The Queen's Maries: A Romance of HolyroodWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
General
The Queen's Maries: A Romance of Holyrood
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
Mary, Queen of Scots, 1542-1587 -- Fiction
Then, as if her difficulties were not sufficiently perplexing without
foreign interference, her relatives, the Guises, lost no opportunity of
reminding her that they looked to her alone for the restoration of the
Religion in Scotland, and eventually over the whole of Britain; whilst
a strong party in Spain furnishing her, for aid, with nothing but
unasked advice, actually reproached her for lukewarmness in the cause
to which she was sacrificing day by day her authority, her comfort, her
very safety, and to which she was so sincerely attached, that, rather
than resign it, she would have lost, as she afterwards did lose, her
crown, ay, and the head that it encircled.
The insults levelled at her person, through her belief, constantly
goaded her to anger, which prudential considerations urged her to
suppress; and when pictures were paraded before her in the streets,
ridiculing all that she held most sacred, and priests maltreated in her
own chapel for the performance of their ritual and hers, it is painful
to imagine the feelings of a sensitive woman and a Queen compelled to
forego her revenge, and even to court the favour of those undutiful
subjects who had originated such overt and outrageous scandal.
No wonder she galloped on with burning cheeks and swelling heart,
reflecting only on the failure of her benevolent scheme so thwarted by
the obstinate integrity of Knox, and insensible as the very horse that
carried her to the beautiful scene opened out at her very feet.
Before her lay the noble sweep of St Andrew’s Bay, framed, as it were,
in its golden sands, that stretched far to the north along the coast
of Forfarshire, till their tawny line was lost in the distant ocean
at the jutting promontory of the Red-head. Clear against the blue
expanse, clotted here and there with a white sail, rose the delicate
pinnacles of the cathedral, supported on the right by the bluff square
tower of St Regulus, firm and massive like some bold champion, proud
yet careful of his charge. On the left, far out into the water, stood
the sea-girt defences of the castle, while between these prominent
objects many a graceful arch and pointed spire denoted the churches and
colleges adorning that stronghold of learning and piety, refining the
taste with their exalted beauty, whilst they carried the eye upwards
towards heaven. Below these, the smiling town, with its white houses
and gardens scattered more and more as they neared the water, straggled
downwards to the beach; and, beyond all, the broad sea lay, calm and
mighty in the serenity of its majestic repose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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