Mary Stuart by Stefan Zweig Page A

feelings to a woman who had no such feelings at all. Indeed, these sentiments were only unearthed some centuries after Mary’s death! The princes of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries—with the possible exception of Mary’s great rival Elizabeth—were not in the habit of considering their peoples, but aimed solely at acquiring personal power. Kingdoms were stitched together and rent asunder as though they had been clothes; states were formed by wars and marriages, and not by any self-determination on the part of the nations concerned. No sentimental motive influenced the creation of such realms. Mary in her day was quite prepared to exchange Scotland’s crown for a Spanish, an English, a French or any other available one; no qualm would have assailed her conscience as to the honourability of her conduct in the matter, no tear would have dimmed her eye as she bade farewell to the woods and lakes and romantic castles of her homeland, for her impassioned ambition had led her invariably to look upon her Scottish throne as no more than a jumping-off place to higher and better awards. She knew that by inheritance she had been called to the position of ruler, that her beauty and breeding and culture made her worthy to occupy any throne in Europe; and just as other women of her tender years are wont to dream of immeasurable love, so did she dream but one dream—the dream of immeasurable power.
    It was for these reasons that she left the responsibility of government in Moray’s and in Lethington’s hands, without feeling any jealousy or resentment, and without any interested participation. She allowed the two men to do what they thought wise and advantageous for the country without let or hindrance from her. What did she care about the destinies of this pitiful little realm, she who had so long worn a crown and had so early learnt to expect the acknowledgment of her royal majesty? Among the hundreds of letters she left behind we hardly find a reference to the welfare of her subjects, or a mention of Scotland’s rise to a higher position among the world powers. In this she differed notably from her neighbour Elizabeth, who was constantly and earnestly occupied with ways and means for raising her beloved England’s status. The administration of her possessions, their aggrandisement, their improvement (one of the most important points in the sphere of politics), did not occupy Mary Stuart’s mind. She could defend what was hers, but she could not make it secure. Only when her rights were threatened, when her pride was challenged, only when an alien will set itself up in opposition to her own, would she awaken, combative and irate. Only in supreme moments did this woman prove great and dangerous; at other times she remained an average woman, showing nothing but indifference to what went on around her.
    During this comparatively peaceful time, the enmity of her English rival was in abeyance; for whenever the impetuous heart of Mary Queen of Scots was beating tranquilly for a space, Elizabeth too was quiescent. One of the most conspicuous political merits of the daughter of the Tudors was her realism, her willingness to face facts, her disinclination to resist the inevitable. She had done everything in her power to prevent the return of Mary Stuart to Scotland. Now, when the return had taken place, Elizabeth would not waste energy in fighting against actualities, preferring to live on amicable terms so long as she could not sweep her cousin out of her path. One of the strongest positive qualities of Elizabeth’s wayward and arbitrary character was that, from motives of prudence and economy, she had a dislike for war, was averse to forcible measures and irrevocable decisions. Her calculating mind made her seek to gain her ends by negotiation. As soon as it was certain that Mary would return to Scotland, James Stuart urged Elizabeth, in moving terms, to enter into an honest friendship with her