“It is because of the death of the Queen of Scots,” was the answer. Elizabeth said not a word. A day or two later she was told that Mary had been executed at Fotheringay Castle. She turned pale, she burst into tears, she stormed at her councilors. “Never shall your crime be pardoned,” she raged. “You well knew that I did not mean my kinswoman to be put to death. You have dared to usurp my authority, and you are worse traitors than my poor cousin. As for you, Burleigh, do you never dare show yourself in my presence again. I have made you and I can unmake you. That fellow Davison knew that I did not mean the warrant to be carried out. Take him to the Tower.”
“He is very ill, your Majesty,” said one.
“Then take his illness with him, for into the Tower he goes.”
“Your Majesty,” pleaded the councilors, “if your secretary Davison is imprisoned, the lords of your council will be regarded as plotters and murderers.”
“What is that to me?” cried Elizabeth. “They who murder must expect to be called murderers.”
Davison was imprisoned for some time and was fined so heavily that he was reduced to poverty. Elizabeth sent a copy of his sentence to King James and also a letter telling him that the execution of his mother was a “miserable accident.” James was easily comforted. He had been taught to look upon her as a shame and disgrace to himself. If she had not been the murderer of his father, she had, at least, married the murderer, and within three months after the commission of the crime. He was lawful heir to the throne of England, but he knew that she had done all that lay in her power to deprive him of his birthright. He wrote an earnest letter to Elizabeth in the attempt to save his mother’s life, but it was soon followed by a sort of apology and an intimation that all would be well if she would formally recognize him as her successor.
It is probable that there will always be two opinions in regard to the justice of Mary’s execution.
“She fled to England for refuge,” says one, “and should have been set free.”
“To set her free would have been to deliver her up to the foes who would have taken her life,” says the other, “or else to the friends who would have made war against England.”
“A prisoner cannot be blamed for seeking liberty.”