Showing posts with label Earl of Bothwell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Earl of Bothwell. Show all posts

Friday, July 14, 2017

Did the Queen Kill Her Husband? The First Trial of Mary, Queen of Scots

by Barbara Kyle

Mary, Queen of Scots

The news that reached London astonished Queen Elizabeth and all her court. Her cousin Mary, Queen of Scots, had been defeated on the battlefield near Glasgow and in terror had fled to England. She had arrived in a fishing boat on the coast of Cumbria with nothing but the clothes she stood up in. It was May 1568.

Mary instantly wrote to her "dear cousin" Elizabeth asking for her protection and her support. Eager for revenge, Mary wanted to rage back to Scotland at the head of an army and vanquish her enemies. Those enemies were led by her own half-brother, the Earl of Moray. 

The year before, Moray and his confederates had forced her (she said at knife-point) to abdicate and had taken over the government. He had also accused her of adultery and conspiring with her lover to murder her husband, Lord Darnley.

Welcome to the shark-infested waters of 16th-century Scottish politics.

Mary and Darnley
Darnley had indeed been murdered - the house he was staying in near Edinburgh was blown up. It had been undermined with kegs of gunpowder. Charges for masterminding the crime were laid against the Earl of Bothwell, the tough military man Mary had turned to when her marriage had soured. Many believed their relationship was adulterous. At his trial Bothwell was acquitted, thanks to Mary's support, and three months after Darnley's death she took Bothwell as her new husband.

Moray then accused Mary herself of the murder and imprisoned her. Bothwell fled to Denmark. Mary escaped, raised an army, and that's when she came up against Moray's army on the Glasgow battlefield. She lost, losing her kingdom for a second time. She was twenty-six years old.

Arriving in England as a royal refugee, Mary fully expected the support of her cousin Elizabeth. Mary was often blind to reality when she had a passionate stake in a situation, and never was she more blind than when she asked Elizabeth for help.

That's because Mary's arrival in England created a terrible quandary for Elizabeth. England was Protestant, but a large, disgruntled portion of its people were Catholics who believed that Mary, a pious Catholic, should be on the throne, since they regarded Elizabeth as illegitimate and a heretic. Both queens had Tudor blood. (Elizabeth was the granddaughter of the first Tudor monarch, Henry VII; Mary was his great-granddaughter.) 

Elizabeth, unmarried at thirty-five, had no children, and Mary had the best claim to succeed her. Elizabeth feared that Mary would be a lightning rod for these disaffected Catholics to rise up to depose her. If they tried, Mary could expect the backing of the mightiest power in Europe, Catholic Spain.  

Elizabeth's councillors were appalled at the thought of Mary moving freely about England to draw Catholics to her cause, and they advised her to imprison Mary. Elizabeth recoiled at that, for she took her cousin's royal status very seriously. However, she knew that Mary was a dangerous threat to her throne. So, crafty ruler that she was, she found a way forward. 

Her solution was Machiavellian - and pure Elizabeth. She let it be know that, much as she sympathized with her fellow queen, she could not support her if Mary was, indeed, an adulteress and a murderer. To discover the truth, she proclaimed, she would hold an inquiry into the charges against Mary.  

In soothing letters to her cousin she assured her that if the charges proved unfounded, as Mary vehemently insisted, Elizabeth would wholeheartedly back her in restoring her to her Scottish throne. Elizabeth's tactic was one that modern-day crafters of smear campaigns would appreciate. Dirt, once it is hurled, tends to stick. If it did, Elizabeth would be free to abandon Mary and uphold the alliance she wanted with Moray's Protestant government in Scotland. Mary, at this point, was notorious for the scandals that had swirled around her, so at the news that there would be an inquiry all of Europe waited, agog, for the outcome.

It was not called a trial, since English courts had no jurisdiction over foreign rulers, but for all intents and purposes, a trial is what it was. Elizabeth set the venue; the proceedings would take place at York, then move to Westminster. She invited the Earl of Moray to come and argue his case before her commissioners. He eagerly agreed, and set out from Edinburgh with a rookery of lawyers.

Westminster
Mary was furious. She said there was only one way she would appear to answer charges made by her subjects: if they were brought before her in chains. She refused to attend the inquiry. It was one of the many impetuous decisions she made that doomed her, for by all accounts she had extraordinary charm and had she attended she might very possibly have won the commissioners' sympathy. Instead, she appointed commissioners to act in her name, Lord Herries and the Bishop of Ross. These men were staunchly loyal to her, but they did not have her "star" power.

Elizabeth appointed the Duke of Norfolk, the premier peer of her realm, to preside. But Norfolk, like just about everyone involved in this intricate piece of political theater, including Elizabeth, had a hidden agenda. Mary, ever seeking to enhance her power base in England, had made Norfolk an offer he could not resist: marriage. Secretly, in letters, the two formed a marriage plan. For Norfolk, it was the brass ring. Mary had the best claim to be Elizabeth's heir, and if she came to the throne, then he, as her husband, would be king. Norfolk, therefore, was secretly predisposed to find Mary innocent.

But then something happened that changed the course of the proceedings, and of history. Moray presented evidence to the English commissioners: eight letters written by Mary to the Earl of Bothwell while she was married to Darnley. These have become known as the "casket letters," so named because, Moray said, they were found in a small silver casket in Bothwell's house after he had fled the country. Found under a bed!

How convenient, Mary raged. She had good reason to rage, for she only heard of this development from leaks. Moray had presented the letters to Elizabeth's commissioners alone, in secret. Mary was not allowed to see the evidence that was to damn her.

And damning it was. The letters were the intimate words of a woman to her lover. She called herself "the most faithful lover that ever you had or shall have" and "I end, after kissing your hands...your humble and faithful lover who hopeth shortly to be another thing unto you for my pains...Love me always, as I shall love you." "I remit myself wholly unto your will." Worse, they indicated that Mary and Bothwell had indeed been plotting to kill Darnley. "Burn this letter, for it is too dangerous." News of the letters, carefully leaked, shocked all of Europe.

Mary swore to her dying day that the letters were forged. And the fact that she was allowed no rebuttal at the inquiry was such a miscarriage of justice, her furious commissioners withdrew in protest.

Elizabeth gave Mary one last chance to come before the inquiry and defend herself. Mary refused, sure that such a desperate move would be a virtual confession of guilt. But the damage had already been done. Mary's reputation was in tatters. Even many of her Catholic followers turned away from her. Elizabeth was satisfied. She wrapped up the inquiry without even proclaiming a verdict. She didn't need to.

Did Mary plot with Bothwell to murder her husband? We may never know. The casket letters no longer exist. Moray took them back to Scotland where they eventually ended up in the possession of Mary's son, James. He became king, and the letters were never seen again.

Mary never regained her freedom. Elizabeth kept her under house arrest for the next nineteen years. Hers was a comfortable captivity, spent in a series of old castles with a small retinue to serve her, but it was captivity nonetheless. During those nineteen years she plotted ceaselessly to take Elizabeth's crown. 

Eventually, she was part of a plot in which her own writings - irrefutable this time - proved her guilt. Elizabeth had had enough. Charged with conspiring to murder Elizabeth, Mary came to trial in October 1586. This time, it was not her reputation that was in jeopardy, it was her life. 

The trial was a mere formality, its outcome never in question. Three months later Mary was executed, beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

The famous rivalry between these two queens has enthralled the world for over four hundred years. It enthralls us still.



An Editor's Choice, originally published 29 April 2013.
~~~~~~~~~~~~


Barbara Kyle is the author of the Tudor-era "Thornleigh" novels including,  The Queen's Gamble, The Queen's Captive, The King's Daughter, The Queen's Lady, and Blood Between Queens.

Website: www.BarbaraKyle.com
Facebook: Barbara Kyle Author Page
Twitter: BKyleAuthor

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

The Devil's Halloween in the Kirkyard of North Berwick and Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell

by Linda Root


copyright by Russ Root Art & Design

When I  read the name Bothwell  I think of James Hepburn, the 4th earl, Marie Stuart's controversial, egotistical, erudite and macho third husband, the one who either kidnapped and raped her or sold her on the idea of pretending that he had.  A good way for the couple to silence critics of her hasty marriage to the principal suspect in her second  husband Darnley's  murder was to paint it as a kidnap-rape. Back in those times, one way for a woman to avoid the stigma  of a ravishment was to wed the rapist. If Bothwell had been a wee bit less arrogant, it might have worked.

The next Earl of Bothwell, the 5th one, was  every bit as arrogant  and no less audacious. Lord Francis Stewart was James Hepburn's nephew, and he had a most intriguing pedigree. It is strange that so self-assured a man did not leave a portrait behind.  His mother Jean Hepburn was James Hepburn's only sister, but his father Lord John Stewart was the favorite among several illegitimate siblings of the Queen of Scots. Thus, Marie Stuart was both a natural aunt and an aunt by marriage to a man that many Scots regarded as a demon or a witch. One of the Scots who came to regard him in that light was his cousin King James VI.

Those of you who are familiar with the better known of the Bothwells, the Queen of Scots' third husband Lord James Hepburn, may recall that one of the allegations brought against him was that he and other members of his family dabbled in the occult, and that they had cast some sort of spell on Marie Stuart to keep her in  Hepburn's thrall.

His former mistress was Janet Beaton, Lady of Branxholme and Buccleugh, who was Jean Hepburn's close friend  and who was so closely linked  to occult practices that Walter Scott wrote a poem (The Lay of the Last Minstrel)  in which she appears as 'The Wizard Lady of  Branxholme.'. It is considered the work that established Sir Walter Scott as a rising literary talent.



She was not the only one of Bothwell's female friends with a colorful reputation. Reports of scandal involving Francis's mother Jean made it all the way to the English court, compliments of Sir Thomas Randolph, ambassador from the throne of Saint George to the throne of Saint Andrew.  And Randolph seemed to have the inside scoop, since he was the lover of one of the Four Maries, Marie Beaton, Janet Beaton's niece.  

During the six year personal rule of the Queen of Scots, witchcraft was not the major issue that it became during the rule of her son, who even wrote a book about it.  Dabbling in the occult was not unknown among the Scottish aristocracy, although it had not gained the notoriety it evoked in eastern Europe and Scandinavia. The king's cousin, Margaret Flemyng, Countess of Atholl, had been present in his birthing chamber to cast the Queen of Scots' labor pains on Lady Reres, whose birth name was Margaret Beaton.

Janet Beaton's sister, Lady Margaret Flemyng was believed to sponsor a coven of Dianists in Blair, perhaps the original Blair witch project. When James VI reached adulthood, he had concerns about his cousin Margaret Flemyng's link to Dianism, but he did not strike out against her. His attack on witches came later.

When the 4th earl kidnapped and allegedly raped the queen on April 24, 1567, he carried her off to Dunbar Castle, which had been given to him by Parliament the week before. That is one of the aspects of the rape story that gives it credibility.  Not only was Hepburn in good stead with Parliament, on the last night of the Parliamentary session, the Earl threw a dinner party at which a long list of the most powerful men in Scotland gave him a written endorsement as a potential husband of the queen.

He presented it to her the following day thinking she would be delighted, and she turned him down. There is a good argument that the rejection cause him to resort to violence. At any rate, he ambushed her and carted her off to Dunbar Castle, with or without her collusion. While she was his purported prisoner there, she was attended by the Beaton sisters and Bothwell's sister, Lady Jean. Her apologists later claimed that she was not a wanton, she was bewitched.


Entrance to stables at Crichton
With so much witchcraft in his family history, it is fair to assume that while growing up at Crichton and Hailes, the youthful Francis Stewart, 5th Earl of Bothwell, had more than a casual exposure to the occult.  His father died shortly after his birth and he had been raised  by a group of very formidable and non-conforming women.

Like most Scottish aristocrats, he finished his education in Europe, and after a stint at the Sorbonne, he studied art in Naples where he became even more attracted to the occult. He returned to Scotland to ingratiate himself to his cousin James and soon became a significant member of the privy council.

He also remained a devoted Marian, and in 1587 when Marie Stuart was the victim of state sanctioned murder, he became an outspoken critic of the king. He made no secret of his disgust with James VI for failing to march south to avenge his mother, and the king had him locked  away for fear that he would  build himself an army and take care of the matter himself.

As was the practice between the two young cousins, it all blew over, and by the time James VI had decided on a bride, he and his cousin Frank were on friendly terms, or so James thought. When the king sailed to Denmark to claim his bride, he left Bothwell with substantial power. James VI had unwittingly turned his back on a demon in disguise.

Then came All Hallows Eve of 1590 when the witches upstaged the Danish wedding festivities of James Stuart, King of Scots,and Princess Anna of Denmark, by planning a Halloween gathering in the churchyard at North Berwick. Several of the party goers were said to have flown about on broomsticks and the Devil himself was Guest of Honor.  It is more than a little bit likely that there were hallucinogens in the many bonfires and that the devil had spiked the punch.


copyright Russ Root
There was a dark purpose to this 16th century Halloween party, and it was political.  King James VI was on his way to Denmark to collect his bride, the Danish Princess Anna, and not all Scots were in favor of the union. The kirk's graveyard was close to the pier and North Berwick was the perfect site for conjuring up a storm at sea. Generally the North Sea in autumn didn't need much conjuring to set it raging. And the devil directed the entire affair.

At the trials that came later there was testimony from those who touched him. His hand was hard and brittle, not unlike what one would expect if some animal parts had been coated with the juices from a lac beetle. The devil spoke to his minions in a low resonant voice through a mask that some said resembled a goat's head and others described as mostly hidden from view by a hooded cape that did not quite cover a nose that resembled an eagle's beak.

No one seemed clear as to how the Lord of Evil got there or how he left, but most witnesses agreed that there was some sort of smoke cloud and some foul-smelling vapors. There was also a good deal of libation being passed around.

Agnes Sampson, Agnes Thompson, Dr. James Fian, Barbara Napier and Euphemic McCalyan seemed to be in charge. The latter two women were high born and well known to Edinburgh society. Both had played substantial roles in the planning of the affair, and Mistress Napier had offered her kitchen as a place to concoct a witch's brew. Dr. Fian contributed the mandatory black toad. Agnes Sampson produced a wax effigy of the king to be cast into a fire when the Devil so directed.

The entire enterprise was not just a one night affair. There were minor experiments and practice sessions but the meeting in the kirkyard with the Devil in attendance was the grand finale. At some point in the revelries, Fian directed the others into the abbey church and the presence of their master. While no one at the subsequent trials identified the devil by name, the dialogue he delivered from the pulpit suggested that he was an ardent fan of the Earl of Bothwell and a bitter critic of the king. Bothwell himself did not appear personally that night, at least not out of costume, but his name was bandied about as the solution to most of Scotland's problems. When his congregation went back outside to perform their rituals, the honored guest disappeared in a cloud of white smoke.

And then, there were the cats. Stories differ as to whether there was one black cat or many, and they range from the moderately bizarre to the utterly inhumane. By some accounts a black cat was tortured, decorated with human body parts that had been exhumed from an opened grave, passed through a bonfire so its fur, or what was left of it would take on the scents and hallucinogenic properties of certain herbs and spices that had been added to the fire, (which would explain why so many witnesses testified later that they had been flying around on broomsticks and axe handles).

At any rate, at some point, one or several tormented cats were thrown into the sea. Some reports suggest that an immediate squall ensued and others indicated that the squalling was coming from the still living cats who managed to swim to shore. Later efforts may not have been as spectacular but they were easier to control once it was decided to strangle the cats before casting them into the surf.


Wikimedia commons, Chosovi. 
There were by some reports as many as two hundred people at the ceremony, but initially it attracted little attention. Although witchcraft was forbidden in Scotland, it had not been treated as a serious problem until King James ended up drinking a kingly share of ale and beer with his Danish hosts.

The Danes were well known for two characteristics--they loved the spirits they could swallow and hated those who went bump in the Danish night.  They convinced the king that witches were  to be dealt with harshly. It was well known that in the original  nuptial plans, James had not intended to sail off to Denmark with John Maitland of Thirlestane  so he could consummate his proxy marriage. Presumably the bride was coming to him.

But three unusually fierce early storms had driven her back each time she embarked. Thirlestane was inclined to blame it on the notorious North Sea, but the Danes were certain that witches were to blame. With a little digging, the events at North Berwick became big news.

{{PD-Art}}Wikimedea Commons
When James arrived back in Scotland, he launched a major investigation, and when it came time to interrogate the suspects, he personally participated. One of the first to reveal the details of the plot was a servant girl named Gelie Duncan, whose employer had noted her numerous nocturnal absences and found them suspicious enough to investigate.  As with most widespread investigations, the minor players were the one who got caned, racked and toasted.


{{PD-Art}}
Gelie confessed to the king that she had actually played a jews' harp at the Halloween gathering while the others danced a reel, and James was so fascinated that he called for one and had her play it while she did her devil's dance.

Many of the subsequent interrogations were conducted in the king's presence, and the earl of Bothwell's name kept coming up. The most damning evidence came from Robert Graham, a reputed necromancer whose statements revealed the long-time interest of Francis Stewart in the dark arts. The king realized His own Majesty had been the target of the gathering in North Berwick, and that he was facing something far more sinister than his cousin Margaret of Atholl's curious childbed incantations. This was treason.

Bothwell was indeed tried for treason by conspiring to bring about the death of the king.  Like his Uncle James had done in 1567 when tried for the queen's second husband Darnley's murder, the Earl of Bothwell packed the town with Borderers and others of his followers, and he was acquitted by men who sensed that the members of a jury that found the Earl of Bothwell guilty would not leave the Tollbooth alive. Bothwell spoke out in his own defense and did what most other Scottish aristocrats had found to be effective --he blamed the entire affair on Chancellor Thirlestane, who was nothing but an upstart of common birth.

Thereafter, Francis Stewart's conduct grew more and more bizarre. People referred to him as Wild Frank. He became increasingly aggressive with the king and on one occasion accosted him while he was sitting on the privy.

He managed to spend the next few years alternately harassing and charming King James and Queen Anna, but eventually he alienated himself from the Protestant kirk which began criticizing him from its pulpits. To retaliate, the militant Protestant became a militant Catholic and attempted to engage the  great northern Catholic houses in rebellions that achieved little more than getting the earls of Huntly and Errol exiled.

By then, James had conducted his interrogations and with the aid of a variety of creative torture devices, the prosecutors got their convictions. Some of the high profile females were strangled and then burned and a couple of the low born women were burned alive. Eventually Dr. Fian was also strangled and thrown into the fire. He had confessed to all sorts of sins after the inquisitors ripped his fingernails and toenails out.

Bothwell eventually found himself friendless and fled first to France and then to Spain where he lived off the dole of kings Felipe II and III. He continued plotting against his cousin James VI and made a number of unsuccessful attempts to launch an invasion from the Spanish Netherlands. By the end of the century, the Free Dutch Republic and the English had all but bankrupted the Hapsburg kings of Spain; the Archdukes of the Spanish Netherlands, Albert and Isabella, wanted nothing to do with Stewart's madcap plans, and Bothwell's financial support dissolved. He ended up in Naples where he spent the remainder of his life dabbling in the occult. His wife and eight children remained in Scotland at the indulgence of the king.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
1. For a full account of the affair, do not miss :
Watson, Godfrey, Bothwell & The Witches, Robert HaleI, London, 1975.
2.Although his son and his son's descendants used the title in spite of the attaint, Francis Stewart was the last holder of the undisputed Bothwell title, and the male line died out in 1683.
3. Original artwork by permission of the artist Russ Root of Joshua Tree, California: all other art is in the public domain.


Linda Root is a former supervising prosecuting attorney. In 2009 after reading Alison Weir's account of the murder of Lord Darnley, she began working on a 'murder book' aimed at presenting evidence of Marie Stuart's complicity in her second husband Darnley's murder. Instead she became fascinated by the life and times of the ill-fated Queen of Scots, and turned to writing historical fiction.  Her books in the Queen of Scots suite include The First Marie and the Queen of Scots; The Last Knight and the Queen of Scots; The Midwife's Secret-The Mystery of the Hidden Princess and The Other Daughter, Midwife's Secret II.  All are available at Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=The%20Queen%20of%20Scots%20Suite. She is currently putting the finishing touches on the fifth book, 1603: The Queen's Revenge, and beginning a sixth, this one The Reluctant Countess: The Bittersweet Life of Lady Jean Gordon. Root live in Yucca Valley, California, with husband Chris and two giant mixed malamutes Maxx and Maya.

Friday, July 12, 2013

The Other Cousins: Wild Frank and his cousin James of Scotland

by Linda Root


Stuart-Tudor  Family Tree{{PD-Art}}

Cousins:

When we think of famous and infamous cousins from the pages of history, few readers and writers of historical novels would overlook Elizabeth Tudor and Marie Stuart. The English queen and Marie Stuart’s father James V of Scotland were first cousins, making the famous queens first cousins once removed.

There was friction between them beginning with Elizabeth's coronation. Shortly thereafter Marie, who at the time was Dauphine of France as well as the anointed Queen of Scots, began quartering the arms of England on her standard and having her heralds announce her as queen of Ireland and England as well as Scotland and the Isles.

The adolescent Queen of Scots was probably not behind the controversial  move, which is usually attributed to her powerful uncles of the House of Guise and her father-in-law Henri II, King of France.  Nevertheless, she did nothing to prohibit it and Elizabeth never forgave her for it. In essence, she thought her claim was justified. Catholic Marie considered Protestant Elizabeth a bastard and thus barred from inheriting the Throne of Saint George. In her mind, England was hers by Divine Right.

 
The French king Henri II petitioned the Pope to excommunicate  Elizabeth, which would have absolved her subjects  from obedience, and that early in her reign, such a move might have altered history. However, the Pope was not ready to go quite that far. Nevertheless, at the time  Elizabeth was well aware of the tenuous nature of her hold on the English crown and appreciated the French claim as a realistic threat. Thus, from the time when Elizabeth was 25 and Marie was 16, the cousins had reason to be wary of one another.

The hostilities did not lessen with time and culminated when Marie was forty-four years old and had been Elizabeth's prisoner for almost two decades. A frustrated and ailing Queen of Scots was not as cautious as she should have been, and when she dropped her guard, Elizabeth’s henchmen were ready to strike her dead. Whether or not Elizabeth meant to sign the death warrant, she surely had endorsed her cousin’s death.  She merely had her own idea of how it should be orchestrated.

She wanted the queen's jailer to poison his charge, but he refused.  After the deed was done, the English queen gave her cousin a lavish funeral and had her interred at Peterborough Cathedral alongside Catherine of Aragon. Then she tried to recover a portion of the costs from Marie's son King James VI of Scotland.




But the queens were not the only royal cousins on Britannia who came close to resolving their religious differences and rivalry with bloodshed. James VI had a troublesome cousin of his own. However, while the ladies expressed their exasperation and sometime their affections in letters, the gents got up close and personal. Marie's son, James VI, was once accosted by his cousin Francis while seated on the royal privy hole, an invasion every bit as audacious as the acts of his notorious uncle James Hepburn when he kidnapped the Queen of Scots, carried her off to Dunbar and ravished her. If it happened as Melville reported it (and he was there) we would call it rape.

Most historical novelists and history buffs are well aware of the misdeeds of the 4th Earl of Bothwell, many of which had to do with his treatment of  the women in his life, but fewer are acquainted with the bizarre antics of his nephew, Francis Stewart, the 5th Earl, who was every bit as dangerous, and regarded by many as a witch and perhaps the personification of the Devil.

Who was Wild Frank Stewart?

The tensions between James and Francis began when they both were children. Frank’s father was the only child of Marie’s favorite brother, Lord John Stewart, Commendator of Coldingham, and his mother was the queen’s notorious third husband Bothwell’s flamboyant sister Jean Hepburn. Those familiar with the Queen of Scots may recall that not long after she returned to Scotland to assume personal rule of her kingdom, there was a scandal concerning the conduct of her brother John and her uncle Rene de Guise, Marquis of Elbeuf, who had allowed themselves to be drawn into a lurid caper instigated by James Hepburn, the 4th Earl of Bothwell,  famous for his womanizing and his audacity.

The episode involved the sexual assault of a girl named Alison Craik, a relative of Hepburn’s and the lady friend or mistress of  mad James Hamilton, 3rd. Earl of Arran, whom Hepburn made a sport of harassing. The incident took on a life of its own once the queen was involved, and when it was smoothed over public criticism settled on the queen.

She then placed her brother John on what teens today would call ‘restriction’ until his forthcoming wedding, and confined his step-cousin Rene de Guise to house arrest at Holyrood Palace.  The instigator was detained briefly and then sent to his castle to plan his sister's wedding.  Lord John’s bride was none other than Bothwell’s sister Jean, whose own reputation had been sullied in letters that British ambassador Tom Randolph sent home to Cecil and Elizabeth.

Like many of Randolph's reports, it was full of innuendo and scant on detail. Jean was also rumored to dabble in the occult. There were flaws in the characters of both Lord John Stewart and Bothwell’s sister Jean sufficient to give notice that offspring of the marriage might be hard to handle.

It is unfortunate that only one authentic portrait exists of the 4th earl--the wedding miniature that commemorates his marriage to the heiress Lady Jean Gordon--and none at all are found of the 5th.  Considering the vanity of both, one concludes that there was a dearth of portraitists in Scotland.

During this same period, no portraits were painted of the Queen of Scots, a fact that complicated the recent facial reconstruction currently on display in Edinburgh.  The most trustworthy likenesses of the queen were painted in France. The ones painted while she was a captive in England are suspiciously stylized and differ greatly from one another. During the forty-odd years of Sir Francis Stewart's life, not a single likeness appears, although there is one caricature that resembles Pre-Columbian art more than a 16th century portrait.

The Hepburn earls of Bothwell of the sixteenth century were of medium height, considerable intelligence, and capable of  displaying great charm. A survey of the biographies of Francis Stewart discloses little about his youth.  At some point he came under the guardianship of the Regent James Douglas, Earl of Morton. This may have been prompted by  reports of his mother and her friend Janet Beaton’s interest in the occult.  Jean was likewise prohibited from exerting influence over her nephew, William Hepburn, James Hepburn's son who was regarded as illegitimate under Scottish law.

Francis was given his uncle's forfeited title to the Bothwell earldom by his cousin James VI at Stirling in late November 1577 in the presence of his guardian Morton  four days before his marriage to Margaret Douglas, one of Morton's relatives and the daughter of the Earl of Angus.  She was the older of the two, and they were not permitted to cohabit, ostensibly because of Stewart's youth.  Morton had been deprived of a continental education and remedied it with his ward, who in spite of his marriage was shipped first to the Sorbonne and Rouen, and later, to Italy where he studied art in Florence.

He was summoned back to Scotland by the adolescent king in time to align himself with another cousin of the young James VI, Esme Stuart. Esme was a flamboyant French aristocrat who had been awarded the Lennox title after sharing a controversial intimate correspondence with the adolescent king that some say bordered on the erotic. His expatriate father, John Stuart, was a famous member of the French king's Garde Écossaise and the brother of the Scottish king’s paternal grandfather Matthew Stuart, Earl of Lennox, who was killed in a raid on Stirling by a band of Marians in 1572.

During the period from Esme’s arrival in Scotland in 1579 until he fell from grace when the Ruthven faction took the king captive and forced Esme’s ouster and exile, Esme Stuart and his cohort Captain James Stuart, who was named the Earl of Arran, ruled Scotland as a team. But in 1582, Esme and James turned their backs just long enough to let the Ruthven Earl of Gowrie and his Ruthven Raiders kidnap the king, providing the following explanation for their acts:

We have suffered now about the space of two years such false accusations, calumnies, oppressions and persecutions, by the means of the Duke of Lennox and him who is called the Earl of Arran, that the like of their insolencies and enormities were never heretofore born with in Scotland.

But in 1582, the Ruthven faction repeated the mistakes of Esme and Arran and permitted James Stuart (Arran) to exercise a degree of power in the government in hopes that he could rein in some of Ruthven’s dissenters. That strategy proved to be a huge mistake. Soon Arran was again in control and the Ruthvens were in England living off Elizabeth’s meager dole. By 1583, the 5th Earl of Bothwell was firmly in the Ruthven camp and out of favor with his cousin James. At some point Francis Stewart joined the exiles in England, but his itinerary was sufficiently flexible for him to sire eight children to Lady Margaret Douglas.

Things seesawed back and forth for Francis Stewart for the next years depending upon who was controlling the king, until 1585 when the faction opposing Arran returned again from English exile, but in a rare show of largesse on Elizabeth's part, this time they came with an army.

The Earl of Arran recognized the inevitable and retired with his head intact, and although the king was growing concerned with Cousin Frank’s wild ways, like his famous uncle, Francis managed to charm his way back into the royal favor. But that only lasted until the execution of the king’s mother Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots.

Francis Stewart adopts a Cause:


 After a brief bit of saber rattling, the king adopted a conciliatory stance concerning what Bothwell and his followers considered an outrage.  King James wanted an apology but Wild Frank Stewart wanted war.  When the court at Holyrood was told to don mourning attire in honor of the woman referred to as "The King's Mother", Bothwell came to court in full armor, and told the king to his face that his ameliorating attitude ought to get him hanged. If James VI had been anything like his great grand-uncle Henry VIII,  Cousin Francis would not have lived to repeat such insolence.

Francis Stewart's defiance was consistent with his heritage. His grandfather the 3rd Earl of Bothwell, Patrick Hepburn,had remained loyal to Marie Stuart's mother, Marie of Guise, from the time she first arrived in Scotland to the period when she was regent for her daughter who was living in France. Later Frank's uncle James Hepburn, the notorious 4th  Earl of Bothwell, stood among Marie of Guise’s champions when she was warring with the Lords of the Congregation. That loyalty transferred to the Queen of Scots when she assumed personal rule of Scotland.  James Hepburn may not have been faithful to his wives and lovers but he was faithful to his queen.

Likewise, his nephew Francis was outraged that there was such a weak response to Marie Stuart's execution. He tried to raise a military force of his own when the king refused to do so, but his efforts failed.  Like his uncle before him, he had the power and charisma needed to muster a band of Border Reivers, but he lacked the wherewithal to raise an army. There was little left for him to do but lay low. King James shared his mother’s tendency to forgive the transgressions of errant relatives, and on July 8, 1587, Lord Francis Stewart was sworn as a full member of the Privy Council, and King James assumed that Cousin Frank would behave himself. James should have known better.

The Audacity of the 5th Earl of Bothwell: 

The man dubbed 'Wild Frank Stewart' was not of a complacent nature. There were brawls and duels here and there, and a growing interest in the Black Arts, probably inspired and tutored by his mother Jean. And thus it is in the role of a witch and as the devil’s disciple that Francis Stewart leaves a historical record approaching that of his famous uncle. Whether the next acts resulted from Bothwell's instability or a belief that he was next in line to the throne should James die childless, he focused his energies on thwarting the king's marriage to Princess Anna of Denmark. The following is an excerpt from my novel, The Other Daughter:

Francis Stewart had been attracted to the occult since he was wee. Ever since his father died in the year of Frank’s birth, his mother was free to pursue the style of life that pleased her, not her stiff-lipped sister in law the Queen of Scots.

Like other famous Scottish aristocrats such as Margaret Flemyng, Countess of Atholl, Jean Hepburn’s interest in Dyanism was casual. While other highborn Scottish women amused themselves with needlepoint or gardening, Jean and her friends enjoyed dabbling in the dark arts.  She and her friend Janet Beaton had never taken witchcraft all that seriously. They could hardly be regarded as a coven like the witches of Blair Atholl. But when Frank was growing up, he often spied on his mother and her friends when they dressed themselves from head to toe in red or black, depending on the occasion, and performed strange rites in candlelight in the basement of the Castle.  He also noticed that the women in the villages near Haddington crossed the street when they saw his mother coming and it was not scorn that sent them scurrying.  It was fear.

Jean Hepburn was among those who profited from her brother’s fall.  Her nephew William Hepburn, her brother’s only child, inherited their mother Agnes’s personal property, but not the estates at Morham and Caithness or his father’s title. The latter passed to Frank.  But Jean’s rebellious nature upset the regent, and to protect the heir to the Bothwell title from her negative influence, Morton had himself appointed Frank’s guardian. Next he bestowed on his ward the one thing that had eluded him –a European education.
 
After two years at the Sorbonne, Frank had grown tired of its academic regimen and followed a crowd of liberated young aristocrats to Italy, where learning was less rigid and more romantic. In Florence he acquired the same reverence for black magic that had captured the imagination of its most illustrious expatriate, the Florentine shopkeeper’s daughter Caterina Maria Romola di Lorenzo de’ Medici, who added pentagrams to the interior at Chenonceau when she repossessed it from her dead husband’s mistress. It was in Italy that Francis saw how astute power mongers could manipulate the masses with incantations and other forms of hocus-pocus.  While the king sought to secure the future of his dynasty by actually marrying a princess and producing heirs, Bothwell took advantage of the king’s preoccupation by retiring to Morham to hone his skills as a practitioner of the Black Arts.
 
While in Italy he had witnessed a powerful witch costume himself as a demon by wearing a goat skin hardened by a resin brought from the orient by the Portuguese, a substance produced by an insect called a lac bug. By the time the king had settled his fancies on the Danish princess Anna, Bothwell had worked with a woman named Barbara Napier in fashioning a shellacked goats head mask complete with horns, and garments constructed of sewn-together hides.  Speaking through a tube set inside the mask he could alter his voice so that he could have fooled the Devil Himself...

Later in the novel, Sir James Melville of Hallhil relates the events that occurred on Halloween  in a kirk yard in North Berwick to the Devil's campaign against the King of Scots and the Danish marriage:
North Berwick kirkyard {{PD-Art  1923}}


...When Queen Anna departed for Scotland to meet her bridegroom, a string of unusually early storms of unprecedented ferocity  battered the Danish fleet and sent the royal bride and her party to port in Oslo to await calmer seas. A single Scottish frigate sailed across the sea to Leith to inform James that his bride would not be coming until spring. While the exact reason why the king decided to go fetch her was unknown even to James, on the 22nd day of October, the king and Thirlestane embarked  for Norway to rescue his bride from the captivity imposed by the angry seas. It was a rash act and entirely out of character for the King of Scots. Because of the obvious threat to the dynasty, those of the council who were not already in Denmark or Norway waiting for the winter storms to pass either blamed the king’s decision on the legendary Stuart impetuousness that had plagued his mother, or took the more common tack and blamed it all on Thirlestane who was anxious to demonstrate his new warmth concerning the Danish marriage.  However, the superstitious Danes preferred to place the blamed on witches.

As evidence to support his proposition, King Christian cited the fact that the Scottish ship had made it across the North Sea to Leith in three days, when the Danes had been unsuccessful in nearly three months of efforts. Obviously the devil’s minions had been involved. The fact that the Scots had better sailors and hired better Flemish shipbuilders had nothing to do with it.  Melville jested that the Danes no doubt had the better witches.

 At first the allegations of witchcraft that consumed the Danes was given little credibility by James VI who had finally arrived in Oslo. Then news arrived from Scotland concerning a meeting of the covens on All Hallows Even. Apparently the efforts of the Scottish covens had been as ineffectual as its Danish counterparts, but had been every bit as enthusiastic when it came to targeting the Scottish king. According to the tale that reached James and his new brother in-law Christian IV, the Devil had made a personal appearance in the old kirkyard at North Berwick and identified King James as his ‘most bitter enemy’. James was rather proud of that part of the Devil’s discourse, but when he learned that the chief of all demons had appeared in person and called for his demise, he began to take the matter seriously.  James preferred his demons to be more ethereal.

and the novel continues....

Daisy recalled the animation on Uncle Melville’s face when he reached the part of the story when at the Devil’s bidding, the witches dug up the bones in the grave yard and mashed them into a bloody potion that they smeared on the coats of half strangled cats before flinging them into the sea.  The intent was to conjure up some storms while chanting a curse directed at seaborne James. The cats were not cooperative and swam to shore. In the second attempt they made certain the cats were dead.

According to Melville’s informants, the spectacle at the old kirk was presided over by the Devil himself, who was described as being huge and horned and entirely black.  Some of the women who were later tortured described him as wearing  a mask that was beaked and horrible to behold.  Conveniently, the Devil spoke lowland Scots with a slight hint of the Border vernacular, but his voice was low-pitched and inhuman. Some of the witnesses claimed to have touched him and found the flesh on his clawed hand to be hard and unyielding.  Most in attendance reported that the Devil arrived and subsequently disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke that smelled of sulfur.

To the enlightened  narrator Sir James Melville, it was obviously a staged event in which the principal was not an apparition but a talented performer  wearing a well-crafted costume.  The orchestration of the performance was superb. Not all of the attendees were in on the secret, and a few well placed recruits stirred the emotions of their companions to a frenzied mass that was susceptible to suggestion.  A good supply of fortified mead helped.  By the time the Devil emerged, his audience was already hovering on the brink. According to Melville’s investigation, the identity of the actor was unknown and even under the most gruesome tortures had not been disclosed. Most of those who had been present confessed their own participation once the spiked device that pierced cheeks, tongue and the roof of the mouth was forced between what was left of their teeth, but they genuinely believed the devil made them do it, and had actually been present to assert his will.  Those who knew better endured the torture without implicating others.  While some in the group of suspects mentioned Francis Stewart, the Earl of Bothwell as the champion of the Devil’s cause, no one placed him at the meeting.
  
....  After James returned to Scotland with his queen, he took an obsessive interest in the event at North Berwick, an attitude that was promoted by the Danes in the queen’s household. James personally led the investigations and within a month was convinced that Francis Stewart was a minion of the devil -- Satan’s nominee to assume the throne of Scotland as soon as James had been eliminated. Thirlestane was equally convinced that Stewart was only absent from the crowd that knelt before the Devil’s cloven feet because he was inside of the costume manipulating the devil’s extremities with the aid of pulleys and ropes.

 Melville concluded his story with an account that brought Daisy and the others in the Cockie House up to date on the Earl of Bothwell’s latest antics.

 Then, shortly after the queen’s coronation, Bothwell and a group of his retainers burst into the royal bedchamber late at night, just to show how easily it could be done.  He assured the king that it was not a threat, but merely a demonstration of the king’s vulnerability. The king acknowledged the distinction, but the queen did not. A threat delivered with a smile and a clever explanation apparently does not fool a Dane.

Later  in the novel, Frances makes one of his first assaults upon Holyrood Palace in his attempts to terrorize the king into seeing things his way:

So far the assault on Holyrood had exceeded Bothwell’s wildest expectations. He and his henchman John Colville had marched into the king’s apartment and caught James as he was rising from the privy hole. A sovereign naked below the waist is highly vulnerable.

“Nice to see you looking well, Cousin,” Bothwell quipped while the king made an obvious release of air from one orifice or another. The privy was foul enough on its own without anyone struggling to determine the odor’s origin. Colville was embarrassed to hand the king his dressing gown and the king was sufficiently humbled to accept it with thanks. It was all so gentile and courtly that Bothwell nearly gagged. The trespassers helped James dress and assume the Chair of State before they knelt before him. It was a nice preamble to the long list of demands they required in order to let him continue to sit on it. James initially responded with a hearty nay-say, but as the morning worn on, his denials of their demands became less emphatic.

Shortly after noon the king and queen appeared on the same balcony where the wayward husband of the Queen of Scots King Henri Stuart had placated the mob of his wife’s would-be rescuers on the night of David Rizzio’s murder.  After King James delivered a pretty speech that Bothwell had drafted and Anna smiled and waved, the crowd disbursed just as it had in 1566.
  
True, this is all fiction, but to call them mere figments of an author's imagination is inaccurate. The accounts are is based on credible reports of Bothwell's raids on Holyrood.  He had also planned one at Stirling that did not materialize. When the king went on the offensive, he almost caught his culprit cousin, but his horse lost its footing and sent the king coruscating into the mud.  For the remainder of Frank's life he was obsessed with capturing the king and either bending him to his will or killing him. After the prince was born, he included capturing the heir apparent in the game plan.

According to some accounts of the raids on Holyrood, the target had been the Chancellor and not Bothwell’s royal cousin. But the raids continued long after Chancellor Thirlestane fell from grace. While there were but two penetrations of the king’s chambers at Holyrood, there were many other incidents, and the king was becoming less eager to forgive him. Even the earl’s wife was becoming weary of his antics and was imploring him to make peace with his cousin King James.

Francis Stewart's Conversion:

But Francis, who had grown into his given moniker “Wild Frank”, was not finished yet. When his fellow ardent protestants among the peers began distancing themselves from Bothwell, he merely changed allegiances and became a Catholic. After all, Henri IV of France had traded Paris for a Mass--why should he not trade Scotland for a similar conversion designed to capture Catholic support? And he did not stop at the altar. He sold his services to the King of Spain.

Up until that abrupt change, many Scots believed that Frank was motivated not by blind ambition but by his Protestant zeal.  His espousal of the Spanish cause changed all that. As his support group dwindled to the few ardent Catholic lairds in the north, Stewart was not dissuaded. He found sanctuary in England until Elizabeth saw the degree to which his politics and religion had shifted, and then she cut him off. He fled to the Spanish Netherlands where he brokered an invasion to Philip II, an attack which he planned in conjunction with Philip's generals in the Netherlands and which was dependent upon a Catholic uprising in Scotland that did not play out. He next became a pensioner of the King of Spain and moved to Madrid.

Finally Philip, who was dying, grew tired of having Stewart on the dole while all he did was laze about the Spanish court. He increased his new minion's stipend and sent him to Flanders to plan an invasion that never happened. Philip had the will but he did not have the money.

Changes:
The Archduke and the Infanta {{PD-Art}}

When Philip II died, he left Spain fiscally depressed and facing bankruptcy for the fourth time during his reign.  Upon his death, the Hapsburg empire underwent alterations, with Philip III retaining sovereignty over Spain and Portugal and Spain's overseas possessions, while his sister the Infanta and her husband the Archduke Albert of Austria ruled the Spanish Netherlands as an independent state.  That made a coordinated invasion of the island kingdoms of ancient Britannia by means of a landing in either Scotland or England less likely.

Stewart hatched invasion plan after invasion plan, some of which were seriously considered by Philip III, but the great Spanish maritime power had become over-extended from dealing not just with the marauding English, but with the new European menace to Spanish interests presented by the Dutch Republic and its formidable fleet.

By the late 1590’s Elizabeth had her own problematic hot-head to subdue in the Earl of Essex. Chancellor Robert Cecil was as canny as his famous father Burghley had been and had no desire to antagonize the Scots by providing an alternative haven for the Earl of Bothwell, what with Elizabeth’s health declining and the queen reluctant to stare death in the face by naming an heir.  It was as if the re-forming political climate of Europe had left Francis Stewart behind. In spite of his wife’s pleas that he come back to Scotland and make peace with his cousin, Francis Stewart lived his remaining days in Italy where he was said to dabble in the occult.

Conclusion:

John De Critz , {{PD-Art}}


When James ascended the English throne in 1603, there were no more madcap schemes coming from Wild Frank. It was too late for military intervention, and Bothwell had run out of charm. He died in Naples in November of 1612, some say of grief over the death of his young kinsman Henry, Prince of Wales, who had died earlier that month.  Bothwell had expected the boy to intercede with his father the king on his behalf when he petitioned for reinstatement of his property and titles. 

But it was far too late for that. The new English King James I had left Scotland behind and Bothwell with it.

It was reported that Frances Stewart  supplemented what stipend he was able to eke out of the Hapsburgs by telling fortunes other than his own. Yet, no matter how bizarre his antics, he came incredibly close to putting an end to the Stuart dynasty.



Note:  All  art depicted is in the public domain.
For additional information on the topic, the author recommends Bothwell and the Witches by Geoffrey Watson (1975). For an excellent blog that focuses on Francis Stewart and the occult, see Francis Stewart, Fifth Earl of Bothwell: A Devil in Disguise? at blog site Strange Company - a walk on the weird side of history, strangeco.blogspot.com.
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Thursday, May 2, 2013

Damned if he did, damned if he didn't

by Anna Belfrage

Previously this week, author Barbara Kyle wrote an excellent post on this blog about Mary Queen of Scots and her first “trial” on English soil. This post was already well in the making by then and deals with the other suspect in the alleged murder of Mary’s second husband, namely her third husband, the Earl of Bothwell.

Malmöhus Castle. The Renaissance palace in the centre
In Malmö we have a castle – not in any way a glamorous building, even if the renaissance rooms have a certain flair. For most of its existence, the castle has been a prison and its most (in)famous prisoner was James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell. So how did this flower of Scottish nobility end up kicking his heels in a small, uncomfortable room in Malmö Castle? Well, it all began, as most things do, several years before.

James Hepburn was born in 1534 to Patrick Hepburn and Agnes Sinclair. James’ father deserves a post all of his own what with his exciting life, including such ingredients as switching allegiances between England and Scotland (several times) and aspirations to marry into the royalty. It is difficult to gauge how his father’s behaviour affected little James – except in one matter, namely that of his parents’ divorce. The divorce was a consequence of Patrick’s hopes to marry well above his own position, which came to nothing. All in all, one can but conclude that Patrick Hepburn, for all that he was known as the “Fair Earl” was not much of a role model.

Early on, James displayed an adventurous streak, something that came in handy when he inherited not only his father’s titles and lands but also his office as Lord High Admiral of Scotland in 1556. James took to the seas, travelling across Europe in this capacity, and in 1559 he arrived in Copenhagen, where he met Anna Tronds, a Norwegian noblewoman. Not that he knew it at the time, but the events that followed would ultimately lead to the horrors of his last years.

James Hepburn in his prime. He was said to be tall and well made. 
James handfasted with Anna – a ceremony that carried as much weight as a regular marriage in Denmark, evidenced by the fact that Anna’s family had no objection. But the initial infatuation quickly wore off – at least for James – and poor Anna would return to her family some years later, humiliated by how James had treated her.

James, however, had other things on his mind, first and foremost how to navigate the turbulent political waters of Scotland, with the regent Marie de Guise on one side and the Protestant Lords –and the formidable John Knox – on the other. It is interesting to note that James remained loyal to the regent until she was deposed by the Scottish nobility, despite the substantial private loss this caused him.

By now, James had met Mary, Queen of France and Scotland, on a couple of occasions. Upon Mary’s royal French husband’s death, she returned to Scotland, there to become reigning Queen. And in his role as High Admiral, James had a hand in the travelling arrangements.

Whether it was love at first sight between those two is difficult to judge. Was it love at all? Some say no, insisting that the Earl did in fact force the Queen into their future marriage. I am prone to believe there was affection and love - maybe even passion; Mary seems to have liked and trusted James from the start, and she was, by all accounts, quite the femme fatale when she wanted to be.

Mary Queen of Scots
There followed a number of tempestuous years. The young Queen had problems ruling this country of hers, a country of which she knew little having spent most of her life in France. While the Queen remained Catholic, her country did not, and in Scotland the reformation was in full bloom, with John Knox as its foremost – and vociferous – representative. Mary was also busy negotiating a new marriage, and while the list of potential bridegrooms varied, it does not seem to have included James.

Instead, James married Lady Jean Gordon (whom he would divorce a year later on account of his adultery) and Mary married Lord Darnley. Suffice it to say that what began auspiciously quickly turned into a marital battlefield with Darnley wanting more, more, more and Mary saying no, no, no.

In the summer of 1566, James was seriously wounded during an altercation with a John Elliot. It is said that upon hearing this the queen galloped madly across the country to be at James’ side.

This, however, is not correct. The Queen did not visit James until almost a week after his injuries, and Antonia Fraser points out that the Queen was anyway already on her way to meet with James to discuss matters of state. Therefore, in the absence of a mad ride to be at her man’s side, there is no conclusive proof Mary and James were lovers at the time. (I would argue that even a hell for leather ride cannot be construed as proof of an amorous relationship anyway.)

Being an incorrigible romantic, I hope Mary and James were having an affair already in 1566 – if nothing else because their time together would be so short, and the aftermath so very long and trying. But we will never know, will we?

Kirk o' Field after the explosion. Note Darnley and his servant lying in the orchard. Sketch comissioned by William Cecil.
In 1567 Lord Darnley was murdered. Someone had placed kegs of gunpowder under his room and blown Darnley sky-high, but this does not seem to have been the cause of death – rather it was said he’d been strangled. Whatever the case, he was dead and three months later, in May of 1567, the Queen married James Hepburn, this after an alleged abduction and rape. (Seeing as Mary miscarried twins in July, it’s a safe bet to assume she was already pregnant when this little episode played out.)

It was a very brief marriage. The queen’s marriage to one of the suspects in her husband’s death tore the kingdom asunder, and after a month of marital bliss (well, assuming there is some bliss to be found when the country takes up arms against you) the loving couple separated on the battlefield. One last embrace, one long lingering kiss and James Hepburn took off, promising his wife and queen that he’d be back soon – with reinforcements.

He never came back. James was, one could say, detained. An alternative description would be to say his history caught up with him. It began with a storm that blew his ships off course.

James’ intended destination was Denmark, but instead he ended up in Bergen, and who might be sitting in Bergen, still nursing a broken heart? Anna Tronds, of course, and in Bergen she had the upper hand, being related to the powers that were. No wrath like a woman scorned, one might say… James was thrown in prison while Anna’s case was heard, but after some wheeling and dealing he got himself out of that mess.

The Rosencrantz Tower in Bergen, first of Bothwell's three Scandinavian prisons
Just as he was about to be released from the Rosencrantz tower in Bergen, the Danish king, Fredrik II ordered him to be taken prisoner – again. James must have protested, he must have yelled and demanded his rights, but to no avail. Fredrik wanted to make an impression on Elizabeth of England, and what better gift could he offer than the potential murderer of Elizabeth’s cousin, Lord Darnley?

In the event, Elizabeth cannot have shown much interest. But Fredrik held out hope – or maybe he took a dislike to his prisoner. James Hepburn spent five long years in confinement in Malmö, years spent trying to get someone to take an interest in his plight and help him regain his freedom. His wife was not in a position to aid him – she was imprisoned in England.

The last five years of his life, James Hepburn spent in horrible conditions in Dragsholms Castle in Denmark. In comparison, the years in Malmö were as mild as a summer breeze. It is said James lost his mind in there, shackled like an animal in a minuscule cell. It is also said his soul prowls the castle to this day, as restless in death as he seems to have been in life.His mummified remains were on show at a nearby church for centuries. As can be seen below, even in death he retained a certain (if macabre) handsomeness.
Bothwell, study of his mummified head by O Bache 1861

James Hepburn was 44 when he died. The last ten years he had spent as a prisoner in Denmark, not due to any criminal acts committed there but because a Danish king wanted to make an impression on the English Queen. It seems to me he paid a very high price for what little joy he found in his life.

Was he a self-seeking cad who left jilted women along the way while he set off in pursuit of the next? Maybe. But he was also a loyal subject to the regent and his queen – it is said that Elizabeth feared him because he was the only Scottish noble she couldn’t buy – he was brave and determined and seems to have cared deeply for his royal wife.

Mary Stuart was also 44 when she died, executed for her purported participation in the Babington plot. By then, she had spent almost half her life as Elizabeth’s prisoner, the last nine of them as a widow who would weep upon hearing her husband’s name.

Two larger than life personalities, two tragic ends. Did James, in a rare moment of lucidity, cry out for her as he died? Did she think of him as she placed her head on the block? We don’t know. We never will.

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Anna Belfrage is the author of two published books, A Rip in the Veil and Like Chaff in the Wind, both of which are set in the seventeenth century. The third book in The Graham Saga, The Prodigal Son, will be published in the summer of 2013.