And these our Letters Patents, sealed with our Great Seal of England,
shall be to you, and to all persons that shall be present, a full
sufficient Warrant and discharge forever.
In witness whereof, we have caused these our Letters to be made
Patents. Given at our manor of Greenwich, the first day of February,
in the twenty-ninth year of our reign.
Elizabeth laid it on her desk and quickly signed it with her bold
signature:
Elizabeth R. Davison was staring at her.
"Well?" she snapped. "Take it to the Lord Chancellor Bromley for the
Great Seal. Keep the matter secret. But you might be so kind as to
stop at Sir Walsingham's home, where he lies sick abed. The grief of
seeing this will go near to killing him outright."
But she did not smile as she said it, and Davison did not dare to,
either.
She handed him the warrant, still with a stony face. "The execution
should be kept as secret as possible, and take place at Fotheringhay."
She paused, then said angrily, "Others who loved me might have spared
me this burden! To have been brought to this pass before all the
world! I would that some might take it upon themselves to prove their
love and loyalty and save me from the censure of the world!"
"Dearest Queen, I "
"Pray, join Walsingham in writing to Paulet. Urge him to find some way
to shorten the life of that Queen, other than " She pointed at the
warrant.
Shaking with fear and excitement, Davison took the precious warrant and
rushed to Walsingham's London house. He found him in bed, his swollen
leg propped up on a pillow. But when the warrant was unrolled before
his eyes, he sat up like a man seeing a holy vision.
"At last! Can it be?" He read it over and over.
"There is something else," murmured Davison. "Her Majesty is loath to
carry it out. She wishes to be relieved of the burden. In short, she
wants Paulet to murder the Queen before she can reach the block."
Walsingham groaned. "Oh, no!"
"And we are commanded to write this 'suggestion' to Paulet."
"Oh, no!"
"Yes."
"So she herself is stooping to that for which the Queen of Scots is
condemned to die!" cried Walsingham. "Oh, I am sick indeed!"
When Davison left Walsingham's house, he carried with him a second
paper, addressed to Sir Amyas Paulet.
After our hearty commendations, we find by speech lately uttered by Her
Majesty that she doth note in you both a lack of that care and zeal of
her service that she looketh for at your hands, in that you have not in
all this time found some way to shorten the life of that Queen of
Scots, considering the great peril Queen Elizabeth is subject to hourly
as long as the Queen of Scots shall live.
And therefore she take th it most unkindly towards her, that men
professing that love towards her that you do, should, for lack of the
discharge of your duties, cast the burden on her, knowing as you do her
indisposition to shed blood, especially of one of that sex and quality,
and so near to her in blood as the said Queen is.
Davison hurried through the night to the Lord Chancellor Bromley's
home, where he obtained the Great Seal of yellow wax. Then together
they sought out Cecil, after dispatching the private letter to
Fotheringhay.
The next morning, Cecil gathered with the rest of the Privy
Councillors, still clutching the precious warrant. Davison described
what the Queen had said; he had been called back to her side just that
morning.
"She swore a great oath and said she wished to hear no more about it
until it was done," he said. "She had told me to delay a bit having
the Great Seal affixed. Then, in the next breath, she said she would
it were over and done with." He shook his head in confusion.
"I know her well," said Cecil. "We must carry through the order. We
must take it upon ourselves. If we all act in unison, the punishment
cannot fall on one individual alone. But we must hurry, before she
changes her mind! Beale, prepare yourself to leave London immediately
for Fothering-hay!"
"Walsingham will procure the executioner," said Davison. "He considers
it his duty."
The next morning, with Beale safely on his way, accompanied by the
earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, Davison found himself called back yet
again to Greenwich and Queen Elizabeth's side.
"Ah! My dear Davison!" she said sweetly. "I had the most peculiar
and disturbing dream about you last night!"
"Yes?"
"I dreamed I was forced to run you through with a sword, for having
caused the death of the Queen of Scots." She did not let her voice
play with the words, but just said them straight.
"Madam, most gracious Queen is it your will that the execution
proceed?" he said faintly. He wondered where Beale was at that
moment.
"God's breath and liver, yes!" she cried. "Yes, it is my will! I
would that it were done!" Then she rounded him and said, "Is there any
reply from Paulet?"
"Yes. I just received this as I was leaving."
She snatched the letter from him and tore it open. Her eyes took in
the entire contents at a glance and she flung it to the floor. "Oh,
these over-conscientious fools!" She stamped her foot. "God's angels
in Hell! Read this!" She shoved it at him.
Sirs, Walsingham and Davison:
Your letter of yesterday coming to my hands this present day at five in
the afternoon, I would not fail according to your directions to return
my answer with all possible speed, which I shall deliver unto you with
great grief and bitterness of mind. I am so unhappy to have lived to
see this unhappy day, in which I am directed by my most gracious
sovereign to do an act which God and the law forbids. My good livings
and life are at Her Majesty's disposal, and I am ready so to lose them
tomorrow if it shall so please her, acknowledging that I hold them as
of her mere and most gracious favour, and do not desire to enjoy them,
but with her Highness' good liking. But God forbid that I should make
so foul a shipwreck of my conscience, or leave so great a blot to my
poor posterity, to shed blood without law or warrant.
"Oh, these tender fellows, who swore in the Bond to perform great deeds
to protect me, but all they perform is words!" cried Elizabeth.
"Madam I am sure that Paulet loves and honours you," said Davison.
"Oh, go!" she snapped. "It is time the matter were dispatched! Jesu!
It is a shame it is not already done, seeing that I have done all that
law and reason can require of me!"
Three carriages were bumping along the road to Fotheringhay: in one
rode Beale, carrying the warrant with the Seal. He reached
Fotheringhay in the evening of Sunday, February fifth, two days after
he had left London, and only a few hours after Elizabeth had dismissed
Davison for the last time. He went straight to the castle and sought
out Paulet.
Close on his heels was a closed carriage in which a man dressed all in
black velvet sat, a box discreetly tucked under his feet. This was a
Mr. Simon Bull, professional executioner, and he carried his axe with
him in the box. Walsingham's servant Digby accompanied him. When they
arrived at Fotheringhay, they lodged in an inn, and waited for the
summons. No neighbouring nobleman wanted to house them.
Farther back, a third carriage transported the Earl of Shrewsbury and
the Earl of Kent to Fotheringhay. Their mission had been disguised
under another commission to hear legal cases in Bedfordshire and
Hertfordshire. The Queen's wishes that the execution should take place
swiftly and secretly were to be carried out. Shrewsbury looked
forlornly at the passing countryside and wished with all the force in
his being that he were not involved in this grisly, tragic mission.
The Queen of Scots changed my life, he thought. Keeping her in custody
for fourteen years steered my fortunes both at court and in my
marriage.... I would it had never happened. But would I have been
content never to have known her? Oh had I not known her, yes. But
now, never.. .
He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He was going to
have to tell her what was to happen, and then he would have to witness
it. He did not know if he could bear it.
THIRTY-ONE
What is all that howling?" asked Jane Kennedy. Outside the tower,
voices were rising.
Mary gestured to her to look out the window. She herself found that
movement was so painful that she tried to ration herself to only the
most urgent tasks.
Jane pulled open the shutters and gave a gasp.
"It's a a bright light in the heavens " she cried. "No a flame!" she
shrieked, and drew back. "At the window!"
As Mary watched, flames seemed to encircle the window frame; little
darts of fire shot into the room. Alarmed, she jumped up and went to
the window.
The flames had withdrawn, seemingly sucked up into the air. Outside,
on the ground, the guards were moaning and rubbing their eyes. The
light had blinded them.
Then, suddenly, the flames struck again, withdrew, struck again, before
finally fading away.
Mary clung to the windowsill, gasping for breath.
"It is here," she said. "This is a portent."
Below, people were milling. She heard the guards say, "Nowhere else
just here, under her windows ..." They looked up, fear in their eyes.
"It's her."
Mary closed the shutters, her hands shaking.
She lay on her bed, stiff and aching. Her body seemed to have
undergone a rebellion: it did not want to rise.
When it was reasonably light, she called Bourgoing to her side. "Do
you remember the herbs that helped me when I was so rigid in my knees?
Do you think it is possible to get any more? I must regain my
mobility. For when the summons for my death comes, I would not wish to
be unable to rise from my bed. It might be construed as reluctance or
fear!" Her voice was firm.
"I will ask Paulet, Madam," he said. "In the meantime, have your
ladies massage your limbs, and put hot wet cloths on them."
After the midday meal, Bourgoing approached Paulet and confided to him
their desperate state. "She can hardly bend her limbs. There are
certain herbs that can help. Would it be possible could you allow me
to go into the fields to collect them?"
Paulet looked uncomfortable, and less sure of himself than usual.
"Write down the names of the plants you require, and I will send
someone out for them," he finally said.
"Gladly would I, but I know not the English names." Seeing Paulet's
frown, he added, "I am not trying to be difficult. It is the truth,
God help me."
Paulet wrinkled his face and bit his lips. "I will consult with Sir
Drue Drury, my new associate here, and if he agrees, tomorrow you may
go out with the apothecary."
"Outside the castle?" Bourgoing was surprised.