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The envoys returned to London, where they awaited the promised
reply;
but while they were expecting it unavailingly, they heard quietly
the
sentence of death given against Queen Mary, which decided them to
return
to Richmond to make fresh remonstrances to Queen Elizabeth. After two
or
three fruitless journeys, they were at last, December 15th, admitted
for
the second time to the royal presence.
The queen did not deny that
the sentence had been pronounced, and as it
was easy to see that she did not
intend in this case to use her right of
pardon, M. de Bellievre, judging that
there was nothing to be done,
asked for a safe-conduct to return to his king:
Elizabeth promised it to
him within two or three days.
On the
following Tuesday, the 17th of the same month of December,
Parliament as well
as the chief lords of the realm were convoked at the
Palace of Westminster,
and there, in full court and before all, sentence
of death was proclaimed and
pronounced against Mary Stuart: then this
same sentence, with great display
and great solemnity, was read in the
squares and at the cross-roads of
London, whence it spread throughout
the kingdom; and upon this proclamation
the bells rang for twenty-four
hours, while the strictest orders were given
to each of the inhabitants
to light bonfires in front of their houses, as is
the custom in France
on the Eve of St. John the Baptist.
Then, amid
this sound of bells, by the light of these bonfires, M. de
Bellievre, wishing
to make a last effort, in order to have nothing with
which to reproach
himself, wrote the following letter to Queen
Elizabeth:
"MADAM:—We
quitted your Majesty yesterday, expecting, as it had pleased
you to inform
us, to receive in a few days your reply touching the
prayer that we made you
on behalf of our good master, your brother, for
the Queen of Scotland, his
sister in-law and confederate; but as this
morning we have been informed that
the judgment given against the said
queen has been proclaimed in London,
although we had promised ourselves
another issue from your clemency and the
friendship your bear to the
said lord king your good brother, nevertheless,
to neglect no part of
our duty, and believing in so doing to serve the
intentions of the king
our master, we have not wanted to fail to write to you
this present
letter, in which we supplicate you once again, very humbly, not
to
refuse his Majesty the very pressing and very affectionate prayer
that
he has made you, that you will be pleased to preserve the life of
the
said lady Queen of Scotland, which the said lord king will receive
as
the greatest pleasure your Majesty could do him; while, on the
contrary,
he could not imagine anything which would cause him more
displeasure,
and which would wound him more, than if he were used harshly
with regard
to the said lady queen, being what she is to him: and as, madam,
the
said king our master, your good brother, when for this object
he
despatched us to your Majesty, had not conceived that it was
possible,
in any case, to determine so promptly upon such an execution, we
implore
you, madam, very humbly, before permitting it to go further, to grant
us
some time in which we can make known to him the state of the affairs
of
the said Queen of Scotland, in order that before your Majesty takes
a
final resolution, you may know what it may please his very
Christian
Majesty to tell you and point out to you on the greatest affair
which,
in our memory, has been submitted to men’s judgment. Monsieur
de
Saint-Cyr, who will give these presents to your Majesty, will bring
us,
if it pleases you, your good reply.
"London, this 16th day of
December 1586.
"(Signed) DE BELLIEVRE,
"And DE L’AUBESPINE
CHATEAUNEUF."
The same day, M. de Saint-Cyr and the other French lords
returned to
Richmond to take this letter; but the queen would not receive
them,
alleging indisposition, so that they were obliged to leave the
letter
with Walsingham, her first Secretary of State, who promised them to
send
the queen’s answer the following day.
In spite of this promise,
the French lords waited two days more: at
last, on the second day, towards
evening, two English gentlemen sought
out M. de Fellievre in London, and,
viva voce, without any letter to
confirm what they were charged to say,
announced to him, on behalf of
their queen, that in reply to the letter that
they had written her, and
to do justice to the desire they had shown to
obtain for the condemned a
reprieve during which they would make known the
decision to the King of
France, her Majesty would grant twelve days. As this
was Elizabeth’s
last word, and it was useless to lose time in pressing her
further, M.
de Genlis was immediately despatched to his Majesty the King of
France,
to whom, besides the long despatch of M. de Chateauneuf and de
Bellievre
which he was charged to remit, he was to say ’viva voce’ what he
had
seen and heard relative to the affairs of Queen Mary during the
whole
time he had been in England.
Henry III responded immediately
with a letter containing fresh
instructions for MM. de Chateauneuf and de
Bellievre; but in spite of
all the haste M. de Genlis could make, he did not
reach London till the
fourteenth day—that is to say, forty-eight hours after
the expiration of
the delay granted; nevertheless, as the sentence had not
yet been put
into execution, MM. de Bellievre and de Chateauneuf set out at
once for
Greenwich Castle, some miles from London, where the queen was
keeping
Christmas, to beg her to grant them an audience, in which they
could
transmit to her Majesty their king’s reply; but they could
obtain
nothing for four or five days; however, as they were not
disheartened,
and returned unceasingly to the charge, January 6th, MM. de
Bellievre
and de Chateauneuf were at last sent for by the queen.
As on
the first occasion, they were introduced with all the ceremonial
in use at
that time, and found Elizabeth in an audience-chamber. The
ambassadors
approached her, greeted her, and M. de Bellievre began to
address to her with
respect, but at the same time with firmness, his
master’s remonstrances.
Elizabeth listened to them with an impatient
air, fidgeting in her seat; then
at last, unable to control herself, she
burst out, rising and growing red
with anger—
"M. de Bellievre," said she, "are you really charged by the
king, my
brother, to speak to me in such a way?"
"Yes, madam," replied
M. de Bellievre, bowing; "I am expressly commanded
to do so."
"And
have you this command under his hand?" continued Elizabeth.
"Yes, madam,"
returned the ambassador with the same calmness; "and the
king, my master,
your good brother, has expressly charged me, in letters
signed by his own
hand, to make to your Majesty the remonstrances which
I have had the honour
to address to you."
"Well," cried Elizabeth, no longer containing
herself, "I demand of you
a copy of that letter, signed by you; and reflect
that you will answer
for each word that you take away or
add."
"Madam," answered M. de Bellievre, "it is not the custom of the
kings of
France, or of their agents, to forge letters or documents; you will
have
the copies you require to-morrow morning, and I pledge their accuracy
on
my honour."
"Enough, sir, enough!" said the queen, and signing to
everyone in the
room to go out, she remained nearly an hour with MM. de
Chateauneuf and
de Bellievre. No one knows what passed in that interview,
except that
the queen promised to send an ambassador to the King of France,
who, she
promised, would be in Paris, if not before, at least at the same
time as
M. de Bellievre, and would be the bearer of her final resolve as to
the
affairs of the Queen of Scotland; Elizabeth then withdrew, giving
the
French envoys to understand that any fresh attempt they might make
to
see her would be useless.
On the 13th of January the ambassadors
received their passports, and at
the same time notice that a vessel of the
queen’s was awaiting them at
Dover.
The very day of their departure a
strange incident occurred. A gentleman
named Stafford, a brother of
Elizabeth’s ambassador to the King of
France, presented himself at M. de
Trappes’s, one of the officials in
the French chancellery, telling him that
he was acquainted with a
prisoner for debt who had a matter of the utmost
importance to
communicate to him, and that he might pay the greater attention
to it,
he told him that this matter was connected with the service of the
King
of France, and concerned the affairs of Queen Mary of Scotland. M.
de
Trappes, although mistrusting this overture from the first, did
not
want, in case his suspicions deceived him, to have to reproach
himself
for any neglect on such a pressing occasion. He repaired, then,
with;
Mr. Stafford to the prison, where he who wished to converse with him
was
detained. When he was with him, the prisoner told him that he was
locked
up for a debt of only twenty crowns, and that his desire to be
at
liberty was so great that if M. de Chateauneuf would pay that sum
for
him he would undertake to deliver the Queen of Scotland from her
danger,
by stabbing Elizabeth: to this proposal, M. de Trappes, who saw
the
pitfall laid for the French ambassador, was greatly astonished, and
said
that he was certain that M. de Chateauneuf would consider as very
evil
every enterprise having as its aim to threaten in any way the life
of
Queen Elizabeth or the peace of the realm; then, not desiring to
hear
more, he returned to M. de Chateauneuf and related to him what had
just
happened. M. de Chateauneuf, who perceived the real cause of
this
overture, immediately said to Mr. Stafford that he thought it
strange
that a gentleman like himself should undertake with another
gentleman
such treachery, and requested him to leave the Embassy at once,
and
never to set foot there again. Then Stafford withdrew, and, appearing
to
think himself a lost man, he implored M. de Trappes to allow him
to
cross the Channel with him and the French envoys. M. de Trappes
referred
him to M. de Chateauneuf, who answered Mr. Stafford directly that he
had
not only forbidden him his house, but also all relations with any
person
from the Embassy, that he must thus very well see that his request
could
not be granted; he added that if he were not restrained by
the
consideration he desired to keep for his brother, the Earl of
Stafford,
his colleague, he would at once denounce his treason to Elizabeth.
The
same day Stafford was arrested.
After this conference, M. de
Trappes set out to rejoin his travelling
companions, who were some hours in
advance of him, when, on reaching
Dover he was arrested in his turn and
brought hack to prison in London.
Interrogated the same day, M. de Trappes
frankly related what had
passed, appealing to M. de Chateauneuf as to the
truth of what he said.
The day following there was a second
interrogatory, and great was his
amazement when, on requesting that the one
of the day before should be
shown him, he was merely shown, according to
custom in English law,
counterfeit copies, in which were avowals compromising
him as well as M.
de Chateauneuf: he objected and protested, refused to
answer or to sign
anything further, and was taken back to the Tower with
redoubled
precaution, the object of which was the appearance of an
important
accusation.
Next day, M. de Chateauneuf was summoned before
the queen, and there
confronted with Stafford, who impudently maintained that
he had treated
of a plot with M. de Trappes and a certain prisoner for debt—a
plot
which aimed at nothing less than endangering the Queen’s life. M.
de
Chateauneuf defended himself with the warmth of indignation,
but
Elizabeth had too great an interest in being unconvinced even to
attend
to the evidence. She then said to M. de Chateauneuf that his
character
of ambassador alone prevented her having him arrested like
his
accomplice M. de Trappes; and immediately despatching, as she
had
promised, an ambassador to King Henry III, she charged him not to
excuse
her for the sentence which had just been pronounced and the death
which
must soon follow, but to accuse M. de Chateauneuf of having taken
part
in a plot of which the discovery alone had been able to decide her
to
consent to the death of the Queen of Scotland, certain as she was
by
experience, that so long as her enemy lived her existence would
be
hourly threatened.
On the same day, Elizabeth made haste to spread,
not only in London, but
also throughout England, the rumour of the fresh
danger from which she
had just escaped, so that, when, two days after the
departure of the
French envoys, the Scottish ambassadors, who, as one sees,
had not used
much speed, arrived, the queen answered them that their request
came
unseasonably, at a time when she had just had proof that, so long
as
Mary Stuart existed, her own (Elizabeth’s) life was in danger.
Robert
Melville wished to reply to this; but Elizabeth flew into a
passion,
saying that it was he, Melville, who had given the King of Scotland
the
bad advice to intercede for his mother, and that if she had such
an
adviser she would have him beheaded. To which Melville
answered—
"That at the risk of his life he would never spare his master
good
advice; and that, on the contrary, he who would counsel a son to let
his
mother perish, would deserve to be beheaded."
Upon this reply,
Elizabeth ordered the Scotch envoys to withdrew,
telling them that she would
let them have her answer.
Three or four days passed, and as they heard
nothing further, they asked
again for a parting audience to hear the last
resolve of her to whom
they were sent: the queen then decided to grant it,
and all passed, as
with M. de Bellievre, in recriminations and complaints.
Finally,
Elizabeth asked them what guarantee they would give for her life in
the
event of her consenting to pardon the Queen of Scotland. The
envoys
responded that they were authorised to make pledges in the name of
the
King of Scotland, their master, and all the lords of his realm,
that
Mary Stuart should renounce in favour of her son all her claims upon
the
English crown, and that she should give as security for this
undertaking
the King of France, and all the princes and lords, his relations
and
friends.
To this answer, the queen, without her usual presence of
mind, cried,
"What are you saying, Melville? That would be to arm my enemy
with two
claims, while he has only one".
"Does your Majesty then
regard the king, my master, as your enemy?"
replied Melville. "He believed
himself happier, madam, and thought he
was your ally."
"No, no,"
Elizabeth said, blushing; "it is a way of speaking: and if you
find a means
of reconciling everything, gentlemen, to prove to you, on
the contrary, that
I regard King James VI as my good and faithful ally,
I am quite ready to
incline to mercy. Seek, then, on your side" added
she, "while I seek on
mine."
With these words, she went out of the room, and the ambassadors
retired,
with the light of the hope of which she had just let them catch
a
glimpse.
The same evening, a gentleman at the court sought out the
Master of
Gray, the head of the Embassy, as if to pay him a civil visit, and
while
conversing said to him, "That it was very difficult to reconcile
the
safety of Queen Elizabeth with the life of her prisoner; that
besides,
if the Queen of Scotland were pardoned, and she or her son ever came
to
the English throne, there would be no security for the
lords
commissioners who had voted her death; that there was then only one
way
of arranging everything, that the King of Scotland should himself
give
up his claims to the kingdom of England; that otherwise, according
to
him, there was no security for Elizabeth in saving the life of
the
Scottish queen". The Master of Gray then, looking at him fixedly,
asked
him if his sovereign had charged him to come to him with this talk.
But
the gentleman denied it, saying that all this was on his own account
and
in the way of opinion.
Elizabeth received the envoys from Scotland
once more, and then told
them—
"That after having well considered, she
had found no way of saving the
life of the Queen of Scotland while securing
her own, that accordingly
she could not grant it to them". To this
declaration, the Master of Gray
replied: "That since it was thus, he was, in
this case, ordered by his
master to say that they protested in the name of
King James that all
that had been done against his mother was of no account,
seeing that
Queen Elizabeth had no authority over a queen, as she was her
equal in
rank and birth; that accordingly they declared that immediately
after
their return, and when their master should know the result of
their
mission, he would assemble his Parliament and send messengers to all
the
Christian princes, to take counsel with them as to what could be done
to
avenge her whom they could not save."
Then Elizabeth again flew
into a passion, saying that they had certainly
not received from their king a
mission to speak to her in such a way;
but they thereupon offered to give her
this protest in writing under
their signatures; to which Elizabeth replied
that she would send an
ambassador to arrange all that with her good friend
and ally, the King
of Scotland. But the envoys then said that their master
would not listen
to anyone before their return. Upon which Elizabeth begged
them not to
go away at once, because she had not yet come to her final
decision upon
this matter. On the evening following this audience, Lord
Hingley having
come to see the Master of Gray, and having seemed to notice
some
handsome pistols which came from Italy, Gray, directly he had
gone,
asked this nobleman’s cousin to take them to him as a gift from
him.
Delighted with this pleasant commission, the young man wished to
perform
it the same evening, and went to the queen’s palace, where his
relative
was staying, to give him the present which he had been told to take
to
him. But hardly had he passed through a few rooms than he was
arrested,
searched, and the arms he was taking were found upon him. Although
these
were not loaded, he was immediately arrested; only he was not taken
to
the Tower, but kept a prisoner in his own room.
Next day there was
a rumour that the Scotch ambassadors had wanted to
assassinate the queen in
their turn, and that pistols, given by the
Master of Gray himself, had been
found on the assassin.
This bad faith could not but open the envoys’
eyes. Convinced at last
that they could do nothing for poor Mary Stuart, they
left her to her
fate, and set out next day for Scotland.
Scarcely were
they gone than Elizabeth sent her secretary, Davison, to
Sir Amyas Paulet. He
was instructed to sound him again with regard to
the prisoner; afraid, in
spite of herself, of a public execution, the
queen had reverted to her former
ideas of poisoning or assassination;
but Sir Amyas Paulet declared that he
would let no one have access to
Mary but the executioner, who must in
addition be the bearer of a
warrant perfectly in order, Davison reported this
answer to Elizabeth,
who, while listening to him, stamped her foot several
times, and when he
had finished, unable to control herself, cried, "God’s
death! there’s a
dainty fellow, always talking of his fidelity and not
knowing how to
prove it!"
Elizabeth was then obliged to make up her
mind. She asked Davison for
the warrant; he gave it to her, and, forgetting
that she was the
daughter of a queen who had died on the scaffold, she signed
it without
any trace of emotion; then, having affixed to it the great seal
of
England, "Go," said she, laughing, "tell Walsingham that all is
ended
for Queen Mary; but tell him with precautions, for, as he is ill, I
am
afraid he will die of grief when he hears it."
The jest was the
more atrocious in that Walsingham was known to be the
Queen of Scotland’s
bitterest enemy.
Towards evening of that day, Saturday the 14th, Beale,
Walsingham’s
brother-in-law, was summoned to the palace! The queen gave into
his
hands the death warrant, and with it an order addressed to the Earls
of
Shrewsbury, Kent, Rutland, and other noblemen in the neighbourhood
of
Fotheringay, to be present at the execution. Beale took with him
the
London executioner, whom Elizabeth had had dressed in black velvet
for
this great occasion; and set out two hours after he had received
his
warrant.
CHAPTER IX
Queen Mary had known
the decree of the commissioners these two months.
The very day it had been
pronounced she had learned the news through her
chaplain, whom they had
allowed her to see this once only. Mary Stuart
had taken advantage of this
visit to give him three letters she had just
written-one for Pope Sixtus V,
the other to Don Bernard Mendoza, the
third to the Duke of Guise. Here is
that last letter:—
14th December, 1586
"My Good Cousin, whom I
hold dearest in the world, I bid you farewell,
being prepared to be put to
death by an unjust judgment, and to a death
such as no one of our race,
thanks to God, and never a queen, and still
less one of my rank, has ever
suffered. But, good cousin, praise the
Lord; for I was useless to the cause
of God and of His Church in this
world, prisoner as I was; while, on the
contrary, I hope that my death
will bear witness to my constancy in the faith
and to my willingness to
suffer for the maintenance and the restoration of
the Catholic Church in
this unfortunate island. And though never has
executioner dipped his
hand in our blood, have no shame of it, my friend; for
the judgment of
heretics who have no authority over me, a free queen, is
profitable in
the sight of God to the children of His Church. If I adhered,
moreover,
to what they propose to me, I should not suffer this stroke. All of
our
house have been persecuted by this sect, witness your good
father,
through whose intercession I hope to be received with mercy by the
just
judge. I commend to you, then, my poor servants, the discharge of
my
debts, and the founding of some annual mass for my soul, not at
your
expense, but that you may make the arrangements, as you will be
required
when you learn my wishes through my poor and faithful servants, who
are
about to witness my last tragedy. God prosper you, your wife,
children,
brothers and cousins, and above all our chief, my good brother
and
cousin, and all his. The blessing of God and that which I shall give
to
my children be on yours, whom I do not commend less to God than my
own
son, unfortunate and ill-treated as he is. You will receive some
rings
from me, which will remind you to pray God for the soul of your
poor
cousin, deprived of all help and counsel except that of the Lord,
who
gives me strength and courage to alone to resist so many wolves
howling
after me. To God be the glory.
"Believe particularly what will
be told you by a person who will give
you a ruby ring from me; for I take it
on my conscience that the truth
will be told you of what I have charged him
to tell, and especially in
what concerns my poor servants and the share of
any. I commend this
person to you for his simple sincerity and honesty, that
he may be
placed in some good place. I have chosen him as the least partial
and as
the one who will most simply bring you my commands. Ignore, I beg
you,
that he told you anything in particular; for envy might injure him.
I
have suffered a great deal for two years and more, and have not
been
able to let you know, for an important reason. God be praised for
all,
and give you grace to persevere in the service of His Church as long
as
you live, and never may this honour pass from our race, while so
many
men and women are ready to shed their blood to maintain the fight
for
the faith, all other worldly considerations set aside. And as to me,
I
esteem myself born on both father’s and mother’s sides, that I
should
offer up my blood for this cause, and I have no intention
of
degenerating. Jesus, crucified for us, and all the holy martyrs, make
us
by their intercession worthy of the voluntary offering we make of
our
bodies to their glory!
"From Fotheringay, this Thursday, 24th
November.
"They have, thinking to degrade me, pulled down my canopy of
state, and
since then my keeper has come to offer to write to their queen,
saying
this deed was not done by his order, but by the advice of some of
the
Council. I have shown them instead of my arms on the said canopy
the
cross of Our Lord. You will hear all this; they have been more
gentle
since.—Your affectionate cousin and perfect friend,
"MARY,
Queen of Scotland, Dowager of France"
From this day forward, when she
learned the sentence delivered by the
commissioners, Mary Stuart no longer
preserved any hope; for as she knew
Elizabeth’s pardon was required to save
her, she looked upon herself
thenceforward as lost, and only concerned
herself with preparing to die
well. Indeed, as it had happened to her
sometimes, from the cold and
damp in her prisons, to become crippled for some
time in all her limbs,
she was afraid of being so when they would come to
take her, which would
prevent her going resolutely to the scaffold, as she
was counting on
doing. So, on Saturday the 14th February, she sent for her
doctor,
Bourgoin, and asked him, moved by a presentiment that her death was
at
hand, she said, what she must do to prevent the return of the
pains
which crippled her. He replied that it would be good for her to
medicine
herself with fresh herbs. "Go, then," said the queen, "and ask Sir
Amyas
Paulet from me permission to seek them in the fields."
Bourgoin
went to Sir Amyas, who, as he himself was troubled with
sciatica, should have
understood better than anyone the need of the
remedies for which the queen
asked. But this request, simple as it was,
raised great difficulties. Sir
Amyas replied that he could do nothing
without referring to his companion,
Drury; but that paper and ink might
be brought, and that he, Master Bourgoin,
could then make a list of the
needful plants, which they would try to
procure. Bourgoin answered that
he did not know English well enough, and that
the village apothecaries
did not know enough Latin, for him to risk the
queen’s life for some
error by himself or others. Finally, after a thousand
hesitations,
Paulet allowed Bourgoin to go out, which he did, accompanied by
the
apothecary Gorjon; so that the following day the queen was able to
begin
to doctor herself.
Mary Stuart’s presentiments had not deceived
her: Tuesday, February
17th, at about two o’clock in the afternoon, the Earls
of Kent and
Shrewsbury, and Beale sent word to the queen that they desired to
speak
with her. The queen answered that she was ill and in bed, but that
if
notwithstanding what they had to tell her was a matter of
importance,
and they would give her a little time, she would get up. They
made
answer that the communication they had to make admitted of no
delay,
that they begged her then to make ready; which the queen
immediately
did, and rising from her bed and cloaking herself, she went and
seated
herself at a little table, on the same spot where she was wont to
be
great part of the day.
Then the two earls, accompanied by Beale,
Arnyas Paulet, and Drue Drury,
entered. Behind them, drawn by curiosity, full
of terrible anxiety, came
her dearest ladies and most cherished servants.
These were, of
womenkind, the Misses Renee de Really, Gilles Mowbray, Jeanne
Kennedy,
Elspeth Curle, Mary Paget, and Susan Kercady; and of men-kind,
Dominique
Bourgoin her doctor, Pierre Gorjon her apothecary, Jacques Gervais
her
surgeon, Annibal Stewart her footman, Dither Sifflart her butler,
Jean
Laudder her baker, and Martin Huet her carver.
Then the Earl of
Shrewsbury, with head bared like all those present, who
remained thus as long
as they were in the queen’s room, began to say in
English, addressing
Mary—
"Madam, the Queen of England, my august mistress, has sent me to
you,
with the Earl of Kent and Sir Robert Beale, here present, to make
known
to you that after having honourably proceeded in the inquiry into
the
deed of which you are accused and found guilty, an inquiry which
has
already been submitted to your Grace by Lord Buckhurst, and
having
delayed as long as it was in her power the execution of the
sentence,
she can no longer withstand the importunity of her subjects, who
press
her to carry it out, so great and loving is their fear for her. For
this
purpose we have come the bearers of a commission, and we beg
very
humbly, madam, that it may please you to hear it read."
"Read, my
lord; I am listening," replied Mary Stuart, with the greatest
calmness. Then
Robert Beale unrolled the said commission, which was on
parchment, sealed
with the Great Seal in yellow wax, and read as
follows:
"Elizabeth, by
the grace of God, Queen of England, France, and Ireland,
etc., to our beloved
and faithful cousins, George, Earl of Shrewsbury,
Grand Marshal of England;
Henry, Earl of Kent; Henry, Earl of Derby;
George, Earl of Cumberland; Henry,
Earl of Pembroke, greeting: [The
Earls of Cumberland, Derby, and Pembroke did
not attend to the queen’s
orders, and were present neither at the reading of
the sentence nor at
the execution.]
"Considering the sentence by us
given, and others of our Council,
nobility, and judges, against the former
Queen of Scotland, bearing the
name of Mary, daughter and heiress of James v,
King of Scotland,
commonly called Queen of Scotland and Dowager of France,
which sentence
all the estates of our realm in our last Parliament assembled
not only
concluded, but, after mature deliberation, ratified as being just
and
reasonable; considering also the urgent prayer and request of
our
subjects, begging us and pressing us to proceed to the
publication
thereof, and to carry it into execution against her person,
according as
they judge it duly merited, adding in this place that her
detention was
and would be daily a certain and evident danger, not only to
our life,
but also to themselves and their posterity, and to the public weal
of
this realm, as much on account of the Gospel and the true religion
of
Christ as of the peace and tranquillity of this State, although the
said
sentence has been frequently delayed, so that even until this time
we
abstained from issuing the commission to execute it: yet, for
the
complete satisfaction of the said demands made by the Estates of
our
Parliament, through which daily we hear that all our friends
and
subjects, as well as the nobility, the wisest, greatest, and most
pious,
nay, even those of inferior condition, with all humility and
affection
from the care they have of our life, and consequently from the fear
they
have of the destruction of the present divine and happy state of
the
realm if we spare the final execution, consenting and desiring the
said
execution; though the general and continual demands, prayers,
counsels,
and advice were in such things contrary to our natural inclination;
yet,
being convinced of the urgent weight of their continual
intercessions
tending to the safety of our person, and also to the public and
private
state of our realm, we have at last consented and suffered that
justice
have its course, and for its execution, considering the
singular
confidence we have in your fidelity and loyalty together for the
love
and affection that you have toward us, particularly to the
safe-guarding
of our person and our country of which you are very noble and
chief
members; we summon, and, for the discharge of it we enjoin you, that
at
sight of these presents you go to the castle of Fotheringay, where
the
former Queen of Scotland is, in the care of our friend and
faithful
servant and counsellor, Sir Amyas Paulet, and there take into
your
keeping and do that by your command execution be done on her person,
in
the presence of yourselves and the said Sir Amyas Paulet, and of all
the
other officers of justice whom you command to be there: in the
meantime
we have for this end and this execution given warrant in such a way
and
manner, and in such a time and place, and by such persons, that
you
five, four, three, or two, find expedient in your
discretion;
notwithstanding all laws, statutes, and ordinances whatsoever,
contrary
to these presents, sealed with our Great Seal of England, which
will
serve for each of you, and all those who are present, or will make
by
your order anything pertaining to the execution aforesaid full
and
sufficient discharge for ever.
"Done and given in our house at
Greenwich, the first day of February
(10th February New Style), in the
twenty-ninth year of our reign."
Mary listened to this reading with great
calmness and great dignity;
then, when it was ended, making the sign of the
cross—
"Welcome," said she, "to all news which comes in the name of
God!
Thanks, Lord, for that You deign to put an end to all the ills You
have
seen me suffer for nineteen years and more."
"Madam," said the
Earl of Kent, "have no ill-will towards us on account
of your death; it was
necessary to the peace of the State and the
progress of the new
religion."
"So," cried Mary with delight, "so I shall have the happiness
of dying
for the faith of my fathers; thus God deigns to grant me the glory
of
martyrdom. Thanks, God," added she, joining her hands with
less
excitement but with more piety, "thanks that You have deigned to
destine
for me such an end, of which I was not worthy. That, O my God, is
indeed
a proof of Your love, and an assurance that You will receive me in
the
number of Your servants; for although this sentence had been notified
to
me, I was afraid, from the manner in which they have dealt with me
for
nineteen years, of not yet being so near as I am to such a happy
end,
thinking that your queen would not dare to lay a hand on me, who, by
the
grace of God, am a queen as she is, the daughter of a queen as she
is,
crowned as she is, her near relative, granddaughter of King Henry
VII,
and who has had the honour of being Queen of France, of which I am
still
Dowager; and this fear was so much the greater," added she, laying
her
hand on a New Testament which was near her on the little table, "that,
I
swear on this holy book, I have never attempted, consented to, or
even
desired the death of my sister, the Queen of England."
"Madam,"
replied the Earl of Kent, taking a step towards her and
pointing to the New
Testament; "this book on which you have sworn is not
genuine, since it is the
papist version; consequently, your oath cannot
be considered as any more
genuine than the book on which it has been
taken."
"My lord," answered
the queen, "what you say may befit you, but not me,
who well know that this
book is the true and faithful version of the
word of the Lord, a version made
by a very wise divine, a very good man,
and approved by the
Church."
"Madam," the Earl of Kent returned, "your Grace stopped at what
you were
taught in your youth, without inquiry as to whether it was good or
bad:
it is not surprising, then, that you have remained in your error,
for
want of having heard anyone who could make known the truth to you;
this
is why, as your Grace has but a few hours longer to remain in
this
world, and consequently has no time to lose, with your permission
we
shall send for the Dean of Peterborough, the most learned man there
is
on the subject of religion, who, with his word, will prepare you
for
your salvation, which you risk to our great grief and that of our
august
queen, by all the papistical follies, abominations, and
childish
nonsense which keep Catholics away from the holy word of God and
the
knowledge of the truth."
"You mistake, my lord," replied the queen
gently, "if you have believed
that I have grown up careless in the faith of
my fathers, and without
seriously occupying myself with a matter so important
as religion. I
have, on the contrary, spent my life with learned and wise men
who
taught me what one must learn on this subject, and I have
sustained
myself by reading their works, since the means of hearing them has
been
taken from me. Besides, never having doubted in my lifetime, doubt
is
not likely to seize me in my death-hour. And there is the Earl
of
Shrewsbury, here present, who will tell you that, since my arrival
in
England, I have, for an entire Lent, of which I repent, heard
your
wisest doctors, without their arguments having made any impression on
my
mind. It will be useless, then, my lord," she added, smiling, "to
summon
to one so hardened as I the Dean of Peterborough, learned as he is.
The
only thing I ask you in exchange, my lord, and for which I shall
be
grateful to you beyond expression, is that you will send me my
almoner,
whom you keep shut up in this house, to console me and prepare me
for
death, or, in his stead, another priest, be he who he may; if only
a
poor priest from a poor village, I being no harder to please than
God,
and not asking that he have knowledge, provided that he has
faith."
"It is with regret, madam," replied the Earl of Kent, "that I
find
myself obliged to refuse your Grace’s, request; but it would be
contrary
to our religion and our conscience, and we should be culpable in
doing
it; this is why we again offer you the venerable Dean of
Peterborough,
certain that your Grace will find more consolation and content
in him
than in any bishop, priest, or vicar of the Catholic
faith."
"Thank you, my lord," said the queen again, "but I have nothing
to-do
with him, and as I have a conscience free of the crime for which I
am
about to die, with God’s help, martyrdom will take the place
of
confession for me. And now, I will remind you, my lord, of what you
told
me yourself, that I have but a few hours to live; and these few
hours,
to profit me, should be passed in prayer and meditation, and not in
idle
disputes."
With these words, she rose, and, bowing to the earls,
Sir Robert Beale,
Amyas, and Drury, she indictated, by a gesture full of
dignity, that she
wished to be alone and in peace; then, as they prepared to
go out—
"Apropos, my lords," said she, "for what o’clock should I make
ready to
die?"
"For eight o’clock to-morrow, madam," answered the Earl
of Shrewsbury,
stammering.
"It is well," said Mary; "but have you not
some reply to make me, from
my sister Elizabeth, relative to a letter which I
wrote to her about a
month ago?"
"And of what did this letter treat,
if it please you, madam?" asked the
Earl of Kent.
"Of my burial and my
funeral ceremony, my lord: I asked to be interred
in France, in the cathedral
church of Rheims, near the late queen my
mother."
"That may not be,
madam," replied the Earl of Kent; "but do not trouble
yourself as to all
these details: the queen, my august mistress, will
provide for them as is
suitable. Has your grace anything else to ask
us?"
"I would also like
to know," said Mary, "if my servants will be allowed
to return, each to his
own country, with the little that I can give him;
which will hardly be
enough, in any case, for the long service they have
done me, and the long
imprisonment they have borne on my account."
"We have no instructions on
that head, madam," the Earl of Kent said,
"but we think that an order will be
given for this as for the other
things, in accordance with your wishes. Is
this all that your Grace has
to say to us?"
"Yes, my lord," replied
the queen, bowing a second time, "and now you
may withdraw."
"One
moment, my lords, in Heaven’s name, one moment!" cried the old
physician,
coming forward and throwing himself on his knees before the
two
earls.
"What do you want?" asked Lord Shrewsbury.
"To point out to
you, my lords," replied the aged Bourgoin, weeping,
"that you have granted
the queen but a very short time for such an
important matter as this of her
life. Reflect, my lords, what rank and
degree she whom you have condemned has
held among the princes of this
earth, and consider if it is well and seemly
to treat her as an ordinary
condemned person of middling estate. And if not
for the sake of this
noble queen, my lords, do this for the sake of us her
poor servants,
who, having had the honour of living near her so long, cannot
thus part
from her so quickly and without preparation. Besides, my lords,
think of
it, a woman of her state and position ought to have some time in
which
to set in order her last affairs. And what will become of her, and
of
us, if before dying, our mistress has not time to regulate her
jointure
and her accounts and to put in order her papers and her title-deeds?
She
has services to reward and offices of piety to perform. She should
not
neglect the one or the other. Besides, we know that she will
only
concern herself with us, and, through this, my lords, neglect her
own
salvation. Grant her, then, a few more days, my lords; and as
our
mistress is too proud to ask of you such a favour, I ask you in all
our
names, and implore you not to refuse to poor servants a request
which
your august queen would certainly not refuse them, if they had the
good
fortune to be able to lay it at her feet."
"Is it then true,
madam," Sir Robert Beale asked, "that you have not yet
made a
will?"
"I have not, sir," the queen answered.
"In that case, my
lords," said Sir Robert Beale, turning to the two
earls, "perhaps it would be
a good thing to put it off for a day or
two."
"Impossible, sir,"
replied the Earl of Shrewsbury: "the time is fixed,
and we cannot change
anything, even by a minute, now."
"Enough, Bourgoin, enough," said the
queen; "rise, I command you."
Bourgoin obeyed, and the Earl of
Shrewsbury, turning to Sir Amyas
Paulet, who was behind him—
"Sir
Amyas," said he, "we entrust this lady to your keeping: you will
charge
yourself with her, and keep her safe till our return."
With these words
he went out, followed by the Earl of Kent, Sir Robert
Beale, Amyas Paulet,
and Drury, and the queen remained alone with her
servants.
Then,
turning to her women with as serene a countenance as if the event
which had
just taken place was of little importance—
"Well, Jeanne," said she,
speaking to Kennedy, "have I not always told
you, and was I not right, that
at the bottom of their hearts they wanted
to do this? and did I not see
clearly through all their procedure the
end they had in view, and know well
enough that I was too great an
obstacle to their false religion to be allowed
to live? Come," continued
she, "hasten supper now, that I may put my affairs
in order". Then,
seeing that instead of obeying her, her servants were
weeping and
lamenting, "My children," said she, with a sad smile, but without
a tear
in her eye, "it is no time for weeping, quite the contrary; for if
you
love me, you ought to rejoice that the Lord, in making me die for
His
cause, relieves me from the torments I have endured for nineteen
years.
As for me, I thank Him for allowing me to die for the glory of His
faith
and His Church. Let each have patience, then, and while the men
prepare
supper, we women will pray to God."
The men immediately went
out, weeping and sobbing, and the queen and her
women fell on their knees.
When they had recited some prayers, Mary
rose, and sending for all the money
she had left, she counted it and
divided it into portions, which she put into
purses with the name of the
destined recipient, in her handwriting, with the
money.
At that moment, supper being served, she seated herself at table
with
her women as usual, the other servants standing or coming and going,
her
doctor waiting on her at table as he was accustomed since her
steward
had been taken from her. She ate no more nor less than usual,
speaking,
throughout supper, of the Earl of Kent, and of the way in which
he
betrayed himself with respect to religion, by his insisting on
wanting
to give the queen a pastor instead of a priest. "Happily," she
added,
laughing, "one more skilful than he was needed to change me".
Meanwhile
Bourgoin was weeping behind the queen, for he was thinking that he
was
serving her for the last time, and that she who was eating, talking,
and
laughing thus, next day at the same hour would be but a cold
and
insensible corpse.
When the meal was over, the queen sent for all
her servants; then;
before the table was cleared of anything, she poured out
a cup of wine,
rose and drank to their health, asking them if they would not
drink to
her salvation. Then she had a glass given to each one: all kneeled
down,
and all, says the account from which we borrow these details,
drank,
mingling their tears with the wine, and asking pardon of the queen
for
any wrongs they had done her. The queen granted it heartily, and
asked
them to do as much for her, and to forget her impatient ways, which
she
begged them to put down to her imprisonment. Then, having given them
a
long discourse, in which she explained to them their duties to God,
and
exhorted them to persevere in the Catholic faith, she begged them,
after
her death, to live together in peace and charity, forgetting all
the
petty quarrels and disputes which they had had among one another in
the
past.
This speech ended, the queen rose from table, and desired to
go into her
wardrobe-room, to see the clothes and jewels she wished to
dispose of;
but Bourgoin observed that it would be better to have all these
separate
objects brought into her chamber; that there would be a double
advantage
in this, she would be less tired for one thing, and the English
would
not see them for another. This last reason decided her, and while
the
servants were supping, she had brought into her ante-room, first of
all,
all her robes, and took the inventory from her wardrobe attendant,
and
began to write in the margin beside each item the name of the person
it
was to be given to. Directly, and as fast as she did it, that person
to
whom it was given took it and put it aside. As for the things which
were
too personal to her to be thus bestowed, she ordered that they should
be
sold, and that the purchase-money should be used for her
servants’
travelling expenses, when they returned to their own countries,
well
knowing how great the cost would be and that no one would
have
sufficient means. This memorandum finished, she signed it, and gave
it
as a discharge to her wardrobe attendant.
Then, that done, she went
into her room, where had been brought her
rings, her jewels, and her most
valuable belongings; inspected them all,
one after the other, down to the
very least; and distributed them as she
had done her robes, so that, present
or absent, everyone had something.
Then she furthermore gave, to her most
faithful people, the jewels she
intended for the king and queen of France,
for the king her son, for the
queen-mother, for Messieurs de Guise and de
Lorraine, without forgetting
in this distribution any prince or princess
among her relatives. She
desired, besides, that each should keep the things
then in his care,
giving her linen to the young lady who looked after it, her
silk
embroideries to her who took charge of them, her silver plate to her
butler, and so on with the rest. |
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