Whilst the heads of the Protestant party were corresponding with England, the Queen-Regent, on her side, had also been preparing for the struggle which she was now determined to force on, though in order to gain time, she had not discouraged the negotiations entered upon with a view to a peaceable settlement. In answer to her appeals for assistance, the French Court sent her a body of troops, to oppose the forces which the Lords of the Congregation were raising. About the middle of August 1559, a thousand men, under the command of an officer named Octavian, landed at Leith, which they at once began to fortify. Protests and proclamations on the part of the Lords having failed to prevent the operations of the French from being actively carried on, under the eyes of the Regent herself, Leith was invested by the forces of the Congregation.
Sir William Kirkcaldy was one of the military leaders on whose skill and experience the party mainly relied. It is scarcely possible to determine with what official rank he was invested; but there is not wanting evidence to show that, whether by actual appointment, or by virtue of his zeal and of his valour, he stood in a position of considerable importance. When Maitland of Lethington, Secretary to the Queen-Regent, ‘perceiving himself to be suspected as one that favoured the Congregation, and to stand in danger of his life if he should remain at Leith, because he spared not to utter his mind in controversies of religion,’ determined to join the Protestant party, it was to Sir William Kirkcaldy that he surrendered. Such indeed, was his recognised influence with his associates, that, as Throckmorton informed Cecil, the Regent ‘weighed him more than a great many of the rest,’ and made strenuous, but vain efforts to gain him over to her side.
Of Sir William’s personal exploits, the records are only casual and incidental; but they invariably bear testimony to the dashing courage which had won distinction for him in foreign wars. It was conspicuously displayed in one of the most important engagements between the opposing forces. On the 5th of November, a body of French troops was sent from Leith to intercept a convoy of provisions intended for Edinburgh. Arran and Lord James, being ‘more forward than circumspect’ in their attempt to drive them back, allowed themselves to be hemmed in, and forced into a ‘very narrow corner,’ between the low-lying swamp near Restalrig, and the wall that enclosed the park of Holyrood. But for the Laird of Grange and Alexander Whitelaw, who rode up at the head of a few horsemen, and who succeeded in keeping the enemy in check for a time, the whole escort would have been surrounded, and either killed or taken. Even as it was, the loss was serious; and, together with the capture of the expected provisions, led to the abandonment of Edinburgh, which was at once occupied by the French. Kirkcaldy, who had been in the front of the fight, was in the rear of the retreat; and, according to Killegrew’s report of the event to Queen Elizabeth, he only ‘very narrowly escaped over the walls.’
Another of Kirkcaldy’s sallies from the camp before Leith is narrated in a dispatch to Cecil by Sir Henry Percy, who also took part in it—for this was in April 1560; and by that time Elizabeth had at length sent a small contingent of troops to reinforce the army of the Congregation. Dunbar being but a short distance from Leith, and on the highroad to Berwick, it frequently happened that messengers and straggling parties, on their way from the camp to the English Border, were intercepted by pickets from the garrison. To check this, and to teach the French caution, Lord Grey and Sir William devised a stratagem. The latter, with Sir Henry Percy and three hundred troopers, left the camp at dead of night and took up a carefully chosen position, about half a mile from Dunbar. Next morning, at nine o’clock, when there was every probability of detection, a detachment of a dozen men was sent forward as though for the purpose of riding to Berwick. As soon as they were perceived, Captain Hayes, with an equal number of cavalry, started in pursuit, whilst Captain Perrot, at the head of fifty footmen, also marched out so as to be at hand to reinforce him, if necessary. Feigning to be taken at unawares, the decoys turned and made for the camp, managing their flight in such a manner as to lead the pursuers into the ambush. Grange made no attempt to meet the enemy; but as soon as they had all passed by, he rode out with his three hundred men, and cut off their retreat. Charging the French before they had time fully to realise their position, he overwhelmed them and took most of the footmen prisoners. The cavalry were able to take refuge in the neighbouring mansion of Innerwick, but a very brief siege obliged them to surrender also; and Kirkcaldy returned to the camp after having killed thirteen of the enemy and captured forty-five, including the two leaders, Hayes and Perrot, and without having suffered any loss himself.
On the eve of the last but still unsuccessful assault made against Leith, on the 7th of May 1560, by the combined forces of the Congregation and of England, it was Sir William Kirkcaldy who, with Sir Ralph Sadler and Crofts, went forward to examine the breach which the besieging artillery had made in the works. Had his advice been followed, the next day’s failure would have been avoided, for he reported that the attack ought not yet to be made. But, either owing to a misunderstanding or, as was commonly reported subsequently, to treason on the part of Crofts, who was instructed to communicate Kirkcaldy’s opinion to Grey, the assault took place, and was repulsed with heavy loss to the besiegers.
Whilst the siege of Leith was going on, the skirmishing was not confined to the southern side of the Forth. Crossing to the other shore, the French established themselves at Kinghorn and, sallying forth, laid waste all the adjoining country, sparing neither Papist nor Protestant, and even pillaging the estates of their own confederates. Amongst the chief sufferers from their depredations and wanton destruction of property, was Sir William Kirkcaldy, whose house was deliberately blown up. Next day he sent a characteristic message to the French leader, d’Oysel. He told him that, up to that hour, he had acted considerately towards the French, and saved their lives when he might have allowed their throats to be cut. But he warned him not to expect such treatment for the future. ‘As for Monsieur d’Oysel,’ reports the chronicler, ‘he bade say to him, he knew he would not get him to skirmish with, because he knew he was but a coward. But it might be he should requite him in full, either in Scotland or in France.’
The French soon learnt to their cost that Kirkcaldy had not been indulging in mere braggart threats. At the head of a thousand horse, and accompanied by the Master of Sinclair, he lay in wait for them day and night, and made it unsafe for them to venture out of Kinghorn except in large bodies. One of his exploits was the capture of three ships, laden with victuals, and the slaughter of some sixty Frenchmen that were on board. Another, of which the details have been recorded, resulted in the death of the French Captain, L’Abast, and of forty or fifty of his men. L’Abast having sallied out from Kinghorn, was plundering as usual, sparing ‘neither sheep, oxen, kye, nor horse.’ When he and his men got sufficiently far inland to make it impossible for reinforcements to come to them from the main body, Grange, who had been following their movements, charged down upon them with a company of his horsemen. The French beat a hasty retreat as far as Glennis House, into which they threw themselves. Whilst some occupied the mansion, others took up their position within the courtyard. The assailants were at considerable disadvantage, for they were armed with spears only; and their horses were useless to them in an attack against men posted behind stone walls. The French, on the contrary, all had arquebuses. Undeterred by the odds against him, Kirkcaldy ordered his men to dismount, and led them to the assault. As they advanced, they were met with a sharp fire that injured several of them, amongst others, Sir William’s brother, David. There was one critical moment of hesitation, which would probably have been followed by a disordered and disastrous retreat but for the courage of the Scottish leader. ‘Fie!’ he cried to his men, ‘Let us never live after this day, if it is to be said we recoiled before French skybalds!’ Then, rushing forward with the Master of Sinclair, and followed by others whom his words had roused, he succeeded in forcing his way into the courtyard. The death of L’Abast, who, though borne down by the impetuous inrush, refused to ask for quarter, threw the French into confusion. Few of those outside the house escaped the fierce slaughter that followed; whilst those within it were glad to surrender at discretion. From that day, as the chronicler drily remarks, ‘the French were more circumspect in straying abroad.’
At Tullybodie, too, there was some sharp fighting for the possession of the bridge. But, though Kirkcaldy succeeded in cutting it down, the check to the advance of the French was only temporary. They retired to Doune, where they crossed the river by means of a bridge, which they built of timber torn from the roof of the parish church.
Kirkcaldy and Sinclair did not carry on this harassing mode of warfare without considerable danger to themselves. On one occasion the Master had his horse slain under him, and barely got off with his life. On another, Grange was nearly captured in his own house at Halyards. Referring to these narrow escapes, Maitland of Lethington bears testimony to the estimation in which the two dashing leaders were held, and to the value set on their services by the Lords of the Congregation. ‘If at this time they should have lost the said two men,’ he wrote, ‘it would have been to them more hurt than to the Frenchmen to have lost a thousand soldiers; it would have been more skaith than to have had all the Frenchmen in Scotland slain.’ John Knox, in a letter to Mrs Anna Locke, also makes admiring and grateful mention of Kirkcaldy’s achievements. ‘God will recompense him I doubt not,’ he says; ‘for in this cause and since the beginning of this last trouble specially, he hath behaved himself so boldly, as never man of our nation hath deserved more praise. He hath been in many dangers, and yet God hath delivered him above man’s expectation. He was shot at Lundie, right under the left pap, through the jack, doublet, and sark, and the bullet did sticke in one of his ribs. Mr Whitelaw hath gotten a fall, by the which he is unable to bear armour. But, God be praised, both their lives be saved.’
Whether Kirkcaldy was actually wounded, however, seems rather doubtful. That, if he was, his hurt cannot have been serious, may be gathered, not only from the fact that no interruption of his activity at this time is recorded, but also from the following passage, which occurs in one of Sadler’s letters to Crofts: ‘Kirkcaldy hath no such hurt as we wrote of, which arose of another Scottishman that was indeed hurt in the same sort as we did write; and before that Kirkcaldy slew a Frenchman, whereby the Protestants had the first blood, which they do take for good luck.’
By the beginning of 1560, both contending parties had grown tired of the desultory, and practically useless fighting which had now been going on for months. Negotiations had again been entered upon with a view to the cessation of hostilities, when, on the 10th of June, the death of the Queen-Regent took place. Although there is reason to believe that this time she was really sincere in her wish for peace, it is probable that her demise accelerated rather than retarded the conclusion of the treaty. That it secured for the Protestant party more favourable terms than she herself would readily have granted, scarcely admits of a doubt.
The cessation of hostilities, and the departure from Scotland of the French and English contingents which had helped to carry on the war, inaugurated a period of comparative rest and tranquillity in Sir William’s adventurous life. During the next four years there is but rare and incidental reference to him in the correspondence of the time. A letter from Randolph to Maitland states that Grange was one of the leaders of a small force sent into Renfrewshire for the purpose of reducing the rebellious Master of Semple to subjection. The only notable feature of this very unimportant expedition was the difficulty experienced in bringing the artillery to bear on Castle Semple, which was situated in a small lake. It took seven days to get the guns into position. Twenty-four hours later Semple capitulated.
Another letter from the same source shows that Kirkcaldy’s friendly relations with the English Court were still maintained. It informs Cecil that when the agent wished to take special means for the safe delivery of his dispatches to the Government, he availed himself of the services of the Laird’s retainers. The young Queen of Scots, on the other hand, in spite of her dying mother’s injunctions to secure the good-will of ‘Kirkcaldy of Grange, whom the Constable de Montmorency had named the first soldier in Europe,’ still looked with suspicion on the man who had so largely contributed to the success of the Reformers. Indeed, her objection to him was expressed with sufficient plainness to attract the attention of Throckmorton, who was ‘nothing sorry’ for it, and who did not think the circumstance too insignificant to be communicated to Elizabeth.
Closer acquaintance with the gallant soldier, however, appears to have altered Mary Stuart’s opinion of him after her return to Scotland. In 1562, when she undertook an expedition to the North, against the Earl of Huntly, he was one of the leaders whom she appointed to serve under Lord James, the commander of her forces. A few days later, he was at Strathbogie, at the head of a body of horsemen sent to apprehend the Earl. His progress had been so rapid, that Huntly was taken by surprise, and only narrowly avoided capture. ‘Without boot or sword he conveyed himself out at a back gate, over a low wall, where he took his horse.’ Being better acquainted with the country, and better mounted than his pursuers, who had already ridden twenty-four miles that morning, he succeeded in making good his escape, but only to fall at the battle of Corrichie. It was, doubtless, as a reward for Kirkcaldy’s services during this expedition that the act of attainder passed against him and his family, for the murder of Cardinal Beaton, was reversed by Parliament in the following year. His lands were also restored to him a few months later.
In the year 1564, the project of a marriage between Mary Stuart and Darnley again roused dissatisfaction amongst the Protestant leaders. The matter was one with regard to which Kirkcaldy was not likely to remain indifferent; and a letter written to Randolph, on the nineteenth of September, shows that he had already entered into negotiations with the English Court, for the purpose of offering the support and co-operation of his party to Elizabeth, who was known to look upon the intended marriage with great disfavour. As might have been expected from this preliminary and early step, the Laird of Grange was amongst those who, with Lord James at their head, openly expressed their disapproval of Darnley, as one more than suspected of being ready to adopt and forward Mary’s views in favour of the Catholic religion, and who consequently disobeyed the Queen’s commands to come to Edinburgh, ‘Weill bodin in feir of weir, furneist to remaine the space of fifteen dayis efter thair cuming, for attending and awayting upon her Hienes.’ Although no record exists of his individual action, testimony is borne to the importance which Mary and her Council attached to it, by a proclamation issued on the 2nd of August 1565, only four days after the celebration of the obnoxious marriage. It commanded Andrew, Earl of Rothes, and William Kirkcaldy of Grange to enter themselves prisoners within the Castle of Dumbarton. On the 14th of the same month, Kirkcaldy was denounced as a rebel, and charged, under pains of treason, to deliver up the fortalice of Halyards. Next day a proclamation, setting forth that the Earls of Murray and Rothes, Grange, and Provost Haliburton, were riding and going about the Realm where they pleased, and were being entertained as if they were good and true subjects, forbade the lieges to supply those rebels with meat, drink, munition, or armour. Another of the numerous proclamations issued at this time—its exact date is the 24th of August—gave commission to the Earl of Athole to pursue them with fire and sword. This was on the eve of the Queen’s departure from Edinburgh, at the head of five thousand men, to take part in what is known as the Round About Raid.
The ill-advised and ill-managed rising afforded Grange no opportunity of distinguishing himself or even of doing justice to the reputation which he had already acquired. He hurried with the rest of his party from Paisley to Hamilton, from Hamilton to Edinburgh, then back again, through Lanark to Hamilton and thence to Dumfries. There the insignificant force of some thirteen hundred horsemen was disbanded; and Kirkcaldy, with a number of the leaders, sought safety across the Border.
From letters written by Bedford immediately after these events, it seems justifiable to conclude that he, at least, attributed the failure of the Protestant rising to neglect of the advice given by Kirkcaldy. Not only does he speak of him in special terms of praise, which would have been quite out of place if he had done no more than flee before the Queen, and style him ‘as able a man in war or peace as any in Scotland or France;’ but he also particularly ‘bemoans’ his fate and significantly adds that he will not speak of ‘what services Grange might have done.’
As early as the beginning of January 1566, steps were being taken to procure an amnesty in favour of Sir William Kirkcaldy, and to enable him to return to Scotland. They were not successful, however, and two months later he was still in England, and according to a communication made by Bedford and Randolph to Cecil, was one of those who were privy to the plot for the assassination of David Rizzio. That he knew of it can scarcely be doubted. It may even be admitted that he entertained no special scruples with regard to the removal of an officious and obnoxious foreigner, whose influence on the Queen was being exercised to prevent her receiving the exiles into favour, and whom it was, moreover, originally intended to bring to trial, not, it is true, in a formal and legal manner, but with some sort of judicial proceeding sufficient to make his death appear an execution rather than a brutal murder. But there is no evidence to prove that his complicity went any further; on the other hand, it is noteworthy that his name does not appear in the list of ‘such as were consenting to the death of Davy,’ forwarded to Cecil within a fortnight after the occurrence. Nor can this omission be explained by the fact that Grange was known not to have returned to Edinburgh, with Murray and his company, till twenty-four hours after the murder. Knox has never been accused of being actually present at the grim tragedy either, and yet his name figures on the black roll. Finally, it is not unimportant to note that as early as the 4th of April, less than a month after the assassination of Rizzio, Bedford was able to announce to Cecil that the Laird of Grange was now restored to favour. If that did not refer to the remission of the pains and penalties he had incurred through his connection with the Round About Raid, it may be taken as evidence that his complicity with the murderers of the Secretary was not thought to be very direct.
Not many months elapsed before events far more startling and far more momentous in their results again called upon Sir William Kirkcaldy to play a prominent part both as a politician and as a soldier. On the 10th of February 1566, Darnley was murdered under circumstances which led many to believe not only that Bothwell was the murderer, but that Mary was his accomplice. Such was the view adopted by the Laird of Grange. When the mock trial of the Earl convinced him that the law of the land was powerless to inflict punishment on the perpetrator of the foul deed; and when, in addition to this, the subservience of five and twenty bishops, earls, and barons, who affixed their signatures to the notorious Ainslie Bond, showed him that a union with Mary would probably be the unscrupulous adventurer’s next step, he made an earnest appeal for help from England. ‘It may please your Lordship to let me understand,’ he wrote to Cecil, ‘what will be your sovereign’s part concerning the late murder committed among us; for albeit her Majesty was slow in all our last troubles, and therefore lost that favour we did bear unto her, yet nevertheless, if her Majesty will pursue for the revenge of the late murder, I dare assure your Lordship she shall win thereby all the hearts of all the best in Scotland again. Further, if we understand that her Majesty would assist us and favour us, we should not be long in revenging of this murder. The Queen caused ratify in Parliament the cleansing of Bothwell. She intends to take the Prince out of the Earl of Mar’s hands, and put him into Bothwell’s keeping, who murdered the King, his father. The same night the Parliament was dissolved, Bothwell called the most part of the noblemen to supper, for to desire of them their promise in writing and consent for the Queen’s marriage, which he will obtain; for she has said that she cares not to lose France, England, and her own country for him, and shall go with him to the world’s end in a white petticoat ere she leave him. Yea, she is so far past all shame, that she has caused make an act of Parliament against all those that shall set up any writing that shall speak anything of him. Whatever is unhonest reigns presently in this court. God deliver them from their evil!’
Before any answer could be returned to Sir William, his worst anticipations had been verified. With or without her consent, Mary had been carried off by Bothwell. Two days later another letter was sent from the Grange to the English agent in Berwick. It ran as follows: ‘The Queen will never cease till she has wrecked all the honest men of this realm. She was minded to cause Bothwell ravish her, to the end that she may the sooner end the marriage which she promised before she caused murder her husband. There is many that would revenge the murder, but that they fear your mistress. I am so suited to, for to enterprise the revenge, that I must either take it upon hand or else leave the country, which I am determined to do, if I can obtain license; but Bothwell is minded to cut me off ere I obtain it. The Queen minds hereafter to take the Prince out of the Earl of Mar’s hands, and put him in his hands that murdered his father. I pray your Lordship let me know what your mistress will do, for if we seek France we may find favour at their hands, but I would rather persuade to lean to England.’
That Kirkcaldy’s determination to go abroad was not merely empty and exaggerated talk was proved by the two plain facts reported by Sir William Drury—that Grange had sold all his corn and moveables, and that he had obtained a license to leave Scotland for seven years. It might have been well for him if his purpose had been carried out; but events shaped his conduct differently.
Sir William’s communications were duly forwarded to Elizabeth. The tone adopted by a subject in writing of his sovereign was highly displeasing to the English Queen, and shocked her exalted notions of regal dignity and prerogative. She consequently vouchsafed no reply to them; but she took occasion to express her indignation to Randolph, who thus reports to Leicester the substance of her remarks to him on the subject of Kirkcaldy’s plainly-worded arraignment of Mary’s conduct: ‘Her Majesty also told me that she had seen a writing sent from Grange to my Lord of Bedford, despitefully written against that Queen, in such vile terms as she could not abide the hearing of it, wherein he made her worse than any common woman. She would not that any subject, what cause soever there be proceeding from the prince, or whatsoever her life and behaviour is, should discover that unto the world; and thereof so utterly misliketh of Grange’s manner of writing and doing, that she condemns him for one of the worst in that realm, seeming somewhat to warn me of my familiarity with him, and willing that I should admonish him of her misliking. In this manner of talk it pleased her Majesty to retain me almost an hour.’
In the meantime, discontent at the Queen’s treatment of Bothwell had been spreading through the country, and was gradually assuming the tangible shape of a coalition having for its avowed object the punishment of Darnley’s murderers. The leading men of the movement were Argyle, Athole, and Morton. They made Stirling their headquarters; and it was there the Laird of Grange joined them in the early days of May. On the eighth of that month he again wrote to Bedford, no longer as a private individual, but with the authorisation, and in the name of the confederate Lords. ‘All such things as were done before the Parliament, I did write unto your Lordship at large,’ said he. ‘At that time the most part of the nobility, for fear of their lives, did grant to sundry things, both against their honours and consciences, who since have convened themselves at Stirling, where they have made a “band” to defend each other in all things that shall concern the glory of God and commonweal of their country. The heads that presently they agreed upon is, first, to seek the liberty of the Queen, who is ravished and detained by the Earl of Bothwell, who was the ravisher, and hath the strengths, munitions, and men of war at his commandment. The next head is the preservation and keeping of the Prince. The third is to pursue them that murdered the King. For the pursuit of these three heads they have promised to bestow their lives, lands, and goods. And to that effect their lordships have desired me to write unto your lordship, to the end they might have your sovereign’s aid and support for suppressing of the cruel murderer Bothwell, who, at the Queen’s last being in Stirling, suborned certain to have poisoned the Prince; for that barbarous tyrant is not contented to have murdered the father, but he would also cut off the son, for fear that he hath to be punished hereafter. The names of the Lords that convened in Stirling were the Earls of Argyle, Morton, Athole, and Mar. These forenamed, as said is, have desired me to write unto your Lordship, to the end that I might know by you if your sovereign would give them support concerning these three heads above written. Wherefore I beseech your lordship, who I am assured loveth the quietness of these two realms, to let me have a direct answer, and that with haste; for presently the foresaid Lords are suited unto by Monsieur de Croc, who offereth unto them, in his master, the King of France’s name, if they will follow his advice and counsel, that they shall have aid and support to suppress the Earl Bothwell and his faction. Also he hath admonished her to desist from the Earl Bothwell, and not to marry him; for if she do, he hath assured her that she shall neither have friendship nor favour out of France, if she shall have to do:[2] but his saying is, she will give no ear. There is to be joined with the four forenamed lords, the Earls of Glencairn, Cassillis, Eglinton, Montrose, Caithness; the Lords Boyd, Ochiltree, Ruthven, Drummond, Gray, Glammis, Innermeith, Lindsay, Hume, and Herries, with all the whole West Merse and Teviotdale, the most part of Fife, Angus and Mearns. And for this effect the Earl of Argyle is ridden in the West, the Earl of Athole to the North, and the Earl of Morton to Fife, Angus, and Montrose. The Earl of Mar remaineth still about the Prince; and if the Queen will pursue him, the whole Lords have promised, upon their faiths and honour, to relieve him. In this meantime the Queen is come to the Castle of Edinburgh, conveyed by the Earl Bothwell, where she intendeth to remain until she have levied some forces of footmen and horsemen, that is, she minds to levy five hundred footmen, and two hundred horsemen. The money that she hath presently to do this, which is five thousand crowns, came from the font your Lordship brought unto the baptism; the rest is to be reft and borrowed of Edinburgh, or the men of Lothian. It will please your Lordship also to haste these other letters to my Lord of Moray, and write unto him to come back again into Normandy, that he may be in readiness against my Lords write unto him.’
This time Queen Elizabeth deemed it expedient to take notice of Grange’s communication; and on the 17th of May, she instructed Bedford as to the answers which he was to return in her name, with regard to the three points indicated in the letter. As to the first of them—to have their sovereign delivered from bondage—Elizabeth pointed out that Mary’s own statement to herself was at variance with that of the Lords, and that the Scottish Queen attributed their hatred of Bothwell to the anger and disappointment which they felt at his having ‘in her distress recovered her liberty out of their hands.’
Respecting the preservation of the young prince, Elizabeth professed not to understand what was intended—whether the Lords merely wished to entrust him to the care of his grandmother, Lady Margaret Lennox, or whether they had some other object in view. She did not hide her anxiety to get him into her own keeping; and suggestively added that if she could not be trusted with his protection, she thought intermeddling with the rest of the matters would prove more hurtful than profitable. The notion of placing the Crown on the child’s head in the event of his mother’s marriage with Bothwell, was one which Elizabeth altogether refused to entertain—‘it was a matter for example’s sake, not to be digested by her or any other monarch.’
With reference to the pursuit of the murderers of the King, the English Queen confined herself to the diplomatic remark that she saw great difficulties in the way of undertaking it if Bothwell were to marry Mary.
Two days before this letter was written, the marriage had actually taken place. This was the signal for open and direct action on the part of the ‘Associators.’ With two thousand horse, which they had collected in all haste, they set forth from Stirling intending to seize Mary and Bothwell in the Palace of Holyrood. But this plan was frustrated by the sudden retreat of the Queen and her husband to Borthwick Castle. Thither the confederates followed them; but information of their advance having preceded them, they were again disappointed. Bothwell made good his escape, and betook himself to the stronghold of Dunbar, which Mary ‘in men’s clothes, booted and spurred’ also succeeded in reaching some hours after him, for, to ensure safety, they had found themselves obliged to part company.
On the 14th of June, the Queen and the Duke of Orkney, as Bothwell was now styled, marched out of Dunbar with an army of some four thousand men and six field pieces of brass, and reached Prestonpans in the evening. On receiving intelligence of these movements the Associators set out from Edinburgh, to which they had advanced from Borthwick; and about mid-day on Sunday the 15th of June, the opposing forces came into view of each other at Carberry Hill, eight miles from the Capital.
The royal troops having taken up their position on the hill, whilst the Lords had halted on the lower ground at its foot, Kirkcaldy of Grange, together with Douglas of Drumlanrig, Ker of Cessfurd, and Home of Cowdenknowes, was sent, at the head of two hundred horse, round the hill, towards the east side, for the double purpose of cutting off Bothwell’s retreat, and of securing more favourable ground for an attack. The men, who in obedience to the Queen’s command, had gathered round her standard, were but half-hearted in her cause; and Bothwell’s conduct had not increased their sympathy with her. As soon as they found themselves hemmed in between the infantry on the one side, and Kirkcaldy’s horse on the other, they began to desert in great numbers, and it is asserted that Mary and Bothwell were left with only sixty gentlemen and the band of arquebusiers. Seeing this, the Queen asked who led the cavalry. On learning that it was Grange, she sent Cockburn of Ormiston to summon him to an interview with her. After having informed the Lords of the message, and obtained their consent, Sir William rode forward. Although the Queen had pledged her word for his safety, it is asserted by Sir James Melville, that Bothwell had instructed a soldier to shoot him. Mary perceived the man, as he was taking aim, and uttering a loud cry, she exclaimed, ‘Shame us not with so foul a murder!’
In his conversation with the Queen, Kirkcaldy assured her that all in the field were ready to honour and serve her on the condition that she abandoned the Earl of Bothwell, who had murdered her husband, and who could not be a husband to her, as he had but lately married the Earl of Huntly’s sister. Hearing these words, Bothwell, who was standing near, exclaimed that he was ready to fight, in single combat, any man who laid Darnley’s death to his charge: ‘You shall have an answer speedily,’ said the Laird of Grange; and riding back, he obtained the Lords’ permission to do battle as their champion in the quarrel. On his return, however, he was objected to by Bothwell, as being neither Earl, nor Lord, but only a Baron, and consequently not his equal. The Laird of Tullibardine next offered to fight, but was refused on the same ground. ‘Then,’ exclaimed his elder brother, Sir William Murray, ‘I at least am his Peer; my estate is better than his, and my blood nobler.’ Him too Bothwell rejected, on the pretence that Tullibardine was not his equal in degree of honour, and, wishing he said, to have an Earl as his adversary, he selected Morton, who at once answered that he would fight on foot with a two-handed sword. Here, however, Lord Lindsay of the Byres put in his claim, as a relative of the murdered Darnley, and begged to be allowed to meet Bothwell. This was granted him, and Morton presented him with his own sword, a weapon he highly valued as having belonged to his ancestor, the famous Earl of Angus, ‘Bell-the-Cat.’ But all those preliminaries led to no result. Whether from pusillanimity, as some have maintained, or because of the Queen’s interference, as others have asserted, or, according to a third opinion, because the Lords, amongst whom were some of his former confederates, wished him well away, for fear lest being taken he might have revealed the whole plot, he retired from the field, without having struck a single blow.
Left to herself, Mary again sent for Grange, and told him that if the Lords would do as he had said, she would renounce Bothwell, and go over to them. Sir William having obtained their recognition of the promises which he had made, again rode up the hill to communicate it to the Queen. In reply, she said to him: ‘Laird of Grange, I render myself unto you, upon the condition you rehearsed unto me.’ With those words, she gave him her hand, which the gallant soldier respectfully kissed. Having helped her to mount, he led her horse by the bridle down the hill towards the Lords, who received their Queen with ‘all dutiful reverence.’ Some of the meaner sort, however, behaved in a very different manner; to check their coarse ribaldry, Grange struck at them with his drawn sword.
Mary’s ignominious entry into Edinburgh, and the treatment to which she was subjected after being taken, not to Holyrood, but to the house of Sir Simon Preston of Craigmillar, did not augur well for the observance of the conditions which Sir William had been authorised to grant on the field of Carberry. Indeed, there never seems to have been a serious thought on the part of any one except the Laird of Grange to keep faith with the unfortunate Queen. He, however, had been thoroughly sincere throughout; and his indignation was therefore great when he learnt that it had been resolved to relegate Mary, as a prisoner for life, to the island fortress in Lochleven. When he protested against the violation of the promise which he had made to the Queen, he was told that on the very night of her return to Edinburgh, Mary had written to Bothwell, and bribed one of her keepers to get her letter conveyed to him, but that the man had handed it over to the Lords. In this letter, it was alleged, she called the Earl her Dear Heart, whom she should never forget nor abandon, though she was obliged to be absent from him for the time; she assured him her only object in sending him away had been to ensure his safety; and she besought him to be comforted and to remain on his guard.
Even though he does not appear to have questioned the genuineness of her letter, Kirkcaldy urged that it did not free them from the obligation contracted by them towards the Queen. In spite of it, she had, in actual fact, abandoned the Earl; and that she should give him a few fair words was, he said, no wonder. He expressed his own conviction that ‘if she were discreetly handled, and humbly admonished what inconveniences that man had brought upon her, she would by degrees be brought not only to leave him, but ere long to detest him; and therefore he advised to deal gently with her.’
To Sir William’s earnest remonstrances, the Lords replied that ‘it stood them upon their lives and lands; and that therefore, in the meantime, they behoved to secure her; and when that time came that she should be known to abandon and detest Earl Bothwell, it would be then time to reason upon the matter.’ Their arguments did not, however, satisfy him, and ‘had it not been for the letter, he had instantly left them.’
In the meantime, Mary had written to the Laird of Grange, complaining of the harsh treatment to which she had been subjected, and protesting against the breach of faith of which she was the victim. His answer was to the effect that he himself had already reproached the Lords with their conduct towards her, but that they had shown him a letter of hers to the Earl of Bothwell, in which ‘Among many other fair and comfortable words,’ she promised never to abandon or forget him. ‘That,’ he said, ‘had stopped his mouth.’ He went on to express his wonder that her Majesty could consider herself wedded to a man who had but recently married another woman, and deserted her without any just ground. He besought her ‘to put him clean out of mind, seeing otherwise she could never get the love or respect of her subjects, nor have that obedience paid her, which otherwise she might expect;’ and he added ‘many other loving and humble admonitions, which made her bitterly to weep; for she could not do that so hastily, which process of time might have accomplished.’
Judging that the most practical means of destroying Bothwell’s influence would be to get possession of his person—a measure which had been strangely and, indeed, suspiciously neglected at Carberry—and to bring him to justice, Sir William readily accepted the command of an expedition having for its object the capture of the Earl. After Carberry, the Duke of Orkney had betaken himself to his dukedom, which had not yet seen its new master. Having met with a very hostile reception at the hands of Gilbert Balfour, the keeper of Kirkwall, he went over to Shetland, where the more friendly bailiff, Olaf Sinclair, supplied him with provisions. The two vessels with which he had come from the south being but small, he got possession of two Hanseatic ships, the Pelican and the Breame. After forcibly seizing them and casting out their cargoes on the shore, as Geert Hemelingk related, he had obliged the two German skippers to sign a contract, so as to give his act of violence the appearance of a legitimate transaction, and had begun a piratical cruise amongst the islands. He was reported to have killed the Bishop of Orkney’s son and put all his servants out of the castle.
On the 12th of August, Kirkcaldy, with whom was Sir William Murray of Tullibardine, received seabrieves, ‘for the seeking, searching, and apprehension of the Earl of Bothwell and his accomplices.’ Exactly a week later, he set sail for Dundee, fully determined to give the pirate Earl no chance of escape. In a letter to Bedford, written immediately before his departure, he said: ‘And for my owne part, albeit I be no gud seeman, I promess unto your Lordship, gyf I may anes encounter hym, eyther be see or land, he shall either carie me with him, or else I shall bryng him dead or quick to Edinburgh.’
The squadron under his orders consisted of four ships—the Unicorn, on which he himself embarked, the Primrose, the James, and the Robert. They were all heavily armed, and had four hundred arquebusiers, besides the respective crews.
Calling at Kirkwall, Grange was informed that Bothwell was at Shetland, and at once made for the Bressay Sound. There the Pelican and the Breame, with the two lesser craft, were seen lying at anchor. A number of the men belonging to the crews were on shore, and the Earl himself was dining with Sinclair. When those who remained on board caught sight of the squadron as it entered the Sound by the south, they slipped their cables, and setting all sail, steered for the northern channel. In spite of the remonstrances of his master-mariner, Kirkcaldy, bent on carrying out the dashing tactics which he had so often found successful in his cavalry charges on land, ordered every stitch of canvas to be crowded on the Unicorn, and hastened in pursuit. His ship sailed well, and was gradually gaining on the hindmost of the fugitives; but it drew more water than they. Even for them, the navigation of the rock-strewn channel was difficult and dangerous. One of them grazed a sunken reef, over which it barely managed to slip, though not without damage. The Unicorn was less fortunate. Striking the same rock with violence, it filled and sank so rapidly that Grange and his men were with difficulty rescued by the other ships. The rock that caused the catastrophe is still known by the name of the vessel to which it proved fatal.
When Bothwell heard of Kirkcaldy’s arrival, he succeeded in reaching the Pelican, which, with its consorts, had retired to Unst, the most northerly of the islands. But before he could get safely away the pursuers were upon him again. There followed a sharp engagement which lasted three hours, and in the course of which the mast of his best ship was shot down. He owed his deliverance to a south-westerly gale which suddenly sprang up and drove him out to sea, together with two of his other ships. The fourth was captured; but Grange was obliged to return to Dundee with a few prisoners of inferior note. The Earl whom he had promised to take quick or dead, had escaped to Norway.
Whilst Sir William Kirkcaldy was cruising in the North, important events were taking place in the Capital. The enforced abdication of Queen Mary had been followed by the appointment of her half-brother, the Lord James, Earl of Murray, to be Regent of the Realm. One of his first acts was to obtain the surrender of Edinburgh Castle from Sir James Balfour, who had been made Governor of it by the interest of Bothwell. That had not prevented him, however, from siding with the Lords when he saw the success of their arms. But, ‘though they loved the treachery, they had no great liking for the man.’ And they were anxious to prevent the possibility of his again turning against them, if circumstances should seem to favour the Queen’s party. On the 24th of August, he agreed to deliver the fortress into the Regent’s hands, subject to certain conditions, of which one was that the Laird of Grange should succeed him as Governor and should pledge his word for his safety. When Kirkcaldy returned to Edinburgh, he found himself appointed to the command of what was then one of the most important strongholds in Scotland.
For a few months after this, the country enjoyed a brief respite. But the Queen’s friends had not abandoned her. On the third of May 1568, Murray, who was at Glasgow on justiciary business, received the unexpected and startling information that Mary had escaped from Lochleven the day before. The news was soon confirmed by a message from the Queen herself, who, as soon as she reached Hamilton, ‘sent a gentleman to the Earl of Murray and the other Lords, to declare that she was delivered by God’s providence out of captivity, and albeit she had consented to a certain kind of approving their authority, she was thereunto, for defence of her life, compelled; seeing God had thus mercifully relieved her, she now desired them that they would restore her with quietness to her former dignity and estate, and she would in like manner, wholly remit all manner of actions committed against her honour and person.’
Murray’s unconditional refusal to resign the regency and restore Mary, was followed on both sides by active preparation for war. In answer to his proclamation some 4,000 men assembled in Glasgow, which he had made his headquarters. Amongst them was a body of arquebusiers and archers, who had come from Edinburgh with Sir William Kirkcaldy. The Queen’s partisans had gathered round her in even greater numbers; and contemporary accounts estimate the strength of her forces at fully 6,000.
The Regent having received information that it was Mary’s intention to proceed to Dumbarton, drew up his army outside the Gallowgate Port, but, at the same time, he sent Kirkcaldy to reconnoitre the ground lying between the Clyde and Langside. He was thus prepared to intercept the royal forces, whether the northern or the southern side of the river were chosen for their line of march.
Early in the morning of the 13th of May, the Queen with her army started on her march to Dumbarton. From the elevated position which he held at the Calton, Murray perceived the advancing columns of the enemy as they neared Rutherglen. As soon as it was ascertained that the vanguard was not taking a northerly direction, for the purpose of crossing the Clyde at the Dalmarnock ford, Grange, with an arquebusier mounted behind each of his two hundred horsemen, rode with all speed back to Glasgow, forded the river at the east of the old Bridge, and made for Langside, where the road to Dumbarton lay between a commanding eminence and the Clyde, and where he had already selected an advantageous position. On reaching Langside hill, he posted his footmen at the head of a narrow lane, where cottages and gardens afforded them shelter and made it impossible for the enemy’s cavalry to dislodge them.
With his infantry and his ordnance, which was carried in carts, Murray made all haste towards Langside, along the route already taken by Grange. Although he had further to march than had his opponents, the comparative slowness of their movements, due partly to their greater numbers, and partly to the confidence which they felt that no attempt would be made to hinder their progress, enabled him to reach the village and to take up his position before they came in view. As soon as Lord Claud Hamilton, who commanded the 2,000 men of the Queen’s vanguard, saw that the village was occupied, he made an attempt to carry the lane in which Grange had posted his infantry. A sharp fire checked the advance, and threw the assailants into confusion for a time. Rallying, however, they courageously and fiercely stormed the hill held by Murray. Grange, to whose experience and discretion it had been left to ‘encourage and make help where greatest need was,’ was at this point; and, as the foremost ranks came to close quarters, he gave his men an order which illustrates the peculiar mode of warfare of the time. He called out to them, says Melville, who was present, ‘to let their adversaries first lay down spears, to bear up theirs.’ A stubborn struggle ensued. According to Buchanan’s account, the two brigades held out a thick stand of pikes like a breast-work before them, and fought desperately for half-an-hour, without yielding ground on either side; insomuch that they whose long spears were broken, hurled pistols, daggers, stones, fragments of lances, and whatever was at hand, into the faces of the enemy.’
Another remarkable incident is mentioned by Melville. ‘So thick,’ he says, ‘were the spears fixed in others’ jacks, that some of the pistols and great staves that were thrown by them which were behind, might be seen lying upon the spears.’
In the meantime, Grange perceived that the right wing of the Regent’s vanguard, chiefly composed of men from the Barony of Renfrewshire, was beginning to waver. Hastening to them, he called out that the enemy was already giving way, and besought them to hold out till he returned with reinforcements. Then riding at full speed to the Regent’s left wing, which had been standing in reserve, he obtained a body of fresh troops, with which he dashed at the enemy’s flank. This movement decided the fate of the battle. The vanguard of the Queen’s army was forced to fall back upon the main body, which, instead of supporting it and enabling it to rally, broke into precipitate flight. Grange pursued with the cavalry; but he ‘was never cruel,’ and moreover, the Regent had issued orders to save and not to kill, so that there were but few taken, and fewer slain. No indiscriminate slaughter of his fleeing countrymen was needed to make the victory complete and decisive. His clever tactics and his courageous behaviour had secured that already.
On the 8th of May 1568, immediately before his departure to join the forces of the Regent in Glasgow, Sir William Kirkcaldy, being obliged to withdraw a considerable part of the garrison on which the safety, no less of the Capital than of the stronghold depended, took the precaution of securing the active co-operation of the citizens themselves, for the repression of any insurrectionary movement in the Queen’s favour, by means of a mutual bond signed by himself on behalf of the Castle, and by Sir Simon Preston of Craigmillar, Provost of Edinburgh, acting for himself, the bailies, Council, and community. With many protestations of loyalty to the ‘most undoubted sovereign’s Regent and Governor, James, Earl of Murray,’ and with strong expressions of indignation at the ‘unnatural and ungodly proceedings’ of those who were convened in arms against him, it bound each of the contracting parties to assist the other ‘at all times and in all places needful, against all and sundry.’
After his return from the brief but decisive expedition, to the success of which he had materially contributed, the Governor of the Castle was entrusted with the custody of some of the most important of the prisoners taken at Langside. A few months later, his steady adherence to the Regent brought him the double distinction of being raised to the dignity of Provost of Edinburgh, and of being not only denounced by the leaders of the faction which still looked upon the exiled Mary as the lawful sovereign, but actually ordered by them to constitute himself a prisoner, within twenty days, in the Castle of Dumbarton. When next he appeared as a prominent actor in the politics of the time, circumstances had worked startling changes in the respective positions of parties, and were already hurrying public men towards a momentous crisis, under the influence of which old ties were to be violently severed, and new sympathies and new aims were to bring former friends into bitter conflict with each other.
The policy which Elizabeth had adopted from the moment when the Scottish Queen was in her power, and the discovery of her scheme for assuming the virtual management of Scottish affairs, after obtaining possession of the infant prince, had produced a strong revulsion in the feelings of many who had hitherto looked trustingly and hopefully towards England; and Murray’s popularity, already shaken by his severity towards Mary’s adherents, after the battle of Langside, sank lower and lower as proof after proof of his subserviency to the English Government was produced by his opponents. Those who, realising the difficulty of his position, and believing that he was as much the victim as the accomplice of the unscrupulous policy of Elizabeth and her astute minister, Cecil, were still inclined to give him credit for sincerity and honesty of purpose, felt their confidence in him die away when, to propitiate Elizabeth, he consented to the impeachment of Maitland. Amongst them was Kirkcaldy. At first, indeed, he could not bring himself to believe in the Regent’s responsibility for the step. Writing to Bedford, he confessed that he was unable to give a better or certain ground for the committing of Lethington to ward but the malice and envy of some of his enemies, who by means of a faction, had craftily induced the Regent to do that which he was most unwilling to do. He was assured, he said, that Murray in his heart sorely repented that ever he had yielded to their passions; and he felt no doubt that the trial would result in a declaration of the innocence of Lethington and the confusion of his enemies.
The confidence which Kirkcaldy still endeavoured to feel in his old friend Murray, was roughly shaken by a letter which he received from Lord Doune, and from which he learnt that it was a part of the Regent’s plan to get possession of Edinburgh Castle, and to entrust it to the keeping of the Laird of Drumwhazel. So far as he was personally concerned, Grange was so heartily tired of public life, of the plotting and counter-plotting which seemed to have become the very essence of politics, that he would very willingly have surrendered his command, and have withdrawn altogether from the Court. For the sake of Lethington, however, whose danger he fully realised, and to whom he knew that he might be of service so long as he retained the power and influence which the possession of the Castle gave him, he determined to remain at his post. At the same time, he thought it his duty to remonstrate with Murray, and to point out to him the injustice of his conduct towards the Secretary, as well as towards Sir James Balfour who had also been arrested, and in whom Kirkcaldy was in so far interested, that, on taking over the command of the Castle, he had pledged his word for the safety of the former Governor. In his reply, Murray endeavoured to throw the whole responsibility upon the Council. The members, he alleged, were so banded together against Maitland and Balfour, and the charge of murder brought against both of them was so grave, that he could not take it on himself to release them from custody. He promised, however, that, at his next meeting with Kirkcaldy, he would explain his views and show them to be perfectly honourable. In the meantime, he besought him to suspend his judgment.
Sir William refused to be satisfied with the obvious evasion, and he met it with a bold and vigorous measure. Seeing that it was really intended to bring Maitland and Balfour to trial for their lives he demanded that Morton and Archibald Douglas should be dealt with in the same manner. He charged them with being ‘upon the council, and consequently art and part of the King’s murder.’ In support of the accusation he offered to meet them in single combat with Lord Herries as his fellow-champion. This stayed the proceedings against the two prisoners for a while. Still protesting that he was a helpless and unwilling agent in the matter of their impeachment Murray informed Kirkcaldy that he intended to send Balfour to St Andrews, and to bring Lethington to Edinburgh for the purpose of entrusting him to the safe-keeping of the Governor of the Castle. At the same time, however, Grange received information that this apparent concession hid a treacherous plot against himself. It was intended to make the Secretary an instrument to draw his friend, the Governor, from the Castle into the town, under pretence of handing the prisoner over to him; and then to retain him until the fortress had been given over to Drumwhazel. Kirkcaldy was subsequently to be sent home, and to be appeased with a gift of the Priory of Pittenweem.
According to Melville, Morton had devised a more unscrupulous plot, with a view to revenging himself upon Kirkcaldy. ‘He had appointed four men to slay Grange at the entry of the Regent’s lodging, without the Regent’s knowledge.’ But the Governor had a scheme of his own, which effectually thwarted those of his two adversaries. Arguing that if, as he declared, the Regent had really been coerced into sanctioning the arrest of Lethington, he would be glad of his escape; but that if, on the contrary, he were playing a double game, his disappointment at losing his prisoner would expose his treachery, the Laird of Grange resolved to rescue Maitland from the hands of his enemies.
On his arrival in Edinburgh the Secretary was committed to the custody of Alexander Hume of North Berwick. That same evening, about ten o’clock, Kirkcaldy went to Hume with an order bearing what purported to be the Regent’s signature. Hume knew that Murray and the Laird had but lately been on terms of the closest friendship; but he does not appear to have been aware of their more recent estrangement and antagonism. Suspecting no deception, and very possibly unacquainted with the Regent’s handwriting, he assumed the genuineness of the document presented to him, and allowed Maitland to be quietly conveyed to the Castle.
When Murray and his friends learnt that the Secretary was no longer in their power they were in great perplexity, ‘supposing all their counsels to be disclosed.’ It was thought best, however, that the Regent should cover his anger for the time, and that he should take the earliest opportunity of calling upon Grange at the Castle as though nothing had happened. This he did the very next day. But in his anxiety to deceive the Governor he protested too much, and gave him more fair words than he was wont to do, ‘which Grange took in evil part.’
The Castle was becoming the headquarters of Murray’s opponents. He had, prior to Maitland’s arrest, induced the Duke of Chastelherault and Lord Herries to come to Edinburgh with a view to discussing the position of affairs, and had then handed them as prisoners to the custody of the Governor. Grange had duly received them, but he treated them as friends and as guests, and protested against the treachery of which they had been the victims. John Wood, an ardent partisan of the Regent’s, was sent to the Castle for the purpose of appeasing and conciliating the Governor. The substance of their conversation, as reported by Melville, goes far to explain Kirkcaldy’s attitude towards the party of which he had once been a zealous supporter. ‘I marvel at you,’ said Wood, ‘that you will be offended at this; for how shall we, who are my Lord’s dependers, get rewards, but by the wreck of such men?’—‘Yea,’ replied Grange, ‘is that your holiness? I see nothing among you but envy, greediness, and ambition; whereby you will wreck a good Regent, and ruin the country.’
In spite of Murray’s assumed indifference, Lethington’s escape caused him the most grievous disappointment and annoyance; and it was evident that he and Grange were gradually being carried further apart. With a view to preventing an open rupture between them, Melville devised a plan, which he took it on himself to lay before the Regent. He suggested that Lethington should retire to France, and that after his friend’s departure, Kirkcaldy should, of his own accord, resign his command of Edinburgh Castle. The Regent, however, still protested that he bore Maitland no ill-will, and had no wish to drive him into exile. As to Grange, he said he had too many obligations to him, and too great proofs of his fidelity to mistrust him. It had never been his intention, he again declared, to take the Castle from him; and if it were not in his keeping already, he would entrust it to him rather than to any other. He even went further than that, and denied that he entertained any suspicion of either Grange or the Secretary. In proof of the sincerity of his words, he went up to the Castle and ‘conferred friendly with them of all his affairs, with a merry countenance, and casting in many purposes, minding them of many straits and dangers they had formerly been together engaged in.’ But both Kirkcaldy and Maitland were too well acquainted with him, and had too long ‘been his chief advisers under God,’ not to detect the violent effort which this show of friendship cost him. No good to either party resulted from the interview. Indeed, it is scarcely possible to doubt that an irremediable breach was only prevented by Murray’s tragic and untimely end. He was shot by Bothwellhaugh on the 23rd of January 1569. Political differences were forgotten in the presence of death; and Kirkcaldy’s grief at his former friend and comrade’s untimely fate was heartfelt and sincere. When Murray’s body was solemnly carried to its resting-place in the Cathedral of St Giles, he was amongst those who came to pay him the last tribute of respect. It was he who, bearing the banner of the murdered Earl, headed the mournful procession from Holyrood to the church.