CHAPTER V

Queen Mary's letter to Mendoza the Spanish Ambassador informing him of the sentence of death, her submission to it, and her references to Paulet's treatment of her—Her letter to Mendoza, 21st May 1586—Her remarkable letter to the Archbishop of Glasgow asserting her innocence of every charge against her, and her rebuke to the commissioners “that she would die a Queen in spite of them”—Her letter to Elizabeth with her requests regarding her death and interment—The Commendator of Pittenweem and King James—Letter of Bellievre, Chancellor of France, to Mary, 14th December 1586—The graphic interview of Bellievre and Chateauneuf with Elizabeth, when they demanded of her with a threat to spare Mary's life, or take the consequences—Elizabeth loses her temper.

On the same day on which Queen Mary wrote to the Pope and to her uncle, the Duke of Guise, she also wrote to her devoted friends Don Bernard de Mendoza, the Spanish Ambassador, and the Archbishop of Glasgow. These letters, which we reproduce, were evidently written under deep emotion, and must have caused inexpressible grief to the friends who received them. There seems no doubt that Mary was quite estranged from her son for some time before her death. He was entirely under the control and in receipt of a pension from Elizabeth, which would account for it. Mary felt his conduct acutely; and not later than 21st May 1586 she wrote a private letter to the Spanish Ambassador (also given), in which her feelings on the subject are remarkably and excitedly expressed, even to the extent of handing her rights (if any) in the Scottish crown to the King of Spain, if her son continued in his present course of conduct. Mary has been taken to task for this letter by some of her enemies, who would make out, in defending her execution, that she sold the crown to the King of Spain. She wrote the letter in trying circumstances. The offer was simply to express how keenly she felt hurt by the behaviour of her son. There was nothing more in the letter than that. As a matter of fact, Mary had no rights in the crown to give away, but her enemies chose not to recognise this. We have not attempted to condense the two letters referred to—that to Mendoza and that to the Archbishop. They form a very important chapter in the last days of her life, and are letters that cannot be overlooked in surveying her history. A deliberate perusal of them will strengthen one's belief in the forgery of the letters in the appendix of this volume. The sentence we have put in italics in the letter to the Archbishop is a convincing proof of the Queen's innocence as regards the conspiracy against Elizabeth's life. We must remember that this was amongst the last letters she ever wrote, and after she had received sentence of death.


Queen Mary to Don Bernard de Mendoza, 23rd November 1586:—

“Having ever found you zealous in the cause of God, and desirous of my welfare and deliverance from captivity, I have always communicated to you my intentions upon that subject, begging you to make them known to the King my brother. For this reason I now write to bid you a last adieu, notwithstanding the little leisure I have, being about to receive the stroke of death which was announced to me on Saturday last, I do not know when or in what manner; but at least you may praise God for me that through His grace I have had the heart to receive this unjust sentence of heretics with resignation, on account of the happiness which I esteem it to shed my blood at the requisition of the enemies of His Church, who do me the honour to say that it cannot be subverted while I am alive, and also that their Queen cannot reign in safety in the same predicament. As for these two conditions I have accepted without contradiction the high honour they confer upon me as one most zealous for the Catholic religion, for which I have publicly offered my life; and as for the other, although I have never committed either act or deed tending to take off her who was on the throne, unless it be that they make a crime of my right to the crown, which is acknowledged by all Catholics, yet I would not contradict them, leaving them to think as they please. This annoyed them much, and they told me that whatever I may say or do, it will not be for the cause of religion that I shall die, but for having endeavoured to murder their Queen. This I denied as being utterly false, having never attempted any such thing, and leaving it to God and the Church to dispose of this island in what relates to religion. The bearer of this has promised to relate to you how rigorously I have been treated by those here and how ill served by others whom I did not expect to have shown so great a fear of death in so just a quarrel. They have not been able to draw anything from me but that I am a Queen, free, Catholic, and obedient to the Church, and that not being able to effect my deliverance by fair means, I was compelled to seek it by those which presented themselves. Nau then confessed all; Curle has in a great measure followed his example; so that everything turns against me. I am threatened if I do not beg pardon, but I say that 'As they had already destined me to die, they may proceed with their injustice, hoping that God will recompense me in another world;' and out of spite because I will speak, they came yesterday and took down my canopy, saying that I was no more than a dead woman and without any rank. They are at present working in my hall, erecting the scaffold, I suppose, whereon I am to perform the last act of this tragedy. I die in a just cause, and am happy in having made over my rights to the King your master. I have said that I consider him, should my son not return into the bosom of the Church, as being a prince most worthy to govern and protect this island. I have written to the same purpose to His Holiness, and I beg you to assure him that I die in the determination which I have communicated to you, and also another whom you know, to be his dearest and most intimate friend, and a fourth, and those above all others I bequeath to the protection of the King, beseeching him in God's name not to abandon them, and entreating them to serve him in place of me. As I cannot write to them, greet them in my name, and pray to God all of you for my soul. I have asked for a priest, but do not know if my request will be granted. They have offered me one of their bishops, but I positively refused him. You may believe all that the bearer of this shall tell you, and also those two poor girls who have been immediately about my person. They will tell you the truth, which I beg you to make public, as I fear that a very different interpretation will be given. Order a mass to be said for deliverance and repose of my soul—you know the place I mean—and let the churches in Spain remember me in their prayers. You will receive from me as a token of my remembrance a diamond which I have held very dear, having been given to me by the late Duke of Norfolk as a pledge of his troth, and I have always worn it as such; keep it for my sake. I do not know that I shall have leave to make a will. I have applied for it, but they have all my money. Excuse what I write in sorrow and trouble, not having anyone to help me to make my rough drafts and to write for me. If you cannot read my hand, the bearer will read it for you, or my Ambassador. Among other accusations, that of Crichton is one which I know nothing of. I fear greatly that Nau and Pasquier have hastened my death, having kept some papers; and they are men who will turn on any side for their own advantage. Once more, adieu. I recommend to you my poor and henceforth destitute servants, and pray for my soul. I recommend to you the Bishop of Ross, who will be wholly destitute?

Marie R.


Queen Mary to Mendoza, 21st May 1586:—

“I am in trouble as to what will be the course of events this side. Charles Paget is instructed by me to communicate some overtures on my behalf, concerning which I beg you to inform him without reserve what you think can be obtained from the King your master. There is another point connected with that which I have kept to write to you alone, that you may send word from me to your said lord the King without if possible anyone having knowledge of it. It is that, considering the very great obstinacy of my son in his heresy, I have determined, that in case he does not conform to the Catholic religion before my death—as I must tell you I have little hope of his doing so so long as he stays in Scotland—I yield and give up my right, by will at my decease, to this crown, to the King your master, begging him by means of this to quietly take beforehand under his complete protection both the State and affairs of this country, which for the clearing of my conscience I do not think I can put into the hands of a prince more zealous for our religion and more capable in every respect of re-establishing it this side, so as to be of great importance to the rest of Christianity. Let this be kept secret, more especially as if it came to be known it would mean in France the loss of my dowry, and in Scotland entire rupture with my son; in this country my utter ruin and destruction?

Marie R.


Queen Mary to the Archbishop of Glasgow, Fotheringay, 24th November 1586:—

“After having deferred for a long time on account of the imminent danger of the undertaker, at last I have consented to the proposition which has often been made to me to escape. You will hear what has happened from the doctor and other servants, who till now are left to me, I know not for how long, nor whether I can have leisure to make my will. And having that, I do not know if I shall have power, all my money and papers having been taken away, and having nobody to help me to write, although I have asked to have my almoner, that being more suitable if it could be done; but I have had no answer. If that is refused, will you entreat His Holiness, the most Christian King, the King of Spain, the Duke of Lorraine, and other Christian friends my relations, that my papers and money be restored, also the furniture which has not been distributed to my servants, in order that my conscience may be relieved towards my poor servants and creditors. You will find this language strange if you have not been told by Buckhurst, Amias Paulet, Drew Drury, and Beale, that the Assembly of Estates has condemned me to death, and they have declared it to me on the part of their Queen, exhorting me to confess and acknowledge my offences towards her. And in order to incite me to die well and patiently and to discharge my conscience, she proposed to send me a bishop and Dean, saying that her people have made constant requests for my death, considering that I being still alive and her rival, as it would appear by my having taken the name and arms of her crown, and not willing to give them up except on condition of being declared next heir to the throne, she could not live secure in her kingdom; also being called by the Catholics their Sovereign, her life had been so often attempted for this end, that so long as I live her religion was not secure in her kingdom. I thanked God and them for the honour they had done me in considering me such a necessary instrument for re-establishment of religion in this island, of which, although unworthy, I wished to consider myself a very zealous defender. In witness of which (as I had before protested) I offered voluntarily to shed my blood in the quarrel of the Catholic Church, and if the people thought that my life would help the welfare and peace of this island, I would not refuse to give it as a reward for the twenty years they have kept me prisoner. As to their bishops, I praise God that without them I know well enough my offences towards God and the Church, that I do not approve of their errors, and wish to have no communication with them. If it please them to allow me a Catholic priest, I said I would accept it willingly, even demanding it in the name of Jesus Christ in order to satisfy my conscience and participate in the holy sacraments on leaving this world. They told me I had done well, but do what I would I could not be either saint or martyr, as I was to die for conspiring against their Queen and for having wished to dispossess her. I answered that I was not so presuming as to aspire to these two honours, but whilst they had power over my body by divine permission, not by justice, I was a Sovereign Queen, as I had always protested. Still they had not power over my soul, nor could they prevent me from hoping that by the mercy of God who died for me He will accept from me my blood and my life, which I offer Him for the welfare of His Church. Besides, neither here nor elsewhere would I wish to rule over a worldly kingdom and thereby lose the eternal kingdom. And I shall beg of Him that the grief and other persecutions of mind and body which I suffer may be set against my sins. But to have conspired, counselled, or ordered Elizabeth's death, that I have never done; nor would I permit on my part that even one single blow [one snap of the fingers is the original] should be given her. Oh! said they, you have counselled and permitted the English to name you as their Sovereign, as appears by the letters to Alan, and Doctors Lewis and others, and this you have not contradicted; to which I answered that I had taken nothing upon myself in my letters, but hindering the doctors and ecclesiastics from naming me at their pleasure was not my province, being obedient to the Church, approving what she decreed but not correcting her. And I said the same in regard to His Holiness if, as they declared, he made me be prayed for everywhere under a title of which I was ignorant. In any case, I wished to die and to obey the Church, but not to murder anyone in order to possess his rights. In all this I saw clearly the pursuit of Saul against David, but I cannot escape like him by the window, although from the shedding of my blood protectors may arise for the sufferers in this general quarrel. In short, the day before yesterday Paulet returned with Drury much more modest than gracious, to tell me that, having been warned to prepare myself to confess my fault towards the Queen, I had shown no repentance nor feeling of my fault, and he had therefore commanded that they should take away my daïs in order to signify that I was a woman who had died without any honour or dignity as Queen. I answered that God had called me by His grace to this dignity, and I had been anointed and consecrated justly, and that from Him alone I held it, to Him alone should I render it with my soul; that I did not recognise their Queen as my superior nor her council and heretical assembly as my judges; that I should die Queen in spite of them, and that they had no more power over me than robbers at the corner of a wood had over the most just prince or earthly judge, but I hoped that God would show His justice after my death upon this kingdom. The kings of this country had often been murdered, and it would not be strange for me to be amongst them and those of their blood. King Richard had been treated thus in order to take away his rights. After these proposals, seeing that my servants would not lend a hand, all refusing boldly, even the poor girls crying aloud for vengeance upon him and his company, he called seven or eight satellites and destroyed the daïs, sat down and put on his hat, and informed me there would be no more time for exercise and pastime, and thereupon made them take away a billiard-table. I said thank God I have never used it since it was erected; I had always plenty of other occupations. I assembled yesterday my little troupe to repeat to them my protestation in respect of religion and the things they had laid to my charge, such as having distributed the estates, and other lies. Also I charged them all before God to tell you of all my behaviour and that of the others in this matter. I remit to Messieurs de Lorraine and de Guise, and all our relatives, everything necessary for the safety of my soul, the discharge of my conscience, and reparation of my honour, and that of those to whom I belong, which by my death they will put under their feet, not reproaching me alone but my cousin de Guise and all his relations for having given money for her death. I say, and it is true, that I know nothing of it and believe nothing of it.... I am content, and have always been, to give my life for the safety of the souls of this island. Adieu for the last time, and remember the soul and honour of her who has been your Queen, your mistress, and your friend, and if I have had any offence against you I pardon it, and beg of you and all my servants to pardon what I may have done amiss, just or unjust, protesting that I believe you guiltless in everything towards me, but you specially, as the principal and oldest of my servants. I feel myself obliged to recognise your services if God allowed me to live longer; failing that, I shall pray God to the end of my life to recompense you instead of me. May God be with you and with my servants whom I leave as my children.—Your affectionate and good mistress,

Marie R.


James Beton, Archbishop of Glasgow, Mary's devoted friend, was resident in France during the greater part of her captivity.

After the communication of the death-sentence Queen Mary employed her time in arranging her worldly affairs and in preparation for her removal. That was a task that was difficult of accomplishment, as she had estates in Scotland and in France, the actual extent of which we have no means of knowing, but we have reason to believe that they were in each case large and not easily handled. On account of the arrogant and obstreperous conduct of the English Queen, we have no assurance that any of Mary's final directions were attended to. An illustration of this conduct will serve our purpose, and this will best be understood by the reproduction of the following letter:—

Queen Mary to Elizabeth, November 1586:

“I thank God with all my heart that it has pleased Him through you to put an end to the troublesome pilgrimage of my life. I do not ask that it may be prolonged, for I have only had too much time to experience its bitterness. I only ask your Majesty, for I cannot expect any favour from those zealous ministers who hold the highest rank in England. It is only from you, and not from any other, that I expect the following favour:—First, I beg of you, as I cannot hope for a burial in England according to the Catholic rites practised by the ancient kings your ancestors and mine, and as in Scotland they have desecrated the ashes of my forefathers where my enemies wish to tarnish my innocent blood, that my body may be carried by my servants to be buried in some holy ground, preferably in France, where the bones of my honoured mother the Queen repose; so that this poor body, which has never had any peace since it was joined to my soul, may find it at last when the two are separated. Second, I beg your Majesty, because of the fear that I have of the tyranny of those to whom you have abandoned me, that I may not be executed in a secret place, but in the sight of my servants and others, who can witness my faith and obedience towards the true Church, and defend the end of my life and my last moments against the false reports that my enemies would circulate. Third, I require that my servants that have served me with so much grief and so much fidelity may freely retire where they will and enjoy the pittance that my poverty has left them in my will. I entreat of you, madam, by the blood of Jesus Christ, by our relationship, by the memory of Henry VII., our common father, and by the title of Queen which I bear to my death, that you will not refuse such reasonable demands, and that you will assure me by card from your own hand. Thereupon I die as I have lived, your affectionate sister and prisoner,

Marie R.


These humane requests were refused by Queen Elizabeth, and though the statement seems incredible, it is unfortunately too true. Such a proceeding throws a shadow of distrust over the entire conduct of Elizabeth towards Queen Mary.

The subject of the King and the release of his mother evidently occupied a good deal of attention immediately Mary's fate had been announced. One of the many communications on the subject was that of Robert Stewart to the Commendator of Pittenweem dated from Linlithgow, 27th November 1586:—

“I delivered your letter to His Majesty at Falkland, which letter and proposition was well received. He inquired the knowledge of the credit specified in the letter, which I would not at that time declare in respect that both the persons whom it touched were then present, but I told His Majesty that I had something to declare that concerned his welfare, which I should do when it pleased him. I attended several times, but could not find an opportunity until the report from His Majesty's mother came: how her Grace was accused and convicted for the conspiracy against the Queen of England. His opinion apparently was 'that she had done worse evil, and far beyond her honour and duty, and he could in no wise excuse her for that conspiracy.' He added, 'She is my mother, and I love her as well as any man may do his natural mother, albeit I must hate her actions deadly.' I discussed with him the power to sit and judge her according to their pleasure, as she, being a foreigner, was not subject to their laws. He said, 'Who could control the Queen of England's laws within her own country?' There is nothing apparently to be here but shame and ruin, except God help in time. It is concluded that the Queen shall die, but never while the King is living and at liberty. We look for nothing but to hear of her execution. The greatest part of the nobility lie out and is almost careless, looking for comfort where there is none. We are all in a miserable state; if there be any hope of help, haste in time, for he is not a Scotsman, though farthest in his relations with England, who would not hazard his life to relieve the Queen and desire the King to give them licence to that effect. The King believes that they dare do nothing to her. This is folly; if her release be not effected with great haste, she will take some sudden sickness, as ye will hear. Alas! my lord, we had some hopes after that parting to have had better news, but I perceive nothing but what your lordship knows. I dare not write what I would; I would rather be dead than aye dying. At her best what help is the Queen to us; we shall come and seek it of you. As for the noblemen you left last in the country, they believe you are either dead or have altered your opinion; we work that we may win, and we work well for it.”


This letter is given as one of the few communications that have been preserved as coming from Scotland during this period. Whether the people of Scotland were silent respecting the extraordinary persecution of their Sovereign, or whether their protests against Queen Mary's treatment have not been recorded, it is impossible now to say. Their protests are conspicuous by their absence. By far the best remonstrance with Elizabeth on Mary's behalf was made by Bellievre and Chateauneuf, Ambassadors to Henry III. At their interview we have a graphic picture of Elizabeth and a side-light into her cruel disposition. How she takes God's name in vain, when she knows she is not telling the truth, is a scandalous act and an act of perjury. At that time Walsingham's interpolations would be imperfectly known outside the court, and that would very probably induce her to speak as she did. “It was impossible to save her own life and preserve that of the Scottish Queen.” The narrative of this interview is one of the most important papers we possess relating to the last days of the Scottish Queen. It would appear that the French Government sent over to England Bellievre as an Ambassador extraordinary with express orders to look after the Queen of Scots. Chateauneuf wrote asking him to hasten his journey in case the Queen of Scots should be murdered before his arrival. An audience was arranged with Elizabeth, and it took place on Sunday, 25th November, Bellievre being accompanied by Chateauneuf. Elizabeth received them with extraordinary pomp. She was seated upon her throne, the lords and officers being assembled around her in order of rank, forming altogether a brilliant spectacle. Bellievre then made his speech. “The enemies of the Queen of Scots,” said he, “spread a doleful report among your people that the existence of the Queen is your ruin, and that your two lives cannot go on together in this same kingdom.... It seems as if the authors of that statement wish to attribute all to the counsel of men and leave nothing to God's providence.... If some Catholic princes resolve to attack your kingdom, it will not be to save the Queen of Scots, but to uphold religion. Though the Queen of Scots be taken away from this world, the cause of war is not removed, but rather the occasion for it increased and the pretext for war made more specious than before, to avenge an act so strange and so extraordinary committed against all worldly laws, against a sovereign princess, a Queen anointed and held sacred in the Church of God. If you put the Queen of Scots to death, as some advise you, her death will arm your enemies with despair and with an honest excuse for attempting against you all that may lie in their power to avenge the outrage.” After showing Elizabeth that she ran a great risk in using rigorous measures, he asked her to ensure Mary's safety, in the name of the Queen-mother, the King of France, and the reigning Queen, in extremely tender and touching terms. “Madam,” continued he, “you can greatly oblige us all by the resolution it may please you to take in the case of the noble princess who has been our Queen, and your Majesty is sure to earn our lasting thanks if, instead of handing her over to the evils with which she is threatened, you tender her a generous treatment.” Elizabeth replied, “That she much regretted that persons of their quality should have been chosen to negotiate so thankless an affair, but that her resolution was taken; and that at a later period the patience she had shown to the Queen of Scots would be appreciated, and the justice of her conduct recognised; and that, besides, she had been for some time past aware of the stories which people took the trouble to tell her, but that those noble examples could not induce her to change her purpose. She took leave of the Ambassadors, telling them that she put her faith in God, and that with His grace, poor woman as she was, she should overcome her enemies.” Sentence against Queen Mary was officially announced in London on 6th December, and by command the bells were rung for twenty-four hours without ceasing. This command was from the Queen of England, and need surprise no one after the proceedings we have narrated. Fires were kindled under the windows of the French Embassy amid the hootings of the mob. That affront roused the indignation of Bellievre. He asked Elizabeth to give him time to inform the King of France what was going on. She refused to receive the letter, and sent it to Walsingham. Three days later Bellievre received verbally the assurance that Mary would get a respite of twelve days. Henry III., on being informed, empowered Bellievre to try all means which prudence might suggest to bring Elizabeth to sentiments more befitting humanity. Bellievre requested another interview, which was granted. He then put forward the wishes of Henry III. regarding Mary, and his grief on learning that the Queen of England was so unkind to her illustrious prisoner. He denied that Mary was under the jurisdiction of Elizabeth, and reflected on the unseemly way in which she had been treated. This noble princess “is so humbled and trodden underfoot that her greatest enemies ought to pity her, and therefore I plead for some clemency and kindness towards her at your Majesty's hands. What now remains for the Queen of Scots but a wretched life of a few short days! If she is innocent, she ought to be discharged. If you hold her guilty, it would be honourable and noble in you to pardon her. When your Majesty does so, then shall you do what princes are wont to do.... Those who wish to reign well and happily had better imprint on the table of their memory the sacred words, 'Thou shalt not kill.' Blood calls for blood, and such doings often bring about a sad end.” These eloquent words had no effect, and he then addressed threatening words, which aroused her. “Monsieur Bellievre,” cried she angrily, “are you charged by the King my brother to address me thus?” “Yes, madam, I have His Majesty's express commands to that effect.” “Have you that power signed by his hand?” “Yes, madam; the King my master has expressly commanded me and charged me by letter, signed by his own hand, to address to you remonstrances.” “I ask from you as much signed by your hand,” added she. Bellievre handed it to her at once, and immediately retired. He then prepared for his return to France, taking home with him only disgust at the course of events, and bitterly regretting that he had not been able to save the Queen of Scots. [14] This report of this famous interview gives us the substance of what was so eloquently said by the French Ambassador.

BELLIEVRE,
The French Ambassador who Silenced Queen Elizabeth.
(By permission of Braun, Clément & Cie.)

In the following condensed narrative, [15] which is an extract from the official despatch of Bellievre to Henry III., we get the words of Elizabeth in brief, at both interviews:—“She burst into invectives against the Queen of Scots, recounting the evil that she had received from her and the good offices she had rendered her; that she had been compelled to come to the resolution that had been taken because it was impossible to save her own life and preserve that of the Scottish Queen; and that if we knew any means whereby she could find security for herself in preserving the Queen of Scots, she would be under great obligations to us, never having shed so many tears at the death of her father, of her brother King Edward, and of her sister Mary, as she had done over this unfortunate affair. The day before this audience Lord Buckhurst was sent to Fotheringay to announce the sentence of death to the Scottish Queen, and it has been said many times in London (though falsely) that they had already put the Queen to death.... Elizabeth gave another audience on the appointed day, Monday. We repeated the same prayer with all the urgency possible, and spoke in such a manner that we could not be heard except by her principal counsellors. But she rejoined in so loud a tone that we were put in pain because we were using prayer (as necessity required), and by her answer we could not but understand that our plaint was refused. Then lowering her voice she told us that she would wish us to be well advised, desiring the good of your Majesty, and that you could not do better than give shortly a good peace to your subjects, otherwise she could foresee great injury to your realm, which a great number of foreigners would enter in such sort that it would not be very easy to find a remedy for the evil. She returned to the subject of the Queen of Scots, saying that 'she had given us several days to consider of some means whereby she could preserve that princess's life without being in danger of losing her own; and not being yet satisfied on that point, nor having found any other expedient, she could not be cruel against herself; and that your Majesty ought not to consider it just that she, who is innocent, should die, and that the Queen of Scots, who is guilty, should be saved.' Two day afterwards Elizabeth informed us, after a long discussion, the reason which had moved them to proceed to this judgment, that 'out of the respect she had for your Majesty she would grant a delay of twelve days before proceeding to the execution of the sentence, conditionally that nothing in the interim should be attempted against her which might move her to alter her mind.' We informed her that if she put to death the Queen of Scots the King her son was determined to renounce all friendship and alliance that he had with England and to advise with his friends how he shall proceed in her cause; at which she put herself into a great fury. Your Majesty will be pleased to consider if there be not some way through your favour and authority whereby there may be a hope of saving her life, of which may it please you to let us understand within the said term your goodwill and pleasure.”


This despatch is worthy of the admiration of posterity, and may be regarded as the production of one who was not only a highly capable Ambassador, but probably of all the men who aided Mary in her last hours he was the most influential, the most determined and earnest, and the most courageous. Who was there of all Mary's friends and supporters who could attack single-handed the lioness in her den as he did? His brilliant interview, the irresistible force of his eloquence, his contemptuous disregard of her royalty, his plain speaking, and his remonstrating with her as to her unlawful and cruel treatment of Mary, roused the ire of Elizabeth into a pitch of hysterical excitement, and her screaming interrogatives to the Ambassador were heard over the entire body of the hall. The flashes of wit and ready resources of Bellievre shown in his sarcastic replies were characteristic of the vivid intellect of a French statesman.

Bellievre's last communication to Queen Mary, London, 14th December 1586:—

“As it has pleased the King to send me here to inform the Queen of England how greatly obliged he would be if, in this unfortunate matter which has happened to your Majesty, it might be her good pleasure to treat you with that kindness and humanity that he, his kingdom, and the other princes and States of Christendom would expect from so wise and virtuous a princess, I have set aside everything in order to obey his commands and to do the service that I wish to do to your Majesty, whom I have so long venerated, as the wife of my King, and as my Queen. I should desire above everything in the world that it had pleased God that this princess to whom I had spoken on your behalf would have honoured me with a satisfactory answer. I assure you, madam, of the very good and cordial will of the King towards you, of the Queen, her mother and yours, and of the reigning Queen, who all suffer extreme pain on your account; while they have written to the Queen of England with as much affection as if it were a question of their own lives. I should hope that this princess, being so wise, so magnanimous, and so well advised, would not allow the prayers of persons so great and so interested in your preservation to be made in vain. Nothing is done in this world without the permission of God, whose anger we cannot better appease than by the exercise of a holy and Christian patience. God permits us to be abandoned by all men when for our greater good He desires that we may have all our succour from Him. 'When we know not what to do,' says St. Bernard, 'to whom should we turn if it is not to thee, O our God!' He is not willing that we should be lost, and is able to give us in the future more consolation in one hour than the afflictions we have experienced during our whole life. If you think the Queen of England has not loved you, who knows that from this time it may please God to soften her heart towards you? ... It will be by God's grace that her good nature will soften her. It will be her generosity that will conquer and force her to love you, to take you under her protection, and join herself to you by the indissoluble ties of a good, happy, and perpetual friendship.”


This letter seems to have been written when the Ambassador could in reality do no more for the unfortunate Queen.