ALTHOUGH Bourgoing's Journal furnishes us, for the first time, with some details of the Queen's life during the days following the conclusion of the trial, it is provokingly silent as to the manner in which she passed the remainder of the day itself. All he notes is, that "after supper Sir Amyas sent the copy of her protest to Her Majesty."

Sir Amyas, we may suppose, spent his evening in congenial company, for at least one guest of importance remained in the castle. Burleigh writes to Secretary Davison from Fotheringay on the same evening, and the following extracts from his letter show the spirit in which he had carried out his Commission.

"The Queen of the castle," he writes, "was pleased to appear before us in public, so as to be heard in her own defence; but she only replied negatively upon the points in the letters regarding the plots against Her Majesty. She maintained that they had not been written by her, and that she had never had the smallest knowledge of them. In the other things with which she was reproached, as her escape from prison, even by force, and as to the invasion of the kingdom, she said that she neither denied nor avowed them. But her intention was, by long and artificial speeches, to excite the pity of the judges, to throw all the blame upon the person of Her Majesty the Queen, or rather upon the council, from whom she said all the past troubles emanated; maintaining that her offers were reasonable, and that the refusal came from our side. And on this point I fought, and refuted her arguments in such a manner, by my knowledge and experience, that she did not have the advantage she had promised herself. I am also certain that the audience did not think her position worthy of much pity, her allegations being proved to be untrue."[43]

Knowing Paulet's sympathies to be entirely with Mary's accusers, it is astonishing to find that his conduct to her at this moment shows signs of unwonted kindness and consideration. He, says Bourgoing, "now treated the Queen courteously, furnished her with the necessary things for her comfort in her lodgings, to which he added the same hall which had served for the examination, and his conversation with her was of good manners, and was rather amiable and courteous than the contrary." Then this faithful servant goes on to tell us how his mistress comforted herself during the weeks of suspense that followed. "Her Majesty, during the whole of this time, was far from being troubled or moved by all that had passed; in fact, I had not seen her so joyous, nor so constantly at her ease, for the last seven years. She spoke only on pleasant subjects, and often, in particular, gave her opinion on some points of the history of England, in the study of which she passed a good portion of the day; afterwards discoursing on the subject of her reading with her household, quite familiarly and joyously, showing no sign of sadness, but with even a more cheerful countenance than previous to her troubles."[44]

Mary had always had a taste for history, and now in the long days of captivity she seems to have given much of her time to this favourite study. The history of her own house, as well as that of the English royal family, must have had a deep and painful interest for her at a moment when she herself was threatened with a fate as tragic as any recorded in its darkest pages. In talking over the subject of her reading Mary would often advert to her own affairs, calmly discussing the probabilities, and showing that she expected the worst, of her own life or death, without showing any emotion,—indeed, "her resolution was that she did not fear to die for her good quarrel," adds Bourgoing; and if her people tried to assure her that her death could never be contemplated, she would say that she knew very well what would happen. Mary, in fact, perceived plainly the intentions of her accusers, and not content with her own courageous dispositions, she took pains to acquire all the bodily strength possible before the day of trial. In her physician's quaint language, "Her Majesty took remedies for five or six days to ward off the illness which generally attacked her at the commencement of winter, and this with as much willingness and cheerfulness as she ever did before."

Thus the days passed until the Feast of All Saints. As the Queen was still deprived of her chaplain, she was unable to keep the feast with the solemnity she would have wished. She passed it, however, in prayer and in reading the lives of the saints and martyrs. After dinner, while she was in her oratory, Sir Amyas wished to visit her, and unwilling to disturb her, "waited till Her Majesty had finished her prayers;" then, still with unwonted courtesy, he conversed for a considerable time with her, "as if he had nothing really to say to her, and hardly knew with what to entertain her." Sir Amyas, however, had his instructions from Queen Elizabeth, and under semblance of an ordinary conversation, his object was, if possible, to discover some sign of weakness or relenting in his prisoner's sentiments. In this he was disappointed. Mary spoke cheerfully on general subjects,—about her health, which she said was improved; and about her reading, which provided her with her chief amusement. Speaking of the history of England, she observed that in that country blood had never ceased to flow; to which Paulet replied that it had been the same in other countries, and that nothing was more necessary when a state was threatened with serious perils.

Mary, paying no attention to the significance of these words, alluded to the trial, and said that she had remarked visible signs of sympathy and compassion on the countenances of several of the Commissioners, and that she would like to know their names, that she might always bear them in grateful remembrance.

"Those who accused you and those who kept silence were all actuated by the same sentiments," retorted Paulet. "Not one of them was favourable to your cause. I marvel," continued Paulet, "and every one else is astonished, to see you so calm, under the circumstances in which you find yourself. No living person has ever been accused of crimes so frightful and odious as you are."

"I have no occasion to feel troubled or disturbed," rejoined the Queen; "my conscience is at rest and I have already answered my accusers. God and I know that I have never attempted nor connived at the death or murder of any one. My conscience is perfectly free and clear on this point, and being innocent, I have rather occasion to rejoice than to be sad, having my confidence in God, the protector of the innocent."

"It is a great happiness," replied Sir Amyas, "to have a clear conscience. God is your witness, but a false and dissimulating conscience is a bad thing; it would be better to confess and repent before God, and the world, if you are guilty, which is indeed too evident, the matter having been so well elucidated in your very presence, as you cannot deny."

"No one can say that he is free from sin," answered the Queen. "I am a woman and human, and have offended God, and I repent of my sins, and pray God to forgive me, doing penance for the same; but at present I do not know to whom I could or should confess—God forbid that I should ask you to be my confessor. In the present matter I am not guilty, as you well know, and I cannot therefore confess it. You will accuse me of what you like, having long had this in view; as I am a Catholic, you wish to treat me as you do the others. I am quite prepared and resolved to die for my religion, and ask for nothing better. I am ready to suffer and endure for the name of God, all unworthy as I am, as have done many holy saints and martyrs, of whom I have read to-day, and whose feast we celebrate."

Sir Amyas protested that there was no question of religion, but of invasion and murder, and that neither Mary nor all the others who might be implicated in the matter could be excused, but were well worthy of punishment.

"It is nothing else," returned the Queen, "but it was necessary to find some other disguise for the measures which had led to this position; but I shall not fare the worse for that. Do not spare me."

In reply Sir Amyas insisted that it was not for religion, and that no one had yet been punished for religion. Further he declared that he knew nothing of what the lords had done, but that they had found the facts so clear and evident that it was reported that they had given sentence, but he did not know of it. Nothing was certain. And he again urged the Queen to confess.

To this Mary rejoined as before, and added that she knew well that she had been already condemned by her judges before the trial. All that they did here," continued she, "was merely for form's sake, to give a colouring of truth to the proceedings, and to gain their ends, in which I am not bound to acquiesce, and I care nothing for what they have done; it is very easy for brigands and robbers, when they are the strongest, to overcome by force those who pass their way. My enemies keep me in prison, and it is very easy for them to dispose of me as they will. They have strength on their side, while I am weak and alone. I would that every one knew how I am treated and how my affairs are managed."

"You would be very sorry if every one knew," retorted Sir Amyas, "but a matter of this kind cannot be kept quiet or concealed. No sentence or judgment had been delivered before the coming of the lords here."

The Queen remarked that she wished all Christian princes and foreigners could witness how she had been treated, not for her own sake, but for the confusion of her enemies, and for the sake of those of the Catholic Church; for her enemies had not ceased to persecute the poor Catholics, under the pretext that they were traitors because they would not recognise the Queen of England as supreme head of the Church. "For myself," continued she, "as I have already declared before many, I recognise no other head of the Church than the Pope, to whose rule it was confided by the consent of the whole Church duly assembled."

Sir Amyas said that the Queen did not take the title of supreme head of the Church. "God forbid," added he, "that there should be any other supreme head than Jesus Christ. I recognise no other."

"It is on this point alone that the exclusion of Catholics is founded," replied Mary, "and it is a well-known fact that, following the example of Henry the Eighth, this title was given to your mistress. As you may believe, the Calvinists, who are the most reformed, do not approve of this, but those who follow the Queen's religion, who are Lutherans and the inventors of that sect, consider guilty of high treason all those who deny her prerogatives. Not only have those been judged to be guilty who do not recognise the Queen's title, or who deny it by words or by acts, but they have been forced to declare their opinion on their conscience, and on their reply have been condemned to death. If the Queen of England may not wish to accept the title, she at least knows well that it is given to her, and the person who does not give it is looked upon as guilty."

Sir Amyas, shaking his head ironically, once more protested that his mistress did not accept such a title, nor was it given to her. He allowed, however, that the Puritans and others acknowledged her as "head and governor under God of things ecclesiastical and temporal in England, as it was reasonable she should be, but not as supreme head of the Church."

"It all comes to the same thing," returned the Queen, "whatever colour you may give it, and for the rest, I care nothing for your sentences; go, proceed as you like. I know at your age you would not assert such things unless you were backed by others."[45]

"Sir Amyas pretended that this was not so, and reassured the Queen as well as he was able," says Bourgoing, "and on his departure we formed the opinion from certain conjectures, that he was going to write Her Majesty's replies to the Court." We find him accordingly writing to Walsingham as follows:—

"I took occasion yesterday, after one, accompanied by Mr. Stallenge, to visit the Queen.... I see no change in her, from her former quietness and serenity, certified in my last letters.... I tarried with her one hour and a half at the least; which I did on purpose to feel her disposition, and moving no new matter myself, suffered her to go from matter to matter at her pleasure.... This only thing I thought good to signify unto you that, falling in talk of the late assembly here, and having glanced at the Lord Zouch for his speech in the star-chamber, and also at the Lord Morley for some things delivered by him to the lords sitting next unto him, which she said she overheard and told him of it in the open assembly, she was curious to be informed of the names of one such sitting in such a place, and of others sitting in other places, saying that one had said little, another somewhat more, and others very much. I told her that I might easily perceive, by her hard conceit of the lords which she had named already, she was much inclined to think ill of all those that spake, and therefore I would forbear to name any man unto her; praying her to conceive honourably of the whole assembly, and to think that those which spake, and the rest which were silent, were of one consent and mind to hear her cause with all indifference."[46]

That Paulet dreaded his interviews with Mary, and tried to evade them as far as possible, we have his own evidence. "I pray you," he writes to Walsingham on the same day, "let me hear from you whether it is expected that I should see my charge often, which, as I do not desire to do, so I do not see that any good can come of it, so long as I stand assured that she is forthcoming."

That his prisoner might be the more securely "forthcoming," extra precautions had been taken, and that in a manner which appears to have deceived even Bourgoing himself, for he notes, quite gratefully, that Sir Amyas had closed and restored the Queen's large room for the "safety of Her Majesty and her convenience."

On 13th November Sir Drue Drury arrived to take the place of Stallenge in assisting Paulet in his charge; and some days later Lord Buckhurst, the bearer of fatal tidings, reached the castle. To understand his mission we must consider what had taken place meanwhile in London.

On 25th October the Commissioners had met in the star-chamber at Westminster. At this time the two important witnesses, Nau and Curle, were produced.

The reports of the meeting are very scanty, but apparently the witnesses were asked no questions; they are merely said to have affirmed on oath certain confessions and declarations, of which neither the originals nor copies are preserved. Curle is also supposed to have affirmed "that as well the letter which Babington did write to the Scots queen, as the draughts of her answer to the same were both burned at her command."

This declaration, which, if true, was of the utmost importance, was made on this occasion only, and in the absence of the accused. The Commissioners found Mary guilty, not of certain matters with which Lord Burleigh had charged her, but for having "compassed and imagined since the 1st of June aforesaid divers matters tending to the hurt, death, and destruction of the Queen of England." One man alone had the courage to assert his belief in Mary's innocence. Lord Zouch declared that he was not satisfied that "she had compassed, practised, or imagined the death of the Queen of England."

The Commissioners added a clause to the effect that the King of Scots should not be held responsible for his mother's crimes. "The said sentence," added they, "did derogate nothing from James, King of Scots, in title or honour, but that he was the same in place, degree, and right as if the same sentence had never been pronounced."

A few days later both Houses of Parliament presented an address to Elizabeth, praying for execution of the sentence against the Queen of Scots.[47] "We cannot find," said they, "that there is any possible means of providing for your Majesty's safety but by the just and speedy execution of the said Queen; the neglecting whereof may procure the heavy displeasure and punishment of Almighty God, as by sundry severe examples of His great justice in that behalf left us in the sacred Scriptures does appear," etc.

To this appeal Elizabeth made a very clever reply, beginning thus:—

"Though my life hath been dangerously shot at, yet I protest there is nothing hath more grieved me than that one not differing from me in sex, of like rank, and degree, of the same stock, and most nearly allied to me in blood, hath fallen into so great a crime." She goes on to say that if her cousin would even now truly repent, and if her own life alone, and not the good of England, were at stake, she would most willingly pardon Mary. She concludes by saying that in a matter of so great importance a speedy decision cannot be looked for, as it is her custom to deliberate long, even in matters which are unimportant as compared with this.

At the end of twelve days Elizabeth sent a message to both Houses of Parliament, begging them to reconsider the matter, and "to devise some better remedy, whereby both the Queen of Scots' life might be spared and her own security provided for."[48]

After fresh and earnest consultation, both Houses declared that Mary's death was essential to the safety of the kingdom, and the declaration thus concludes:—

"Therefore we pray your Majesty, for the cause of God, of His Church, this realm, ourselves, and yourself, that you will no longer be careless of your life and of our safety, nor longer suffer religion to be threatened, the realm to stand in danger, nor us to dwell in fear."

Elizabeth again made an ambiguous reply. From her subsequent conduct, however, we may judge that she had probably already determined to take Mary's life, although as to the time and place she was still undecided.

In the meantime Lord Buckhurst, together with Beale, Clerk of the Council, proceeded to Fotheringay to announce to the Queen of Scots that sentence of death had been pronounced against her in the star-chamber.

Lord Buckhurst had been carefully chosen for this mission. To much talent of a high order he united a moderation of views and a charm of manners calculated to inspire confidence. Nor was he a stranger to Mary; he had already been sent to treat with her on several occasions, and from the fact of his absence at the trial, we may suspect that his dispositions in her regard were friendly. If so, the undertaking now before him was doubly painful, for the announcement of the sentence of death was to be but a part of his duty.

Elizabeth still cherished the hope of extracting some confession or revelation from Mary; accordingly Lord Buckhurst was charged to be on the watch for any such revelation, to listen attentively to whatever the Queen of Scots might divulge, and to report such immediately to his mistress. Special instructions were sent at the same time to Paulet to lend his assistance to Lord Buckhurst, particularly should his prisoner consent to reveal any secret matter.

Lord Buckhurst reached the castle on the evening of the 29th of November, and after a conference with Paulet he returned to the village for the night.

On the following day, "after dinner," he, together with Paulet, Sir Drue Drury, and Beale, had an interview with Mary.

Lord Buckhurst announced himself as an envoy from his sovereign, and begged permission to deliver his message.

He then proceeded to recapitulate the events of the trial and its issue, proceeding to enlarge upon Elizabeth's sorrow at discovering that Mary had been proved to be "not only consenting to the horrible fact of rebellion in the country against her person and state, but also the author and inventor of it." For this reason, after much deliberation, Parliament had pronounced sentence of death against her. Buckhurst remarked that his mistress had not yet given her consent to this measure, but added that, urged as she was by Parliament, it was impossible she should not yield. "The person of the Queen, the state and religion are no longer safe," he continued; "it is impossible for you both to live, and therefore one must die. For this end then, in order that you should not be taken by surprise, Mr. Beale and I have been sent to warn you to prepare for death, and we will send you the Bishop of Peterborough or the Dean of ——[49] for your consolation; they both are men of learning and understanding. Take thought of your conscience and acknowledge your fault, repent and make satisfaction before God and man. If you know anything concerning this conspiracy further than what has already come to light, you are bound in Christian charity to unburden your conscience; being, as you yourself say, nearly related to the Queen, to whom also you are indebted for many favours. And if you know of any other persons who have taken part in this undertaking, it is your duty to declare it before your death."

"I expected nothing else," replied Mary calmly. "This is the manner in which you generally proceed with regard to persons of my quality, and who are nearly related to the Crown, so that none may live who aspire to it. For long I have known that you would bring me to this in the end. I have loved the Queen and the country, and have done all that I could for the preservation of both. The offers which I have made are the proof of this, as Beale can bear me witness. I do not fear death, and shall suffer it with a good heart. I have never been the author of any conspiracy to injure the Queen. I have several times been offered my freedom, and have been blamed for refusing my consent. My partisans have abandoned me and troubled themselves no further with my affairs. To prevent this I have attempted to obtain my deliverance by gentle means, to my great disadvantage, till at last, being repulsed on one side and pressed on the other, I placed myself in the hands of my friends, and have taken part with Christian and Catholic princes, not, as I have before declared, and as the English themselves can bear witness by the papers which they have in their possession, through ambition nor the desire of a greater position; but I have done it for the honour of God and His Church, and for my deliverance from the state of captivity and misery in which I was placed. I am a Catholic,—of a different religion from yourselves; and for this reason you will take care not to let me live. I am grieved that my death cannot be of as much benefit to the kingdom as I fear it will do it harm; and this I say not from any ill-feeling or from any desire to live. For my part, I am weary of being in this world; nor do I, or any one else, profit by my being here. But I look forward to a better life, and I thank God for giving me this grace of dying in His quarrel. No greater good can come to me in this world; it is what I have most begged of God and most wished for, as being the thing most honourable for myself and most profitable for the salvation of my soul. I have never had the intention of changing my religion for any earthly kingdom, or grandeur, or good, whatever, nor of denying Jesus Christ or His name, nor will I now. You may feel well assured that I shall die in this entire faith and with my goodwill, and as happy in doing so as I was ever for anything that has come to me in my life. I pray God to have mercy on the poor Catholics of this kingdom, who are persecuted and oppressed for their religion. The only thing I regret is, that it has not pleased God to give me before I die the grace to see them able to live in full liberty of conscience in the faith of their parents, in the Catholic Church, and serving God as they desire to do. I am not ignorant that for long certain persons have been plotting against me; and to speak plainly, I know well it has been done at the instance of one who professes to be my enemy. But I have spoken sufficiently of this before the Commissioners."

To this Lord Buckhurst replied that the person here alluded to had not mixed himself up in the matter more specially than the rest had done, and that he was esteemed a very good and faithful servant. He did not think that this person, nor even the greatest in the kingdom, had any special power to do anything either for her or against her, unless they were assembled in council.

Here Mr. Beale began to speak, and said that on his part he had somewhat to say to the Queen of Scots regarding the treaties and other matters which had occurred since she came into England, in which proceedings she had given trouble. On these points he could speak as having knowledge of what had occurred, having been employed in some of them as envoy between his mistress and Queen Mary. He then spoke of her taking refuge in England, asserting that his mistress had taken care of her and had caused her to be well received and treated, and had appeased her Scottish subjects who had sought to pursue her. Seeing Queen Mary's danger, his mistress had even arranged for her to retire to Carlisle, to be in greater safety.

"I was taken there by force and against my will," exclaimed Mary.

"It was for your good," retorted Beale.[50]

Lord Buckhurst and Beale now retired, nor does the former appear to have seen Mary again.

The Queen herself describes this interview in her correspondence, and we here give the passages that occur in her letter to the Archbishop of Glasgow, dated the 24th November:—[51]

After reading these words, which bear the vivid impress of Mary's steadfast faith, we are not surprised to hear that during her talk with Lord Buckhurst her face was illumined with an extraordinary joy at the thought that God had done her the honour to choose her as the instrument for the defence of the Catholic faith;[52] and we may imagine that Lord Buckhurst was capable of admiring, although he may not have sympathised with, her sentiments. Paulet took different views, and in a letter to Walsingham, in which he refers to the Queen's "superfluous and idle speeches on other occasions," he adds, "I am deceived if my Lord of Buckhurst will not give the same testimony of her tediousness."[53]