“Nothing can, in fact, afford clearer evidence of Mary’s ignorance of
the plot of her husband’s murder than this first confession of Hubert.
Malcolm Laing, the most able of all the writers who have adopted the
self-interested calumnies of the conspirators against Mary, put forth
by their venal organ, Buchanan, and the political agents of Cecil,
insists on the authenticity and credibility of this document. It
contains, indeed, such strong internal evidences of reality that we
fully coincide with him in its being genuine evidence, and for this
reason reject the so-called second confession of Nicholas Hubert, or
French Paris, as spurious, because one or the other must be false, and
the second is palpably a fabrication between Murray and his secretary,
Alexander Hay, to bolster up the forged letters and defame the queen.
As poor Hubert could not write, it was unlikely he could read the paper
to which Murray’s secretary made him put his mark. He had no trial, and
though Queen Elizabeth requested he might be sent to London, Murray
hanged him, that he might not contradict what had been put forth in his
name.”
We mention Agnes Strickland, in these comparisons with the testimony
of Froude, because she was also an English writer; and she quotes from
the very same authorities, for nearly all of the historians, letters,
state papers, and authorities are cited by Miss Strickland which
are used by Froude in proof of his statements. We also quote Agnes
Strickland because her works are within the reach of every one, and
those desiring to investigate the evidences on both sides will find her
authorities in the foot-notes of her “English and Scottish Queens,”
and in separate lives of Mary Stuart and Elizabeth, in her historical
series. It is not the authority of Agnes Strickland as against that
of Froude, but the weight of the many authorities and state papers
which both refer to, as evidence in proof of the different sides they
take upon this perplexing question. Froude pronounces Mary Stuart as
probably innocent of all evil intent regarding Rizzio, and exonerates
her of any improper conduct with him further than a good-natured
condescension towards one in her employ. But if Mary Stuart’s guilt
with Bothwell is proven, it is idle to talk of her innocence with
Rizzio.
Mary Stuart was rescued from the power of the infamous Bothwell, and he
was obliged to flee the country, and died in exile ten years after. But
poor abused Mary was not yet free from her enemies. The very men who
rescued her from Bothwell were leagued with England, with the ambitious
Murray at their head. Their plan was now to get rid of the queen and
get hold of the baby prince, that they might in his name get possession
of the government. And with this scheme England and Elizabeth were
well pleased, forsooth, for by bribes and threats the regent of
the baby king could be held in England’s power. As these nefarious
schemers planned, so did they execute. Queen Mary was apparently
aided by them to escape the power of Bothwell, but so cruelly was
she treated that it was but an exchange of jailors. Poor, slandered,
persecuted queen, thinking good of every one, she was betrayed on every
hand. Husband, father-in-law, half-brother, Scottish ministers, and
England’s courtiers, incited by a jealous cousin-queen, all plotted and
counter-plotted and wove the web so closely around her that there was
no escape. She was betrayed by one party, only to find herself more
cruelly betrayed by her supposed deliverers.
To whom could she turn? Elizabeth had treacherously and hypocritically
sympathized with her terrible woes. Elizabeth was a woman, and a
cousin, and a queen; would she not succor her? and so the confiding
heart of Mary, Queen of Scots, thinking no evil of those who professed
kindness, fled to England and delivered herself unwittingly into the
hands of her very worst foe. The poor fly now was entrapped, and the
wily spider prepared her final doom.
The captive Queen of Scots had been transferred from prison to prison,
each day more closely confined, each day treated with less respect
and greater cruelty. At length Mary, Queen of Scots, was brought to
trial and accused of high treason. Mary Stuart had neither advocates,
counsel, nor documents; no one was allowed to plead for her, but
notwithstanding, for two days, the ablest lawyers in England were
held in check by her wit, skill, and marvellous presence of mind.
Mary demanded to be heard by Parliament, and to be permitted to see
the queen in person. But this was denied her, and sentence of death
was passed upon her. It was at this time that Henry III., of France,
endeavored to awaken in the heart of James VI., of Scotland, some
sentiments of regard for his helpless mother. If the conduct of the
King of Scotland shocked the _son_ of _Catherine de’ Medici_, what
severer condemnation of the unnatural treatment of James VI. can be
required?
Such is Guizot’s comment upon the treatment of the young Scottish king
towards his unfortunate mother, whose pitiable misfortunes roused
many princes in Europe to espouse her cause and endeavor to effect her
freedom, which efforts in the end proved most disastrous, as they only
brought down greater accusations upon her head.
Some writers do declare, however, that James VI., of Scotland, did make
some feeble efforts in her behalf, which were quickly made unavailing
through the wily cunning of Elizabeth and her scheming ministers.
When her sentence was read to the hapless Queen of Scots, Mary made the
sign of the cross and calmly said “that death was welcome, but that she
had not expected after having being detained twenty years in prison
that her sister Elizabeth would thus dispose of her.” At the same time
Mary placed her hand upon a book beside her, and swore a solemn oath
that she had never contemplated nor sought the death of Elizabeth.
“That is a popish Bible,” exclaimed the Earl of Kent, rudely; “your
oath is of no value.”
“It is a Catholic testament,” said the queen with calm dignity, “and
therefore, my lord, as I believe that to be the true version, my oath
is the more to be relied on.”
Some writers claim that Elizabeth did not herself sign the
death-warrant of Mary, Queen of Scots, but tacitly consenting thereto,
her signature was at last forged by one Thomas Harrison, a private
and confidential secretary of Sir Francis Walsingham. According to
Elizabeth’s secretary, Davison, the warrant had been ready for six
weeks when the queen signed it in private, consigning it to the
Secretary of State, Davison, “without other orders,” as she afterwards
declared. Regarding Harrison’s confession, which did not come to light
until twenty years after Mary’s execution, it is stated that a document
was found, purporting to be a Star-Chamber investigation, dated 1606.
It is a deposition, attested by the signatures of two persons of the
names of Mayer and Macaw, affirming, “that the late Thomas Harrison, a
private and confidential secretary of the late Sir Francis Walsingham,
did voluntarily acknowledge to them that, in conjunction with Thomas
Phillipps and Maude, he, by the direction of his master, Sir Francis
Walsingham, added to the letters of the late queen of Scotland those
passages that were afterwards brought in evidence against her, and for
which she was condemned to suffer death; and that he was employed by
his said master, Sir Francis Walsingham, to forge Queen Elizabeth’s
signature to the death-warrant of the Queen of Scots, which none of her
ministers could ever induce her to sign; and that he did this with the
knowledge and assent of four of her principal ministers of state.”
Regarding this point, Miss Strickland, in her life of Queen Elizabeth,
says: “If she did not sign the warrant for Mary’s execution,—and we
have only Davison’s asseveration in proof that she did,—then was
her ignorance of the consummation real, her tears and lamentations
unaffected, and her indignation against her ministers no grimace.”
But were this the case, why did Elizabeth not clear her own reputation
from the stain of this infamous deed by denouncing her unscrupulous
ministers who had dared thus tamper with her royal name and royal
authority? Miss Strickland claims that she could not, giving the
reason in these words: “The position in which her ministers had placed
Elizabeth, was the more painful because, unless she could have brought
them to a public trial, convicted them of the treasonable crime of
procuring her royal signature to be forged, she could not explain
the offence of which they had been guilty. The impossibility of
proclaiming the whole truth, rendered her passionate protestations
of her own innocence not only unsatisfactory, but apparently false
and equivocating. While she denied the deed, she was in a manner
compelled to act as if it were her own, being unable to inflict condign
punishment on the subtle junta who had combined to make unauthorized
use of her name for the immolation of the heiress-presumptive of the
crown.”
But if Elizabeth was innocent of the death of Mary, Queen of Scots,
it seems evident that with her imperious nature, she would have most
daringly and publicly resented and punished such audacious villany.
Had she in reality desired the death of Mary, and yet refused to sign
the warrant, and had her name been forged upon it, this would have
given her the very opportunity to clear her own name from infamy and
the condemnation of the powers of Europe, which she well knew this
execution would call forth; and yet the very end she dared to _wish
for_, if not to _command_, would have been accomplished, and the blame
would rest upon others rather than herself.
That Elizabeth desired the death of Mary all her previous conduct
would prove; and if that death was accomplished at last through the
crimes of others, unknown to the queen of England, surely she could
not have had a better opportunity for proving her own innocence than
the denunciation of the treacherous ministers who had committed the
crime. That she denounced them it is true; but the strength and manner
of those denunciations were more in keeping with the supposition that
she was hypocritically screening her own aid and connivance in the
treachery, than that they had dared commit so criminal a villany as
the forging of her own royal name, and the commission of so grave an
offence upon the strength of that forged signature.
At six o’clock on the fatal morning of the 8th of February, 1587,
Mary Stuart told her ladies that “she had but two hours to live, and
bade them dress her as for a festival.” The particulars of the last
_toilette_ have been preserved. “She wore a widow’s dress of black
velvet, spangled over with gold, a black satin pourpoint and kirtle,
and under these a petticoat of crimson velvet, with a body of the same
color, and a white veil of the most delicate texture, of the fashion
worn by princesses of the highest rank, thrown over her coif and
descending to the ground. She wore a pomander chain, and an _Agnus Dei_
about her neck, and a pair of beads at her girdle, with a cross.”
Mary Stuart had gained the reluctant consent of her inhuman jailers,
that her faithful ladies, Jane Kennedy and Elizabeth Curie, should
attend her in her last moments. This had been stoutly refused at first,
but the eloquent exclamation of the royal captive, “I am cousin to your
queen, descended of the blood-royal of Henry VII., a married queen of
France, and the anointed queen of Scotland!” at length shamed them into
granting this last request.
When the still-beautiful, heroic Mary Stuart entered the hall of death,
followed by her faithful attendants, she gazed upon the sable scaffold,
the dread block, the gleaming axe, and the revolting executioner, with
calm and undaunted courage, manifesting by her majestic and intrepid
demeanor, and the angelic sweetness of her countenance, that in spite
of calumny and hostile hosts of pitiless foes, Mary, Queen of Scots
could face the world and death undismayed.
[Illustration: MARY STUART LED TO EXECUTION