What was Mary, Queen of Scots' life really like in her English prison?

The Herald Scotland

2 days ago

In hindsight, Mary's fate was sealed by her flight to England, after defeat by her enemies at the Battle of Langside in May, 1568. Expecting her cousin Elizabeth I to help her quell the Scottish rebels and regain her throne was a calamitous misjudgement since Mary had a strong claim to the English throne and her presence in England posed a deadly threat to Elizabeth and the realm. Nor was she in any way meek. Sir Francis Knollys, her custodian at Carlisle Castle, early in her captivity, described her as showing 'A great desire to be avenged of her enemies… The thing she most thirsteth after is victory.'
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Perhaps because what followed was in some respects inevitable, many historians have galloped through the period when she was held in captivity as if it holds little interest. Yet Mary's almost 19 perilous and eventful years as a prisoner were anything but a footnote.
Between her arrival in England in 1568 and her execution in 1587, she lived in an almost perpetual state of agitation and dread, with an ongoing series of intrigues and dramas – including armed rebellions and daring plans for escape – keeping hopes alive that she might regain her liberty. There was even the possibility of her being restored to her throne with Elizabeth's blessing.
As with my previous book Homecoming: The Scottish Years of Mary, Queen of Scots, Exile is told through the locations where Mary lived and history unfolded. Approaching it in this way offers an extra dimension to our understanding of what she experienced. It is one thing to know that after arriving in England she was constantly shuttled between residences, quite another to visit these buildings and stand where she stood. To gaze over the same countryside or streets as she once did is to share something of her experience, to find the connection between her age and ours.
Exile: The Captive Years of Mary Queen of Scots (Image: Rosemary Goring)
At times this is largely an exercise of the imagination, as at Chartley or Fotheringhay, where so few traces remain. At others, though, such as Bolton Castle in Yorkshire or St Mary's Guildhall in Coventry, the 16th century and its Machiavellian politics can almost be tasted in the air.
Finding a fresh angle from which to view Mary's downfall is reason enough to revisit her life. So too is groundbreaking research. In the case of Mary, the announcement in 2023 by a team of international cryptographers that they had discovered a cache of ciphered letters written during the years 1578-1584 has reignited interest. These furtive missives shed further light on the queen's diplomatic manoeuvring and reveal the issues that consumed her in captivity.
The day-to-day detail of Mary's imprisonment, as shown in these letters and in other sources, is enthralling. We see the nature of her friendships and alliances within her entourage, among her far-flung supporters and, most vividly, with her captors, especially the melancholy Earl of Shrewsbury and his shrewd, opportunistic wife, Bess of Hardwick.
Equally fascinating is the gradual change in Mary herself. Suffering chronic ill health, she subtly changed from the headstrong, vivacious, open-hearted young woman who rode at the head of her army and danced the night away at the Palace of Holyrood into a far more cunning and calculating individual. Prematurely aged, she lost her youthful beauty and grace. In their place she gained a richness of personality, growing more thoughtful, pious and formidable.
Exile traces these shifts in character as her focus narrowed to self-preservation and she learned to place her faith in God alone. Although this part of her tale is cloistered compared with the adventurous activity of her life in Scotland – more Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy than The Three Musketeers – it is even more compelling.
The thread that runs through Mary's prison years is her duel with Elizabeth. Each was devoured by suspicion of the other, creating an atmosphere in which deception flourished. The machinations of Elizabeth's spymaster, Francis Walsingham, saw the English state conduct a campaign of undercover espionage unrivalled until the Cold War. With the full force of the English secret state acting against her, what chance did Mary have? For her part, Mary revelled in the chance to contact her supporters covertly by means of coded letters, and was happy to use anyone, be it a laundry maid or a biddable aristocrat, to convey her messages to the outside world.
Beneath the dramas and the diplomatic jousting that enliven these years runs a constant undercurrent of secrecy and treachery. No matter in which of the grim fortresses or grand houses she was confined, Mary spent much of her time at her desk writing, petitioning, demanding. Countless candles were burned as she wrote into the early hours, the flickering light in her chamber visible evidence of her unquenchable spirit. Some of these letters are bread and butter, but many bring her into the room with us. On her forty-second birthday, 8 December 1584, Mary wrote to Elizabeth: 'may god give you as many happy years as I have had of sorrow these last 20 years!'
To the last, she retained her wit and her dignity. Is it any wonder, then, that she has beguiled every generation since? Whether viewed as a woman unequal to the demands of the throne or as a ruler crushed by forces beyond her control, she remains a compelling figure whose tragedy has fired the imagination of novelists, poets, songwriters the world over.
Even Bob Dylan is said to have written about her in 'It's All Over Now, Baby Blue', supposedly a reference to the sky-blue stockings she wore on the scaffold. I can't see it in the lyrics, but the musician Richard Thompson makes a persuasive case that this is Dylan's homage, relocating events to Greenwich Village. If nothing else, 'It's All Over Now, Baby Blue' would make a good title for the last chapter of Mary's life.
Exile: The Captive Years of Mary, Queen of Scots, is published by Birlinn.