“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]

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]

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?'"

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.

"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.

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]

"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."

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.

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.

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]

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]

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]

"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]

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]

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:—

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]

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.

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."

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.