Catholic Thought discussion
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Part 3, Chapters 1 thru 5
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Mod
The novel is certainly getting more intense.
These chapters portrayed Mary, Queen of Scots as a pseudo-transcendental figure. I wonder if this is how she was perceived by English Catholics of the time, as a political savior. We obviously know this isn’t true. She’s never been beatified. While she was the rightful heir and held the true religion, Babington and others may have slid into politico-theological heresy by elevating her. I really don’t know more than what I read in the novel. Does anybody else?
Not very much, Peej. Her son, James VI of Scotland, became James I of England, unifying the two thrones as the first Stuart king. And then, there is some ambiguity regarding the role -- very likely passive -- that he played in his mother's execution under Elizabeth I.
Mod
We obviously kn..."
Benson is quite clear in portraying Mary Queen of Scotts as a sort of martyr and innocent of the charges. I don't know the history well enough to say one way or the other. It's probably within the span of the unknown and possible. What I see at this point in England's history, is that the Catholics have become a minority under a government where there are no minority rights, and where the majority has a vested interest in destroying the minority. And the minority made it worse with attempts to overthrow the majority. So even those in the majority sympathetic found it tough to defend the minority. It's all just a shame and tragic, put in motion by Henry VIII, a despicable and selfish man.
Mod
Mary was past her prime long ago; she was worn with sorrow and slanders and miseries; yet she appeared to the priest’s eyes, even then, like a figure of a dream. It was partly, no doubt, the faintness of the light that came in through the half-shrouded windows that obliterated the lines and fallen patches that her face was beginning to bear; and she lay, too, with her back even to such light as there was. Yet for all that, and even if he had not known who she was, Robin could not have taken his eyes from her face. She lay there like a fallen flower, pale as a lily, beaten down at last by the waves and storms that had gone over her; and she was more beautiful in her downfall and disgrace, a thousand times, than when she had come first to Holyrood, or danced in the Courts of France.
Now it is not in the features one by one that beauty lies but rather in the coincidence of them all. Her face was almost waxen now, blue shadowed beneath the two waves of pale hair; she had a small mouth, a delicate nose, and large, searching hazel eyes. Her head-dress was of white, with silver pins in it; a light white shawl was clasped cross-wise over her shoulders; and she wore a loose brocaded dressing-gown beneath it. Her hands, clasped as if in prayer, emerged out of deep lace-fringed sleeves, and were covered with rings. But it was the air of almost superhuman delicacy that breathed from her most forcibly; and, when she spoke, a ring of assured decision revealed her quiet consciousness of royalty. It was an extraordinary mingling of fragility and power, of which this feminine and royal room was the proper frame.
(p. 215, Aeterna Press. Kindle Edition)
Finally when the guard is out of the room and the Queen and her attendants are left with Robin, they all move quickly to get the Queen her sacraments.
The Queen opened her eyes, waited for one tense instant till the door closed; then she slipped swiftly off the couch.
“The door!” she whispered.
The woman was across the room in an instant, on tip-toe, and drew the single slender bolt. The Queen made a sharp gesture; the woman fled back again on one side, and out through the further door, and the old man hobbled after her. It was as if every detail had been rehearsed. The door closed noiselessly.
Then the Queen rose up, as Robin, understanding, began to fumble with his breast. And, as he drew out the pyx, and placed it on the handkerchief (in reality a corporal), apparently so carelessly laid by the crucifix, Mary sank down in adoration of her Lord.
“Now, mon père,” she whispered, still kneeling, but lifting her star-bright eyes. And the priest went across to the couch where the Queen had lain, and sat down on it.
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti—” began Mary.
When the confession was finished, Robin went across, at the Queen’s order, and tapped with his finger-nail upon the door, while she herself remained on her knees. The door opened instantly, and the two came in, the woman first, bearing two lighted tapers. She set these down one on either side of the crucifix, and herself knelt with the old physician.
… Then Robin gave holy communion to the Queen of the Scots….
(p. 217)
Finally they restore the room to its previous state, and the Queen gives a commendation.
She was back again on her couch now, once more as drowsy-looking as ever. The candlesticks were gone again; the handkerchief still in its place, and the woman back again behind the couch. The two men kneeled close beside her, near enough to hear every whisper.
“Listen, gentlemen,” she said softly, “I cannot tell you what you have done for my soul to-day—both of you, since I could never have had the priest without my friend…. I cannot reward you, but our Lord will do so abundantly…. Listen, I know that I am going to my death, and I thank God that I have made my peace with Him. I do not know if they will allow me to see a priest again. But I wish to say this to both of you—as I said just now in my confession, to you, mon père—that I am wholly and utterly guiltless of the plot laid to my charge; that I had neither part nor wish nor consent in it. I desired only to escape from my captivity…. I would have made war, if I could, yes, but as for accomplishing or assisting in her Grace’s death, the thought was never near me. Those whom I thought my friends have entrapped me, and have given colour to the tale. I pray our Saviour to forgive them as I do; and with that Saviour now in my breast I tell you—and you may tell all the world if you will—that I am guiltless of what they impute to me. I shall die for my Religion, and nothing but that. And I thank you again, mon père, et vous, mon ami, que vous avez….”
Her voice died away in inaudible French, and her eyes closed.
Robin’s eyes were raining tears, but he leaned forward and kissed her hand as it lay on the edge of the couch. He felt himself touched on the shoulder, and he stood up. The old man’s eyes, too, were brimming with tears.
(pp. 217-218)
A touching scene, full of pathos.
Robin arrives in London several years later under the name of Robin Alban. He is now a priest and meeting him at an inn is Anthony Babington, where the old friends catch up on what has been happening. He hears of more priests being discovered and either exiled or executed. Babington confesses he is involved in a plot to kill Queen Elizabeth and have Queen Mary of Scots assume the throne. Robin offers no consolation to the evil scheme and advices against it. Babington insists that Mary supports such a plot.
After strolling through London, Robin is handed a package of letters by the innkeeper. Inside his bolted room, he reads that the covert Catholic company in London has been betrayed and are on the run. Another letter from Babington speaks of a trap for Mary Queen of Scots. Ten days later, the innkeeper tells Robin his friends have dispersed and left a luggage. He is warned it is unsafe to stay in London, and with his aid, Mr. Arnold, abscond as quickly as possible. In leaving, he sees a posse corner a group of men, who turn out to be his friends.
On the way to Derby is Chartley Castle where Queen Mary is imprisoned. Robin decides to risk getting to the queen by posing as an apothecary with the ruse to provide the ailing queen with some healing herbs. Despite some difficulties he does meet with the queen in private, reveals he is a priest, hears her confession, and provides her with Holy Communion. She is clearly devout and believes will not survive long. She tells him she is innocent of this plot to kill Elizabeth. With the Queen in apparent better health after his visit, he tells the jailer he may come back again.
From Chartley he reaches Derby and arrives at Marjorie’s where he learns Babington has been executed. He learns of the Thomas FitzHerbert apostacy and other local news he has missed. The good Catholics gather at Marjorie’s and Robin hears confessions and celebrates Mass. He asks about his father, but no one seems to know much. When all are gone, he tells Marjorie about what happened at Chartely, and that if called upon he will go back.