"Alas! poor souls," replied the Queen, "they will do none of the things you fear, my lords; I promise you that in their name. No, your Queen, who is a maiden Queen, cannot have given this cruel order to refuse to the women of another Queen the consolation of assisting at her death. Assuredly you would not wish to refuse me such a just request. My dear women only ask one boon—that of being present at my last moments." As Mary uttered these words she was observed to weep, the first tears she had shed since the reading of the warrant of execution.
Kent and Shrewsbury still hesitated. "Do you then forget," exclaimed the Queen, with noble indignation, "that I am cousin to your Queen, that I am of the blood royal of Henry VII., that I am Queen-Dowager of France, and anointed Queen of Scotland?"[137]
Vanquished by this appeal, the commissioners permitted that Jane Kennedy and Elizabeth Curle, the two women designated by Mary, should accompany her.[138]
The procession now moved on and entered the hall; the sheriff and his escort leading the way, followed by Paulet, Drury, Beale, and the two earls. The Queen followed, attended by Bourgoing and her other servants, Melville carrying her train.
The great hall of the castle was hung entirely with black. At the upper end of the apartment, near the large Gothic fireplace, "in which was a great fire,"[139] stood the scaffold, which was raised about two feet from the ground, and measured about twelve feet square. It was covered with black serge, as were the stool and cushion prepared for the Queen, and surrounded on three sides by a balustrade, made low enough to allow the spectators to see all that passed. At the fourth side, towards the end of the hall, the scaffold was approached by two steps. The block, made of oak and covered also with black, was placed near the chimney-piece. By it stood the executioner and his assistant, both in long black velvet gowns, with white aprons, and both wearing black masks. The executioner bore a large axe mounted with a short handle, "like those with which they cut wood."[140] In front of the block chairs were placed for my Lords Kent and Shrewsbury. Two other chairs, placed higher up the room, outside the balustrade, awaited Paulet and Drury. Round the scaffold was stationed a guard of halberdiers, the men of Huntingdon.[141] Among the 300 spectators who alone were permitted to enter the hall might be observed Lord Montague, his eldest son, and Robert Tyrell. A large crowd surrounded the castle, kept in order by a troop of horsemen which had arrived the preceding night.
The Queen had now reached the threshold of the hall.[142] When she perceived the scaffold she elevated the crucifix which she carried above her head, and undismayed by the terrible scene before her, advanced with great dignity.[143] Arrived at the scaffold, Mary, unable to ascend the steps without assistance, accepted Paulet's arm, saying gently, "Thanks for your courtesy, Sir Amyas; this will be the last trouble I shall give you, and the most agreeable service you have ever rendered me." Mary seated herself on the stool covered with black prepared for her with her usual grace and majesty, Shrewsbury and Kent standing on each side of her, the sheriff in front. She made the sign of the cross, then addressing Elizabeth's officers, she begged them of their good pleasure to bring her chaplain to her, in order that she might console herself in God, and receive from him some admonitions with his last blessing; the which was absolutely refused her. Beale now ascended the scaffold and read aloud the royal commission for the execution.[144] The Queen appeared to be listening attentively, but those near her observed, by the expression of her countenance, that her thoughts had left the things of this world and were occupied with those of heaven. At the conclusion of the sentence the hall rang with a loud "God save the Queen." Mary, unmoved by this demonstration, made the sign of the cross.[145] Shrewsbury, turning to her, said, "Madame, you hear what we are commanded to do."
"Do your duty," Mary answered simply. She again made the sign of the cross, and looking at the assembly "with a joyous countenance, her beauty more apparent than ever, a bright colour in her face," she made a speech, of which her servants recorded the sense at least, if not the text.
"My lords," said Mary, "I was born a queen, a sovereign princess, not subject to laws, a near relative of the Queen of England and her legitimate heir. After having been long and wrongfully imprisoned in this country, where I have endured many pains and evils, no one having any right or power over me, I am now, through force, and being in men's power, about to close my life. I thank my God that He has permitted that in this hour I die for my religion, and that He has given me this grace that before dying I have been brought before a company who will be witness that I die Catholic. As to the crime which they have fixed upon me—the death of the Queen—I never suggested it, nor consented to it, nor to anything against her person. I have always loved her, and the country also. I have offered myself, under many good and most honourable conditions, to bring to an end the troubles of this kingdom and my deliverance from captivity, but I was neither heard nor believed. You, my lords, and you, Beale, know this. At last my enemies have come to the end of their designs to make me die; however, I forgive them with a good heart, as I do all those who have done or attempted anything against me; and each one, whoever he may be, who may have offended me, or done me harm, as I beg all to be so good as to forgive me. After my death it will be known and seen to what end those who are the authors of my being sent from this world have desired and procured my death. I accuse no one any more than I have done previously; my tongue shall do harm to no one."[146]
The Dean of Peterborough, Dr. Fletcher, now advanced, and placing himself in front of the Queen, made her a profound reverence, and said that he had come to her by his mistress's command in order to prepare her for death.
"Peace, Mr. Dean," replied Mary gently, "I have nothing to do with you; I do not wish to hear you; you can be silent if you please, and go from hence."[147] And as he began again to exhort her, Mary said resolutely, "You gain nothing; I will not listen to you; be silent, please," and turned her back upon him. Fletcher, however, continued to insist, placing himself again before her and exhorting her to repent "of her crimes," till Shrewsbury, shocked, bade him be silent and begin to pray.