Medium: oil
Size: 40 x 56 inches
Exhibited: Royal Academy, 1868; Guildhall, London, 1897; Doré Galleries 1914
Original caption: ‘She was executed attired in red, her outer black dress having been taken off previously, and afterwards placed in the presence chamber, to await the visit of the Sheriff of Northampton, the surgeon, etc… They discovered her body covered with a billiard cloth, and her favourite little dog crouching by her side’ – Miss Strickland.
Mary Stuart was exhibited at the Guildhall in 1897, when it was still in Crowe’s own possession. The painting did not form part of the auction of his remaining works after his death, suggesting that he had sold it in the last few years of his life. It was offered for auction on 25 January 1974, but found no buyer; and auctioned again at Christie’s in May 1979.
In March and April 1868, the newspapers printed various notices reporting on the progress of the Mary Queen of Scots picture by Eyre Crowe: that he was working on it, that he had sent it to the Academy etc. It was very well publicised before its eventual showing at the exhibition. For example: Birmingham Daily Post, 23 March 1868; Manchester Times, 28 March 1868; The Pall Mall Gazette, 8 April 1868.
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post, 25 March 1868
Mr. Eyre Crowe has on his easel a fine picture representing that after-scene of the execution of Mary Queen of Scots wherein the Sheriff of Northampton showed the body of the Queen to the official surgeon. It is stated that the corpse, after decapitation, was thrown out of the great hall at Fotheringay, and left for a time upon the floor of the presence chamber, which adjoined it. Mr. Eyre Crowe has taken this point of the tale for his picture; and all his friends speak in high terms of his work. I have not seen it – it will be time enough when the Royal Academy opens; but an art-critic has given me a note or two upon the picture; and yielding to that mysterious and sorrowful sort of curiosity which we all somehow feel about Mary Queen of Scots, one of the greatest enchantresses of history, I transcribe them for your information. The room, as Mr. Crowe represents it, is empty of furniture but its arras and the state seat, with a canopy and dais, of Elizabeth. Behind the chair are inscribed the arms and cipher of the victorious Queen. Before the dais, supine, face uppermost, with nothing between its robes and the bare floor but an old green billiard cloth, lies the corpse of Mary. The feet, which point to her rival’s throne, are placed in order together; the arms lie close to the sides of the dead; the right hand still clasps the crucifix to which during her last moments she clung, notwithstanding the importunities of the Dean of Peterborough (Fletcher). A little removed from this hand, a closed breviary lies upon the floor, as it might have fallen when the sheriff stooped to remove the billiard cloth, and shook the volume from those large and hastily-disposed folds where the woman and her latest possessions had been huddled together. If we read the picture rightly, this section disturbed from his nest in the scarce-cold garments of his mistress Mary’s favourite little black spaniel, where he lay whimpering in default of a caress, and now rises in pitiful defiance. We all that Mary deserved her fate – it was the fate of many better men and women than her; and yet who can resist the fatal fascination of that beauty of hers? The child of sorrow, the heiress of fate, she led all men captive in her life, and who, except a critic here and there, is yet free from the charm which Sir Walter Scott has thrown over her history?
Daily Telegraph, 8 May 1868:
In (673), “Mary Stuart, February 8th, 1586,” an excellent and continually rising painter, Mr. Eyre Crowe, has chosen a sufficiently painful subject, but has acquitted himself with surprising success. Mary Stuart is of a higher class than the majority of Mr. Eyre Crowe’s previous efforts, and will go far to raise him in the estimation of all admirers of true historical art. “She was executed”, says the “Vrai Rapport” quoted by Miss Agnes Strickland, “attired in red, her outer black dress having been taken off, and afterwards placed in the Presence Chamber, to await the visit of the Sheriff of Northampton, the surgeon, &c… They discovered her body covered with a billiard cloth, and her favourite little dog crouching by her side.” Mr. Eyre Crowe has read his text as carefully as he has dexterously interpreted it. The last scene of the Scottish Queen’s tragedy is of the gloomiest; but to Mr. Crowe cannot be denied the praise of having invested it with dignity, and with most touching pathos. The drawing, composition, and colour of this picture are most masterly.
Athenaeum, 16 May 1868:
Mr E. Crowe’s Mary Stuart, February 8th, 1586 (673) … may now be critically applauded on account of its highly-dramatic qualities, careful painting and breadth of effect. The body of the Queen lies on the floor of the Presence Chamber at Fotheringay, and is uncovered by the Sheriff of Northamptonshire to the surgeon who came to perform his office on the corpse. The painful suggestion of this incident has been very skilfully masked by the artist, whose best picture this is.
Illustrated London News, 30 May 1868:
The sequel of Mary’s fate forms the theme of Mr. Eyre Crowe’s meritorious picture (673) on the usual genre scale, where her body is seen lying with a billiard-cloth for a pall, and a favourite little dog as the only mourner.
Art Journal, 1868, p. 104:
E. CROWE has rectified faults which proved somewhat fatal in his recent pictures. ‘Mary Stuart, February 8th, 1586’ (673) is painted with more delicacy and finish than usual to the artist. We again think that this composition, in common with some of its predecessors, is unfortunate in its lines. The poor queen lies diagonally across the canvas, an object painful to behold, whether in humanity or in Art. The manipulation, however, shows decided advance on the artist’s recent efforts; the surface of paint is smooth, perhaps too smooth; and the light somehow caught on the figure is eminently effective. It is evident that Mr. Crowe has made considerable effort to correct the faults which have proved to the prejudice of his admitted talents.
The Times, 2 June 1868:
Mr. Eyre Crowe has been happier in subject than this year; the official visit of the Sheriff of Northampton and the surgeon to identify the body of Mary Queen of Scots … is not a pleasant theme for eye or mind to dwell on. Has Mr. Crowe expressed the colour of a body suddenly drained of its blood through the great arteries of the neck? Surely this is hardly the hue of ordinary death, much less death by decapitation. More might have been made by the dog. As we infer it was meant to point the moral of fidelity, it should have been painted on the near side of the dead Queen, not, as now, on the far side, with only the little head visible, and requiring some seach before it is seen at all. There is good drawing in the foreshortened body, and the painting is solid, careful and workmanlike.
The criticism by The Times concerning Crowe’s rendering of a decapitated body was echoed by the artist-surgeon Sir Henry Thompson, who informed Crowe (according to Crowe’s diary entry of 1 January 1869) that she would have lost at least a pound and a half of blood, and offered to let him know when a dead woman was brought into University College Hospital so that he could study the skin tone!
Eyre Crowe (1824-1910) 