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The Psalms in the vulgar tongue, the English Prayer-book version; metrical translations, Germany, France, England, Scotland; growth of the influence of the Psalms in the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries; Lady Jane Grey; the Duke of Suffolk; Counts Egmont and Horn; accession of Queen Elizabeth; the murder of Darnley; execution of Mary Queen of Scots; the Spanish Armada; the Turkey merchantmen; the wreck of the Tobie; the Earl of Essex;
Burghley; Lord Bacon; Shakespeare; Richard Hooker;
Bishop Jewel; George Herbert; Hooker on the Psalms.
THROUGHOUT the Middle Ages, the Bible as a whole was, except to the clergy, a sealed book. But the Psalms were permitted to be in the hands of laymen; the Council of Toulouse (1220) excepted them from the general prohibition which forbade the use of the Old Testament to the laity. Versions in Anglo-Norman, or Old English, are among the earliest specimens of our vernacular literature. The transla- tion and commentary of Richard Rolle of Hampole (circ. 1325) illustrate, on its spiritual side, one of the movements which led up to the Reformation. Mediaeval Primers contained a selection of the Psalms, sundry prayers, and a Kalendar in which were sometimes entered the births and deaths of families,* or the dates of events like the battles in the Wars of the Roses. Our Prayer-book version of the Psalter in prose, originally made by Tyndall and Coverdale, subse- quently corrected by Cranmer and his colleagues, was put forth in the Bishops' Bible of 1541. Its rhythmic movement preserves something of the cadenced and sonorous roll of the Latin version, and thus, by wedding English words to mediaeval harmonies, it links together old and new forms of divine worship. Translated into the vulgar tongue, the Psalms seemed to gather fresh youth and vigour. They gained their full power, answering every need, adapting themselves to all spiritual conditions. Now the stream of historical association, already broad and deep, becomes a flood, whose force and volume are swollen by metrical translations set to music, and sung by congregations at public worship.
The Psalms in Latin, as well as hymns and sequences in the' same tongue, had been consecrated by centuries of use in public worship. But they were chanted by priests or choristers,
and to the people they were for the most part unintelligible. Church hymns to be sung by the whole congregation in the vulgar tongue were the special creation of the Lutherans. To Luther the German people owed not only the catechism, and the Bible, translated into forcible, racy, idiomatic language, but also a hymn-book. Three of his best known hymns, " Ach Gott vom Himmel, sieh darein" (Ps. xii.; " Ah God, from heav'n look down, and see"), "Ein' feste Burg" (Ps. xlvi.), " Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir " (Ps. cxxx.: " Out of the depths I cry to Thee"), are founded on psalms. Burkhard Waldis of Hesse (1485-1557) versified the whole Psalter, and other Lutherans like Justus Jonas (" Wo Gott der Herr nicht bei uns halt," Ps. cxxiv.: " If God were not upon our side "), or Philip Nicolai (" Wie schon leuchtet der Morgenstem," Ps. xlv.: " 0 Morning Star! how fair and bright"), or Paul Gerhardt (" Ich, der ich oft in tiefes Leid," Ps. cxlv.: " I who so oft in deep distress"), followed Luther in basing their hymns on psalms. But their special contributions to divine worship were rather original hymns than metrical versions of the Psalter. The French Lutheran Church held the same views as their German brethren. But with other Reformed bodies, and especially with the followers of Calvin or Zwingli, it was different. Separating more entirely from the past, revolting from the human intervention of the priesthood in prayer or praise, worshipping the Bible as a new-found book, venerating its text with almost superstitious reverence, they rejected original hymns, treated the Hebrew Psalter as the only inspired manual of devotional praise, and concentrated their efforts on adapting its language to congregational singing. The Psalms, in metrical versions, thus gained new dignity, authority, and popularity, by their exclusive use in the public worship of the Reformed Churches. The more completely the Reformers severed themselves from the Middle Ages, the more absolutely they swept away the venerable liturgies and beautiful hymns of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, the greater was their reverence for the Psalms, which were the daily bread of the Roman Catholic clergy.
Early in the sixteenth century (1533), Clement Marot *, the favourite of Marguerite de Valois, and valet de chambre to Francis L, began to translate the Psalms into French verse, and his translations were circulated in manuscript throughout the King's Court. His sanctes chanson etfes, set to simple
1 Marot's version of Psalm vi. appeared in 1533, at the end of the first part of Le Miroir de treschrestienne Princesse Marguerite de France, Royne de Navarre . . . auquel die voit et son neant et son tout. Paris, 1533, i8mo. He did not continue the work till 1537, and it was not till 1542 that his Trente Pseaulnies de David, mis eh francoys par Clement Marot, valet de chambre du Roy were published.
ballad tunes, drove from the field the love-songs of gallants, and Marot's verses were sung by the princes and princesses, the royal mistresses, and the lords and ladies of the luxurious Courts of Francis I. and Henry II. The translation, completed partly by Marot, partly by Beza and others, passed into the hands of the people. In 1558, in the Pr6 aux Clercs at Paris, thousands of persons assembled every evening to chant the Psalms to the music of Louis Bourgeois, Guillaume Franc, and Claude Goudimel, and among the singers might be heard the King of Navarre, and the greatest nobles of France.
In England, in the reign of Henry VIII., Thomas Sternhold, <( groome of ye Kynges Majesties roobes," began to translate the Psalms "for his own godly solace." As a boy of twelve, so the story runs, Edward VI. heard the " groome " singing the Psalms to the organ, and expressed his delight at the words and the music. The first edition of Sternhold's Psalms, perhaps published in 1548, included nineteen translations. The third edition (1551) contained forty-four psalms, thirty- seven by Sternhold and seven by Hopkins. In dedicating the book to Edward VI., Sternhold says: <( Seeing that your tender and godlie zeale doth more delight in the holie songs ofveritie than in any faymed rymesofvanytie, I am encouraged to travayle further in the said booke of Psalms." To the versions of Sternhold and Hopkins, seven Psalms, translated by Whittingham, making fifty-one in all, were added in the Genevan edition of 1556. But the first complete version of the Psalter was published by Daye in 1562, and the renderings were the work of many hands. Another complete translation into verse was made by Matthew Parker, afterwards Arch- bishop of Canterbury. During the Marian persecutions, close search was made for him, and he only saved himself by flight. In one of his escapes, a fall from his horse probably laid the seeds of the disease from which he subsequently died. Yet he seems to have passed his time in contentment, cheered by the work on which he was engaged. On his birthday, August 6th, 1557, he wrote in his Diary: " I persist in the same constancy, upholden by the grace and goodness of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, by whose inspiration I have finished the Book of Psalms turned into vulgar verse." It was, how- ever, the composite work of Sternhold, Hopkins, Whittingham, Wisedome, William Kethe, John Craig, and others, which remained in general use from 1563 till 1698, when the old version was superseded in the Established Church by that of Tate and Brady.
To scholars and to critics the metrical translation often seems to be sheer doggerel; yet its popularity and its influence in extending a knowledge of the Psalms can hardly be exag- gerated. Fuller speaks of the versifiers as having drunk more of Jordan than of Helicon, and adds that two hammerers on
a smith's anvil would have made better music. Queen Eliza- beth condemned the new "Geneva jigs." Edward Phillips, the Cavalier poet, describes some one singing "with woful noise,"
" Like a crack'd saints' bell jarring in the steeple, Tom Sternhold's wretched prick-song for the people.'
The sound of psalm-singing, as he heard it issuing from a church, moved the Earl of Rochester to write the lines:
" Sternhold and Hopkins had great aualms, When they translated David's Psalms,
To make the heart right glad:
But had it been King David's fate To hear thee sing and them translate
By God! 'twould set him mad ! "
Yet, in spite of the judgment of fastidious taste, the version was so popular that, after the regular services, as Bishop Jewel notes, six thousand persons, old and young of both sexes, might be heard chanting the Psalms in metre at Paul's Cross. Mrs Ford1 imagined that the iooth Psalm would not agree with the tune of <( Green sleeves." But the " grand old Puritan anthem2," "All people that on earth do dwell," com- posed by William Kethe, a friend of John Knox, and set to the music of Louis Bourgeois, survives all the changes of thought or fashion that the progress of four centuries has witnessed.
In Scotland it had been the ambition of James I. to reunite once more the offices of king and psalmist. But though his version, to which he is said to have contributed thirty psalms, was sanctioned by Charles I. in 1634, it was never accepted by the Scottish people. They clung to the book introduced by Knox from Geneva, in which renderings by Kethe, Craig, and others, were substituted for some of those contained in Stern- hold's Psalter. Printed in 1564, it had been the psalm-book of the Scottish Reformers. But in 1650 the General Assembly adopted, with many variations, the version of Francis Rous, an English Puritan, M.P. for Truro, ultimately Speaker of the Barebones Parliament, and Provost of Eton College. In no other country, except France, have metrical paraphrases of the Psalms exercised a greater influence than in Scotland. The Lutherans and the Anglicans had their hymns; but it was many years before any religious music was sung by Calvinist or Presbyterian except the Psalms of David.
From the treasure-house of the Psalter, whether in the ancient Latin version, or in vernacular prose, or in rough rhyme wedded to simple music, Roman Catholics and Protes-
1 " Merry Wives of Windsor," Act II., scene i.
2 Longfellow:.((Courtship of Miles Standish," Canto iii., 1.40.
tants alike drew inspiration. The Psalms clave to the memories, and rooted themselves in the hearts of the people. But the application of their language to the conduct and actions of individuals of every shade of religious opinion, does not exhaust the value of the Psalter. There remains its collective influence when employed in common worship. Whatever changes were made in forms of services, the Psalms retained their place. The general use of the same book united men who, in character and feeling, time and place, race and language, were widely separated. It is to this aspect of the subject that Hooker refers, in commenting upon the words, "We took sweet counsel together; and walked in the house of God as friends" (Ps. lv., verse 15). If, he argues, community of worship forges the chains of human love, then assuredly, true religious feeling is fostered and strengthened in all those between whom, in the hearing of God Himself, and in the presence of His holy angels, are interchanged " songs of comfort, psalms of praise and thanks- giving."
Apart from the extension of printing, or vernacular ver- sions, or congregational use, there were circumstances in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries which specially favoured the growth of the influence of the Psalms. The proscribed Protestant Reformer, the tortured Roman Catholic, the hunted Huguenot or Covenanter, the persecuted Cevenol, beheld himself in David fleeing to the mountains as a bird to the hills, betrayed by his own familiar friend, or plunged in the mire and clay of a prison from which death was his release. In the strength of the Psalms, martyrs went to the stake, mounted the scaffold, or endured the rack. Men, women, and children, dragged to gaol, sang psalms along the road, and, as in the days of Paul and Silas, dungeons resounded with earnest praise of God, clothed in the sublime yet familiar language of the Psalmist. Or, again, for the evil was ever blended with the good, it was with the words of the Psalmist that fanatics denounced their foes, cursed them with the awful imprecations pronounced on the divine enemies, excused their own barbarities, and appropriated to themselves, in the presumption of personal election, the promises made, and the mission given, to the chosen people of God. It was, for example, with Ps. cxlix. that Thomas Mlintzer stirred up the German peasants to revolt, and that Caspar Schopp, whose Classicum Belli Sacri is written in blood, incited the Roman Catholic princes to embark in the war that for thirty years convulsed Europe. In the struggle between Catholics and Protestants, were linked the destinies of nations, the fate of dynasties, the fortunes of illustrious statesmen and famous captains. When men of obscure birth and humble station gave up their lives for conscience' sake, their sacrifice derives
io8 STRUGGLE BETWEEN ENGLAND AND SPAIN
pathos and effectiveness from their weakness in the presence of temporal power. But, on the other hand, in dramatic impressiveness the historical grandeur of such a spectacle is often enhanced by the fame of the actors, the importance ot the issue, or the magnificence of the stage.
The long struggle between Protestant England and Catholic Spain practically opened with Monday, July loth, 1553. On that day, at three o'clock in the afternoon. Lady Jane Dudley was brought in state from Richmond to the Tower. In the midst of a "shot of gunnes and chamburs," such as was rarely heard before, she landed at the broad stairs, a great company of nobles and gentry with her, and her mother, the Duchess of Suffolk, bearing her train. The same evening, between six and seven o'clock, from the " Crosse in Chepe" to " Fletstreet," three heralds and a trumpeter proclaimed the Lady Jane Queen of England.
But the friends of the House of Grey were few, and the loyal supporters of the legitimate heir were many. Even at Jane's proclamation "few or none sayd God save hare." Nine days later, for she was barely even a "twelfth-day queen," her father entered her room at the Tower, and with his own hands tore down the canopy under which she sat. Her brief reign was over. Suffolk himself had that day proclaimed Mary Queen of England at the gates of the Tower. Lady Jane received with simple pleasure the news that the crown was no longer hers, only asking, in the innocence of her heart, if she might not now go home. Her palace had become her prison.
Prisoner though she was, and in November formally ar- raigned for treason and condemned to death, her life was saved for a time. All the arguments of Renard, the ambassa- dor of Charles V., failed to shake Mary's resolution to spare her fallen rival and cousin. The dangerous insurrection of Sir Thomas Wyatt, in which the Duke of Suffolk had joined, sealed Jane's fate. On Ash-Wednesday, February 7th, 1554, the rebellion was quelled. On Thursday, while the Te Deum for the Queen's victory was sung in every church, and the bells rang from every steeple in London, Feckenham, a gentle, pious old man, afterwards the last Abbot of West- minster, was sent to tell Lady Jane that she must die the following day, and to prepare her for her end by bringing her, if possible, to the Roman faith. A brief reprieve was afterwards granted, in order that Feckenham might have more time to effect her conversion. On Monday, February i2th, 1554, she was to go to the scaffold.
Lady Jane's time on earth was too short for theological discussion. Out of courtesy to Feckenham, she defended her Protestant opinions. But her few remaining hours were chiefly spent in writing to her father, bidding him not to
reproach himself for her death, and exhorting him to remain firm in his religion. To "Master Harding," formerly chaplain to the Duke of Suffolk, "but now fallen from the truth of God's most Holy Word," she wrote an appeal, couched in vehement language of reproach for his apostasy. She urged him to lay to heart "the saying of David, in his hundred and fourth Psalm (Ps. civ., verses 29, 30), where he said thus:
'When Thou takest away Thy Spirit, 0 Lord, from men, they die, and are turned again to their dust; but when Thou lettest Thy breath go forth, they shall be made, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.' 'Viriliter age,' she adds, 'confortetur cor tuum, sustine Dominum' (Ps. xxvii., verse 16). Fight manfully, come life, come death; the Quarrel is God's, and undoubtedly the victory is ours." To her sister, Lady Katharine, she sent her New Testament, urging her to "desire with David to understand the law of the Lord God."
Her husband was condemned to die on the same day. He begged for a last interview and a last embrace. Jane refused. The meeting could only increase their trial, and disturb their preparation for death. In the other world they would meet soon enough. Yet she saw her husband twice. Her place of imprisonment was in "Partrige's house," traditionally the Brick Tower, on the north-east side of the fortress. Lord Guildford Dudley was taken out of the Tower, "about ten of the clocke, to the scaffolde on Tower Hill." The procession passed under her window, from which she thus once more saw him alive. She saw him yet again. His body was thrown into a cart, the head being wrapped in a cloth, and carried back to "the chappell within the Tower, wher the Lady Jane dyd see his dead carcase taken out of the cart, as well as she dyd see him before on lyve going to his deathe-a sight to hir no lesse than death."
But the sight did not shake her own firm resolution. The scaffold on which
she was to die, was prepared "upon the grene over against the White Tower." She
was led forth from the prison by the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir John Brydges,
wearing the same dress in which she had been, in the previous November,
conducted on foot, the axe borne before her, to be arraigned for treason at the
Guildhall. In her hand she carried a book, from which she prayed until she came
to the foot of the scaffold. Her countenance was steadfast, her eyes not even
"moistened with teares, although her ij gentlewomen, Mistress Elizabeth Tyiney
and Mistress Eleyn, wonderfully wept." At the foot of the scaffold, she
dismissed Feckenham with kindly words. Mounting the steps, she spoke to the
people, acknowledging that her acts had been unlawful; " but touching the
procurement and desyre thereof by me or on my behaife, I doo 'wash my
handes
thereof in innocencie,' before God, and the face of you, good Christian people, this day;" and therewith, "she wrong her handes, in which she had hir boke."
Then, kneeling down, she turned to Feckenham, who had followed her to the scaffold, saying, " Shall I say this Psalm ? " He answered, "Yea." So she said the Miserere (Ps. li.) in English to the end. The psalm ended, she stood up, and gave her gloves and handkerchief to her maiden. Mistress Tyiney, and her book to Master Brydges, brother to the Lieutenant of the Tower. The book is the small manual of prayers on vellum which is preserved in the British Museum.
With the help of her two gentlewomen, she untied and put off her gown, laid aside her head-dress and neckerchief, and took from them "a fayre handkercher to knytte about her eyes. Then the hangman kneeled downe, and asked her for- givenesse, whome she forgave most willingly. Then he willed her to stand upon the strawe; which doing, she sawe the block. Then she sayd, ' I pray you dispatch me quickly.' Then she kneeled downe, saying, ' Will you take it off before I lay me downe ?' and the hangman answered her, ' No, madame.' She tied the kercher about her eyes: then feeling for the blocke, saide, ' What shall I do ? Where is it ? ' One of the standers-by guyding her therunto, she layde her heade downe upon the block, and stretched forth her body, and said, (Lorde, into Thy hands I commende my spirite!' And so she ended."
In the short time between her sentence and her death. Lady Jane Dudley had been haunted by the fear that her father might fall from the Protestant faith. Her dread proved groundless. The Duke of Suffolk was beheaded at Tower Hill, on February 23rd, 1554, resisting all efforts to turn him from his religion. That reparation, at least, he could make to the daughter whom his ambition had destroyed. His own remorse, her appeal, her constancy, and her example gave him a courage which scarcely belonged to the weakness of his character. He died with the same psalms upon his lips. " Then the Duke," says Fox, " kneeled down upon his knees, and said the Psalm ' Miserere mei, Deus ' unto the end, hold- ing up his hands and looking up to heaven. And when he had ended the psalm, he said ' In manus tuas, Domine, com- mendo spiritum meum,' " etc. His head fell at the first blow of the axe.
The execution of Lady Jane Dudley established for a time the triumph of Spain, and, with it, the victory of authority over freedom. So long as Queen Mary lived, and Philip was at her side, no effort should be spared to bring back England to the Roman Catholic faith. At her death, the same policy was to be pursued by different means, but with the same resolution. Another scene brings before us, on another stage,
the working of the same policy, directed by the same hand and will.
Slow in the execution of his purpose, but inflexibly tenacious of his end, Philip set himself to crush the Netherlands and extirpate the pestilent heresy. The Duke of Alva was his instrument. In 1567, the duke as governor-general, entered on his task, at the head of a Spanish army. The Reign of Terror began. Within the space of three months, the Council of Troubles, better known as the Council of Blood, had put to death eighteen hundred human beings. Among its later victims were Lamoral, Count of Egmont and Prince of Gavre, and his friend. Count Horn.
On the 22nd of August, 1567, Egmont rode out from Brussels to meet the governor-general. Passing his arm lovingly round his neck, Alva talked with him in friendly fashion as he was escorted to the house of Madame de Jasse, where the governor was lodged. In spite of friendly warnings, again and again reiterated, Egmont believed in the duke's honour. His con- fidence inspired Horn with a sense of the same security, and he joined Egmont at Brussels to show respect to the king's representative. On September gth, the blow fell. Egmont and Horn were arrested, and under a strong guard conveyed to Ghent. They scarcely had even the mockery of a trial. On June 2nd, 1568, the sentence of death was passed upon the two nobles by the Council of Blood. The same day, the prisoners, in separate carriages, guarded by hundreds of soldiers, were conveyed to the Brod-huys in the great square at Brussels.
Late on the evening of the 4th of June, Alva sent for the Bishop of Ypres, and charged him to prepare the prisoners for death on the following day. The bishop implored for mercy, or at least delay. The only answer he received was the rebuke, that he had been summoned to confess the criminals, not to advise the governor. The rumour of the sentence quickly spread. The Countess of Egmont heard it, and hurried to the presence of the duke. On her knees she begged for her husband's life. " On the morrow," was the ironical reply, "your husband is certain to be released."
It was not till eleven o'clock at night, that the bishop reached the chamber on the second storey of the Brod-huys, where Egmont was confined. The count heard his sentence with surprise rather than with flinching. " Since," hesaid, " my death is the will of God and His Majesty, I will try to meet it with patience." He had but a few hours to live. The bishop exhorted him to withdraw himself from all earthly interests, and turn his thoughts only to God. Kneeling at his feet, Egmont confessed, and received the Sacrament. Then nature reasserted itself, as he thought on his wife and children. " Alas!" he exclaimed, " how weak and frail is our human
nature. When we would think only of God, the images of wife and children come between." His loss of self-control was but momentary. Recovering his calmness, he sat down and wrote to the king, as the day began to dawn on which he was to die. "Although," he wrote "I have never had a thought, and believe myself never to have done a deed, which could tend to the prejudice of Your Majesty's person or service, or to the detriment of our true, ancient, and Catholic religion, nevertheless I take patience to bear that which it has pleased the good God to send." " I pray Your Majesty," he concluded, to forgive me, and to have compassion on my poor wife, my children, and my servants, having regard to my past services. In which I hope I now commend myself to the mercy of God.
" Ready to die, this 5th June, 1568. Your Majesty's very humble and loyal vassal and servant,
Then, with his own hands, he cut the collar from his doublet and his shirt, that the hangman might not defile him with his touch. The rest of the twilight hours were spent in prayer and meditation.
The scaffold was raised in the centre of the famous Grande Place of Brussels, the scene of many a brilliant tournament and cruel execution. Opposite to the Brod-huys stands the magnificent Town Hall, and on either side of the space rise the picturesque mediaeval guild-houses of the butchers, brewers, archers, tailors, and carpenters. On the morning of the 5th of June, 1568, the bells tolled from the churches;
gloom hung over the city, as though, to use the language of a contemporary, "the day of judgment were at hand." The roofs, the balconies, the windows, that looked upon the square, were thronged with spectators. Strong bodies of arquebusiers guarded the avenues that led to the Place. Three thousand Spanish troops, some of whom had doubtless followed Egmont in his brilliant feats of arms at St Quentin and Gravelines, were massed round a scaffold, draped with black cloth. In its folds was concealed the executioner. Upon the scaffold itself, were placed two velvet cushions, and a small table bearing a crucifix. At the corners rose two poles, spiked with steel points. Immediately below the scaffold, motionless on his horse, sat the Provost Marshal, holding in his hand his red wand of office.
At eleven o'clock, Egmont, with the bishop at his side, walked with steady step along the platform which led from the balcony of the Brod-huys to the scaffold. As he made his way to the block, he repeated aloud portions of the 5ist Psalm. With one vain wish that he had been allowed to die in the service of king and country, he knelt down on one of the cushions and prayed aloud. Then, after repeatedly kissing
the crucifix, and receiving absolution at the hands of the bishop, he rose to his feet. Stripping off his mantle and robe, he again knelt down, drew a silk cap over his eyes, and, repeating the words, " Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit " (Ps. xxxi. verse 6), awaited the stroke of the execu- tioner. His head, which was severed from the body at a single blow, was set on one of the spikes, and a cloak thrown over the mutilated trunk.
A few minutes later, Count Horn was led to the scaffold. He died with the same courage, and with the same words on his lips. On the pole opposite that of Egmont, his head was fixed. With these executions began the revolt of the Netherlands.
In England, the struggle of Protestantism against Spain and Roman Catholicism centred round the rivalry of two women. On the death of Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth, relieved from constant dread of execution, had expressed her gratitude in the words of Ps. cxviii., verse 23, " This is the Lord's doing;
and it is marvellous in our eyes." The Latin text was the stamp of her gold, as another quotation adapted from the Psalms- Posui Deum adjutorem meurp. ("Thou art my helper ... 0 my God," Ps. xl., verse 21), was the stamp of her silver. Her love of the Psalter is further shown by her version of Ps. xiv., beginning-
" Fooles, that true fayth yet never had, Sayth in their hartes, there is no God ! Fylthy they are in their practyse, Of them not one is godly wyse."
But though she ruled as few have ever done in the hearts of her people, her throne, and all that was implied in its stability, were insecure so long as Mary, Queen of Scots, was her heir and the pivot of religious and political intrigues. On the character of Mary, Queen of Scots, historians will never cease to dispute, and her share in the murder of Darnley is a subject on which they are still divided.