Mary prohibited from writing Elizabeth—She surrenders her life to God, and is willing to die—Paulet still insolent—The Queen remonstrates with him—She thinks they will murder her secretly—Denied the use of a priest—Paulet resents secret murder—Mary's dignities—The daïs and rod discontinued—Paulet and Melville quarrel—Arrival of the Sheriff and the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury—She receives them in her bedchamber—Shrewsbury announces sentence of death; to take place next morning—Mary's calm and pathetic reply—Takes leave of her servants: gives them her blessing and distributes presents to them—She writes her will—Names of those to be present at her death—Her last words and the scene of execution as recorded by Bourgoyne—Author's summing up and conclusion.
“Sunday, 22nd January 1587.—Her Majesty sent Bourgoyne to tell Paulet that on the report that he had made she wished to speak to him but it was too late, and she wished it to be taken to him to think over it (I think she feared I would be detained like the others). Bourgoyne said to Paulet that Her Majesty found the manner of proceeding towards her very strange: that she, preparing for death, had wished to write to the Queen, as had been allowed, even invited by Buckhurst and Beale, and again allowed by him; that she had given him a letter with the promise and assurance to keep it safely, in which she had treated of nothing which could hurt anyone, neither of business, nor of things concerning the country, nor the State, nor the person of the Queen; that it was not even to obtain favour, nor pardon, nor escape, having resolved to offer her body and her life gratefully, and with great contentment, for the cause of God and His Church, for which she was ready to die and shed her blood—not esteeming herself worthy to do this, as she had many times protested; she had only written about her Will, as much for her Will as her funeral, which it was necessary to do in the religion which she professed. She had received no answer, at which she was not only astonished, but she was not sure that the Queen had received her letter; consequently she had prepared another, but he had refused to send it; and although he had promised to write to the Court, to see if she could send the letter, which was ready, she did not yet know if she could send it. He said he had permission, and had sent the Queen's letter; that it did not follow though he had permission once, he had permission always. He assured her that Elizabeth had received her letter, but he had received no answer, and therefore could not give her one. He would never presume to inquire what the Queen had written—it was all one to him, and he was not the man to keep back letters if he had got them; and pressed to say if he had been prohibited from allowing her to write, answered that he had already said he had no orders to send her letters. On the second point he was told she was in great trouble to know the reason why she was separated from her two servants. The Queen of England had sent her a priest to prepare her for death and give consolation, and now, when it was more than ever necessary, they had taken him away; that having asked him to assist at her last end, when she was nearest to her death, she was deprived of him. There were none so criminal that they did not give them a minister of their religion to conduct them to execution and console them, and all the consolation she now had in her affliction in captivity came from her religion. She regretted infinitely not to be able to make her prayers to her contentment, assist at the Mass, and do the duties of a good Christian. The Queen had promised not to trouble her in her religion, and said it was not for religion they accused her. Her priest harmed no one, mingled in nothing but saying the prayers; it would have been better not to have offered his services than to take him away in her great extremity. She could see that, not content with afflicting her body, they tried if that were possible to make her lose her soul, which could not be. She had such hope in God, that He would help her in this, as He had done before. She saw that their intentions were to take away her servants, one after the other; carry her away secretly from here, to make her die at their pleasure or murder her secretly.
“This she did not regret, as having no consolation near her as she had hoped. She could do nothing without her papers, and she required a priest to assist and communicate with her. They might leave her this consolation seeing they had got everything they could desire as against the greatest enemy that could be found. One could do nothing more grievous than take away life. The rest is not only cruelty, it is inhuman and is denounced even by the wickedest of people. Paulet said that he did not think Her Majesty wished to have her priest near her, but he could assure her that he was not far away. He was neither in France nor in Scotland, nor out of the house; and he saw no reason why she might not have him when necessary. When he heard of Her Majesty being massacred or killed secretly he indignantly protested that there was no danger of such an outrage, and they had no right to suspect him of such a thing. Bourgoyne said there was no idea of such a charge against him. Paulet said there was no more danger for Her Majesty than for his wife, his children, or himself. As for him, he was not the man to do such an act, and was indignant that he should be suspected of such a thing, for he was an honest man and a gentleman. He would not take such dishonour upon himself as to exercise such cruelty or behave like a Turk. Upon which they said that perhaps they did not mistrust him, but there were many people in England who were enemies of Her Majesty, and whom she suspected much, and whom she knew would spare nothing to do her harm. It was principally those that she feared. Then she complained that her steward had been taken from her, and wanted to know the reason; if he had done anything injurious to anyone which might concern Elizabeth. They, without her having asked him, had offered him to her. He was of their own religion, and she did not think he could have done them any harm. Paulet said Melville was an honest man; that he was not separated because he had offended Her Majesty nor done anything on his own account, but there were certain reasons, and it had to be done. At last Bourgoyne said Her Majesty feared to send anyone, as they might be detained one after the other. Paulet said she must not anticipate that as all her servants were in the house, and he thought she need not vex herself about it.
“Monday, 23rd January.—Melville got leave to speak to Paulet. Before this he had not been allowed to do so, although he had asked for it. We were full of suspicion and fear until the evening of the same day about five p.m., when the porter came to Her Majesty's chief baker to say that he must not carry the rod before Her Majesty's dinner. Upon which the Queen was very much astonished and thought of sending to ask the cause; but Paulet would receive nobody, saying it was too late. Next day he would hear them. If it was because he had prohibited the carrying of the rod it would be useless, as it should have been prohibited when Melville was taken away.
“Tuesday, 24th January.—Her Majesty sent Bourgoyne to say to Paulet that she had so far got over the fear about her life and murder because of his disposition towards her. Having been warned of his new prohibitions, she had come back to the same doubt, as she could not but think they were doing it with the intention of taking away from her all conveniences and state and dignity, the more easily to accomplish their evil designs. She was much astonished that he would forbid a thing of so little consequence, that could neither hurt nor profit anyone. He could prohibit her servants as he pleased from doing her any honour, but he had been warned not to prevent them from doing their duty, as they had sworn to do, to Her Majesty's pleasure. He had no authority over them, especially touching their service. Paulet said Her Majesty did herself great wrong, and did wrong to the Queen and State of England, to the Council and to himself, to suppose that they would undertake anything so unworthy and so outrageous as to kill her either by night or by day, stab or massacre her secretly or suddenly. This touched him to the heart to hear such a speech, and displeased him to think that he could commit such an act of butchery, or permit it to be done. They had talked enough about that the day before; Her Majesty was a woman of reason, of great mind, and practical, and he wondered she would torment herself about this. She knew they had taken away her daïs, her steward, and her priest, and now she took offence at a trifle, for having taken away the rod they carried before her at meals. She was wrong, being attainted and a convicted and condemned woman. Bourgoyne said she had cause to be angry, seeing they showed such ill-will for a thing of so little consequence, and she remembered they had done the same to King Richard, whom they had degraded from all honour and dignity. He was suddenly put to death, murdered in a moment, and she feared the same thing might be done to her. Immediately Paulet flew into a rage and said they must not bring him such unworthy messages, and that Bourgoyne had invented them. Bourgoyne said he only repeated the Queen's words, and neither added to them nor diminished them. After much discussion they separated.
“Friday, 3rd February.—Melville asked to speak to Paulet, but was refused. Paulet said if he came on the part of the Queen, he could not speak to him, being separated. If he came on his own account, he could tell the porter. He also refused to allow him to write, for the same reason. Upon his wishing to know if he had offended his mistress or Paulet, or why they kept him apart, might he have his letters delivered to him, or might he be allowed to return to Her Majesty, or go back to his own country. It would be easier to go to the kitchen to communicate with the Queen's women by the window of the hall, where he might also see the Queen. He wished also to be better lodged, being one of two in one chamber. He was answered that he had offended no one; he would have his letters in due time, and they would see about his lodging; for the rest, nothing could be changed.
“Saturday, 4th February 1587.—Her Majesty sent Bourgoyne to say she was ill, and to beg Paulet to allow him to go out and gather herbs in some of the adjoining gardens. Paulet said she would get everything she wished if she put it in writing; and being pressed by Bourgoyne to allow him to go, said he could not answer to this, but must communicate with Drury, and on Monday he would have his reply. Paulet being pressed not to delay for fear Her Majesty might get seriously ill, and it was necessary that the remedy should be given her to-morrow. Immediately after Bourgoyne left, Paulet sent to say he could go if he wished, although he thought it was imprudent. Bourgoyne and the apothecary went to gather the herbs, and the Queen began her cure next day.
“Monday, 6th February.—The Dean of Peterborough and some others dined with Paulet. After dinner, Beale arrived alone, consulted with Paulet, and then returned to the village.
“Tuesday, 7th February.—Several arrived, amongst whom was the Sheriff, as we thought; after dinner the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury, at whose coming we were greatly astonished and in great fear, having for three days imagined all kinds of things as to Her Majesty's end, fearing the blow was certain. They sent asking an audience of her. She answered that she was in bed, but if they were much pressed she would get up if they gave her a little time. After hearing that it was of great importance, she prepared to receive them in her chamber, at the foot of her bed, namely, the two earls, with Beale, Paulet, and Drury (Shrewsbury with head uncovered), together with the others, who did not uncover all the time they spoke to her. Shrewsbury began to say that Elizabeth had sent them to tell her that after having acted honourably in her affairs of which she was accused, and found guilty and therefore condemned, he had been sent by the Queen in order that she might hear her sentence read. He, Kent, and Beale had been commissioned to put it into execution. Thereupon Beale commenced to read a writing on parchment with the Great Seal of England and yellow wax hanging therefrom, in which Her Majesty was named “Marie Stuart, daughter of James V., formerly called Queen of Scotland and Dowager of France,” etc. This being read, Her Majesty firmly, and without emotion, answered that she thanked them for news so welcome; that they did her a great benefit in retiring her from this world, with which she was quite content because of the misery she saw in it, being in continual affliction, and of no use or profit to anyone. She had long expected this, and had waited for it from day to day for eighteen years. She was Queen born and Queen anointed, near relation to the Queen of England, granddaughter of Henry VII., and had had the honour to be Queen of France. Throughout her life she had only had misfortune, and she was very glad that it had pleased God, by their means, to take her away from so many troubles; she was ready and willing to shed her blood in the cause of God, her Saviour, her Creator, as also the Catholic Church, for the maintenance of which she had always done what was possible; loving the Queen her good sister and the island as dearly as herself, as she had often shown, having offered in every way to take order, so that everything should come to a good issue and be arranged peacefully. She had always been rejected, thrust back—held prisoner without having merited it, having come of her own free will into the country in hope of succour. With the Queen she was in full agreement, and might have arranged everything so that each would have been content if she had been allowed an interview. And at last Her Majesty swore on the Bible, which she had near her, that she had neither sought nor attempted the death of the Queen nor of any other person. She was told by Shrewsbury and Kent that this Bible was the version of the Pope, and therefore it did not count. She was offered the Dean of Peterborough for her consolation, by whom she could learn what was the true religion, for her salvation. They said she had always remained in what they taught her in her youth, and that she had continued in that, because no one had led her to know the truth; and now it was time, when she had but a few hours to remain in this world, that she should recognise the true religion, and remain no longer in these follies of popery and abomination; that they had the true word of God; that she could make comparison when she had spoken with the minister—she could choose afterwards; that they spoke in a good conscience, desiring that she should be right at her death, and be converted to God. Her Majesty said she had been a long time instructed and well versed in her religion; she knew well what she ought to know for her salvation and conscience; she had not only read and heard the wisest men of the Catholic religion, but also those of the Protestant; she had communicated with them and heard them preach, but had heard nothing which could in the least turn her from her first faith; that having come into this country to the dwelling of Lord Shrewsbury, to please everyone and show that she only acted for her conscience, she had heard the ablest of their preachers for a whole Lent. At last she gave it up, which Lord Shrewsbury confirmed, asking her to continue. She found no edification; having lived till now in the true religion, it was not the time to change. Now she must remain firm and constant, as she intended to do; and rather than fail she would lose ten thousand lives, if she had them, shed her blood, and endure the tortures which they could inflict. Therefore, in order to console her, would they let her see her priest, to prepare her for death: it was all she wished for. They told her that could not be; it was against their conscience, which would accuse them if they did so, knowing that it was against God and their religion; that, as much as possible, they should hinder and take away such abominations, which offended God and their consciences; but she would be allowed to see a minister. Her Majesty said she would do nothing of the kind, and would have nothing to do with him; she wished neither to see nor hear him, and they need not trouble themselves any more trying to persuade her, for she saw they wished her to lose both body and soul. She hoped God would have mercy on her. She was already prepared, and He who knew her heart would pardon her. She was astonished that at the end they denied those things which the Queen had granted her; they had taken her priest, and when he became more necessary they denied him to her, a thing that was very cruel. It was told her that they did not know who had granted her a priest, but it would be a burden on their conscience if they allowed him to come to her. And intermingled with much conversation, it was told her as to her condemnation that it was found she could not live without danger to the life of the Queen and of religion, and that of all those who were occupied with her there was not one who could show the contrary. She complaining of her son, they said he had done his duty, and she must die in charity. She said she pardoned everybody and accused nobody, but in God's cause she could follow the example of David: pray God to confound and punish his enemies, and pardon her sins. At last, being pressed to see the minister, she asked when she must die; the answer was, to-morrow, about eight o'clock in the morning. She again asked for her priest, and said she could not make her Will, not having received her papers, for which she had written, and made Paulet write that there was nothing which could be of any use to Elizabeth. She wanted to arrange with her treasurer, and not to disappoint her other servants. They told her that Wade, who had them, was in France. Then Her Majesty asked about her burial. They told her she could not be buried in France. As to her servants, they had no orders, but they saw nothing that would hinder them from doing as she desired, and have their gifts. She asked where her servants were, and what had become of Nau. They said they did not know. She asked if she was to die, and he be saved. They said they did not know, but he had not escaped. Her Majesty said she would die for the life of him who accused her and caused her death to save himself; then she was told she was no longer in the hands of Paulet, but that the earls, from now, would give her in charge to him, to deliver her up when they came.
“Then the servants of Her Majesty, crying out in tears, said the time was too short to arrange her affairs—one night was not enough; she would leave her servants destitute of all means, and to have pity upon them; that it seemed by their commission they had power to make the execution when they would—would it please them to defer it for a little time? The answer was that it could not be so. Her Majesty sent for her servants after supper, gave them a lecture on charity between themselves, and took leave of them in a long speech, giving them pardon for all, begged of them to pray God for her, admonished each in particular, requesting them to live in friendship among themselves, and to give over all past enmity and ill-will, showing how much reason, wisdom, and constancy she had. Then she parted her clothes among them, to each something, as conveniently as she could. In the night, after having slept some hours, she wrote her last Will, as fully as she could, and for the little time that she had gave orders for her movables, for the journey of her servants, and distributed to each some money, according to her will.
“In the morning, she admonished anew her servants, and then remained in prayer until the Sheriff arrived about nine o'clock, who led her away without allowing any of her servants to follow her. At the foot of the steps she found Melville, who took leave of her kneeling, who showed how difficult such an adieu was to support, and grieved that he must see such a spectacle after being so long separated from her. Her Majesty had asked the day before that Paulet would allow Melville to come before her death. At her earnest request they allowed Melville, Bourgoyne, Jervis, Gourgon, Didier, Jane Kennedy, and Elspeth Curle to be present, at which, by the witness of all, she showed her great and royal courage, her constancy, above all her firmness to her religion and piety. After having spoken some words to those of whom she had spoken the day before to the lords, Her Majesty refused flatly to hear the minister, who insisted. She protested more zealously than ever, prayed to God apart in Latin, while the Dean did so according to his religion. After a few words Her Majesty recommended her servants to the Lords, and then gave them her benediction, prayed anew, moving everyone to pity, until, standing up, she made her two maids take off her veil, her mantle with train, and her stomacher, begging of them not to weep. Then anew she knelt down, holding her hands to heaven, holding the crucifix of wood which she had carried from her chamber, and did not release it until the end; made her eyes be bandaged by her maids, and without any other bands raised her head and extended her neck, which she kept quite rigid, and praying, waited the blow without any movement. As long as she could speak she repeated with a loud voice the words, 'In manus tuus domine commendo' ('Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit'), and immediately her spirit passed away, and the Queen of Scots was delivered from all her cares.”
Bourgoyne adds nothing more. There can be no doubt that the cruel and inhuman conduct of Elizabeth, Walsingham, and Paulet, of which he had been so long an eye-witness, had fairly overwhelmed him with grief, and the last tragic scene had prevented him adding another word. This Journal can never be disregarded as a great factor in the consideration of Mary's unfortunate career, and particularly regarding her relations with Elizabeth and her position in the Babington Conspiracy.
Conclusion
It is difficult to read this Journal without emotion, more particularly when we think that the Royal victim had committed no crime and was absolutely innocent of any plot affecting the life of the Queen of England. After the kidnapping outrage her execution was clearly decided upon in the mind of Elizabeth, and it would have been better to have had the execution then than to have tormented Mary for another six months. No sooner was this outrage completed than the first step towards the death of Mary was taken, under date 13th September, as recorded by Bourgoyne, when her personal servants, part of her household, were separated from her by force, and they never saw her again. On the 9th October following the remainder were separated from her in the same offensive way, and only her four maids of honour were left to attend her.
Four days after this the commissioners arrived from London to undertake the trial, which lasted three days, a trial that was remarkable for its illegal procedure:—
(a) By refusing to permit the accused to be defended by counsel.
(b) Compelling the accused to defend herself.
(c) Refusing to surrender to the accused her own papers to enable her to make her defence; which papers were surreptitiously seized by Elizabeth's order some time previously.
(d) For having its decision “cut and dry” before the trial took place.
These points have all been proved up to the hilt. The trial was undoubtedly the greatest farce in English history, and we think would be very generally denounced by the English people as an outrage on their national honour and an event that materially affected the prestige of their country. Had the vilest criminal been sentenced to death he would have been treated with indulgence and kindness up to his execution. Not so Queen Mary. In the estimation of Elizabeth no amount of torture was too much to administer, and she compelled it to be administered. It is evident from the record that Paulet had carte blanche after the sentence to treat her with greater severity than ever.
On the 19th November she wished to send a letter to Elizabeth respecting her will and arrangements for her funeral, and on Paulet being asked to forward it he replied that “he must first read it before it was sealed, as she (Queen Mary) might put something within of which he wished to be assured because of his mistress.” On 19th December Paulet was so insolent as to warn her “that it was her duty to thank the Queen (Elizabeth) for favours since her arrival in England and since, as she was much indebted to her!” On 12th January Paulet informed her that he could send no letters of hers to the Court without being authorised to do so. Mary wished to know if he had letters prohibiting him from sending her letters, but he replied that he could not answer particular questions; and so the torture of the poor captive was carried on from day to day.
On 20th January Paulet informed Sir Andrew Melville that he must leave his mistress and appear no more before her. Melville was the master of her household, and probably her most devoted and faithful friend and counsellor. The separation of Melville was the greatest calamity that could have befallen her. Thus they deprived her of the services of her priest and also of her steward, and on 23rd January Paulet's porter informed her chief baker that he must no longer carry the rod before dinner; the rod was an emblem of royal dignity. Mary remonstrated with Paulet, stating that it would neither hurt nor profit anyone; but Paulet was immovable, and Mary had to stand the insult.
On 4th February, four days before the execution, Mary was ill, and her physician recommended herbs from the garden to cure her trouble. It will scarcely be credited that Paulet in a brutal manner refused to allow the herbs to be gathered—but afterwards he consented. All this persecution was by order of the Queen of England. Why, it may naturally be asked, was the Queen of Scots tortured in this manner after she had been tried and condemned and sentence of death pronounced? Surely her condemnation might have satisfied Elizabeth without resorting to those miserable tactics—cruelly insulting her and killing her by inches. Paulet, who was an uneducated man, was capable of administering the coarsest treatment, in all which he was supported by his mistress and received from her many expressions of gratitude for carrying out her wishes and keeping the Queen of Scots in constant misery. We may well ask, Was Elizabeth a woman, or was she a fiend in human form?
On 7th February, the day before the execution, the Earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, and Beale, Drury, and Paulet, desired an interview with her, but she was ill and in bed. They, however, insisted on seeing her, and were reluctantly admitted, Shrewsbury being the only one who had the common decency to uncover his head. What these rude and uncultivated men, all foes of hers, wanted was simply to read the death-sentence, which, had they been gentlemen, any two of them might have read the paper and the others remained outside; or, considering their errand, they might have had as much consideration for the Queen as to wait till she got up and dressed. This document showed the cloven foot of Elizabeth. It described Mary as “formerly Queen of Scotland and Dowager of France,” which was an insulting reference; and her crime was that she had attempted to assassinate Elizabeth. When the paper was read Mary swore on the Bible that she had never sought, nor attempted to seek, the life of Elizabeth. In place of receiving this in solemn silence, seeing they had no authority to discuss anything with her, they with incredible insolence informed her that her Bible was the Pope's version and not binding. They offered her the Dean of Peterborough for consolation, “from whom she would learn what was the true religion, that she might no longer remain in the follies of Papistry and abomination.” The offer she rejected with scorn. On being informed that she was to die the following morning, she requested that her priest might help her to make her will; also that she wished to be buried in France. Both requests were refused, whether with or without Elizabeth's knowledge is not recorded. It was a disgraceful incident to all concerned.
And so we have arrived at the close of this great tragedy, and the spirit of the Queen of Scots has gone for ever beyond the jurisdiction of its royal persecutor. Mary's reputation has been dragged through the mire, and every effort made by adverse critics to slander her fair fame, but no authentic proof has been produced against her, no proof that will stand investigation. Her traducers have been compelled to fall back on forged or fabricated documents, and these have been freely put before us with the view of influencing the public mind against her.
It is evident from the most careful research that there is no authentic evidence to connect her either with the Darnley murder, the Casket Letters, or the Babington Conspiracy, while the Bothwell marriage was by the Ainslie Bond compulsory. Her life was full of trouble, and her last days were made bitter by suffering and distress. Can we wonder, after perusing Bourgoyne's Journal, that Mary Stuart regarded the scaffold with feelings of gratitude, and rejoiced that her captivity was at last concluded?