19th August 2016
The skull of Mary Queen of Scots' second husband Lord Darnley has been identified out of two possible candidates, and a facial reconstruction produced – despite the skull being destroyed in the Blitz. Pictures and measurements remain, which Emma Price, a master's student, used to produce an accurate model. The facial reconstruction from it does look like Darnley's portraits. The other possible skull which is in the University of Edinburgh, however, she concluded definitely isn't Darnley's as it doesn't match his portraits. Of course this makes me wonder who it really belonged to. It's wonderful that things like this keep being studied, there's still so much research to do!
Darnley was Margaret Tudor's grandson. I write about Margaret Tudor in my new book Three Sisters, Three Queens, and about the birth of her daughter Margaret Douglas at Harbottle after fleeing Scotland. Margaret Douglas went on to have Henry Darnley and his wife and half-cousin Mary Queen of Scots was also Margaret Tudor's grandchild, by her first marriage to James IV. The two were the parents of James VI and I, Margaret's great-grandson twice over, the first monarch of both England and Scotland. But the marriage itself was fairly disastrous – Darnley was drunken, murdered his pregnant wife's secretary, and was murdered himself less than two years after the wedding. Here's a quote on him from my novel The Other Queen:
‘You cannot have thought that Darnley . . .’
She chokes on an irresistible giggle. ‘No! Not now! I should have known at once. But he had a claim to the English throne, he swore that Elizabeth would support him if we ever needed help. Our children would be undeniable heirs of England from both his side and mine; they would unify England and Scotland. And once I was married I would be safe from attack. I could not see otherwise how to protect my own honour. He had supporters at my court when he first arrived, though later, they turned against him and hated him. My own half-brother urged the marriage on me. And yes – I was foolishly mistaken in him. He was handsome and young and everyone liked him. He was charming and pretty-mannered. He treated me with such courtesy that for a moment it was like being back in France. I thought he would make a good king. I judged, like a girl, on appearances. He was such a fine-looking young man, he was a prince in his bearing. There was no-one else I would have considered. He was practically the only man I met who washed!’