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Thus perished, in the forty-fifth year of her age, and nineteenth of her captivity in England, Mary, queen of Scots; a woman of great accomplishments both of body and mind, natural as well as acquired; but unfortunate in her life, and during one period very unhappy in her conduct. The beauties of her person and graces of her air combined to make her the most amiable of women; and the charms of her address and conversation aided the impression which her lovely figure made on the hearts of all beholders. Ambitious and active in her temper, yet inclined to cheerfulness and society; of a lofty spirit, constant and even vehement in her purpose, yet polite, and gentle, and affable in her demeanor; she seemed to partake only so much of the male virtues as to render her estimable, without relinquishing those soft graces which compose the proper ornament of her sex. In order to form a just idea of her character, we must set aside one part of her conduct, while she abandoned herself to the guidance of a profligate man; and must consider these faults, whether we admit them to be imprudences or crimes, as the result of an inexplicable, though not uncommon inconstancy in the human mind of the frailty of our nature, of the violence of passion, and of the influence which situations, and sometimes momentary incidents, have on persons whose principles are not thoroughly confirmed by experience and reflection. Enraged by the ungrateful conduct of her husband, seduced by the treacherous counsels of one in whom she reposed confidence, transported by the violence of her own temper, which never lay sufficiently under the guidance of discretion; she was betrayed into actions which may with some difficulty be accounted for, but which admit of no apology, nor even of alleviation. An enumeration of her qualities might carry the appearance of a panegyric; an account of her conduct must, in some parts, wear the aspect of severe satire and invective.
* Jebb, p. 307, 492.
Her numerous misfortunes, the solitude of her long and tedious captivity, and the persecutions to which she had been exposed on account of her religion, had wrought her up to a degree of bigotry during her later years; and such were the prevalent spirit and principles of the age, that it is the less wonder, if her zeal, her resentment, and her interest uniting, induced her to give consent to a design which conspirators, actuated only by the first of these motives, had formed against the life of Elizabeth.
When the queen was informed of Mary’s execution, she affected the utmost surprise and indignation. Her countenance changed; her speech faltered and failed her; for a long time, her sorrow was so deep that she could not express it, but stood fixed, like a statue, in silence and mute astonishment. After her grief was able to find vent, it burst out in loud wailings and lamentations; she put herself in deep mourning for this deplorable event; and she was seen perpetually bathed in tears, and surrounded only by her maids and women. None of her ministers or counsellors dared to approach her; or if any had such temerity, she chased them from her, with the most violent expressions of rage and resentment; they had all of them been guilty of an unpardonable crime, in putting to death her dear sister and kinswoman, contrary to her fixed purpose,[*] of which they were sufficiently apprised and acquainted.
* Camden, p. 586. Strype, vol. iii. Append. p. 146. Jebb. vol. ii p. 608
No sooner was her sorrow so much abated as to leave room for reflection, than she wrote a letter of apology to the king of Scots, and sent it by Sir Robert Cary, son of Lord Hunsdon. She there told him, that she wished he knew but not felt, the unutterable grief which she experienced on account of that lamentable accident which, without her knowledge, much less concurrence, had happened in England: that as her pen trembled when she attempted to write it, she found herself obliged to commit the relation of it to the messenger her kinsman; who would likewise inform his majesty of every circumstance attending this dismal and unlooked-for misfortune: that she appealed to the supreme Judge of heaven and earth for her innocence; and was also so happy amidst her other afflictions, as to find, that many persons in her court could bear witness to her veracity in this protestation: that she abhorred dissimulation; deemed nothing more worthy of a prince than a sincere and open conduct; and could never surely be esteemed so base and poor-spirited as that, if she had really given orders for this fatal execution, she could on any consideration be induced to deny them: that, though sensible of the justice of the sentence pronounced against the unhappy prisoner, she determined from clemency never to carry it into execution; and could not but resent the temerity of those who on this occasion had disappointed her intention: and that as no one loved him more dearly than herself, or bore a more anxious concern for his welfare, she hoped that he would consider every one as his enemy who endeavored, on account of the present incident, to excite any animosity between them.[*]
In order the better to appease James, she committed Davison to prison, and ordered him to be tried in the star chamber for his misdemeanor. The secretary was confounded; and being sensible of the danger which must attend his entering into a contest with the queen, he expressed penitence for his error, and submitted very patiently to be railed at by those very counsellors whose persuasion had induced him to incur the guilt, and who had promised to countenance and protect him. He was condemned to imprisonment during the queen’s pleasure, and to pay a fine of ten thousand pounds. He remained a long time in custody; and the fine, though it reduced him to beggary, was rigorously levied upon him. All the favor which he could obtain from the queen, was sending him small supplies from time to time, to keep him from perishing in necessity.[**]
* Camden, p. 536. Spotswood, p. 358. ** Camden, p. 538.
He privately wrote an apology to his friend Walsingham, which contains many curious particulars. The French and Scotch ambassadors, he said, had been remonstrating with the queen in Mary’s behalf; and immediately after their departure, she commanded him, of her own accord to deliver her the warrant for the execution of that princess. She signed it readily, and ordered it to be sealed with the great seal of England. She appeared in such good humour on the occasion, that she said to him in a jocular manner, “Go, tell all this to Walsingham, who is now sick; though I fear he will die of sorrow when he hears of it.” She added, that though she had so long delayed the execution, lest she should seem to be actuated by malice or cruelty, she was all along sensible of the necessity of it. In the same conversation, she blamed Drury and Paulet that they had not before eased her of this trouble; and she expressed her desire that Walsingham would bring them to compliance in that particular. She was so bent on this purpose, that some time after she asked Davison whether any letter had come from Paulet with regard to the service expected of him. Davison showed her Paulet’s letter, in which that gentleman positively refused to act any thing inconsistent with the principles of honor and justice. The queen fell into a passion, and accused Paulet as well as Drury of perjury; because, having taken the oath of association, in which they had bound themselves to avenge her wrongs, they had yet refused to lend their hand on this occasion. “But others,” she said, “will be found less scrupulous.” Davison adds, that nothing but the consent and exhortations of the whole council could have engaged him to send off the warrant: he was well aware of his danger; and remembered that the queen, after having ordered the execution of the duke of Norfolk, had endeavored, in a like manner, to throw the whole blame and odium of that action upon Lord Burleigh.[*]
