, a false account of its contents being given to Drury, is uncertain. We hear no more of it, nor of any of Mary’s own papers and letters to her: no letters to her from Bothwell are reported.
The earliest known decided reference to the Letters is that of the Spanish Ambassador, de Silva, writing from London on July 12, 1567. He says that du Croc, the French Ambassador to Mary, has passed through town on his return from Scotland. The French Ambassador in London, La Forest, reports to de Silva that Mary’s ‘adversaries assert positively that they know she had been concerned in the murder of her husband, which was proved by letters under her own hand, copies of which were in his [whose?] possession.’[214] Major Martin Hume writes, in his Preface to the Calendar, ‘The many arguments against their genuineness, founded upon the long delay in their production, thus disappear.’
It does not necessarily follow, however, that the letters of which du Croc probably carried copies (unless La Forest merely bragged falsely, to vex his Spanish fellow diplomatist) were either wholly genuine, or were identical with the letters later produced. It is by no means certain that Lethington and Sir James Balfour had not access, before June 21, to the Casket, which was in Balfour’s keeping, within Edinburgh Castle. Randolph later wrote (as we have already seen) that the pair had opened a little ‘coffer,’ with a green cloth cover, and taken out the band (which the pair had signed) for Darnley’s murder.[215] Whether the Casket was thus early tampered with is uncertain. But, as to du Croc’s copies of the Letters, the strong point, for the accusers, is, that, when the Letters were published, in Scots, Latin, and French, four years later, we do not hear that any holders of du Croc’s copies made any stir, or alleged that the copies did not tally with those now printed, in 1571-1573, by Mary’s enemies. This point must be kept steadily in mind, as it is perhaps the chief objection to the theory which we are about to offer. But, on November 29, 1568, when Mary’s accusers were gathered in London to attack her at the Westminster Conference, La Forest’s successor, La Mothe Fénelon, writes to Charles IX. that they pretend to possess incriminating letters ‘escriptes et signées de sa main;’ written and signed by her hand. Our copies are certainly not signed, which, in itself, proves little or nothing, but Mary’s contemporary defenders, Lesley and Blackwood, urge that there was not even a pretence that the Letters were signed, and this plea of theirs was not answered.
My point, however, is that though La Forest, according to de Silva, had copies in July 1567, his successor at the English Court, doubtless well instructed, knows nothing about them, as far as his despatch shows. But he does say that the accusers are in search of evidence to prove the Letters authentic, not forged.[216] He says (November 28) to Catherine de’ Medici, that he thinks the proofs of Mary’s accusers ‘very slender and extremely impertinent,’ and he has been consulted by Mary’s Commissioners.[217]
Of course it is possible that La Mothe Fénelon was not made acquainted with what his predecessor, La Forest, knew: but this course of secretiveness would not have been judicious. For the rest, the Court of France was not in the habit of replying to pamphlets, like that which contained copies of the Letters. It is unlikely that the copies given to La Forest were destroyed, but we have no hint or trace of them in France. Conceivably even if they differed (as we are to argue that they perhaps did) from the Letters later produced, the differences, though proof of tampering, did not redound to Mary’s glory. At the time when France was negotiating Alençon’s marriage with Elizabeth, and a Franco-English alliance (January-July, 1572), in a wild maze of international, personal, and religious intrigue, while Catherine de’ Medici was wavering between massacre of the Huguenots and alliance with them, it is far from inconceivable that La Forest’s copies of the Letters were either overlooked, or not critically and studiously compared with the copies now published. To vex Elizabeth by criticism of two sets of copies of Letters was certainly not then the obvious policy of France: though the published Letters were thrust on the French statesmen.
The letters of La Mothe Fénelon, and of Charles IX., on the subject of Buchanan’s ‘Detection,’ contain no hint that they thought the Letters, therein published, spurious. They only resent their publication against a crowned Queen.[218] The reader, then, must decide for himself whether La Forest’s copies, if extant, were likely to be critically scanned and compared with the published Letters, in 1571, or in the imbroglio of 1572; and whether it is likely that, if this was done, and if the two copies did not tally, French statesmen thought that, in the circumstances, when Elizabeth was to be propitiated, and the Huguenots were not to be offended, it was worth while to raise a critical question. If any one thinks that this course of conduct – the critical comparison of La Forest’s copies with the published copies, and the remonstrance founded on any discrepancies detected – was the natural inevitable course of French statecraft, at the juncture – then he must discredit my hypothesis. For my hypothesis is, that the Letters extant in June and July, 1567, were not wholly identical with the Letters produced in December, 1568, and later published. It is hazarded without much confidence, but certain circumstances suggest that it may possibly be correct.
To return to the management of the Letters in June-July, 1567. The Lords, Mary’s enemies, while perpetually protesting their extreme reluctance to publish Letters to Mary’s discredit, had now sent the rumour of them all through Europe. Spain, and de Silva, were at that time far from friendly to Mary. On July 21, 1567, de Silva writes: ‘I mentioned to the Queen [Elizabeth] that I had been told that the Lords held certain letters proving that the Queen [Mary] had been cognisant of the murder of her husband.’ (The Letters, if they prove anything, prove more than that.) ‘She told me it was not true, although Lethington had acted badly in the matter, and if she saw him she would say something that would not be at all to his taste.’ Thus Elizabeth had heard the story about Letters (from Robert Melville, as we indicate later?) and – what had she heard about Lethington?[219] On June 21, the very day of the first inspection of the Letters, Lethington had written to Cecil.[220] On June 28, Lethington tells Cecil that, by Robert Melville’s letters, he understands Cecil’s ‘good acceptance of these noblemen’s quarrel’ for punishment of Darnley’s murder and preservation of the Prince, ‘and her Majesty’s’ (Elizabeth’s) ‘gentle answer by Cecil’s furtherance.’[221] Yet, to de Silva, Elizabeth presently denounced the ill behaviour of Lethington in the matter, and, appearing to desire Mary’s safety, she sent Throckmorton to act in her cause. To the Lords and Lethington, by Robert Melville, she sent a gentle answer: Melville acting for the Lords. To Mary she averred (June 30) that Melville ‘used much earnest speech on your behalf’ (probably accusing Lethington of fraud as to the Letters), ‘yet such is the general report of you to the contrary … that we could not be satisfied by him.’[222] Melville, we must remember, was acting for the Lords, but he is described as ‘heart and soul Mary’s.’ He carried the Lords’ verbal report of the Letters – but he also discredited it, blaming Lethington. Why did he not do so publicly? At the time it was unsafe: later he and Lethington were allies in the last stand of Mary’s party.
We do not know how much Elizabeth knew, or had been told; or how much she believed, or what she meant, by her denunciation of Lethington, as regards his conduct in the affair of the Letters. But we do know that, on June 30, the Lords gave the lie, as in later proclamations they repeatedly did, to their own story that they had learned the whole secret of Mary’s guilt on June 21. On June 30, they issued, under Mary’s name, and under her signet, a summons against Bothwell, for Darnley’s murder, and ‘for taking the Queen’s most noble person by force to her Castle of Dunbar, detaining her, and for fear of her life making her promise to marry him.’[223] The Lords of Council in Edinburgh, at this time, were Morton (confessedly privy to the murder, and confessedly banded with Bothwell to enable him to marry Mary), Lethington, a signer of the band for Darnley’s murder; Balfour, who knew all; Atholl, Home, James Makgill, and the Justice Clerk, Bellenden – who had been in trouble for Riccio’s murder.[224] The same men, several guilty, were spreading privately the rumour of Mary’s wicked Letters: and, at the same hour, were publicly absolving her, in their summons to Bothwell. As late as July 14, they spoke to Throckmorton of Mary, ‘with respect and reverence,’ while alleging that ‘for the Lord Bothwell she would leave her kingdom and dignity to live as a simple damsel with him.’ Who can believe one word that such men spoke?
They assured Throckmorton that du Croc ‘carried with him matter little to the Queen’s’ (Mary’s) ‘advantage:’ possibly, though not certainly, an allusion to his copies of the Letters of her whom they spoke of ‘with respect and reverence,’ and promised ‘to restore to her estate’ – if she would abandon Bothwell.[225]
‘I never saw greater confusion among men,’ says Throckmorton, ‘for often they change their opinions.’ They were engaged in ‘continual preaching and common prayer.’ On July 21, they assured Elizabeth that Mary was forced to be Bothwell’s wife ‘by fear and other unlawful means,’ and that he kept his former wife in his house, and would not have allowed Mary to live with him for half a year. Yet Mary was so infatuated that, after her surrender, ‘he offered to give up realm and all, so she might enjoy him.’ This formula, we shall see later, the Lords placed thrice in Mary’s mouth, first in a reported letter of January, 1567 (never produced), next in a letter of Kirkcaldy to Cecil (April 20), and now (July 21).[226]
At this time of Throckmorton’s mission, Lethington posed to him thus. ‘Do you not see that it does not lie in my power to do that I would fainest do, which is to save the Queen, my mistress, in estate, person, and in honour?’ He declared that the preachers, the populace, and the chief nobles wished to take Mary’s life.[227] Lethington thus drove his bargain with Throckmorton. ‘If Elizabeth interferes,’ he said in sum, ‘Mary dies, despite my poor efforts, and Elizabeth loses the Scottish Alliance.’ But Throckmorton believed that Lethington really laboured to secure Mary’s life and honour. His true object was to keep her immured. Randolph, as we saw, accuses him to his face of advising Mary’s execution, or assassination. By his present course with Throckmorton he kept Elizabeth’s favour: he gave himself out as Mary’s friend.
The Lords at last made up their minds. On July 25, Lindsay was sent to Loch Leven to extort Mary’s abdication, consent to the coronation of her son, and appointment of Moray, or failing him, other nobles, to the Regency. ‘If they cannot by fair means induce the Queen to their purpose, they mean to charge her with tyranny for breach of those statutes which were enacted in her absence. Secondly they mean to charge her with incontinence with Bothwell, and others. Thirdly, they mean to charge her with the murder of her husband, whereof they say they have proof by the testimony of her own handwriting, which they have recovered, as also by sufficient witnesses.’ The witnesses were dropped. Probably they were ready to swear that Mary was at the murder in male costume, as in a legend of the Lennox Papers! Lethington brought this news to Throckmorton between ten and eleven at night.[228] It was the friendly Lethington who told Throckmorton about the guilty Letters.
The Lords had, at last, decided to make use of the Letters attributed to Mary, and of the ‘witnesses,’ and by these, or other modes of coercion, they extorted her assent (valueless, so Throckmorton and Robert Melville let her know, because she was a prisoner) to their proposals.[229] Despite their knowledge of the Letters, the Lords, in proclamations, continued to aver that Bothwell had ravished her by fear, force, and other unlawful means, the very means of coercing Mary which they themselves were employing. The brutality, hypocrisy, and low vacillating cunning of the Lords, must not blind us to the fact that they certainly, since late in June, held new cards, genuine or packed.
It is undeniable that the first notices of the Letters, by de Silva, prove that the Lords, about the date assigned by Morton, did actually possess themselves of useful documents. Their vacillations as to how and when they would play these cards are easily explained. Their first care was to prejudice the Courts of France, Spain, and Elizabeth against Mary by circulating the tale of their discovery. If they had published the papers at once, they might then have proceeded to try and to execute, perhaps (as the Highland seeress predicted) to burn Mary. The preachers urged them to severity, but some of them were too politic to proceed to extremes, which might bring in Elizabeth and France as avengers. But, if Mary was to be spared in life, to publish the Letters at once would ruin their value as an ‘awe-bond.’ They could only be used as a means of coercing Mary, while they were unknown to the world at large. If the worst was known, Mary would face it boldly. Only while the worst was not generally known could the Letters be used to ‘blackmail’ her. Whether the Letters were, in fact, employed to extort Mary’s abdication is uncertain. She was advised, as we said, by Throckmorton and Robert Melville, that her signature, while a captive, was legally invalid, so she signed the deeds of abdication, regency, and permission to crown her son. For the moment, till Moray arrived, and a Parliament was held, the Lords needed no more. Throckmorton believed that he had saved Mary’s life: and Robert Melville plainly told Elizabeth so.[230]
Thus it is clear that the Lords held documents, genuine, or forged, or in part authentic, in part falsified. Their evasive use of the papers, their self-contradictions in their proclamations, do not disprove this fact. But were the documents those which they finally published? This question, on which we may have new light to throw, demands a separate investigation.
X
THE CASKET LETTERS
II. A POSSIBLY FORGED LETTER
Were the documents in the possession of the Lords, after June 21, those which they later exhibited before Elizabeth’s Commissioners at Westminster (December, 1568)? Here we reach perhaps the most critical point in the whole inquiry. A Letter to Bothwell, attributed to Mary, was apparently in the hands of the Lords (1567-1568), a Letter which was highly compromising, but never was publicly produced. We first hear of this Letter by a report of Moray to de Silva, repeated by de Silva to Philip of Spain (July, 1567).
Before going further we must examine Moray’s probable sources of information as to Mary’s correspondence. From April 7, to the beginning of July, he had been out of Scotland: first in England; later on the Continent. As early as May 8, Kirkcaldy desired Bedford to forward a letter to Moray, bidding him come to Normandy, in readiness to return, (and aid the Lords,) now banding against Bothwell.[231] ‘He will haste him after he has seen it.’ Moray did not ‘haste him,’ his hour had not come. He was, however, in touch with his party. On July 8, a fortnight after the discovery of the Casket, Robert Melville, at ‘Kernye’ in Fife, sends ‘Jhone a Forret’ to Cecil. John is to go on to Moray, and (Lethington adds, on July 9) a packet of letters for Moray is to be forwarded ‘with the greatest diligence that may be.’ Melville says, as to ‘Jhone a Forret’ (whom Cecil, in his endorsement, calls ‘Jhon of Forrest’), ‘Credit the bearer, who knows all occurrents.’ Can ‘Jhone a Forret’ be a cant punning name for John Wood, sometimes called ‘John a Wood,’ by the English, a man whom Cecil knew as Moray’s secretary? John Wood was a Fifeshire man, a son of Sir Andrew Wood of Largo, and from Fife Melville was writing. Jhone a Forret is, at all events, a bearer whom, as he ‘knows all occurents,’ Cecil is to credit.[232] This Wood is the very centre of the secret dealings of Mary’s enemies, of the Lords, and Lennox. Cecil, Elizabeth, and Leicester are asked to ‘credit’ him, later, as Cecil ‘credited’ ‘Jhone a Forret.’
Up to this date (July 8) when letters were sent by the Lords to Moray, he was, or feigned to be, friendly to his sister. On that day a messenger of his, from France, was with Elizabeth, who told Cecil that Moray was vexed by Mary’s captivity in Loch Leven, and that he would be ‘her true servant in all fortunes.’ He was sending letters to Mary, which the Lords were not to see.[233] His messenger was Nicholas Elphinstone, who was not allowed to give Mary his letters.[234] After receiving the letters sent to him from Scotland on July 8, Moray turned his back on his promises of service to Mary. But, before he received these letters, Archbishop Beaton had told Alava that Moray was his sister’s mortal enemy and by him mistrusted.[235] Moray’s professions to Elizabeth may have been a blind, but his letters for Mary’s private eye have a more genuine air.
Moray arrived in England on July 23.
About July 22, Mary’s confessor, Roche Mameret, a Dominican, had come to London. He was much grieved, he said to de Silva, by Mary’s marriage with Bothwell, which, as he had told her, was illegal. ‘He swore to me solemnly that, till the question of the marriage with Bothwell was raised, he never saw a woman of greater virtue, courage, and uprightness…’ Apparently he knew nothing of the guilty loves, and the Exchequer House scandal. ‘She swore to him that she had contracted the marriage’ with the object of settling religion by that means, though Bothwell was so stout a Protestant that he had twice married Catholic brides by Protestant rites! ‘As regarded the King’s murder, her confessor has told me’ (de Silva) ‘that she had no knowledge whatever of it.’ Now de Silva imparted this fact to Moray, when he visited London, as we saw, in the end of July, 1567, and after Moray had seen Elizabeth. He gave de Silva the impression that ‘although he always returned to his desire to help the Queen, this is not altogether his intention.’ Finally, Moray told de Silva ‘something that he had not even told this Queen, although she had given him many remote hints upon the subject.’ The secret was that Mary had been cognisant of Darnley’s murder. ‘This had been proved beyond doubt by a letter which the Queen had written to Bothwell, containing more than three double sheets (pliegos) of paper, written with her own hand and signed with her name; in which she says in substance that he is not to delay putting into execution that which he had been ordered (tenia ordenado), because her husband used such fair words to deceive her, and bring her to his will, that she might be moved by them if the other thing were not done quickly. She said that she herself would go and fetch him [Darnley], and would stop at a house on the road where she would try to give him a draught; but if this could not be done, she would put him in the house where the explosion was arranged for the night upon which one of her servants was to be married. He, Bothwell, was to try to get rid of his wife either by putting her away or poisoning her, since he knew that she, the Queen, had risked all for him, her honour, her kingdom, her wealth, which she had in France, and her God; contenting herself with his person alone… Moray said he had heard of this letter from a man who had read it…’[236]
As to ‘hearing of’ this epistle, the reader may judge whether, when the Lords sent ‘Jhone a Forret’ (probably John Wood) to Moray, and also sent a packet of letters, they did not enclose copies of the Casket Letters as they then existed. Is it probable that they put Moray off with the mere hearsay of Jhone a Forret, who ‘knows all occurrents’? If so, Jhone, and Moray, and de Silva, as we shall prove, had wonderfully good verbal memories, like Chicot when he carried in his head the Latin letter of Henri III. to Henri of Navarre.
Mr. Froude first quoted de Silva’s report of Moray’s report of this bloodthirsty letter of Mary’s: and declared that Moray described accurately the long Glasgow Letter (Letter II.).[237] But Moray, as Mr. Hosack proved, described a letter totally and essentially different from Letter II. That epistle, unlike the one described by Moray, is not signed. We could not with certainty infer this from the want of signatures to our copies; their absence might be due to a common custom by which copyists did not add the writer’s signature, when the letter was otherwise described. But Mary’s defenders, Lesley and Blackwood, publicly complained of the absence of signatures, and were not answered. This point is not very important, but in the actual Casket Letter II. Mary does not say, as in Moray’s account, that there is danger of Darnley’s ‘bringing her round to his will.’ She says the reverse, ‘The place will hold,’ and, therefore, she does not, as in Moray’s report, indicate the consequent need of hurry. She does not say that ‘she herself will go and fetch him;’ she was there already: this must be an error of reporting. She does not speak of ‘giving him a draught’ in a house on the road. She says nothing of a house where ‘the explosion was arranged.’ No explosion had been arranged, though some of the earlier indictments drawn up by Lennox for the prosecution declare that this was the case: ‘The place was already prepared with [undermining and] trains of powder therein.’[238] This, however, was the early theory, later abandoned, and it occurs in a Lennox document which contains a letter of Darnley to the Queen, written three days before his death. The Casket Letter II. says nothing about poisoning or divorcing Lady Bothwell, nor much, in detail, about Mary’s abandonment of her God, her wealth in France, and her realm, for her lover. On the other hand she regards God as on her side. In short, the letter described by Moray to de Silva agrees in no one point with any of the Letters later produced and published: except in certain points provocative of suspicion. Mr. Froude thought that it did harmonise, but the opinion is untenable.
De Silva’s account, however, is only at third hand. He merely reports what Moray told him that he had heard, from ‘a man who had read the letter.’ We might therefore argue that the whole reference is to the long Casket Letter II., but is distorted out of all knowledge by passing through three mouths. This natural theory is no longer tenable.
In the Lennox Papers the writer, Lennox, breaks off in his account of Darnley’s murder to say, ‘And before we proceed any further, I cannot omit to declare and call to remembrance her Letter written to Bothwell from Glasgow before her departure thence, together with such cruel and strange words “unto” him, which he her husband should have better considered and marked, but that “the” hope “he” had to win her “love” now did blind him; together that it lieth not in the power of man to prevent that which the suffering will of God determineth. The contents of her letter to the said Bothwell was to let him understand that, although the flattering and sweet words of him with whom she was then presently, the King her husband, has almost overcome her, yet the remembering the great affection which she bore unto him [Bothwell] there should no such sweet baits dissuade her, or cool her said affection from him, but would continue therein, yea though she should thereby abandon her God, put in adventure the loss of her dowry in France, “hazard” such titles as she had to the crown of England, as heir apparent thereof, and also the crown of the realm; wishing him then present in her arms; therefore bid him go forward with all things, according to their enterprize, and that the place and everything might be finished as they had devised, against her coming to Edinburgh, which should be shortly. And for the time of execution thereof she thought it best to be the time of Bastian’s marriage, which indeed was the night of the King her husband’s murder. She wrote also in her letter that the said Bothwell should “in no wise fail” in the meantime to dispatch his wife, and to give her the drink as they had devised before.’[239]
