The murder of Mary, Queen of Scots’s secretary, and possibly lover, David Riccio, by her husband Darnley and his friends was a turning point in the Queen’s already turbulent affairs. This description of Riccio’s brutal death, when the Queen was heavily pregnant, comes from one of her most trusted counsellors, the diplomat and soldier Sir James Melville, who became page to Mary at the age of fourteen, and was later appointed privy councillor and a gentleman of the bedchamber. Most interesting is his portrait of Riccio and of Mary’s flagrant favouritism towards him, despite his advice to her to be more prudent.
Now there came here, with the ambassador of Scavoy, one David Riccio, from Piemont, who was a merry fellow and a good musician; and her Majesty had three valets of her chamber who sang three parts and wanted a bass to sing the fourth part; therefore they told her Majesty of this man who could be their fourth mate, and so he was brought to sing sometimes with the rest; and later, when his master the ambassador went back, he stayed in this country, and was kept in her Majesty’s service as a valet of her chamber.
And later, when her French secretary went back to France, this David obtained this post, and thereby got into a better position, and got her Majesty’s attention, sometimes in the presence of the nobility, and when there were great conventions of the estates, which caused him to be so envied and hated that some of the nobility would frown at him, and some of them would cold-shoulder him, and ignore him, when they came into the chamber, and found him always speaking with her Majesty.
Therefore, not without some fear, he complained to me about his situation, and asked my advice about how to behave. I told him, that strangers were often envied when they interfered too much in the affairs of foreign countries. I also said that it was thought that most of the business of the country passed through his hands, and advised him, when the nobility were present, to give them their place, and ask the Queen’s Majesty to be content with that. He did this, and later said to me that the Queen would not allow him to do this; but carried on using him in the old manner. Later, seeing the envy against the said David increase even further, and that by his ruin her Majesty would incur much displeasure, I took the opportunity to tell her what advice I had given to Seigneur David, as is outlined above. Her Majesty said that he did not interfere in any way except in her French writing and affairs, just as her other French secretary had done; and whoever found fault with this, she would not allow to carry out her ordinary duties. She thanked me for my continual care, and promised to take good care from then on, as was required.
The King, Darnley, probably gave his consent too easily to the slaughter of seigneur David, which the Lords of Morton, Ruthven, Lindsay and others had devised, so that they could be masters of the court and hold the parliament. The King was still very young, and not very experienced with the nature of this nation. It was also thought that the Earl of Lennox knew of the plan, for he had his chamber within the palace; and so had the Earls of Atholl, Bothwell, and Huntly, who both escaped by jumping out of a window, towards the little garden where the lines are encamped. This vile act was done upon a Saturday (9th) of March in the year 1565 [by the old Scots calendar] at around six o’clock.
When the Queen was at her supper in her room, a number of armed men entered within the courtyard before the closing of the gates, and took the keys from the porter. And some of them went up through the King’s chamber, led by the Lord Ruthven and George Douglas the postulate bishop; the rest remained in the courtyard with drawn swords in their hands, crying ‘a Douglas, a Douglas’ for their slogan; for it was in the gloaming of the evening.
The King had gone up to the Queen earlier, and was leaning upon her chair when the Lord Ruthven entered with his headpiece upon his head, and George the postulate came in with him and various others, so roughly and irreverently that the table fell, the candles and meat and plates fell. Seigneur David clutched the Queen about the waist, and cried for mercy; but George Douglas drew out the King’s dagger that was behind his back, and struck him first with it, leaving it sticking in him. He gave great screams and cries, and was roughly removed from the Queen, who could not get him safe, neither by threat or entreaty. He was forcibly dragged out of the room, and slain in the outer hall, and her Majesty kept as captive.
[modified version, see Appendix VII, p. 441]