Mary Stuart

A >> Alexandre Dumas, Pere >> Mary Stuart


Then, in the same order in which it had come, the procession returned to
the palace, where a splendid funeral repast had been prepared. By a
strange contradiction, Elizabeth, who, having punished the living woman
as a criminal, had just treated the dead woman as a queen, had also
wished that the honours of the funeral banquet should be for the
servants, so long forgotten by her. But, as one can imagine, these ill
accommodated themselves to that intention, did not seem astonished at
this luxury nor rejoiced at this good cheer, but, on the contrary,
drowned their bread and wine in tears, without otherwise responding to
the questions put to them or the honours granted them. And as soon as
the repast was ended, the poor servants left Peterborough and took the
road back to Fotheringay, where they heard that they were free at last to
withdraw whither they would. They did not need to be told twice; for they
lived in perpetual fear, not considering their lives safe so long as they
remained in England. They therefore immediately collected all their
belongings, each taking his own, and thus went out of Fotheringay Castle
on foot, Monday, 13th August, 1587.

Bourgoin went last: having reached the farther side of the drawbridge, he
turned, and, Christian as he was, unable to forgive Elizabeth, not for
his own sufferings, but for his mistress's, he faced about to those
regicide walls, and, with hands outstretched to them, said in a loud and
threatening voice, those words of David: "Let vengeance for the blood of
Thy servants, which has been shed, O Lord God, be acceptable in Thy
sight". The old man's curse was heard, and inflexible history is
burdened with Elizabeth's punishment.

We said that the executioner's axe, in striking Mary Stuart's head, had
caused the crucifix and the book of Hours which she was holding to fly
from her hands. We also said that the two relics had been picked up by
people in her following. We are not aware of what became of the
crucifix, but the book of Hours is in the royal library, where those
curious about these kinds of historical souvenirs can see it: two
certificates inscribed on one of the blank leaves of the volume
demonstrate its authenticity. These are they:

FIRST CERTIFICATE

"We the undersigned Vicar Superior of the strict observance of the Order
of Cluny, certify that this book has been entrusted to us by order of the
defunct Dom Michel Nardin, a professed religious priest of our said
observance, deceased in our college of Saint-Martial of Avignon, March
28th, 1723, aged about eighty years, of which he has spent about thirty
among us, having lived very religiously: he was a German by birth, and
had served as an officer in the army a long time.

"He entered Cluny, and made his profession there, much detached from all
this world's goods and honours; he only kept, with his superior's
permission, this book, which he knew had been in use with Mary Stuart,
Queen of England and Scotland, to the end of her life.

"Before dying and being parted from his brethren, he requested that, to
be safely remitted to us, it should be sent us by mail, sealed. Just as
we have received it, we have begged M. L'abbe Bignon, councillor of state
and king's librarian, to accept this precious relic of the piety of a
Queen of England, and of a German officer of her religion as well as of
ours.

"(Signed) BROTHER GERARD PONCET,

"Vicar-General Superior."

SECOND CERTIFICATE

"We, Jean-Paul Bignon, king's librarian, are very happy to have an
opportunity of exhibiting our zeal, in placing the said manuscript in His
Majesty's library.

"8th July, 1724."

"(Signed) JEAN-PAUL BIGNAN."

This manuscript, on which was fixed the last gaze of the Queen of
Scotland, is a duodecimo, written in the Gothic character and containing
Latin prayers; it is adorned with miniatures set off with gold,
representing devotional subjects, stories from sacred history, or from
the lives of saints and martyrs. Every page is encircled with arabesques
mingled with garlands of fruit and flowers, amid which spring up
grotesque figures of men and animals.

As to the binding, worn now, or perhaps even then, to the woof, it is in
black velvet, of which the flat covers are adorned in the centre with an
enamelled pansy, in a silver setting surrounded by a wreath, to which are
diagonally attached from one corner of the cover to the other, two
twisted silver-gilt knotted cords, finished by a tuft at the two ends.