Why Scotland's most capable queen may be buried under Waverley Station

Today’s John Lewis wedding gift registry won’t feature giant cannons, but in 1447 Duke Philip of Burgundy thought it a perfect present for his beloved niece, Mary of Guelders. She was marrying Scotland’s James II, and the Burgundians made sure their girl arrived in style. Fourteen ships brought the bride across, loaded with money, clothes and cutting-edge ordinance, including that formidable castle-smashing bombard, now known as Mons Meg.

Mary was about 16. Her actual birthdate is unclear. James was 18. Her new husband was nicknamed ‘Fiery Face’, on account of a red birthmark on his cheek. Some saw this as an outward sign of a fearsome temper. They were partly right.

James was a touch trigger-happy. Well, his father had been assassinated, his mother assaulted and once, whilst entertaining guests at Edinburgh Castle, someone threw a black bull’s head on the table, hauled off 16-year-old William Douglas and his brother, 12-year-old David, then butchered them in the courtyard. Enough to make anyone jumpy. 

Mary and James were wed on the July 3, 1449 at Holyrood. The marriage produced children, and quickly. Sadly, the first child died very soon after birth, but more followed, including the crucial heir, the future James III.

Fiery Face was not a bad king, to begin with. He did stab William Douglas, 8th Earl of Douglas 26 times before throwing him out a window, but aside from these homicidal tendencies, he ruled fairly well. His queen was popular, too, with many acts of charity and piety to her name.

A fatal interest in big guns

James loved new tech, especially those Burgundian guns. He wasted no time hauling them around Scotland to ram home the message that he was king. Roxburgh Castle was a particular thorn in his side. He pulled up his artillery under the battlements, and fired. A cannon exploded. He was standing too close. Hot metal slashed through his thigh. No one could stem the blood. He was probably dead in minutes.

King James II of Scotland (1430-1460) pictured in about 1455 (Picture: Hulton Archive) | Getty Images

Mary of Guelders had joined that rare and unsought club, the Stewart Widows, those Scottish queens left alone when their King James died young, leaving them to hold a throne for an infant king. Queen Mary moved with stunning speed. She seized physical control of her son before any competing interests could get their hands on the lad. They arrived at Roxburgh Castle only five days after her husband’s death. Mother and son watched the guns obliterate the walls.

Mary and James raced to Kelso Abbey for his coronation – Scone would have been too risky. The point was to get that crown on that head and make this eight-year-old boy king. Mission accomplished, next was to cement her position as regent. Nobles loyal to the new regime found themselves holding the keys to vitally strategic castles such as Edinburgh, Stirling and Dunbar. Parliament endorsed her claim to rule.

Bloodiest battle on English soil

Mary was regent and, for Scotland, things were reasonably quiet. She may even have drawn a relieved breath. Too soon. Trouble came from south of the Border. England was in the chaos known as “The Cousins War”, until Sir Walter Scott rebranded it “The Wars of The Roses”. 

Lancastrian forces loyal to Henry VI faced Edward IV’s Yorkist Army at Towton in 1461, the bloodiest battle on English soil. Approximately 55,000 men fought over two days in blinding snowstorms and howling winds. York crushed Lancaster. Henry’s energetic queen, Margaret of Anjou, Shakespeare’s ‘she-wolf’, gathered up her doddery husband and their son and fled north to throw themselves on the mercy of Mary, Queen Regent of Scotland.

It's easy to imagine Mary rolling her eyes. Her husband had died only the year before. In the middle of her grief, she had had to seize the throne, secure her son’s future, slap down any dissenting nobles and bring Scotland under control. And now she’s got some refugee royals from next door looking for sanctuary and assistance.

They got it. At a price. Henry was discreetly parked in a monastery whilst Mary and Margaret negotiated. Mary appeared to favour the Lancastrian cause, and offered military support. All she wanted in return was the wealthy trading port of Berwick-upon-Tweed, lost to Scotland for over a century.

Berwick returned to Scotland

What Mary wanted, Mary got. Margaret of Anjou turned the town over without a fight. Scottish kings spilled blood trying to regain Berwick. Mary of Guelders did it with diplomacy. Her forces wasted no time seizing the port.

Mary wasted even less time sending an envoy to make a deal with the Yorkist Edward IV. She had no intention of Scotland being dragged into England’s internecine bin fire.

Sadly, her success created enemies. There were men in the Scottish court who thought they could do a better job than a woman, even this one. She lost control of her son to James Kennedy, Bishop of St Andrews. He was keen to support Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou.

Queen under platform nine?

Despite Mary’s best efforts, men and money were squandered on the lost Lancastrian cause until a treaty eventually brokered at York ended Scottish interference in the Wars of The Roses, proving Mary right all along. 

She didn’t see the peace treaty. Mary, Queen Regent of Scotland, died on December 1, 1463. She was only about 33.  She was one of Scotland’s most capable rulers, and deserves to be better known, but we aren’t even sure where she is buried.

At first, she lay in her own Trinity Collegiate Church, Edinburgh, but in 1848, the Victorians literally shoved the church to one side to build Waverley Station. During the construction, a skeleton was discovered and re-interred at Holyrood, but not everyone is sure that it was Mary. 

This powerhouse of a woman might well lie under those station platforms.