Читать книгу Life of Mary Queen of Scots, Volume 1 (of 2) - Bell Henry Glassford - Страница 7

The time now approached when Henry began to think of confirming the French authority in Scotland, by consummating the contract of marriage which had so long existed between Francis and Mary. This was not, however, to be done without considerable opposition from several quarters. The Constable Montmorency, and the House of Bourbon, already trembled at the growing influence of the Guises, plainly foreseeing, that as soon as the niece of the Duke and Cardinal of Lorraine became wife to the Dauphin, and consequently, upon Henry’s death, Queen of France, their own influence would be at an end. It is not improbable that Montmorency aimed at marrying one of his own sons to Mary. At all events, he endeavoured to persuade Henry that he might find a more advantageous alliance for Francis. The Guises, however, were not thus to be overreached; and the King more willingly listened to their powerful representations in favour of the match, as it had long been a favourite scheme with himself. It would be uncharitable to ascribe to the agency of any of those who opposed it, an attempt which was made some time before by a person of the name of Stuart, a Scottish archer in the King’s guards, to poison Mary. Stuart being detected, was tried, condemned, and executed, but made no confession which could lead to any discovery of his motives. It is most likely that he had embraced the reformed religion, and was actuated by a fanatical desire to save his country from the dominion of a Catholic princess.

Francis, the young Dauphin, who was much about Mary’s own age, was far inferior to her, both in personal appearance and mental endowments. He was of a very weakly constitution; and the energies of his mind seem to have been repressed by the feebleness of his body. But if unable to boast of any distinguishing virtues, he was undegraded by the practice of any vice. He was amiable, timid, affectionate, and shy. He was aware of his want of physical strength, and feared lest the more robust should make it a subject of ridicule. He appears to have loved Mary with the tenderest affection, being probably anxious to atone to her, by every mark of devotion, for the sacrifice he must have seen she was making in surrendering herself to him, in all the lustre of her charms. Yet there is good reason to believe that Mary really loved Francis. They had been playmates from infancy; they had prosecuted all their studies together; and though Francis cared little for the pleasures of society, and rather shunned than encouraged those who wished to pay their court to him, Mary was aware that, for this very reason, he was only the more sincere in his passion for her. It was not in Mary’s nature to be indifferent to those who evinced affection for her; and if her fondness for Francis were mingled with pity, it has long been asserted, that “pity is akin to love”.

On the 24th of April 1558, the nuptials took place. In December the preceding year, a letter from Henry had been laid before the Scotch Parliament, requesting that some persons of rank should be sent over from Scotland as Commissioners to witness the marriage; and in compliance with this desire, the Lord James, Prior of St Andrews, and eight other persons of distinction, arrived at the French Court in March 1558.16 Their instructions commanded them to guard against French encroachments, upon the rights and privileges of Scottish subjects; and, that no doubt might remain regarding the right of succession to the Scottish throne, they were to obtain from the King of France a ratification of his former promise, to aid and support the Duke of Chatelherault in his claims upon the crown, in case Mary died without issue. They were also to require a declaration to a similar effect from the Queen and Dauphin. All these demands were at once complied with.

It has been alleged, however, that a very gross deceit was practised, upon this occasion, by the French Court. It is said, that though, to satisfy the Scotch Commissioners, all their requests were ostensibly granted, Henry took secret measures to render these grants entirely inefficacious. Mary, it is asserted, on the 4th of April, signed three papers, in the first of which she made over the kingdom of Scotland in free gift to the King of France, to be enjoyed by him and his heirs, should she die without children; in the second, (lest it might not be deemed expedient to insist upon the first,) she assigned to the King of France the possession of Scotland, after her decease without children, till he should be reimbursed of a million pieces of gold, or any greater sum which he should be found to have expended on her during her residence in France; and, in the third, she protested, that whatever declarations she might subscribe, in compliance with the desire of the Scotch Parliament, touching the lineal succession of her crown, the genuine sense of her mind was contained only in the two preceding papers.17 If this dishonourable transaction really took place, whilst it cannot involve Mary, a young and inexperienced girl of fifteen, in any serious blame, it certainly reflects the highest discredit both upon Henry and his advisers of the house of Guise. There is good reason, however, to believe, that these instruments, though they unquestionably exist, are forgeries. It was not an uncommon trick in those times, for the Reformers to stir up jealousy against a Catholic sovereign, by alleging, that he had promised away his country to some well known papist. The Prince of Condé, in December 1568, was not aware of the authenticity of any such papers; for, if he had been, he would undoubtedly have mentioned them when he asked Elizabeth’s assistance to establish the Protestant religion in France. On the contrary, he trumps up a ridiculous story, to which no one has ever given any credit, that Mary had ceded her right to the crown of England, in behalf of the King of France’s brother, Henry Duke of Anjou. After Mary’s death, it was confidently reported, and with equal falsehood, that by her testament she had left England to the King of Spain, unless her son became a Roman Catholic. There is, besides, internal evidence of a striking nature, that these deeds were forgeries. For its discovery, we are indebted to the industry and research of Goodall.18

Some of the provisions in the marriage-contract between Francis and Mary, are sufficiently remarkable to deserve being recorded. The jointure assigned by it to the Queen, provided her husband died King of France, is 60,000 livres, or a greater sum, if a greater had ever been given to a Queen of France. If her husband died only Dauphin, the jointure was to be 30,000 livres. The eldest son of the marriage was to be King of France and Scotland; and if there were no sons, the eldest daughter was to be Queen of Scotland only, with a portion of 400,000 crowns, as a daughter of France, – every younger daughter being allowed 300,000 crowns. Should her husband die, Mary was to be at liberty either to remain in France or return to Scotland, with an assurance that her jointure would be always duly paid her. The Dauphin was to bear the name and title of King of Scotland, and enjoy all the privileges of the crown-matrimonial.

The marriage, for which so many preparations had thus been made, was solemnized in the church of Notre Dame, the ceremony being performed by the Cardinal of Bourbon, Archbishop of Rouen. Upon this occasion, the festivities were graced by the presence of all the most illustrious personages of the Court of France; and when Francis, taking a ring from his finger, presented it to the Archbishop, who, pronouncing the benediction, placed it on the young Queen’s finger, the vaulted roof of the Cathedral rung with congratulations, and the multitude without rent the air with joyful shouts. The spectacle was altogether one of the most imposing which, even in that age of spectacles, had been seen in Paris. The procession, upon leaving the church, proceeded to the palace of the Archbishop, where a magnificent collation was prepared, – largess, as it moved along, being proclaimed among the people, in the name of the King and Queen of Scots. In the afternoon, the royal party returned to the palace of the Tournelles – Catherine de Medicis and Mary sitting together in the same palanquin, and a Cardinal walking on each side. Henry and Francis followed on horseback, with a long line of princes and princesses in their train. The chronicler of these nuptials is unable to conceal his rapture, when he describes the manner in which the palace had been prepared for their reception. Its whole appearance, he tells us, was “light and beautiful as Elysium.” During supper, which was served upon a marble table in the great hall, the King’s band of “one hundred gentlemen” poured forth delicious strains of music. The members of Parliament attended in their robes; and the princes of the blood performed the duty of servitors – the Duke of Guise acting as master of the ceremonies. The banquet being concluded, a series of the most magnificent masks and mummeries, prepared for the occasion, was introduced. In the pageant, twelve artificial horses, of admirable mechanism, covered with cloth of gold, and ridden by the young heirs of noble houses, attracted deserved attention. They were succeeded by six galleys, which sailed into the hall, each rich as Cleopatra’s barge, and bearing on its deck two seats, the one filled by a young cavalier, who, as he advanced, carried off from among the spectators, and gently placed in the vacant chair, the lady of his love. A splendid tournament concluded these rejoicings.

During the whole of these solemnities, every eye was fixed on the youthful Mary; and, inspired by those feelings which beauty seldom fails to excite, every heart offered up prayers for her future welfare and happiness. She was now at that age when feminine loveliness is perhaps most attractive. It is not to be supposed, indeed, that in her sixteenth year, her charms had ripened into that full-blown maturity which they afterwards attained; but they were, on this account, only the more fascinating. Some have conjectured that Mary’s beauty has been extolled far beyond its real merits; and it cannot be denied that many vague and erroneous notions exist regarding it. But that her countenance possessed in a pre-eminent degree the something which constitutes beauty, is sufficiently attested by the unanimous declaration of all cotemporary writers. It is only, however, by carefully gathering together hints scattered here and there, that any accurate idea can be formed of the lineaments of a countenance which has so long ceased to exist, unless in the fancy of the enthusiast. Generally speaking, Mary’s features were more Grecian than Roman, though without the insipidity that would have attached to them, had they been exactly regular. Her nose exceeded a little the Grecian proportion in length. Her hair was very nearly of the same colour as James V.’s – dark yellow, or auburn, and, like his, clustered in luxuriant ringlets. Her eyes, – which some writers, misled by the thousand blundering portraits of her scattered everywhere, conceive to have been gray, or blue, or hazel, – were of a chestnut colour, – darker, yet matching well with her auburn hair. Her brow was high, open, and prominent. Her lips were full and expressive, as the lips of the Stuarts generally were; and she had a small dimple in her chin. Her complexion was clear, and very fair, without a great deal of colour in her cheeks. Her mother was a woman of large stature, and Mary was also above the common size. Her person was finely proportioned, and her carriage exceedingly graceful and dignified.19

In this description of Mary’s personal appearance, we have placed a good deal of reliance on the research and accuracy of Chalmers. It will be observed, that our account differs, in many essential particulars, from that of Robertson, who says – “Mary’s hair was black, though, according to the fashion of that age, she frequently wore borrowed locks, and of different colours. Her eyes were a dark gray; her complexion was exquisitely fine; and her hands and arms remarkably delicate, both as to shape and colour. Her stature was of an height that rose to the majestic.” Where Robertson discovered that Mary’s hair was black, or her eyes gray, he does not mention. That her eyes were not black, we have the direct testimony of Beal, Clerk to the Privy Council of England, who was ordered by Cecil to be present at the death of the Scottish Queen, and who describes her as having “chestnut-coloured eyes.” As to her hair, and her other features, though Melville, in his Memoirs, certainly seems to imply that the former was auburn, yet, as he does not expressly say so, we suspect correct conclusions can be arrived at only by a reference to the best authenticated portraits which have been preserved of Mary. This, however, is far from being a criterion by which opinions should be rashly formed. There are few persons in the whole range of history, likenesses of whom have been more eagerly sought after; and, in proportion to the anxiety manifested to secure originals, has been the temptation to mislead and deceive. Almost all the paintings said to be originals of Mary Queen of Scots, are the impositions of picture-dealers. When the demand for these paintings became general, it was not at all unusual to despatch emissaries over the Continent to pick up every picture, the costume and general appearance of which in the least resembled the Scottish Queen. During Mary’s life, and for some time after her death, the fame of her beauty, and the interest attached to her fortunes, induced numerous ladies of rank, who flattered themselves that they were like her, to have portraits painted in the style then well understood by the phrase à la Mary Stuart. There was, in particular, a celebrated Continental beauty of those days – a Countess of Mansfeldt – (we speak on the authority of a living artist of celebrity), who resembled Mary in many particulars, and all whose portraits (nor were they few in number) when they afterwards came into the hands of the picture-dealers, were affirmed to be Maries. Thus, in the lapse of years, the truth became so involved in uncertainty, that even Robertson, allowing himself to be too hastily misled, has lent his name to the dissemination of error.

Horace Walpole, after having made extensive inquiries on this subject, has recorded, that he never could ascertain the authenticity and originality of any portrait of Mary, except of that in the possession of the Earl of Morton, which was painted when she was at Lochleven. Chalmers, in order to come as near the truth as possible, employed Mr Pailou, an artist of ability, to compare the picture belonging to the Earl of Morton, with two or three other undoubted originals which have been discovered since Walpole wrote. Pailou commenced by sketching the outline of his picture from Lord Morton’s original. He then proceeded to the examination of three genuine portraits of Mary, one in the Church of St Andrew in Antwerp, another in the Scotch College at Douay, and a third in the Scotch College at Paris. Neither did he forget the profile heads of Mary struck upon her coins, nor the marble figure representing her on her tomb in Henry VII’s Chapel, which Walpole thought a correct likeness. Mr Pailou thus made Lord Morton’s picture the basis of his own, but, as he advanced, constantly referred to the others, “till he got the whole adjusted and coloured.” Though we cannot exactly approve of thus cooking up a picture from various different sources, and should be inclined to think, that too much was left by such a mode of procedure to the arbitrary taste of the artist, we nevertheless feel satisfied that Mr Pailou has hit upon a tolerably accurate likeness. His picture, engraved by Scriven, forms the frontispiece to the second volume of Chalmers’s work. The brow, eyes, mouth, and chin, he has given with great success. But the painting is far from being without faults; – the face is a good deal too round and plump, the nose is made slightly aquiline – a decided mistake, – and the neck is much too short, at least so it appears in the engraving.

The portrait of Mary, which forms the frontispiece to the present volume, and on which we place greater reliance than on any with which we are acquainted, is an engraving executed expressly for this work, from an original picture of much merit.20 It was painted when Mary was in France, by an Italian artist of eminence, who flourished as her cotemporary in the sixteenth century, and whose name is on the canvas. It would have been impossible to say at what precise age it represented Mary, though, from the juvenility of the countenance, it might have been concluded that it was taken a year or two before she became Dauphiness, had not the painter fortunately obviated the difficulty, by inserting immediately after his own signature the date, which is 1556, when she was just fourteen. It is upon this picture that we have chiefly founded our description of Mary’s personal appearance. What gives us the greater confidence in its authenticity and accuracy, is, that it very exactly corresponds with two other portraits, believed on good grounds to be originals. This is a strong circumstance, for it is a very common and just remark, that almost no two likenesses of Mary agree. The paintings to which we allude are, first, one at the seat of Logie Almond, which represents Mary at the same age, but in a religious habit. It gives precisely the same view of the left side of the face as the engraving in this volume does of the right. From the style and other circumstances, it is very probable, that both pictures were painted by the same artist. The second is in the possession of his Grace the Duke of Hamilton, and is in one of the private apartments at Hamilton palace. It represents Mary at a somewhat more advanced period of life, but the features are quite the same. There is still a third picture, said to be an original, in the collection of the Marquis of Salisbury, at Hatfield House, and which has been engraved for Miss Benger’s Memoirs, which very closely resembles our own. To be yet more assured, we have carefully examined the heads upon Mary’s gold and silver coins. Some of these are inaccurate, but they have all a general resemblance to each other. A silver coin, of 1561, and the gold real stamped in 1562, agree minutely with our picture, – a circumstance which cannot but be considered a strong corroboration of its truth. It is unnecessary to make any apology to the reader for having entered thus minutely upon a subject of so much general interest.21

With regard to the asseverations of cotemporary writers, as to the effects which Mary’s beauty produced, many of them are almost too extravagant to be believed. They prove, nevertheless, that, whatever beauty may be, whether a mere fortunate arrangement of material atoms, or a light suffused upon the face, from the secret and etherial mind, it was a gift which Nature had lavishly bestowed on Mary. A year or two previous to her marriage, when walking in a religious procession, through the streets of Paris, with a lighted torch in her hand, a woman among the crowd was so struck with her appearance, that she could not help stopping her to ask, – “Are you not indeed an angel?” Brantome, with more questionable sincerity, compares her, at the age of fifteen, to the sun at mid-day. He tells us also, that the brother of Francis, afterwards Charles IX., never saw even a picture of Mary, without lingering to gaze upon it, declaring passionately, that he looked upon Francis as the happiest man on earth, to possess a creature of so much loveliness. Nay, Brantome even goes the length of asserting, that no man ever saw Mary who did not lose his heart to her. He is pleased, likewise, with some naïveté, to pay her several high compliments at the expense of her native country. It appears that Mary, amidst all the gaieties of the French Court, had not forgot her early residence at Inchmahome, in the quiet lake of Monteith. Actuated by these recollections and other motives, she delighted to testify her regard for Scotland in various ways; and, among others, by frequently wearing in public the graceful Highland costume. The rich and national Stuart tartan became her exceedingly; and Brantome, who seems to have been greatly puzzled by the novelty of the dress, is nevertheless forced to declare, that when arrayed after “the barbarous fashion of the savages of her country, she appeared a goddess in a mortal body, and in a most outré and astonishing garb.” Mary herself, was so fond of this costume, that she wore it in one of the portraits which were taken of her in France. If she appeared so beautiful thus “habillée à la sauvage,” exclaims Brantome, “what must she not be in her rich and lovely robes made à la Française, ou l’Espagnole, or with a bonnet à l’Italienne; or in her flowing white dress, contending in vain with the whiteness of her skin!” Even when she sung, and accompanied herself upon the lute, Brantome found occasion to discover a new beauty, – “her soft snowy hand and fingers, fairer than Aurora’s.” “Ah royaume d’Escosse!” he touchingly adds, “Je croy que, maintenant, vos jours sont encore bien plus courts qu’ils n’estoient, et vos nuits plus longues, puisque vous avez perdu cette Princesse qui vos illuminoit!” The historian, Castelnau, in like manner, pronounces Mary “the most beautiful and accomplished of her sex;” and Mezeray tells us, that “Nature had bestowed upon her every thing that is necessary to form a complete beauty;” adding, that “by the study of the liberal arts and sciences, especially painting, music, and poetry, she had so embellished her natural good qualities, that she appeared to be the most amiable Princess in Christendom.” On the occasion of her marriage, not only were the brains of all the jewellers, embroiderers, and tailors of Paris put in requisition, but a whole host of French poets felt themselves suddenly inspired. Epithalamiums poured in from all quarters, spiced with flattery of all kinds, few of which have been borne down the stream of time so honourably for their author’s abilities as that of Buchanan, who, having long struggled with poverty, had at last risen to independence, under the patronage of Cardinal Lorraine. This poem is well known, but is not more complimentary than that of Joachim du Bellay, who, after comparing Mary to Venus, concludes his song with these lines: —