<h2 class="space"><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI</h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="center">THE PUBLIC LIFE: THE CONFLICT WITH QUEEN MARY</p>
<br/>
<p>Parliament had made a great and revolutionary change.
It had acted as if the government had been already
granted to it, or, in Cecil's phrase, to 'the nation of the
land.' And the change was on one side a breaking off
of the old alliance with Catholic France. But the
sovereigns of Scotland, now and for the last twelvemonth,
were no other than the King and Queen of
France. They, rather than Parliament, were the
'Authority,' which, according to the consistent theory
of that age, had the right to make and enforce changes
of religion; and which, according to the more puzzling
theory of Knox, had the right to do so—provided the
religion so to be enforced was the true one. Accordingly
the new Confession of Faith and the statutes passed by
the late Parliament, were sent to Paris by the Lord St
John. He waited there long, but, of course, brought
back no ratification. But that, says Knox, 'we little
regarded, nor yet do regard'; for, he adds, falling back
rather too late upon one of those great principles his
utterance of which has sunk into the hearts of his
countrymen,</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'all that we did was rather to shew our dutiful obedience than to
beg of them any strength to our religion, which from God has full
power, and needeth not the suffrage of man, but in so far as man
hath need to believe it, if that ever he shall have participation of
the life everlasting.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</SPAN><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<p>It was no wonder that the royal pair did not ratify
a Protestant Confession, for during their brief reign
over France they were the centre of a keen crusade
against Protestantism, conducted far more by Mary's
counsellors and uncles, the Guises, than by her feeble-minded
husband. Towards the end of 1560 this had
gone so far that secret preparations seem to have been
made for immediately anticipating the St Bartholomew
of twelve years later. But the sudden death of
Francis and the widowhood of Mary changed the
whole situation. The new King was in the power,
not of the Guises, but of his mother, Catherine de
Medici; and Mary of Scots would now have to accept
a second or a third place in Paris. But in Europe,
and in the politics of Europe, the beautiful young
widow sprang at once into the foremost rank, and
became the star of all eyes. Ex-Queen of France,
Queen-presumptive of England, and actual Queen of
Scotland, which had always been the link between the
other two, and to which she was now to return, the
marriage destiny of this girl of eighteen would probably
decide the wavering balance of Christendom.<SPAN name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</SPAN></p>
<p>Mary understood her high part, and accepted it
with alacrity. Fascinating and beautiful, keen-witted
and strong-willed, she would have found herself at
home in this great game of politics, even if it had not
turned upon an element of intense personal interest
for herself. But while all men knew that her hand
was the chief prize of the game, almost the first man
to act on this knowledge, strange to say, was Knox.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span>
The Treaty of Edinburgh had acknowledged the right
of the Duke (Hamilton or Chatelherault), and of his
eldest son Arran, as the next in succession to the
Scottish crown after its present holder. And while
that present holder was still married to the King of
France, the Scottish nobles had urged Arran as a suitable
husband for Elizabeth of England. It would be
the best arrangement, they thought, for binding the two
countries together, and counteracting the inevitable pull
asunder from the Sovereigns in Paris. Elizabeth, however,
had replied, to the grave displeasure of the Estates,
that she was not 'presently disposed to marry.' And
now a new question was raised. Scotland was, of
course, still more deeply interested in the probable
second marriage of its own Queen. Arran, an extremely
flighty young man, was at this moment much
under the personal influence of the Reformer; and it
was with Knox's privity, and perhaps on his suggestion,
and certainly without the knowledge of the nobility
generally, that before Mary had been a widow for a
month, her young Protestant cousin sent her a ring and
a secret letter of courtship. It was again in vain.
When Elizabeth refused him, the Estates had been
offended, but Arran himself bore the loss with much
resignation. Now, however, the case was different;
and though Mary at all times treated her young kinsman
with kindness, Arran took her prompt rejection of
his present overtures grievously to heart, and his wits,
never very stable, were soon completely overturned.
Knox, however, had now fair warning that Mary Stuart
knew herself to be more than a mere Queen of Scots,
and that the infinitely difficult questions, which her
approaching return to Scotland must necessarily raise,
were not to be evaded on easy terms.</p>
<p>There was among these one theoretical question which
<i>ought</i> to have been a difficulty for Knox, but of which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</SPAN></span>
he was not now disposed to make much. According to
his view women should not be sovereigns at all. But,
in truth, this was but one branch of the general grievance
of arbitrary power in that age. The Reformation took
place, we must always remember, at a time when the
hereditary authority of kings was greater than either
before or since. And this arbitrary power of one man
became, if possible, a little more absurd when it happened
to be the power of one woman. In 1557, Knox
had found himself confronted with a Queen of England,
a Queen of Scotland, and a Queen-Regent in Scotland—all
of them ladies immersed in Catholicism, and each
in a position which, in his view, implied the duty of
selecting religion for all her lieges. We, in our time,
have a very simple way of getting rid of such an intolerable
difficulty. But in that age a man even of the
boldness of Knox was thankful to mitigate it. He
thought he found a mitigation in the view (held by
thinkers and publicists at the time commonly enough)
that women should not be entrusted with such a power;
and, in 1558, he published anonymously his 'First Blast
of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regiment [Regimen
or Rule] of Women.' Though anonymous, the
book was well known to be his; and being Knox's it
was founded not so much on theory as on Scripture
precedents, largely misread according to the exigencies
of the argument. But the publication was, in any case,
a practical mistake. Mary of England died immediately
after, and was succeeded by Elizabeth, who was rather
more of a woman than her sister, but to whom Knox
and Scotland looked as their only ally against Continental
Catholicism. Knox repeatedly tried to explain to the
new English Queen; but that very great but very
feminine ruler never forgave his book. Meantime he
came, as we saw, into more personal contact with the
Queen-Regent of Scotland, and had the highest hopes<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</SPAN></span>
from her. Ultimately she disappointed these; but even
when she was deposed by the nobles, to whom he had
originally looked as the agents in the Reform, Knox
insisted on keeping open a door for her restoration, in
the event of her coming in the meantime to think with
himself. And now her daughter was come to her native
country as Queen in her own right. Knox, taught by
experience, had already taken part in private overtures
to her, and was no longer disposed to stand on any
theoretical difficulty as to the rule of a woman. The
practical difficulties were enough.</p>
<p>And the practical difficulties were tremendous. Had
Mary ruled as a modern constitutional Queen, with
toleration of religion all around, things would have been
easy. She would have enjoyed the freedom which she
granted to the lowest of her subjects, and every one of
them would have supported her enthusiastically against
domestic and foreign aggression. But the reign of
religion which, according to her first proclamation, she,
on her arrival, 'found publicly and universally standing,'
was very different. It was one by which half the lieges
were forbidden the exercise of their own religion and of
their ordinary worship; and by which Scotland and all its
rulers were pledged to a faith she had been trained as a
child to detest, and as a Queen to suppress. The situation
was impossible from the first. The only question
was, how long it would last.</p>
<p>Knox would have met it fairly by making her acknowledgment
of the Protestant Acts and Confession a condition
of her being acknowledged by Scotland. And
had the fact been known that Mary, by three secret
documents, executed just before her childless marriage to
the Dauphin, had already handed over her native kingdom,
in the event of her having no issue, to the King
of France, the crisis, which was to be postponed for so
many years, might have come at once. But an inter<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</SPAN></span>mediate
plan was arranged in Paris through 'the man
whom all the godly did most reverence,' and whose
weight of character was gradually giving him the foremost
place in Scotland—Lord James Stewart, the
Queen's natural brother. Mary, quick to understand
men, put herself under her brother's guidance, and the
result was that she was joyfully received in Edinburgh,
and a proclamation was issued forbidding, on the one
hand, any 'alteration or innovation of the state of
religion' as Her Majesty found it in the realm on her
arrival, and, on the other, any tumult or violence,
especially against Her Majesty's French domestics and
followers. So, on the first Sunday, while the Evangel
was publicly preached in St Giles in Edinburgh, and in
all the great towns and burghs of Scotland, mass was
privately celebrated in her chapel at Holyrood, the Lord
James with his sword keeping the door, to 'stop all
Scottish men to enter in,' whether to join in the worship
or to disturb it. It was drawing a different line from
that which had been fixed by the recent Parliament,
whose Acts also the new Queen had evaded ratifying.
Knox's passion against 'idolatry,' beyond all other forms
of false religion or irreligion, was fully shared by the
mass of his followers, and he tells us that, on this
occasion, he worked in private 'rather to mitigate, yea
to sloken, that fervency that God had kindled in others.'
But in the pulpit 'next Sunday' he said that 'one Mass was
more fearful to him than if ten thousand armed enemies
were landed in any part of the realm, of purpose to
suppress the whole religion'—an exaggeration of intolerance
which is unintelligible, until we remember that the
'one mass' which he was thinking of was that of the
ruler who might soon have the power, and perhaps had
already the intention, of suppressing religion.</p>
<p>Mary had come to Scotland with the deliberate plan
of conciliating and capturing her native kingdom, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</SPAN></span>
she was not the woman to shrink from whatever seemed
to be necessary in the process. It may have been her
brother who suggested a meeting between two people
whom, in different ways, he certainly liked as well as admired.
In any case, Knox was now at once sent for to
the Court, and there followed the first of the famous
interviews between Knox and the Queen, recorded in
the Fourth Book of his History. The detailed truth of
these Dialogues is not to be inferred merely from their
vigour and verisimilitude. It results equally from the
fact that, throughout, Knox represents the young Queen
as meeting him with perfect intelligence, while on most
points she actually has the better of the argument. The
vindication of Knox has come, not so much from what
he has himself so faithfully recorded, as from the judgment
of history on the whole situation, and on the
relation to it of speakers who were also actors.</p>
<p>The first is probably the most important of the
dialogues.<SPAN name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</SPAN> Mary and her brother received Knox
in Holyrood, two ladies standing in the other end of
the room. She commenced by taxing him with his
book against her 'regimen.' He explained that, if
Scotland was satisfied with a female ruler, he would
not object.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'But yet,' said she, 'ye have taught the people to receive another
religion than their Princes can allow: And how can that doctrine
be of God, seeing that God commands subjects to obey their
Princes?'</p>
<p>Knox, in answer, ignored the article of his Confession which bears
closely on this point,<SPAN name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</SPAN> and fell back on the more fundamental
truth.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>'Madam, as right religion took neither original nor authority
from worldly princes, but from the Eternal God alone, so are not
subjects bound to frame their religion according to the appetites of
their Princes.'</p>
<p>He easily illustrated this by instances of men in Scripture, who
resisted such commands of Princes, and suffered.</p>
<p>'But yet,' said she, 'they resisted not with the sword.'</p>
<p>'God,' said he, 'Madam, had not given unto them the power
and the means.'</p>
<p>'Think ye,' quoth she, 'that subjects, having power, may resist
their Princes?'</p>
<p>'If their Princes exceed their bounds,' quoth he, 'Madam, and
do against that wherefore they should be obeyed, it is no doubt but
they may be resisted, even by power.'</p>
<p>That Princes should regulate the religion of subjects Knox held
to be within their 'bounds,' but only apparently if they regulated it
aright, and according to the Word. Otherwise, he now explained,
the prince might be restrained, like a father 'stricken with a
frenzy.' At this remarkable argument the Queen 'stood, as it
were, amazed more than the quarter of an hour.' Recovering
herself, she said—</p>
<p>'Well, then, I perceive that my subjects shall obey you and not
me.'...</p>
<p>'God forbid,' answered he, in words which really express his
fundamental view, 'that ever I take upon me to command any to
obey me, or yet to set subjects at liberty to do what pleaseth them.
But my travel is that both princes and subjects obey God, who,' he
added, 'commands queens to be nurses unto His people.'</p>
<p>'Yea,' quoth she, 'but ye are not the Church that I will nourish.
I will defend the Kirk of Rome, for, I think, it is the true Kirk of
God.'</p>
<p>'Your will,' quoth he, 'Madam, is no reason; neither doth your
thought make that Roman harlot to be the true and immaculate
spouse of Jesus Christ.' ...</p>
<p>'My conscience,' said she, 'is not so.'</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>'Conscience, Madam, requires knowledge, and I fear that right
knowledge ye have none.'</p>
<p>'But,' said she, 'I have both heard and read.'</p>
<p>... 'Have ye heard,' said he, 'any teach, but such as the Pope
and his Cardinals have allowed?'</p>
<p>The Queen avoided a direct answer,<SPAN name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</SPAN> but took the next point
with unfailing acuteness.</p>
<p>'Ye interpret the Scriptures,' said she, 'in one manner, and they
interpret in another; whom shall I believe? and who shall be judge?'</p>
<p>And Knox's answer is from his side perfect—</p>
<p>'Ye shall believe God, that plainly speaketh in His word; and
farther than the word teacheth you, ye neither shall believe the one
nor the other. The word of God is plain in itself; and if there
appear any obscurity in one place, the Holy Ghost, who is never
contrarious to Himself, explains the same more clearly in other
places.'</p>
</div>
<p>The conference was long, and was ended with mutual
courtesies. Both parties in the country suspected that
the new sovereign might be gradually coming round to
the new faith. No triumph could have been more
glorious for Knox, and at the opening of the interview
he had used every method of conciliation. But he
never henceforth deceived himself as to the chances
in this case. Outwardly, the Queen remained friendly,
and he remained loyal; but his opinion as expressed
privately, immediately after this first meeting, was
recorded later on.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'If there be not in her a proud mind, a crafty wit, and an indurate
heart against God and His truth, my judgment faileth me.'</p>
</div>
<p>Induration of heart was not a charitable judgment to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</SPAN></span>
pass against a young woman brought up in the worst
school of morals in Europe, but whom the speaker held
never to have met 'God and his truth' till that forenoon.
Yet, as usual, Knox's judgment was by no
means wholly wrong. There is a certain brilliant hardness
about the charm of Mary Queen of Scots, even
with posterity; and as to religion, whatever may have
been the case in the later years of her sad imprisonment,
there is no evidence in her early days in Scotland
of personal or earnest interest in the religion even of
her own church.<SPAN name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</SPAN> And a tender and serious interest in
religion was held by the whole Protestantism of that day
to be the one gate for the individual into 'God's truth.'
Had his Queen shown anything of this spirit of earnest
enquiry, our rough Reformer might have been precipitate
to help her steps, though they should be as yet on
the wrong side of the dividing line. But Mary made
no pretences on the subject, and it was her misfortune,
and that of all around, that her opinion on religion—a
matter in which she took no more interest than was
natural to her years—should have been all important to
her subjects. They at least were, or professed to be, in
earnest about it; and the man who in her presence now
represented that earnestness made no pretences either.
But we may be sure that Knox's judgment on a 'proud
mind' as to the more central and personal truths
of religion, would not be mitigated by that keen 'wit'
which played so freely round its external parts, and
transfixed so easily his own theory of Church and State.
We know from himself that Mary, having found the
weak point of the intolerant legislation, took care to
press upon it. She was 'ever crying conscience, conscience!
it is a sore thing to constrain the conscience;'<SPAN name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</SPAN><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</SPAN></span>
and she selected for her 'flattering words' the best of
the men around her, till from the question, 'Why may
not the Queen have her own Mass, and the form of her
religion? what can that hurt us or our religion?'
there came a formal discussion and a vote of the
Lords that they were not entitled to constrain her.
This state of matters continued during the year 1562.
But the real danger, of course, was from abroad, and
Knox had intelligence of all that was going on there.
In December 1562 a victory of the Guises in France had
been followed by dancing at Holyrood; and Knox
preached against 'taking pleasure for the displeasure of
God's people.' The Queen sent for him, and suggested
his speaking to herself privately rather than haranguing
publicly upon her domestic proceedings: a proposal
which he so promptly rejected that she at once turned
her back on him. It was on this occasion that, hearing
the whisper as he went out, 'He is not afraid,' he
replied, with a 'reasonably merry' countenance, 'Wherefore
should the pleasing face of a gentlewoman affray
me? I have looked into the faces of many angry men,
and yet have not been affrayed above measure.' But
the effect of that pleasing face upon others around may
be measured by a letter written next day to Cecil by
Randolph, who had for some time been Queen Elizabeth's
envoy in Edinburgh. He was an intelligent and
well-meaning man; but Mary was far more than a match
for him, as she had been in France for an abler diplomatist,
Throckmorton. Randolph tells the English
minister that Knox is still full of 'good zeal and affection'
to England. 'I know also that his travail and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</SPAN></span>
care is great to unite the hearts of the princes and
people of these two realms in perpetual love and hearty
kindness.' In the previous year Randolph had heard
an incident of Knox's first interview with Mary, which
we only know from his letter. Even then Knox
'knocked so hastily upon her heart that he made her
weep, as well you know there be of that sex that will do
that as well for anger as for grief.' But since that date
the Queen of Scots had turned her caressing courtesy
directly upon this Englishman, and even the golden cup
which she presented to him at Lord James Stewart's
marriage had perhaps less influence with Randolph than
the bright eyes of one of her 'four Maries' whom he
was now pursuing. So he adds now that Knox 'is so
full of mistrust in all the Queen's doings, words, and
sayings, as though he were either of God's privy counsel,
that know how He had determined of her from the
beginning, or that he knew the secrets of her heart so
well, that neither she did nor could have for ever one
good thought of God or of His true religion.' No criticism
could be more acute. And yet the research of
later times has shown that Knox's judgment, or information,
as to what Mary of Scots was now doing, was
superior to that of all around him. This was the
very close of 1562, and in the next month of January
she extended her Catholic correspondence, which had
hitherto been chiefly with the Guises and her Cardinal
uncle, by letters to the Pope.<SPAN name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</SPAN> On the 31st she writes
Pius IV. assuring him of her devotion to the Church,
and that for it and for the restoration to it of her kingdom
she is ready to sacrifice her life.<SPAN name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</SPAN> The bearer, too,
of this secret missive was Cardinal Granvelle, from Madrid,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</SPAN></span>
and deep at this moment in the persecuting plans of
Alva and his master Philip. For a new and greater
danger was now rising for Scotland. Hitherto the chief
pretenders for the hand of the Queen of Scots had been
the Archduke Charles, and the Duke of Anjou. (The
new King of France was also supposed to be in love
with her.) But now the project was pressed of a marriage
between her and Don Carlos, the oldest son of Philip
and the heir of the mighty monarchy of Spain. And it
was with this full in her mind, and with the determination
to take a step forward in her own kingdom, that
Mary again sent for Knox—this time to Lochleven,
where she was hawking. The occasion was well chosen.
The Queen's mass was now tolerated: why should not
private subjects also be allowed to have it, provided they
worshipped privately? 'Who can stop the Queen's
subjects to be of the Queen's religion?' Already many
Catholics had acted upon this reasoning at Easter of
1563; but in the West the Protestant barons and magistrates,
instead of complaining to the Queen and her
Council, had apprehended the wrong-doers and proposed
to punish them. 'For two hours' the Queen urged him
to persuade the gentlemen of the West 'not to put hands
to punish any man for <i>the using of themselves</i> in their
religion as pleased them.' Nothing could be more
clearly right. But nothing could be more clearly against
the law; and Knox assured her that if she would enforce
that law herself her subjects would be quiet. But 'Will
ye,' said she, 'that they shall take my sword into their
hand?'</p>
<p>'The sword of justice, Madam,' he answered, 'is
God's; and if the magistrate will not use it the people
must do so. And therefore it shall be profitable to
your Majesty to consider what is the thing your Grace's
subjects look to receive of your Majesty, and what it is
that ye ought to do unto them by mutual contract.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</SPAN></span>
They are bound to obey you, and that not but in God.
You are bound to keep laws unto them. You crave of
them service: they crave of you protection and defence
against wicked doers.'</p>
<p>The Queen, 'somewhat offended, passed to her
supper,' and Knox prepared to return to Edinburgh.
But her brother, afterwards the Regent, had heard the
result of the conference, and Mary learned that matters
could not safely be left in this condition. Next morning
the Queen sent for Knox as she was going out
hawking. She had apparently forgotten all the keen
dispute of the evening before; and her manner was
caressing and confidential. What did Mr Knox think
of Lord Ruthven's offering her a ring? 'I cannot love
him,' she added, 'for I know him to use enchantment.'
Was Mr Knox not going to Dumfries, to make the
Bishop of Athens the superintendent of the Kirk in that
county? He was, Knox answered; the proposed
superintendent being a man in whom he had confidence.
'If you knew him,' said Mary, 'as well as
I do, ye would never promote him to that office, nor
yet to any other within the Kirk.' In yet another
matter, and one more private and delicate, she required
his help. Her half-sister, Lady Argyll, and the Earl,
her husband, were, she was afraid, not on good terms.
Knox had once reconciled them before, but, 'do this
much <i>for my sake</i>, as once again to put them at unity.'
And so she dismissed him with promises to enforce the
laws against the mass.</p>
<p>Knox for once fell under the spell. He seems to
have believed that this most charming of women was
at last leaning to the side of her native land. And so
he sat down and wrote a long letter to Argyll. He
went to Dumfries, and on making enquiry, he found
that the Queen was right in her shrewd estimate of the
proposed superintendent, and took means to prevent the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</SPAN></span>
election. It turned out, too, that she had kept her
promise about citing offenders, and no fewer than
forty-eight persons, one of them an Archbishop,
had been indicted. The first Parliament since her
landing had been summoned for June, and Moray
and Lethington seem to have suggested to Knox that
the Queen would be glad then to ratify the Acts of
1560, in exchange for the approval by the estates of some
suitable marriage. Even now, it was these two heads
of the Protestant party whom Knox trusted rather than
Mary. But the young Queen had outwitted all of them
together. The prosecutions throughout the country
had pacified the Protestants, and they did not come up
to the Parliament. When it met, it did not even ask
that the 'state of religion' should be ratified. Meantime
the Cardinal of Lorraine had carried to the Council
of Trent the adhesion of the Queen of Scots, and a
special congregation was held by it for the private
reception of her letter. Worse still, the plan for a
Spanish marriage, and for setting a Scoto-Spanish queen
upon the throne of the Bloody Mary, was now actively
prosecuted. All this spring, while professing to carry
out her promises to Knox, Mary was negotiating with
Madrid, and 'already, in imagination, Queen of Scotland,
England, Ireland, Spain, Flanders, Naples, and
the Indies,' she was but little interested in the plans
which her Scottish nobility were proposing for her to
England. Knox had hoped that if not a Protestant
noble like Leicester or Arran, at least a royal Protestant
like the King of Denmark or the King of
Sweden, would, with Elizabeth's help, be a successful
suitor. But Queen Elizabeth, whom Knox pithily
describes as 'neither good Protestant nor yet resolute
Papist,' was not disposed to help any one to marry
before herself, least of all her lovely cousin. And the
Scottish statesmen, Moray and Maitland, like her own<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</SPAN></span>
English advisers often, were now so driven to desperation
by Elizabeth's vacillations that they had actually—possibly
with the hope of frightening her—pressed both at
home and abroad the project of marrying the Queen of
Scots to the heir of Spain! This apparently came to the
knowledge of Knox along with the refusal to meet his
hopes on the part of the Scots Parliament; and now his
cup was full. Lord James Stewart, by this time the
Earl of Moray, son-in-law of the Earl Marischal, and
gifted with great estates of the forfeited Earl of Huntly,
had been his chief friend. But 'familiarly after that
time they spake not together more than a year and a
half; for the said John, by his letter, gave a discharge
to the said Earl of all farther intromission or care with
his affairs.' In this stately letter Knox recalled all their
past career in common, and added that, seeing his hopes
had been disappointed,</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'I commit you to your own wit, and to the conducting of those
who better please you. I praise my God, I this day leave you
victor of your enemies, promoted to great honours, and in credit
and authority with your sovereign. If so ye long continue, none
within the realm shall be more glad than I shall be; but if that
after this ye shall decay (as I fear that ye shall) then call to mind
by what means God exalted you.'</p>
</div>
<p>But the pulpit remained to him, and the pulpit in
those days had sometimes to combine the functions of
free Parliament and free press. Knox went into St Giles',
and in a great sermon before the assembled Lords, from
whose retrospective eloquence we have already quoted,<SPAN name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</SPAN>
he drove right at the heart of the situation.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'And now, my Lords, to put end to all, I hear of the Queen's
marriage; dukes, brethren to emperors, and kings, all strive for the
best game. But this, my Lords, will I say—note the day, and bear
witness after—whensoever the nobility of Scotland, professing the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</SPAN></span>
Lord Jesus, consent that an infidel (and all Papists are infidels) shall
be head to your Sovereign, ye do as far as in you lieth to banish
Christ Jesus from this realm; ye bring God's vengeance upon the
country, a plague upon yourselves, and perchance ye shall do small
comfort to your Sovereign.'</p>
</div>
<p>That sovereign could scarcely be expected to take the
same view, and for the last time the Queen sent for
Knox. No one knew so well as she that he had laid
his finger on the true hinge of the political question,
and that her opponent would have a far stronger case
now than at any of their previous interviews. She burst
into tears the moment he entered. 'I have borne with
you,' she said most truly, 'in all your rigorous manner
of speaking; I have sought your favour by all possible
means.' 'True it is, madam,' he answered, 'your Grace
and I have been at divers controversies, in the which
I never perceived your Grace to be offended at me.'
Knox's complacency is sometimes thick-skinned: but
he was not wrong in thinking that Mary, a woman with
immensely more brains than the generality of her posthumous
admirers, had from the first understood and,
perhaps, half liked her uncompromising adversary, and
that she had at least enjoyed the dialectic conflicts in
which she had held her own so well. But the matter
was more serious now. 'What have you to do with my
marriage?' she demanded. Knox in answer hinted
that she had herself invited him to give her private
advice; but what he had said was in the pulpit, where
he had to speak to the nobility and to think of the good
of the whole commonwealth.</p>
<p>'What have you to do,' she persisted, 'with my
marriage? or what are you within this commonwealth?'</p>
<p>'A subject born within the same,' said he, 'Madam.
And albeit I neither be earl, lord, nor baron within it,
yet has God made me (how abject that ever I be in
your eyes) a profitable member within the same.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Under the new discipline the preacher claimed a
right to utter opinions even as to private marriages, and
used it much beyond what the fundamental principles
of Protestantism could justify. But Knox was now
dealing with his Queen, and he felt himself well within
the line of his duty in repeating to herself the deadly
consequences to Scotland if its nobility ever consented
to her being 'subject to an unfaithful husband.' It was
unanswerable, except by a new passion of tears, under
which the Reformer stood at first silent and unmoved.
He broke silence at last with a clumsy attempt to explain
or to console; and Mary's indignation was not diminished
by Knox's quaint protest that he was really a tenderhearted
man, and could scarcely bear to see his own
children weep when corrected for their faults. She
broke with him finally; and Knox, dismissed to the
ante-chamber, found himself so solitary, though among
the ladies of the Court, that (as we have already seen)
he attempted to 'procure the company of women' by
moralisings which they too may have found impressive
rather than delightful.</p>
<p>From this point—June 1563—the history slopes
steadily downwards. Mary's ambition was still to be
Queen of Spain. Messengers on the subject went to
Spain and came to Scotland. But her plans were
secretly counterworked by her old enemy Catherine
de Medici, the French Queen-mother, and Philip
changed his mind continually. In December an incident
happened which shewed Knox's new position.
A riot arose in the Queen's absence between Catholics
who wished to worship in her private chapel and Protestants
who wished to prevent or denounce it. The
latter were indicted for 'invading' the palace. Knox
instantly wrote a letter summoning the faithful to attend
in a body along with them; and he was cited to appear
before the Queen in Council on a charge of 'convoca<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</SPAN></span>tion
of the lieges.' Once more he stood before Mary,
but now it was at her bar. Knox had the weakness of
listening to gossip, especially as to what his feminine
adversaries said; and he records not only what he saw,
that 'her pomp lacked one principal point, to wit,
womanly gravity,' but also that she was heard to observe—this
time apparently in admirable Scots—'Yon man
gart me greet, and grat never tear himself. I will see if
I can gar him greet.' Knox absolutely refused to withdraw
his letter or to apologise for it: and though the
Council did not desire to justify his conduct, they heard
with some sympathy his plea that Papists were not good
advisers of princes, being sons of him who was 'a
murderer from the beginning.' Lethington, the Secretary,
conducted the prosecution, and it was probably he
who at this point remarked—</p>
<p>'You forget yourself: you are not now in the
pulpit.'</p>
<p>'I am in the place,' said Knox—and again his word
has become memorable—'where I am demanded of
conscience to speak the truth, and therefore the truth
I speak, impugn it whoso list.'</p>
<p>The votes were taken twice over; but the nobles
steadily refused to find Knox guilty, and 'that night
there was neither dancing nor fiddling in the palace.'
During the whole of 1564, however, Knox and the
General Assembly were divided from the Protestant
courtiers, who argued, with perfect justice, that the
attitude of the Reformer and his fellow preachers to
the Queen was one of scarcely veiled disloyalty. In a
long and formal conference upon the subject, Knox said
some things so plainly that Lethington answered—</p>
<p>'Then will ye make subjects to control their princes
and rulers?'</p>
<p>'And what harm,' said the other, 'should the Commonwealth
receive, if that the corrupt affections of ignorant<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</SPAN></span>
rulers were moderated, and so bridled by the wisdom
and discretion of godly subjects that they should do
wrong nor violence to no man?'</p>
<p>But even the leading men of the Court, themselves
Protestants, were now beginning to be disquieted by a
sense that they did not know what their queen was
planning, and that they could not be responsible for
her actions. During this year, 1564, she was making
herself more independent, both of them and of her old
advisers in France; one great step being the promotion
of the Italian, Rizzio, who was now her confidential
secretary. The Spanish marriage was becoming more
hopeless, and the eyes of Mary's Catholic friends were
now turning in another direction. The man at the
English court nearest to the English throne was young
Henry Darnley, and Elizabeth had herself jealously
suggested that 'yonder long lad' might possibly please
her Scottish cousin. Mary and he were both great-grandchildren
of Henry VII., and their union would
consolidate the Scottish claim to the English crown—a
dangerous result for the daughter of Ann Boleyn.
That was a sufficient reason for Darnley not being
encouraged to go to Scotland; but he was at last
allowed to leave London secretly in February 1565.
The young people met in Wemyss Castle, and it was soon
plain that Mary and her handsome cousin were on the
best terms. Archbishop Beaton, acting as her secretary
in Paris, was still pressing King Philip, and on the 15th
of March he warned the Spanish ambassador that unless
his master came to the rescue Mary would have to throw
herself away on her English relative. There was no
response, and between the 7th and 10th of April, Mary
of Scots and Henry Lord Darnley were privately married
in Rizzio's apartment in Holyrood. No one knew it;
and nearly two months after, the Archbishop again urges
the King of Spain to consent, for his Queen is not yet<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</SPAN></span>
married, and there is still time for the greater alliance.
Seven weeks more passed, and on the 29th June the
public marriage took place, and Mary gave her husband
the title of king.</p>
<p>It was the downfall of Moray, and, as Knox points
out, of the whole temporising Protestant policy since the
Queen came to Scotland. Moray saw that clearly
enough, and confederating with a number of the other
Lords to protest against the marriage and the proposed
kingship, the whole party were within three months
driven out of Scotland by the energy of the Queen. In
the field, Knox confesses, 'her courage increased manlike
so much, that she was ever with the foremost.' And
in her proclamation she frankly made it her case against
the recalcitrant nobility</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'that the establishment of Religion will not content them, but
we must be forced to govern by Council, such as it shall please them
to appoint us; a thing so far beyond all measure, that we think
the only mention of so unreasonable a demand is sufficient ... for
what other thing is this but to dissolve the whole policy, and in a
manner to invert the very order of nature, to make the Prince obey
and subjects command?'</p>
</div>
<p>For now the triumph of absolutism and of Rizzio, as
the Papal agent, was complete—more so than Moray or
Knox knew. France and Spain, long divided, seemed
at last to be working together for the faith. And the
greatest of European monarchs, though he declined to
wed his heir in Scotland, had by no means abandoned
the cause there. On the contrary, in this very spring of
1565, while the Darnley-marriage was preparing, the
savage Alva and Granvelle were laying down at Bayonne,
by Philip's authority, the first lines of the plan for sending
an Armada against Protestant England, in order to
place Mary on its throne: and the assurance to that
effect, given by Alva's own lips to Mary's envoy, was<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</SPAN></span>
carried by him to Scotland in time to swell the exultation
of her nuptials.<SPAN name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</SPAN></p>
<p>One man was left in Scotland, and he now had at
least the people of Edinburgh with him. Darnley,
though a Catholic, thought it prudent to come to Knox's
preaching on a Sunday very soon after the marriage, but
was so unfortunate as to hear a sermon on the text—'Other
lords than Thou have had dominion over us.' The
preacher explained that in very bad cases of ingratitude
of the people, God permitted such lords to be 'boys and
women,' and the weakness of Ahab was specially dwelt
upon in not restraining his strong-minded wife. Worse
than all, the service was an hour longer than he had
expected; and the king, characteristically, 'would not
dine, and with great fury passed to the hawking.'
Knox was summoned to the Council, and ordered not
to preach while the Court remained in town. He gave
the particularly cautious answer that '<i>if the Church</i>
would command him either to speak or abstain, he
would obey, <i>so far</i> as the Word of God would permit
him'; but times were changed, and in this matter the
Church had now to obey the Authority. The Lords of
the Congregation, for four years the Queen of Scots'
nominal advisers, were very soon in exile in England;
and Queen Elizabeth, in mortal dread of the apprehended
union of France and Spain in a Catholic
crusade against her own crown, received 'her sister's
rebels' with upbraiding and almost menace. Knox and
the General Assembly maintained a defensive warfare all
through the year 1565-6. But they had no representation
in the Court, and Rizzio succeeded so far that
Mary herself tells<SPAN name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</SPAN> how she had arranged for the
counter-revolution being commenced by a Parliament in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</SPAN></span>
April 1566, 'the spiritual estate being placed therein in
the ancient manner, tending to have done some good
anent restoring the old religion.' Two things prevented
this smooth programme being carried out. Mary's
rather weak fancy for Darnley seems to have only lasted
for a few weeks after her marriage. He turned out to
be a fool; and his wife and the nobility declined to
promise him the Crown-matrimonial, <i>i.e.</i>, to make him
successor to her in case there were no children. Darnley
now courted the banished lords, and made a 'Band'
with them according to the old Scots fashion, a fashion
which was to break out nearer home in more savage
survival still. For Mary's imprudent favouritism of
Rizzio had roused the deadly jealousy both of her husband
and of the nobles who remained at home. And
on the 9th of March a band of men headed by Morton
and Ruthven dragged the Italian out from her supper-table
at Holyrood, and stabbed him to death in the
ante-chamber; Darnley and the lords remaining in order
to make terms with their Queen. The outrage was unavailing;
in two days Mary had talked over her husband,
escaped with him from Holyrood to Dunbar, and summoned
her new favourite, Lord Bothwell, to her aid.
Years before, when fighting the Earl of Huntly in the
far North, she had expressed to Randolph her regret
'that she was not a man to know what life it was to lie
all night in the fields, or to walk on the causeway, with
a jack and knapschalle, a Glasgow buckler, and a broadsword.'
And now, as before, her energy swept the
field clear of her enemies, and she returned to Edinburgh
victorious. Knox may not have known of the formal
Band; but he was even more opposed to his Queen than
were those who signed it, and on 17th March 1566 he
'departed of the Burgh at two hours afternoon, with a
great mourning of the godly of religion.' Five days
before, on the very day, indeed, after Mary had ridden<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</SPAN></span>
away through the night from Holyrood, he had penned,
'with deliberate mind to his God,' his retrospective confession,<SPAN name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</SPAN>
prefixing to it the prayer—</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit, and put an end, at thy good
pleasure, to this my miserable life; for justice and truth are not to
be found among the sons of men!'</p>
</div>
<p>It was the old sigh, which has been breathed from
the most heroic hearts in times of crisis and failure;
'Let me now die, for I am not better than my fathers!'
And here once again it was premature. For the Queen,
now awakened to the whole situation, saw how rash had
been her recent aggressive policy. After the birth of her
son in June 1566, instead of framing Parliamentary enactments
against the new religion, she vaguely proposed to
make some provision for the ministers, and allowed the
banished lords, one by one, to come back. And though
they now found their unfortunate confederate, Darnley,
in neglect and disgrace, they found also their sovereign
passing rapidly under a new and more controlling influence;
and the Earl of Bothwell was a nominal Protestant.
Knox at first was forbidden to return to his
pulpit, and he visited the Churches in Ayrshire and Fife,
occupying himself among other things in revising the
first four books of his history—the only part which is
finished by his trenchant pen. But in December the
General Assembly met in Edinburgh, and Knox was
with them. We have already seen the striking answer sent
by this Assembly<SPAN name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</SPAN> as to the proposed gifts of the Queen.
But their attention was arrested at this moment by another
and very inconsistent order of the Crown restoring the
Archbishop of St Andrews, the head of the old hierarchy,
to his consistorial jurisdiction, contrary to the law
of 1560. It was either a very absurd, or a very alarming,
step; and Knox, at the request of the Assembly,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</SPAN></span>
prepared a powerful manifesto on the subject. He then
went away, with their approval, on a long-meditated
visit to England, to visit his sons in Northumberland or
Yorkshire, and to strengthen his friends on the more
Puritan side of the English Church in their new troubles
under Elizabeth. Little is known of his proceedings
there; though he remained in England during the whole
time between the Assembly of December 1566 and
another which sat on 25th June 1567.</p>
<p>But between these dates, and in Knox's absence, the
most amazing tragedy in the history of Scotland had
unrolled itself in Edinburgh. Week by week, the increasing
power of Lord Bothwell over the Queen, and
her increasing dislike of her husband, had attracted the
attention of men. But before February there was a
sudden reconciliation between her and Darnley. She
brought him to a house in Kirk of Field, near Edinburgh,
and at midnight of the 9th it was blown up with gunpowder
by the servants of Bothwell, the body of the
King being found in the garden. On 21st April Bothwell
waylaid and carried off Mary to Dunbar. But he was
still a married man, having wedded Lord Huntly's sister
fourteen months before. And now in May, came in
the new consistorial jurisdiction of the Archbishop, for
the only act which that prelate ever performed under it
was to confirm a sentence of nullity of this very marriage,
and that on the ground that Bothwell and his wife being
too nearly related, had not procured a Papal dispensation
(the Papal dispensation having not only been procured
before the marriage, but having been granted by the
hands of the Archbishop himself as Legate). Ten days
after this divorce, and in spite of dissuasions from her
friends at home and abroad, the ill-fated Queen publicly
married the murderer of her husband, and the strong
shudder of disgust that passed through the commons of
Scotland shook her throne to the ground. So upon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</SPAN></span>
Mary's half-compulsory abdication, Moray became
Regent for the infant King, who was crowned at Stirling,
Knox preaching the coronation sermon. (There were
men present on this triumphal occasion before whom
he had preached once before in the same place, when
sunk in despair after that 'dark and dolorous' flight
from Edinburgh.) And now came that great winding
up already discussed in our last chapter, the Protestant
legislative settlement of Church matters in 1567.</p>
<p>It was the second great climax of Knox's life; and
now his public work was done. We shall not find it
necessary to follow his later years in detail. They were
troubled by ineffectual attempts to reverse the verdict of
the people already given. For Mary had a majority of the
nobles still with her, and Elizabeth of England resented
the claim of a nation to judge its sovereign. An appeal
to arms followed: the Regent was victorious at Langside,
and the Queen of Scots fled to a long captivity in
England. But her claims threw Scotland into civil war
during most of the remaining life of Knox. Moray was
assassinated in 1570 by one of the Hamiltons whose life
he had spared upon Knox's intercession; and next
Sunday Knox, who had long since returned into friendship
with him, preached on 'Blessed are the dead,' and
'moved three thousand persons to shed tears for the
loss of such a good and godly governor.' But Lethington
had now gone over to the exiled Queen, and took
with him even Kirkaldy, who had fought with Moray at
Langside. Henceforth the Castle, where they resided,
was a danger to Edinburgh, and in July, 1571, Knox,
by agreement of both parties there, was sent for a
twelvemonth to St Andrews to be out of harm's way.
He had left Edinburgh in wholly broken health, after a
fit of apoplexy: he returned feebler still, and had a colleague
at once appointed. Yet when the news came from
Paris, in September, 1572, of the great massacre of St<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</SPAN></span>
Bartholomew, Knox himself took charge of organising
the protest of Scotland against the gigantic crime. But
that crime of France saved Scotland, and the voice of
Scotland's leader was no longer needed. The end was
now near, and while 'so feeble as scarce can he stand
alone' he sends a farewell message to 'Mr Secretary
Cecil' through Killigrew, the new English envoy.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'John Knox doth reverence your Lordship much, and willed me
once again to send you word, that he thanked God he had obtained
at His hands, that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is truly and simply
preached throughout Scotland, which doth so comfort him as he
now desireth to be out of this miserable life.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</SPAN></p>
</div>
<p>And with an explosion, equally characteristic, against
one who had anonymously accused Knox of 'seeking
support against his native country,' we may close our
notices of this great public life.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>'I give him a lie in his throat!... What I have been to my
country, although this unthankful age will not know, yet the ages to
come will be compelled to bear witness to the truth.... To me
it seems a thing most unreasonable, that, in this my decrepit age,
I should be compelled to fight against shadows and howlets, that
dare not abide the light!'<SPAN name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</SPAN></p>
</div>
<hr />
<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES</h3>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></SPAN> 'Works,' ii. 126.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></SPAN> So much was this looked forward to, that two months <i>before
the death</i> of her husband King Francis, the English ambassador,
writing from Paris to London of the King's feeble health, says:
'There is much talk of the Queen's second marriage. Some talk
of the Prince of Spain, some of the Duke of Austrich, others of
the Earl of Arran.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></SPAN> 'Works,' ii. 277.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></SPAN> 'To Kings, Princes, Rulers, and Magistrates we affirm that,
chiefly and most principally, the reformation and purgation of the
Religion appertains, so that, not only are they appointed for civil
policy, but also for maintenance of the true Religion, and for suppressing
of idolatry and superstition whatsoever.... And, therefore,
we confess and avow that such as resist the supreme power
(doing that thing which appertains to his charge) do resist God's
ordinance, and therefore cannot be guiltless.'—'Works,' ii. 119.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></SPAN> Mary may not have met a Protestant teacher before, except
those whom she and her husband had more than once viewed suffering
on the scaffold; but she had read books like the Colloquies of
Erasmus with keen appreciation, she was instructed in the great
controversy from the Catholic side, and one of the youthful exercises
which remain written in her girlish hand is a letter to John Calvin
in defence of purgatory.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></SPAN> See Hume Brown, ii. 171, note.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></SPAN> 'Works,' ii. 276. Her answer to the General Assembly in
1565, was that 'she prays all her loving subjects, seeing they have had
experience of her goodness, that she neither has in times past,
nor yet means hereafter to press the conscience of any man, but that
they may worship God in such sort as they are persuaded to be best,
that they also will not press her to offend her own conscience.'—'Book
of the Universall Kirk,' p. 34.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></SPAN> The Pope had already, since her husband's death, sent her the
Golden Rose, with the suggestion that in Scotland she must be a
rose <i>among thorns</i>.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></SPAN> Labanoff's 'Lettres de Marie Stuart,' i. 177.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></SPAN> <SPAN href="#Page_89">Page 89</SPAN>.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></SPAN> The dates are indicated generally in Hill Burton's ' History,' iv,
133.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></SPAN> Labanoffs 'Lettres de Marie Stuart,' i. 342.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></SPAN> Page 28.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></SPAN> Page 113.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></SPAN> 'Works,' vi. 633.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></SPAN> 'Works,' vi. 596.</p>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />