The Royal Chapel

I stood right at the end of my grandparents feeling slightly honoured to attend with them. I had never been to a coronation before so I knew slightly what to expect but to witness one was still exciting. Everything was beautiful the flowers were stunning and I felt nervous for Mary.

I had awoken early after only a couple of hours of sleep It was my first night without James one I shall not like to repeat any time soon. My hair had been brushed, pulled back, plaited unplaited and put into a high up bun. My dress was gold with delicate patterns scattered all over my dress. I wore a heavy necklace around my neck with matching earrings. Today I wouldn't be Mary I would be queen with a duty to fulfill to scotland. The events that James had arrange I myself would of liked to of gone to. I was in awe at just how many people could fill the chapel. My ladies in waiting fell into a line behind me, knowing the precise moment when to move and not to move. I could see James admist the packed chapel standing at the top before my throne. Just concentrate on him and him alone and you shall be fine I told myself sternly as I anxiously put one foot in front of the other. I moved silently through the chapel nodding my head here and their at the many faces that looked to me. I reached the front of the aisle keeping my face happy and mutual.

James caught glimpse of Mary at the entrance, his heart immediately felt a tug - all was well now. The tall double doors that reached the ceiling, opened behind her - the golden light of the sun streaming from the outside onto her back. The people in the pews stood, the Archbishop took his position with the sceptre and orb in his hand, the crown awaiting by Mary's throne. James shuffled in anticipation from side to side, passing a mischievous glance to his friends who stood guard around him.

Finally - after what seemed like an age - Mary reached the altar, the ecclesiastical choir singing their calming hymns. James stepped forward, playing his part and took Mary by the hand - winking at her with a grin, for her eyes only. He guided her up the few steps to her thrones, whereupon he stepped back and took his place at his throne again.

Incense was set before me, my throne blessed with holy water before I sat down. I noticed the royal family of France was here and I was truly flattered. It was like they were seeing me of into my new life. As I prayed at and then sat myself on the Chair of Estate to the south of the altar, the Bishops carried in the religious paraphernalia the bible, paten, and chalice and the peers holding the coronation regalia handed it over to the Archbishop. Standing before the throne the archbishop said the following:

: "Sirs, I here present unto you Mary De Guise your undoubted Queen: wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, are you willing to do the same?"

James sat upon his throne, the weight of the crown not as heavy as he remembered. Despite the French King and Queen only a few feet a way, he had eyes only for Mary. He glanced to them briefly, nodding civilly with a respectful smile. He was glad that the French had attended, it gave the ceremony even greater precedence and Mary would have support from her own kin.

He felt, even more now that he should bow to her - his hand protectively on the hilt of his sword, ready to pounce at a moment notice. His eyes, dark and intense cast their gaze across the congregation as he replied with the crowd to the Archbishop's address, "I am."

His eyes were soon upon Mary again, a faint smile upon his lips. She sat with such poise and grace - the coronation merely confirmed what she had already displayed - she was a Queen already.

My heart was beating fast the palms of my hand sweating. I focused only on the archbishop and his words. The archbishop then approached me and I felt my throat dry:

The Archbishop: "Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the kingdom of Scotland with His Majesty King James the fifth of that name?" 
I solemnly promise so to do.
The Archbishop: "Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?"
I will.
The Archbishop: "Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel? Will you to the utmost of your power maintain in Scotland the holy faith? Will you maintain and preserve the inviolable settlement between pontiff and monarch, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in Scotland? And will you preserve unto the Bishops and Clergy of Scotland, and to the Churches there committed to their charge, all such rights and privileges, as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them?"
I proceed to the altar where I made the following statement:
All this I promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. So help me God.
before kissing the Bible and putting the royal sign-manual to the oath as the Bible was returned.
Here is Wisdom; This is the royal Law; These are the lively Oracles of God.

"O God... Grant unto this thy servant Elizabeth, our Queen, the spirit of wisdom and government, that being devoted unto thee with her whole heart, she may so wisely govern, that in her time thy Church may be in safety, and Christian devotion may continue in peace."

before reading various excerpts from the First Epistle of Peter, Psalms, and the Gospel of Matthew.

Sitting under a canopy I was then anointed as the assembly sang "Zadok the Priest"; my  jewellery and crimson cape was removed by the Earl and the Mistress of the Robes.

wearing only a simple, white linen dress to completely cover the coronation gown, I moved to be seated in the Coronation Chair. There, assisted made a cross on my forehead with holy oil. When this part of the coronation was complete, and the canopy removed, Don and the Duchess placed on the monarch the Colobium Sindonis and Supertunica.

From the altar, the Dean passed to the Lord Great Chamberlain thespurs, which were presented to me and then placed back on the altar. The Sword of State was then handed to me  who, after a prayer was uttered by , placed it myself on the altar, and the peer who had been previously holding it took it back. I was then invested with the Armills(bracelets), Stole Royal, Robe Royal, and the Sovereign's Orb, followed by the Queen's Ring, the Sceptre with the Cross, and the Sceptre with the Dove. With the first two items on and in my right hand and the latter in my left, I was crowned.

The entire hall knelt as the crown was placed on Mary's head. Shouts of "God save the queen" Were cried from every mouth in the chapel. It was repeated three times. Then the chapel fell silent waiting as to what was happen next. Françis looked to Claude glad that the most important part of the ceremony was over.

It was over I could breath a sigh of relief although he was seated behind me. I still had to fight of the urge to run into James arms. A salute of 30 guns was fired from David's Tower on Edinburgh Castle,
When the last baron had completed this task, the assembly shouted "God save Queen Mary. Long live Queen Mary. May the Queen live for ever!"

Having removed all my royal regalia, I kneeled and took the communion, including a general confession and absolution, and, along with the audience, recited the Lord's Prayer.

James grinned proudly, almost looking victorious and stood. The congregation had stood too, the Scots cheering with unbridled good humour - louder than the French who celebrated with controlled gaiety. His friends in the guard around him, entirely loyal had dipped into bows, theirs hands on the hilt of their swords - a demonstration James knew to be of complete fealty.

He paced over to Mary, joining in with the final 'God Save The Queen' - his voice loud and booming as he took her hand. He glanced down to her with pride, "Well done, Your Majesty," he whispered to her, facing the crowd.

My body calmed as James took my hand, I could finally loosen up my joints as I had sat ther stiff to afraid to move just incase I tripped or fell. I feel born again wholly innocent. I said through my smile as I looked at James what would happen now I was not sure perhaps a few moments alone with my king.

James squeezed her hand, his smile warm - an intimacy in his eyes which he managed to convey even in the busy chapel. He took a few paces ahead of Mary, helping her down the steps gallantly - his eyes still fixed upon her. It suited her, he thought, the crown. She looked entirely beautiful, her crown suited her delicate features but did not over power them.

He paused with her at the French king and Queen, bowing with a smile - an attempt to maintain the auld and ancient alliance between their two countries. The courtiers at either side of the aisle descended into bows and curtsies, even though they never had a wedding ceremony - he thought this was better. The were both crowed, an equality between them.

He could hear the bells in the steeple peel a fanfare, the cheers of the crowds as they approached the exit, “You did beautifully,” he said, leaning closer to her.

I watched with amazement as people bowed down when we walked past them. Nothing had changed I was still the same Mary that I had been before I was queen. I kept behind James, finding that my shy side was creeping out. I waved to the tiny children bending down to collect the flowers they had collected. I left James to talk with others as I spent time with the young children, letting them admire my crown and the way the pearls dangled on it. They were all childre of noble birth children that could be matched with my future children. I took time in studying their faces, the different colors of tartan they wore telling me which clan they came from.

Finally, they reached the outside of the chapel. Thankfully, the sun shone and even the wind didn't seem as cold. James branched away from Mary as she attended the children. He was quickly surrounded by his group of men - all speaking in hushed tones, occasionally laughing at one of their comments on the coronation or what they had planned for the evening, tapping each other's backs in a brotherly fashion. All of them glancing about them as they spoke, armed and constantly on guard.

James directed his gaze towards Mary every time but as he looked up this time he caught sight of two mean swearing at one another, only yards from her. Their faces red, anger seething from them. His smile faded, he stood taller and he could feel the instinct to fight creep upon him. His grip on his hilt tightened, his other hand moved to his musket as he tentatively moved closer to her.

It was the swearing and murmurs I heard that made my blood run cold. I said my pleasant goodbyes as I turned quickly on my heel he was so close to me so very close. All of a sudden their was a bang and I stopped dead in my tracks searching my body. James. I screamed.

"Mary," James called, worry filled in his deep tone. He pushed violently through the crowds that had formed an agitated cluster around Mary, women squealed and the men not in uniform were useless.

His heart thud heavily, normally he would have dealt with the situation calmly but now there was Mary. He ran to her, sprinting faster than his men who had already drawn their musket's from their holds and ran to the fighting men. He had to reach her, defend her.

He caught sight of smoke as he came to her side. A clay grenade rolled past her skirts, the flame inching it's way perilously closer to the gunpowder within. He pounced upon it fearlessly, patting out the burning ember - knowing she would be ushered away.

I couldn't get the words out of my mouth as I saw him dive on to the smoking round ball. All at once I was pulled away from the royal guards who came out of nowhere. I don't remeber walking I just remember trying to catch up with them all. For the first time today I looked back at him for all the wrong reasons. This was my fault somebody had set out to kill me and now James was trying to save my life.

He held his breath and rolled upon his side, thankfully seeing the grenade was now redundant - the flame extinguished. He let out a deep sigh, “Thank God,” he whispered and glanced to sky - only realising how reckless he had been after the event itself.

If he hadn’t caught the grenade it would have reached the crowd and - he could barely think it - Mary. Yet, if he had been unable to extinguish it, he would have perished. None the less, he did not care - he was alive. Part of him couldn't help but be filled with same adrenaline he was used to when he won a fight, the euphoria and renewed sense of life. However, this time he had saved something much more important than his life...Mary was alive.

He retrieved her crucifix from beneath his shirt and pressed it to his lips, a relieved smile appeared on his lips. She was safe, that much he could see - the guard ushering her away from the scene. Thank God, he thought again, thank you for saving her.

I was escorted out of the room picking up the hems of my dresses as I was turned around. I didn't cry but my body was in an utter state of shock. I thought scotland liked me but clearly they wanted me gone. Why had he jumped on it for wreckless man. I was escorted back to my chamber not knowing what was going on.

Françis turned to his wife after everything was over and started to lead him and his granddaughter out of the chapel. I hear that their are to be a fireworks display tonight in honour of the new queen. And of course Claude it would be my hearts Joy if you would accept a dance with me as well. It was so rare that Françis could feel free and not a king he was going to take full advantage of this evening.

Walking beside my husband and my granddaughter out of the chapel, I thought that Mary will make a magnificent Queen, she was a strong women but she also had a good heart and being a Queen you needed both. You would make me the happiest women in world to dance with you dear husband. I rested my hand on his as we continued to walk out of the chapel.

The morning mass had been said, and as such, the church was empty. Garlands lined the walls, circling like ivy around the great columns which stood like guards. Incense burned constantly and little candles were lit - while the sun poured it's radiant, gold light upon the marble floor. Choir boys practiced in the gallery, their unbroken singing voices twinkling like light bells as they sang Latin hymns.

James made his way to the altar, passed by his throne and kneeled humbly upon the marble. He gave thanks as usual: for peace, for diminishing disease and famine, for the good crops of the summer and the divine right of his crown. They were the prayers of a King, his concern not for himself but his people. He would usually leave after this...but that morning he did not. Instead, holding Mary's crucifix, "Protect her - above everything. Above myself - protect my Mary. Guard her and watch over her. Keep her safe, let no harm befall her. Let our child come healthy, let them be well. Son or daughter, let them come into the world with a healthy cry and let Mary be safe."

It must have morning when James found himself walking to the chapel. While court slept soothed by the fires, beneath their heavy winter sheets; the clerics already moved about the church as if it were midday in the town's square on market day. He could hear the heartbeat of it, the tentative feet on the marbled floor and the hushed whisper of the young friars singing hymns - written long before the palace was built and long before the birth of the nation.

One of the friars, an old man, was James's confessor - Rafe Beocca. He alone had seen James grow from boy to man and stood by him - with his wry humour - as James fought for his birth right. The priest was devout and had a strong paternal affection for his wayward former charge James. It was when James was imprisoned that he gave him council, before his coronation that he advised him and now when his marriage was in tatters, James sat by his side and whispered with the man who had been like a father to him.

In her hand was the necklace Mary had given to James once she found out he had chosen to marry her. Her mind flashed back to that moment at first Mary thought that it was a cruel prank made by her Papa. How could I possibly marry a King she asked, looking bewildered at her parents. Because of her nobility. Her upbringing was strangely calm considering her future. Mary's mother never pushed her to try and be a person she was not meant to be. "When I first met you James I could've sworn that all the stars in the sky shone just for us."~

Mary sat behind James after she had tried to look everywhere to find him. As Mary took her place she breathed in his masculine scent that he normally left on her body for days. Two nights Mary had been without him and all she had done was either fed their son cried. Or had tried to write a million tear stained letters which only met the fire.

What had become of their marriage, Mary felt so very empty without him by her side. She ached from constantly crying her face was less attractive due to the puffy cheeks and sore red eye's. Tentatively, her hand slightly shaking Mary reached out to touch him, to make sure it was him. "Come away with us James our son needs us both. We are going to Linlithgow castle none of the court are invited I just want it to be a private place for our family. Just you, me and Jamie"~

Mary opened her hand, which was now sore for clasping the necklace too tight. Before James could move she fasten it back around his neck, her lips touching his head as she kissed him. "I will wait for you and if you don't come I shall understand why. I shall stand on that balcony looking for your horse to come galloping over the hills back to us. Back to your wife"~

It had been easy for James to speak with Rafe and it was easy for the priest to reply. They had known one another for years, as far back as James could remember. Unlike most clerics, Rafe was not entirely devout and did not possess the blinkered vision which many priest developed. No, Rafe - though devout - was clever and tactical and over the years he had developed a fairness of council.

They must have been sitting on the pew for at least an hour for the sun had finally risen, each golden ray permeated the stained glass and swam about the floor in technicolour. Still in deep conversation with his confessor, James and Rafe heard the piercing click of footsteps clatter down the aisle. James shot a glance over his shoulder and saw Mary come nearer. Rafe had already rose, his wrinkled and sun tanned hand touched James upon the forehead and very quietly he whispered the old Gaelic blessing he had once done when James was a boy.

James said nothing as Mary sat behind him. He almost winced when she finally threw the cold necklace about his neck. It wasn’t the same, how could it be. He rose from the pew and bowed before the altar. If he was going to run, it would not be to another prison - another palace. Yet, if he refused then he would be turning his back on his son and his wife.

He scratched his beard and examined the chain, "I can't leave immediately. I will need to make provisions for the court. Do not go unguarded, keep safe and take a physician for Jamie."

When he finally looked at her, he wanted to tell her he loved her but somehow the words did not come out and he found himself leaving the chapel. She didn't look like a girl when he took in her appearance - had he really caused so much pain to her? Why had it become so difficult and what was the point? If they made one another so unhappy, was it wrong to persist in vain.