est that her attendants, who had just been separated from her,
might come down and see her die. The commissioners objected. They
said that if these attendants were admitted, their anguish and
lamentations would only add to her own distress, and make the whole
scene more painful. Mary, however, urged the request. She said they
had been devotedly attached to her all her days; they had shared her
captivity, and loved and served her faithfully to the end, and it was
enough if she herself, and they, desired that they should be present.
The commissioners at last yielded, and allowed her to name six, who
should be summoned to attend her. She did so, and the six came down.

The sad procession then proceeded to the hall. Mary was in full court
dress, and walked into the apartment with the air and composure of a
reigning queen. She leaned on the arm of her physician. Sir Andrew
Melville followed, bearing the train of her robe. Her dress is
described as a gown of black silk, bordered with crimson velvet, over
which was a satin mantle. A long veil of white crape, edged with rich
lace, hung down almost to the ground. Around her neck was an ivory
crucifix--that is, an image of Christ upon the cross, which the
Catholics use as a memorial of our Savior's sufferings--and a rosary,
which is a string of beads of peculiar arrangement, often employed by
them as an aid in their devotions. Mary meant, doubtless, by these
symbols, to show to her enemies and to the world, that though she
submitted to her fate without resistance, yet, so far as the contest
of her life had been one of religious faith, she had no intention of
yielding.

Mary ascended the platform and took her seat in the chair provided
for her. With the exception of stifled sobs here and there to be
heard, the room was still. An officer then advanced and read the
warrant of execution, which the executioners listened to as their
authority for doing the dreadful work which they were about to
perform. The Dean of Peterborough, the Protestant ecclesiastic whom
Mary had refused to see, then came forward to the foot of the
platform, and most absurdly commenced an address to her, with a view
to convert her to the Protestant faith. Mary interrupted him, saying
that she had been born and had lived a Catholic, and she was resolved
so to die; and she asked him to spare her his useless reasonings. The
dean persisted in going on. Mary turned away from him, kneeled down,
and began to offer a