Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 ICaurcnr* ^.. 
 
 DUBLIN. 
 
 VNN. OF CM IF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGEUE9

 
 CDnmas 
 
 CELEBRATED CRIMES 
 
 VOLUME IV
 
 EDITIONS 
 
 LIBRARY EDITION, printed on specially -manufactured 
 ribbed paper with deckle edges, illustrated with photo- 
 gravures in one state. 
 
 IMPERIAL JAPAN LIBRARY EDITION, printed 
 throughout on Japanese vellum, with photogravures in 
 two states. Limited to WO numbered, copies. 
 
 LARGE PAPER JAPAN LIBRARY EDITION, 
 printed throughout upon stout Japanese vellum, with photo- 
 gravures in two states. Limited to 25 numbered copies.
 
 , 
 
 s 
 
 X 
 
 * 
 X
 
 CELEBRATED CRIMES 
 
 TRANSLATED 
 
 BY I. G. BURNHAM 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAVURES 
 
 ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY DE Los Rios, PRODHOMME 
 WAGREZ, ETC. 
 
 VOLUME IV 
 
 H. S. NICHOLS 
 
 3 SOHO SQUARE AND 62A PICCADILLY 
 LONDON, W. 
 
 1895 
 (All rights reserved)
 
 Entered at Stationers' 1 Hall. 1895. 
 
 H. S. NICHOLS. PRINTER, 3 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON. W.
 
 STACK ANNEX 
 
 HV 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. IV. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 MARY STUABT 1
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 VOL. IV. 
 
 MARY STUAET 
 
 After Drawings by Jacques Wagrez and R. de Los Rios. 
 
 Mary Stuart Entering Edinburgh After the Flight 
 of Bothwell Fronts. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Chastelard, Hidden in Mary's Bed-chamber, is Be- 
 trayed by the Barking of a Pet Dog .... 24 
 
 The Murder of David Rizzio 38 
 
 Mary Stuart is Taken Prisoner to Lochleven Castle, 78 
 
 Mary Stuart, at Lochleven Castle, Forced to Sign 
 Her Abdication 126 
 
 The Execution of Mary Stuart, February 8, 1587 . 236
 
 MARY STUART. 
 
 Vol. IV.-l.
 
 CELEBRATED CRIMES. 
 
 MARY STUART. 
 
 1587. 
 
 There are certain names which seem predestined to ill- 
 fortune when borne by those of royal race. 
 
 Such an one the name of Henri has been in France. 
 Henri I. was poisoned, Henri II. was killed in a tourna- 
 ment, Henri III. and Henri IV. were assassinated. As 
 to Henri V., whose past has been so sorrow-laden, God 
 alone knows what the future has in store for him. 
 
 In Scotland the name of Stuart has had a similar 
 destiny. Robert I. founder of the race, died at twenty- 
 eight in a decline. Robert II., the most fortunate of the 
 family, was compelled to pass part of his life in darkness 
 which was worse than exile, because of an inflammation 
 of the eyes which made them red as blood. Robert IH. 
 sank beneath the sorrow caused by the death of one of 
 his sons and the captivity of the other. James I. 
 was stabbed by Graham in the Monastery of the Black 
 Monks at Perth. James II. was killed at the siege of 
 Roxburgh by the bursting of a cannon. James III. was 
 assassinated by an unknown man in a mill in which 
 he had taken shelter after the battle of Sauchieburn. 
 
 (3)
 
 4 MARY STUART. 
 
 James IV., wounded by two arrows and a blow from a 
 halberd, died surrounded by his nobility on Flodden 
 Field. James V. died of grief for the loss of his two 
 sons, and of remorse for having caused the execution 
 of Hamilton. James VI., who was destined to wear 
 the double crown of England and Scotland, was the son 
 of a murdered father, and dragged out a melancholy, 
 timorous existence between the scaffold of his mother, 
 Mary Stuart, and that of his son, Charles I. Charles II. 
 passed part of his life in exile. James II. died there. 
 The Chevalier St. George, after he had been proclaimed 
 King of Scotland under the name of James VIII., and 
 of England and Ireland under that of James III., was 
 obliged to flee without even the glory of a defeat. 
 Charles Edward, his son, after the affray at Derby, and 
 the battle of Culloden, was hunted from mountain to 
 mountain, from rock to rock, and from one river's bank 
 to the other, until he made his escape, half naked, aboard 
 a French vessel, and finally went to Florence where 
 he died without being recognized as a sovereign by any 
 of the courts of Europe. Lastly, his brother, Henry 
 Benedict, the last descendant of the race, lived on a 
 pension of three thousand pounds sterling paid by 
 George IH., and died, utterly forgotten, bequeathing to 
 the House of Hanover the crown jewels which James II. 
 took with him when he crossed over to the continent in 
 1688 ; a tardy, but complete acknowledgment of the 
 legitimacy of the family, which supplanted his own. 
 
 Of this unhappy race Mary Stuart was the most ill- 
 used plaything of fate. Brantome said of her : " Those 
 who are moved to write concerning this illustrious 
 Queen of Scotland, have two subjects on which much 
 can be said her life, and her death." Brant6me, it 
 should be said, knew her at one of the saddest periods
 
 MARY STUART. 
 
 of her whole life just as she was leaving France for 
 Scotland. 
 
 It was on the ninth of August, 1651, that Mary Stuart, 
 having lost her husband and mother in the same year, 
 Queen Dowager of France and Queen of Scotland at 
 nineteen, arrived at Calais, under the escort of her 
 uncles, the Cardinals de Guise and de Lorraine, the 
 Due and Duchesse de Guise, the Due d'Aumale and 
 M. de Nemours. There two galleys were waiting to 
 take her over to Scotland, one commanded by M. 
 de Me'villon, and the other by Captain Albize. She 
 remained six days at Calais. On the fifteenth of the 
 same month, after most sorrowful farewells to her kins- 
 folk, she embarked on M. de Mevillon's galley, accom- 
 panied by MM. d'Aumale, d'Elboeuf, and Damville, 
 with many noblemen, among whom were BrantSme and 
 Chatelard. M. de Mevillon was ordered to put to sea 
 at once, and did so with the help of his sweeps, for the 
 wind was so light that the sails were of no use. 
 
 Mary Stuart was, at this time, in all the flower of her 
 beauty, which was increased in splendor by her mourn- 
 ing garb ; beauty so marvelous it was, that it diffused a 
 charm which no one of those whom she sought to please 
 ever escaped, and which was fatal to most of them. A 
 chanson was written concerning her about this time, 
 which was admitted, even by her rivals, to keep well 
 within the truth. It was the production, so it was said, 
 of M. de Maison-Fleur, a gallant with a pretty taste both 
 for letters and for arms. 
 
 L'on voit sous blanc atour, 
 
 En grand deuil et tristesse, 
 Se promener maint tour 
 
 De beute la deesse ; 
 Tenant le trait en main 
 
 De son fils inhumain ;
 
 6 MARY STUART. 
 
 Et 1'amour sans fronteau 
 
 Volfeter autour d'elle, 
 Deguisant son bandeau 
 
 Sous sun funebre voile 
 Oti sont ces mots ecrits ; 
 " Mourir on 6tre prfis." 
 
 At the moment of her departure, Mary Stuart, clad in 
 full mourning garb of white, seemed lovelier than ever ; 
 great tears coursed silently down her cheeks, as she 
 stood at the stern, she whose heart was broken at having 
 to depart, waving her handkerchief in farewell to those 
 whose hearts were broken at having to remain behind. 
 
 Within half an hour they had left the harbor and 
 were fairly out at sea. Suddenly Mary heard shrieks 
 of distress astern of the galley. A vessel which was 
 coming into port under full sail, had struck upon a 
 hidden rock, through the blundering of the pilot; a 
 large hole was opened in her bottom, she trembled and 
 moaned a moment like a wounded man, then began to 
 fill amid the shrieks of her crew. Mary stood pale and 
 speechless, horrified beyond measure, watching her as 
 she gradually sank out of sight, while the crew, as the 
 hull went down, ran up the shrouds and into the yards 
 to prolong their agony a few moments; at last hull, 
 yards, masts, all were swallowed up in the yawning maw 
 of the ocean. A black spot appeared here and there 
 upon the surface of the water, but it was for an instant 
 only; one by one they disappeared, the waves chased 
 one another over the spot, and the spectators of the 
 tragic scene, when they saw how calm and solitary the 
 ocean was, as if nothing had happened, wondered if it 
 were not an unreal vision which had appeared and 
 vanished. 
 
 " Alas ! " cried Mary, falling back into a sitting posi- 
 tion, with her arms upon the taffrail, " what a sad omen
 
 MARY STUART. 7 
 
 for so sad a journey ! " Then she looked once more at 
 the fast lessening shore, and her eyes which horror had 
 dried for a moment filled with tears anew. "Adieu, 
 France," she murmured, " adieu France ! " and for five 
 hours she sat thus, weeping and murmuring : " Adieu, 
 France ! adieu, France ! " 
 
 The night fell, and her grief increased ; as the objects 
 on shore became indistinguishable in the darkness, and 
 she was summoned below to supper, she rose to her feet, 
 saying : " Now, dear France, I really lose thee forever, 
 when jealous night heaps mourning upon mourning by 
 drawing a veil before my eyes. Adieu, then, dear, dear 
 France, and for the last time, for I shall never see thee 
 more." 
 
 "With these words she went below, observing that, 
 whereas Dido after the departure of JEneas gazed cease- 
 lessly at the waves, she, on the contrary, could not tear 
 her eyes away from the shore. 
 
 Her companions formed a circle about her, and 
 sought to console her and distract her thoughts. But 
 her grief overcame her more and more : she could not 
 reply for her voice was choked with sobs, and she scarcely 
 ate at all. She ordered a bed to be prepared in the after- 
 cabin, sent for the helmsman and told him to wake her 
 at the first peep of dawn, if the land was still in sight. 
 Upon this point Mary was favored by fortune, for the 
 wind died away, and when day broke the galley was 
 still in sight of land. 
 
 Mary was overjoyed when she was aroused by the helms- 
 man, who had not forgotten the orders he had received, 
 and, sitting up in bed, she saw through the open porthole 
 the shore which she loved so well. But about five o'clock 
 the wind freshened and the galley progressed so rapidly 
 that the French coast soon disappeared entirely. Then /
 
 8 MARY STUART. 
 
 Mary fell back upon her bed, pale as death, murmuring 
 once more: "Adieu France! I shall never see thee 
 more." 
 
 In very truth, the happiest years of her life were 
 passed in the France which she regretted so bitterly. 
 Born during the first religious commotions, by the bed- 
 side of her dying father, the atmosphere of gloom and 
 mourning in which she was cradled was destined to sur- 
 round her to her dying day, and her brief sojourn in 
 France was like a ray of sunshine in the darkness. 
 Slandered from her very birth she was, and the report 
 was so generally circulated that she was physically 
 deformed and could not live, that her mother, Marie de 
 Guise, in her annoyance at the malicious reports, took 
 her out of her swaddling clothes one day, and exhibited 
 her as God made her, to the English Ambassador, who 
 had asked her hand, on behalf of King Henry VIII., 
 for the Prince of Wales, who was himself but five years 
 old. Crowned at the age of nine months by Cardinal 
 Beaton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, she was immediately 
 secluded in Stirling Castle by her mother, who feared 
 treachery on the part of the English king. Two years 
 after she became distrustful of the security afforded by 
 that fortress, and transferred her to an island in Lake 
 Menteith, where an old monastery, the only building on 
 the spot, afforded protection to the royal child and to 
 four young girls born the same year as she, all of whom 
 bore the same sweet name which in French (Marie) 
 forms an anogram of the verb to love (aimer) ; they were 
 called the queen's " Marys," and were destined never to 
 leave her in good or ill fortune. They were Mary Flem- 
 ing, Mary Livingston, Mary Beaton and Mary Seaton. 
 She remained in the monastery until she was taken to 
 Dumbarton Castle on her way to France after the Scotch
 
 MARY 8TUAJST. 9 
 
 Parliament had given its sanction to her marriage with 
 the dauphin son of Henry II. There she was turned 
 over to M. de Br6ze who came on behalf of Henry IL 
 to escort her to France. They set sail upon French 
 galleys, which were waiting at the mouth of the Clyde, 
 and after being hotly pursued by the English fleet 
 entered the harbor of Brest on the 15th of August, 
 1548, a year after the death of Frangois I. 
 
 Besides the Queen's four Marys the little fleet also 
 bore to France three of her natural brothers, including 
 the Prior of St. Andrews, James Stuart, who was at a 
 later period to abjure the Catholic faith, and to wield a 
 blighting influence upon Mary's destiny, as Regent of 
 Scotland under the title of Earl Murray. 
 
 From Brest, Mary was escorted to Saint-Gennain-en- 
 Laye, where Henri II., who had but recently mounted 
 the throne, welcomed her with the utmost affection, and 
 sent her to a convent where the heiresses of the noblest 
 families were sent to receive their education. There 
 Mary's happy temperament developed rapidly. Born 
 with a woman's heart and a man's brain, Mary not only 
 acquired all the accomplishments which properly formed 
 part of the education of a future queen, but she became 
 proficient in the exact sciences which are supposed to 
 fall within the province of none but learned doctors. 
 At the age of fourteen she pronounced a Latin discourse 
 of her own composition in one of the great halls of the 
 Louvre, before Henri II. , Catherine de Medicis and all 
 the court, maintaining that it was a becoming thing for 
 women to cultivate a taste for letters, and that it was as 
 unjust and tyrannical to confine the education of young 
 girls to social accomplishments, as it would be to deprive 
 flowers of their perfume. We can readily understand 
 what manner of reception a future queen, advancing
 
 10 MABY STUART. 
 
 such a theory, was likely to meet with at the most liter- 
 ary and most pedantic court in Europe. Between the 
 literature of Rabelais and Marot, whose sun was just 
 sinking, and that of Konsard and Montaigne, who were 
 at the zenith of their popularity, Mary became the queen 
 of poetry, and would have been only to happy to wear 
 no other crown than that which Ronsard, Debellay, 
 Maison Fleur and Brant6me placed every day upon 
 her head. But her fate was preordained. In the midst 
 of the f&tes which dying chivalry was trying to rehabili- 
 tate, came the fatal jousting at the Tournelles : Henri 
 II., struck with a lance head in the face, was laid prema- 
 turely beside his ancestors, and Mary Stuart ascended 
 the throne of France, where she laid aside her mourning 
 for Henri, only to assume it again for her mother, and 
 was called upon to lament the death of her husband 
 before her tears for her mother's death had ceased to 
 flow. 
 
 Mary was doubly afflicted by this latest loss, as wife 
 and as poet : her heart overflowed in bitter tears and 
 melodious lamentations. These are the lines which she 
 wrote at that time : 
 
 En mon trlste et doux chant, 
 D'un ton fort lamentable, 
 Je jette un deuil t ran chant 
 De perte incomparable, 
 Et en soupirs cuisans 
 Passe mes meilleurs ans. 
 
 Fut-il un tel malheur 
 De dure destined, 
 Ni si triste douleur 
 De dame fortune^ 
 Qui mon cceur et mon ceil 
 Vois en bifire et cerceuil? 
 
 Qui dans mon doux printemps 
 Et fleur de ma jeunesse, 
 Toutes les peines sens 
 D'une extreme tristesse,
 
 MARY STUAKT. 11 
 
 Et en rien n'ai plaisir 
 Qu'en regret et desir. 
 
 Ce qui m'6toit plaisant 
 Ue devient peine dure: 
 Le jour le plus lulsant 
 Est pour moi nuit obscure, 
 Et n'est rien si exquis 
 Qui de moi soil requis. 
 
 J'ai au co3ur et & 1'ceil 
 Un portrait, une image, 
 Qui figure mon deuil 
 Sur mon pale visage 
 De violettes teint, 
 Qui est I'amoureux teint. 
 
 Pour mon mal estranger, 
 Je ne m'arrfite en place ; 
 Mais j'en ai beau changer, 
 Si ma douleur n'efface ; 
 Car mon pis et mon mieux 
 Sont les plus deserts lieux, 
 
 Si en quelque sejour, 
 Soil en bois, soit en pr6e, 
 Soit sur 1'aube du jour, 
 Ou soit sur la vesprge, 
 Sans cesse mon coaur sent 
 Le regret d'un absent 
 
 Si par fois vers les cieux 
 Viens adresser ma vue, 
 Le doux trait de ses yeux 
 Je vois en une nue ; 
 Si les baisse vers 1'eau, 
 Vois comme en une tombeau. 
 
 81 je suis en repos, 
 Sommeillant sur ma couche, 
 J'oy qu'il me ti&nt propos, 
 Je le seus qu'il me louche ; 
 En labeur, en recoy 
 Toujours est pres de moy. 
 
 Je ne vois autre objet, 
 Si beau qu'il se presente, 
 A qui que soit subjet 
 Oncques mon coeur consente ; 
 Exempt de perfection 
 A cette affection.
 
 12 MARY STUART. 
 
 Mets chanson icy fin 
 A si triste complalnte 
 Dont sera le refrain 
 Amour vraie et mon feintc, 
 Qui, pour separation, 
 N'aura diminution. 
 
 " At that time," says Brantome " she was very beau- 
 tiful to look upon, for the soft whiteness of her face 
 struggled for supremacy with the whiteness of her veil ; 
 but at last, the veil, being the work of man, was forced 
 to yield, and the snowy pallor of her cheeks carried off 
 the prize. For I never saw her otherwise than very 
 pale," he adds, " from the first day of her widowhood 
 so long as I had the honor to form one of her suite in 
 France, and afterwards in Scotland, whither she was 
 obliged to go after eighteen months, to her very great 
 regret to pacify her kingdom, torn by religious faction. 
 Alas ! she had neither inclination nor desire to go 
 thither, and I have often heard her say that she 
 dreaded the journey like death itself ; for she would have 
 preferred a hundred times over to remain in France, as 
 simple Queen Dowager, and to be content with Touraine 
 and Poitou for her dowry, rather than to reign in her 
 savage realm yonder. But Messieurs, her uncles (some 
 of them, at least, but not all), advised her to go, and 
 even urged it upon her, and afterwards repented at 
 leasure of their rash haste. 
 
 Mary obeyed, as we have seen, and her voyage began 
 under such sorrowful auspices that when she lost sight 
 of the land she thought her last day had come. It 
 was then that these well-known lines exhaled from 
 that poetic soul : 
 
 Adieu, plaisant pays de France, 
 
 O'ma patrie 
 
 La plus chdrie, 
 Qui as nourri ma jeune enfance !
 
 MARY STUART. 13 
 
 Adieu, France ! adieu mex beaux jours, 
 
 La nef qui disjoint nos amours, 
 
 N'a en de moi que la moitie' ; 
 
 Une part te reste, elle est tienne ; 
 
 Je la fie a ton amiti6, 
 
 Pour que de 1'autre il t'e souvienne. 
 
 This half of herself which Mary left in France was 
 the body of the young King, who took all poor Mary's 
 happiness with him to the tomb. 
 
 The one hope left to Mary was that the sight of an 
 English fleet would compel her little squadron to return ; 
 but her destiny was written and must be fulfilled. A 
 fog, of extraordinary density for the season, enveloped 
 the whole Channel throughout the day, and under its 
 cover the galleys eluded the English cruisers ; the fog 
 was actually so thick that the mast could not be seen 
 from the stern sheets. It lasted all day Sunday 
 they weighed anchor on the Saturday and did not 
 rise until Monday morning at eight o'clock. The 
 little fleet, which had steered at random during all this 
 time, was found to be in the midst of such a wilderness 
 of reefs that one or more of the galleys would certainly 
 have struck, and have gone down like the vessel they 
 saw as they were leaving Calais, if the fog had lasted 
 a few moments longer. 
 
 When it finally lifted, the pilot recognized the Scotch 
 coast, and guiding his vessels through the reefs with 
 great skill, he made a landing at Leith, where no pre- 
 parations had been made to receive the Queen. 
 
 She had no sooner put her foot on shore, however, 
 than the principal men of the town got together and 
 came to offer her their congratulations. Meanwhile 
 they were collecting a few wretched nags whose har- 
 nesses were falling in pieces, to take the Queen to 
 Edinburgh. At sight of them Mary's tears flowed
 
 14 MARY STUART. 
 
 afresh; for she thought of the beautiful palfreys and 
 showy hackneys of the cavaliers and ladies of her suite 
 in France, while Scotland was revealed to her at the 
 first glance in all its wretchedness. The next day she 
 was to obtain a glimpse of it in all its ferocity. 
 
 After passing the night at Holyrood Castle, " where " 
 says Bantome, "five or six scoundrels came from the 
 city and entertained her with an ear-splitting serenade 
 upon wretched violins and rebecks instead of letting her 
 sleep, she expressed a desire to hear mass." Unfor- 
 tunately the people of Edinburgh belonged almost 
 wholly to the Reformed religion; they were enraged 
 that the Queen should begin her reign with this proof 
 of popery, and made their way into the chapel by force, 
 armed with knives and sticks and stones, with the 
 purpose of putting to death the poor priest who acted as 
 her chaplain. He left the altar and ran to her for 
 protection, while Mary's brother, the Prior of St. 
 Andrews, who was much more inclined at this time to 
 the military profession than the ecclesiastical, declared 
 that he would strike down with his own hand the first 
 man who came a step nearer. His firmness, in con- 
 junction with the dignified and imposing demeanor of 
 the Queen, arrested the zeal of the converts of Calvin. 
 
 As we have said, Mary arrived in Scotland when the 
 first religious disturbances were at fever heat. A zealous 
 Catholic, like all her mother's family, her presence 
 aroused the gravest fears among the Huguenots. The 
 report was circulated that, instead of landing at Leith 
 as the fog had forced her to do, her purpose had been to 
 land at Aberdeen, where she would have found the Earl 
 of Huntly awaiting her ; and Huntly was not only one 
 of those peers who had remained faithful to the Catholic 
 religion, but was, next to the Hamiltons, the nearest and
 
 MARY 8TUART. 15 
 
 most powerful connection of the royal family. Sup- 
 ported by him and twenty thousand soldiers from the 
 north, she would then have marched upon Edinburgh, 
 and re-established Catholicism from one end of Scotland 
 to the other. Events were not slow in proving the falsity 
 of that charge. 
 
 Mary was very fond of the Prior of St. Andrews, who 
 was the son of James V. and a noble lady of the house 
 Mar. She had been very beautiful in her younger days, 
 and in spite of James' well-known passion for her, and 
 the child which was the result of it, she had married 
 Lord Douglas of Lochleven, by whom she had two other 
 sons, half-brothers of the regent, the elder of whom was 
 named William and the other George. Mary was not 
 fairly seated upon the throne when she bestowed upon 
 the Prior of Saint Andrews the title of Earl of Mar, 
 which was that of his maternal ancestors ; and as the 
 Earldom of Murray had been extinct since the death of 
 the famous Thomas Randolph, Mary, in her sisterly 
 affection for James Stuart, soon added that distinction 
 to those with which she had already honored him. 
 
 But at this point matters became more complicated ; 
 for the new Earl of Murray, whose character is well- 
 known, was not the man to be content with the title 
 minus the estates ; now the estates, which fell in to the 
 crown when the male line of the old earls became 
 extinct, had been gradually encroached upon by pow- 
 erful neighbors, among whom was the celebrated Earl 
 of Huntly, whom we mentioned a moment ago. The 
 result was that, as the Queen thought it probable that 
 her commands would meet with some opposition in 
 that direction, she put herself at the head of a small 
 army, commanded by her brother, the Earl of Mar and
 
 16 MARY STUART. 
 
 Murray, and marched north on the pretext of a visit to 
 her possessions there. 
 
 The Earl of Huntly was the less likely to be the 
 dupe of this alleged pretext inasmuch as his son, John 
 Gordon, had just been sentenced to a term of imprison- 
 ment for some trifling abuse of authority which he had 
 committed. He adopted, however, a most submissive 
 attitude towards the Queen, sent messengers to meet 
 her and invite her to break her journey at his castle, 
 and followed the messengers in person to renew the 
 invitation with his own lips. Unfortunately, at the very 
 moment when he joined the Queen, the governor of 
 Inverness, who was a retainer of his, refused to allow 
 Mary to enter Inverness Castle, although it was a 
 royal castle. Murray, to be sure, had already ordered 
 his head cut off on the charge of high treason, being 
 satisfied that there was no profit in bargaining with 
 rebellions of that sort. 
 
 This fresh display of the firm hand proved to Huntly's 
 satisfaction that the young Queen did not propose to 
 allow the great lords to resume the almost sovereign 
 power which her father had humbled. For that reason, 
 and notwithstanding the hearty welcome he received, 
 when he learned in the Queen's camp that his eon had 
 escaped from prison and put himself at the head of his 
 vassals, he feared that he should be suspected of being 
 privy to this step, as he doubtless was ; so he left secretly 
 that same night to take command of his troops, deter- 
 mined to try the hazard of a battle, as Mary had no 
 more than seven or eight thousand men with her. He 
 declared, however, as Buccleuch did when he tried to 
 wrest James V. from the hands of Douglas, that he had 
 no designs upon the Queen, but upon the Regent alone,
 
 MARY STUART. 17 
 
 who kept her under the closest tutelage, and perverted 
 her good intentions. 
 
 Murray, who was well aware that the tranquillity of 
 a whole reign often depends upon the degree of firm- 
 ness displayed at its inception, immediately called upon 
 all the northern barons whose estates were in the vicinity 
 of his own, to take the field against Huntly : they all 
 obeyed, for the Gordons were so powerful already that 
 the apprehension of their becoming more so was wide- 
 spread. It was very apparent, nevertheless, that with 
 their hatred for the vassal there was mingled no great 
 affection for the Queen, and that most of them came 
 without settled purpose, other than to let circumstances 
 control their action. 
 
 The two armies met near Aberdeen : Murray imme- 
 diately stationed the troops he had brought from Edin- 
 burgh, of whom he was sure, on top of a hill, and 
 arranged all his northern allies on the sides of the hill 
 in echelons. Huntly advanced upon his Highland 
 neighbors with resolute front, and after a brief resistance 
 they fell back in disorder. His men at once threw away 
 their lances and rushed after the fleeing Highlanders 
 with drawn swords, crying : " Gordon ! Gordon ? " They 
 thought that the battle was already theirs, when they 
 suddenly found themselves confronted by Murray's main 
 body, who stood like a rock, and with their long lances 
 made sad havoc of their adversaries who were armed 
 with claymores only. So the Gordons had to fall back 
 in their turn, whereupon the northern clans rallied and 
 returned to the battle, each man having a spray of 
 heather in his cap, as a mark by which his comrades 
 could identify him. This unexpected onset was decisive 
 of the result : the Highlanders poured down the hill in 
 a resistless flood, carrying with them all who undertook 
 
 Vol. TV I
 
 18 MARY STUART. 
 
 to oppose their rush. Then Murray saw that the moment 
 had come to change the defeat into a rout, and charged 
 down the hill with all his cavalry : Huntly, who was 
 very stout and clad in very heavy armor, fell and was 
 trampled to death under the horses' feet ; John Gordon 
 was made prisoner and had his head cut off at Aberdeen 
 three days later : and his brother who was too young to 
 undergo similar punishment at that time, was closely 
 confined in a dungeon, and executed on the day he 
 completed his sixteenth year. 
 
 Mary was present at the battle, and her tranquil and 
 courageous demeanor made a deep impression upon her 
 savage defenders, who heard her say again and again 
 that she wished she were a man, to pass her days in the 
 saddle and her nights under a tent, to wear a coat of 
 mail upon her body, a helmet on her head, a shield on 
 her arm, and a broadsword at her side. 
 
 She entered Edinburgh amid general enthusiasm, for 
 her expedition against the Earl of Huntly, who was a 
 Catholic, was very popular with the people of that city, 
 who did not understand the real motives which had 
 caused it to be undertaken. They were of the Reformed 
 religion, and the Earl was a Papist : they had gone no 
 farther into the subject than that. 
 
 In the midst of their acclamations the good Scotch- 
 men expressed, both verbally and by written petitions, 
 their earnest desire that the Queen, who had had no 
 children by Franjois II., should marry again. Mary 
 made no objection to that, and in accordance with the 
 sound advice of those who were about her, she resolved 
 to consult Elizabeth upon the subject of her marriage : 
 for, being Henry VII.'s grand-daughter she was next in 
 succession to the throne of England if the Queen should 
 die without issue. Unhappily she had not always acted
 
 MARY STUAET. 19 
 
 with the like circumspection ; for at the death of Mary 
 Tudor, called "Bloody Mary," she laid claim to the 
 throne on the ground of the alleged illegitimacy of 
 Elizabeth, and she and the Dauphin assumed the titles 
 of King and Queen of England, Scotland and Ireland, 
 and caused coins to be struck bearing those titles, and 
 the armorial bearings of those countries to be engraved 
 upon their plate. 
 
 Elizabeth was only nine years older than Mary, which 
 is equivalent to saying that at this time she was still 
 under thirty : so that the two were rivals, not as Queens 
 alone, but as women. In the matter of education, 
 Elizabeth had nothing to fear from comparison, for if 
 there was less of the fascination in her wit, there was 
 more solidity in her judgments : she was well versed in 
 politics, philosophy, history, oratory, poetry and music, 
 and beside her native tongue she spoke and wrote per- 
 fectly in Greek, Latin, French, Italian and Spanish. 
 But if she was Mary's superior in this direction, Mary 
 was far more beautiful, and vastly more attractive than 
 her rival. Elizabeth, it is true, was majestic in her 
 bearing, and pleasant to look upon : her eyes were 
 bright and keen, and her complexion dazzlingly white : 
 but her hair was red and she had large feet* and hands. 
 Mary, on the other hand, had beautiful chestnut hairf, 
 and a noble forehead ; her eyebrows were open to no 
 other reproach than that of being arched with such pre- 
 cision of line, that they seemed to be drawn with a 
 brush ; from her eyes the most potent of love philters 
 
 * Elizabeth presented a pair of her shoes to the University of Oxford : 
 their size would Indicate that they were made for a man of medium 
 height 
 
 t Several historians assert that Mary Stuart's hair was black, but Bran- 
 tome, who, as we have said, accompanied her to Scotland, and must often 
 have seen it, says that she had chestnut hair.
 
 20 MARY STUART. 
 
 poured in an endless stream ; her nose was shaped after 
 the purest Grecian model ; her mouth so rosy and smiling, 
 that it seemed as if it ought never to open save to whis- 
 per soft words, as a flower opens only to emit its perfume, 
 and her neck as white and graceful as a swan's : add to 
 all this, hands of the whiteness of alabaster, feet like a 
 child's, and the shape of a goddess, and the result was a 
 perfect whole, in which the most fanatical connoisseur 
 could find no flaw. 
 
 Therein lay Mary's real crime : had there been but one 
 blemish in her face or form, she had never perished on 
 the scaffold. 
 
 Her beauty was to Elizabeth, who had never seen her, 
 and consequently could judge of it only by hearsay, a 
 fruitful source of uneasiness and jealousy which she was 
 quite unable to conceal, and which were constantly dis- 
 played by peevish questions and testy remarks. One 
 day she was talking familiarly with James Melville 
 concerning the object of his mission to her court, which 
 was to ask Elizabeth's advice concerning the choice of a 
 consort. The Queen, whose first impulse was to urge 
 the selection of the Earl of Leicester, led the Scottish 
 Ambassador into a sort of study, where she showed him 
 several portraits, with the names written in her own 
 hand. The first was Leicester's. As this nobleman was 
 selected by Elizabeth as a claimant to Mary's hand, 
 Melville asked her to give him the portrait to show his 
 mistress : but Elizabeth refused, saying that it was the 
 only one she had. Melville suggested with a smile that 
 as she had the original she could get along without the 
 copy, but nothing would induce her to consent to part 
 with it. 
 
 When this little discussion was at an end, she showed 
 him a picture of Mary Stuart, which she kissed with a
 
 MARY STUART. 21 
 
 great show of affection, expressing to Melville her great 
 longing to see his mistress. 
 
 " It's an easy thing to do, Madame," he replied ; " pre- 
 tend to keep your room on the ground of indisposition, 
 and go incog, to Scotland, as James V. went to France 
 when the fancy took him to see Madeline deValois, 
 whom he afterward married. 
 
 " Alas ! " Elizabeth rejoined, " I should like it above 
 all things, but it's not so easy as you think. Tell your 
 Queen, however, that I love her dearly, and that I hope 
 we shall live on closer terms of frendship hereafter than 
 we have done hitherto. Come, Melville," she continued, 
 passing to a subject which she had evidently been long- 
 ing to broach for some time, " tell me frankly, is my 
 sister as beautiful as they say ? " 
 
 " She is considered to be very beautiful," said Mel- 
 ville ; " but I cannot give Your Majesty any satisfactory 
 idea on the subject, as I have nothing to compare her 
 with." 
 
 " I will give you something," said the Queen ; " is she 
 more beautiful than I am ? " 
 
 "Madame," rejoined Melville, "you are the most 
 beautiful woman in England, and Mary Stuart in 
 Scotland." 
 
 " But which of us is the taller," persisted Elizabeth, 
 not entirely satisfied with the reply, clever as it was. 
 
 " My mistress, Madame," said Mellville ; " I am forced 
 to admit that." 
 
 " Then she's too tall," said Elizabeth pettishly, " for I 
 am as tall as any woman ought to be. What are her 
 favorite recreations ? " she went on. 
 
 " Hunting, Madame, riding, and playing on the lute 
 and harpsichord." 
 
 " Does she play well on the last ? " queried Elizabeth.
 
 22 MARY STUART. 
 
 " Why, yes, Madame," Melville replied ; " very well 
 for a queen." 
 
 The conversation went no farther ; but as Elizabeth 
 was an accomplished musician she instructed Lord 
 Hunsdon to bring Melville to her apartments when she 
 was at her harpsichord, so that he might hear her playing 
 when she would not appear to be performing for his 
 benefit. The same day Hunsdon, in obedience to his 
 instructions, escorted the ambassador to a gallery which 
 was separated from the Queen's apartment by tapestry 
 hangings only; so that, when his guide raised them, 
 Melville could listen to her at his ease. She did not 
 turn until she had finished the piece she was playing 
 and playing with much skill and expression, be it said. 
 When she saw Melville she pretended to be very angry, 
 and even threatened to strike him ; but her passion gave 
 way little by little to the ambassador's compliments, and 
 vanished altogether when he admitted that Mary was 
 not her equal in that regard. 
 
 But Elizabeth did not stop there ; she was so proud 
 of her triumph that she determined that Melville should 
 see her dance ; so she held back his dispatches two days 
 to enable him to be present at a ball which she gave. 
 These dispatches, as we have said, expressed a desire 
 that Mary should marry Leicester ; but such a propo- 
 sition could not be taken seriously. Leicester, whose 
 personal merit was of the slightest, was of too humble 
 birth to aspire to the hand of the daughter of so many 
 kings. Mary replied that such an alliance could not be 
 looked upon as a suitable one for her to enter into. 
 
 Meanwhile a strange and tragic incident took place 
 at court. 
 
 Among the noblemen who had followed Mary Stuart 
 to Scotland was one whose name we have already
 
 MARY 8TUABT. 23 
 
 mentioned, a young man named Chastelard. He was 
 a nephew of Chevalier Bayard through his mother, and 
 was a perfect type of the nobility of the age a poet 
 and knight-errant, endowed with manifold talents, and 
 of proved gallantry. He was a member of Mare"chal 
 Damville's household, and by virtue of that eminent 
 position, had paid court to Mary Stuart during the 
 whole of her stay in France. She saw in the homage 
 which he paid her, mostly in rhyme, nothing more than 
 the poetical declarations of devotion which were cus- 
 tomary at that time, and with which she, more than all 
 others, was overwhelmed every day. Now it came about 
 that her fate compelled her to leave France just when 
 Chastelard was most deeply in love with her. Mare'chal 
 Damville, who had been encouraged by Mary's gracious 
 demeanor to enter the lists as a candidate for the 
 succession to Francis II., and who knew nothing of 
 Chastelard's passion, set out for Scotland with the poor 
 exile, and took Chastelard with him ; and, without the 
 least suspicion that he had a rival in him, he made him 
 the confidant of his own passion, and left him with 
 Mary when he was obliged to be away, enjoining him 
 to watch over his patron's interests. 
 
 This post of confidant brought Chastelard still nearer 
 to Mary ; and as the Queen treated him, in his capacity 
 of poet, like a brother, his passion emboldened him to 
 the point of risking everything to gain the right to 
 another title. Consequently he stole into the Queen's 
 room one evening, and hid under the bed ; but just as 
 she was beginning to undress, a little dog belonging to 
 her began to yelp so furiously that the women came 
 running in, and easily discovered Chastelard. A woman 
 readily forgives an offence for which too great love is 
 the excuse ; Mary Stuart was more woman than queen,
 
 24 MARY STUART. 
 
 and she forgave. But her kindness had no other effect 
 than to increase Chastelard's confidence ; he attributed 
 the rebuke he received to the presence of the Queen's 
 women, and fancied that if she had been alone, her for- 
 giveness would have been even more complete. 
 
 Three weeks later the same scene was re-enacted ; but 
 this time Chastelard, detected hiding in a wardrobe when 
 the Queen was in bed, was handed over to the guards. 
 
 The moment was ill-chosen ; such a scandal, occurring 
 just as Mary was on the point of marrying again, would 
 have been fatal to her, unless it had been fatal to 
 Chastelard. Murray took the affair in hand and, deem- 
 ing that a public trial alone could save his sister's 
 reputation, he pressed the prosecution so vigorously that 
 Chastelard was convicted of the crime of fese-majeste, and 
 condemned to death. Mary made a feeble attempt to 
 induce her brother to send him back to France ; but 
 Murray pointed out to her the terrible consequences 
 which might flow from such an exercise of the pardoning 
 power, and Mary was forced to let the law take its 
 course. So Chastelard's doom was sealed. 
 
 When he was standing upon the scaffold, which was 
 erected in front of the Queen's palace, Chastelard, who 
 had declined the services of a priest, asked that 
 Ronsard's ode on Death might be read to him ; he fol- 
 lowed the reading with evident pleasure, and when it was 
 at an end, he turned toward the Queen's windows, cried 
 " Adieu, most beautiful and most cruel of princesses," 
 and offered his neck to the executioner, without a word 
 of repentance or complaint. His death made the deeper 
 impression upon the Queen because she did not dare to 
 express her sympathy openly. 
 
 Meanwhile the report had spread abroad that the 
 Queen of Scotland was inclined to marry again, and
 
 MARY STUART 
 
 Chastelard, hidden in Mary^s bed-chamber, 
 is betrayed by the barking of a pet dog.
 
 MARY STUART. 25 
 
 several aspirants came forward, among them scions of 
 the most illustrious royal houses of Europe. In the 
 first place, there was the Archduke Charles, third son of 
 the Emperor of Germany ; then there was the Infant of 
 Spain, Don Carlos, who was afterwards put to death by 
 his father ; and the Due d'Anjou, afterwards Henry III. 
 But to marry a foreign prince was to renounce her right 
 to the English throne, so Mary refused them all, and, 
 claiming credit for her refusal with Elizabeth, she cast 
 her eyes upon one of the English Queen's relatives, 
 Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, a son of the Earl of Lennox. 
 
 Elizabeth, who could find no plausible objection to the 
 marriage, when Mary not only made choice of an English- 
 man, but came to Elizabeth's own family for her husband, 
 allowed the Earl of Lennox and his son to visit the 
 court of Scotland, reserving the right, if affairs should 
 seem to be taking a serious turn, to order them both back 
 to England ; an order which they would be compelled 
 to obey, as all their property was there. 
 
 Darnley was eighteen years old ; he was handsome, 
 well-made and a dandy ; he was a master of that capti- 
 vating jargon of the young courtiers of France and 
 England, which Mary had not heard during her exile in 
 Scotland ; she allowed herself to be blinded by these 
 external qualities, and did not discover that beneath 
 this brilliant shell, Darnley concealed absolute intellec- 
 tual nullity, doubtful courage, and a fickle and brutal 
 temperament. It should be said that he was presented to 
 her under the auspices of a man whose influence was 
 as extraordinary as his elevation to the height which 
 made it possible for him to exercise it. We refer to 
 David Rizzio. 
 
 David Rizzio, who played so prominent a part in 
 Mary Stuart's life, and whose extraordinary favor in her
 
 26 MARY STUART. 
 
 sight, furnished her foes with such deadly weapons 
 against her, without probable cause, was the son of a 
 musician of Turin, who was burdened with a large fam- 
 ily. His father, having observed in him a decided taste 
 for music, taught him the rudiments of that art. At 
 the age of fifteen he left home, and went afoot to Nice* 
 where the Duke of Savoy was then holding his court. 
 There he entered the services of the Duke of Moreto, 
 and when that nobleman was appointed ambassador to 
 Scotland some years later, Rizzio went with him to that 
 kingdom. As he was gifted with a beautiful voice, and 
 was also a skillful performer upon the violin and rebeck, 
 accompanying himself in songs of which he composed 
 both words and music, the ambassador spoke of him to 
 Mary, who expressed a desire to see him. Rizzio, over- 
 flowing with self-confidence, saw in this desire of the 
 Queen a means of pushing his own fortunes : he lost no 
 time in obeying her command, and sang before her, to 
 her great delight. She then asked Moreto to give him 
 to her in much the same way that she might have asked 
 him for a thoroughbred, or a well-trained falcon. Moreto 
 was only too delighted with this opportunity of paying 
 his court to her, and acceded to her request. 
 
 Rizzio had been but a short time in her service before 
 Mary discovered that music was the least of his accom- 
 plishments, and that, outside of that, his learning was 
 varied, to say the least, if not very deep ; that he had a 
 supple intellect and a lively imagination, and while his 
 manners were gentle, he did not lack assurance and 
 self-conceit. He reminded her of the Italian artists she 
 had seen at the French court, and addressed her in the 
 language of Marot and Ronsard, whose most beautiful 
 poems he knew by heart: less than this would have 
 made him welcome to Mary Stuart. In a very short
 
 MARY STUART. 27 
 
 time he became her favorite, and as the office of secre- 
 retary of dispatches became vacant most opportunely, 
 Kizzio was installed in it. 
 
 Darnley, who was determined to succeed in his suit at 
 all hazards, enlisted Rizzio in his interest, unaware that 
 he stood in no need of his assistance : and as Mary, who 
 had fallen in love with him at first sight, was led by her 
 fear of some fresh intrigue on Elizabeth's part to hasten 
 forward the marriage as much as the proprieties would 
 permit, the arrangements were made with astounding 
 rapidity. On the 29th of July, 1565, the marriage took 
 place under the happiest auspices, to the great joy of 
 the people and with the approval of the nobility, saving 
 a small minority led by Murray. Two days before, 
 Darnley and his father, the Earl of Lennox, received a 
 command to return to London, and as they did not obey, 
 they learned, a week after the wedding that the Countess 
 of Lennox, the only one of the family who remained in 
 Elizabeth's power, had been arrested and taken to the 
 Tower. Thus Elizabeth, throwing aside dissimulation, 
 yielded to the first violent impulse, which it always cost 
 her a great effort to overcome, and made an open exhibi- 
 tion of her resentment. 
 
 She was not the woman, however, to be content with 
 a mere empty revenge : so she soon released the countess, 
 and fixed her eyes upon Murray, who was the most mal- 
 content of all the malcontent noblemen, as his personal 
 influence was entirely destroyed by the marriage. Under 
 these circumstances it was not difficult for Elizabeth to 
 induce him to take up arms. After an abortive attempt 
 to get possession of Darnley's person, he summoned the 
 Due de Chatelherault, Glencairn, Argyle and Rothesay 
 to join him ; they collected as many of their partisans as 
 they could, and took the field in open rebellion against
 
 28 MARY STUART. 
 
 the Queen. This was the first overt demonstration of 
 the hatred which was to have such fatal results for Mary. 
 She, on her side, issued an appeal to her nobles, who 
 were quick to respond, and to rally to her standard, so 
 that she found herself, within a month, surrounded by 
 the finest army that ever Scottish king had levied. 
 
 Darnley took the command of this magnificent force, 
 mounted on a superb horse, encased in gilded armor, and 
 accompanied by the Queen, in Amazonian garb and with 
 pistols in her holsters : she had determined to make the 
 campaign with him, so that she might not lose sight of 
 him for an instant. They were both young, and both 
 beautiful, and they rode out of Edinburgh amid the 
 enthusiastic acclamations of the populace and the 
 army. 
 
 Murray and his confederates made no attempt to 
 make a stand against them, and the campaign consisted 
 of marches and countermarches, so rapid and so compli- 
 cated, that the insurrection was known as " Run about 
 Raid" Murray and the other rebels went over into 
 England, where Elizabeth, while pretending to blame 
 them for their rash undertaking, furnished them with 
 all they stood in need of. 
 
 Mary returned to Edinburgh, overjoyed with the suc- 
 cess of her first campaign, not dreaming that this fresh 
 gift of fortune was the last she was to receive at the 
 hands of the fickle dame, and that her brief season of 
 prosperity had reached its limit. But she soon dis- 
 covered that in Darnley she had taken unto herself, not 
 as she supposed a gallant and assiduous consort, but an 
 imperious and brutal master, who, having no further 
 motive for hiding his real character from his wife's eyes, 
 showed himself to her as he was, a slave of the most 
 shameful vices, of which drunkenness and debauchery
 
 MARY STUART. 29 
 
 were the least. Thus it came about that serious trouble 
 soon arose in the royal manage. 
 
 Darnley, when he married Mary, did not become 
 king, but simply the Queen's consort. To confer upon 
 him a degree of authority similar to that exercised by 
 the Regent, it was necessary that Mary should bestow 
 upon him what was called the crown matrimonial, 
 which Fran9ois II. had worn during his brief married 
 life. But Mary had no intention of bestowing it upon 
 Darnley, after his conduct to her. And so, however 
 urgent his demands, and in whatever form he disguised 
 them, she met them with an unvarying, persistent re- 
 fusal. Darnley was amazed to find such strength of 
 will in a young woman who had loved him enough to 
 raise him to her level, and as he had no idea that its 
 source was in her own breast, he set himself to find out 
 by what secret, influential adviser it might be inspired. 
 His suspicions fell upon Rizzio. 
 
 It is an indisputable fact, that, whatever may have 
 been the true explanation of Rizzio's influence, (and 
 this point has never been decided by the most impartial 
 historians) whether he issued his commands as lover, or 
 gave advice as minister, his voice, so long as he lived, 
 was always given for the Queen's greatest glory. His 
 origin was so humble that he was determined to show 
 himself worthy to have risen so high, and to Mary 
 before all others he tried to pay, in absolute devotion, 
 all that he owed. Darnley, then, was not mistaken, and 
 it was really Rizzio, who, in his despair at having done 
 what he did to bring about a union which he foresaw 
 would prove to be miserably unhappy, advised Mary not 
 to yield one jot or tittle of her power, to one who already 
 possessed more than he deserved in the possession of her 
 person.
 
 30 MARY STUART. 
 
 Darnley, like every man whose character is at once 
 weak and headstrong, denied to others the quality of 
 persistent will-power, unless sustained by some outside 
 influence. He thought that by getting rid of Bizzio, he 
 would surely remove the only obstacle to the success of 
 his cause, because Bizzio alone, so he thought, was op- 
 posed to the bestowal upon him of the crown matrimon- 
 ial, the object of his ardent desires. Owing to the fact 
 that Bizzio was bitterly hated by the nobility because he 
 had raised himself above them by his own merit, it was 
 not difficult for Darnley to organize a conspiracy, and 
 James Douglas of Morton, Chancellor of the Kingdom, 
 consented to take the lead in it. 
 
 This is the second time, since we began this narrative 
 that we have mentioned the name of Douglas, a name to 
 be met with so frequently in the history of Scotland. 
 The elder branch called the "Black Douglases" was 
 extinct at this time, and the name was perpetuated in 
 the younger branch, to whom the distinctive title of 
 "Bed Douglases" was applied. It was an ancient, 
 powerful family, which contended for the crown 
 with the first of the Stuarts, when Bobert Bruce's 
 posterity disappeared, and from that time had kept its 
 place close to the throne, sometimes friendly, sometimes 
 hostile, keeping a jealously watchful eye upon every 
 great family, for all grandeur not dependent upon its 
 own was offensive to it, especially that of the Hamiltons, 
 who stood next to the Douglases in power, if indeed 
 they were not on a level with them. 
 
 During the reign of James V., that King's hatred for 
 them had not only caused the loss of all their influence, 
 but had driven them into exile in England. This hatred 
 was due to their having forcibly taken possession of 
 the young prince and kept him in confinement until
 
 MARY STUART. 31 
 
 he was fifteen years old. Then he succeeded in making 
 his escape from Falkland, with the assistance of one of 
 his pages, and got as far as Stirling, whose governor was 
 devoted to him. As soon as he was safe within the 
 castle he caused proclamation to be made that every 
 Douglas found within twelve miles would be proceeded 
 against on a charge of high treason. More than that : 
 he procured a decree from Parliament declaring that 
 they had forfeited their rights as citizens, and banishing 
 them from the kingdom : their proscription lasted as 
 long as the king lived, and they did not return to Scot- 
 land until after his death. The result was that, although 
 they then resumed their old position near the throne, 
 and occupied the most important offices, through the 
 influence of Murray, who, it will be remembered, was a 
 Douglas on his mother's side, they never forgave the 
 daughter for the father's hatred. 
 
 Thus it was that James Douglas, though he was 
 Chancellor of the realm, and in that capacity bound to 
 see that the laws were executed, took the lead in a con- 
 spiracy, the object of which was a violation of every 
 law, divine and human. 
 
 Douglas's first idea was to treat Eizzio as the favorites 
 of James III. had been treated at the Bridge of Lauder, 
 to go through the form of a trial, that is, and then hang 
 him. But such a death would not satisfy Darnley's 
 desire for vengeance : as the Queen was the one whom 
 he really wanted to punish in the person of Rizzio, he de- 
 manded that the murder should be done in her presence. 
 
 Douglas took Lord Ruthven into the plot, a lazy, 
 debauched sybarite, who promised to carry his co-opera- 
 tion so far as to don a cuirass : having made sure of one 
 powerful accomplice, he set about finding others to assist 
 him.
 
 32 MARY STUART. 
 
 The conspiracy, however, was not hatched so secretly 
 that something of it did not transpire, and Rizzio re- 
 ceived several warnings which he disdained to notice. 
 Sir James Melville, among others, tried in every possible 
 way, to impress upon him the dangerous position which 
 a stranger enjoying the sovereign's entire confidence 
 occupied at a court so barbarous and jealous as that of 
 Scotland. Rizzio received these hints as if he were 
 determined not to apply them to himself, and Melville, 
 feeling that he had done all that his conscience called 
 upon him to do, forbore to insist further. 
 
 Then came a French priest who was considered a very 
 skillful astrologer: he made his way to Rizzio's pres- 
 ence, and warned him that the stars said that he was in 
 peril of his life, and that he must be especially distrust- 
 ful of a certain bastard. Rizzio replied that he had 
 sacrificed his life to the duties of his position, in antici- 
 pation, the day that he was first honored with the confi- 
 dence of his sovereign, but that since then he had taken 
 notice that the Scotch were, in general, very quick to 
 threaten, but slow to act. As to the bastard of whom 
 he spoke, who undoubtedly was the Earl of Murray, he 
 knew better than to come far enough into Scotland for 
 his sword to reach him, though it were long enough to 
 reach from Dumfries to Edinburgh : which was another 
 way of saying that Murray would pass the rest of his 
 life in England in exile, for Dumfries was a frontier 
 town. Meanwhile the plot pursued the even tenor of 
 its way, and Douglas and Ruthven, having selected 
 their accomplices and made their preparations, sought 
 out Darnley to close the bargain. As the price of the 
 bloody service they had undertaken to do for the king- 
 consort they demanded his promise to obtain the par- 
 don of Murray and the other noblemen who were
 
 MARY STUART. 33 
 
 compromised with him in the " Hun about Raid" Darn- 
 ley promised whatever they wished, and a courier was 
 sent to Murray to advise him of the plot which was in 
 preparation, and to suggest that he hold himself in readi- 
 ness to return to Scotland as soon as he should hear of 
 its consummation. This point settled, they made Darn- 
 ley sign a statement to the effect that he was the pro- 
 moter and leader of the undertaking. 
 
 The other assassins were the Earl of Morton, the Earl 
 of Ruthven, George Douglas, the bastard of Angus, 
 Lindsay and Andrew Carew. The rest were soldiers, 
 veritable murdering machines, who did not even know 
 what they were wanted for. Darnley reserved the right 
 to fix the time. 
 
 Two days after that on which the arrangements were 
 completed, Darnley having been notified that the Queen 
 was alone with Rizzio, undertook to satisfy himself as to 
 the degree of favor with which the minister was honored 
 by her. Consequently he tried to enter her apartment 
 by a private door of which he always had the key upon 
 him : but he turned the key in the lock to no purpose, 
 the door would not open. Then Darnley knocked, giv- 
 ing his name : but his wife had come to hold him in such 
 utter contempt that she left him standing outside, al- 
 though, even if she had been alone with Rizzio, she would 
 have had ample time to send him away. Darnley, , 
 angered beyond endurance, by this last stroke, sent for 
 Morton, Ruthven, Lennox, Lindsay and Douglas, and 
 fixed the day after the morrow for the murder. 
 
 They had arranged all the details, and allotted the 
 parts which each was to play in the bloody drama, when 
 suddenly, and just when they least expected it, the door 
 opened, and Mary Stuart appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 " My Lords," she said, " it is useless for you to hold 
 
 Vol. IV. 3.
 
 34 MARY STUART. 
 
 these secret meetings. I am fully informed as to your 
 plot, and with God's help I will soon apply a remedy." 
 
 Thereupon, and before the conspirators had time to 
 recover from their surprise, she closed the door and dis- 
 appeared, a fleeting, but ominous vision. They were all 
 struck dumb. Morton was the first to find his tongue. 
 
 " My Lords," he said, " we are playing a game of life 
 and death, and the prize is not for the cleverest or the 
 strongest, but the most prompt. If we do not make an 
 end of this man, we are lost ourselves. Therefore we 
 must not wait until the day after to-morrow, but must 
 strike him down this evening." 
 
 All applauded this suggestion, even Ruthven, who 
 promised not to be behindhand, although he was still 
 pale and feverish from a drunken debauch. The only 
 change made in Morton's proposition was to postpone the 
 murder till the next day ; for they were all agreed that 
 at least a day was needed to get together the subordinate 
 conspirators, of whom there were some hundred and fifty. 
 
 The next day was the ninth of March, 1566. Mary, 
 who had inherited the hatred of etiquette and love of 
 freedom, which distinguished her father, James V., had 
 invited six people, including Rizzio, to supper. Darnley 
 was informed of this circumstance in the morning, and 
 immediately notified the conspirators that he would him- 
 self let them into the palace between six and seven in the 
 evening. They replied that they would be ready. 
 
 The morning was dark and stormy, as almost all the 
 early days of spring are in Scotland, and towards evening 
 the storm of snow and wind raged with greatly increased 
 violence. Mary was with Rizzio most of the day, and 
 Darnley, who stole several times to the private door, 
 could hear the sound of musical instruments, and the 
 voice of the favorite singing those sweet melodies which
 
 MARY STUART. 35 
 
 have come down to our day, and which the people of 
 Edinburgh still ascribe to him. They were to Mary a 
 reminder of her life in France, which the artists, who 
 had come thither in the suite of the Medicis, had made 
 an echo of Italy ; but to Darnley they were an insult, 
 and every time he went away from the door, his deter- 
 mination was strengthened. 
 
 At the appointed hour, the conspirators, who had 
 received the countersign during the day, knocked at the 
 castle gate, and were received by Darnley himself, who 
 was awaiting them at the postern wrapped in a great 
 cloak. The hundred and fifty soldiers glided at once 
 into an inner courtyard, where they took refuge under 
 the gun-sheds to protect themselves from the cold as well 
 as to avoid being seen against the snow which covered 
 the ground. A brilliantly lighted window looked upon 
 this courtyard ; it was in the Queen's cabinet, and the 
 soldiers were to burst in the door and rush to the assist- 
 ance of the chief conspirators at a signal to be given 
 from that window. 
 
 Having given these instructions, Darnley led Morton, 
 Ruthven, Lennox, Lindsay, Andrew Carew, and the 
 bastard of Douglas, to the room adjoining the cabinet, 
 separated from it only by a tapestry curtain, which hung 
 before the door. There they could hear everything that 
 was said, and land in the middle of the guests with a 
 single leap. 
 
 Darnley left them there with the strictest instructions 
 to maintain perfect silence, and to enter the cabinet when 
 they heard him cry : " Douglas !" He then went around 
 by way of the private corridor, so that the Queen's 
 suspicions might not be aroused by his unforeseen visit 
 when she saw him come in by the door he generally used. 
 
 Mary was at supper with her six guests, having Rizzio
 
 36 MARY BTUABT. 
 
 at her right hand, according to De Thou and Melville, 
 while Camden, on the other hand, asserts that he was 
 standing at a buffet, eating. The conversation was 
 lively and unconstrained, for everyone was thoroughly 
 enjoying that sense of well-being which one feels to be 
 warm and well-housed, sitting at a sumptuous table, 
 when the snow is pelting against the windows, and the 
 wind groaning in the chimney. Suddenly Mary noticed 
 that profound silence had succeeded the cheerful and 
 animated conversation in which the guests had been 
 engaged since they took their places at the table. From 
 the direction which their eyes took she suspected that 
 the cause of their embarrassment was behind her ; she 
 turned and saw Darnley leaning on the back of her 
 chair. The Queen shuddered ; for although her husband 
 had a smile upon his lips, there was something so sinister 
 in his expression as he looked at Rizzio, that it was 
 evident that something terrible was about to happen. 
 At the same moment Mary heard a heavy, dragging step 
 approaching the cabinet, the portiere was lifted and 
 Ruthven, pale as a ghost, and encased in armor, the 
 weight of which he could hardly sustain, appeared in 
 the doorway, and drawing his sword, stood silently lean- 
 ing upon it. The Queen thought he was suffering from 
 delirium tremens. 
 
 " What do you want, my Lord," she said, " and why 
 do you come to the palace thus armed ? " 
 
 " Ask the King, Madame," Ruthven replied gruffly. 
 " It is for him to tell you." 
 
 " Explain yourself, my Lord," Mary demanded, turn- 
 ing to Darnley ; " what is the meaning of such disregard 
 of the proprieties ? " 
 
 " It means, Madame," said Darnley, " that that man 
 (pointing to Rizzio) " must leave this place at once."
 
 MARY STUART. 37 
 
 " That man is in my service, my Lord," said Mary, 
 rising with a haughty gesture, " and therefore he receives 
 no orders from any but myself." 
 
 " Douglas ! " cried Darnley. 
 
 With that the conspirators, who had been drawing 
 nearer to Ruthven for some moments, fearing, from the 
 well-known fickleness of Darnley's character, that he 
 might not dare to pronounce the signal, and so would 
 have brought them there to no purpose, burst into the 
 room so precipitately that they upset the table. There- 
 upon, David Rizzio, seeing that he was the cause of this 
 irruption, threw himself on his knees behind the Queen, 
 seizing the hem of her dress, and crying in Italian: 
 " Gwistizia ! Guistizia ! ' ' 
 
 The Queen, true to her character, did not show any 
 fear at this ominous invasion of her apartments, but 
 stood before Rizzio, and sheltered him behind the mantle 
 of her majesty. But she relied too much upon the 
 respect of these nobles, whose fathers had been fighting 
 against their kings for five centuries. Andrew Carew 
 held a dagger to her breast, and threatened to kill her 
 if she persisted in defending him when they had resolved 
 that he must die. Then Darnley, without regard for the 
 Queen's pregnant condition, took her round the waist, 
 and dragged her away from Rizzio, who remained on 
 his knees, pale and trembling, while the bastard of 
 Douglas, fulfilling the prediction of the astrologer, took 
 Darnley's own dagger and buried it in the favorite's 
 breast, inflicting a grievous, but not a mortal wound. 
 Morton at once took him by the feet and dragged him 
 out of the room, leaving on the floor the long blood- 
 stain which is pointed out to-day. Then they all fell 
 upon him like dogs upon their prey, and when they were 
 weary of stabbing him, the body was pierced by fifty-six
 
 38 MARY STUART. 
 
 dagger thrusts! Meanwhile Darnley was holding the 
 Queen, who did not cease to cry for mercy, thinking 
 that Rizzio was still alive. But Ruthven appeared 
 again, paler than before, and nodded affirmatively in 
 response to Darnley's inquiry if he was dead. There- 
 upon he sat down, being unable to bear any more fatigue 
 in his weakened state, while the Queen, whom Darnley 
 had at last released, was still standing. 
 
 This was too much for Mary. 
 
 " My Lord," she cried, " who gave you leave to sit in 
 my presence ? What means such insolence ? " 
 
 " Madame," Ruthven replied, " it is not insolence, but 
 weakness, which causes me to act thus ; for I have taken 
 more exercise than the doctors allow in order to do your 
 husband a service." 
 
 Then he turned to a servant. 
 
 " Bring me a glass of wine," he said. 
 
 " Here is proof that I have earned it," he continued, 
 showing his bloody dagger to Darnley. 
 
 The valet obeyed, and Ruthven emptied his glass as 
 tranquilly as if he had just performed the most innocent 
 action in the world. 
 
 " My Lord," said the Queen, taking a step toward 
 him, " it may be that, being a woman, I shall never find 
 an opportunity to be revenged for this that you have 
 done, notwithstanding my longing and determination; 
 but," she added, striking her breast energetically, " the 
 son whom I am carrying here, for whose life you should 
 have had more respect, even though you respect my 
 person so little, will avenge me some day for all these 
 insults." 
 
 With a superb threatening gesture, she left the room 
 by Darnley's door, which she closed behind her. 
 
 The next moment there was a great noise on the other
 
 MARY STUART 
 The murder of David Rizzio.

 
 MARY STUART. 39 
 
 side of the portiere. Huntly, Athol, and Bothwell, the 
 latter of whom is to play a prominent part in the sequel, 
 were supping together in another part of the palace, 
 when they heard shouting and the clash of weapons. 
 They rushed with all haste in the direction of the sound, 
 and Athol, who went first, stumbled over the body of 
 Rizzio, which lay at the top of the stairway. They had 
 no idea who it was, but supposed, when they saw that a 
 man had been murdered, that there was some plot against 
 the King and Queen, and drew their swords to force the 
 door, which was guarded by Morton. But as soon as 
 Darnley saw how the land lay, he hurried from the 
 cabinet, followed by Ruthven, and showed himself to the 
 newcomers. 
 
 " My Lords," he said, " the Queen's person and my 
 own are in no danger, and nothing has been done here 
 except by our orders. Be good enough to withdraw ; 
 you will be fully informed when the time comes." 
 
 He raised Rizzio's head by the hair, while the bastard 
 of Douglas held a torch to the face so that it might be 
 recognized. 
 
 " You see who this is," said Darnley, " is it worth your 
 while to make trouble for yourselves on his account ? " 
 
 As soon as Huntly, Athol and Bothwell recognized 
 the musician-minister, they sheathed their swords, 
 saluted the King, and retired. 
 
 Mary left the room with no thought in her heart save 
 vengeance. But she realized that she could not wreak 
 vengeance on her husband and his accomplices all at one 
 time ; so she called into play all the fascination of her 
 wit and beauty to draw the King away from the others. 
 It was no difficult task, for when the brutal passion, 
 which often carried Darnley beyond all bounds, had time 
 to cool down, he was himself terrified at the foul deed
 
 40 MARY STUABT. 
 
 that had been done ; and while the assassins, in consul- 
 tation with Murray, were deciding that he should have 
 the crown matrimonial he was so ambitious to wear, 
 Darnley himself, as fickle as he was violent, as cowardly 
 as cruel, was negotiating another treaty in Mary's 
 very apartment and in sight of the blood which was 
 hardly dry; by that treaty he agreed to betray his 
 accomplices. 
 
 Three days after the scene we have described, the 
 murderers were amazed to learn that Darnley and Mary, 
 accompanied by Lord Seyton, had fled from Holyrood 
 Palace. In three days more a proclamation appeared, 
 signed by Mary at Dunbar Castle, summoning, in her 
 own name and in her husband's, all the nobles of Scot- 
 land, high and low, to join her, including those who were 
 compromised in the Hun and Raid, to whom she not 
 only granted full pardon, but gave her confidences once 
 more. In this way she separated Murray's cause from 
 that of Morton and the other assassins ; and these latter, 
 seeing that there was no more safety for them in Scot- 
 land, took refuge in England, where any enemy of the 
 Queen, notwithstanding the cordial relations apparently 
 subsisting between Mary and Elizabeth, could always 
 be sure of a warm welcome. Bothwell, whose impulse 
 had been to prevent the murder, was appointed Lord 
 Keeper of the kingdom. 
 
 Unfortunately for her own honor, Mary, who was 
 always more woman than queen, while Elizabeth, on 
 the other hand, was always more queen than woman, no 
 sooner felt herself firm on her throne once more, than 
 she caused Rizzio's body, which had been buried with- 
 out ceremony at the gate of the church nearest to 
 Holyrood, to be exhumed, and deposited in the sarco- 
 phagus of the kings of Scotland, thus compromising
 
 MARY STUART. 41 
 
 herself even more by the honors rendered the dead than 
 by the favors accorded the living. 
 
 This ill-advised demonstration naturally led to re- 
 newed dissension between Mary and Darnley ; and their 
 quarrels were the more bitter because, as we have seen, 
 the reconciliation, on Mary's side at least, was only 
 feigned. She felt that her approaching maternity added 
 much to her strength, so she threw aside all pretence, 
 left Darnley at Dunbar, and went thence to Edinburgh 
 Castle, where she was brought to bed on the nineteenth 
 of June, 1566, three months after the murder of Rizzio, 
 of a son, who afterwards became James VI. 
 
 Immediately after her delivery, Mary sent for Sir 
 James Melville, her usual envoy to Elizabeth, and 
 instructed him to carry the news to her, and at the same 
 time beg her to be the child's god-mother. When he 
 reached London, Melville went at once to the palace, 
 but a ball was in progress so that he could not see the 
 Queen ; he therefore informed Cecil, her minister, of the 
 purpose of his mission, and asked him to request his 
 mistress to give him audience on the morrow. 
 
 Elizabeth was going through the figures of a quadrille 
 when Cecil approached her and said in a low tone : 
 
 "Queen Mary, of Scotland, has given birth to a 
 son." 
 
 At these words she turned deathly pale, and gazed 
 wildly around as if she were on the point of fainting ; 
 she supported herself at first against a chair, but soon 
 her legs failed her, and she sat down, throwing her head 
 back, and absorbed in painful reflections. 
 
 One of the ladies of the court elbowed her way 
 through the circle which was formed around the Queen, 
 and asked her anxiously what she was thinking about 
 that made her so sad.
 
 42 MARY STUART. 
 
 " Why, Madame," said Elizabeth peevishly, " do you 
 not know how the Queen of Scots hath a fine son, and I 
 am but a barren stock, and shall die and leave no off- 
 spring ? " 
 
 But Elizabeth was too shrewd a politician, notwith- 
 standing her proneness to yield to first impulses, to com- 
 promise herself by making any further demonstration 
 of her chagrin. The ball went on as before, and the 
 interrupted quadrille was resumed and finished. 
 
 The following day Melville had his audience. Eliza- 
 beth received him with the greatest cordiality, assuring 
 him of the great pleasure she derived from the news he 
 brought, which had cured her, she said, of an indisposi- 
 tion she had suffered from for a fortnight past. Melville 
 replied that his mistress had lost no time in causing her 
 to be informed of her own happiness, knowing that she 
 had no better friend ; but he added that her happiness 
 had nearly cost her her life, as she had suffered terribly. 
 He kept recurring to this point, in order to increase the 
 aversion of the Queen of England for the married state. 
 
 "You need have no fear, Melville," Elizabeth replied 
 at last : " you need not emphasize that so much, for I 
 shall never marry. My kingdom takes the place of a 
 husband, and my subjects are my children. When I die 
 I wish these words to be carved on my tomb : 
 
 " Here lies Elizabeth, who reigned so many years, and 
 died a virgin." 
 
 Melville took advantage of the opportunity to remind 
 the Queen of the desire she had expressed three or four 
 years before, to see Mary : but she said that not only did 
 the affairs of her realm require her constant presence, 
 but she was not anxious, after all she had heard of the 
 beauty of her rival, to expose herself to a comparison 
 fraught with danger to her pride. So she gave her
 
 MARY 8TUABT. 43 
 
 proxy to the Duke of Bedford, who went north with 
 several other noblemen to Stirling Castle, where the 
 young prince was baptized with great pomp, and re- 
 ceived the name of Charles James. 
 
 It was observed that Darnley did not appear at the 
 ceremony, and his absence seemed to scandalize Queen 
 Elizabeth's representative. On the other hand, James 
 Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, was very much in evidence 
 there. 
 
 It was the fact that Bothwell, since the evening when 
 he heard Mary's shrieks, and ran to prevent the murder 
 of Rizzio, had made great strides in the Queen's favor ; 
 and he had openly espoused her party as opposed to those 
 of the King and the Earl of Murray. 
 
 Bothwell was a man of thirty-five, the head of the 
 powerful Hepburn family, who wielded great influence 
 in the Eastern Lotheans, and the County of Berwick. 
 He was of violent and brutal temper, a slave to every 
 vice, and capable of any villainy to gratify the ambition 
 which he did not take the trouble to conceal. In his 
 youth he was considered brave, but he had had no se- 
 rious occasion to draw his sword for a long time. 
 
 If the King's authority had been shaken by Rizzio's 
 influence, it was altogether overthrown by Bothwell's. 
 The great nobles, following the example of the favorite, 
 no longer stood in Darnley's presence, and gradually 
 ceased to treat him even as their equal : his suite was 
 cut down, his silver plate was taken away, and the few 
 officers who remained with him made him purchase their 
 services with bitter mortification. The Queen, for her 
 part, no longer took the slightest pains to conceal her 
 aversion for him, and openly avoided him. She carried 
 her avoidance of him to such a point that one day when 
 she had gone with Bothwell to Alway, she started back
 
 44 MARY STUART. 
 
 again immediately when Darnley joined them there. 
 He kept his patience, however, until a fresh imprudence 
 brought about the terrible catastrophe which had been 
 foreseen by many from the very beginning of her inti- 
 macy with Bothwell. 
 
 In the last days of October, 1566, the Queen was 
 holding a court of justice at Jedburgh, when word was 
 brought that Bothwell had been severely wounded in 
 the hand, while trying to lay hold of a malefactor named 
 John Elliot of the Park. She was just about to go to 
 the council, but she immediately postponed the sitting 
 till the morrow, and started on horseback for the Hermi- 
 tage where Bothwell was lying. She made the whole 
 journey without dismounting, although the distance was 
 twenty miles, and the road lay through forests and 
 swamps and across rivers; and after spending some 
 hours te'te-a-te'te with him she rode back to Jedburgh 
 with equal haste, arriving there during the night. 
 
 Although this performance made a great noise, exag- 
 gerated as it was by the enemies of the Queen who were 
 particularly numerous in the Reformed religion, Darnley 
 did not hear of it for nearly two months, when Bothwell 
 was completely cured, and had returned with the Queen 
 to Edinburgh. 
 
 Darnley made up his mind then that he ought not to 
 endure such humiliation any longer. But, since his be- 
 trayal of his accomplices, there was not a nobleman in 
 all Scotland, who would deign to draw sword for him, so 
 he resolved to go to the Earl of Lennox, his father, hop- 
 ing that his influence would avail to rally the malcon- 
 tents, who were very numerous since Bothwell's rise in 
 favor. Unfortunately Darnley, indiscreet and rash, as 
 always, confided his plan to some of his officers, who 
 informed Bothwell of their master's purpose.
 
 MARY STUART. 46 
 
 Bothwell made no open objection to his journey : but 
 Darnley was not a mile out of Edinburgh when he 
 began to feel violent pains : he kept on, however, and 
 arrived at Glasgow very ill. He at once sent for a cele- 
 brated physician, one James Abrenets, who found his 
 body covered with pustules, and declared unhesitatingly 
 that he was poisoned. There are those, however, Sir 
 Walter Scott, among them, who assert that his trouble 
 was nothing more nor less than small-pox. 
 
 However that may be, the Queen, in the face of her 
 husband's danger, seemed to forget her resentment ; she 
 sent her own physician on ahead, and went herself to 
 join Darnley, heedless of the risk she ran. To be sure, 
 if we are to put faith in certain letters, dated at Glasgow, 
 and which Mary is accused of having written to Both- 
 well, she knew too well the nature of the disease to fear 
 contagion. As these letters are little known, and seem 
 to us to possess great interest, we will transcribe them 
 here : later we shall take occasion to tell how they fell 
 into the hands of the confederate noblemen, and how 
 they passed from their hands to Elizabeth, who ex- 
 claimed joyfully when she received them : 
 
 " God's death ! Now I hold her life and honor in my 
 hands ! " 
 
 FIRST LETTER. 
 
 " When I came away from the place where I left my 
 heart, judge in what a condition I was poor body with- 
 out a soul ! Throughout dinner I spoke to nobody, and 
 nobody dared to come near me, for it was easy to see 
 that it would not be good for them to do so. When I 
 was within a league of the city, the Earl of Lennox 
 sent one of his gentlemen to offer his respects to me, and
 
 46 MARY STUART. 
 
 to apologize for his not coming himself: he sent word to 
 me, further, that he did not dare to appear before me 
 since the rebuke I administered to him at Cunninghan. 
 The messenger besought me, as of his own motion, to 
 examine his master's conduct to see if my suspicions 
 were well founded. I replied that fear was an incurable 
 disease, that the Earl of Lennox would not be so dis- 
 turbed if his conscience did not reproach him, and that 
 if I was rather quick with him, it was no more than a 
 fair reprisal for the letter he wrote to me. 
 
 " Not one person who lives in the city has called upon 
 me, which leads me to think that they are all in his in- 
 terest : more than that, they speak of him as well as of 
 his son, in the highest terms. The King sent for Joachim 
 yesterday, and asked him why I did not take up my 
 quarters with him, adding that my presence would cure 
 him at once: he also asked what my purpose was in 
 coming : whether it was to be reconciled with him : 
 whether you were here : whether I had prepared a list 
 of the members of my household : whether I had taken 
 Paris and Gilbert for secretaries: and whether I was 
 still determined to dismiss Joseph. I don't know who 
 has kept him so well posted. There is nothing, not even 
 Sebastien's marriage, which he doesn't know all about. 
 
 " I asked him to explain one of his letters in which he 
 complained of the cruelty of certain people. He replied 
 that he was in despair, but that my presence caused him 
 so much joy that he thought he would die of it. He 
 reproached me several times because I seemed thought- 
 fill : I left him to go to supper ; he begged me to return 
 and I did so. He then told me the history of his illness, 
 and said that his only wish was to make a will leaving 
 everything to me, adding that I was in a measure the 
 cause of his trouble which he attributed to my coldness.
 
 MARY STUAET. 47 
 
 "'You ask me,' he said, 'who these people are of 
 whom I complain : it is of you, cruel one, of you, whom 
 I have not been able to appease by my tears and my 
 repentance. I know that I insulted you, but not in the 
 matter which you charged me with : I have also insulted 
 some of your subjects, but you forgave me that. I am 
 young, and you say that I continually fall back into the 
 same faults : but is there not hope that a young man like 
 myself, entirely without experience, will give the lie to 
 appearances, repent, and correct his errors with time? 
 If you will pardon me but once more, I will promise 
 never to offend you again. The only favor which I ask 
 is that we live together once more as husband and wife, 
 have but one table and one bed : if you are inflexible, I 
 will never rise again. Tell me, I implore you, what you 
 decide to do : God alone knows how I suffer, and all 
 because I think of nothing but you, because I love you 
 and worship you, and you alone. If I have sometimes 
 offended you, you should blame yourself for it : for when 
 any one offends me, if I were able to complain to you, I 
 should never confide my annoyance to others : but when 
 we are at odds with each other, I am compelled to lock 
 my sorrow in my own bosom, and it drives me mad.* 
 
 " He urged me to remain with him, and to occupy an 
 apartment in his house : but I excused myself. I told 
 him that he needed to be purged, and that it could not 
 be done conveniently at Glasgow. Then he said that he 
 knew that I had ordered a litter for him, but that he would 
 much prefer to make the journey with me. I believe 
 that he thought I intended to imprison him, but I replied 
 that I would have him taken to Craigmillar, where he 
 would find physicians to attend him ; that I would stay 
 with him, and we should be where we could see my son. 
 He replied that he would go wherever I chose to take
 
 48 MARY BTUART. 
 
 him, provided that I would grant what he asked. He 
 does not wish that anybody should see him. 
 
 " He said hundreds of pretty things to me, which I 
 cannot remember, but which would surprise even you. 
 He would not let me go, but insisted upon my sitting up 
 with him. For my own part, I pretended to believe all 
 he said, and appeared deeply interested in him. Indeed 
 I never saw him so insignificant or so humble : and if I 
 had not known how easily his heart overflows, and if 
 mine were not impenetrable to every sort of weapon ex- 
 cept those with which you have wounded it, I believe I 
 should have allowed myself to be touched : but pray do 
 not be alarmed, for I would die rather than prove false 
 to what I have promised you. I entreat you to be 
 governed by a similar feeling in your dealings with the 
 the perfidious wretches who will do their utmost to es- 
 trange you from me. I believe that all these people 
 were cast in the same mould : this one has tears in his 
 eyes : he humbles himself before everybody, from the 
 highest to the lowest, hoping to interest them in his 
 behalf, and to make them pity him. His father was 
 taken with bleeding at the nose and mouth to-day : you 
 can guess the meaning of these symptoms : I have not 
 yet seen him for he is confined to the house. The King 
 insists that I shall feed him, or he will not eat at all : 
 but whatever I do, you will not be taken in by it any 
 more than I am myself. We are bound, you and I, to 
 two people of a very detestable sort : let us pray that 
 hell will break these bonds, and that heaven will forge 
 softer ones for us, which nothing can break, and make 
 of us the most faithful and loving couple that ever 
 breathed ! There is my profession of the faith, in which 
 I wish to die. 
 
 " Excuse my scrawling : you will be compelled to
 
 MARY STUART. 49 
 
 guess at more thaii half of it, but I know no remedy, I 
 am forced to write very hurriedly while everybody is 
 asleep: but never fear, I take untold pleasure in my 
 vigil : for I cannot sleep as the others do, since I am 
 unable to sleep as I would like, in your arms. 
 
 " I am going to bed now : to-morrow I will finish my 
 letter : I have too many things to write you, and the 
 night is too far advanced. Imagine my suffering : I am 
 writing to you : I am talking to you of myself, and yet 
 I must stop. 
 
 " I cannot refrain however from filling hastily the bit 
 of paper that I have left. Curses on the madman who 
 torments me so ! but for him I might be talking to you 
 of more agreeable things. He is not much changed : 
 and yet he took a great deal of it. But his fetid breath 
 almost overpowered me : for it is much worse than your 
 cousin's: you can imagine that that is an additional 
 reason for my not going near him : on the contrary, I 
 get as far away as I possibly can, and sit on a chair at 
 the foot of his bed. 
 
 " Let me see if I have forgotten anything : 
 
 " His father's messenger on the road : 
 
 " His examination of Joachim : 
 
 " The last of my household : 
 
 " The people who are with me : 
 
 " The purpose of my coming : 
 
 " Joseph : 
 
 " The interview between him and myself: 
 
 " His desire to be agreeable to me and his repentance : 
 
 " Explanation of his letter. 
 
 " Livingston : 
 
 "Ah! I forgot that. Yesterday Livingston said to 
 me in an undertone at the supper table at Madame de 
 Here's that he drank to the health of I knew whom, and 
 
 Vol. IV. 4.
 
 50 MARY STUART. 
 
 begged me to join him in the toast. After supper, as 
 I was leaning on his shoulder near the fire, he said to 
 me: 
 
 " ' Isn't it true that these visits are very agreeable to 
 those who pay and those who receive them ? But, no 
 matter how delighted they may seem to be at your com- 
 ing, I defy their delight to equal the sorrow of him whom 
 you have left alone to-day, and who will never know 
 content until he sees you again.' 
 
 " I asked him whom he referred to. He replied, press- 
 ing my arm : 
 
 " ' To one of those who did not come with you : it's an 
 easy matter for you to guess whom I mean, among them.' 
 
 " I worked on the bracelet until two o'clock : I have 
 enclosed a little key, attached by two ribbons. It isn't 
 as well done as I could have wished : but I had not the 
 time to do it better : I will make you a better one at the 
 first opportunity. Be careful that no one sees it in your 
 possession, for I have worked on it before everybody, and 
 it will surely be recognized. 
 
 " I constantly recur, in spite of myself, to the horrible 
 deed you urge upon me. You force me to dissimulation 
 and treachery which make me shudder. I should rather 
 die, believe me, than commit such a crime, for the 
 thought makes my heart bleed. He will not go with me 
 unless I promise to sit at the same table and occupy the 
 same bed with him, as before, and not to leave him so 
 frequently. If I consent, he will do, he says, whatever 
 I wish, and will go with me to the ends of the world : 
 but he has entreated me to postpone my departure two 
 days. I have pretended to consent to whatever he 
 wishes : but I told him to say nothing to anybody of 
 our reconciliation for fear that some lords would take 
 umbrage. In short, I can do with him as I please.
 
 MARY STUART. 51 
 
 "Alas! I have never deceived anybody; but what 
 would I not do to please you ? Command, and come 
 what may I will obey. But do you see if you cannot 
 devise some secret means of doing it, in the guise of a 
 remedy. He is to be purged at Craigmillar, and to take 
 the baths there : for some days he will not go out. So 
 far as I am able to judge, he is very suspicious : he has 
 great confidence in what I say, but not enough to un- 
 bosom himself to me. If you wish I will tell him every- 
 thing : I cannot take pleasure in deceiving anyone who 
 trusts me. However, it shall be just as you say : do not 
 esteem me any the less for it, for it was you who advised 
 me to do it : my desire for vengeance would never have 
 carried me so far. Sometimes he attacks me on a very 
 sensitive spot, and touches me to the quick, when he 
 tells me that his crimes are well-known to him, but that 
 greater ones are committed every day, and that it is use- 
 less to try to conceal them, because all crimes, great and 
 small, always come to men's knowledge, and are common 
 subjects of conversation. 
 
 " He sometimes says, speaking of Madame de Here : 
 ' I trust that her accommodations are satisfactory.' 
 
 " He assures me that many people thought, and that 
 he himself thought, that I was not my own mistress : 
 that is because I rejected the conditions he offered me, 
 I doubt not. It is certain that he is very uneasy on the 
 subject you know of, and that he suspects that there are 
 designs upon his life. He is in despair whenever the 
 conversation touches upon you or Lethington or my 
 brother. It is true, nevertheless, that he says neither 
 good nor ill of the absent, but always shuns speaking of 
 them at all. His father is confined to his house : I have 
 not seen him yet. 
 
 "The Hamiltons are here in great numbers, and
 
 52 MARY STUART. 
 
 accompany me everywhere ; all the friends of ' the other ' 
 follow me whenever I go to see him. He begged me to 
 be present to-morrow when he gets up. My courier will 
 tell you the rest. 
 
 " Burn my letter ; it would be dangerous to keep it. 
 Nor, indeed, would it be worth while, as it is filled with 
 black thoughts. 
 
 " Do not you be offended, I am sad and anxious to-day, 
 when I throw honor, remorse and danger to the winds 
 to please you. Do not take what I say in bad part, I 
 pray you, and do not listen to the malevolent suggestions 
 of your wife's brother ; he is a villain to whom you 
 ought not to lend your ear to the prejudice of the most 
 affectionate and faithful mistress who ever lived. Above 
 all do not allow yourself to be moved by that woman ; 
 her crocodile tears are of no importance in comparison 
 with the real tears I shed, and with the suffering which 
 my love and my constancy lead me to endure, in order 
 that I may succeed her. It is for that alone that I 
 betray, in spite of myself, all those who may throw 
 obstacles in the way of my love. May God be merciful 
 to me, and send you all the prosperity which your hum- 
 ble and loving friend wishes you your friend, who 
 hopes soon to receive a different recompense at your 
 hands. It is very late ; but I always lay aside my pen 
 regretfully when I am writing to you ; however I will 
 not finish my letter until I have kissed your hands. 
 
 " Pardon the execrable writing ; perhaps I wrote it so 
 badly purposely, so that you might be obliged to read it 
 several times. I have transcribed hastily what I had 
 jotted down on my tablets, and my paper failed me. 
 Remember a loving friend, and write often to her ; love 
 me as dearly as I love you, and remember 
 
 " Madame de Here's words :
 
 MARY STUART. 53 
 
 " The Englishmen : 
 " The Duke of Argyle : 
 "The Earl of Bothwell: 
 " The house at Edinburgh." 
 
 SECOND LETTER. 
 
 " It would seem that you have forgotten me during 
 our separation, especially as you told me when you went 
 away that you would write me full details of everything 
 new that happened. The hope of hearing from you 
 gave me almost as much pleasure as your return would 
 have done ; you have postponed it longer than you 
 promised. For myself, I continue to play my part 
 although you do not write me. I shall take him to 
 Craigmillar on Monday, and he will stay there through 
 Wednesday. I shall go to Edinburgh that day to be 
 bled, unless you order me to do otherwise. He is in 
 higher spirits than usual, and is better than ever. He 
 tells me everything he can think of to persuade me that 
 he loves me ; he is attentive to me beyond measure, and 
 anticipates my every want. All this is so agreeable to me 
 that I never enter his room that the pain in my side 
 doesn't attack me, his company is so burdensome to me. 
 If Paris brings me what I asked him for I shall soon be 
 cured. If you have not returned when I go to the place 
 you know of, write me, I implore you, and tell me what 
 you want me to do ; for if you do not manage the affair 
 prudently, I warn you that the whole burden will fall 
 upon me. Consider it in every light and mature your 
 plans with care. I send you my letter by Beaton, who 
 will leave here on the day on which Balfour was to leave. 
 It only remains for me to beg you to keep me informed 
 of your movements." 
 Glasgow, Saturday morning.
 
 64 MARY STUART. 
 
 THIRD LETTER. 
 
 " I stopped at the place you know of longer than I 
 should have done, if it had not been that I desired to 
 draw from him something which the bearer of these 
 presents will tell you ; it affords us an excellent oppor- 
 tunity to cloak our designs. I have promised to bring 
 him to-morrow the person you know of. Look after 
 what remains to be done if you are favorably impressed 
 with it. 
 
 " Alas ! I have violated our agreement, for you forbade 
 my writing or sending a courier to you. But really I 
 have no purpose to offend you ; if you knew the fears 
 which disturb my soul, you would not be so bitter and 
 suspicious yourself. But I take it in good part, for I am 
 sure that it is nothing but love which makes you so 
 love which is dearer to me than all else under heaven. 
 
 " My own feelings are a sure guaranty of that love, and 
 answer to me for your heart ; upon that point my con- 
 fidence is without reserve ; but explain yourself fully, 
 in pity's name, and open your heart to me. Otherwise 
 I shall fear that my unhappy destiny and the too 
 auspicious influence of the stars upon the destiny of 
 women less affectionate and faithful than I, have caused 
 me to be supplanted in your heart, as Medea was in 
 that of Jason ; not that I wish to compare you to a lover 
 so hapless as Jason was, or to put myself on a level with 
 a monster like Medea, although your influence over me 
 is powerful enough to make me do as she did whenever 
 our love demands it, and whenever I am driven to it to 
 retain your heart, which belongs to me and to me alone ; 
 for I consider that my own which I have purchased with 
 the devoted and faithful love for you which is consuming 
 me a love which is more ardent to-day than ever before
 
 MARY STUART. 55 
 
 and which will end only with my life, a love, in short, 
 which makes me scorn the perils and remorse which are 
 like to be its sad results. As the price of this sacrifice, 
 I ask but one favor, and that is that you will remember 
 a place which is not far from here : I do not demand 
 that you keep your promise to-morrow, but I do desire 
 to see you that I may make an end of your suspicions. 
 I ask but one thing of God : that He will enable you to 
 read my heart, which is less mine than yours, and that 
 He will preserve you from all ill, at least during my 
 life ; life is dear to me only so far as it gives you pleas- 
 ure to have me live. I am just going to bed ; adieu ; 
 let me hear from you to-morrow morning, for I shall be 
 anxious until I do. Like the bird escaped from its cage, 
 or the turtle-dove who has lost her mate, I shall bewail 
 your absence in solitude, however brief it may be. This 
 letter, more fortunate than I, will go where I cannot go, 
 if the messenger does not find you asleep, which I fear. 
 I did not dare to write in the presence of Joseph, 
 Sebastien and Joachim, and they did not leave me until 
 just before I began." 
 
 As may be seen by these letters, assuming them to be 
 genuine, Mary was the victim of one of those insensate 
 passions for Bothwell, which are always the stronger in 
 proportion to the difficulty of accounting for them. 
 Bothwell was no longer young, he was not handsome, 
 and yet Mary sacrificed for his sake a young husband, 
 who was considered to be one of the handsomest men of 
 his time. It seemed like witchcraft. 
 
 Thus we see that Darnley, as he was the only obstacle 
 to the union of the lovers, had been condemned long 
 since, by Bothwell at all events, if not by Mary ; but 
 his vigorous constitution had proved too much for the
 
 56 MARY STUART. 
 
 poison, so they sought other means to put him to death. 
 The Queen, as she told Bothwell in her letter, refused 
 to take Darnley with her, and returned alone to Edin- 
 burgh. From that city she gave orders that the King 
 should be taken, not to Stirling or to Holyrood, but to 
 the Abbey of Kirk-of-Field. He made some remon- 
 strance when he was informed of this decision, but as 
 he had no power to oppose it, he contented himself with 
 complaints of the loneliness of the abode assigned to him ; 
 but the Queen made answer that she could not receive 
 him at the moment, either at Stirling or at Holyrood, 
 for fear that her son would take the disease if it were 
 contagious ; so he had no choice but to resign himself to 
 stay where he was. 
 
 The abbey stood entirely by itself and its location was 
 not at all calculated to dissipate the fears which invaded 
 the King's mind. It was surrounded by two ruined 
 churches and two cemeteries, and the nearest house was 
 almost a gun-shot away ; and as that house belonged to 
 the Hamiltons, who were Darnley's mortal enemies, its 
 proximity was far from reassuring. Farther away, to 
 the north, was a cluster of miserable huts, called the 
 " Thieves' Crossroads." On making the circuit of his 
 new domicile Darnley noticed that two holes had been 
 made in the wall, each large enough for a man to pass 
 through ; he requested that they be stopped up, because 
 they might be used by evil disposed persons to effect an 
 entrance ; they promised to send a mason to do as he 
 wished, but nothing was done about it, and the holes 
 remained open and unobstructed. 
 
 The day after his arrival at Kirk-of-Field, the King 
 noticed a light in the nearest house, which he supposed 
 to be uninhabited. He made inquiries of Alexander 
 Durham as to the meaning of it, and was told that the
 
 MARY STUART. 57 
 
 Archbishop of St. Andrews had left his palace at Edin- 
 burgh for some unknown reason, and had taken up his 
 abode there the day before. This intelligence served 
 only to increase his anxiety, for the Archbishop of St. 
 Andrews was one of his most outspoken foes. 
 
 Darnley, abandoned by all his servants, one after 
 another, occupied the first floor of a little isolated 
 pavilion, with no attendant save Alexander Durham, 
 his valet, whom we have already mentioned. Darnley 
 was particularly attached to him, and, moreover, he was 
 in momentary apprehension of some attempt upon his 
 life ; so he ordered him to bring his bed to his room, 
 which was thenceforth occupied by both. 
 
 During the night of February 8th, Darnley aroused 
 Durham, and told him that he thought he had heard 
 steps in the room beneath his. Durham rose, took his 
 sword in one hand and a candle in the other, and went 
 down to the ground floor ; but, although Darnley was 
 very certain that he could not be mistaken, he came up 
 again a moment after and said that he could see 
 nobody. 
 
 The following morning passed without incident. 
 
 The Queen had arranged a marriage for one of her 
 servants, Sebastien, an Auvergnat, whom she had 
 brought with her from France, and to whom she was 
 much attached. The wedding was set for that day, but 
 the King sent to Mary to remind her that he had not 
 seen her for two days, so she left the scene of the festiv- 
 ities about six o'clock in the evening, and went to pay 
 him a visit, accompanied by the Countess of Argyle and 
 the Countess of Huntly. While she was there, Durham, 
 in preparing his bed, set fire to the straw mattress, 
 which was destroyed, as was a part of the hair mattress. 
 He threw them all out of the window still burning, for
 
 68 MARY STUART. 
 
 fear that some of the other furniture would take fire, 
 and thus was left without a bed to lie on. He asked 
 permission to go into the city to sleep, but Darnley, who 
 had not forgotten the alarm of the preceding night, and 
 was somewhat astonished at the haste with which 
 Durham had thrown all his bedding out of the window, 
 begged him not to go away, and offered to let him have 
 one of his mattresses, or to give him a share of his own 
 bed. But Durham insisted, saying that he felt ill, and 
 would be very glad of the opportunity to see a doctor 
 during the evening. Thereupon the Queen interceded 
 for him and promised Darnley that she would send 
 another servant to pass the night with him : he had no 
 choice, therefore, but to yield, and he gave Durham leave 
 of absence for the night, after making Mary repeat her 
 promise to send some one to replace him. 
 
 At this moment, Paris, of whom the Queen speaks in 
 her letters, entered the room ; he was a young French- 
 man, who had been some years in Scotland in the 
 service of Bothwell and Seaton, and was now in the 
 Queen's service. She rose when she saw him, and said 
 to Darnley, who tried to detain her : 
 
 " Really, it's impossible, my Lord ; I left poor Sebas- 
 tien's wedding-feast to come and see you, and I must 
 return, for I have agreed to wear a mask at the ball." 
 
 The King did not dare to urge her any further ; he 
 simply reminded her of her promise to send a servant 
 to him, which promise Mary reiterated as she went out 
 with her suite. Durham had taken his leave the moment 
 he received permission. 
 
 It was nine o'clock ; Darnley, left alone, secured his 
 doors carefully on the inside and went to bed, ready to 
 rise at any moment and open the door for the servant 
 who was to pass the night with him. His head was
 
 MARY STUART. 59 
 
 hardly on the pillow before he heard the same noise he 
 had heard the night before. He listened with all the 
 intentness of fear, and soon he was absolutely certain 
 that several men were walking about in the room below. 
 To call for help was useless, to leave the room perilous : 
 to wait was the only course left for him to pursue. He 
 made sure once more that the doors were securely 
 fastened, put his sword under his pillow, extinguished 
 his lamp for fear that its light would betray him, and 
 waited in silence for the servant to arrive : but the hours 
 rolled by and the servant did not appear. 
 
 At one o'clock in the morning, after a long interview 
 with the Queen in the presence of the captain of the 
 guards, Bothwell returned to his quarters and changed 
 his dress. In a few moments he came out again wrapped 
 in the long cloak of a German hussar, walked through 
 the guard house, and caused the castle gates to be opened 
 for him. Once outside, he made all haste to Kirk-of- 
 Field, and entered the grounds through the gap in the 
 wall. He had taken but a few steps in the garden when 
 he met James Balfour, governor of the castle of Edin- 
 burgh. 
 
 " Well," he said, " how go the preparations? " 
 
 "Everything is ready," Balfour replied, "and we 
 were only awaiting your arrival to light the match." 
 
 " Good ! " rejoined Bothwell, " but first I must be sure 
 that he is in his room." 
 
 He opened the door of the pavilion with a false key, 
 then crept up the stairs on tiptoe and listened at Darn- 
 ley's door. Darnley, hearing no more noise, had at last 
 dropped off to sleep, but his irregular breathing showed 
 how troubled his sleep was. It mattered little to Both- 
 well, however, whether his sleep was troubled or un- 
 troubled, so long as he was really in his room. He crept
 
 60 MARY STUART. 
 
 down the stairs as softly as he had gone up, and taking a 
 lantern from one of the conspirators, went into the lower 
 room to see for himself if everything was prepared. 
 This room was full of casks of powder, and a fuse was 
 all laid, needing only the spark to communicate its flame 
 to the volcano. Bothwell thereupon retired to the end 
 of the garden, with Balfour, David, Chambers, and 
 three or four others, leaving one man to set fire to the 
 fuse. An instant later this man joined them. 
 
 Some anxious moments ensued, during which the 
 conspirators gazed at each other in silence, as if they 
 were afraid of the sound of their own voices. At last, 
 as the explosion did not materialize, Bothwell turned 
 impatiently to the man who was to have lighted the 
 fuse, and reproached him for having failed to do it, 
 doubtless because he was afraid. He assured his master 
 that everything was certainly all right, and when Both- 
 well, in his impatience, started to go back to the house 
 and make sure, he offered to return, himself, and see 
 what the trouble was. He did actually go all the way 
 back to the pavilion, looked through a sort of air-hole, 
 and saw that the fuse was still burning. He ran back 
 at full speed to Bothwell and the others, and was just 
 motioning to them that all was well when there was a 
 terrible detonation, the pavilion seemed to rise bodily in 
 the air, and the city and the bay were illuminated with a 
 brilliancy surpassing that of the brightest noon-day. 
 Then everything became blacker than before, and the 
 silence was broken only by the falling of stones and 
 timbers as thick as hailstones in a tempest. 
 
 The next day they found the King's body in a neigh- 
 boring garden : it was protected from the action of the 
 fire by the mattresses upon which he was lying : he had 
 thrown himself upon his bed in dressing gown and
 
 MABY 8TUART. 61 
 
 slippers, and was found in the same condition except that 
 the slippers had fallen a few feet away from where his 
 body lay, it was supposed by many people that he was 
 strangled in the first place, and then carried there : but 
 the most probable theory is that the murderers relied 
 upon the powder alone : it was a sufficiently powerful 
 auxiliary in itself for them to have no fear that it would 
 fail of its effect. 
 
 Was the Queen privy to this crime, or was she not ? 
 Nobody has ever known save herself, Bothwell, and 
 God. But whether she was, or was not, her conduct, 
 imprudent then as always, gave the appearance of truth, 
 at least, if not absolute certainty, to the accusations of 
 her enemies. As soon as she was informed of the catas- 
 trophe, she ordered the body brought before her, and she 
 examined it, as it lay upon a bench, with more curiosity 
 than grief. It was afterwards embalmed, and that same 
 evening was laid, without display, beside that of Rizzio. 
 
 Scottish etiquette made it obligatory upon the widow 
 of a King of Scotland to pass the forty days next after 
 his demise in retirement, in an apartment from which 
 every particle of day-light was excluded. On the 
 twelfth day Mary caused her windows to be thrown 
 open, and on the fifteenth left Edinburgh with Bothwell 
 for Leyton, a country-house two leagues from the capi- 
 tal. Ducroe, the French ambassador, sought her out 
 there, and remonstrated with her to such effect that he 
 induced her to return to Edinburgh : but, instead of the 
 acclamations which usually greeted her coming she was 
 welcomed with absolute freezing silence, except that one 
 woman in the crowd cried : 
 
 " God treats her as she deserves ! " 
 
 The names of the murderers were no secret to the 
 people. Bothwell carried a magnificent coat, which was
 
 62 MARY STUART. 
 
 too large for him, to a tailor, and ordered him to make 
 it over to fit him : the tailor recognized it as having 
 formerly belonged to the King : 
 
 " It's quite right," he said, " it is customary for the 
 executioner to inherit the property of his victim." 
 
 Meanwhile the Earl of Lennox, supported by popular 
 opinion, loudly demanded justice for his son's death, and 
 came forward himself as accuser of his murderers. The 
 Queen, therefore, was compelled, in order to appease the 
 paternal excitement and the public indignation, to com- 
 mand the Earl of Argyle, lord provost of the kingdom, 
 to investigate the occurrence. On the same day on 
 which this order was given, a proclamation was posted 
 on the streets of Edinburgh, offering in the Queen's 
 name a reward of two thousand pounds sterling to any 
 person who should give information concerning the 
 murderers of the King. On the following day the 
 following placard was found beside the other, wherever 
 it was posted : 
 
 Whereas it has been publicly announced that those 
 who should disclose the King's assassins should receive 
 two thousand pounds sterling, I, who have made careful 
 investigation, do declare that the authors of the crime 
 are the Earl of Bothwell, James Balfour, David, Cham- 
 bers, Blacmester, John Spens and the Queen herself. 
 
 This placard was speedily torn down, but as always 
 happens in such cases, it had already been read by nine- 
 tenths of the population. 
 
 The Earl of Lennox accused Bothwell, and public 
 opinion seconded him with such energy, that Mary was 
 constrained to allow him to be brought to trial : but all 
 measures were taken to make it impossible for the 
 accuser to secure his conviction. On the 28th of March 
 the Earl of Lennox was advised that the trial was set
 
 MARY STUART. 63 
 
 down for April 12th ; thus only two short weeks were 
 allowed him in which to collect his proofs against the 
 most powerful man in Scotland. Lennox, therefore, 
 judged that the trial would be nothing more than a 
 mockery, and failed to appear. Bothwell, on the other 
 hand, was accompanied to the place appointed for the 
 trial by five thousand of his partisans, and two hundred 
 chosen fusileers, who stood guard at the doors as soon as 
 he had entered. As will be seen his attitude was more 
 nearly that of a King preparing to disregard the laws, 
 than of an accused person, prepared to submit to their 
 execution. The anticipated result followed, and the jury 
 acquitted Bothwell of the charge of which everybody, 
 including his judges, knew him to be guilty. 
 
 On the day of the trial, Bothwell caused the challenge 
 to be publicly posted. 
 
 "Although I am sufficiently exonerated from com- 
 plicity in the murder of the King, of which I have been 
 falsely accused, nevertheless, the better to maintain my 
 innocence, I am ready to do battle against any person 
 who dares assert that I killed the King." 
 
 This reply was not slow to make its appearance beside 
 the other : 
 
 "I accept the challenge, provided that you select 
 neutral ground." 
 
 Following immediately upon Bothwell's acquittal 
 came reports that the Queen proposed to marry him. 
 Strange and mad as such a marriage would seem to be, 
 the relations between the two were so well known that 
 no one doubted the truth of the report. But fear or 
 ambition had brought every one under subjection to 
 Bothwell, and only two men dared to lift their voices 
 against the unholy union. They were Lord Herries and 
 James Melville.
 
 64 MARY STUART. 
 
 Mary was at Stirling when Lord Herries, profiting by 
 Bothwell's temporary absence, threw himself at her feet 
 and implored her not to cast honor to the winds by 
 marrying her husband's murderer : for such a course 
 would inevitably convince those who still doubted, that 
 she was his accomplice. But the Queen, instead of 
 expressing gratitude to Herries for his devotion, seemed 
 much amazed at his audacity, and contemptuously 
 motioned to him to rise, saying coldly that her heart 
 had nothing to say to her in behalf of the Earl of 
 Bothwell, and that if she ever married again, which was 
 not probable, she would forget neither what she owed 
 to her people, nor what she owed to herself. 
 
 Melville did not allow Herries' ill success to discourage 
 him. He pretended to have received a letter from one 
 of his friends in England, one Thomas Bishop, and 
 showed the letter to the Queen. But Mary recognized 
 the style of her ambassador, as well as his devoted 
 friendship in the first line; she handed the letter to 
 Maitland, of Lethington, who was present, and said : 
 
 " Here's a very strange letter. Pray read it. It's a 
 little subterfuge of Melville's." 
 
 Lethington ran his eyes over the letter, but before he 
 had read half of it, he seized Melville's hand, and led 
 him to a window. 
 
 "My dear Melville," he said, "you were certainly 
 mad just now when you handed this letter to the Queen, 
 for as soon as Bothwell hears of it, and it won't be long, 
 he will make an end of you. You have acted the part 
 of an honorable man, it is true ; but at court it is better 
 to act the part of a clever politician. I strongly advise 
 you to leave the court at the earliest possible moment." 
 
 Melville did not wait for him to repeat his advice, but 
 kept out of sight for a week. Lethington's prophecy
 
 MARY STUART. 65 
 
 was fulfilled ; as soon as Bothwell returned to the Queen, 
 he knew all that had taken place. He raved furiously 
 against Melville, and sought for him high and low, but 
 was unable to find him. 
 
 These symptoms of opposition, feeble as they were, 
 caused Bothwell considerable uneasiness ; and as he was 
 sure of Mary's love he determined to hurry matters 
 along. Consequently, as the Queen was returning from 
 Stirling to Edinburgh, a few days after the scenes we 
 have described, Bothwell suddenly appeared with a 
 thousand horsemen, at the Bridge of Cramond. He 
 ordered his men to disarm Huntly, Lethington and 
 Melville, who had resumed his attendance upon his 
 sovereign, and seized the Queen's rein. With a great 
 show of violence he compelled Mary to retrace her steps 
 and accompany him to Dunbar, which she did without 
 the least resistance ; a very extraordinary circumstance 
 on the part of a person of Mary's character. 
 
 On the following day the Earls of Huntly and 
 Lethington, Sir James Melville and their retainers were 
 set at liberty; and ten days later, Bothwell and the 
 Queen returned to Edinburgh together, apparently on 
 the best possible terms. 
 
 On the second day after their return Bothwell gave a 
 grand dinner party at a tavern to his adherents among 
 the nobility. After the feast, on the very table at which 
 they had eaten, and amid the half-emptied glasses and 
 overturned bottles, Lindsay, Ruthven, Morton, Maitland, 
 and some twelve or fifteen others signed a paper, in 
 which they not only declared on their souls and con- 
 sciences that Bothwell was innocent, but recommended 
 him to the Queen as a fitting person for her to take to 
 husband. This document closed with this extraordinary 
 sentence : 
 
 Vol. FV.-5.
 
 66 MARY STUART. 
 
 "After all, the Queen cannot do otherwise, as the 
 Earl has abducted her, and lain with her." 
 
 However, there were still two obstacles to the mar- 
 riage: in the first place, Bothwell had already been 
 married three times, and all three of his wives were 
 living : in the second place, as he had abducted the 
 Queen, that fact might be considered to annul any 
 alliance which she might enter into with him. The first 
 of these obstacles was first dealt with, as being the most 
 difficult to overcome. 
 
 Bothwell's first two wives were of humble origin, and 
 so they disdained to worry themselves about them. But 
 it was not so with the third who was the daughter of 
 that Earl of Huntly who was trampled under his horse's 
 feet, and sister of Gordon, who was beheaded. Fortun- 
 ately for Bothwell his past misconduct made his wife as 
 eager for a divorce as he was himself, and it was an easy 
 matter to induce her to bring forward charges of infidel- 
 ity against her husband. Bothwell admitted that he had 
 been criminally intimate with a relative of his wife, and 
 the Archbishop of St. Andrews, the same who had taken 
 up his quarters at the deserted mansion at Kirk-of-Field, 
 in order to be on hand at Darnley's death, pronounced 
 the decree of dissolution. The suit was entered, tried 
 and decided within ten days. 
 
 As to the second obstacle, concerning the force put 
 upon the Queen, Mary undertook to remove that her- 
 self. She went before the tribunal and declared that 
 she not only forgave Bothwell for his conduct toward 
 her, but that she proposed to heap fresh honors upon 
 him as a loyal and trusty subject. 
 
 In pursuance of her declared purpose, she made him 
 Duke of Orkney a few days later: and on the 15th of 
 the same month, barely four months after Darnley's
 
 MARY STUART. 67 
 
 demise with a levity that bordered on madness, Mary, 
 who had solicited a dispensation to marry a Catholic 
 prince, who was her cousin in the third degree, gave 
 her hand to Bothwell, an upstart Protestant, who, not- 
 withstanding his divorce, was still a bigamist, and now 
 had four wives, including the Queen. 
 
 The wedding was a gloomy aflair, as befitted a cere- 
 mony performed under such sanguinary auspices. Mor- 
 ton, Maitland and some fawning parasites of Bothwell 
 were the only guests. The French ambassador, although 
 he was a creature of the Guise family, to which Mary 
 belonged, refused to attend. 
 
 Mary's illusion was short-lived : she was no sooner in 
 Bothwell's power, than she realized what sort of a master 
 she had taken unto herself. Vulgar, brutal and ill- 
 tempered, he seemed to have been selected by Providence 
 to avenge the errors which he had instigated, or helped 
 to commit. His treatment of her soon became so out- 
 rageous that Mary, driven beyond endurance, one day 
 snatched a dagger from Erskine, who was present with 
 Melville at one of their scenes, and tried to stab herself, 
 crying that she preferred to die rather than to live in 
 such misery. And yet, incomprehensible as it may 
 appear, in spite of his incessant and disgusting brutality, 
 Mary always was the first to seek a reconciliation with a 
 child's submissive affection, forgetting that she was a 
 woman and a queen. 
 
 However, these attractions in public gave the nobles 
 the pretext which they wanted to rise in revolt. 
 
 The Earl of Mar, governor of Mary's infant son, 
 Argyle, Athol, Glencairn, Lindsay, Boyd, and even 
 Morton and Maitland themselves, Bothwell's never-fail- 
 ing confederates, took up arms, for the avowed purpose 
 of avenging the death of the King, and rescuing his son
 
 68 MARY STUART. 
 
 from the hands of the man who had killed the father, 
 and was keeping the mother in captivity. As for Mur- 
 ray, he had kept completely out of sight during all these 
 last events, being in Fifeshire when the King was mur- 
 dered : three days before BothweLL's trial, he asked and 
 obtained his sister's permission to travel on the continent. 
 
 The uprising took place so suddenly, that the confed- 
 erated lords, whose plan was to possess themselves of the 
 persons of Mary and Bothwell by surprise, expected to 
 succeed at the first attempt, They were being enter- 
 tained by Lord Borthwick, and were at table, when they 
 were informed that the castle was surrounded by a con- 
 siderable force of armed men. The King and Queen 
 suspected that they were the cause of this demonstration, 
 and as they had no means of resistance, Bothwell donned 
 the costume of a groom, and Mary that of a page ; in 
 this guise they rode out of one gate, as the confederates 
 were entering at another. 
 
 The fugitives withdrew to Dunbar, where they assem- 
 bled all Bothwell's friends and made them sign a sort 
 of confederation whereby they agreed to defend the 
 Queen and her husband. About this time Murray 
 arrived from France, and Bothwell presented the act of 
 association to him as well. But Murray refused to affix 
 his signature : he maintained that it was insulting to 
 him to suggest that he needed to bind himself in writing 
 to defend his sister and his Queen. His refusal led to 
 an altercation between him and Bothwell, and Murray, 
 faithful to his system of neutrality, retired to his estates, 
 and left the affairs of the realm to follow without him 
 the disastrous course upon which they had entered. 
 
 Meanwhile the confederates, having missed their aim 
 at Borthwick, did not feel strong enough to attack Both- 
 well at Dunbar, but marched upon Edinburgh, where
 
 MARY STUART. 69 
 
 they were in correspondence with a man in whom Both- 
 well placed implicit confidence. This man was James 
 Balfour, governor of the castle, the same who superin- 
 tended the preparation of the mine by which Darnley 
 was blown up, and whom Bothwell met as he entered 
 the garden at Kirk-of-Field. Balfour turned over 
 Edinburgh Castle to the confederates, and also placed 
 in their hands a little silver casket, with a cipher con- 
 sisting of an F surmounted by a crown, which indicated 
 that it had belonged to Fra^ois II. It was, in fact, a 
 gift to the Queen from her first husband, which she had 
 passed on to Bothwell. 
 
 Balfour asserted that the casket contained valuable 
 papers which, under existing circumstances, might be of 
 the very greatest service to Mary's enemies. The con- 
 federated lords opened it, and found therein the three 
 letters, forged or genuine, which we have cited, the 
 marriage contract between Mary and Bothwell, and 
 twelve pieces of poetry in the Queen's handwriting. As 
 Balfour said, it was a lucky find for Mary's enemies : 
 indeed it was worth much more than a victory, which 
 would simply put the Queen's life in their hands, while 
 Bal four's treachery betrayed her honor to them. 
 
 Bothwell, in the meantime, had been levying troops, 
 and believed that he was strong enough to take the field. 
 Consequently he put his army in motion, without await- 
 ing the Hamiltons, who were assembling their vassals, 
 and on the 15th of June, 1567, the opposing forces came 
 face to face. Mary, who was determined to try to avoid 
 bloodshed, sent the French ambassador to the confeder- 
 ates to urge them to lay down their arms. But they 
 replied that the Queen was in error in taking them for 
 rebels: that they were in arms against Bothwell, not 
 against her. Thereupon the King's friends did what
 
 70 MARY STUART. 
 
 they could to put an end to the negotiations and begin 
 the battle ; but it was too late. The soldiers had found 
 out that they were defending the cause of a single man 
 and that they were expected to fight to gratify a 
 woman's whim, and not for their country's good ; so they 
 exclaimed that, since Bothwell alone was aimed at, 
 Bothwell might defend his own cause. And he, as con- 
 ceited and blustering as ever, caused proclamation to be 
 made that he stood ready to prove his innocence, sword 
 in hand, against any person who should dare to main- 
 tain that he was guilty. 
 
 On the instant every man of noble birth in the opposite 
 camp accepted the challenge ; eventually all others gave 
 way to those who were reputed the most valorous, and 
 Kirkaldy of Grange, Murray of Tullibardine, and Lord 
 Lindsay of the Byres, defied him one after another. 
 But whether his courage failed him, or whether when 
 the crucial moment came he found that he did not him- 
 self believe in the justice of his cause, he resorted to 
 such extraordinary pretexts to evade the combat, that 
 even the Queen was ashamed, and his most devoted 
 friends began to murmur. 
 
 Thereupon Mary, in view of the alarming disposition 
 which was manifest among their own forces, determined 
 not to risk a battle. She sent a herald to Kirkaldy of 
 Grange, who commanded an advanced post. As he 
 came forward without suspicion to talk with the Queen, 
 Bothwell, enraged at his own cowardice, ordered a 
 soldier to fire upon him. But Mary, herself, interposed, 
 forbidding any violence to be done him, under pain of 
 instant death to the offender. At the same time, the report 
 of Bothwell's rash order was spread broadcast through 
 the army, and the mutterings thereat were so threatening 
 that it was clear to him that his cause was lost forever.
 
 MARY STUART. 71 
 
 Such was evidently the Queen's opinion as well, for the 
 outcome of her conference with Kirkaldy was an agree- 
 ment on her part to abandon Both well, and join the 
 camp of the confederates, on condition that they should 
 ground their arms before her, and escort her back to 
 Edinburgh in Queenly guise. Kirkaldy returned to the 
 nobles with her conditions, and promised to return the 
 next morning with a satisfactory reply. 
 
 But, when the parting with Bothwell was at hand, 
 Mary was seized anew with that fatal passion for him 
 which she never could master ; she was so overcome by 
 grief, that she wept bitter tears, and publicly declared 
 her purpose to send word to Kirkaldy that all negotia- 
 tions were broken off. But Bothwell realized that his 
 life was no longer safe in the camp, so he himself was 
 the one to insist that matters should be left as they were. 
 Leaving Kary in tears, he mounted his horse and rode 
 off at full speed, nor did he draw rein until he reached 
 Dunbar. 
 
 On the following morning, at the appointed hour, the 
 the arrival of Kirkaldy of Grange was announced by 
 the trumpets of the heralds. Mary at once mounted 
 and rode out to meet him ; as he dismounted to salute 
 her, she said : 
 
 " My Lord, I place myself in your hands, on the 
 conditions which you made known to me on the part of 
 my nobles, and here is my hand in token of my entire 
 confidence." 
 
 Kirkaldy put his knee to the ground, and respectfully 
 kissed the Queen's hand ; then rose and, taking her 
 horse by the bridle, led him toward the camp of the 
 confederates. 
 
 All the nobility and gentry in the army received her 
 with the utmost respect and left nothing for her to desire
 
 72 MARY STUART. 
 
 in that regard ; but it was not so with the soldiers and 
 common people. As soon as she reached the second line, 
 which was made up of them, there was much ominous 
 muttering, and several voices cried aloud : 
 
 " To the stake with the adulteress ! to the stake with 
 the parricide ! " 
 
 Mary endured these insults with stoical courage ; but 
 a far worse trial was in store for her. Suddenly she saw 
 before her eyes a banner, on one side of which the King 
 was represented lying dead in the fatal garden, and on 
 the other the young prince on his knees, with clasped 
 hands and uplifted eyes, with the device : " Judge and 
 avenge my cause, O Lord ! " 
 
 Mary drew in her horse at this sight, and started to 
 turn back ; but she had only taken a few steps when 
 the accusing banner barred her passage again. Where- 
 ever she went, she encountered that ghastly apparition. 
 For two mortal hours she had before her eyes, turn 
 them as she might, the King's body crying for ven- 
 geance, and the young prince, his son, praying God to 
 punish the assassins. 
 
 At last, she could bear the fatal sight no longer; 
 she cried aloud, and fell back upon her saddle, uncon- 
 scious, and would have fallen to the ground had not 
 those who were near supported her. 
 
 In the evening she entered Edinburgh, still preceded 
 by the cruel banner. Already she seemed much more 
 like a prisoner than a queen, for she had not had an 
 instant during the day to give to her toilet, and her hair 
 was flying in every direction, her face was pale and bore 
 the marks of tears, and her clothes were covered with 
 dust and mud. As she rode farther and farther into the 
 city, the hooting and cursing of the crowd became more 
 and more noticeable. At last, half dead with fatigue,
 
 MARY BTUART. 73 
 
 and bowed down with grief and shame, she reached the 
 lord-provost's mansion. There the whole population of 
 Edinburgh crowded into the square, with cries which 
 from time to time assumed a terrifying and ominous 
 tone. Again and again Mary essayed to approach the 
 window, hoping that the mere sight of her, which she 
 had so often found to be irresistible, would disarm the 
 howling multitude. But each time her eyes fell upon 
 that ghastly banner, waving between her and the people 
 like a blood-stained curtain, a terrible interpreter of the 
 feelings of the multitude. 
 
 And yet this ebullient hatred was directed against 
 Bothwell rather than against the Queen ; in Darnley's 
 widow they were hunting Bothwell. The curses were 
 aimed at Bothwell ; Bothwell was the adulterer, Both- 
 well was the murderer and the coward, while Mary was 
 the weak, infatuated woman, who gave fresh proof of 
 her infatuation that same night. 
 
 As soon as the darkness had caused the crowd to 
 disperse, and quiet was in some degree restored, Mary's 
 thoughts, being no longer engrossed by her own danger, 
 at once recurred to Bothwell whom she had been com- 
 pelled to abandon, and who was at that moment an 
 outlaw and a fugitive, whereas she, as she supposed, was 
 about to resume the title and authority of Queen. 
 With a woman's never-failing confidence in the power 
 of her own love, by which she always measures the love 
 of another, she believed that Bothwell's chief regret was 
 not the loss of wealth and power, but of herself. She 
 therefore wrote him a long letter, wherein, forgetting 
 herself entirely, she promised, with protestations of the 
 most devoted affection, that she would never abandon 
 him, but would summon him to her side as soon as the 
 confederate lords should separate, and make it possible
 
 74 MARY STUART. 
 
 for her to do so. When the letter was finished, she 
 called a soldier, gave him a purse filled with gold, and 
 commanded him to carry the letter to Dunbar, where 
 Bothwell should be, and if he was no longer there, to 
 follow him until he overtook him. 
 
 Then she went to bed, and slept soundly, for, bitterly 
 unhappy though she was, she believed that she had ap- 
 plied a soothing balm to greater unhappiness than her 
 own. 
 
 The next morning the Queen was awakened by the 
 tread of an armed man in her room. She was astonished 
 and alarmed in equal measure at this disregard of eti- 
 quette, which boded no good. She set up in bed, and, 
 putting aside the curtains, saw Lord Lindsay, of the 
 Byres, standing before her. He was, as she knew, one 
 of the oldest and most inveterate of her enemies, so 
 that it was in a voice which she tried in vain to render 
 firm that she asked him what he wanted with her at such 
 an hour. 
 
 "Do you know this writing, Madame?" Lindsay 
 demanded in a harsh voice, as he handed the Queen the 
 letter she had written to Bothwell during the night, 
 which the soldier had handed to the confederated lords, 
 instead of delivering it to the person to whom it was 
 addressed. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord," the Queen replied, " but am I a 
 prisoner, pray, that my correspondence is intercepted ? 
 or is it no longer permissible for a wife to write to her 
 husband?" 
 
 " When the husband is a traitor, Madame," Lindsay 
 replied, " it is not permissible for a wife to write to her 
 husband, unless the wife be involved in his treason: 
 which seems to me abundantly proven, however, by your 
 promise to recall the villain."
 
 MARY STUART. 75 
 
 " My Lord," cried Mary, " you forget that you are 
 speaking to your Queen." 
 
 "There was a time, Madame," Lindsay retorted, 
 " when I would have addressed you in softer tones, and 
 with my knee on the ground, although it consorts but ill 
 with our old Scotch character to take pattern by your 
 French courtiers. But for some time past, thanks to 
 your fickle amours, you have kept us so much in the 
 field with our harness on our backs, that our voices have 
 grown hoarse in the cold night air, and our stiffened 
 knees refuse to bend in their armor. You must take 
 me as I am therefore, Madame, now that you are no 
 longer free to select your own favorites." 
 
 Mary turned deathly pale at this failure of respect, to 
 which she was not as yet accustomed, but she restrained 
 her wrath as well as she could. 
 
 " And yet, my Lord," she said, " however well dis- 
 posed I may be to take you as you are, I must at least 
 know in what capacity you thus intrude upon me. The 
 letter which you hold in your hand would seem to 
 indicate that you come as a spy, were it not that the 
 readiness with which you enter my chamber without 
 announcement leads me to think that I am to look upon 
 you as a gaoler. Pray have the kindness to tell me by 
 which of those two names I shall call you." 
 
 " By neither, Madame, for I am nothing more nor 
 less than your traveling companion, the commander of 
 the detachment which is to escort you to Lochleven 
 Castle, your future residence. But I shall be obliged to 
 leave you there as soon as we arrive, in order to return 
 hither and assist the confederate lords to choose a Regent 
 for the kingdom." 
 
 " And so it was as a prisoner and not as Queen, that I 
 placed myself in the hands of Kirkaldy. If I remember
 
 76 MARY STUART. 
 
 aright, such was not our agreement, but I am glad to 
 learn how much time the nobles of Scotland need to 
 prove false to their sworn engagements." 
 
 "Your Grace forgets that these engagements were 
 entered in upon a certain condition." 
 
 " Upon what condition, pray ? " 
 
 " That you should part forever from the murderer of 
 your husband : and here is the proof," he added, pointing 
 to the letter, " that you forgot your promise before we 
 ever thought of recalling ours." 
 
 " For what hour is my departure fixed ? " said Mary, 
 beginning to weary of the discussion. 
 
 " Eleven o'clock, Madame." 
 
 " 'Tis well, my Lord : as I do not wish to make your 
 Lordship wait, you will have the goodness, as you retire, 
 to send some one to help me dress, unless I am reduced 
 to the necessity of being my own attendant." 
 
 Mary accompanied these words with so imperious a 
 wave of her hand, that Lindsay bowed and went out 
 without speaking, however anxious he may have been to 
 retort. A moment later Mary Beaton entered the room. 
 
 The Queen was ready at the appointed time : she had 
 suffered so bitterly at Edinburgh that she left it without 
 the least regret. A litter had been prepared for her, it 
 may have been to spare her a repetition of the humiliation 
 of the preceding day, or to conceal her departure from 
 those who might still be considered her partisans. Mary 
 entered the litter without a word of remonstrance, and 
 after a journey of two hours arrived at Duddingston. A 
 small boat was waiting there, and set sail as soon as she 
 was on board ; the next morning, at daybreak, she landed 
 on the other side of the Forth, in the County of Fife. 
 
 A halt was made at Rosythe Castle, just long enough 
 to take breakfast, after which the little party at once
 
 MARY STUART. 77 
 
 took the road again, for Lord Lindsay announced that 
 he was anxious to reach his destination that evening. 
 Just as the sun was sinking Mary espied the lofty towers 
 of Lochleven Castle, gilded by its dying rays. 
 
 The castle is built upon a small island in the centre 
 of the lake of the same name. The royal prisoner was 
 undoubtedly expected, for as soon as the escort reached 
 the shore of the lake Lord Lindsay's squire unfolded his 
 banner, which had thus far remained in its case, and 
 waved it from right to left, while his master blew a blast 
 upon a little hunting-horn which he wore at his side. 
 Immediately a boat put off from the island, and came 
 toward the party, impelled by four sturdy rowers, who 
 soon traversed the space which lay between. Mary 
 stepped aboard without speaking, and seated herself at 
 the stern, while Lord Lindsay and his squire stood before 
 her. As her guardian seemed no more inclined to speak 
 than she to reply, she had abundant leisure to examine 
 her future abode. 
 
 The castle, more properly speaking the fortress, of 
 Lochleven, was sombre and gloomy enough under the 
 most favorable circumstances, from its position and the 
 character of its architecture; but the hour at which 
 Mary's eyes first fell upon it made its general effect even 
 more depressing. So far as one could judge through the 
 mists which rose from the lake, it was one of those mass- 
 ive structures of the twelfth century, which are so tightly 
 closed to light and air that they seem like the stone- 
 armor of giants. As she drew near, Mary could distin- 
 guish the outlines of two great round towers which stood 
 at opposite corners and imparted to the building the 
 forbidding aspect of a State prison. A clump of ancient 
 trees, which grew against the northern front, shut in by 
 a high wall, or rampart, and seemed to be growing out
 
 78 MARY 8TUABT. 
 
 of the bare rock, completed the picture. On the other 
 hand, if she looked away from the castle to the west or 
 north, the view, ranging from isle to isle, stretched away 
 over the vast plain of Kinross, while toward the south 
 it was bounded by the serrated peaks of Ben Lomond, 
 whose foot-hills sloped down to the shore of the lake. 
 
 Three persons were awaiting Mary at the gateway of 
 the castle, Lady Douglas, William Douglas, her son, 
 and a child of twelve, who was called Little Douglas, 
 a distant relative of the family at the castle. As may 
 be imagined, the greetings between Mary and her hosts 
 were very brief ; the Queen was shown to her apartment, 
 which was on the first floor with windows looking upon 
 the lake, and was soon left alone with Mary Seyton, the 
 only one of the four Marys who was permitted to 
 accompany her. 
 
 Brief as was the interview, and few and guarded as 
 were the words which passed between the prisoner and 
 her gaolers, Mary had had time, taking what she saw in 
 connection with what she already knew, to form a reas- 
 onably exact conception of the new actors who were to 
 play parts in the drama of her life. 
 
 Lady Lochleven, wife of Lord William Douglas, 
 concerning whom we said a few words in the early part 
 of this history, was a woman of some fifty-five to sixty 
 years, who had been beautiful enough in her youth to 
 attract the favorable notice of James V., and had by 
 him a son, the same Murray who has already been so 
 prominent a figure in Mary's life, and whom she always 
 treated as a brother, despite his bar sinister. For a 
 moment Lady Lochleven cherished the hope of becoming 
 the King's wife, his passion for her seemed to have sunk 
 so deep in his heart ; and it was quite possible that her 
 hope might be fulfilled, for the family of Mar, to which
 
 a
 
 MARY STUART. 79 
 
 she belonged, was the peer of the oldest and noblest 
 families in Scotland. But unfortunately for her, certain 
 rumors which were current among the young noblemen 
 of the day came to James' ears. It was said that the 
 beautiful favorite divided her favors between her royal 
 lover and another whom she had taken from the lowest 
 order of the common people, undoubtedly from curiosity 
 to see what they were like. It was said, furthermore, 
 that this Porterfield was really the father of the child, 
 who had already received the name of James Stuart, 
 and whom the King was bringing up as his son at the 
 Monastery of St. Andrews. These rumors, whether they 
 were true or false, whether they were set afloat as harm- 
 less gossip or with malicious intent, checked James V., 
 just as he was on the point of manifesting his regard 
 for her who had presented him with a son, by raising 
 her to the rank of queen. Instead of marrying her 
 himself, he requested her to select a husband among the 
 nobles of his court ; and, as she was exceedingly lovely 
 and the King's favor was understood to accompany the 
 marriage, Lord William Douglas of Lochleven, upon 
 whom her choice fell, made no resistance whatever. 
 
 However, in spite of the direct protection which 
 James V. extended to her so long as he lived, Lady 
 Douglas was never able to forget that she had had her 
 finger upon a much loftier station. She therefore con- 
 ceived a bitter hatred for the woman who, in her eyes, 
 had usurped her place, and poor Mary naturally inherited 
 Lady Douglas' intense animosity toward her mother, 
 which came to the surface in the few words the two 
 women exchanged when they met. As she grew older, 
 Lady Douglas, either because she really regretted her 
 past errors, or from policy, had become a prude and a 
 puritan ; so that, at the time of which we are writing,
 
 80 MARY BTUART. 
 
 the natural acrimoniousness of her temperament was 
 intensified by the rigid principles of the religion she 
 had adopted. 
 
 William Douglas, the eldest son of the Lord of 
 Lochleven, and half-brother of Murray through his 
 mother, was a man of thirty-five or six, endowed with 
 great physical strength, with harsh, strongly marked 
 features, and red hair and beard, like all of the younger 
 branch. He had fallen heir to the deadly hatred which 
 the Douglases had cherished against the Stuarts for a 
 century past, and which had borne fruit in innumerable 
 conspiracies, rebellions and murders. According as 
 fortune smiled or frowned upon Murray, the rays of the 
 fraternal constellation shone or ceased to shine upon 
 William Douglas. He had come to feel, therefore, that 
 his own life was dependent upon the life of another, and 
 had devoted himself, body and soul, to the interests of 
 that other, with whose fortunes his own fortune rose and 
 fell. 
 
 The fall of Mary, which must inevitably result in the 
 elevation of Murray, was therefore matter for self-con- 
 gratulation to him, and the confederates could have 
 made no better choice than to entrust the care of their 
 prisoner to the instinctive ill-will of Lady Douglas and 
 the shrewd hatred of her son. 
 
 Little Douglas was, as we have said, a child of 
 twelve, left an orphan some months before, whom the 
 Lochlevens had taken into their family, where they 
 made him pay dear for the bread they gave him by the 
 harshest of harsh treatment. The result was that the 
 child, who had the Douglas pride and capacity for 
 hatred, and knew that his birth was equal to that of his 
 haughty relatives, although his fortune was inferior to 
 theirs the result was, that the gratitude which he felt in
 
 MARY STUART. 81 
 
 the first instance had changed to a lasting and intense 
 hatred. It used to be said that among the Douglases 
 there was a certain age for love, but none for hate. The 
 child felt his weakness and isolation, and locked up his 
 thoughts in his own bosom with a force of character far 
 beyond his years. Humble and submissive in his de- 
 meanor, he was biding his time until he should become a 
 young man, and could take his leave of Lochleven, and 
 perhaps be revenged for the supercilious patronage of 
 those who dwelt there. The sentiments we have de- 
 scribed did not, however, extend to all the members of 
 the family, and the child's hatred for William Douglas, 
 was no deeper rooted in his heart than his love for 
 George, the second of Lady Lochleven's sons, whom we 
 have not mentioned hitherto, because he was absent 
 from the castle when the Queen arrived, so that we have 
 had as yet no opportunity to present him to our readers. 
 George was at this time about twenty-five years old. 
 By a singular chance, which his mother's youth led 
 Lord William Douglas to interpret unfavorably to his 
 own honor, this second son possessed none of the dis- 
 tinctive Douglas features, which were full red cheeks, 
 large ears, and red hair. So that poor George, who had 
 received from nature pale cheeks, deep blue eyes and 
 black hair, was an object of utter indifference to his 
 father and of his elder brother's hatred, from his first 
 appearance in the world. As far as his mother was 
 concerned George had never been, in appearance at 
 least, honored with any very deep maternal affection, 
 whether because she in good faith shared her husband's 
 surprise at the striking variation of feature, or because 
 she knew the explanation of it, and reproached herself 
 in secret. It followed that the young man, who was 
 from his childhood made the plaything of an inexplicable 
 Vol. rv.-.
 
 82 MARY STUAKT. 
 
 fatality, had grown to manhood like a wild shrub full of 
 strength and vigor, but uncultivated and neglected. 
 Since his fifteenth year, they had become accustomed 
 to his unexplained absences, which were easily suscept- 
 ible of explanation in the indifference with which every 
 one regarded him. Only at rare intervals did he make 
 his appearance at the castle, like those migratory birds 
 which always return to the same spot, but rest there for 
 an instant only, before flying away again to some un- 
 known quarter of the globe. 
 
 The instinctive consciousness of fellowship in misfor- 
 tune drew George and Little Douglas together. When 
 George saw how the child was abused by the whole 
 household he conceived a strong friendship for him, and 
 when the little fellow felt the warm breath of love pene- 
 trate the atmosphere of indifference which surrounded 
 him, he turned to George with open arms and heart. 
 One day when the child had committed some trivial 
 fault, and William Douglas had his dog-whip in the air 
 to strike him, George, who was sitting deep in melan- 
 choly thought upon a stone, rushed at his brother, 
 snatched the whip from his hands and threw it far away. 
 William drew his sword at this insult, and George his, 
 and the two brothers, who had hated one another for 
 twenty years like the deadliest enemies, were on the 
 point of seeking each other's lives, when Little Douglas, 
 who had picked up the whip, knelt in front of William, 
 handed him the dishonoring weapon, and said : 
 
 " Strike me, cousin ; I deserve it." 
 
 The child's interposition gave the young men time to 
 reflect : they were terrified at the crime they were so 
 near committing, and silently returned their swords to 
 the scabbards ; then separated, each going his own way. 
 That episode lent new strength to the bond of friendship
 
 MARY STUART. 83 
 
 between George and the child, and on the tatter's part 
 it had grown to be downright worship. 
 
 We have dwelt upon all these details at wearisome 
 length, perhaps, but we feel sure that our readers will 
 forgive us when they see of how much importance they 
 are in the sequel. 
 
 Such was the family, less George, who, as we have 
 seen, was absent when the Queen arrived, with whom 
 Mary's lot was cast. In an instant she fell from the 
 very zenith of power to the condition of a captive, for 
 she had no doubt, from the day after her arrival, that 
 that was her standing as an inmate of Lochleven Castle. 
 That morning Lady Lochleven waited upon her, and 
 with embarrassment and spleen poorly disguised under a 
 pretence of respectful indifference, requested Mary to 
 go with her to inspect those portions of the fortress 
 which were set aside for her use. She led her through 
 three rooms, one of which was pointed out as her 
 sleeping apartment, another as a parlor, and the third 
 as a reception room; she then preceded the Queen 
 down a spiral staircase which led to the great hall of the 
 castle, and so across the hall into the garden. It was a 
 small square plot of ground, made into a flower-garden, 
 with an artificial fountain in the centre ; there were also 
 a few trees, the tops of which Mary saw above the high 
 wall, when she arrived. The garden was entered through 
 a low gateway, and there was a similar one in the oppo- 
 site wall, which opened upon the lake. Like all the 
 gates and doors of the castle, the keys of which never 
 left the belt or the pillow of William Douglas, it was 
 guarded night and day by a sentinel. It formed her 
 whole domain, who but yesterday had at her disposal 
 the palaces, plains and mountains of a whole realm. 
 
 When Mary returned to her apartments she found
 
 84 MARY STUART. 
 
 breakfast served and William Douglas standing by the 
 table : he was there to perform the duties of carver and 
 taster for the Queen. Notwithstanding their bitter 
 hatred for Mary, the Douglases would have looked 
 upon it as an ineffaceable stain upon their honor if any 
 mishap should befall the prisoner while she was an 
 inmate of their castle. In order that she might herself 
 feel no apprehension in that regard, William Douglas, 
 in the capacity of castellan, chose not only to carve the 
 Queen's food in her presence, but also to taste all the 
 dishes which were served at her table, as well as the 
 water and the different wines which were brought 
 to her. 
 
 This precaution caused Mary more regret than conso- 
 lation, for she realized that, if persisted in, it would 
 make all freedom of conversation at her table impossible 
 during her residence at the castle. The purpose of the 
 proceeding was too noble, however, for her to impute it 
 to her host as a crime, so she resigned herself to his 
 company, revolting as it was to her ; but from that day 
 she cut her meals so short that the most protracted 
 dinners while she was at Lochleven lasted barely quarter 
 of an hour. 
 
 Two days after her arrival, as Mary took her seat at 
 the breakfast table, she found a letter addressed to her 
 lying on her plate. She recognized Murray's hand- 
 writing, and her first feeling was one of unalloyed 
 delight, for her only hope now lay in this brother of 
 hers, to whom she had always been uniformly generous 
 and kind ; she had transformed him from simple Prior 
 of St. Andrews into an earl and had bestowed upon him 
 the magnificent domains which formed a part of the 
 ancient Earldom of Murray, but the most signal favor 
 of all was the pardon which she had granted or feigned
 
 MARY STUART. 85 
 
 to grant him for his share in the murder of Rizzio. 
 Great was her astonishment, therefore, when, upon open- 
 ing the letter, she found it filled with bitter reproaches 
 for her conduct, coupled with an exhortation to repent, 
 and an asseveration, several times repeated, that she 
 should never regain her liberty. He concluded his 
 letter with the announcement that, despite his distaste 
 for public life, he was forced into accepting the Regency, 
 less out of regard for his country than for his sister, as 
 it was the only means at his command of putting a stop 
 to the dishonoring prosecution which the nobles were 
 determined to bring against her, as the instigator of, or 
 at least the chief accessory to, the death of Darnley. 
 The necessary implication was that her imprisonment 
 was a piece of great good fortune for which she ought 
 to thank God as a vast improvement upon the fate 
 which would have been hers, if he had not interceded 
 for her. 
 
 This letter was a perfect thunderclap to Mary ; but, 
 as she was determined not to give her enemies an oppor- 
 tunity to exult in her discomfiture, she summoned all 
 her self-control, and said to William Douglas : 
 
 " This letter contains intelligence with which you are 
 doubtless familiar, for, although we are not children of 
 the same mother, the writer is related to us both in equal 
 degree, and would not have written to his sister without 
 writing at the same time to his brother ; and then, too, 
 like a good son, he must have been in haste to inform 
 his mother of the unexpected honors which have fallen 
 to his lot." 
 
 " Yes, Madame," William replied, " we learned yes- 
 terday that my brother has been appointed Regent of 
 Scotland, happily for the realm. As his respect for his 
 mother is only equalled by his devotion to his country,
 
 86 MARY STUART. 
 
 we make bold to hope that he will repair the wrongs 
 which favorites of all ranks and degrees have inflicted 
 upon both alike." 
 
 " It is the part of a dutiful son, no less than of a 
 courteous host," retorted Mary, " to go no farther back 
 in the history of Scotland, and not to make the daughter 
 blush for the faults of the father ; for I have heard it 
 said that the wrongs of which your lordship complains 
 are of earlier date than that which you name, and that 
 King James V. formerly had favorites of both sexes. 
 To be sure, it is said further that they of the sterner sex 
 showed as little gratitude for his friendship as the others 
 for his love. If you are ill-informed in this matter, 
 there is one who can enlighten you, in case he is still 
 living a certain Portefeld or Porterfield, I am not sure 
 which, as I find difficulty in remembering and pronounc- 
 ing the names of these common people ; but your noble 
 mother can furnish you with details concerning him." 
 
 Having launched that shaft, Mary rose, leaving 
 Douglas beside himself with rage, and withdrew to her 
 bedroom, bolting the door behind her. 
 
 She did not appear again during the day, but sat by 
 her window, whence she could at least enjoy the mag- 
 nificent prospect, which included the plain and village 
 of Kinross ; but the vast extent of country which lay 
 before her did but intensify the oppression at her heart 
 when her eyes wandered back from the horizon to the 
 foot of the castle, and the high walls surrounded on all 
 sides by the deep waters of the lake, upon whose broad 
 expanse naught could be seen save a single skiff from 
 which Little Douglas was fishing. 
 
 Mary had been for some moments gazing abstractedly 
 at the child who attracted her attention on the evening 
 of her arrival, when suddenly the blast of a horn rang
 
 MARY 8TUART. 87 
 
 out from the Kinross shore. On the instant Little 
 Douglas drew in his line and rowed away toward the 
 point whence the signal came, with a strength and skill 
 beyond his years. Mary followed him with her purpose- 
 less gaze as he pulled to a part of the shore so far away 
 that the boat dwindled to an almost imperceptible speck. 
 But soon it reappeared, increasing rapidly in size, until 
 she was able to distinguish that it bore a new passenger, 
 who was wielding the oars in such fashion that the 
 skiff fairly flew over the tranquil waters of the lake, 
 ploughing a furrow which sparkled in the rays of the 
 setting sun. Skimming along as swiftly as a bird, it 
 soon was so near that Mary could make out the skillful, 
 sturdy rower to be a young man of twenty-five, with 
 long, black hair, clad in a green velvet doublet, and 
 wearing a mountaineer's cap with an eagle's feather. 
 As he drew near, his back being turned to the castle, 
 Little Douglas leaned over to him and said a few words 
 which made him turn at once toward the Queen. She 
 drew back, instinctively, rather than from any definitely 
 formed fear of being seen, but not so quickly that she 
 did not catch a glimpse of the pale, handsome face of 
 the stranger. When she returned to the window he had 
 passed out of sight behind a corner of the castle. 
 
 The most trivial occurrence is sufficient to arouse the 
 curiosity of a prisoner; it seemed to Mary that the 
 young man's face was not altogether unknown to her, 
 but that she had seen him at some previous time. Search 
 her memory as she would, however, she could recall 
 nothing definite, and she finally concluded that she had 
 been deceived by some vague and indistinct resemblance 
 to some other person. 
 
 And yet, despite her reasoning, the idea had taken a 
 firm hold upon her mind ; she had constantly before
 
 88 MARY STUART. 
 
 her eyes the little boat skimming over the water toward 
 her window, with the child and the young man aboard, 
 as if they were coming to her assistance. Although 
 there was nothing positive in these prisoner's fancies, 
 she slept more soundly and peacefully that night than 
 she had done since she had been at Lochleven. 
 
 When she rose the next morning, she ran to her 
 window; the weather was glorious and everything 
 seemed to smile upon her, water, and sky, and land. 
 "Without undertaking to dissect the motive which 
 influenced her action, she declined to go down into the 
 garden before breakfast ; but when the door opened she 
 turned quickly around : William Douglas, attended as 
 usual, to perform the duties of taster. 
 
 The meal lasted but a short time, and was eaten in 
 perfect silence. As soon as Douglas withdrew, Mary 
 went down to the garden ; as she passed through the 
 courtyard she noticed two horses standing there all 
 saddled, indicating the approaching departure of a 
 gentleman and his groom. Was the black-haired young 
 man to take his leave again so soon ? Mary did not 
 dare, or did not choose to ask the question. She kept 
 on to the garden, and as she entered took in its whole 
 extent at a glance ; it was deserted. 
 
 She walked back and forth there for an instant, but 
 soon wearied of it, and returned to her room ; as she 
 passed through the court she noticed that the horses 
 were no longer there. She went at once to the window 
 to see if she could discover anything upon the lake 
 which might guide her conjectures, and spied a boat 
 moving away from the island ; on the boat were the two 
 horses and their riders, one of whom was William 
 Douglas, and the other a servant of the family. 
 
 Mary followed the boat with her eyes until it touched
 
 MARY STUART. 89 
 
 the shore, where the travelers disembarked, leading 
 their horses, and rode off at full speed, taking the same 
 road by which the Queen had come. As the horses 
 were completely covered with trappings, Mary assumed 
 that Douglas was on his way to Edinburgh. As soon 
 as it had landed its passengers on the opposite shore, the 
 boat returned to the castle. 
 
 At that moment Mary Seaton announced that Lady 
 Douglas asked leave to call upon the Queen. 
 
 It was the second time that the two women were to 
 stand face to face after long years of hatred on the part 
 of Lady Douglas, and of contemptuous indifference on 
 that of the Queen. With the instinctive coquetry which 
 leads women under any and all circumstances to wish to 
 appear beautiful, especially to other women, Mary 
 motioned with her hand to Mary Seaton, and stood 
 before a small mirror which hung on the wall in a heavy 
 Gothic frame, where she arranged her hair and adjusted 
 the lace about her neck. She then seated herself in her 
 most becoming attitude in the only armchair which the 
 parlor could boast, and said to Mary Seaton with a 
 smile that she might introduce Lady Douglas, who at 
 once entered the room. 
 
 Mary's expectation was not disappointed : for all her 
 loathing for James V.'s daughter, and despite the 
 self-control which she believed that she possessed, Lady 
 Douglas could not repress a gesture of amazement, 
 which bore abundant witness to the impression Mary's 
 marvelous beauty produced upon her. She had thought 
 to find her crushed by her misfortunes, pale from ennui, 
 and humbled by captivity, but she was the same calm, 
 beautiful, haughty creature as before. 
 
 Mary saw the effect she had produced, and said with 
 an ironical smile, partly to Mary Seaton, who was leaning
 
 90 MABY STUART. 
 
 on the back of her chair, and partly to her unexpected 
 visitor : 
 
 " We are indeed fortunate to-day, for we are to be 
 permitted, it would seem, to enjoy the society of our good 
 hostess, to whom we must express our acknowledgements 
 for having chosen to retain the empty ceremonial of 
 announcing her visit, which she might easily have dis- 
 pensed with, having the keys of our apartment." 
 
 " If my presence irks your Grace," replied Lady 
 Lochleven, " I regret it the more because circumstances 
 make it my bounden duty to inflict it upon you twice 
 each day, at least during the absence of my son, who 
 has been summoned to Edinburgh by the Regent. My 
 purpose in intruding upon you at this time was to inform 
 your Grace of his departure, not with the vain cere- 
 monial which obtains at court, but with the respect 
 which Lady Lochleven owes to every person who has 
 broken bread beneath her roof." 
 
 "Our good hostess has misprised our meaning," 
 rejoined Mary with affected affability, " and the Regent 
 himself will bear witness to the pleasure which we have 
 always taken in the companionship of those persons who 
 recall to our mind, even by indirection, our well-beloved 
 father, James V. Lady Douglas, therefore, does us wrong 
 by attributing to chagrin or discourtesy our surprise at her 
 unlooked-for appearance, and her hospitality, which she 
 BO courteously proffers, does not afford us sufficient dis- 
 traction to admit of our voluntarily renouncing that 
 which her visits cannot fail to afford us." 
 
 "Unhappily, Madame," retorted Lady Lochleven, 
 whom Mary kept standing in front of her during this 
 colloquy, " great as is the pleasure which I myself derive 
 from these visits, I shall be compelled to forego them 
 except at the hours I have mentioned. I am too old now
 
 MARY STUART. 91 
 
 to endure fatigue, and have always been too proud to 
 submit to sarcasm." 
 
 " I' faith, Seaton," exclaimed Mary, as if struck by a 
 sudden thought, "we had quite forgotten that Lady 
 Lochleven, having acquired the right to sit in the 
 presence of her sovereign at the court of the King, my 
 father, ought surely to enjoy the same right in the prison 
 of the Queen, his daughter. Bring a stool, Seaton, that 
 we be not so soon deprived, through failure of memory 
 on our part, of the society of our amiable hostess. Or," 
 she continued, rising and indicating her own chair to 
 Lady Lochleven, who was preparing to withdraw, " if a 
 stool beseems you not, my Lady, take this armchair; 
 you will not be the first of your family to sit in my 
 place." 
 
 To this last allusion to the usurpation of Murray, 
 Lady Lochleven was doubtless upon the point of making 
 some bitter retort, when the young man with black 
 hair appeared in the doorway unannounced, and 
 approached Lady Lochleven without saluting Mary. 
 
 " Madame," he said, bowing, " the boat which set my 
 brother ashore has returned, and one of the men who 
 accompanied him is entrusted with an urgent message 
 for you which William forgot to communicate himself." 
 
 With that he saluted the old lady respectfully once 
 more, and at once left the room, without so much as 
 looking toward the Queen, who was deeply wounded by 
 his impertinence ; she turned to Mary Seaton, and said 
 with her usual calmness of manner : 
 
 " What did we hear, Seaton, of certain rumors derog- 
 atory to the fair fame of our worthy hostess apropos of 
 a youth with pale cheeks and raven hair ? If this youth, 
 as I have every reason to believe, has grown to be the 
 young man who left us but now, I am ready to assure all
 
 92 MARY STUART. 
 
 doubting souls that he is a downright Douglas, not in 
 the matter of courage, concerning which we have no 
 means of judging, but in the matter of insolence, of 
 which he has just given us abundant proof. Let us 
 withdraw, little one," continued the Queen, leaning 
 upon Mary Seaton's arm, "for our good hostess may 
 feel called upon, for courtesy's sake, to bear us company 
 longer, whereas we know that she is impatiently awaited 
 elsewhere." 
 
 With these words, Mary retired to her bed-room, while 
 the old lady, utterly overwhelmed by the flood of satire 
 the Queen had poured out upon her, withdrew, mutter- 
 ing: 
 
 " Yes, yes, he is a Douglas, and I trust that with 
 God's help we will prove it." 
 
 The Queen's strength did not abandon her so long as 
 it was sustained by her enemy's presence; but the 
 moment she was left with no other witness of her weak- 
 ness than Mary Seaton she threw herself into a chair 
 and fell to weeping bitterly. In very truth she had 
 received a cruel blow : until that day no man had ever 
 come near her without doing homage to the majesty of 
 her royal rank, or to her beauty of feature. And lo ! 
 the very man upon whom she had instinctively founded 
 hopes of deliverance, without knowing why, insulted her 
 twice over, both as queen and as woman. 
 
 She kept her room until evening. At the dinner-hour 
 Lady Lochleven mounted to the Queen's apartments, 
 arrayed in her robe of honor, and followed by four ser- 
 vants bearing the different dishes of which the prisoner's 
 repast was to consist. They were followed by the old 
 steward of the castle, with his gold chain of office around 
 his neck and his ivory cane in his hand, as on ceremon- 
 ious occasions. The servants placed the dishes on the
 
 MARY STUART. 93 
 
 table, and waited in silence until it should please the 
 Queen to take her place at the table. But when the 
 bed-room door opened, it was to admit Mary Seaton 
 instead of the Queen. 
 
 " Madame " she said, " her Grace has not been well 
 during the day, and will take nothing this evening ; it 
 will be useless, therefore, for you to wait longer." 
 
 " Permit me to hope," Lady Lochleven replied, " that 
 ghe will change her mind ; at all events, bear witness 
 that I acquit myself of my duty." 
 
 Thereupon a servant handed her bread and salt upon 
 a silver plate, while the steward, who performed the 
 duties of carver in William Douglas's absence, served 
 her with a small portion of each of the dishes on the 
 table. 
 
 " So the Queen will not appear again to-day ? " Lady 
 Lochleven inquired, when this operation was at an end. 
 
 " Such is her Majesty's determination," Mary Seaton 
 replied. 
 
 " In that case our presence is useless ; but the table is 
 served, and if her Grace has need of aught she has but 
 to call." 
 
 Therewith Lady Lochleven withdrew with the same 
 unbending dignity which marked her coming ; the four 
 servants and the steward followed her. 
 
 As the mistress of the house had foreseen, the Queen 
 yielded at length to Mary Seaton's entreaties and left 
 her chamber about eight in the evening ; she took her 
 place at the table, waited upon by her only remaining 
 lady of honor, and ate sparingly ; then she rose and 
 went to the window. 
 
 It was one of those superb summer evenings, when all 
 nature seems to be making holiday. The sky was 
 studded with stars, which were reflected in the lake
 
 94 MARY STUART. 
 
 below, and in their midst, like a star of greater bril- 
 liancy, shone the flame of a torch at the stern of a small 
 boat. By the light which it shed the Queen recognized 
 George and Little Douglas fishing. Despite her longing 
 to take advantage of the beautiful evening and to take 
 her fill of the pure night air, the sight of the youth who 
 had put so gross an outrage upon her during the day 
 affected her so keenly that she at once closed her window 
 and returned to her bed-room. She lay down, and re- 
 quested her companion in captivity to read certain 
 prayers aloud to her ; but she could not sleep, so great 
 was her excitement, so she rose again, and throwing on 
 her dressing-gown, resumed her seat at the window : the 
 boat had disappeared. 
 
 Mary sat for a great part of the night gazing abstract- 
 edly into the vast expanse of heaven or across the dark 
 waters of the lake. Notwithstanding the disturbing 
 nature of the thoughts which filled her brain, she ex- 
 perienced great physical relief from the gentle breath 
 of the pure, sweet air, and her rapt contemplation of 
 the silent, peaceful night. The result was that she 
 awoke the next morning more tranquil and more re- 
 signed. Unfortunately, the sight of Lady Lochleven, 
 who made her appearance at the breakfast hour, to per- 
 form the duties of taster, brought back all her irritabil- 
 ity. Still, matters might perhaps have passed off without 
 clashing, if Lady Lochleven had retired after tasting 
 the different dishes, instead of remaining standing by 
 the buffet. But her persistence in standing by her 
 throughout the meal, although it may have been really 
 intended as a mark of respect, seemed to the Queen 
 intolerable tyranny. 
 
 " Little one," she said to Mary Seaton, " have you so 
 soon forgot that our excellent hostess yesterday be-
 
 MARY STUART. 95 
 
 moaned the fatigue which it cost her to remain upon her 
 feet ? Bring one of the two stools which furnish forth 
 our royal apartments, and be careful not to select the 
 one with the broken leg." 
 
 " If the appointments of Lochleven Castle are in such 
 a lamentable plight, Madame, it is the fault of the Kings 
 of Scotland ; the poor Douglases have had so little share 
 in the favor of their sovereigns for nearly a century, that 
 they have been unable to maintain the splendid estab- 
 lishments of their ancestors, or even to compete with 
 simple commoners in that regard ; and there was once 
 a musician in Scotland, who, as I am told, spent more 
 than their yearly income in a single month." 
 
 " They who are so expert in helping themselves, my 
 Lady," rejoined the Queen, " stand in no need of gifts. 
 The Douglases, methinks, have lost nothing by waiting, 
 and there is not a younger son of that illustrious family 
 who may not to-day aspire to the most eminent alliances. 
 Verily, 'tis pity that our sister the Queen of England 
 has, as it is said, taken a vow to remain a virgin." 
 
 " Or that the Queen of Scotland is not the widow of 
 her third husband," interposed Lady Lochleven. "How- 
 ever," the old lady continued, as if suddenly remember- 
 ing herself, " I do not say that by way of reproach to 
 your Grace, for the Catholics regard marriage as a sac- 
 rament, and by the same token receive it as often as 
 possible." 
 
 " Therein lies the distinction between them and the 
 Huguenots," Mary retorted, " for they have not equal 
 respect for it, and therefore think that under certain 
 circumstances they are justified in dispensing with it 
 altogether." 
 
 At this terrible shaft of sarcasm Lady Lochleven took 
 a step toward the Queen, holding in her hand the knife
 
 96 MARY STUART. 
 
 that she had just used to cut off a morsel of the meat 
 which was given her to taste ; but the Queen rose and 
 stood facing her so calmly and majestically that invol- 
 untary respect, or shame of her first impulse, caused her 
 to drop the weapon ; and as she could find no words strong 
 enough to express what she felt, she motioned to the 
 servants to follow her, and left the room with such 
 dignity as her wrath permitted her to assume. 
 
 As soon as the door closed behind her, the Queen 
 resumed her seat, beaming with delight and triumph at 
 the victory she had won ; and ate with better appetite 
 than she had done since she became a prisoner, while 
 Mary Seaton, in an undertone, but without the least 
 failure of respect, was deploring the fatal gift of satirical 
 rejoinder which Mary had received from heaven, and 
 which was one of the prime causes of her misfortunes. 
 But the Queen laughed at her reflections, saying that 
 she was curious to see how her worthy hostess would 
 bear herself at dinner. 
 
 After breakfast, the Queen went down to the garden ; 
 the gratification of her pride had restored in part her 
 former gay humor, and as she noticed a mandolin lying 
 on a chair in the hall as they passed through, she com- 
 manded Mary Seaton to take it, so that she might see, 
 she said, whether she still retained aught of her former 
 talent. She was, in truth, one of the most accomplished 
 musicians of the time, and played admirably, so says 
 Brantome, on the lute and mole cf amour, an instrument 
 closely resembling the mandolin. 
 
 When they reached the garden, the Queen sat down 
 in the darkest corner of the shrubbery, and there, having 
 tuned her instrument, she began to touch the strings 
 lightly and with animation, but gradually the chords 
 she struck became sad and mournful, at the same time
 
 MARY STUART. 97 
 
 that her features took on an expression of profound 
 melancholy. Mary Seaton watched her anxiously, 
 although she had been long accustomed to these sudden 
 changes of mood in her mistress, and she was about to 
 ask the reason of the gloomy veil which had suddenly 
 overspread her features, when Mary began to sing in a 
 low voice, and as if for her own ear alone, the following 
 verses: 
 
 Antres, pres, monts et plaines 
 
 Rochers, fortts et bois, 
 Ruisseaux, fleuvea, fontaines, 
 
 Ou perdu je me vois, 
 D'une plainte incertaine 
 De sanglots tout pleine, 
 
 Je veux chanter, 
 LA miserable peine 
 Qul me fait lamenter. 
 
 Mais qui pourra entendre 
 
 Mon souper g6 mis-san t ? 
 Ou qui pourra comprendre 
 
 Mon ennui languissant 7 
 8era-ce cet herbage, 
 Ou 1'eau de ce rivage, 
 
 Qui, s'6coulant, 
 Porte de mon visage 
 Ce ruisseau distillant? 
 
 H61as ! non, car la plaie 
 
 Cherche en vain guerison, 
 Qui pour secours essaie, 
 
 Aux choses sans raison. 
 n vaut mieux que ma plainte 
 Raconte son atteinte 
 
 Amerement 
 A toi qui as contrainte 
 Mon ftme en tel tourment. 
 
 O, deesse immortelle, 
 
 Ecoute done ma voix, 
 Toi qui tiens en tutelle, 
 
 Mon pouvoir sous tes loia, 
 Afln que si ma vie 
 Se voit en href tarie, 
 
 Ta cruaute, 
 La confesse prie 
 Par ta seule beante. 
 Vol. IV.-7.
 
 98 MARY STUART. 
 
 On yoit bien que ma faco 
 
 S'ecoule peu & peu, 
 Comme la froide glace 
 
 A la chaleur du feu. 
 Et nfianmoins la flamme 
 Qui me brtile et m'enfiamme 
 
 De passion, 
 
 K'emeut jamais ton ftme 
 U'aucune affection. 
 
 Et cependant ses arbres, 
 
 Qui sont autour de moi, 
 Ces rochers et ces marbres 
 
 Savent bien mon 6moi. 
 Bref, rien dans la nature 
 N'ignore ma blessure, 
 
 Hors seulement 
 Toi, qui prends nourriture 
 De mon cruel torment. 
 
 Mais s'il t'est agreable 
 De me voir miserable 
 
 En tourment tel, 
 Mon malheur deplorable 
 Soit alors immortel. 
 
 The last lines were hardly audible, as if the Queen 
 were at the end of her strength, and at the same time 
 the mandolin slipped from her hands and would have 
 fallen to the ground had not Mary Seaton thrown her- 
 self on her knees and caught it. She knelt there for 
 some time at her mistress's feet, gazing silently into her 
 face, and as she saw that she was sinking deeper and 
 deeper in gloomy abstraction, she asked hesitatingly : 
 
 "Did those verses recall sad memories to your 
 Majesty's mind ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes," was the reply, " they reminded me of the 
 poor boy who wrote them." 
 
 " May I, without being impertinent, ask your grace to 
 tell me who was the author ? " 
 
 " Alas ! he was a gallant, noble, handsome youth, 
 devoted and impulsive, who would be protecting me to- 
 day, had I but protected him then ; but his forwardness
 
 MARY STUART. 99 
 
 Beemed to me downright hardihood and his fault a 
 crime. What would you? I loved him not. Poor 
 Chastelard ! I was very cruel to him ! " 
 
 " But you did not bring him to trial ; it was your 
 brother ; you did not sentence him, but the judges." 
 
 "Yes, yes; I know that he was one of Murray's 
 victims, and for that reason, doubtless, the thought of 
 him came to my mind. But I might have pardoned 
 him, Mary, and I was inflexible ; I allowed a man 
 whose only crime was that he loved me too well to die 
 upon the scaffold ; and now I wonder and repine because 
 I am abandoned by all. Listen, little one ; there is one 
 thing which terrifies me beyond measure : when I search 
 my own conscience I find that my fate is deserved ; nay, 
 more, that God does not punish me severely enough." 
 
 " Such foolish ideas will turn your Grace's brain ! " 
 cried Mary ; " see to what a pass those wretched verses 
 have brought you, which came to your mind to-day, of 
 all days, just when you were beginning to be yourself 
 once more." 
 
 " Alas ! " the Queen replied, shaking her head with a 
 long-drawn sigh, " there have been but few days these 
 six years past that I have not repeated those verses to 
 myself, although this to-day is the first time that I have 
 repeated them aloud. He was a Frenchman, too, Mary ; 
 they have banished, imprisoned or slain all those who 
 came hither with me from France. Dost remember the 
 vessel which sank before our eyes as we sailed forth from 
 the harbor of Calais? I cried then that it was an 
 ominous portent, and you tried, every one, to console me ; 
 now, say you, which was in the right, you or I ? " 
 
 The Queen had fallen into one of those fits of melan- 
 choly for which tears are the only remedy? And so 
 Mary Seaton, realizing that any attempt at consolation
 
 100 MABY STUART. 
 
 would be inopportune as well as fruitless, fell in with 
 her mistress's mood, instead of struggling against it. 
 The result was that the Queen, whose sobs were stifling 
 her, at last wept freely, and was greatly relieved there- 
 by; she gradually recovered her self-control, and the 
 paroxysm left her, as such paroxysms always did, firmer 
 and more resolute than before, so that when she returned 
 to her apartment it was impossible to read upon her 
 features the slightest trace of emotion. 
 
 The dinner hour drew nigh, and Mary, who in the 
 morning had longed impatiently for it, in order to enjoy 
 her triumph, now viewed its approach with some uneasi- 
 ness. The bare thought of coming again face to face with 
 that woman, whose pride she had constantly to put down 
 with sarcasm, wearied her anew, after the mental fatigue 
 of the day. She therefore determined to absent herself 
 from dinner as she did the preceding day. She was the 
 more inclined to congratulate herself upon this deter- 
 mination when she learned that on this occasion the 
 duties which the family had undertaken to perform to 
 set the Queen's mind at rest were not performed by 
 Lady Lochleven, but by George Douglas, whom his 
 mother, still chafing over the scene of the morning, sent 
 to replace her. When Mary Seaton informed the 
 Queen that she saw the black-haired youth coming 
 across the court-yard on his way to her apartments, 
 Mary, as we have seen, was well satisfied with the course 
 she had adopted, for the young man's impertinence 
 wounded her more deeply than all the overbearing 
 insolence of his mother. 
 
 She was not a little surprised, therefore, when Mary 
 Seaton came to her to say that George Douglas had 
 dismissed the servants, and craved the honor of speaking 
 with her concerning a matter of great importance. The
 
 MARY STUART. 101 
 
 Queen refused at first, but her attendant said that the 
 young man's manner and bearing were so different from 
 what they had been two days before, that she thought 
 her mistress would make a serious mistake if she refused 
 his request. 
 
 Thereupon the Queen rose and with the haughty and 
 majestic air which was so natural to her, entered the 
 adjoining room, and having taken a few steps beyond 
 the door, stopped, and waited with a disdainful expres- 
 sion on her face for George to address her. 
 
 Mary Seaton had said no more than the truth: 
 George Douglas was not the same man. He seemed 
 every whit as respectful and timorous as he was insolent 
 and overbearing on the previous occasion. He made a 
 movement toward the Queen, but checked himself when 
 he saw Mary Seaton standing behind her. 
 
 " Madame," he said, " I am particularly desirous to 
 speak with your Majesty alone ; may I not have that 
 honor ? " 
 
 " Mary Seaton is as no one in my eyes, Sir ; she is my 
 sister, my friend ; nay, more than that, she is the com- 
 panion of my captivity." 
 
 " And in each of those capacities, Madame, I have 
 the utmost veneration for her ; but what I have to say 
 to your Majesty must be heard by no ears but yours. 
 Therefore, Madame, as the opportunity which this 
 moment affords may not recur, in the name of all that 
 you hold dearest on earth, grant what I ask." 
 
 There was an accent of such earnest and respectful 
 entreaty in George's voice that Mary turned to the 
 young girl, and said, with an affectionate gesture : 
 
 " Go, little one, but never fear ; you shall lose nothing 
 by not hearing. Go." 
 
 Mary Seaton withdrew : the Queen followed her with
 
 102 MARY STUART. 
 
 her eyes, until the door closed behind her, when she 
 turned to George. 
 
 " Now, Sir, we are alone," she said ; " say on." 
 But George, in lieu of replying, walked toward the 
 Queen, and put his knee to the floor, and, as he did so, 
 drew a paper from his breast, and handed it to her. 
 Mary took it in amazement, and while she unfolded it 
 gazed fixedly at Douglas, who remained in the same 
 position. Casting her eyes upon the paper, she read 
 what follows : 
 
 " We, peers of Scotland, in consideration of the fact 
 that our Queen is held prisoner at Lochleven, and that 
 her faithful subjects are denied access to her person, 
 and since our duty demands that we take measures to 
 assure her safety, do engage and make oath to employ 
 every means in our power to set her at liberty on condi- 
 tions consistent with her Majesty's honor, the well-being 
 of the kingdom, and to guarantee the lives of those who 
 hold her in prison, provided that they consent to release 
 her ; if they refuse we declare that we propose to devote 
 ourselves and our children, friends, servants and vassals, 
 our property and our lives, to the effort to set her at 
 liberty, to assure the welfare of the Prince, and to press 
 forward the punishment of the murderers of the late 
 King. If we are assailed for this step, either as a body 
 or individually, we swear to defend ourselves, and to 
 bear aid to one another, or confess ourselves infamous 
 and perjured. May God help us. 
 
 " Signed with our own hands at Dunbarton, 
 "ANDREWS, ARGYLE, HUNTLY, ARBROATH, GALLO- 
 WAY, Ross, FLEMING, HERRIES, STIRLING, KILWIN- 
 NING, WILT,(?) HAMILTON, ST. GLAIR." 
 
 " And Seaton 1 " exclaimed Mary ; " among all these 
 signatures, I do not see that of my faithful Seaton."
 
 MARY 8TUABT. 103 
 
 Douglas, still kneeling, drew another paper from his 
 breast, and handed it to the Queen with the same marks 
 of respect. It contained only these few words : 
 
 " Trust George Douglas ; for your Majesty has no 
 more devoted friend in all your kingdom." SEATON. 
 
 Thereupon Mary looked down into Douglas's face 
 with an expression which belonged to her alone : then 
 she held out her hand to assist him to rise. 
 
 "Ah ! " she said, with a sigh in which there was more 
 joy than sorrow, " now I see that God has not even yet 
 abandoned me, despite my errors ; but how can it be 
 that here, in this castle, you a Douglas ; Oh! I 
 cannot believe it ! " 
 
 " Madame," George replied, " seven years have passed 
 since I first saw you in France, and seven years have 
 passed since I began to love you." 
 
 Mary started, but Douglas put out his hand, and 
 shook his head with an expression of such profound 
 melancholy, that she saw that she could safely listen to 
 what he had to say to her. 
 
 "Take heart, Madame," he continued, "I should 
 never have made that avowal, except that it may, by 
 explaining my conduct, lead you to place greater confi- 
 dence in me. Yes, for seven years I have loved you, 
 but as one loves a star which one cannot attain, or a 
 madonna to whom one can only pray. For seven years 
 I have followed you everywhere, without so much as a 
 look from you, and without ever saying a word or mak- 
 ing a gesture to attract your attention. I was upon the 
 Chevalier de Nevillon's galley when you came to Scot- 
 land ; I was among the Regent's troops when you fought 
 with Huntly ; I was of your escort when you went to 
 visit the King at Glasgow during his illness ; I reached 
 Edinburgh an hour after your departure for Lochleven ;
 
 104 MARY STUART. 
 
 then for the first time it seemed to me that my true 
 mission was revealed to me and that the passion with 
 which I had hitherto reproached myself as a crime was, 
 on the contrary, a signal mark of God's favor. I learned 
 that the nobles were assembled at Dunbarton, and I 
 hastened thither. I pledged my name, my honor and 
 my life, and I obtained from them, because of the ease 
 with which I can pass in and out of this fortress, the 
 privilege of bringing to you the document which they 
 had just signed. Now, Madame, forget all that I have 
 said, except the assurance of my respect and devotion ; 
 forget that I am near you ; I am used to not being seen ; 
 but if you need my life you have but to make a sign, 
 for it has been at your service for seven years." 
 
 " Alas ! " said Mary, " this morning I was bewailing 
 that I was no longer loved, whereas I ought to bewail 
 the love that is still mine ; for the love which I inspire 
 is fatal. Young as I am, Douglas, turn your thoughts 
 back and count the graves I have left along my path. 
 Francois II., Chastelard, Rizzio, Darnley Oh ! it must 
 be something more than love which leads you to adhere 
 to my fortunes now ; it must be true, unselfish devotion 
 and heroism, with the more reason, Douglas, because, as 
 you, yourself, said, your love is without possibility of 
 recompense ; you understand that ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Madame, Madame," said Douglas, " is it not a 
 recompense beyond my deserts to see you every day, to 
 cherish the hope that I may be instrumental in securing 
 your liberty, and to be certain that if I do not succeed 
 therein, I shall at least die before your eyes." 
 
 " Poor boy ! " murmured Mary, looking upward, as if 
 she were reading on the heavens the fate of her new 
 partisan. 
 
 " Happy Douglas, rather ! " cried George, seizing the
 
 MARY STUART. 105 
 
 Queen's hand and kissing it, with even more respect than 
 love ; " happy Douglas ! for he has already won from 
 your Majesty more than he dared to hope a sigh." 
 
 " Upon what did you and my friends resolve ? " said 
 the Queen, raising him from the humble attitude which 
 he had thus far maintained. 
 
 " Nothing as yet," George replied, " for we scarcely 
 had time to speak together ; your escape, which would 
 be impossible without me, will be very difficult even 
 with my assistance, and your Majesty saw that it was 
 necessary for me to treat you with absolute disrespect 
 before my mother, so that she might have that confidence 
 in me which procures me the happiness of seeing you 
 to-day ; if that confidence on my mother's part or my 
 brother's ever reaches the point that they entrust the 
 keys of the castle to my keeping, you are saved ! I beg 
 your Majesty to be surprised at nothing ; in public I 
 shall always be a Douglas, that is to say, your enemy, 
 and unless your life should be in danger, I shall not say 
 a word or make a motion which can arouse suspicion of 
 the oath I have sworn to you. But I implore your Grace 
 to remember that, present or absent, whether I speak or 
 keep silent, whether I act or remain inactive, my devo- 
 tion alone is unchanging and unchangeable. Look 
 every evening in that direction," he continued, walking 
 to the window and pointing to a small house on the hill 
 of Kinross, " and so long as you see a light shining 
 there, you may know that your friends are watching 
 over you, and that you must not lose hope." 
 
 " Thanks, Douglas, thanks," said the Queen, " it is 
 inspiring to one's courage to meet with a heart like 
 yours from time to time ; oh ! thanks ! " 
 
 " And now, Madame, I must take my leave of your 
 Majesty ; to remain longer with you would be to arouse
 
 106 MARY STUART. 
 
 suspicion, and a single whisper of suspicion concerning 
 my trustworthiness and that light, which is your only 
 beacon of hope, is extinguished and all is dark again." 
 
 Therewith Douglas bowed more respectfully than he 
 had yet done and withdrew, leaving Mary with her 
 heart filled with hope and with gratified pride ; for the 
 homage which had just been laid at her feet was offered 
 to the woman rather than to the Queen. 
 
 It was not long before Mary Seaton knew everything, 
 even Douglas's passion, as the Queen had promised her, 
 and the two women impatiently awaited the coming of 
 darkness, to see whether the star which they were told 
 to expect was twinkling on the horizon. Their hopes 
 were not disappointed ; as soon as night fell, the light 
 appeared, and the Queen fairly trembled with delight ; 
 nor could her companion induce her to leave the window, 
 where she sat with her eyes fixed upon the little house 
 at Kinross. At last she yielded to Mary's entreaties and 
 consented to go to bed ; but twice during the night she 
 rose and stole silently to the window. The light was 
 always burning, and disappeared only at dawn, with its 
 sisters, the stars. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast George announced to 
 the Queen the return of his brother William. He was 
 to arrive that same evening, and George arranged to 
 leave Lochleven the following day in order to come to 
 an understanding with the lords who signed the declara- 
 tion and who had separated at once to raise troops in 
 their respective counties. The Queen could not wisely 
 make any attempt at flight until she could be sure of 
 assembling an army strong enough to take the field, and 
 they were so accustomed to Douglas's silent disappear- 
 ances and unexpected returns that there was no reason 
 to fear that his departure would arouse suspicion.
 
 MARY STUART. 107 
 
 Everything happened as George had said; that 
 evening a blast on the horn announced William's arrival ; 
 with him was Lord Ruthven, the son of him who mur- 
 dered Rizzio and died an exile in England of the disease 
 which had taken hold of him before the terrible occur- 
 rence in which he played so prominent a part. They 
 were a day in advance of Lord Lindsay of the Byres 
 and Sir Robert Melville, brother of Mary's former 
 ambassador to Elizabeth. The three were entrusted 
 with a mission to the Queen on the part of the Regent. 
 
 The next day the old order of things was restored 
 and William Douglas resumed the duties of carver. 
 The breakfast hour came and went, and Mary heard no 
 word of George's departure or the arrival of Lord 
 Ruthven. When she left the table she went to the 
 window, and was hardly there when she heard the horn 
 ring out on shore, and saw a small body of horsemen 
 waiting for the boat to come and take off such of them 
 as proposed to visit the castle. 
 
 The distance was too great for Mary to recognize any 
 of them, but it was evident enough from the signals 
 which were being exchanged between the little troop 
 and the occupants of the castle that the newcomers were 
 her enemies. In her uneasiness on that account the 
 Queen did not take her eyes off the boat which went 
 ashore to fetch them. She saw that only two men went 
 aboard, and the boat at once started back to the castle. 
 
 As the little craft drew near, Mary's forebodings 
 changed to downright alarm, for in one of the newcomers 
 she fancied that she recognized Lord Lindsay of the 
 Byres, who had escorted her to her prison a week before. 
 It was, indeed, himself, wearing, as usual, a visorless 
 steel helmet, which left exposed his harsh features, made 
 to give expression to brutal passions, and his long black
 
 108 MARY STUART. 
 
 beard, sprinkled with gray, which fell down over his 
 chest. Hi a body was protected, as if he were going 
 into battle, by his trusty cuirass, once well gilded and 
 polished, but now eaten with rust from much exposure to 
 mist and rain. He wore across his back, as one might 
 wear a quiver, a huge sword, so heavy that both hands 
 were required to wield it, and so long that while the hilt 
 was at the left shoulder, the point reached to the right spur. 
 In a word, he was the same rough soldier, brave to fool- 
 hardiness, but brutal and insolent, recognizing nothing 
 but right and brute force, and always ready to resort to 
 brute force when he believed himself in the right. 
 
 The Queen was so engrossed by the sight of Lord 
 Lindsay of the Byres that she neglected, until the boat 
 was about to land, to glance at his companion, in whom 
 she recognized Sir Robert Melville. This was some 
 consolation to her, for she knew that, whatever might 
 happen, she could be sure of his secret sympathy, even 
 though he dared not show it. His costume, too, by 
 which it was possible to form an opinion of the man, as 
 it was to form an opinion of Lord Lindsay by his, was 
 strikingly in contrast to that of his companion. It 
 consisted of a black velvet doublet with cap and plume 
 of the same color, the latter kept in place by a gold 
 clasp; his only weapon, offensive or defensive, was a 
 small sword, which he seemed to carry rather to indicate 
 his rank than for purposes of attack or defense. His 
 features and bearing were in keeping with his pacific 
 exterior ; his pale face expressed shrewdness and intelli- 
 gence ; his bright eye shone with a mild light, and his 
 winning voice, and slender figure, the latter slightly 
 bent by habit rather than by the burden of years, for 
 he was only forty-five at this time, signified a yielding 
 and compliant disposition.
 
 MARY STUART. 109 
 
 The presence of this man of peace, however, whose 
 mission probably was to keep an eye on the demon of 
 war, did not allay the Queen's fears, and as the boat 
 passed out of sight around a corner of one of the towers 
 to reach the landing-place in front of the main gateway, 
 she ordered Mary Seaton to go down and try to ascer- 
 tain what brought Lord Lindsay to Lochleven. She 
 had sufficient confidence in her own strength of will to 
 feel sure that a few moments preparation, whatever the 
 motive of his visit might be, would suffice for her to 
 pose her features, and assume the calm and majestic 
 demeanor which had always made so deep an impression 
 upon her enemies. 
 
 When her attendant left her, Mary turned her eyes 
 upon the little house at Kinross, her only resource, but 
 the distance was so great that she could distinguish 
 nothing ; furthermore, the shutters seemed to be closed 
 all day, and to open only in the evening, as the clouds, 
 after they have veiled the sky from early morning, move 
 apart at last and allow the lost sailor to see a single star. 
 Nevertheless she stood there like a statue, with her eyes 
 fixed upon the same spot, when Mary Seaton's returning 
 footstep roused her from her rapt contemplation. 
 
 "Well, little one?" she asked, turning toward the 
 door. 
 
 " Your Majesty was not mistaken ; it is Sir Robert 
 Melville and Lord Lindsay, but a third ambassador 
 arrived yesterday with William Douglas, whose name, I 
 greatly fear, is much more hateful to your Majesty than 
 either of those I have mentioned." 
 
 "You are in error, Mary," the Queen rejoined: 
 " neither Melville's name nor that of Lindsay is hateful 
 to me ; nay, more, the name of Melville, in my present 
 plight, is one of those which it would give me the great-
 
 110 MABY STUABT. 
 
 est pleasure to hear ; and while Lord Lindsay's name 
 assuredly does not strike sweetly upon my ear, it is none 
 the less an honorable name, always borne by men who 
 are incapable of treason, rough and ill-mannered though 
 they be. But tell me, prithee, what is this other name, 
 Mary ; I am prepared to hear it, as you see." 
 
 " Alas ! Madame," replied Mary Seaton, " I entreat 
 you to summon all your courage, calm though you be 
 and well prepared ; for not only must you hear the 
 name pronounced, but in a few moments you must re- 
 ceive the man who bears it Lord Ruthven." 
 
 She spoke truly : the name produced a terrible effect 
 upon the Queen. It had hardly passed the young girl's 
 lips when Mary uttered a piercing shriek, and clung to 
 the casement for support, turning as pale as death. 
 Mary Seaton rushed to her side to support her, but she 
 held out one hand to check her, and pressed the other 
 against her heart. 
 
 " It's nothing," she said, " and I shall be myself again 
 in an instant. Yes, Mary, yes, it is, as you well said, a 
 fatal name, and inseparably connected with a most bitter 
 and painful memory. The demand which such men are 
 commissioned to make upon me is like to be one of ter- 
 rible import. But it matters not ; soon I shall be pre- 
 pared to receive my brother's ambassadors, for doubtless 
 they come in his name. Do you, little one, see that 
 they enter not, for I needs must have a few moments to 
 recover my wits ; you know me ; it will not be long." 
 
 With that the Queen walked with a firm step to the 
 door of her bed-room. 
 
 Mary Seaton was left alone, marveling at the strength 
 of will which made of Mary Stuart, who was such a 
 thorough woman at all other times, a man when danger 
 was near. She went at once to the door to secure it with
 
 MARY STUART. Ill 
 
 the wooden bar which ran through two iron staples, but 
 the bar was taken away, so that there was no way to 
 secure the door on the inside. A moment later she 
 heard some one coming up the stairway, and guessing, by 
 the heavy, resounding step, that it was Lord Lindsay, 
 she looked around once again to see if she could find 
 nothing to replace the bar. But nothing was at hand, 
 so she passed her arm through the staples, determined 
 to let it be broken, rather than allow her mistress 
 to be disturbed one moment before it suited her con- 
 venience. 
 
 As soon as the steps reached the landing, some one 
 knocked loudly on the door, and a harsh voice cried : 
 
 " Come, come, open the door ! open at once ! " 
 
 " By what right," demanded Mary Seaton, " do you 
 thus insolently call upon me to open the door of the 
 Queen of Scotland?" 
 
 " By the right which the ambassador of the Regent 
 possesses to enter anywhere in his name ; I am Lord 
 Lindsay, and I have come to have speech of Lady Mary 
 Stuart." 
 
 " An ambassador is not exempt from the necessity of 
 causing his visit to be announced to a lady, and with the 
 greater reason to a Queen," Mary Seaton retorted, "and 
 though the ambassador be, as he says, Lord Lindsay, he 
 will await his sovereign's leisure, as every noble Scotch- 
 man would do in his place." 
 
 " By St. Andrew ! " cried Lord Lindsay, " open, or I 
 will break down the door I " 
 
 "Do nothing of the sort, my Lord, I beg," said 
 another voice, which Mary recognized as Melville's ; " let 
 us rather wait a moment for Lord Ruthven, who is not 
 yet ready." 
 
 " On my soul ! " cried Lindsay, shaking the door
 
 112 MARY STUART. 
 
 violently, "I will not wait a second." As the door 
 resisted his efforts, he said to the steward : 
 
 " Did you not tell me, villain, that the bar had been 
 taken away ? " 
 
 " And so it has," he replied. 
 
 " If that be so, with what is this jade holding the 
 door?" 
 
 "With my arm, my Lord, which I have thrust 
 through the staples, as a Douglas did for James I. in 
 the days when the Douglases had black hair instead of 
 red, and were faithful subjects instead of traitors." 
 
 " As you know your history so well," retorted Lind- 
 say* "you should remember that that weak barrier 
 failed to check Graham, that Catherine Douglas's arm 
 was broken like a willow wand, and James I. killed like 
 a dog." 
 
 " And you, my Lord," replied the dauntless maiden, 
 " should be familiar with the ballad, which has come 
 down to us, and is sung to-day : 
 
 Honni soft Robert Graham, 
 
 Du roi 1'assassin infame. 
 Robert Graham honni soit 
 
 L'assassin de notre roi. 
 
 "Mary," cried the Queen, who had overheard this 
 colloquy from her bed-room, " Mary, I command you to 
 open the door at once, dost hear me ? " 
 
 Mary obeyed, and Lord Lindsay entered, followed by 
 Melville with lowered head, and hesitating step. Half- 
 way across the second room of the suite Lindsay stopped, 
 and cast an eye around. 
 
 " Well, where is she ? " he asked ; " has she not kept 
 us waiting long enough without, that she keeps us still 
 waiting within ? or does she fancy that she is still Queen, 
 for all these walls and bars ? "
 
 MARY STUART. 113 
 
 " Patience, my Lord," Sir Robert mildly remonstrated; 
 " Lord Ruthven has not yet arrived, so let us await his 
 coming, as we can do naught without him." 
 
 " Let him wait who chooses," snarled Lindsay, aflame 
 with indignation; "I will not bide her pleasure, but 
 wherever she be, there will I seek her out." 
 
 As he spoke he took several steps toward the Queen's 
 bed-room, but at that moment the Queen opened the 
 door, apparently unmoved, either by the visit or the 
 overbearing insolence of the visitor, and she was so 
 lovely withal, and her bearing was so instinct with 
 majesty, that even Lindsay himself was awed to silence 
 by the sight, and bowed respectfully as if in obedience 
 to a superior power. 
 
 " We fear we have detained you, my Lord of Lind- 
 say," said the Queen, without other acknowledgment of 
 the salute of the ambassadors than a slight inclination 
 of the head, " but a woman does not willingly receive 
 even her enemies without some minutes spent at the 
 toilette. Men, it is true, are less dependent on such 
 ceremonies," she added, glancing significantly at Lind- 
 say's rusty armor, and stained and torn doublet. " Good 
 morrow, Melville," she continued, disregarding Lindsay's 
 muttered apologies; "welcome to our prison-house, as 
 you were always welcome to our palaces, for I believe 
 you to be the same faithful servant in one as in the 
 other." 
 
 Then she turned again to Lindsay, who was watching 
 the door, impatiently awaiting Ruthven. 
 
 " You have there a trusty, albeit a somewhat weighty, 
 traveling companion, my Lord," she said, pointing to the 
 sword which he wore slung over his shoulder. " Can it 
 be that you expected to meet, on your way hither, any 
 enemy against whom to employ it ? If not, it is a strange 
 
 Vol. IV.-8.
 
 114 MARY STUART. 
 
 adornment with which to appear before a woman ; but 
 it matters not, my Lord, I am too much of a Stuart, I 
 give you warning, to fear a sword, even though it be a 
 naked one." 
 
 " It is not out of place here, Madame," replied Lind- 
 say, bringing the weapon round in front of him with 
 the point on the ground, and resting his elbow on the 
 hilt, " for it is an old acquaintance of your family." 
 
 " Your ancestors, my Lord, were so brave and so loyal 
 that I venture not to doubt what you say. Marry, so 
 good a blade may well have rendered them good service." 
 
 " Yes, Madame, yes, that it did, but it was such ser- 
 vice as Kings never forgive. He who performed the 
 service with it was Archibald Bell-the-Cat, and he was 
 girded with it on the day when, to justify his name, he 
 dragged from the tent of your great-grandfather, the 
 third James, his crew of fawning minions, whom he 
 hung over the bridge of Lauder with the halters of 
 his soldiers' horses. With this same sword he slew at 
 one blow in single combat Speirs of Kelspendie, who 
 dared to speak lightly of him in presence of Bang 
 James IV., trusting to the protection of his master, 
 which was of no more avail against it than was his 
 buckler, which it clove in twain. Upon its master's 
 death, which took place two years later, after the defeat 
 of Flodden, where he left his two sons and two hundred 
 warriors bearing the Douglas name upon the field, it 
 passed to the hands of the Earl of Angus, who drew it 
 from the scabbard when he hunted the Hamiltons out 
 of Edinburgh, which he accomplished so quickly and so 
 thoroughly that the affair was called the ' street-sweep- 
 ing.' Lastly, your father, James V., saw its glitter at 
 the battle of the bridge of the Tweed, when Buccleuch, 
 incited thereto by him, tried to snatch him from the
 
 MARY STUART. 115 
 
 guardianship of the Douglases, and twenty-four war- 
 riors of the name of Scott remained upon the field." 
 
 "How happens it, pray," said Mary, "that such a 
 weapon did not remain as a trophy in the Douglas 
 family? Doubtless it must have required some great 
 emergency to induce the Earl of Angus to part with 
 this modern Caliburn in your favor ? " 
 
 "Yes, Madame, you say well that it was a great 
 emergency," Lindsay replied, disregarding Melville's 
 gestures of entreaty, "and it has advantage of the 
 others of being so near our own days that you will 
 readily recall it. Know then, Madame, that it was but 
 ten days since upon the field of Carberry-Hill, when the 
 infamous traitor Bothwell dared to challenge to single 
 combat any man who should maintain that he was not 
 guiltless of the murder of the King, your husband. I 
 was the third to tell him to his teeth that he was a 
 murderer; and as he refused to fight with the two 
 others on the pretext that they were simple barons, I, 
 who am an earl, came forward in my turn. Then was 
 it that the noble Earl of Morton gifted me with his 
 good sword that I might fight him to the death. Ah ! 
 had his presumption been one grain more, or his coward- 
 ice one grain less, I would have done such work with 
 this good steel on his traitorous corpse that the hounds 
 and carrion crows should have found their morsels 
 daintily carved for them." 
 
 At these words Mary Seaton and Sir Robert Melville 
 gazed at each other in terror ; for the events to which 
 they related were of such recent occurrence that they 
 were, so to speak, still living in the Queen's heart ; but 
 she, with incredible calmness and with a scornful smile 
 upon her lips, replied : 
 
 " It is easy, my Lord, to slay an enemy who enters
 
 116 MARY STUART. 
 
 not the lists ; but, believe me, had Mary Stuart inherited 
 her father's sword as well as his sceptre, your sword, 
 long as it is, might have proved too short. But as your 
 business with us at this moment, my Lord, is to tell of 
 what you propose to do, rather than of what you have 
 heretofore done, we pray your pardon if we bring your 
 mind back to something of more real interest, for, me- 
 thinks, you came not hither simply to add a chapter to 
 M. de Brantome's little treatise, Des Rodomontades 
 Espagtioles." 
 
 " You are right, Madame," Lindsay retorted, flushing 
 deep with anger, " and you would know ere this the 
 purpose of our mission if Lord Ruthven did not keep 
 us waiting so unconscionably. But be patient," he 
 added, " it will not be long now, for he comes." 
 
 Steps were heard ascending the stairs and approach- 
 ing the room as he spoke, and at the sound, the Queen, 
 who had endured Lindsay's insults with so much spirit, 
 lost color so perceptibly that Melville, who had not taken 
 his eyes from her face, put out his hand toward her 
 armchair as if to force her into it ; but she motioned to 
 him that there was no need, and fixed her eyes upon the 
 door, perfectly calm to all appearances. 
 
 Lord Ruthven appeared; it was the first time the 
 Queen had seen the son since Rizzio was murdered by 
 the father. 
 
 Lord Ruthven was at once a warrior and a statesman, 
 and his costume on this occasion partook of both char- 
 acters. It consisted of an embroidered buff coat, suitable 
 for court undress, over which a cuirass could be buckled, 
 transforming it into a warrior's garb. He was pale like 
 his father ; like his father he was fated to die young ; 
 and his face wore, even more markedly than his father's, 
 that cast of inauspicious melancholy by which the
 
 MARY STUART. 117 
 
 physiognomists of that time pretended to distinguish 
 those who were predestined to a violent and unhappy 
 death. 
 
 Lord Ruthven combined the polished dignity of the 
 courtier with the inflexible firmness of the minister ; and 
 so, although he was fully determined to obtain from 
 Mary Stuart, by force if necessary, what he had come 
 to demand in the Regent's name, he, nevertheless, 
 saluted her respectfully, albeit something coldly, as he 
 entered. The Queen acknowledged his salutation with 
 a courtesy. The steward thereupon moved a heavy 
 table provided with writing materials near to the empty 
 armchair and then, at a sign from the two noblemen, 
 left the room, leaving the Queen and her companion 
 with the three ambassadors. 
 
 The Queen, assuming that the table and chair were 
 arranged for her, seated herself, and, after a moment's 
 interval, herself broke the silence which was more 
 depressing than any words could possibly be. 
 
 " My Lords," she said, " I wait the purpose of your 
 mission ; is the message which you have in charge for 
 me of so terrible a nature that two warriors so renowned 
 as Lord Lindsay and Lord Ruthven feel even a 
 momentary hesitation in transmitting it to me ? " 
 ' "Madame," Ruthven replied, "I come of a race 
 which, as you know, never hesitates to perform its duty, 
 however painful that duty may be ; we trust, however, 
 that your captivity has prepared you to listen to what 
 we have to say to you on the part of the Secret 
 Council." 
 
 "The Secret Council!" the Queen exclaimed; "by 
 what right, pray, does that body, established by me, 
 assume to act without me? But no matter; I await 
 the message ; I presume that it is a petition imploring
 
 118 MARY STUART. 
 
 my mercy for those men who have dared to lay hands on 
 a power which I hold from God alone." 
 
 "Madame," returned Ruthven, who seemed to have 
 taken upon himself the embarrassing role of spokesman, 
 while Lord Lindsay played impatiently with the hilt of 
 his long sword, " it is very painful to me to be compelled 
 to undeceive you on that point ; I have not come to seek 
 mercy at your hands, but, on the contrary, to offer you 
 pardon from the Secret Council." 
 
 " Me, my Lord ! pardon to me ! " cried Mary ; " subjects 
 offer pardon to their Queen ! Why, the idea is so novel 
 and so astounding that my surprise overshadows my right- 
 eous anger, and I beg you to continue, instead of order- 
 ing you to stop where you are, as I ought, perhaps, to do." 
 
 " I will obey you the more willingly, Madame," 
 rejoined Ruthven coolly, " because the pardon is offered 
 only upon certain conditions set forth in these deeds, 
 which will tend to the pacification of the State, so 
 grievously compromised by the misdeeds they are in- 
 tended to repair." 
 
 "May I be permitted to read these documents, my 
 Lord, or am I expected to sign them with my eyes closed, 
 confiding implicitly in the honorable motives of those 
 who present them ? " 
 
 " No, Madame," Ruthven replied, " the Secret Council 
 is desirous that you should have full cognizance of their 
 contents, for you ought to sign them of your own free 
 will." 
 
 " Then read them to me, my Lord ; I suppose that that 
 is included among the extraordinary duties you have 
 assumed." 
 
 Lord Ruthven unfolded one of the papers which he 
 held in his hand, and read as follows, in his ordinary 
 impassive voice :
 
 MARY STUART. 119 
 
 " Called at an early age to the administration of the 
 crown and realm of Scotland, we have toiled with the 
 utmost diligence therein ; but we have become so wearied 
 and disheartened in body and spirit that we no longer 
 feel able to endure the travail and pain of state affairs ; 
 wherefore, since God has blessed us with a son, to whom 
 we are desirous to ensure, even while we live, the suc- 
 cession to the crown which is his by right of birth, we, 
 of the motherly affection we bear to our said son, have 
 renounced and demitted, and by these our letters of free 
 good will, renounce and demit, the crown, government, 
 and guiding of the realm of Scotland in favor of our 
 said son, that he may succeed to us as native prince 
 thereof, as much as if we had been removed by disease 
 and not by our own proper act. And that this demission 
 of our royal authority may have the more full and 
 solemn effect, we give, grant and commit full and free 
 and plain power to our trusty cousins, Lord Lindsay of 
 the Byres and William, Lord Ruthven, to appear in our 
 name before as many of the nobility, clergy and bur- 
 gesses as may be assembled at Stirling, and there, in our 
 name and behalf, publicly and in their presence, to 
 renounce the crown, guidance and government of this 
 our kingdom of Scotland. 
 
 " Signed of our own pleasure, and in witness of the 
 last expression of our royal will, at our Castle of Loch- 
 leven, this day of June, 1567." 
 
 The day of the month was not inserted. 
 
 After the reading was concluded, there was a moment 
 of silence. 
 
 " Did you hear, Madame ? " Ruthven asked at last. 
 
 " Yes," Mary made answer, " yes, I heard rebellious 
 phrases which I understood not, and I thought that my 
 ears, which have been for some time wonted to strange
 
 120 MARY STUART. 
 
 language, were rebels still, and that I was led to think 
 out of regard for your honor, my cousins of Lindsay 
 and Ruthven." 
 
 " Madame," Lindsay broke in, out of patience with 
 his long silence, " our honor is little concerned with the 
 opinion of a woman who has been so neglectful in 
 guarding her own." 
 
 " My Lord ! " Melville ventured to remonstrate. 
 
 " Be silent, Robert," said the Queen, " we have in our 
 conscience a buckler as well tempered as that with 
 which my Lord Lindsay is so discreetly equipped, 
 although, to the shame of justice be it said, we no longer 
 have a sword. Say on, my Lord," she continued, turn- 
 ing again to Ruthven ; is this all my loving subjects 
 require of me ! A date and a signature, ah ! that is too 
 little for them to ask ; that other parchment, which you 
 have kept till last to preserve the proper gradation, 
 doubtless contains something harder to be complied with 
 than merely to yield up a crown which is mine by 
 birthright to a child scarcely more than a year old to 
 fling down my sceptre and take up a distaff." 
 
 " This other paper," said Ruthven, unmoved by the 
 tone of bitter irony adopted by Mary, "is a deed 
 whereby your Grace confirms the decision of the Secret 
 Council, who have appointed your well-beloved brother, 
 the Earl of Murray, Regent of the kingdom." 
 
 "What do I hear?" retorted Mary, "the Secret 
 Council considers that it needs my confirmation of an 
 act of such trifling importance? and my well-beloved 
 brother finds it necessary to his peace of mind that it 
 should be my hand which bestows upon him a new title, 
 in addition to those of Mar and Murray which he 
 already owes to me ? Why, all this is respectful and 
 touching beyond expression, and I should be greatly in
 
 MARY STUART. 121 
 
 the wrong were I to make complaint. My Lords," she 
 continued, rising from the seat and changing her tone, 
 "return to those who sent you and say that to such 
 demands Mary Stuart has no reply to make." 
 
 " Beware, Madame," said Ruthven, " and remember 
 that your pardon can be granted only on these con- 
 ditions." 
 
 " And if I refuse this generous pardon, what am I 
 then to expect ? " 
 
 " It is not for me to prejudge your cause, Madame ; 
 but your Grace is sufficiently familiar with the laws and 
 the history of Scotland and England to know that 
 murder and adultery are crimes for which more than 
 one queen has suffered the penalty of death." 
 
 " Upon what proofs, pray, am I accused of such crimes, 
 my Lord ? Pardon my persistence, I beg, but I have 
 so much at stake that I may fairly be permitted to ask 
 the question." 
 
 " There is but one, Madame, I admit," replied Ruth- 
 ven, " but that is unequivocal ; it is the hasty marriage 
 of the victim's widow with the principal assassin, and the 
 letters handed us by James Balfour, which established 
 the fact that the culprits had joined their adulterous 
 hearts before it was possible for them to join their blood- 
 stained hands." 
 
 "My Lord," cried the Queen, "do you forget a 
 certain banquet at a tavern in London, given by this 
 same Both well to the same nobles who accuse him to-day 
 of adultery and murder ; do you forget that at the close 
 of that banquet, and upon the very table whereon it 
 had been spread, a document was signed, urging this 
 same woman, to whom you now impute as a crime the 
 rapidity with which she contracted her latest marriage 
 urging her, I say, to lay aside her widow's weeds for the
 
 122 MARY STUART. 
 
 bridal veil? For if you have forgotten, my Lords, 
 which would be as little creditable to your temperate 
 habits as to your memory, I will undertake to place that 
 paper before your eyes, for I have preserved it, and it 
 may be that we shall find among the signatures the 
 names of Lindsay of the Byres and Ruthven. O noble 
 Lord Herries ! " cried Mary, " O loyal James Melville ! 
 You alone were right when you threw yourselves at my 
 feet, entreating me not to contract that marriage, which, 
 as I can plainly see to-day, was naught but a trap set 
 for an ignorant woman by perfidious advisers or disloyal 
 nobles." 
 
 "Madame," exclaimed Ruthven, beginning to lose 
 control of himself, notwithstanding his cold impassibility, 
 while Lindsay was giving more noisy and less equivocal 
 symptoms of impatience, " Madame, all this discussion 
 leads us away from our real object ; let us recur to it, I 
 beg you, and do you tell us whether, your life and honor 
 being assured, you will consent to abdicate the throne of 
 Scotland?" 
 
 " What pledge shall I have that the promises herein 
 made to me will be kept ? " 
 
 " Our word, Madame," Ruthven proudly replied. 
 
 " Your word, my Lord ; that is but a feeble guaranty 
 to offer, when you forget your signature so quickly ; 
 have you no trifle to add to it which might give me 
 more confidence than I should feel with it alone ? " 
 
 " Enough, Ruthven, enough ! " cried Lindsay, " see 
 you not that the woman has responded to our proposals 
 only by insults for an hour past ? " 
 
 " Yes, let us go," said Ruthven, " and blame no one 
 but yourself for it, Madame, on the day when the cord 
 breaks which holds the sword suspended over your 
 head."
 
 MARY STUART. 123 
 
 " My Lords," cried Melville, " my Lords, in heaven's 
 name, have patience, and make some allowance for one 
 who is accustomed to command, but is to-day forced to 
 obey." 
 
 " In God's name, then, remain with her," said Lind- 
 say, turning away, " and try to obtain with your honeyed 
 words what she refuses to our frank and outspoken de- 
 mand. In a quarter of an hour we will return ; in a 
 quarter of an hour let the reply be ready ! " 
 
 The two noblemen went out, leaving Melville alone 
 with the Queen ; and their steps could be counted by 
 the clanking of Lindsay's huge sword on each stair of 
 the staircase. 
 
 The moment they were alone Melville threw himself 
 at the Queen's feet. 
 
 " Madame, " said he, " you said but now that Lord 
 Herries and my brother gave your Majesty certain ad- 
 vice which you regretted not having followed ; reflect 
 well, Madame, upon the counsel I will give you now, for 
 it is of greater importance than the other and your re- 
 gret will be far more bitter if you fail to folio* ' it. Ah ! 
 you know not what may happen, you know not of what 
 your brother is capable." 
 
 " It seems to me that he has given me to-day sufficient 
 evidence of his powers ; what can he do more than he 
 has already done ? A public trial ! oh ! I ask nothing 
 better; let them but leave me free to plead my own 
 cause, and we shall see what judges will dare condemn 
 me?" 
 
 " For that reason they will be very careful to do noth- 
 ing of the kind, Madame ; indeed they must needs be 
 mad to think of it when they have you safe in this 
 isolated castle, guarded by your enemies, with no witness 
 but God, who avenges crime but does not warn the
 
 124 MARY STUART. 
 
 victim. Remember, Madame, what Machiavelli says : 'A 
 king's tomb is never far distant from his prison.' You 
 come of a family whose members die young, and almost 
 invariably a violent death; two of your ancestors 
 perished by the sword, and one by poison." 
 
 " Oh ! if death were swift and painless," cried Mary, 
 " I would welcome it as an expiation of my faults ; for 
 proud though I be at times, I am humble when I search 
 my conscience, Melville ; I am unjustly accused of being 
 concerned in the death of Darnley, but I am justly 
 censured for marrying Bothwell." 
 
 " Time flies, Madame ! time flies," exclaimed Melville, 
 glancing at the hour-glass on the table. " They will 
 return, in a moment they will be here, and this time you 
 needs must give them an answer. Listen, Madame, and 
 make the best that can be made of your plight. You 
 are here with a single female attendant, without friends 
 or protectors or influence ; an abdication signed under 
 such circumstances will never seem to your subjects to 
 have been executed of your free will, but will always 
 be considered to have been torn from you by force, and 
 if necessary, Madame, when the day comes to enforce 
 your protest, then you will have two witnesses to the 
 duress under which you acted : Mary Seaton will be one, 
 and the other," he added, in an undertone, looking un- 
 easily around, " will be Robert Melville." 
 
 The words were hardly out of his mouth when the 
 steps of the two noblemen were heard on the stairs, re- 
 turning before the allotted time had elapsed. A moment 
 later the door opened, and Ruthven appeared ; Lind- 
 say's head could be seen over his shoulder. 
 
 " Well, Madame, we have returned ; has your Grace 
 made up your mind? We have come to receive your 
 reply"
 
 MARY STUABT. 125 
 
 " Yes," said Lindsay, pushing by Ruthven, and ap- 
 proaching the table, " yes, we require a clear, precise, 
 definite reply, without mental reservations." 
 
 " You are exacting, my Lord," said the Queen. "You 
 would hardly have the right to expect so much at my 
 hands, if I were on the other side of the lake, with my 
 freedom, and surrounded by a trusty escort ; but within 
 these walls, behind these bars, in the heart of this dark- 
 some fortress, though I might say that I sign voluntarily, 
 you would not believe me. But what matters it, you 
 desire my signature, and I will give it you. Melville, 
 pass me the pen." 
 
 " I hope, however," said Lord Ruthven, " that your 
 Grace does not contemplate entering a protest at some 
 future day against your present action, based upon the 
 position you now occupy." 
 
 The Queen had already leaned over to write her 
 name, her hand was already on the paper, when Lord 
 Ruthven spoke. But the words were no sooner out of 
 his mouth, than she rose haughtily to her feet, and let 
 the pen fall from her hand. 
 
 " My Lord," she said, " a moment since your demand 
 was for an abdication pure and simple, and I was on the 
 point of signing it. But if to that abdication a post- 
 scriptum is to be added to the effect that I renounce my 
 rights to the throne of Scotland, of my own motion, and 
 as if I deemed myself unfit to sit thereon, why that I 
 will never sign for the three crowns which have been 
 stolen from me one after another." 
 
 " Beware, Madame ! " shouted Lindsay, seizing the 
 Queen's wrist in his iron gauntlet, and pressing it with 
 all the strength of his wrath, " beware, for our patience 
 is at an end, and we may well end by breaking what 
 will not bend."
 
 126 MARY STUART. 
 
 The Queen remained standing, and although a hot 
 flush passed like a flame over her face, she said not a 
 word, and made no movement, but her eyes rested with an 
 expression of such utter contempt upon those of the brutal 
 earl, that he blushed with shame for the lengths to which 
 his passion had carried him, and fell back a step, releasing 
 the Queen's hand. She raised her sleeve, and showed 
 the bright purple marks of Lord Lindsay's iron gauntlet. 
 
 " I expected no less, my Lords," she said to the am- 
 bassadors, " and there is no further obstacle to my sign- 
 ing ; yes, I freely abdicate the throne and crown of 
 Scotland, and there is the proof that my will is not 
 forced." 
 
 With these words she seized the pen, and hastily 
 signed both documents, handed them to Lord Ruthven, 
 and with a dignified salute walked slowly to her bed- 
 room, accompanied by Mary Seaton. 
 
 Ruthven followed her with his eyes, and when she had 
 disappeared : 
 
 " It matters not," he said, " she has signed, and al- 
 though the method of persuasion you adopted, Lindsay, 
 is somewhat unusual in diplomacy, it is none the less 
 efficacious, apparently." 
 
 " Joke not, Ruthven," said Lindsay ; " she is a noble 
 creature, and had I dared, I would have fallen at her 
 feet to crave her pardon." 
 
 " There is still time," sneered Ruthven, " and Mary, 
 in the present plight, will not frown upon your petition. 
 Perhaps she has resolved to appeal to the judgment of 
 God to prove her innocence, and in that case such a 
 champion as you might well put a different face on 
 affairs." 
 
 " Joke not, I say, Ruthven," said Lindsay a second 
 time, more emphatically than before ; " if I were as well
 
 MARY STUART 
 
 Mary Stuart, at Lochleven Castle, forced to 
 sign her abdication.
 
 MARY 8TUABT. 127 
 
 convinced of her innocence as I am of her guilt, I prom- 
 ise you that no one should harm a hair of her head, not 
 even the Regent himself." 
 
 " The devil ! my Lord," said Ruthven, " I had not 
 thought you so accessible to a soft voice and tearful eye. 
 You know the story of Achilles' lance, which cured with 
 its rust the wounds it made with its point ; do like it, my 
 Lord, do like it." 
 
 " Enough, Ruthven, enough ! " Lindsay rejoined ; 
 " you are like a cuirass of Milan steel, which shines 
 thrice as brightly as a suit of armor of Glasgow iron, 
 but is also twice as hard. We know each other, Ruth- 
 ven, so a truce to raillery. Enough, I say, enough." 
 
 With that Lord Lindsay strode from the room, fol- 
 lowed by Ruthven and Melville, the first with head 
 erect and an air of assumed indifference, and the other 
 with sad face and drooping head, not even trying to con- 
 ceal the painful impression made upon him by the scene 
 just enacted. 
 
 The Queen did not leave her room until evening, when 
 she resumed her place at the window looking upon the 
 lake ; at the usual hour she saw the light, which was 
 thenceforth her only source of comfort and hope, twinkle 
 brightly in the little house at Kinross. For a whole long 
 month she had no other consolation than to see it shining 
 there, fixed and faithful, night after night. 
 
 At last, after a month had passed by, and just as she 
 was beginning to despair of ever seeing George Douglas 
 again, one morning, when she opened her window, she 
 uttered a cry of delight. Mary Seaton ran to her side, 
 and the Queen, lacking the strength to utter a word, 
 pointed to the little skiff at anchor in the middle of the 
 lake ; in the skiff were Little Douglas and George, en- 
 grossed in their favorite amusement of fishing. The
 
 128 MARY STUART. 
 
 young man had arrived the night before, but, as every- 
 one was accustomed to his unannounced returns, the 
 sentinel did not even blow the horn, so that the Queen 
 had no notice that at last she had a friend within call 
 once more. 
 
 However, three more days passed before she saw this 
 friend, except, as at first, upon the lake. To be sure, 
 George never, from morning till night, left the spot 
 whence he could see the Queen's windows, and at times 
 the Queen herself, when she pressed her face against the 
 bars in order to obtain a more extended view. 
 
 At last, on the morning of the fourth day, she was 
 awakened by a great barking of dogs and blowing of 
 horns. She at once ran to the window (for the most 
 trivial occurrences interest a prisoner) and saw William 
 Douglas in the act of embarking with huntsmen and a 
 whole pack of hounds. He had laid aside for a day his 
 duties as gaoler to enjoy a sport more in accord with his 
 rank and birth, and was starting on a hunting excursion 
 among the woods which cover the lower ridges of Ben 
 Lomond, and extend to the banks of the lake. 
 
 The Queen trembled with pleasure, for she hoped 
 that Lady Lochleven would retain her spite, and that 
 George would take his brother's place. Her hope was 
 not disappointed ; at the usual hour, the Queen heard 
 the steps approaching of them who were bringing her 
 breakfast ; the door opened, and she saw George Douglas 
 come in, preceding the servants with the dishes. He 
 barely acknowledged her presence, but he had warned 
 her to be surprised at nothing, so she returned his dis- 
 tant salutation with a disdainful smile. But when the 
 servants had discharged their duties and left the room, 
 as usual, she exclaimed : 
 
 " At last you have returned ! "
 
 MARY STUART. 129 
 
 George put his finger to his lips and walked softly to 
 the door to see that the servants had really withdrawn, 
 and that no one of them had stayed behind to spy upon 
 them. Having satisfied himself upon that point, he 
 returned more at ease in his mind, and said, with a bow 
 of deep respect : 
 
 " Yes, Madame, and I am the bearer of good news, 
 thank heaven ! " 
 
 " Oh ! tell it me quickly ! " cried the Queen, " for our 
 life in this castle is a hell on earth. You know that 
 they came hither, do you not, and that they forced me 
 to sign an abdication ? " 
 
 " Yes, Madame," Douglas replied ; " but we also know 
 that your signature was obtained by violence alone, and 
 our devotion to your Majesty has become more absolute, 
 if that be possible." 
 
 " But tell me, pray, what you have done ? " 
 
 "The Seatons and Hamiltons, who are, as your 
 Majesty is well aware, your most faithful adherents," 
 here Mary turned with an affectionate smile to her 
 attendant and gave her her hand "have already 
 mustered their troops, who are ready to move at the first 
 signal. But, as their forces alone are not sufficiently 
 numerous to take the field, we shall steer a straight 
 course for Dunbarton, where the Governor is with us ; 
 the situation of that place and its strength will enable 
 us to hold it against the Regent's troops for a sufficient 
 time to enable the hearts which remain faithful to you to 
 join us there." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the Queen, " I have no fear as to 
 what we shall do when we shall have left this place 
 behind, but how are we to make an escape from here ? " 
 
 " The solution of that question, Madame, will make 
 it necessary for your Majesty to summon all the courage 
 
 Vol. IV. 9.
 
 130 MARY STUART. 
 
 of which you have given such frequent and convincing 
 evidence." 
 
 " If I need naught but courage and self-possession," 
 said the Queen, " have no fear, for neither the one nor 
 the other will fail me." 
 
 " Here is a file," said George, handing the tool to 
 Mary Seaton as if he thought it unworthy to touch the 
 Queen's hands ; " this evening I will bring your Majesty 
 cords with which to make a ladder. You must cut 
 through one of the bars of your window, which is but 
 twenty feet from the ground. I will mount the ladder 
 to the window to test its strength as well as to help you 
 to descend ; one of the garrison is in my pay, he will 
 give us egress through the gate at which he is on guard, 
 and you will be free." 
 
 " When will it be? " cried the Queen. 
 
 "We must needs wait for two things, Madame," 
 replied Douglas ; " first, until we have assembled at 
 Kinross an escort of sufficient size to ensure your 
 Majesty's safety ; secondly, until it is Thomas Warden's 
 turn to stand guard at an isolated gate which we can 
 reach without being seen." 
 
 " How shall you know when that time comes ? shall 
 you remain at the castle ? " 
 
 " Alas ! no, Madame ; at the castle I am a useless, 
 perhaps a dangerous, friend ; while on yonder shore I 
 can serve you to good purpose." 
 
 " But how will you know when Warden's turn of duty 
 arrives ? " 
 
 " The weathercock on the northern tower, instead of 
 turning with the wind like the others, will remain 
 stationary." 
 
 " But how am I to know ? " 
 
 " Everything is provided for in that regard also ; the
 
 MARY STUART. 131 
 
 light which shines every night in the little house at 
 Kinross tells you that your friends are always on the 
 watch ; when you wish to know whether the hour of 
 your deliverance is drawing near or is still uncertain, do 
 you place a light in this window ; the other will immed- 
 iately disappear. Then place your hand against your 
 breast and count your heart-beats ; if you count twenty 
 before the light appears again, you will know that noth- 
 ing is decided ; if you count only to ten, it means that 
 the time is near at hand ; if you have not time to count 
 beyond five, your escape is appointed for the evening of 
 the next day ; if the light does not reappear at all, it is 
 appointed for that same night. In the latter event, the 
 hoot of an owl thrice repeated in the courtyard will be 
 the signal ; when you hear it, drop the ladder." 
 
 "Oh! Douglas," cried the Queen, "none but you 
 could thus have foreseen and provided for everything. 
 Thanks, a thousand times, thanks ! " and she gave him 
 her hand to kiss. 
 
 A vivid flush overspread the young man's cheeks, but 
 with an effort he mastered his emotion, and sternly 
 repressed the impulse to give expression to the passion 
 of which he had spoken to the Queen a single time, 
 when he promised her never to speak of it again. He 
 knelt on one knee, took the hand which Mary offered 
 him and kissed it with such profound respect that no 
 one could have seen in the action anything more than 
 the homage of devotion and fidelity. He then saluted 
 the Queen and left the room, lest a more protracted stay 
 might arouse suspicion. 
 
 At dinner time he brought a package of cord, as he 
 promised. It was not long enough, but when night 
 came Mary Seaton was to let one end hang down from 
 the window and George would attach a sufficient
 
 132 MARY STUART. 
 
 additional quantity. This plan was carried out as ar- 
 ranged, and without accident, an hour after the hunters 
 returned. 
 
 The next day George left the castle again. 
 
 The Queen and Mary Seaton lost no time in setting 
 to work at their rope ladder, and in three days it was 
 finished. The following evening the Queen, in her im- 
 patience, and rather to make sure of the vigilance of 
 her adherents than with any hope that the time for her 
 deliverance was at hand, placed the lamp in the win- 
 dow ; instantly, as Douglas had said, the light in the 
 house at Kinross disappeared. Thereupon the Queen 
 put her hand to her heart, and counted twenty-two 
 before the light reappeared ; this signified that nothing 
 was definitely decided on as yet. 
 
 For a week the Queen continued in this way to ques- 
 tion the light and her heart-beats, without any change 
 in the reply. On the ninth evening she counted ten 
 only ; at the eleventh the light appeared again. 
 
 The Queen thought that she was mistaken ; she dared 
 not believe that she had read the meaning of the signal 
 aright, so she removed the lamp, and a short time after 
 placed it in the window again. Her unknown corre- 
 spondent at once understood that she desired a repetition 
 of his reply ; the light in the little house disappeared 
 once more ; once more Mary questioned her heart, and 
 rapidly as it leaped, the star of promise twinkled again on 
 the horizon before the twelfth beat ; there was no further 
 room for doubt, everything was arranged. Mary could 
 not close her eyes that night ; the patient persistence of 
 her devoted friends moved her to shed tears of grati- 
 tude. When the day broke, the Queen questioned her 
 companion again and again, to make sure that it was 
 not a dream. Every sound that she heard seemed to
 
 MARY STUART. 133 
 
 her to indicate that the scheme upon which her liberty 
 depended was discovered, and when William Douglas 
 entered her room as usual at breakfast time, she hardly 
 dared to look at him, for fear of reading upon his fea- 
 tures that all was lost. 
 
 In the evening the Queen again interrogated the light 
 with the same result ; nothing had changed ; the beacon 
 still bade her hope. 
 
 For five nights in succession it continued to indicate 
 that the time was near at hand ; on the sixth, the light 
 reappeared before the Queen had counted five pulsa- 
 tions. She leaned heavily upon her companion ; between 
 her excessive joy and her fear, she was near fainting. 
 Her escape was to be effected the next evening ! 
 
 The Queen repeated the signal, and received the same 
 reply, so that there could be no further doubt. Every- 
 thing was ready, except the prisoner's courage; that 
 failed her for an instant, and she would have fallen to 
 the floor, had Mary Seaton not guided her to a chair. 
 But after the first moment of agitation, she recovered 
 herself and became stronger and more resolute than 
 ever. 
 
 Until midnight she remained at the window with her 
 eyes fixed upon that blessed light ; at last Mary Seaton 
 induced her to retire, proposing, if she could not sleep, 
 to read aloud to her some of M. Ronsard's verses, or a 
 chapter from the Mer des Histoires. But Mary declined 
 to listen to any secular work at that solemn moment, 
 and asked her to read her hours, making the proper re- 
 sponses to the prayers, as if she were in attendance upon 
 a mass said by a Catholic priest. Towards daybreak she 
 dozed fitfully, and her faithful attendant, who was 
 dying with fatigue, at once fell asleep in her chair by 
 the Queen's pillow.
 
 134 MARY STUART. 
 
 In the morning she was awakened by a touch upon 
 her shoulder ; it was the Queen who had already risen. 
 
 " Come and look, little one," she said ; " come and see 
 what a lovely day God has given us. Oh ! how beauti- 
 ful is nature, and what bliss it will be to me to be free 
 once more among yonder plains and mountains ! Surely, 
 heaven is on our side." 
 
 " Madame," Mary replied, " I would much prefer to 
 see the weather less beautiful ; it would give promise of 
 a darker night ; and remember that we must pray for 
 darkness, not for light." 
 
 " Hearken," said the Queen ; " by that token we shall 
 see if God is really on our side ; if the weather remains 
 as it is, you are right, and He abandons us ; but if the 
 clouds gather ; why, then, little one, it will be, will it 
 not? proof positive of His protection." 
 
 Mary Seaton smiled and nodded in approbation of her 
 mistress' superstitious suggestion. The Queen, unable 
 to remain idle when her excitement was so great, occu- 
 pied herself putting together such jewels as she had 
 preserved, and placed them in a casket, and then laid 
 out a black dress for the evening, to assist the darkness 
 in concealing her flight. When these preparations 
 were concluded she resumed her seat at the window, 
 gazing incessantly across the lake at the house on 
 Kinross hill, which was as tightly closed and lifeless as 
 usual. 
 
 Her heart was so full that she welcomed William 
 Douglas, when he arrived with the breakfast, with more 
 amiability than usual, but it was only with great diffi- 
 culty that she kept her seat throughout the meal. She 
 succeeded in restraining herself, however, and Douglas 
 retired without giving any sign that he had noticed her 
 agitation.
 
 MARY 8TUABT. 135 
 
 Mary ran to the window again as soon as he left the 
 room ; she thirsted for the free air, and her eyes devoured 
 the vast landscape which lay spread out before them, 
 anticipating the moment when she should once more 
 tread the heather as free as the air itself. It seemed to 
 her that once her liberty was restored, she would never 
 more immure herself within palace walls, but would 
 spend her days roaming through the fields. But amidst 
 her exuberant delight, she was seized from time to time 
 with a strange sinking at the heart ; at such moments 
 she turned to Mary Seaton seeking new inspiration in 
 her strength, and the maiden spoke words of encourage- 
 ment, rather from a sense of duty than from conviction. 
 
 Interminable as the hours seemed to the Queen, they 
 passed, one by one; towards afternoon, a few light 
 clouds were floating across the sky, and the Queen joy- 
 fully pointed them out to her attendant. Mary Seaton 
 rejoiced at their appearance, not because of the imagi- 
 nary favorable augury which the Queen sought to draw 
 from them, but because it was of the utmost importance 
 that the sky should be overcast, so that their flight might 
 be made easier by the darkness. 
 
 The dinner hour arrived while the prisoners were fol- 
 lowing the course of the moving masses of vapor. A 
 half-hour of constraint and dissimulation ensued, which 
 was the more distressing because William Douglas, 
 doubtless to show his appreciation of the Queen's affa- 
 bility in the morning, felt called upon to indulge in 
 some formal complimentary remarks, which forced her 
 to take a more active part in the conversation than her 
 preoccupation was inclined to permit. However, Doug- 
 las seemed not to notice her persistent absence of mind, 
 and everything went off as at breakfast. 
 
 Once more the Queen hurried to the window as soon
 
 136 MARY STUART. 
 
 as he left the room ; the clouds which she had noticed 
 some time before had grown heavier, and increased in 
 extent, every particle of blue had disappeared and the 
 heavens were covered with a dull gray pall. The little 
 house at Kinross was still closed and seemed entirely 
 deserted. 
 
 Night came, and the light shone as usual ; the Queen 
 made the customary signal, the light disappeared, and 
 she waited in vain for it to reappear : the attempt was 
 surely to be made that evening. 
 
 She heard eight o'clock strike, and nine, and ten. At 
 the latter hour the sentinels were relieved, and she heard 
 the steps of the patrol pass under her window and die 
 away in the distance ; then all was silent once more, and 
 so another half-hour passed. Suddenly an owl hooted 
 three times ; it was the signal agreed upon with Douglas 
 the supreme moment had arrived. 
 
 In such an emergency as this the Queen was certain 
 to display all her force of character ; she motioned to 
 Mary Seaton to take away the bar and attach the rope 
 ladder, while she extinguished the light and went to her 
 bedroom to grope for the casket containing her jewels. 
 When she returned George Douglas was already in the 
 room. 
 
 "All goes well, Madame," he said; "your friends 
 await you on the other side of the lake, Thomas Warden 
 is on duty at the postern, and God has blessed us with a 
 dark night." 
 
 The Queen gave him her hand without speaking; 
 George bent his knee and put her hand to his lips ; it 
 was trembling and as cold as ice. 
 
 " In heaven's name, Madame," he said, " summon all 
 your courage and do not give way at such a time as 
 this."
 
 MARY STUART. 137 
 
 " Our Lady of Succor, be thou our helper," Mary 
 murmured. 
 
 " Call rather upon the spirit of your royal ancestors," 
 said George, " for what you need at this hour is not the 
 resignation of a Christian, but the courage and resolu- 
 tion of a Queen." 
 
 " Oh, Douglas ! Douglas ! " cried Mary piteously, " a 
 soothsayer prophesied that I should die in prison and by 
 violence ; has not the hour arrived when his prophecy is 
 to be fulfilled ? " 
 
 " It may be so," said George, " but how much better 
 to die as a Queen should die than to live in this old 
 castle, deprived of liberty and foully traduced." 
 
 "You are right, George," said the Queen, "but 
 woman is a creature of impulse ; forgive me. Let us 
 go ; I am ready," she added after a moment's pause. 
 
 George went at once to the window, made sure that 
 the ladder was firmly attached, and then stepped out 
 upon it, grasping the bar with one hand and holding out 
 the other to the Queen. She stepped upon a stool, as 
 brave and determined as she was timid a moment before, 
 and had one foot upon the window sill, when suddenly 
 the cry Qui vive ! was raised at the foot of the tower. 
 The Queen instinctively drew back into the room, 
 assisted by a sharp push from George, who leaned far 
 out himself to see who uttered the challenge, which was 
 twice repeated, and meeting with no response was im- 
 mediately followed by the flash and report of a firearm. 
 At the same instant the sentinel posted on the tower 
 blew his horn, and another rang a mad peal on the alarm 
 bell, while shouts of " To arms ! to arms ! " and " Treason ! 
 treason ! " echoed through the castle. 
 
 " Yes, treason, treason ! " cried Douglas, leaping back 
 into the room. " Yes, the villain Warden has betrayed us."
 
 138 MARY STUART. 
 
 He rushed up to Mary, who was standing as cold and 
 motionless as a statue. 
 
 " Courage, Madame, courage ! " he said ; " whatever 
 happens, remember that you have one friend in the 
 castle, Little William Douglas." 
 
 The words were hardly out of his mouth when the 
 door opened, and William Douglas and Lady Lochleven 
 appeared on the threshold, preceded by armed soldiers 
 and servants with torches. The room was at once filled 
 with people and with light. 
 
 " Do you believe me now, mother ? " said Douglas, 
 pointing to his brother, who stood in front of Mary 
 Stuart, shielding her with his body. " Look ! " 
 
 For a moment the old lady tried in vain to speak, but 
 at last words came to her. 
 
 " Speak, George Douglas," she cried, stepping forward, 
 "speak, and clear yourself from the charge which 
 impugns your honor ; say but these words : * A Douglas 
 has never betrayed his trust,' and I will believe you." 
 
 " A Douglas, I grant you, mother," William inter- 
 posed ; " but he is no Douglas ! " 
 
 " May God grant my gray hairs the strength to en- 
 dure such disgrace on the part of one of my sons, and 
 such an insult from the other ! O woman, born under 
 a baleful star," she continued, addressing the Queen, 
 " when will you cease to be a tool in the hands of the 
 devil of destruction and death to all who approach you ? 
 O ancient castle of Lochleven, cursed be the hour when 
 this enchantress crossed thy threshold ! " 
 
 " Say not so, my mother, say not so," cried George ; 
 " say rather, blessed be the moment which proves that 
 though there be Douglases who have ceased to remem- 
 ber what they owe to their sovereign, there are others 
 who have never forgotten it."
 
 MARY STUART. 139 
 
 " Douglas ! Douglas ! " murmured the Queen, " did I 
 not tell thee?" 
 
 " And what was my reply, Madame ? that it is the 
 duty and the glory of every faithful subject of your 
 Majesty to die for you." 
 
 "Then die," cried his brother, rushing upon his 
 brother with uplifted sword ; George leaped back, drew 
 his own weapon, and, with a movement swift as thought 
 and instinct with hate, stood on the defensive. But 
 Mary Stuart instantly threw herself between them. 
 
 " Not one step farther," she said to the elder brother ; 
 " put back your sword in its scabbard, George," she 
 added, " or make use of it to make your escape from 
 this place against any but your brother. I still have 
 need of your life, so look well to it." 
 
 " My life is at your service, Madame, as are my arm 
 and my honor, and since you so command, I will pre- 
 serve it for you." 
 
 With that he darted to the door with a resolute bear- 
 ing which forbade any interference with his motions. 
 
 " Back ! " he cried to the servants who barred his 
 passage ; " room for the young Lord of Douglas, or your 
 blood will be on your own heads ! " 
 
 "Stop him!" cried William; "seize him, dead or 
 alive ! fire on him ! shoot him like a dog ! " 
 
 Two or three of the soldiers, afraid to disobey, made 
 a pretense of pursuing George. A shot or two was 
 heard without the castle and a voice cried out that he 
 had jumped into the lake. 
 
 " Has he escaped ? " cried William. 
 
 Mary breathed freely once more, and the old lady 
 raised her arms appealingly to heaven. 
 
 " Yes, yes," William muttered ; " yes, thank heaven 
 for your son's flight, for it brings lasting disgrace upon
 
 140 MA.RY STUART. 
 
 our whole family ; from this hour we shall all be looked 
 upon as accessories to his treason." 
 
 " Have pity on me, William," cried Lady Lochleven, 
 wringing her hands, " in heaven's name have pity on 
 your mother's gray hairs! can you not see that I am 
 dying?" 
 
 Even as she spoke every vestige of color left her 
 cheeks, and she tottered and fell into the arms of the 
 steward and one of the servants. 
 
 " Methinks, my Lord," said Mary Seaton, " that your 
 mother needs attention and the Queen needs rest ; do 
 you not think that it is full time for you to withdraw ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " William retorted, " to give you time to 
 spin new webs and to see what new flies you can entice 
 into them. Very well, do your worst ; but you will find 
 that it is no simple task to deceive William Douglas. 
 Play your game and I will play mine. Leave the room," 
 he added, turning to the servants, " and do you, mother, 
 come with me." 
 
 The servants and soldiers obeyed, and Douglas went 
 out last, supporting Lady Lochleven. The Queen heard 
 the grinding of the lock as the door closed behind 
 them. 
 
 As soon as Mary was alone and certain that she could 
 neither be seen nor heard, all her courage left her ; she 
 threw herself into a chair and sobbed as if her heart 
 would break. 
 
 Indeed, she had needed all the strength she could 
 muster to carry her through the ordeal, and naught but 
 the presence of her enemies had made it possible for 
 her. As soon as she was relieved of their presence, the 
 horror of her situation impressed itself upon her mind 
 to the exclusion of every other thought. Dethroned 
 and a captive in that impregnable fortress, with no friend
 
 MARY STUART. 141 
 
 save a mere child, whom she had hardly noticed, but 
 who was the last and only connecting link between her 
 past hope and her hopes for the future, what remained 
 to Queen Mary Stuart of her two thrones and her two- 
 fold power ? Her name, nothing more ; her name, with 
 which, were she at liberty, she might, doubtless, have 
 shaken Scotland to its foundations, but which would 
 gradually fade from the hearts of her partisans and 
 would perhaps, even during her lifetime, be enveloped 
 in oblivion, as in a shroud. Such a thought was unen- 
 durable to so proud a nature as Mary Stuart's, and to a 
 physical organization which, like that of a flower, 
 needed abundance of light and air and sunshine. 
 
 Happily that one of the four Marys whom she loved 
 the best was still with her, and she, with never-failing 
 tact and affection, hastened to comfort and encourage 
 her. But it was no easy task at this time, and the 
 Queen replied only with sobs and tears to her loving 
 attentions and hopeful words. But suddenly she hap- 
 pened to glance through the window near which she had 
 moved her mistress' chair. 
 
 " The light, Madame ! " she cried ; " the light ! " 
 
 As she spoke she raised the Queen in her arms and 
 pointed to the beacon, the never-failing emblem of hope, 
 which shone through the darkness from the little house 
 on the hill at Kinross. There was no possibility of 
 mistake ; not a star was to be seen. 
 
 " To Thee, O Lord, I render thanks," said the Queen, 
 falling on her knees and raising her clasped hands to 
 heaven in deep gratitude ; " Douglas is safe and my 
 friends are still watching." 
 
 After a fervent prayer, which restored her strength in 
 some measure, she returned to her bedroom, and, worn 
 out by the diverse emotions which had succeeded each
 
 142 MARY STUART. 
 
 other so rapidly, fell into a restless, disturbed slumber, 
 while the indefatigable Mary Seaton watched by her 
 pillow until daylight. 
 
 As William Douglas had implied the Queen was un- 
 deniably a prisoner from that day forth, and she was not 
 allowed to walk in the garden except under surveillance 
 by two soldiers. The constraint of this arrangement 
 was so irksome to her that she preferred to abandon that 
 source of distraction, which, under such circumstances, 
 became downright torture. So she shut herself up in 
 her apartments, experiencing a certain proud and bitter 
 enjoyment in the very extent of her misery. 
 
 A week after the events we have described, as nine 
 o'clock in the evening was striking on the castle bell, 
 and the Queen and Mary Seaton were sitting at a table, 
 engaged in needle-work, a stone was thrown from the 
 courtyard between the bars of the window, breaking a 
 pane of glass, and fell on the floor of the room. The 
 Queen's first thought was that it was an accident or an 
 insult ; but Mary Seaton, upon looking at the stone, saw 
 that a paper was wrapped about it, and she at once 
 picked it up. The paper proved to be a letter from 
 George Douglas, in these words : 
 
 " You ordered me to live, Madame, and I obeyed ; 
 your Majesty has seen, by the light at Kinross, that 
 your devoted servants are still watching over you. The 
 soldiers, however, who were assembled to assist your 
 escape on that fatal night, dispersed at daybreak to 
 avoid arousing suspicion, and will not reassemble until 
 another attempt makes their presence necessary. But 
 alas! it would be fatal to you to make the attempt 
 at this moment, when your Majesty's keepers are on 
 their guard. Let them take what precautions they 
 will, Madame ; let them fall asleep in their fancied
 
 MABY STUART. 143 
 
 security, while we, in our devotion are ever watching. 
 Patience and courage ! " 
 
 " Brave and loyal heart ! " cried Mary, " more stead- 
 fast in his devotion in our adversity than others in our 
 most prosperous days ! Yes, I will have patience and 
 courage, and so long as that light continues to shine I 
 will continue to hope for liberty." 
 
 This letter restored all of the Queen's former courage. 
 She had in Little Douglas a medium of communication 
 with George, for the stone could have been thrown by 
 no one but him. She lost no time in writing George a 
 letter wherein she bade him convey her gratitude to all 
 the nobles who signed the protest, and beg them, in the 
 name of the faith they had sworn to her, not to let their 
 ardor in her cause grow cool, promising on her own part 
 to await the result with the patience and courage which 
 they enjoined upon her. 
 
 She was not mistaken as to Little Douglas ; the next 
 morning, as she was sitting at her window, he came to 
 the foot of the tower, and, without looking up, set to 
 work directly beneath her fashioning a gin to snare 
 birds. The Queen looked to see if she was observed, 
 and having made sure that that part of the court was 
 deserted let the stone fall with the letter wrapped around 
 it. At first she feared that she had made a serious mis- 
 take, for the child did not even turn at the sound ; and 
 not until a moment or two thereafter, the Queen, mean- 
 while, suffering tortures of anxiety, did he put his hand 
 on the stone, with perfect coolness of manner, and as if 
 he were seeking something else. He put it in his pocket 
 in a leisurely way, without raising his head, or making 
 any sign of intelligence, and finished the task he had 
 begun with the utmost sang-froid, indicating by that 
 alone how great confidence might be placed in him.
 
 144 MARY STUART. 
 
 That incident caused hope to spring anew in the 
 Queen's breast ; but days and weeks and months rolled 
 on and brought no change in the situation. Winter 
 arrived ; the prisoner saw the snow spread its mantle of 
 white over the plains and mountains, and, if she could 
 but have passed the gate, the frozen lake offered her a 
 solid pathway to the shore. In all that time no letter 
 brought her the comforting intelligence that her deliver- 
 ance still engrossed their thoughts, but every evening 
 the light announced that some friend was watching. 
 
 In due time nature awoke from her deathlike sleep, 
 and now and then a stray sunbeam pierced the murky 
 clouds which overhang Scotland from the beginning to 
 the end of winter. The snow melted, the icy crust on 
 the lake disappeared, the trees put forth their buds, and 
 woods and fields were green and beautiful once more. 
 Everything, animate and inanimate, came forth from 
 its prison at the glad approach of spring. It was a 
 bitter sorrow for Mary that for her alone winter was 
 never-ending. 
 
 One evening she fancied that the movements of the 
 light indicated that something new was toward. She 
 had so often questioned the faint, twinkling star, and 
 had so often counted more than twenty heart-beats, that 
 for a long time, to avoid the agony of disappointment, 
 she had not made the signal. She determined, however, 
 to make one more trial, and almost hopelessly she placed 
 the light in the window. The other light instantly dis- 
 appeared, and was replaced as her heart beat for the 
 eleventh time. At the same moment, by a strange coin- 
 cidence, a stone flew threw the window, and fell at Mary 
 Seaton's feet. It was, like the first, wrapped in a letter 
 from George, which the Queen took from her compan- 
 ion's hands and read : " The moment is at hand," so ran
 
 MARY STUART. 145 
 
 the letter, "your friends are assembled; summon all 
 your courage. To-morrow, at eleven o'clock, drop a 
 cord from your window, and draw up the package which 
 will be attached to it." 
 
 Several pieces of cord left over after making the lad- 
 der which the guards carried away on the evening of the 
 abortive attempt at escape were still in the Queen's room. 
 The next evening, at the hour named in the letter, the 
 prisoners removed the lamp to the bedroom, so that 
 their movements might not be detected by its light, and 
 Mary Seaton dropped the cord from the window. A 
 moment later she could feel that something was being 
 attached to it. She drew it up, and found that the 
 package was too large to be taken through the bars. 
 The Queen came to her assistance, and they untied the 
 package, and found that the articles it contained would 
 easily come through, one by one. They took them all 
 into the bedroom, and having locked themselves in 
 began their inventory. The contents of the package 
 proved to be two complete suits of the Douglas livery. 
 The Queen could make nothing of it at first, but finally 
 she discovered a letter fastened to the collar of one of 
 the doublets. In her eagerness to learn the answer to 
 the enigma, she tore it open, and read as follows : 
 
 " Sheer audacity alone will enable your Majesty to 
 regain your liberty ; we therefore pray your Majesty to 
 read this letter, and if you deign to adopt the suggest- 
 ions contained therein, to follow them minutely. 
 
 " The keys of the castle never leave the old steward's 
 belt during the day ; when the curfew has rung, and he 
 has made his last round to make sure that all the doors 
 and gates are secured, he hands them to William Doug- 
 las, who attaches them to his sword belt if he passes the 
 night on guard, and puts them under his pillow if he 
 vol. rv. 10.
 
 146 MARY STUART. 
 
 retires. For five months past, Little Douglas, who is 
 allowed to work at the armorer's forge in the castle with- 
 out remark, has been occupied in fashioning a set of 
 keys, sufficiently like the genuine ones to deceive Wil- 
 liam if the substitution can once be effected. Yesterday 
 he finished the last one. 
 
 "At the first favorable opportunity and your Majesty 
 will know when it has occurred by questioning the light 
 every evening without fail Little Douglas will substi- 
 tute the false keys for the genuine ones, will enter your 
 Majesty's chamber, where he will find you and Miss 
 Seaton dressed in your male costumes, and will guide 
 you, by the road which seems to present the best chance 
 of escape out of the castle to the lake, where a boat will 
 await you. 
 
 " Until that time, your Majesty and Miss Seaton must 
 wear these male costumes every evening from nine 
 o'clock till midnight, as well to accustom yourselves to 
 them, as to give them the appearance of having been 
 worn. It is possible, too, that your young guide may 
 come for you unexpectedly, having had no opportunity 
 to notify you ; and it is of course of the utmost import- 
 ance that he should find you ready. 
 
 " The clothes should be nearly a perfect fit for your 
 Majesty and your attendant, as Miss Mary Fleming and 
 Miss Mary Livingston, who are of much the same figure, 
 were measured for them. 
 
 " We cannot impress too strongly upon your Majesty 
 the necessity of calling to your aid, at this supreme crisis, 
 the marvelous courage and presence of mind which you 
 have displayed so frequently at other moments of su- 
 preme importance." 
 
 The prisoners were dumfounded at the boldness of the 
 plan ; and at first they gazed at each other in consterna-
 
 MARY STUART. 147 
 
 tion, for it seemed to them that success was out of the 
 question. Nevertheless, they tried on their disguises, 
 and, as George had prophesied, both of them were fitted 
 as well as if the garments had been made for them. 
 
 Every evening the Queen obeyed the injunctions of 
 the letter by questioning the light, and for a whole 
 tedious month she and Mary Seaton never failed to don 
 their male habits, although the light had no announce- 
 ment to make ; in this way they both became so accus- 
 tomed to them that they were as much at home in them 
 as in those more suited to their sex. 
 
 On the 2d of May, 1568, the Queen was awakened 
 by a blast on the horn ; being anxious to know what it 
 portended, she hastily donned a morning dress, and ran 
 to the window, where she was soon joined by Mary Sea- 
 ton. A considerable body of horsemen were standing 
 on the shore of the lake, displaying the Douglas banner, 
 and three boats were rowing ashore together to fetch them. 
 
 This occurrence was well calculated to alarm the 
 Queen ; the least change in the regular routine of the 
 castle was to be dreaded at the present juncture, for it 
 might overturn all their carefully-laid plans. Her ap- 
 prehension increased as the boats approached, and she 
 spied in the largest one Lord Douglas, the husband of 
 the Lady of Lochleven, and father of William and 
 George. The old nobleman, who was warden in the 
 marches in the north, had come to visit his old domain, 
 which he had not seen for three years. 
 
 It was a great event at Lochleven Castle. A few 
 moments after the arrival of the boats Mary heard the 
 step of the old steward on the staircase. He came to 
 inform the Queen of his master's arrival ; and as the 
 return of the lord of the castle was to be a holiday to 
 all its inhabitants, he solicited her presence at the
 
 148 MARY STUART. 
 
 dinner-party which was to form part of the celebration. 
 The Queen refused, perhaps because her instinct told 
 her to do so, perhaps because the invitation was repug- 
 nant to her. 
 
 All day long the bell and the horn were being 
 sounded. Lord Douglas, like a true feudal chieftain, 
 traveled with a princely retinue. New faces of soldiers 
 and servants were constantly passing back and forth 
 under the Queen's windows, footmen and grooms all 
 wearing a livery like that which the Queen and Mary 
 Seaton had received. 
 
 Mary waited with feverish impatience for the night 
 to come. The night before she had questioned the light, 
 and it had replied as usual, by reappearing at the 
 eleventh or twelfth heart-beat, that the moment was 
 near at hand; but she was terribly alarmed lest the 
 arrival of Lord Douglas had deranged their plans, so 
 that the light when next it appeared would announce a 
 postponement. And so, the instant it was lighted, she 
 placed her own in the window ; the other immediately 
 disappeared, and Mary, in an agony of suspense, began 
 to count. Her agitation increased tenfold when she had 
 counted beyond fifteen. She ceased to count then, and 
 stood in utter discouragement, gazing mechanically at 
 the spot where the light had been. What was her 
 amazement when it failed to reappear at all, and after 
 half an hour had elapsed, all was still dark ! She then 
 repeated the signal, but obtained no response ; the es- 
 cape was certainly to be attempted that very evening. 
 
 They had so little expectation of anything of the sort 
 for that evening, that they had neglected to dress them- 
 selves in their masculine costumes ; they rushed into 
 the Queen's bed-room, barricaded the door, and began 
 to change their clothes. Their hurried toilette was
 
 MARY STUART. 149 
 
 barely completed when they heard a key turn in the 
 lock, and they at once extinguished their lamp. Soft 
 steps approached; the two women leaned upon each 
 other, for they were both near fainting with excitement. 
 There was a gentle knocking at the door. The Queen 
 asked who was there, and the boy's voice replied with 
 the first lines of the old ballad : 
 
 Douglas, Douglas, 
 Tender and true. 
 
 She at once opened the door, for it was the counter- 
 sign agreed upon with George Douglas. 
 
 The boy had no light, but he put out his hand until 
 it touched the Queen's. By the faint light of the stare 
 she saw him kneel and felt his lips touch her fingers. 
 
 " Is your Majesty ready to follow me ? " he asked in a 
 whisper, as he stood erect once more. 
 
 " Yes, my child," the Queen replied ; "but is it to be 
 this evening? " 
 
 " With your Majesty's permission, yes." 
 
 " Everything is ready ? " 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 " What have we to do ? " 
 
 " Follow me wherever I go." 
 
 " O merciful God ! " cried Mary, " have pity upon 
 us!" 
 
 She repeated a short prayer beneath her breath, while 
 Mary Seaton procured the casket which contained her 
 jewels. 
 
 " Now I am ready," she said ; " and you, little one ? " 
 
 " I am ready also," replied her attendant. 
 
 " Come then," said Little Douglas. 
 
 The prisoners followed him, the Queen walking first. 
 Their youthful conductor carefully closed the door, so
 
 150 MARY STUART. 
 
 that any passing guard might notice nothing, and then 
 began to descend the spiral staircase. When they were 
 half-way down, they heard the echoes from the banquet 
 hall, a mixture of loud laughter, the confused hum of 
 voices and the clinking of glasses. The Queen laid her 
 hand upon her young guide's shoulder. 
 
 " Whither are you leading us ? " she asked in alarm. 
 
 " Out of the castle," he replied. 
 
 " But must we pass through the great hall ? " 
 
 " We must, indeed, and that was George's reason for 
 providing the liveries. Among the servants, all dressed 
 in the same livery, no one will recognize you." 
 
 " Oh ! my God ! my God ! " murmured the Queen, 
 leaning against the wall for support. 
 
 "Courage, Madame," whispered Mary Seaton in her 
 ear, " or we are lost." 
 
 " You say well," the Queen replied, " let us go on." 
 
 They continued down the stairs, still following their 
 guide. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs he stopped, and handed the 
 Queen an earthen jar filled with wine. 
 
 " Put this jar on your right shoulder, Madame," he 
 said ; " it will conceal your face from the guests, and if 
 you are carrying something your Majesty will be the less 
 likely to arouse suspicion. Do you, Miss Mary, give 
 me the casket, and put this basket of bread on your 
 head. There, that is well ; do you feel able to go on ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the Queen. 
 
 " Yes," said Mary Seaton. 
 
 " Follow me then." 
 
 A few steps farther on, they found themselves in a 
 sort of anteroom adjoining the large hall; there the 
 noise was very perceptible. Several servants were in 
 the apartment, occupied in various ways. Not one of
 
 MARY STUART. 151 
 
 them seemed to notice them and the Queen felt some- 
 what reassured. At all events it was too late to retreat 
 as Little Douglas was entering the banquet hall. 
 
 The guests, seated on both sides of a long table, 
 graded according to the rank of those who sat at it, had 
 reached the dessert stage, that is to say the most con- 
 vivial moment of the whole feast. But the hall was so 
 vast that the lamps and candles by which it was lighted, 
 numerous as they were, left the two sides, where fifteen 
 or twenty servants were going and coming, in a sort of 
 half darkness most favorable to the design of the 
 the fugitives. 
 
 The Queen and her companion passed among the 
 servants, who were too much occupied to observe them, 
 and without once stopping, without losing courage, 
 without looking back, they traversed the entire length 
 of the hall, and passed through the door at the other 
 end into an anteroom similar to the one they crossed 
 before entering the hall. There the Queen set down 
 her jar and Mary Seaton her basket and, still under the 
 child's guidance, they passed through a corridor, at the 
 end of which they found themselves in the courtyard. 
 A patrol was passing at the moment, but paid no atten- 
 tion to them. 
 
 The child led the way to the garden, still followed by 
 the two women. At that point he was compelled to 
 spend much time in finding the right key to open the 
 gate ; it was a moment of indescribable agony. At last 
 the key turned in the lock and the gate swung back ; 
 the Queen and her attendant rushed into the garden, 
 while their guide secured the gate behind them. 
 
 Two-thirds of the way across the garden, the little 
 fellow put out his hand and motioned to them to stop ; 
 he laid the casket and the keys on the ground, put his
 
 152 MARY STUAET. 
 
 hands to his mouth and thrice imitated the cry of the 
 owl with such perfection that it was incredible that the 
 sounds should have proceeded from the mouth of a 
 human being. Then he picked up the casket and the 
 keys and walked on tiptoe, listening intently. When 
 they were within a short distance of the wall they halted 
 again and, after a moment of anxious suspense, they 
 heard a groan and a noise that sounded like a body 
 falling. A second or two later the signal was answered. 
 " It is done," the boy coolly remarked ; " now let us 
 
 go-" 
 
 " What is it that is done," the Queen asked, " and 
 what was the groan we heard ? " 
 
 " There was a sentinel at the gate which opens on the 
 lake, but he is no longer there." 
 
 The Queen felt her blood run cold in her veins, for 
 she understood it all ; some poor wretch had lost his life 
 because of her. She leaned falteringly upon Mary 
 Seaton, who was, herself, well-nigh at the end of her 
 strength. Meanwhile Little William was trying his 
 keys ; the second one opened the gate. 
 
 "The Queen?" whispered a man who was waiting 
 outside the wall. 
 
 " She is behind me," the boy answered. 
 
 George Douglas, for it was he, darted into the garden 
 and, taking the Queen's arm in one hand and Mary 
 Seaton's in the other, he hurried them to the lake shore. 
 As she passed through the gate, Mary Stuart could not 
 forbear to glance uneasily to one side and the other, and 
 she thought she could see a shapeless mass lying at the 
 foot of the wall. A shudder ran through her every limb. 
 
 " Do not pity him," said George, in an undertone, " for 
 it is God's justice. It is the infamous villain Warden, 
 who betrayed us."
 
 MARY STUART. 153 
 
 "Alas!" said the Queen, "guilty though he may 
 have been, he died none the less because of me." 
 
 "When your welfare is at stake, Madame, can we 
 haggle over a drop or two of that ignoble blood ? But 
 hush ! This way, William, this way ; let us keep along 
 in the shadow of the wall. The boat is within twenty 
 feet and we are safe." 
 
 With that he drew the fugitives along more swiftly 
 than before, and all four reached the water's edge without 
 being discovered. There a small boat was lying, as 
 Douglas said, and, as they saw the fugitives coming, four 
 oarsmen who were lying in the bottom rose to their feet, 
 and one of them leaped ashore and drew the little craft 
 up so that the Queen and her companion could step 
 aboard. Douglas seated them at the bow, the boy took 
 his place at the tiller, and George, with his foot on 
 shore, gave a vigorous push, which sent the boat well 
 out into the lake. 
 
 " Now," said he, " we are out of danger, for as well 
 might they chase a tern on Solway Firth as try to over- 
 take us. Row, boys, row ; it matters little whether they 
 hear us now ; what we need is speed, speed." 
 
 " Who goes there ? " a voice cried from the top of the 
 tower. 
 
 "Boat there! boat," cried the sentinel. "Treason! 
 treason ! to arms ! " he shouted when he saw that the 
 rowers did not relax their efforts. 
 
 An instant later there was a flash, followed by a 
 report, and a bullet whistled over their heads. The 
 Queen gave a smothered shriek, although she was in no 
 danger, for George had taken his position directly in 
 front of her, and shielded her completely with his 
 body. 
 
 The alarm bell was now ringing madly and lights
 
 154 MABY 8TUAET. 
 
 were seen moving swiftly about from window to window 
 throughout the castle. 
 
 " Courage, boys," said Douglas, " and row as if your 
 life depended on every stroke of the oars, for the skiff 
 will be on our track within five minutes." 
 
 " They won't find it so easy as you think, George," 
 said Little Douglas, " for I locked all the doors behind 
 me, and it will be a long while before the keys I left 
 will unlock them. These," he added, indicating the 
 bunch he had so cleverly gained possession of, " I will 
 donate to Kelpie, the genius of the lake, and appoint 
 him porter of Lochleven Castle." 
 
 The report of a small piece of artillery replied to the 
 little fellow's pleasantry, but the night was so dark that 
 it was impossible to aim accurately at so great a distance 
 and the missile passed harmlessly by fifty feet away. 
 Douglas thereupon drew a pistol from his belt and, with 
 a warning word to the fugitives, discharged it in the air, 
 not to make an absurd display of bravado by way of 
 reply to the cannonade from the castle, but to inform a 
 party of her faithful friends who were waiting on the 
 shore that the Queen was safe. Shouts of joy and 
 welcome at once arose from the bank, regardless of the 
 fact that Kinross village was but a short distance away, 
 and the youthful helmsman steered in the direction of 
 the voices, and ran the boat ashore. Douglas offered 
 his hand to the Queen, who sprang lightly out upon the 
 bank, where she fell on her knees and, first of all, ren- 
 dered thanks to God for her fortunate escape. 
 
 When she arose she found herself in the midst of her 
 most trusted adherents, Hamilton, Herries and Seaton, 
 Mary's father. Half mad with joy, Mary held out her 
 hands to them, stammering out her thanks in broken 
 words, which were more expressive of her ecstasy and
 
 MARY STUART. 166 
 
 her deep gratitude than the most eloquent periods could 
 have been. Suddenly she turned her head and saw 
 George Douglas standing gloomily apart. Instantly she 
 went to him and took his hand. 
 
 " My Lords," she said, leading George forward and 
 pointing to Little Douglas, " behold my deliverers, to 
 whom, so long as I live, I shall owe a debt of gratitude 
 which I can never hope to repay." 
 
 " Madame," Douglas replied, " each of us has done 
 simply what he had to do, and he who incurred the most 
 risk is the most to be envied. But if your Majesty is 
 well-advised, you will waste no time in useless words." 
 
 " Douglas is right," said Seaton ; " to horse, to horse! " 
 
 Four couriers at once galloped off in different direc- 
 tions to make known to the Queen's partisans her 
 fortunate escape. With her old-time grace she sprang 
 upon the back of a horse which was led forward for her, 
 and the little band, consisting of a score of persons, and 
 acting as escort to the destiny of Scotland, made a 
 detour to avoid the village of Kinross, which was sure to 
 have been aroused by the firing from the fortress, and 
 rode rapidly away toward Seaton's castle, where a 
 sufficient garrison was assembled to protect the Queen 
 from a sudden attack. 
 
 She kept the saddle all night, Douglas riding on one 
 side and Lord Seaton on the other, and at daybreak 
 halted before the gate of the castle of Niddry, in 
 Western Lothian, belonging to Lord Seaton. Douglas 
 hastily alighted to offer his hand to the Queen, but Lord 
 Seaton claimed his privilege as host ; Mary consoled 
 Douglas with a glance and entered the fortress. 
 
 " Madame," said Lord Seaton, escorting her to the 
 apartment which had been nine months ready and wait- 
 ing for her coming, " Your Majesty must be in urgent
 
 156 MARY STUART. 
 
 need of repose, after the excitement and fatigue you 
 have experienced since yesterday morning. Sleep peace- 
 fully, I beg, and be alarmed at nothing. The noise you 
 may hear will be caused by a re-enforcement we are 
 expecting. As to our enemies, your Majesty has noth- 
 ing to fear from them while you are under a Seaton's 
 roof." 
 
 The Queen thanked her rescuers once more, gave 
 Douglas her hand to kiss for the last time, kissed Little 
 Douglas on the forehead, and appointed him her favorite 
 page. Then she withdrew to her bed-room, attended by 
 Mary Seaton, who claimed the exclusive privilege of 
 continuing to perform the duties which she had per- 
 formed for her royal mistress during their eleven months 
 of captivity. 
 
 When she reopened her eyes, Mary Stuart thought for 
 a moment that she had been dreaming one of those 
 blissful dreams which are so agonizing to a prisoner 
 when he awakes to find the bolts still in place on his 
 door, and the bars at his window. She could not believe 
 her eyes, and ran half-naked to the window. The court- 
 yard was filled with soldiers, all friends, who had flocked 
 to her standard immediately upon learning of her escape. 
 She recognized the banners of her faithful servants, the 
 Seatons, Arbroaths, Herries and Hamiltons, and she was 
 no sooner spied at the window than all those banners 
 were lowered before her, and on all sides arose shouts of: 
 
 " Long live Mary of Scotland ! long live our Queen ! " 
 
 Regardless of her neglige 1 attire, she bowed and smiled 
 with her eyes brimming with tears ; but the tears were 
 tears of joy. Suddenly she noticed that she was very 
 incompletely dressed, and she hastily retreated from the 
 window, blushing with confusion and shame that she 
 had allowed her emotion to carry her to such a point of
 
 MARY STUART. 157 
 
 self-forgetfulness. Thereupon she was momentarily as- 
 sailed by fears which were grave indeed for a woman. 
 She had made her escape from Lochleven in masculine 
 garb, and had had no time to take any clothes more 
 suited to her sex, even if it had been practicable so to 
 encumber her flight. Of course she could not continue 
 to dress like a groom, so she imparted her distress to 
 Mary Seaton, who replied by throwing open the ward- 
 robe in the Queen's apartment. It was supplied, not 
 only with dresses which were made by Mary Fleming's 
 measure, but with every essential of a woman's toilette. 
 The Queen was overwhelmed with astonishment; it 
 seemed as if she had fallen among fairies. 
 
 " Little one," she said, looking over the dresses, the 
 materials of which were selected with exquisite taste, "I 
 knew your father to be a gallant and loyal knight, but 
 not that he was so learned in matters pertaining to the 
 toilette. We will make him secretary of our wardrobe." 
 
 "Ah! Madame," the maiden replied with a smile, 
 " you are mistaken. My father looked to the polishing 
 of every cuirass, the sharpening of every sword, and the 
 unfurling of every banner ; but, although he is only too 
 ready to die for your Majesty, he would never have 
 thought of offering you anything more than his roof to 
 rest beneath, and his cloak to cover you. No : it was 
 Douglas, who foresaw and prepared everything every- 
 thing, even to Rosabelle, your Majesty's favorite hack- 
 ney, who is in the stable, impatiently awaiting the 
 moment when your Majesty will make her triumphal 
 entry into Edinburgh upon her back." 
 
 " But how did he succeed in getting her for me ? I 
 had been led to believe that in the division of my 
 spoils, Rosabelle fell to the fair Alice, my brother's fav- 
 orite sultana."
 
 158 MARY STUART. 
 
 " And so she did, and as her value was well-known 
 she was kept under lock and key, and guarded by an 
 army of grooms. But Douglas is a miracle-worker, and 
 Rosabelle, as I said, awaits your Majesty." 
 
 " Noble Douglas ! " murmured the Queen with tears 
 in her eyes. " And yet," she added, as if speaking to 
 herself, " his is a devotion for which no recompense is 
 possible. The others can be made content with titles, 
 places, or wealth ; but what are such things to Doug- 
 las?" 
 
 " Go to, Madame," said Mary Seaton ; " God is wont 
 to assume the obligations of kings, and he will give 
 Douglas his due reward. I beg your Majesty to re- 
 member now that dinner is served and awaiting your 
 coming. I trust," she added with a smile, " that you 
 will not put upon my father the affront you put upon 
 Lord Douglas yesterday, by refusing to join in the 
 festivities to celebrate a safe return." 
 
 " And well it was that I did so," said Mary, " But a 
 truce to gloomy thoughts, little one ; we will consider, 
 when we are really Queen once more, what we can do 
 for Douglas," 
 
 She made her toilette, and went down to the great 
 hall, where those of the principal nobles of her party 
 who had as yet arrived at the rendezvous were awaiting 
 her. Her advent was greeted with tumultuous enthusi- 
 asm, and she took her place at table with Lord Seaton 
 at her right, Douglas at her left, and Little William 
 behind her chair, exercising his new functions of page. 
 
 The next morning the Queen was awakened by the 
 sound of trumpets and horns. It had been agreed the 
 night before that they should start that day for Hamil- 
 ton, where they expected to find further levies. The 
 Queen donned a bewitching Amazonian costume, and
 
 MARY STUART. 159 
 
 appeared among her protectors, mounted on Rosabelle. 
 Joyful shouts arose on all sides ; every one admired and 
 praised her beauty and grace and spirit. Mary Stuart 
 was herself again, and she felt her hold tighten upon 
 the power of fascination which she had always exerted 
 over all who came near her. Every soul was in high 
 good humor, and perhaps the happiest of all was Little 
 Douglas, who for the first time in his life wore a beauti- 
 ful costume, and rode a beautiful horse. 
 
 Two or three thousand men awaited the Queen at 
 Hamilton, where she arrived the same evening; and 
 during the night following her force was increased to 
 six thousand. On May 2d she was a prisoner, with no 
 friend in her prison save a young boy, and no other 
 means of communication with her adherents than the 
 flickering, uncertain light of a lamp ; and three days 
 later she was not free simply, but at the head of a 
 powerful confederation, which numbered among its 
 leaders nine earls, eight barons, nine bishops, and a 
 great number of knights and gentlemen among the most 
 renowned in Scotland for gallantry and chivalrous devo- 
 tion. 
 
 The advice of the most discreet of those who were in 
 attendance upon the Queen was to shut herself up in 
 the fortress of Dunbarton, which was substantially 
 impregnable, and thus give all her partisans, however 
 far away and scattered they might be, time to join her 
 standard. In accordance with that advice, the command 
 of the troops who were to escort the Queen to Dunbarton 
 was entrusted to the Earl of Argyle, and on the llth 
 of May she set out with an army of about ten thousand 
 men. 
 
 Murray was at Glasgow when he learned of his sister's 
 escape ; it was a strong place, so he determined to remain
 
 160 MARY STUART. 
 
 there, and summoned the bravest and most devoted of 
 his faction to join him. Kirkaldy of Grange, Morton, 
 Lindsay of the Byres, Lord Lochleven and William 
 Douglas answered his call, and six thousand of the best 
 troops of the kingdom were under arms there, while 
 Lord Ruthven was making levies in Berwick and 
 Angus, with which he was to join them. 
 
 On May 13th at daybreak Morton occupied the vil- 
 lage of Langside, through which it was necessary for 
 Mary to pass on her way to Dunbarton. Word was 
 brought to the Queen when the armies were about three 
 leagues apart. Her first impulse was to try to avoid a 
 battle, for she remembered her last experience at Car- 
 berry Hill which resulted in her being separated from 
 Bothwell and haled back to Edinburgh. She gave 
 voice to her opinion, and was supported by George 
 Douglas, who retained his position at her side, clad in a 
 suit of black armor, without device. 
 
 " Avoid a battle ! " cried Lord Seaton, not daring to 
 reply to his sovereign, but addressing Douglas, as if the 
 opinion had been his originally ; " we might perhaps do 
 so if we were one against ten, but most assuredly not, 
 when we are three against two. You hold strange 
 language, young sir," he continued in a slightly scornful 
 tone, " and you seem to forget that you are a Douglas, 
 and that you are addressing a Seaton." 
 
 "My Lord," George rejoined calmly, "if we were 
 risking no lives save those of Seatons and Douglases, 
 you would find me, I trust, as well disposed as yourself 
 to do battle, though we were one against ten, or three 
 against two ; but at this moment we are responsible for 
 an existence which is more precious to Scotland than 
 those of all the Seatons and all the Douglases. My 
 opinion still is, therefore, that we should avoid a battle."
 
 MARY STUART. 161 
 
 " Onset ! onset ! " cried all the leaders with one voice. 
 
 " Do you hear, Madame ? " said Lord Seaton to Mary; 
 "to decide otherwise in the face of such unanimity 
 would be unwise, I believe. There is an old Scotch 
 proverb, Madame, which says that courage is the 
 greatest prudence." 
 
 " But you heard it said, did you not," rejoined the 
 Queen, " that the Regent occupies a strong position ? " 
 
 " The greyhound pursues the hare over hill as well as 
 over plain," was Seaton's reply ; " however strong his 
 position we will dislodge him." 
 
 " Let it be as you wish, my Lords. It shall not be 
 said that Mary Stuart ordered the sword which her 
 defenders drew in her cause to be sheathed." 
 
 She turned to Douglas. 
 
 " George," she said, " select a body-guard of twenty 
 men, and take command of it ; you must not leave my 
 side." 
 
 George bowed his acquiescence, selected twenty of the 
 flower of the army, placed the Queen in the centre of 
 them, and took his own place at their head. The march 
 was then resumed, and in about two hours the vanguard 
 came in sight of the enemy. Thereupon they halted 
 and the rest of the army caught them up. 
 
 The Queen's forces were then abreast of the city of 
 Glasgow. The higher land directly in front of them 
 was occupied by a considerable force flying the royal 
 standard of Scotland, which was displayed by the 
 opposing army as well. On the other hand, and upon 
 the opposite slope of the hill, lay the village of Langside, 
 surrounded by gardens. The road which led thither, 
 and which followed all the inequalities of the soil, was 
 so narrow at one spot that there was barely room for 
 two men to pass ; farther on it plunged into a ravine, 
 Vol. IV 11.
 
 162 MARY STUART. 
 
 and when it emerged on the other side it separated into 
 two, one of which ran up the hill to Langside, and the 
 other went on to Glasgow. 
 
 When the Earl of Argyle saw how the land lay he 
 realized the importance of gaining possession of the 
 village ; he ordered Lord Seaton to hasten thither, and 
 try to anticipate the enemy, who had doubtless made 
 the same discovery as the leader of the royal army, for 
 a considerable body of cavalry was in motion at that 
 moment. 
 
 Lord Seaton at once collected his men ; but while they 
 were taking their places around his banner, Lord 
 Arbroath drew his sword and rode up to the Earl of 
 Argyle. 
 
 "My Lord," he said, "you wrong me by sending 
 Lord Seaton to seize that position ; that honor belongs 
 to me as commander of the vanguard. Give me leave 
 to assert my right, and claim the honor." 
 
 " The order to seize the post was given to me, and, by 
 heaven, I will execute it ! " cried Seaton. 
 
 "It may be so," retorted Arbroath, "but not in 
 advance of me ! " 
 
 "In advance of you and of all the Hamiltons on 
 earth," shouted Seaton, galloping off upon the narrow 
 road. "St. Bennet! forward!" 
 
 "Forward, my gallants I" cried Arbroath, darting 
 away in the same direction; "forward, my men-at- 
 arms ! God and the Queen ! " 
 
 Both troops followed their chieftains in disorderly 
 fashion, and crowded into the narrow pass, where, as we 
 have said, it was difficult for two men to walk abreast. 
 There was a terrible shock and crush, and the battle 
 began between friends, who should have shown a united 
 front against the common foe. At last they crowded
 
 MARY STUART. 163 
 
 through the pass, leaving behind the bodies of several 
 who were stifled in the crush or killed by their compan- 
 ions and disappeared in the ravine. 
 
 But Seaton and Arbroath had lost many precious 
 moments in this senseless struggle, and the detach- 
 ment sent by Murray arrived first at the village, 
 which it was necessary now not to seize simply, but to 
 capture. 
 
 Argyle saw that the principal struggle of the day 
 must take place at that point, and becoming more and 
 more impressed with the strategical importance of the 
 village, he placed himself at the head of his main body, 
 ordering a rear guard of two thousand men to hold their 
 present position and await further orders before joining 
 in the battle. But the officer to whom he entrusted the 
 command of that force either misunderstood his orders 
 or was desirous of distinguishing himself in the Queen's 
 eyes; for Argyle had no sooner disappeared in the 
 ravine, at the farther extremity of which the battle was 
 already on between Kirkaldy of Grange and Morton on 
 one side, and Arbroath and Seaton on the other, than 
 he, too, set off at full speed, disregarding the Queen's 
 commands, and left her with no other guard than the 
 escort of twenty men whom Douglas had chosen. 
 
 Douglas heaved a sigh, which the Queen overheard. 
 
 " Alas ! " she said, " I am no soldier ; but, methinks, 
 the battle is but ill begun." 
 
 " What would you ? " Douglas rejoined ; " from the 
 first man to the last we are the victims of a sort of 
 vertigo, and all those men are acting like fools or 
 children." 
 
 " Victory ! victory ! " the Queen suddenly exclaimed. 
 " See, the enemy are retreating. I saw the banners of 
 Seaton and Arbroath waving among the first houses in
 
 164 MARY STUART. 
 
 the village. Oh, my gallant nobles ! " she cried, clap- 
 ping her hands ; " Victory ! victory ! " 
 
 But her enthusiasm was as suddenly quenched as she 
 saw a hostile force advancing to attack the victors in 
 flank. 
 
 " That is nothing, that's nothing," said Douglas ; " so 
 long as there are none but cavalry, there is little to fear ; 
 and besides, the Earl of Argyle will come up in time to 
 support them." 
 
 " George ! " said his young kinsman. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Look ! " said the child, pointing to the enemy, who 
 were galloping toward the village. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Each horseman has an arquebusier en croupe, so that 
 they are really twice as numerous as they seem." 
 
 " By heaven ! it is true ; the boy has sharp eyes. Let 
 some one ride amain and warn the Earl of Argyle." 
 
 " I will go ! I ! " cried the boy. " I saw them first, 
 and it is my right to carry the warning." 
 
 " Go then, my boy," said Douglas, " and God have you 
 in his keeping ! " 
 
 The child rode away like a flash, not hearing, or feign- 
 ing not to hear, the Queen call him back. They watched 
 him through the narrow pass, and saw him plunge into 
 the ravine, just as Argyle emerged from the other end 
 to reinforce Seaton and Arbroath. Meanwhile the 
 infantry of the detachment of the enemy had alighted 
 and scattered along the side of the ravine, where horses 
 could not go. 
 
 " William will arrive too late," cried Douglas ; " even 
 should he arrive in time the warning will be useless- 
 O fools, fools that we are ! Thus have we always lost 
 our battles ! "
 
 MARY STUART. 165 
 
 " Pray, is the battle lost? " Mary asked with colorless 
 cheeks. 
 
 " No, Madame, no," cried Douglas, " not yet, thank 
 God ! but we made a bad beginning through being over- 
 hasty." 
 
 " And what of William? " said Mary. 
 
 " He is now having his first taste of war, for, unless I 
 am much mistaken, he ought now to be at the very spot 
 where those arquebusiers are firing so rapidly." 
 
 " Poor child ! " said the Queen, " I shall never forgive 
 myself if aught befall him." 
 
 " Alas ! Madame," replied Douglas, " I greatly fear 
 that his first battle is destined to be his last, and that it 
 is all over with him, for I am much deceived if this is 
 not his horse returning without a rider." 
 
 " O my God ! my God ! " said the Queen, raising her 
 arms to heaven, while the tears streamed from her eyes ; 
 " is it written that I bring death to all who love me ? " 
 
 George was not in error ; it was William's horse, rider- 
 less and covered with blood. 
 
 " Madame," said Douglas, " we are badly placed here ; 
 " let us ride to the top of yonder eminence, to Crookstane 
 Castle ; from there we can see the whole field of 
 battle." 
 
 "No, not there! not there!" almost shrieked the 
 Queen ; " in that castle I passed the first days of my 
 honeymoon with Darnley; it would bring me ill- 
 fortune." 
 
 " Very well ; under yonder yew, then," said George, 
 pointing to another hill near the first ; " it is important 
 that we should lose no detail of the engagement. Your 
 Majesty's fate may, perhaps, depend on an ill-judged 
 manoeuvre or a lost opportunity." 
 
 " Take me there," said the Queen ; " for I can no
 
 166 MARY STUART. 
 
 longer see my way. Every report of that terrible artil- 
 lery echoes to the very bottom of my heart." 
 
 Although the eminence which they ascended was so 
 situated as to command a view of the whole field of 
 battle, the constant discharge of artillery and the sharp 
 fusillade produced so dense a cloud of smoke that it 
 was impossible to distinguish aught save shapeless masses 
 struggling amid the homicidal vapor. At last, when the 
 desperate conflict had lasted nearly an hour, they saw 
 fleeing men emerge from the sea of smoke, and scatter 
 in all directions, pursued by the victors. But at that 
 distance it was impossible to distinguish who had won or 
 lost the day, nor did the standards contribute to the 
 solution of the difficulty, as they were identical on both 
 sides, and all bore the arms of Scotland. 
 
 Suddenly they saw the last of the reserve of Murray's 
 army rushing down the hill from the direction of 
 Glasgow to join in the affray, but their purpose might as 
 well be to support the retreat of their friends as to put 
 the finishing touch to the defeat of their enemies. But 
 it was not long before all doubt was removed ; for the 
 reserve charged the fugitives and caused renewed con- 
 fusion among them. 
 
 The Queen's army was defeated. 
 
 Just as they became convinced that this was so, three 
 or four horsemen rode out of the ravine on the side 
 nearest them, spurring rapidly toward them. Douglas 
 saw at a glance that they were enemies. 
 
 " Fly, Madame ! " he cried ; " fly without losing a 
 second, for they will soon be followed by others. Make 
 all the speed you can while I hold them in check. And 
 do you," he added, turning to the escort, " sell your lives 
 as dearly as possible, and die to the last man rather than 
 let your Queen be taken."
 
 MARY STUART. 167 
 
 " George ! George ! " cried the Queen, standing as if 
 nailed to her place. 
 
 But George had already ridden away at full speed, 
 and, as he was mounted on a superb horse, he traversed 
 the intervening space with the rapidity of lightning and 
 reached the narrow pass before his adversaries. There 
 he stopped, placed his lance in rest, and coolly awaited 
 the onset, one man against five. 
 
 The Queen could not make up her mind to fly, but 
 remained, as if turned to stone, on the same spot, with 
 her eyes fixed on the combat which was taking place 
 within five hundred yards of her. Suddenly she noticed 
 that one of George's opponents bore in the centre of his 
 shield a bleeding heart, which was the Douglas crest. 
 
 " Douglas against Douglas ; brother against brother 1 " 
 she murmured ; " it needed but this." 
 
 " Madame ! Madame ! " cried the soldiers of her escort, 
 " there is not an instant to lose ; the young Lord of 
 Douglas cannot long hold head alone against five ; let 
 us fly ! " 
 
 Two of them seized the Queen's rein on either side 
 and set off at a gallop, just as George, after striking 
 down two of his adversaries and wounding a third, was 
 himself laid in the dust, with his heart pierced by a 
 lance-head. 
 
 The Queen groaned aloud when she saw him fall ; 
 then, as if he alone had detained her and she took no 
 further interest in anything now that he was slain, she 
 gave Kosabelle the rein, and, as she and her escort were 
 all splendidly mounted, the battlefield was soon left far 
 behind. 
 
 She rode sixty miles without rest, and without ceasing 
 to weep and sigh. After riding through Renfrewshire 
 and Ayrshire, she reached the Abbey of Dundrennan,
 
 168 MARY STUART. 
 
 in Galloway, and commanded a halt there, being certain 
 that she was out of danger, for a time at least. 
 
 The prior came to the convent gate and received her 
 with due respect. 
 
 " I bring you desolation and woe, father," said Mary 
 as she alighted from her horse. 
 
 " They are welcome," replied the prior, " as they come 
 in the train of duty." 
 
 The Queen commended Rosabelle to one of the men- 
 at-arms who accompanied her, and entered the convent 
 leaning upon Mary Seaton, who had not left her for a 
 moment, and Lord Herries, who had joined her on the 
 road. 
 
 Lord Herries did not attempt to conceal from her the 
 gravity of her position. The battle had resulted in 
 total defeat, and with the battle all hope of her re- 
 ascending the throne of Scotland, for the present at 
 least, if not forever, had been swept away. There 
 remained three alternatives for her to choose between 
 she could go to France, to England, or to Spain. 
 Acting upon the advice of Lord Herries, which accorded 
 with her own inclination, she decided upon England, 
 and that same night she wrote to Elizabeth this double 
 letter, in prose and in verse : 
 
 "My DEAR SISTER: 
 
 " I have many a time implored you to receive my 
 storm-tossed ship in your haven during the tempest. If 
 now she finds safe harbor there, I will cast anchor for 
 the remainder of my days ; otherwise the poor craft is 
 in God's care, and she is well caulked and ready to 
 defend herself against all the storms that blow. I have 
 conducted myself with due respect toward you, and do 
 still. Do not take it in bad part that I write thus, for
 
 MARY 8TAURT. 169 
 
 it is not due to suspicion on my part, as you can see, 
 because I rely upon your friendship in everything," 
 This sonnet accompanied the letter. 
 
 Un seul penser qui me profile et nuit 
 Amer et doux change en mon cceur sans cesse 
 Entre le doute et 1'espoir qui m'oppresse, 
 Tant que la paix et le repos me fuit. 
 
 Done, chfere sceur, si cette carte suit 
 L'affection de vous voir qui m'oppresse, 
 C'este que je vis en peine et en tristesse, 
 Si promptement doux effet ne s'ensuit. 
 
 J'ai vu ma nef retAcher par contrainte 
 En haute mer, proche d'entrer au port, 
 Et temps serein se convertir en trouble, 
 
 Ainsi je suis en soucy et en crainte ; 
 Non pas de vous, mais si sou vent Atort 
 Fortune rompt violle et cordage double ! 
 
 Elizabeth fairly shook with delight when she received 
 this letter. For eight years past her hatred of Mary 
 Stuart had increased steadily, day by day, and she had 
 followed her with her eyes as the wolf follows the 
 gazelle; and lo! the gazelle had come voluntarily to 
 seek refuge in the wolf's lair. It was more than Eliza- 
 beth had dared to hope, and she at once dispatched an 
 order to the Sheriff of Cumberland to inform Mary that 
 she was ready to receive her. 
 
 So it was that one morning the inmates of the convent 
 heard the blast of a trumpet on the shore. It announced 
 the arrival of Queen Elizabeth's envoy on his mission 
 to Queen Mary. 
 
 Thereupon most urgent appeals were made to the 
 fugitive not to put herself in the hands of one who was 
 her rival in power and glory and beauty, but the poor, 
 dethroned Queen was overflowing with confidence in 
 her " dear sister," and believed that she should enjoy at 
 Elizabeth's court the position due to her rank and
 
 170 MARY 8TUABT. 
 
 misfortunes ; and so she persisted in her purpose, in spite 
 of all that any one could say. In our own day we have 
 seen the same infatuation take possession of another 
 royal fugitive, who put his trust, as Mary Stuart did, in 
 the generosity of England, his bitter foe; like Mary 
 Stuart, he was cruelly punished for his confidence, and 
 for him the scaffold of Fotheringay became the murder- 
 ous climate of St. Helena. 
 
 Mary therefore set out with her little retinue. When 
 they reached the shore of Solway Firth they found 
 there the warden of the English frontier, a gentleman 
 named Lowther, who received the Queen with the 
 utmost consideration, but informed her that he could 
 allow but three of her women to accompany her. Mary 
 Seaton immediately claimed the privilege of being one 
 of them. 
 
 " Alas ! little one," said the Queen, giving her her 
 hand, " it ought to be another's turn now ; you have 
 already suffered too much for me and with me." 
 
 But Mary, whose sobs forbade her replying in words, 
 clung to her hand, and shook her head as if to say that 
 nothing in the world could separate her from her mistress. 
 
 Thereupon all those who accompanied the Queen 
 renewed their entreaties to her to abandon her fatal 
 determination, and even when she was two-thirds of the 
 way across the plank leading to the boat, the Prior of 
 Dundrennan, who had given her shelter and hospitality 
 with touching devotion when it was a most dangerous 
 thing for him to do, walked into the water to his knees 
 to try to detain her. But it was all to no purpose ; the 
 Queen's resolution was not to be shaken. 
 
 At this moment Lowther approached. 
 
 " Madame," he said, " deign to allow me once more 
 to express my regret that I cannot extend a cordial
 
 MABY STUART. 171 
 
 welcome in England to all those who would be glad to 
 follow you thither ; but our Queen has given positive 
 orders on the subject, and it is our duty to execute 
 them. May I remind your Majesty that the tide favors 
 us at this moment ? " 
 
 " Positive orders ! " cried the Prior ; " do you hear, 
 Madame ? Oh ! you are lost if you leave this shore ! 
 Back, while it is still time ! Back, Madame, in heaven's 
 name ! Help, Sir Knights, help I " he shouted, turning 
 to Lord Herries and the other gentlemen of Mary's 
 suite ; " do not permit your Queen to abandon you, but 
 detain her, gentlemen, in heaven's name, detain her 
 though you are forced to contend against herself as well 
 as the English ! " 
 
 " What means this violence, Sir Priest," said Low- 
 ther ; " I am here at the express request of your Queen ; 
 she is free to return with you, and there is no occasion 
 to resort to force. Madame," he continued, turning to 
 the Queen, " is it your pleasure, of your own free will, 
 to follow me to England ? Tell me, I entreat you, for 
 it is most important that all the world should know that 
 your inclination is in no way forced." 
 
 " Sir," Mary replied, " I crave your pardon, in behalf 
 of this worthy servant of God, and of his Queen, for 
 aught that he may have said to offend you. I leave 
 Scotland of my own free will, and put myself in your 
 hands, with full confidence that I shall be free to remain 
 in England with my royal sister, or to return to my 
 kinsfolk in France. Your blessing, father," she said to 
 the Prior, " and may God protect you ! " 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! " muttered the priest, " not for us is 
 God's protection needed, but for you, my daughter. 
 May the blessing of a poor priest turn aside from your 
 royal head the misfortunes which I foresee. Go, and
 
 172 MARY STUART. 
 
 may it be with you as God in his infinite wisdom and 
 mercy has decreed." 
 
 Thereupon the Queen gave her hand to the Sheriff, 
 who led her aboard the boat, followed by Mary Seaton 
 and two other female attendants only. The sails were 
 set at once, and the little craft moved swiftly away 
 toward the Cumberland shore. As long as it was in 
 sight Mary's friends remained at the water's edge, 
 making gestures of farewell to their mistress, who stood 
 in the stern sheets, waving her handkerchief to them. 
 At last the boat disappeared, and they made no further 
 attempt to restrain their bitter grief. Fully justified it 
 was, too, for the presentiments of the good Prior of 
 Dundrennan came true, and they never saw Mary 
 Stuart again. 
 
 When she landed on English soil, the Queen of 
 Scotland was met by messengers from Elizabeth, who 
 were instructed to express to her their mistress's pro- 
 found regret that she was unable either to admit her to 
 her presence, or to accord her the affectionate welcome 
 which would be hers if she obeyed only the promptings 
 of her heart. But it was absolutely necessary, they 
 added, that Mary should first purge herself of all 
 suspicion of guilty complicity in the death of Darnley, 
 whose family, being subjects of Queen Elizabeth, were 
 entitled to protection and justice at her hands. 
 
 Mary Stuart was so blind that she failed to see the 
 trap spread before her feet, and she at once offered to 
 establish her innocence to the satisfaction of her sister 
 Elizabeth. But the latter no sooner had Mary's letter 
 in her hands then she laid aside the functions of arbi- 
 trator to assume those of a judge ; she appointed com- 
 missioners to hear the parties, and summoned Murray to 
 appear as his sister's accuser.
 
 MARY STUART. 173 
 
 Murray was informed of Elizabeth's secret purpose 
 with regard to her rival, and he did not hesitate an instant. 
 He went to England with the casket containing the 
 three letters we have cited, divers pieces of verse, and 
 some other documents tending to prove not only that 
 the Queen had been BothwelFs mistress during Darn- 
 ley's lifetime, but that she was privy to the murder of 
 her husband. 
 
 On the other hand, Lord Herries and the Bishop of 
 Ross, acting as advocates for the Queen, maintained 
 that the letters were not genuine and that the hand- 
 writing was disguised, and in order to verify their 
 claim they called for the testimony of experts, but it 
 was refused; the result being that that important 
 question was left to be discussed by future ages, and to 
 this day no definite decision has ever been reached by 
 students or historians. 
 
 After an inquiry lasting five months the Queen of 
 England caused the parties to be informed that as 
 nothing had been disclosed which impugned the honor 
 of accuser or accused, the matter would be allowed to 
 remain in statu quo until some new evidence was brought 
 forward on one side or the other. 
 
 The logical result of this extraordinary decision would 
 seem to have been that the Regent should be sent back 
 to Scotland, and Mary Stuart restored to freedom. But 
 on the contrary, she was transferred from Bolton Castle 
 to Carlisle, from which place, as if to crown her grief, 
 the poor Queen could see the blue mountains of Scot- 
 land. 
 
 Among the commissioners appointed by Elizabeth to 
 investigate Mary's conduct was Thomas Howard, Duke 
 of Norfolk. Whether he was honestly convinced of her 
 innocence, or was influenced by the ambitious schemes
 
 174 MARY STUART. 
 
 which were afterwards made the ground of accusation 
 against him, and which were supposed to contemplate 
 his own marriage with Mary Stuart, the betrothal of his 
 daughter to the young King, and his appointment as 
 Regent of Scotland certain it is that he resolved to 
 release the Queen from captivity. Several members of 
 the English nobility, among others the Earls of West- 
 moreland and Northumberland, joined in the plot, and 
 agreed to do their utmost to bring it to a successful 
 issue. But their plans were betrayed to the Regent, 
 and by him communicated to Elizabeth, who ordered 
 Norfolk's arrest. Westmoreland and Northumberland 
 were warned in time, and took refuge across the frontier 
 in the marches which were favorably disposed to Queen 
 Mary. The former crossed the channel to Flanders, 
 where he died in exile ; Northumberland was betrayed 
 to Murray and imprisoned in Lochleven Castle, which 
 kept closer watch over him than over its royal prisoner. 
 Norfolk died on the scaffold; Mary Stuart's star had 
 not lost its fatal influence. 
 
 Meanwhile the Regent had returned to Edinburgh, 
 loaded with gifts, and practically victorious in his suit, 
 as Mary was still a prisoner. He at once busied him- 
 self dispersing the remainder of her partisans, and as 
 soon as the doors of Lochleven Castle had closed upon 
 Northumberland he instituted proceedings, in the name 
 of the young King James VI., against all those who 
 had upheld the cause of his mother, particularly the 
 Hamiltons, who since the affair of the " street sweeping " 
 at Edinburgh had been mortal enemies of the Douglases. 
 Six of the most prominent members of that family were 
 condemned to death, and succeeded in obtaining a com- 
 mutation of the sentence to perpetual banishment only 
 through the intercession of John Knox, whose influence
 
 MART STUART. 175 
 
 in Scotland was then so great that Murray dared not 
 refuse him. 
 
 One of these amnestied persons was a certain Hamil- 
 ton of Bothwellhaugh, a true Scot of the old days, wild 
 and revengeful, as the nobles of the first James' time. 
 He was living in a hiding-place he had found in the 
 Highlands, when he learned that Murray, who had 
 bestowed his property upon one of his minions by virtue 
 of the decree of confiscation against the exiles, had 
 barbarously driven his invalid, bed-ridden wife out of 
 her own house, without so much as giving her time to 
 dress, although it was the coldest season of the year. 
 The poor woman, left thus without clothes or food, or a 
 roof to cover her head, had gone mad, and wandered 
 over the country for some time in that condition, an 
 object of universal sympathy, and of universal terror as 
 well, for everyone was afraid of compromising himself 
 by doing aught to alleviate her sufferings. At last she 
 returned, to die of cold and starvation at the threshold 
 of the door from which she had been so brutally driven 
 forth. 
 
 When Bothwellhaugh was informed of her terrible 
 fate, he gave no sign of anger, notwithstanding his 
 violent temper ; he remarked simply, with a smile of 
 fearful meaning: 
 
 " Tis well ; I will avenge her." 
 
 The next morning Bothwellhaugh left the Highlands, 
 armed with an order from the Archbishop of St. 
 Andrews (who, as our readers will remember, followed 
 the Queen's fortunes to the last moment), that a house 
 which that prelate owned at Linlithgow should be 
 placed at his disposal. This house was situated on the 
 principal street, and had a wooden balcony looking 
 upon the square, and a gate opening into the fields.
 
 176 MARY STUART. 
 
 Bothwellhaugh entered the house after dark, took up his 
 quarters on the first floor, stretched a black cloth over 
 the walls so that his shadow could not be seen from the 
 street, covered the floor with mattresses so that his steps 
 could not be heard in the room below, tied a fleet horse 
 all saddled and bridled in the garden, hollowed out the 
 arch of the little gate leading into the fields so that he 
 could pass beneath it at a gallop, loaded an arquebus, 
 and shut himself up in his room. 
 
 All these preparations were due, as the reader may 
 have guessed, to the fact that Murray was to pass 
 through Linlithgow the next day. Secretly as he had 
 made them they were very near amounting to nothing, 
 for the Regent's friends warned him that it would be 
 unsafe for him to pass through the town, which belonged 
 almost entirely to the Hamiltons, and advised him to 
 make a detour to avoid it. 
 
 But Murray was a brave man, and unaccustomed to 
 recoil from real danger; so he simply scoffed at a 
 danger which he looked upon as altogether fanciful, and 
 boldly carried out his original plan. 
 
 As the street which the Archbishop's balcony over- 
 hung was included in his route as laid down, he rode 
 into it, not at a gallop, preceded by guards to clear the 
 road, as his friends advised, but at a foot-pace, which 
 was rendered necessary by the great crowd which 
 thronged the street to get a glimpse of him. When he 
 arrived opposite the balcony, as if chance were in 
 alliance with the murderer, the press was so great that 
 he was forced to halt for an instant. Thus Bothwell- 
 haugh was able to take sure aim. He rested his arque- 
 bus on the rail of the balcony, and having adjusted it 
 with the utmost moderation and coolness, fired. The 
 charge was so heavy that the bullet, after passing
 
 MARY STUART. 177 
 
 through the Regent's body, killed the horse of a gentle- 
 man at his right. Murray fell to the ground, exclaim- 
 ing : " My God ! I am killed." 
 
 As there was no question as to the window from which 
 the shot was fired, the Regent's followers immediately 
 rushed at the street door of the house, and broke it 
 down ; but they were just in time to see Bothwellhaugh 
 riding out through the gate on the horse which stood 
 ready for him. They remounted their own horses, which 
 they had left in the street, and galloped back through 
 the garden in pursuit. Bothwellhaugh had an excellent 
 horse, and was some distance in advance of his pursuers; 
 but four of them were so well mounted that they soon 
 began to gain upon him. Thereupon, seeing that whip 
 and spurs were not enough, he drew his dagger and 
 urged his horse on with that. The animal seemed to 
 acquire fresh strength under that agonizing stimulus, 
 and leaped across a ravine eighteen feet wide, thus 
 placing an impassable barrier between his master and 
 those who were pursuing him. 
 
 The murderer crossed over to France, and entered the 
 Guises. His bold exploit had given him such a reputation, 
 that overtures were made to him to assassinate Coligny 
 some days before the St. Bartholomew. But Bothwell- 
 haugh rejected them with indignant scorn ; he avenged 
 wrongs done to himself, he said, and was no assassin ; 
 they who had grounds for complaint against the Admiral 
 had only to come and ask him what method he pursued, 
 and go and do likewise. 
 
 Murray died during the night after he was wounded, 
 leaving the Regency to the Earl of Lennox, Darnley's 
 father. 
 
 When she learned that Murray was no more, Elizabeth 
 cried that she had lost her best friend. 
 
 Vol. IV.-1Z
 
 178 MARY STUART. 
 
 While these things were happening in Scotland, Mary 
 Stuart was still held in durance, despite the urgent 
 demands of Charles IX. and Henry III., one after the 
 other. But Elizabeth, alarmed at the movement in her 
 favor which had been attempted, ordered her removal 
 to the castle of Sheffield, the neighborhood of which was 
 constantly patroled by guards who were frequently 
 changed. Meanwhile days and months and years rolled by 
 and poor Mary, who found it so hard to bear her eleven 
 months' imprisonment in Lochleven Castle, had been for 
 fifteen or sixteen years dragged from prison to prison, 
 despite her own remonstrances and those of the French 
 and Spanish ambassadors, when she was at last consigned 
 to Tutbury Castle, and the care of Sir Amyas Paulet, 
 the last of her many gaolers. The quarters set apart 
 for her there' consisted of two low, damp rooms, where 
 the little strength which remained to her gradually wore 
 away, and there were days when she could not walk on 
 account of the excrutiating pains in every limb. Then 
 it was that she who had been Queen of two kingdoms, 
 rocked in a golden cradle, and reared in silk and velvet, 
 was compelled to humble herself so far as to beg her 
 gaoler for a softer bed and warmer bed-clothing. This 
 request, treated as an affair of state, gave rise to 
 negotiations which lasted a month, after which she was 
 allowed to have what she requested. 
 
 However the unhealthiness of her place of confine- 
 ment, the cold, and privations of every sort did not act 
 with sufficient rapidity upon that robust and healthy 
 constitution. They tried to make Paulet understand 
 how great a service he would render the Queen of 
 England by shortening the existence of the rival who 
 was already condemned to death in her mind, but was 
 so slow to die.
 
 MARY STUART. 179 
 
 But Sir Amyas Paulet, coarse and brutal as he was 
 in his treatment of Mary, swore a great oath that, so 
 long as she was in his care, she need have no fear of 
 poison or the dagger, for he would himself taste all the 
 dishes which were served at her table, and no person 
 should approach her except in his presence. In fact 
 certain assassins sent thither by Leicester the same 
 Leicester who aspired for a brief moment to win the 
 hand of lovely Mary Stuart were driven from the 
 castle by its irate governor as soon as he learned with 
 what object they had come. 
 
 So Elizabeth was fain to possess her soul in patience, 
 contenting herself with harassing the unfortunate 
 creature whom she could not kill, and living in hopes 
 that some new opportunity would arise to put her at the 
 bar of justice. This opportunity was long in coming, 
 but Mary Stuart's unlucky star brought it about at 
 last. 
 
 A young Catholic gentleman, the last remnant of the 
 old-fashioned chivalry which was well-nigh extinct at 
 that time, was raised to such a high pitch of exaltation 
 by the Pope's excommunication, which declared that 
 Elizabeth had forfeited her earthly throne and her 
 hopes of salvation, that he resolved to restore Mary to 
 liberty. She was beginning at that time to be looked 
 upon rather as a martyr to her faith than as a political 
 prisoner. 
 
 A law had been enacted by Elizabeth's command in 
 1585, providing that if any attack upon her person 
 should be contemplated by or on behalf of anybody who 
 assumed to have a claim to the English throne, a commis- 
 sion of twenty-five should be appointed, which should 
 have exclusive jurisdiction to investigate the offence and 
 pass sentence upon the culprits, whoever they might be.
 
 180 MARY STUART. 
 
 Babington was not deterred by this law, nor discouraged 
 by the example of his predecessors ; he collected five of 
 his friends, zealous Catholics like himself, who put their 
 lives and their honor at stake in the plot in which he 
 was the prime mover, and which had for its objects the 
 assassination of Elizabeth and the accession of Mary 
 Stuart to the English throne. But the scheme, well-laid 
 as it was, was revealed to Walsingham, who allowed the 
 conspirators to go as far as he thought he could safely 
 do, and had them arrested the day before that fixed for 
 the assassination. 
 
 Elizabeth's joy knew no bounds when this imprudent 
 and desperate attempt at last placed her rival's fate in 
 her hands, according to the letter of the law. Orders 
 were at once issued to Sir Amyas Paulet to seize the 
 prisoner's papers and transfer her to Fotheringay Castle. 
 Thereupon the gaoler, with a hypocritical pretence, of 
 relaxing his usual severity, offered to allow the Queen 
 to take the air on horseback, on the pretext that her 
 health required it. The unhappy prisoner, who had not 
 seen the green fields for three long years, except through 
 the bars of her prison, joyfully accepted the offer, and 
 rode out of Tutbury between two guards, and mounted, 
 for greater security, on a horse whose legs were hobbled. 
 These two guards escorted her to Fotheringay, where 
 she found the apartment which she was to occupy already 
 hung with black. Living, she had entered her tomb. 
 
 Babington and his accomplices had already been 
 executed. 
 
 Meanwhile Mary's two secretaries, Curie and Nane, 
 were arrested, and all her papers were seized and sent to 
 Elizabeth, who ordered the commissioners to reassemble 
 and proceed without delay with the trial of the prisoner. 
 They reached Fotheringay on the fourteenth of October,
 
 MARY STUART. 181 
 
 1586 ; the following morning they assembled in the 
 great hall of the castle and began their investigations. 
 
 Mary at first refused to appear before them, on the 
 ground that she did not admit their competence to be 
 her judges, as they were not her peers ; and she appealed 
 to the ancient laws of England, which had never afforded 
 her the slightest protection, but had invariably left her 
 at the mercy of those who were stronger than she. But 
 when she saw that the trial was proceeded with in her 
 absence, and that calumnious statements of all sorts 
 were presented to the tribunal, no one being there to 
 refute them, she decided to appear. 
 
 We quote the report of the two examinations to which 
 she was subjected, as transmitted by M. de BellieVre to 
 M. de Villeroy. M. de BellieVre, as we shall see later, 
 was an Envoy Extraordinary from Henry III. to 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 " The Queen of Scotland, having taken her place at 
 the end of the table in said hall, and said commissioners 
 being seated around her, began as follows : 
 
 " ' I do not consider that any one of you who are here 
 assembled is my equal, or competent to be my judge to 
 question me with reference to any charge. Therefore 
 what I do and say to you at this moment is of my own 
 free will, and I call God to witness that I am innocent 
 of the calumnious charges which have been brought 
 against me, and that my conscience is pure. A free 
 princess am I and born a Queen, responsible to none 
 save God, and to none save Him can I be called upon to 
 render an account of my actions. Therefore do I renew 
 my protest, so that my appearance before you may in 
 no way prejudice myself, nor the kings, princes, and 
 potentates, my allies, nor my son ; and I demand that 
 my protest be recorded and a copy thereof furnished me."
 
 182 MARY STUART. 
 
 Thereupon the Chancellor, who was one of the com- 
 missioners, replied, and protested against the protest; 
 he then ordered the commission under which they were 
 proceeding to be read to the Queen, a commission, he 
 said, based upon the laws and statutes of the kingdom. 
 
 To this Mary rejoined by a further protest to the 
 effect that the said laws and statutes were without force 
 as against her, because they were not intended to apply 
 to persons of her position. 
 
 The Chancellor's reply to this was that the com- 
 mission was instructed to proceed against her, even 
 though she refused to respond; and he declared that 
 they would have done so, in view of the fact that she 
 came within both provisions of the law, the conspiracy 
 having been formed not only in her interest, but with 
 her consent ; to which the Queen replied that such a 
 thought had never entered her mind. 
 
 Thereupon the letters which it was claimed that she 
 wrote to Babington were read to her, together with his 
 replies thereto. 
 
 Mary Stuart then declared that she never saw Bab- 
 ington, that she never had a conference of any sort 
 with him, that she never in her life received a single 
 letter from him, and that she defied any person in the 
 whole world to maintain the charge that she had ever 
 done aught that was prejudicial or hostile to the Queen 
 of England. Furthermore she reminded her judges 
 that, being so closely guarded, out of reach of intelli- 
 gence from the outside world, far away from her friends, 
 surrounded by her foes, and with no one to whom she 
 could look for advice, she certainly had no opportunity 
 either to take part in or give her assent to the intrigues 
 of which she was accused. She said that many people 
 wrote to her whom she did not know and that she
 
 MARY STUART. 183 
 
 received quantities of letters which came from she knew 
 not where. 
 
 Babington's confession was then read to her ; but she 
 replied that she did not know what he meant ; if Babing- 
 ton and his confederates really said such things they 
 were cowards, forgers and liars. 
 
 "Since you say that I wrote to Babington," she 
 exclaimed, " show me my handwriting and my signature, 
 and not false copies like these which you have filled full, 
 at your leisure, of whatever falsehoods it pleased you to 
 put in them." 
 
 Thereupon they showed her the letter which Babing- 
 ton, as they said, wrote to her. She glanced over it 
 and said : 
 
 " I know nothing of this letter." 
 
 Next they showed her her alleged reply thereto and 
 again she said : 
 
 " Nor do I know anything of this. If you will show 
 me a letter, written and signed by myself, containing 
 what you claim, I will agree to everything, but hitherto, 
 as I have said, you have produced nothing worthy of 
 notice nothing but pretended copies of your own in- 
 vention, to which you have added whatever it seemed 
 good to you to add from time to time." 
 
 With that she rose and continued, with the tears roll- 
 ing down her cheeks : 
 
 "If I ever consented to this or any other similar 
 intrigue, the object of which was the death of my sister, 
 I pray that God will have neither compassion nor pardon 
 for me. I confess that I wrote to several persons, beg- 
 ging them to come to my assistance and deliver me from 
 my wretched captivity, for I have been languishing in 
 prison, a captive, ill-used princess, these nineteen years 
 and seven months ; but it never even came to my mind
 
 184 MARY STUART. 
 
 to write or to wish such things against the Queen. Yes, 
 and I also admit that I did what I was able to do 
 to secure the release of several persecuted Catholics, and 
 if I had been able then, or were able now to ensure 
 their safety and save them from punishment, I would 
 have done it and would do it now, so far as my ability 
 might extend." 
 
 She turned to Secretary Walsingham. 
 
 " My Lord," she said, " the moment that I saw you in 
 this place I knew whose hand dealt the blow ; you have 
 always been my bitterest enemy, and my son's, and you 
 have prejudiced everybody against me." 
 
 Thus accused to his face, Walsingham rose. 
 
 " Madame," he replied, " I declare before God, who is 
 my witness, that you are in error and that I have done 
 nothing against you unworthy of a man of honor and 
 integrity, either in my private capacity or as a public 
 servant." 
 
 This was all that was said and done on this first day ; 
 on the following day the Queen was again brought 
 before the commissioners, and, having taken her seat at 
 the end of the table with the commissioners around her 
 as before, she began thus, in a loud, firm voice : 
 
 " You are well aware, my Lords and gentlemen, that 
 I am a sovereign Queen, anointed and consecrated in 
 the house of God, and that I neither can nor should, for 
 any cause whatsoever, be summoned to your presence nor 
 made to stand at your bar, to be tried according to these 
 laws and statutes which you put forward, for I am a 
 free-born princess, and owe no more to any prince on 
 earth than he owes me ; and with regard to all this of 
 which I am accused against my said sister, I cannot 
 reply properly unless I am allowed the assistance of my 
 counsel. If you proceed, do your worst ; but from all
 
 MARY STUART. 185 
 
 your judgments I enter my appeal to Almighty God, 
 who is the only just and infallible judge, and to the 
 kings and princes who are my allies and my peers." 
 
 This protest was also recorded, as she demanded. 
 
 She was then informed that she had written several 
 letters to all the princes of Christendom, crying out 
 against England and England's Queen. 
 
 " As for that," Mary replied, " it is another matter ; 
 I do not deny it, and if it were to be done again, I would 
 do it, as I did before, in furtherance of my desire for 
 freedom ; nor is there any man or woman in the world, 
 even of those lower in rank than I, who would not do 
 as much, and would not resort to the assistance of their 
 friends to obtain their release from captivity so hard as 
 mine. You base an accusation against me upon certain 
 letters of Babington ; I do not deny that he wrote to 
 me and that I replied ; but if you find in my reply one 
 single word as to the Queen, my sister, then I admit the 
 justice of this proceeding against me. He wrote that 
 he would set me at liberty, and I replied that I would 
 accept his offer if he could carry out his plan without 
 compromising either of us ; that is all. 
 
 " As to my secretaries, they did not speak, but the 
 torture to which they were subjected spoke with their 
 tongues. Nor is there much reliance to be placed upon 
 the confessions of Babington and his confederates, for, 
 now that they are dead, you can put what words you 
 please in their mouths ; let him believe you who will." 
 
 The Queen refused to make any further reply unless 
 she was allowed counsel, and withdrew to her apartment 
 after renewing her protest. But the trial went on in 
 her absence, as the Chancellor had threatened. 
 
 Meanwhile M. de Chateauneuf, French Ambassador 
 at London, was too close to headquarters to be deceived
 
 186 MARY STUART. 
 
 as to the goal to which affairs were tending. Conse- 
 quently at the first news which reached him of Mary's 
 being placed on trial, he wrote to King Henri III., 
 urging him to intervene in behalf of the prisoner. 
 Henri at once sent an extraordinary embassy to Eliza- 
 beth, headed by M. de Bellievre. At the same time, 
 having been informed that James VI., Mary's son, 
 instead of interesting himself in his mother's fate, had 
 replied to Courcelles, the French Ambassador at his 
 court, when he ventured to speak to him of her : " I 
 can do nothing ; let her drink the draught she poured 
 out for herself; " Henri III. wrote Courcelles the follow- 
 ing letter, instructing him to spur the young prince on to 
 second him in the steps he proposed to take. 
 
 21st November, 1586. 
 
 " COURCELLES : I have received your letter of the 
 4th of October, and have read therein the observations 
 of the King of Scotland in response to what you said to 
 him of my earnest affection for him observations which 
 tend to show that he is disposed to reciprocate that 
 feeling; but I would have been glad if your letter 
 contained any indication that he was more kindly 
 disposed toward the Queen, his mother, and that his 
 heart prompted him to arrange matters in such way as 
 to assist her in her present affliction, for the fact that 
 she has been unjustly imprisoned eighteen years and 
 more ought to induce him to lend a willing ear to the 
 many schemes which have been proposed to secure her 
 freedom a thing which is naturally desired by all men, 
 and more than all by those who are born of sovereign 
 race, and to rule over other men. He ought also to 
 consider that if my good sister the Queen of England 
 hearkens to the counsels of those who wish that she
 
 MARY STUART. 187 
 
 should stain her hands with Queen Mary's blood, it will 
 redound to his lasting dishonor, especially as the univer- 
 sal judgment of mankind will be that he refused to give 
 his mother the benefit of his good offices with the said 
 Queen of England, as he should have done; for his 
 representations might have been sufficient to move her, 
 if he had chosen to make them as pressing as his filial 
 duty would seem to require. Furthermore, it is greatly 
 to be feared that, when his mother is dead, his turn will 
 soon come, and the design will be formed to put him out 
 of the way by violent means, in order to make it a 
 simpler matter for those who are on the spot to assert 
 their claims to the English succession after Elizabeth's 
 death, and not only to defraud the King of Scotland of 
 his rightful claim thereto, but to cast suspicion upon his 
 right to his own crown. I cannot say in what plight my 
 said sister-in-lavrs's affairs may be when you receive this 
 letter ; but I will say this, that in any event I desire 
 that you should do your utmost, by urgent remonstrance 
 and in every other way which occurs to you, to arouse 
 the said King of Scotland to exert himself to defend 
 and protect his mother ; and that you should say to him 
 from me that, as it is something for which, should he do 
 it, he will be enthusiastically commended by all other 
 kings and sovereign princes, so he must bear in mind 
 that if he fail in this duty he will be severely blamed, 
 and the result may well be very disastrous to his own 
 interests. As to my own affairs, you will learn from 
 this that the Queen, my mother, is soon to meet the 
 King of Navarre and confer with him with a view to 
 compose the disorders of this realm ; if his affection for 
 me is as great as mine for him, I hope that affairs will 
 soon be brought to a satisfactory conclusion, and that 
 my subjects will have some respite from the greivous ills
 
 188 MARY STUABT. 
 
 which necessarily result from a civil war. I pray the 
 Creator, Courcelles, that he will have you in his holy 
 keeping. 
 
 "Done at Saint-German-en-Laye the 21st day of 
 November, 1586." 
 
 " Signed, HENRI. 
 
 " Countersigned, BRULART." 
 
 This letter at last aroused James VI. to make a feeble 
 demonstration in his mother's behalf, and he sent the 
 Master of Gray, Robert Melville and Sir William Keith 
 to Queen Elizabeth. But although Paris was farther 
 from London than Edinburgh, the French envoys 
 arrived there in advance of the Scottish ones. It 
 should be said, that when M. de Bellievre reached 
 Calais on November 27th he found there an express from 
 M. de Chateauneuf urging him not to lose an instant, 
 and in order to anticipate every possible obstacle, the 
 Ambassador had chartered a vessel, which was lying in 
 the harbor, ready to weigh anchor at a moment's notice. 
 Despite their anxiety to make all possible haste, how- 
 ever, the ambassadors were obliged to await the good 
 pleasure of the wind, which did not permit them to put 
 to sea until Friday, the 28th, at midnight ; and when 
 they reached Dover at nine o'clock the following morn- 
 ing, they were so prostrated by seasickness that they 
 were fain to abide a whole day in that town to recuper- 
 ate. Not until Sunday the 30th, therefore, did M. de 
 Bellievre set out for London, in the coach provided for 
 him by M. de Chateauneuf through M. de Braucaleon, 
 accompanied by the gentlemen of his suite upon post 
 horses. However, they made up for lost time by mak- 
 ing few and brief halts upon the road, and finally 
 reached London on Monday, December 1, at midday.
 
 MARY STUABT. 189 
 
 M. de BelliSvre at once sent one of his suite, one M. 
 de Villiers, to the court, which was then at Richmond ; 
 the judgment had been secretly rendered six days be- 
 fore, and submitted to Parliament, who were discussing 
 it with closed doors. 
 
 The French Ambassador could not have chosen a less 
 auspicious moment to approach Elizabeth. To gain 
 time, she refused to receive M. de Villiers, sending word 
 to him that he would understand the reasons for her 
 action the next day. When the next day came, the 
 report was generally current in London that two mem- 
 bers of the French embassy had died of the plague at 
 Calais, and that, for that reason, however desirous she 
 might be to oblige Henri III., the Queen could not ex- 
 pose her precious existence to the risk of contagion by 
 receiving his envoys. 
 
 M. de Bellievre's astonishment when he heard of this 
 report, was unbounded ; he declared that the Queen had 
 been misled by a false and malicious rumor, and insisted 
 upon being received. Nevertheless, he was put off for 
 six days more ; but as he threatened to wait no longer, 
 but to start for home, and as Elizabeth was disturbed by 
 the attitude of Spain, and, all things considered, was not 
 anxious to embroil herself with France, she sent word to 
 M. de Bellievre in the morning of December 7, that she 
 would be ready to receive him and his associates at 
 Richmond Castle in the afternoon. 
 
 At the appointed time the French ambassadors pre- 
 sented themselves at the palace gates, and were ushered 
 into the Queen's presence. They found her seated upon 
 her throne, and surrounded by the most eminent of her 
 subjects. MM. de Chateauneuf and de Bellidvre, the 
 former being the regular Ambassador, and the latter an 
 Envoy Extraordinary, thereupon saluted her in the name
 
 190 MARY STUART. 
 
 of the King of France, and began by delivering the 
 remonstrances which they were instructed to deliver. 
 
 Elizabeth replied, not only in the French tongue, but 
 in most exquisite language ; she allowed her passionate 
 earnestness full sway, as she pointed out to the envoys 
 of her brother Henri that the Queen of Scotland had 
 always beset her, and that this was the third time that 
 she had attempted her life, by a variety of means, all 
 of which she had endured with too much patience ; but 
 that nothing in her whole life had ever wounded her so 
 deeply as this last conspiracy, which, she added sadly, 
 had cost her more sighs and tears than the loss of all 
 her nearest and dearest friends. It was especially sad- 
 dening to her, she said, because the Queen of Scotland 
 was so nearly related to herself, as well as to the King 
 of France. As MM. de Chateauneuf and de Belli&vre 
 in their remonstrance had cited several examples drawn 
 from history, she resumed her customary tone of pedan- 
 try when she came to reply to that portion of their 
 harangue, and said that she had seen and read many 
 books in her life, more, indeed, than the majority of 
 women of her rank were accustomed to do, but that she 
 had never found in all her reading one solitary instance 
 of a deed like that which had been planned against her, 
 planned, too, by her own kinswoman, whom the King, 
 her brother, could not and should not sustain in her 
 villainy, since it was his plain duty to hasten the punish- 
 ment which was her due. Then she addressed herself 
 particularly to M. de Bellievre, laying aside her lofty air 
 and assuming a gracious expression ; she said that she 
 deeply regretted that he was not accredited to her on a 
 more cheerful occasion ; that in a few days she would 
 transmit her reply to her brother Henri, as to whose 
 health she expressed great solicitude, as well as that of
 
 MARY STUART. 191 
 
 the Queen-mother, who must, she said, be thoroughly 
 exhausted by her labors in restoring peace to her son's 
 realm. She then withdrew to her private apartments, 
 and put an end to the audience. 
 
 The envoys returned to London and there awaited the 
 promised reply ; but while they were so employed, they 
 learned through a secret channel that sentence of death 
 had been pronounced upon Mary, and at once deter- 
 mined to return to Kichmond and remonstrate further 
 with the Queen. After two or three profitless journeys 
 they were, at last, admitted for the second time to the 
 royal presence on the 15th of December. 
 
 The Queen did not deny that the sentence had been 
 pronounced, and it was very evident that she did not 
 propose to exercise her power to pardon, so M. de 
 Bellievre, considering that his duties were at an end, 
 demanded his passports. Elizabeth promised them to 
 him within two or three days. 
 
 On the Tuesday following, December 17, Parliament 
 was convoked at the Palace of Westminster, and then 
 and there proclamation was made that Mary Stuart was 
 condemned to death. Immediately thereafter the sent- 
 ence was read with great pomp and solemnity on all the 
 squares and street corners in London, whence it speedily 
 spread throughout the kingdom. All the bells were 
 rung for twenty-four hours, and strict orders were issued 
 to every citizen to light a bonfire in front of his house, 
 as the custom is in France on the eve of St. John the 
 Baptist's day. 
 
 Amid the clangor of the bells, and in the glare of the 
 bonfires, M. de Bellievre determined to make one last 
 effort, so that he might have no occasion to reproach 
 himself, and wrote the following letter to Queen Eliza- 
 beth:
 
 192 MARY STUART. 
 
 " MADAME : We left your Majesty yesterday expect- 
 ing, as you were graciously pleased to promise us, that 
 we should within a few days receive your reply touching 
 the prayer of our good master, your brother, in behalf 
 of the Queen of Scotland, his sister-in-law and ally. 
 But as we have been advised this morning that the 
 sentence pronounced against the said Queen has been 
 publicly proclaimed throughout the city of London, 
 although we based other hopes upon your clemency and 
 your good friendship for our Lord-King in order to be 
 in no wise remiss in our duty, and believing that we 
 shall thereby carry out the wishes of the King, our 
 master, we determined to indite these presents to you. 
 And we do hereby again humbly implore your Majesty 
 not to refuse to grant his Majesty's most urgent and 
 most affectionate prayer, that it may please you to spare 
 the life of the said Queen of Scotland, which our Lord 
 the King will receive as the greatest favor your Majesty 
 could bestow upon him; just as, on the other hand, 
 nothing could occur which would cause him greater 
 displeasure, or wound him more deeply, than the pro- 
 posed rigorous treatment of the said Queen, she being 
 what she is. And, Madame, as the said King, our 
 master, your good brother, when he accredited us to 
 your Majesty in this behalf, did not deem it possible 
 that such a denouement could be reached so speedily, we 
 most humbly implore you, Madame, before the final step 
 is irrevocably taken, to allow us sufficient time in which 
 to advise him of the plight of the said Queen of Scot- 
 land, so that, before your Majesty comes to a final 
 determination in the matter, you may know what his 
 Most Christian Majesty may be pleased to say to you by 
 way of remonstrance, concerning the most important 
 affair which has been submitted to the judgment of
 
 MARY STUART. 193 
 
 men, within our memory. Monsieur de Saint-Cyr, who 
 will hand this to your Majesty will bring us, I trust, a 
 favorable response. 
 
 " London, the 16th day of December, 1586. 
 
 " Signed, DE BELLIEVRE, 
 
 " DE L'AuBESPiNE CHETEAUNEUF." 
 
 On the same day M. de Saint-Cyr, and the other 
 French gentlemen repaired to Richmond with the letter. 
 But the Queen declined to receive them, excusing her- 
 self on the ground of a slight indisposition, and they 
 were compelled to hand their letter to Walsingham, the 
 Secretary of State, who promised to send the Queen's 
 reply the next day. 
 
 In the face of that promise the French gentlemen 
 were made to wait two days ; but at last, towards even- 
 ing of the second day, two English gentlemen called 
 upon M. de Belli&vre at London, and without exhibiting 
 anything in writing to confirm what they said, informed 
 him verbally on the Queen's behalf, that in reply to 
 their letter, and to indulge the wish they expressed 
 therein for a reprieve, so that they might communicate 
 the sentence to the King of France, her Majesty con- 
 sented to respite the condemned for twelve days. 
 
 As this was Elizabeth's ultimatum, and it was useless 
 to waste time in further efforts, M. de Genlis was at once 
 despatched to King Henri III. with instructions to sup- 
 plement the long despatch of MM. de Chateauneuf and 
 de Bellievre by telling the King verbally all that he 
 had seen and heard relative to Queen Mary's affairs 
 during his stay in England. 
 
 Henri III. immediately replied with a letter contain- 
 ing fresh instructions for MM. de Chateauneuf and de 
 Bellievre, but although he used the utmost diligence 
 
 Vol. IV. 13.
 
 194 MARY STUART. 
 
 M. de Genlis did not reach London until the fourteenth 
 day, forty-eight hours, that is to say, after the expiration 
 of the reprieve granted by Elizabeth. Nevertheless, as 
 the sentence had not been carried out, MM. de Chateau- 
 neuf and de Bellievre set out at once for Greenwich, 
 about a league from London, where the court was in 
 residence for the Christmas holidays, with the purpose 
 of requesting an audience, at which they could transmit 
 to her Majesty their King's reply. For four or five 
 days they met with no success, but as they refused to be 
 discouraged and returned again and again to the charge, 
 they were at last summoned to the Queen's presence. 
 
 They were, as on the previous occasion ushered in 
 with all the formalities of the etiquette then in vogue, 
 and found Elizabeth awaiting them in the audience 
 chamber. The ambassadors approached and saluted her, 
 and M. de BelliSvre began to remonstrate with her in 
 his master's name, respectfully and, at the same time 
 with firmness. Elizabeth listened impatiently, moving 
 restlessly about in her arm-chair. At last she could 
 contain herself no longer ; she rose, her cheeks flaming 
 red with anger, and burst forth : 
 
 "Monsieur de Bellievre, am I to believe that you 
 really have it in charge from the King, my brother, to 
 use such language to me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Madame," M. de Bellievre replied, bowing, " I 
 have his express commands so to do." 
 
 " Have you them in writing and signed by his hand ? " 
 
 "Yes, Madame," the ambassador replied, still with 
 perfect coolness, "the King, your brother, expressly 
 instructed me by letters signed with his own hand to 
 address to your Majesty the remonstrance which I have 
 had the honor to address to you." 
 
 " In that case," cried Elizabeth, giving free rein to
 
 MARY STUART. 195 
 
 her passion, " I demand that you furnish me with a copy 
 of such letters attested with your own hand, and be sure 
 that you will answer for every word which you add to 
 or subtract from them." 
 
 " Madame," Bellivre rejoined, " it is not the practice 
 of the kings of France or their agents to falsify letters 
 or other documents, and to-morrow morning you shall 
 have the copies you require; upon my honor I will 
 answer for their accuracy." 
 
 " Enough, Sir, enough ! " exclaimed the Queen ; she 
 motioned to all those who were present to leave the 
 room, and remained nearly an hour closeted with MM. 
 de Chateauneuf and de Bellidvre. No one knows what 
 took place at that interview, except that the Queen 
 undertook to send an ambassador to the King of France, 
 and promised that he would be at Paris as soon as M. 
 de Bellidvre, if not in advance of him, and would be 
 the bearer of her final decision as to the affairs of the 
 Queen of Scotland. Elizabeth then withdrew, giving 
 the French envoys to understand that any further efforts 
 they might make to see her would be of no avail. 
 
 On the thirteenth of January the ambassadors re- 
 ceived their passports, and at the same time were informed 
 that a ship of war was awaiting them at Dover. 
 
 On the very day of their departure a strange thing 
 happened. A gentleman named Stafford, brother of the 
 English ambassador to France called upon M. de 
 Trappes, an attache" of the French embassy in London, 
 and told him that he knew of a man in prison for debt 
 who had something of the utmost importance to com- 
 municate to him, and in order to arouse his interest more 
 certainly he added that this something was connected 
 with the service of the King of France, inasmuch as it 
 related to the concerns of Queen Mary of Scotland.
 
 196 MARY STUART. 
 
 M. de Trappes, although he looked with suspicion upon 
 the overture at first, did not wish to have any reason to 
 reproach himself for negligence in a matter of such 
 urgency in case his suspicions should prove to be ill- 
 founded. He therefore went with Stafford to the prison 
 where the man who wished to speak with him was detained. 
 When they met, the prisoner said to him that he was 
 imprisoned for a debt of twenty crowns only, and that 
 his longing for freedom was so great that if M. de 
 Chateauneuf chose to pay that sum for him he would 
 undertake to rescue the Queen of Scotland from her 
 present peril by stabbing Elizabeth. M. de Trappes, 
 who saw the trap that was set for the Ambassador, 
 expressed his unbounded astonishment at the suggestion, 
 and said that he was sure that M. de Chateauneuf 
 would be horrified at the thought of any plot which 
 included an attempt of any sort upon Elizabeth's life, 
 or the slightest disturbance of the tranquillity of her 
 kingdom. He refused to listen to anything further, but 
 returned to M. de Chateauneuf and related to him all 
 that had taken place. Immediately the Ambassador, 
 who was not deceived as to the real cause of this pro- 
 ceeding, said to M. Stafford that it seemed most extra- 
 ordinary to him that a gentleman, as he was, should 
 dare to suggest such disgusting treason to another gen- 
 tleman, and requested him to leave the embassy instanter 
 and never to set foot within its walls again. Stafford 
 thereupon withdrew and, pretending to believe that he 
 was a lost man, begged M. de Trappes to allow him to 
 cross the Channel with him and the French envoys. M. 
 de Trappes referred this request to M. de Chateauneuf, 
 who sent word to Stafford that he not only forbade him 
 his house, but all communication of any sort with any 
 member of the legation, so that he could see that his
 
 MARY STUART. 197 
 
 request could not possibly be granted. He added that 
 if he were not restrained by his regard for the Earl of 
 Stafford, his fellow diplomat, he would denounce him on 
 the instant to Elizabeth. 
 
 The same day Stafford was arrested. 
 
 After this incident M. de Trappes set out to overtake 
 his companions, who had the start of him by some hours. 
 Just as he arrived at Dover he was arrested and taken 
 back to London where he was cast into prison. 
 
 He was questioned the same day and narrated every- 
 thing that had taken place without reservation, appealing 
 to M. de Chateauneuf to confirm what he said. 
 
 On the following day he was questioned a second time, 
 and great was his amazement when, in answer to his 
 request that his replies of the preceding day should be 
 read to him, they produced, according to the custom of 
 English courts, only fabricated copies, which contained 
 statements compromising M. de Chateauneuf as well as 
 himself. He cried out at this and entered a formal 
 protest, refused to make any further answers, or to sign 
 anything more, and was taken back to the Tower with 
 ostentatious precautions intended to give the impression 
 that he was held on a serious charge. 
 
 The next day M. de Chateauneuf was summoned 
 before the Queen and was confronted with Stafford, who 
 impudently insisted that the Ambassador was concerned 
 in a conspiracy with M. de Trappes and a certain prisoner 
 for debt, and that the conspiracy aimed at nothing less 
 than the Queen's life. M. de Chateauneuf denied the 
 allegation with much heat and indignation ; but Elizabeth 
 was too deeply interested in not being convinced to 
 allow the strongest evidence to convince her. She 
 informed M. de Chateauneuf that nothing but the im- 
 munity incident to his position as ambassador saved him
 
 198 MARY STUART. 
 
 from being arrested like his confederate M. de Trappes. 
 She at once made good her promise to send an ambassa- 
 dor to Henri III., but he was instructed not to explain 
 the judgment which had been rendered, and the 
 execution which was soon to follow, but to charge M. de 
 Chateauneuf with complicity in a plot, the discovery of 
 which was the only thing which could have determined 
 her to consent to the death of the Queen of Scotland ; 
 but it had finally convinced her that her own existence 
 would be threatened every hour, so long as her enemy 
 was alive. 
 
 Elizabeth lost no time in taking measures to spread, 
 not in London alone, but throughout England, the report 
 of the latest peril she had escaped ; so that when the 
 Scotch ambassadors, who, as will be seen, had not 
 traveled over-fast, reached London two days after the 
 departure of the Frenchmen, the Queen replied to them 
 that their request for clemency was particularly ill-timed, 
 as she had but just acquired convincing proof that her 
 own life was in danger while Mary Stuart lived. 
 
 Robert Melville essayed to reply, but Elizabeth lost 
 her temper, and said that it was he who gave the King 
 of Scotland the bad advice to exert himself in his 
 mother's behalf and that if she had such an adviser she 
 would have him beheaded. 
 
 To this Melville replied that he would never refrain 
 from offering his master good advice even at the risk of 
 his life, and that it would be more just to say that the 
 man who would advise a son to let his mother be put to 
 death without a protest deserved beheading. 
 
 At that Elizabeth ordered them to withdraw, and said 
 she would communicate her reply to them. 
 
 Three or four days passed and, as they heard nothing 
 further, they requested another audience to learn the
 
 MARY STUART. 199 
 
 final decision of the Queen to whom they were accredited. 
 She decided to grant their request, and the interview, as 
 in M. de Bellidvre's case, consisted largely of complaints 
 and recrimination. At last Elizabeth asked them what 
 assurance they would give her that her life would be 
 secure if she should consent to pardon the Queen of 
 Scotland. 
 
 The envoys replied that they were authorized to 
 promise, in the name of the King of Scotland, their 
 master, and all the nobility of his realm, that Mary 
 Stuart would renounce in favor of her son, all her rights 
 to the English crown, and that she would furnish the 
 King of France, and all her relatives and friends among 
 the princes and nobles, as sureties for the due fulfillment 
 of her promise. 
 
 At that reply the Queen forgot her customary pres- 
 ence of mind, and exclaimed : 
 
 " What do you say, Melville ? Why, that would be 
 to arm my enemy with a twofold claim, whereas he now 
 has but a single one." 
 
 "Pray, does your Majesty regard the King, my 
 master, as your enemy ? " said Melville ; " he believed 
 that he was more fortunate, Madame, and that he was 
 your ally." 
 
 " No, no," said Elizabeth, blushing ; " that's a mere 
 figure of speech, and if you will find a way to recon- 
 cile everything, gentlemen, I am ready to err on the side 
 of clemency to prove to you that I look upon King 
 James as my good and trusty friend ; so do you seek a 
 means of adjustment, and I for my part will do my 
 best to find one." 
 
 With those words she left the room, and the ambassa- 
 dors withdrew with a faint spark of hope kindled within 
 their breasts.
 
 200 MA.BY STUART. 
 
 On the evening of that day a gentleman from the 
 court called upon the Master of Gray, the chief of the 
 embassy, apparently with no other than a social purpose, 
 and said to him in the course of conversation that it 
 was very difficult to reconcile Queen Elizabeth's safety 
 with the life of her prisoner ; and, furthermore, that if 
 the Queen of Scotland should be pardoned and either 
 she or her son should ever sit upon the throne of 
 England there would be no security for the nobles who 
 had voted for death as members of the extraordinary 
 tribunal ; that there was but one way of adjusting the 
 matter, namely, that the King of Scotland should 
 renounce his own claim to the crown of England ; 
 otherwise Elizabeth could never venture to spare Queen 
 Mary's life with a due regard to her own safety. 
 
 Gray, gazing earnestly into his face, asked him if 
 his sovereign had instructed him to make that sugges- 
 tion to him. The gentleman disclaimed any authority 
 in the premises and said that it was entirely his own 
 idea, and was put forward by way of advice only. 
 
 Elizabeth accorded a final interview to the Scottish 
 envoys, on which occasion she said to them that she 
 had considered the matter from every point of view, 
 but as she could not devise any way by which her own 
 life could be assured if she were to spare the life of the 
 Queen of Scotland, she was unable to grant their 
 request. 
 
 Gray replied that if that were her final decision, his 
 orders in that contingency required him to say that they 
 formally protested in King James' name that the entire 
 proceeding against his mother was void and of none 
 effect because Queen Elizabeth could have no jurisdic- 
 tion over one who was a queen like herself, and her 
 equal in birth and rank ; and therefore they declared
 
 MARY STUART. 201 
 
 that immediately upon their return, and when their 
 master had learned from their lips the result of their 
 mission, he would assemble his Parliament and would 
 send messengers to all the princes in Christendom to 
 concert measures with them to avenge her whom they 
 had failed to save. 
 
 Thereupon Elizabeth flew into a passion once more ; 
 she said that they certainly were not commissioned by 
 their King to hold such language to her ; but they at 
 once offered to furnish her with the protest in writing 
 and signed by them. Elizabeth replied that she would 
 send an ambassador to arrange all that with her good 
 friend and ally, the King of Scotland. The envoys 
 then told her that their master would listen to no one 
 until they had returned, whereupon she requested them 
 not to be in haste to take their leave, as she had not as 
 yet arrived at an irrevocable determination in the 
 matter. 
 
 In the evening following this audience, Lord Highley 
 called upon the Master of Gray, and commented admir- 
 ingly upon a handsome pair of pistols of Italian 
 manufacture. As soon as he took his leave Gray handed 
 the pistols to the nobleman's cousin and requested him 
 to take them to him with his compliments. The young 
 man was highly pleased with the commission, and went 
 at once to the royal palace, where his kinsman had 
 apartments, to deliver the gift which was entrusted to 
 him. He was hardly within the outer doors when he 
 was arrested and searched and the weapons found upon 
 him. Although they were not loaded, he was at once 
 arrested, but instead of taking him to the Tower, they 
 imprisoned him in his own room. 
 
 The next day it was currently reported that the Scot- 
 tish King's ambassadors had taken their turn at planning
 
 202 MARY STUART. 
 
 to asasssinate the Queen, and that pistols furnished by the 
 Master of Gray himself were found upon the would-be 
 murderer. 
 
 Bad faith was so obtrusively apparent in this perform- 
 ance, that the Ambassadors could no longer close their 
 eyes to it. They were finally convinced that they could 
 do nothing for poor Mary Stuart, so they abandoned her 
 to her fate, and started for Scotland the next day. 
 
 Directly they were gone, Elizabeth sent Davison, her 
 secretary, to Sir Amyas Paulet. He was instructed to 
 sound him anew with regard to his prisoner. The Queen 
 was terrified, in spite of herself, at the thought of a 
 public execution, and recurred to her original idea of 
 poison or assassination; but Sir Amyas Paulet vowed 
 that no person except the executioner should be ad- 
 mitted to Mary's presence, and that even he must be 
 provided with a warrant drawn in proper form. 
 
 Davison reported his reply to Elizabeth, who stamped 
 her foot impatiently as she listened, and when he had 
 done could not contain her wrath. 
 
 " God's death ! " she cried ; " what a scrupulous villain 
 is this, who prates incessantly of his fidelity, and refuses 
 to prove it ! " 
 
 It was necessary that Elizabeth should at last come to 
 some decision. She asked Davison for the warrant ; he 
 presented it to her, and she signed it without the least 
 indication of emotion, forgetting that she was herself 
 the daughter of a queen who died on the scaffold. 
 Having ordered the great seal of England to be affixed, 
 she said, with a laugh : 
 
 " Go and say to Walsingham that all is over for poor 
 Queen Mary, but break it to him gently, for he is ill, 
 and I fear the shock may kill him." 
 
 The pleasantry was the more brutal in that Walsingham
 
 MARY STUART. 203 
 
 was well known to be the most inveterate enemy of 
 the Queen of Scotland. 
 
 Toward evening of the same day, which was Satur- 
 day, Mr. Beale, Walsingham's brother-in-law, was sum- 
 moned to the palace. The Queen handed him the death- 
 warrant, and with it an order addressed to the Earls 
 of Shrewsbury and Kent, and other noblemen and gentry 
 whose estates were in the neighborhood of Fotheringay 
 to attend at its execution. Beale took with him the 
 executioner from London, whom Elizabeth had ordered 
 to be dressed in black velvet for this great function, and 
 set out two hours after he received his orders. 
 
 For two months past Queen Mary had been aware of 
 the finding of the commissioners. On the day when 
 their judgment was rendered, she was informed of it by 
 her chaplain, who was permitted to see her but that one 
 time. Mary profited by his visit to hand him three 
 letters which she wrote on the spot one to Pope Sixtus 
 V., one to Don Bernardo Mendoza, and the third to the 
 Due de Guise. This last-mentioned letter was in these 
 words: 
 
 "4th of December, 1586. 
 
 " My good cousin, dearer to me than any one else in 
 the world : this is to bid you farewell, for I am on the 
 point of being put to death by virtue of an unjust 
 judgment, and such a death as no one of our race, 
 thank God, has ever suffered. But, my good cousin, 
 praise the Lord, for I am of no use in this world to the 
 cause of God and His Church, prisoner as I am, where- 
 as, on the other hand, I hope that my death will bear 
 witness to my constancy in the faith, and my willingness 
 to suffer for the maintenance and restoration of the 
 Catholic religion in this ill-fated island. And, although
 
 204 MARY STUART. 
 
 no executioner has ever dipped his hand in our blood, 
 be not ashamed, my dear cousin, for the judgment of 
 heretics, who have no jurisdiction over me, a free Queen, 
 will be of profit in God's sight to the children of His 
 Church. If I would consent, however, to what they 
 propose, I should not suffer this blow. Our whole 
 family has been persecuted by these fanatics, witness 
 your own good father, through whose interposition I hope 
 to receive forgiveness at the hands of the Almighty 
 Judge. I commend my poor servants to your kindness, 
 and request you to pay my debts, and to provide for a 
 yearly obit for the repose of my soul, not at your own 
 expense, but by contributions and royal ordinance, as 
 you will feel called upon to do when you are advised of 
 my intentions by my unfortunate and devoted servants, 
 who will witness the last act of the tragedy of my life. 
 May God prosper you and your wife and children, 
 brothers and cousins, and especially the head of our 
 family, my good brother and cousin. May the blessing 
 of God be upon your children whom I commend to His 
 loving care, no less earnestly than my own son, unfor- 
 tunate and maltreated as he is. You will receive certain 
 rings from me which will remind you to pray God for 
 the soul of your poor cousin, who is without assistance 
 or counsel, other than that of the Lord, who endows her 
 with strength and courage to stand alone and face a mob 
 of ravening wolves. To God be the glory. 
 
 " I particularly request you to put implicit faith in 
 what will be said to you by a person who will hand you 
 a ring of rubies from me ; for I take it upon my con- 
 science to say that he will tell you the truth as to the 
 matter which I have entrusted to him, and especially 
 that portion which relates to my poor servants, and the 
 interests of one of them. I commend that person to
 
 MARY STUART. 205 
 
 you for her sincerity, simple mindedness, and integrity, 
 hoping that some fitting place may be provided for her. 
 I have selected her as the most impartial of all my ad- 
 herents, and the one who will convey my wishes to you in 
 the plainest and simplest terms. Let nobody know, I beg, 
 that she has talked with you privately, for the resultant 
 jealousy would inevitably be her ruin. I have suffered 
 bitterly for two years and more, but have not been able 
 to let you know for a very important reason. God be 
 praised for all His works, and give you grace to persevere 
 in the service of the Church so long as you live, and may 
 our family never lose the honorable distinction of being 
 always ready, women as well as men, to shed our blood 
 in fighting the battles of the faith, leaving all worldly 
 considerations aside. As for myself, I esteem that my 
 birth, both on my father's and my mother's side, makes 
 it encumbent upon me to offer my blood in that behalf, 
 and I have no intention of failing in my duty. Jesus 
 who was crucified for us, and all the noble army of 
 martyrs will, by their intercession, make us worthy to 
 offer our earthly bodies as a voluntary sacrifice to His 
 glory. 
 
 " Thinking to humble me they cut down my dais, and 
 my keeper afterward came and offered to write to the 
 Queen, saying that it was not done at his behest, but by 
 the advice of some of the council. I showed them the 
 Cross of our Blessed Lord upon the dais instead of our 
 royal arms. You will hear the whole story ; they have 
 been more mild in their treatment since. 
 
 " Your loving cousin and devoted friend, 
 
 " MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTLAND 
 
 AND DOWAGER OP FRANCE."
 
 206 MARY STUART. 
 
 From the day on which she learned of the judgment 
 rendered by the commissioners, Mary had abandoned all 
 hope, as she knew that naught could save her but Eliza- 
 beth's pardon she gave herself up for lost, and thought 
 only of making preparations for death. The cold and 
 dampness of the various prisons in which she had been 
 confined had so affected her that she was at times almost 
 paralyzed in all her limbs, and she was haunted by the 
 fear that she might be in that condition when they came 
 to fetch her at the last moment, so that she would be 
 unable to walk to the scaffold with a firm and resolute 
 step, as she proposed to do. So she sent for Bourgoin 
 her physician, told him that she had a strong presenti- 
 ment that her death was imminent, and asked him what 
 she must do to prevent a return of the rheumatic pains 
 which paralyzed her strength. He replied that it would 
 be well for her to purge herself with fresh herbs. 
 
 "Go then," said the Queen, "and ask Sir Amyas 
 Paulet from me to allow you to go out into the fields 
 and gather them." 
 
 Bourgoin went down to Sir Amyas, who was himself 
 a great sufferer from sciatica, and on that account the 
 more likely to appreciate the urgency of the Queen's 
 need. But the request, simple as it was, met with many 
 obstacles. Sir Amyas said that he could do nothing 
 without referring the matter to his colleague Drury, but 
 that he would send for ink and paper, and Master Bour- 
 goin could then make a list of the herbs which he re- 
 quired, and they would try to procure them for him. 
 
 Bourgoin replied that he was not sufficiently familiar 
 with English, and the village apothecaries did not know 
 enough Latin for him to risk the Queen's life on the 
 chance of an error on his part, or theirs. At last after 
 endless hesitation Paulet permitted Bourgoin to go out,
 
 MARY STUART. 207 
 
 and he did so, accompanied by the apothecary Gorjon. 
 The next day the Queen entered upon the treatment 
 suggested. 
 
 The Queen's forebodings were but too well justified ; 
 on Tuesday, February 17, about two in the afternoon, 
 the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury, and Beale sent word 
 to the Queen that they desired to speak to her. The 
 Queen replied that she was ill and in bed, but that, if 
 what they had to say to her was of serious consequence, 
 and they would give her a little time, she would rise. 
 They replied that the communication which they had to 
 make admitted no delay, and that they therefore begged 
 her to receive them, whereupon she at once rose, slipped 
 on a morning dress, and took her seat by a small table, 
 where she was accustomed to pass a great part of each 
 day. 
 
 The two Earls, accompanied by Beale, Amyas Paulet 
 and Drew Drury, entered the room. Behind them came 
 her favorite maids and confidential servants, attracted by 
 curiosity born of an agony of dread. There were Renee 
 de Really, Giles Maubray, Jane Kennedy, Elspeth Curie, 
 Mary Paget, and Susan Kercady, and Dominique Bour- 
 goin, her physician, Pierre Gorjon, her apothecary, 
 Jacques Gervais, her surgeon, Annibal Stewart, her 
 valet, Didier Sifflart, her butler, Jean Lauder, her 
 pantler, and Martin Huet, her steward. 
 
 The Earl of Shrewsbury, removing his hat, as did all 
 those who were in the room, who stood with their heads 
 bare while they were in the Queen's presence, then ad- 
 dressed Mary in English as follows : 
 
 " Madame, the Queen of England, my august mistress, 
 has sent me to you with the Earl of Kent and Sir Rob- 
 ert Beale here present, to make you to know that, after an 
 impartial and exhaustive investigation of the delict of
 
 208 MARY STUART. 
 
 which you have been accused and found guilty, the 
 results of which investigation have already been sub- 
 mitted to your Grace by Lord Buckhurst, and having 
 delayed the execution of the sentence to the last possible 
 moment, she can no longer resist the importunity of her 
 subjects, who in their great and affectionate fear for her 
 safety, are urging her to cause the sentence to be exe- 
 cuted. To that end we have come, Madame, bearers of 
 a commission, and we humbly beseech you to be pleased 
 to listen to the reading thereof." 
 
 " Bead on, my Lord, I listen," said Mary, perfectly 
 calm. 
 
 Robert Beale thereupon unfolded the commission, 
 which was written on parchment and sealed with a great 
 seal of yellow wax, and read as follows : 
 
 " Elizabeth, by the grace of God, Queen of England, 
 France and Ireland, to our trusty and well-beloved 
 cousins, George, Earl of Shrewsbury ; Henry, Earl of 
 Kent ; Henry, Earl of Derby ; George, Earl of Cum- 
 berland, and Henry, Earl of Pembroke."* 
 
 " Greeting : 
 
 " In view of the sentence pronounced by us and the 
 members of our council, nobles and judges, against the 
 former Queen of Scotland, bearing the name of Mary, 
 daughter and heiress of James the Fifth, King of Scot- 
 land, and commonly called Queen of Scotland and 
 Dowager of France, which sentence all the states of our 
 kingdom in our last Parliament assembled, not only rati- 
 fied, but after mature deliberation declared to be just 
 and reasonable; and in view likewise of the urgent 
 prayer and request of our subjects, entreating us to take 
 
 *The Earls of Cumberland, Derby and Pembroke did not obey the 
 Queen's commands, and were not present at the reading of the sentence, 
 nor at its execution.
 
 MARY 8TUABT. 209 
 
 measures for the publication thereof, and for its execu- 
 tion upon her person inasmuch as they deem her to have 
 fully merited her fate, adding that her detention is, and 
 would continue to be a source of daily peril, not to our 
 life alone, but to themselves and their posterity, and to 
 the public welfare of this kingdom, as well in the matter 
 of the Gospel and the true religion of Christ, as for the 
 peace and tranquillity of the realm, and remonstrating 
 against farther delay on our part in granting a commis- 
 sion to execute said sentence ; in order amply to satisfy 
 the prayers of our Parliament, by whom we are informed 
 every day that all our loyal subjects, as well of the no- 
 bility, than whom no advisers could be wiser and more 
 devoted, as of those of humbler condition, out of their 
 humble and affectionate solicitude for our life, and con- 
 sequent dread of the destruction of the present divinely 
 happy state of the realm, if we fail to execute said 
 sentence, do consent to, and desire its execution, although 
 the general and constant requests, entreaties and advice 
 urge us in a direction contrary to our natural inclina- 
 tion, nevertheless, being well persuaded of the weight 
 of their continual representations, as tending to the 
 security of our person, and likewise that of every 
 inhabitant of our kingdom ; we have at last consented 
 and given order that justice be done, and for the execu- 
 tion of said Mary. And considering our entire confi- 
 dence in your fidelity and loyalty, and especially of 
 your devoted affection for our person and our common 
 country, of which you are noble and worthy ornaments, 
 we do command and enjoin you, upon sight hereof, to 
 repair to Fotheringay Castle, where the said Queen of 
 Scotland now is, in the keeping of our friend, and 
 trusty servant and adviser, Sir Amyas Paulet, and there 
 to take custody of the said Queen of Scotland, and see 
 
 Vol. IV. 14.
 
 210 MABY STUART. 
 
 to it that by your command execution is done upon her 
 person in presence of yourselves and of Sir Amyas 
 Paulet, and of such other officials as you shall order to 
 be present ; in witness whereof, and that said execution 
 may be carried out in such manner and form, at such 
 time and place, and by such persons as you five, four, 
 three, or two shall, in your discretion, deem meet, all 
 laws, statutes and ordinances to the contrary notwith- 
 standing, we have caused the Great Seal of England to 
 be affixed to these presents, which shall be full and 
 sufficient warrant forever for you and each of you, and 
 for all who shall be present or shall do by your com- 
 mand aught pertaining to the execution of said sentence. 
 " Done at our Palace of Greenwich, the first day of 
 February (February 10, new style), in the twenty- 
 ninth year of our reign." 
 
 Mary listened to the reading with the utmost tran- 
 quillity and queenly dignity ; when it was at an end 
 she said, crossing herself: 
 
 " Thrice welcome be aught that comes in the name of 
 God ! I thank Thee, O Lord, for that Thou dost deign 
 to put an end to all the ills Thou hast seen me suffer for 
 nineteen years and more." 
 
 " Madame," said the Earl of Kent, " be not offended 
 with us because of your condemnation ; it was essential 
 for the tranquillity of the State and the spread of the 
 new religion." 
 
 " In that case," cried Mary, joyfully, " it will be my 
 blessed lot to die for the faith of my fathers ; in that 
 case God deigns to accord me the glory of martyrdom. 
 I thank Thee, O my God," she added, clasping her 
 hands with less excitement, but more pious fervor, " I 
 thank Thee for that Thou dost deign to permit me to
 
 MARY STUART. 211 
 
 end my life in such a way, which I was not worthy to 
 do. That, O my God, is truly a proof that Thou dost 
 love me, and an assurance that Thou dost receive me 
 in the number of Thy servants ; for, although the sentence 
 had been communicated to me, I was greatly afraid, in 
 view of the manner in which I have been treated for 
 nineteen years, that I might not be so near as I am to a 
 blissful ending of my life; for I thought that your 
 Queen would not dare to lay her hand upon me, who 
 am, by God's grace, a queen like herself, like herself 
 the daughter of a king, consecrated like herself, her 
 nearest relative, too, and like herself, a grand-daughter 
 of King Henry VII., and who have had the honor of 
 being Queen of France, of which kingdom I am still 
 Queen Dowager. My fear on this point was the greater," 
 she added, placing her hand upon a New Testament 
 which lay upon the little table by her side, " because I 
 swear upon this holy book that I have never sought, 
 consented to, or even desired the death of my sister, the 
 Queen of England." 
 
 " Madame," rejoined the Earl of Kent, taking a step 
 toward her, and pointing to the Testament, " that book 
 upon which you swore is not true, for it is the popish 
 version ; and no more weight is to be attached to your 
 oath than to the book upon which it is sworn." 
 
 " My Lord," retorted the Queen, " what you say may 
 be conclusive to your mind, but not to mine, for I know 
 that this book is a true and faithful translation of the 
 word of God, made by a very learned doctor and godly 
 man and approved by the Church." 
 
 "Madame," Kent replied, "your Grace's mind has 
 been formed on the instruction you received in your 
 youth, and you have never inquired for yourself as to 
 what is good or bad. It is not surprising, therefore,
 
 212 MARY STUART. 
 
 that you have clung to your error through lack of 
 having ever listened to any one competent to tell you the 
 truth. For that reason, as your Grace has but a few 
 hours to remain in the world and, consequently, no time 
 to lose, we will, with your permission, send for the Dean 
 of Peterborough, the most learned of living men in 
 religious matters. His words will prepare you for your 
 salvation, which you are now endangering to our great 
 sorrow and that of our august Queen, by all these papist- 
 ical follies and abominations and childish antics, which 
 debar Catholics from the Holy Word of God, and from 
 knowledge of the truth." 
 
 " You are wrong, my Lord," the Queen mildly replied, 
 " if you think that I grew to womanhood indifferent to 
 the faith of my fathers, and without bestowing much 
 serious thought upon a matter of such vast consequence 
 as religion. On the other hand my life has been passed 
 with students and learned men, who have given me all 
 needful instruction in that direction, and I have feasted 
 my mind upon their works since I have been bereft of 
 the privilege of listening to them. During my whole 
 life I have never doubted for one instant, and it is not 
 at this hour of my death that my soul will be oppressed 
 with doubt for the first time. The Earl of Shrewsbury, 
 here present, will tell you that at the time of my com- 
 ing to England I passed one whole Lenten season, which 
 I now repent having done, listening to your most learned 
 doctors, without being in the slightest degree impressed 
 by their arguments. It would, therefore, be altogether 
 useless, my Lord," she added with a smile, " to send for 
 the Dean of Peterborough, however learned he may be. 
 The only favor I have to ask at your hands, my Lord 
 and I shall be most grateful if it be granted is that 
 you will kindly send to me my chaplain, who is kept
 
 MARY STUART. 213 
 
 imprisoned in this castle, to comfort me and prepare me 
 to meet death ; or, if that is impossible, any other priest, 
 it matters not whom, though it be the poor curate of a 
 poor village, for I am no harder to please than God, and 
 I do not ask that he have learning, if only he have faith." 
 
 " It is with deep regret, Madame," said Kent, " that 
 I am compelled to refuse your Grace's request, but it 
 would be contrary to our religion and our conscience, 
 and we should lay ourselves open to grave reproach. 
 For that reason we once more suggest the venerable 
 Dean of Peterborough, being certain that your Grace 
 will derive more comfort and satisfaction from him than 
 from any bishop, priest, or vicar of the Catholic faith." 
 
 " Thanks, my Lord," the Queen rejoined, " but I care 
 for no other, and as my conscience is not stained with 
 the crime for which I am to die, martyrdom, with God's 
 help, will take the place of confession. And now I will 
 venture to remind you, my Lord, of your own sugges- 
 tion, that I have but a few hours to live ; those few 
 hours, if they are to be made of profit to me, should be 
 passed in prayer and meditation, and not in fruitless 
 discussion." 
 
 With that she rose and, with a courteous salute to the 
 two earls, Robert Beale, Paulet, and Drury, she signi- 
 fied by a dignified wave of the hand that she wished to 
 be left alone and at peace. As they were about to take 
 their leave, she said : 
 
 " Apropos, my Lords, at what hour am I to prepare 
 for death?" 
 
 " To-morrow about eight o'clock, Madame," stammered 
 the Earl of Shrewsbury. 
 
 " 'Tis well," said Mary ; " but have you no reply for 
 me from my sister Elizabeth to a letter which I wrote 
 to her about a month since."
 
 214 MARY STUART. 
 
 "To what did the letter relate, Madame, by your 
 leave? " asked the Earl of Kent. 
 
 " To my funeral and interment, my Lord ; I asked to 
 be buried in France, in the cathedral at Rheims, beside 
 the late Queen, my mother." 
 
 " That cannot be, Madame. But do not disquiet your- 
 self concerning all these details ; the Queen, my august 
 mistress, will make suitable provision therefor. Has 
 your Grace any further request to make ? " 
 
 " I would be glad to know," said Mary, " if my ser- 
 vants will be permitted to return to their own countries 
 with the pittance I may be able to give them, which will, 
 in any event, be but an inadequate return for the length 
 of time they have passed in my service, and the long 
 imprisonment they have endured because of me." 
 
 " We have no authority to answer for that, Madame," 
 said Kent, " but we think that your desire will govern 
 in this as in other respects. Is this all that your Grace 
 desires to say to us ? " 
 
 " Yes, my Lord," said the Queen, saluting a second 
 time, " and you may now withdraw." 
 
 " One moment, my Lords ; in heaven's name, one 
 moment ! " cried the aged physician, leaving the ranks 
 of the servants, and throwing himself at the feet of the 
 two earls. 
 
 " What do you want ? " demanded Lord Shrewsbury. 
 
 " To impress upon you, my Lords," replied Bourgoin, 
 weeping; "how brief is the time that you allow the 
 Queen for a matter of such importance as this of pre- 
 paring for death. Consider, my Lords, the rank which 
 this woman whom you have condemned has held among 
 the princes of the earth, and whether it is kind and 
 decent to treat her like any common culprit of low 
 estate. And if not for the sake of this noble Queen,
 
 MARY STUART. 215 
 
 my Lords, let it be for our sakes, her unhappy servants, 
 who, having had the honor of living with her so many 
 years, cannot part from her so suddenly and without 
 time for preparation. Consider this also, my Lords, that 
 a woman of her rank and condition should have some 
 time in which to arrange her affairs. What will become 
 of her and us, in God's name, if our dear mistress has 
 no time before dying to put her accounts in order, and 
 arrange her papers. She has services to pay for, and 
 pious works to provide for, and she will be compelled to 
 neglect one or the other. We know that she will give 
 all her time to our matters, and thus, my Lords, she will 
 neglect her own spiritual welfare. Pray grant her a few 
 days more, my Lords ; as our mistress is too proud to ask 
 such a favor for herself, I ask it, in the names of us all, 
 and implore you not to refuse to a few poor servants a 
 favor which your august Queen certainly would not 
 refuse if they could have the honor of laying their 
 petition at her feet." 
 
 " Is it true, Madame," Robert Beale inquired, " that 
 you have not yet made your will ? " 
 
 " I have not, Sir," the Queen replied. 
 
 " In that case, my Lords," said Beale, " it would per- 
 haps be well to grant her a few days' respite." 
 
 " Impossible, Sir," replied Lord Shrewsbury, " the time 
 is fixed and we have no right to change it even by one 
 minute." 
 
 " Enough, Bourgoin, enough," said the Queen ; "I 
 command you to rise." 
 
 Bourgoin obeyed, and Shrewsbury turned to Sir 
 Amyas Paulet, who was behind him. 
 
 " Sir Amyas," he said, " we place this woman in your 
 hands ; you will look well to her and keep her safely 
 until our return."
 
 216 MARY STUART. 
 
 With these words he left the room, followed by Kent, 
 Beale, Paulet and Drury, and the Queen was left with 
 her retainers. 
 
 She turned to her women with a countenance as 
 serene as if the approaching crisis were of the most 
 trivial importance. 
 
 "Well, Jane," she said to Kennedy, "did I not 
 always tell you, and did I not know perfectly well that 
 their real purpose was to do just what they have done, 
 and that I could see throughout their manreuvres the 
 real end to which they were tending, and that I was too 
 great an obstacle to the progress of their false religion 
 to be allowed to live ? Come," she continued, " let supper 
 be served at once, so that I may put my affairs in 
 order." 
 
 She saw that her servants, instead of obeying her, 
 stood weeping and lamenting. " My children," she said, 
 with a sad smile, but without a tear in her eye, " this is 
 no time for weeping, far from it ; for, if you love me, 
 you should rejoice that the Lord, in allowing me to die 
 for His cause, relieves me from the tortures I have 
 undergone for nineteen years. For my own part, I 
 thank Him for according me the privilege of dying for 
 the glory of His religion and His Church. Let every 
 one take patience therefor, and while the men make 
 ready the supper, we women will pray to Him." 
 
 The men at once went out, weeping and sobbing, and 
 the Queen and her women fell on their knees. When 
 they had repeated several prayers, Mary rose, and send- 
 ing for such money as she still possessed, she counted it 
 and divided it into a number of portions, which she 
 placed in separate purses, with the name of the persons 
 for whom they were intended written in her own hand. 
 
 Soon supper was served and she took her place at
 
 MARY STUART. 217 
 
 table with her women as usual, the other servants stand- 
 ing behind their chairs, or going in and out. Her 
 physician waited upon her as he had been in the habit 
 of doing since they sent away her maitre d'hotel. She 
 ate neither more nor less than usual, speaking much, 
 during the meal, of the Earl of Kent, and the manner 
 in which he had betrayed his zeal for the new religion 
 by his eagerness to furnish her with a professor of that 
 religion instead of a priest. 
 
 " Fortunately," she said, laughingly, " it would have 
 needed a more clever casuist than he to induce me to 
 change my faith." 
 
 Meanwhile Bourgoin was weeping behind the Queen, 
 for he was reflecting that it was the last time he should 
 wait upon her, and that at that hour on the morrow she 
 who was now eating and talking and laughing would be 
 naught but a cold and lifeless corpse. 
 
 When the repast was ended, the Queen called all her 
 retainers, and before anything was taken from the table, 
 poured out a cup of wine, rose, and drank their healths, 
 coupling therewith a request that they would drink to 
 her salvation. A glass was thereupon handed to each 
 of them ; and they all knelt where they stood, so says the 
 narrative from which we take these details, and drank 
 as she requested, mingling their tears with the wine, and 
 craving her forgiveness if they had offended her in 
 aught. 
 
 The Queen granted it with all her heart, and begged 
 them to do as much for her, and to forget her impatient 
 and testy moods, which she asked them to attribute to 
 her captivity. She then discoursed to them at consider- 
 able length, explaining their duty to God, and exhort- 
 ing them to hold fast to the Catholic faith ; and she 
 urged them, when she should be no more, to dwell
 
 218 MARY STUART. 
 
 together in peace and charity, forgetting all their trivial 
 dissensions of the past. 
 
 When she had said all that she had to say, she rose 
 from the table intending to go down to her dressing- 
 room to look over the clothing and jewelry which she 
 had to dispose of ; but Bourgoin suggested that it would 
 be much better if she ordered everything brought to her 
 bedroom, for that course would save her considerable 
 fatigue, and would prevent the English from spying. 
 This last argument convinced the Queen, and while her 
 servants were taking their supper she had in the first 
 place all her dresses brought to the ante-room, took the list 
 of them from the hands of her valet, and began to write 
 opposite each article the name of the person for whom 
 she intended it. That person at once took the article in 
 question and laid it aside. Those things which were of 
 such nature that they could not well be given away 
 thus, she ordered to be sold, and the proceeds used to 
 pay the expenses of her servants when they should 
 return to their respective homes, for she knew that their 
 expenses would be heavy, and that none of them had 
 means to defray them. When she had gone through 
 the list in this way she wrote her name at the foot 
 of it, and handed it to her valet, as a sign that he 
 might go. 
 
 She then entered her bedroom, whither all her rings, 
 trinkets and most valuable ornaments had been taken, 
 looked them all over carefully, even to those of the 
 least value, and distributed them just as she did the 
 dresses, so that every one, whether present or absent, 
 received something. She also entrusted to her most 
 trusted servitors the jewels which were destined for the 
 King and Queen of France, for her son the King of 
 Scotland, for the Queen-mother, and for MM. de Guise
 
 MARY 8TUART. 219 
 
 and de Lorraine ; not one of all her royal kindred, male 
 or female, did she overlook. 
 
 She expressed a desire, furthermore, that each of her 
 servants should retain such articles as were properly in 
 his or her care ; that the linen, for instance, should go 
 to the maid who looked after it, her embroidery to the 
 one who had it in charge, the silver plate to her butler, 
 and so through the list. 
 
 When they asked her to give them their discharge, 
 she said that it would be useless to them. 
 
 "You are responsible to none but me, and so after 
 to-morrow you will be responsible to no one." 
 
 But when they reminded her that the King, her son, 
 might put forward a claim to their services, she admitted 
 the force of the argument and gave them what they 
 asked. 
 
 As she had no hope of being allowed to receive a visit 
 from her confessor, she wrote him the following letter : 
 
 " I have been harassed all day because of my reli- 
 gious belief, and have been urged to receive ministrations 
 of a heretic. You will learn from Bourgoin and the 
 others that all that was said to me on the subject was 
 absolutely without effect, and that I did not cease to 
 assert my fealty to the faith in which I propose to die. 
 I asked that you might be permitted to receive my con- 
 fession, and administer the sacrament, but my request 
 was unkindly refused, as well as my further request that 
 my body should be taken to France, and that I be 
 allowed to make my will without hindrance, so that I 
 can write nothing except with their hands, and subject 
 to the good pleasure of their mistress. 
 
 " As I am not permitted to see you, I here confess my 
 sins to you in general, and not specifically as I would 
 otherwise have done, and I beseech you, in God's name,
 
 220 MARY STUART. 
 
 to watch and pray with me this night, to help me atone 
 for my sins, and to send me absolution, and your forgive- 
 ness for whatever wrong I may unwittingly have done 
 you. I will try to see you in their presence, as I am to 
 be allowed to see my maitre d'hotel, and if I am success- 
 ful I will ask your blessing on my knees before them all. 
 Send me the most fervent and comforting prayers that 
 you know for to-night and to-morrow morning, for my 
 time is but short, and I have not the leisure to write. 
 Have no fear that I will not recommend you as I do my 
 other servants ; your livings will certainly be assured 
 to you. 
 
 "Adieu, for I can spare no more time. Send me in 
 writing all that you are able to find in the way of prayers 
 and exhortations, the best fitted to secure my salvation. 
 I send you my last little ring." 
 
 No sooner had she written the last word in this letter, 
 than she began to write her will, and almost without 
 lifting her pen from the paper she covered two large 
 sheets. No one was forgotten, whether present or absent, 
 and she distributed the little that she had with most 
 scrupulous impartiality, paying heed rather to the needs 
 of the beneficiaries than to their services. The execu- 
 tors selected by her were the Due de Guise, her cousin 
 gennan, the Archbishop of Glasgow, her Ambassador, 
 the Bishop of Ross, her first chaplain, and M. de Ruys- 
 seau, her chancellor, all four being eminently proper 
 selections for the position, the first because of his rank 
 and influence, the two bishops because of their high 
 standing as pious, conscientious men, and the fourth, 
 because of his knowledge of the world. 
 
 When her testament was drawn to her satisfaction, 
 she wrote thus to the King of France :
 
 MARY STUART. 221 
 
 " Monsieur, my brother-in-law : 
 
 " Having, by God's will, and for my sins, probably, 
 thrown myself into the clutches of this Queen, my 
 cousin, where I have suffered much from weariness of 
 spirit for twenty years past, I have been at last sen- 
 tenced to death by her and her parliament. Having 
 asked for my papers (taken from me by them) in order 
 to make my will, I failed to recover anything which is 
 of use to me, nor could I obtain so small a thing as per- 
 mission to write down my last wishes freely, nor the 
 promise that after my death my body should be taken, 
 as I very earnestly desire, to your kingdom, of which I 
 once had the honor to be Queen, I, your sister and your 
 ally. This very day, after dinner, my sentence, to be 
 executed to-morrow morning at eight o'clock, like a 
 common criminal, was read to me without any pretence 
 of respect. 
 
 " I have not time to narrate to you fully all that has 
 taken place ; but if you deign to listen to my physician, 
 and to others of my heart-broken servants, you will hear 
 the truth, that with God's help, I scorn death, which I 
 protest that I am to suffer, innocent of any crime, even 
 had I been a subject of this realm which I never was. 
 However, my adherence to the Catholic faith, taken in con- 
 nection with my claim to the English throne, is the real 
 cause of my condemnation, and yet they will not allow me 
 to say that I die for religion's sake, for my religion is 
 too much for theirs. This is so true that they have 
 taken my chaplain from me, and although he is 
 imprisoned in this same castle they will not allow him to 
 visit and comfort me, or administer the holy sacrament ; 
 but, on the other hand, they have been most persistent 
 in pressing me to receive the ministrations of one of 
 their ministers whom they brought here for that purpose.
 
 222 MARY STUART. 
 
 The bearer of this letter, as well as the rest of my 
 servitors, the larger part of whom are your subjects, will 
 bear witness of the way in which I performed this last 
 duty. 
 
 " It remains for me now to beseech you, as the Most 
 Christian King, as my brother-in-law and long-time 
 ally, who have often protested your affection^for me, to 
 demonstrate that affection by your virtue and charity in 
 relieving my conscience of the burden of which I can- 
 not relieve it without your assistance, that is to say in 
 rewarding my faithful, heart-broken servants, over and 
 above their wage ; and more than that, in causing pray- 
 ers to be offered for a Queen who has been called the 
 Most Christian Queen, and who dies a true Catholic, 
 bereft of all her means. So far as my son is concerned 
 I commend him to your affectionate care if he deserves 
 it, but my servants I commend to you unreservedly with 
 all my heart. I have ventured to send you two stones 
 which possess rare virtues for the health, desiring as I 
 do that you may enjoy perfect health for many years to 
 come ; pray receive them from your dying sister-in-law, 
 as a token of her deep affection for you. 
 
 " I will provide my servants with a letter for you. 
 For the salvation of my soul, in whose behalf it will be 
 expended, I trust that you will order a part of your 
 indebtedness to me to be paid ; I conjure you to do so 
 by the honor of Jesus Christ, to whom I will pray to- 
 morrow on the scaffold that you may furnish me with 
 the wherewithal to endow an obit, and to bestow the 
 necessary alms. 
 
 " Wednesday, two o'clock after midnight." 
 " Your affectionate sister, 
 
 " MARIE R. ."
 
 MARY STUART. 223 
 
 The Queen had copies made at once of all these var- 
 ious documents, including her will, and signed them all, 
 so that if the originals fell into the hands of her keepers 
 the others might still reach their destination. Bourgoin 
 suggested that it was inadvisable to be in such haste to 
 finish and seal them, as it was very possible that in the 
 course of two or three hours she might think of some- 
 thing that she would like to add. But Mary did not 
 adopt the suggestion, for she said that she was sure that 
 she had forgotten nothing, and even if she had, she had 
 no time left for anything but prayer and searching her 
 conscience. She placed all her belongings in the drawers 
 of a wardrobe, and handed the key to Bourgoin. A 
 foot-bath was then brought her, and she remained in it 
 for about ten minutes, and then went to bed, but not 
 apparently to sleep, for her attendants observed that she 
 was constantly repeating prayers, with brief intervals 
 of rapt meditation. 
 
 She had long been in the habit of having one of her 
 women read to her the story of some saint, after her 
 evening devotions, and she chose not to depart from 
 that practice on this occasion. After hesitating which 
 of several to choose at such a crisis, she chose the 
 greatest sinner of all, the thief who was crucified with 
 Christ. 
 
 " For all he was so great a sinner," she said humbly, 
 " his sins were less heinous than mine, and so I will pray 
 to him to remember the passion of Jesus Christ, and 
 have pity upon me, even as our Blessed Lord had pity 
 upon him." 
 
 When the reading was at an end she asked to have all 
 her handkerchiefs brought to her, and selected the most 
 beautiful one among them, which was of the finest cam- 
 bric, embroidered with gold, for a bandage for her eyes.
 
 224 MARY STUART. 
 
 At daybreak, having but two hours more to live, she 
 rose and began to dress ; but before she was fully dressed 
 Bourgoin came in and begged Mary to send for all of her 
 retainers who were not present the night before, and 
 read her will over to them, because he feared that other- 
 wise some of them might, if they chanced to be disap- 
 pointed with its contents, accuse those who were present 
 of having influenced the Queen to increase their portions 
 at the expense of their absent fellows. 
 
 The Queen at once adopted his suggestion ; she sent 
 for all her servitors and read her will to them, saying 
 that it was her voluntary act, that it fully expressed her 
 wishes, and was written throughout and signed with 
 her own hand ; she therefore begged them all to do all 
 that lay in their power to secure its execution without 
 omission or change. Every one of them gave the 
 promise she asked, and she then handed it to Bourgoin, 
 charging him to place it in the hands of M. de Guise, 
 her principal executor, together with her letters to the 
 King, and her most important papers. Then she asked 
 for the casket wherein she had placed the purses of 
 which we spoke above, and opened them one after 
 another ; and as she saw by the slip she had placed in 
 each for whom it was intended, she passed it to that 
 person with her own hand, no one of the recipients 
 knowing what the purse contained. The gifts varied 
 from twenty to three hundred crowns, no one receiving 
 less than the smaller nor more than the larger of those 
 amounts. 
 
 To these sums she added seven hundred pounds to be 
 given to the poor two hundred to those in England 
 and five hundred to those in France, and to each man 
 in her suite she gave two rose nobles to be distributed in 
 alms at his discretion. Lastly, she gave a hundred and
 
 MARY STUART. 225 
 
 fifty crowns to Bourgoin, to be divided among them all 
 when they separated. 
 
 Thus some twenty-six or twenty-seven persons re- 
 ceived remembrances in money. 
 
 The Queen did all these various things with perfect 
 serenity and without the slightest change of expression ; 
 indeed, it was as if she were simply preparing for a 
 journey or a change of abode. She took leave of her 
 servants once more, with words of cheer, enjoining them 
 to live at peace with one another, and all the while she 
 was completing her toilet and doing her best to make 
 herself as beautiful as possible. 
 
 When her toilette was made she went from her bed- 
 room to the ante-room, where there was a covered altar 
 at which her chaplain was accustomed to say mass before 
 she was deprived of his services. She knelt upon the 
 steps, surrounded by all her servants and began the 
 prayers of the communion service. She then took from 
 a golden box a wafer consecrated by Pope Pius V., 
 which she had preserved with the greatest care to be 
 used at her death ; she passed it to Bourgoin and bade 
 him perform the functions of priest, as he was the oldest 
 of her servitors, and age is a venerable and holy thing. 
 Thus, in the face of all the pains taken to deprive her 
 of that consolation, did the Queen receive the blessed 
 sacrament of the Lord's Supper. 
 
 Upon the conclusion of this ceremony, Bourgoin 
 informed the Queen that in making her will she had 
 forgotten three persons, Mademoiselle Beauregard, 
 Mademoiselle de Montbrun, and her chaplain. Mary 
 was greatly surprised at her forgetfulness, which was 
 altogether unintentional, and at once inserted her wishes 
 in their regard upon the first blank space in her will. 
 Then she knelt again, and resumed her prayers, but 
 
 VoL IV.-16.
 
 226 MARY STUART. 
 
 almost immediately rose again as she found the kneeling 
 posture a very painful one. Bourgoin sent for a little 
 bread and wine, and she ate and drank. When she had 
 done, she gave him her hand and thanked him for being 
 present, as usual, at her last earthly repast. Having 
 thus renewed her strength, she knelt again to pray. 
 
 She had no more than begun when some one knocked 
 at her door. Mary realized what it meant, but as she 
 had not finished her devotions, she begged them who 
 had come for her to wait an instant, and promised to be 
 ready in a very short time. 
 
 The Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury, recalling the 
 resistance she had made when she was required to go 
 before the commissioners, ordered a number of guards 
 up into the ante-room, where they were awaiting, so that 
 they might be prepared to remove her by force if such 
 a course were made necessary by her own refusal to go 
 with them voluntarily, or by any movement on the part 
 of her friends to detain her. It is not true, however, 
 that the two noblemen insisted on entering her chamber, 
 as some writers have stated. They set foot in her 
 chamber but once, and that was when they came to read 
 her sentence to her on the occasion we have described. 
 
 They waited some minutes in accordance with the 
 Queen's request, but about eight o'clock they knocked 
 again, the guards being at their backs. To their great 
 surprise the door was opened at once, and they found 
 Mary still kneeling and praying. 
 
 Thereupon Sir Thomas Andrew, the then Sheriff of 
 Northamptonshire, entered alone with a white staff in 
 his hand, and as they all remained on their knees, he 
 walked slowly the whole length of the room and halted 
 behind the Queen. He stood there an instant and then 
 said, as Mary did not seem to see him :
 
 MARY 8TUART. 227 
 
 " Madame, I come from their Lordships." 
 
 At that the Queen at once rose to her feet, leaving 
 her prayer unfinished. 
 
 " Let us go," she said, and made ready to follow him ; 
 whereupon Bourgoin took down the ebony cross with a 
 Christ in ivory upon it from above the altar, and said 
 to her : 
 
 " Madame, do you not wish to take this little crucifix 
 with you ? " 
 
 "Thanks for the reminder," Mary replied ; " I intended 
 to take it, but had forgotten." 
 
 She gave it to Annibal Stewart, her valet, to be 
 passed to her at such time as she should ask for it, and 
 walked toward the door, leaning heavily upon Bourgoin, 
 because of severe pains in her legs. But when they 
 were near the door he suddenly withdrew his arm. 
 
 " Madame," he said, " your Majesty knows whether 
 we love you, and whether each one of us here present 
 would be glad to obey you, even should you command 
 us to die for you ; but I, for one, have not the courage to 
 support you farther ; nor, indeed, is it fitting that we, 
 who ought to defend you so long as we have a drop of 
 blood left to shed, should seem to betray you by deliver- 
 ing you thus into the hands of the infamous English." 
 
 " You are right, Bourgoin," said the Queen ; " and 
 then, too, my death would be a sad spectacle for you, 
 and one which I ought not to inflict upon your years 
 and your affection. Sir Sheriff," she added, " summon 
 some one to support me, for you see that I cannot walk." 
 
 The Sheriff bowed, and motioned to two guards, whom 
 he had secreted behind the door to lend him a hand in 
 case the Queen should resist, to draw near and support 
 her, which they instantly did. She then walked on, 
 preceded and followed by her servants, weeping and
 
 228 MARY STUART. 
 
 wringing their hands. But at the second door they 
 were stopped by other guards, who said that they could 
 go no farther. They cried out with one voice against 
 such an order, reminding the guards that they had for 
 nineteen years shared the Queen's imprisonment, and 
 had accompanied her wherever she went, and that it was 
 a terrible thing to deprive their mistress of their services 
 at the last moment of her life, and that the order was 
 issued doubtless for no other reason than to prevent 
 their witnessing some abominable torture which they 
 proposed to inflict upon her. 
 
 Bourgoin, who was at their head, seeing that neither 
 threats nor prayers were of the slightest avail, requested 
 speech of the Earls ; but that request received no more 
 attention than the previous ones, and when the servants 
 tried to force their way by, the guards beat them back 
 with the butts of their arquebuses. 
 
 "It is cruel of you," said the Queen, raising her 
 voice, " to forbid my servants following me, and I begin 
 to believe, as they do, that you have some evil design 
 upon me, aside from my death." 
 
 " Madame," the Sheriff replied, " four of your servants 
 are assigned to attend you, and no more ; when you have 
 gone down, those four will be sent for and will then join 
 you." 
 
 " What ! " the Queen exclaimed, " not even the four 
 persons assigned to that duty are allowed to follow me 
 now?" 
 
 "Such are the Earls' orders, Madame," the Sheriff 
 replied, " and to my great regret, I cannot depart from 
 them." 
 
 The Queen then turned to them and took the crucifix 
 from Annibal Stewart with one hand and with the other 
 her book of hours and her handkerchief.
 
 MARY STUART. 229 
 
 " My children," she said, " this is one more grief 
 added to the griefs we already have ; let us bear it like 
 Christians and offer this new sacrifice to Almighty God." 
 
 As she spoke, cries and sobs burst out on all sides ; 
 the wretched servants fell on their knees, and while some 
 rolled on the floor and tore their hair in their despair, 
 others kissed her hands and her feet, and the hem of her 
 dress, asking her forgiveness for anything that she 
 might have to reproach them for, calling her their 
 mother, and bidding her adieu. 
 
 But at last the Sheriff, thinking doubtless that the 
 scene had already lasted too long, waved his hand, 
 whereupon the guards thrust them all, men and women 
 alike, back into the room and closed the door upon 
 them ; but, even through the closed door, the Queen 
 could hear their cries and lamentations, which seemed 
 determined to go with her to the scaffold, despite the 
 guards. 
 
 At the top of the staircase the Queen found Andrew 
 Melville awaiting her ; he was her maitre d'hotel, who 
 had been long separated from her, and had succeeded 
 in obtaining leave to see her once more at the moment 
 of her death. The Queen quickened her pace as she 
 approached him, and knelt at his feet to receive his 
 blessing, which he gave her through his fast-flowing tears. 
 
 " Melville," she said, still kneeling, " be as faithful a 
 servant to my son as thou hast been to me ; go to him 
 immediately upon my death and describe it to him in all 
 its details; tell him that I wish him every earthly 
 blessing, and that I pray God to send down His Holy 
 Spirit upon him." 
 
 " Madame," Melville replied, " that is surely the sad- 
 dest mission with which a man could be entrusted ; but 
 no matter, I will faithfully execute it, I swear to you."
 
 230 MARY STUART. 
 
 " What sayest thou, Melville ? " rejoined the Queen, 
 rising ; " what better news, on the contrary, couldst thou 
 bear to him than that I am at last delivered from all my 
 suffering? Say to him that he ought to rejoice that the 
 woes of Mary Stuart are ended ; say to him that I die a 
 Catholic, steadfast in my faith, a true Scotchwoman and 
 a true Frenchwoman, and that I forgive those who are 
 responsible for my death. Say to him that it has always 
 been my wish that England and Scotland should be 
 united ; say to him finally that I have done nothing 
 which could injure his realm, nor prejudice his standing 
 as a sovereign prince. And so, my good Melville, fare- 
 well until we meet again in heaven." 
 
 Leaning on the arm of the old man, whose face was 
 bathed in tears, she descended the staircase and was 
 met at its foot by the two Earls, Lord Henry Talbot, son 
 of Lord Shrewsbury, Sir Amyas Paulet, Sir Drew 
 Drury, Robert Beale and many other gentlemen of the 
 county. She walked toward them without haughtiness, 
 but equally without humility, and complained that her 
 servants had been refused permission to accompany her, 
 at the same time renewing her request that such permis- 
 sion be granted. The Earls conferred together for a 
 moment, after which the Earl of Kent asked who they 
 were whose presence she desired, and said that she might 
 select six. 
 
 The Queen thereupon designated Bourgoin, Gorjon, 
 Gervais, and Didier among the men, and Jane Kennedy, 
 and Elspeth Curie among the women, they being her 
 especial favorites, although the last named was the sister 
 of the secretary who betrayed her. But at that point a 
 new difficulty arose, the Earls saying that the permission 
 did not extend to women, for women were not used to 
 such spectacles, and when they were admitted to them
 
 MARY 8TUAET. 231 
 
 they invariably made the welkin ring with their cries 
 and lamentations, and as soon as the axe had fallen, 
 darted to the scaffold to stanch the flow of blood with 
 their handkerchiefs, all of which was highly improper. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the Queen, " I will promise for 
 my servants that they will do none of these things 
 which your honors fear. Alas! poor creatures! they 
 will be very glad to bid me adieu, and I trust that your 
 mistress, a queen and a virgin, and therefore keenly 
 alive to the honor of her sex, gave you no such restricted 
 commission that you are not empowered to grant me the 
 trifling concession that I ask ; especially," she added, 
 with a most sorrowful accent, " as some little respect 
 should be shown to my rank. For I am the cousin of 
 your Queen, grand-daughter of Henry VII., Queen 
 Dowager of France and anointed Queen of Scotland." 
 
 The Lords thereupon conferred again for a moment, 
 and ended by granting her request. Two guards at 
 once went up to fetch the persons named. 
 
 Mary went on toward the main hall, supported by 
 two of Sir Amy as Paulet's suite, accompanied and fol- 
 lowed by the Earls and gentlemen, the Sheriff lead- 
 ing the procession, and Sir Andrew Melville carrying 
 her train. 
 
 Her toilette, upon which, as we have said, she had 
 bestowed all the care that she had it in her power to do, 
 consisted of a head-dress of fine cambric, trimmed with 
 lace, with a lace veil thrown back over her shoulder and 
 falling to the floor ; a mantle of black satin, lined with 
 black taffeta and trimmed in front with sable, with a 
 long train and flowing sleeves which hung down almost 
 to the floor ; the buttons were of jet in the shape of 
 acorns and surrounded with small pearls ; the collar was 
 cut d I'ltalienne. She wore a doublet of black -figured
 
 232 MARY STUART. 
 
 satin, and beneath it a waist of crimson satin, laced 
 behind, and trimmed with velvet of the same color. 
 Around her neck was a string of scented balls, with a 
 golden crucifix, and two rosaries hung at her girdle. In 
 such guise did she enter the great hall where the scaffold 
 was erected. 
 
 It was a wooden platform some two feet from the 
 floor, and twelve feet square, surrounded by a railing 
 and covered with black serge ; upon the platform were 
 a low stool, a cushion for her to kneel upon, and a 
 block, which was likewise covered with black cloth. As 
 she placed her foot upon the fatal planks after ascend- 
 ing the two steps, the headsman came to meet her, and 
 knelt upon one knee to ask her forgiveness for the act 
 he was about to perform, holding his axe behind him as 
 he did so ; but he did not succeed in hiding it from 
 Mary, who cried out as soon as she saw it : 
 
 " Ah, I would greatly have preferred to be beheaded 
 with a sword in the French fashion ! " 
 
 " It is not my fault, Madame," said the executioner, 
 " that this last wish of your Majesty may not be grati- 
 fied ; for I was not ordered to bring a sword," and find- 
 ing naught here but this axe, I must needs use it. Will 
 that prevent you forgiving me ? " 
 
 " I forgive you, my good fellow," said Mary, " and 
 see, I give you my hand to kiss." 
 
 Having put his lips to the Queen's hand, the man 
 rose and placed the stool beside her. Mary took her 
 seat upon it, the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury stood 
 at her left, the Sheriff and the headsman in front of her, 
 Sir Amyas Paulet behind, and outside the railing lords, 
 knights and gentlemen to the number of two hundred 
 and fifty or more. Beale then began to read for 
 the second time, the decree of condemnation. Just as
 
 MARY STUART. 233 
 
 he read the first words, those of the Queen's servants 
 who had been sent for, entered the hall, and took their 
 places behind the scaffold, the men standing on a bench 
 against the wall, and the two women kneeling in front 
 of the bench ; at the same moment a little spaniel, of 
 which the Queen was very fond, stole noiselessly upon 
 the platform as if he feared to be driven away, and lay 
 down beside his mistress. 
 
 Mary listened to the reading of the sentence some- 
 what listlessly, as if it concerned any other than herself, 
 and her expression throughout was as tranquil, yes, as 
 joyous as if it were a pardon, and not a death-warrant. 
 When Beale had read it through, and cried : " God save 
 Queen Elizabeth I " without evoking any response, Mary 
 crossed herself, and stood erect, with no change of coun- 
 tenance, except that she seemed lovelier than ever. 
 
 " My Lords," she said, " I was born a Queen, a sover- 
 eign princess, not subject to the laws nearly akin to 
 the Queen of England, and her lawful successor. I 
 have been long a prisoner in this land ; I have endured 
 here much suffering and much wrong, which no one had 
 the right to inflict upon me, and now, to crown it all, I 
 am to lose my life. Bear ye witness, my Lords, that I 
 die in the Catholic faith, praising God for that He per- 
 mits me to die in His sacred cause, and protesting to-day 
 as always, in public as in private, that I have never 
 conspired to bring about, consented to, or desired the 
 death of the Queen, nor any injury whatsoever to her 
 person ; but that I have, on the contrary, always loved 
 her, and have always offered her fair and reasonable 
 conditions upon which the discord which rends her king- 
 dom might be appeased, and I restored to liberty ; and 
 all this I have done my Lords, as you well know, with- 
 out having ever had the honor of receiving a reply from
 
 234 MARY STUART. 
 
 her. At last my enemies have achieved their purpose, 
 which was to compass my death ; I forgive them never- 
 theless, as I forgive all those who have plotted against 
 me, or wished me ill. After my death it will be known 
 who contrived it and persisted in bringing it to pass. 
 But I die with no accusation on my lips, lest the Lord 
 hear and avenge me." 
 
 Thereupon, whether because he feared that such an 
 harangue by so exalted and so lovely a woman might 
 have too great an effect upon the assemblage, or because 
 so many words caused too great delay, the Dean of 
 Peterborough took his stand in front of Mary, leaning 
 upon the barrier. 
 
 " Madame," he began, " my honored mistress bade me 
 come to you ." 
 
 He got no farther than this, when Mary turned and 
 broke in upon him : 
 
 " Sir Dean," she said firmly, " I have naught to do 
 with you ; I do not wish to listen to you, and I beg you 
 to desist." 
 
 " Madame," returned the Dean, persisting in the face 
 of her firm and clearly expressed determination, " you 
 have but an instant ; change your opinions, abjure your 
 false doctrines, and rest your faith on Jesus Christ alone, 
 that through Him you may be saved." 
 
 " All that you can say is of no avail," the Queen re- 
 plied, " and you will gain nothing by it ; cease your 
 speech, therefore, I beg you, and let me die in peace." 
 
 As she saw that he proposed to continue, she sat down 
 upon the other side of the stool, turning her back upon 
 him ; but the Dean at once made the circuit of the scaf- 
 fold until he was once more facing her. But when he 
 opened his mouth to speak, the Queen turned back to 
 position she first occupied.
 
 MARY STUART. 235 
 
 " Madame," then said the Earl of Shrewsbury, " I am 
 in despair to find that you are so wedded to the follies 
 of popery ; permit us to pray for you, we beg." 
 
 " If you choose to pray for me, my Lord," the Queen 
 replied, " I thank you, for your intention is kind ; but I 
 cannot join in your prayers, for we are not of the same 
 religion." 
 
 Thereupon the Earls called the Dean, and while the 
 Queen upon her stool was praying in an undertone, he 
 knelt upon the steps of the scaffold, and prayed at the 
 top of his voice, followed by the whole assemblage ex- 
 cept Mary and her servants. In the middle of her 
 prayer, which she was repeating with an Agnus Dei 
 around her neck, a crucifix in one hand, and her book 
 of hours in the other, she suddenly slid to the floor and 
 knelt there, praying aloud in Latin, while the others 
 were praying in English ; and when they paused, she 
 began in English, so that they might understand her, 
 praying for the afflicted Church of Christ, for an end to 
 the persecution of the Catholics, and for God's blessing 
 upon the reign of her son. She went on to say with the 
 utmost fervor that she hoped to be saved by the merits 
 of Jesus Christ, at the foot of whose cross she was about 
 to pour out her blood. 
 
 At that, the Earl of Kent could contain himself no 
 longer. 
 
 "Zounds, Madame," he exclaimed, without respect 
 for the solemnity of the moment, " take Jesus Christ 
 into your heart, and cast out all this papistical trump- 
 ery!" 
 
 But she went on, without noticing him, implor- 
 ing the blessed saints to intercede with God in her 
 behalf. 
 
 " Lord ! Lord ! " she cried, kissing the crucifix, " take
 
 236 MARY BTUAKT. 
 
 me to Thy arms outstretched upon the cross, and forgive 
 all my sins." 
 
 Again she took her seat upon the stool, and the Earl 
 of Kent then asked her if she had no confession to 
 make ; she replied that, as she had committed no crime, 
 any confession she might make would be a falsehood 
 pure and simple. 
 
 " Very well, Madame," said the Earl, " if that be so, 
 prepare to die." 
 
 The Queen arose, and said to the headsman as he ap- 
 proached to remove her clothing : 
 
 " Let me do it, my friend ; I know better than you 
 how it should be done, and I am not accustomed to 
 being undressed before so large a company nor by such 
 attendants." 
 
 She called her two women and began to remove the 
 pins from her head-dress. As they assisted their mis- 
 tress to disrobe for the last time they could not keep 
 back the hot tears which rose to their eyes. 
 
 " Do not weep," said Mary, in French, " for I gave 
 my word that you would not." 
 
 As she spoke she made the sign of the cross on the 
 forehead of each of them, kissed them both, and bade 
 them pray for her. 
 
 She then began to remove her clothing, assisting her 
 women as she was in the habit of doing when she retired 
 at night ; she took the gold crucifix from her neck and 
 was about to give it to Jane, saying to the executioner : 
 
 " My friend, I know that everything I have upon me 
 belongs to you, but you have no use for this, so let me 
 give it to Mademoiselle, I beg, and she will pay you its 
 value twice over in money." 
 
 But the executioner hardly allowed her to finish her 
 sentence, ere he snatched it from her hands.
 
 MARY STUART 
 
 The execution of Queen Mary Stuart, 
 February 8, /5<?/.
 
 MARY STUART. 237 
 
 " It's my perquisite," he said. 
 
 The Queen manifested no emotion at his brutality, 
 but continued to remove her clothing until she had on 
 nothing but an under-petticoat. She then sat down again 
 upon the stool, and Jane Kennedy took from her pocket 
 the cambric handkerchief she selected the night before, 
 and bandaged her eyes with it, to the great surprise of 
 the Earls, Lords and gentlemen present, as such was not 
 the custom in England. 
 
 Mary supposed that she was to be beheaded by the 
 French method, that is, as she sat upon the stool ; so she 
 set perfectly erect with her neck stiff, to make the heads- 
 man's task the easier, while he, uncertain how to act, 
 stood with his axe in his hand, but did not strike. At 
 last his assistant laid hold of the Queen's head and drew 
 her forward until she fell upon her knees. She then 
 seemed to realize what was expected of her, and groped 
 around for the block with her hands, still holding in one 
 of them her book of hours, and in the other her crucifix. 
 When she found it, she laid her neck upon it, and placed 
 her clasped hands under her chin, as if to pray until the 
 last moment, but the assistant drew them away lest they 
 might be cut off with her head. 
 
 As Mary exclaimed : " In manus tuas, Domine" the 
 executioner raised his axe, which was of the common 
 wood-cutting description, and struck the first blow ; but 
 he aimed too high, and the blade entered the skull, caus- 
 ing the book and the crucifix to fall from the sufferer's 
 hand but not detaching the head. However, the Queen 
 was stunned by the blow and did not move, so that the 
 executioner could prepare for the second blow at his 
 leisure ; but even then the head did not fall, and a third 
 blow was necessary to sever a shred of flesh which still 
 held it on the shoulders. At last the head was fairly
 
 238 MARY STUART. 
 
 severed, and the headsman held it up to the gaze of the 
 assemblage, exclaiming : 
 
 " God save Queen Elizabeth ! " 
 
 " So perish all her Majesty's foes ! " rejoined the Dean 
 of Peterborough. 
 
 " Amen ! " said the Earl of Kent ; but he was the 
 only one ; every other voice was choked with tears and 
 sobbing. 
 
 At that moment the Queen's head-dress fell off, and 
 they could see her hair, cut very short, and as white as 
 that of a woman of seventy. Her face had changed so 
 during her agony that it had become unrecognizable. The 
 sight evoked exclamations of horror, for the eyes were 
 open, and the lips moving as if they were still in prayer. 
 This nervous movement lasted above quarter of an hour 
 after her head was severed from her body. 
 
 The Queen's faithful servants rushed upon the scaf- 
 fold, and gathered up the book of hours and the crucifix 
 as priceless relics. Jane Kennedy remembered the little 
 dog, and looked about on all sides for him, calling him 
 by name, but he had disappeared. 
 
 A moment later, as one of the executioners was unty- 
 ing the Queen's garters, which were of blue satin em- 
 broidered with silver, he spied the poor little creature 
 hiding in her petticoat, whence he had to be removed by 
 force ; the next moment he escaped from his grasp again 
 and lay down between his mistress' shoulders and the 
 head, which had been deposited beside the body. Jane 
 took him then, not heeding his piteous cries, and carried 
 him away, all covered, as he was, with blood, for the 
 order had been given for everybody to leave the room. 
 Bourgoin and Gervais remained behind, begging Sir 
 Amyas Paulet to allow them to remove the Queen's 
 heart, so that they could take it to France, as they had
 
 MARY STUART. 239 
 
 promised her, but their request was roughly refused, and 
 they were pushed out of the room, all the doors of which 
 were closed, leaving the corpse and the executioner 
 together. 
 
 Brantdme asserts that a horrible deed was then perpe- 
 trated. 
 
 Two hours after the execution the body and the head 
 were taken to the same room in which Mary Stuart 
 was made to appear before the commissioners, and 
 placed upon the table at which those functionaries 
 were seated on that occasion. They were covered 
 with a black cloth, and remained there until three in 
 the afternoon, at which time, Nater, a physician of 
 Standford, and the surgeon of the village of Fother- 
 ingay came to open and embalm it. This they did 
 indifferently well in the presence of Sir Amyas Paulet 
 and the soldiers, without a shadow of consideration for 
 the rank or the sex of the hapless creature, whose body 
 was thus freely exposed to the gaze of all who chose to 
 look upon it. Nor did this indignity serve the purpose 
 sought to be served, for there was a rumor that the 
 Queen's legs were swollen and that she was dropsical, 
 while there was not one of those present who was not 
 forced to confess that he had never seen a young 
 maiden's body more spotless and beautiful than Mary 
 Stuart's, as she lay dead by violence after nineteen 
 years of captivity and suffering. 
 
 When the body was opened the spleen was found to 
 be in a healthy condition, the lungs a little yellowish in 
 spots, and the brain a sixth larger than the average size 
 of that organ in females of the same age. Everything 
 promised long life to her whose days had been so cruelly 
 cut short. 
 
 A formal report of the execution having been drawn,
 
 240 MARY STUART. 
 
 the body was embalmed, and placed in a leaden coffin, 
 and that in another of wood, which was left upon the 
 table until the first day of August nearly five months, 
 that is to say, and during all that time no one was 
 permitted to go near it. When it was discovered that 
 Mary's ill-starred servants, who were still held as pris- 
 oners, were in the habit of going to gaze at it through 
 the keyhole, the hole was obstructed in such a way that 
 they could not catch a glimpse even of the casket which 
 held the body of the mistress they had loved so dearly. 
 
 Meanwhile, an hour after Mary Stuart's death, Henry 
 Talbot, who was among those present, set out at full 
 speed for London, bearing to Elizabeth the glad intelli- 
 gence that her rival had ceased to live. True to her 
 character, Elizabeth expressed her grief and indigna- 
 tion in unmeasured terms ; she said that her orders had 
 been misunderstood, that they had been too hasty, and 
 that it was all the fault of Secretary of State Davison, 
 to whom she had given the warrant to retain until she 
 should make up her mind, and not to be sent to Fother- 
 ingay. Consequently poor Davison was sent to the 
 Tower, and sentenced to pay a fine of ten thousand 
 pounds sterling for failing to consider the Queen's 
 scruples. 
 
 While her grief was at its height, however, an embargo 
 was placed upon all vessels in the various ports of the 
 kingdom so that the news of the Queen of Scotland's 
 death might not be carried to foreign countries, espe- 
 cially France, except by adroit emissaries, who could 
 make it appear in a less unfavorable light for Elizabeth. 
 At the same time the shameful popular rejoicings which 
 greeted the promulgation of the sentence of death were 
 repeated in celebration of the news of the execution. 
 All London was illuminated, bonfires were lighted before
 
 MARY STUART. 241 
 
 the doors, and public excitement rose to such a pitch 
 that they broke into the French embassy and took the 
 furniture to feed the fires when they began to die 
 out. 
 
 M. de Chateauneuf was still barricaded in the embassy, 
 not yet recovered from his consternation at the outrage, 
 when he received an invitation from Elizabeth, a fort- 
 night after it occurred, to visit her at the country seat 
 of the Archbishop of Canterbury. M. de Chateauneuf 
 went thither with a definite purpose of not lisping a 
 word concerning what had taken place ; but as soon as 
 he appeared, Elizabeth, who was dressed in black, rose 
 and went to meet him. She overwhelmed him with 
 kindness, and said that she was prepared to place all 
 her available forces at the disposal of Henri III., to 
 assist him to put down the League. 
 
 Chateauneuf received all her offers with a stern, cold 
 expression, persevering in his intention of saying nothing 
 concerning the event which had caused them both to 
 wear mourning garb. But she took his hand and led 
 him aside, and said, with sighs that shook her whole 
 frame : 
 
 " Ah ! Monsieur, since I last saw you, I have suffered 
 the greatest misfortune which could have come upon me. 
 I refer to the death of my good sister, the Queen of 
 Scotland, of which I swear by God Himself, by my soul, 
 and my hopes of salvation, that I am absolutely guiltless. 
 I signed the warrant, it is true ; but some of my council 
 put a trick upon me which I cannot forgive; and I 
 swear to God that, were it not for the long years they 
 have been in my service, I would have cut off their 
 heads. I have a woman's body, Monsieur, but in that 
 woman's body there is a man's heart." 
 
 Chateauneuf bowed without replying ; but his letter 
 
 Vol. IV. 16.
 
 242 MARY STUART. 
 
 to Henri III., and the tatter's response show that neither 
 of them was for a single instant the dupe of this female 
 Tiberius. 
 
 Meanwhile, as we have seen, the Queen's unfortunate 
 servants were held in captivity, and the disfigured body 
 remained in the great hall, awaiting royal burial. Mat- 
 ters were left at that point, as Elizabeth said, to give 
 her time to prepare a grand funeral for her " good sister 
 Mary," but the real reason was that she did not dare to 
 have the public, royal burial follow so close upon the 
 secret, infamous death. Furthermore, was it not essen- 
 tial that such reports as it pleased Elizabeth to put in 
 circulation should have time to gain credence before the 
 real truth should become known from the lips of Mary's 
 retainers ? for the Queen hoped that when this slothful 
 world had once formed an opinion as to the death of the 
 Queen of Scotland, it would not go to the trouble of 
 changing it. It was not until the keepers were as weary 
 as the prisoners, that Elizabeth, having received a report 
 to the effect that the poorly embalmed body could be 
 kept no longer, at last issued orders that the obsequies 
 should take place. 
 
 On the first day of August tailors and dressmakers 
 arrived at Fotheringay Castle, sent by Elizabeth, with 
 black cloth and black silk, to provide all Mary's servants 
 with mourning. But they declined, for, as they did not 
 anticipate such generosity on the part of the Queen of 
 England, they had provided their own mourning at their 
 own expense immediately upon their mistress' death. 
 The tailors and dressmakers set to work none the less, 
 and to such good purpose that everything was completed 
 on the seventh. 
 
 On the following evening, about eight o'clock, a large 
 vehicle covered with black velvet, and drawn by four
 
 MARY STUART. 243 
 
 horses with black trappings, stopped before the gate of 
 Fotheringay Castle. The vehicle was adorned with 
 small streamers, on which were embroidered the arms of 
 Scotland, which were the Queen's, and the arms of 
 Aragon, which were Darnley's. 
 
 It was followed by the King-at-Arms and twenty 
 mounted gentlemen, with their retainers and lackeys, all 
 dressed in black. The King-at-Arms dismounted and 
 with his whole suite went up to the hall where the body 
 lay and caused it to be taken down and placed in the 
 hearse with all possible respect, the whole party being 
 bareheaded and preserving absolute silence. 
 
 This transaction caused great excitement among the 
 prisoners, who at once took counsel together as to the 
 propriety of expressing their wish to attend the body 
 of their mistress, on the ground that they could not 
 bear the thought of its being taken away without them ; 
 but just as they were on the point of sending to request 
 an interview with the King-at-Arms, that dignitary 
 entered the room where they were and informed them 
 that he was instructed by his august mistress, the Queen 
 of England, to do honor to the late Queen of Scotland 
 with the most magnificent funeral within his power to 
 arrange. He said that he was most anxious to show 
 himself worthy of so honorable a mission, and had 
 already made a great part of his preparations for the 
 ceremony which was to take place on the tenth of 
 August, the second day thereafter ; that, inasmuch as 
 the leaden casket which contained the body was very 
 heavy, it was thought best to take it that night to the 
 place where the grave had been dug, rather than to 
 wait until the day fixed for the burial ; thus they had 
 no occasion for alarm, as this removal of the casket waa 
 merely a preliminary measure. He went on to say,
 
 244 MARY STUART. 
 
 however, that if a few of them chose to accompany the 
 body to see what disposition was made of it, they were 
 quite free to do so, and the others could follow the pall, 
 it being Elizabeth's explicit command that all of them, 
 from the first to the last, should be present at the fun- 
 eral ceremonies. 
 
 This assurance eased the minds of the unhappy pris- 
 oners, who deputed Bourgoin, Gervais, and six others 
 to be selected by them to follow the body ; they selected 
 Andrew Melville, Stewart, Gorjon, Howard, Lauder, 
 and Nicolas Delamarre. 
 
 At ten o'clock at night they set out, marching behind 
 the vehicle, preceded by the King-at-Arms, accompanied 
 by footmen carrying torches, and followed by the twenty 
 gentlemen and their retainers. At two o'clock in the 
 morning they arrived at Peterborough, where there is a 
 magnificent cathedral, erected by one of the old Saxon 
 kings, in which Catherine of Aragon, wife of Henry 
 VIII. was buried, on the left side of the choir. Her 
 tomb was still adorned with a canopy bearing her crest. 
 
 They found the edifice draped in black, and a struc- 
 ture erected in the centre of the choir, after the fashion 
 of the chapelles ardentes in France, except that it was 
 not surrounded by lighted candles. It was covered with 
 black velvet, embroidered with the arms of Scotland 
 and Aragon, which were also repeated on streamers simi- 
 lar to those on the funeral car. The resting-place for 
 the pall was already prepared beneath this structure ; it 
 was a bier covered with black velvet, fringed with sil- 
 ver, and upon it was a pillow covered with similar 
 material on which lay a crown. To the right of the 
 bier, and opposite the sepulchre of Catherine of Ara- 
 gon, a grave had been dug for Mary of Scotland ; it 
 was of brick and so constructed that it could be covered
 
 MARY STUART. 245 
 
 subsequently with a marble slab, or a tomb be built 
 over it. The casket was now to be placed therein, and 
 the Bishop of Peterborough was awaiting it at the door 
 to officiate at that ceremony ; he was clad in his Episco- 
 pal robes, without mitre, cross or cope, and was accom- 
 panied by his Dean and some other ministers. 
 
 The body was borne into the church without music 
 or prayer, and lowered into the grave, amid the most 
 profound silence. As soon as it was in place, the 
 masons resumed their interrupted work, and filled in the 
 grave level with the surrounding earth, leaving only an 
 aperture a foot and a half in length, through which one 
 could see what was within, and throw in upon the casket, 
 as was the custom at the obsequies of royal personages, 
 the broken staves of their high officers of state, and en- 
 signs and banners bearing the arms of the deceased. 
 
 When this nocturnal ceremony was at an end, Bour- 
 goin, Melville, and the others were escorted to the 
 Bishop's palace, where all those appointed to attend the 
 final obsequies were to assemble, to the number of more 
 than three hundred and fifty, all of whom, with the 
 exception of the late Queen's servants were selected 
 from the officers of justice, and the Protestant nobility 
 and clergy. 
 
 On Thursday, August 9, the banquet halls of the 
 palace were hung with rich and sumptuous black drap- 
 ery, before Melville, Bourgoin, and the others, whose 
 presence was desired, not so much to afford them the 
 satisfaction of witnessing the interment of Queen Mary, 
 as to make them witnesses of the magnificence of Queen 
 Elizabeth. But, as can readily be imagined, the luck- 
 less prisoners showed but little warmth at this ostenta- 
 tious display, little as they anticipated it. 
 
 On Friday, August 10, all those deputed to attend
 
 246 MARY STUART. 
 
 the obsequies, having assembled at the palace, they 
 formed in procession and marched to the Cathedral, 
 which was close at hand. When they arrived, they 
 took the positions assigned them in the choir, and the 
 choristers at once began to intone the funeral service in 
 English, according to the prescribed Protestant ritual. 
 At the first words of the service, when he found that it 
 was not performed by Catholic priests, Bourgoin left the 
 Cathedral, vowing that he would not sanction such sacri- 
 lege with his presence, he was followed by all of Mary's 
 retainers, men and women alike, except Melville and 
 Maubray, who reasoned that in whatever tongue prayers 
 were uttered, they were heard by the Lord. Their exit 
 caused unbounded comment, but the Bishop preached 
 his sermon none the less. 
 
 When the sermon was ended the King-at-Arms sought 
 out Bourgoin and his companions who were walking in 
 the cloisters, and informed them that the holy commun- 
 ion was about to be celebrated, requesting them to take 
 part therein. But they replied that as they were Catholics 
 they could not partake of the communion at an altar of 
 which they did not approve. 
 
 The King-at-Arms returned, much annoyed that the 
 ceremonies should be marred by their bigotry, but the 
 sacrament was administered none the less. 
 
 He then made a last attempt, and sent word to them 
 that the religious services were at an end, and they 
 could therefore venture to return and be present at the 
 royal ceremonies which had no connection with any 
 form of worship. They agreed with him in that regard, 
 but when they arrived, the staves of office were already 
 broken, and with the banners thrown into the opening 
 which the workmen were closing up. 
 
 The procession returned to the Bishop's palace in the
 
 MARY STUART. 247 
 
 same order, and there a sumptuous funeral banquet was 
 spread. By a curious freak, Elizabeth, who after pun- 
 ishing the living as a criminal, heaped royal honors 
 upon the dead, was determined that her rival's servitors, 
 whom she had forgotten so long, should be the guests of 
 honor at this funeral feast. But they naturally did not 
 lend themselves readily to her purpose ; they manifested 
 no amazement at the magnificence of the appointments, 
 nor gratification at the good cheer, but moistened their 
 bread with their tears, and made no other reply to the 
 questions asked them and the attentions lavished upon 
 them. 
 
 Immediately upon the conclusion of the feast, they 
 quitted Peterborough and journeyed back to Fotherin- 
 gay where they learned that they were free at last to go 
 whithersoever they chose. They did not wait to be told 
 twice, for they were living in ceaseless dread, and con- 
 sidered their lives in danger so long as they remained in 
 England. They therefore at once collected all their 
 belongings and took their departure on foot from Foth- 
 eringay Castle on Monday, August 13, 1587. 
 
 Bourgoin was the last to leave and when he reached 
 the further side of the drawbridge he turned about. 
 Christian, though he was, he could not forgive Elizabeth, 
 not his own sufferings, but those of his mistress ; so he 
 turned about and shook his clenched fists at the regicide 
 walls, repeating in a loud and threatening voice these 
 words of David : 
 
 " May the vengeance of the blood of Thy servants, 
 which has been shed, O Lord, God, be welcome in Thy 
 sight!" 
 
 The old man's malediction was heard, and inexorable 
 history has assumed the task of punishing Elizabeth. 
 
 *******
 
 248 MARY STUART. 
 
 We remarked that the headsman's axe, when it em- 
 bedded itself in Mary Stuart's skull, caused the crucifix 
 and the book of hours to fall from her hands, and that 
 they were picked up by some person or persons of her 
 suite. We are unable to say what became of the cruci- 
 fix, but the book of hours is at the BibliothSque Royale, 
 where it may be seen by those who are interested in 
 historic souvenirs. Its authenticity is vouched for by 
 two certificates, which we quote, inscribed upon one of 
 the fly-leaves of the volume : 
 
 FIRST CERTIFICATE. 
 
 "We, the undersigned, superieur vieaire de Vetroite 
 observance of the Order of Cluny, certify that this book 
 was delivered to us by order of the late Don Michel 
 Nardin, a professed priest of our said order, who de- 
 parted this life at our College of St. Martial of Avignon, 
 on the 28th March, 1723, aged about eighty years, 
 thirty of which he passed among us, leading a life of 
 exemplary piety ; he was a German by birth, and served 
 a long while as an officer in the army. 
 
 " He was admitted at Cluny and took orders there, 
 having laid aside all thought of worldly possessions and 
 honors. He retained, with the permission of his supe- 
 riors, this book only, which he knew to have been in 
 constant use by Mary Stuart, Queen of England and 
 Scotland, to the end of her life. Before his death sepa- 
 rated him from his brethren, he asked that the book, in 
 order that it might the more surely reach us, should be 
 sent to us by post in a sealed package. 
 
 " In the same shape in which we received it, we have 
 requested M. 1'Abbe Bignon, Councillor of State, and 
 Royal Librarian, to accept this precious souvenir of the
 
 MARY STUART. 249 
 
 piety of a Queen of England and a German officer of 
 her faith and ours. 
 
 "Signed, FRERE GERARD PONCET, 
 
 " Superieur Vicaire- General." 
 
 SECOND CERTIFICATE. 
 
 " We, Jean Paul Bignon, Royal Librarian, are very 
 glad of the opportunity to demonstrate our zeal for the 
 religion by placing this manuscript in his Majesty's 
 library. 
 
 "Signed JEAN PIERRE BIGNON. 
 
 "8th July, 1721." 
 
 This manuscript, upon which the last glance of the 
 hapless Queen of Scotland was fixed, is a duodecimo, 
 written in Gothic characters, and containing Latin 
 prayers ; it is embellished with gilt miniatures in relief, 
 representing devotional subjects, scenes from sacred 
 history, or from the lives of the saints and martyrs. 
 Each page has a border of arabesques, mingled with 
 garlands of flowers and fruits, from which grotesque 
 faces of men and animals peer out. 
 
 The binding, which is now much worn, consists of a 
 black velvet cover, whose flat sides have, in the centre, 
 a pansy in enamel, entangled in a catkin of silver ; two 
 silver-gilt cords, twisted and knotted, extend diagonally 
 from corner to corner of the cover, with tassels at either 
 end.
 
 TESTAMENT OF MARY STUART. 
 
 Copy of the last will and of a memoire of the late Queen 
 Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland and Dowager of France, 
 taken from the originals, written and signed with the 
 Queen's own hand, the one on the day before, and the 
 other on the very day of her death, which occurred 
 February 8, 1587. 
 
 In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost : 
 
 I, Mary, by the grace of God, Queen of Scotland 
 and Dowager of France, being prepared to die, and 
 being unable to make my will, do commit my last wishes 
 to writing, intending and wishing that they may have 
 the same force and effect as if they were put in proper 
 form. 
 
 I declare that I die in the Catholic, Apostolic, Roman 
 faith. 
 
 In the first place, I wish that a full service should be 
 performed for the repose of my soul in the Church of 
 Saint Denis in Paris, and another at Saint Peter's at 
 Rheims, at which all my servants may be present in 
 such manner as I have given instructions to those who 
 have the matter in charge. 
 
 Also, that a yearly obit shall be founded, that prayers 
 may be said for my soul forever in such place and man- 
 ner as shall be deemed most suitable. To provide there- 
 for, I desire my houses at Fontainebleau to be sold, 
 trusting that, in addition thereto, the King, will assist 
 herein, as requested in my memoire. 
 
 I desire my estate of Trepagny to pass to my cousin, 
 (250)
 
 MARY STUART. 251 
 
 De Guise, for one of his daughters, if she should be 
 married. I will remit half or a part of the arrearages 
 due to me, on condition that the residue be paid to be 
 employed by my executors in perpetual alms. The bet- 
 ter to effect this result the papers should be found, so 
 that legal proceedings may be instituted. 
 
 I desire, also, that the proceeds of my Secondat litiga- 
 tion be distributed as follows : 
 
 First, in payment of my debts and obligations herein- 
 after mentioned. And first of all, Curie's two thousand 
 crowns, which I wish paid to him without demur, as 
 they were to have been given to him upon his marriage; 
 nor can Nan, or any other, demand any portion of it from 
 him, whatever obligation he may hold, for it is only a 
 pretence, and the money was mine and not borrowed ; 
 I simply caused it to be shown to him, and then 
 withdrew it, and it was afterwards taken from me with 
 the rest. Charteloy, which I give him, if he can re- 
 cover it, as he was promised in payment of the four 
 thousand crowns promised at my death, and a thous- 
 and for the marriage of one of his sisters, and hav- 
 ing asked me for the rest for his expenses while in 
 prison. As for the assignment of a like sum to Nan, it 
 is not a matter of obligation ; and it has always been my 
 intention that it should be the last paid, and then only 
 if nothing should appear to have been done contrary to 
 the conditions on which I gave them to him, as my ser- 
 vants will bear witness. 
 
 As to the twelve hundred crowns which he borrowed 
 for my service, six hundred from Beauregard, three 
 hundred from Gervais, and the rest I know not where, 
 he must repay them from his own store, and I be re- 
 leased therefrom and the obligation canceled ; for I 
 received none of it, but the whole is now in his coffers,
 
 252 MARY STUART. 
 
 if they are not already paid. However that may be, 
 that sum must be restored to me intact, as I have had 
 none of it, and if it was paid, I ought to have recourse 
 as for my own property ; and then I desire that Pasquier 
 shall account for the sums he has received and expended 
 at Nan's bidding through the hands of the servants of 
 M. de Chateauneuf, the French Ambassador. 
 
 I desire that my accounts be audited and my treasurer 
 paid ; also, that the wages and portions of my people, 
 as well for the past year as the present, should all be 
 paid before anything else, including pensions as well as 
 wages (except Nan's and Curie's pensions) so far as it is 
 possible to know what is coming to them, and what they 
 have deserved at my hands in the way of pensions, un- 
 less Curie's wife is in necessitous circumstances, or is 
 maltreated on my account; the same as to Nan's 
 wages. 
 
 I desire that the twenty-four hundred francs I have 
 given to Jane Kennedy shall be paid her in silver, as 
 was provided in her first gift, whereby the pension of 
 Volly (sic) Douglas will revert to me, which I give to 
 Fontenay for his services and expenses, as yet unre- 
 warded. 
 
 I desire that the four thousand crowns should be 
 solicited and collected from the banker, whose name I 
 have forgotten ; but the Bishop of Glasgow will remem- 
 ber it, and if the first assignment is missing, I desire 
 that one should be given upon the first avails of Secon- 
 dat. The ten thousand francs which the Ambassador 
 had received for me, I wish divided among my servants 
 who are now leaving me, namely : 
 
 Two thousand francs to my physician ; 
 
 Two thousand to Elizabeth Curie ; 
 
 Two thousand to Sebastien Paiges ;
 
 MARY STUART. 253 
 
 Two thousand to Marie Paiges, my god-daughter ; 
 
 To Beauregard, a thousand francs ; 
 
 A thousand to Gorjon ; 
 
 A thousand to Gervais. 
 
 From the other avails of my income and the residue 
 from Secondat, and from all miscellaneous sources, I 
 wish five thousand crowns to be employed in charity 
 among the children of Rheims. 
 
 To my schoolmates, two thousand francs. 
 
 To the four beggars, such sum as may seem proper to 
 my executors, according to the means they have at hand. 
 
 Five hundred francs to the hospitals. 
 
 To my chief cook, Martin, I give a thousand francs. 
 
 A thousand francs to Annibal, and I bequeath him to 
 my cousin, De Guise, his god-father, to give him some 
 place in his household for life. 
 
 I leave five hundred francs to Nicdlas, and five hun- 
 dred for his daughters when they marry. 
 
 I leave five hundred francs to Robert Hamilton, and 
 beg my son to take him, and Monsieur de Glasgow, or 
 the Bishop of Ross. 
 
 I leave to Didier his clerkship, subject to the King's 
 favor. 
 
 I give five hundred francs to Jean Lauder, and beg 
 my cousin, De Guise, or Du Maine to take him into 
 their service, and Messieurs de Glasgow and Ross to see 
 to it that he is provided for. I desire his father's wages 
 to be paid, and I leave him five hundred francs. 
 
 I desire that a thousand francs be paid to Gorjon 
 for money and other things furnished me in time of 
 need. 
 
 I desire, if Bourgoin makes the pilgrimage to Saint- 
 Nicolas, which he has undertaken to make for me, that 
 fifteen hundred francs be paid him on that account.
 
 254 MARY STUART. 
 
 I leave six thousand francs to the Bishop of Glasgow, 
 and three thousand to him of Ross, said sums being 
 apportioned according to my limited means. 
 
 I leave my miscellaneous properties and seignorial 
 rights to my godson, M. du Ruysseau's son. 
 
 I give three hundred francs to Laureny. 
 
 Also three hundred francs to Suzanne. 
 
 And I leave ten thousand francs to be distributed 
 among the four who became sureties for me to the solici- 
 tor Varney. 
 
 I desire that the proceeds of the sale of the furniture, 
 which I have ordered to be sold at London, be applied 
 to defray the expenses of my servants' journey to France. 
 
 I leave my coach and horses to be used for the trans- 
 portation of my maids, or to be sold as is most convenient 
 to them. 
 
 There are about a hundred crowns of wages for 
 previous years due to Bourgoin, and I wish them to be 
 paid him. 
 
 I leave two thousand francs to Melville, my maitre 
 d'hotel. 
 
 I appoint my cousin, the Due de Guise, principal 
 executor of my will. 
 
 After him, the Bishop of Glasgow, the Bishop of 
 Ross, and M. du Ruysseau, his chancellor. 
 
 It is my purpose that Le Pre"au shall continue without 
 fail to enjoy his two prebends. 
 
 I commend my god-daughter, Marie Paiges to my 
 cousin, Madame de Guise, and beg her to take her in 
 her service, and my aunt, Madame de Saint-Pierre, to 
 find some good place for Mowbray, or retain her in her 
 own service, for the honor of God. 
 
 Done this 7th day of February, 1587. 
 
 And signed, MARIE, Queen.
 
 MARY STUART. 266 
 
 MEMOIRE, 
 
 Or the Last Request which I make of the King, 
 (Henri III. of France). 
 
 To pay me as well what he owes me on account of my 
 pensions as the money advanced by the late Queen, my 
 mother, in Scotland, for the service of the King, my 
 father-in-law, in those regions; or, at least, so much 
 thereof that an obit may be founded for the repose of 
 my soul, and that the alms and trifling endowments 
 promised by me may be provided for. 
 
 Also, that he will be pleased to permit my dowager's 
 stipend to be paid a year after my death in order that 
 my servants may be paid. 
 
 Also, if he so please, to allow them to receive their 
 wages and pensions during their lives, as was done in 
 the case of the officers of Queen Ali6nor (sic). 
 
 Also, I beg him to receive my physician into his 
 service, as he promised, and to hold him in esteem. 
 
 Also, that my chaplain may be restored to his pro- 
 fession, and, for my sake, provided with some little 
 living where he may pray God for my soul during the 
 remainder of his life. 
 
 Also, that Didier, an old retainer of my cuisine, to whom 
 I have given a clerkship as a recompense, may enjoy 
 it during his life, he being already very aged. 
 
 Done on the morning of my death, Wednesday, 
 February 8, 1587. 
 
 And signed, MARIE, Queen.
 
 256 MARY STUART. 
 
 Translation of Lines on Page 5. 
 
 I see her in her snow-white garb, in deep mourning 
 and sad unto death, walking hither and thither, the very 
 Goddess of Beauty ; holding in her hand the shaft of 
 her inhuman son, and Love, without frontlet, fluttering 
 about her, concealing her fillet beneath a widow's veil, 
 on which these words are written : " Die or become my 
 slave." 
 
 Translation of Verses on Page 97. 
 
 1. Caves, meadows, mountains, plains, rocks, groves, 
 and forests, streams, rivers and fountains, where I find 
 myself wandering, overflowing with vague complaints 
 and sobs, I long to sing of the wretched grief which 
 causes my lamentation. 
 
 2. But who will be able to hear my sighs and groan- 
 ing? Or who to understand my ennui and languor? 
 Will it be this herbage, or the water beneath this bank, 
 which, as it flows, carries with it the stream which pours 
 from my face ? 
 
 3. Alas ! no, for the wound which looks for relief to 
 unreasonable things, seeks in vain the healing balm. 
 Much better is it that I should pour my plaint in bitter 
 terms into thy ears, who hast brought this torture upon 
 my heart. 
 
 4. O thou immortal goddess, pray, listen to my voice, 
 thou, who boldest my faculties in tutelage under thy 
 sway, so that if the springs of my life are dried up, thy 
 cruelty may avow itself vanquished by thy beauty 
 alone. 
 
 5. 'Tis plain that my face is gradually melting away
 
 MARY STUART. 257 
 
 like cold ice in the fire's heat ; and yet the flame of 
 passion which scorches and consumes me never moves 
 thy heart to any fellow feeling. 
 
 6. And yet these trees which stand about me, these 
 rocks and marbles, are well aware of my emotion. In 
 short, nothing in nature is ignorant of my suffering save 
 alone thou, who feedest upon my cruel torment. 
 
 7. But if it is pleasant to thee to see me writhing in 
 such agony, may my pitiable misery last forever ! 
 
 Translation of Lines sent by Queen Mary to Elizabeth 
 with her Letter. Page 167. 
 
 1. A single thought there is which comforts and tor- 
 ments me, and changes sweet to bitter without ceasing 
 in my heart, as doubt and hope alternately oppress me 
 for peace and rest have long since taken flight. 
 
 2. Dear sister, if this letter bears the impress of the 
 longing to see you which possesses me, it is because I 
 abide in sorrow and distress, lest a happy result should 
 not soon follow. 
 
 3. I have seen my bark forced to cast anchor in the 
 deep, just on the point of sailing into port, and storm 
 succeed fair weather. 
 
 4. Thus am I oppressed by anxiety and fear; not 
 concerning you, but because Fortune so often wrongfully 
 causes cables and double cordage to part. 
 
 Vol. IV -17.
 
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