MARY QUEEN OF SCO0TS

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 3996, 21 April 1931, Page 2

MARY QUEEN OF SCOOTS

THE THRALDOM OF BEAUTY Wandering about Edinburgh more particularly in the “ old town ” it often seemed to me that the two greatest living personalities there to-day are John Knox and Mary Queen of Scots, both of them dead 300 years ago (writes Donald Maclean, in the Melbourne ‘ Argus ’). One could actually feel their presence, or so it seemed. One would not have been surprised at any moment to see the window of Knox’s house fly open, and the severe figure of the great Reformer lean out to harangue the crowds in the street; or yet to note a stir at the Holyrood end of the “ historic mile ” and to see the fair Queen of Scots, surrounded by the gay -noblemen and ladies who formed her court, come riding up the hill toward the castle. Whatever Mary’s influence for good or ill, it ceased for all practical purposes on the day of her marriage to Bothwell. Henceforth her partisans might use her for their own ends, but contemporary evidence indicates that they, no less than the ordinary run of people, were horrified by that appalling act of folly. But by her long imprisonment, and by the splendid fortitude with which she met her end at Fotheringay, Mary again won all hearts, and Scotsmen of every shade of opinion now speak her name with pride and affection. The question of her guilt or innocence is still hotly debated. For some it is a matter of politics, for others of religion, for others of an unreasoning sentiment which discounts all evidence ‘but that which it wishes to believe. But, strange to say, there are men to-day in plenty who, while thoroughly convinced that the Queen was guilty not merely of such cold-blooded, calculated treachery as the world has rarely seen, but of murder itself, are yet one with her most devoted adherents in the fervour of their admiration for her. Hating the sin as they conceive it, they yet somehow contrive to love the sinner. A LEGEND. 'The reason for this extraordinary state of mind is not easy to define. Something of it may possibly be ascribed to her courage, something to pity for her misfortunes, and some-thing—-perhaps most of all—to her matchless beauty and charm. Herein is a marvellous thing that the beauty of a woman should persist, not merely as -a legend, but as a living influence, captivating the hearts of multitudes hundreds of years' after that beauty has mouldered into dust. I recall an old Covenanting lady in Glasgow, who told me with a kind of awe that Mary’s skin was so transparently fair that when she drank you might see the glow of the red wine as it passed down her throat. That indicates something of what many now believe; and if you take their word for it, Mary was the most beautiful woman not only of her time, but of all time. Most of us would be ready enough to accept this were it not that certain critics will have it that Mary’s beauty was no great thing after ail, and that it existed mainly in the eyes of her admirers. Nor can the assertion be brushed aside as only another ex’ample of the presentday mania for upsetting established beliefs. The sceptics are able to give reasons for the doubt that is in them, and they appeal especially to the authentic portraits. “ Name one,” they say, “ which even suggests beauty of an unusual type.” So the question which confronts us is whether the tradition of the tragic Queen’s surpassing loveliness has a basis in solid fact, or is merely a legend built up by fond, partial fancy. H the proof rests with Mary’s contemporaries there can be small doubt of the matter. Distinguished winters and men of letters, such as Du Bellay, Ronsard, Brantome, and Castlenau, all thorough-going blase men of the world, mixing in Court circles, and accustomed to the society of the most beautiful women in Europe, unitedly describe her beauty as far exceeding “ all that is, shall be, or ever has been.” Men of a move serious type, such as Blackwood and De Thou, are almost equally eloquent. Knox himself, who had the best of reasons for discounting every-

tiling about hep* had no doubt in the matter. At the end of one of hexearliest public speeches lie described how her hearers were so moved that they shouted: “Vox Dianae! The voice of a goddess and not of a woman! God save the sweet face. Randolph, the English Ambassador, confessedly hostile to her, yet found prose inadequate to describe her perfections, and set them forth in a famous sonnet.

To begin with, Mary was “ divinely tall.” “How tall is your Queen?” Queen Elizabeth asked Sir James Melville, Mary’s Ambassador, at thenfamous interview. “ A little taller than vonr Majesty,” Melville replied. “Then she is too tall,” Elizabeth banteringly replied. “ for 1 am just the right ' height.” Mary’s complexion Ronsard likens to- “alabaster and ivory,” but this may have been a poet’s license; for, though eager to maintain his Queen’s supremacy, .Melville admitted that she was less “ white ” than Elizabeth. Her eyes Ronsard likens to “ stars,” and Chasteland to “ beacons.” It may have been because of the dazzling magic in them that some said one thing, some another; their actual colour was always disputed, opinions varied from dark grey to hazel. Again, the colour of her hair, which one might suppose could have been settled by a glance from any of her contemporaries, is even more disputed than that of her eyes. Elizabeth’s hair we know to have been golden, and when she inquried of Melville whether Mary’s hair was fairer than her own Melville replied that “ the fairness of them both was not their worst faults.” This reply, though somewhat cryptic, yet indicates that Mary’s hair was much the colour of Elizabeth’s. This is borne out also by Brantome and Ronsard, who rhapsodise about her “ wealth of golden hair.” On the other hand. Nicholas White, Cecil’s agent at the Scottish Court, writing to his master in 1568, tells him that the Queen is “ black-haired.” The truth seems to be that Mary’s natural hair was golden; but as at this time a fashion of wearing wigs came in Mary varied the colour of her hair to suit occasions. - This question of .the colour of her hair pursued the unfortunate Queen to the last moment of her life, for while one. witness of her execution declares that she wore golden ringlets, another describes them ais being black; both, however, agree that they were false, and that when at the headsman’s stroke they fell away from bethead “ she appeared as grey as if she liad been sixty and ten years old.” For the rest there is general agreement upon her oval-shaped face, her long but shapely Greek nose, her arched, wellmarked eyebrows, widely set apart, and her full, red lips. Her hands are described as being white and slender, with long, tapering fingers; and this is borne out by a number of the portraits. Add to all these a voice of such wonderful richness, softness, and sweetness that Knox asks in dismay: “ Was thair ever oratour that spack so properlie and so sweitlie?” And Ronsard declares: “ Its tones would move the very rocks and woods.”

SOME PORTRAITS. When, however, it comes to the portraits if is another story altogether. The late Mr Wylie Guild, of Glasgow, got together a remarkable collection of portraits and engravings, comprising not only reproductions of the paintings believed to be authentic, hut also more than -100 engravings, dating from Mary’s early years in France; and competent authorities who have examined them agree that not one among them indicates anything approaching that amazing beauty upon which all contemporaries were so unanimous. This is surely remarkable. For myself I like best ’ the Morton portrait, but I am hound to admit that a severe criticmight he justified in saying that the length of tlie nose and the slant of the eyes give to the face almost a “ foxy ” expression. -It is all very puzzling. It may lie that the artists were to blame, anci if it be argued that among so v many some must have been capable of good work it is still true that their methods were crude. The subject never reallysat for a portrait. The artist made a sketch and then took it away, filled it in, and coloured it from memory. But, all things considered, the conclusion to which one inclines is that Mary’s beauty consisted less in the regularity or classic mould of her features than in the radiance that glowed and Hashed through

them. Alter all, to produce the impression of beauty something more is needed than mere, classic regularity of features. It is possible to have these and yet be “ faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null.” Truly beauty springs from within ; it is a thing of the spirit which shines through the eyes, illuminating and irradiating every feature, and transforming the face from one degree of perfection to another. This- inner beauty Mary Stuart undoubtedly possessed in a superlative degree. If you acid to this her wide culture, her sparkling mirth and wit, the thrilling tones of her low, sweet voice, her ready understanding and sympathy, and, above all perhaps, the irresistible charm and mystery of one of the most elusive, fascinating, baffling personalities of all time, it will not be so difficult to understand bow it was that those with whom she had to do found it impossible to notice small defects in unimportant details when conrfonted with the glowing perfection of the whole, and hailed her as the loveliest woman of all time.