the queen, declaring that he was chiefly overthrown by her own hand. On the scaffold he protested again that he was her true servant; had never dreamt of harm to her, and that "in her own conscience she knew it." In the midst of his devotions the cart was drawn away, and after one swing he was cut down and butchered with the executioner's knife, giving a great groan when his bowels were taken out.
To avoid, if possible, the fate which the bill of this Session prepared for them, the Roman Catholics drew up an earnest and loyal memorial to the queen, declaring it as their settled and solemn conviction that she was their sovereign de jure and de facto; that neither Pope nor priest had power to license any one to lift their hand against her, nor to absolve them were such a crime committed, and that they renounced and abominated any one who held a contrary doctrine. It might have been thought that such a testimony would have been highly gratifying from her subjects; but those subjects knew too well the bigotry and violence of the queen, and it was not easy to find any one daring enough to present so reasonable a document. Richard Shelley, of Michael Grove, in Sussex, was patriotic enough to undertake the office, and his treatment justified the fears of all others.
All these transactions only tended to aggravate the situation of the Queen of Scots. She passed the winter of 1584-5 in the most excruciating anxiety. The signing of the bond of association had convinced her that fresh occasion was sought to destroy her. She regarded it as the signing of her death-warrant. There was a constant attempt to make it appear that she was an accomplice in every real or supposed plot for the overthrow of Elizabeth's Government. She was now taken out of the hands of the Earl of Shrewsbury, who had, by his sense of justice and benevolence, ameliorated her sorrowful captivity in some degree, and was consigned to the custody of Sir Amyas Paulet, a dependant of Leicester's, a man of a rigid, gaoler-like disposition, but not destitute of honour, as we shall anon discover. She was removed from Sheffield Park to the ruinous stronghold of Tutbury.
Finding that all appeals to Elizabeth and all protestations of her innocence of any participation in, and even ignorance of, the plots charged on different persons were alike disregarded, she turned to her son, but only to receive from that quarter a disregard still harder to bear. James coldly announced to her that he had nothing to do with her concerns, nor she with his: he was now, in fact, in the pay of Elizabeth. He bade her remember that she was only the queen-mother, and enjoyed no authority in Scotland, though she bore the empty title of queen.
This base and unnatural conduct in a son fell like a millstone upon her; and abandoning all hope of assistance from him, she now demanded of Elizabeth to liberate her on any conditions she pleased—she asked only liberty and life. But Elizabeth was now secure of James, and was relieved from any fears of his resenting even his mother's death. To give Mary some inkling of the fate which awaited her, a young Romish recusant, and supposed to be a priest, was brought prisoner to Tutbury, carried by force, and before her face, repeatedly to the Protestant service in the chapel, and then hanged before her window.
The condition of the Roman Catholics was now pitiable in the extreme. Their lives and fortunes were at the mercy of a swarm of spies and informers; and all who could, endeavoured to get out of the kingdom to enjoy their lives and religion in peace. But it was made a high crime and misdemeanour to try even to accomplish this voluntary expatriation. The Earl of Arundel was a man of a gay and even libertine life, and not likely to trouble himself about plots and insurrections; but Elizabeth was taught to distrust him; and finding that he was become an object of her displeasure, he contemplated a removal to the Continent. But Elizabeth was well aware of all his movements through her spies, and just as he was about to set out, made him a visit as of friendship, and, on retiring after dinner, bade him consider himself a prisoner in his own house.
Determining, however, to elude his tyrannical sovereign's power, he made a secret preparation for his departure, and left a letter to the queen explaining his motives for his conduct; declaring that it was come to that point with him that he must escape, or perish body or soul. After giving his letter to a messenger, he went on board and thought himself safe: in reality he had only gone voluntarily into a trap. Every movement had been watched, every word listened to, every scrap of writing perused; and he had not been long at sea when he saw two sail in full chase of the vessel in which he was. The pursuer was a pretended pirate of the name of Killaway. The master of the vessel in which he was had been secured by the ministers; and Arundel, after a vain resistance, was taken back and thrown into the Tower. His brother. Lord William Howard, and his sister, Lady Margaret Sackville, were also made prisoners. On his examination forged letters were produced against him, but so palpably so—purporting that he meant to invade England with a large army—that no overt act could be fixed upon him. Notwithstanding, he was fined £10,000 for attempting to leave the kingdom without licence, and for having corresponded with Dr. Allen, the principal of Douay College, and was detained in severe imprisonment for life.
The Earl of Northumberland was the next victim. As a Papist, he had long been secretly watched, and had for ten years been forbidden to quit the immediate environs of the metropolis. William Shelley, a friend of the earl's, being arrested on the charge of being an accomplice with Throckmorton, something was drawn from him which gave a plea for arresting the earl too, and he was thrown into the Tower. It may be presumed, however, that nothing could be proved against him, as he was never brought to trial; for, after being kept in close confinement more than a year, he was got rid of in a very extraordinary way. On the 20th of June, 1585, his ordinary keeper was removed, and replaced by one Bailiff, a servant of Sir Christopher Hatton's. The very next morning he was found dead, shot through the heart with three slugs. It was attempted to show that he had shot himself, and evidence was brought forward to prove that he had had the pistol and the slugs brought by one Pantin, and delivered to him by a servant named Price; but Price, though in custody, was never called to prove this; and, indeed, Sir Walter Raleigh, writing to Cecil, treats the fact as one well known to them both, that the earl was assassinated by the instrumentality of Hatton. It was, however, diligently propagated that he had
