Life of Elizabeth I (65 page)

By now, the conspirators were openly bragging of their enterprise and toasting its success in London inns. Babington had also commissioned a group portrait of himself and the future regicides 'as a memorial of so worthy an act'.

On 5 July, Elizabeth and James VI concluded the Treaty of Berwick, which provided for each monarch to help the other in the event of any invasion. This meant that Philip would not be able to invade England through its northern border. The news of her son's ultimate betrayal reached Mary just as Babington was asking her blessing on his plot; it caused her 'the greatest anguish, despair and grief and gave impetus to her endorsement of the conspiracy.

During July, Leicester put it to Elizabeth that the surest way to winning the Dutch war would be for her to accept the sovereignty of the Netherlands. Horrified at the prospect of such a drain on her treasury, and fearful of provoking Philip too far, she reacted hysterically. Then, having calmed down, she wrote to him, rationally explaining her reluctance, and adding: 'Rob, I am afraid you will suppose by my wandering writings that a midsummer moon hath taken large possession of my brains this month, but you must take things as they come in my head, though order be left behind me . . . Now will I end, that do imagine I talk still with you, and therefore loathly say farewell, Eyes, though ever I pray God bless you from all harm, and save you from all your foes, with my million and legion thanks for all your pains and cares. As you know, ever the same, E.R.'

There was to be no more talk of her accepting the Dutch crown.

By August, Walsingham had gathered together most of the evidence he needed to bring the Queen of Scots to her death, and he now decided that it was not worth waiting for Babington to reply to Mary; he must strike now, before either of them got wind of what was going on and burned their correspondence, which Walsingham meant to produce in court.

On 4 August, Ballard was arrested and sent to the Tower, on the grounds that he was a Catholic priest. Learning of this through his friends, Babington panicked, seeking out one of his regicides, Savage, and telling him he should murder the Queen that very day. Savage, although ready to do so, pointed out that he would not be admitted to the court because he was too shabbily dressed, whereupon Babington 
gave him a ring, instructing him to sell it and use the proceeds to buy a new suit of clothes. But there was no time, and that evening Babington fled and went into hiding, at which point Elizabeth revealed to Burghley what had been going on and ordered him to issue a proclamation condemning the conspiracy. Copies of the painting of the conspirators were quickly made and distributed throughout the kingdom so that loyal subjects might identify the regicides: the hue and cry was on.

On 9 August, whilst Mary was out hunting near Chartley, Paulet had her belongings searched, impounding three chests full of letters, jewellery and money, which he forwarded to Walsingham. He apprehended her secretaries, Gilbert Curie and Claude Nau, and then rode out on to the moors, where he arrested Mary herself. In floods of tears, she was taken to a nearby house to compose herself before being brought back under guard to Chartley.

The Queen wrote to Paulet: 'Amyas, my most faithful and careful servant, God reward thee treblefold in the double for thy most troublesome charge so well discharged. Let your wicked murderess know how with heavy sorrow her vile deserts compelleth these orders, and bid her from me ask God forgiveness for her treacherous dealings towards the saviour of her life many a year, to the intolerable peril of my own.'

Elizabeth ordered that Mary's servants be dismissed and replaced with new ones chosen by Paulet; nor did she relent when she was informed that Mary was ill at the prospect of losing these friends.

Babington, his face 'sullied with the rind of green walnuts', was discovered lurking in St John's Wood north of London on r4 August, and taken to the Tower the next day. When news of the arrests was made public, the bells of London pealed out in jubilation and the citizens gave thanks, lit bonfires and held street parties. Elizabeth was deeply touched by these demonstrations of love and loyalty, and sent a moving letter of thanks to the City.

When Babington's house was searched, many seditious Catholic tracts were found, as well as prophecies of the Queen's death. By now, fourteen men were in custody, charged with high treason. Examined in the Tower by Burghley, Hatton and Lord Chancellor Bromley on 18 August, Babington, fearful of torture and naively believing that cooperation would lead to a pardon, confessed that he had plotted to assassinate the Queen, and made the first of seven detailed statements describing the conspiracy, in which he made no attempt to protect Mary or any of his collaborators. Curie and Nau confirmed that Walsingham's copy of Mary's fateful letter was identical with the original.

The Council now demanded that the Queen summon Parliament to deal with the Queen of Scots. Elizabeth tried to stall, knowing that the 
Lords and Commons would insist on a trial and execution which she would have no choice but to sanction. Her advisers were implacable, pointing out that if the lesser conspirators, Babington and his friends, were to suffer the punishment the law demanded for their treason, then the chief conspirator, Mary, should not escape. On 9 September, with a heavy heart, Elizabeth capitulated and summoned Parliament.

On 13 September, Babington and his associates were put on trial. The verdict was a foregone conclusion, but the Queen insisted that the punishment usually meted out to traitors was insufficient in this case of 'horrible treason'. Burghley told Hatton, 'I told Her Majesty that, if the execution shall be duly and orderly executed by protracting the same both to the extremity of the pain and in the sight of the people, the manner of the death would be as terrible as any new device could be. But Her Majesty was not satisfied, but commanded me to declare it to the judge.'

The normal practice at such executions was for the executioner to ensure that the victims were dead before disembowelling them. In Burghley's opinion, ensuring that the lives - and agony - of Babington and the rest were prolonged for as long as possible would be a sufficiently awful punishment, and at length he won the Queen round to this view.

At his trial, although Babington admitted his guilt with 'a wonderful good grace', he insisted that it was Father Ballard who had been the instigator of the plot. Ballard, on the rack in the Tower, had admitted only that there had indeed been a conspiracy. The Queen had not wanted Mary Stuart's name mentioned during the trial, but when her commissioners pointed out to her that this would make nonsense of the evidence, she agreed that the references to Mary in the indictment and Babington's confessions could remain.

On 20 September, Babington, Ballard and five other conspirators were dragged on hurdles from Tower Hill to St Giles's Fields at Holborn, where a scaffold and a gallows 'of extraordinary height' had been set up. Here, in front of vast crowds, the condemned men suffered the full horrors of a traitor's death, Babington protesting to the end that he believed he had been engaged in 'a deed lawful and meritorious'. According to Camden, Ballard suffered first: he and the others 'hanged never a whit' before they were cut down and had 'their privities cut off and bowels taken out alive and seeing' before being beheaded and quartered.
In extremis,
Babington cried out, 'Spare me, Lord Jesus!' The people, whose mood had been vindictive, were revolted by the savagery they had witnessed and expressed such unexpected sympathy for the victims that, when the remaining seven conspirators were delivered to the executioner the next day, the Queen gave orders that the prisoners 
were to hang until they were dead before being disembowelled and quartered.

The executions gave rise to a flood of ballads and pamphlets, so that soon 'all England was acquainted with this horrible conspiracy' and not only the Council, but the people also were clamouring for Mary Stuart, the chief focus of the plot, to be tried and executed. Even now, however, Elizabeth wanted to spare Mary's life, if only because she could not countenance the execution of an anointed queen. She had hoped that the deaths of the conspirators would satisfy her subjects' thirst for blood and retribution, but, she realised, she was mistaken.

Her councillors pointed out that there were many good reasons for proceeding against Mary under the new statute. There was no doubt that Mary had plotted against her life, and evidence supporting this could be produced in court. James VI was unlikely to cause trouble, for he could only benefit from his mother's death. Mary's removal would clear the way for a Protestant heir who would be acceptable to the English people. It would also remove the chief focus for Catholic discontent and rebellion. The French had long since abandoned Mary, and King Philip could have no worse intentions towards Elizabeth than those he already cherished.

Above all, the Queen was urged to think of her people, who had become unsettled and fearful as a result of recent events and were now a prey to rumour-mongers, who were spreading alarming stories that Elizabeth had been killed, or that Parma had invaded Northumberland. To be on the safe side, the fleet was sent to patrol the coast, and people became more vigilant in hunting out papist priests.

The mounting sense of imminent catastrophe unsettled Paulet, who warned that he could not keep Mary secure at Chartley indefinitely, and urged that she be moved to another stronghold. The Council wanted her sent to the Tower, but the Queen was appalled at the prospect and flatly refused; she also raised objections to every other fortress they suggested, but at length, she was persuaded to agree to Mary being transferred to Fotheringhay, a medieval castle in Northamptonshire that had in the fifteenth century been the seat of the royal House of York. Mary was brought there on 25 September.

It was still by no means certain that Elizabeth would allow her cousin to be put on trial. While she conceded that there was every justification for it, she was aware that Mary's supporters would argue that the Queen of Scots was not only a foreigner who was not subject to English law, but an anointed sovereign, answerable to God alone for her actions. The question had already been put to a team of English lawyers, who had debated the matter in depth and now concluded that Elizabeth was within her rights to prosecute Mary under the statute of 1585.

The Queen realised that there was nothing more she could do to prevent the trial from going ahead. Reluctantly, she agreed to the appointing of thirty-six commissioners - Privy Councillors, peers and justices - who would consider the evidence and act as judges, and at the end of September these men began arriving at Fotheringhay. Among them were Burghley, Walsingham, Hatton and Paulet, as well as two Catholic lords, Montague and Lumley, to ensure impartiality.

On 10 October, a very concerned Leicester urged the Queen from the Netherlands to allow the law to take its course. 'It is most certain', he wrote to Walsingham, 'if you would have Her Majesty safe, it must be done, for justice doth crave it besides policy.' It was frustrating for him to be out of England at such a time, and he longed to return and use his influence with the Queen to make her understand what she must do.

On 11 October, the court assembled, but Mary refused to acknowledge its competence to try her, declaring that she was a twice anointed queen and not subject to the ordinary laws of England, and refusing to attend. Burghley was aware that this would dangerously compromise the trial, and urged her to reconsider.

'In England, under Her Majesty's jurisdiction, a free prince offending is subject to her laws,' he told Mary.

'I am no subject, and I would rather die a thousand deaths than acknowledge myself to be one!' she flared. In that case, Burghley warned, she would be tried in her absence. Hatton urged her to take advantage of the public platform a trial would afford her and clear herself of the charges against her, while Elizabeth herself wrote coldly to Mary: 'You have in various ways and manners attempted to take my life and bring my kingdom to destruction by bloodshed. It is my will that you answer the nobles and peers of the kingdom, as if I were myself present.'

At this, Mary capitulated, although she still refused to acknowledge the court's jurisdiction, and on 14 October, her trial began, the main charge being that she had entered into a treasonable conspiracy against the Queen's life.

Careful preparations had ensured that the proceedings would be conducted in a proper and lawful manner, but, as was usual in state trials of the period, Mary was permitted no counsel to aid her; instead, she conducted her own defence. Limping as a result of chronic rheumatism, she appeared before the commissioners, a tall, black-clad, 'big-made', middle-aged woman with a face 'full and fat, double-chinned and hazel- eyed', who confidently, passionately, even indignantly, denied all knowledge of the Babington Plot. Her crucial letter to Babington was, she claimed, a forgery; indeed, she had never received a single letter from him. As for sanctioning the murder of the Queen, 'I would never 
make shipwreck of my soul by compassing the death of my dearest sister,' she protested. All she had ever done during her captivity was to seek help to gain her freedom wherever it might be found.

Her eloquent defence was crushed, of course, by the weight of the evidence against her, which was irrefutable. Burghley concluded that her guilt was established beyond all doubt. The commissioners saw their duty clear, and were just about to pronounce Mary guilty when a messenger arrived with the Queen's command, issued in the middle of the night since Elizabeth had been unable to sleep, that the court be adjourned to London to reconvene in ten days' time.

The Lord Chancellor formally prorogued the court on to October, and the commissioners returned south. Mary was left to ponder her fate at Fotheringhay whilst they again examined the evidence in the Court of Star Chamber at Westminster, patiently enduring the Queen's constant interference. 'I would to God Her Majesty would be content to refer these things to them that can best judge of them, as other princes do,' fumed Walsingham. But the judges' conclusions remained the same as before and, with only one dissenting voice, they pronounced Mary guilty of being an accessory to the conspiracy and of imagining and compassing Her Majesty's destruction. Under the statute of 1585, these were offences punishable by death and disinheritance.