Chapter 62
1980
There was a knock at my door just as I’d started to pack my bags.
“Come in.”
Mrs MacPherson stood there with a letter in her hand. “I thought I’d bring this to you, Miss Hay. Is it tomorrow afternoon you leave?”
I nodded. “Yes, but I thought I’d start packing today.” I took the letter, presuming it would be from Mum, confirming the time for the pick-up, but it was Dr Birkett’s handwriting. Just when I’d almost given up hope of hearing from her.
“Thanks. See you later,” I said as she closed the door and I went to the desk to open the letter.
Hi Maggie, hope you’re doing okay and that you’ve managed to do lots of work as well as have a well-deserved break. Here’s the information you were after about that parure. Elspeth managed to find out some things I think you’ll find fascinating. I made a copy of her letter and enclose it here. Look forward to seeing you at start of term.
Jenny
Jenny? She’d never called herself that. It was always Dr Birkett to her students.
I unfolded the enclosed photocopy and began to read.
The Seton Parure
A gift from Mary, Queen of Scots to her friend and lady-in-waiting 300 Mary/Marie Seton in 1575, this set of necklace, earrings and brooch was then gifted to the wives of her nephew Alexander Seton, Lord Fyvie, later Earl of Dunfermline, in 1585 on the occasion of his marriage to Lilias Drummond.
It remained in the Seton family and was bequeathed in particular to Marie Seton, born in 1610, daughter of Alexander Seton and his third wife, Margaret Hay. Marie Seton then married into the Hay family by her marriage to John Hay, eighth Earl of Yester, nephew of Marie Seton’s mother.
Marie Seton had no children and so the parure remained at the Hay family seat, which was Yester Castle and is now Yester House in the Borders. Nothing was heard of it until the early 1890s when William Hay, the eleventh Marquess of Tweedale, discovered the parure hidden at the back of a safe in the muniments room of Yester House.
It was then sold at auction at Christie’s in February 1894 to Algernon Borthwick, Baron Glenesk, who gave it to his only daughter, Lilias. She became Countess Bathurst and as such, presented it to Queen Mary on the occasion of King George’s Silver Jubilee in May 1935. It has remained with the royal family ever since.
Here at the National Museum, we are already in talks with the Royal Household, advising them, as they begin to set up the Royal Collection Trust. The plan is that Holyrood Palace will display pieces in the royal family’s collection with a particular Scottish interest. It is therefore highly likely that, in the not too distant future, the parure will be on display at Holyrood Palace.
I stopped and let out a long breath. This was unbelievable. Margaret Hay’s daughter, who was named after Mary Seton, was given the parure and it left Fyvie Castle with her for the Borders. Then it was hidden away again for many years till it was discovered then sold at auction to this Baron whose only daughter was 301 called – I could hardly believe it – Lilias. And this Lilias presented it to the Queen who was called Mary.
I smiled. The parure had indeed come full circle. There was even a chance I might be able to see it once this collection was set up. I hadn’t felt happier in ages. I folded the letter away and continued my packing, for once looking forward to where my life was going next.
I sat outside the entrance on the gravel, waiting for Mum and Auntie Liz to arrive. My bags were still inside, as I wanted to be here to greet them. Hopefully they’d have time to come inside for a quick tour of the castle. All last night I’d been thinking of the parure and how those who truly appreciated it seemed to have been called Mary, Marie or Lilias. I was just considering how incredible it was that I might be able to see it for myself at Holyrood Palace when I heard a car on the drive. I got to my feet and looked down the slope towards the road.
It wasn’t Auntie Liz’s car, I was sure hers was red. This was black. It must be a visitor, not realising the castle was closed on Mondays. I continued to stare at it as it got nearer and then, with a sudden lurch, I realised it was Dad’s car. I watched as he parked it on the gravel and Mum got out and waved. I waved back but stood still, unsure what to do. Mum rushed straight over and gave me a hug then stood beside me as we both watched Dad shut the door and lock the car.
He came towards me and I saw that he was smiling. As he reached out both arms, I could feel tears begin to prick my eyes. He took me into his arms and I began to sob.
“Dad,” I stuttered, “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. In fact, I’m the 302 one who should apologise.”
He stood back and looked at me, smiled, then handed me his handkerchief.
“Now, let’s get you home.”