ELIZABETH.
{1586.} The dangers which arose from the character, principles, and
pretensions of the queen of Scots, had very early engaged Elizabeth to
consult, in her treatment of that unfortunate princess, the dictates
of jealousy and politics, rather than of friendship or generosity:
resentment of this usage had pushed Mary into enterprises which had
nearly threatened the repose and authority of Elizabeth: the rigor and
restraint thence redoubled upon the captive queen,[*] still impelled her
to attempt greater extremities; and while her impatience of confinement,
her revenge,[**] [20] and her high spirit concurred with religious zeal,
and the suggestions of desperate bigots, she was at last engaged in
designs which afforded her enemies, who watched the opportunity, a
pretence or reason for effecting her final ruin.
* Digges, p. 139. Haynes, p. 607.
** See note T. at the end of the volume.
The English seminary at Rheims had wrought themselves up to a high pitch
of rage and animosity against the queen. The recent persecutions from
which they had escaped; the new rigors which they knew awaited them in
the course of their missions; the liberty which for the present they
enjoyed of declaiming against that princess; and the contagion of that
religious fury which every where surrounded them in France; all these
causes had obliterated with them every maxim of common sense, and every
principle of morals or humanity. Intoxicated with admiration of the
divine power and infallibility of the pope, they revered his bull by
which he excommunicated and deposed the queen; and some of them had gone
to that height of extravagance as to assert, that that performance
had been immediately dictated by the Holy Ghost. The assassination
of heretical sovereigns, and of that princess in particular, was
represented as the most meritorious of all enterprises; and they taught,
that whoever perished in such pious attempts, enjoyed, without dispute,
the glorious and never-fading crown of martyrdom. By such doctrines,
they instigated John Savage, a man of desperate courage, who had served
some years in the Low Countries under the prince of Parma, to attempt
the life of Elizabeth; and this assassin, having made a vow to persevere
in his design, was sent over to England, and recommended to the
confidence of the more zealous Catholics.
About the same time, John Ballard, a priest of that seminary, had
returned to Paris from his mission in England and Scotland; and as he
had observed a spirit of mutiny and rebellion to be very prevalent
among the Catholic devotees in these countries, he had founded on that
disposition the project of dethroning Elizabeth, and of restoring by
force of arms the exercise of the ancient religion.[*] The situation
of affairs abroad seemed favorable to this enterprise; the pope, the
Spaniard, the duke of Guise, concurring in interests, had formed a
resolution to make some attempt against England: and Mendoza, the
Spanish ambassador at Paris, strongly encouraged Ballard to hope for
succors from these princes. Charles Paget alone, a zealous Catholic and
a devoted partisan of the queen of Scots, being well acquainted with the
prudence, vigor, and general popularity of Elizabeth, always maintained
that, so long as that princess was allowed to live, it was in vain to
expect any success from an enterprise upon England. Ballard, persuaded
of this truth, saw more clearly the necessity of executing the design
formed at Rheims; he came over to England in the disguise of a soldier,
and assumed the name of Captain Fortescue; and he bent his endeavors to
effect at once the project of an assassination, an insurrection, and an
invasion.[**]
* Murden’s State Papers, p. 517.
* Camden, p. 515
The first person to whom he addressed himself was Anthony Babington,
of Dethic, in the county of Derby. This young gentleman was of a good
family, possessed a plentiful fortune, had discovered an excellent
capacity, and was accomplished in literature beyond most of his years
or station. Being zealously devoted to the Catholic communion, he had
secretly made a journey to Paris some time before, and had fallen into
intimacy with Thomas Morgan, a bigoted fugitive from England, and with
the bishop of Glasgow, Mary’s ambassador at the court of France. By
continually extolling the amiable accomplishments and heroical virtues
of that princess, they impelled the sanguine and unguarded mind of young
Babington to make some attempt for her service; and they employed every
principle of ambition, gallantry, and religious zeal, to give him a
contempt of those dangers which attended any enterprise against the
vigilant government of Elizabeth. Finding him well disposed for their
purpose, they sent him back to England, and secretly, unknown to
himself, recommended him to the queen of Scots, as a person worth
engaging in her service. She wrote him a letter, full of friendship
and confidence; and Babington, ardent in his temper and zealous in his
principles, thought that these advances now bound him in honor to devote
himself entirely to the service of that unfortunate princess. During
some time, he had found means of conveying to her all her foreign
correspondence; but after she was put under the custody of Sir Amias
Paulet, and reduced to a more rigorous confinement, he experienced so
much difficulty and danger in rendering her this service, that he had
desisted from every attempt of that nature.
When Ballard began to open his intentions to Babington, he found his
zeal suspended, not extinguished: his former ardor revived on the
mention of any enterprise which seemed to promise success in the cause
of Mary and of the Catholic religion. He had entertained sentiments
conformable to those of Paget, and represented the folly of all attempts
which, during the lifetime of Elizabeth, could be formed against the
established religion and government of England. Ballard, encouraged
by this hint, proceeded to discover to him the design undertaken by
Savage;[*] and was well pleased to observe that, instead of being
shocked with the project, Babington only thought it not secure enough,
when intrusted to one single hand, and proposed to join five others with
Savage in this desperate enterprise.
* Camden, p. 515. State Trials, p. 114.
In prosecution of these views, Babington employed himself in increasing
the number of his associates; and he secretly drew into the conspiracy
many Catholic gentlemen, discontented with the present government.
Barnwell, of a noble family in Ireland, Charnoc, a gentleman of
Lancashire, and Abington, whose father had been cofferer to the
household readily undertook the assassination of the queen. Charles
Tilney, the heir of an ancient family, and Titchborne of Southampton,
when the design was proposed to them, expressed some scruples, which
were removed by the arguments of Babington and Ballard. Savage alone
refused, during some time, to share the glory of the enterprise with
any others;[*] he challenged the whole to himself; and it was with some
difficulty he was induced to depart from this preposterous ambition.
* State Trials, vol. i. p. 111.
The deliverance of the queen of Scots, at the very same instant when
Elizabeth should be assassinated, was requisite for effecting the
purpose of the conspirators; and Babington undertook, with a party of a
hundred horse, to attack her guards while she should be taking the air
on horseback. In this enterprise, he engaged Edward Windsor, brother to
the lord of that name, Thomas Salisbury, Robert Gage, John Travers, John
Jones, and Henry Donne; most of them men of family and interest. The
conspirators much wanted, but could not find, any nobleman of note whom
they might place at the head of the enterprise; but they trusted that
the great events, of the queen’s death and Mary’s deliverance, would
rouse all the zealous Catholics to arms; and that foreign forces, taking
advantage of the general confusion, would easily fix the queen of Scots
on the throne, and reestablish the ancient religion.
These desperate projects had not escaped the vigilance of Elizabeth’s
council, particularly of Walsingham, secretary of state. That artful
minister had engaged Maud, a Catholic priest, whom he retained in pay,
to attend Ballard in his journey to France, and had thereby got a hint
of the designs entertained by the fugitives. Polly, another of his
spies, had found means to insinuate himself among the conspirators in
England; and, though not entirely trusted, had obtained some insight
into their dangerous secrets. But the bottom of the conspiracy was
never fully known, till Gifford, a seminary priest, came over and made a
tender of his services to Walsingham. By his means, the discovery became
of the utmost importance, and involved the fate of Mary, as well as of
those zealous partisans of that princess.
Babington and his associates, having laid such a plan as, they thought,
promised infallible success, were impatient to communicate the design to
the queen of Scots, and to obtain her approbation and concurrence.
For this service they employed Gifford, who immediately applied to
Walsingham, that the interest of that minister might forward his secret
correspondence with Mary. Walsingham proposed the matter to Paulet, and
desired him to connive at Gifford’s corrupting one of his servants; but
Paulet, averse to the introducing of such a pernicious precedent
into his family, desired that they would rather think of some other
expedient. Gifford found a brewer, who supplied the family with ale;
and bribed him to convey letters to the captive queen. The letters,
by Paulet’s connivance, were thrust through a chink in the wall; and
answers were returned by the same conveyance.
Ballard and Babington were at first diffident of Gifford’s fidelity;
and to make trial of him, they gave him only blank papers made up like
letters; but finding by the answers that these had been faithfully
delivered, they laid aside all further scruple, and conveyed by his
hands the most criminal and dangerous parts of their conspiracy.
Babington informed Mary of the design laid for a foreign invasion, the
plan of an insurrection at home, the scheme for her deliverance, and the
conspiracy for assassinating the usurper, by six noble gentlemen, as he
termed them, all of them his private friends; who, from the zeal
which they bore to the Catholic cause and her majesty’s service, would
undertake the “tragical execution.” Mary replied, that she approved
highly of the design; that the gentlemen might expect all the rewards
which it should ever be in her power to confer; and that the death of
Elizabeth was a necessary circumstance, before any attempts were made,
either for her own deliverance or an insurrection.[*]
* State Trials, vol. i. p 135. Camden, p. 515.
These letters, with others to Mendoza, Charles Paget, the archbishop
of Glasgow, and Sir Francis Inglefield, were carried by Gifford to
Secretary Walsingham; were deciphered by the art of Philips, his clerk;
and copies taken of them. Walsingham employed another artifice, in order
to obtain full insight into the plot: he subjoined to a letter of Mary’s
a postscript in the same cipher; in which he made her desire Babington
to inform her of the names of the conspirators. The indiscretion of
Babington furnished Walsingham with still another means of detection,
as well as of defence. That gentlemen had caused a picture to be drawn,
where he himself was represented standing amidst the six assassins; and
a motto was subjoined, expressing that their common perils were the band
of their confederacy. A copy of this picture was brought to Elizabeth,
that she might know the assassins, and guard herself against their
approach to her person.
Meanwhile Babington, anxious to insure and hasten the foreign succors,
resolved to despatch Ballard into France; and he procured for him, under
a feigned name, a license to travel. In order to remove from himself
all suspicion, he applied to Walsingharn, pretended great zeal for the
queen’s service, offered to go abroad, and professed his intentions of
employing the confidence which he had gained among the Catholics, to the
detection and disappointment of their conspiracies. Walsingham commended
his loyal purposes; and promising his own counsel and assistance in
the execution of them, still fed him with hopes, and maintained a close
correspondence with him. A warrant, meanwhile, was issued for seizing
Ballard; and this incident, joined to the consciousness of guilt, begat
in all the conspirators the utmost anxiety and concern. Some advised
that they should immediately make their escape; others proposed that
Savage and Charnoc should without delay execute their purpose against
Elizabeth; and Babington, in prosecution of this scheme, furnished
Savage with money, that he might buy good clothes, and thereby have more
easy access to the queen’s person. Next day, they began to apprehend
that they had taken the alarm too hastily; and Babington, having
renewed his correspondence with Walsingham, was persuaded by that subtle
minister, that the seizure of Ballard had proceeded entirely from the
usual diligence of informers in the detection of popish and seminary
priests. He even consented to take lodgings secretly in Walsingham’s
house, that they might have more frequent conferences together before
his intended departure for France; but observing that he was watched
and guarded, he made his escape, and gave the alarm to the other
conspirators. They all took to flight, covered themselves with several
disguises, and lay concealed in woods or barns; but were soon discovered
and thrown into prison. In their examinations they contradicted each
other, and the leaders were obliged to make a full confession of the
truth. Fourteen were condemned and executed, of whom seven, acknowledged
the crime on their trial; the rest were convicted by evidence.
The lesser conspirators being despatched, measures were taken for the
trial and conviction of the queen of Scots; on whose account, and with
whose concurrence, these attempts had been made against the life of
the queen, and the tranquillity of the kingdom. Some of Elizabeth’s
counsellors were averse to this procedure, and thought that the close
confinement of a woman who was become very sickly, and who would
probably put a speedy period to their anxiety by her natural death,
might give sufficient security to the government without attempting
a measure of which there scarcely remains any example in history.
Leicester advised that Mary should be secretly despatched by poison;
and he sent a divine to convince Walsingham of the lawfulness of
that action: but Walsingham declared his abhorrence of it; and still
insisted, in conjunction with the majority of the counsellors, for the
open trial of the queen of Scots. The situation of England, and of the
English ministers, had, indeed, been hitherto not a little dangerous. No
successor of the crown was declared; but the heir of blood, to whom the
people in general were likely to adhere, was, by education, an enemy to
the national religion; was, from multiplied provocations, an enemy to
the ministers and principal nobility; and their personal safety, as well
as the safety of the public, seemed to depend alone on the queen’s
life, who was now somewhat advanced in years. No wonder, therefore, that
Elizabeth’s counsellors, knowing themselves to be so obnoxious to the
queen of Scots, endeavored to push every measure to extremities against
her; and were even more anxious than the queen herself, to prevent her
from ever mounting the throne of England.
Though all England was acquainted with the detection of Babington’s
conspiracy, every avenue to the queen of Scots had been so strictly
guarded, that she remained in utter ignorance of the matter; and it was
a great surprise to her, when Sir Thomas Gorges, by Elizabeth’s orders,
informed her, that all her accomplices were discovered and arrested. He
chose the time for giving her this intelligence when she was mounted on
horseback to go a hunting; and she was not permitted to return to her
former place of abode, but war conducted from one gentleman’s house to
another, till she was lodged in Fotheringay Castle, in the County of
Northampton, which it was determined to make the last stage of her trial
and sufferings. Her two secretaries, Nau, a Frenchman, and Curle, a
Scot, were immediately arrested: all her papers were seized, and sent up
to the council: above sixty different keys to ciphers were discovered:
there were also found many letters from persons beyond sea, and
several too from English noblemen containing expressions of respect and
attachment. The queen took no notice of this latter discovery; but the
persons themselves, knowing their correspondence to be detected, though
that they had no other means of making atonement for their imprudence,
than by declaring themselves thenceforth the most inveterate enemies of
the queen of Scots.[*]
* Camden, p. 518.
It was resolved to try Mary, not by the common statute of treasons, but
by the act which had passed the former year with a view to this very
event; and the queen, in terms of that act, appointed a commission,
consisting of forty noblemen and privy counsellors, and empowered them
to examine and pass sentence on Mary, whom she denominated the late
queen of Scots, and heir to James V. of Scotland. The commissioners came
to Fotheringay Castle, and sent to her Sir Walter Mildmay, Sir Amias
Paulet, and Edward Barker, who delivered her a letter from Elizabeth,
informing her of the commission, and of the approaching trial. Mary
received the intelligence without emotion or astonishment. She said,
however, that it seemed strange to her, that the queen should command
her, as a subject, to submit to a trial and examination before subjects;
that she was an absolute, independent princess, and would yield to
nothing which might derogate either from her royal majesty, from the
state of sovereign princes, or from the dignity and rank of her son:
that, however oppressed by misfortunes, she was not yet so much broken
in spirit as her enemies flattered themselves; nor would she, on any
account, be accessary to her own degradation and dishonor: that she was
ignorant of the laws and statutes of England; was utterly destitute
of counsel; and could not conceive who were entitled to be called her
peers, or could legally sit as judges on her trial: that though she had
lived in England for many years, she had lived in captivity; and not
having received the protection of the laws, she could not, merely by
her involuntary residence in the country, be supposed to have subjected
herself to their jurisdiction: that, notwithstanding the superiority of
her rank, she was willing to give an account of her conduct before an
English parliament; but could not view these commissioners in any
other light than as men appointed to justify, by some color of legal
proceeding, her condemnation and execution: and that she warned them
to look to their conscience and their character in trying an innocent
person; and to reflect, that these transactions would somewhere be
subject to revisal, and that the theatre of the whole world was much
wider than the kingdom of England.
In return, the commissioners sent a new deputation, informing her, that
her plea, either from her royal dignity or from her imprisonment, could
not be admitted; and that they were empowered to proceed to her trial,
even though she should refuse to answer before them. Burleigh, the
treasurer, and Bromley, the chancellor, employed much reasoning to make
her submit; but the person whose arguments had the chief influence,
was Sir Christopher Hatton, vice-chamberlain. His speech was to this
purpose: “You are accused, madam,” said he, “but not condemned, of
having conspired the destruction of our lady and queen anointed. You say
you are a queen; but, in such a crime as this, and such a situation as
yours, the royal dignity itself, neither by the civil or canon law, nor
by the law of nature or of nations, is exempt from judgment. If you be
innocent, you wrong your reputation in avoiding a trial. We have been
present at your protestations of innocence; but Queen Elizabeth thinks
otherwise, and is heartily sorry for the appearances which lie against
you. To examine, therefore, your cause, she has appointed commissioners;
honorable persons, prudent and upright men, who are ready to hear you
with equity, and even with favor, and will rejoice if you can clear
yourself of the imputations which have been thrown upon you. Believe
me, madam, the queen herself will rejoice, who affirmed to me, at my
departure, that nothing which ever befell her had given her so much
uneasiness, as that you should be suspected of a concurrence in these
criminal enterprises. Laying aside, therefore, the fruitless claim of
privilege from your royal dignity, which can now avail you nothing,
trust to the better defence of your innocence, make it appear in open
trial, and leave not upon your memory that stain of infamy which must
attend your obstinate silence on this occasion.” [*]
* Camden, p. 523.
By this artful speech, Mary was persuaded to answer before the court;
and thereby gave an appearance of legal procedure to the trial, and
prevented those difficulties which the commissioners must have fallen
into, had she persevered in maintaining so specious a plea as that of
her sovereign and independent character. Her conduct in this particular
must be regarded as the more imprudent; because formerly, when
Elizabeth’s commissioners pretended not to exercise any jurisdiction
over her, and only entered into her cause by her own consent and
approbation, she declined justifying herself, when her honor, which
ought to have been dearer to her than life, seemed absolutely to require
it.
On her first appearance before the commissioners, Mary, either sensible
of her imprudence, or still unwilling to degrade herself by submitting
to a trial, renewed her protestation against the authority of her
judges: the chancellor answered her, by pleading the supreme authority
of the English laws over every one who resided in England; and the
commissioners accommodated matters, by ordering both her protestation
and his answer to be recorded.
The lawyers of the crown then opened the charge against the queen
of Scots. They proved, by intercepted letters, that she had allowed
Cardinal Allen and others to treat her as queen of England; and that she
had kept a correspondence with Lord Paget and Charles Paget, in view of
engaging the Spaniards to invade the kingdom. Mary seemed not anxious to
clear herself from either of these imputations. She only said that she
could not hinder others from using what style they pleased in writing to
her; and that she might lawfully try every expedient for the recovery of
her liberty.
An intercepted letter of hers to Mendoza was next produced; in which she
promised to transfer to Philip her right to the kingdom of England, if
her son should refuse to be converted to the Catholic faith; an event,
she there said, of which there was no expectation while he remained in
the hands of his Scottish subjects.[*]
* State Trials, vol. i. p 138.
Even this part of the charge she took no pains to deny, or rather she
seemed to acknowledge it. She said that she had no kingdoms to dispose
of; yet was it lawful for her to give at her pleasure what was her own,
and she was not accountable to any for her actions. She added, that she
had formerly rejected that proposal from Spain; but now, since all
her hopes in England were gone, she was fully determined not to refuse
foreign assistance. There was also produced evidence to prove, that
Allen and Parsons were at that very time negotiating, by her orders, at
Rome, the conditions of transferring her English crown to the king of
Spain, and of disinheriting her heretical son.[*] [21]
It is remarkable, that Mary’s prejudices against her son were at this
time carried so far, that she had even entered into a conspiracy against
him, had appointed Lord Claud Hamilton regent of Scotland, and had
instigated her adherents to seize James’s person, and deliver him into
the hands of the pope, or the king of Spain; whence he was never to be
delivered, but on condition of his becoming Catholic.[**] [24]
The only part of the charge which Mary positively denied, was her
concurrence in the design of assassinating Elizabeth. This article,
indeed, was the most heavy, and the only one that could fully justify
the queen in proceeding to extremities against her. In order to prove
the accusation, there were produced the following evidence: copies taken
in Secretary Walsingham’s office of the intercepted letters between
her and Babington, in which her approbation of the murder was clearly
expressed; the evidence of her two secretaries, Nau and Curle, who had
confessed, without being put to any torture, both that she received
these letters from Babington, and that they had written the answers by
her order; the confession of Babington, that he had written the letters
and received the answers,[***] and the confession of Ballard and Savage,
that Babington had showed them these letters of Mary, written in the
cipher which had been settled between them.
* See note U, at the end of the volume.
** See note X, at the end of the volume.
*** State Trials, vol. i. p. 113.
It is evident, that this complication of evidence, though every
circumstance corroborates the general conclusion, resolves itself
finally into the testimony of the two secretaries, who alone were
certainly acquainted with their mistress’s concurrence in Babington’s
conspiracy, but who knew themselves exposed to all the rigors of
imprisonment, torture, and death, if they refused to give any evidence
which might be required of them. In the case of an ordinary criminal,
this proof, with all its disadvantages, would be esteemed legal, and
even satisfactory, if not opposed by some other circumstances which
shake the credit of the witnesses: but on the present trial, where
the absolute power of the prosecutor concurred with such important
interests, and such a violent inclination to have the princess
condemned, the testimony of two witnesses, even though men of character,
ought to be supported by strong probabilities, in order to remove all
suspicion of tyranny and injustice. The proof against Mary, it must be
confessed, is not destitute of this advantage; and it is difficult, if
not impossible, to account for Babington’s receiving an answer written
in her name, and in the cipher concerted between them, without allowing
that the matter had been communicated to that princess. Such is the
light in which this matter appears, even after time has discovered
every thing which could guide our judgment with regard to it: no
wonder, therefore, that the queen of Scots, unassisted by counsel,
and confounded by so extraordinary a trial, found herself incapable
of making a satisfactory defence before the commissioners. Her reply
consisted chiefly in her own denial: whatever force may be in that
denial was much weakened by her positively affirming, that she never had
had any correspondence of any kind with Babington; a fact, however, of
which there remains not the least question.[*] [25] She asserted, that
as Nau and Curle had taken an oath of secrecy and fidelity to her, their
evidence against her ought not to be credited. She confessed, however,
that Nau had been in the service of her uncle, the cardinal of Lorraine,
and had been recommended to her by the king of France, as a man in
whom she might safely confide. She also acknowledged Curle to be a very
honest man, but simple and easily imposed on by Nau. If these two
men had received any letters, or had written any answers, without her
knowledge, the imputation, she said, could never lie on her. And she was
the more inclined, she added, to entertain this suspicion against them,
because Nau had, in other instances, been guilty of a like temerity, and
had ventured to transact business in her name, without communicating the
matter to her.[**] [26]
* See note Y, at the end of the volume.
** See note Z, at the end cf the volume.
The sole circumstance of her defence which to us may appear to have some
force, was her requiring that Nau and Cure should be confronted with
her, and her affirming that they never would to her face persist
in their evidence. But that demand, however equitable, was not then
supported by law in trials of high treason, and was often refused, even
in other trials where the crown was prosecutor. The clause contained in
an act of the thirteenth of the queen, was a novelty; that the species
of treason there enumerated must be proved by two witnesses, confronted
with the criminal. But Mary was not tried upon that act; and the
ministers and crown lawyers of this reign were always sure to refuse
every indulgence beyond what the strict letter of the law, and the
settled practice of the courts of justice, required of them. Not to
mention, that these secretaries were not probably at Fotheringay Castle
during the time of the trial, and could not, upon Mary’s demand, be
produced before the commissioners.[*]
* Queen Elizabeth was willing to have allowed Curle and Nau
to be produced in the trial, and writes to that purpose to
Burleigh and Walsingham, in her letter of the seventh of
October, in Forbes’s MS collections. She only says, that she
thinks it needless, though she was willing to agree to it.
The not confronting of the witnesses was not the result of
design, but the practice of the age.
There passed two incidents in this trial which may be worth observing. A
letter between Mary and Babington was read, in which mention was made of
the earl of Arundel and his brothers: on hearing their names, she broke
into a sigh. “Alas,” said she, “what has the noble house of the Howards
suffered for my sake!” She affirmed, with regard to the same letter,
that it was easy to forge the handwriting and cipher of another; she was
afraid that this was too familiar a practice with Walsingham, who,
she also heard, had frequently practised both against her life and
her son’s. Walsingham, who was one of the commissioners, rose up. He
protested that, in his private capacity, he had never acted any thing
against the queen of Scots: in his public capacity, he owned, that
his concern for his sovereign’s safety had made him very diligent in
searching out, by every expedient, all designs against her sacred person
or her authority. For attaining that end, he would not only make use of
the assistance of Ballard or any other conspirator; he would also reward
them for betraying their companions. But if he had tampered in any
manner unbefitting his character and office, why did none of the
late criminals, either at their trial or execution accuse him of such
practices? Mary endeavored to pacify him, by saying that she spoke from
information; and she begged him to give thenceforth no more credit to
such as slandered her, than she should to such as accused him. The great
character, indeed, which Sir Francis Walsingham bears for probity and
honor, should remove from him all suspicion of such base arts as forgery
and subornation; arts which even the most corrupt ministers, in the most
corrupt times, would scruple to employ.
Having finished the trial, the commissioners, adjourned from Fotheringay
Castle, and met in the star chamber at London, where, after taking
the oaths of Mary’s two secretaries, who voluntarily, without hope or
reward, vouched the authenticity of those letters before produced, they
pronounced sentence of death upon the queen of Scots, and confirmed
it by their seals and subscriptions. The same day, a declaration was
published by the commissioners and the judges “that the sentence did
nowise derogate from the title and honor of James, king of Scotland; but
that he was in the same place, degree, and right, as if the sentence had
never been pronounced.”[*]
* Camden, p. 526.
The queen had now brought affairs with Mary to that situation which
she had long ardently desired; and had found a plausible reason for
executing vengeance on a competitor, whom, from the beginning of her
reign, she had ever equally dreaded and hated. But she was restrained
from instantly gratifying her resentment, by several important
considerations. She foresaw the invidious colors in which this example
of uncommon jurisdiction would be represented by the numerous partisans
of Mary, and the reproach to which she herself might be exposed with all
foreign princes, perhaps with all posterity. The rights of hospitality,
of kindred, and of royal majesty, seemed in one signal instance to be
all violated; and this sacrifice of generosity to interest, of clemency
to revenge, might appear equally unbecoming a sovereign and a woman.
Elizabeth, therefore, who was an excellent hypocrite, pretended the
utmost reluctance to proceed to the execution of the sentence; affected
the most tender sympathy with her prisoner; displayed all her scruples
and difficulties; rejected the solicitation of her courtiers and
ministers; and affirmed that, were she not moved by the deepest concern
for her people’s safety, she would not hesitate a moment in pardoning
all the injuries which she herself had received from the queen of Scots.
That the voice of her people might be more audibly heard in the demand
of justice upon Mary, she summoned a new parliament; and she knew, both
from the usual dispositions of that assembly, and from the influence
of her ministers over them, that she should not want the most earnest
solicitation to consent to that measure which was so agreeable to her
secret inclinations. She did not open this assembly in person, but
appointed for that purpose three commissioners, Bromley, the chancellor,
Burleigh, the treasurer, and the earl of Derby. The reason assigned
for this measure was, that the queen, foreseeing that the affair of the
queen of Scots would be canvassed in parliament, found her tenderness
and delicacy so much hurt by that melancholy incident, that she had not
the courage to be present while it was under deliberation, but withdrew
her eyes from what she could not behold without the utmost reluctance
and uneasiness. She was also willing, that, by this unusual precaution,
the people should see the danger to which her person was hourly exposed;
and should thence be more strongly incited to take vengeance on the
criminal, whose restless intrigues and bloody conspiracies had so long
exposed her to the most imminent perils.[*]
The parliament answered the queen’s expectations: the sentence against
Mary was unanimously ratified by both houses, and an application
was voted to obtain Elizabeth’s consent to its publication and
execution.[**] She gave an answer ambiguous, embarrassed; full of real
artifice, and seeming irresolution. She mentioned the extreme danger to
which her life was continually exposed; she declared her willingness to
die, did she not foresee the great calamities which would thence fall
upon the nation; she made professions of the greatest tenderness to
her people; she displayed the clemency of her temper, and expressed
her violent reluctance to execute the sentence against her unhappy
kinswoman; she affirmed, that the late law, by which that princess was
tried, so far from being made to insnare her, was only intended to give
her warning beforehand, not to engage in such attempts as might expose
her to the penalties with which she was thus openly menaced; and she
begged them to think once again, whether it were possible to find any
expedient, besides the death of the queen of Scots, for securing the
public tranquility.[***]
* D’Ewes, p. 375.
** D’Ewes, p. 379.
*** D’Ewes, p. 402, 403.
The parliament, in obedience to her commands, took the affair again
under consideration; but could find no other possible expedient. They
reiterated their solicitations, and entreaties, and arguments: they even
remonstrated, that mercy to the queen of Scots was cruelty to them, her
subjects and children: and they affirmed, that it were injustice to deny
execution of the law to any individual; much more to the whole body of
the people, now unanimously and earnestly suing for this pledge of her
parental care and tenderness. This second address set the pretended
doubts and scruples of Elizabeth anew in agitation; she complained
of her now unfortunate situation; expressed her uneasiness from their
importunity; renewed the professions of affection to her people; and
dismissed the committee of parliament in an uncertainty what, after all
this deliberation, might be her final resolution.[*] [27]
But though the queen affected reluctance to execute the sentence against
Mary, she complied with the request of parliament in publishing it by
proclamation; and this act seemed to be attended with the unanimous and
hearty rejoicings of the people. Lord Buckhurst, and Beale, clerk of
the council, were sent to the queen of Scots, and notified to her the
sentence pronounced against her, its ratification by parliament, and
the earnest applications made for its execution by that assembly, who
thought that their religion could never, while she was alive, attain
a full settlement and security. Mary was nowise dismayed at this
intelligence: on the contrary, she joyfully laid hold of the last
circumstance mentioned to her; and insisted, that since her death was
demanded by the Protestants for the establishment of their faith, she
was really a martyr to her religion, and was entitled to all the merits
attending that glorious character. She added, that the English had often
imbrued their hands in the blood of their sovereigns: no wonder they
exercised cruelty against her, who derived her descent from these
monarchs.[**] Paulet, her keeper, received orders to take down her
canopy, and to serve her no longer with the respect due to sovereign
princes. He told her, that she was now to be considered as a dead
person, and incapable of any dignity.[***] This harsh treatment produced
not in her any seeming emotion. She only replied, that she received her
royal character from the hands of the Almighty, and no earthly power was
ever able to bereave her of it.
* See note AA, at the end of the volume.
** Camden, p. 528.
*** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 293.
The queen of Scots wrote her last letter to Elizabeth; full of dignity,
without departing from that spirit of meekness and of charity which
appeared suitable to this concluding scene of her unfortunate life. She
preferred no petition for averting the fatal sentence: on the contrary
she expressed her gratitude to Heaven for thus bringing to a speedy
period her sad and lamentable pilgrimage. She requested some favors of
Elizabeth; and entreated her that she might be beholden for them to her
own goodness alone, without making applications to those ministers who
had discovered such an extreme malignity against her person and her
religion. She desired, that after her enemies should be satiated with
her innocent blood, her body, which it was determined should never
enjoy rest while her soul was united to it, might be consigned to her
servants, and be conveyed by them into France, there to repose in a
Catholic land, with the sacred relics of her mother. In Scotland, she
said, the sepulchres of her ancestors were violated, and the churches
either demolished or profaned; and in England, where she might be
interred among the ancient kings, her own and Elizabeth’s progenitors,
she could entertain no hopes of being accompanied to the grave with
those rites and ceremonies which her religion required. She requested,
that no one might have the power of inflicting a private death upon her,
without Elizabeth’s knowledge; but that her execution should be public,
and attended by her ancient servants, who might bear testimony of her
perseverance in the faith, and of her submission to the will of Heaven.
She begged that these servants might afterwards be allowed to depart
whithersoever they pleased, and might enjoy those legacies which she
should bequeath them. And she conjured her to grant these favors by
their near kindred; by the soul and memory of Henry VII., the common
ancestor of both; and by the royal dignity of which they equally
participated.[*] Elizabeth made no answer to this letter; being
unwilling to give Mary a refusal in her present situation, and
foreseeing inconveniencies from granting some of her requests.
* Camden p. 529. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 295.
While the queen of Scots thus prepared herself to meet her fate, great
efforts were made by foreign powers with Elizabeth to prevent the
execution of the sentence pronounced against her. Besides employing
L’Aubespine, the French resident at London, a creature of the house
of Guise, Henry sent over Bellièvre, with a professed intention of
interceding for the life of Mary. The duke of Guise and the league at
that time threatened very nearly the king’s authority; and Elizabeth
knew, that though that monarch might, from decency and policy, think
himself obliged to interpose publicly in behalf of the queen of Scots,
he could not secretly be much displeased with the death of a princess,
on whose fortune and elevation his mortal enemies had always founded
so many daring and ambitious projects.[*] It is even pretended, that
Bellievre had orders, after making public and vehement remonstrances
against the execution of Mary, to exhort privately the queen, in his
master’s name, not to defer an act of justice so necessary for their
common safety.[**] But whether the French king’s intercession were
sincere or not, it had no weight with the queen; and she still persisted
in her former resolution.
* Camden, p. 494.
** Du Maurier.
The interposition of the young king of Scots, though not able to change
Elizabeth’s determination, seemed on every account to merit more regard.
As soon as James heard of the trial and condemnation of his mother, he
sent Sir William Keith, a gentleman of his bed-chamber, to London; and
wrote a letter to the queen, in which he remonstrated in very severe
terms against the indignity of the procedure. He said, that he
was astonished to hear of the presumption of English noblemen and
counsellors, who had dared to sit in judgment and pass sentence upon a
queen of Scotland, descended from the blood royal of England; but he was
still more astonished to hear, that thoughts were seriously entertained
of putting that sentence in execution: that he entreated Elizabeth to
reflect on the dishonor which she would draw on her name by imbruing
her hands in the blood of her near kinswoman, a person of the same royal
dignity and of the same sex with herself: that, in this unparalleled
attempt, she offered an affront to all diadems, and even to her own; and
by reducing sovereigns to a level with other men, taught the people to
neglect all duty towards those whom Providence had appointed to rule
over them: that for his part, he must deem the injury and insult so
enormous, as to be incapable of all atonement; nor was it possible for
him thenceforward to remain in any terms of correspondence with a person
who, without any pretence of legal authority, had deliberately inflicted
an ignominious death upon his parent: and that, even if the sentiments
of nature and duty did not inspire him with this purpose of vengeance,
his honor required it of him; nor could he ever acquit himself in the
eyes of the world, if he did not use every effort, and endure every
hazard, to revenge so great an indignity.[*]
Soon after, James sent the master of Gray and Sir Robert Melvil to
enforce the remonstrances of Keith, and to employ with the queen every
expedient of argument and menaces. Elizabeth was at first offended with
the sharpness of these applications; and she replied in a like strain
to the Scottish ambassadors. When she afterwards reflected, that this
earnestness was no more than what duty required of James, she was
pacified; but still retained her resolution of executing the sentence
against Mary.[**] It is believed, that the master of Gray, gained by the
enemies of that princess, secretly gave his advice not to spare her, and
undertook, in all events, to pacify his master.
* Spotswood, p. 351.
** Spotswood, p. 353.
The queen also, from many considerations, was induced to pay small
attention to the applications of James, and to disregard all the efforts
which he could employ in behalf of his mother. She was well acquainted
with his character and interests, the factions which prevailed among
his people, and the inveterate hatred which the zealous Protestants,
particularly the preachers, bore to the queen of Scots. The present
incidents set these dispositions of the clergy in a full light. James,
observing the fixed purpose of Elizabeth, ordered prayers to be offered
up for Mary in all the churches; and knowing the captious humor of the
ecclesiastics, he took care that the form of the petition should be most
cautious, as well as humane and charitable: “That it might please God
to illuminate Mary with the light of his truth, and save her from the
apparent danger with which she was threatened.” But, excepting the
king’s own chaplains, and one clergyman more, all the preachers refused
to pollute their churches by prayers for a Papist, and would not so much
as prefer a petition for her conversion. James, unwilling or unable
to punish this disobedience, and desirous of giving the preachers an
opportunity of amending their fault, appointed a new day when prayers
should be said for his mother; and that he might at least secure himself
from any insult in his own presence, he desired the archbishop of St.
Andrews to officiate before him.
In order to disappoint this purpose, the clergy instigated one Couper,
a young man who had not yet received holy orders, to take possession of
the pulpit early in the morning, and to exclude the prelate. When the
king came to church, and saw the pulpit occupied by Couper, he called
to him from his seat, and told him, that the place was destined for
another; yet since he was there, if he would obey the charge given, and
remember the queen in his prayers, he might proceed to divine service.
The preacher replied, that he would do as the Spirit of God should
direct him. This answer sufficiently instructed James in his purpose;
and he commanded him to leave the pulpit. As Couper seemed not disposed
to obey, the captain of the guard went to pull him from his place;
upon which the young man cried aloud, that this day would be a witness
against the king in the great day of the Lord; and he denounced a woe
upon the inhabitants of Edinburgh for permitting him to be treated in
that manner.[*] The audience at first appeared desirous to take part
with him; but the sermon of the prelate brought them over to a more
dutiful and more humane disposition.
* Spotswood, p. 354.
Elizabeth, when solicited, either by James or by foreign princes, to
pardon the queen of Scots, seemed always determined to execute the
sentence against her: but when her ministers urged her to interpose
no more delays, her scruples and her hesitation returned; her humanity
could not allow her to embrace such violent and sanguinary measures; and
she was touched with compassion for the misfortunes, and with respect
for the dignity, of the unhappy prisoner. The courtiers, sensible that
they could do nothing more acceptable to her than to employ persuasion
on this head, failed not to enforce every motive for the punishment
of Mary, and to combat all the objections urged against this act of
justice. They said, that the treatment of that princess in England had
been, on her first reception, such as sound reason and policy required;
and if she had been governed by principles of equity, she would not have
refused willingly to acquiesce in it: that the obvious inconveniencies,
either of allowing her to retire into France, or of restoring her by
force to her throne, in opposition to the reformers and the English
party in Scotland, had obliged the queen to detain her in England, till
time should offer some opportunity of serving her, without danger to
the kingdom, or to the Protestant religion that her usage there had been
such as became her rank; her own servants, in considerable numbers, had
been permitted to attend her, exercise had been allowed her for health,
and all access of company for amusement; and these indulgences would,
in time, have been carried further, if by her subsequent conduct she had
appeared worthy of them: that after she had instigated the rebellion of
Northumberland, the conspiracy of Norfolk, the bull of excommunication
of Pope Pius, an invasion from Flanders; after she had seduced the
queen’s friends, and incited every enemy, foreign and domestic, against
her; it became necessary to treat her as a most dangerous rival, and
to render her confinement more strict and rigorous: that the queen,
notwithstanding these repeated provocations, had, in her favor, rejected
the importunity of her parliaments, and the advice of her sagest
ministers;[*] and was still, in hopes of her amendment, determined to
delay coming to the last extremities against her: that Mary, even in
this forlorn condition, retained so high and unconquerable a spirit,
that she acted as competitor to the crown, and allowed her partisans
every where, and in their very letters addressed to herself, to treat
her as queen of England: that she had carried her animosity so far as to
encourage, in repeated instances, the atrocious design of assassinating
the queen; and this crime was unquestionably proved upon her by her own
letters, by the evidence of her secretaries, and by the dying confession
of her accomplices; that she was but a titular queen, and at present
possessed nowhere any right of sovereignty; much less in England, where,
the moment she set foot in the kingdom, she voluntarily became subject
to the laws, and to Elizabeth, the only true sovereign; that even
allowing her to be still the queen’s equal in rank and dignity,
self-defence was permitted by a law of nature which could never
be abrogated: and every one, still more a queen, had sufficient
jurisdiction over an enemy, who, by open violence, and still more, who,
by secret treachery, threatened the utmost danger against her life; that
the general combination of the Catholics to exterminate the Protestants
was no longer a secret; and as the sole resource of the latter
persecuted sect lay in Elizabeth, so the chief hope which the former
entertained of final success consisted in the person and in the title
of the queen of Scots; that this very circumstance brought matters to
extremity between these princesses; and rendering the life of one the
death of the other, pointed out to Elizabeth the path which either
regard to self-preservation, or to the happiness of her people, should
direct her to pursue: and that necessity, more powerful than policy,
thus demanded of the queen that resolution which equity would authorize,
and which duty prescribed.[**]
* Digges, p. 276. Strype, vol. ii. p. 48, 135, 136, 139.
** Camden, p. 533.
{1587.} When Elizabeth thought that as many importunities had been
used, and as much delay interposed, as decency required, she at last
determined to carry the sentence into execution: but even in this final
resolution she could not proceed without displaying a new scene of
duplicity and artifice. In order to alarm the vulgar, rumors were
previously dispersed, that the Spanish fleet was arrived in Milford
Haven; that the Scots had made an irruption into England; that the duke
of Guise was landed in Sussex with a strong army; that the queen of
Scots was escaped from prison, and had raised an army; that the northern
counties had begun an insurrection; that there was a new conspiracy on
foot to assassinate the queen, and set the city of London on fire; nay,
that the queen was actually assassinated.[*] An attempt of this nature
was even imputed to L’Aubespine, the French ambassador; and that
minister was obliged to leave the kingdom. The queen, affecting to be
in terror and perplexity, was observed to sit much alone, pensive and
silent; and sometimes to mutter to herself half sentences, importing the
difficulty and distress to which she was reduced.[**]
* Camden, p. 533.
** Camden, p. 534.
She at last called Davison, a man of parts, but easy to be imposed on,
and who had lately for that very reason been made secretary, and she
ordered him privately to draw a warrant for the execution of the queen
of Scots; which, she afterwards said, she intended to keep by her, in
case any attempt should be made for the deliverance of that princess.
She signed the warrant; and then commanded Davison to carry it to the
chancellor, in order to have the great seal appended to it. Next day
she sent Killigrew to Davison, enjoining him to forbear, some time,
executing her former orders; and when Davison came and told her that
the warrant had already passed the great seal, she seemed to be
somewhat moved, and blamed him for his precipitation. Davison, being in
perplexity, acquainted the council with this whole transaction; and they
endeavored to persuade him to send off Beale with the warrant: if the
queen should be displeased, they promised to justify his conduct, and
to take on themselves the whole blame of this measure.[*] The secretary,
not sufficiently aware of their intention, complied with the advice; and
the warrant was despatched to the earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, and some
others, ordering them to see the sentence executed upon the queen of
Scots.
The two earls came to Fotheringay Castle, and being introduced to Mary,
informed her of their commission, and desired her to prepare for death
next morning at eight o’clock. She seemed nowise terrified, though
somewhat surprised, with the intelligence. She said with a cheerful,
and even a smiling countenance, that she did not think the queen, her
sister, would have consented to her death, or have executed the sentence
against a person not subject to the laws and jurisdiction of England.
“But as such is her will,” said she, “death, which puts an end to all my
miseries, shall be to me most welcome; nor can I esteem that soul
worthy the felicities of heaven, which cannot support the body under the
horrors of the last passage to these blissful mansions.”[**] She then
requested the two noblemen, that they would permit some of her servants,
and particularly her confessor, to attend her; but they told her, that
compliance with this last demand was contrary to their conscience; [***]
and that Dr. Fletcher, dean of Peterborough, a man of great learning,
should be present to instruct her in the principles of true religion.
Her refusal to have any conference with this divine inflamed the zeal of
the earl of Kent; and he bluntly told her, that her death would be the
life of their religion; as, on the contrary, her life would have been
the death of it. Mention being made of Babington, she constantly denied
his conspiracy to have been at all known to her; and the revenge of her
wrongs she resigned into the hands of the Almighty.
* It appears, by some letters published by Strype, vol. iii.
book ii c., that Elizabeth had not expressly communicated
her intention to any of her ministers, not even to Burleigh:
they were such experienced courtiers, that they knew they
could not gratify her more than by serving her without
waiting till she desired them.
** Camden, p. 534. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 301. MS. in the
Advocates Library, p. 2, from the Cott. Lib. Cal. c. 9.
*** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 302.
When the earls had left her, she ordered supper to be hastened, that
she might have the more leisure after it to finish the few affairs
which remained to her in this world, and to prepare for her passage to
another. It was necessary for her, she said, to take some sustenance,
lest a failure of her bodily strength should depress her spirits on the
morrow, and lest her behavior should thereby betray a weakness unworthy
of herself.[*] She supped sparingly, as her manner usually was; and
her wonted cheerfulness did not even desert her on this occasion. She
comforted her servants under the affliction which overwhelmed them,
and which was too violent for them to conceal it from her. Turning to
Burgoin, her physician, she asked him, whether he did not remark the
great and invincible force of truth. “They pretend,” said she, “that I
must die, because I conspired against their queen’s life: but the earl
of Kent avowed, that there was no other cause of my death, than
the apprehensions which, if I should live, they entertain for their
religion. My constancy in the faith is my real crime: the rest is only
a color, invented by interested and designing men.” Towards the end of
supper, she called in all her servants, and drank to them: they pledged
her, in order, on their knees; and craved her pardon for any past
neglect of their duty: she deigned, in return, to ask their pardon for
her offences towards them; and a plentiful effusion of tears attended
this last solemn farewell, and exchange of mutual forgiveness.[**]
* Jebb, vol. ii. p. 489.
** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 302, 626. Camden, p. 534.
Mary’s care of her servants was the sole remaining affair which employed
her concern. She perused her will, in which she had provided for them by
legacies: she ordered the inventory of her goods, clothes, and jewels
to be brought her: and she wrote down the names of those to whom she
bequeathed each particular: to some she distributed money with her own
hands; and she adapted the recompense to their different degrees of rank
and merit. She wrote also letters of recommendation for her servants to
the French king, and to her cousin the duke of Guise, whom she made the
chief executor of her testament. At her wonted time, she went to bed;
slept some hours; and, then rising, spent the rest of the night in
prayer. Having foreseen the difficulty of exercising the rites of her
religion, she had had the precaution to obtain a consecrated host from
the hands of Pope Pius; and she had reserved the use of it for this
last period of her life. By this expedient she supplied, as much as she
could, the want of a priest and confessor, who was refused her.[*]
* Jebb, vol. ii. p, 489.
Towards the morning, she dressed herself in a rich habit of silk and
velvet, the only one which she had reserved to herself. She told her
maids, that she would willingly have left them this dress, rather than
the plain garb which she wore the day before: but it was necessary for
her to appear at the ensuing solemnity in a decent habit.
Thomas Andrews, sheriff of the county, entered the room, and informed
her that the hour was come, and that he must attend her to the place
of execution. She replied, that she was ready; and bidding adieu to her
servants, she leaned on two of Sir Amias Paulet’s guards, because of an
infirmity in her limbs; and she followed the sheriff with a serene
and composed countenance. In passing through a hall adjoining to her
chamber, she was met by the earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, Sir Amias
Paulet, Sir Drue Drury, and many other gentlemen of distinction. Here
she also found Sir Andrew Melvil, her steward, who flung himself on
his knees before her; and wringing his hands, cried aloud, “Ah, madam!
unhappy me! what man was ever before the messenger of such heavy tidings
as I must carry, when I shall return to my native country, and shall
report, that I saw my gracious queen and mistress beheaded in England?”
His tears prevented further speech; and Mary too felt herself moved,
more from sympathy than affliction. “Cease, my good servant,” said she,
“cease to lament: thou hast cause rather to rejoice than to mourn:
for now shalt thou see the troubles of Mary Stuart receive their
long-expected period and completion. Know,” continued she, “good
servant, that all the world at best is vanity, and subject still to more
sorrow than a whole ocean of tears is able to bewail. But I pray thee
carry this message from me, that I die a true woman to my religion, and
unalterable in my affections to Scotland and to France. Heaven forgive
them that have long desired my end, and have thirsted for my blood as
the hart panteth after the water brooks!” “O God,” added she, “thou art
the author of truth, and truth itself; thou knowest the inmost recesses
of my heart: thou knowest that I was ever desirous to preserve an entire
union between Scotland and England, and to obviate the source of all
these fatal discords. But recommend me, Melvil, to my son; and tell him,
that notwithstanding all my distresses, I have done nothing prejudicial
to the state and kingdom of Scotland.” After these words, reclining
herself, with weeping eyes, and face bedewed with tears, she kissed him.
“And so,” said she, “good Melvil, farewell: once again, farewell,
good Melvil; and grant the assistance of thy prayers to thy queen and
mistress.”[*]
* MS. p. 4. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 634. Strype, vol iii. p. 384.
She next turned to the noblemen, who attended her, and made a petition
in behalf of her servants, that they might be well treated, be allowed
to enjoy the presents which she had made them, and be sent safely into
their own country. Having received a favorable answer, she preferred
another request, that they might be permitted to attend her at her
death; “in order,” said she, “that their eyes may behold, and their
hearts bear witness, how patiently their queen and mistress can submit
to her execution, and how constantly she perseveres in her attachment to
her religion.” The earl of Kent opposed this desire, and told her that
they would be apt, by their speeches and cries, to disturb both herself
and the spectators: he was also apprehensive lest they should practise
some superstition, not meet for him to suffer; such as dipping their
handkerchiefs in her blood: for that was the instance which he made use
of. “My lord,” said the queen of Scots, “I will give my word (although
it be but dead) that they shall not incur any blame in any of the
actions which you have named. But alas! poor souls! it would be a great
consolation to them to bid their mistress farewell. And I hope,” added
she, “that your mistress, being a maiden queen, would vouchsafe, in
regard of womanhood, that I should have some of my own people about me
at my death. I know that her majesty hath not given you any such strict
command, but that you might grant me a request of far greater courtesy,
even though I were a woman of inferior rank to that which I bear.”
Finding that the earl of Kent persisted still in his refusal, her mind,
which had fortified itself against the terrors of death, was affected
by this indignity, for which she was not prepared. “I am cousin to your
queen,” cried she, “and descended from the blood royal of Henry VII.,
and a married queen of France, and an anointed queen of Scotland.” The
commissioners, perceiving how invidious their obstinacy would appear,
conferred a little together, and agreed that she might carry a few of
her servants along with her. She made choice of four men and two maid
servants for that purpose.
She then passed into another hall, where was erected the scaffold,
covered with black; and she saw, with an undismayed countenance, the
executioners and all the preparations of death. The room was crowded
with spectators; and no one was so steeled against all sentiments of
humanity, as not to be moved, when he reflected on her royal dignity,
considered the surprising train of her misfortunes, beheld her mild but
inflexible constancy, recalled her amiable accomplishments, or surveyed
her beauties, which, though faded by years, and yet more by her
afflictions, still discovered themselves in this fatal moment. Here the
warrant for her execution was read to her; and during this ceremony she
was silent, but showed, in her behavior, an indifference and unconcern,
as if the business had nowise regarded her. Before the executioners
performed their office, the dean of Peterborough stepped forth; and
though the queen frequently told him that he needed not concern himself
about her, that she was settled in the ancient Catholic and Roman
religion, and that she meant to lay down her life in defence of that
faith, he still thought it his duty to persist in his lectures and
exhortations, and to endeavor her conversion. The terms which he
employed were, under color of pious instructions, cruel insults on her
unfortunate situation; and besides their own absurdity, may be regarded
as the most mortifying indignities to which she had ever yet been
exposed. He told her, that the queen of England had on this occasion
shown a tender care of her; and notwithstanding the punishment justly to
be inflicted on her, for her manifold trespasses, was determined to use
every expedient for saving her soul from that destruction with which it
was so nearly threatened: that she was now standing upon the brink of
eternity, and had no other means of escaping endless perdition, than by
repenting her former wickedness, by justifying the sentence pronounced
against her, by acknowledging the queen’s favors, and by exerting a true
and lively faith in Christ Jesus: that the Scriptures were the only rule
of doctrine, the merits of Christ the only means of salvation; and if
she trusted in the inventions or devices of men, she must expect in an
instant to fall into utter darkness, into a place where shall be weeping
howling, and gnashing of teeth: that the and of death was upon her, the
axe was laid to the root of the tree, the throne of the great Judge
of heaven was erected, the book of her life was spread wide, and the
particular sentence and judgment was ready to be pronounced upon her:
and that it was now, during this important moment, in her choice, either
to rise to the resurrection of life, and hear that joyful salutation,
“Come, ye blessed of my Father,” or to share the resurrection of
condemnation, replete with sorrow and anguish; and to suffer that
dreadful denunciation, “Go, ye cursed, into everlasting fire.”[*]