“Shrewsbury.
“Orton Longville, this 17th November, 1586.”
In spite of illness, Shrewsbury could not escape the wretched responsibility of assisting at the tragedy of Fotheringay. There he was forced, on February 8th, 1587, to stand upon the high stage, seven feet square and five feet high, to receive Mary as she mounted it to her death. “At the two upper corners were two stools set,” runs the record,[[82]] “one for the Earl of Shrewsbury, another for the Earl of Kent; directly between the said stools was placed a block one foot high, covered with black, and before that stood a little cushioned stool for the Queen to sit on while her apparel was taken off.... Being come into the hall, she stayed and with a smiling countenance asked Shrewsbury why none of her own servants were suffered to be present. He answered that the Queen, his mistress, had so commanded. ‘Alas,’ quoth she, ‘far meaner persons than myself have not been denied so small a favour, and I hope the Queen’s Majesty will not deal so hardly with me.’ ‘Madam,’ quoth Shrewsbury, ‘it is so appointed to avoid two inconveniences: the one that it is likely your people will shriek and make some fearful noise in the time of your execution, and so both trouble you and us, or else press with some disorder to get of your blood and keep it for a relic, and minister offence that way.’ ‘My Lord,’ she answered, ‘I pray you for my better quietness of mind let me have some of my servants about me, and I will give you my word that they shall not offend in any sort.’ Upon which promise two of her women and five of her men were sent for, who coming into the hall and seeing the place of execution prepared and their sovereign mistress expecting death, they began to cry out in most woeful and pitiful sort; wherewith she held up her hand, willing them for her sake to forbear and be silent, ‘for,’ quoth she, ‘I have passed my word to these lords that you shall be quiet and not offend them.’ And presently there appeared in them a wonderful show of subjection and loyal obedience as to their natural prince, whom even at the instant of death they honoured with all reverence and duty. For though their breasts were seen to rise and swell as if their wounded hearts would have burst in sunder, yet did they, to their double grief, forbear their outward plaints to accomplish her pleasure.
Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby
STATUE OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS AT HARDWICK HALL
Page [310]
“As soon as she was upon the stage there came to her a heretic called Doctor Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, and told her how the Queen his sovereign, moved with an unspeakable care of her soul, had sent him to instruct and comfort her in the true words of God. At which she somewhat turned her face towards him, saying, ‘Mr. Doctor, I will have nothing to do with you nor your doctrine’; and forthwith kneeled down before the block and began her meditations in most godly manner. Then the doctor entered also into a form of new-fashioned prayers; but the better to prevent the hearing of him, she raised her voice, and prayed so loud, as he could not be understood. The Earl of Shrewsbury then spoke to her and told her that he would pray with her and for her. ‘My Lord,’ quoth she, ‘if you will pray for me I thank you; but, in so doing, pray secretly by yourself, for we will not pray together.’ Her meditations ended, she arose up and kissed her two gentlewomen, and bowed her body towards her men, and charged them to remember her to her sweet son, to whom she sent her blessing, with promise to pray for him in heaven; and lastly to salute her friends, and so took her last farewell of her poor servants.
“The executioners then began, after their rough and rude manner, to disrobe her, and while they were so doing, she looked upon the noblemen, and smilingly said, ‘Now truly, my Lords, I never had two such grooms waiting on me before!’ Then, being ready for the block, one of her women took forth a handkerchief of cambric—all wrought over with gold needlework—and tied it about her face; which done, Fletcher willed her to die in the true faith of Christ. Quoth she: ‘I believe firmly to be saved by the passion and blood of Jesus Christ, and therein also I believe according to the faith of the Ancient Catholic Church of Rome, and therefore I shed my blood.’”
After this the Earl went home, evidently to Sheffield, with time enough to brood once more upon his sickness and his troubles. In 1587 he was certainly at Wingfield with his wife—at least for a brief space—for he wrote to inform Burghley of the fact in obedience to her Majesty’s request. But he was still thoroughly suspicious and distrustful of her attitude. On one occasion, as it seems by the following letter from Nicholas Kynnersley, my Lady had just left Wingfield when my Lord sent his man Gilbert Dickenson to enquire her movements. The letter which puts the magnificent pair in such a pitiful light is relieved by a gracious allusion to little Arabella, left behind at Wingfield, apparently in Kynnersley’s charge:—
“The night after John was come with my letter Elizabeth told me that Gilbert Dickenson came to her in the [bakehouse] and asked if your Ho. were here; and she answered ‘No.’ And he asked when you went away, and she said ‘Yesterday.’ He asked when you would come again; she answered ‘Shortly as she thought.’ And late at night there came a boy from Sheffield in a green coat, and talked with them in the stable, and said he must go very early in the morning to Sheffield again. What the meaning of these questions and the lackey coming so late and going so early in the morning, I know not, except it be to bring me Lo. words of your absence here, and so that he might come upon you sudden and find you away. So I leave it to your Ho. wisdom to consider of it as you think best; but I think good you were there. Mr. Knifton rode by to-day to Sheffield as I was told, and called not as I ... told which I marvel of. My La. Arbella at eight of the clock this night was merry, and eats her meat well; but she went not to the school these six days; therefore I would be glad of your La. coming, if there were no other matter but that. So I beseech the Almighty preserve your La. in health, and send you soon a good and comfortable end of all your great troubles and griefs.
“Wingfield, this Tuesday, the 5th of November, at 8 of the clock at night, 1588.