The chief actor in this tragedy was undoubtedly James Hepburn, earl Bothwell, a 'needy. reckless, vainglorious, profligate noble, who, since Murray's revolt, and still more .since Rizzio's murder, had enjoyed a large share of the queen's favor. But there were suspicions that the queen herself was not wholly ignorant of the plot, and these sus picions could not but be strengthened by what followed. On April 12 Bothwell was brought to a mock-trial and acquitted; on the 24th he intercepted the queen on her way from Linlithgow to Edinburgh, and carried her, with scarcely a show of resistance, to Dunbar. On May 7 he was divorced from the young and comely wife whom he had married little more than a twelvemonth before; on the 12th Mary publicly pardoned his .seizure of her person, and created him duke of Orkney; and on the 15th—only three months after her husband's murder—she married the man whom every one regarded as his murderer.
This fatal step at once arrayed her nobles in arms against her. She was able to lead au army against them, but it melted away without striking a blow on the field of Car berry (June 15), when nothing was left to her but to abandon Bothwell and surrender herself to the confederated lords. They led her to Edinburgh, where the insults of the ,rabble and grief at parting with Bothwell threw her into such a frenzy that slie refused all nourishment, and rushing to the window of the room in which she was kept prisoner called for help, and showed herself to the people half-naked, with her hair hanging about her ears.
From Edinburgh, she was hurried to Loch Leven, .where, July 24, she was prevailed upon to sign an act of abdication iu favor of her son, who, five days afterwards, was crowned at Stirling. Escaping from her island prison May 2, 1568, she found herself in a few days at the head of an arruy of 6,000 men. On the 12th, it was met and defeated by the regent Murray at Langside, near Glasgow. Four days afterwards, in spite of the entreaties of her best friends, Mary croseed the Solway, and threw herself on the protec tion of queen Elizabeth, only to find herself a prisoner for life. From Carlisle, her first place of captivity, she was taken, in July, to Bolton; from Bolton, she was carried, in. February, 1569, to Tutbury; from Tutbury, she passed in succession to Wingfield, to. Coventry, to Chatsworth, to Sheffield, to Buxton, and to Chartley. She was removed, last of all, to Fotheringhay, in September, 1586, there to be tried on a charge of com plicity in a plot against the life of Elizabeth. Sentence of death was pronounced against her Oct. 25; but it was not until Feb. 1, 1587, that Elizabeth took courage to sign the warrant of execution. It was carried into effect on the 8th, when Mary laid her head upon the block with the dignity of a queen and the constancy and resignation of a. martyr. Five months afterwards, her body was buried with great pomp at Peterborough4 whence, in 1612, it was removed to king Henry VII.'s chapel at Westminster, where it still lies in a sumptuous tomb erected by king James VI.
The character of Mary was long one of the most fiercely-vexed questions of history, and is still in debate, although the great preponderance of authority seems now to be on, the side of those who believe in her criminal' love for Bothwell and her guilty knowledge of his conspiracy against her husband's life. Her beauty and accomplishments have never been disputed. " She was confessed' by every one "—says Mr. Joseph Robertsom
one of the latest writers on her life—" she was confessed by every one to be the most charming princess of her time. Her large sharp features might perhaps have been. thought handsome rather than beautiful, but for the winning vivacity and high joyous spirit which beamed through them. It has been questioned whether her eyes were hazel or dark gray, but there is no question as to their starlike brightness. Her complexion, although fresh and clear, would seem to have been without the brilliance so common. among our island beauties. Her hair appears to have changed with her years from a ruddy yellow to auburn, and from auburn to dark brown or black, turning gray long before its time. Fler bust was full and finely shaped, and she carried her large stately figure with majesty and grace. She showed to advantage on horseback, and still more in the dance. The charm of her soft, sweet voice is described as irresistible; and she sang well, accompanying herself on the harp, the virginals, and still oftener on the lute, which set off the beauty of her long, delicate, white hand. The consciousness how that hand was admired may have made it more diligent in knitting and in embroidery, ilb both of which she excelled. Her manner was sprightly, affable, kindly, frank perhaps t,o excess, if judged by the somewhat austere rule already beginning to prevail among her Scottish subjects. She spoke three or four languages, was well and variously informed, talked admirably, and wrote both in prose and in verse, always with ease, and. sometimes with grace or vigor. In the ring of which she was the center, were statesmen, like Murray and Lethington, soldiers like Kyrkcaldy of Grange, men of letters like. Buchanan, Lesley, sir Richard Maitland, and sir James Melville. The first poet of France published verses deploring his absence from her brilliant court; Damville, the flower of' French chivalry, repined at the fate which called him away from it so soon; Brantome• and the younger Scaliger delighted to speak, in old age, of the days which they passed beneath its roof." Mary's prose-writings have been collected by the enthusiastic devotion of prince Alex ander Labanoff, in his Recuell des Lettres de Marie Stuart. Setting aside the twelve son nets which she is said to have written to Bothwell, and which survive only in a French version of an English translation, no more than six pieces of her poetry, containing in all less than 300 lines, are now known. They have no remarkable merit. The best is the poem of eleven stanzas on the death of her first husband, Francis II., printed by Branttime. The longest is a Meditation of a hundred lines, written in 1572, and pub lished two years afterwards by her ever faithful follower, bishop Lesley of Ross. Al/ are in French, except one sonnet, wkich is in Italian. The sweetly simple lines begin ning, "Adieu, plaisant pays de France," so often ascribed to her, are the work of A. G. Meusnier de Querlon, a French journalist, who died in 1780. A volume of French verse. on the Institution of a Prince, which she wrote for the use of her sou, has been lost since 1627, along with a Latin speech in vindication of learned women, which, when no more than thirteen, she delivered in the hall of the Louvre, in presence of the French court.