On landing on the shores of England, the Queen of Scotland found
messengers from Elizabeth empowered to express to her all the regret
their mistress felt in being unable to admit her to her presence, or to
give her the affectionate welcome she bore her in her heart. But it was
essential, they added, that first of all the queen should clear herself
of the death of Darnley, whose family, being subjects of the Queen of
England, had a right to her protection and justice.
Mary Stuart was so blinded that she did not see the trap, and
immediately offered to prove her innocence to the satisfaction of her
sister Elizabeth; but scarcely had she in her hands Mary Stuart's
letter, than from arbitress she became judge, and, naming commissioners
to hear the parties, summoned Murray to appear and accuse his sister.
Murray, who knew Elizabeth's secret intentions with regard to her rival,
did not hesitate a moment. He came to England, bringing the casket
containing the three letters we have quoted, some verses and some other
papers which proved that the queen had not only been Bothwell's mistress
during the lifetime of Darnley, but had also been aware of the
assassination of her husband. On their side, Lord Herries and the Bishop
of Ross, the queen's advocates, maintained that these letters had been
forged, that the handwriting was counterfeited, and demanded, in
verification, experts whom they could not obtain; so that this great
controversy, remained pending for future ages, and to this hour nothing
is yet affirmatively settled in this matter either by scholars or
historians.
After a five months' inquiry, the Queen of England made known to the
parties, that not having, in these proceedings, been able to discover
anything to the dishonour of accuser or accused, everything would remain
in statu quo till one or the other could bring forward fresh proofs.
As a result of this strange decision, Elizabeth should have sent back
the regent to Scotland, and have left Mary Stuart free to go where she
would. But, instead of that, she had her prisoner removed from Bolton
Castle to Carlisle Castle, from whose terrace, to crown her with grief,
poor Mary Stuart saw the blue mountains of her own Scotland.
However, among the judges named by Elizabeth to examine into Mary
Stuart's conduct was Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk. Be it that he was
convinced of Mary's innocence, be it that he was urged by the ambitious
project which since served as a ground for his prosecution, and which
was nothing else than to wed Mary Stuart, to affiance his daughter to
the young king, and to become regent of Scotland, he resolved to
extricate her from her prison. Several members of the high nobility of
England, among whom were the Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland,
entered into the plot and under, took to support it with all their
forces. But their scheme had been communicated to the regent: he
denounced it to Elizabeth, who had Norfolk arrested. Warned in time,
Westmoreland and Northumberland crossed the frontiers and took refuge in
the Scottish borders which were favourable to Queen Mary. The former
reached Flanders, where he died in exile; the latter, given up to
Murray, was sent to the castle of Lochleven, which guarded him more
faithfully than it had done its royal prisoner. As to Norfolk, he was
beheaded. As one sees, Mary Stuart's star had lost none of its fatal
influence.
Meanwhile the regent had returned to Edinburgh, enriched with presents
from Elizabeth, and having gained, in fact, his case with her, since
Mary remained a prisoner. He employed himself immediately in dispersing
the remainder of her adherents, and had hardly shut the gates of
Lochleven Castle upon Westmoreland than, in the name of the young King
James VI, he pursued those who had upheld his mother's cause, and among
them more particularly the Hamiltons, who since the affair of "sweeping
the streets of Edinburgh," had been the mortal enemies of the Douglases
personally; six of the chief members of this family were condemned to
death, and only obtained commutation of the penalty into an eternal
exile on the entreaties of John Knox, at that time so powerful in
Scotland that Murray dared not refuse their pardon.
One of the amnestied was a certain Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, a man of
ancient Scottish times, wild and vindictive as the nobles in the time of
James I. He had withdrawn into the highlands, where he had found an
asylum, when he learned that Murray, who in virtue of the confiscation
pronounced against exiles had given his lands to one of his favourites,
had had the cruelty to expel his sick and bedridden wife from her own
house, and that without giving her time to dress, and although it was in
the winter cold. The poor woman, besides, without shelter, without
clothes, and without food, had gone out of her mind, had wandered about
thus for some time, an object of compassion but equally of dread; for
everyone had been afraid of compromising himself by assisting her. At
last, she had returned to expire of misery and cold on the threshold
whence she had been driven.
On learning this news, Bothwellhaugh, despite the violence of his
character, displayed no anger: he merely responded, with a terrible
smile, "It is well; I shall avenge her."
Next day, Bothwellhaugh left his highlands, and came down, disguised,
into the plain, furnished with an order of admission from the Archbishop
of St. Andrews to a house which this prelate--who, as one remembers, had
followed the queen's fortunes to the last moment--had at Linlithgow.
This house, situated in the main street, had a wooden balcony looking on
to the square, and a gate which opened out into the country.
Bothwellhaugh entered it at night, installed himself on the first floor,
hung black cloth on the walls so that his shadow should not be seen from
without, covered the floor with mattresses so that his footsteps might
not be heard on the ground floor, fastened a racehorse ready saddled and
bridled in the garden, hollowed out the upper part of the little gate
which led to the open country so that he could pass through it at a
gallop, armed himself with a loaded arquebuse, and shut himself up in
the room.
All these preparations had been made, one imagines, because Murray was
to spend the following day in Linlithgow. But, secret as they were, they
were to be rendered useless, for the regent's friends warned him that it
would not be safe for him to pass through the town, which belonged
almost wholly to the Hamiltons, and advised him to go by it. However,
Murray was courageous, and, accustomed not to give way before a real
danger, he did nothing but laugh at a peril which he looked upon as
imaginary, and boldly followed his first plan, which was not to go out
of his way. Consequently, as the street into which the Archbishop of St.
Andrews' balcony looked was on his road, he entered upon it, not going
rapidly and preceded by guards who would open up a passage for him, as
his friends still counselled, but advancing at a foot's pace, delayed as
he was by the great crowd which was blocking up the streets to see him.
Arrived in front of the balcony, as if chance had been in tune with the
murderer, the crush became so great that Murray was obliged to halt for
a moment: this rest gave Bothwellhaugh time to adjust himself for a
steady shot. He leaned his arquebuse on the balcony, and, having taken
aim with the necessary leisure and coolness, fired. Bothwellhaugh had
put such a charge into the arquebuse, that the ball, having passed
through the regent's heart, killed the horse of a gentleman on his
right. Murray fell directly, saying, "My God! I am killed."
As they had seen from which window the shot was fired, the persons in
the regent's train had immediately thrown themselves against the great
door of the house which looked on to the street, and had smashed it in;
but they only arrived in time to see Bothwellhaugh fly through the
little garden gate on the horse he had got ready: they immediately
remounted the horses they had left in the street, and, passing through
the house, pursued him. Bothwellhaugh had a good horse and the lead of
his enemies; and yet, four of them, pistol in hand, were so well mounted
that they were beginning to gain upon him. Then Bothwellhaugh; seeing
that whip and spur were not enough, drew his dagger and used it to goad
on his horse. His horse, under this terrible stimulus, acquired fresh
vigour, and, leaping a gully eighteen feet deep, put between his master
and his pursuers a barrier which they dared not cross.
The murderer sought an asylum in France, where he retired under the
protection of the Guises. There, as the bold stroke he had attempted had
acquired him a great reputation, some days before the Massacre of St.
Bartholomew, they made him overtures to assassinate Admiral Coligny. But
Bothwellhaugh indignantly repulsed these proposals, saying that he was
the avenger of abuses and not an assassin, and that those who had to
complain of the admiral had only to come and ask him how he had done,
and to do as he.
As to Murray, he died the night following his wound, leaving the regency
to the Earl of Lennox, the father of Darnley: on learning the news of
his death, Elizabeth wrote that she had lost her best friend.
While these events were passing in Scotland, Mary Stuart was still a
prisoner, in spite of the pressing and successive protests of Charles IX
and Henry III. Taking fright at the attempt made in her favour,
Elizabeth even had her removed to Sheffield Castle, round which fresh
patrols were incessantly in motion.
But days, months, years passed, and poor Mary, who had borne so
impatiently her eleven months' captivity in Lochleven Castle, had been
already led from prison to prison for fifteen or sixteen years, in spite
of her protests and those of the French and Spanish ambassadors, when
she was finally taken to Tutbury Castle and placed under the care of Sir
Amyas Paulet, her last gaoler: there she found for her sole lodging two
low and damp rooms, where little by little what strength remained to her
was so exhausted that there were days on which she could not walk, on
account of the pain in all her limbs. Then it was that she who had been
the queen of two kingdoms, who was born in a gilded cradle and brought
up in silk and velvet, was forced to humble herself to ask of her gaoler
a softer bed and warmer coverings. This request, treated as an affair of
state, gave rise to negotiations which lasted a month, after which the
prisoner was at length granted what she asked. And yet the
unhealthiness, cold, and privations of all kinds still did not work
actively enough on that healthy and robust organisation. They tried to
convey to Paulet what a service he would render the Queen of England in
cutting short the existence of her who, already condemned in her rival's
mind, yet delayed to die. But Sir Amyas Paulet, coarse and harsh as he
was to Mary Stuart, declared that, so long as she was with him she would
have nothing to fear from poison or dagger, because he would taste all
the dishes served to his prisoner, and that no one should approach her
but in his presence. In fact, some assassins, sent by Leicester, the
very same who had aspired for a moment to the hand of the lovely Mary
Stuart, were driven from the castle directly its stern keeper had
learned with what intentions they had entered it. Elizabeth had to be
patient, then, in contenting herself with tormenting her whom she could
not kill, and still hoping that a fresh opportunity would occur for
bringing her to trial. That opportunity, so long delayed, the fatal star
of Mary Stuart at length brought.
A young Catholic gentleman, a last scion of that ancient chivalry which
was already dying out at that time, excited by the excommunication of
Pius V, which pronounced Elizabeth fallen from her kingdom on earth and
her salvation in heaven, resolved to restore liberty to Mary, who
thenceforth was beginning to be looked upon, no longer as a political
prisoner, but as a martyr for her faith. Accordingly, braving the law
which Elizabeth had had made in 1585, and which provided that, if any
attempt on her person was meditated by, or for, a person who thought he
had claims to the crown of England, a commission would be appointed
composed of twenty-five members, which, to the exclusion of every other
tribunal, would be empowered to examine into the offence, and to condemn
the guilty persons, whosoever they might be. Babington, not at all
discouraged by the example of his predecessors, assembled five of his
friends, Catholics as zealous as himself, who engaged their life and
honour in the plot of which he was the head, and which had as its aim to
assassinate Elizabeth, and as a result to place Mary Stuart on the
English throne. But this scheme, well planned as it was, was revealed to
Walsingham, who allowed the conspirators to go as far as he thought he
could without danger, and who, the day before that fixed for the
assassination, had them arrested.
This imprudent and desperate attempt delighted Elizabeth, for, according
to the letter of the law, it finally gave her rival's life into her
hands. Orders were immediately given to Sir Amyas Paulet to seize the
prisoner's papers and to move her to Fotheringay Castle. The gaoler,
then, hypocritically relaxing his usual severity, suggested to Mary
Stuart that she should go riding, under the pretext that she had need of
an airing. The poor prisoner, who for three years had only seen the
country through her prison bars, joyfully accepted, and left Tutbury
between two guards, mounted, for greater security, on a horse whose feet
were hobbled. These two guards took her to Fotheringay Castle, her new
habitation, where she found the apartment she was to lodge in already
hung in black. Mary Stuart had entered alive into her tomb. As to
Babington and his accomplices, they had been already beheaded.
Meanwhile, her two secretaries, Curle and Nau, were arrested, and all
her papers were seized and sent to Elizabeth, who, on her part, ordered
the forty commissioners to assemble, and proceed without intermission to
the trial of the prisoner. They arrived at Fotheringay the 14th October
1586; and next day, being assembled in the great hall of the castle,
they began the examination.
At first Mary refused to appear before them, declaring that she did not
recognise the commissioners as judges, they not being her peers, and not
acknowledging the English law, which had never afforded her protection,
and which had constantly abandoned her to the rule of force. But seeing
that they proceeded none the less, and that every calumny was allowed,
no one being there to refute it, she resolved to appear before the
commissioners. We quote the two interrogatories to which Mary Stuart
submitted as they are set down in the report of M. de Bellievre to M. de
Villeroy. M. de Bellievre, as we shall see later, had been specially
sent by King Henry III to Elizabeth. [Intelligence for M. Villeroy of
what was done in England by M. de Bellievre about the affairs of the
Queen of Scotland, in the months of November and December 1586 and
January 1587.]
The said lady being seated at the end of the table in the said hall, and
the said commissioners about her--
The Queen of Scotland began to speak in these terms:
"I do not admit that any one of you here assembled is my peer or my
judge to examine me upon any charge. Thus what I do, and now tell you,
is of my own free will, taking God to witness that I am innocent and
pure in conscience of the accusations and slanders of which they wish to
accuse me. For I am a free princess and born a queen, obedient to no
one, save to God, to whom alone I must give an account of my actions.
This is why I protest yet again that my appearance before you be not
prejudicial either to me, or to the kings, princes and potentates, my
allies, nor to my son, and I require that my protest be registered, and
I demand the record of it."
Then the chancellor, who was one of the commissioners, replied in his
turn, and protested against the protestation; then he ordered that there
should be read over to the Queen of Scotland the commission in virtue of
which they were proceeding--a commission founded on the statutes and law
of the kingdom.
But to this Mary Stuart made answer that she again protested; that the
said statutes and laws were without force against her, because these
statutes and laws are not made for persons of her condition.
To this the chancellor replied that the commission intended to proceed
against her, even if she refused to answer, and declared that the trial
should proceed; for she was doubly subject to indictment, the
conspirators having not only plotted in her favour, but also with her
consent: to which the said Queen of Scotland responded that she had
never even thought of it.
Upon this, the letters it was alleged she had written to Babington and
his answers were read to her.
Mary Stuart then affirmed that she had never seen Babington, that she
had never had any conference with him, had never in her life received a
single letter from him, and that she defied anyone in the world to
maintain that she had ever done anything to the prejudice of the said
Queen of England; that besides, strictly guarded as she was, away from
all news, withdrawn from and deprived of those nearest her, surrounded
with enemies, deprived finally of all advice, she had been unable to
participate in or to consent to the practices of which she was accused;
that there are, besides, many persons who wrote to her what she had no
knowledge of, and that she had received a number of letters without
knowing whence they came to her.
Then Babington's confession was read to her; but she replied that she
did not know what was meant; that besides, if Babington and his
accomplices had said such things, they were base men, false and liars.
"Besides," added she, "show me my handwriting and my signature, since
you say that I wrote to Babington, and not copies counterfeited like
these which you have filled at your leisure with the falsehoods it has
pleased you to insert."
Then she was shown the letter that Babington, it was said, had written
her. She glanced at it; then said, "I have no knowledge of this letter".
Upon this, she was shown her reply, and she said again, "I have no more
knowledge of this answer. If you will show me my own letter and my own
signature containing what you say, I will acquiesce in all; but up to
the present, as I have already told you, you have produced nothing
worthy of credence, unless it be the copies you have invented and added
to with what seemed good to you."
With these words, she rose, and with her eyes full of tears--
"If I have ever," said she, "consented to such intrigues, having for
object my sister's death, I pray God that He have neither pity nor mercy
on me. I confess that I have written to several persons, that I have
implored them to deliver me from my wretched prisons, where I
languished, a captive and ill-treated princess, for nineteen years and
seven months; but it never occurred to me, even in thought, to write or
even to desire such things against the queen. Yes, I also confess to
having exerted myself for the deliverance of some persecuted Catholics,
and if I had been able, and could yet, with my own blood, protect them
and save them from their pains, I would have done it, and would do it
for them with all my power, in order to save them from destruction."
Then, turning to the secretary, Walsingham--
"But, my lord," said she, "from the moment I see you here, I know whence
comes this blow: you have always been my greatest enemy and my son's,
and you have moved everyone against me and to my prejudice."
Thus accused to his face, Walsingham rose.
"Madam," he replied, "I protest before God, who is my witness, that you
deceive yourself, and that I have never done anything against you
unworthy of a good man, either as an individual or as a public
personage."
This is all that was said and done that day in the proceedings, till the
next day, when the queen was again obliged to appear before the
commissioners.
And, being seated at the end of the table of the said hall, and the said
commissioners about her, she began to speak in a loud voice.
"You are not unaware, my lords and gentlemen, that I am a sovereign
queen, anointed and consecrated in the church of God, and cannot, and
ought not, for any reason whatever, be summoned to your courts, or
called to your bar, to be judged by the law and statutes that you lay
down; for I am a princess and free, and I do not owe to any prince more
than he owes to me; and on everything of which I am accused towards my
said sister, I cannot reply if you do not permit me to be assisted by
counsel. And if you go further, do what you will; but from all your
procedure, in reiterating my protestations, I appeal to God, who is the
only just and true judge, and to the kings and princes, my allies and
confederates."
This protestation was once more registered, as she had required of the
commissioners. Then she was told that she had further written several
letters to the princes of Christendom, against the queen and the kingdom
of England.
"As to that," replied Mary Stuart, "it is another matter, and I do not
deny it; and if it was again to do, I should do as I have done, to gain
my liberty; for there is not a man or woman in the world, of less rank
than I, who would not do it, and who would not make use of the help and
succour of their friends to issue from a captivity as harsh as mine was.
You charge me with certain letters from Babington: well, I do not deny
that he has written to me and that I have replied to him; but if you
find in my answers a single word about the queen my sister, well, yes,
there will be good cause to prosecute me. I replied to him who wrote to
me that he would set me at liberty, that I accepted his offer, if he
could do it without compromising the one or the other of us: that is
all.
"As to my secretaries," added the queen, "not they, but torture spoke by
their mouths: and as to the confessions of Babington and his
accomplices, there is not much to be made of them; for now that they are
dead you can say all that seems good to you; and let who will believe
you."
With these words, the queen refused to answer further if she were not
given counsel, and, renewing her protestation, she withdrew into her
apartment; but, as the chancellor had threatened, the trial was
continued despite her absence.
However, M. de Chateauneuf, the French ambassador to London, saw matters
too near at hand to be deceived as to their course: accordingly, at the
first rumour which came to him of bringing Mary Stuart to trial, he
wrote to King Henry III, that he might intervene in the prisoner's
favour. Henry III immediately despatched to Queen Elizabeth an embassy
extraordinary, of which M. de Bellievre was the chief; and at the same
time, having learned that James VI, Mary's son, far from interesting
himself in his mother's fate, had replied to the French minister,
Courcelles, who spoke to him of her, "I can do nothing; let her drink
what she has spilled," he wrote him the following letter, to decide the
young prince to second him in the steps he was going to take:
"21st November, 1586.
"COURCELLES, I have received your letter of the 4th October last, in
which I have seen the discourse that the King of Scotland has held with
you concerning what you have witnessed to him of the good affection I
bear him, discourse in which he has given proof of desiring to
reciprocate it entirely; but I wish that that letter had informed me
also that he was better disposed towards the queen his mother, and that
he had the heart and the desire to arrange everything in a way to assist
her in the affliction in which she now is, reflecting that the prison
where she has been unjustly detained for eighteen years and more has
induced her to lend an ear to many things which have been proposed to
her for gaining her liberty, a thing which is naturally greatly desired
by all men, and more still by those who are born sovereigns and rulers,
who bear being kept prisoners thus with less patience. He should also
consider that if the Queen of England, my good sister, allows herself to
be persuaded by the counsels of those who wish that she should stain
herself with Queen Mary's blood, it will be a matter which will bring
him to great dishonour, inasmuch as one will judge that he will have
refused his mother the good offices that he should render her with the
said Queen of England, and which would have perhaps been sufficient to
move her, if he would have employed them, as warmly, and as soon as his
natural duty commanded him. Moreover, it is to be feared for him, that,
his mother dead, his own turn may come, and that one may think of doing
as much for him, by some violent means, to make the English succession
easier to seize for those who are likely to have it after the said Queen
Elizabeth, and not only to defraud the said King of Scotland of the
claim he can put forward, but to render doubtful even that which he has
to his own crown. I do not know in what condition the affairs of my said
sister-in-law will be when you receive this letter; but I will tell you
that in every case I wish you to rouse strongly the said King of
Scotland, with remonstrances, and everything else which may bear on this
subject, to embrace the defence and protection of his said mother, and
to express to him, on my part, that as this will be a matter for which
he will be greatly praised by all the other kings and sovereign princes,
he must be assured that if he fails in it there will be great censure
for him, and perhaps notable injury to himself in particular.
Furthermore, as to the state of my own affairs, you know that the queen,
madam and mother, is about to see very soon the King of Navarre, and to
confer with him on the matter of the pacification of the troubles of
this kingdom, to which, if he bear as much good affection as I do for my
part, I hope that things may come to a good conclusion, and that my
subjects will have some respite from the great evils and calamities that
the war occasions them: supplicating the Creator, Courcelles, that He
may have you in His holy keeping.
"Written at St. Germain-en-Laye, the 21st day of November 1586.(Signed)
HENRI,
"And below, BRULART."
This letter finally decided James VI to make a kind of demonstration in
his mother's favour: he sent Gray, Robert Melville, and Keith to Queen
Elizabeth. But although London was nearer Edinburgh than was Paris, the
French envoys reached it before the Scotch.
It is true that on reaching Calais, the 27th of November, M. de
Bellievre had found a special messenger there to tell him not to lose an
instant, from M. de Chateauneuf, who, to provide for every difficulty,
had chartered a vessel ready in the harbour. But however great the speed
these noble lords wished to make, they were obliged to await the wind's
good-will, which did not allow them to put to sea till Friday 28th at
midnight; next day also, on reaching Dover at nine o'clock, they were so
shaken by sea-sickness that they were forced to stay a whole day in the
town to recover, so that it was not till Sunday 30th that M. de
Bellievre was able to set out in the coach that M. Chateauneuf sent him
by M. de Brancaleon, and take the road to London, accompanied by the
gentlemen of his suite, who rode on post-horses; but resting only a few
hours on the way to make up for lost time, they at last arrived in
London, Sunday the 1st of December at midday. M. de Bellievre
immediately sent one of the gentlemen of his suite, named M. de
Villiers, to the Queen of England, who was holding her court at Richmond
Castle: the decree had been secretly pronounced already six days, and
submitted to Parliament, which was to deliberate upon it with closed
doors.
The French ambassadors could not have chosen a worse moment to approach
Elizabeth; and to gain time she declined to receive M. de Villiers,
returning the answer that he would himself know next day the reason for
this refusal. And indeed, next day, the rumour spread in London that the
French Embassy had contagion, and that two of the lords in it having
died of the plague at Calais, the queen, whatever wish she might have to
be agreeable to Henry III, could not endanger her precious existence by
receiving his envoys. Great was the astonishment of M. de Bellievre at
learning this news. He protested that the queen was led into error by a
false report, and insisted on being received. Nevertheless, the delays
lasted another six days; but as the ambassadors threatened to depart
without waiting longer, and as, upon the whole, Elizabeth, disquieted by
Spain, had no desire to embroil herself with France, she had M. de
Bellievre informed on the morning of the 7th of December that she was
ready to receive him after dinner at Richmond Castle, together with the
noblemen of his suite.
At the appointed time the French ambassadors presented themselves at the
castle gates, and, having been brought to the queen, found her seated on
her throne and surrounded by the greatest lords in her kingdom. Then MM.
de Chateauneuf and de Bellievre, the one the ambassador in ordinary and
the other the envoy extraordinary, having greeted her on the part of the
King of France, began to make her the remonstrances with which they were
charged. Elizabeth replied, not only in the same French tongue, but also
in the most beautiful speech in use at that time, and, carried away by
passion, pointed out to the envoys of her brother Henry that the Queen
of Scotland had always proceeded against her, and that this was the
third time that she had wished to attempt her life by an infinity of
ways; which she had already borne too long and with too much patience,
but that never had anything so profoundly cut her to the heart as her
last conspiracy; that event, added she with sadness, having caused her
to sigh more and to shed more tears than the loss of all her relations,
so much the more that the Queen of Scotland was her near relative and
closely connected with the King of France; and as, in their
remonstrances, MM. de Chateauneuf and de Bellievre had brought forward
several examples drawn from history, she assumed, in reply to them on
this occasion, the pedantic style which was usual with her, and told
them that she had seen and read a great many books in her life, and a
thousand more than others of her sex and her rank were wont to, but that
she had never found in them a single example of a deed like that
attempted on her--a deed pursued by a relative, whom the king her
brother could not and ought not to support in her wickedness, when it
was, on the contrary, his duty to hasten the just punishment of it: then
she added, addressing herself specially to M. de Bellievre, and coming
down again from the height of her pride to a gracious countenance, that
she greatly regretted he was not deputed for a better occasion; that in
a few days she would reply to King Henry her brother, concerning whose
health she was solicitous, as well as that of the queen mother, who must
experience such great fatigue from the trouble she took to restore peace
to her son's kingdom; and then, not wishing to hear more, she withdrew
into her room.
The envoys returned to London, where they awaited the promised reply;
but while they were expecting it unavailingly, they heard quietly the
sentence of death given against Queen Mary, which decided them to return
to Richmond to make fresh remonstrances to Queen Elizabeth. After two or
three fruitless journeys, they were at last, December 15th, admitted for
the second time to the royal presence.
The queen did not deny that the sentence had been pronounced, and as it
was easy to see that she did not intend in this case to use her right of
pardon, M. de Bellievre, judging that there was nothing to be done,
asked for a safe-conduct to return to his king: Elizabeth promised it to
him within two or three days.
On the following Tuesday, the 17th of the same month of December,
Parliament as well as the chief lords of the realm were convoked at the
Palace of Westminster, and there, in full court and before all, sentence
of death was proclaimed and pronounced against Mary Stuart: then this
same sentence, with great display and great solemnity, was read in the
squares and at the cross-roads of London, whence it spread throughout
the kingdom; and upon this proclamation the bells rang for twenty-four
hours, while the strictest orders were given to each of the inhabitants
to light bonfires in front of their houses, as is the custom in France
on the Eve of St. John the Baptist.
Then, amid this sound of bells, by the light of these bonfires, M. de
Bellievre, wishing to make a last effort, in order to have nothing with
which to reproach himself, wrote the following letter to Queen
Elizabeth:
"MADAM:--We quitted your Majesty yesterday, expecting, as it had pleased
you to inform us, to receive in a few days your reply touching the
prayer that we made you on behalf of our good master, your brother, for
the Queen of Scotland, his sister in-law and confederate; but as this
morning we have been informed that the judgment given against the said
queen has been proclaimed in London, although we had promised ourselves
another issue from your clemency and the friendship you bear to the said
lord king your good brother, nevertheless, to neglect no part of our
duty, and believing in so doing to serve the intentions of the king our
master, we have not wanted to fail to write to you this present letter,
in which we supplicate you once again, very humbly, not to refuse his
Majesty the very pressing and very affectionate prayer that he has made
you, that you will be pleased to preserve the life of the said lady
Queen of Scotland, which the said lord king will receive as the greatest
pleasure your Majesty could do him; while, on the contrary, he could not
imagine anything which would cause him more displeasure, and which would
wound him more, than if he were used harshly with regard to the said
lady queen, being what she is to him: and as, madam, the said king our
master, your good brother, when for this object he despatched us to your
Majesty, had not conceived that it was possible, in any case, to
determine so promptly upon such an execution, we implore you, madam,
very humbly, before permitting it to go further, to grant us some time
in which we can make known to him the state of the affairs of the said
Queen of Scotland, in order that before your Majesty takes a final
resolution, you may know what it may please his very Christian Majesty
to tell you and point out to you on the greatest affair which, in our
memory, has been submitted to men's judgment. Monsieur de Saint-Cyr, who
will give these presents to your Majesty, will bring us, if it pleases
you, your good reply.
"London, this 16th day of December 1586.
"(Signed) DE BELLIEVRE,
"And DE L'AUBESPINE CHATEAUNEUF."
The same day, M. de Saint-Cyr and the other French lords returned to
Richmond to take this letter; but the queen would not receive them,
alleging indisposition, so that they were obliged to leave the letter
with Walsingham, her first Secretary of State, who promised them to send
the queen's answer the following day.
In spite of this promise, the French lords waited two days more: at
last, on the second day, towards evening, two English gentlemen sought
out M. de Fellievre in London, and, viva voce, without any letter to
confirm what they were charged to say, announced to him, on behalf of
their queen, that in reply to the letter that they had written her, and
to do justice to the desire they had shown to obtain for the condemned a
reprieve during which they would make known the decision to the King of
France, her Majesty would grant twelve days. As this was Elizabeth's
last word, and it was useless to lose time in pressing her further, M.
de Genlis was immediately despatched to his Majesty the King of France,
to whom, besides the long despatch of M. de Chateauneuf and de Bellievre
which he was charged to remit, he was to say 'viva voce' what he had
seen and heard relative to the affairs of Queen Mary during the whole
time he had been in England.
Henry III responded immediately with a letter containing fresh
instructions for MM. de Chateauneuf and de Bellievre; but in spite of
all the haste M. de Genlis could make, he did not reach London till the
fourteenth day--that is to say, forty-eight hours after the expiration
of the delay granted; nevertheless, as the sentence had not yet been put
into execution, MM. de Bellievre and de Chateauneuf set out at once for
Greenwich Castle, some miles from London, where the queen was keeping
Christmas, to beg her to grant them an audience, in which they could
transmit to her Majesty their king's reply; but they could obtain
nothing for four or five days; however, as they were not disheartened,
and returned unceasingly to the charge, January 6th, MM. de Bellievre
and de Chateauneuf were at last sent for by the queen.
As on the first occasion, they were introduced with all the ceremonial
in use at that time, and found Elizabeth in an audience-chamber. The
ambassadors approached her, greeted her, and M. de Bellievre began to
address to her with respect, but at the same time with firmness, his
master's remonstrances. Elizabeth listened to them with an impatient
air, fidgeting in her seat; then at last, unable to control herself, she
burst out, rising and growing red with anger--
"M. de Bellievre," said she, "are you really charged by the king, my
brother, to speak to me in such a way?"
"Yes, madam," replied M. de Bellievre, bowing; "I am expressly commanded
to do so."
"And have you this command under his hand?" continued Elizabeth.
"Yes, madam," returned the ambassador with the same calmness; "and the
king, my master, your good brother, has expressly charged me, in letters
signed by his own hand, to make to your Majesty the remonstrances which
I have had the honour to address to you."
"Well," cried Elizabeth, no longer containing herself, "I demand of you
a copy of that letter, signed by you; and reflect that you will answer
for each word that you take away or add."
"Madam," answered M. de Bellievre, "it is not the custom of the kings of
France, or of their agents, to forge letters or documents; you will have
the copies you require to-morrow morning, and I pledge their accuracy on
my honour."
"Enough, sir, enough!" said the queen, and signing to everyone in the
room to go out, she remained nearly an hour with MM. de Chateauneuf and
de Bellievre. No one knows what passed in that interview, except that
the queen promised to send an ambassador to the King of France, who, she
promised, would be in Paris, if not before, at least at the same time as
M. de Bellievre, and would be the bearer of her final resolve as to the
affairs of the Queen of Scotland; Elizabeth then withdrew, giving the
French envoys to understand that any fresh attempt they might make to
see her would be useless.
On the 13th of January the ambassadors received their passports, and at
the same time notice that a vessel of the queen's was awaiting them at
Dover.
The very day of their departure a strange incident occurred. A gentleman
named Stafford, a brother of Elizabeth's ambassador to the King of
France, presented himself at M. de Trappes's, one of the officials in
the French chancellery, telling him that he was acquainted with a
prisoner for debt who had a matter of the utmost importance to
communicate to him, and that he might pay the greater attention to it,
he told him that this matter was connected with the service of the King
of France, and concerned the affairs of Queen Mary of Scotland. M. de
Trappes, although mistrusting this overture from the first, did not
want, in case his suspicions deceived him, to have to reproach himself
for any neglect on such a pressing occasion. He repaired then, with Mr.
Stafford to the prison, where he who wished to converse with him was
detained. When he was with him, the prisoner told him that he was locked
up for a debt of only twenty crowns, and that his desire to be at
liberty was so great that if M. de Chateauneuf would pay that sum for
him he would undertake to deliver the Queen of Scotland from her danger,
by stabbing Elizabeth: to this proposal, M. de Trappes, who saw the
pitfall laid for the French ambassador, was greatly astonished, and said
that he was certain that M. de Chateauneuf would consider as very evil
every enterprise having as its aim to threaten in any way the life of
Queen Elizabeth or the peace of the realm; then, not desiring to hear
more, he returned to M. de Chateauneuf and related to him what had just
happened. M. de Chateauneuf, who perceived the real cause of this
overture, immediately said to Mr. Stafford that he thought it strange
that a gentleman like himself should undertake with another gentleman
such treachery, and requested him to leave the Embassy at once, and
never to set foot there again. Then Stafford withdrew, and, appearing to
think himself a lost man, he implored M. de Trappes to allow him to
cross the Channel with him and the French envoys. M. de Trappes referred
him to M. de Chateauneuf, who answered Mr. Stafford directly that he had
not only forbidden him his house, but also all relations with any person
from the Embassy, that he must thus very well see that his request could
not be granted; he added that if he were not restrained by the
consideration he desired to keep for his brother, the Earl of Stafford,
his colleague, he would at once denounce his treason to Elizabeth. The
same day Stafford was arrested.
After this conference, M. de Trappes set out to rejoin his travelling
companions, who were some hours in advance of him, when, on reaching
Dover he was arrested in his turn and brought hack to prison in London.
Interrogated the same day, M. de Trappes frankly related what had
passed, appealing to M. de Chateauneuf as to the truth of what he said.
The day following there was a second interrogatory, and great was his
amazement when, on requesting that the one of the day before should be
shown him, he was merely shown, according to custom in English law,
counterfeit copies, in which were avowals compromising him as well as M.
de Chateauneuf: he objected and protested, refused to answer or to sign
anything further, and was taken back to the Tower with redoubled
precaution, the object of which was the appearance of an important
accusation.
Next day, M. de Chateauneuf was summoned before the queen, and there
confronted with Stafford, who impudently maintained that he had treated
of a plot with M. de Trappes and a certain prisoner for debt--a plot
which aimed at nothing less than endangering the Queen's life. M. de
Chateauneuf defended himself with the warmth of indignation, but
Elizabeth had too great an interest in being unconvinced even to attend
to the evidence. She then said to M. de Chateauneuf that his character
of ambassador alone prevented her having him arrested like his
accomplice M. de Trappes; and immediately despatching, as she had
promised, an ambassador to King Henry III, she charged him not to excuse
her for the sentence which had just been pronounced and the death which
must soon follow, but to accuse M. de Chateauneuf of having taken part
in a plot of which the discovery alone had been able to decide her to
consent to the death of the Queen of Scotland, certain as she was by
experience, that so long as her enemy lived her existence would be
hourly threatened.
On the same day, Elizabeth made haste to spread, not only in London, but
also throughout England, the rumour of the fresh danger from which she
had just escaped, so that, when, two days after the departure of the
French envoys, the Scottish ambassadors, who, as one sees, had not used
much speed, arrived, the queen answered them that their request came
unseasonably, at a time when she had just had proof that, so long as
Mary Stuart existed, her own (Elizabeth's) life was in danger. Robert
Melville wished to reply to this; but Elizabeth flew into a passion,
saying that it was he, Melville, who had given the King of Scotland the
bad advice to intercede for his mother, and that if she had such an
adviser she would have him beheaded. To which Melville answered--
"That at the risk of his life he would never spare his master good
advice; and that, on the contrary, he who would counsel a son to let his
mother perish, would deserve to be beheaded."
Upon this reply, Elizabeth ordered the Scotch envoys to withdraw,
telling them that she would let them have her answer.
Three or four days passed, and as they heard nothing further, they asked
again for a parting audience to hear the last resolve of her to whom
they were sent: the queen then decided to grant it, and all passed, as
with M. de Bellievre, in recriminations and complaints. Finally,
Elizabeth asked them what guarantee they would give for her life in the
event of her consenting to pardon the Queen of Scotland. The envoys
responded that they were authorised to make pledges in the name of the
King of Scotland, their master, and all the lords of his realm, that
Mary Stuart should renounce in favour of her son all her claims upon the
English crown, and that she should give as security for this undertaking
the King of France, and all the princes and lords, his relations and
friends.
To this answer, the queen, without her usual presence of mind, cried,
"What are you saying, Melville? That would be to arm my enemy with two
claims, while he has only one".
"Does your Majesty then regard the king, my master, as your enemy?"
replied Melville. "He believed himself happier, madam, and thought he
was your ally."
"No, no," Elizabeth said, blushing; "it is a way of speaking: and if you
find a means of reconciling everything, gentlemen, to prove to you, on
the contrary, that I regard King James VI as my good and faithful ally,
I am quite ready to incline to mercy. Seek, then, on your side" added
she, "while I seek on mine."
With these words, she went out of the room, and the ambassadors retired,
with the light of the hope of which she had just let them catch a
glimpse.
The same evening, a gentleman at the court sought out the Master of
Gray, the head of the Embassy, as if to pay him a civil visit, and while
conversing said to him, "That it was very difficult to reconcile the
safety of Queen Elizabeth with the life of her prisoner; that besides,
if the Queen of Scotland were pardoned, and she or her son ever came to
the English throne, there would be no security for the lords
commissioners who had voted her death; that there was then only one way
of arranging everything, that the King of Scotland should himself give
up his claims to the kingdom of England; that otherwise, according to
him, there was no security for Elizabeth in saving the life of the
Scottish queen". The Master of Gray then, looking at him fixedly, asked
him if his sovereign had charged him to come to him with this talk. But
the gentleman denied it, saying that all this was on his own account and
in the way of opinion.
Elizabeth received the envoys from Scotland once more, and then told
them--
"That after having well considered, she had found no way of saving the
life of the Queen of Scotland while securing her own, that accordingly
she could not grant it to them". To this declaration, the Master of Gray
replied: "That since it was thus, he was, in this case, ordered by his
master to say that they protested in the name of King James that all
that had been done against his mother was of no account, seeing that
Queen Elizabeth had no authority over a queen, as she was her equal in
rank and birth; that accordingly they declared that immediately after
their return, and when their master should know the result of their
mission, he would assemble his Parliament and send messengers to all the
Christian princes, to take counsel with them as to what could be done to
avenge her whom they could not save."
Then Elizabeth again flew into a passion, saying that they had certainly
not received from their king a mission to speak to her in such a way;
but they thereupon offered to give her this protest in writing under
their signatures; to which Elizabeth replied that she would send an
ambassador to arrange all that with her good friend and ally, the King
of Scotland. But the envoys then said that their master would not listen
to anyone before their return. Upon which Elizabeth begged them not to
go away at once, because she had not yet come to her final decision upon
this matter. On the evening following this audience, Lord Hingley having
come to see the Master of Gray, and having seemed to notice some
handsome pistols which came from Italy, Gray, directly he had gone,
asked this nobleman's cousin to take them to him as a gift from him.
Delighted with this pleasant commission, the young man wished to perform
it the same evening, and went to the queen's palace, where his relative
was staying, to give him the present which he had been told to take to
him. But hardly had he passed through a few rooms than he was arrested,
searched, and the arms he was taking were found upon him. Although these
were not loaded, he was immediately arrested; only he was not taken to
the Tower, but kept a prisoner in his own room.
Next day there was a rumour that the Scotch ambassadors had wanted to
assassinate the queen in their turn, and that pistols, given by the
Master of Gray himself, had been found on the assassin.
This bad faith could not but open the envoys' eyes. Convinced at last
that they could do nothing for poor Mary Stuart, they left her to her
fate, and set out next day for Scotland.
Scarcely were they gone than Elizabeth sent her secretary, Davison, to
Sir Amyas Paulet. He was instructed to sound him again with regard to
the prisoner; afraid, in spite of herself, of a public execution, the
queen had reverted to her former ideas of poisoning or assassination;
but Sir Amyas Paulet declared that he would let no one have access to
Mary but the executioner, who must in addition be the bearer of a
warrant perfectly in order, Davison reported this answer to Elizabeth,
who, while listening to him, stamped her foot several times, and when he
had finished, unable to control herself, cried, "God's death! there's a
dainty fellow, always talking of his fidelity and not knowing how to
prove it!"
Elizabeth was then obliged to make up her mind. She asked Davison for
the warrant; he gave it to her, and, forgetting that she was the
daughter of a queen who had died on the scaffold, she signed it without
any trace of emotion; then, having affixed to it the great seal of
England, "Go," said she, laughing, "tell Walsingham that all is ended
for Queen Mary; but tell him with precautions, for, as he is ill, I am
afraid he will die of grief when he hears it."
The jest was the more atrocious in that Walsingham was known to be the
Queen of Scotland's bitterest enemy.
Towards evening of that day, Saturday the 14th, Beale, Walsingham's
brother-in-law, was summoned to the palace! The queen gave into his
hands the death warrant, and with it an order addressed to the Earls of
Shrewsbury, Kent, Rutland, and other noblemen in the neighbourhood of
Fotheringay, to be present at the execution. Beale took with him the
London executioner, whom Elizabeth had had dressed in black velvet for
this great occasion; and set out two hours after he had received his
warrant.