Neither of these clerical ruffians was either punished or even reprimanded for his shameless audacity. At first, the royal prisoner was confined on the ground floor of the castle, the windows being lined with iron bars; she was strictly guarded, none but her watchers being allowed to have access to her. In February, she received another heavy blow on hearing of the death of her beloved mother, and, in her agony, wrote the two following letters, which she contrived by some means to send out of the castle:-- _To Sir_ ROBERT KEITH, _Envoy of Great Britain_. From the first day of my iniquitous arrest and severe captivity, I foresaw that the rage of my enemies would insist on the loss of my liberty and life. I am perfectly resigned to my fate either way; but the thought of my reputation being tarnished and my dear children abandoned to the mercy of a people unjustly prejudiced against the legitimacy of their birth, overwhelms me with the most pungent grief. Has the king, my brother, then abandoned me? Great God! will no one, then, avenge my innocence and my memory? I doubt whether my merciless Arguses will suffer this letter to reach you; in case you receive it, contrive to do me all the good offices in your power. I shall never forget the zeal which you have testified in the cause of innocence; and if ever Heaven should restore me to the rank and pre-eminence from which I have been so unjustly degraded, you shall have more convincing proofs of my gratitude. Oh! were I in England, my dear country, where the meanest criminal has the privilege of being tried by his peers! Am I forgot by the whole universe? I am greatly fallen away, and my health is much impaired since I have been immured within these walls. There is not a single person about me whom I do not suspect; and I despair of ever recovering my liberty. For the love of God, endeavour to visit me. The time approaches when my trial will take place; but I am apprehensive my sentence is already determined. I pray God that He will take you under his holy protection.[66] MATILDA. The queen wrote about the same time another letter to the king, which, of course, never reached its destination, though a copy of it was fortunately preserved:-- SIRE,