the Exchequer; and Gawdy, one of the justices of the Common Pleas.

Mary had been moved from one prison to another, each remove being to a worse place, and to a harsher keeper. In the spring of the preceding year, Sir Ralph Sadler had been appointed to take charge of her, to his own great grief—for Elizabeth had become so much alarmed, that no degree of vigilance and severity towards the captive could satisfy her. There was a sort of poctical justice in what happened. Sir Ralph's old age was made wretched through the Scottish queen, whose power he had undermined by matchless intrigues in her infancy, and he prayed for death to deliver him from his difficult charge and his mistress's jealousy. He was superseded by Sir Amyas Pawlet and Sir Drew Drury, both fanatical puritans and friends of the Earl of Leicester. About Christmas they had carried her, in a deplorable state both of body and mind, to Chartley Castle, in Staffordshire. On the 8th of August, a few days before the arrest of Babington, she was taken from Chartley under pretext of an airing, and carried by force to Tixhall, in the same county. She was carried back to Chartley in a few weeks; but, in the interval, her two faithful secretaries Naue and Curle had been taken into custody and conveyed to Walsingham's house, where they were kept; her cabinets at Chartley had been broken open, and a large chest had been filled from them with letters and papers, and conveyed to Walsingham. On the 10th of December, Pawlet discharged what he called Mary's superfluous servants, and seized all her money and jewels. Mary resisted at first; but, he says, "I called my servants, and sent for bars to break open the doors, whereupon she yielded." According to the gaoler's own account, he found her in bed, suffering greatly, and being bereft of the use of one of her hands.*

* Letter from Sir Amyas Pawlet to Walsingham, quoted by Raumer. At this moment we find Walsingham lamenting, as Burghley had done some years before, that Elizabeth was not prepared to do things in season, and work her own security as she ought: and he adds, in the cant of the times, "Our sins do deserve this, especially our unthankfulness for

VOL. IX.

C

A few days after the execution of Babington and the twelve other victims, orders were sent down to Sir Amyas Pawlet to remove Mary with all possible care and vigilance from Chartley to Fotheringay Castle, in Northamptonshire, the last scene of the captive's sufferings. There had been for some time a standing order to shoot the prisoner if she were found trying to escape, or if any dangerous attempt at rescue should be made. Pawlet again pretended that nothing more was meant than to revive the queen by giving her a change of air; but, avoiding the public roads, he led her about from one gentleman's house to another, and Mary knew not whither she was going until, at last, she saw herself shut up within the dismal walls of Fotheringay. When Elizabeth learnt that she was safely lodged there, her gratitude burst forth in an unusual enthusiasm to the able manager of the journey. 'Amyas, my most faithful and careful servant,' wrote the queen to the gaoler, "God Almighty reward thee treblefold for thy most troublesome charge so well discharged!" Shortly after, Pawlet received orders, "in case he heard any noise or disturbance in Mary's lodgings, or in the place where she was," to kill her outright without waiting for any further power or command. Before the trial, as after it, Elizabeth would have preferred any kind of death to that of an execution under her own warrant. But though Mary had a narrow escape one night when the chimney of her wretched dungeon took fire, she lived on. At length, on the 11th of October, thirty-six of the English commissioners arrived at Fotheringay Castle; and on the following day they sent Sir Walter Mildmay, Pawlet, and Barker, a public notary, to deliver to the prisoner a letter from Elizabeth, charging her with being accessory to the Babington conspiracy, and informing her that they were appointed to try her for that and for other treasons. Mary read the letter with composure, and replied, with great dignity, to the commissioners-that it grieved her to find her dear sister the great and singular benefits it hath pleased God to bless this land withal."

misinformed; that she had been kept in prison until she was deprived of the use of her limbs, notwithstanding her having repeatedly offered reasonable and safe conditions for her liberty; that she had given her majesty full and faithful notice of several dangers which threatened her, and yet had found no credit, but had always been slighted and despised, though so nearly allied to her majesty in blood; that when the Protestant Association was entered into, and the confirming act of parliament made upon it, she clearly foresaw that, whatever dangers should arise, either from princes abroad, or ill-disposed people at home, or for the sake of religion, the whole blame would be thrown upon her; that it seemed most strange that the queen should command her, her equal, to submit to a trial as a subject; that she was an independent queen, and one that would do nothing that might be prejudicial to her own majesty or to her son's rights; that her mind would not sink under the present calamity. "The laws and statutes of England," continued Mary, " are unknown to me; I am void of counsellors, and cannot tell who shall be my peers. My notes and papers are taken from me, and no one dares appear to be my advocate. I have committed nothing against the queen-have stirred up no man against her, and am not to be charged but from my own words or writings, which I am sure cannot be produced against me. Yet I cannot deny that I have recommended myself and my condition to foreign princes." On the next day, Pawlet and Barker returned to her from the commissioners to ask whether she persisted in her answer. She replied that she did most firmly. "But this," added she, "I had quite forgotten. queen says I am subject to the laws of England, and to be tried and judged by them, because I am under the protection of them. But to this I answer, that I came into England to demand her aid and assistance, and have ever since been detained a prisoner, so that I could not enjoy the protection of the laws of England; nor could I ever yet understand what manner of laws they were."* * Camden, Life and Reign of Elizabeth.

The

In the afternoon of the same day, there went to her certain selected persons from among the commissioners, "with men learned in the civil and canon laws," to persuade her to a compliance. The Lord Chancellor Bromley and the Lord Treasurer Burghley justified their authority by their patent and commission, told her that neither her state as a prisoner, nor her prerogative as a queen, could exempt her from subjection to the laws of England, and threatened, if she refused to plead, to proceed against her, although she were absent. She replied, with undiminished firmness, that she was no subject, nor liable to English law; that she would rather die a thousand deaths than dishonour herself by any such submission; that, however, she was willing to answer all things in a free and full parliament; and that, as for this meeting, it might probably be devised against her, who was already prejudged to die, to give some legal show and colour to their proceedings; and, therefore, she desired they would look to their consciences, and remember that the theatre of the whole world is much wider than the kingdom of England.* She then complained, in a touching manner, of her hard usage ; but Burghley interrupted her, assuring her that the queen his mistress had always treated her with a rare kindness! A few hours after, they sent her the list of the names of her judges," to let her see they designed to proceed by equity and reason." Although nearly every name was that of an inveterate enemy, she made no exceptions against the commissioners, which would have been useless; but what was equally useless-she objected strongly to the late act, upon which their commission was founded, as being unjust and unprecedented, and purposely contrived to ruin her. She said that she could not away with the queen's laws, which she had good reason to suspect; but that she was heart-whole still, and would not derogate from the honour of her ancestors the kings of Scotland, by owning herself a subject to the crown of England, and that she would rather perish utterly than answer as the queen's subject *Camden.

and a criminal person. Here Burghley interrupted her, saying, "We will, nevertheless, proceed against you to-morrow, as absent and contumax." Mary replied, "Look to your consciences." Then the perfumed and court-like Vice-Chamberlain Hatton said, "If you are innocent you have nothing to fear; but by seeking to avoid a trial, you stain your reputation with an everlasting blot." This timely speech made a great impression, and on the following morning Mary consented to plead for the sake of her reputation, but on condition that her protest against the authority of the court should be allowed. Burghley asked her if she would appear at her trial provided her protest was entered in writing, without being fully admitted by them. Here Mary ought to have replied with a decided negative; but, in reality, protest or no protest was of the slightest consequence; and as they had threatened to proceed in her absence, and as they could easily force a weak and helpless woman to their bar, the queen consented.

On the 14th of October the commissioners assembled in the presence-chamber of Fotheringay Castle. At the upper end of this hall was a vacant chair of state, royally canopied, as if for the Queen of England, and" below it, and at some distance over against," was a chair without any canopy, for the Queen of Scots. The commissioners and their assistants, including the most expert lawyers of the day, sat upon benches placed towards the wall on either side of the apartment. Mary had no assistant-no papers-no witnesses; for everything had been taken from her and yet, even according to the prejudiced accounts of her enemies, she displayed wonderful self-possession and address; and, in the striking words of a modern, and perhaps too favourable historian, she for two whole days kept at bay the hunters of her life. Upon her first entrance, as soon as she had taken her seat, the Chancellor Bromley told her that the most serene Queen Elizabeth, being informed, to her great grief and trouble of mind, that she had

*

* Dr. Lingard.