Produced by MWS, Linda Cantoni, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)









[Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer errors have been corrected
without note; inconsistent and archaic spellings in quoted material
have been retained as they appear in the original.]




The Tragedy of Fotheringay

[Illustration: _Walker & Boutall, Ph. Sc._

  _Mary Queen of Scots,
  from the Memorial Portrait
  in the possession of the Trustees of Blairs College, Aberdeen._]




The

Tragedy of Fotheringay

FOUNDED ON

  THE JOURNAL OF D. BOURGOING,
  PHYSICIAN TO MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, AND
  ON UNPUBLISHED MS. DOCUMENTS


BY THE

  HON. MRS. MAXWELL SCOTT
  OF ABBOTSFORD


  LONDON
  ADAM & CHARLES BLACK
  1895




PREFACE


In compiling this book, my original intention was to deal
with the material afforded by Bourgoing's Journal, supplemented by
the Letters of Sir Amyas Paulet. Both narrate the events of the last
few months of Queen Mary's prison life, the details of which have
been hitherto little known. As time went on, however, and further new
and valuable matter was offered to me by the kindness of friends,
the scope of the work gradually expanded. Many details regarding the
Queen's execution and burial have been added, and I feel that some
apology is due for possible repetitions and other errors of style
which almost necessarily follow such a change of plan. Many of the
illustrative notes regarding Queen Mary's last moments are culled
from original contemporary accounts of the execution, for the use of
which I am indebted to the kindness of the Rev. Joseph Stevenson,
S.J., LL.D. Some of these narratives are printed in the Appendix in
their entirety. The valuable collection of the Calthorpe MSS. has
furnished many interesting details, and I am especially indebted to
the courtesy of the present Lord Calthorpe for permission to publish
the two curious contemporary drawings of the trial and execution. The
value of these drawings is materially increased by the annotations in
Beale's handwriting. To him we owe several of the most interesting
notes regarding the execution, etc., and the knowledge that these
MSS. have come down to us under the direct guardianship of Beale's
descendants lends additional value to their testimony.

Robert Beale, whose name occurs so frequently in my narrative,
had long been employed in a subordinate position by Elizabeth's
Government, and in 1576 was sent by the Privy Council on an embassy
to the Prince of Orange. He was later appointed Clerk of Council to
the Queen, the office in which he comes before us at the time of
Queen Mary's trial and death, and his daughter Margaret married Sir
Henry Yelverton, Attorney-General, the ancestor of the Calthorpe
family, who thus became the possessors of the documents I have
referred to.

The frontispiece, taken from what is known as the Blairs portrait of
Queen Mary, has its own pedigree of unusual interest, although it
cannot claim to be an original portrait. The following description
of this picture is taken from the pen of the Right Rev. Bishop Kyle,
Vicar Apostolic of the Northern district of Scotland:--

     This large picture of Queen Mary belonged once to Mrs.
     Elizabeth Curle, wife and widow of Gilbert Curle, one
     of the Queen's secretaries during the last years of her
     life and at her death. Mrs. Curle herself was one of the
     attendants at her execution. When, and by whom it was
     painted, I have never learned. The attire and attitude
     of the principal figure being the same in which it is
     said Mary appeared on the scaffold, seem to testify
     decisively that the picture is not what can be called an
     original--that is traced from the living subject under
     the painter's eye. The adjuncts were evidently added by
     another and an inferior artist, but when, I have no means
     of knowing. Mrs. Curle survived her mistress long, at
     least thirty years. She had two sons, who both became
     Jesuits. Of one, John, there is little known. He died in
     Spain. The other, Hyppolytus, was long Superior, and a
     great benefactor of the Scotch College of Douai. To that
     College he bequeathed the property, not inconsiderable,
     which he derived from his mother, and among the rest the
     very picture now at Blairs. The picture remained in that
     College (Douai) till the French Revolution. At the wreck of
     the College it was taken from its frame, and being rolled
     up was concealed in a chimney, the fireplace of which was
     built up, and was so preserved. After the peace of 1815
     it was taken from its place of concealment and conveyed
     first to Paris, but ultimately to Scotland, through the
     late Bishop Paterson and the Reverend John Farquharson,
     who being the latter Principal, the former Prefect of
     Studies in the Douai College at the time of the Revolution,
     identified it as the picture that had been kept there
     according to the tradition mentioned above.[1]--(From
     _Annals of Lower Deeside_, John A. Henderson.)

[Footnote 1: The late Rev. Charles Gordon (well known in Aberdeen
as Priest Gordon, having been in charge of the Roman Catholic
Congregation for sixty years), then a student in the College,
assisted in concealing the picture.]

In the background of this picture the execution of the Queen at
Fotheringay is represented, along with the portraits of Jane Kennedy
and Elizabeth Curle, the two maids of honour who were present on
the sad occasion. The royal arms of Scotland are painted on the
right-hand corner of the picture, and there are three inscriptions in
Latin, the translations of which are as follow:--

     1. Mary Queen of Scotland, Dowager Queen of France, truly
     legitimate Sovereign of the Kingdoms of England and
     Ireland, mother of James, King of Great Britain, oppressed
     by her own Subjects in the year 1568, with the Hope and
     Expectation of Aid promised by her Cousin Elizabeth,
     reigning in England, went thither, and there, contrary
     to the Law of Nations and the Faith of a Promise, being
     retained Captive after 19 years of Imprisonment on Account
     of Religion by the Perfidy of the same Elizabeth and the
     Cruelty of the English Parliament, the horrible Sentence
     of Decapitation being passed upon her, is delivered up to
     Death, and on the 12th of the Kalends of March--such an
     Example being unheard of--she is beheaded by a vile and
     abject Executioner in the 45th year of her Age and Reign.

     2. In the Presence of the Commissioners and Ministers of
     Queen Elizabeth, the Executioner strikes with his Axe
     the most serene Queen, the Daughter, Wife, and Mother of
     Kings, and after a first and second Blow, by which she was
     barbarously wounded, at the third cuts off her Head.

     3. While she lived the chief Parent and Foundress of the
     Scotch College, thus the once most flourishing Queen
     of France and Scotland ascends the fatal Scaffold with
     unconquered but pious mind, upbraids Tyranny and Perfidy,
     professes the Catholic Faith, and publicly and plainly
     professes that she always was and is a Daughter of the
     Roman Church.

The reliquary containing a portrait of Queen Mary, of which Lady
Milford kindly allows me to publish the photograph for the first
time, is very interesting, and the date can be fixed as being _not
later_ than 1622, but unfortunately the history of the medallion is
little known.[2] It was originally in the possession of the Darrell
family, and as a Darrell was appointed to be Queen Mary's steward
during her captivity, and a Marmaduke Darrell (presumably the same
person) attended the funeral at Peterborough, I would fain see a
connection between him and the miniature, but so far I have found no
proof of this.

[Footnote 2: For list of relics contained in the reliquary see
Appendix, p. 272.]

The two contemporary drawings of Queen Mary's trial and execution
from the Calthorpe MSS. are now also published for the first
time. The lists of spectators written by Beale are of particular
interest, and it is curious to compare the drawings of the trial with
Bourgoing's description of the scene (see p. xiii.) and with that
given in Appendix, p. 270.

In conclusion, I earnestly desire to express my grateful thanks for
the constant and valuable help and encouragement given to me by the
Rev. Joseph Stevenson, S.J., LL.D., to whose kindness I owe so much;
to Mr. Leonard Lindsay, F.S.A., and to other kind friends.

M.M. MAXWELL SCOTT.

_8th February 1895._[3]

[Footnote 3: Soon after these words were written my valued friend
Father Stevenson was taken from us. He died on the evening of 8th
February, the same day on which Queen Mary, whose honour he had done
so much to maintain, suffered death, and I by a further coincidence
finished the writing of this book.]




CONTENTS


  CHAP.                                                           PAGE

  I. CHARTLEY                                                        1

  II. FOTHERINGAY                                                   16

  III. THE TRIAL--FIRST DAY                                         44

  IV. THE TRIAL--SECOND DAY                                         69

  V. SUSPENSE                                                       83

  VI. AFTER THE SENTENCE                                           107

  VII. WAITING FOR DEATH                                           125

  VIII. FURTHER INDIGNITIES                                        145

  IX. THE DEATH WARRANT                                            163

  X. THE LAST DAY ON EARTH                                         179

  XI. THE END                                                      200

  XII. PETERBOROUGH                                                225

  XIII. WESTMINSTER                                                244

  APPENDIX                                                         249




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, REPRODUCED FROM THE
  PORTRAIT AT BLAIRS COLLEGE, ABERDEEN                  _Frontispiece_

  CONTEMPORARY DRAWING OF THE TRIAL,            }
  REPRODUCED FROM THE CALTHORPE MS.[4]          }   _Facing each other
                                                }    at page 44_
  FACSIMILE KEY TO ABOVE                        }

  CONTEMPORARY DRAWING OF THE EXECUTION,        }
  FROM THE CALTHORPE MS.                        }   _Facing each other
                                                }    at page 200_
  FACSIMILE KEY TO ABOVE                        }

  ENLARGEMENT OF THE EXECUTION SCENE,
  AS GIVEN IN THE BACKGROUND OF THE ABOVE           _To face page 220_

  RELIQUARY CONTAINING MINIATURE OF
  MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, AND RELICS,
  NOW IN THE POSSESSION OF LADY MILFORD             _To face page 244_

[Footnote 4: "Dedans une grande salle à laquelle on entroit
immediatement de l'autre chambre de sa Majesté par une porte simple
... ils avoient dressé et tendu, au bout d'icelle, le dais de
la Reyne, et, des deux costez, au dessous, le long de la paroy,
estoient assis les seigneurs et toutte la noblesse sus nommée en la
commission, estat et ordre que dessus; et au meilleu, quelques tables
de long et les bancs où estoient assis les commissairs et la justice
sus nommée, chacun en leur ordre. Et au dessous, avoient dressé une
barrière laissant une partie qui se levoit pour entrer et sortir,
faisant separation comme d'un parquet auquel n'entroit personne que
ceulx qui avoient affaire pour la commission, et avoient charge en
icelle. Et en l'autre separation, en bas, estoient gentilshommes
et servans des dits seigneurs de la commission, auditeurs et
spectateurs."--From Bourgoing's Journal, Chantelauze, p. 513.]




THE

TRAGEDY OF FOTHERINGAY




CHAPTER I

CHARTLEY

     "Ceux qui voudront jamais escrire de cette illustre Reine
     d'Ecosse en ont deux tres-amples sujets. L'un celui de
     sa vie y l'autre de sa mort, l'un y l'autre tres mal
     accompagnés de la bonne fortune."

     BRANTÔME.


Three hundred years have passed since Brantôme wrote these lines,
and his prevision has been fully verified. Writers of every
opinion--friends and foes--have taken as their theme the life and
death of Mary Stuart, and it would now seem as if nothing further
could be written on the subject, fascinating though it has proved.
Fresh historical matter bringing new evidence, however, comes to
light now and then, and the publication in France, some years ago,
of such testimony is our excuse for adding a short chapter to the
history of Queen Mary. That this evidence relates to her last days
and death, is very welcome, for we hold that in Queen Mary's case we
may specially apply her own motto, "In my end is my beginning." Her
death was the crown and meaning of her long trial, and the beginning
of an interest which has continued to the present day.

The journal of Queen Mary's last physician, Dominique Bourgoing,
published by M. Chantelauze in 1876, which recounts the events of the
last seven months of Mary's life, informs us of many details hitherto
unknown, while the report of the trial of which Bourgoing was an
eye-witness is most valuable and interesting. Taken together with
the Letters of Sir Amyas Paulet, which, although written in a very
different spirit, agree in the main with Bourgoing's narrative, the
journal presents us with a complete picture of the daily life of the
captive Queen and the inmates of Fotheringay. In the preface to his
valuable book M. Chantelauze tells us of his happy acquisition of the
manuscript copy of Bourgoing's journal at Cluny, discusses the proofs
of its authenticity, and refers us to the passage in Queen Mary's
last letter to Pope Sixtus V., which we must consider as Bourgoing's
"credentials."

"Vous aurez," writes Mary, "le vrai récit de la fasson de ma dernière
prise, et toutes les procédures contre moy et par moy, affin
qu'entendant la vérité, les calumnies que les ennemys de l'Eglise
me vouedront imposer puissent estre par vous réfutées et la vérité
connue: et à cet effet ai-je vers vous envoyé ce porteur, requérant
pour la fin votre sainte bénédiction."[5]

[Footnote 5: Fotheringay, 23rd November 1586. Labanoff, tom. vi. pp.
447-454. Among Mary's last requests to her brother-in-law, Henri
III., there is a passage referring also to Bourgoing. It runs thus:
"Further, I beseech him to take my physician into his service,
and to give credit to what he shall say, and to pay regard to my
recommendation of him."]

Bourgoing's Journal in effect begins from the moment specified by
the Queen, at her "last taking," and contains, as she says, the full
account of the proceedings taken against her. Although the interest
of the narrative centres in Fotheringay, Bourgoing also gives new and
interesting particulars of the way in which the Queen was removed
from Chartley, the imprisonment at Tixall, and the return to Chartley
before the journey to her last prison of Fotheringay.

Bourgoing begins his journal on Thursday, the 11th of August 1586,
at Chartley, where the Queen had now been since the previous
Christmas, and at a moment of the gravest importance for her safety.
The fatal conspiracy known as the Babington Plot had been arrested,
and the unhappy agents in it were awaiting their cruel doom. It was
determined that Mary should be removed from Chartley, her secretaries
sent to London, and her papers seized, while she was still ignorant
of the fate of Babington and his companions. For this purpose
William Wade, a sworn enemy to Mary, was sent down to Staffordshire
to take the necessary measures, and in order that this might be
done secretly, he and Sir Amyas Paulet, Mary's keeper, met at some
distance from the castle, and there arranged their plan of action.

The Queen's health had improved at Chartley, and she was now able
to take exercise on horseback. Paulet therefore proposed to her to
ride to Tixall, the house of Sir Walter Aston, which was situated a
few miles off, to see a Buck hunt. This proposal Mary accepted with
pleasure, and probably with some surprise at the unusual courtesy of
Sir Amyas.

On 16th August the party set out. "Her Majesty," says Bourgoing,
"arrayed herself suitably, hoping to meet some pleasant company,
and was attended by M. Nau, who had not forgotten to adorn himself;
Mr. Curle, Mr. Melvim, and Bourgoing, her physician; Bastien Pages,
mantle-bearer; and Annibal, who carried the crossbows and arrows of
Her Majesty. All were mounted and in good apparel, to do her and the
expected company honour, and indeed every one was joyous at the idea
of this fine hunt."[6]

[Footnote 6: Chantelauze, p. 467.]

The Queen, who was very cheerful, rode on for about a mile, till Nau
observed to her that Sir Amyas was some way behind. She stopped
till he came up and spoke very kindly, saying she feared that, as
he was in bad health, he could not go so fast; to which he replied
courteously. The party proceeded a short way "without thinking more
about it," says Bourgoing, "when Sir Amyas, approaching the Queen,
said: 'Madame, here is one of the gentlemen pensioners of the Queen,
my mistress, who has a message to deliver to you from her,' and
suddenly M. George,[7] habited in green serge, embroidered more than
necessary for such a dress, and, as it appeared to me, a man of about
fifty years, dismounted from his horse, and coming to the Queen, who
remained mounted, spoke to her as follows: 'Madame, the Queen, my
mistress, finds it very strange that you, contrary to the pact and
engagement made between you, should have conspired against her and
her state, a thing which she could not have believed had she not seen
proofs of it with her own eyes and known it for certain. And because
she knows that some of your servants are guilty, and charged with
this, you will not take it ill if they are separated from you. Sir
Amyas will tell you the rest.'

[Footnote 7: Sir Thomas Gorges.]

"To which Her Majesty could only reply that, as for her, she had
never even thought of such things, much less wished to undertake
them, and that from whatever quarter she (Elizabeth) had received
her information, she had been misled, as she (Mary) had always shown
herself her good sister and friend." A melancholy scene now took
place. Nau and Curle, who wished to approach their mistress, were
forced back, and taken off to a neighbouring village. They never saw
Mary again. Melville was also removed.

The Queen's party now turned back and proceeded a mile or two,
when Bourgoing, who, as he tells us, had placed himself as near
as he could to his mistress, saw that they were following a new
route; to this he drew the Queen's attention, and she called to Sir
Amyas, who was ambling slowly in front, to know where they were
going. On hearing that they were not to return to Chartley, Mary,
"feeling very indisposed, and unable to proceed," dismounted from
her horse and seated herself on the ground. She now implored Sir
Amyas to tell her where she was to be taken; he replied that she
would be in a good place, one finer than his, that she could not
return to her former residence, and that it was mere loss of time
to resist or remain where she was. She saying she would prefer to
die there, he threatened to send for her coach and place her in it.
The Queen remained inconsolable; and here it is very touching to
observe Bourgoing's efforts to comfort and encourage his mistress,
his entreaties to Paulet, his affectionate remonstrances with the
Queen herself, and even the very improbable ideas that he propounds
to console her, such as that perhaps Elizabeth was dead and Mary's
friends were taking these strange measures to place her person in
safety. At last the Queen was persuaded to proceed, but first, aided
by Bourgoing, she withdrew a few yards, and there under a tree she
"made her prayer to God, begging Him to have pity on her people and
on those who worked for her, asking pardon for her faults, which she
acknowledged to be great and to merit chastisement. She begged Him
to deign to remember His servant David, to whom He had extended His
mercy, and whom He had delivered from his enemies, imploring Him to
extend also His pity to her, though she was of use to no one, and
to do with her according to His will, declaring that she desired
nothing in this world, neither goods, honours, power, nor worldly
sovereignty, but only the honour of His holy name and His glory,
and the liberty of His Church and of the Christian people; ending
by offering Him her heart, saying that He knew well what were her
desires and intention."[8]

[Footnote 8: Chantelauze, p. 469.]

On the way to Tixall, where Mary was to be lodged, two more of her
attendants were separated from her; one, Lawrence, who held her
bridle rein, and was observed to talk with her, and Elizabeth
Pierpoint, one of her women.

Hitherto nothing has been known of the Queen's imprisonment at
Tixall. Bourgoing, however, tells us a few facts. We learn that
Paulet allowed Mary's apothecary, two of her women, and Martin, an
equerry, to join her, and Bourgoing remained for one night before
being sent back to Chartley. In the evening of her arrival at Tixall,
Mary sent to ask for pen and paper to write to Queen Elizabeth; but
this Paulet refused, saying he should allow no letter to be sent till
he had authority from the Court.

"On the morrow, the 17th August," writes Bourgoing,[9] "Her Majesty
being still in bed, I was sent for by Sir Amyas to speak with him.
Before descending I asked Her Majesty if she had anything to acquaint
him with, but she said I should first learn what he wanted of me; and
afterwards I was not permitted to return to the Queen, but was taken
to Chartley, where I remained a prisoner with the rest, awaiting the
return of the Queen."

[Footnote 9: Chantelauze, p. 476.]

Bourgoing describes the search made at Chartley, and mentions the
three coffers of papers of all sorts that were carried off by Wade
and his companions. On 26th August the Queen was brought back to
Chartley. On leaving Tixall a crowd of beggars, attracted no doubt by
her well-known charity, assembled at the park gate, but she was as
poor as they. "I have nothing to give you," she said; "I am a beggar
as well as you--all is taken from me."[10]

[Footnote 10: Paulet to Walsingham, 27th August, Record Office.]

Bourgoing's Journal thus records this day: "Thursday the 26th Her
Majesty was brought back to Chartley with a great company, after
being strictly detained at the place of Tiqueshal; she was welcomed
by each one of us, anxious to show our devotion, not without tears on
both sides, and the same day she visited us, one after the other, as
one who returns home." Then he adds briefly: "After that the tears
were over (Her Majesty) found nothing to say except about the papers
which had been taken away, as has been related above."[11] But here
Paulet's correspondence with Walsingham gives us further details, in
which he describes the Queen's very just indignation at the manner
in which her drawers and cabinets had been ransacked and every paper
carried off. Then, turning to Paulet, she said that there were two
things which he could not take from her--her royal blood and her
religion, "which both she would keep until her death."

[Footnote 11: Chantelauze, p. 479.]

Early in September Paulet received orders to take possession of
all the Queen's money. Bourgoing gives a long account of the way in
which the commission was executed. Mary was ill in bed, but Paulet
insisted on seeing her. He and Mr. Baquet[12] entered her apartment,
leaving his son and a good number of other gentlemen and servants,
all armed, in the anteroom. Paulet sent all the ladies and servants
out of her room, "which made us all anxious," says Bourgoing, "not
knowing what to expect from such an unusual proceeding and being
unaccustomed to such words. The best I could do was to keep myself
by the door, under the pretext that Her Majesty was alone, and two
men with her, (where I remained) very sad and thoughtful." In the
end Gervais, the surgeon, was also permitted to remain along with
Bourgoing. When Paulet informed Mary that he must have her money, she
at first absolutely refused to give it up. When at last Elspeth Curle
had, at the Queen's bidding, opened the door of her cabinet, the
Queen, "all alone in her room, which no one (of us) dared approach,
and guarded by Sir Amyas's people, rose from her bed, crippled as
she was, and without slipper or shoe followed them, dragging herself
as well as she could to her cabinet, and told them that this money
which they were taking was money which she had long put aside as a
last resource for the time when she should die, both for her funeral
expenses and to enable her attendants to return each to his own
country after her death." Mary pleaded for some time, but Sir Amyas,
while assuring her she should want for nothing, refused to leave her
any of the money.

[Footnote 12: Probably the Mr. Bagot who is mentioned by Paulet.]

Some days later Sir Amyas again visited the Queen, and interrogated
her at length regarding her knowledge of Babington and the
conspiracy, concluding by saying "that she would be spoken to more
fully about it, as it was necessary that the whole thing should be
cleared up. From this Her Majesty took occasion to think she would be
examined, but no one imagined this would be in the manner we shall
hereafter see."[13]

[Footnote 13: See also the _Letter Books of Sir Amyas Paulet_, pp.
288-292.]

About 15th September Paulet began to speak to Mary of the intended
move to Fotheringay; he did not tell her the name of the place, but
said that it would be very beneficial for her health to move from
Chartley, and that she should be taken to one of the Queen's castles
situated thirty miles from London. He also informed Mary that he
now understood why her money had been taken from her. He perceived,
he said, that it was for fear she should give it away or use it for
some dangerous purpose on the road, and he had been assured she
would receive it back when she should reach her journey's end. The
Queen was quite willing to leave Chartley, and was anxious to take
the journey before her indisposition should increase. Bourgoing thus
continues:--

"From now they commenced to prepare the luggage and everything for
the departure which was fixed for the Tuesday following, the 20th of
the said month, but was deferred till the next day on account of the
change in the appointed lodging, which was supposed to be Worcester
or else Chazfort (?); but both were changed and Fotheringay was
chosen, a castle of the (English) Queen's in Northamptonshire.... Of
all these things we were only told secretly, and Her Majesty never
knew for certain where they were taking her, not even on the day
she reached her new dwelling, but used to think sometimes they were
taking her one way, sometimes another. Before starting in the morning
they would tell her whether she had a long or a short journey to
make, sometimes the number of miles, but they would never tell her
the place where she was to sleep that night."

On the Monday before the party left Chartley, Sir Thomas Gorges and
Stallenge (Usher of Parliament) arrived "with their pistols in their
belts." This arrival caused anxiety among Mary's followers, who
were only reassured when they observed that Gorges and Stallenge
addressed her more courteously than they expected.

"The following Wednesday, which was St. Matthew's Day (21st
September), Her Majesty being ready to start, the doors of all the
rooms were locked where her servants were, who were to remain behind,
and the windows were guarded for fear that they should speak to
her, or even see her." Mary was carried to her coach, as she was
still unable to walk. As the Queen started, Sir Thomas Gorges, who,
together with Stallenge, accompanied the party, accosted her, and
informed her that he had something to say to her from his mistress.
"I pray God," replied Mary, "that the message is better and more
agreeable than the one you recently brought me." To which Gorges
answered, "I am but a servant." "With this Her Majesty was content,
telling him that she could not consider him to blame."[14] It was not
till the next day that the message was delivered.

[Footnote 14: Chantelauze, p. 490.]

The Queen and her escort spent the first night at Burton,[15] and the
next morning before starting, Mary, who had been in great anxiety to
know what he had to say, sent for Sir Thomas. The message, in part
similar to the previous one, was to the effect that Elizabeth was
utterly surprised that Mary should have planned such enterprises,
and even to have hands laid on her who was an anointed Queen. Gorges
swore that his mistress had never been so astonished or distressed by
anything that had ever happened. "My mistress knows well," he said,
"that if your Majesty were sent to Scotland, you would not be in
safety; your subjects there would do you an ill turn; and she would
have been esteemed a fool had she sent you to France without any
reason."

[Footnote 15: Miss Strickland says that the Queen's passage through
Burton is recorded by a Latin inscription engraved on a window at
Hill Hall Castle.]

To this Mary replied very fully, declaring that she had never planned
anything against the Queen of England or the State. "I am not so
base," said she, "as to wish to cause the death or to lay hands on
an anointed Queen like myself, and I have comported myself towards
her as was my duty." Mary remarked that she had several times warned
Elizabeth of things to her advantage, and then reverted to her own
long imprisonment, and her many sufferings. "If all the Christian
prelates, my relations, friends, and allies," continued she, "moved
by pity, and having compassion for my fate, have made it their duty
to comfort and aid me in my misery and captivity, I, seeing myself
destitute of all help, could not do less than throw myself into their
arms and trust to their mercy, but, however, I do not know what were
their designs, nor what they would have undertaken, nor what were
their intentions. I have no part with this, and have not been the
least in the world mixed up in it. If they have planned anything, let
her (Elizabeth) look to them; they must answer for it, not I. The
Queen of England," concluded Mary, "knows well that I have warned
her to look to herself and her Council, and that perchance foreign
kings and princes might undertake something against her, upon which
she replied that she was well assured of both foreigners and her own
subjects, and that she did not require my advice."[16]

[Footnote 16: This conversation with Gorges is mentioned in
Bourgoing's Journal alone. See Chantelauze, pp. 401, 402.]

Gorges' only reply was that he prayed God this was true, but he
showed Mary every courtesy by the way, "as well for her lodgings as
for requisite commodities for the journey." Nothing of any importance
occurred during the remainder of the journey, and on 25th September
the party reached Fotheringay.




CHAPTER II

FOTHERINGAY

     "In darkest night for ever veil the scene
     When thy cold walls received the captive Queen."

     _Antona's Banks MSS._, 17--.


On Sunday 25th September 1586 Mary Stuart reached the last stage
of her weary pilgrimage. As she passed through the gloomy gateway
of Fotheringay Castle the captive Queen bade farewell to hope and
to life. Well read as she was in the history of England, Mary must
have keenly realised the ominous nature of her prison. The name of
Fotheringay had been connected through a long course of years with
many sorrows and much crime, and during the last three reigns the
castle had been used as a state prison. Catherine of Arragon, more
fortunate than her great-niece, had flatly refused to be imprisoned
within its fatal walls, declaring that "to Fotheringay she would not
go, unless bound with cart ropes and dragged thither." Tradition,
often kinder than history, asserts that James VI., after his
accession to the English throne, destroyed the castle;[17] and though
it is no longer possible to credit him with this act of filial love
or remorse, time has obliterated almost every trace of the once grim
fortress. A green mound, an isolated mass of masonry, and a few
thistles,[18] are all that now remain to mark the scene of Mary's
last sufferings. Very different was the aspect of Fotheringay at
the time of which we write. Then, protected by its double moat, it
frowned on the surrounding country in almost impregnable strength.
The front of the castle and the great gateway faced to the north,
while to the north-west rose the keep. A large courtyard occupied
the interior of the building, in which were situated the chief
apartments, including the chapel and the great hall destined to be
the scene of the Queen's death.

[Footnote 17: "Beat down the castle in a fit of
revenge."--_Archæologia_, xv. 221; Gough's _Camden_, ii. 181.]

[Footnote 18: It is a curious fact that the thistle is to be found
growing near all the places in which Queen Mary resided or was
imprisoned, both in England and Scotland.]

Mary, as we know, reached Fotheringay under the care of Sir Amyas
Paulet and Sir Thomas Gorges.[19] Sir William Fitzwilliam, castellan
of the castle, whose constant courtesy and kindness obtained the
Queen's ready gratitude, had also accompanied her. As soon as Mary
was safely consigned to her prison Sir Thomas Gorges was despatched
to inform Queen Elizabeth of the fact. His report of the journey
which he had made in company with the royal prisoner and the arrival
at Fotheringay (which must have afforded him many opportunities of
ascertaining Mary's sentiments regarding the position in which she
was now placed) would be full of the deepest interest for us, but
although, no doubt, Elizabeth eagerly inquired into every detail
regarding her cousin, no record of this report has been discovered.

[Footnote 19: Bourgoing's Journal; see Chantelauze, p. 493.]

Very little is known of Mary's first days at Fotheringay. No letters
of the Queen's relating to this time have been preserved, but from
Bourgoing's Journal we gather a few facts. His mistress, he tells
us, complained, and with justice, of the scanty and insufficient
accommodation provided for her, especially as she had observed "many
fine rooms unoccupied." As Paulet paid little attention to her
demands, and it was rumoured that the vacant apartments were reserved
for some noblemen, Mary at once suspected that she was about to be
brought to trial. She had long foreseen this issue, and had spoken
of it to her attendants. The prospect did not alarm her; to use
Bourgoing's words, "she was not in the least moved; on the contrary,
her courage rose, and she was more cheerful and in better health than
before."

On October 1st Paulet sent a courteous message to the Queen
requesting an interview with her. He had received intelligence
which he would "willingly" communicate to her. Experience had taught
Mary and her followers to connect evil tidings with any unusual
display of civility on Paulet's part, nor were they deceived. When
he found himself in Mary's presence he brusquely informed her that
Queen Elizabeth, having now received Sir Thomas Gorges' report, had
expressed much surprise, and marvelled that her cousin dared to
deny the charges brought against her, when she herself possessed
proof of the facts. His mistress must now send some of her lords and
counsellors to interrogate Mary, and of this he wished to warn her,
so that she might not think she was to be taken by surprise. Then
lowering his voice, Paulet added significantly that "the Queen would
do better to beg pardon of Her Majesty, and confess her offence and
fault, than to let herself be declared guilty (by law); and that if
she would follow his advice, and agree to this, he would communicate
her decision to Queen Elizabeth, being ready to write her reply,
whatever it might be." Mary smiled at this proposal, saying that it
reminded her of the way in which children are bribed to make them
confess, and in reply said, "As a sinner I am truly conscious of
having often offended my Creator, and I beg Him to forgive me, but
as Queen and Sovereign I am aware of no fault or offence for which
I have to render account to any one here below, as I recognise no
authority but God and His Church. As therefore I could not offend, I
do not wish for pardon; I do not seek, nor would I accept it from any
one living." Then assuming a lighter tone, the Queen further remarked
that she thought Sir Amyas took much pains for but small result, and
that he seemed to make little progress in this affair. Paulet here
interrupted her, exclaiming that his mistress could show proof of
what she asserted, and that the thing was notorious. Mary therefore
would do well to confess, but he would report her answer. He then
begged the Queen to listen while he repeated her answer word by word,
and having written it down, he despatched it on the same day to the
Court.

We may ask ourselves whether Elizabeth was sincere in her overtures
to her cousin. If Mary had sued for mercy, would Elizabeth have
granted it? It is more probable that any words which could have been
extorted from Mary would have been used by the English Queen as a
safeguard for her own honour. Armed with a confession of any sort,
Elizabeth would have had no difficulty in ridding herself quietly of
her cousin, and her own reputation would have suffered less. As we
have seen, Mary at once perceived the trap prepared for her, and with
her usual promptitude and courage she easily avoided it.

About this time a little ray of comfort came to cheer the Queen's
imprisonment. Her faithful steward, Melville, who had of late been
separated from her, was permitted to return, and he brought with him
his daughter and the daughter of Bastien Pages, who was a goddaughter
of the Queen's. The consolation which Mary received from their
arrival was, however, soon allayed by the summary dismissal of her
coachmen and some other servants, a proceeding which she rightly took
to be a fresh sign of the gravity of her position.[20]

[Footnote 20: See _Letter Books of Sir Amyas Paulet_, p. 290; and
Chantelauze, p. 495.]

In London meanwhile events were proceeding rapidly. On October 8th
the Commissioners appointed to judge the Scottish Queen assembled
at Westminster. The Chancellor, Sir Thomas Bromley, having briefly
related the history of the late conspiracy, read aloud copies of the
letters addressed by Babington to Mary, her reputed answers, and
the evidence said to have been extracted from Nau and Curle. At the
conclusion nearly all present were of opinion that Mary should be
brought to trial. The Commissioners were therefore summoned to meet
at Fotheringay, and all the peers of the kingdom were invited to be
there present, save those employed in offices of state. To the great
displeasure of Elizabeth and Burleigh, Lord Shrewsbury evaded this
summons on the plea of illness. The Queen herself intimated the
approaching trial to her faithful Paulet.[21] The crisis, therefore,
had now come. No one familiar with the character of Elizabeth or
the policy of her advisers could doubt the issue of the trial. It
would have seemed only natural to suppose that France or Spain would
effectively resent the outrage offered to a sister Queen; but the
days of chivalry were past, and Philip of Spain could forsake an
ally and Henry of France abandon a sister-in-law in her dire need.
To the honour of France be it said, however, that Mary found an
ardent defender in the French Ambassador, De Chateauneuf, who exerted
himself to the utmost on her behalf; Elizabeth, however, treated his
efforts with supreme contempt.

[Footnote 21: See _Letter Books of Sir Amyas Paulet_, p. 295.]

When Chateauneuf implored that the Queen of Scotland might at least
have counsel to defend her, Elizabeth sent him word that she knew
what she was doing, and did not require advice from strangers.
She was aware that she need fear no active interference from
Chateauneuf's master. Still less did she dread opposition on the part
of the young King of Scotland. The disregard for his mother, in which
Elizabeth had herself encouraged James, was her present safeguard,
and she had determined that should he prove obstinate she would
threaten him with exclusion from the succession to the English throne.

On Saturday, 11th October, the Commissioners reached Fotheringay.
Some were lodged in the castle, though the greater number found rooms
in the village and neighbouring farmhouses and cottages. A duplicate
copy of the Commission was at once transmitted to Mary. The act
bore the names of forty-eight members, but of these nine or ten had
refused to attend.

The Primate of England headed the list, and among the most important
names occurred those of Cecil, Lord Burleigh, Walsingham, Sir
Christopher Hatton, the Earls of Leicester and Warwick, Davison,
Elizabeth's Secretary, Beale, and others.[22]

[Footnote 22: The full list is given by Bourgoing; see Chantelauze,
p. 496.]

On the following day, Sunday, the lords attended service in the
castle chapel. They afterwards sent a deputation to Mary, composed of
Sir Walter Mildmay, Sir Amyas Paulet, Barker (Elizabeth's notary),
and Stallenge, Usher of Parliament. They were the bearers of a
letter from their mistress, couched in brief and imperious terms.
This epistle, which was addressed simply to "The Scotish," without
any other title or expression of courtesy, stated that Elizabeth
having heard that Mary had denied participation in the plot against
her person, notwithstanding that she herself possessed proofs of the
fact, she now considered it well to send some of her peers and legal
counsellors to examine Mary and judge the case, adding that as the
Queen of Scotland was in England, and under her protection, she was
subject to the laws of the country.[23]

[Footnote 23: See R.O., Mary Queen of Scots, vol. xx. No. 6, dated
6th October.]

In reply to this document, which, as she observed, read as a command
addressed to a subject, Queen Mary replied with dignity. "I am myself
a queen," said she, "daughter of a king, a stranger, and the true
kinswoman of the Queen of England. I came into England on my cousin's
promise of assistance against my enemies and rebel subjects, and was
at once imprisoned. I have thus remained for eighteen years, always
ill-treated and suffering constant trials at the hands of Queen
Elizabeth. I have several times offered to treat with the Queen with
good and honest intentions, and have often wished to speak with her.
I have always been willing to do her service and give her pleasure,
but I have always been prevented by my enemies. As a queen I cannot
submit to orders, nor can I submit to the laws of the land without
injury to myself, the King my son, and all other sovereign princes.
As I belong to their estate, majesty, and dignity, I would rather die
than betray myself, my people, or my kingdom, as a certain person has
done. I decline my judges," continued Mary, "as being of a contrary
faith to my own. For myself, I do not recognise the laws of England,
nor do I know or understand them, as I have already often asserted.
I am alone, without counsel, or any one to speak on my behalf. My
papers and notes have been taken from me, so that I am destitute of
all aid, taken at a disadvantage, commanded to obey, and to reply
to those who are well prepared and are my enemies, who only seek
my ruin. I have made several offers to the Queen of England which
have not been accepted, and now I hear that she has again entered
into a league with my son, thus separating mother from child. I am
a Catholic, and have placed myself under the protection of those
Catholic kings and princes who have offered me their services. If
they have planned any attempt against Queen Elizabeth, I have not
been cognisant of it, and therefore it is wrong to treat me as if I
were guilty." Mary concluded by demanding that reference should be
made to her former protestation.[24]

[Footnote 24: Made at the time of the Sheffield Conferences.]

Mildmay and Paulet carried Mary's reply to the Commissioners, who
were assembled in the large apartment which had been prepared for
them, near the Queen's rooms. After a consultation had been held, Sir
Amyas, Barker, and Stallenge returned to the Queen's presence, in
order to obtain her sanction to the copy of her answer to Elizabeth,
which had been committed to writing.

Barker knelt before Mary and read aloud the letter, which, Bourgoing
tells us, was reported in "good style," and with no omission save
the passage in which Mary expressed her desire to see Elizabeth.
Mary signified her approval of the letter, and observed that she
wished now to reply to those points of her cousin's letter which in
her trouble and agitation had before escaped her. She repeated that
she did not consider herself under the protection of the Queen; that
she had not come into England for refuge, but to obtain assistance;
and that, notwithstanding the promise of help from Elizabeth, she
had been made prisoner and detained by force. She was not, she said,
subject to the laws of England, which are made for the English and
such as come to reside in England, whereas she had always been dealt
with as a captive and had had no advantage from the laws, nor had she
been in subjection to them. She had always kept her own religion,
which was not that of England, and she had lived according to her own
usages, to all of which no objection had been made.

Here Sir Amyas, "appearing to show himself more considerate," bade
the Queen remember that he had no orders either to listen to her or
to report her words; but Barker, "whispering in his ear," assured him
that he could let her speak, and add her words and anything else he
wished to the report. Paulet did not, however, avail himself of this
piece of advice, and thus the interview ended.

On the following morning, about ten o'clock, just as the Queen
was seated at table for her early dinner, Sir Amyas, Barker, and
Stallenge came to inquire whether she would be pleased to see the
Commissioners, as they desired to speak with her. Mary expressed her
willingness to receive them, and accordingly several members, chosen
from the different orders of peers, privy-councillors, and lawyers,
entered her presence, one by one, with great ceremony, preceded by an
usher bearing the great seal of England.

The Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas Bromley, speaking in the name of all,
announced that they had come by command of the Queen of England their
mistress, who, being informed that the Queen of Scotland was charged
with complicity in a conspiracy against her person and state, had
commissioned them to examine her on several points concerning this
matter. He further reminded Mary that the Commission was authorised
by letters patent thus to interrogate her; and concluded by
remarking that as neither her rank as sovereign nor her condition as
prisoner could exempt her from obedience to the laws of England, he
recommended Her Majesty to listen in person to the accusations about
to be brought against her, as, should she refuse, the Commissioners
would be obliged in law to proceed against her in her absence.

Mary, who was much moved by this arrogant speech, replied with tears
that she had received Elizabeth's letter, and that she would rather
die than acknowledge herself her subject. "By such an avowal,"
continued she, "I should betray the dignity and majesty of kings, and
it would be tantamount to a confession that I am bound to submit to
the laws of England, even in matters touching religion. I am willing
to reply to all questions, provided I am interrogated before a free
Parliament, and not before these Commissioners, who doubtless have
been carefully selected, and who have probably already condemned me
unheard." In conclusion Mary bade them consider well what they were
doing. "Look to your consciences," said she, "and remember that the
theatre of the world is wider than the realm of England." Noble and
pathetic words, to the truth of which the history of three hundred
years bears ample testimony.

Burleigh (whom Bourgoing designates as "Homme plus véhement")[25]
here interrupted the Queen, and informed her that the council, after
receiving her former reply, had taken the advice of several learned
doctors of canon and civil law; and that the latter, after mature
deliberation, had decided that the Court could, despite her protest,
proceed in the execution of their Commission. "Will you therefore,"
continued Burleigh rudely, "hear us or not? If you refuse, the
assembled council will continue to act according to the Commission."

[Footnote 25: A curious note in Beale's hand (Yelverton MSS. 31,465)
gives us the reason for Burleigh's "vehemence" against Mary at this
moment. It runs as follows: "The Bishop of Glasgow, the Scottish Q.'s
Ambassador in France, had written unto her how W. Cecill, son and
heir to Sir Tho. Cecill, had been at Rome and reconciled. That there
was good hope that the L. Treasurer, his grandfather, would do her
what pleasure he could. Item, in another letter he advertised her how
Sir Edward Stafford (?), Her Maj.'s Ambassador in France, had shewed
unto him a letter from the L. Treasurer, whereby he presumed that the
said L. Tr'r. did favour her. These letters came to the Q. Mty.'s
knowledge, and the matter came to the L. Tr'r.'s knowledge, which
for the purgation of himself to be nothing inclined that way, made
him, as it is thought, more earnest against her."]

The Queen reminded Burleigh that she was a queen, and not a subject,
and could not be treated as one. He retorted that Queen Elizabeth
recognised no other queen but herself in her kingdom. He and his
colleagues, he said, had no wish to treat Mary as a subject;
they were well aware of her rank, and were prepared to treat her
accordingly; but they were bound to fulfil the line of duty laid down
for them by the Commission, and to ascertain whether she was subject
to the laws of England. He ended by declaring that she was assuredly
subject to the civil and canon law as it was observed abroad. The
Queen remaining unconvinced by these arguments, the Commissioners
were forced to retire for a time.

Before leaving her Burleigh made a curious speech, bidding Mary
recall to her memory the benefits which had been heaped upon her by
her cousin! insisting in especial upon some remarkable instances of
her clemency. "The Queen, my mistress," said he, "has punished those
who contested your pretensions to the English crown. In her goodness
she saved you from being judged guilty of high treason at the time
of your projected marriage with the Duke of Norfolk, and she has
protected you from the fury of your own subjects."

Mary replied to this extraordinary speech with a sad smile.

As soon as she had dined, the Queen, who, as Bourgoing tells us,
had not been able to write for a long time, owing to rheumatic
pains in her arm, set to work to make notes, to assist her when the
Commissioners should return; fearing, as she said, that her memory
might fail her. As was usual with her, however, the very danger of
her position inspired her with fresh vigour and courage, and when
the moment came she defended herself as "valiantly as she was rudely
assailed, importuned, and pursued by the Commissioners; and she ended
by saying far more than she had prepared in writing."

In the course of the afternoon Sir Amyas and three others were
deputed to wait on Mary with a duplicate copy of the Commission,
which she had requested to see. They proceeded to explain this
document, which was chiefly founded on two Acts of Parliament
passed two years previously. By the former of these it was declared
high treason for any one to speak of Mary's succession to the
crown of England during the lifetime of Elizabeth. The second
decreed that should any one, of whatsoever rank, in the kingdom or
abroad, conspire against the life of Elizabeth, or connive at such
conspiracy, it should be lawful for an extraordinary jury comprised
of twenty-four persons to adjudge that case. These laws (which the
Queen justly felt to have been framed specially for her destruction)
were now to be applied. She was accused of "consenting" to the
"horrible fact of the destruction of Elizabeth's person and the
invasion of the kingdom," and she was now called upon to submit to
the interrogations of the appointed judges. To the energetic protests
offered by Mary the deputies made no reply, but withdrew to consult
with the other Commissioners; and later in the day the attack was
renewed.

On this occasion Bourgoing says that the lords came in fewer numbers
than in the morning, but with the same ostentatious ceremony.

The Queen began by referring to a passage in Elizabeth's letter, and
demanded to know what the word "protection" there signified. "I came
into England," said she, "to seek assistance, and I was immediately
imprisoned. Is that 'protection'?" Burleigh, always the spokesman,
and who invariably seemed animated with a wish to attack Mary, was
puzzled to reply to this simple question, and endeavoured to evade
it. He had "read the letter in question," he said, "but neither he
nor his colleagues were so presumptuous as to dare to interpret their
mistress's letter. She, no doubt, knew well what she wrote; but it
was not for subjects to interpret the words of their sovereign."

"You are too much in the confidence of your mistress," returned Mary,
"not to be aware of her wishes and intentions, and if you are armed
with such authority by your Commission as you describe, you have
surely the power to interpret a letter from the Queen." Burleigh
denied that he and his companions had known anything of the letter;
adding, however, that he was aware that his mistress considered that
every person living in her kingdom was subject to its laws. "This
letter," continued Mary, "was written by Walsingham; he confessed to
me that he was my enemy, and I well know what he has done against
me and my son." At this point the Commissioners "discussed among
themselves as to whether Walsingham had been in London at the
time when the letter was written or not, but could not decide the
question." Mary then again protested against the injustice of being
tried by the laws of a country in which she had lived only as a
prisoner.

"If your Majesty," retorted one of the lords, "was reigning
peacefully in your own kingdom, and some one were to conspire against
you, would you not proceed against him, were he the greatest king in
the world?"

"Never," replied Mary, "never would I act in such a manner; however,
I see well that you have already condemned me--all you do now is
merely for form's sake. I do not value my life, but I strive for the
preservation of my own honour, and the honour of my relatives and of
the Church. You frame laws according to your own wishes," continued
the Queen; "and as in former days the English refused to recognise
the _salique_ law in France, so I do not feel bound to submit to
your laws. If you wish to proceed according to the common law of
England, you must produce examples and precedents. If you follow the
canon law, those only who framed it can interpret it. Roman Catholics
alone have the right to explain and apply it." To this Burleigh
replied that the canon law was used ordinarily in England, especially
regarding marriages and kindred matters, but not in what touched
the authority of the Pope, which they neither desired nor approved.
"In consequence then," continued Mary, "you cannot avail yourselves
of the privilege of him whose authority you deny. The Pope and his
delegates alone can interpret the canon law, and I know of no one in
England who has received this authority from the sovereign pontiff.
As for the civil laws, they were made by the Catholic Emperors of
old, or in any case, sanctioned by them; and these laws can only
be applied by such as approve their authors, and would wish to
imitate them. As these laws were often obscure and difficult, and
people wished to interpret them, each according to his own idea,
universities were established in Italy, France, and Spain. Here in
England, where none such exist, you do not possess the knowledge of
the true spirit and interpretation of these laws, but you interpret
them according to your own wishes, and in such a way as to serve the
law, and the police law of your country. If you wish to try me by the
true civil law, I demand that some members of the universities be
allowed to judge my case, so that I may not be left to the judgment
of such lawyers as are subservient to the laws of England alone. But
I see that you wish to prevent me from benefiting either by the canon
or the civil law. You wish to reduce me to subject myself to the law
of this country; but," continued the Queen earnestly, "I have no
knowledge of this law. It is not my profession, and you have taken
from me all power of studying it. Kings and princes usually have
around them such persons as are versed in these matters, but I have
no one. I therefore beg you to give me information in order that I
may know how those in my position have been treated in the time past,
and what has been admitted by law or precedent, either favourable to
my case or not."

Mary's hearers eagerly seized the opportunity afforded them, and
suggested that she should see the judges and lawyers then present
at Fotheringay, who would explain the matter to her. At first the
Queen seemed as if she were inclined to favour this proposal. "Her
Majesty, very well pleased, at first agreed, till she perceived by
some words of the Treasurer (Burleigh) that by this suggestion they
had no intention but to make her aware by them (the judges) that her
cause was bad, that she was subject to the laws of England, and that
there was a just case against her, so that consequently she might in
the end be judged by them. So Her Majesty, perceiving that she could
not communicate with the judges about her business without humbling
herself, refused to hear them."[26]

[Footnote 26: Chantelauze, pp. 505-508.]

The envoys now proposed to the Queen to hear the new Commission.
After listening to it attentively, Mary observed that she saw it
referred to laws which she must refuse to recognise, as she suspected
that they had been framed expressly for her ruin by those persons who
were her enemies, and who aimed at dispossessing her of her right
to the kingdom. Elizabeth's emissaries replied that even though the
laws were new, they were as just and equitable as those of other
countries. Her Majesty, they added, knew well that it was necessary
on occasion to abrogate certain laws and frame new ones.

"These new laws," returned Mary, "cannot be used to my prejudice. I
am a stranger, and consequently not subject to them, and the more
especially as I belong to a different religion. I confess to being
a Catholic, and for this religion I would wish to die, and shed my
blood to the last drop. In this matter do not spare me; I am ready
and willing, and shall esteem myself very happy if God grants me
the grace to die in this quarrel." The Queen's hearers, amazed at
her courage, refrained from pressing her further, and reserved--as
Bourgoing tells us--their reply for a future occasion.

Mary now demanded to see the former protestation which she had made
at Sheffield. "I have not changed since then," she remarked, "being
the same person still, my rank and quality remaining undiminished,
and my sentiments unaltered, while the circumstances were then
almost identical with those of the present crisis." Being thus
pressed, Sir Thomas Bromley and Lord Burleigh read aloud the
protestation, refusing at the same time either to approve or accept
it. Bromley acknowledged, however, that he had on the previous
occasion received it from Mary and presented it to his mistress. "Her
Majesty," continued he, "neither approved nor accepted it, and we are
not at liberty to receive it, nor you to make use of it. The Queen of
England has power in her own kingdom over all persons who conspire
against her without respect to quality or degree. As your rank is,
however, well known, the Queen is treating you very honourably,
having selected so worthy a company of the great men of her kingdom
as her Commissioners in this matter. We have taken no step against
you; we are not judges, but have only come to examine you."

The day passed thus in mutual discussion until dusk, when Sir
Christopher Hatton, seeing that no progress was being made,
interposed, and adopting a conciliatory tone, observed that to his
mind many unnecessary matters were being discussed. He and his
colleagues were there simply to ascertain whether the Queen of Scots
was, or was not, guilty of having participated in the plot against
their mistress. He was of opinion, he said, that the Queen should
not refuse to be examined, as in that case people would take her to
be guilty, whereas were she to consent to be interrogated she could
prove her innocence, which would bring honour to herself and rejoice
Queen Elizabeth. Hatton added that in his parting interview with his
mistress she had protested to him with tears that nothing had ever
so wounded her as the thought that her cousin should have sought to
injure her,--a thing which she could not have believed of her.

"What favour can I look for when I shall have established my
innocence?" demanded Mary; "and what reparation will be made to me
for being brought here by force, treated as a criminal and a subject,
and convoked before an assembly of judges in an apartment specially
prepared for my trial?"

"Your honour will suffer no injury," returned Hatton persuasively,
"and my mistress will be satisfied. As for the place of your trial,
that is of no consequence; any place would do equally well. This
castle was chosen as being the Queen's property and suitable for the
occasion. If any of your people have alarmed you, be reassured, there
is no danger for you. We have chosen the large hall close to your own
apartment, as being more commodious for you in your weak health, and
as it is Her Majesty's presence-chamber, we have there erected her
dais. To us, who are sent here as her Commissioners, this attribute
of state represents our Queen, as if she were here in person."
Burleigh here impatiently interrupted Hatton by exclaiming that it
was time to retire, and demanded once more of Mary whether she would
be examined or not. "The Commissioners are determined to proceed in
any case," said he, "and the council will assemble to-morrow."

"I am not obliged to answer you," replied Mary. "May God inspire you,
and may you be directed to do right according to God and to reason. I
beseech you, think well of what you are about."

The Commissioners then withdrew.

Elizabeth had been at once informed of the previous day's interview,
of Mary's refusal to be interrogated, and of the resolution of the
Commissioners to proceed with the trial and sentence, even in the
absence of the prisoner. Alarmed at this decision, the Queen sent
a courier post-haste to urge Burleigh and his companions not to
pronounce sentence until they should return, and give her a complete
report of the proceedings. The same messenger was the bearer of a
letter to Mary, the reception of which must have added bitterness to
this day of trial.[27] The letter ran as follows:--

     You have planned in divers ways and manners to take my
     life and to ruin my kingdom by the shedding of blood. I
     never proceeded so harshly against you; on the contrary,
     I have maintained you and preserved your life with the
     same care which I use for myself. Your treacherous doings
     will be proved to you, and made manifest in the very place
     where you are. And it is my pleasure that you shall reply
     to my Nobles and to the Peers of my kingdom as you would
     to myself were I there present. I have heard of your
     arrogance, and therefore I demand, charge, and command you
     to reply to them. But answer fully, and you may receive
     greater favour from us.

     ELIZABETH.[28]

[Footnote 27: Chantelauze, pp. 508-511.]

[Footnote 28: Egerton, pp. 86, 87.]

In this epistle Elizabeth, as we see, once more held out hopes of
clemency to her cousin, but it seems probable that Mary paid little
heed to promises which she had so often found to be delusive.
Bourgoing makes no allusion to this letter, but he says that his
mistress, seeing the determination of the Commissioners to proceed
in any case, "remained all the night in perplexity." On one side she
dreaded being obliged to appear "in a public place against her duty,
her state, and her quality," while on the other she foresaw that
should she persist in her refusal to answer their interrogations,
the Commissioners would assert her silence to be proof of her guilt,
and would pronounce sentence against her, and declare "as an assured
fact that in her conscience she knew herself to be guilty." Towards
morning the Queen determined to send word to the lords that she
desired to say a few words to them before they assembled.

On the morning of the 14th, accordingly, the Commissioners delegated
some of their number to wait upon the Queen. Among these was
Walsingham, whom Mary now saw for the first time. We subjoin the
dignified address made by the Queen on this occasion. It seems
evident that Bourgoing wrote down this speech either from Mary's
dictation, or from notes supplied by herself, as, unlike the other
speeches recorded by him, it is given throughout in the first
person:--

"When I remember that I am a queen by birth," said Mary, "a stranger
and a near relation of the Queen, my good sister, I cannot but be
offended at the manner in which I have been treated, and could do
nothing other than refuse to attend your assembly and object to
your mode of procedure. I am not subject either to your laws or
your Queen, and to them I cannot answer without prejudice to myself
and other kings and princes of the same quality. Now, as always
heretofore, I will not spare my life in defence of my honour; and
rather than do injury to other princes and my son, I am prepared to
die, should the Queen, my good sister, have such an evil opinion of
me as to believe that I have attempted aught against her person. In
order to prove my goodwill towards her, and to show that I do not
refuse to answer to the charges of which I am accused, I am prepared
to answer to that accusation only, which touches on the life of Queen
Elizabeth, of which I swear and protest that I am innocent. I say
nothing upon any other matter whatsoever as to any friendship or
treaty with any other foreign princes. And making this protestation,
I demand an act in writing."[29]

[Footnote 29: Chantelauze, p. 512.]

The Commissioners, "very happy to have brought the Queen to this
point,"[30] assured her that their only desire was to ascertain
whether she was guilty or not, and thus to satisfy their mistress,
who would be well content to see her innocence proved. Mary then
once more inquired if it was necessary for her to appear in the
hall of council. They replied that it must be so; repeating that
the apartment had been prepared expressly for the purpose, and
that they would there hear her as if she were in the presence of
Elizabeth herself, in order that they might address their report to
their sovereign in due form. The delegates then withdrew to consult
together over Mary's last protestation. Shortly afterwards they sent
word that they had committed it to writing, and once again summoned
her to appear before them. This the Queen consented to do "as soon as
she had broken her fast by taking a little wine, as she felt weak
and ill."[31]

[Footnote 30: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 31: Chantelauze, p. 513.]

       *       *       *       *       *

The die was now cast. To us the Queen's decision seems a fatal error.
Had she persisted in claiming her royal prerogative of inviolability,
the trial would have lost that semblance of legal justice which
her present assent--though made under protest--lent to it; and her
accusers would have been unable to extricate themselves from the
difficulty. It is, however, very questionable whether Mary's life
would have been saved in any case. Had she refused to be tried, other
means would have been found. Private assassination was the one and
only form of death which was dreaded by the Queen. She knew that were
she to die without witnesses, every effort would be made to blacken
her fame and, if possible, to throw doubt on her fidelity to her
faith. It is to this fear that we may probably attribute Mary's final
decision to face her judges.




CHAPTER III

THE TRIAL

_The First Day_


The large room destined for the trial was situated, as we have
said, in close proximity to Mary's apartments, and immediately over
the great hall of the castle. According to Bourgoing it was "very
spacious and convenient." At the upper end stood the dais of estate,
emblazoned with the arms of England, and surmounting a throne the
emblem of sovereignty. In front of the dais, and at the side of the
throne, a seat had been prepared for Queen Mary, "one of her crimson
velvet chairs, with a cushion of the same" for her feet.

[Illustration: Contemporary Drawing of the Trial of Mary Queen of
Scots at Fotheringay.

From the Calthorpe MS.]

[Illustration: List of Names, in Beale's handwriting, of those
present at the Trial.

Accompanying the Calthorpe Drawing.]

Benches were placed on each side of the room: those on the right were
occupied by the Lord Chancellor Bromley, the Lord Treasurer Burleigh,
and the Earls; on the left the Barons and Knights of the Privy
Council, Sir James Crofts, Sir Christopher Hatton, Sir Francis
Walsingham, Sir Ralph Sadler, and Sir Walter Mildmay. In front of the
Earls sat the two premier judges and the High Baron of the Exchequer,
while in front of the Barons were placed four other judges, and two
doctors of civil law.

At a large table, which was placed in front of the dais, sat the
representatives of the Crown: Popham, Attorney-General; Egerton,
Solicitor-General; Gawdy, the Queen's sergeant; and Barker, the
notary: also two clerks, whose duty it was to draw up the official
report of the proceedings. The documentary evidence, such as it was,
was arranged on the table. A movable barrier with a door divided
the room into two parts, and at the lower end were assembled as
spectators the gentlemen attendants and the servants of the Lords of
Commission.

At nine o'clock the Queen made her entrance, escorted by a guard of
halberdiers. She wore a dress and mantle of black velvet, and over
her pointed widow's cap fell a long white gauze veil. Her train was
borne by one of her maids of honour, Renée Beauregard. Mary was
supported on each side by Melville and Bourgoing; and although, owing
to the want of exercise and the severe rheumatism from which she
suffered, she walked with great difficulty, it was with undiminished
dignity of mien. She was followed by her surgeon, Jacques Gervais;
her apothecary, Pierre Gorion; and three waiting-women, Gillis
Mowbray, Jane Kennedy, and Alice Curle.

As the Queen advanced the Commissioners uncovered before her, and
she saluted them with a majestic air; then, perceiving that the seat
prepared for her was placed outside the dais and in a lower position,
she exclaimed--

"I am a queen by right of birth, and my place should be there, under
the dais;" but quickly recovering her serenity, she took her seat,
and looking round at the assembled dignitaries, whose faces bore no
sign of sympathy for their victim, she said mournfully to Melville--

"Alas! here are many counsellors, but not one for me."[32]

[Footnote 32: It is interesting to compare Queen Mary's words with
those of M. de Sèze in his defence of Louis XVI., 26th December
1792: "Je cherche parmis vous des juges, et je n'y vois que des
accusateurs."]

Her desolate position, without counsel to defend her, without
secretary to take notes for her, despoiled even of her papers, must
have seemed strange to Mary's generous nature. In Scotland the
poorest of her subjects would have enjoyed the privileges now denied
to herself.

Among the noblemen assembled to judge the Queen were some of her
former partisans, such as my Lords Rutland, Cumberland, and others,
who had taken a share in the late undertaking, and whose letters had
been seized at Chartley, yet who now, to save their estates if not
their lives, were forced to appear among her enemies. Very few of the
English nobles were known to Mary by sight, and it was noticed that
she often questioned Paulet, who was stationed behind her, regarding
them. They on their side were doubtless eager to see this princess,
whose beauty was renowned, and who with courage equal to her sorrows
now faced her judges with all the dignity of her happier days.

The Lord Chancellor opened the proceedings by a speech, in which he
declared that the Queen of England, having been surely informed, to
her great grief, that the destruction of her person and the downfall
of her kingdom had been lately planned by the Queen of Scots, and
that in spite of her long tolerance and patience, this same Queen
continued her bad practices and had made herself the disturber of
religion and the public peace, Her Majesty felt impelled to convoke
this present assembly to examine into these accusations. In thus
acting Her Majesty was actuated by no unkind feeling, or desire of
vengeance, but solely by a sense of the duty imposed upon her by
her position as sovereign and her duty to her subjects. Bromley
stated that the Queen of Scots should be heard in declaring fully
all that should seem good to her for her defence and to establish
her innocence. Then turning to Mary, he concluded with these words:
"Madame, you have heard why we have come here; you will please listen
to the reading of our Commission, and I promise you that you shall
say all that you wish."[33]

[Footnote 33: Chantelauze, p. 515.]

Mary replied in the following terms: "I came into this kingdom
under promise of assistance, and aid, against my enemies, and not
as a subject, as I could prove to you had I my papers; instead of
which I have been detained and imprisoned. I protest publicly that
I am an independent sovereign and princess, and I recognise no
superior but God alone. I therefore require that before I proceed
further, it be recorded that whatever I may say in replying here
to the Commissioners of my good sister, the Queen of England (who,
I consider, has been wrongly and falsely prejudiced against me),
shall not be to my prejudice, nor that of the princes my allies, nor
the King my son, or any of those who may succeed me. I make this
protestation not out of regard to my life, or in order to conceal the
truth, but purely for the preservation of the honour and dignity of
my royal prerogative, and to show that in consenting to appear before
this Commission I do so, not as a subject to Queen Elizabeth, but
only from my desire to clear myself, and to show by my replies to
all the world that I am not guilty of this crime against the person
of the Queen, with which it seems I am charged. I wish to reply to
this point alone, I desire this protest to be publicly recorded, and
I appeal to all the lords and nobles present to bear me testimony,
should it one day be necessary."[34]

[Footnote 34: Chantelauze, pp. 515, 516.]

Bromley, in reply, utterly denied that Mary had come into the kingdom
of England under promise of assistance from his mistress. He declared
that he and his colleagues were willing to record the protest of the
Queen of Scots, but without accepting or approving it. He affirmed
that it was void and null in the eyes of the law, and should in no
way be to the prejudice of the dignity and supreme power of the
English sovereign, or to the prerogative or jurisdiction of the
Crown. To this he called all present to bear witness.[35]

[Footnote 35: See Appendix, p. 271.]

The Commission, which was drawn up in Latin, was now read aloud. At
the end Mary protested energetically against the Commission and the
laws upon which it was based,--laws which, she observed, had been
framed expressly to destroy her just claims to the English throne and
to bring about her death.

Gawdy, the Queen's sergeant, now rose, "having a blue robe, a red
hood on the shoulder, and a round cap _à l'antique_," and with
head uncovered, made a discourse explaining the Commission and
the occasion which had caused it to be summoned. He discussed
several points, namely, the seizure of Babington, the suspected
correspondence between him and the Queen of Scots, and further
details of the plot, mentioning the names of the six men who (as he
declared) had conspired to murder Queen Elizabeth.

As soon as Mary had replied that she had never spoken to Babington,
that, although she had heard him spoken of, she did not know him and
had never "trafficked" with him, and that she knew nothing of the
six men whom they had alluded to, another lawyer, in the same dress
as Gawdy, rose and read "certain letters which they said Babington
had dictated of his own free will before his death, from memory."
These, and other _copies_ of letters said to have passed between the
Queen and Babington, were also shown, together with the confessions
of the conspirators, and the depositions of Curle and Nau, which were
declared to be signed by them.

The Queen protested against this second-hand evidence brought against
her, and demanded to see the originals of the letters. "If my enemies
possess them," said she, "why do they not produce them? I have the
right to demand to see the originals and the copies side by side.
It is quite possible that my ciphers have been tampered with by my
enemies. I cannot reply to this accusation without full knowledge.
Till then I must content myself with affirming solemnly that I am
guiltless of the crimes imputed to me. I do not deny," continued the
Queen, "that I have earnestly wished for liberty and done my utmost
to procure it for myself. In this I acted from a very natural wish;
but I take God to witness that I have never either conspired against
the life of your Queen, nor approved a plot of that design against
her. I have written to my friends, I confess; I appealed to them to
assist me to escape from these miserable prisons in which I have
languished for nearly nineteen years. I have also, I confess, often
pleaded the cause of the Catholics with the Kings of Europe, and for
their deliverance from the oppression under which they lie, I would
willingly have shed my blood. But I declare formally that I never
wrote the letters that are produced against me. Can I be responsible
for the criminal projects of a few desperate men, which they planned
without my knowledge or participation?"

The whole morning from about ten o'clock was occupied in reading the
depositions and letters of Babington, the accusers doing their utmost
to make Mary appear guilty, "without any one saying a single word for
her."[36]

[Footnote 36: Chantelauze, p. 518.]

During the reading of the confession attributed to Babington, Mary
was much moved by the allusion made therein to the Earl of Arundel
and his brothers, as also to the young Earl of Northumberland; and
she exclaimed with tears, "Alas! why should this noble house of
Howard have suffered so much for me? Is it likely," continued she,
"that I should appeal for assistance to Lord Arundel, whom I knew to
be in prison? or to Lord Northumberland, who is so young, and whom I
do not know? If Babington really confessed such things, why was he
put to death without being confronted with me? It is because such a
meeting would have brought to light the truth, that he was executed
so hastily."

About one o'clock the Queen retired to take her dinner, after which
she returned to the hall and the proceedings were resumed. Bourgoing
describes so graphically the position of the Queen and her judges,
that we give his own words:--

"Her Majesty having dined and returned to the same place, they
continued to read aloud letters tending to the same end, the
deposition and confession of M. Nau and M. Curle written on the
back of a certain letter and signed by them, and also some others
touching her intelligence with them. Her Majesty replied first to
one and then to another without any order, but on hearing any point
read, would, without being interrogated by them, say whether it
were true or not. For their manner of proceeding was always to read
or speak to persuade the lords that the Queen was guilty. They
always addressed the lords, accusing the Queen in her presence, with
confusion and without any order, and without any one answering them a
word, in suchwise that when we returned to her room the poor Princess
told us that it reminded her of the Passion of Jesus Christ, and
that it seemed to her that, without wishing to make a comparison,
they treated her as the Jews treated Jesus Christ when they cried,
'_Tolle, Tolle, Crucifige_'; and that she felt assured that there
were those in the company who pitied her, and did not say what they
thought."

In spite, however, of the vehemence of those "Messieurs les
Chicaneux," as Bourgoing terms them, Mary preserved her calmness;
and the hotter they grew, the more courageous and constant was she
in her replies. She now recapitulated much of what she had before
said to the Commissioners in her own room, in order that the assembly
might know her sentiments; and after pointing out the injustice of
her long imprisonment, she thus continues: "I have, as you see, lost
my health and the use of my limbs. I cannot walk without assistance,
nor use my arms, and I spend most of my time confined to bed by
sickness. Not only this, but through my trials I have lost the small
intellectual gifts bestowed on me by God, such as my memory, which
would have aided me to recall those things which I have seen and
read, and which might be useful to me in the cruel position in which
I now find myself. Also the knowledge of matters of business which
I formerly had acquired for the discharge of those duties in the
state to which God called me, and of which I have been treacherously
despoiled. Not content with this, my enemies now endeavour to
complete my ruin, using against me means which are unheard of towards
persons of my rank, and unknown in this kingdom before the reign of
the present Queen, and even now not approved by rightful judges, but
only by unlawful authority. Against these I appeal to Almighty God,
to all Christian princes, and to the estates of this kingdom duly
and lawfully assembled. Being innocent and falsely suspected, I am
ready to maintain and defend my honour, provided that my defence be
publicly recorded, and that I make it in the presence of some princes
or foreign judges, or even before my natural judges; and this without
prejudice to my mother the Church, to kings, sovereign princes,
and to my son. With regard to the pretensions long put forward by
the English (as their Chronicles testify) to suzerainty over my
predecessors the Kings of Scotland, I utterly deny and protest
against them, and I will not, like a _femme de peu de coeur_, admit
them, nor by any present act, to which I may be constrained, will
I fortify such a claim, whereby I should dishonour those princes
my ancestors as well as myself, and acknowledge them to have been
traitors or rebels. Rather than do this, I am ready to die for God
and my rights in this quarrel, in which, as in all others, I am
innocent.

"By this you can see that I am not ambitious, nor would I have
undertaken anything against the Queen of England through a desire
to reign. I have done with all that; and as regards myself, I wish
for nothing but to pass the remainder of my life in peace and
tranquillity of mind. My advancing age and my bodily weakness both
prevent me from wishing to resume the reins of government. I have
perhaps only two or three years to live in this world, and I do not
aspire to any public position, especially when I consider the pain
and _désésperance_ which meet those who wish to do right, and act
with justice and dignity in the midst of so perverse a generation,
and when the whole world is full of crimes and troubles."[37]

[Footnote 37: Chantelauze, p. 520.]

Burleigh, "no longer able to contain himself," here interrupted the
Queen, reproaching her with having assumed the name and arms of
England, and of having aspired to the Crown. "What I did at that
time," replied Mary, "was in obedience to the commands of Henry the
Second, my father-in-law, and you well know the reason."

"But," retorted Burleigh, "you did not give up these practices even
after we signed the peace with King Henry."

"You made the arrangement to your own interest and advantage,"
replied Mary; "I was not thereby bound to renounce my rights, or to
abandon them to my own great prejudice and that of my successors,
receiving nothing in return. I owed you nothing. I was not dependent
on your Queen, nor am I now, and I was not obliged to cede to her
rights so important. If I had shown such weakness I should have
been always reproached with it as having acted to my own blame and
dishonour."

"You have also," insisted Burleigh, "continued to assert your
pretension to the English Crown."

"I have never," answered the Queen, "given up my rights; I do not
now, and never will. I beg of you, before this assembly, not to press
me to say more upon this matter, for I do not wish to offend any
one. I pray you to be content. You and many here present know well
the reasons which led me to act in this matter, and of which it is
unnecessary to speak at present. I am not called upon to render you
an account of my actions. You know well that I have been reasonable
and have made generous offers. I have indeed offered more than I
should have done. God and you know whether I have a right or not
to the Crown of England. I have offered myself to maintain the
rights of my sister Queen Elizabeth as being the eldest, but I have
no scruple of conscience in desiring the second rank, as being the
legitimate and nearest heir. I am the daughter of James V., King of
Scotland, and granddaughter of Henry VII. This cannot be taken from
me by any law, or council, assembly, or judgment, nor consequently
can my rights. I know well that my enemies and those who wish to
deprive me of those rights have done up till now all that they can
to injure me, and have essayed all illegitimate means, even to
attempting my life, as is well known, and has been discovered in
certain places and by certain persons whom I could name, were it
necessary; but God, who is the just Judge, and who never forgets His
own, has until now, in His infinite mercy and goodness, preserved
me from all danger, and I hope that He will continue to do so and
will not abandon me, knowing that He is all truth, and that He has
promised not to abandon His servants in their need: He has extended
His hand over me to afflict me, but He has given me this grace of
patience to bear the adversities which it has pleased Him to send
me. I do not desire vengeance. I leave it to Him who is the just
Avenger of the innocent and of those who suffer for His name, under
whose power and will I take shelter. I prefer the conduct of Esther
to that of Judith, although both are approved by the Church. I pray
God to do with me according to His good pleasure, to His praise and
honour, and to the greater glory of His Church, in which I wish to
live and die, in which I have been brought up and educated, and
for which (as I have already protested several times) I would shed
my blood to the last drop, being resolved to suffer all that God
wishes. I do not fear the menaces of men. I will never deny Jesus
Christ, knowing well that those who deny Him in this world, He will
deny before His Father. I demand another hearing," continued Mary,
"and that I be allowed an advocate to plead my cause, or that I be
believed on the word of a queen.... I came to England relying upon
the friendship and promises of your Queen. Look here, my lords," she
exclaimed, drawing a ring from her finger; "see this pledge of love
and protection which I received from your mistress--regard it well.
Trusting to this pledge, I came amongst you. You all know how it has
been kept."

After having recorded this noble speech of his mistress, Bourgoing
thus continues his narrative: "As they read aloud at intervals
letters from Babington to Her Majesty and from her to Babington, she
utterly denied _tout à plat_ having ever seen and received any such
letters, much less of having replied to them."

Mary's judges of course laid much stress on this charge, the capital
point in the accusation, and produced ciphers and other letters,
and the depositions of those who were examined (as well as those of
Curle and Nau), to prove that the Queen had received and answered
Babington's letter, and that she was consequently accessory to the
proposed assassination of Queen Elizabeth.

Mary was now closely questioned regarding the passage in her reputed
letter to Babington which referred to "the four horsemen who were
appointed in London to inform her when the blow fell," but replied
that she did not know what it meant.

Turning to Walsingham (who had made some remarks), the Queen
continued: "It is easy to imitate ciphers and handwriting, as has
been lately done in France by a young man who boasts that he is
my son's brother. I fear that all this is the work of Monsieur de
Walsingham for my destruction: of him who I am certain has tried to
deprive me of my life, and my son of his. As to Ballard, I have heard
him spoken of. Information reached me from France that he was a very
firm Catholic, and that he wished to serve me; but I was also told
that he had 'great intelligence' with Monsieur de Walsingham, and
that I must be on my guard. I know nothing more about him. I protest
that I never even thought of the ruin of the Queen of England, and
that I would a hundred times rather have lost my life than see so
many Catholics suffer for my sake and be condemned to a cruel death
through hatred to my person." In saying these words Mary burst into
tears.

"No faithful subject," exclaimed Burleigh, "has ever been put to
death on account of religion. Some have been for treason, because
they maintained the Bull and the authority of the Pope against that
of our Queen."

"Yet I have heard just the contrary," said Mary, "and read so in
printed books."

"The authors of such books," retorted Burleigh, "also declare that
the Queen has forfeited the royal prerogative." When Burleigh ceased
speaking, Walsingham, who keenly felt the Queen's accusation, rose,
and bowing his head addressed her, assuring her that she had been
misinformed as to his sentiments.

"I protest," said he, "that my soul is free from all malice. God is
my witness that, as a private person, I have done nothing unworthy
of an honest man, and as Secretary of State, nothing unbefitting
my duty. You have been told that I wish you ill, that I have often
said things to your disadvantage, that I have confessed myself to
be your enemy, nay, even that I planned that the death of yourself
and your son should happen on the same day; but I assure you that I
bear ill-will to no one, I have attempted no one's death. I protest
that I am a man of conscience and a faithful servant to my mistress.
I confess," continued Walsingham, "that I am ever vigilant regarding
all concerning the safety of my Queen and country; I have closely
watched all conspiracies against either. As for Ballard, if he had
offered me his assistance I could not have refused it, and should
probably have rewarded him. If I had any secret dealings with him,
why did he not declare them in order to save his life?"

The Queen, impressed by his denial, assured Walsingham that she paid
no attention to what she had heard against him, and had not believed
it, adding that she implored him to give no more credit to those who
calumniated her, than she gave to those who accused himself. "If
you were not received in Scotland as you merited," continued Mary,
"it was no fault of mine; I do not think that you wish to revenge
yourself upon me, who knew nothing of it." She then declared that
some of the ciphers were hers. "There had been others older and some
more recent," she said, "but this is nothing, for people can use the
same cipher on occasions, according to the correspondence they have
in different places, and for this reason it is possible that Morgan,
who formerly served me, may have used my ciphers, in consequence of
the connections which he has with the other princes."

At the name of Morgan, Burleigh, with his usual vehemence, reproached
the Queen. "You know well, madame," said he, "that Morgan professes
to be your servant, and you have pensioned him, although you are well
aware that he plotted the death of the Queen along with Parry, for
which crime he is still a prisoner in France, having been pursued and
accused by Lord Derby, in the name of Her Majesty."

"You know well," replied Mary, turning towards the audience, "that
I have not joined in this undertaking, nor suborned any one." At
this appeal several gentlemen present declared loudly that she was
entirely innocent of such a crime. "You see by this," continued Mary,
"the evil will of some of your Queen's councillors towards me. If
any one has undertaken anything against the person of the Queen, it
is not I. For long people have conspired against her, of which you
have had many proofs. I am grieved that Morgan should have mixed
himself up with such matters, but I cannot answer for his actions.
I cannot do less than aid him in his necessities in recognition of
his services, which I shall never forget, in the same way that I aid
others who have assisted me."

As Burleigh still insisted that Morgan was Mary's pensioner, she
again denied it, adding that she had desired money to be given to him
from time to time for his use; "but," continued she, "has not England
pensioned Patrick Gray and other Scotsmen, my enemies, and even my
son himself?" "It is true," replied Burleigh, "that, through the
negligence of its Regent, the revenues of Scotland are so diminished
that the Queen in her goodness has made some gifts to your son,
the King of Scotland, who is her own relation." After this avowal
Burleigh let the matter drop, and fresh discussions regarding the
confessions of Nau and Curle now arose.

Mary's judges maintained that the Queen's secretaries had confessed
that their mistress had received "certain letters," and that she had
replied to them, that they had done everything by her command, that
they had written nothing without communicating it to her, as was her
custom, as she allowed nothing to be produced without her knowledge.
Thus Mary's "direction" of the conspiracy was proved, they declared,
and it was "by her command that the secretaries wrote in her cabinet,
where the despatches were made up, and that this was done generally
in her presence; that after writing them they read them to her, that
the despatches were closed and sealed in her cabinet, and that they
had often tried to deter her from such enterprises."

Keenly aware of the injustice of this second-hand manner of producing
evidence, the Queen protested. "Why," said she, "are not Nau and
Curle examined in my presence? they at any rate are still alive.
If my enemies were assured that they would confirm their pretended
avowals, they would be here without doubt. If they have written,
be it what it may, concerning the enterprise, they have done it of
themselves, and did not communicate it to me, and on this point I
disavow them. Nau, as a servant of the King of France, may have
undertaken things not according to my wishes; he had undertakings
that I did not know of. He confessed publicly that he belonged to the
King of France, that he did not depend on me, and would only do for
me what he thought good. He often complained of me because I could
not consent to many of his projects, and would not authorise them. I
know well that Nau had many peculiarities, likings, and intentions,
that I cannot mention in public, but which I much regret, for he
does me great injustice. For my part, I do not wish to accuse my
secretaries, but I see plainly that what they have said is from fear
of torture and death. Under promise of their lives, and in order
to save themselves, they have excused themselves at my expense,
fancying that I could thereby more easily save myself; at the same
time, not knowing where I was, and not suspecting the manner in which
I am treated. For more than twelve months Nau has not written in his
own cabinet; he has hid himself from every one, and has written his
despatches in his own private room, for his own convenience and to be
more at his ease, as he said, as Sir Amyas and all the household can
attest.

"As to Curle, if he has done anything suspicious, he has been
compelled to do it by Nau, whom he feared much to displease, and to
avoid whom he fled. And yet," added the Queen, "I do not think either
the one or the other would have forgotten himself so far. As I was
ill during most of the time, I could not attend to business, and
generally I did not know what they were doing, but trusted to Nau."

"It is true," replied Burleigh, "that Nau avows himself a subject
of the King of France; but he has been Secretary to the Cardinal of
Lorraine, and he is the sworn servant of your Grace. He obeys your
commands. It is of his own free will, and without being in any way
constrained, that he has made his depositions, to which he has sworn,
and written them and signed them with his own hand."

"No doubt he was Secretary of the King," returned Mary, "and
received wages from him, terming himself his banker in this country,
and under this pretext he was very disobedient to me. I commanded
him, it is true, and in a general way supported his doings, as
all princes are accustomed to do, but it is for him to answer for
his private doings; I cannot but think he has been acting under
constraint in this matter. Feeling himself to be feeble and weak
by nature, and fearing torture, he thought to escape by throwing
all the blame on me. A criminal is not allowed to be sworn, and
his assertions are not believed; his oath is worthless. The first
oath which he has taken to his master renders all others null and
void; and Nau can make none that can prejudice me. And I see well,"
continued Mary, examining one of the written depositions attributed
to Nau, "that he has even not written or signed as he is accustomed
to do, supposing that, as you all affirm, he has written it with
his own hand; may it not be that while translating and putting my
letters into cipher, my secretaries may have inserted things which I
did not dictate to them? May it not be also that letters similar to
those now produced, may have come to their hands without, however, my
seeing them? The majesty and safety of princes would be reduced to
nought, if their reputation depended upon the writing and witnesses
of their secretaries. I dictated nothing to them but what nature
herself inspired me, for the recovery at last of my liberty. I can
only be convicted by my words or by my own writings. If, without my
consent, they have written something to the prejudice of the Queen,
your mistress, let them suffer the punishment of their rashness. But
of this I am very sure, if they were now in my presence, they would
clear me on the spot of all blame, and would put me out of case. Show
me, at least, the minutes of my correspondence written by myself;
they will bear witness to what I now assert."

The Queen's defence, so clear and unanswerable, silenced for a time
the accusers, and they took refuge in insult. "Then," says Bourgoing,
"the Chicaneurs made a great noise, calling out and striving to prove
and exaggerate the facts, with fury repeating all that had been said
or written,--all the circumstances, suspicions, and conjectures. In
short, all the reasons they could imagine were brought to the front
to make their cause good, and to accuse the Queen without allowing
her to reply distinctly to what they said. Like 'madmen' they
attacked her, sometimes one by one, sometimes all together, declaring
her to be guilty, which gave occasion to Her Majesty to make a very
noble speech on the next morning."[38]

[Footnote 38: Chantelauze, pp. 522-527.]

Thus ended the first day of the trial. No notice was taken of the
Queen's demands. Her secretaries were never examined in her presence,
and her own notes, so earnestly begged by her, were never produced.
It was declared later on, indeed, in the star-chamber, that these
notes had been destroyed by Mary's own order, but no one dared assert
this before herself. Our readers will probably agree with M. Hosack,
who thus admirably sums up the result of this day's work:--

"It cannot be denied that, even according to their own account, she
had maintained throughout a decisive superiority over her opponents.
Without counsel, or witnesses, or papers, and armed with nothing
but her own clear intellect and heroic spirit, she had answered,
point by point, all their allegations. Knowing the weakness of their
proofs, they had artfully mixed up the charge of conspiracy with the
scheme of invasion; and Burleigh, taking upon himself the functions
of Crown prosecutor, had sought to draw her attention from the main
question in dispute, by dwelling on a variety of topics, which were
only intended to bewilder and confuse her. But apparently perceiving
his design, she brought him back again and again to the real point at
issue between them."[39]

[Footnote 39: Hosack, vol. ii. p. 426.]




CHAPTER IV

THE TRIAL

_The Second Day_


The Queen passed an anxious and sleepless night in preparation for
the morrow's attack. She commenced the day in prayer, in her oratory,
imploring strength to defend her honour and her life.

As on the previous day, Mary entered the hall attended by Bourgoing,
and accompanied by Melville and others of her attendants. She
was very pale, but her countenance expressed unabated firmness
and resolution. It is to be noted that on this occasion neither
the Attorney-General nor the Queen's Sergeant took part in the
proceedings. Either Burleigh was dissatisfied as to the way in which
things were going, or he desired to show his own legal skill, and
had determined to take upon himself the entire management of the
trial,--a departure from the established usage, unheard of in any
other state trial of the period.

It was known that the Queen wished to address the assembly, and as
soon as she was seated all approached in silence, and with bare
heads, "in great curiosity to hear her."

"I beg permission, gentlemen," said she, "to speak freely and to say
all that I think necessary, and without being interrupted, according
to the promise made to me yesterday by the Chancellor in the name
of all this assembly. The manner in which I am treated appears to
me very strange; not only am I brought to this place to be tried,
contrary to the rights of persons of my quality, but my case is
discussed by those who are not usually employed in the affairs of
kings and princes. I thought only of having to reply to gentlemen who
have virtue for their guide, and who hold the reputation of princes
in honour; to those who devote themselves to the protection of their
princes, to the preservation of their rights, and to the defence of
their country, of which they are the guardians and protectors.

"Instead of this, I find myself overwhelmed under the importunity of
a crowd of advocates and lawyers, who appear to be more versed in the
formalities of petty courts of justice, in little towns, than in the
investigation of questions such as the present. And although I was
promised that I should be simply questioned and examined on the one
point,--that, namely, concerning the attempt on the person of the
Queen,--they have presumed to accuse me, each striving who should
surpass the other in stating and exaggerating facts, and attempting
to force me to reply to questions which I do not understand, and
which have nothing to do with the Commission. Is it not an unworthy
act to submit to such conduct of such people, the title of a
princess, one little accustomed to such procedures and formalities?
and is it not against all right, justice, and reason to deliver
her over to them, weak and ill as she is, and deprived of counsel,
without papers, or notes, or secretary? It is very easy for many
together, and, as it appears to me, conspiring for the same object,
to vanquish by force of words a solitary and defenceless woman. There
is not one, I think, among you, let him be the cleverest man you
will, who would be capable of resisting or defending himself, were
he in my place. I am alone, taken by surprise, and forced to reply
to so many people who are unfriendly to me, and who have long been
preparing for this occasion; and who appear to be more influenced
by vehement prejudice and anger than by a desire of discovering the
truth and fulfilling the duties laid down for them by the Commission.

"If, however, I must submit to this treatment, I ask, at least, that
I may be permitted to reply to each person and to each point of the
accusation separately, and one after the other, without confusion;
as, on account of my sickness and weakness, it is impossible for me
to refer back in detail, as I should wish, to such a mass of subjects
all advanced confusedly together. In any case I demand that, as this
assembly appears to have been convened for my accusation, another
shall be summoned in which I may enter freely and frankly, defending
my rights and my honour, to satisfy the desire I have of proving my
innocence."

"It is quite right," replied Burleigh, "that your Grace should say
all that you wish, and you shall do so. As for those who interrogated
you yesterday, they acted according to their duty. To discover the
truth of facts it is necessary to discuss all questions which relate
to the case in hand; as regards your demand that a fresh assembly
should be convoked, it shall be seen to, but we ourselves have not
the power to grant it."

This moderate speech is in character with what Bourgoing specially
notices, namely, the temporary change in the demeanour of the
accusers. "All this morning," he tells us, "the pettifogging lawyers
showed themselves more modest, and not only this, but the Treasurer
gave them hints by signs how to act, making them speak or be silent
according as he wished. From this," continues Bourgoing, "we took
occasion to hope that the proceedings would soon come to an end,
especially as we observed that most of the noblemen had come to the
assembly booted, and some even in riding dress."

The forenoon passed in discussions very similar to those of the
previous day, "concerning rather the overthrow of the Queen by
strangers, the correspondence of Her Majesty with the Christian
princes, and her deliverance from prison," than bearing upon the
real question at issue, the attempt on Elizabeth's life. The same
wearisome questions were met by the same dignified answers, and
Bourgoing gives many interesting details which are not recorded in
the English reports of the trial.

Burleigh took pains to persuade Mary once more of the great favours
which had been shown to her, assuring her again that the Commission
could have examined the proofs in her absence; and protesting that
although they desired to examine her only regarding the one point of
accusation, it was necessary, for the full knowledge of the truth, to
read the whole correspondence brought in evidence against her.

"The circumstances may be proved," returned Mary, "but never the
fact itself. My innocence does not depend on the reputation, or on
the memory, of my secretaries, although I hold them to be honest
and sincere. It is possible for letters to be sent to other persons
than those to whom they were written, and several things have been
inserted in those letters which I did not dictate. If my papers had
not been taken from me, and if I had a secretary, I could better
refute the accusations brought against me."

"You will be accused of nothing previous to 19th June," continued
Burleigh, "and your papers would be of no use to you. Your
secretaries and the chief of the conspiracy himself (who were never
put to the torture) have affirmed that you sent certain letters to
Babington; and although you deny this, it is for the Commissioners to
judge whether they should place more faith in an affirmation or in a
denial.

"But to return to the present question. You have formed many plans
for your deliverance. If they have not succeeded, that is your own
fault and not the fault of my mistress, for the Scotch lords have
refused to place their King under guardians again. At the very moment
that the last treaty for your freedom was concluded, Parry, one of
your own servants, was secretly sent by Morgan to assassinate the
Queen."

Mary exclaimed, "You are indeed my enemy."

"Yes," replied Burleigh, "I am the enemy of the enemies of Queen
Elizabeth."

Letters from Mary to Charles Paget referring to the projected
invasion were now read, and one from Cardinal Allen to the Queen, in
which he addressed her as his sovereign, and informed her that the
matter was recommended to the Duke of Parma.

While this was going on Mary examined the faces of her judges, and
questioned Paulet (who was seated behind her) regarding the names
of those she did not know, carefully noting "who spoke much and who
spoke little or kept silence."

As soon as the reading was finished Burleigh accused the Queen of
having proposed to send her son to Spain, and of transmitting to
Philip the Second her "pretended rights" to the Crown of England.

"I have no kingdom to confer," replied she, "but I have a legal right
in giving what belongs to me, and on this point I have to answer to
no one, be it who it may."[40]

[Footnote 40: Chantelauze, pp. 240, 241.]

Later on Mary was again reproached by the lawyers with having
relations with the King of Spain.

"It is not your affair," replied she, in a tone of authority. "It
is not your affair to speak of matters concerning princes, and to
inquire whether they have secret intelligences with each other."

"I do not blame you for this," said Burleigh; "but if the Spanish
army had entered the country, could you have answered for the life of
the Queen? Would not the country have been in danger of falling into
the hands of strangers?"

"I do not know what were their intentions," returned the Queen,
"nor am I bound to answer for them; but I am very sure that they
would have done something for me, and if you had wished to employ my
services I should have been able to bring about a good understanding
between you and them, as I have often offered to do. You should not
have refused my offers. If you destroy me you will place yourselves
in danger, and will receive more harm than good. Of all that has been
done by strangers I know nothing and am not responsible. I desired
nothing save my own deliverance."

Unmoved by Mary's words, the lawyers redoubled their accusations.
They declared again that the murder of the Queen, of her councillors
and principal noblemen, had been determined upon; that the intention
had been to burn down Chartley and kill the guards; that all the
Catholics were to rise and place the Queen of Scots on the throne;
that in Rome Mary was prayed for publicly, as legitimate Queen of
England, together with other things of the same nature. To this Mary
replied as follows:--

"I know nothing of any murder or attempt against any one, nor of
any plot or invasion of the kingdom. As I have already said, I gave
you sufficient warning to beware of some such enterprise, for I was
sure that something was in preparation, though I knew not what. It
was always hidden from me, as it was well known I should not consent
to it, and also because they feared that it would injure me. These
conspirators may have used my name to authorise their proceedings and
strengthen their cause, but there is no letter written or signed by
me; there is no one who has seen such a thing or received it, or who
has communicated or spoken with me, and such a thing has been far
from my intentions.

"You know very well," continued Mary, "that in my own kingdom I
never interfered with any of the Protestants, but, on the contrary,
tried to win them always by gentleness and clemency, which I carried
too far, and for which I have been blamed. It has been the cause of
my ruin, for my subjects became proud and haughty, and abused my
clemency; indeed, they now complain that they were never so well off
as under my government.

"As to Chartley, I never heard of the proposal to burn it, but my
deliverance was promised. If the foreign princes were in league, it
was to free me from my prison, from which I could not escape; and
for the same reason they prepared armed men to receive and defend
me. If the Catholics offered their aid in this matter, which I know
not, it was in their own interest, as they are so wickedly treated,
oppressed, and afflicted in this country that they have fallen into
despair, and would as soon die as live longer under the persecution
which they suffer. You gain nothing by afflicting them or me; I am
but a single person. When I die the Catholics and foreign princes
will continue to act, unless you cease to persecute them.

"As regards my wishing to take the place of the Queen, the very
letters you have read aloud sufficiently prove the contrary. In them
I expressly declare that I desire no honours or kingdom, that I do
not care for them, and that I beg no enterprise of the kind may be
undertaken for me; but for the Catholic cause and for God's quarrel I
desire the deliverance of the first and the defence of the second. In
short, you will find that I have no other desire than the overthrow
of Protestantism and the deliverance of myself and the afflicted
Catholics, for whom (as I have often said) I am ready to shed my
blood. I shall esteem myself very happy if God gives me the grace to
suffer and to endure death for His holy name and in the defence of
His quarrel. If the Pope gives me the title of Queen, it is not for
me to correct him. He knows what he does much better than I do.

"I thank him, all Christian people, and all Catholic nations for the
prayers they daily offer for me, and I pray them to continue to do
so, and to remember me in their masses. As I belong to the number
of the faithful, I hope that though now deprived of the power of
assisting myself, I participate in all the prayers and good works
offered in the Church for all Catholics. As regards the Bull, I
myself offered to prevent its execution."

Burleigh here asked her whether she had the power to do this. "But we
do not care," said he, "about it in England. We make no account of
the Pope, or of such like."

"If you will cease to persecute the Catholics," replied Mary, "I
promise you to do much to lessen the many troubles into which you are
in danger of falling."

To this Burleigh replied that "_no Catholic had been punished for
religion_."

At this assertion the Queen protested in earnest terms against the
many cruelties shown to Catholics. They were driven into exile, she
said, and driven hither and thither. The prisons in England were full
of them. They were charged with being guilty of treason; some because
they would not obey certain of the Queen's injunctions which were
contrary to their conscience, others because they would not recognise
her as the head of the Church. Queen Mary also complained in general
terms of the unjust way in which the present examination had been
conducted, and asked that she might not be further disturbed by the
unnecessary reading of letters and other documents, especially such
as related to her transactions with other Christian princes, to
which she declined to reply.

"If it pleases your Grace," interrupted Burleigh, "you can now
withdraw; we will remain and conclude without you."

The Queen paid no attention to this remark, and the discussions
proceeded. At last Egerton, the Solicitor-General, speaking for the
first time, asked the Queen if she had anything more to add to her
defence.

"I again demand," replied she, "to be heard in full Parliament, and
to confer personally with Queen Elizabeth, who would show more regard
to any other queen." Then rising from her seat[41] to depart, Mary
added:--

"I am ready and willing to give pleasure and do service to the Queen,
my good sister, and to employ myself for her and for the good of the
kingdom in all that I can, as I love both. I protest that after all
that has taken place I desire no evil to any one in this assembly,
that I pardon all that you have said or done against me, and that
there is not one here to whom I do not desire good, and would
willingly give pleasure."

[Footnote 41: See Appendix, p. 271.]

Turning then to a little group of lords, of whom Walsingham was
one, the Queen discussed the conduct of her two secretaries, and
the motives which could have inspired their depositions. Taking
Walsingham apart, Mary said a few words to him in private, which
seemed far from pleasing to him, then turning once more to the
assembly, she exclaimed with dignity, "My lords and gentlemen, my
cause is in the hands of God."

As Mary passed the table at which were seated the lawyers, she also
addressed them: "Gentlemen," said she, with a smile, "you have shown
little mercy in the exercise of your charge, and have treated me
somewhat rudely, the more so as I am one who has little knowledge of
the laws of quibbling; but may God pardon you for it, and keep me
from having to do with you all again."

"The lawyers turned and smiled to each other, and Her Majesty did
likewise."[42]

[Footnote 42: Chantelauze, p. 539.]

After their prisoner had withdrawn, the Commissioners were prepared
to give sentence, but at the last moment Burleigh communicated to
them Elizabeth's latest instructions, contained in a letter sent
from Windsor on the 14th at midnight. In it Elizabeth desired the
assembly, even in the event of the prisoner being found guilty, to
suspend sentence until she herself should hear and consider their
report.

The assembly therefore was prorogued for the space of ten days,
and appointed to meet in the star-chamber at Westminster. The
Commissioners (many of whom regretted this delay in passing sentence)
lost no time in departing, the greater part of them returning to
their houses in the neighbourhood until the 29th instant, when, as
Bourgoing informs us, "it is said they returned to London to assist
at Parliament, then assembling."

Thus terminated a trial which in legal history has probably no
counterpart, and regarding which the following points especially
strike us: the incompetence of the English tribunals, as then
constituted, to judge an independent sovereign; the refusal of
counsel to the prisoner, in violation of the laws of England, and
in especial of the statutes of Mary Tudor, and Elizabeth; the
absence of the witnesses, whose presence in face of the accused was
essential to all just procedure; the forced position of Mary, not
before independent and trustworthy judges, but before Commissioners
carefully chosen beforehand, and who, combining the offices of judge
and jury, united in endeavouring to nullify the defence.

At Fotheringay we find the prisoner standing alone before her judges.
At Westminster the witnesses appear in the absence of the accused,
while at neither is a single original document produced; copies, not
of written letters, but pretended copies from ciphers were admitted
and believed on the faith of men whose confessions were drawn from
them by fear of torture or documents forged by Philipps. Such was the
evidence by which Mary was tried and condemned.




CHAPTER V

SUSPENSE


Although Bourgoing's Journal furnishes us, for the first time, with
some details of the Queen's life during the days following the
conclusion of the trial, it is provokingly silent as to the manner
in which she passed the remainder of the day itself. All he notes
is, that "after supper Sir Amyas sent the copy of her protest to Her
Majesty."

Sir Amyas, we may suppose, spent his evening in congenial company,
for at least one guest of importance remained in the castle. Burleigh
writes to Secretary Davison from Fotheringay on the same evening, and
the following extracts from his letter show the spirit in which he
had carried out his Commission.

"The Queen of the castle," he writes, "was pleased to appear before
us in public, so as to be heard in her own defence; but she only
replied negatively upon the points in the letters regarding the plots
against Her Majesty. She maintained that they had not been written
by her, and that she had never had the smallest knowledge of them. In
the other things with which she was reproached, as her escape from
prison, even by force, and as to the invasion of the kingdom, she
said that she neither denied nor avowed them. But her intention was,
by long and artificial speeches, to excite the pity of the judges,
to throw all the blame upon the person of Her Majesty the Queen, or
rather upon the council, from whom she said all the past troubles
emanated; maintaining that her offers were reasonable, and that the
refusal came from our side. And on this point I fought, and refuted
her arguments in such a manner, by my knowledge and experience, that
she did not have the advantage she had promised herself. I am also
certain that the audience did not think her position worthy of much
pity, her allegations being proved to be untrue."[43]

[Footnote 43: Walsingham, writing upon the same subject to Leicester,
says: "We have received a secret counter-order, and have found
ourselves constrained to adjourn our assembly upon some pretext. This
accused creature seems to have been chosen by God for the punishment
of our sins, as it appears the Queen is powerless to act against her
as her safety demands."--See Hosack, vol. ii. p. 430; also _Letter
Books of Sir Amyas Paulet_, p. 296.]

Knowing Paulet's sympathies to be entirely with Mary's accusers, it
is astonishing to find that his conduct to her at this moment shows
signs of unwonted kindness and consideration. He, says Bourgoing,
"now treated the Queen courteously, furnished her with the necessary
things for her comfort in her lodgings, to which he added the same
hall which had served for the examination, and his conversation with
her was of good manners, and was rather amiable and courteous than
the contrary." Then this faithful servant goes on to tell us how
his mistress comforted herself during the weeks of suspense that
followed. "Her Majesty, during the whole of this time, was far from
being troubled or moved by all that had passed; in fact, I had not
seen her so joyous, nor so constantly at her ease, for the last seven
years. She spoke only on pleasant subjects, and often, in particular,
gave her opinion on some points of the history of England, in the
study of which she passed a good portion of the day; afterwards
discoursing on the subject of her reading with her household, quite
familiarly and joyously, showing no sign of sadness, but with even a
more cheerful countenance than previous to her troubles."[44]

[Footnote 44: Chantelauze, pp. 539, 540.]

Mary had always had a taste for history, and now in the long days of
captivity she seems to have given much of her time to this favourite
study. The history of her own house, as well as that of the English
royal family, must have had a deep and painful interest for her at a
moment when she herself was threatened with a fate as tragic as any
recorded in its darkest pages. In talking over the subject of her
reading Mary would often advert to her own affairs, calmly discussing
the probabilities, and showing that she expected the worst, of
her own life or death, without showing any emotion,--indeed, "her
resolution was that she did not fear to die for her good quarrel,"
adds Bourgoing; and if her people tried to assure her that her death
could never be contemplated, she would say that she knew very well
what would happen. Mary, in fact, perceived plainly the intentions of
her accusers, and not content with her own courageous dispositions,
she took pains to acquire all the bodily strength possible before the
day of trial. In her physician's quaint language, "Her Majesty took
remedies for five or six days to ward off the illness which generally
attacked her at the commencement of winter, and this with as much
willingness and cheerfulness as she ever did before."

Thus the days passed until the Feast of All Saints. As the Queen was
still deprived of her chaplain, she was unable to keep the feast
with the solemnity she would have wished. She passed it, however,
in prayer and in reading the lives of the saints and martyrs. After
dinner, while she was in her oratory, Sir Amyas wished to visit her,
and unwilling to disturb her, "waited till Her Majesty had finished
her prayers;" then, still with unwonted courtesy, he conversed for
a considerable time with her, "as if he had nothing really to say to
her, and hardly knew with what to entertain her." Sir Amyas, however,
had his instructions from Queen Elizabeth, and under semblance of
an ordinary conversation, his object was, if possible, to discover
some sign of weakness or relenting in his prisoner's sentiments.
In this he was disappointed. Mary spoke cheerfully on general
subjects,--about her health, which she said was improved; and about
her reading, which provided her with her chief amusement. Speaking of
the history of England, she observed that in that country blood had
never ceased to flow; to which Paulet replied that it had been the
same in other countries, and that nothing was more necessary when a
state was threatened with serious perils.

Mary, paying no attention to the significance of these words,
alluded to the trial, and said that she had remarked visible signs
of sympathy and compassion on the countenances of several of the
Commissioners, and that she would like to know their names, that she
might always bear them in grateful remembrance.

"Those who accused you and those who kept silence were all actuated
by the same sentiments," retorted Paulet. "Not one of them was
favourable to your cause. I marvel," continued Paulet, "and every one
else is astonished, to see you so calm, under the circumstances in
which you find yourself. No living person has ever been accused of
crimes so frightful and odious as you are."

"I have no occasion to feel troubled or disturbed," rejoined the
Queen; "my conscience is at rest and I have already answered my
accusers. God and I know that I have never attempted nor connived at
the death or murder of any one. My conscience is perfectly free and
clear on this point, and being innocent, I have rather occasion to
rejoice than to be sad, having my confidence in God, the protector of
the innocent."

"It is a great happiness," replied Sir Amyas, "to have a clear
conscience. God is your witness, but a false and dissimulating
conscience is a bad thing; it would be better to confess and repent
before God, and the world, if you are guilty, which is indeed too
evident, the matter having been so well elucidated in your very
presence, as you cannot deny."

"No one can say that he is free from sin," answered the Queen. "I
am a woman and human, and have offended God, and I repent of my
sins, and pray God to forgive me, doing penance for the same; but at
present I do not know to whom I could or should confess--God forbid
that I should ask you to be my confessor. In the present matter I am
not guilty, as you well know, and I cannot therefore confess it. You
will accuse me of what you like, having long had this in view; as I
am a Catholic, you wish to treat me as you do the others. I am quite
prepared and resolved to die for my religion, and ask for nothing
better. I am ready to suffer and endure for the name of God, all
unworthy as I am, as have done many holy saints and martyrs, of whom
I have read to-day, and whose feast we celebrate."

Sir Amyas protested that there was no question of religion, but of
invasion and murder, and that neither Mary nor all the others who
might be implicated in the matter could be excused, but were well
worthy of punishment.

"It is nothing else," returned the Queen, "but it was necessary to
find some other disguise for the measures which had led to this
position; but I shall not fare the worse for that. Do not spare me."

In reply Sir Amyas insisted that it was not for religion, and that no
one had yet been punished for religion. Further he declared that he
knew nothing of what the lords had done, but that they had found the
facts so clear and evident that it was reported that they had given
sentence, but he did not know of it. Nothing was certain. And he
again urged the Queen to confess.

To this Mary rejoined as before, and added that she knew well that
she had been already condemned by her judges before the trial. All
that they did here," continued she, "was merely for form's sake, to
give a colouring of truth to the proceedings, and to gain their ends,
in which I am not bound to acquiesce, and I care nothing for what
they have done; it is very easy for brigands and robbers, when they
are the strongest, to overcome by force those who pass their way. My
enemies keep me in prison, and it is very easy for them to dispose of
me as they will. They have strength on their side, while I am weak
and alone. I would that every one knew how I am treated and how my
affairs are managed."

"You would be very sorry if every one knew," retorted Sir Amyas, "but
a matter of this kind cannot be kept quiet or concealed. No sentence
or judgment had been delivered before the coming of the lords here."

The Queen remarked that she wished all Christian princes and
foreigners could witness how she had been treated, not for her own
sake, but for the confusion of her enemies, and for the sake of those
of the Catholic Church; for her enemies had not ceased to persecute
the poor Catholics, under the pretext that they were traitors because
they would not recognise the Queen of England as supreme head of the
Church. "For myself," continued she, "as I have already declared
before many, I recognise no other head of the Church than the Pope,
to whose rule it was confided by the consent of the whole Church duly
assembled."

Sir Amyas said that the Queen did not take the title of supreme head
of the Church. "God forbid," added he, "that there should be any
other supreme head than Jesus Christ. I recognise no other."

"It is on this point alone that the exclusion of Catholics is
founded," replied Mary, "and it is a well-known fact that, following
the example of Henry the Eighth, this title was given to your
mistress. As you may believe, the Calvinists, who are the most
reformed, do not approve of this, but those who follow the Queen's
religion, who are Lutherans and the inventors of that sect, consider
guilty of high treason all those who deny her prerogatives. Not only
have those been judged to be guilty who do not recognise the Queen's
title, or who deny it by words or by acts, but they have been forced
to declare their opinion on their conscience, and on their reply have
been condemned to death. If the Queen of England may not wish to
accept the title, she at least knows well that it is given to her,
and the person who does not give it is looked upon as guilty."

Sir Amyas, shaking his head ironically, once more protested that his
mistress did not accept such a title, nor was it given to her. He
allowed, however, that the Puritans and others acknowledged her as
"head and governor under God of things ecclesiastical and temporal in
England, as it was reasonable she should be, but not as supreme head
of the Church."

"It all comes to the same thing," returned the Queen, "whatever
colour you may give it, and for the rest, I care nothing for your
sentences; go, proceed as you like. I know at your age you would not
assert such things unless you were backed by others."[45]

[Footnote 45: The Queen's words in the original French are too
expressive to be omitted: "Sa Majesté dict que c'estoit manteau
blanc, ou blanc manteau--mais qu'enfin estoit tout ung, quelque
coulleur qu'ils luy en baillassent."--Chantelauze, pp. 540-545.]

"Sir Amyas pretended that this was not so, and reassured the Queen as
well as he was able," says Bourgoing, "and on his departure we formed
the opinion from certain conjectures, that he was going to write Her
Majesty's replies to the Court." We find him accordingly writing to
Walsingham as follows:--

"I took occasion yesterday, after one, accompanied by Mr. Stallenge,
to visit the Queen.... I see no change in her, from her former
quietness and serenity, certified in my last letters.... I tarried
with her one hour and a half at the least; which I did on purpose
to feel her disposition, and moving no new matter myself, suffered
her to go from matter to matter at her pleasure.... This only thing
I thought good to signify unto you that, falling in talk of the
late assembly here, and having glanced at the Lord Zouch for his
speech in the star-chamber, and also at the Lord Morley for some
things delivered by him to the lords sitting next unto him, which
she said she overheard and told him of it in the open assembly, she
was curious to be informed of the names of one such sitting in such
a place, and of others sitting in other places, saying that one had
said little, another somewhat more, and others very much. I told her
that I might easily perceive, by her hard conceit of the lords which
she had named already, she was much inclined to think ill of all
those that spake, and therefore I would forbear to name any man unto
her; praying her to conceive honourably of the whole assembly, and to
think that those which spake, and the rest which were silent, were of
one consent and mind to hear her cause with all indifference."[46]

[Footnote 46: _Letter Books of Sir Amyas Paulet_, pp. 300, 301.]

That Paulet dreaded his interviews with Mary, and tried to evade them
as far as possible, we have his own evidence. "I pray you," he writes
to Walsingham on the same day, "let me hear from you whether it is
expected that I should see my charge often, which, as I do not desire
to do, so I do not see that any good can come of it, so long as I
stand assured that she is forthcoming."

That his prisoner might be the more securely "forthcoming," extra
precautions had been taken, and that in a manner which appears to
have deceived even Bourgoing himself, for he notes, quite gratefully,
that Sir Amyas had closed and restored the Queen's large room for the
"safety of Her Majesty and her convenience."

On 13th November Sir Drue Drury arrived to take the place of
Stallenge in assisting Paulet in his charge; and some days later
Lord Buckhurst, the bearer of fatal tidings, reached the castle.
To understand his mission we must consider what had taken place
meanwhile in London.

On 25th October the Commissioners had met in the star-chamber at
Westminster. At this time the two important witnesses, Nau and Curle,
were produced.

The reports of the meeting are very scanty, but apparently the
witnesses were asked no questions; they are merely said to have
affirmed on oath certain confessions and declarations, of which
neither the originals nor copies are preserved. Curle is also
supposed to have affirmed "that as well the letter which Babington
did write to the Scots queen, as the draughts of her answer to the
same were both burned at her command."

This declaration, which, if true, was of the utmost importance,
was made on this occasion only, and in the absence of the accused.
The Commissioners found Mary guilty, not of certain matters with
which Lord Burleigh had charged her, but for having "compassed and
imagined since the 1st of June aforesaid divers matters tending to
the hurt, death, and destruction of the Queen of England." One man
alone had the courage to assert his belief in Mary's innocence. Lord
Zouch declared that he was not satisfied that "she had compassed,
practised, or imagined the death of the Queen of England."

The Commissioners added a clause to the effect that the King of Scots
should not be held responsible for his mother's crimes. "The said
sentence," added they, "did derogate nothing from James, King of
Scots, in title or honour, but that he was the same in place, degree,
and right as if the same sentence had never been pronounced."

A few days later both Houses of Parliament presented an address to
Elizabeth, praying for execution of the sentence against the Queen of
Scots.[47] "We cannot find," said they, "that there is any possible
means of providing for your Majesty's safety but by the just and
speedy execution of the said Queen; the neglecting whereof may
procure the heavy displeasure and punishment of Almighty God, as by
sundry severe examples of His great justice in that behalf left us in
the sacred Scriptures does appear," etc.

[Footnote 47: "Parlt. has pressed E. to proceed to the execution,
adding thereto that the forbearing thereof was, and would be daily,
a certain and undoubted danger not only to her own life but to
themselves, their posterity and the public state of this realm,
as well for the cause of the Gospel and the true religion of
Christ, as for the peace of the whole realm. Greenwich, 1 Feb., 29
Eliz."--Yelverton MSS., f. 534.]

To this appeal Elizabeth made a very clever reply, beginning thus:--

"Though my life hath been dangerously shot at, yet I protest there
is nothing hath more grieved me than that one not differing from me
in sex, of like rank, and degree, of the same stock, and most nearly
allied to me in blood, hath fallen into so great a crime." She goes
on to say that if her cousin would even now truly repent, and if
her own life alone, and not the good of England, were at stake, she
would most willingly pardon Mary. She concludes by saying that in a
matter of so great importance a speedy decision cannot be looked for,
as it is her custom to deliberate long, even in matters which are
unimportant as compared with this.

At the end of twelve days Elizabeth sent a message to both Houses of
Parliament, begging them to reconsider the matter, and "to devise
some better remedy, whereby both the Queen of Scots' life might be
spared and her own security provided for."[48]

[Footnote 48: Hosack, pp. 430-433.]

After fresh and earnest consultation, both Houses declared that
Mary's death was essential to the safety of the kingdom, and the
declaration thus concludes:--

"Therefore we pray your Majesty, for the cause of God, of His Church,
this realm, ourselves, and yourself, that you will no longer be
careless of your life and of our safety, nor longer suffer religion
to be threatened, the realm to stand in danger, nor us to dwell in
fear."

Elizabeth again made an ambiguous reply. From her subsequent conduct,
however, we may judge that she had probably already determined to
take Mary's life, although as to the time and place she was still
undecided.

In the meantime Lord Buckhurst, together with Beale, Clerk of the
Council, proceeded to Fotheringay to announce to the Queen of Scots
that sentence of death had been pronounced against her in the
star-chamber.

Lord Buckhurst had been carefully chosen for this mission. To
much talent of a high order he united a moderation of views and a
charm of manners calculated to inspire confidence. Nor was he a
stranger to Mary; he had already been sent to treat with her on
several occasions, and from the fact of his absence at the trial,
we may suspect that his dispositions in her regard were friendly.
If so, the undertaking now before him was doubly painful, for the
announcement of the sentence of death was to be but a part of his
duty.

Elizabeth still cherished the hope of extracting some confession or
revelation from Mary; accordingly Lord Buckhurst was charged to be on
the watch for any such revelation, to listen attentively to whatever
the Queen of Scots might divulge, and to report such immediately to
his mistress. Special instructions were sent at the same time to
Paulet to lend his assistance to Lord Buckhurst, particularly should
his prisoner consent to reveal any secret matter.

Lord Buckhurst reached the castle on the evening of the 29th of
November, and after a conference with Paulet he returned to the
village for the night.

On the following day, "after dinner," he, together with Paulet, Sir
Drue Drury, and Beale, had an interview with Mary.

Lord Buckhurst announced himself as an envoy from his sovereign, and
begged permission to deliver his message.

He then proceeded to recapitulate the events of the trial and its
issue, proceeding to enlarge upon Elizabeth's sorrow at discovering
that Mary had been proved to be "not only consenting to the horrible
fact of rebellion in the country against her person and state,
but also the author and inventor of it." For this reason, after
much deliberation, Parliament had pronounced sentence of death
against her. Buckhurst remarked that his mistress had not yet given
her consent to this measure, but added that, urged as she was by
Parliament, it was impossible she should not yield. "The person of
the Queen, the state and religion are no longer safe," he continued;
"it is impossible for you both to live, and therefore one must
die. For this end then, in order that you should not be taken by
surprise, Mr. Beale and I have been sent to warn you to prepare for
death, and we will send you the Bishop of Peterborough or the Dean
of ----[49] for your consolation; they both are men of learning and
understanding. Take thought of your conscience and acknowledge your
fault, repent and make satisfaction before God and man. If you know
anything concerning this conspiracy further than what has already
come to light, you are bound in Christian charity to unburden your
conscience; being, as you yourself say, nearly related to the Queen,
to whom also you are indebted for many favours. And if you know of
any other persons who have taken part in this undertaking, it is your
duty to declare it before your death."

[Footnote 49: Bourgoing omits to give the Dean's name.]

"I expected nothing else," replied Mary calmly. "This is the manner
in which you generally proceed with regard to persons of my quality,
and who are nearly related to the Crown, so that none may live who
aspire to it. For long I have known that you would bring me to this
in the end. I have loved the Queen and the country, and have done
all that I could for the preservation of both. The offers which I
have made are the proof of this, as Beale can bear me witness. I do
not fear death, and shall suffer it with a good heart. I have never
been the author of any conspiracy to injure the Queen. I have several
times been offered my freedom, and have been blamed for refusing my
consent. My partisans have abandoned me and troubled themselves no
further with my affairs. To prevent this I have attempted to obtain
my deliverance by gentle means, to my great disadvantage, till at
last, being repulsed on one side and pressed on the other, I placed
myself in the hands of my friends, and have taken part with Christian
and Catholic princes, not, as I have before declared, and as the
English themselves can bear witness by the papers which they have
in their possession, through ambition nor the desire of a greater
position; but I have done it for the honour of God and His Church,
and for my deliverance from the state of captivity and misery in
which I was placed. I am a Catholic,--of a different religion from
yourselves; and for this reason you will take care not to let me
live. I am grieved that my death cannot be of as much benefit to
the kingdom as I fear it will do it harm; and this I say not from
any ill-feeling or from any desire to live. For my part, I am weary
of being in this world; nor do I, or any one else, profit by my
being here. But I look forward to a better life, and I thank God
for giving me this grace of dying in His quarrel. No greater good
can come to me in this world; it is what I have most begged of God
and most wished for, as being the thing most honourable for myself
and most profitable for the salvation of my soul. I have never had
the intention of changing my religion for any earthly kingdom, or
grandeur, or good, whatever, nor of denying Jesus Christ or His name,
nor will I now. You may feel well assured that I shall die in this
entire faith and with my goodwill, and as happy in doing so as I was
ever for anything that has come to me in my life. I pray God to have
mercy on the poor Catholics of this kingdom, who are persecuted and
oppressed for their religion. The only thing I regret is, that it has
not pleased God to give me before I die the grace to see them able
to live in full liberty of conscience in the faith of their parents,
in the Catholic Church, and serving God as they desire to do. I
am not ignorant that for long certain persons have been plotting
against me; and to speak plainly, I know well it has been done at
the instance of one who professes to be my enemy. But I have spoken
sufficiently of this before the Commissioners."

To this Lord Buckhurst replied that the person here alluded to had
not mixed himself up in the matter more specially than the rest had
done, and that he was esteemed a very good and faithful servant. He
did not think that this person, nor even the greatest in the kingdom,
had any special power to do anything either for her or against her,
unless they were assembled in council.

Here Mr. Beale began to speak, and said that on his part he had
somewhat to say to the Queen of Scots regarding the treaties and
other matters which had occurred since she came into England, in
which proceedings she had given trouble. On these points he could
speak as having knowledge of what had occurred, having been employed
in some of them as envoy between his mistress and Queen Mary. He then
spoke of her taking refuge in England, asserting that his mistress
had taken care of her and had caused her to be well received and
treated, and had appeased her Scottish subjects who had sought
to pursue her. Seeing Queen Mary's danger, his mistress had even
arranged for her to retire to Carlisle, to be in greater safety.

"I was taken there by force and against my will," exclaimed Mary.

"It was for your good," retorted Beale.[50]

[Footnote 50: Chantelauze, pp. 548-550.]

Lord Buckhurst and Beale now retired, nor does the former appear to
have seen Mary again.

The Queen herself describes this interview in her correspondence, and
we here give the passages that occur in her letter to the Archbishop
of Glasgow, dated the 24th November:--[51]

     "You would find this language strange were you not informed
     that it has been signified to me by the mouth of Lord
     Buckhurst, Amyas Paulet, my great promoter, one Drew Drury,
     Knight, and Mr. Beale, that the assembly of the states of
     this country have condemned me to death. This they have
     announced to me on the part of their Queen, exhorting me
     to confess and acknowledge to her my offences. For this
     end and to incite me to die well and patiently, and to
     discharge my conscience, she proposed to send me a bishop
     and a dean. She also says that the occasion of this my
     death is the instant request made to her by her people,
     who, considering that I am still alive, and being her
     rival, as it appears by my having some time ago taken
     the name and arms belonging to this Crown (and not being
     prepared to renounce them, unless with the condition of
     being declared to be next in the succession to the throne),
     she cannot live in safety in her kingdom. Seeing even that
     all the Catholics call me their sovereign, and that her
     life has been so often attempted to this end, and that, so
     long as I live, her religion cannot safely exist in this
     kingdom.

     I thanked God and them for the honour they did me in
     considering me to be such a necessary instrument for the
     re-establishment of religion in this island, of which,
     although unworthy, I desired to take it upon myself to be
     a very pressing and zealous defender. In confirmation of
     all this, as I had before protested, I offered willingly to
     shed my blood in the quarrel of the Catholic Church; and
     moreover, even, if the people thought that my life could
     serve for the good and public peace of this island, I would
     not refuse to give it to them (freely) in reward for the
     twenty years they have detained me in prison.

     As to their bishops, I praise God that without their aid I
     know well enough my offences against God and His Church,
     and that I do not approve their errors, nor wish to
     communicate with them in any way. But if it pleased them to
     permit me to have a Catholic priest, I said I would accept
     that very willingly, and even demanded it in the name of
     Jesus Christ, in order to dispose my conscience, and to
     participate in the Holy Sacraments, on leaving this world.

     They answered me that, do what I would, I should not be
     either saint or martyr, as I was to die for the murder of
     their Queen and for wishing to dispossess her. I replied
     that I was not so presumptuous as to aspire to these two
     honours; but that although they had power over my body by
     divine permission, not by justice, as I am a sovereign
     queen, as I have always protested, still they had not power
     over my soul, nor could they prevent me from hoping that
     through the mercy of God, who died for me, He will accept
     from me my blood and my life, which I offer to Him for the
     maintenance of His Church, outside of which I should never
     desire to rule any worldly kingdom, thereby risking the
     eternal kingdom either here or elsewhere; and I shall beg
     of Him that the sorrow and other persecutions of body and
     mind which I suffer, may weigh against my sins. But to have
     contrived, counselled, or commanded Elizabeth's death, that
     I have never done, nor would I suffer, for my own account,
     that one single _blow_ should be given to her.

     Elizabeth's emissaries rejoined, 'You have counselled and
     allowed that the English should name you their Sovereign,
     as appears by the letters of Allen, Lewis, and several
     others; and this you have not contradicted.'

     To this I replied that I had taken nothing upon myself in
     my letters, but that it was not my province to prevent the
     Doctor and persons of the Church from naming me as they
     pleased. This was not my province, since I was under the
     obedience of the Church to approve what she decrees, and
     not to correct her; and I said the same in regard to His
     Holiness, if (as they declared) he caused me to be prayed
     for everywhere under a title of which I was ignorant. In
     any case I wished to die and to obey the Church, but not to
     murder any one in order to possess his rights; but in all
     this I saw clearly portrayed Saul's persecutions of David,
     yet I cannot escape as he did, by the window, but it may be
     that from the shedding of my blood protectors may arise for
     the sufferers in this universal quarrel."

[Footnote 51: Labanoff, vi. 466.]

After reading these words, which bear the vivid impress of Mary's
steadfast faith, we are not surprised to hear that during her talk
with Lord Buckhurst her face was illumined with an extraordinary joy
at the thought that God had done her the honour to choose her as the
instrument for the defence of the Catholic faith;[52] and we may
imagine that Lord Buckhurst was capable of admiring, although he may
not have sympathised with, her sentiments. Paulet took different
views, and in a letter to Walsingham, in which he refers to the
Queen's "superfluous and idle speeches on other occasions," he
adds, "I am deceived if my Lord of Buckhurst will not give the same
testimony of her tediousness."[53]

[Footnote 52: Camden, ii.]

[Footnote 53: _Letter Books_, p. 311.]




CHAPTER VI

AFTER THE SENTENCE


Lord Buckhurst left Fotheringay on the 21st November, and the same
day brought a fresh trial to the Queen,--one which his presence would
probably have averted. Paulet, accompanied by Sir Drew Drury, who,
although, according to the Queen, "far more modest and gracious," did
not oppose his colleague's proceedings, waited on Mary, and Paulet
told her that as she had shown no signs of repentance for her faults,
their Queen had commanded that her dais with the royal arms, the
emblem of her sovereignty, should be taken down, "because," continued
he, "you are now only a dead woman, without the dignity or honours of
a queen."

"God of His grace called me to this dignity," replied Mary; "I have
been anointed and consecrated such. From Him alone I hold this rank,
and to Him alone I shall return it, with my soul. I do not recognise
your Queen as my superior, nor her heretical council and assembly
as my judges, and I shall die a queen in spite of them. They have
no more power over me than robbers at the corner of a wood might
have over the most just prince or judge in the world; but I hope
that God will manifest His justice in this kingdom after my death.
The kings of this country have often been murdered, and it will not
seem strange to me to be among them and those of their blood. It was
in this way that King Richard was treated to dispossess him of his
rights."[54]

[Footnote 54: See Labanoff, vi. 466. "When the So. Q.'s cloth of
Estate was plucked down by Sir A. Paulet and Sir D. Drury, after
signification given unto her to prepare herself to die by the L.
Buckhurst and R.B., she mentioned the murder of K. Richard II., but
Sir Drue answered that she needed not to fear it, for that she was in
the charge of a Christian gentleman."--Note by Beale, Yelverton MSS.,
p. 529.]

At these words Paulet ordered the Queen's attendants to remove the
dais, but they utterly refused to have any hand in the outrage
offered to their mistress, calling aloud for vengeance on him and
Drury. Paulet was obliged therefore to send for his soldiers,
and caused the dais to be thrown on the floor. He now sat down
in the Queen's presence with his head covered, and ordered the
billiard-table to be removed, saying to the Queen, "This is no time
for you to indulge in exercise or amusement."[55]

[Footnote 55: A sad office was reserved for the cover of this table;
it was afterwards used to enshroud the body of the Queen after her
execution, as we may see by the following passage from Brantôme:
"Immediately after the execution, when the headsman had despoiled
Mary's corpse, it was carried into a room adjoining that in which
her maids of honour were confined; and they, looking through a
crevice, saw the body of their mistress half covered by a piece
of rough woollen stuff, which had been hastily taken from the
billiard-table."]

"Thanks be to God, I have never made use of it since it was put up,"
replied Mary, "for you have kept me sufficiently employed in other
ways."

Paulet's account of this scene differs in some important particulars
from that of the Queen. In fact, he seems to have gone beyond his
instructions; and to explain and vindicate his conduct, he writes at
length to Secretary Davison to the following effect. "He had been
given to understand," he says, "by a late letter from some friend
about the court, of Her Majesty's mislike that this lady (Queen Mary)
did enjoy her cloth of estate." He adds that in ordering this removal
he used "all possible moderation," and declares, in contradiction to
Mary, that she sent for the yeoman of her wardrobe and asked him to
take down the dais. He maintains a discreet silence regarding his
own personal rudeness in covering himself and sitting down in Mary's
presence; nor does he allude to the removal of the billiard-table.[56]

[Footnote 56: _Letter Books_, p. 315.]

On the following day Mary received a fresh visit from Paulet and
Drury. Paulet, fearing, no doubt, the effects of his violence,
came to assure her that he had not taken down her dais by order
of Elizabeth, but by that of some members of the council; and he
offered to write to his mistress for leave to re-erect it. In reply
Mary contented herself with showing him a crucifix, which she had
placed in the spot formerly occupied by the dais and her arms. Paulet
then told her that the request which she had made through Lord
Buckhurst had been submitted to the Queen, and that she would receive
the answer in a day or two.

"My requests were not so numerous," rejoined the Queen, "and can be
speedily answered, and I presented them only in order that (after
settling the fate of my attendants) I might have more time to give to
God."

"Your object was praiseworthy, and you will have a prompt reply,"
said Paulet; "if you had been as well disposed to reveal certain
things to Her Majesty as you were to make requests, Lord Buckhurst
would have presented them much more willingly."

"This gentleman was a relative of your mistress, and sent by her on
that account," returned Mary, "and I confided to him what I thought
desirable."

Paulet remarked that he only spoke of this to remind her that she
might have sent a letter through Lord Buckhurst.

"Before things were so advanced," said Mary, "I should have wished
to write, but now being condemned, I have other subjects of greater
moment to think of; I have to prepare myself for a better life in
another world."[57]

[Footnote 57: Chantelauze, pp. 293-295.]

"And hereupon," records the pitiless jailer, "she fell into a large
discourse on the mercies of God towards her, and of her preparation
for death, and into many other impertinent speeches not worthy to be
recited. I omit some other talk which passed between her and me, upon
this ground tending only to the benefit of her soul and the discharge
of my conscience. And thus I departed from her, having endeavoured
myself, according to your direction, to solve the two faults
mentioned in your letters in as clear a manner as I could, without
giving her cause to think that I came to her to that purpose."[58]

[Footnote 58: Paulet to Mr. Secretary Davison, 28th November 1586.
See _Letter Books_, p. 319.]

The "second fault" alluded to by Paulet, and which had brought down
upon him Elizabeth's displeasure, lay in the fact that he had not
sufficiently "entertained" Mary "in the desire she had to write unto
Her Majesty." Paulet considered that he could not press the matter
without a special order to that effect; he was, we know by his own
words, "always very curious and precise to be warranted in all his
proceedings."

After Lord Buckhurst's departure Mary naturally concluded that her
hours were numbered, little thinking that two months of suspense lay
before her. On the day on which the foregoing interview took place
the noise of workmen in her dining-room led the Queen to think that
the scaffold for her execution was even then in process of erection.
Under this impression she called her attendants round her and made
a declaration that she died a faithful Catholic, and that she was
entirely innocent of the crimes of which she was accused. She made
them swear to bear witness for her to all the persons she mentioned
to them, and to each she assigned the mission he should fulfil after
her death.

Although her right hand was much crippled by rheumatism, Mary now
passed two days in writing farewell letters to her most faithful
friends, which she confided to her chaplain and servants, to be
delivered after her death.[59]

[Footnote 59: In consequence of the delays by which the members of
Mary's household were kept in a state of quasi-imprisonment for
months after their mistress's execution, these letters only reached
their destination in the course of the following autumn.]

There are in all four of these letters, including that to the
Archbishop of Glasgow already quoted, and we give the remaining three
in their integrity, in the certainty that no description of the
Queen's sentiments at this time can be as true or touching as her own
words.


     LETTER TO POPE SIXTUS V.[60]

     [Footnote 60: Labanoff, vi. 447.]

     _Jesus Maria_

     HOLY FATHER--As it has pleased God by His divine
     providence so to ordain, that in His Church under His
     Son Jesus Christ crucified, all those who should believe
     in Him and be baptized in the name of the Holy Trinity,
     should recognise one universal and Catholic Church as
     Mother, whose commandments together with the ten of the Law
     we should keep under pain of damnation, it is requisite
     that each one who aspires to eternal life should fix his
     eyes upon her. I, therefore, who am born of kings and
     relatives all baptized in her, as I myself also was, and
     what is more, from my infancy, unworthy as I am, have been
     called to the royal dignity--anointed and consecrated by
     the authority and by the ministers of the Church, under
     whose wing and in whose bosom I have been nourished and
     brought up--and by her instructed in the obedience due by
     all Christians to him whom she, guided by the Holy Spirit,
     has elected according to the ancient order and decrees of
     the primitive Church, to the holy Apostolic See as our
     head upon earth, to whom Jesus Christ in His last will has
     given power (speaking to St. Peter of her foundation on
     a living rock) of binding and loosing poor sinners from
     the chains of Satan, absolving us by himself or by his
     ministers for this purpose appointed, of all crimes and
     sins committed or perpetrated by us, we being repentant,
     and as far as in us lies, making satisfaction for them
     after having confessed them according to the ordinance
     of the Church. I call my Saviour Jesus Christ to be my
     witness, the blessed Trinity, the glorious Virgin Mary,
     all the angels and archangels, St. Peter, the pastor, my
     special intercessor and advocate, St. Paul, Apostle of
     the Gentiles, St. Andrew and all the holy apostles, St.
     George, and in general all the saints of Paradise,--that
     I have always lived in this faith, which is that of the
     universal Church Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman, in which
     being regenerated, I have always had the intention of doing
     my duty to the holy Apostolic See. Of this, to my great
     regret, I have not been able to render due testimony to
     your Holiness, on account both of my detention in this
     captivity and my long illness, but now that it has pleased
     God, my Holy Father, to permit for my sins and those of
     this unfortunate island, that I (the only one remaining
     of the blood of England and Scotland who makes profession
     of this faith) should, after twenty years of captivity,
     shut up in a narrow prison and at last condemned to die
     by the heretical States and Assembly of this country, as
     it has been to-day signified to me by the mouth of Lord
     Buckhurst, Amias Paulet my keeper, one Drew Drury, knight,
     and a secretary named Beale, in the name of their Queen,
     commanding me to prepare to receive death, offering me one
     of their bishops and a dean for my consolation (a priest
     that I had having been taken from me long before by them,
     and held by them I know not where); I have thought it to
     be my first duty to turn me to God, and then to relate
     the whole to your Holiness in writing, to the end that
     although I cannot let you hear it before my death, at least
     afterwards, the cause of it should be made manifest to
     you, which is, all things well considered and examined,
     their dread of the subversion of their religion in this
     island, which they say I plan, and which is attempted for
     my sake, as well by those of their own subjects who obey
     your laws and are their declared enemies [and who cause
     me to be prayed for as their sovereign in their churches,
     whose priests profess duty and subjection to me], as by
     strangers, and specially by the Catholic princes and my
     relations, who all (so they say) maintain my right to the
     crown of England. I leave it to your Holiness to consider
     the consequence of such a sentence, imploring you to have
     prayers made for my poor soul--and for all those who have
     died, or will die, in the same cause and the like sentence,
     and even in honour of God. I beg you to give your alms and
     incite the kings to do likewise to those who shall survive
     this shipwreck. And my intention being, according to the
     constitutions of the Church, to confess, do penance as far
     as in me lies, and receive my Viaticum, if I can obtain my
     chaplain, or some other legitimate minister, to administer
     to me my said Sacraments; in default of this, with contrite
     and repentant heart I prostrate myself at your Holiness'
     feet, confessing myself to God and to His saints, and to
     the same Your Paternity, as a very unworthy sinner and one
     meriting eternal damnation, unless it pleases the good God
     who died for sinners to receive me in His infinite mercy
     among the number of poor penitent sinners trusting in His
     mercy--imploring you to take this my general confession
     in testimony of my intention to accomplish the remainder
     in the form ordained and commanded in the Church, if it
     is permitted me, and to give me your general absolution
     according as you know and think to be requisite for the
     glory of God, the honour of His Church, and the salvation
     of my poor soul, between which and the justice of God I
     interpose the blood of Jesus Christ, crucified for me
     and all sinners, one of the most execrable among whom I
     confess myself to be, seeing the infinite graces I have
     received through Him, and which I have so little recognised
     and employed; the which would render me unworthy of
     forgiveness, if His promise made to all those who burdened
     with sins and spiritual woes (coming to Him) to be assisted
     by Him, and His mercy did not encourage me, following His
     commandment to come to Him, bearing my burden in order to
     be relieved by Him of it like the prodigal son, and, what
     is more, offering my blood willingly at the foot of His
     cross for the unwearied and faithful zeal which I bear to
     His Church; without the restoration of which I desire never
     to live in this unhappy world.

     And further, Holy Father, having left myself no goods in
     this world, I supplicate your Holiness to obtain from the
     very Christian King that my dowry should be charged with
     the payment of my debts, and the wages of my poor desolate
     servants, and with an annual obit for my soul and those of
     all our brothers departed in this just quarrel, having had
     no other private intention, as my poor servants, present at
     this my affliction, will testify to you; as likewise, how I
     have willingly offered my life in their heretical Assembly
     to maintain my Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman religion, and
     to bring back those of this island who have ignorantly gone
     astray (to wit, themselves); protesting that in this case I
     would willingly deprive myself of all the title and dignity
     of a queen, and do all honour and service to theirs, if she
     would cease to persecute the Catholics; as I protest that
     that is the end at which I have aimed since I have been in
     this country, and I have no ambition nor desire to reign,
     nor to dispossess any other for my own personal advantage,
     as by illness and by long afflictions I am so weakened
     that I have no longer any desire to trouble myself in this
     world except with the service of His Church, and to gain
     the souls of this island to God; in testimony of which, at
     my end, I do not wish to falter in preferring the public
     salvation to the personal interests of flesh and blood,
     which cause me to pray you,--with a mortal regret for the
     perdition of my poor child, after having tried by all means
     to regain him,--to be a true father to him, as St. John
     the Evangelist was to the youth whom he withdrew from the
     company of robbers; to take, in short, all the authority
     over him that I can give you to constrain him, and if it
     please you to call upon the Catholic King to assist you
     in what touches temporal matters, and especially that you
     two may together try to ally him in marriage. And if God,
     for my sins, permit that he should remain obstinate, I
     knowing no Christian prince in these times who works so
     much for the faith, or who has so many means to aid him in
     the bringing back of this island, as the Catholic King, to
     whom I am much indebted and obliged, being the only one who
     aided me with his money and advice in my needs, I, subject
     to your good pleasure, leave him all that I can have of
     power or interest in the government of this kingdom if
     my son obstinately remains outside the Church. But if he
     finds he can bring him back, I desire he shall be aided,
     supported, and advised by him (the King of Spain) and my
     relations of Guise, enjoining him by my last will to hold
     them, after you, as his fathers, and to ally himself by
     their advice and consent, or in one of their two houses.
     And if it pleased God, I would he were worthy to be a son
     of the Catholic King. This is the secret of my heart and
     the end of my desires in this world, tending as I mean
     them, to the good of His Church and to the discharge of my
     conscience, which I present at the feet of your Holiness,
     which I may humbly kiss.

     You shall have the true account of the manner of my last
     taking, and all the proceedings against me, and by me, to
     the end that, hearing the truth, the calumnies which the
     enemies of the Church wish to lay upon me may be refuted
     by you and the truth known, and to this effect I have sent
     to you this bearer, requesting your holy blessing for the
     end, and saying to you for the last time _à Dieu_.[61] Whom
     I pray in His grace to preserve your person for long, for
     the good of His Church and your sorrowful flock, especially
     that of this island, which I leave very much astray,
     without the mercy of God and without your paternal care.

     FOTHERINGAY, _23rd November 1586_.

     [Footnote 61: This passage, we believe, refers to
     Bourgoing, as before stated.]

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY _this 24th of November 1586._

     Excuse my writing, caused by the weakness of my arm. I
     hear, to my great regret, bad rumours of some persons near
     to your Holiness who they say receive wages from this state
     to betray the cause of God, and there are cardinals mixed
     up in it. I leave it to your Holiness to make examination
     and to have your eye on a certain Lord de Saint-Jean, much
     suspected of being a spy of the High Treasurer.[62] These
     are false brethren, and I will answer for it, that those
     who have been recommended to you by me are quite otherwise.

     Of your Holiness the very humble and devoted daughter,

     MARIE,
     QUEEN OF SCOTLAND, DOWAGER OF FRANCE.

[Footnote 62: Burleigh.]


     TO DON BERNARD DE MENDOÇA.[63]

     [Footnote 63: Labanoff, vi. 456.]

     MY VERY DEAR FRIEND--As I have always known you
     to be zealous in God's cause, and interested in my welfare
     and my deliverance from captivity, I have likewise also
     always made you a sharer in all my intentions for the same
     cause, begging you to signify them to the King, Monsieur
     my good brother, for which at present, according to the
     little leisure I have, I have wished to send you this last
     Adieu, being resolved to receive the death-stroke which was
     announced to me last Saturday.

     I know not when, nor in what manner, but at least you can
     feel assured and praise God for me that, by His grace, I
     had the _courage_ to receive this very unjust sentence
     of the heretics with contentment for the honour which I
     esteem it to be to me to shed my blood at the demand of the
     enemies of His Church; whilst they honour me so much as
     to say that theirs cannot exist if I live; and the other
     point (they affirm to be) that their Queen cannot reign in
     security--for the same reason. In both these "conditions"
     I, without contradicting them, accepted the honour they
     were so anxious to confer upon me, as very zealous in the
     Catholic religion, for which I had publicly offered my
     life; and as to the other matter, although I had made no
     attempt nor taken any action to remove her who was in the
     place, still as they reproached me with what is my right,
     and is so considered by all Catholics, as they say, I did
     not wish to contradict them, leaving it to them to judge.
     But they, becoming angry in consequence of this, told me
     that, do what I would, I should not die for religion, but
     for having wished to have their Queen murdered, which I
     denied to them as being very false, as I never attempted
     anything of the kind--but left it to God and the Church to
     settle everything for this island regarding religion and
     what depends upon it.

     This bearer[64] has promised me to relate to you how
     rigorously I have been treated by this people, and ill
     served by others, who I could wish had not so much shewn
     their fear of death in so just a quarrel--or their
     inordinate passions. Whereas from me they only obtained the
     avowal that I was a free queen, Catholic, obedient to the
     Church, and that for my deliverance I was obliged,--having
     tried for it by good means, without being able to obtain
     it--to procure it by the means which were offered to me,
     without approving (to all the means employed).

     [Footnote 64: The person referred to appears to have
     been Pierre Gorion, who took the letter to Mendoça, and
     presented him likewise with an interesting memoir of his
     mistress. See Teulet, vi. 500.]

     Nau has confessed all, Curle following his example; and all
     is thrown upon me. They threaten me if I do not ask for
     pardon, but I say, that as they have already destined me to
     death, they may proceed in their injustice, hoping that God
     will recompense me in the other world. And through spite,
     because I will not thus confess, they came the day before
     yesterday, Monday, to remove my dais, saying that I was no
     longer anything but a dead woman without any dignity.

     They are working in my hall; I think they are making a
     scaffold to make me play the last scene of the Tragedy.
     I die in a good quarrel, and happy at having given up my
     rights to the King your Master. I have said that if my
     son does not return to the bosom of the Church, I confess
     I know no prince more worthy, or more suitable for the
     protection of this island. I have written as much to His
     Holiness, and I beg you to certify to him that I die in
     this same wish, that I have written to you, and to him
     (you) know who is his near relative and old friend, and to
     a fourth, who above all others I leave under the protection
     of the King, and require him, in the name of God, not to
     abandon them; and I beg them to serve him in my place. I
     cannot write to them. Salute them from me, and all of you
     pray God for my soul.

     I have asked for a priest, but do not know if I shall
     have one; they offered me one of their bishops. I utterly
     refused him. Believe what this bearer tells you, and these
     two poor women who have been the nearest to me. They will
     tell you the truth.[65] I beg of you to publish it, as
     I fear others will make it sound quite differently. Give
     orders that payment should be made where you know of, for
     the discharge of my conscience; and may the churches of
     Spain keep me in remembrance in their prayers. Keep this
     bearer's secret; he has been a faithful valet to me.

     [Footnote 65: Elizabeth Curle and Jane Kennedy.]

     May God give you a long and happy life. You will receive a
     token from me, of a diamond, which I valued as being that
     with which the late Duke of Norfolk pledged me his faith,
     and which I have nearly always worn. Keep it for love of
     me. I do not know if I shall be allowed to make a will.
     I have asked for leave, but they have all my money. God
     be with you. Forgive me if I write with pain and trouble,
     having not even one solitary person to aid me to make my
     rough copies and to write from my dictation. If you cannot
     read my handwriting this bearer will read it to you,
     or my Ambassador, who is familiar with it. Among other
     accusations Criton's is one about which I know nothing.
     I fear much that Nau and Pasquier have much hastened my
     death, for they had kept some papers, and also they are
     people who wish to live in both worlds, if they can have
     their commodities. I would to God that Fontenay had been
     here; he is a young man of strong resolution and knowledge.
     Adieu.

     Once more I recommend to you my poor destitute servants,
     and beg you to pray for my soul.

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY _this Wednesday the 23rd of
     November._

     I recommend to you the poor Bishop of Ross, who will be
     quite destitute.--Your much obliged and perfect friend,

     MARIE R.


     TO THE DUKE OF GUISE

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY _the 24th of November._[66]

     [Footnote 66: Labanoff, vol. vi. p. 461.]

     MY GOOD COUSIN--You whom I hold as dearest to me
     in the world, I bid you adieu, being ready, through unjust
     judgment, to be put to a death, such as no one of our race,
     (thanks) be to God, has ever suffered, still less one of my
     quality; but, my good cousin, praise God for it, as I was
     useless in the world for the cause of God and His Church
     being in the state I was, and I hope my death will testify
     to my constancy in the faith, and my readiness to die
     for the upholding and restoration of the Catholic Church
     in this unhappy island. And although no executioner has
     ever before dipped his hand in our blood, be not ashamed
     of it, my dear friend, for the condemnation of heretics
     and enemies of the Church (and who have no jurisdiction
     over me, a free queen) is profitable before God for the
     children of His Church. If I would belong to them I should
     not receive this blow. All those of our house have been
     persecuted by this sect; for example, your good father,
     with whom I hope to be received by the mercy of the just
     Judge. I recommend to you then, my poor servants, the
     discharge of my debts, and I beg you to have some annual
     obit founded for my soul, not at your expense, but please
     make the necessary solicitations and give the orders which
     shall be required. And you shall understand my intention by
     these, my poor desolate servants, eye-witnesses of this my
     last tragedy.

     May God prosper you, your wife, children, brothers, and
     cousins, and above all our chief, my good brother and
     cousin,[67] and all his. May the blessing of God and that
     which I would give to children of my own, be on yours, whom
     I recommend no less to God, than my own unfortunate and
     ill-advised child.

     [Footnote 67: The Duke of Lorraine.]

     You will receive some tokens from me, to remind you to pray
     for the soul of your poor cousin, destitute of all aid and
     advice but that of God, which gives me strength and courage
     to resist alone so many wolves howling after me.--To God be
     the glory.

     Believe, in particular, all that shall be said to you by a
     person who will give you a ruby ring from me, for I take
     it upon my conscience that the truth shall be told you of
     what I have charged her with, especially of what touches my
     poor servants, and regarding one of them in particular. I
     recommend you this person on account of her straightforward
     sincerity and goodness, and so that she may be placed
     in some good situation. I have chosen her as being most
     impartial and the one who will the most simply convey my
     orders. I beg of you not to make it known that she has said
     anything to you in private, as envy might harm her.

     I have suffered much for two years and more, and could
     not let you know it for important reasons. God be praised
     for all, and may He give you the grace to persevere in
     the service of His Church as long as you live, and may
     this honour never leave our race; so that we, men as well
     as women, may be ready to shed our blood to maintain the
     quarrel of the faith, putting aside all worldly interests.
     And as for me, I esteem myself born, both on the paternal
     and maternal side, to offer my blood for it, and I have no
     intention of degenerating. May Jesus--for us crucified--and
     may all the holy martyrs, by their intercession, render us
     worthy of willingly offering our bodies to His glory.

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY _this Thursday 24th November._

     Thinking to degrade me, they had my dais taken down, and
     afterwards my guardian came to offer to write to their
     Queen, saying he had not done this by her order, but by the
     advice of some of the council. I showed them the cross of
     my Saviour, in the place where my arms had been on the said
     dais. You shall hear all our conversation. They have been
     more gentle since.--Your affectionate cousin and perfect
     friend,

     MARIE,
     QUEEN OF SCOTLAND, DOWAGER OF FRANCE.




CHAPTER VII

WAITING FOR DEATH


While her cousin was thus bidding farewell to her best friends, and
calmly preparing for death, Elizabeth was a prey to indecision,
and, in spite of the entreaties of her ministers, dared not sign
the warrant of execution. About the 29th of November Burleigh thus
writes to Davison: "The sentence is already more than a month and
four days old, and it is time it should speak." Paulet on his side
was equally anxious for the end, and writes as follows to Walsingham:
"I should fear lest Fotheringay were forgotten, if I did not know
that this lady under my charge has given great cause to be remembered
by all true and faithful subjects." And again in the same letter,
"I thank God I have conceived a most steadfast hope of a happy
resolution, and yet the experience of former times doth teach us
that opportunities neglected are very often accompanied with very
dangerous effects."[68]

[Footnote 68: _Letter Books of Sir Amyas Paulet_, p. 320.]

To mitigate some of these "dangerous effects" probably, and fearing
that Mary's partisans would make an attempt upon Fotheringay, Paulet
had asked for an addition to his garrison of forty soldiers, and his
demand was at once complied with. With the newcomers the garrison now
mustered seventy foot soldiers and fifty bowmen.

Moved by the imminence of the danger, France and Scotland were now
both making fresh efforts on behalf of Mary. James, roused for a
moment, had written an energetic and even menacing letter to his
Ambassador Keith, charging him to show it to Elizabeth, and Henry
of France had remonstrated "temperately" through De Courcelles. In
writing to Walsingham on 7th December, Paulet expresses himself
significantly regarding these futile attempts. "I should be condemned
for a busybody if I should write unto you all that I think touching
the copy of the King of Scots' letter to Keith, not doubting but that
Her Majesty and her most honourable council will consider of it in
all respect of honour to Her Highness touching the manner, and in all
public and Christian judgment touching the matter. Only I will say
that, as I would be glad to hear that Her Majesty had not vouchsafed
to read the said letters at second-hand, so I assure myself that
having answered the French Ambassador (coming from the mightiest
prince in Europe and bringing a message of great temperance) in such
round, princely, and magisterial sort, as moved admiration in all the
hearers; Her Highness being now justly provoked in many ways (if I do
not mistake the copy), will not give place to the pride of so poor a
neighbour, but repress the same in his first budding, a principle, or
rather the only remedy in such forward, (I will not say) presumptuous
attempts. I pray God the unthankfulness in the mother work not like
effects in the son."[69]

[Footnote 69: _Letter Books_, p. 323.]

Elizabeth now, though still shrinking from the final step of signing
the warrant, caused the sentence to be publicly proclaimed by sound
of trumpet throughout the kingdom,--a measure welcomed with fanatic
joy by the people, and regarded by Walsingham as an encouraging sign
of the final realisation of his wishes.

When this news reached Mary she remarked that she would never
have thought her good sister would proceed in so inhuman a manner
towards her. The publicity now given to the sentence was, however,
a consolation to Mary. Fear of death in itself seemed to have been
unknown to her brave spirit, but as we know, she dreaded above
all things private assassination, and the false rumours that she
suspected would be spread regarding her if she should die without
witnesses to attest her fidelity to her faith and royal dignity.

In the previous September she wrote to the Duke of Guise, "I expect
poison or some other secret death"; and it is certain that her fears
were well founded.

Paulet at length received the reply to the requests which Mary had
begged Lord Buckhurst to present to Elizabeth. On 15th December he
thus relates his interview with Mary touching this matter:--

"Having signified to the Queen that I had received the order to
give back her money, and that I begged her to authorise one of her
attendants to receive it, she sent me word that as I had taken it
from her myself, she thought it only right that I should return it to
her with my own hand; upon which I went to her, accompanied by Sir
Drew Drury and Mr. Darrell.[70] I found her ill in bed, suffering
from one of her legs. I gave her a memorandum of the money I had
received from her and of that which I had spent for her.... She asked
me what reply had been made to her other requests; I told her her
papers would soon be returned, and that her attendants would be free
to return to Scotland or to France according to their own choice.

[Footnote 70: The steward appointed by Elizabeth to serve Queen
Mary.]

"'Yes,' returned she, 'but I cannot say if they will have leave to
retire with what I shall give them.' I answered her that she could
not doubt of this. 'I refer to my furniture,' continued the Queen;
'as I have the intention of sending a bed to my son, it is for this
that I requested leave to make my will.' She questioned me as to
whether I had had an answer. I said no, but that it was unnecessary,
as it depended on her own wish. She asked me what reply had been
sent about her chaplain. I told her that they had the intention of
soon sending him to her. Such was the interview. After remitting to
her the money, Sir Drue Drury and I took our leave of her." Farther
on in the letter Paulet adds: "I have sent two of my servants to go
and fetch the priest, who is detained at Mr. Thomas Gresley's, and
I expect them both this evening, or at latest, to-morrow morning.
This lady continues to show her perverse and obstinate character.
She shows no sign of repentance, and no submission. She does not
acknowledge her fault, does not ask for forgiveness, and shows no
sign of wishing to live. It is to be feared that she will die as she
has lived, and I pray God that this ignorant papist priest be not
admitted to her presence for her further punishment, and also because
he will strengthen her in her opposition to Her Majesty, and in all
her errors in matters of religion, instead of bringing her to a
better mind."[71]

[Footnote 71: Paulet to Walsingham, _The Letter Books_, p. 325.]

On the 18th December Paulet wrote on the same subject to
Burleigh:[72] "Mr. Secretary Walsingham had authorised me to send for
this Queen's priest, and to let him visit her. He arrived here on the
17th,[73] so that if the execution of this Queen is deferred it may
be repented of, as much from the political point of view as from that
of religion, if he shall have stayed with her so long."

[Footnote 72: Paulet to Burleigh, _The Letter Books_, p. 328.]

[Footnote 73: Bourgoing's Journal says that M. de Préau arrived on
the 16th about four o'clock in the evening.]

We must now return to the 15th December, as upon that day began the
curious series of facts connected with Queen Mary's letter to her
cousin.

After her interview with Lord Buckhurst and Beale, Mary had discussed
this question of correspondence. I here use Bourgoing's words:--

"Her Majesty said that in former times she could write when she
would, and then when it would have been profitable for both the Queen
and herself, it had not been permitted; that since her enemies had
procured and given the sentence against her, she had not thought it
could be profitable, or of any use for her to write to the Queen;
added to which, having been so humbled and deprived of all dignity
or title, she did not see in what quality she could write for the
present."

Mary, however, now desired to write to Elizabeth, and on the 15th she
sent Melville to Paulet with a message to this effect, adding that
in so doing she was not impelled by any desire to save her life, to
receive pardon, or to escape, but only "for the peace of her soul and
as a last farewell." Sir Amyas declared that this was not a request
to which he could give a reply on the spot, but that if Her Majesty
liked to prepare her letter, he would forward it as soon as he should
receive permission from court to do so. On hearing this Mary begged
Paulet to come to her, but he objected that his colleague, Sir Drue
Drury, was ill, and "they did nothing one without the other"; he
would therefore defer visiting Her Majesty till the next day, when he
hoped Drury would be better.

The following day--16th December--accordingly, after dinner Paulet
and Drury visited the Queen, and the latter, to remove all suspicion
of a danger too much in keeping with the spirit of the age to be
unusual, offered to take it upon herself to _test her letter_ before
it should be sent to Elizabeth, in order that Paulet might be assured
that no subtle poison was conveyed in it. This offer did not satisfy
Paulet, and he said he wished "to read the letter and handle it
himself before it was sealed, lest anything should be put inside the
letter, as sometimes happened."

"This led to some discussion, as the Queen found it strange that he
should ask of her what she had herself proposed to do, both by M.
Melville and by Sir Drue Drury, and also by her own words at their
entrance. She added that she thanked them for the good opinion they
had of her, to suspect her wrongfully of putting anything in her
letter which could harm the Queen (of England)." In reply Paulet
excused himself "as well as he could," adds Bourgoing. Two days later
the gentlemen returned to fetch the letter: this time Sir Amyas made
excuses for having asked to see the letter before it was closed, and
to test it, saying that as there might be danger within a letter as
well as in its cover, it was best to make the request.

"Her Majesty showed him her open letter, and tested it by striking it
against her face, then closed it with white silk and sealed it with
Spanish wax. The address was 'To the Queen, our sister and cousigne';
the superscription, 'Your sister and cousin wrongfully imprisoned,
Marye R.' The letter was written in French."[74]

[Footnote 74: Chantelauze, p. 552.]

Paulet wrote a long letter to Mr. Secretary Davison about this time
describing his interview with Mary. The facts relating to the letter
tally with those given by Bourgoing, and though Paulet's tone is
bitter as usual, he adds the following postscript: "I had forgotten
to signify unto you that this Queen, taking her letter in both her
hands, and holding the leaves open, did wipe her face with every part
of both the leaves; which no doubt she did in despite that I had told
her there might be as great danger within the letter as without."[75]
Queen Mary's letter, which had caused so much discussion, is a very
interesting one, and we subjoin it. As we shall see, Paulet feared
its effect on his mistress, and delayed sending it:--

[Footnote 75: See also letter, p. 338, _Letter Books_.]


MARY STUART TO QUEEN ELIZABETH.[76]

[Footnote 76: Labanoff, vi. 474.]

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY, _December 19, 1586._

     MADAME--Having been unable to obtain leave from
     those to whom I have been, as it were, given by you,
     to make known to you what I have at heart, as well to
     acquit myself of any feeling of ill-will, or desire to
     commit any cruelty or enimical act against those to whom
     I am related by blood, as also to communicate to you in
     charity what I deemed might serve for your welfare and
     preservation as well as for the continuance of the peace
     and prosperity of this island (things which could harm no
     one, as it was in your power to take or reject my advice,
     or to believe or disbelieve my words, as it seemed best
     to you), I resolved henceforward to strengthen myself in
     Jesus Christ alone, who is never wanting in justice and
     consolation to those who invoke Him with all their heart,
     and in especial, when denuded of all human help, they are
     left in His holy protection. To Him be the glory; He has
     not disappointed me in my expectations, having given me
     the courage, _in spe contra spem_, to endure the anguish,
     calomness, accusations, and contumelies of those who
     have no jurisdiction over me, together with a constant
     resolution to suffer death for the maintenance, obedience,
     and authority of the Catholic Church, Apostolic and Roman.

     Lately, on hearing the sentence, given by your last
     assemblage of some of the state, and receiving the
     admonition made to me by Lord Buckhurst and Beale, that I
     should prepare myself for the end of my long and wearisome
     trying pilgrimage, I begged them to thank you from me for
     such agreeable tidings, and to implore you to permit me
     certain things for the discharge of my conscience, the
     which Sir Paulet has since let me know you have accorded,
     having already allowed my chaplain to return, and together
     with the money which had been taken from me, and he assures
     me that the rest will follow. For all this I have much
     wished to return you thanks, and to supplicate you for one
     more last favour, which I have thought best to communicate
     to you alone, as being a last grace which I desire to owe
     to you alone, having no hope of anything but cruelty from
     the Puritans, who are now the strongest in power and the
     most animated against me,--God knows for what reason. I
     wish to accuse no one, but, on the contrary, to forgive
     every one from my heart, as I desire to be forgiven by
     all and in the first place by God. And then I know that
     all concerning the honour or dishonour of your blood and
     that of a queen, daughter of a king, touches you more
     nearly than any one else. Therefore, Madame, in honour
     of Jesus (whose name all powers obey), I require you to
     promise that when my enemies shall have satisfied their
     dark desire for my innocent blood, you will permit that my
     poor sorrowful servants may all together bear my body to
     be buried in holy ground and near those of my predecessors
     who are in France, especially the late Queen my mother;
     and this because in Scotland the bodies of the kings my
     ancestors have been insulted, and the churches pulled
     down and profaned, and because, suffering death in this
     country, I cannot have a place beside your predecessors,
     who are also mine; and what is more important--because in
     our religion we much prize being buried in holy ground. And
     as I am told you wish in nothing to force my conscience or
     my religion, and have even conceded me a priest, I hope
     that you will not refuse this my last request, but will at
     least allow free sepulture to the body from which the soul
     will be separated, as being united, they never knew how to
     obtain liberty to live in peace, or to procure the same
     for you, for which before God I do not in any way blame
     you--but may God show you the entire truth after my death.

     And because I fear the secret tyrany of some of those into
     whose power you have abandoned me, I beg you not to permit
     me to be executed without your knowledge--not from fear of
     the pain, which I am ready to suffer, but on account of
     the rumours which would be spread concerning my death if
     it were not seen by reliable witnesses; how it was done,
     I am persuaded, in the case of others of different rank.
     It is for this reason that in another place I require that
     my attendants remain to be spectators and witnesses of my
     end in the faith of my Saviour, and in the obedience of
     His Church, and that afterwards they shall all together
     withdraw quickly, taking my body with them as secretly as
     you wish, and so that the furniture and other things which
     I may be able to leave them in dying, be not taken from
     them, which will be, indeed, a very small reward for their
     good services. Would you wish me to return a jewel which
     you gave me to you with my last words, or would it please
     you to receive it sooner? I implore of you anew to permit
     me to send a jewel and a last adieu to my son, together
     with my blessing, of which he has been deprived, owing to
     what you informed me of his refusal to enter into a treaty
     in which I was included,--by the unhappy advice of whom?
     This last point I leave to your conscience and favourable
     consideration. For the others, I demand of you, in the name
     of Jesus Christ, and in consideration of our relationship,
     in remembrance of King Henry VII., your [great]grandfather
     and mine, and in honour of the dignity we have both held,
     and of our common sex, that my request be granted.

     For the rest, I think you will have certainly heard that
     they pulled down my dais, by your order, as they said, and
     that afterwards they told me that it was not done by your
     command, but by that of some of the council. I praise God
     that such cruelty, which could only show malice and afflict
     me after I had made up my mind to die, came not from you. I
     fear it has been like this in many other things, and that
     this is the reason why they would not permit me to write to
     you until they had, as far as they could, taken from me all
     external mark of dignity and power, telling me I was simply
     a dead woman, stripped of all dignity.

     God be praised for all. I wish that all my papers, without
     any exception, had been shown to you, so that it might have
     been seen that it was not only the care of your safety
     which animated all those who are so prompt in persuing me.
     If you grant me this my last request, give orders that I
     shall see what you write regarding it, as otherwise they
     will make me believe what they like; and I desire to know
     your final reply to my final request.

     In conclusion, I pray the God of mercy, the just Judge,
     that He will deign to enlighten you by His Holy Spirit, and
     that He will give me the grace to die in perfect charity,
     as I am preparing myself to do, pardoning all those who
     are the cause of my death, or who have co-operated in it;
     and this shall be my prayer till the end. I consider it
     happy for me that it should come before the persecution
     which I foresee threatens this island--if God is not more
     truly feared and revered, and vanity and worldly policy not
     more wisely curbed. Do not accuse me of presumption if, on
     the eve of leaving this world, and preparing myself for a
     better, I remind you that one day you will have to answer
     for your charge as well as those who are sent before,
     and that, making no account of my blood or my country, I
     desire to think of the time when, from the earliest dawn
     of reason, we were taught to place our soul's welfare
     before all temporal matters, which should cede to those of
     eternity.--Your sister and cousin wrongfully imprisoned,

     MARIE, QUEEN.

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY _this xix December 1586_.

Paulet, after receiving this letter from Queen Mary, entered into
a long conversation with her, in which he disturbed her by "rather
violent discourses, warning her to thank the Queen (Elizabeth) and
acknowledge the favours she had done her, not only at her first
coming into England, but ever since, and especially in this last
affair, in which, he said, she had much to be thankful for."

"For my part," replied Mary, "if I have received any favours, I thank
her, but I do not see in what they consist. I came into this country
under her promise (of assistance). She has kept me a prisoner for
eighteen years, and now makes me die, which is the worst that can be
done to me."

"But," retorted Paulet, "you owe it to the Queen that she kept you
from your enemies and saved your life. You were escaping to another
country when the stress of weather at sea caused you to take refuge
here."

"There is no one in this country but you who holds this opinion,"
replied the Queen, "or who does not know that I came to this country
in a simple fishing-boat, which was to take me no farther than I
wished. I came against the judgment of the nobles who were with me,
of whom some are still alive. They dissuaded me from coming, saying I
was putting myself in the hands of the enemies of my country and my
own, from whom I should never escape, as they would put me to death;
and they would not accompany me until I gave them an attestation and
certificate in my handwriting that it was against their wish, and
in spite of them, that I came to England. You show yourself very
ignorant of my affairs, as you have shown in other conversations.
When I was at Lochleven Queen Elizabeth said, and wrote, that she
would employ all her friends to deliver me from prison and subdue
my enemies. If she did not wish to keep her promise to me, who came
to her trusting in it, she should have sent me away, and not have
detained me (against) her promise."

Sir Amyas, nothing daunted, continued to boast of the kindness shown
by his mistress in her treatment of Mary, and then he and Sir Drue
Drury, addressing themselves this time to Melville, who was also
present, united in praising Morton, after which they proceeded to
declare that the King of Scotland had great cause to respect the
Queen of England, and that she had been a good mother to him; that
it was not the English who had withdrawn him from his mother's
friendship, but he himself who would not enter into any league in
which she took part. The English dealt with him as King of Scotland,
they said, who was recognised as such in England and in all foreign
countries, and had been publicly acknowledged in full Parliament in
England and Scotland.

"You have no feelings of honour," said the Queen, "if you praise so
wicked a man as the Earl of Morton, who is held to be a tyrant and
an usurper, who pillages and destroys all the possessions of the
poor Scottish subjects, holds my son a prisoner, is a false traitor,
and given up to a life of debauchery and public wickedness." To this
Melville added other facts of the kind, having known Morton.

"I marvel within myself," continued Mary, "how the Queen of England
can consider herself a good mother to my son, having always kept him
apart from me, and prevented his having friendship with me. You do
wrong in following young Gray's advice, to treat with the son rather
than with the mother, to whom the kingdom belongs, and not to him.
Far from being King, I protested in Scotland that my resignation was
forced from me; I permitted him to take the title of King on the
condition that he should consult me on affairs of importance to the
kingdom, that he should do nothing without me, otherwise I should not
support him in anything. Foreign kings only recognised him on these
conditions, which not being observed, I cannot acknowledge him as
King, and I doubt me the Queen of England has said by her own mouth
to her people, and even to the Ambassadors of France, and to Nau,
that she had never acknowledged him as King, nor had yet given him
the title."

All these matters had already been discussed at the trial. "The
Queen," said Bourgoing, "took occasion to say that they repeated
these things on purpose to displease her more, and to attempt to
extract something from her, as it may be supposed from the fact that
Sir Amyas could not bear what Her Majesty had said concerning certain
members of the council who were hostile to her, she said, and did all
they could against her, and this she would say of some of them she
could name till death, whom she would nevertheless pardon with all
her heart."

"You do ill in this," replied Paulet, "as you should die in charity;
there is no one of the council who wishes to do you evil against his
conscience. You go against God in retaining such an opinion of them."

"I do not feel my conscience charged by this," said Mary, "nor have
I offended God, who does not forbid one to die in an opinion of
which one is sure, nor to speak in dying of that of which one has a
perfect knowledge; although most surely He commands us to forgive,
which I do, as I have already said, but I do not at present feel
drawn to flatter, and will flatter no one, not striving to escape
from their hands by this means. Being resolved to die, and preparing
for this, I do not intend to purchase my life, or purchase any grace,
by flattery. I do not give any, and I do not ask for any, do with
me what you wish. What I ask of the Queen has nothing to do with my
deliverance, but only concerns my religion, and for the discharge
of my conscience, being on the point of putting my affairs in order
touching my will, my servants, and my funeral."[77]

[Footnote 77: Chantelauze, pp. 552-556.]

On the day following this interview Paulet wrote the following
confidential letter to Davison, in which he states very plainly his
reasons for delaying to send Mary's letter to Queen Elizabeth:--

     We were not a little perplexed with this motion of
     writing, and, indeed, did forbear to deliver our answer
     until we had considered of the matter privately between
     ourselves, wherein, as we feared greatly to give any the
     least cause of delay of the due examination [execution] of
     the long-desired justice, so, having received lately Her
     Majesty's express commandment to make offer to this lady to
     convey her letters if she were disposed to write, although
     she did not accept thereof at that time, yet, doubting
     lest our refusal to yield unto it at this present might be
     offensive to Her Highness, and perchance breed some slander
     to the cause, we condescended to her desire, beseeching God
     so to direct the sequel thereof as the same may redound to
     His glory and Her Majesty's safety, whereof there were no
     doubt, if we were as willing to take the advantage of great
     and urgent occasions to further this expected sacrifice,
     acceptable to God and man, as we are easily diverted from
     it upon every similar suggestion. All good and faithful
     subjects will be always careful of Her Majesty's safety,
     but specially in the time of Christmas now at hand, which
     giveth occasion to many dangerous assemblies. We are
     content to be found faulty of this pardonable jealousy.
     Being not able to do any good in this service, we should be
     very sorry, and should think ourselves more than unhappy
     if anything should come from us that might do hurt. And,
     therefore, to be plain with you as with our very friend, we
     have used all convenient means to delay the receiving of
     this, to the end it might arrive at the court too late to
     stay any action touching this lady that might be intended
     before Christmas, being strongly persuaded that the delay
     of the execution until after Christmas will give great
     cause to suspect an everlasting delay, either through Her
     Majesty's too great inclination to mercy, or by reason of
     the danger of her person in the Christmas, a time subject
     to dangerous assemblies. And thus, etc.

       *       *       *       *       *

     _P.S._--I am very sorry that your letters of the 14th,
     received the 20th at nine in the morning, came not to my
     hands in time convenient for the stay of the priest, who,
     arriving here the 17th, was immediately admitted to the
     presence of his mistress, according to the direction which
     I had before received in that behalf. The inconvenience
     whereof is not so great in matter of policy as in
     conscience, because, indeed, the priest is [of] weak and
     slender judgment, and can give neither counsel nor advice
     worthy of a young scholar. I feared lest he might have
     learned some bad news during his abode with Mr. Gresley,
     but having groped him the best I can, do find that he is a
     mere stranger almost to those things which are common to
     all men, which I impute to his want of language and to Mr.
     Gresley's absence from his house now many weeks by reason
     of his being at London, so that he hath had little other
     company than of his keeper. I might have doubted lest he
     had dissembled his knowledge in the occurrents of this
     time, but having searched his papers, do find two leaves of
     paper craftily (as he thought) inserted in the midst of his
     philosophical exercises, wherein he hath set down a daily
     note of all that he heard spoken unto him, and likewise his
     answers in all this time of his absence, the same being
     ridiculous or do bewray his great indiscretion. I would
     have been glad, for some Christian respects, that he should
     have had no access to this Queen until the night before her
     execution, and, indeed, having received direction to send
     for him, I took it for a strong argument that the time of
     her execution was near at hand.[78]

[Footnote 78: _Letter Books_, p. 338.]

Paulet's fear that Mary's letter would touch Elizabeth was partly
justified by the event. When it was at last forwarded, Leicester
thus writes of this letter to Walsingham: "There is a letter from
the Scottish Queen that hath wrought tears, but I trust shall do no
further hurt therein; albeit the delay is too dangerous." Leicester
apparently knew his royal mistress's character better than did
Paulet, for the tears induced no change of policy.[79]

[Footnote 79: Mary sent a ring to her cousin with this letter;
Hosack, ii. 440.]




CHAPTER VIII

FURTHER INDIGNITIES


On Thursday 22nd December Sir Amyas sent for both Melville and
Bourgoing,--an unusual proceeding, especially as hitherto, since his
return, Melville alone had taken and brought back the messages to
the Queen. When they were in the presence of Sir Amyas, he said that
as he had something to send to the Queen, he thought it expedient
to give it to them, declaring he knew not what it contained, but
delivered it as he had received it. He then gave them a letter from
Curle to his sister concerning certain money which the Queen had
promised him. That Curle should have had the "courage," as Bourgoing
expresses it, to apply to Mary in this way, seems to point to the
fact that he considered himself innocent in her regard, and throws
fresh doubt on the confessions supposed to have been extorted from
him and Nau. The bags for the Queen contained some of her accounts;
the seals had been broken, as Melville and Bourgoing pointed out to
Paulet, who replied that he had, according to his duty, broken them,
that he might be aware of the contents. A letter from Nau was among
the papers, and a short memorandum which he had made on the papers
taken to him, but the chief accounts for the year were missing, nor
did they ever reach Mary; in spite of much correspondence on the
subject between Paulet, Walsingham, Waad, and others, and Elizabeth's
own apparent wish that they should be restored.

At this time Paulet was laid up by a cold, and all communications
between him and his prisoner had to be conveyed by her attendants.
Day by day the Queen anxiously waited, hoping to see Paulet and
inquire from him concerning the subjects which were to her of the
deepest interest, but his own cold and gout occupied Paulet's
attention far more than his prisoner's feelings. At last on the 8th
of January, knowing that he had been out the day before, Mary sent
to beg him to visit her, but Paulet still pleaded cold and inability
to come. "We," continues Bourgoing, who was evidently one of those
sent, "according to our charge, said that Her Majesty, being unable
to communicate with him, and having no reply to her letter written
nearly three weeks past (to Queen Elizabeth), and hearing nothing
about it, but being always kept in suspense, proposed writing, and
that as he seemed to be better in health, Her Majesty would prepare
her letters, so that when he was well he would find them all ready."

Paulet, appearing a little angry, replied that Mary could write
and prepare what she liked. The Queen therefore wrote once more,
and for the last time, to her cousin,--a letter which, as we shall
see, Paulet this time refused to send at all, and of which the
dignified and pathetic contents would have remained unknown had not
Bourgoing preserved it. It runs as follows, with the exception of one
paragraph, which is unintelligible:--


     THE LAST LETTER FROM QUEEN MARY TO QUEEN
     ELIZABETH.[80]

     [Footnote 80: Chantelauze, p. 578.]

     MADAME--Having prepared myself for death,
     according to what it pleased you to signify to me, thus
     ridding my enemies of their charge, and that my life may
     be disposed of according to their designs, I have so
     willingly made up my mind to leave this false world, that
     I protest to God and to you, that since I have not aspired
     to, nor do I desire, any worldly satisfaction save those
     which, for the discharge of my conscience, I requested
     through my Lord Buckhurst and Beale, and those that I have
     asked of you in the last memorandum by my own hand, which
     depend entirely on your benevolence, and which can offend
     no one. As regards the petitions and requests I have been
     in part gratified, namely, the arrival of my chaplain and
     receiving a portion of my money--but of my papers I have
     only received certain extracts[81]--and as I do not think
     you intend that things belonging to me, or the affairs of
     my domain, should fall into other hands, as they cannot be
     of service to you, as they are necessary for the making
     of my will, I implore you that all my statements, books
     of accounts, and other papers, which only relate to my
     private affairs, be returned to me and the rest of the
     money restored, so that I can put them in order, and leave
     the examination of them to those in my confidence and the
     executors of my will, to whom they may be of use after
     my death, as they will be to me now; that I may be sure
     of what I have to spend, what I can dispose of, or what
     I justly owe; not being able, without them, to make use
     of Nau's extracts alone, he being a prisoner, unless I
     had liberty to communicate with him, or, at the least, by
     writing to receive information from him concerning several
     special (points) on which I require to be enlightened. I
     let Messrs. Paulet and Drue Drury know regarding certain
     points; and as they promised me to write, I have been
     expecting an answer since the 22nd of December, on which
     day they sent me some papers, with a line from my secretary
     Nau. (They), perhaps, not thinking it reasonable to trouble
     you with my last requests, I fear either that my letter
     has never been given to you, or that you did not wish to
     take the trouble to (read) it. The way in which I have been
     treated has perhaps led (them) to imagine that I meant
     to beg from you some great grace, and it may even have
     made them fear that, in the goodness of your heart, this
     remonstrance would cause you some regrets at consigning one
     of your own blood, and quality united, to such straits.
     But, Madame, they need not fear such pusillanimity on the
     one side, and on the other you can remove from them all
     their dread of your too great sorrow, by telling them of my
     request; and as it is your intention only to gratify it
     at my death, the which has been granted them, they cannot
     blame you if, through a feeling of family duty, or at the
     least of Christian charity, you grant burial for my body.

     [Footnote 81: _États_, probably papers or accounts relating
     to her French estates.]

     By the same, I require of you with instance, Madame, in
     honour of the Passion of Jesus Christ, not to keep me
     longer in this miserable suspense, which is more cruel than
     any certainty, but to let me fully know your will, and if
     it be to grant my prayer, I promise to make one for you
     at my death for your salvation, and for your prosperity
     in this world in the grace of God. And if you refuse me,
     I will endeavour to bear it patiently, thanking you still
     for leaving me no longer to languish in this miserable
     condition, of which I wish you knew the truth of the
     sufferings of my poor servants, who are losing their time
     and their health. For the rest, if at the hour of my death
     I should wish to divulge to you some secret, and of which
     it might be of importance to you that no one should have
     knowledge, being my last words, I desire to know in whom I
     may confide, as there are some who might, through habit,
     speak about it too freely, or refrain from telling it, from
     some reason of their own. Well, then, I pray God grant you
     as much happiness in this world as I expect in leaving it,
     through His mercy, which I beg for myself and for all those
     who persecute me, and this happiness, of being freed from
     so many miseries by an innocent death; and I desire to
     forgive any who otherwise calumniate me and mine, if there
     be any.... And I hope that by my death, which is so much
     wished for, you and several others will experience what
     may be of use, and serve to clear up many things in which
     God may be glorified. I implore His Divine Majesty that
     all shall conduce to His honour and to your edification
     and preservation, and that of this whole island, for
     the salvation of which I would willingly give my life,
     nor would refuse to desert it, even were I in a better
     condition. I am not able to speak willingly of him[82] in
     whose service, as of that of our country, I am useless,
     nor of the special good I wish you, being so near you in
     blood--seeing that, on the contrary, I serve for a pretext
     to others who discharge their malice against me and mine
     for certain reasons, which, as well as my own intentions, I
     leave to the judgment of the just Judge.--Your sister and
     imprisoned cousin,

     MARYE.

     _From my prison of_ FOTHERINGAY, _the 12th of
     January 1587._

[Footnote 82: Her son. Here occur a few lines which, through errors
of the copyist, are very unintelligible. See Chantelauze, pp.
579-581.]

When the letter was written, Sir Amyas continued to throw every
possible hindrance in the way of its transmission. The Queen begged
him to come to see her, offering to show him her letter and close it
in his presence as before; but Paulet, "being in bed motionless and
with one of his arms bandaged," replied that he could not possibly
move, or walk to go to her, that he much regretted it, and would go
to her as soon as he could; and so for the next two days the question
continued to be discussed by means of messages between the Queen and
Paulet, but in spite of conciliating speeches on the part of the
latter, it ended in the letter never being despatched.

From the 20th of January the chronicle becomes more and more
interesting, and we shall as far as possible give Bourgoing's own
words:--

"On Friday 20th January Melville went to speak to Sir Amyas about our
supplies and the usual pension, and about a servant and our wages. To
which he received fairly courteous replies; (Sir Amyas) refusing him,
however, a servant, but saying that he thought means might be found
for sending us our wages. Upon this last point we founded our hopes
that all was not at extremity.

"On Saturday 21st Sir Amyas sent to fetch Mr. Melville, Mr.
Bourgoing, and Monsieur de Préau, at which we were quite astonished,
not knowing what it could mean. And this last named (de Préau), not
wishing to go to him, as he was not in a suitable dress, according
to his rank, remained behind until the same Melville and Bourgoing
went to speak to him (Paulet), to whom he refused to speak, saying he
had nothing to say to them unless de Préau should come. From this,
still more puzzled, we concluded that it was on account of him alone
that we were summoned, fearing among other things that they wished to
separate him (from the Queen).

"M. de Préau, therefore, dressed as he was, borrowed a cloak, and
when we were all three come to Sir Amyas, he addressed himself to
the said Bourgoing, saying he had sent for him specially, as he had
something to say to him, as also to the said sirs, Melville and de
Préau, which he wished me to report to Her Majesty, as he would have
done himself could he have gone to her.

"Sir Amyas then continued that he had something to tell them which he
knew would be pleasing neither to the Queen nor to Melville, whom he
had always seen to be a faithful servant to his mistress, but that
there was no remedy, and he must take it in good part. Both he and de
Préau, said Paulet, were to be separated from their mistress for the
present; they were not to go into her presence, but were to retire
to their own rooms. As de Préau was lodged so near the Queen as to
make it impossible to prevent his going to her, Paulet had arranged
that he should lodge in one of Melville's rooms. They were not to
be prisoners, and were to do as they pleased, with the exception of
seeing the Queen. And when M. Melville, protesting the sorrow that
this gave him, his only consolation being to be near his mistress,
and begging to be permitted to see her and to bid her farewell, Sir
Amyas replied that he could not give him leave, and that it was not
necessary; he saw nothing yet which should prevent his returning to
her as usual, and that he must be patient for the present. M. de
Préau, protesting also his regret, said the same.

"The said Bourgoing then returned to Her Majesty, and surprised her
very much, and also the others, with his tidings, which caused many
thoughts and imaginings without any conclusion being arrived at, as
there seemed no apparent reason for these proceedings.

"The next day the Queen sent Bourgoing to Paulet to say that after
his report she would have sent him to inquire the previous day had
it not been too late, and that she wished to think over what she had
heard. I think (adds Bourgoing) that the chief reason was that she
feared I would be kept away from her like the others." Bourgoing and
Paulet had a long discussion; the former represented to Paulet how
strange it appeared to his mistress that she had received no answer
to her letter, and that she could not even feel assured that it had
reached Queen Elizabeth, and not only that, but that in this doubt
she had prepared another letter, and had not yet heard from Sir Amyas
whether she might send it or not. To this Paulet replied that Mary's
letter had certainly reached Queen Elizabeth, but that no answer had
come. He was not the person to keep a letter back from the Queen of
Scots, and that as regards the second letter which she had written to
his mistress, his judgment told him that because he had permission to
send one, this did not mean he could forward more.

Being pressed upon the latter point, Paulet repeated that he had not
permission to forward letters. Bourgoing thus continues: "It was
told him in the second place that she (Mary) was in great distress
to know the cause of her attendants being taken from her, saying
that the Queen of England had, at her request, sent her priest that
she might have the consolation of his presence and his assistance in
preparing for death, and that now when he was most necessary to her,
he was taken away. There was no one so criminal, she said, but he
was allowed a minister of his religion to conduct him to execution,
to console and minister to him, and that the only consolations that
she still had in her misery and captivity were those of her religion.
She regretted infinitely (continued Bourgoing) not to be able to
perform her devotions as she would wish, to assist at Mass, and do
her duty as a good Christian. Queen Elizabeth had promised her not to
interfere with her in her religion, and yet it was for her religion
only that she was persecuted. Her priest was in no one's way; he
interfered with nothing, devoting himself to his prayers. It would
have been better not to have allowed him to return than now to remove
him in her greatest need, and she now plainly perceived that they
would not be content with afflicting the body but would proceed, were
it possible, to destroy not only the body and life itself, but also
the soul, which, however, could never be, as she had entire hope in
God, that He would be with her in this last trial as He had ever
been. She saw that their intention was to take her servants from her
one by one, and to remove herself secretly from here to make her die
when they wished, or to murder her secretly.

"To the first point Paulet replied that he did not doubt that the
Queen (Mary) desired to have the priest near her, nor that she was
vexed at his absence, but she might assure herself that he was not
far off. He was neither in France nor in Scotland, nor indeed out
of the house, and that he saw no cause for thinking that, when it
should be necessary as the Queen thought, she should not have him.
For the rest, continued he, she was peradventure not so near death as
she imagined, and for the present she must be satisfied. When Paulet
heard, however, of the fear entertained by Mary that she would be
murdered, or secretly put to death, he fell into a rage, protesting
that there was no greater danger of her being thus insulted than
there was for Bourgoing himself, who had no reason to fear that
anything should be attempted against _him_. The latter then pressing
the question as to whether there was really no plot of the kind
against his mistress, Paulet said 'that there was no more danger for
Her Majesty that such a thing should be done to her, than there was
for his own wife, his children, or himself, and of this he would dare
to swear. That as for him, he was not the man to do, or make others
do, such a thing, feeling indeed hurt to be thus suspected; he was a
man of honour and a gentleman, and he would not wish so to dishonour
himself as to wish to exercise such cruelty or to conduct himself
as a Turk! People must not think such things of him. When it was
suggested to him that the Queen did not so much fear him as others
who were her enemies, and who would not be unwilling to do her a bad
turn if it were to their own advantage, Paulet replied that he alone
would be responsible for all, and that she might assure herself that
nothing of the kind would occur.' In this protest Paulet did himself
no less than justice, as his after conduct proved; much as he hated
his prisoner, she was safe in his hands from assassination.

"Bourgoing before leaving Paulet anxiously inquired for Mary, why
Melville had likewise been separated from her and for what reason. To
which Paulet's reply was that Mr. Melville was an honest gentleman,
that he was separated from her for no offence against Queen Elizabeth
or for anything in particular, but there were certain reasons which
made it necessary.

"Bourgoing then told Paulet that in future his mistress would be
afraid to send any one to speak to him, in the fear that he would
detain them, one after the other. But Paulet assured him that she
need have no such fear, and that all her servants were in the
house."[83]

[Footnote 83: Chantelauze, pp. 561-567.]

Paulet's real sentiments on this occasion may be gathered from
a letter to Mr. Secretary Davison, written two days before.[84]
Although written from a bed of sickness, he evinces no sympathy for
the Queen's chronic ill-health, nor does it seem to occur to him
that Chartley was as unwholesome for his delicate prisoner as for
himself, the "naughty waters" there having contributed to aggravate
the Queen's rheumatism and other ailments.

[Footnote 84: See _Paulet's Letters_, p. 351.]

On the Monday (23rd January) Melville had an interview with
Paulet--the first since he had been separated from the others--and
spoke in the same sense as his mistress of his separation from her.
Sir Amyas replied very courteously, but declined to give any reason
for this decision. He likewise declined to give M. de Préau and
Melville a separate allowance of food, saying that as when they were
with the others there was sufficient for all, nothing extra was now
needed. All this created much surmise and anxiety among the Queen's
people, but that same evening a clue was given to the mystery. About
five o'clock the Fotheringay porter, Newrins, came to forbid Jehan
Landet, the Queen's butler, to carry the rod before the dishes of
meat served to his mistress. (This office had belonged to Melville,
as master of the household, and had only been exercised by Landet
since his absence.)[85]

[Footnote 85: This practice had probably been adopted by Mary from
the French custom. M. de Chantelauze quotes the following from a
court ceremonial of the reign of Louis XIV.: "La viande de sa Majeste
sera porté en cette ordre, deux des gardes marcheront les premiers,
ensuite l'huissier de Salle, _le maître d'hôtel avec son bâton_,"
etc.]

"At this," says Bourgoing, "Her Majesty was greatly astonished, and
wished at once to send to Sir Amyas to learn the reason, but he would
receive no one, saying that it was too late and that they could speak
to him next day, and if it was about the rod being forbidden, it was
no use, as if he had remembered when M. Melville was taken away, it
would have been forbidden then. On the following day the Queen sent
Bourgoing to Paulet with a message to say that although she had for
a time felt relief from her fear of being secretly put to death, in
consequence of the assurances she had received through Bourgoing
of his good intentions in her regard, the same painful doubt now
recurred to her mind. She saw in the new order he had given fresh
cause to fear that the last vestiges of her royal dignity were taken
from her only in order that such a crime might the more easily be
committed. Her Majesty was surprised," continued Bourgoing, "that
Paulet should take the trouble to forbid so small a thing, which
could not possibly do good or harm. He could of course command his
own servants, and if he wished, do nothing for her or to honour her,
but Her Majesty was of opinion that he should not forbid her own
attendants to do what was according to their duty and to their oath
to her, their mistress.

"To this Sir Amyas replied by again protesting that Her Majesty did
herself great wrong, did wrong to the Queen and state of England, to
the council, and to himself, to think that they wished to undertake
anything so unworthy or so insulting as to kill, to poignard, or
murder her secretly, or of a sudden, whether by night or day; that
he felt heart-broken to think he was supposed capable of committing
such butchery, or of permitting such. 'The Queen is a woman of great
talent and intelligence,' continued Paulet, 'and of experience in
many things, and I am surprised that she should torment herself about
this; she knows well that her priest, her steward, her dais, have all
been taken away, and now she is disturbed for a trifle, because a
rod which was borne before her food is taken away; she does harm to
herself, being an attainted, convicted, and a condemned woman.'"

Bourgoing replied that she thought she had reason to be displeased,
precisely because they showed ill-will in so small a matter, and for
a trifle; she remembered that the same was done to King Richard, who
was degraded from all honour and state, or at least of all signs of
either, and then he was suddenly put to death, murdered in a moment.
She feared the same would be done to her. Once more Sir Amyas flew
into a rage, saying such words were not good to hear, and that such
messages ought not to be sent to him, and accusing Bourgoing of
himself inventing the message. Bourgoing assured him that he only
repeated the Queen's words, and after a little further discussion
they separated.

On Friday 3rd February Melville begged for an interview with Paulet,
but the latter would not see him, and to all his messages of inquiry
to know why he was separated from his mistress, and what he had done
to deserve this, the same answer was returned,--Melville had done
nothing blameworthy, but things must be as they were, and he must
have patience.

Mary was more suffering in health during this time, and on the
Saturday Bourgoing was sent to ask Paulet to allow him to search for
some herbal remedies in the gardens of the neighbouring village.
"Her Majesty," says Bourgoing, "sent the said Bourgoing to inform
Sir Amyas of the indisposition, and to pray that he might be allowed
to go out to gather herbs in some of the gardens of the gentlemen of
the village to make a special remedy. He made a great point of this,
but Sir Amyas said he should have everything he liked to ask for, if
he would write it down, and being still pressed by Bourgoing to let
him go himself, Sir Amyas replied that he could not be responsible
alone for this, he must consult with his comrade Sir Drue Drury,
and in the course of Monday he should have an answer. I pressed Sir
Amyas," continues the faithful physician, "not to delay so long, as
Her Majesty was already indisposed and quite crippled, I feared she
should become seriously ill, as had often been the case before, the
more especially as she had so few attendants with her to nurse and
care for her, and for these reasons it was necessary for her to begin
to use the remedies next day."[86]

[Footnote 86: Chantelauze, pp. 567-571.]

On hearing this Paulet changed his mind, and as soon as Bourgoing
left him, sent word that he might go out, although it was against
his judgment. It is to be feared that this act of clemency was not
due to mere benevolence on Paulet's part. A contemporary author
thus comments on the fact: "This wretched traitor was expecting the
warrant of execution, and knew no remedy would be needed, but to
cause less suspicion he permitted on that day what had of late been
forbidden."[87]

[Footnote 87: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Paris, 1588; _ap._
Jebb, ii. 620.]

The same thought, doubtless, occurred to the Queen; for we read that
on the next day, Sunday, when she was asked if she would continue the
remedies, she, having heard of the arrival of Beale, replied that
peradventure no more would be required, and that it was useless for
her to take medicines if she was to die. Everything, indeed, now
betokened the near approach of the final tragedy; nor were other
signs wanting, such as impress the popular imagination.[88] "On the
29th January, which was a Sunday," writes another contemporary,
"between midnight and one o'clock there appeared in the heavens a
great flame of fire, which of a sudden illumined the window of the
Queen's room, and gave a great light; it returned three times to the
same place, and was seen in no other part of the said castle. This
light was so bright that one could easily have read or written by
it,--a thing which greatly astonished and alarmed the guards who were
appointed to watch under that window, as they have all deposed."[89]

[Footnote 88: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Paris, 1588; _ap._
Jebb, ii. 620.]

[Footnote 89: Teulet, v. 4.]

We must now leave the prisoner, to consider the cruel and, to her own
courtiers, the most perplexing conduct of Elizabeth, as the moment
approached when she saw herself forced to come to a final decision.




CHAPTER IX

THE DEATH WARRANT


The warrant for the execution of the Queen of Scots was still
unsigned, and Elizabeth remained a prey to indecision. Throughout
the country every kind of possible and impossible rumour was afloat.
Philip of Spain, it was said, was preparing a vast armament at Lisbon
for the invasion of England. The Prince of Parma was expected to
rescue the Queen of Scots, and even to carry off Elizabeth herself.
The Duke of Guise was reported to have actually landed in Sussex, and
the Scotch, it was declared, had marched across the Border. These and
many other wild stories served to inflame public opinion. At last
one report, more credible than the rest, averred that Paulet had put
Mary to death. "God grant this is true," writes one of Walsingham's
agents, "for she has lived too long; good Protestants blame the Queen
for waiting so long, for God commanded that rulers should govern
with great severity."[90]

[Footnote 90: Brit. Mus. Harley MS., 290, No. 104.]

What Paulet's views were of the agitation in general, and of this
story, we learn by the following letter to Davison under date of 30th
January:--

     You may perceive by these letters enclosed, with mine
     answer to the same, that the report of the Scottish Queen's
     escape, or her taking away, as it is now termed, carrieth
     such credit in these parts, as it is followed with hue and
     cry. And although, considering my late letters to like
     effect, I did not think needful to advertise you thereof
     with speed, yet I would not hide it from you, and therefore
     do send it by one of my servants repairing to London about
     his own business, not doubting but that the same will come
     as speedily to your hands as if it had been sent by post.
     These seditious rumours are not to be neglected, in my
     simple opinion, and, indeed, there is not a more ready way
     to levy forces to the achieving of that which these lewd
     reporters pretend to fear. I cannot let[91] them to flatter
     themselves with vain hope; but by the grace of God I will
     not lose this lady, my charge, without the loss of my life;
     neither shall it be possible for any force to take her out
     of my hands alive. And thus, etc.[92]

[Footnote 91: Hinder.]

[Footnote 92: _Letter Books_, p. 356.]

Burleigh and Walsingham took every opportunity of making capital out
of the reports which they had themselves set going, and terrified
their mistress with gloomy prophecies. Elizabeth, who still hesitated
between desire for her cousin's death, which she regarded as her only
safety, and fear of the results to herself of such a crime, became
more and more gloomy and irresolute. She sought solitude in order
to give herself more completely to her dark and troubled thoughts,
and was often heard to murmur to herself, "_Aut fer, aut feri; ne
feriare, feri_"--"Either suffer or strike; not to be struck, strike."

In Elizabeth's mysterious phrases and half-revealed wishes, her
ministers understood that their mistress desired that the Queen of
Scots[93] should be put to death in some secret manner, in which
she herself should not be implicated, and without her signing the
warrant of execution. She even gave them to understand that the oath
of association taken by them for the protection of her person, in a
manner bound them to some such act. This interpretation of their oath
utterly amazed and alarmed them, not from any special horror of such
a crime, but on account of their intimate knowledge of Elizabeth's
character. It was evident to them that her wish was to escape from
the responsibility of such an act, and that in the event of the crime
being committed, on them alone would fall the penalty.

[Footnote 93: See Appendix, p. 265--"The Queen of Scots."]

The unsigned warrant remained meanwhile in Davison's charge.

On the 1st of February, the Court being then at Greenwich, Lord
Howard (Lord High Admiral) sent for Davison by order of the
Queen. The latter arrived in haste, and after a few words with
the Admiral, returned to fetch the warrant, which he brought to
the Queen placed, as if by accident, with other papers. Elizabeth
commenced by speaking of indifferent matters, such as the beauty of
the weather, and then demanded what he held in his hand. Davison
replied that he had brought some documents which required the Queen's
signature, and among them a certain paper which he had fetched by
order of Lord Howard. Elizabeth signed the papers one after the
other, including the warrant, which she feigned not to perceive, and
threw it carelessly on the table with the rest. Her first intention,
apparently, had been to pretend that she had signed the warrant by
inadvertence, but suddenly changing her mind, she turned to Davison
and told him that she had only delayed so long in order to show her
extreme reluctance to sign the warrant. "Are you not distressed to
see me do this?" she said. To this curious question Davison replied
that he preferred the death of a guilty person to that of an innocent
one, and that he could not regret that Her Majesty had taken the only
means of protecting herself from the designs of her enemies.

Elizabeth smiled, and presently told Davison to take the warrant
to the Lord Chancellor that he might attach the great seal to it,
and transmit it to those designed to preside at its execution. The
Queen added that this must be done as secretly as possible, as,
if the matter were known before the day of execution, it might be
dangerous for her. "On the road," she added, with a sinister smile,
"you will visit Walsingham to show him the warrant. Ill as he is, I
fear the pain it will cause him will kill him outright." After this
bitter jest the Queen told Davison that the execution could not be
in public; it must not be even in the courtyard at Fotheringay, she
said, but must take place in the great hall on the ground-floor,
and added that she would be troubled no more about the matter. She
desired to hear nothing more till all was over. "For my part," added
Elizabeth, "I have done all that can be required of me by law or
reason."[94] While, however, Davison was collecting the papers before
retiring, the Queen spoke again, and for the first time disclosed
in full her real wishes. After complaining of the want of zeal of
Paulet and her other advisers, she thus continued: "Ought they not
better to understand the spirit of the association of which they are
members, and so relieve me of this enormous responsibility? Would
it not be better for me to risk personal danger than to take the
life of a relation? But if a loyal subject were to save me from the
embarrassment by dealing the blow, the resentment of France and
Scotland might be disarmed. Sir Amyas Paulet and Drury are members of
the association; cannot they so arrange that no blame shall attach to
me, if you and Walsingham come to an understanding and write to them
conjointly to sound their dispositions on the subject?"

[Footnote 94: Hosack, ii. 453. Chantelauze, pp. 368-371. Davison's
defence. _Life of Davison_, by Sir Henry Nicolas, etc.]

"It would be time lost," replied Davison; "it is certain that they
would refuse, as the statute only protects them so long as they act
under a formal order from your Majesty."

Elizabeth still insisted, and in a firm voice bade Davison see that
this matter was settled secretly, and promptly, as her own life was
being continually threatened with the greatest dangers.

Seeing that the Queen's mind was made up, Davison, after consulting
with Burleigh and Walsingham, composed the following letter, which
was sent the same day by a special messenger to Fotheringay:--


     LETTER TO SIR AMYAS PAULET.[95]

     [Footnote 95: Paulet's _Letter Books_, p. 359.]

     After our hearty commendations, we find by speech lately
     uttered by Her Majesty that she doth note in you both a
     lack of that care and zeal of her service that she looketh
     for at your hands, in that you have not in all this time
     of yourselves (without other provocation) found out some
     way to shorten the life of that Queen, considering the
     great peril she [Elizabeth] is subject unto hourly, so
     long as the said Queen shall live. Wherein, besides a kind
     of lack of love towards her, she noteth greatly that you
     have not that care of your own particular safeties, or
     rather of the preservation of religion and the public good
     and prosperity of your country, that reason and policy
     commandeth, especially having so good a warrant and ground
     for the satisfaction of your consciences towards God and
     the discharge of your credit and reputation towards the
     world, as the oath of association which you both have
     so solemnly taken and vowed, and especially the matter
     wherewith she [Mary] standeth charged being so clearly
     and manifestly proved against her. And therefore she
     [Elizabeth] taketh it most unkindly towards her, that
     men professing that love towards her that you do, should
     in any kind of sort, for lack of the discharge of your
     duties, cast the burthen upon her, knowing as you do her
     indisposition to shed blood, especially of one of that
     sex and quality, and so near to her in blood as the said
     Queen is. These respects we find do greatly trouble her
     Majesty, who, we assure you, has sundry times protested
     that if the regard of the danger of her good subjects and
     faithful servants did not more move her than her own peril,
     she would never be drawn to assent to the shedding of her
     blood. We thought it very meet to acquaint you with these
     speeches lately passed from Her Majesty, referring the
     same to your good judgments. And so we commit you to the
     protection of the Almighty.--Your most assured friends,

     FRANCIS WALSINGHAM.
     WILLIAM DAVISON.

     _At_ LONDON, _1st February 1586._

A few hours after the despatch of this letter, Davison, who trembled
lest it should ever be made public, sent the following postscript by
a fresh messenger: "I pray you let this and the enclosed be committed
to the fire, which measure shall be likewise mete to your answer
after it hath been communicated to Her Majesty for her satisfaction."
And on the 3rd of February Davison sent another anxious reminder: "I
entreated you in my last to burn my letters sent unto you for the
argument sake, which, by your answer to Mr. Secretary (which I have
seen), appeareth not to have been done. I pray you let me entreat you
to make heretics of the one and the other, as I mean to use yours,
after Her Majesty hath seen it." This second urgent note was written
before Davison was aware how little "satisfaction" Paulet's answer
was likely to give his mistress. In fact the letter had been received
with horror and indignation by Paulet and his colleague.

Although we know by Paulet's own extravagant expressions of his
evident wishes for Mary's death, and while we may conclude with Mr.
Hosack that he sought his own safety in refusing the assassin's part
proposed to him, he apparently retained enough honourable feeling to
feel keenly the degradation implied in such a proposal, and sent at
once a manly and energetic refusal.


     A. PAULET--D. DRURY.[96]

     [Footnote 96: Paulet's _Letter Books_, p. 361.]

     (A copy of a letter to Sir Francis Walsingham, of the 2nd
     of February 1586, at six in the afternoon, being the answer
     to a letter from him, the said Sir Francis, of the 1st
     of February 1586, received at Fotheringay the 2nd day of
     February, at five in the afternoon.)

     Your letters of yesterday coming to my hands this present
     day at five in the afternoon, I would not fail, according
     to your directions, to return my answer with all possible
     speed, which (_sic_) shall deliver unto you with great
     grief and bitterness of mind, in that I am so unhappy to
     have lived to see this unhappy day, in the which I am
     required by direction from my most gracious sovereign
     to do an act which God and the law forbiddeth. My good
     livings and life are at Her Majesty's disposition, and
     am ready to so lose them this next morrow if it shall so
     please her, acknowledging that I hold them as of her mere
     and most gracious favour, and do not desire them to enjoy
     them, but with her Highness's good liking. But God forbid
     that I should make so foul a shipwreck of my conscience,
     or leave so great a blot to my poor posterity, to shed
     blood without law or warrant. Trusting that Her Majesty, of
     her accustomed clemency, will take this my dutiful answer
     in good part (and the rather by your good mediation),
     as proceeding from one who will never be inferior to
     any Christian subject living in duty, honour, love, and
     obedience towards his sovereign. And thus I commit you to
     the mercy of the Almighty.--Your most assured poor friends,

     A. PAULET.
     D. DRURY.

     _From_ FOTHERINGAY, _2nd February 1586._

     Your letters coming in the plural number seem to be meant
     as to Sir Drue Drury as to myself, and yet because he is
     not named in them, neither the letter directed unto him, he
     forbeareth to make any particular answer, but subscribeth
     in heart to my opinion.

On the morning of 3rd February Elizabeth summoned Davison again to
her presence, and inquired sharply whether he had taken the warrant
of execution to the Chancellor. On his replying that he had done so,
the Queen, in a brusque and severe tone, asked why he had been in
such a hurry.

"I obeyed your Majesty's orders," timidly replied Davison, "and I
thought there should be no delay in an affair of so much importance."

"It is true," returned Elizabeth, "but it seems to me that there may
be a better and a surer way of ending the matter."

To which Davison answered, that as the execution was to take place,
the most honourable way was also the most sure.[97]

[Footnote 97: "2 Feb. Davison sent word to R.B. (Robert Beale) at 11
o'clock at night to meet him at Walsin'm's house next morning.

"3 R.B. went, and W'm. shewed him the Com. signed, and that he had
been appointed to carry it down. At a later time R.B. said unto Sir
Ch. Hatton and Sec. Davison that he doubted not but that H.M. was
resolved that the execution should be done, and the answer was that
he needed not to doubt thereof, seeing the commission under her hand
and the great seal of Eng., but that she would rather be therewith
well pleased."--Yelverton MSS., f. 224--Report by Mr. Henry Talbot,
third son of Earl of Shrewsbury.]

On leaving the Queen's presence, Davison, very anxious in mind,
hurried to acquaint Burleigh and Sir Christopher Hatton with his
suspicions. Burleigh was detained at home by the gout, but he sent
at once for all the members of the council. He was now determined
to act on his own responsibility; he had the warrant duly signed by
Elizabeth in his possession, yet he well remembered that she had
before twice signed and twice cancelled the warrant for the Duke of
Norfolk's execution. Burleigh was also well aware, as we know, of
the correspondence going on with Paulet, but he probably anticipated
Paulet's refusal; in any case he resolved to act without waiting for
his reply. When therefore his colleagues were assembled,[98] he laid
the signed warrant before them, informed them that their mistress
had now done all that the law required of her, and suggested that
it was now their duty to obey her without troubling her further. He
also suggested that in a matter of so grave importance it would be
well that all the members of the council should unite in sharing the
responsibility of the act, in case any question should arise later
regarding it. Burleigh's proposals were carried unanimously, and
it was determined that the warrant should be given to Beale, the
clerk of council, to be conveyed by him to the Earls of Kent and
Shrewsbury, who were appointed to see to its execution. Burleigh told
Beale that the matter required great speed and secrecy, as if known,
"H.M.'s life would be in hazard."[99]

[Footnote 98: "Davison and R.B. on their arrival had a meeting with
these,--the Treasurer, E. of Derby, E. of Leicester, Lds. Cobham,
Hunsden, Chamberlain, Vice-chamberlain, and Wolley."--Yelverton MSS.,
f. 224--Talbot's Report.]

[Footnote 99: No officer of the Chancery knew of the sealing of the
commission save the Chancellor and Davison.--Yelverton MSS., f. 224.]

Paulet's letter reached London on 4th February, but it was not
communicated to Elizabeth till the next day, Sunday. That morning the
Queen sent for Davison, on whom, owing to Walsingham's illness, fell
the unpleasing task of showing her the letter. At first the Queen
made no allusion to the subject. She related to him that she had
dreamed the previous night that she was punishing him for being the
cause of the death of the Queen of Scots, adding with a smile that
she had been so possessed by this dream that if she had had a sword
at hand she would have pierced him through with it. Davison, justly
alarmed at the Queen's sinister tone and ambiguous words, once more
asked her if she had decided to have the Queen of Scots executed or
not.

"Yes," cried she impetuously, but, she continued, "I do not like the
legal method, as upon me alone will fall all the responsibility;" and
as Davison repeated his objections to any other method, Elizabeth
shrugged her shoulders, and looking at him contemptuously, remarked
that "wiser men than he held a different opinion." Then suddenly
changing the subject, the Queen inquired if there had been any reply
from Paulet. When Davison, in fear and trembling, had presented
the letter, she read it with extreme indignation. Pacing the room
uneasily, she gave way to violent anger and disappointment, and
abused Paulet in no measured terms. He was no longer her "loving
Amyas," but one of those "dainty and precise" fellows who would
promise everything and perform nothing. Nay, more, he was a perjurer;
for had he not subscribed the bond of association, by which he
obliged himself, at the hazard of his life, to save his Queen? "But,"
added Elizabeth, "I can do without him; I have Wingfield, who will
not draw back."

For the next few days Elizabeth made no further sign. She maintained
an absolute reserve on the subject which was torturing her till the
morning of the day of execution, when, throwing off the mask, she
told Davison that it was time this ended, adding with a terrible oath
that it was a shame for her ministers that the affair was not yet
terminated. Her ministers had indeed ended all, as she was soon to
learn.[100]

[Footnote 100: See Chantelauze, pp. 371-379.]

As soon as Beale had received the warrant he started for
Fotheringay.[101] Yet the question of the manner of Mary's death
was even still undecided, as we learn by the following curious facts
now first brought to light: "When R.B. (Robert Beale) was come to
Fotheringay, he understood from Sir A. Paulet and Sir Drue Drury
that they had been dealt with by a letter if they could have been
induced to suffer her to have been violently smothered by some that
should have been appointed for that purpose. But they disliked that
course as dishonourable and dangerous, and so did R.B., and therefore
thought it convenient to have it done by law in such sort as they
might justify their doings by law."[102] And here Beale adds in his
own hand the following: "One Wingfield (as it was thought) should
have been appointed for this deed, and it seemed that H.M. would
have had it done so rather than otherwise, pretending that Archibald
Douglas, the Sco. Ambassador, had so advised her. Of all her
councillors it is thought that the Earl of Leicestre did most exhort
her unto this course, but both the secretaries misliked thereof, and
so did Sir Amis Paulet and Sir Drue Drury. H.M. would fain have had
it so, alledging the association whereby men seemed bound to such a
thing and promising pardon. But the matter being in consideration at
R.B. being at Fotheringay by the example of Edward II. and Richard
II., it was not thought convenient or safe to proceed covertly but
openly, according to the statute."[103]

[Footnote 101: "To divert attention from R.B. leaving London, a
commission was given to him to go into Herts, Bedf., etc., to hear
hues and cries."--Yelverton MSS., f. 224.]

[Footnote 102: Report sent up by Mr. Henry Talbot, third son of Earl
of Shrewsbury. Yelverton MSS., f. 31.]

[Footnote 103: Yelverton MSS. 31, f. 529. See Queen Mary's words at
chap. viii. p. 159.]

Walsingham had taken upon himself all the arrangements with the
executioner, telling Beale "that he would take order to send down the
hangman (Bull) and his instrument by George Digby, his servant....
He was hired by one Anthony Hall, a Londoner, servant under the sd.
Mr. Secretary, and then dwelling without Bishops Gate, who afterwards
reported unto the said R.B. (Robert Beale) and others, that he
agreed with him for £10 for his labour." Walsingham sent Digby first
to Sir Walter Mildmay, begging him to lodge the executioner at his
house Apthorpe, distant but two miles from Fotheringay. But Sir
Walter,--and we are not surprised to learn it,--"misliked therof,"
and he was eventually lodged "in an inn at Fotheringay, kept secretly
until the day."[104] Walsingham had announced Bull's arrival to
Paulet in these terms: "I send down the executioner by a trusty
servant of mine, who will be at Fotheringay upon Sunday at night. His
instrument is put in a trunk, and he passeth as a serving-man. There
is great care taken to have the matter pass in secresy"[105] (signed
London, 3rd February).

[Footnote 104: MSS. folio 525, Yelverton; Lord Calthorpe. Note in
Beale's hand.]

[Footnote 105: MSS. folio 533. Lord Walsingham to Paulet by Digby,
3rd February.]

After informing the Earl of Kent of his duty on the way, Beale had
reached Fotheringay on Sunday evening, 5th February, where he showed
his commission to Paulet and Drury, and the next day he hastened to
communicate it to the Earl of Shrewsbury, who was staying in the
neighbourhood. That same evening Beale returned to the castle to dine
with Paulet, accompanied by several persons who were to be present
at the execution--among them was Dr. Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough.
And here let us pause on the eve of the day which brought the fatal
tidings to Queen Mary. If Elizabeth was troubled in mind, and haunted
with remorse, Mary, on the contrary, awaited in absolute calm and
resignation the end of her life of sorrows.[106]

[Footnote 106: Beale's note continues thus: "Wherefore the speech
delivered to the Sc. Queen the day before her death was, that the
Earls had a message to deliver unto her from H. Mty., which she
should understand by the commission under H. Mty's. hand and great
seal openly shewed and read. And for that purpose the commission was
also openly read upon the scaffold, and divers gentlemen's hands
taken unto a declaration of the manner of her execution, the original
wherof remaineth with the E. of Shrewsbury."]




CHAPTER X

THE LAST DAY ON EARTH


"On Tuesday the 7th of February several persons arrived, among
whom it is supposed was the sheriff, who all dined with Sir Amyas.
After dinner came the Comte de Kent, and last of all Monsieur de
Sheresburg, at whose arrival we were all dismayed and in great
fear, having for the last three days imagined many coming evils for
Her Majesty, who herself felt convinced that the blow was about to
fall."[107]

[Footnote 107: Walsingham wrote to Paulet to this effect: "This will
be brought by Beale along with the commission for the execution
of your charge. R.B. cannot well arrive before Monday at 10
A.M. It is thought well that the two Earls should in some
place meet unto you and have some conference touching the form of the
exc'n. You may do well to think of some convenient place for the
purpose. I send you a letter to the sheriff from my lords unsealed,
to the end you may see what colour is used for his employment."

Walsingham's Memorial, see Appendix, p. 266.]

Bourgoing's simple words need no comment. It is easy to realise the
suspense and anxiety experienced during these days by Mary's faithful
servants. Bourgoing thus continues: "They sent to ask to speak with
Her Majesty, who replied that she was in bed, but that if the matter
were pressing she begged for a little time to get up. Receiving for
answer that the matter was of consequence, Her Majesty prepared to
receive them in her chamber seated in her chair at the foot of her
bed. When the two said Counts, together with Mr. Beale, Mr. Paulet,
and Sir Drue Drury, were come, all of whom remained uncovered while
conversing with Her Majesty,[108] the Comte de Sheresburg commenced
to say that the Queen of England had sent them to her in her own
name and that of the state, to make known to her that after having
proceeded as she knew honourably and as was expedient for the affair
of which she was accused, found guilty, and therefore condemned,
as she knew and had been made aware of, on the part of the Queen,
she must now hear her sentence read, which he and le Comte de Kent,
together with Mr. Beale, were appointed to carry out according to
the Queen's intention; and thereupon the said Beale began to read
a document on parchment, to which was appended the great seal of
England in yellow wax, in which Her Majesty was named Mary Stuart,
daughter of James V., otherwise called Queen of Scotland, Dowager of
France."[109]

[Footnote 108: _La Mort de la Royne_, _ap._ Jebb, ii. 612.]

[Footnote 109: According to M. Kervyn de Lettenhove (_Marie Stuart_,
ii. 329) Shrewsbury expressed himself with more sympathy, and with a
return of his former friendliness for the Queen. "Madame," said he,
"I would have greatly desired that another than I should announce to
you such sad intelligence as that which I now bring on the part of
the Queen of England, but he and I being both faithful servants, I
could but obey the commandment she gave me. It is to admonish you to
prepare yourself to undergo the sentence of death pronounced against
you."]

Other writers give us a few more details which here supplement
Bourgoing's narrative.[110] The Queen seems to have received the
commissioners surrounded by her whole household, among whom her
physician is specially mentioned. We are also told that Shrewsbury
informed her that his royal mistress had delayed the execution of
the sentence as long as she was able, till at last, being pressed
on all sides, she had been obliged to cede to the importunities of
her subjects. Mary listened to the warrant with her usual calmness
and dignity.[111] "When it was finished, Her Majesty, with great
constancy and without emotion, replied:--

'I thank you for such welcome news. You will do me a great good
in withdrawing me from this world, out of which I am very glad to
go, on account of the miseries I see in it, and of being myself in
continual affliction. I am of no good and of no use to any one.
I have long looked for this, and have expected it day by day for
eighteen years. Unworthy though I think myself, I am by the grace
of God a queen born and a queen anointed, a near relative of the
Queen (of England), granddaughter of King Henry VII., and I have
had the honour to be Queen of France, but in all my life I have had
only sorrow. I am very happy that it pleases God by your means to
free me from so many evils and afflictions. I am quite ready and
very happy to die, and to shed my blood for Almighty God, my Saviour
and my Creator, and for the Catholic Church, and to maintain its
rights in this country, for the welfare of which I have always done
everything that has been possible, loving the Queen, my good sister,
and this island as dearly as myself, as I have often shown. I have
constantly offered to arrange matters peacefully and to bring things
to a happy issue, but have always been rejected and put aside. I
have been held a prisoner without having merited it, for I came into
this country of my own free will in hope of succour, according to
the promise of the Queen. We should have agreed very well, and would
together have arranged matters so well as to satisfy every one if
I had at once been permitted to speak to her.' Mary continued to
speak on this capital point, her unjust imprisonment for eighteen
years, in violation of all laws human and divine, as also of all the
humiliation and sorrow it had brought upon her; and then, placing her
hand on an English New Testament which lay on the table by her, she
protested on oath that she was innocent of the crime imputed to her.
'I have never,' she said most solemnly, 'either desired the death of
the Queen, or endeavoured to bring it about, or that of any other
person.' The Earl of Kent objected that it was a Catholic Bible, the
Pope's version, and that therefore the oath was of no avail. 'This
is the translation approved by the Church,' replied Mary, 'and if
I swear on the book which I believe to be the true version, will
not your lordship believe my oath more than if I were to swear on a
translation in which I do not believe?'"

[Footnote 110: Chantelauze, p. 572; _La Mort_, p. 613, where the
document is given at length.]

[Footnote 111: "She seemed not to be in any Terror, for ought that
appered by any of hir outward Gesture or Behaviour (other than
marvelling shee should die), but rather with smiling Cheer and
pleasing Countenance digested and accepted the sayde Admonition of
Preparation to hir (as she sayde) unexpected Execution: saying that
hir Death should be welcome unto hir, seeing hir Majestie was so
resolved, and that that Soule were too too far unworthye the Fruition
of the Joyes of Heaven for ever, whose Bodye would not in this World
be content to endure the Stroake of the Executioner for a Moment. And
that spoken, shee wept bitterlye and became silent."--"Execution of
Mary Queen of Scots," R. Wingfield, _Clarendon Hist. Soc._]

Kent now urged Mary to think of her soul, and, being so near death,
to confess her faults and embrace the "true religion." Here are
Bourgoing's words:--

"They offered her the Dean of Peterbourg, one of the most learned
in Europe, to comfort her, from whom she might learn regarding her
salvation and which was the true religion. She had, they said,
remained in that in which she had been instructed in her youth, and
for want of some one to show her the truth, and that now as she had
little time to live--only a few hours to remain in this world--she
must think of her conscience and recognise the true religion, and not
remain longer in these follies and abominations of popery. 'We have
the true Word of God,' said they, 'and you can make the comparison
when you have spoken to the minister, and then make your choice. We
speak in conscience and with the desire that you should be in good
case at the hour of death and be converted to God.' Her Majesty said,
'I have been for long sufficiently instructed in my religion. I know
well what I ought to know of it, for my salvation and the good of my
soul. I have not only heard, or read, the words of the most learned
men of the Catholic religion, but also of the Protestant religion. I
have spoken with them and heard them preach, but I have been unable
to find anything in them which could turn me from my first belief.
When I came to this country, being in the house of Monsieur de
Sheresburg, in order to satisfy every one, and to show that I acted
only by conscience, I listened to the most able Protestant preachers
for nearly the whole of one Lent, but at the end, finding no
edification, I withdrew.' This the Earl confirmed, adding that he had
invited her to return. Mary continued: 'Having lived till now in the
true faith, this is not the time to change, but, on the contrary, it
is the very moment when it is most needful that I should remain firm
and constant, as I intend to do. Rather than be unfaithful to it I
would wish to lose ten thousand lives, if I had as many, and, if it
were possible, shed all my blood several times over, and endure all
the most cruel torments you could threaten me with. No,' concluded
the Queen; 'for my consolation I beg you to let me see my own priest,
so that he may help me to prepare the better for death. I wish for no
other.'"

On this subject Elizabeth had given stringent orders to the
commissioners,[112] and the dying Queen's last request was cruelly
denied. "It is our duty," said the lords, "to prevent such
abominations which offend God," and they once more pressed her to see
the Dean.

[Footnote 112: M. Chantelauze, p. 387.]

"No," replied the Queen vehemently, "I will do no such thing. I
have nothing to do with him, and I neither wish to see him nor to
listen to him. Let no one take any more trouble to persuade me. I
see well that they would wish to destroy my soul together with my
body if they could, but they will not succeed. I hope that God will
have mercy upon me, as I have already prepared myself (for death).
He knows my heart, my will, my intentions, and what is my desire and
resolve. He will succour me and grant me pardon for my faults. It
surprises me that at the end, when I have most need of my priest,
they refuse him to me; I had asked to have him, especially to assist
me at my last end. The Queen of England had granted my request and
had allowed him to come to me; and since then they have taken him
from me and prevented him from coming at the most necessary time,--a
thing too cruel and inhuman, and unworthy of Englishmen."[113] The
commissioners again declared that it was against their conscience to
allow her to see her chaplain, and denied having known that he had
been previously permitted to return to Fotheringay.

[Footnote 113: Chantelauze, p. 573.]

In the midst of so much painful discussion, and under the trial of
being denied the only consolation she desired, Kent's next words
must have brought a great joy to Mary. She who had so often and
so ardently wished to shed her blood for her faith, was now to be
given good cause of thinking her desires were about to be fulfilled.
Kent told the Queen "that it had been decided that she could not
live without endangering the state, the life of the Queen, and the
religion. Your life," said he, "would be the death of our religion,
your death will be its life."[114]

[Footnote 114: _La Mort de la Royne_, p. 621; Chantelauze, p. 575.]

"I was far," exclaimed Mary, "from thinking myself worthy of such a
death, and I humbly receive it as a token of my admission among the
elect servants of God."[115] Mary begged to know whether the other
powers had interceded for her. She was told that they had done so,
but that not one of them could show a good reason why she should
not be put to death. She then spoke of her son, complaining of his
conduct to her, but she was told that he had done all that was in his
power, and that she ought to die in charity. "I forgive every one,"
replied Mary, "and accuse no one; but I may follow David's example
and pray God to confound and punish His enemies and those of His
divinity and religion, and pardon our enemies."

[Footnote 115: Miss Strickland, vii. 469; see Kervyn de Lettenhove,
ii. 333.]

The Queen asked when she was to die. "Tomorrow morning at eight
o'clock,"[116] replied Shrewsbury in faltering tones. Mary remarked
that the time was very short. She had been unable, she said, to
make her will for want of her papers and the account books of her
household. She again asked to be permitted to see her chaplain, and
to have her papers restored to her. Both requests were unavailing.
Her papers, she was told, were in Wade's hands, who was then in
France. The Queen then anxiously inquired what Queen Elizabeth had
decided regarding her place of burial, and whether she would permit
her body to lie beside her royal husband's in St. Denis, or at least
by her mother in the church of St. Peter at Rheims.

[Footnote 116: Jebb, _ibid._; Chantelauze, p. 575.]

The lords replied that their mistress would not allow her to be
buried in France. "At least then," continued Mary, "my requests in
favour of my servants will be granted?" They replied that they had no
instructions on this point, but that they saw nothing which should
prevent her attendants acting as she wished and having their goods.
The lords and their party now withdrew. As they were bowing farewell
to the Queen, she asked them what had become of Nau and Curle.

"We do not know," they replied.

"Is Nau dead?" said Mary.

"No," they answered; and Drury added, "He has not escaped; he still
drags his fetters."

"Her Majesty," says Bourgoing, "said that she was to die for him who
accused her, and who caused her to die to save himself."

The commissioners told her that she was under their guardianship, but
that from this moment they entrusted her to Sir Amyas's care, to be
delivered to them when they should come.

Mary's followers endeavoured to obtain a reprieve for their beloved
mistress. "The servants of Her Majesty with tears and cries declared
that the time was too short for her to put her affairs in order. It
was impossible that the night could be long enough; she was leaving
her servants destitute of all means. They begged the lords to have
pity on them, saying that it appeared that by the terms of their
commission they had power to have the execution when they wished, and
praying them to defer it for some few hours." Bourgoing, who appears
to have been the spokesman, addressing Lord Shrewsbury, reminded him
how he had cared for his lordship once when he was ill, and recalled
the sentiments of generous compassion which he had shown in other
days for the Queen when she was his prisoner.

Beale himself said that by the terms of the commission a delay might
be granted, but Lord Shrewsbury answered that "he had no power to
grant the smallest delay";[117] and having bowed to the Queen, he
retired with the other commissioners.

[Footnote 117: See Chantelauze, pp. 390, 391; _La Mort_, p. 625.]

When she was left alone with her sorrowful attendants, the Queen,
turning to them, said: "Well, Jane Kennedy, did I not tell you this
would happen? Did I not well know that they desired to do as they
have done? I saw well by those proceedings at what they aimed. I knew
they would never allow me to live; I was too great an obstacle to
their religion. Well, let supper be hastened, so that I may put my
affairs in order. My children," continued Mary, "it is now no time
to weep; that is useless; what do you now fear? You should rather
rejoice to see me on such a good road to being delivered from the
many evils and afflictions which have so long been my portion. I am
of no good in this world--I am of use to no one; you should rather,
like me, console yourselves that it has pleased God to give me this
grace,--that I die for so good a quarrel. I return thanks to Him,
and thank Him with a very good heart that it has pleased Him to call
me at this hour, and that He has given me such good occasion to
suffer death for His holy name, His true religion, and His Church.
No greater good could befall me in this world. You see--are you now
not witnesses?--why they put me to death. Consider why they sent Lord
Kent with his disputes and religious controversies. Have not they now
plainly shown their intention? Is it not notorious that they have
always feared that if I lived they would never be in safety regarding
their religion? Therefore," concluded Mary, "let each one be patient
and leave us here to pray to God."[118]

[Footnote 118: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Jebb, ii. 625.]

When all the men had left her room, the Queen spent some time in
prayer with her women. Then she set herself to count her money,
and after dividing it into several parts, put each amount into as
many little purses, with a paper on which the name of each of her
servants was written in her own hand.[119]

[Footnote 119: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Jebb, ii. 625.]

At supper, which had been hastened according to her order, she, as
usual, ate little. Her sorrowing attendants rivalled each other in
zeal to serve and wait upon her, listening eagerly to her slightest
word. Since Melville's departure, Bourgoing had taken his place
as steward. He now presented the dishes with one trembling hand,
furtively wiping away his tears with the other. Mary alone remained
perfectly calm. Sometimes she seemed absorbed in a profound reverie,
while a sweet smile animated her countenance, as if she had received
some joyful tidings; at others she conversed with her faithful
physician. "Did you remark, Bourgoing," said she, "what Lord Kent
said in his interview with me? He said that my life would have been
the death of their religion, and that my death will be its life. Oh,
how happy those words make me! Here at last is the truth. It has
declared itself in a striking manner, and I beg you to observe it.
They told me that I was to die because I had plotted against the
Queen, and here is Lord Kent sent to me to convert me, and what does
he tell me?--that I am to die on account of my religion. If he hoped
to make me embrace his faith," continued Mary with a smile, "he
has quite lost his time, and certainly to convince me it would have
required another sort of doctor than that one. For all the lives in
the world I would not change in one little thought."[120]

[Footnote 120: Chantelauze, p. 393.]

"When supper was over," says Bourgoing, "Her Majesty sent for all
her servants and exhorted them to mutual charity, and in a long
discourse took leave of them, forgiving them all, and begging them
to pray God for her. She admonished each separately, charging them
to live at peace with each other, and to give up all past enmities
or bitterness, and she showed in all this great proofs of wisdom,
understanding, and constancy."

As the end draws near, the faithful physician curtails his journal,
as if unable to describe more fully what it grieved him so deeply
to witness, but other authorities give us a fuller picture of
this affecting scene, which will serve to supplement this brief
description.[121]

[Footnote 121: Some of the facts of Bourgoing's narrative of the last
days were communicated by him to the anonymous author of the _Mort de
la Royne d'Escosse_, and to Blackwood. See Jebb, ii.]

At the close of supper, and when her attendants were all assembled
round her, the Queen drank to their welfare and asked them if they
would not drink to hers. They all threw themselves on their knees,
and mingling their tears with the wine, begged her forgiveness for
any faults they might have been guilty of.

"With all my heart, my children," she replied with a gentle smile,
"even as I pray you to forgive me any injustice or harshness of which
I may have been guilty towards you."

She reminded them of their duty to God, and exhorted them to remain
firm and constant in their faith, and to live together in good
friendship and charity as fellow-Christians, which she said would
now be easier, as Nau was no longer among them to sow discord. The
Queen repeated that Nau was the cause of her death, but that she
forgave him. Although she seems to have felt keenly Nau's apparent
ingratitude, and to have fully believed the reports of his conduct,
which appeared to be only too well founded,[122] Mary was not unjust
to him, as she declares expressly in her will that if Nau can be
proved innocent towards her, he is to have his pension.[123]

[Footnote 122: Chantelauze, p. 394.]

[Footnote 123: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Jebb, ii. 625;
Blackwood, Jebb, ii. p. 302.]

Seated in an arm-chair, with an inventory in her hand, the Queen now
examined the contents of her wardrobe,[124] and distributed among her
attendants the garments and jewels and the small quantity of silver
plate and valuable furniture which had escaped the search at Chartley
and Queen Elizabeth's rapacity. She accompanied each gift with some
kind and gracious word, which enhanced its value tenfold. Mary also
charged her followers to take certain mementos from her to her son,
to the King and Queen of France, the King of Spain, Catherine of
Medici, her cousins of Lorraine, and other friends. No one, absent
or present, was forgotten.[125] When all was arranged, about nine
o'clock the Queen wrote the following letter to her chaplain, begging
him to watch in spirit with her, and to pray for her:--

[Footnote 124: "Elle annonça l'intention de descendre dans sa
garde-robe pour leur en faire le partage; mais Bourgoing lui
representa qu'elle recontrerait les gardes, placés aux pied de
l'escalier."--K. de Lettenhove, ii. 338.]

[Footnote 125: Among these last gifts Bourgoing received "two rings,
two small silver boxes, the Queen's two Lutes, her music-book bound
in velvet, and the red hangings of her bed." While among those given
to Elizabeth Curle we find mentioned a gold and enamelled tablet
containing portraits of the Queen, her husband (Francis II.), and
her son. This portrait, it seems probable, was the original of the
picture of Mary afterwards placed in the Church of St. Andrew in
Antwerp.]


     TO PRÉAU.[126]

     [Footnote 126: The original French in Labanoff, vi. 483;
     and in Blackwood, _ap._ Jebb, ii. 303.]

     No date (_7th February 1587_).

     I have been attacked to-day concerning my religion, and
     urged to receive consolation from the heretics. You
     will hear from Bourgoin and the others that I at least
     faithfully made protestation for my faith, in which I wish
     to die. I requested to have you [with me], in order that I
     might make my confession and receive my Sacrament, which
     was cruelly refused me, as well as leave for my body to be
     removed, and the power of making a free Will, or writing
     anything except what shall pass through their hands and be
     subject to the good pleasure of their mistress. In default
     of that, I confess in general the gravity of my sins, as
     I had intended to do to you in particular, begging you in
     the name of God to pray and watch with me this night in
     satisfaction for my sins, and to send me your Absolution,
     and pardon for the things in which I have offended you.
     I shall try to see you in their presence, as they have
     allowed me to see the steward,[127] and if I am allowed,
     I shall ask the blessing on my knees before all. Advise
     me as to the most appropriate prayers for this night and
     to-morrow morning, as the time is short and I have no
     leisure to write; but I will recommend you, as well as the
     others, and especially your Benefices shall be spared to
     you, and I will recommend you to the King. I have no more
     time. Tell me in writing of all that you shall think best
     for the good of my soul. I shall send you a last little
     token.

[Footnote 127: Melville.]

She then drew up her will. This long and interesting document,
written, as the Queen says, "being near to death," testifies to her
faith and last wishes. Mary declares that she dies in the Catholic
faith, and orders that solemn services for the repose of her soul
shall be held at St. Denis and at the Church of St. Pierre at
Rheims. She directs that all her debts shall be paid, and whatever
money shall remain over she leaves for legacies to her servants.
She appoints as her executors the Duke of Guise, the Archbishop of
Glasgow, the Bishop of Ross, and her Chancellor, du Ruisseau.[128]

[Footnote 128: This will was preserved for long at the Scotch College
in Paris. It bore the traces of the tears shed by the Queen as she
wrote it.--Strickland, vii. 482; see also Blackwood, p. 304.]

When Mary had written her will, she concluded a letter to the King of
France which she had begun on the previous day. Perhaps few historic
relics are more touching than this letter, the original of which we
have seen, and which, by its firm, clear characters, bears testimony
to the perfect calmness and tranquillity of mind with which it was
written.


     LETTER TO HENRY III., KING OF FRANCE.[129]

     [Footnote 129: Labanoff, vi. 492.]

     MONSIEUR, MY BROTHER-IN-LAW--It is now almost
     twenty years since I--by God's permission, and for my sins,
     as I think--came to throw myself upon the mercy of this
     Queen, my cousin, where I have had many trials; and now at
     last I am condemned to death by her and her Government.
     I have asked for my papers--which were taken by them--in
     order to make my will, but I have obtained nothing that
     can be of use to me, nor have I permission to make another
     will; and they have even refused the desire I expressed
     that my body should, after my death, be removed to your
     kingdom, where I, your sister and former ally, had the
     honour to be Queen.

     To-day after dinner it was announced to me that to-morrow,
     without fail, I must die like a criminal, at seven[130]
     o'clock of the morning.

     [Footnote 130: The copies of this letter here differ, some
     reading seven, some eight o'clock.]

     I have not had leisure to write a long account of all that
     took place, but if you will please to believe my Physician
     and those others my sorrowful Servants, you will know
     the truth, and that, thanks be to God, I despise death,
     and faithfully protest that I suffer it innocent of all
     crime, even were I their subject, which I can never be. The
     Catholic Faith and the maintenance of the right which God
     has given me to this throne, these are the two points of my
     condemnation; and yet they will not allow me to say that I
     die for the Catholic Faith, but say that I die because I am
     dangerous to their religion, and the proof of this is that
     they have taken my chaplain from me. Although he is in the
     house, I cannot obtain leave for him to hear my confession,
     nor give me Holy Communion at the hour of my death; but
     they made great efforts that I should receive consolation
     and religious instruction from their minister brought here
     for the purpose.

     The bearer of this and his companions--chiefly subjects of
     yours--will testify to you of my deportment at this the
     last scene of my life. It remains only for me to implore
     you, as Most Christian King, my brother-in-law, friend and
     ally, who have done me so much honour as to love me and
     protest of your affection, that under this blow you show
     proof of your virtue in these matters by charitably aiding
     me in that which it is impossible for me to do without your
     assistance, namely, to reward my desolate attendants by
     giving them their salaries, and by having prayer made to
     God for a Queen who has been called Very-Christian, and who
     dies a Catholic and destitute of all means.

     Regarding my son, I commend him to you inasmuch as he shall
     merit it, as I cannot answer for him; for my servants I beg
     your help with clasped hands. I venture to send you two
     rare stones, valuable for health, the which I desire you
     to have in perfection, as also I wish you a long and happy
     life. You will receive them as from your very affectionate
     sister-in-law, who in dying desires to show her affection
     for you. I will again recommend my servants to you in a
     memoranda, and you will command, if you please, that my
     soul shall benefit by a portion of that which you owe
     me, in honour of Jesus Christ, to whom I will pray for
     you to-morrow at my death. I beg you to grant sufficient
     to found an Obit, and to make the desired Alms.--This
     Wednesday, at two hours after midnight.--Your very
     affectionate good sister,

     MARIE.

When this, her last letter, was written, the Queen made a short
memorandum to recommend once more her attendants to Henry III. She
begged him to take Bourgoing as his doctor, and "to believe all he
should tell him."

Having now set all her affairs in order, Mary told her attendants
that "she wished to think no more of worldly matters, but desired to
employ the little time she had to live for the things of eternity."
It was now two o'clock in the morning. In order to imitate our
Lord, and to prepare for her last journey, the Queen had her feet
washed. Then, overcome with fatigue, she lay down on her bed without
undressing, while her women, who had already arrayed themselves in
mourning garments to mark their grief, watched and prayed around
her.[131] It was the Queen's custom to have some pages of the lives
of the saints read to her every evening. This night she desired
Jane Kennedy to look for the life of some saint who had once been a
great sinner. She stopped her at the life of the good thief, saying
humbly, "In truth he was a great sinner, but not so great as I have
been. I wish to take him for my patron for the time that remains to
me. May my Saviour, in memory of His passion, remember me and have
mercy on me, as He had of him at the hour of His death."

[Footnote 131: Chantelauze, p. 399.]

It presently occurred to the Queen that a handkerchief would be
required to bandage her eyes. She told one of her women to bring
her a very fine and beautiful one, edged with gold embroidery,
and carefully put it aside for the occasion. For some hours the
Queen rested on her bed. She lay immovable, with closed eyes and
hands crossed on her breast, but she did not sleep. Her attendants
perceived, by the movement of her lips and an occasional peaceful
smile, that she was praying, and all absorbed in the thought of
the life to come. As Jane Kennedy expressed it, she seemed to be
"laughing with the angels." Outside the Queen's room sinister noises
disturbed the silence of the night. From the great hall came ominous
sounds of hammering, and in the intervals of silence the measured
tramp of the troops posted round the castle could be distinguished.

Thus passed the dreary night, full of anguish to the watchers, but
spent in a holy calm and peace by the royal victim herself.




CHAPTER XI

THE END

     "He is not worthy of the joys of heaven whose body cannot
     suffer the stroke of the executioner."--Queen Mary to Kent,
     Camden, p. 454.


It was Tuesday morning, the 8th of February.

When the Queen heard six o'clock strike she called her women to
her, reminding them that she had but two hours to live.[132] Then
rising, she dressed herself with unusual care and magnificence, as in
preparation for some great and solemn occasion. Her robes--the only
ones she had reserved of former splendours--were such as were then
worn by queens-dowager. The skirt and bodice of black satin were worn
over a petticoat of russet-brown velvet; while the long regal mantle,
also of black satin, embroidered with gold and trimmed with
fur, had long hanging sleeves and a train. The Queen's head-dress
was of white crape, from which fell a long veil of the same delicate
material, edged with lace. Round her neck she wore a chain of scented
beads with a cross, and at her waist a golden rosary.

[Footnote 132: The details respecting the last hours of the life of
Queen Mary are derived chiefly from two original narratives, both
of which are printed in the second volume of Jebb. They are the
following: (1) Blackwood, Adam, _Martyre de Marie Stuart_, Paris,
1644, Jebb, p. 175; (2) _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, 1589,
_ibid._ p. 611. The information which they contain has been carefully
used by Hosack, Chantelauze, Bourgoing, and Kervyn de Lettenhove,
thereby rendering unnecessary further references to the several
authorities given by Jebb.]

[Illustration: Contemporary Drawing of the Execution of Mary Queen of
Scots at Fotheringay.

From the Calthorpe MS.]

[Illustration: List of Names, in Beale's handwriting, of those
present at the Execution.

Accompanying the Calthorpe Drawing.]

While Mary dressed she gave orders that all her household should
assemble. When this was done, Bourgoing, by her desire, read her
will aloud, after which she signed it, and gave it to him to deliver
to the Duke of Guise, entrusting him at the same time with her
"principal notes and papers" and her gifts to the King and Queen
of France; then sending for the casket containing her money, Mary
distributed the little purses she had prepared the evening before,
and put aside a sum of 700 écus for the poor, which was afterwards
given to M. de Préau to distribute. To each of her male attendants
the Queen also gave two rose nobles to be given to the poor, _à
son intention_, nor were the immediate wants of the little band of
followers forgotten, for the Queen gave 150 écus to Bourgoing to help
to defray the journey to France. The whole sum at Mary's disposal for
her last donations did not exceed 5000 écus.

When all was arranged the Queen took farewell of her people,
exhorting and consoling them, once more embracing the women and
giving her hand to be kissed by the men. "My dear friends," she said,
"I regret infinitely that I have not been able to show my gratitude
to you in deed, as I should have wished, for the good and faithful
services you have rendered me in my need.... I beg you all to
assist at my death, and to testify to my unalterable devotion to my
religion. Be the witnesses of my last acts and my last words. I could
not find any more faithful."

The Queen now passed into the ante-chamber, which was arranged as
an oratory; and kneeling before the altar, "where mass was said
secretly before her chaplain was taken from her," she remained for
a long time in prayer, surrounded by her attendants, praying and
weeping together. At length Bourgoing, seeing her extreme paleness
and fearing for her strength, as he knew she was unable to kneel for
any long time, assisted the Queen to rise, and brought her a little
bread and wine, which she accepted willingly, thanking him by a smile
for his care in bringing her her last repast. She had hardly resumed
her prayers when a loud knocking was heard at the door. It was locked
inside, and the messenger, raising his voice, announced that the
lords were waiting.

Mary, without rising, and the door remaining closed, desired her
attendants to ask for a few moments' delay, that she might finish
her devotions. As eight o'clock had already struck, which was the
latest hour they had assigned, the commissioners feared that the
Queen meant to offer resistance, and ordered Paulet's soldiers to
break open the door and to bring her by force, if at a fresh summons
she refused to appear; but the Queen had no such thought. Calm and
ready for her sacrifice, she waited in prayer for the final summons.
At the second knock the door opened, and the sheriff, bearing his
white wand, entered alone. When he perceived Mary kneeling before the
altar, surrounded by her household and wrapt in prayer, he was silent
from surprise and perhaps emotion, and after a moment's pause could
only murmur, "Madame, the lords have sent me to you."

"Yes, let us go," replied the Queen in a firm voice, turning towards
him. Bourgoing, while he supported her under the arms to help her to
rise, asked her whether she wished him to give her the ivory crucifix
from the altar. "You have given me great pleasure by reminding me,"
she replied. "It was my intention." She took the cross in her hands,
kissed it with fervour, and gave it to Annibal Stuart, her groom of
the chamber (_valet de chambre_), to carry before her. Then, assisted
by Bourgoing and preceded by the sheriff, she proceeded. Before she
passed the threshold, however, Bourgoing, impelled by a feeling of
delicacy and affection with which we can sympathise, told her that
neither he nor any of her other attendants could bear to offer her
their arm to deliver her to her executioners; the only consolation
that remained to them, he said, would be to follow her to assist her
to her last breath. "You are right," returned Mary; and addressing
the sheriff, she added, "My servants do not wish to lead me to death.
I cannot walk without help; let me be a little assisted." Two of
Paulet's soldiers came and supported her, and the sad procession
moved on, Mary's weeping attendants walking, some in front, some
behind. At the door the Queen's followers were stopped, however, and
forbidden to follow her farther.

"Then these insist, and pleaded strongly to accompany her. All, even
the women, had it been possible, would have used force, declaring
that it was not permissible that they should take her away without
any one being with her; it was not the custom for princesses to go
thus alone, asking what they wanted to do with her now, who for
nineteen years had not left her in any place whatsoever without some
one to assist her; that it was not seemly to make her die without
having her servants present as witnesses to her actions, or they must
suppose that they wished to execute some unworthy cruelty which they
wished to conceal....

"In all this Bourgoing did not spare himself, thinking he had more
credit than the others," etc.

But it was all in vain; they were forced back with menaces into the
Queen's apartments.

Mary said nothing, but that they did her wrong in preventing her
servants from assisting at her death, and this as gently as possible.

Then taking the crucifix from Annibal, and the gold broidered
handkerchief which she had had prepared the night before, the Queen
took farewell of her poor servants, whose grief was heartbreaking.
"They took leave of her with cries and lamentations, some kissing
her hands, some her feet, while others kissed her dress, and she,
embracing them, was taken away all alone."

Supported by Paulet's guards, the Queen descended the great
staircase. On the first landing the Lords Kent and Shrewsbury were
waiting for her. They were struck with the perfect tranquillity
and noble demeanour with which she walked to meet her death. At
the bottom of the staircase her faithful master of the household,
Melville, who had now been separated from her for three weeks, was
permitted to approach. As soon as he saw his mistress he fell at her
feet to receive her last instructions, and in accents of profoundest
despair told her "how much such a leave-taking was difficult for him
to bear, as he had to endure such a sight after having been so long
separated from her."

"As thou hast always been a good and faithful servant to me," replied
Mary, "so I beg thee to continue in these same sentiments towards my
son.[133] I die with the regret of not having been able to acquit
myself towards thee, but to him is reserved the joy of recompensing
thee. Tell him to keep me in memory, and report to him faithfully
what thou shalt have seen of his mother's last moments. I have not
attacked his religion any more than that of others, and I wish him
all prosperity. As I pardon all in Scotland who have offended me, so
would I wish that they would pardon me. May God enlighten my son, and
send him His Holy Spirit."

[Footnote 133: She "charged him as he would answer before God, to
deliver her speeches and messages to her son in such sort as she did
speak them, all which tended to will him to govern wisely in the fear
of God, to take heed to whom he betook his chiefest trust, and not
to be an occasion to be evil thought of by the Queen of England, her
good sister."--MSS. Cal. B. v. f. 175 b.]

Melville, overcome with grief, exclaimed, "Madame, it will be the
sorrowfullest message that ever I carried when I shall report that my
Queen and mistress is dead."[134]

[Footnote 134: "'Ah, madame, unhappy me, what man on Earth was ever
before the Messenger of so important Sorrow and Heaviness as I shall
be, when I shall Reporte that my good and gracious Queen and Mistress
is behedded in England?' This sayde, Tears prevented him of any
further speaking; whereupon the sayde Queen, powring forth hir dying
Tears, thus answered him," etc. etc.--"Account of the Execution by
Robert Wyngfield" (Clarendon Hist. Soc.)]

"Not so," rejoined Mary. "To-day, good Melville, thou seest the end
of Mary Stuart's miseries, that should rejoice thee. Thou knowest
that the world is but vanity and misery. Be the bearer of this news,
that I die a Catholic, firm in my religion, a faithful Scotchwoman
and a true Frenchwoman. God forgive those who have sought my death.
He who is the true Judge of the secret thoughts and actions of men,
knows what their intentions have been, and that I have always desired
to see England and Scotland happily united. Commend me to the King my
son,[135] and tell him that I have done nothing that could prejudice
his kingdom of Scotland or the dignity of sovereign princes, nor
anything which could derogate from our prerogatives and superiority.
Take him my blessing." At these words she made the sign of the cross,
as if to bless her son.

[Footnote 135: "But commend me to my son once again, and tell him
that I have not done anything that can be prejudicial to his state,
and say unto him from me that he trust not too much to practices and
policies, for practices and policies will have an end."--See Ashmole
MSS., Appendix, p. 258.]

"The hour has struck," interrupted one of the commissioners. The
Queen embraced Melville, who had remained all the time on his knees,
saying, "And thus adieu, good Melville, till we meet in the next
world;--and pray to God for me," she added as she moved on, making an
effort to restrain her tears.

The contemporary accounts of this scene all note that Mary addressed
Melville with the familiar "thou," "in which it is to be remarked,"
says Blackwood, "that the Queen never had used this term 'thou' to
any one, whoever he might be." At this moment William Fitzwilliam,
the Castellan of Fotheringay, advanced and respectfully kissed Mary's
hand. We have before referred to the gratitude felt by the Queen
for this gentleman's courtesy and sympathy,--a gratitude which she
evinced by making him a small present before her death.

The Queen, addressing Kent and Shrewsbury, earnestly begged them to
intercede with Queen Elizabeth on behalf of her secretary Curle,
"and for certayne monye to be paid to him," and also to permit her
servants to assist at her death, so that they might bear witness
that she persevered in her faith to her last breath.[136] To her
first request they returned no answer, but after conferring together
regarding the second, they asked Mary which of her people she wished
to be with her, limiting the number to five or six. She mentioned
Melville, Bourgoing, Pierre Gorion, Jacque Gervais, Didier; and of
her women Elizabeth Curle and Jane Kennedy.

[Footnote 136: "The true report of the death of that rare and
princely martyr Mary Stuardo," etc.--_Mary Queen of Scots_, vol. xxi.
No. 14. "Being come into the hall, she stayed, and with a smiling
countenance asked Shrewsbury why none of her own servants were
suffered to be present at her death. He answered that the Queen his
mistress had so commanded.

"And that all her poor servants might enjoy that quietly which by her
will and testament she had given them. And lastly, that they might
be well entreated and sent home safely and honestly into their own
country. And to this I do conjure you my lords to do."--See Tanner
MSS., Appendix, p. 250.]

To the men no objection was raised, but the lords absolutely refused
to allow the women to enter the hall, declaring that their cries and
lamentations would be an occasion of trouble and scandal, as no doubt
they would wish to dip their handkerchiefs in the Queen's blood.

"Alas! poor souls," replied the Queen, "they will do none of the
things you fear, my lords; I promise you that in their name. No, your
Queen, who is a maiden Queen, cannot have given this cruel order to
refuse to the women of another Queen the consolation of assisting
at her death. Assuredly you would not wish to refuse me such a just
request. My dear women only ask one boon--that of being present at my
last moments." As Mary uttered these words she was observed to weep,
the first tears she had shed since the reading of the warrant of
execution.

Kent and Shrewsbury still hesitated. "Do you then forget," exclaimed
the Queen, with noble indignation, "that I am cousin to your Queen,
that I am of the blood royal of Henry VII., that I am Queen-Dowager
of France, and anointed Queen of Scotland?"[137]

[Footnote 137: Account of Mary's execution in a letter to
Burleigh-Ellis, 2nd series, p. 258.]

Vanquished by this appeal, the commissioners permitted that Jane
Kennedy and Elizabeth Curle, the two women designated by Mary, should
accompany her.[138]

[Footnote 138: "The above named were sent for, who were, together
with the others, in prayer, and at their arrival thought she was
dead, but being descended into the hall, found that they were only
commencing to read her sentence.

"Who coming into the hall and seeing the place of execution prepared
and their sovereign mistress expecting death, they began to cry out
in most woful and pitiful sort. Wherewith she held up her hands,
willing them for her sake to forbear and be silent. 'For,' quoth she,
'I have passed my word to these lords that you shall be quiet and
not offend them.' And presently there appeared in them a wonderful
show of subjection and loyal obedience, as to their natural prince,
whom even at the instant of death they honoured with all reverence
and duty. For though their breasts were seen to rise and swell
as if their wounded hearts would burst in sunder, yet did they
(to their double grief) forbear outward plaints to accomplish her
pleasure."--Contemporary MSS.]

The procession now moved on and entered the hall; the sheriff and his
escort leading the way, followed by Paulet, Drury, Beale, and the
two earls. The Queen followed, attended by Bourgoing and her other
servants, Melville carrying her train.

The great hall of the castle was hung entirely with black. At the
upper end of the apartment, near the large Gothic fireplace, "in
which was a great fire,"[139] stood the scaffold, which was raised
about two feet from the ground, and measured about twelve feet
square. It was covered with black serge, as were the stool and
cushion prepared for the Queen, and surrounded on three sides by a
balustrade, made low enough to allow the spectators to see all that
passed. At the fourth side, towards the end of the hall, the scaffold
was approached by two steps. The block, made of oak and covered
also with black, was placed near the chimney-piece. By it stood the
executioner and his assistant, both in long black velvet gowns, with
white aprons, and both wearing black masks. The executioner bore a
large axe mounted with a short handle, "like those with which they
cut wood."[140] In front of the block chairs were placed for my Lords
Kent and Shrewsbury. Two other chairs, placed higher up the room,
outside the balustrade, awaited Paulet and Drury. Round the scaffold
was stationed a guard of halberdiers, the men of Huntingdon.[141]
Among the 300 spectators who alone were permitted to enter the hall
might be observed Lord Montague, his eldest son, and Robert Tyrell.
A large crowd surrounded the castle, kept in order by a troop of
horsemen which had arrived the preceding night.

[Footnote 139: Contemporary MSS., f. 175 b.]

[Footnote 140: Chantelauze, p. 578.]

[Footnote 141: These details regarding the scaffold are taken chiefly
from the valuable drawing of the execution found among Beale's
papers.--Yelverton MSS.]

The Queen had now reached the threshold of the hall.[142] When she
perceived the scaffold she elevated the crucifix which she carried
above her head, and undismayed by the terrible scene before her,
advanced with great dignity.[143] Arrived at the scaffold, Mary,
unable to ascend the steps without assistance, accepted Paulet's arm,
saying gently, "Thanks for your courtesy, Sir Amyas; this will be the
last trouble I shall give you, and the most agreeable service you
have ever rendered me." Mary seated herself on the stool covered with
black prepared for her with her usual grace and majesty, Shrewsbury
and Kent standing on each side of her, the sheriff in front. She
made the sign of the cross, then addressing Elizabeth's officers,
she begged them of their good pleasure to bring her chaplain to her,
in order that she might console herself in God, and receive from him
some admonitions with his last blessing; the which was absolutely
refused her. Beale now ascended the scaffold and read aloud the royal
commission for the execution.[144] The Queen appeared to be listening
attentively, but those near her observed, by the expression of her
countenance, that her thoughts had left the things of this world and
were occupied with those of heaven. At the conclusion of the sentence
the hall rang with a loud "God save the Queen." Mary, unmoved by this
demonstration, made the sign of the cross.[145] Shrewsbury, turning
to her, said, "Madame, you hear what we are commanded to do."

[Footnote 142: "From the moment of her arrival in the hall until
she received the blow of the axe, no change was perceptible in her
countenance, but, on the contrary, overcoming her suffering by her
natural fortitude, her speech was always assured, and her mode of
action was exceeding tranquil."--MSS. Report of Execution (Teulet,
iv. 153).]

[Footnote 143: In order probably to divert the attention of the
crowd, and perhaps as an insult to the Queen, the musicians placed in
the courtyard played as she entered the hall a mournful dirge, an air
commonly played at the execution of witches. The MSS. of this music
was discovered some years ago at Oxford, and is now published.]

[Footnote 144: "During the reading of which commission the Queen of
Scots was silent, listening unto it with as small regard as if it
had not concerned her at all, and with as cheerfull countenance as
if it had been a pardon from Her Majesty for her life, using as much
strangeness in word and deed as if she had never known any of the
assembly, or had been ignorant of the English language."--See Tanner
MSS., Appendix, p. 252.]

[Footnote 145: Conn says that at the conclusion of the reading the
Queen, looking at her crucifix, was heard to say, "Judica me, Deus,
et discerne causam meam."]

"Do your duty," Mary answered simply. She again made the sign of the
cross, and looking at the assembly "with a joyous countenance, her
beauty more apparent than ever, a bright colour in her face," she
made a speech, of which her servants recorded the sense at least, if
not the text.

"My lords," said Mary, "I was born a queen, a sovereign princess,
not subject to laws, a near relative of the Queen of England and her
legitimate heir. After having been long and wrongfully imprisoned
in this country, where I have endured many pains and evils, no one
having any right or power over me, I am now, through force, and
being in men's power, about to close my life. I thank my God that
He has permitted that in this hour I die for my religion, and that
He has given me this grace that before dying I have been brought
before a company who will be witness that I die Catholic. As to
the crime which they have fixed upon me--the death of the Queen--I
never suggested it, nor consented to it, nor to anything against
her person. I have always loved her, and the country also. I have
offered myself, under many good and most honourable conditions, to
bring to an end the troubles of this kingdom and my deliverance from
captivity, but I was neither heard nor believed. You, my lords, and
you, Beale, know this. At last my enemies have come to the end of
their designs to make me die; however, I forgive them with a good
heart, as I do all those who have done or attempted anything against
me; and each one, whoever he may be, who may have offended me, or
done me harm, as I beg all to be so good as to forgive me. After my
death it will be known and seen to what end those who are the authors
of my being sent from this world have desired and procured my death.
I accuse no one any more than I have done previously; my tongue shall
do harm to no one."[146]

[Footnote 146: Chantelauze, p. 411. This speech was communicated by
Bourgoing to the anonymous author of _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_,
Jebb, ii.]

The Dean of Peterborough, Dr. Fletcher, now advanced, and placing
himself in front of the Queen, made her a profound reverence, and
said that he had come to her by his mistress's command in order to
prepare her for death.

"Peace, Mr. Dean," replied Mary gently, "I have nothing to do with
you; I do not wish to hear you; you can be silent if you please, and
go from hence."[147] And as he began again to exhort her, Mary said
resolutely, "You gain nothing; I will not listen to you; be silent,
please," and turned her back upon him. Fletcher, however, continued
to insist, placing himself again before her and exhorting her to
repent "of her crimes," till Shrewsbury, shocked, bade him be silent
and begin to pray.

[Footnote 147: "Mr. Dean, Mr. Dean, trouble me not; I am settled and
persuaded in the Catholick Roman faith, and mind to spend my blood in
defence of it."--See Ashmole MSS., Appendix, p. 260.]

Kent, observing that Mary often made the sign of the cross with the
crucifix she held in her hand, rudely exclaimed, "Madame, what does
it avail you to hold in your hands this vain image of Christ if you
do not bear Him in your heart?"

"How is it possible," returned the Queen gently, "to have such an
image in one's hands without the heart being profoundly touched by
it? Nothing is more suitable for a Christian about to die than to
bear in his arms the true mark of his redemption."

Shrewsbury now proposed that as the Queen would not listen to the
Dean's exhortation, they should all pray for her in common. "I thank
you, my lords," said Mary, "but I cannot pray with you, because
we are not of the same religion. Pray if you wish, I will pray
also."[148] Fletcher now commenced to pray in English that God would
grant repentance to Mary; that He would bless Queen Elizabeth in
granting her a long life, victory over her enemies, and the triumph
of the Protestant religion. This prayer was repeated in chorus by the
assembly.

[Footnote 148: Brantôme.]

Meanwhile the Queen prayed aloud in Latin, repeating some of the
penitential Psalms. The "Miserere," "In te Domine-speravi," "Qui
habitat in adjutorio," etc.[149]

[Footnote 149: "She slided off her stool, and kneeling, said divers
Latin prayers."--See Tanner MSS., Appendix, p. 253.]

When the Dean had finished his prayer there was a deep silence. Mary
continued to pray aloud, but now in English, often striking her
breast with her crucifix and kissing it with great devotion.[150]
With hands clasped and eyes raised to heaven, she prayed thus: "Send
me your Holy Spirit, Lord, that at the hour of my death He may
enlighten me and enable me to understand the mystery of your Passion,
so that I may persevere in your faith till my last breath, and that
I may bear with patience the torment inflicted in my person on the
Catholic Church. Grant, Lord," continued Mary with great fervour,
"that my death may ensure the peace and union of all Christendom,
peace between Christian princes, the conversion of England to the
true faith, the perseverance of Catholics in their creed and their
constancy in martyrdom."

[Footnote 150: "Whenever she wished to express any vehement passion
of her soul in these prayers, every one wept and wailed, seeing her
strike her breast with her crucifix of ivory, and this she did very
frequently."--Contemporary MSS., Report of Execution.]

Mary also prayed for the Pope and pastors of the Church, and for all
her enemies, "that He would pardon them as she did;"[151] for Queen
Elizabeth, "that it would please Him to give her His blessing, so
that she might worship Him in the truth;"[152] and for her son's
conversion to the Catholic faith. She declared that she hoped to be
saved in, and by, the blood of Christ, at the foot of whose crucifix
she would shed her blood,[153] and lovingly confided herself to the
protection of the blessed Virgin and all the saints, invoking in
particular St. Peter, and St. Andrew, the patron of Scotland. When
her prayer was finished the Queen once more kissed the crucifix, and
looking upon it with an expression of love and immense confidence,
she exclaimed, "As Thy arms, my God, were extended on a cross, so
receive me into the arms of Thy mercy. Extend to me Thy mercy, and
pardon me all my sins." "Then turning herself towards the side on
which her attendants were, she asked them in like manner to pray her
Saviour to condescend to receive her, and forthwith she embraced
them with great fortitude ... kissing her cross without ceasing."
The Queen now rose and reseated herself.[154] Kent and Shrewsbury
approached, and asked her if she had no secret matter to reveal to
them, but she replied that she had said enough, and was not disposed
to say more. Then seeing that the time had come, without being asked,
she rose and prepared herself calmly and cheerfully for death.[155]
The executioner, his face hidden by his black mask, advanced to
remove her dress, but the Queen gently moved him aside with her hand,
saying smilingly, "Let me do this; I understand this business better
than you; I never had such a groom of the chamber."[156] She took out
the pins of her head-dress, and calling Jane Kennedy and Elizabeth
Curle, who were praying at the foot of the scaffold, she began, with
their assistance, to disrobe, observing that she was not accustomed
to do so before so many. The poor women, unable to restrain their
emotion, wept bitterly, and uttered heartrending cries, "and crossed
themselves, praying in Latin;" but their mistress placed her finger
on their mouths and chid them tenderly. "Do not weep any more," said
she. "I am very happy to go from this world; you should rejoice to
see me die for such a good quarrel; are you not ashamed to cry? If
you weep any more I will send you away, as I promised for you."[157]
The Queen then took from her neck the gold cross, wishing to give
it to Jane Kennedy. "My friend," she said to the executioner, "you
cannot make use of this, leave it to this lady; she will give you
more than its value in money." But Bull seized it roughly, saying,
"It is my right," and put it into his shoe.[158] The Queen had now
laid aside her mantle and veil, her collar and _pourpoint_, and
remained in her brown velvet skirt and black satin bodice with long
sleeves.[159] "Then she, with a smiling countenance, turning to her
men-servants as Melville and the rest, standing upon the bench near
the scaffold, crossing them with her hand, bade them farewell, and
bade them pray for her until the last hour. Then embracing her women,
she blessed them, making the sign of the cross on their foreheads."

[Footnote 151: Teulet, iv. 153.]

[Footnote 152: "She prayed that the Queen's Majesty might long
reign peaceably, might prosper and serve God, ... and that the
God of heaven would of His goodness avert His plagues from this
silly island; ... that He would receive her soul into His heavenly
hand."--Contemporary MSS., f. 175 b.]

[Footnote 153: See Tanner MSS., Appendix, 253.]

[Footnote 154: "Her meditations ended, she arose and kissed her two
gentlewomen, and bowed her body towards her men, and charged them to
commend her to her sweet son, to whom she sent her blessing, with
promise to pray for him in heaven, and lastly to salute her friends
wheresoever."--Contemporary MSS.]

[Footnote 155: "She laying her crucifix upon the stool, one of the
executioners took from her neck the Agnus Dei, which she, laying
hands of it, gave it to one of her women, and told the executioners
that they should be answered in money for it."--See Tanner MSS.,
Appendix, p. 254.]

[Footnote 156: "Then came one Bulle, the hangman of
London."--Contemporary MSS.]

[Footnote 157: Ashmole MSS. 830, f. 13: "Ne cry point pour moi; ja
promys pour vous."]

[Footnote 158: Chantelauze, p. 416.]

[Footnote 159: "And with joy rather than with sorrow helped to make
unready herself, putting on a pair of sleeves with her own hands
which they had pulled off, and that with some haste, as if she had
longed to be gone."--See Ashmole MSS., Appendix, p. 261.]

"Adieu for the last time," she said in French. "Adieu, au revoir;"
and when Jane Kennedy had bandaged her eyes, she desired them to go
down from the scaffold. The executioners fell on their knees at the
Queen's feet, begging her, as was the custom, to forgive them her
death. "I forgive you with all my heart," she replied, "for in this
hour I hope you will bring to an end all my troubles." The Queen, who
was seated on her stool, unbound, and still holding her crucifix,
raised her head and stretched out her neck, thinking she was to be
beheaded with a sword, according to the privilege granted in France
to royal persons.[160] "My God," she said fervently, "I have hoped in
Thee; I give back my soul into Thy hands." The executioners, seeing
her mistake, assisted her to rise and conducted her to the block,
where they made her kneel down, and as she knelt upright, still
thinking she was to be beheaded with the sword, they made her lie
flat with her head on the low block, only a few inches high.[161]
As the Queen repeated the words "In te Domine-speravi," Lord
Shrewsbury raised his wand to give the fatal signal.

[Footnote 160: "The executioners had prepared cords to bind her, but
she put them aside."--_Vera relazione_, Milan, 1587.]

[Footnote 161: "Then being ready to the block ... Mr. Doctor willed
her to die in the true faith of Christ. Quoth she, 'I believe firmly
to be saved by the Passion and Blood of Jesus Christ, and therein
also I believe according to the faith of the ancient Catholic Church
of Rome, and therefor I shed my blood.'"--Contemporary MSS.; see also
_Marie Stuart_, by Kervyn de Lettenhove, ii. 377.]

[Illustration: _Walker & Boutall, Ph. Sc._

  _Execution of Mary Queen of Scots,
  from the background of the Blairs Portrait. (enlarged.)_]

The executioner lifted the axe, but stopped at a sign from his
assistant, who had perceived that the Queen, to enable herself to
breathe, had placed her hands under her chin. The assistant moved
them and held them behind her back. Mary continued to pray aloud,
and in the deep silence that reigned in the hall she could be heard
repeating the verse, "In manus tuas Domine commendo." These were
her last words. The executioner, affected perhaps by sympathy and
by the general emotion visible among the bystanders, struck with an
ill-assured aim, and only wounded the Queen severely, but she neither
moved nor made a sound.[162] At the third blow the soul of Mary
Stuart passed to its eternal reward.

[Footnote 162: "After the which stroke she spoke these words, 'Lord
Jesus, receive my soul.'"--Contemporary MSS.]

And here we would fain end our narrative, letting our thoughts
dwell only on the sorrow that filled the hearts of the Queen's
desolate servants and the sympathy evinced by others present at her
execution,[163] for, as a contemporary writer tells us, "it was
remarked that the Earl of Shrewsbury and many others were bedewed
with tears;" but other and cruel incidents claim our attention.

[Footnote 163: "La plus part la tenoient innocente et, si l'execution
eust été publique, il y eust eu rumeur bien grande, et elle eust été
secourue et délivrée."--_Les derniers propos de la Royne d'Escosse._]

As soon as the Queen was dead the executioner "forthwith took
the head, and raising it and showing it to the people, he said,
according to custom, 'God save the Queen.'... To these words the
people answered, 'Amen.' 'Yes,' said the Earl of Kent, with a loud
voice and with great forwardness, 'Amen, Amen. May it please God
that all the Queen's enemies be brought into the like condition.'
The Dean of Peterbro spoke to the same effect."[164] "The gates of
the castle were kept closed, so that no one could pass out until a
messenger had been despatched first to the court (and this was about
one o'clock of the same day) with a letter and the certificate of the
execution."[165] This messenger was Henry Talbot, third son of Lord
Shrewsbury, from whose report we have already quoted.

[Footnote 164: "And after, the body lying there headless, bleeding,
my Lord Kent, standing by it, said with a loud voice, 'This be
the end and reward of all that hate the Gospel and Her Majesty's
Government.'"--See Ashmole MSS., Appendix, p. 263.]

[Footnote 165: Teulet MSS.; Ashmole MSS., _ibid._]

When Kent and Shrewsbury had left the scaffold, "every man being
commanded out of the hall except the sheriff and his men, she was
carried by them up into a great chamber, lying ready for the surgeons
to embalm her;"[166] but before this was done the executioner placed
the head on a dish and showed it from the window to the crowd
assembled in the courtyard. This he did three times.[167] About four
o'clock in the afternoon the body was "stripped, embalmed, and placed
in a coffin, after having been wrapped in a waxed winding sheet."

[Footnote 166: "And embalmed and sered and rested to the
burial."--Contemporary MSS., f. 175 b.]

[Footnote 167: "It is said that one of Mary's attendants, Amyas
Cawood, painted the head of the dead Queen, and the picture now at
Abbotsford, dated 8th Feb. 1588, and signed by Cawood, confirms this
tradition."]

Mary had earnestly charged her women to care for her body as they
had done for her soul, but they were absolutely denied this last
favour. "The tragedy ended," says Blackwood, "these poor ladies,
careful of their mistress's honour, addressed themselves to Paulet,
and begged that the executioner should not touch the body of Her
Majesty, and that they might be allowed to undress it after every
one had left," but he sent them away _fort lourdement_, telling them
to leave the hall. The room belonging to the Queen's ladies was next
the great chamber where the body was placed. They could see the
remains of their beloved mistress by looking through the keyhole, and
consoled themselves by kneeling and praying by the door; but Paulet,
discovering this, had the keyhole stopped up.[168] The story of the
Queen's faithful little dog has been often told, but it is impossible
not to refer to the touching incident as recorded by a contemporary.
"The Queen of Scotland," says he, "had a little dog with her upon
the scaffold, who was sitting there during the whole time, keeping
very quiet and never stirring from her side, but as soon as the head
was stricken off and placed upon the seat, he began to bestir himself
and cry out; afterwards he took up a position between the body and
the head, which he kept until some one came and removed him, and this
had to be done by violence."[169] The poor animal was washed, and
everything else stained by the Queen's blood was either washed or
burnt. "The Paternosters were tossed into the fire which was in the
hall," and the executioners were sent away, "not having any one thing
that belonged unto her."[170]

[Footnote 168: Jebb, ii. pp. 306, 489, 640.]

[Footnote 169: Teulet MSS.]

[Footnote 170: _Ibid._; Tanner MSS., Appendix, p. 256.]

Thus ends one of the great tragedies of history in which the
vanquished becomes truly the victor. To use the words of an old
Scottish writer, "The Queen of England may do what she will, the tomb
of our Queen is more durable than she imagines, as her effigy and
that of her virtues are better engraven in our hearts than they could
be in marble."[171]

[Footnote 171: Funeral oration by R.P., 1587.]




CHAPTER XII

PETERBOROUGH

     "Non tibi contextis lucent funalia lignis,
     Sed coeli stellæ; nænia tristis abest,
     Sed canit ad feretrum superum chorus aliger, et me,
           Coelesti incipiens voce, silere jubet."

     MAFFEI, _Poemata_, p. 145.


For six long months the body of the dead Queen was to remain
neglected and apparently forgotten within the walls of Fotheringay,
and her attendants, in spite of their natural desire to return to
their homes and friends, were condemned to a quasi-imprisonment for
even a longer space of time. After the scaffold had been removed
Mary's chaplain, Du Préau, was allowed to join the other mourners,
and on the morning after the execution he said mass for her soul. But
later in the day Paulet sent for Melville and Bourgoing, and ordered
that the altar should be taken down, and asked them to take an oath
that mass should not be said again. Melville excused himself, saying
he was a Protestant and not concerned. Bourgoing energetically
refused. Paulet therefore sent for Du Préau, who was evidently a
timid man, and who took the oath insisted upon.[172] Paulet also
demanded the box containing the vestments, and the following note
in his inventory of Mary's effects probably refers to its contents:
"Memorandum that the Priest claimeth as of the late Queen's gift
a silver chalice with a cover, two silver cruets, four images,
the one of Our Lady in red coral, with divers other vestments and
necessaries belonging to a Massing Priest." Paulet likewise entered
the Queen's oratory and made an inventory of its contents; among
them was a book in which he may have read these words written by
Mary, "On my garments they have cast lots."[173] Paulet had already
written to Davison asking for orders regarding Mary's household,
etc.; he concludes his letter,--written on the day itself of the
execution,--thus: "The children of God have daily experience of His
mercy and favour towards such as can be content to depend of His
merciful providence, who doth not see as man seeth, but His times
and seasons are always just and perfectly good. The same God make us
all thankful for His late singular favours." There is a significant
postscript added by Beale: "We may not forbear to signify unto you
that these two Earls[174] (Kent and Shrewsbury) have showed a very
singular and faithful affection to Her Majesty's service in this
action, as you shall be informed more particularly by me, Robert
Beale, at my return to the court, which shall be shortly by the grace
of God."

[Footnote 172: "Il jura sur la Bible de ne faire aucune office de
religion craignant d'estre resserré en prison."--Jebb, ii. 649-656.]

[Footnote 173: Labanoff, vii. 346.]

[Footnote 174: Yelverton MSS. 31.]

It is curious to find that the "singular and faithful affection"
manifested by the commissioners did not save them from an unpleasant
moment with Elizabeth. There is a petition signed by Kent,
Shrewsbury, Paulet, and Beale, in which they justify their conduct
to their irate mistress, who was then endeavouring to throw the
blame of Mary's death on every one but herself.[175] This document
bears the mark of two cuts made by scissors. "Does this indicate
that the minute was considered unnecessary and never presented?"
says M. Kervyn de Lettenhove, "or should we, on the contrary, see in
this the anger of Elizabeth, on whom the suppliants wished to fix
the responsibility at the moment when she most energetically denied
her participation?"[176] Beale, on his side, thought it necessary to
justify himself separately. "I thought," he writes, "that I ought
to fulfil the order; I was the Queen's servant and bound to obey
her. If, in those circumstances, the Queen had been exposed to some
danger, it would have been my fault. I was convinced that her safety
depended on the death of the Queen of Scotland; I found sufficient
warrant in an order signed by herself."[177]

[Footnote 175: _Marie Stuart_, Baron Kervyn de Lettenhove, ii. 406.]

[Footnote 176: See Appendix, p. 269, "Privy Council to the Queen."]

[Footnote 177: Yelverton MSS. 31.]

Paulet rejoiced to see the end of his residence at Fotheringay,
of which, as he said, the cause was withdrawn, "to my great joy
and to the joy of all faithful Christians, subjects of the Queen,"
but when he reached London he found matters quite different to his
expectations, and in the time of trouble is said to have thrown all
the blame on Walsingham. The storm did not last long, however, as
Paulet was made Chancellor of the Garter in the month of April 1587.

Although absent from Fotheringay he still seems to have retained
his jurisdiction over Queen Mary's attendants. It was to him that
Melville and Bourgoing applied in March for permission to sell their
horses, and to write to France regarding the bequests made to them
by their late mistress; and to him that Darrell in the following
June sends "the petition of the whole household and servants of the
late Queen of Scotland," asking to be released from prison and to
be allowed to leave the country. This petition was either never
answered, or refused, as the household remained at Fotheringay till
October.[178]

[Footnote 178: On 24th October Mendoça announces their arrival in
France.]

Before then Elizabeth's policy had caused her to give her victim
a royal funeral. This incident--would that we could say, act of
reparation--has hitherto, perhaps, met with less attention than
it deserved, and we will endeavour to gather together the details
regarding what is an unique fact in history, sympathising the while
with the sentiments of Mary's attendants, who stoutly refused the
mourning mantles offered them by Queen Elizabeth for an occasion
which must have seemed to them a very questionable tribute to their
mistress's memory.

In a tract entitled "A Remembrance of the Order and Manner of the
Burial of Mary Queen of Scots," we learn that on Sunday, the 30th
July 1587, "there went from Peterborough M---- Dethick (Sir William),
_alias_ Garter, principal king of arms, and five heralds, accompanied
with forty horse and men, to conduct the body of Mary, late Queen of
Scots, from Fotheringham Castle in Northamptonshire to Peterborough
aforesaid, ... having for that purpose brought a royal coach, drawn
by four horses and covered with black velvet, richly set forth with
escotcheons of the armes of Scotland, and little penons round about
it, the body, being enclosed in lead and the same coffined in wood,
was brought down and reverently put into the coach; at which time
the heralds put on their coats of arms, and bareheaded with torches
light, brought the same forth of the castle about ten of the clock
at night, and so conveyed it to Peterborough." Behind the heralds
walked Melville, Bourgoing, Gorion, Gervais, and two others of Mary's
household. The procession moved slowly, and reached Peterborough,
twelve miles distant, between one and two in the morning. At the door
of the cathedral the body was received by the Bishop of Peterborough,
the Dean and Chapter, and Clarencieux, king at arms, "and in the
presence of the Scots which came with the same,"[179] "and without
bells or chanting"[180] it was placed in a vault prepared for it in
the south aisle at the entrance of the choir. Thus Mary's tomb was
opposite that of Catherine of Aragon, and the same grave-digger,
Scarlet,[181] prepared both vaults for these royal and injured
occupants.

[Footnote 179: "The Bishop of Peterborough, the Deane, the Prebendes,
and the rest meeting the same at the Bridge, being not far from the
town."--From _The Scottish Queen's Buriall at Peterborough_.]

[Footnote 180: "There was at that time not any offices of the Church
Service done, the bishop being ready to have executed therein; but
it was by all that were present, as well Scotch as others, thought
good and agreed that it should be done at the day and time of
solemnity."--"Manner of the Solemnity," etc., from Gunton's _Hist. of
Peterborough_, Lond. 1686.]

[Footnote 181: "There is a memorial entred on the wall of the
cathedral of Peterborough for _one_ who, being _sexton_ therof,
interred _two_ Queens therein (Katherine Dowager and Mary of
Scotland), more than _fifty_ years intervening betwixt the several
sepultures."--Fuller's _Worthies_, ii. 174.]

As soon as the coffin had been lowered, the grave was covered with
a brick vaulting, only a small opening being left, and no further
ceremony took place until the Tuesday following.

On Monday afternoon the principal personages who were to take part in
the ceremony arrived.[182]

[Footnote 182: "Upon Monday in the afternoon came to Peterborough all
the lords and ladies, ... and at the Bishop's Palace was prepared a
great supper for them."]

The hall of the Episcopal Palace was hung with black, and at one end
was erected the royal dais and chair of state, as if Queen Elizabeth
were to be present in person. "On Tuesday, being the first of August,
in the morning, about Eight of the Clock, the chief mourner, being
the Countess of Bedford, was attended upon by all the lords and
ladies, and brought into the presence chambre within the Bishop's
Palace, which all over was hanged with black cloath; she was by the
Queens Majesties' gentlemen ushers placed somewhat under a cloth of
estate of purple velvet; where, having given to the great officers
these staves of office, viz. to the lord steward, lord Chamberlayne,
the treasurer and comptroller, she took her way into the great hall
where the corps stood."[183]

[Footnote 183: "A Remembrance of the Order and Manner of," etc.,
_Archæologia_, i. 155.]

The last words must refer to the figure in wax of the dead Queen,
which had no doubt been prepared according to custom. Lady Bedford,
bearing all the insignia of her sovereign whom she represented,
supported by the Earls of Rutland and Lincoln, her train borne
by Lady St. John, now respectfully followed the royal bier to
the cathedral, escorted by Garter king at arms, by the heralds,
and a great number of peers, peeresses, knights, and ladies in
deep mourning, as well as by the household of the dead Queen. The
cathedral had been draped in black "six or seven yards high from
the grounde." Every second pillar hung with black baize and adorned
with escutcheons, some bearing Mary's arms alone, and some those of
Francis and Darnley, impaled severally with the arms of Scotland. The
choir was also hung with black baize, "garnished with escutcheons as
aforesaid," and the space above the choir "was in most solemn manner
hanged with four bredthes of black bayes sowed togeather; garnished
at the upper end with escutcheons of mettall, and one each side, as
aforesayde."[184]

[Footnote 184: "The Solemnity of the Funeral," etc., drawn up by Sir
William Dethick, Garter king of arms.]

The procession was met at the church door by the bishop and clergy,
and advanced slowly to the choir while anthems were sung. "The
concourse of people was of many thousands." Mary's weeping attendants
and her chaplain bearing a cross, took, as may be seen, their part
in the procession, but before the service began all save Melville and
Barbara Mowbray, who were Protestants, left the church and remained
outside in the cloisters until the close of the ceremony.[185] We
give the order of procession according to the report drawn up by
Garter king at arms.

[Footnote 185: "Les Hérauts à quelque temps de là et après le sermon
fait par l'Evesque de Lincolne, les fut initer dans le cloistre où
ils estoient, de venir à l'offrande, ce qu'ils refuserent de faire,
disans qu'ils n'offraient point à un autel qu'ils n'approuvient
pas."--_Martyre de Marie Stuart_, Blackwood.]


The Order for the Buriall for Marie Queen of Scotts,
at Peterborough, observed the First of August, on Tuesday,
1587.[186]

[Footnote 186: From the _Bibliotheca Topographica Britannica_,
Article No. XL. "Hist. of Ant. Fotheringay," p. 75.]

  Two Conductors with  }   The Sheryfes Bailie, and
    black staves in    }       the Baylie of
        coates.        }       Peterborough.

  Poore men[187] (One hundred) in gownes, two and two.

  Two Yeomen           }   John Hamshiere,
    harbingers         }         and
    in clokes.         }     John Keyes.

[Footnote 187: All other accounts agree in calling these "poore
women," "poore old women, for the most part widowes."]

THE STANDARD

Borne by Sir George Savill knight.

GENTLEMEN IN CLOKES, TWO AND TWO, _videlizet_.

  Syxe Groomes.
  The Deane of Peterborough's man.
  Mr. Stafforde's sonne.
  Master of Wardrobe's two men.
  The Bishope of Peterborough's Stewarde.
  James Howland.
  Edward Jackson.
  Richard Kylefett.
  Robert Cotton.
  The Lorde Compton, one man.
  The Lady St. John, of Basinge, one.
  The Lorde Willoughby of Parram, one.
  The Lorde Mordant, and Ladie, two.
  The Lorde Dudley, and the Ladie, two.
  The Lady Marie Savell, one.
  The Lady Talbott, one.
  The Lord St. John, and the Ladie, two.
  The Bishope of Peterborough, one.
  The Bishope of Lyncolne, one.
  The Erle of Lyncolne, and the Countis, three.
  The old Countis of Bedford, chief Mourner, three.

GENTLEMEN IN GOWNES.

  Mr. Worme.                          }
  Mr. Howland.                        }
  Mr. Horseman,     }                 }
  Mr. Femis,        } Three Sewars.   }
  ....              }                 } Ten.
  Mr. Creuse.                         }
  Mr. Watsonn.                        }
  Mr. Alyngton.                       }
  Mr. Marmaduke Darrell.              }
  Docture Fortescue Thomas.           }

SCOTTES IN CLOAKES,

  seventeen.
  A Scottish Priest.[188]

[Footnote 188: Du Préau, Mary's French chaplain. "Monsieur du
Préau aumosnier, en long manteau, portant une croix d'argent en
main."--From "Ordre du Convoy," etc.]

GOWNES.

  Two Chaplayns to the Bishops aforesayde.
  Mr. Fortescue, master of Queene Elizabeth's wardrope.
  The two Bishopps, Peturborough and Lincolne.

THE GREATE BANNER.

  Borne by Sir Andrew Nowell.
  { Mr. Melvin, and Sir Edward Montague,   }
  { Comptroller and Treasurer to the Queen }
  { of Scottes.                            }
  The Lord Chamberlayne, }
  The Lord Stewarde,     } Great Officers.
  The Lorde Dudley.
  The Lord St. John of Basnige (_sic._)
  Two Yeomen of the garde, in clokes, with black staves in
  their handes.

THE HALM AND CREASTE,

borne by .... pourcyvant of armes.

THE TARGETT,

borne by Rouge dragon, a pourcyvant of armes.

THE COATE OF ARMES,

  borne by Somersett, herald of armes.
  Then Clarentius Kinge of Armes,
  and a Gentleman huisher goyng with him.

Then

The Body

Was carryed by these

SIX GENTLEMEN IN CLOAKES; videlizett.

  Francis Fortescue.            }
  William Fortescue.            }
  Thomas Stafforde.             } Six.
  Nycholas Smythe.              }
  Nycholas Hyde.                }
  Fortescue Sen'r. of Aywood. }

BANNEROLLS,

  eight,
  borne by these gentlemen, videlizett,
  William Fitz William.          }
  Mr. Gryffith, of Drugley.[189] }
  Mr. Robert Wyngfield.          }
  Mr. Bevill.                    } Eight.
  Mr. Lynne.                     }
  Mr. John Wyngfield.            }
  Mr. John Spencer.              }
  Mr. Fortescue of Aywood.       }

[Footnote 189: Dingley?]

THE CANOPIE.

  borne by these four Knightes, videlizett,
  Sir Thomas Manners.          }
  Sir George Hastinges.        }   Four.
  Sir James Harrington.        }
  Sir Richard Knightley.       }

THE BODIE

  assisted be these Four,
  The Lorde Mordantt.            }
  The Lorde Willoughby of Param. } Four.
  The Lorde Compton.             }
  Sir Thomas Cycill, Knight.     }

Then,

GARTER KINGE OF ARMES,

and a Gentleman huisher with him.

Then,

THE CHIEF MOURNER.

THE COUNTIS OF BEDFORD.

Assisted by the Erles of Rutland and Lyncolne,

HER TRAYNE

  borne by
  The Ladie St. John of Basing,
  who was assisted by
  Mr. John Manners, Vize Chamberlain.

THE OTHER MOURNERS, videlizet,

  Twelve.

  The Countis of Rutland.
  The Countis of Lyncolne.

  The Ladie Talbott.
  The Ladie Marie Savill.[190]

  The Ladie Mordantt.
  The Ladie St. John of Bletsoe.

  The Ladie Manners.
  The Ladie Cecill.

  The Ladie Montague.
  The Ladie Nowell.

  Mistris Alington.
  A Scottish Gentlewoman.

[Footnote 190: She was an Erle's daughter.]

Then,

two of the

YEOMEN OF THE GUARDES

in clokes.

SCOTTISH GENTLEWOMEN,

  Eight,
  too and too.

Then,

GENTLEWOMEN OF COUNTISSES,

too and too.

Then,

BARONISSIS AND LADIES,

accordinge to ther degree.

Then,

GENTLEWOMEN.

Thirty.

  The Countis of Bedforde, four.
  The Countis of Rutland, three.
  The Countis of Lyncolne, three.
  Ladie St. John of Baznige, two.
  Ladie Talbott, two.
  Ladie Marie Savill, two.
  Ladie Mordantt, two.
  Ladie St. John of Bletneshoe, two.
  Ladie Manners, two.
  Ladie Cycill, two.
  Ladie Montegue, two.
  Ladie Nowell, two.
  Mystris Alyngton, two.

ALL YEOMEN IN COATES.

  The Countise of Bedforde, allowed for ten men.
  The Countis of Rutland, eight men.
  The Countis of Lincolne, eight men.
  The Ladie of St. John of Basing, five men.
  All Baronissis and Ladies, five apeece.
  All knightes, two men apeece.
  All knightes wyfes too apeece.
  All esquires one man apeece.[191]

[Footnote 191: It is curious that Paulet does not appear in any list
of those present at the funeral.]

When the bier reached the choir it was placed on a catafalque,
which Derrick describes as "a stately hearse with a topp 8 square
rising lik a field-bed, which was covered on the tipps with black
bayes, garnished with escutions as affore of mettall and besett with
pinecles from the topp, on each quarter, most butiful to behoulde:
whereupon were painted, on some, the Scottish armes alone, and on
others some, the armes of France and Darnley, impaled, and St.
Andrewe's Crosse, A, in a filde, O; and also an unicorne tripping, A,
attyred and unguled, Or, with felde, B; with a crowne, and a chayne
turning over his back, Or. On the topp of the hearse was set two
escutchions of the Scotch armes, cut out in paste boarde, guilded,
and an impereall crowne, guilded, and cut out in past board." Dean
Fletcher arranged the ceremonials, and the Bishop of Lincoln preached
the well-known sermon, commencing by rejoicings for the "happy death
of the high and mighty Princesse Mary," of whom he very cleverly
says: "I have not much to say of her life or death, knowing little
of the one, and not having assisted at the other."[192] Prayers
followed, and at the offering Lord Bedford advanced and placed
before the altar the coat of mail, helm, sword, and shield which
were afterwards hung over the grave.[193] At the end the heralds,
according to custom, broke their staves and threw them into the
grave, "and so every one departed as they came, after their degrees,
to the Bishop's Palace, where was prepared a most royal feast, and a
dole given unto the poore."[194] Mary's attendants were invited to
take part in the banquet, the hosts "praying them to eat well, and to
ask for anything they wished, so that nothing should be wanting to
them, such being the orders of their mistress;"[195] but, as we may
readily believe, they replied by their tears. "The servants of the
dead Queen," says Blackwood, were "in a separate room, mingling many
tears with their food and drink."[196]

[Footnote 192: _Archæologia_, i. 355; Miss Strickland, vii.]

[Footnote 193: "The royal ensigns of an helmet, sword, and
scutcheon remained to the year 1643 hanging high over the place of
burial."--"Manner of the Solemnity," etc., from Gunton's _Hist. of
Peterborough_.]

[Footnote 194: "A Remembrance," etc., _Archæologia_, p. 155.]

[Footnote 195: Jebb, ii. 203.]

[Footnote 196: _Martyre de Marie Stuart_, Collected Works of Adam
Blackwood, Paris, 1644, p. 703.]

Amidst all the pomp and display of this funeral one point had been
omitted: no tablet or inscription marked the spot where Mary lay, and
it remained for a faithful subject of the dead Queen, the same Adam
Blackwood, to supply this omission. On occasion of a pilgrimage made
by him to Peterborough, Blackwood placed the following well-known
epitaph over his mistress's grave:--

     Mary Queen of Scots, daughter of a king, widow of the King
     of France, cousin and next heir to the Queen of England,
     endowed with royal virtues and a royal mind (the right of
     Princes being oftentimes in vain implored) by barbarous
     and tyrannical cruelty, the ornament of our age, and truly
     Royal light is extinguished. By the same unrighteous
     judgement both Mary Queen of Scots with natural death, and
     all surviving kings (now made common persons) are punished
     with civil death. A strange and unusual kind of monument
     this is, wherin the living are included with the dead; for
     with the Sacred ashes of this blessed Mary, know that the
     Majesty of all Kings and Princes lieth here violated and
     prostrated. And because regal secresy doth enough and more
     admonish kings of their duty--traveller, I say no more.

It, however, "continued not long, but was taken away and cast
aside,"[197] probably on account of the sympathy it called forth, and
the tomb remained almost forgotten till James, having ascended the
English throne, thought of honouring his injured mother's remains.

[Footnote 197: _Martyre de Marie Stuart_, Collected Works of Adam
Blackwood, Paris, 1644, p. 703.]

Regarding Mary's faithful followers and their after-fate we know the
few following particulars. By their refusal to assist at the service
or to share in the funeral banquet, they seem to have incurred
afresh Elizabeth's displeasure, and this is one of the reasons
alleged for their continued imprisonment after the ceremony. When
at length they obtained their freedom Bourgoing, "who had assisted
Mary from the first day of her stricter imprisonment until the hour
of her death,"[198] and to whom, as we know, fell the solemn duty of
narrating the incidents of the Queen's death to the King and Queen
of France, no doubt fulfilled his mission, and his written narrative
attests his devotion to his mistress, but we have been unable, to our
great regret, to trace his further history. Gorion fulfilled his task
by transmitting to Mendoça Mary's farewell letter, accompanied by
an interesting narrative of her last moments, written presumably by
himself.[199] Elizabeth Curle also acquitted herself of her charge
by taking to Morgan the diamond ring left him by Mary in gratitude
for his "good and long service." She afterwards joined her former
companion and friend Barbara Mowbray, nor were they divided in death,
as they were buried together at Antwerp, under the tomb bearing the
effigy of their beloved mistress. The Latin inscription referring to
the Queen's martyrdom recalls the fact that Elizabeth assisted at
her execution and received her last kiss. The faithful Jane Kennedy,
whom we may perhaps consider as Mary's favourite attendant, after
returning to Scotland, married Andrew Melville, and was drowned in
a storm when on her way to meet Anne of Denmark on her arrival in
Scotland as James's Queen.

[Footnote 198: Teulet, iv. 204 (Chateauneuf's words).]

[Footnote 199: _Ibid._, v. 500.]




CHAPTER XIII

WESTMINSTER

     "It appertaynes to ye duty we owe to our dearest
     mother that like honour should be done to her body,
     and like monument be extant to her as ourselves have
     already performed to our deare sister ye late Queen
     Elizabeth."--James VI. 28th Sept. 1612.


Sixteen years after the ceremony we have described in the last
chapter James, now King of England, at last desired to show some mark
of respect to his mother's memory, and Sir William Dethick was again
intrusted with this mission.

On the 14th of August 1603 he was sent to Peterborough with "a rich
pall of velvet, embroidered with the arms of the mighty princess
Mary Queene of Scotts." He was also the bearer of letters to the
Bishop of Peterborough to ask leave to place it on the coffin,
which, being obtained, the pall was "by him caryed and laid uppon
and over the corps of the said late Queene, assisted by many knights
and gentlemen." A large concourse of people were present at the
ceremony. The Bishop preached a sermon suitable to the occasion in
the morning, and in the afternoon the Dean "preached of the same."
In the interval there was a splendid banquet. "Then the Queene
of Scotland," says our authority quaintly, "was most royally and
sumptuously (re)enterred by the said gentee on the 14th August."[200]

[Footnote 200: Harl. MSS., 293, p. 211.]

[Illustration: _Walker & Boutall, Ph. Sc._

  _Medallion containing
  Miniature of Mary Queen of Scots
  and Relics
  now in the possession of Lady Milford._]

Nine years later James, after erecting the well-known monument to
Queen Elizabeth in Westminster Abbey, determined to do the same
honour to his mother. He therefore addressed the following letter to
the Dean and Chapter of Peterborough:[201]--

[Footnote 201: _History of Fotheringay._ By some confusion of dates
the year 1587 is here given instead of 1603.]


     TO THE DEAN AND CHAPTER OF PETERBOROUGH.[202]

     [Footnote 202: _Antiquities of Fotheringay_, p. 59. Noble's
     _Hist. of the College of Arms_, p. 200.]

     To our trusty and well-beloved the Dean and Chapter
     of our Cathedral Church of Peterborough; and in their
     absence, to the Right Reverend Father in God, the Bishop
     of Peterborough, and to such of the Prebendaries and other
     officers of the Church as shall be found there.

     JAMES R.

     Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well, for that we
     think it appertains to the duty we owe to our dearest
     mother that like honour should be done to her body and
     like monument be extant of her, as others, hers, and our
     progenitors have been used to be done, and ourselves
     have already performed to our dear sister the late Queen
     Elizabeth, we have commanded a memorial of her to be made
     in our Church of Westminster, the place where the kings and
     queens of this realm are usually interred: and for that
     we think it inconvenient that the monument and her body
     should be in several places; we have ordered that her said
     body, remaining now interred in that our cathedral church
     of Peterborough, shall be removed to Westminster, to the
     Reverend father in God, our right trusty and well-beloved
     servant the Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield, bearer
     therof; to whom we require you (or to such as he shall
     assign) to deliver the corps of our said dearest mother,
     the same being taken up in as decent and respectful manner
     as is fitting. And for that there is a Pall now upon the
     hearse over her grave which will be requisite to be used
     to cover her said body in the removing therof, which may
     perhaps be deemed as a fee that should belong to the
     Church; we have appointed the said reverend father to pay
     you a reasonable redemption for the same, which being done
     by him, we require you that he may have the pall to be used
     for the purpose aforesaid.[203] Given under our signet at
     our honour of Hampton Court, the eight and twentieth day
     of September in the tenth year of our reign of England,
     France, and Ireland, and of Scotland the six and fortieth.

[Footnote 203: The same as sent nine years before. Oh, royal economy!]

Here follows a memorandum to this effect:--

     These Letters were delivered to the Right Reverend father
     in God, the Lord Bishop of Peterborough, and to me, Henry
     Williamson, one of the Prebends of the said Cathedral
     Church, in the absence of the Dean and the rest of our
     Prebends, and the contents therof were executed the fourth
     day of October, in the year aforesaid,

     (signed) W.K.

Although no doubt the removal of the body was effected with great
solemnity and state, no detailed record of the ceremony has been
discovered. The beautiful tomb in Westminster is too well known to
need description. In it we see, as remarks one of Mary's latest
historians, if not a memorial of filial piety, at least a mark of
James's taste for art.[204] The effigy of the Queen seems to have
been taken from a contemporary portrait, possibly from the fine
picture still in the possession of the Earl of Morton, but neither
this fact nor the name of the sculptor can now be known.

[Footnote 204: Chantelauze, p. 433.]

Our task is now concluded. At the foot of Queen Mary's tomb we lay
this small tribute to her memory.




APPENDIX

ACCOUNT OF THE EXECUTION OF QUEEN MARY STUART


FROM THE TANNER MS. 78, F. 129, IN THE BODLEIAN LIBRARY, OXFORD

     A report of the manner of execution of the Scottish Queen
     performed the eighth day of February anno 1586 in the
     great hall within the castle of Fotheringham with relation
     of speeches uttered and actions happening in the said
     execution from the delivery of the said Scottish Queen
     unto Mr. Thomas Andrewes, Esq., Sheriff of the county of
     Northampton unto the end of the same execution.

First, the said Scottish Queen, being carried by two of Sir
Amias Pawlett's gentlemen and the Sheriff going before her, came most
willingly out of her chamber into an entry next the hall; at which
place the Earl of Shrewsbury and the Earl of Kent, commissioners
for the execution, with the two governors of her person and divers
knights and gentlemen, did meet her; where they found one of the
Scottish Queen's servants, named Melvyn, kneeling on his knees; who
uttered these words with tears to the Queen of Scots, his mistress,
"Madam, it will be the sorrowfullest message that ever I carried when
I shall report that my Queen and dear mistress is dead." Then the
Queen of Scots shedding tears, answered him, "You ought to rejoice
and not to weep for that the end of Mary Stuart's troubles is now
done. Thou knowest, Melvin, that all this world is but vanity and
full of troubles and sorrows. Carry this message from me and tell
my friends that I died a true woman to my religion, and like a true
Scottish woman and a true French woman; but God forgive them that
have long desired my end. And He that is the true Judge of all secret
thoughts knoweth my mind, how it hath ever been my desire to have
Scotland and England united together. And commend me to my son,
and tell him that I have not done any thing that may prejudice his
kingdom of Scotland. And so, good Melvin, farewell." And kissing him
she bade him pray for her.

Then she turned her unto the Lords and told them that she had certain
requests to make unto them. One was for a sum of money (which she
said Sir Amias Pawlett knew of) to be paid to one Curle, her servant.
Next, that all her poor servants might enjoy that quietly which by
her will and testament she had given unto them. And lastly, that they
might be all well entreated and sent home safely and honestly into
their own country. "And this I do conjure you, my Lords, to do."
Answer was made by Sir Amias Pawlett. "I do well remember the money
your grace speaketh of, and your grace needeth not to make any doubt
of the not performance of your request, for I do surely think they
shall be granted." "I have (said she) one other request to make unto
you, my Lords, that you will suffer my poor servants to be present
about me at my death, that they may report when they come into their
countries how I died a true woman unto my religion." Then the Earl
of Kent, one of the commissioners, answered, "Madam, that cannot
well be granted, for that it is feared lest some of them would with
speeches both trouble and grieve your grace and disquiet the company;
of which already we have had some experience, or seek to wipe their
napkins in some of your blood, which were not convenient."

"My Lord (said the Queen of Scots), I will give my word and promise
for them that they shall not do any such thing as your Lordship hath
named. Alas, poor souls, it would do them good to bid me farewell,
and I hope your mistress, being a maiden Queen, in regard of
womanhood will suffer me to have some of my own people about me at
my death; and I know she hath not given you so straight a commission
but that you may grant me more than this if I were a far meaner woman
than I am." And then feigning to be greived, with some tears uttered
these words: "You know that I am cousin to your Queen and descended
from the blood of Henry the VIIth., a married Queen of France and the
anointed Queen of Scotland." Whereupon after some consultation they
granted that she might have some of her servants according to her
grace's request, and therefore desired her to make choice of half a
dozen of her men and women. Who presently said that of her men she
would have Melvin, her apothecary, her surgeon, and one other old
man besides; and of her women those two that did use to lie in her
chamber. After this she, being supported by Sir Amias's two gentlemen
aforesaid and Melvin, carrying her train, and also accompanied with
Lords, knights, and gentlemen aforenamed, the Sheriff going before
her, she passed out of the entry into the hall with her countenance
careless, importing therby rather mirth than mournfull chere, and
so she willingly stepped up to the scaffold which was prepared for
her in the hall, being two foot high and twelve foot broad with
rails round about, hanged and covered with black, with a low stool,
long cushion and block, covered with black also. Then having the
stool brought her, she sat down, by her, on her right hand the Earl
of Shrewsbury and the Earl of Kent, and on the left hand stood the
Sheriff, before her the two executioners; round about the rails stood
knights, gentlemen, and others.

Then silence being made the Queen's Majestie's commission for the
execution of the said Queen of Scots was opened by Mr. Beal, clerk of
the council, and these words pronounced by the assembly, "God save
the Queen," during the reading of which commission the Queen of Scots
was silent, listening unto it with as small regard as if it had not
concerned her at all; and with as cheerfull countenance as if it had
been a pardon from her majesty for her life; using as much strangness
in word and deed as if she had never known any of the assembly or had
been ignorant of the English language.

Then Mr. Doctor Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, standing directly
before her without the rails, bending his body with great reverence,
began to utter this exhortation following: "Madam, the Queen's most
excellent Majesty," etc.; and uttering these words three or four
times she told him, "Mr. Dean, I am settled in the ancient Catholic
Roman religion, and mind to spend my blood in defence of it."

Then Mr. Dean sayd, "Madam, change your opinion and repent you of
your former wickedness, and set your faith only in Jesus Christ, by
Him to be saved."

Then she answered again, "Mr. Dean, trouble not yourself any more,
for I am settled and resolved in this my religion, and am purposed
herein to die."

Then the Earl of Shrewsbury and the Earl of Kent, perceiving her so
obstinate, told her that since she would not hear the exhortation
begun by Mr. Dean, "We will pray for your grace that if it standeth
with God's will you may have your heart lightened even at the last
hour with the true knowledge of God, and so die therein."

Then she answered, "If ye will pray for me, my Lords, I will thank
you, but to join in prayer with you I will not, for that you and I
are not of one religion."

Then the Lords called for Mr. Dean, who kneeling on the scaffold
stairs began his prayer, "O most gracious God and merciful Father,"
etc., all the assembly, saving the Queen of Scots and her servants,
saying after him: during the saying of which prayer the Queen of
Scots, sitting upon a stool, having about her neck an Agnus Dei, in
her hand a crucifix, at her girdle a pair of Beads with a golden
Cross at the end of them, a Latin book in her hand, began with tears
and loud voice to pray in Latin, and in the midst of her prayers she
slided off from the stool and kneeling said divers Latin prayers.
And after the end of Mr. Dean's prayer she kneeling prayed to this
effect in English; for Christ, His afflicted Church, and for an end
of their troubles, for her son and for the Queen's Majesty, that she
might prosper and serve God aright. She confessed that she hoped to
be saved by and in the blood of Christ, at the foot of whose crucifix
she would shed her blood.

Then said the Earl of Kent, "Madam, settle Christ Jesus in your heart
and leave those trumperies." Then she, little regarding or nothing at
all his honor's good counsel, went forward with her prayers; desiring
that God would avert His wrath from this Island, and that He would
give her grace and forgiveness of her sins. These with other prayers
she made in English, saying she forgave her enemies with all her
heart that had long sought her blood, and desired God to convert them
to the truth; and in the end of prayer she desired all Saints to make
intercession for her to Jesus Christ, and so kissed the crucifix,
and crossing of herself, said these words, "Even as Thy arms, O
Jesus, were spread here upon the cross, so receive me into Thy arms
of mercy and forgive me all my sins."

Her prayer ended, the executioners kneeling desired her grace to
forgive them her death. Who answered, "I forgive you with all my
heart, for now I hope you shall make an end of all my troubles." Then
they with her two women helping of her up, began to disrobe her of
her apparell. Then she laying her Crucifix upon the stool, one of the
executioners took from her neck the Agnus Dei, which she laying hands
of it gave it to one of her women and told the executioners that
they should be answered in money for it. Then she suffered them with
her two women to disrobe her of her apparell, of her chain, of her
pomander beads, and all other her apparell most willingly; and with
joy rather than with sorrow helped to make unready herself, putting
on a pair of sleeves with her own hands which they had pulled off,
and that with some haste, as if she had longed to be gone.

All this while they were pulling off her apparell she never changed
her countenance, but with smiling chere she uttered these words that
she had never such grooms to make her unready, and she never put off
her clothes before such a company.

Then she being stripped of all her apparell saving her petticoat
and kertell, her two women beholding her made great lamentation and
crying and crossed themselves prayed in Latin. Then she turning
herself to them embracing them, said these words in French, "Ne criez
vous, j'ay promis pour vous;" and so crossing and kissing them, bade
them pray for her, and rejoice and not mourn, for that now they
should see an end of all their mistress's troubles.

Then she with a smiling countenance, turning to her men-servants,
as Melvin and the rest standing upon a bench nigh the scaffold, who
sometimes weeping, sometimes crying out, and loudly and continually
crossing themselves, prayed in Latin, crossing them with her hand,
bade them farewell, and wishing them to pray for her even until the
last hour.

This done one of her women, having a Corpus Christi cloth lapt up the
corner ways, kissing it, put it over the Queen of Scot's face and
pinned it fast to the caul of her head. Then the two women departed
from her, and she kneeling down upon a cushion most resolutely and
without any token or fear of death, she spake aloud this Psalm in
Latin, "In te Domine confido, non confundat in eternum," etc. Then
groping for the block she laid down her head, putting her chin on the
block with both her hands, which holding there still had been cut off
had they been not espied. Then lying upon the block most quietly,
and stretched out her arms and legs, cryed, "In manus tuas, Domine,"
etc., three or four times.

Then she lying very still on the block, one of the executioners
holding of her slightly with one of his hands, she endured two
strokes of the other executioner with an axe, she making very small
noise or none at all, and not stirring any part of her from the place
where she lay; and so the executioners cut off her head saving one
little gristle, which being cut asunder he lifted up her head to
the view of all the assembly and bade God save the Queen. Then her
dressing of lawn falling off from her head it appeared as grey as one
of threescore and ten years old, and polled very short, her face in a
moment being so much altered from the form she had when she was alive
as few could remember her by her dead face. Her lips stirred up and
down almost a quarter of an hour after her head was cut off. Then Mr.
Dean said with a loud voice, "So perish all the Queen's enemies," and
afterwards the Earl of Kent came to the dead body, and standing over
it with a loud voice said, "Such be the end of all the Queen's and
the Gospel's enemies."

Then one of the executioners pulling off her garters espied her
little dog, which was crept under her clothes, which could not be
gotten forth but by force. It afterwards would not depart from the
dead corpse, but came and laid between her head and her shoulders,
which being imbrued with her blood was carried away and washed, as
all things else were, that had any blood, was either burned or clean
washed, and the executioners sent away with money for their fees; not
having any one thing that belonged unto her. And so every man being
commanded out of the hall except the Sheriff and his men she was
carried by them up into a great chamber lying ready for the surgeons
to embalm her.

       *       *       *       *       *

FROM MS. ENDORSED "EXECUTIO REGINA SCOTORUM"

The description of the Queen of Scots, both for her own as also for
the manner of her apparrell as she came to suffer death the 8th of
February 1586.

First, she was of stature high, big made and somewhat round
shouldered, her face broad and fatt, double chinned and hazel eyed:
her borrowed hair aborne, having on her head a dressing of lawn
edged with bone lace, a pomander chain, an Agnus Dei about her neck,
a crucifix in her hand, and a pair of Beads at her girdle with a
golden Cross at the end of them, a veil of lawn fastened to her caul
bowed out with wire and edged round about with bone lace, a gown of
black satin printed with a train, and long sleeves to the ground
set with acorn buttons of jet trimmed with pearl, and short sleeves
of satin black cut with a pair of sleeves of purple velvet, whole
under them a whole kyrtle of figured satin black, her petticoat upper
body's unlaced in the back of crimson satin and her petticoat skirts
of crimson velvet, her shoes Spanish leather with the rough side
outward, a pair of green silk garters, her nether stocks of worsted
coloured watchette clocked with silver and edged on the tops with
silver, and next her legs a pair of Jersey hose white.

       *       *       *       *       *

FROM THE ASHMOLE MS. 830, F. 13, IN THE BODLEIAN LIBRARY, OXFORD

     The manner of the Scottish Queen's execution performed the
     8th of February 1586 in the great hall within the Castle of
     Fotheringham.

The said Scottish Queen being attended by the sheriffs and supported
by two of Sir Amias Paulet's gentlemen, came out of her chamber
down into an entry next to the hall about 10 of the clock, at which
place the Earl of Shrewsbury, the Earl of Kent, commissioners for
the execution, with the two governors of her person, and divers
knights and gentlemen, justices of the peace within the County of
Northampton, going out of the hall did meet her, where they found
one of her servants named Melvin kneeling on his knees uttering
these words, "Madam, it will be the sorrowfullest message that ever
I carried when I shall report that my Queen and mistress is dead."
Then the Queen of Scots weeping answered him, "You ought to rejoice
rather than weep, for that the end of all Marie Stuard's troubles is
now come; thou knowest, Melvin, that all this world is but vanity
and full of troubles, but carry thou this message unto my son, and
tell my friends that I die a true woman to my religion, true Scottish
and true French. God forgive them that have long desired my end,
but God, the true Judge of all secret thoughts, knoweth my mind,
how that ever it hath been my desire to have Scotland and England
united together. But commend me to my son once again, and tell him
that I have not done anything that can be prejudicial to his state,
and say unto him from me that he trust not too much to practices and
policies, for practices and policies will have an end. Farewell."
And kissing him she bade him pray for her. Then she turned her face
to the Lords, the commissioners, and told them she had certain
requests to make unto them, one was for a sum of money to be paid to
one Curle her servant; secondly, that all her poor servants might
enjoy that quietly which by her will and testament she gave them;
next, that they may be all well entreated and sent home safely and
honestly into their countries. "And this as I crave so do I conjure
you, my Lords, to do." Answer was made by Sir Amias Paulet. "Your
grace need not to make any doubt of the not performance of your
request, for I am sure they shall be well used." "I have," said the
Queen of Scots, "another request to make unto you my Lords, which is
that you would suffer my poor servants to be present about me at my
death, that they may report when they come into their countries how
I died a true woman to my religion." Then my Lord of Kent, one of
the commissioners, answered, "Madam, it cannot well be granted, for
that it is feared lest some of them would with speeches both trouble
and grieve your grace and disquiet the company of which already we
have some experience, or seek to wipe their napkins in some of your
blood, which is not convenient." "My Lord," said the Queen of Scots,
"I will give my word and promise for them that they shall not do any
such thing as your lordships have named. Alas! poor souls, it will do
them good to bid me farewell. I hope your mistress, being a maiden
Queen, in regard of womanhood will suffer me to have some of my
own people about me at my death, and I know she hath not given you
so straight a commission but you might grant me more than this if I
were far meaner than I am." And then seeming to be much grieved, with
some tears, uttered these words: "You know that I am cousin to your
Queen, and descended from the blood of Henry the 7th, and have been a
married Queen of Scotland." Where upon some consultation they granted
that she might have some of her servants according to her request,
and therefore they desired her to make choice of some 6 of women and
men. Who presently said that of her men she would have Melvin, her
apothecary and physician, and one other old man beside; and of her
women, those two that did lie in her chamber. After this she being
supported by the two gentlemen aforesaid, and accompanied with the
lords, knights, and gentlemen above named, and the sheriffs going
before her out of the entry into the great hall, her countenance
careless, importing rather mirth than mourning, and so with silence
she went up to the scaffold which was prepared for her in the hall,
being two foot high and twelve foot broad, with rails round about
hanged and covered with black cotton. Then having the stool brought
her she sat her down, by her on the right hand on two stools the Earl
of Shrewsbury and the Earl of Kent, her majestie's commissioners;
on the left hand stood Mr. Thomas Andrewes, sheriff, and before her
the two executioners; round about the rails stood the knights and
gentlemen and the halberdiers, and without the rails directly before
her stood Mr. Doctor Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough. Then silence
being made the Queen's majesty's commission for the execution of
the said Queen of Scots was openly read by Mr. Beale, clarke of the
county, and after that these words pronounced by the assembly, _God
save the Queen_. During the reading of which commission the said
Queen of Scots used silence but listed unto it with small regard, as
if it had not concerned her at all, and with a cheerful countenance
using as much strangeness in word and deed as if she had never known
any of the assembly or had been ignorant of the English language.
Then Mr. Dean of Peterborough, bending his body with great reverence,
began to utter his exhortation, beginning thus, "Madam, the Queen's
most excellent majesty," etc., as it is before written; and uttering
these words three or four times, she said, "Mr. Dean, Mr. Dean,
trouble me not; I am settled and persuaded in the Catholick Roman
faith and mind to spend my blood in defence of it." Then Mr. Dean
said, "Madam, lay aside those unclean dregs of superstition which you
have about you, and repent you of your sins and settle your faith
only on Jesus Christ by him to be saved." Then she answered again and
again, "I am settled and resolved in the Catholick Roman faith, and
am purposed therein to die." Then the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent,
perceiving her so obstinate, told her that since she would not hear
the exhortation began by Mr. Dean, we will pray for your grace that
if it stand with God's will you may have your heart lightened even at
the last hour with the true knowledge of God. Then she answered: "If
you pray for me, my Lords, I will thank you, but to join in prayer I
will not, your prayers will do me no good, for that you and I am not
of one religion." The Lords called for Mr. Dean, who, kneeling upon
the scaffold staires, began this prayer:--


A PRAYER

All the assembly except the Queen of Scots and her servants saying
after him, during the time of which prayer the Queen of Scots,
sitting upon her stool, having about her necke an Agnus Dei, in her
hand a Crucifix, at her girdle a pair of beads with a medal at the
end of them, and a Latin primer in her hand, began with loud and
fast voice to pray in Latin, and in the midst of her prayers she
slided off her stool, and kneeling said divers Latin prayers, and
after the end of Mr. Dean's prayer she kneeling prayed in English
to this effect--for Christ's poor afflicted Church, and for an end
of all their troubles, for her son that he might prosper and fear
God, and for the Queen that she might prosper and serve God aright;
she confessed that she hoped to be saved by the blood of Christ, at
the foot of whose crucifix she would shed her blood. Then said my
Lord of Kent, "Madam, settle Christ Jesus in your heart and leave
these trumpery things." She prayed that God would avert his wrath
from this Island, and that God would give her grief and forgiveness
for all her sins. These with other prayers she made in English,
saying she forgave her enemies with all her heart that had long
sought her blood, and desired God to convert them to the truth, and
in the end of her prayer she desired all the company of heaven to
make intercession for her, and so kissing her crucifix and crossing
herself said these words, "Even as the arms of Jesus are spread here
upon the cross, so receive me unto thy mercy and forgive me all my
sins." Her prayer being ended the two executioners, kneeling on their
knees, desired her grace to forgive them, who answered, "I forgive
you with all my heart, for now I hope you shall make an end of all
my troubles." Then they, with her two women keeping her up, begin
to disrobe her of her apparel. Then she letting fall her crucifix,
one of the two hangmen took from her neck the Agnus Dei, which
she, laying hand on, gave it to one of her women, and told one of
the executioners that he should be answered money for it. Then she
suffered her two women to disrobe her of her chain of pomander beads
and all other her apparel most willingly, and with joy rather than
with sorrow helping to make unready herself, putting on a pair of
sleeves with her own hands which they had pulled off, and that with
some haste, as though she longed to be gone; all the time they were
putting off her apparel she never changed her countenance, but with
smiling cheer she uttered these words--That she never had such women
to make her unready, and that she never put off her clothes before
such a company. Then she being stripped of all her apparel saving
her petticoat and kirtel, her two women began to cry and lament,
then she turned her to them, and embracing them, said these words in
French: "Ne cry point pour moi. Ja promys pour vous." And so crossing
and kissing them both she told them that they had more cause to
rejoice than to weep, for that now they should see an end of their
mistress's troubles. Then she with a smiling countenance turning to
her men-servants, as Melvin and the rest standing upon the bench
near the scaffold, crossing them with her hand bade them farewell,
and bade them pray for her until the last hour. This done she went
alone to the block and kneeled down, then one of her women, having a
corpus cloth lapped three-corner-wise, kissing it, put it over her
face and pinned it fast to the caul of her head, and so kneeling
upon the cushion most resolutely and without any token of the fear
of death she spake aloud certain verses of the Psalms in Latin. "In
te, Domine, confido, non confundes in eternum." Then groping for the
block she laid down her head, putting her chin over the block with
both her hands under it, which had been cut off had they not been
preseen. Then lying upon the block and stretching out her body, she
cried aloud, "In manus tuas Domine," etc., three or four times, then
one of the executioners kneeling held her down by the middle and the
other gave the stroke, missing her neck cut into the bone of the head
behind, but she moved not, and at the second time he cut off her
head save only one sinew, which, being sawed asunder with the axe,
lifted up the head to the view of all the standers by and bid God
save the Queen. And the Dean said, "And so perish all her enemies."
Her head was grey as one of 70 years of age, polled very short, her
face being so much altered immediately from the form she had when
she was alive as few could remember for her dead face; she gasped
after her head was cut off by the space of half a quarter of an hour,
and after, the body lying there headless bleeding, my Lord of Kent
standing by it said with a loud voice, "This be the end and reward
of all that hate the gospel and her Majesty's government." Then one
of the executioners putting off her stockings, her little, waiting
dog was got under her clothes, which could not be gotten forth but
by force, which afterwards came and lay betwixt her head and her
shoulders, which being imbrued with her blood was carried away and
washed, and the executioners departed with money for their pains, and
not having any one thing that belonged to her, either of her apparel
or any other thing that was hers. And so the dead body and the head
was carried by the Sheriff and his men into the great chamber, lying
there ready for the chirurgeons to embalme her. Finis.

       *       *       *       *       *

FROM THE ASHMOLE MS. 830, F. 18, IN THE BODLEIAN LIBRARY, OXFORD

     The manner of the execution of Mary Queen of Scots, anno
     1586, the 8th of February, in the presence of such whose
     names be underwritten.

First, after she was brought down by the Sheriff to the place
prepared in the hall for the purpose, by the command of us the
Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, her Majesty's commission was openly
read, and then, according to a direction given before to Mr. Doctor
Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, he was willed to use some short and
pithy speech which might tend to admonish her of the dreariness of
her death and the only means of salvation in Christ Jesus. As soon as
he began to speak she interrupted him, saying she was a Catholick,
and that it was but a folly, being so resolutely determined as she
was, to move her otherwise, and that our prayers would do her little
good. Nevertheless a prayer was read by the said Dean, which was
pronounced (_sic_) by all the assembly, That it would please God if
it were His will to send her His Spirit and true repentance to bless
her Majesty and confound her enemies. During which time of prayer
she, being come down with many superstitions, crosses, and a pair
(praier) of beads, prayed also aloud. When the Dean had done then she
openly pronounced a prayer to this effect: To beseech God to send her
His Holy Spirit, and that she trusted to receive her salvation in His
blood, and of His grace to be received into His kingdom. She besought
God to forgive her enemies as she forgave them, and to turn His wrath
from this Island, to bless the Queen's Majesty that she might serve
Him, likewise to be merciful to her son, and to have compassion of
His afflicted Church, and though she was not worthy to be heard, yet
she had a confidence in His mercy, and prayed all the saints to pray
unto her Saviour to receive her. After this, turning aside towards
her servants, she desired them to pray for her that her Saviour
would receive her. Then upon petition made by the executioners, she
pardoned them, and said she was glad that the end of all her sorrows
was so near, then she misliked the whining and weeping of her women,
saying that they ought rather to thank God for her resoluteness, and
so kissing them willed them to depart the scaffold, and again with
a cross, with her hands towards her said servants, she bade them
farewell, and so resolutely kneeled down, and having a kerchief
bound over her eyes, laid down her neck, whereupon the executioners
proceeded, she repeating these words, "In manus tuas Domine commendo
spiritum meum," and certain other verses of the Psalms.

The names of them that were present at the execution:--

  Ea. Shrewsbury
  Ea. Kent
  Am. Paulett
  R. Knightley
  R. Wingfeild

  R. Beale
  Th. Andrewes
  Th. Montague
  Jo. Wingfild
  Jo. Crues

  R. Fletcher
  D. Drurie
  Ed. Montague
  Th. Brudewell
  Ri. Forrest

Finis.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE QUEEN OF SCOTS

"WHAT IS TO BE ANSWERED"

1586 (Dec.)--To that which Cicero "Pro Deiotaro" sayd to Cæsar, est
ita in usitatem Regem cap. reum esse ut ante hoc tempus non sit
auditum.

Porsenna pardoned Q. Mutius that wold have slayn hym.

Remedia sanguinolenta sunt mitia ... calamitate.

Sanguis sanguinem procreat.

Quamquam somnus sit necessarius, medici tamen ... dare capava.

Nunquam auditum est, neque ratio potest comprehendi, Reginam Scotorum
esse judiciabili.

For takyng away of the Scots Queen's liff cannot be a preservatyve
to the Queen, but contrary, for the offence that hir frends will
conceive, shall provocque them. The Queen of Scotts is so afflicted
as she can lyve but few yers or dayes, and therfor not to be douted
(feared) but rather to be pitied ever.

The French Kyng promiseth that he will impeach with his power, that
there shall be no such attemtat as ar pretended to have bene against
the Queen's Majesty. He will gyve order that the Queen of Scotts'
kynsfolk that ar in France shall bynd themselves, and shall sign
uppon ther fayths, that the Queen of Scotts, nor any for hir, shall
enterprise any thing against the Queen's Majesty.

If the Queen's Majesty will propound any other meanes which she shall
judg more proper for her suerty and satisfaction and will shew the
same to the Ambassadors, they will employ ther power therin.

Endorsed--"Reasons in the Lord Threasurer Burghley's owne hand
concerning the Queen of Scots."

Burghley's holograph, 1 p.

Hist. MSS. Com., Hatfield House Papers, Part iii. p. 206.

       *       *       *       *       *

MEMORIAL FROM SECRETARY WALSINGHAM TOUCHING THE EXECUTION OF THE
QUEEN OF SCOTS

1586-87, Feb. 2.--Letters presently to be sent to E.L. (Earl of
Leicester), with order to return speedy answer.

Sir Amias to be assured of the E(arl) of K(ent) repair to
Fotheringhay at the day appointed before he send the particular
letter to the Earl of Shrewsbury.

After the return of the Earl of Kent's answer, Burnell to be sent
down unto Sir Amias with the commission and letters unto the
two Earls. For the colouring of his going down he is to have a
commission to be furnished with post-horses in Scotland.

(Noted in margin) The Earl of Kent may be ordered to advertise Sir
Amias of the time of his coming by some trusted servant of his own.

The Earl of Shrewsbury to be warned by the particular letter
immediately after Burnell's arrival.

To consider what speeches were fit for the two Earls to use at the
time of the execution.

(Noted in margin by Burghley) To express her many attempts both for
destruction of the Queen's person and the invasion of this realm;
that the hope and comforts she hath given to the Prince Palatine,
traitors of this realm, both abroad and here at home, are the very
occasions of all the attempts that have been against Her Majesty's
person, and so confessed, and yet so continue, so as sure by the laws
of God and man she is justly condemned to die. The whole realm hath
often time vehemently required that justice might be done, which Her
Majesty cannot longer delay.

To set down a form of proceeding in the execution by way of advice.

The Lords that are to be made acquainted with this matter are to
consult on these points.

To appoint only the Scottish Queen's chief officers and servant to
assist at the execution, excluding the women.

To direct the Earls what to do in case she shall desire any private
speech.

(Noted by Burghley) Not to refuse it, so it be to three or two at the
least.

Some especial person to be appointed to note her speech.

Her servant(s) both (s) and (_sic_) for to be stayed for a time in
this realm.

(Noted by Burghley) To remain also in the Castle until further order.

Sir Amias to be directed to the gates "strayte" after warning given
to the Queen.

The Earl to be appointed how many of the servants shall attend at the
time of the execution.

The body to be buried in the night in the parish church in such
uppermost[205] place as by the two Earls shall be thought fit.

[Footnote 205: This word interlined in Burghley's hand.]

Whether not meet to be "barlmed" (embalmed).

To send down the "shryve" (sheriff) of Northampton if he be here.

The exec(utioner) to be sent down.

To take order that her jewels and plate may not be embezzled by her
servants.

That Melvill and her principal women be acquainted therewith, and
their seals to be put to the cases, etc.[206]

[Footnote 206: The words are interlined by Burghley.]

If the Sheriff by some great impediment cannot attend, to advise what
then to be done.

The Lords at the court[207] to give out that there will be no
execution.

[Footnote 207: _Ibid._]

(The sheet of paper has been torn through from end to end, but has
since been repaired.)

Endorsed by Burghley--"2nd Feb. 1586. Memorial for the Scots Queen
from Mr. Secretary Walsingham."

Hist. MSS. Com., Hatfield House Papers, Part iii. No. 471.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE PRIVY COUNCIL TO THE QUEEN

(1586-87) 12th Feb.--We, your born, bound, and sworn subjects,
servants, and counsellors, attending in your court, for your service
only, do most lowly, humbly, and sorrowfully pray and beseech your
Majesty, that you will suspend your heavy sensure against us,
until we may declare the intention of our late councils for the
orderly removing of the danger of your life, and the manner of our
proceedings therin.

And in the meantime, to the bottom of our hearts, we confess that
we are most heartily sorry to hear that your Majesty is so deeply
grieved in your mind, as thereby your health, the maintenance of your
life, must needs be hindered, and the present government of your
state being now environed with many difficulties, or rather dangers,
for lack of your favourable audience to be given to us, must needs
receive great detriment, and hardly to be recovered. And howsoever
your Majesty doth make our actions to be the ground of your grief
and offence towards us, wherof we are most sorry, yet we beseech
your Majesty, in your great wisdom, though you will yet continue
offended against us, yet cease to grieve yourself with thinking of
that which never can be revoked, and let us hear your offence to our
griefs, until it may please your Majesty either to hear us for our
defence, or to change your mind, when you shall plainly see with the
eyes of all your faithful subjects, that there was never any worldly
act that could bring more surety to your own life, more strength
to all your good subjects at home, and your friends abroad, nor,
contrarywise, more grieve and discomfort your enemies, in seeing the
anchor of their hold lost, and the foundation of all their intended
machinations dissolved.

Thus, most gracious Lady, though we are most desirous to have your
offence against us qualified, as we hope in God's goodness to obtain
by means of the clearness of our consciences, yet we rather prefer
with sobbing hearts our desire to have your grief of mind to cease,
and to give yourself to your natural food and sleep, to maintain
your health, without which we have no comfort to live or breathe.

Endorsed by Burghley--"A writing in the name of all the counsellors
that sent Mr. Beale to the Earl of Shrewsbury."

Burghley's draft, 1-1/2 pp.

Hist. MSS. Com., Hatfield House, vol. iii.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE CONFERENCE OR COMMYSSONE BETWEEN THE QUENE OF SCOTTES AND THE
LORDES CONCERNINGE HER EXAMINACION

F. 196, 1586....--In the morninge upon Frydaie, shee resolved to
appeare, and so aboute 9 of the clocke came furthe into the presence
chamber, which was prepared and hanged with clouthe of state in the
upper parte and downe alonge bothe sides. There were formes covered
with grene for the Earles and Lordes on the righte side, and for
Barons on the lefte side. Somewhat below the middle of the chamber
was a barre sette and within the barre a fourme for the Knightes of
the Privie Counsell, and before there fourmes was a chair with a
quishione and a foote carpett, for the Quene of Scottes, dyrectlie
againste the seate belowe. In the middle of the chamber was a
table, wherat sate the Quene's Attorney and Sollicitor, the Quene's
Sergeaunte, the Clerkes of the Crowne, the two notaries directlie
above the table. In the middeste of the chamber were two fourmes,
wherupon sate, on the righte side, the Lord Chief Justice of England,
the Lorde Chief Baron, Doctor Dalle, Doctor Forde. Over againste them
sate the Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, Justice Piream;
belowe the barre sate suche gentlemen as came to see the action.

  On the right side were
     these Lordes:--                             [On the left side.]

  The Lord Chauncelor  }                         { The Lord Aburgaveny
  The Lord Treasourer  }                         { The Lord Zouche
  Earle of Oxford      }                         { The Lord Morley
  Earle of Shrewsburie }                         { The Lord Stafford
  Earle of Kente       }                         { The Lord Graye
  Earle of Derby       }                         { The Lord Sturton
  Earle of Worcester   }                         { The Lord Sandes
  Earle of Rutlaund    }                         { The Lord Wentworth,
  Earle of Cumberland  } Sir James Crofte        { The Lord Mordant,
  Earle of Warwicke    } Sir Walter Mildmaie     { The Lord St John of Bletso
  Earle of Lincolne    } Sir Ralphe Sadler       { The Lord Compton
  Earle of Penbrooke   } Sir Frauncis Walsingham { The Lord Chenie
  Viscounte Montague   } Mr. Vice-chamberlaine

Hist. MSS. Com., Lord Kenyon, 1894.

       *       *       *       *       *

NOTE TO PAGE 49

From _Mary Stewart: A Brief Statement_, Hosack, p. 33.

There is a note in Cecil's writing, written about the time of the
York Conference (1568), which contrasts curiously with Bromley's
words. Cecil says, "She is to be helped because she came willingly
into the realm upon trust of the Queen's Majesty. She trusted upon
the Queen's Majesty's help, because she had in her troubles _received
many messages to that effect_."


NOTE TO PAGE 80

"Att her risinge first upp, shee talked longe with the
Lord Treasourer, cominge to him to his seate, after to Mr.
Vice-Chamberlaine and to Mr. Secretarye, excusinge herselve unto
them, and like a serpente to winde herselve unto them. She said unto
the Earle of Warwicke that shee hard hee was an honourable gentleman,
desiringe him not to beleve all thinges that hee hard of her,
desiringe him to comende her to my Lord of Leycester, sayinge that
shee wished him good successe in all his affaires."--Hist. MSS. Com.,
Lord Kenyon, 1894, pp. 621-626.

       *       *       *       *       *

INSCRIPTION ROUND THE MINIATURE, AND LIST OF THE RELICS

                                    |       _Reverse_
  Maria [...] Scotiæ Regina         |      Ex Ligno S Crucis
    Martyrio affecta a'o 158[6] 20  |  S. Quirini      S. Victor
    Septembris in Anglia.           |      S. Bernardi Abb.
                                    |
  S. Margaretæ                      |  B.P. Ignatii    B. Campiani M
  S. Barbaræ, V.M.                  |  S. Flori M      B. Walpole
  S. Mar......                      |  B.P. Xaverii    B. Stanislai
  S. Catharin[æ S]enens             |  B. Aloysii      B. Garneti
  S. Aldegundis, V.                 |
  S. Margaretæ Scotiæ               |  S. Car Boromei
  S. Co...enæ                       |  S. Vincentii M
  S. Scholasticæ V.M.               |  S. Jacobi Minor M
  B.M. Teresæ                       |  S. M... M
                                    |  S. Thomi
                                    |  S. Iovini M
                                    |  S. Polycarpi M


THE END


_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh._