The Last Days of Mary Stuart, and the journal of Bourgoyne her physician. Samuel Cowan
mission of certain of my servants to my son, which had been granted to me in order to make an end with him of the hindrance which they alleged he made to my treaty of liberation, and which they said prevented the Queen from going further into it, I have been shut up entirely out of the way and separated from him, in order the better to reunite him to our common enemies here and to expose or subject him to his rebellious subjects. For my safety in this bondage there is nobody of judgment who does not consider it less at present than in the hands of one of the peers and lords of this kingdom, of reputation, force, and power sufficient to preserve me against the attempts of my enemies whatever may happen; which has always been my principal desire since they have removed me from the custody of Lord Shrewsbury; and in that I do not mean to do wrong to my present keeper, whom in other respects I consider a very honourable gentleman and faithful servant of his mistress.
“With regard to my condition and treatment here, which the said Queen had expressly written to me she wished to do all things very honourably as far as to disclaim that of the past, I must say in a word that I find myself at the present time rather confined in a gaol than in a prince's captivity, much below me or whom they could by right of war or otherwise justly detain. I am interdicted from all private correspondence with my son, to whose welfare and preservation as I feel myself obliged to have regard, so much the more I have of sorrow and torture in being unable to render him this maternal duty in the straits and necessity wherein he very often is.
“As to my private affairs, you are aware of the severity exercised at Chartley when he came to give an account of them, so that his journey to me amounted almost to nothing.
“My servants' despatches are delivered to me with so much delay, and mine to them, that the opportunities usually slip away before I can make use of them, the necessity, nevertheless, for it being such, that I am put as they say to my last shift. The place in which I am is made so detestable by the severity which is exercised to all who approach to it even for the ordinary conveniences necessary for me and my servants, and I am seldom permitted to do good to any poor person in the neighbourhood, the distribution of my alms having been removed from me this year, that it was too apparent how much they endeavour to make me be reputed and held as some savage and complete stranger, and so insult those not only who should have some respect for me, but whoever will have anything to do with me and my servants.
“I have not until now had so much need of having a fixed residence in which I might settle myself with the conveniences requisite for my health, being but as one passing from inn to inn.
“In like manner the expenditure of my household remains, from what I hear, so uncertain that I cannot in any way check it, being always dependent on the goodwill of the person who shall have charge of me for retrenching and disposing of it as he shall think fit. The freedom promised for my exercise with some recreation has not been preserved to me, being now prohibited from going out on festival days, without considering that in consequence of my ailments, and that the time does not always suit, especially winter, I must take it when I can. Other encroachments have been made which I cannot construe, but the restriction and deterioration of my former state, instead of having it amended as they promised me: it serving no purpose to say that the time has not been suitable for it, owing to the disorders which have happened in Christendom, as they have always replied to me, except that they wish more plainly to say that they cannot find the time suitable for doing me a good act. It is unreasonable to make me suffer for that of which I am not the cause, and perchance the treaty between the said Queen and me had by it prevented a part. I had hoped that the evidence of my sincerity destroying in her impressions to the contrary would revive towards me her good disposition, and procure for me the satisfaction of passing the little of life that remains to me in the close friendship which I have always so much desired with her. But alas! I fear that the evil has gone so far as to be irremediable, however I may endeavour to place the good against the evil, my enemies being unable to content themselves with this my long-suffering and imprisonment, or that in it I may never have any peace of mind or body. And to speak still more freely to you, necessity making me thereon, to my great regret, overcome shame. I begin to be very ill attended to in my own person, and with no regard to my infirm state, which deprives me in a manner mostly of all appetite. For which if they had been inclined to allow me to supply it at my own cost I should not have made entreaty. Being more than ever entirely hopeless of better treatment and of securing my condition and rest here for the future, I have resolved to renew more urgently than ever the request I have made to the said Queen all these years past for my liberation, conjuring her in God's name, and in as far as her conscience towards herself and honour before the world are dear to her, to see to it speedily. I entreat you very earnestly to interpose thereto as far as you can the weight and intercession of the King your master, my brother-in-law, as the mediator always proposed by me in that matter. The physicians are of opinion that there are no means left for preserving my life by strengthening my nerves from the weakness of which by want of exercise all my maladies proceed, but by some natural warm baths of Italy, which, being impossible to be had in this country, it seems to me that the said Queen, in the imminent danger in which she knows I am, ought to feel responsible for the evil consequences which may arise from refusing this last and only remedy.
Marie R.”
The second letter was as follows:—
Queen Mary to Chateauneuf, 13th July 1586, Chartley:
“I do not know what determination has been taken for my change of residence and the passports of my servants; but my keeper for some days has shown himself much more vigorous and overbearing than ordinary, cutting off entirely all access round about this house from everyone whosoever, and intending to reduce the expenditure of my household as strictly as he can, contrary to the order settled and decided by the Queen of England and her Council. If this restriction continues it will be the means of making my servants more weary of this prison and altogether insupportable to them. I have heard a report, but uncertain, that my keeper is to be discharged at the end of this summer, and some suppose I am to be delivered to the Earl of Shrewsbury, which I can with very great difficulty bring myself to believe. He speaks also of removing from me all the English servants which I have in my household. But I dare not take notice of anything until my keeper gives me a hint of it. In truth I shall not be sorry to change my host, for he is one of the most whimsical and austere persons whom I have ever known, and in a word fitter for a gaol of criminals than for the custody of one of my rank and birth. Besides that, in the event of the death of the Queen of England, I should think my life very insecure in his hands, from his little rank, credit, influence, and power, and especially in this quarter, where he makes himself exceedingly hated and ill-liked. There would be no harm in your speaking of it to Lord Burghley, but it should only be by way of conversation and from yourself on the authority of some of my friends in this kingdom, without giving him any ground of suspicion that the wind blows from this quarter.”
MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS.
Watson Gordon Portrait
When Bourgoyne began this Journal the Queen would be fully eighteen years in captivity. It will be noticed that Paulet her gaoler appears to have had carte blanche from Elizabeth to treat her with every mark of cruelty. Every such act was communicated to her, and that she never disapproved of what Paulet did indicated her tacit consent to what was going on. Considering Mary's long captivity, and the weakness of her physical frame as the result of that captivity, it is almost impossible to conceive that Elizabeth or her ministers could authorise such treatment as is fully set out in these letters. It would appear from this Journal and from other documentary evidence that Mary's life was doomed before any trial ever took place at Fotheringay. Paulet's execution of Elizabeth's orders, no doubt well discussed at the Privy Council, was to lead up as it did to Mary's execution. Her first act towards that end as recorded by Bourgoyne was the bogus Stag Hunt at Chartley—the kidnapping incident. What could be more disgraceful than that proceeding?
It is briefly referred to by some historians as merely the removal of the Queen to Tixall, but Bourgoyne's Journal discloses the true nature of the transaction; and the full description given by him, which may be accepted as authentic, shows that this outrage was an act of kidnapping pure and simple. On 3rd August