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Mary's Marriage Personal Appearance And Popularity

Mary The Queen Dauphiness The Queen And The Queen Dowager Of France

A Tangle

An Examination Of The Letters Sonnets And Other Writings Adduced In Evidence Against Mary Queen Of Scots

Occurrences Immediately Preceding Darnley's Death

The Little Waif

Paul's Walk



Mary's Birth And Subsequent Residence At The French Court

Least Viewed

Return To Scotland

My Lady's Remorse

The Bewitched Whistle

Hunting Down The Deer

Mary's Eighteen Years' Captivity

Queen Mary's Presence Chamber

Mary's Reception In England And The Conferences At York And Westminster

The Love Token

Before The Commissioners

The Ebbing Well

The Sentence

The tragedies of the stage compress themselves into a few hours, but
the tragedies of real life are of slow and heavy march, and the
heart-sickness of delay and hope and dread alike deferred is one of
their chief trials.

Humfrey's hurt was quite well, but as he was at once trusted by his
superiors, and acceptable to the captive, he was employed in many of
those lesser communications between her and her keepers, for which the
two knights did not feel it necessary to harass her with their
presence. His post, for half the twenty-four hours, was on guard in
the gallery outside her anteroom door; but he often knocked and was
admitted as bearer of some message to her or her household; and equally
often was called in to hear her requests, and sometimes he could not
help believing because it pleased her to see him, even if there were
nothing to tell her.

Nor was there anything known until the 19th of November, when the sound
of horses' feet in large numbers, and the blast of bugles, announced
the arrival of a numerous party. When marshalled into the ordinary
dining-hall, they proved to be Lord Buckhurst, a dignified-looking
nobleman, who bore a sad and grave countenance full of presage, with
Mr. Beale, the Clerk of the Council, and two or three other officials
and secretaries, among whom Humfrey perceived the inevitable Will

The two old comrades quickly sought each other out, Will observing, "So
here you are still, Humfrey. We are like to see the end of a long

"How so?" asked Humfrey, with a thrill of horror, "is she sentenced?"

"By the Commissioners, all excepting my Lord Zouch, and by both houses
of Parliament! We are come down to announce it to her. I'll have you
into the presence-chamber if I can prevail. It will be a noteworthy
thing to see how the daughter of a hundred kings brooks such a

"Hath no one spoken for her?" asked Humfrey, thinking at least as much
of Cicely as of the victim.

"The King of Scots hath sent an ambassage," returned Cavendish, "but
when I say 'tis the Master of Gray, you know what that means. King
James may be urgent to save his mother--nay, he hath written more
sharply and shrewishly than ever he did before; but as for this Gray,
whatever he may say openly, we know that he has whispered to the Queen,

'The dead don't bite.'"

"The villain!"

"That may be, so far as he himself is concerned, but the counsel is
canny, like the false Scot himself. What's this I hear, Humfrey, that
you have been playing the champion, and getting wounded in the defence?"

"A mere nothing," said Humfrey, opening his hand, however, to show the
mark. "I did but get my palm scored in hindering a villainous
man-at-arms from slaying the poor lady."

"Yea, well are thy race named Talbot!" said Cavendish. "Sturdy
watch-dogs are ye all, with never a notion that sometimes it may be for
the good of all parties to look the other way."

"If you mean that I am to stand by and see a helpless woman--"

"Hush! my good friend," said Will, holding up his hand. "I know thy
breed far too well to mean any such thing. Moreover, thy precisian
governor, old Paulett there, hath repelled, like instigations of Satan,
more hints than one that pain might be saved to one queen and publicity
to the other, if he would have taken a leaf from Don Philip's book, and
permitted the lady to be dealt with secretly. Had he given an ear to
the matter six months back, it would have spared poor Antony."

"Speak not thus, Will," said Humfrey, "or thou wilt make me believe
thee a worse man than thou art, only for the sake of showing me how
thou art versed in state policy. Tell me, instead, if thou hast seen
my father."

"Thy father? yea, verily, and I have a packet for thee from him. It is
in my mails, and I will give it thee anon. He is come on a bootless
errand! As long as my mother and my sister Mall are both living, he
might as well try to bring two catamounts together without hisses and

"Where is he lying?" asked Humfrey.

"In Shrewsbury House, after the family wont, and Gilbert makes him
welcome enough, but Mall is angered with him for not lodging his
daughter there likewise! I tell her he is afraid lest she should get
hold of the wench, and work up a fresh web of tales against this lady,
like those which did so much damage before. 'Twould be rare if she
made out that Gravity himself, in the person of old Paulett, had been
entranced by her."

"Peace with thy gibes," said Humfrey impatiently, "and tell me where my
sister is."

"Where thinkest thou? Of all strange places in the world, he hath
bestowed her with Madame de Salmonnet, the wife of one of the French
Ambassador's following, to perfect her French, as he saith. Canst thou
conceive wherefore he doth it? Hath he any marriage in view for her?
Mall tried to find out, but he is secret. Tell me, Numps, what is it?"

"If he be secret, must not I be the same?" said Humfrey, laughing.

"Nay, thou owest me some return for all that I have told thee."

"Marry, Will, that is more like a maiden than a statesman! But be
content, comrade, I know no more than thou what purposes there may be
anent my sister's marriage," he added. "Only if thou canst give me my
father's letter, I should be beholden to thee."

They were interrupted, however, by a summons to Humfrey, who was to go
to the apartments of the Queen of Scots, to bear the information that
in the space of half an hour the Lord Buckhurst and Master Beale would
do themselves the honour of speaking with her.

"So," muttered Cavendish to himself as Humfrey went up the stairs,
"there is then some secret. I marvel what it bodes! Did not that
crafty villain Langston utter some sort of warning which I spurned,
knowing the Bridgefield trustiness and good faith? This wench hath
been mightily favoured by the lady. I must see to it."

Meantime Humfrey had been admitted to Queen Mary's room, where she sat
as usual at her needlework. "You bring me tidings, my friend," she
said, as he bent his knee before her. "Methought I heard a fresh stir
in the Castle; who is arrived?"

"The Lord Buckhurst, so please your Grace, and Master Beale. They
crave an audience of your Grace in half an hour's time."

"Yea, and I can well guess wherefore," said the Queen. "Well, Fiat
voluntas tua! Buckhurst? he is kinsman of Elizabeth on the Boleyn
side, methinks! She would do me grace, you see, my masters, by sending
me such tidings by her cousin. They cannot hurt me! I am far past
that! So let us have no tears, my lassies, but receive them right
royally, as befits a message from one sovereign to another! Remember,
it is not before my Lord Buckhurst and Master Beale that we sit, but
before all posterities for evermore, who will hear of Mary Stewart and
her wrongs. Tell them I am ready, sir. Nay but, my son," she added,
with a very different tone of the tender woman instead of the outraged
sovereign, "I see thou hast news for me. Is it of the child?"

"Even so, madam. I wot little yet, but what I know is hopeful. She is
with Madame de Salmonnet, wife of one of the suite of the French

"Ah! that speaketh much," said Mary, smiling, "more than you know,
young man. Salmonnet is sprung of a Scottish archer, Jockie of the
salmon net, whereof they made in France M. de Salmonnet. Chateauneuf
must have owned her, and put her under the protection of the Embassy.
Hast thou had a letter from thy father?"

"I am told that one is among Will Cavendish's mails, madam, and I hope
to have it anon."

"These men have all unawares brought with them that which may well bear
me up through whatever may be coming."

A second message arrived from Lord Buckhurst himself, to say how
grieved he was to be the bearer of heavy tidings, and to say that he
would not presume to intrude on her Majesty's presence until she would
notify to him that she was ready to receive him.

"They have become courteous," said Mary. "But why should we dally? The
sooner this is over, the better."

The gentlemen were then admitted: Lord Buckhurst grave, sad, stately,
and courteous; Sir Annas Paulett, as usual, grim and wooden in his
puritanical stiffness; Sir Drew Drury keeping in the background as one
grieved; and Mr. Beale, who had already often harassed the Queen
before, eager, forward, and peremptory, as one whose exultation could
hardly be repressed by respect for his superior, Lord Buckhurst.

Bending low before her, this nobleman craved her pardon for that which
it was his duty to execute; and having kissed her hand, in token of her
personal forgiveness, he bade Mr. Beale read the papers.

The Clerk of the Council stood forth almost without obeisance, till it
was absolutely compelled from him by Buckhurst. He read aloud the
details of the judgment, that Mary had been found guilty by the
Commission, of conspiracy against the kingdom, and the life of the
Queen, with the sentence from the High Court of Parliament that she was
to die by being beheaded.

Mary listened with unmoved countenance, only she stood up and made
solemn protest against the authority and power of the Commission either
to try or condemn her. Beale was about to reply, but Lord Buckhurst
checked him, telling him it was simply his business to record the
protest; and then adding that he was charged to warn her to put away
all hopes of mercy, and to prepare for death. This, he said, was on
behalf of his Queen, who implored her to disburthen her conscience by a
full confession. "It is not her work," added Buckhurst; "the sentence
is not hers, but this thing is required by her people, inasmuch as her
life can never be safe while your Grace lives, nor can her religion
remain in any security."

Mary's demeanour had hitherto been resolute. Here a brightness and
look of thankful joy came over her, as she raised her eyes to Heaven
and joined her hands, saying, "I thank you, my lord; you have made it
all gladness to me, by declaring me to be an instrument in the cause of
my religion, for which, unworthy as I am, I shall rejoice to shed my

"Saint and martyr, indeed!" broke out Paulett. "That is fine! when you
are dying for plotting treason and murder!"

"Nay, sir," gently returned Mary, "I am not so presumptuous as to call
myself saint or martyr; but though you have power over my body, you
have none over my soul, nor can you prevent me from hoping that by the
mercy of Him who died for me, my blood and life may be accepted by Him,
as offerings freely made for His Church."

She then begged for the restoration of her Almoner De Preaux. She was
told that the request would be referred to the Queen, but that she
should have the attendance of an English Bishop and Dean. Paulett was
so angered at the manner in which she had met the doom, that he began
to threaten her that she would be denied all that could serve to her

"Yea, verily," said she calmly, "I am aware that the English have never
been noted for mercy."

Lord Buckhurst succeeded in getting the knight away without any more
bitter replies. Humfrey and Cavendish had, of course, to leave the
room in their train, and as it was the hour of guard for the former, he
had to take up his station and wait with what patience he could until
it should please Master William to carry him the packet. He opened it
eagerly, standing close beneath the little lamp that illuminated his
post, to read it: but after all, it was somewhat disappointing, for Mr.
Talbot did not feel that absolute confidence in the consciences of
gentlemen-in-place which would make him certain of that of Master
Cavendish, supposing any notion should arise that Cicely's presence in
London could have any purpose connected with the prisoner.

"To my dear son Humfrey, greeting--

"I do you to wit that we are here safely arrived in London, though we
were forced by stress of weather to tarry seven days in Hull, at the
house of good Master Heatherthwayte, where we received good and
hospitable entertainment. The voyage was a fair one, and the old
Mastiff is as brave a little vessel as ever she was wont to be; but thy
poor sister lay abed all the time, and was right glad when we came into
smooth water. We have presented the letters to those whom we came to
seek, and so far matters have gone with us more towardly than I had
expected. There are those who knew Cicely's mother at her years who
say there is a strange likeness between them, and who therefore
received her the more favourably. I am lying at present at Shrewsbury
House, where my young Lord makes me welcome, but it hath been judged
meet that thy sister should lodge with the good Madame de Salmonnet, a
lady of Scottish birth, who is wife to one of the secretaries of M. de
Chateauneuf, the French Ambassador, but who was bred in the convent of
Soissons. She is a virtuous and honourable lady, and hath taken charge
of thy sister while we remain in London. For the purpose for which we
came, it goeth forward, and those who should know assure me that we do
not lose time here. Diccon commendeth himself to thee; he is well in
health, and hath much improved in all his exercises. Mistress Curll is
lodging nigh unto the Strand, in hopes of being permitted to see her
husband; but that hath not yet been granted to her, although she is
assured that he is well in health, and like ere long to be set free, as
well as Monsieur Nau.

"We came to London the day after the Parliament had pronounced sentence
upon the Lady at Fotheringhay. I promise you there was ringing of
bells and firing of cannon, and lighting of bonfires, so that we deemed
that there must have been some great defeat of the Spaniards in the Low
Countries; and when we were told it was for joy that the Parliament had
declared the Queen of Scots guilty of death, my poor Cicely had
well-nigh swooned to think that there could be such joy for the doom of
one poor sick lady. There hath been a petition to the Queen that the
sentence may be carried out, and she hath answered in a dubious and
uncertain manner, which leaves ground for hope; and the King of Scots
hath written pressingly and sent the Master of Gray to speak in his
mother's behalf; also M. de Chateauneuf hath both urged mercy on the
Queen, and so written to France that King Henry is sending an
Ambassador Extraordinary, M. de Bellievre, to intercede for her.

"I send these presents by favour of Master Cavendish, who will tell
thee more than I have here space to set down, and can assure thee that
nothing hasty is like to be done in the business on which he hath come
down with these gentlemen. And so no more at present from thy loving

"Richard Talbot."

Humfrey had to gather what he could from this letter, but he had no
opportunity of speech with the prisoner on the remainder of that day,
nor on the next, until after Lord Buckhurst and his followers had left
Fotheringhay, bearing with them a long and most touching letter from
the prisoner to Queen Elizabeth.

On that day, Paulett worked himself up to the strange idea that it was
for the good of the unfortunate prisoner's soul, and an act of duty to
his own sovereign, to march into the prison chamber and announce to
Queen Mary that being a dead woman in the eye of the law, no royal
state could be permitted her, in token of which he commanded her
servants to remove the canopy over her chair. They all flatly refused
to touch it, and the women began to cry "Out upon him," for being
cowardly enough to insult their mistress, and she calmly said, "Sir,
you may do as you please. My royal state comes from God, and is not
yours to give or take away. I shall die a Queen, whatever you may do
by such law as robbers in a forest might use with a righteous judge."

Intensely angered, Sir Amias came, hobbling and stumbling out to the
door, pale with rage, and called on Talbot to come and bring his men to
tear down the rag of vanity in which this contumacious woman put her

"The men are your servants, sir," said Humfrey, with a flush on his
cheek and his teeth set; "I am here to guard the Queen of Scots, not to
insult her."

"How, sirrah? Do you know to whom you speak? Have you not sworn
obedience to me?"

"In all things within my commission, sir; but this is as much beyond
it, as I believe it to be beyond yours."

"Insolent, disloyal varlet! You are under ward till I can account with
and discharge you. To your chamber!"

Humfrey could but walk away, grieved that his power of bearing
intelligence or alleviation to the prisoner had been forfeited, and
that he should probably not even take leave of her. Was she to be left
to all the insults that the malice of her persecutor could devise? Yet
it was not exactly malice. Paulett would have guarded her life from
assassination with his own, though chiefly for his own sake, and, as he
said, for that of "saving his poor posterity from so foul a blot;" but
he could not bear, as he told Sir Drew Drury, to see the Popish,
bloodthirsty woman sit queening it so calmly; and when he tore down her
cloth of state, and sat down in her presence with his hat on, he did
not so much intend to pain the woman, Mary, as to express the triumph
of Elizabeth and of her religion. Humfrey believed his service over,
and began to occupy himself with putting his clothes together, while
considering whether to seek his father in London or to go home. After
about an hour, he was summoned to the hall, where he expected to have
found Sir Amias Paulett ready to give him his discharge. He found,
however, only Sir Drew Drury, who thus accosted him--"Young man, you
had better return to your duty. Sir Amias is willing to overlook what
passed this morning."

"I thank you, sir, but I am not aware of having done aught to need
forgiveness," said Humfrey.

"Come, come, my fair youth, stand not on these points. 'Tis true my
good colleague hath an excess of zeal, and I could wish he could have
found it in his heart to leave the poor lady these marks of dignity
that hurt no one. I would have no hand in it, and I am glad thou
wouldst not. He knoweth that he had no power to require such service
of thee. He will say no more, and I trust that neither wilt thou; for
it would not be well to change warders at this time. Another might not
be so acceptable to the poor lady, and I would fain save her all that I


Humfrey bowed, and thanked "him of milder mood," nor was any further
notice taken of this hasty dismissal.

When next he had to enter the Queen's apartments, the absence of all
the tokens of her royal rank was to him truly a shock, accustomed as he
had been, from his earliest childhood, to connect them with her, and
knowing what their removal signified.

Mary, who was writing, looked up as, with cap in hand, he presented
himself on one knee, his head bowed lower than ever before, perhaps to
hide the tear that had sprung to his eye at sight of her pale, patient

"How now, sir?" she said. "This obeisance is out of place to one
already dead in law. Don your bonnet. There is no queen here for an

"Ah! madam, suffer me. My reverence cannot but be greater than ever,"
faltered Humfrey from his very heart, his words lost in the kiss he
printed on the hand she granted him.

Mary bent "her gray discrowned head," crowned in his eyes as the Queen
of Sorrows, and said to Marie de Courcelles, who stood behind her, "Is
it not true, ma mie, that our griefs have this make-weight, namely,
that they prove to us whose are the souls whose generosity is above all
price! And what saith thy good father, my Humfrey?"

He had not ventured on bringing the letter into the apartments, but he
repeated most of the substance of it, without, however, greatly raising
the hopes of the Queen, though she was gratified that her cause was not
neglected either by her son or by her brother-in-law.

"They, and above all my poor maid, will be comforted to have done their
utmost," she said; "but I scarcely care that they should prevail. As I
have written to my cousin Elizabeth, I am beholden to her for ending my
long captivity, and above all for conferring on me the blessings and
glories of one who dies for her faith, all unworthy as I am!" and she
clasped her hands, while a rapt expression came upon her countenance.

Her chief desire seemed to be that neither Cicely nor her foster-father
should run into danger on her account, and she much regretted that she
had not been able to impress upon Humfrey messages to that effect
before he wrote in answer to his father, sending his letter by

"Thou wilt not write again?" she asked.

"I doubt its being safe," said Humfrey. "I durst not speak openly even
in the scroll I sent yesterday."

Then Mary recurred to the power which he possessed of visiting Sir
Andrew Melville and the Almoner, the Abbe de Preaux, who were shut up
in the Fetterlock tower and court, and requested him to take a billet
which she had written to the latter. The request came like a blow to
the young man. "With permission--" he began.

"I tell thee," said Mary, "this concerns naught but mine own soul. It
is nothing to the State, but all and everything to me, a dying woman."

"Ah, madam! Let me but obtain consent."

"What! go to Paulett that he may have occasion to blaspheme my faith
and insult me!" said the Queen, offended.

"I should go to Sir Drew Drury, who is of another mould," said Humfrey--

"But who dares not lift a finger to cross his fellow," said Mary,
leaning back resignedly.

"And this is the young gentleman's love for your Grace!" exclaimed Jean

"Nay, madam," said Humfrey, stung to the quick, "but I am sworn!"

"Let him alone, Nurse Jeanie!" said Mary. "He is like the rest of the
English. They know not how to distinguish between the spirit and the
letter! I understand it all, though I had thought for a moment that in
him there was a love for me and mine that would perceive that I could
ask nothing that could damage his honour or his good faith. I--who had
almost a mother's love and trust in him."

"Madam," cried Humfrey, "you know I would lay down my life for you, but
I cannot break my trust."

"Your trust, fule laddie!" exclaimed Mrs. Kennedy. "Ane wad think the
Queen speired of ye to carry a letter to Mendoza to burn and slay,
instead of a bit scart of the pen to ask the good father for his
prayers, or the like! But you are all alike; ye will not stir a hand
to aid her poor soul."

"Pardon me, madam," entreated Humfrey. "The matter is, not what the
letter may bear, but how my oath binds me! I may not be the bearer of
aught in writing from this chamber. 'Twas the very reason I would not
bring in my father's letter. Madam, say but you pardon me."

"Of course I pardon you," returned Mary coldly. "I have so much to
pardon that I can well forgive the lukewarmness and precision that are
so bred in your nature that you cannot help them. I pardon injuries,
and I may well try to pardon disappointments. Fare you well, Mr.
Talbot; may your fidelity have its reward from Sir Amias Paulett."

Humfrey was obliged to quit the apartment, cruelly wounded, sometimes
wondering whether he had really acted on a harsh selfish punctilio in
cutting off the dying woman from the consolations of religion, and thus
taking part with the persecutors, while his heart bled for her.
Sometimes it seemed to him as if he had been on the point of earning
her consent to his marriage with her daughter, and had thrown it away,
and at other moments a horror came over him lest he was being beguiled
as poor Antony had been before him. And if he let his faith slip, how
should he meet his father again? Yet his affection for the Queen
repelled this idea like a cruel injury, while, day by day, it was
renewed pain and grief to be treated by her with the gentlest and most
studied courtesy, but no longer as almost one of her own inner circle
of friends and confidants.

And as Sir Andrew Melville was in a few days more restored to her
service, he was far less often required to bear messages, or do little
services in the prison apartments, and he felt himself excluded, and
cut off from the intimacy that had been very sweet, and even a little
hopeful to him.

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