Benches were placed on each side of the room: those on the right were occupied by the Lord Chancellor Bromley, the Lord Treasurer Burleigh, and the Earls; on the left the Barons and Knights of the Privy Council, Sir James Crofts, Sir Christopher Hatton, Sir Francis Walsingham, Sir Ralph Sadler, and Sir Walter Mildmay. In front of the Earls sat the two premier judges and the High Baron of the Exchequer, while in front of the Barons were placed four other judges, and two doctors of civil law. At a large table, which was placed in front of the dais, sat the representatives of the Crown: Popham, Attorney-General; Egerton, Solicitor-General; Gawdy, the Queen's sergeant; and Barker, the notary: also two clerks, whose duty it was to draw up the official report of the proceedings. The documentary evidence, such as it was, was arranged on the table. A movable barrier with a door divided the room into two parts, and at the lower end were assembled as spectators the gentlemen attendants and the servants of the Lords of Commission. At nine o'clock the Queen made her entrance, escorted by a guard of halberdiers. She wore a dress and mantle of black velvet, and over her pointed widow's cap fell a long white gauze veil. Her train was borne by one of her maids of honour, Renée Beauregard. Mary was supported on each side by Melville and Bourgoing; and although, owing to the want of exercise and the severe rheumatism from which she suffered, she walked with great difficulty, it was with undiminished dignity of mien. She was followed by her surgeon, Jacques Gervais; her apothecary, Pierre Gorion; and three waiting-women, Gillis Mowbray, Jane Kennedy, and Alice Curle. As the Queen advanced the Commissioners uncovered before her, and she saluted them with a majestic air; then, perceiving that the seat prepared for her was placed outside the dais and in a lower position, she exclaimed-- "I am a queen by right of birth, and my place should be there, under the dais;" but quickly recovering her serenity, she took her seat, and looking round at the assembled dignitaries, whose faces bore no sign of sympathy for their victim, she said mournfully to Melville-- "Alas! here are many counsellors, but not one for me."[32] [Footnote 32: It is interesting to compare Queen Mary's words with those of M. de Sèze in his defence of Louis XVI., 26th December 1792: "Je cherche parmis vous des juges, et je n'y vois que des accusateurs."] Her desolate position, without counsel to defend her, without secretary to take notes for her, despoiled even of her papers, must have seemed strange to Mary's generous nature. In Scotland the poorest of her subjects would have enjoyed the privileges now denied to herself.