THE LAST DAY ON EARTH
"On Tuesday the 7th of February several persons arrived, among
whom it is supposed was the sheriff, who all dined with Sir Amyas.
After dinner came the Comte de Kent, and last of all Monsieur de
Sheresburg, at whose arrival we were all dismayed and in great
fear, having for the last three days imagined many coming evils for
Her Majesty, who herself felt convinced that the blow was about to
fall."[107]
[Footnote 107: Walsingham wrote to Paulet to this effect: "This will
be brought by Beale along with the commission for the execution
of your charge. R.B. cannot well arrive before Monday at 10
A.M. It is thought well that the two Earls should in some
place meet unto you and have some conference touching the form of the
exc'n. You may do well to think of some convenient place for the
purpose. I send you a letter to the sheriff from my lords unsealed,
to the end you may see what colour is used for his employment."
Walsingham's Memorial, see Appendix, p. 266.]
Bourgoing's simple words need no comment. It is easy to realise the
suspense and anxiety experienced during these days by Mary's faithful
servants. Bourgoing thus continues: "They sent to ask to speak with
Her Majesty, who replied that she was in bed, but that if the matter
were pressing she begged for a little time to get up. Receiving for
answer that the matter was of consequence, Her Majesty prepared to
receive them in her chamber seated in her chair at the foot of her
bed. When the two said Counts, together with Mr. Beale, Mr. Paulet,
and Sir Drue Drury, were come, all of whom remained uncovered while
conversing with Her Majesty,[108] the Comte de Sheresburg commenced
to say that the Queen of England had sent them to her in her own
name and that of the state, to make known to her that after having
proceeded as she knew honourably and as was expedient for the affair
of which she was accused, found guilty, and therefore condemned,
as she knew and had been made aware of, on the part of the Queen,
she must now hear her sentence read, which he and le Comte de Kent,
together with Mr. Beale, were appointed to carry out according to
the Queen's intention; and thereupon the said Beale began to read
a document on parchment, to which was appended the great seal of
England in yellow wax, in which Her Majesty was named Mary Stuart,
daughter of James V., otherwise called Queen of Scotland, Dowager of
France."[109]
[Footnote 108: _La Mort de la Royne_, _ap._ Jebb, ii. 612.]
[Footnote 109: According to M. Kervyn de Lettenhove (_Marie Stuart_,
ii. 329) Shrewsbury expressed himself with more sympathy, and with a
return of his former friendliness for the Queen. "Madame," said he,
"I would have greatly desired that another than I should announce to
you such sad intelligence as that which I now bring on the part of
the Queen of England, but he and I being both faithful servants, I
could but obey the commandment she gave me. It is to admonish you to
prepare yourself to undergo the sentence of death pronounced against
you."]
Other writers give us a few more details which here supplement
Bourgoing's narrative.[110] The Queen seems to have received the
commissioners surrounded by her whole household, among whom her
physician is specially mentioned. We are also told that Shrewsbury
informed her that his royal mistress had delayed the execution of
the sentence as long as she was able, till at last, being pressed
on all sides, she had been obliged to cede to the importunities of
her subjects. Mary listened to the warrant with her usual calmness
and dignity.[111] "When it was finished, Her Majesty, with great
constancy and without emotion, replied:--
'I thank you for such welcome news. You will do me a great good
in withdrawing me from this world, out of which I am very glad to
go, on account of the miseries I see in it, and of being myself in
continual affliction. I am of no good and of no use to any one.
I have long looked for this, and have expected it day by day for
eighteen years. Unworthy though I think myself, I am by the grace
of God a queen born and a queen anointed, a near relative of the
Queen (of England), granddaughter of King Henry VII., and I have
had the honour to be Queen of France, but in all my life I have had
only sorrow. I am very happy that it pleases God by your means to
free me from so many evils and afflictions. I am quite ready and
very happy to die, and to shed my blood for Almighty God, my Saviour
and my Creator, and for the Catholic Church, and to maintain its
rights in this country, for the welfare of which I have always done
everything that has been possible, loving the Queen, my good sister,
and this island as dearly as myself, as I have often shown. I have
constantly offered to arrange matters peacefully and to bring things
to a happy issue, but have always been rejected and put aside. I
have been held a prisoner without having merited it, for I came into
this country of my own free will in hope of succour, according to
the promise of the Queen. We should have agreed very well, and would
together have arranged matters so well as to satisfy every one if
I had at once been permitted to speak to her.' Mary continued to
speak on this capital point, her unjust imprisonment for eighteen
years, in violation of all laws human and divine, as also of all the
humiliation and sorrow it had brought upon her; and then, placing her
hand on an English New Testament which lay on the table by her, she
protested on oath that she was innocent of the crime imputed to her.
'I have never,' she said most solemnly, 'either desired the death of
the Queen, or endeavoured to bring it about, or that of any other
person.' The Earl of Kent objected that it was a Catholic Bible, the
Pope's version, and that therefore the oath was of no avail. 'This
is the translation approved by the Church,' replied Mary, 'and if
I swear on the book which I believe to be the true version, will
not your lordship believe my oath more than if I were to swear on a
translation in which I do not believe?'"
[Footnote 110: Chantelauze, p. 572; _La Mort_, p. 613, where the
document is given at length.]
[Footnote 111: "She seemed not to be in any Terror, for ought that
appered by any of hir outward Gesture or Behaviour (other than
marvelling shee should die), but rather with smiling Cheer and
pleasing Countenance digested and accepted the sayde Admonition of
Preparation to hir (as she sayde) unexpected Execution: saying that
hir Death should be welcome unto hir, seeing hir Majestie was so
resolved, and that that Soule were too too far unworthye the Fruition
of the Joyes of Heaven for ever, whose Bodye would not in this World
be content to endure the Stroake of the Executioner for a Moment. And
that spoken, shee wept bitterlye and became silent."--"Execution of
Mary Queen of Scots," R. Wingfield, _Clarendon Hist. Soc._]
Kent now urged Mary to think of her soul, and, being so near death,
to confess her faults and embrace the "true religion." Here are
Bourgoing's words:--
"They offered her the Dean of Peterbourg, one of the most learned
in Europe, to comfort her, from whom she might learn regarding her
salvation and which was the true religion. She had, they said,
remained in that in which she had been instructed in her youth, and
for want of some one to show her the truth, and that now as she had
little time to live--only a few hours to remain in this world--she
must think of her conscience and recognise the true religion, and not
remain longer in these follies and abominations of popery. 'We have
the true Word of God,' said they, 'and you can make the comparison
when you have spoken to the minister, and then make your choice. We
speak in conscience and with the desire that you should be in good
case at the hour of death and be converted to God.' Her Majesty said,
'I have been for long sufficiently instructed in my religion. I know
well what I ought to know of it, for my salvation and the good of my
soul. I have not only heard, or read, the words of the most learned
men of the Catholic religion, but also of the Protestant religion. I
have spoken with them and heard them preach, but I have been unable
to find anything in them which could turn me from my first belief.
When I came to this country, being in the house of Monsieur de
Sheresburg, in order to satisfy every one, and to show that I acted
only by conscience, I listened to the most able Protestant preachers
for nearly the whole of one Lent, but at the end, finding no
edification, I withdrew.' This the Earl confirmed, adding that he had
invited her to return. Mary continued: 'Having lived till now in the
true faith, this is not the time to change, but, on the contrary, it
is the very moment when it is most needful that I should remain firm
and constant, as I intend to do. Rather than be unfaithful to it I
would wish to lose ten thousand lives, if I had as many, and, if it
were possible, shed all my blood several times over, and endure all
the most cruel torments you could threaten me with. No,' concluded
the Queen; 'for my consolation I beg you to let me see my own priest,
so that he may help me to prepare the better for death. I wish for no
other.'"
On this subject Elizabeth had given stringent orders to the
commissioners,[112] and the dying Queen's last request was cruelly
denied. "It is our duty," said the lords, "to prevent such
abominations which offend God," and they once more pressed her to see
the Dean.
[Footnote 112: M. Chantelauze, p. 387.]
"No," replied the Queen vehemently, "I will do no such thing. I
have nothing to do with him, and I neither wish to see him nor to
listen to him. Let no one take any more trouble to persuade me. I
see well that they would wish to destroy my soul together with my
body if they could, but they will not succeed. I hope that God will
have mercy upon me, as I have already prepared myself (for death).
He knows my heart, my will, my intentions, and what is my desire and
resolve. He will succour me and grant me pardon for my faults. It
surprises me that at the end, when I have most need of my priest,
they refuse him to me; I had asked to have him, especially to assist
me at my last end. The Queen of England had granted my request and
had allowed him to come to me; and since then they have taken him
from me and prevented him from coming at the most necessary time,--a
thing too cruel and inhuman, and unworthy of Englishmen."[113] The
commissioners again declared that it was against their conscience to
allow her to see her chaplain, and denied having known that he had
been previously permitted to return to Fotheringay.
[Footnote 113: Chantelauze, p. 573.]
In the midst of so much painful discussion, and under the trial of
being denied the only consolation she desired, Kent's next words
must have brought a great joy to Mary. She who had so often and
so ardently wished to shed her blood for her faith, was now to be
given good cause of thinking her desires were about to be fulfilled.
Kent told the Queen "that it had been decided that she could not
live without endangering the state, the life of the Queen, and the
religion. Your life," said he, "would be the death of our religion,
your death will be its life."[114]
[Footnote 114: _La Mort de la Royne_, p. 621; Chantelauze, p. 575.]
"I was far," exclaimed Mary, "from thinking myself worthy of such a
death, and I humbly receive it as a token of my admission among the
elect servants of God."[115] Mary begged to know whether the other
powers had interceded for her. She was told that they had done so,
but that not one of them could show a good reason why she should
not be put to death. She then spoke of her son, complaining of his
conduct to her, but she was told that he had done all that was in his
power, and that she ought to die in charity. "I forgive every one,"
replied Mary, "and accuse no one; but I may follow David's example
and pray God to confound and punish His enemies and those of His
divinity and religion, and pardon our enemies."
[Footnote 115: Miss Strickland, vii. 469; see Kervyn de Lettenhove,
ii. 333.]
The Queen asked when she was to die. "Tomorrow morning at eight
o'clock,"[116] replied Shrewsbury in faltering tones. Mary remarked
that the time was very short. She had been unable, she said, to
make her will for want of her papers and the account books of her
household. She again asked to be permitted to see her chaplain, and
to have her papers restored to her. Both requests were unavailing.
Her papers, she was told, were in Wade's hands, who was then in
France. The Queen then anxiously inquired what Queen Elizabeth had
decided regarding her place of burial, and whether she would permit
her body to lie beside her royal husband's in St. Denis, or at least
by her mother in the church of St. Peter at Rheims.
[Footnote 116: Jebb, _ibid._; Chantelauze, p. 575.]
The lords replied that their mistress would not allow her to be
buried in France. "At least then," continued Mary, "my requests in
favour of my servants will be granted?" They replied that they had no
instructions on this point, but that they saw nothing which should
prevent her attendants acting as she wished and having their goods.
The lords and their party now withdrew. As they were bowing farewell
to the Queen, she asked them what had become of Nau and Curle.
"We do not know," they replied.
"Is Nau dead?" said Mary.
"No," they answered; and Drury added, "He has not escaped; he still
drags his fetters."
"Her Majesty," says Bourgoing, "said that she was to die for him who
accused her, and who caused her to die to save himself."
The commissioners told her that she was under their guardianship, but
that from this moment they entrusted her to Sir Amyas's care, to be
delivered to them when they should come.
Mary's followers endeavoured to obtain a reprieve for their beloved
mistress. "The servants of Her Majesty with tears and cries declared
that the time was too short for her to put her affairs in order. It
was impossible that the night could be long enough; she was leaving
her servants destitute of all means. They begged the lords to have
pity on them, saying that it appeared that by the terms of their
commission they had power to have the execution when they wished, and
praying them to defer it for some few hours." Bourgoing, who appears
to have been the spokesman, addressing Lord Shrewsbury, reminded him
how he had cared for his lordship once when he was ill, and recalled
the sentiments of generous compassion which he had shown in other
days for the Queen when she was his prisoner.
Beale himself said that by the terms of the commission a delay might
be granted, but Lord Shrewsbury answered that "he had no power to
grant the smallest delay";[117] and having bowed to the Queen, he
retired with the other commissioners.
[Footnote 117: See Chantelauze, pp. 390, 391; _La Mort_, p. 625.]
When she was left alone with her sorrowful attendants, the Queen,
turning to them, said: "Well, Jane Kennedy, did I not tell you this
would happen? Did I not well know that they desired to do as they
have done? I saw well by those proceedings at what they aimed. I knew
they would never allow me to live; I was too great an obstacle to
their religion. Well, let supper be hastened, so that I may put my
affairs in order. My children," continued Mary, "it is now no time
to weep; that is useless; what do you now fear? You should rather
rejoice to see me on such a good road to being delivered from the
many evils and afflictions which have so long been my portion. I am
of no good in this world--I am of use to no one; you should rather,
like me, console yourselves that it has pleased God to give me this
grace,--that I die for so good a quarrel. I return thanks to Him,
and thank Him with a very good heart that it has pleased Him to call
me at this hour, and that He has given me such good occasion to
suffer death for His holy name, His true religion, and His Church.
No greater good could befall me in this world. You see--are you now
not witnesses?--why they put me to death. Consider why they sent Lord
Kent with his disputes and religious controversies. Have not they now
plainly shown their intention? Is it not notorious that they have
always feared that if I lived they would never be in safety regarding
their religion? Therefore," concluded Mary, "let each one be patient
and leave us here to pray to God."[118]
[Footnote 118: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Jebb, ii. 625.]
When all the men had left her room, the Queen spent some time in
prayer with her women. Then she set herself to count her money,
and after dividing it into several parts, put each amount into as
many little purses, with a paper on which the name of each of her
servants was written in her own hand.[119]
[Footnote 119: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Jebb, ii. 625.]
At supper, which had been hastened according to her order, she, as
usual, ate little. Her sorrowing attendants rivalled each other in
zeal to serve and wait upon her, listening eagerly to her slightest
word. Since Melville's departure, Bourgoing had taken his place
as steward. He now presented the dishes with one trembling hand,
furtively wiping away his tears with the other. Mary alone remained
perfectly calm. Sometimes she seemed absorbed in a profound reverie,
while a sweet smile animated her countenance, as if she had received
some joyful tidings; at others she conversed with her faithful
physician. "Did you remark, Bourgoing," said she, "what Lord Kent
said in his interview with me? He said that my life would have been
the death of their religion, and that my death will be its life. Oh,
how happy those words make me! Here at last is the truth. It has
declared itself in a striking manner, and I beg you to observe it.
They told me that I was to die because I had plotted against the
Queen, and here is Lord Kent sent to me to convert me, and what does
he tell me?--that I am to die on account of my religion. If he hoped
to make me embrace his faith," continued Mary with a smile, "he
has quite lost his time, and certainly to convince me it would have
required another sort of doctor than that one. For all the lives in
the world I would not change in one little thought."[120]
[Footnote 120: Chantelauze, p. 393.]
"When supper was over," says Bourgoing, "Her Majesty sent for all
her servants and exhorted them to mutual charity, and in a long
discourse took leave of them, forgiving them all, and begging them
to pray God for her. She admonished each separately, charging them
to live at peace with each other, and to give up all past enmities
or bitterness, and she showed in all this great proofs of wisdom,
understanding, and constancy."
As the end draws near, the faithful physician curtails his journal,
as if unable to describe more fully what it grieved him so deeply
to witness, but other authorities give us a fuller picture of
this affecting scene, which will serve to supplement this brief
description.[121]
[Footnote 121: Some of the facts of Bourgoing's narrative of the last
days were communicated by him to the anonymous author of the _Mort de
la Royne d'Escosse_, and to Blackwood. See Jebb, ii.]
At the close of supper, and when her attendants were all assembled
round her, the Queen drank to their welfare and asked them if they
would not drink to hers. They all threw themselves on their knees,
and mingling their tears with the wine, begged her forgiveness for
any faults they might have been guilty of.
"With all my heart, my children," she replied with a gentle smile,
"even as I pray you to forgive me any injustice or harshness of which
I may have been guilty towards you."
She reminded them of their duty to God, and exhorted them to remain
firm and constant in their faith, and to live together in good
friendship and charity as fellow-Christians, which she said would
now be easier, as Nau was no longer among them to sow discord. The
Queen repeated that Nau was the cause of her death, but that she
forgave him. Although she seems to have felt keenly Nau's apparent
ingratitude, and to have fully believed the reports of his conduct,
which appeared to be only too well founded,[122] Mary was not unjust
to him, as she declares expressly in her will that if Nau can be
proved innocent towards her, he is to have his pension.[123]
[Footnote 122: Chantelauze, p. 394.]
[Footnote 123: _La Mort de la Royne d'Escosse_, Jebb, ii. 625;
Blackwood, Jebb, ii. p. 302.]
Seated in an arm-chair, with an inventory in her hand, the Queen now
examined the contents of her wardrobe,[124] and distributed among her
attendants the garments and jewels and the small quantity of silver
plate and valuable furniture which had escaped the search at Chartley
and Queen Elizabeth's rapacity. She accompanied each gift with some
kind and gracious word, which enhanced its value tenfold. Mary also
charged her followers to take certain mementos from her to her son,
to the King and Queen of France, the King of Spain, Catherine of
Medici, her cousins of Lorraine, and other friends. No one, absent
or present, was forgotten.[125] When all was arranged, about nine
o'clock the Queen wrote the following letter to her chaplain, begging
him to watch in spirit with her, and to pray for her:--
[Footnote 124: "Elle annonça l'intention de descendre dans sa
garde-robe pour leur en faire le partage; mais Bourgoing lui
representa qu'elle recontrerait les gardes, placés aux pied de
l'escalier."--K. de Lettenhove, ii. 338.]
[Footnote 125: Among these last gifts Bourgoing received "two rings,
two small silver boxes, the Queen's two Lutes, her music-book bound
in velvet, and the red hangings of her bed." While among those given
to Elizabeth Curle we find mentioned a gold and enamelled tablet
containing portraits of the Queen, her husband (Francis II.), and
her son. This portrait, it seems probable, was the original of the
picture of Mary afterwards placed in the Church of St. Andrew in
Antwerp.]
TO PRÉAU.[126]
[Footnote 126: The original French in Labanoff, vi. 483;
and in Blackwood, _ap._ Jebb, ii. 303.]
No date (_7th February 1587_).
I have been attacked to-day concerning my religion, and
urged to receive consolation from the heretics. You
will hear from Bourgoin and the others that I at least
faithfully made protestation for my faith, in which I wish
to die. I requested to have you [with me], in order that I
might make my confession and receive my Sacrament, which
was cruelly refused me, as well as leave for my body to be
removed, and the power of making a free Will, or writing
anything except what shall pass through their hands and be
subject to the good pleasure of their mistress. In default
of that, I confess in general the gravity of my sins, as
I had intended to do to you in particular, begging you in
the name of God to pray and watch with me this night in
satisfaction for my sins, and to send me your Absolution,
and pardon for the things in which I have offended you.
I shall try to see you in their presence, as they have
allowed me to see the steward,[127] and if I am allowed,
I shall ask the blessing on my knees before all. Advise
me as to the most appropriate prayers for this night and
to-morrow morning, as the time is short and I have no
leisure to write; but I will recommend you, as well as the
others, and especially your Benefices shall be spared to
you, and I will recommend you to the King. I have no more
time. Tell me in writing of all that you shall think best
for the good of my soul. I shall send you a last little
token.
[Footnote 127: Melville.]
She then drew up her will. This long and interesting document,
written, as the Queen says, "being near to death," testifies to her
faith and last wishes. Mary declares that she dies in the Catholic
faith, and orders that solemn services for the repose of her soul
shall be held at St. Denis and at the Church of St. Pierre at
Rheims. She directs that all her debts shall be paid, and whatever
money shall remain over she leaves for legacies to her servants.
She appoints as her executors the Duke of Guise, the Archbishop of
Glasgow, the Bishop of Ross, and her Chancellor, du Ruisseau.[128]
[Footnote 128: This will was preserved for long at the Scotch College
in Paris. It bore the traces of the tears shed by the Queen as she
wrote it.--Strickland, vii. 482; see also Blackwood, p. 304.]
When Mary had written her will, she concluded a letter to the King of
France which she had begun on the previous day. Perhaps few historic
relics are more touching than this letter, the original of which we
have seen, and which, by its firm, clear characters, bears testimony
to the perfect calmness and tranquillity of mind with which it was
written.
LETTER TO HENRY III., KING OF FRANCE.[129]
[Footnote 129: Labanoff, vi. 492.]
MONSIEUR, MY BROTHER-IN-LAW--It is now almost
twenty years since I--by God's permission, and for my sins,
as I think--came to throw myself upon the mercy of this
Queen, my cousin, where I have had many trials; and now at
last I am condemned to death by her and her Government.
I have asked for my papers--which were taken by them--in
order to make my will, but I have obtained nothing that
can be of use to me, nor have I permission to make another
will; and they have even refused the desire I expressed
that my body should, after my death, be removed to your
kingdom, where I, your sister and former ally, had the
honour to be Queen.
To-day after dinner it was announced to me that to-morrow,
without fail, I must die like a criminal, at seven[130]
o'clock of the morning.
[Footnote 130: The copies of this letter here differ, some
reading seven, some eight o'clock.]
I have not had leisure to write a long account of all that
took place, but if you will please to believe my Physician
and those others my sorrowful Servants, you will know
the truth, and that, thanks be to God, I despise death,
and faithfully protest that I suffer it innocent of all
crime, even were I their subject, which I can never be. The
Catholic Faith and the maintenance of the right which God
has given me to this throne, these are the two points of my
condemnation; and yet they will not allow me to say that I
die for the Catholic Faith, but say that I die because I am
dangerous to their religion, and the proof of this is that
they have taken my chaplain from me. Although he is in the
house, I cannot obtain leave for him to hear my confession,
nor give me Holy Communion at the hour of my death; but
they made great efforts that I should receive consolation
and religious instruction from their minister brought here
for the purpose.
The bearer of this and his companions--chiefly subjects of
yours--will testify to you of my deportment at this the
last scene of my life. It remains only for me to implore
you, as Most Christian King, my brother-in-law, friend and
ally, who have done me so much honour as to love me and
protest of your affection, that under this blow you show
proof of your virtue in these matters by charitably aiding
me in that which it is impossible for me to do without your
assistance, namely, to reward my desolate attendants by
giving them their salaries, and by having prayer made to
God for a Queen who has been called Very-Christian, and who
dies a Catholic and destitute of all means.
Regarding my son, I commend him to you inasmuch as he shall
merit it, as I cannot answer for him; for my servants I beg
your help with clasped hands. I venture to send you two
rare stones, valuable for health, the which I desire you
to have in perfection, as also I wish you a long and happy
life. You will receive them as from your very affectionate
sister-in-law, who in dying desires to show her affection
for you. I will again recommend my servants to you in a
memoranda, and you will command, if you please, that my
soul shall benefit by a portion of that which you owe
me, in honour of Jesus Christ, to whom I will pray for
you to-morrow at my death. I beg you to grant sufficient
to found an Obit, and to make the desired Alms.--This
Wednesday, at two hours after midnight.--Your very
affectionate good sister,
MARIE.
When this, her last letter, was written, the Queen made a short
memorandum to recommend once more her attendants to Henry III. She
begged him to take Bourgoing as his doctor, and "to believe all he
should tell him."
Having now set all her affairs in order, Mary told her attendants
that "she wished to think no more of worldly matters, but desired to
employ the little time she had to live for the things of eternity."
It was now two o'clock in the morning. In order to imitate our
Lord, and to prepare for her last journey, the Queen had her feet
washed. Then, overcome with fatigue, she lay down on her bed without
undressing, while her women, who had already arrayed themselves in
mourning garments to mark their grief, watched and prayed around
her.[131] It was the Queen's custom to have some pages of the lives
of the saints read to her every evening. This night she desired
Jane Kennedy to look for the life of some saint who had once been a
great sinner. She stopped her at the life of the good thief, saying
humbly, "In truth he was a great sinner, but not so great as I have
been. I wish to take him for my patron for the time that remains to
me. May my Saviour, in memory of His passion, remember me and have
mercy on me, as He had of him at the hour of His death."
[Footnote 131: Chantelauze, p. 399.]
It presently occurred to the Queen that a handkerchief would be
required to bandage her eyes. She told one of her women to bring
her a very fine and beautiful one, edged with gold embroidery,
and carefully put it aside for the occasion. For some hours the
Queen rested on her bed. She lay immovable, with closed eyes and
hands crossed on her breast, but she did not sleep. Her attendants
perceived, by the movement of her lips and an occasional peaceful
smile, that she was praying, and all absorbed in the thought of
the life to come. As Jane Kennedy expressed it, she seemed to be
"laughing with the angels." Outside the Queen's room sinister noises
disturbed the silence of the night. From the great hall came ominous
sounds of hammering, and in the intervals of silence the measured
tramp of the troops posted round the castle could be distinguished.
Thus passed the dreary night, full of anguish to the watchers, but
spent in a holy calm and peace by the royal victim herself.