nTJCXDCJCXDOCDOCXDOOOOOC C)OC3OOOOC3OOC:XD0 ^OOOOCSOOOCJ popo^e^w^o^^e^l I OOOOCDOOOOOCXDOC' >T»>>^Tai?»W!<^!«t>::^!S /OOOOCDOCSOOGSCXDOCXi^CJ 1» •# . .**, ^ M- PICTU RES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS r-i ■=r«'^-- f.y HA... RUACKIF.A-SOH IMVVOK '3LASr.OW A. KDlMBUJtOH. PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS ILLUSTRATIVE OF ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH HISTORY, t FROM THE INTRODUCTION OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE PRESENT TIME. ENGRAVED FROM IMPORTANT WORKS BY DISTINGUISHED MODERN PAINTERS, AND FROM AUTHENTIC STATE PORTRAITS. WITH DESCRIPTIVE HISTORICAL SKETCHES, THOMAS ARCHER, AUTHOR OF APPENDIX TO DE BONNECHOSE's "HISTORY OF FRANCE," ETC. VOLUME L LONDON: BLACKIE & SON: OLD BAILEY; GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH. t88o. GLASGOW : \V. G. BLACKIE AND CO.. PRI.NTERS, VILLAFIELU. PREFACE. In any collection of Paintings, whether they belong to a private or a public gallery, it will be seen that the eager attention of most of the visitors is at once attracted by a really good historical picture representing a well-known incident or containing the figures of some prominent actors in the national story. The reason for this is obvious. It is the peculiar province of a great work of art to appeal directly to sentiment and imagination, and where the outlines of the narrative are already known, there is an immediate gratification in receiving a vivid impression of the scene in its dramatic action, and in making closer acquaintance with the personages who were engaged in the principal event, " in their habits as they lived." No ordinary reading of history can compensate for the lack of this direct interest, no mere biographical notice can produce so distinct an impression as authentic portraits exhibiting the actual characteristics of those about whose personal appearance we have often speculated. This general desire to bring home to the imagination some of the most important occurrences in history, and to realize the true semblance of the persons who were principally engaged in them, will be gratified by the following series of Picttires and Royal Portraits. They consist of faithful reproductions of famous historical paintings by eminent artists of the present century. The originals are mostly pictures of large size. Several of them were painted for the nation and adorn the walls of the Houses of Parliament at Westminster, while others have their places in private galleries. The Royal portraits commence with Henry VH., the earliest sovereign of whom VRi. DA 30 A1 \%%b VI PREFACE. a trustworthy "likeness" can be found. They are partly taken from large portraits which are to be seen in the Legislative Palace at Westminster, while those representing more recent sovereigns are taken from the originals at Windsor Castle and from other authentic sources. The writer of the articles which accompany the engravings has endeavoured to present to the reader a connected set of historical papers on the incidents and events to which the pictures have special refer- ence. It is hoped that these descriptive articles will be interesting alike to the student and to the general reader, since the author has carefully examined and investigated the subjects that fall within the scope of his remarks, and at the same time has endeavoured to deal with the various topics in an easy and pleasant manner. T. A. LIST OF THE PLATES, WTTH NOTES ON THE ORIGINAL PICTURES AFTER WHICH THEY ARE ENGRAVED. VOLUME FIRST. PAGB The Baptism of Ethelbert, King of Kent, .... Frontispiece, 12 The original picture is a fresco painted by W. Dyce, R.A., in the year 1846, on the south wall of the House of Lords over the throne. It was the first of the frescoes executed in the House of Lords by order of the Royal Commissioners. The picture is 16 feet 9 inches high, and 8 feet ii}i inches wide. Celtic Relics, The original is a drawing made for this work by J. L. Williams in the year 1871. The larger number of the relics are drawn from the objects themselves in various museums and private collections. The First Preaching of Christianity in Britain, 8 The original is a drawing by C. W. Cope, R.A., executed in the year 1858, and now preserved in the South Kensington Museum. The drawing is 21 inches wide^ and 15 inches high. Anglo-Saxon Relics, i6 The original is a drawing made for this work by J. L. Williams in the year 1871. The telics are drawn from the objects themselves in vanous museums and private collections. King Alfred inciting the Anglo-Saxons to Repel the Danes,. 24 The original picture is a cartoon executed by G. F. Watts, R.A., and first exhibited in the year 1847 at the great competition in Westminster Hall, instituted by the Com- missioners for the Decoration of the Houses of Parliament, and presided over by the late Prince Albert. The Commissioners awarded the painter a premium of j^soo, and purchased the cartoon, which now hangs in one of the committee rooms of the Houses of Parliament. It measures 11 feet 3 inches high, and 19 feet \i inch long. The Coronation of Harold, 30 The original drawing is one of a series of 42 designs by D. Maclise, R.A., illustrative of the Norman Conquest The drawings were first exhibited at the Royal Academy in the year 1857, and have been engraved for the Art-Union of London. Relics associated with Thomas a Becket, 32 The original is a drawing made for this work by J. L. Williams in the year 1870. The relics are drawn from the objects themselves in various museums and private collections. VIII LIST OF THE PLATES. PAGB Richard Cceur de Lion forgiving Bertrand de Gurdun, ... 40 The original picture, painted by John Cross, was first exhibited in 1847 at the great competition in Westminster Hall, instituted by the Commissioners for the decoration of the Houses of Parliament. After gaining the prize of j^30o, it was purchased for the nation, and is now in one of the committee rooms of the Houses of Parliament. It measures 13 feet g}i inches in length, and 10 feet ^H inches in height. The Seizure of Roger de Mortimer by Edward III., 48 The original picture is a cartoon executed by Sir J. Noel Paton, R.S.A., in the year 1845-6, in competition for an important prize offered by the Art-Union of London. It was exhibited at the Royal Scottish Academy in 1847. Its size is 7 feet long, and 5 feet high. Wycliffe on his Sick-bed assailed by the Friar.s, 54 The original picture is a drawing in water colours, painted by George H. Thomas, in 1854, for the publishers of this work, and is still in their possession. Its size is loji inches long, and 7^ inches high. Lord Save and Sele brought before Jack Cadf. 60 The original picture, painted by Charles Lucy for the present Lord Saye and Sele, was first exhibited at the Royal Academy in i860, and again in the Great International Exhibition at South Kensington in 1862. The picture occupies the end of the great drawing- room in Broughton Castle, Oxfordshire. It is 14 feet long, and 10 feet 8 inches high. The Introduction of the Art of Printing, 64 The original picture, painted by E. H. Wehnert, was first exhibited at the Gallery of the New Society of Painters in Water Colours (now the Institute of Painters in Water Colours) in the year 1850 ; and again at the Art Treasures Exhibition in Manchester in 1857. The Sons of Edward IV. parted from iheir Mother, .... 70 The original picture was painted by Gosse, a distinguished artist of the French School, about the year 1838. It is a picture of large size. Portrait of Henry VII., ^6 This engraving is from one of the series of portraits of the Tudor sovereigns, painted by order of the Royal Commissioners in the Prince's Chamber of the Palace of Westminster. The picture is s feet iij^ inches high, and 2 feet sJi inches wide. Portrait of Henry VIII., 80 This engraving is from one of the series of portraits of the Tudor sovereigns, painted by order of the Royal Commissioners in the Prince's Chamber of the Palace of Westminster. The picture is s feet iij^ inches high, and 3 feet Ji inch wide. Relics associated with Henry VIII., 84 The original is a drawing made for this work by J. L. Williams, in the year 1871. The relics are drawn from the objects themselves in various museiuns and private collections. Sir Thomas More and his Daughter in the Prison, 90 The original picture, painted by J. R. Herbert, R.A., was first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844. It is now in the National Gallery — Vernon Collection. It measiues 3 feet T'/i inches in width, by 2 feet 9K inches in height. Portrait of Edward VI. 96 This engraving is from one of the series of portraits of the Tudor sovereigns, painted by order of the Royal Commissioners in the Prince's Chamber of the Palace of West- minster. The picture is s feet 1 1 H inches high, and 2 feet 7 inches wide. LIST OF THE PLATES. IX FACE Portrait of Queen Mary, loo This engraring is from one of the series of portraits of the Tudor sovereigns, painted by order of the Royal Commissioners in the Princes' Chamber of the Palace of West- minster. The picture is 5 feet ii'A inches high, and 2 feet 6^ inches wide. Lady Jane Grey's reluctance to accept the Crown, io8 The original picture, painted by C. R. LesUe, R.A., was first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1827. It is now in tlie collection of his Grace the Duke of Bedford; at Wobum Abbey. Its size is 4 feet 4Ji inches in width, by 3 feet 35i inches in height Cranmer at the Traitor's Gate, 114 The original picture, painted by Frederick Goodall, R.A.,was first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1856, and afterwards at the Art Treasures Exhibition in Manchester in 1857. Its size is 6 feet in width, by 3 feet 6 inches in height. Portrait of Queen Elizabeth, ii6 This engraving is from one of the series of portraits of Tudor sovereigns, painted by order of the Royal Commissioners in the Princes' Chamber of the Palace of Westminster. The picture is 5 feet ii'/i inches high, and 2 feet sK inches wide. Relics associated with Queen Elizabeth, 120 The original is a drawing made for this work by J. L. Williams in the year 1875. The relics are drawn from the objects themselves in various museums and private collections. Queen Elizabeth knighting Admiral Drake, 126 The original drawing by John Gilbert (now Sir John Gilbert, R.A.) was executed in the year 1861. Its size is 13K inches in width, by g;< inches in height. Mary Queen of Scots compelled to sign her Abdication, . . .132 The original picture, painted by Sir William Allan, R.A., /". R.S.A., was first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1824, and afterwards at the Royal Institution for the Encourage- ment of the Fine Arts in Scotland in 1827. It is a picture of large size. Portrait of James I., 136 This engraving is from a drawing made by J. L. Williams in the year 1871, after contemporary prints by Pass and C. Vischer. The back-ground is from richly-embroidered hangings at Knole in Kent, the border is adapted from canings of the period in South Kensington Museiun. The heraldic devices are from " Willement's Regal Heraldry." Departure of the Pilgrim Fathers from Delfthaven, .... 142 The original picture is a fresco painted by C. W. Cope, R.A., on the wall of the Peers" Corridor of the Houses of Parliament, in the year i8j6. It is 9 feet 2 inches wide, and 7 feet )i inch high. The Gunpowder Plot— Guy Fawkes interrogated by James I., . 148 The original is a drawing made for this work by 1. M'L. Ralston in the year 1875. It is in possession of the pubUshers. 6 X LIST OF THE PLATES. PACE Portrait of Charles 1 152 This engraving is from the picture by Vandyke. The back-ground is from silk damask of the 17th cent, in South Kensington Museum, and the border from tapestry of the early part of the 17th cent, from the Palace at Newmarket. Opening Scene of the Great Civil War— Charles I. raising HIS Standard, 162 The original picture is a fresco painted by C. W. Cope, R.A., on the wall of the Peers' Corridor of the Houses of Parliament, in the year 1861. It is 9 feet 2 inches long, and 7 feet 'A inch high. Cromwell at Battle of Marston Moor, 164 The original picture, painted by Abraham Cooper, R.A., was first exhibited at the Royal Academy in the year 1863. Charles I. in the Guard-room, i68 The original picture, painted by Paul Delaroche, in the year 1838, is one of the noblest works of the artist. It was purchased by Lord Francis Egerlon, and is now in the Bridge- water Gallery. Its size is 12 feet 6 inches wide, by 10 feet high. Portrait of Oliver Cromwell, 172 This engraving is from a dramng made by J. L. Williams in the year 1871, the head from the fine miniature by Cooper, the figure from a contemporary print by Walker. The back-ground is from a piece of embroidery dated 1650, the border from panelling of the early part of the i7lh century in South Kensington Museum. The Mottoes are those used by the Commonwealth, and by Cromwell when Lord Protector. The Marquis of Montrose at the Place of Execution, . . . .180 The original picture is a fresco painted by E. M. Ward, R.A., on the wall of the Commons' Corridor of the Houses of Parliament, in the year 1857. It is 7 feet 7 inches wide, by 6 feet 8 inches high. Charles II. in Disguise, aided in his Escape by Jane Lane, . . 182 The original picture is a fresco painted by E. M. Ward, R.A., on the wall of the Commons' Corridor of the Houses of Parliament, in the year 1864. It is 7 feet 7^ inches wide, by 6 feet 8 inches high. •«• The back-grounds and borders of the portraits of James I., Charles I., and Oliver Cromwell, are adapted so as to be in keeping with the series of portraits of the Tudor sovereigns in the Princes* Chamber, Palace of Westmiostcr, which are reproduced in the earlier part of this volume. HISTORICAL PAPERS. VOLUME FIRST. PAGE Celt and Roman i Celtic Relics, 5 The Dawn of Christianity in Britain, . 7 The Saxon Rule 12 Anglo-Saxons — Growth of Christianity, 1 4 Anglo-Saxon Dress and Ornaments, . 16 The First Great English King, ... 19 Harold, 26 Thomas h Becket, 32 The Lion-Heart, 37 Roger de Mortimer, 43 The Dawn of the Reformation, ... 50 John WyclifTe, 52 Jack Cade and his Insurrection, . . 56 Caxton and the Art of Printing, . . 63 Richard III. and the Young Princes, . 67 The Tudor, 73 The Great Harry, ....'... 79 PACB Sir Thomas More and his Daughter, . 86 The Boy King — Edward VI., ... 93 Mary, 99 Offer of the Crown to Lady Jane Grey, 105 Cranmer, Martyr 1 1 1 The Days of "Queen Bess," . . . .115 Sir Francis Drake, . " 122 Mary Queen of Scots at Lochleven, . 127 James Stuart, 133 The Depaitare oi the May^ower, . .139 The Gunpowder Plot, 143 Charles, " King and Martyr," . . . 150 The Great Civil War, 155 The Battle of Marston Moor, . . .163 Charles I. in the Guard-room, . . .166 The Protector, 170 The Execution of Montrose, . . . .177 The Escape of Charles II., .... 181 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. CELT AND ROMAN. THE careful and reflecting student will frequently be impressed by the resemblance between the growth of an individual and the development of a nation; the biography of a man and the history of mankind. In examining early records, the first of which are often only traditional accounts of events that have belonged to the infancy of a people, we can trace a very remarkable analogy between the style and language of such legendary histories and those tales or representative stories by which knowledge is first communicated to a child, but regarding Avliich children use a very wide interpretation, separating with considerable accuracy the poetic or imaginative element from the actual information intended to be conveyed. Traditions of national events were expressed in forms which took a hold on memory by their association with the poetic faculty, with the deeper imaginative moods of men, and often with thoughts of the unseen world; and this association confirmed, instead of diminishing, the sense of reality, in ages when such language was the usual mode of expression in narrating great and solemn occurrences. Subsequently the form remained, but becoming to some extent uninterpretable, because of men having .attained to another stage of development, was separated into a mixture of fact and myth. People of a later age and of a different nation and language often failed to discover the true meaning of the tradition, and were ready to regard it as false in fact, because they were unable to appreciate its symbolical, or, as they were sometimes called, its mystical references. We live in wonderful times, when it has been discovered that the earth itself the very soil beneath our feet, has been as it were a great 1 2 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. bookcase, containing, in almost imperishable records, a portion of the unwritten chronicles of pre-historic years. In geological strata; amidst the sites of buried cities and in the deep excavations of ruined temples and palaces, so long ago destroyed that their existence had also been denied, there have been discovered verifications of traditional and written history, the declarations of which were scornfully disputed. These investigations have rebuked alike the narrow credulity and the equally restricted incredulity of men; but on the whole we have gained immeasurably in the region of belief, by the unanswerable proofs which such discoveries have given us of the truth of the earliest accounts of social and national life with which we are acquainted. That these prefatory remarks are not inapplicable to the history of our own country may be seen by referring not alone to the strange traditions preserved (and altered) by the early monks, but also to the colder, more concise, and more accurate chronicles of Caesar and the Roman governors of Britain. In the monkish stories we find an almost inextricable mixture of Romish legends with Celtic, Danish, and Saxon elements; Scan- dinavian myth and Teutonic Saga; stories of giants and warriors, trolls and witches, mingled in such strange confusion that we are unable to regard them except as indications of earlier histories; but there is enough, taken in conjunction with the legends of bards and minstrels, to show that Britain had a history other than that of a mere tribe of painted savages long before the Roman invasion. Csesar's account of Britain is after all but the note-book of a visitor who carefully made memoranda of what he saw, and set down, as honestly and literally as he could, what he was told by others of the social condition, civilization, religion, and institutions of the inhabitants of the islands " in the uttermost parts of the earth." We must remember, however, not only that cultivated Romans were almost incapable of understanding the primitive and (as they would deem them) barbarous traditions of a people like the Celtic dwellers in Britain, but that they regarded all tribes and nations beyond the pale of Greek or Roman influence as fanatics or savages, for whom the best thing that could be done was to subjugate them to the imperial arms, and make them contribute to the vast structure of physical power which threatened to overshadow the whole world. The history and institutions of these islanders would offer a subject CELT AND ROMAN. 3 for curious philosophical inquiry, but need not trouble too much a conqueror, the object of whose descent upon the coast was to add another remote colony to Rome, and so demonstrate her political and military supremacy. It is obvious that the writer of TJte Commentaries took a great deal for granted, but it is equally certain that he discovered essential differ- ences amongst the people whom he came to conquer, both as regards their tribe and the de";ree of civilization and social culture. " The inland part of Britain," he says, " is inhabited by those who, according to existing traditions, were the aborigines of the island ; the sea-coast by those who, for the sake of plunder, or in order to make war, had crossed over from among the Belgae. ... Of all the natives, those who inhabit Cantium (Kent), a district the whole of which is on the coast, are by far the most civilized." Admirable as the account of the noble Roman is, it should be read with an appreciation, not only of his position as an invading general, the representative of the greatest nation in the \vorld, but as a foreign aristocrat, with perhaps about the same estimate of "the barbarians" as an eminent English officer of to-day might form beforehand of some little-known islanders in a remote region of the globe, and with far fewer opportunities of investigating " habits and customs." It is now made tolerably certain that long before the time of Caesar's invasion there were people in Britain — small tribes or clans — under their own kings or chieftains, who had attained to a very considerable degree of civilization, so far as the conveniences and even the luxuries of life were concerned. They possessed a coinage stamped with regular dies, and used various implements, the manufacture of which indicates a condition much in advance of semi-barbarism. Even if the people who composed the nation, or rather the cluster of communities, were of different tribes, they resembled each other in the warlike and independent spirit, which not only refuses to acknow- ledge defeat, but declines to adopt the language of the conquerors as an acknowledgment of subjugation. Britain, " the last that was con- quered and the first that was flung away," was in reality one of the hardest nuts that the Roman arms were set to crack. The generals and governors sent hither were worn out or died in the constant effort to subdue the island, that it might be a province of Rome. The people would not be beaten; and it is certainly a proof, if not of a high degree 4 PICTURES AND KOYAL roRTRAITS. of civilization and of the power to organize means of defence, at least of courage and persistent determination, that a large and carefully equipped army which had been prepared, for the invasion under Julius Caesar, could only maintain a footing on the sea-coast. This army was over and over again unsuccessful against the British warriors in their chariots, who " perform the part both of rapid cavalry and of steady infantry; and, by constant exercise and use, have arrived at such expertness that they can stop their horses when at full speed in the most steep and difficult places, turn them which way they please, run along the carriage pole, rest on the harness, and throw themselves back into their chariots with incredible dexterity." These being the conditions under which Caesar was able to narrate the incidents of his visit to Britain, it is not very wonderful that the actual history of Britain before the Roman invasion should be regarded as half fabulous. Constant internecine war, as a consequence of the successive invasion of the island by various tribes who came hither for conquest or plunder, must have rendered it difficult or even impossible to preserve an unbroken series of traditions. At the same time the nations which were then at the head of civilization had little communication with these islands. Still later, the followers of Ida and Cerdic brought to their settlements in Britain all the superstitions of the Elbe, while the Teutonic chiefs who had settled in the provinces of the Roman Empire, Alaric, Theodoric, Clovis, and Alboin, were zealous Christians. The isolated position of Britain, and the struggle that was perpetuated there, cut off her people from communion with the continental kingdoms which had succeeded the Western Empire, and which " kept up some intercourse with those eastern provinces where the ancient civilization, though slowly fading away under the influence of misgovernment, might still astonish and instruct barbarians, where the court still exhibited the splendour of Diocletian and Constantine, where the public buildings were still adorned with the sculptures of Polycletus and the paintings of Apelles, and where laborious pedants, themselves destitute of taste, could still read and interpret the master-pieces of Sophocles, of Demosthenes, and of Plato. From this communion Britain was cut off Her shores were to the polished race which dwelt by the Bosphorus objects of a mysterious horror, such as that with which the lonians in the age of Homer had regarded the Straits of Scylla and the city of the Laestrygonian cannibals. CELTIC RELICS. 5 There was one province of our island in which, as Proconius has been told, the ground was covered with serpents, and the air was such that no man could inhale it and live. To this desolate region the spirits of the departed were ferried over from the land of the Franks at midnight. A strange race of fishermen performed the ghastly office. The speech of the dead was distinctly heard by the boatmen, their weight made the keel sink deep in the water, but their forms were invisible to mortal eye. Such were the marvels which an able historian, the contemporary of Belisarius, of Simplicius, and of Tribonian, gravely related touching the country in which the founder of Constantinople had assumed the imperial purple. Concerning all the other provinces of the Western Empire we have continuous information. It is only in Britain that an age of fable completely separates two ages of truth. Odoacer and Totila, Enric and Thrasimund, Clovis, Fredegunda, and Brunechild, are historical men and women. But Hengist and Horsa, Vortigern and Rowena, Arthur and Mordred, are mythical persons, whose very existence may be questioned, and whose adventures must be classed with those of Hercules and Romulus." ^ CELTIC RELICS. In the British Museum, and several other public and private collections, the relics of that period when the Celt chiefly occupied these islands are to be found in remarkable variety. The materials of which warlike and industrial implements are formed are stone, bronze, and iron, and it has been thought that these may indicate three successive periods, but there is perhaps no unquestionable reason for assigning to them a strictly chronological significance, as they may possibly vary only according to the social condition or the degree of importance of the persons or tribes to which they belonged. It is by no means certain, for instance, that the barrows or excavations where stone implements are found belong to an earlier time than those con- taining the articles of bronze; while ornaments of silver and gold, or of gold combined with bronze, have been discovered, and glass vessels, beads, trinkets, and various kinds of urns, ornamented cups, and ' Macaulay. 6 PICTURES AND ROVAL PORTRAITS. drinking-vessels have also been found in the cromlechs or burial places, and the cairns and tumuli in different parts of the country. The ruder implements are arrow-heads, or short chisel-shaped knives of stone set in handles of deers' horn, knives and daggers of flint and horn, stone hammer heads pierced or grooved for the reception of the hafts or handles, bodkins, armlets, and pins of bone and hard wood, and beads, pieces of amber, and other fragments of ornaments. The bronze adze-heads (named "celts"), spears, knives, and swords are many of them remarkable for their shape and finish, and not only the moulds for casting them, but also the portions of metal and the cinders found in the same spots as the moulds, show that they were the work of the people themselves ; while the presence of some of the most remarkable of the weapons, cups, and ornaments in the " cists" — or rude sarcophagi formed of slabs of sandstone sunk in the ground, and known to be the most ancient of the burial places which have been discovered — or in the mounds (or tumuli) and " cairns," or heaps of stones in other parts of the country, attest their antiquity. Curiously wrought ear-rlnsfs and beads of o-old and amber have been discovered, and " torques," or collars of gold worn round the neck and descending to the breast, as well as necklaces, gorgets, or breastplates, and armlets of bronze and gold, many of them beautifully ornamented, are among the more valuable relics. The " torque," or neck-chain, appears to have been an ornament of distinction, and consists of small rods of gold, silver, or bronze, so twisted as to form a kind of flexible ring, not completely joined, but capable of being opened where the extremities approach, in order to admit the neck of the wearer. Other specimens have been found which consist of elaborately chased and ornamented links. The Celts wore their rings on the middle finger, and the women wore numerous ornaments, consisting of beads, which formed necklaces, pins of bronze, and ivory bracelets. Not only these articles, numbers of which have been discovered in tombs and "barrows," but the ordinary household utensils and pieces of furniture, show a state con- siderably above barbarism. Their wicker-work was almost as ingenious and as widely utilized as the bamboo plaiting of the Chinese or Japanese. Their light and elegant baskets, which were adapted to all kinds of purposes, were the fashion in Rome itself; their river boats, or "coracles," were woven of compact and tenacious withes; the very walls of their CELTIC RELICS. PERSONAL ORNAMENTS, KTC, OF GOLD AND BRONZE. r. Gold Bracelet; found near Egerton Hall. Cheshire. 2. Bronze Fibula : found at Arras, Yorkshire. 3. Do. late Celtic ; from Horae Ferales. 4. Do. do. found at Borough, Westmoreland ; presented to the British Museum by Sir G. Musgrave, Baronet. 5. Bronze Horse Trapping, enamelled : found in London, now in the British Museum. 6. luianiellcd Ring, found at Stanwick ; from Horte Ferales. 7. Bronze Torque, found at Embsay, near Skipton, in Yorksliire ; from the Archasologia. 8. Gold Torque, found in Needwood Forest ; tlie property of the Queen. Gold Ear-ring, found near Castlerea, county Roscommon; in the Royal Irish .'\cademy. Bronze Ornament, found at Brighthanipton, in Cvfordshire; in the British Museum. Bronze Horse Trapping enamelled, found at Westhall, Suffolk ; in the British Museum. Bronze Horse Trapping, enamelled, found at Killeevan, near .-Vnalore; Kilkenny Archaeological Association. 13. Bronze Horse Trapping ; found on Bolden Hill, Somersetshire. 14. Bronze Bracelets, late Celtic, enamelled ; found near Dnmimond Castle, Perthshire. Presented by Lord Willoughby D'Eresby to the British Museum. 15. Belt of thin brass, repousse ; found at Standwiok ; from Hora; Ferales. '.'iM''^Xt:i> C F.J. TIC I^KI.ICS. \l. OBNA'.' DAWN OF CHRISTIANITY. 7 huts or houses were often composed of hurdles which held an impene- trable coating of cement or plaster. Cups, jars, and funeral or cinerary urns were common before the Roman invasion, and many of them are remarkable examples of ornamentation. We have already alluded to the coinage, to which a very early date must be assigned; and not only the chequered cloth and bracca of the Gauls, but the robes and apparel of a higher civilization, and obtained from people coming to Britain to trade, distinguished the inhabitants of the coast; even though in the interior, ruder and less enlightened tribes may have clothed themselves in the skins of animals. On the whole, it would appear that a consider- able degree of civilization was not wanting, but that there was too little organization, too great a difference among the tribes inhabiting the island, to enable the people to erect large buildings or permanent monuments. THE DAWN OF CHRISTIANITY IN BRITAIN. A new power had already been in operation before the coming of the Saxons, — that power before which Rome itself disappeared, and to which the victorious Goth submitted, and so founded upon a rock the new empire which he was instrumental in establishing. Strangely as it seems to us, at the very time when the British Roman colony was falling to pieces, and like Rome itself was quickly to become the prey of an invader, the country was divided by dogmatists who disputed fiercely on the subjects of Christian doctrine, or on the less important observances and ceremonials. There had been a difference between the Welsh and the English Church on the mode of computing Easter, and a revival of this question threatened to divide the churches of Mercia and Northumberland from those of the other part of the Heptarchy, the former having been founded by Scottish missionaries, while the latter received their instruction from France and Rome. The fashion of priests' tonsures was also a question which caused no little dissension. Animosity and ill-feeling prevailed till, at a council at Hereford in 673, the bishops agreed to observe the canons which Theodore had brought from Rome. The apostolic age had passed, and the orthodoxy of the Christian religion was made the excuse 8 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. for quarrels as bitter and as violent as those that had distinguished the various septs and tribes of former years. It is true that when the Romans abandoned the island the gospel had not been preached in several parts of it; but it is equally certain that as early as the year 314, Eborius, Bishop of York, Restitutus, Bishop of London, and Adelphius, Bishop of Richborough, represented Britain at the council at Aries, so that these islands were then regarded as a province, like Spain and Gaul, with a fully acknowledged church authority. This church of Britain was considered to be orthodox on the authority of St. Jerome and St. Chrysostom; but first the Arian and afterwards the Pelagian heresy troubled it, and as Bede tells us, the clergy sent to Gaul for the aid of learned bishops who would refute the errors by which they were threatened. Eventually Germanus of Auxerre and Severus of Treves not only silenced their opponents but caused them to be banished. Apart from the accounts of these disputes, however, we have no authentic record of the first or even of the earlier introduction of Christianity to Britain. It may be said that the kingdom of God had come without observation; and though it was established only in some parts of the island, and the faith of the gospel was to a great extent mingled with legends and observances that belonged to the old supersti- tions, it had begun to exercise its influence over the hearts and lives of men. All:)an, the Roman officer and first English martyr, had been beheaded probably as early as a.d. 303, during the persecutions of Diocletian, and his conversion was attributable to the instrumentality of a priest whom he had carefully concealed, in order to shelter him from his assailants. The Roman governor heard that the priest was in Alban's house, and sent soldiers to take him prisoner, but the generous Christian host had provided a safe retreat for his friend, and presented himself dressed in the priest's clothes. He was led before the eovernor, and declaring himself to be a Christian was scourged and afterwards beheaded; but it is said that his holy demeanour and his serene and cheerful courage converted to the Christian faith the soldier who was appointed to be his executioner. It is to Saint Augustine, the first historical missionary to England, that attention is usually directed when we speak of the planting of Christianity in this country, and with him we necessarily associate the Great Pope Gregory, who, long before he had succeeded Pelagius II. in the papal throne, had manifested an intense desire to preach the - z DAWN OF CHRISTIANITY. q gospel to the English people, who, it must be remembered, were no longer Britains but Anglo-Saxons. Most of us have heard or read the fine old story of Gregory's walk through the slave-market at Rome, and the immediate occasion of his effort to promote a mission to England. The legend is nearly thirteen hundred years old, but it remains as a part of the national history, and a record of the Christian charity and love for children, which were distinguishing characteristics of the Great Pope. Gregory was but a monk of the convent of St. Andrew on the Ccelian Mount, rising just behind the Coliseum, on that memorable day, the exact date of which is lost, when, amidst the crowd of African negroes, swarthy Egyptians, and lithe keen-eyed Greeks, who were ready to be sold, he noticed three fair boys, whose blue eyes and flowing flaxen hair — no less than the beauty of their features and their shapeliness of limb at once arrested attention. The monk stood gazing thoughtfully at the group. " Whence come these strange beautiful children ? " he inquired of the slave-dealer. " From Britain, where all the people are of that complexion," was the answer. " And what is the religion there ? " " They are Pagans." " Alas ! that eyes so bright and faces so full of light should be in the power of the Prince of Darkness, that such outward grace should belong to minds that have not the grace of God within — and what is their nation called ? " " Angles." " Well said, for they indeed have the faces of angels, and should be fellow-heirs with the angels in heaven. And is their land so called?" " They are Deirans, from that part of Britain named Deira."' "Well said again, for rightly are they named Deirans, plucked as they are from God's wrath {de ira Dei) and called to the nierc\- of heaven — what is the name of their king ? " " Ella." " Alleluia ! the praise of God their Creator shall be sung there, said the monk, and went at once to the pope to seek permission to go and preach the gospel in England." ' The tract of country between the Tyne and the Humber — Deira, the land of the wild deer. 2 lO PICTURES AND ROYAL TORTRAITS. The permission was granted, and Gregory quickly chose the men who should accompany him; but his intention was not destined to be fulfilled. Though but a monk he possessed great personal influence, and was a man of eminently popular talents. Whether he guessed what would be the consequence of his absence or received some private intelligence, it is perhaps futile to inquire; but the account of his mission goes on to state that when the missionaries were but three days' journey from Rome, and while they were resting from the sultry heat of noon, a locust leaped upon the book that Gregory was reading, and he at once drew a kind of augury from it, in the curious punning manner which was by no means uncommon among the early fathers of the church, who frequently used this epigrammatic style in reproof, exhortation, or instruction — a practice by no means unknown among Ensjlish and Scottish divines in more modern times. He interpreted the sudden messenger by its name locusta, and it seemed to say " loco .$■/v .! 1. Win.. KKr.IOS ASSOC l.\n--.I) Wnil TIIDMAS a BhXKET THOMAS X BECKET. 33 knight who, in the court of the Norman, held rank and power next to the king himself, is full of that kind of romantic vicissitude which excites the imagination, and frequently stirs the sentiments and the passions of men. To the student no less than to the general reader the history of Thomas a Becket offers vivid attractions. The chronicles of Fitz- Stephen, Gervase of Canterbury, Diceto, Peter of Blois, and other writers, eive us some consecutive accounts of this remarkable career, and as Fitz-Stephen was not only biographer but secretary to a Becket we are able to estimate the position which was held by the man who united the two distinctions of opposing the Norman influence, and at the same time of upholding the sacerdotal po\ver against a king, whose desire it was to oppose the growing arrogance and authority of the church and of the rival Popes, Victor IV., who was established at Rome under the protection of the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa, and Alexander III., who had found an asylum north of the Alps. Thomas a Becket was the son of a London tradesman, and was bom in 1 1 17. His father was not of Norman but of Saxon race, and the youth, who had many of the sympathies which belonged to his lineage, was the first of the Saxon people who rose to any great distinction under the Norman rule. To the advantages of a handsome person and a remarkably engaging address, he added great accomplishments and no little learning, for his father sent him to study first at Merton Abbey, afterwards to Oxford, and then to Paris, where he applied himself to the subject of civil law. Coming back to London he was employed as a clerk in the office of the sheriff, and attracted the attention of Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, who sent him to complete his studies at the famous school of Bologna, where he became a pupil of the learned Gratian. On returning to London he took deacon's orders, and was raised by the primate to the dignity of Archdeacon of Canter- bury, a position which demanded no church duties, and left him still in the position of a courtier and diplomatist. In this latter capacity the young and versatile favourite was sent to the court of Rome to conduct some important negotiations, and there, by his address, he obtained from the pope letters which defeated the project for crowning Eustace the son of Stephen. This brought him more prominently into notice, and thenceforw-ard he became the chosen friend and companion of Henry II. A Becket was now Lord High 34 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. Chancellor, and distinguished for the magnificence of his retinue and his sumptuous style of living, which was almost equal to, even when it did not exceed, that of his royal master. The greatest nobles of the court were glad to sit at his table, where Henry himself was sometimes a guest. The rich baronies of Eye and Berkham were bestowed on him, and his revenues were large and increasing. Though a churchman in deacon's orders, he joined in the gay amusements of the court; kept a stud of hunters, and with a large following of knights and retainers travelled in princely state. At Toulouse and on the borders of Nor- mandy he took part in military affairs, and everywhere held a foremost place not only by his personal accomplishments but by his wit and scholarship. It had long been the desire of Henry H. to diminish the power of the church and to define the ecclesiastical authority, and a Becket had seconded these efforts with no little ability, so that on the death of the primate Theobald, the king proposed to raise his trusted councillor to the see of Canterbury. This was effected without much difficulty, and a Becket assumed the archiepiscopal dignity. From that moment his mode of life was entirely changed. He was no longer the courtier and the man of pleasure, but the churchman who sought to discharge the duties of his high office — first, by relinquishing his chancellorship; secondly, by a life of simplicity, to which was frequently added consider- able austerity; thirdly, by upholding that ecclesiastical authority which his appointment to the see of Canterbury was intended to limit. Henry was astonished at the change which had suddenly come upon his friend and favourite, and it is not easy to explain it by attributing it to any one cause. The archbishop became the avowed champion of the church, and began at once to take measures for asserting its authority. Instead of supporting the royal power, he opposed it with an intensity and a persistency that must have arisen from some deep and earnest conviction. Perhaps his Saxon birth was the mainspring of his motives, for never since the Norman Conquest had a Saxon attained a position which made opposition to the throne effective. He was inclined to assert his ecclesiastical authority to the utmost, and to enforce it with all the powers of censure and even of excommunication. His first demonstration was to order the Earl of Clare to resign the barony of Tunbridge, which though it had been the property of the family ever since the conquest, had formerly belonged to the see of Canterbury. THOMAS A BECKET. 35 This was followed by other interpositions with regard to church pro- perty, and by an almost arrogant defiance of the royal authority. The great point of dispute at that time was the subjection of the clergy to the civil power in civil and criminal cases. Councils of churchmen had always demanded that priests were not liable to be tried by courts which were instituted by and for laymen, and consequently crimes com- mitted by the clergy were not liable to be punished by the magistrate, but only brought the culprits under the censure of the church. Henry declared that the ancient laws of the kingdom could not be superseded by the ecclesiastics; a Becket took the other side, and refused to deliver up to punishment a clerk in holy orders who had been guilty of murder. The king then summoned a council to meet at Clarendon, where they drew up the famous " Constitutions of Clarendon," against the pre- vailing abuses of ecclesiastical power. To these a Becket refused to assent, and it was only when he stood alone in his opposition, and found that he was in danger of being deserted by the clergy themselves, that he gave in his adhesion. But Pope Alexander refused to ratify the articles, and a Becket thereupon withdrew his consent, and pro- fessed to regard his former compliance as a fault requiring penance and the absolution of the pope. Unable to move the obstinate prelate on these grounds, the enraged king at once began to humble his fortunes, by suing him for large sums of money said to be due to the crown, and as a Becket did not appear in person, confiscating his property for contempt of court. A Becket saw that it was intended to work his ruin, and at once refused to acknowledge the authority of the court which condemned him, appealed to the pope, and ultimately succeeded in escaping to Sens, where Alexander received him with great distinction, while Lewis of France and Philip of Flanders both gave him a cordial welcome. Henry was powerless. He could fine and banish the friends and family of a Becket, but meantime, sustained by the support of the pope, the primate was pronouncing sentence of excommunication against the king's ministers who had favoured the Constitutions of Clarendon. Henry dreaded the moment when his own turn would come to be anathematized and at once began to negotiate for a reconciliation, which was only effected by great concessions to the former favourite; in return for which all that he obtained was absolution for the excommunicated ministers, and the withdrawal of threatened censure to himself o 6 riCTUKES AND KUYAL PORTRAITS. Amidst the acclamations of the people, but not without attempted hindrances from the nobles, a Becket returned to Canterbury, but only to resume the demonstrations of that ecclesiastical authority, which he demanded for the church as superior to the civil power. He issued severe censures against the Archbishop of York and the Bishops of London and Salisbury, who in his absence had usurped the right of officiating at the coronation of his former pupil, the young Prince Henry. He excommunicated Robert de Broc, Nigel de Sackville, and others who had assisted at the ceremony. All these people had been his personal enemies, and had tried to ruin him. The prelates left England for the Continent, where they appealed to Henry, who was still at Montmirail. When Henry heard of this resumption of hostilities he was seized with an ungovernable fit of rage, and is said to have ejaculated, "What sluggard wretches, what cowards have I brought up in my court! Not one will deliver me from this low-born priest." The words led to swift action. Without deliberation four knights, Reginald Fitzurse, Hugh de Moreville, William de Tracy, and Richard le Brez, stole from the court, embarked by different routes to England, and met near Canterbury. On the evening of the 29th of December these four men entered the chamber of the archbishop, who, though he had been warned by a letter, seems to have scorned to appear afraid. His visitors declared that they only sought to bring the primate to allegiance, and demanded that he should absolve the bishops. He refused, and words ran high, a Becket not sparing epithets and denunciations. The knights went out calling, " To arms, to arms! king's men, king's men!" The attendants of the archbishop saw his danger, and implored him to take refuge in the church. He at first refused, but as the sound of the vespers reached him he con- sented to enter the sacred precincts, as it was his duty to be present. He had not reached the altar when the four knights rushed in fully armed, and heedless of sacrilege. After great confusion and contention Fitzurse struck at the primate's head with his sword, but the blow was warded by an attendant, whose arm was broken by the force of the blow, which fell more slightly on his master. The archbishop was wounded, and with the blood running down his face said, " For the name of Jesus, and in defence of the church, I am willing to die." The blows of two others of his assailants followed, and he fell close THE LION-HEAKT. 37 to the foot of St. Bennet's altar, a third stroke from a sword cleaving his skull, so that his brains were scattered on the pavement. The terrified priests and the crowd which had assembled at once proclaimed him a martyr; and the title attained strength from the discovery of the monks, who, in preparing the body for burial, found by the marks of penance that the proud and once lu.\urious a Becket had practised austerities to which they themselves were strangers. Soon the story of these marks of humility and self mortification was made known. People who had dipped cloths and handkerchiefs in the blood of the martyred archbishop began to speak of miracles effected by their means. In spite of the prohibitions and threats of Robert de Broc, the monks buried the body with great solemnity in the crj'pt of the cathedral. The king himself was alarmed at the effects of his words spoken in passion, and disclaimed any such intention as had been attributed to him. In order to avert the probable consequences of the act, which might have brought upon him the excommunication of the pope, shut himself up to fasting and solitude, and ultimately proffered an oath upon the holy Gospels and relics at Avranches that he had neither ordered nor desired the murder of the archbishop. This oath was sworn before the two legates of the pope and a large concourse of clergy and people; and having been accompanied by large payments of money, sufficed to obtain absolution, though, as he could not deny that his wrathful words had been the occasion of the crime, he also agreed to maintain 200 knights during a year for the defence of the Holy Land, and to serve himself if it should be required of him. At the same time he engaged to restore to the family and friends of a Becket all their possessions, and to relinquish such customs against the church as had been introduced in his time. THE LION-HEART. In Richard of Aquitaine, or, as he was for some time called, of Poitou, there seemed to revive some of those personal qualities which were conspicuous in William the Conqueror. Henry II. had exhibited some- 28 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. thing of the statesmanship and the executive control which distinguished the first Norman ruler; and his son Richard, though he scarcely equalled him in administrative ability, yet possessed those personal qualifications wliich gave him an heroic aspect and signalized him as a leader of men; fitted alike by an imposing figure and by an undaunted courage to com- mand those by whom he was surrounded. It is scarcely to be wondered at that, while Cceur de Lion is so prominent a figure in what may be called the romance of history, he is so differently regarded by various writers who discuss his character and influence. While on the one hand he is represented as a Troubadour knight, speaking the language of Southern France and possessing the accom- plishments of those poet-warriors of Aquitaine of whom he was the companion in arms, — he is on the other side represented as a fierce and ruthless conqueror delighting in battle and with a propensity to coarse and almost brutal indulgences. There can be little doubt that he combined something of both char- acters — that while he exhibited the strong characteristics of the Vik- ings, from whom he could claim direct descent, his habits were greatly modified by the influences of early training and education as well as by the influence of his mother, the heiress of the land south of the Loire. There was the commanding presence which overawed opposition, and seemed to stamp him as a natural leader of men; there was the chival- rous yet somewhat stern courtesy; there was the uncompromising pride; there was the adventurous spirit, in which the love of fame and the law- less greed of acquisition seemed to be blended in almosfequal propor- tions; there was the devotion to a great purpose of an enthusiast, often distracted for a moment by the temptation of immediate adventure and gain, but using even these distractions as new instruments in its further prosecution; there was the thirst for battle, and the delight in the mere physical contest, and yet the common sense and shrewdness of percep- tion which could see the limits of acquisition and of fame, and could turn away from fruitless laurels.^ The vicissitudes which Richard L suffered, and the treachery and cruelty of his enemies, never seemed to subdue his spirit; and though he sometimes made severe reprisals, he was not wanting in an impul- sive and noble generosity. As an example of his unconquerable courage ' Sanford's EstimaUs of English Kings, THE LION-HEART. 39 may be cited the boldness with which, after enduring sickness and a long imprisonment in the castle of Tiernsteign, where the base and cowardly Henry, emperor of Germany, loaded him with chains, he maintained his cause by frank and noble speech in presence of the council before which he was brought, proudly declaring that as King of England none there had a right to call him to account, but flinging back the foul charges brought against him. His revenge was, it is true, shown by the refusal to release the Bishop of Beauvais, a relative of the French king and one of Richard's bitterest enemies, who was taken prisoner while fighting in complete armour by Marchadee, the leader of the Brabanters, who was in Richard's service during the long war with Philip of France. The king ordered him to be loaded with irons and imprisoned in the Castle of Rouen. When two of the bishop's chaplains waited on Richard to ask for milder treatment for their master, he answered them by saying, " You yourself shall judge whether I am not justified. This man has done me many wrongs. Much I could forget, but not this. When in the hands of the emperor, and when, in consideration of my royal character, they were beginning to treat me more gently and with some marks of respect, your master arrived, and I soon experienced the effects of his visit; overnight he spoke with the emperor, and in the morning a chain was put upon me such as a horse could hardly bear." The bishop afterwards implored the intercession of the pope (Clementine), who, however, upbraiding him with his departure from canonical rules, consented only to ask for mercy as a friend and refused to interfere as pope. He wrote to Richard, how- ever, requesting him to pity his son the bishop; to which entreaty the king responded, by sending to the pontiff the blood-stained coat of mail which the bishop wore when he was taken prisoner, with a scroll attached to it inscribed with the words, " This have we found, know now whether it be thy son's coat or no." The ready and noble generosity of Cceur de IJon may be illustrated by his prompt forgiveness (at the intercession of his mother Eleanor) of his despicable brother John, who had done all he could to ruin and supplant him. There was perhaps something a little contemptuous, however, in his remark : " I forgive him, and hope I shall as easily forget his injuries as he will forget my pardon." It is scarcely to be wondered at that this bold frank man should have exacted from his equally chivalrous foes an admiration which in 40 PICTURi;S AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. some instances led them to regard him with a kind of loyal friendship. There can be no doubt that he and Saladin, the accomplished and warlike chief of the Saracens, respected each other; and we can scarcely wonder that the battle of Jaffa should have made the English king famous both among friends and foes. Deserted by the French and Germans under their treacherous leaders, Richard had fallen back upon Acre, and Saladin, ever vigilant, at once came down from the mountains of Judea and took Jaffa all but the citadel. The king immediately ordered his few stanch troops to march by land to its relief, while he and a small retinue of knights took seven vessels and hastened to make the journey by sea. On arriving in the roadstead they found the beach occupied in force by the enemy; but rejecting the advice of his companions, Richard at once leaped into the water, exclaiming, "Cursed for ever be he that followeth me not." There was enough force in that great stalwart frame and strong arm to represent half-a-dozen ordinary men, and one and all sprang after him with a shout and a fierce onslaught that dispersed the best of the Saracens and retook the town. The next day Saladin appeared with the main body of his army, and Richard's troops had also arrived though they were greatly inferior in number. Here was an occasion when as general and leader Coeur de Lion made up for the want of a more numerous army. His dispositions were so well ordered, his personal valour so conspicuous, that victory was the result. Every champion who met Richard that day was dismounted, and his untiring arm smote on till nightfall. The generous admiration of Saphadin the brother of Saladin was so moved that when the king's charger was killed he sent him two magnificent horses as a present. There was something wildly chivalrous about the feeling of these warriors towards each other. Every time that Coeur de Lion headed the charge the Saracens broke and fled. No wonder that his name became a word of fear among the Mussulmans and of fame amongst friends and enemies alike. Tall above the middle height, but more remarkable for his broad chest and strong yet pliant sinews, he was by general confession physically the strongest of living men of his time, and he was also the least accessible to fear and the most self-confident in his strength. Strange that after all, this great warrior should be slain by an arrow from a rebel among his Poictevin vassals. For some time a ballad had been known to exist in Normandy, the burden of which was that in THE LION-HEART. ^I Limousin the arrow was making by which the tyrant would die; but this, perhaps, was common during the reign of Henry also, for he was shot at more than once by these disaffected men of the south. The exact occasion of Richard's death-wound is perhaps uncertain, but the most fully accredited account is that it was duringr a visit to Vidomar, Viscount of Limoges, who had found a treasure, and refusing to give up the due share to Richard as his lord, was being besieged by the king m his castle of Chaluz. Richard, with Marchadee, the captain of his Brabant mercenaries, was viewing the stronghold to see where a breach might best be effected, when a youth named Bertrand de Gurdun recognized him from the ramparts, and at once discharged an arrow v/hich entered the king's shoulder. Soon after, the castle was taken by assault, and the wound, which was not in itself very dangerous, had been made mortal by unskilful attempts to extract the arrow head. Bertrand de Gurdun, who was among the few of those who remained alive after the victory, was brought before Richard. "Wretch," said the king, "what harm have I done to thee that thou shouldst seek my life ?" to which the man made answer, " You slew my father and my two brothers with your own hand, and you had intended now to kill me ; therefore take any revenge on me that you may think fit, for I will readily endure the greatest torments so long as you have met with your end after having inflicted evils so many and so great upon the world." "Youth, I forgive thee," cried Richard; "loose his chains and give him a hundred shillings;" but the youth stood before the king, and with scowling features and undaunted neck did his courage demand, the sword. " Live on," said Richard, " although thou art unwilling, and by my bounty behold the light of day. To the conquered faction now let there be bright hopes and the example of myself." Richard was frequently addicted to gross and sensual indulgence, but his fits of penitence seem to have been sincere; and he had a real respect for religion, though he did not always forbear jesting with the clergy, and making shrewd and pungent speeches at their expense. Indeed his wit was caustic, and his ability as a serious lampooner was an accomplishment which properly belonged to him as a poet knight of Languedoc. Perhaps the most remarkable instance of it was his retort to the bishop, who, coming to visit him on his death-bed, and being 42 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. asked by the king what he should do, replied, " Consider of disposing of thy daughters in marriage and do penance." " This confirms what I said before," said the king, " that you are jesting with me, for you know that I never had either daughters or sons." "Of a truth, O King," rejoined the bishop, "you have three daughters, and have had and nourished them long; for as your first- born daughter you have Pride; as your second, Covetousness ; as your third, Self-indtilgence. These you have had and have loved out of all reason from your very youth." " True, it is," said the king, " that I have had these, and thus it is that I will bestow them in marriage. My first-born. Pride, I give to the Templars, who are swollen with insolence and puffed up beyond all others. My second, that is Covetousness, I give to the Gray Friars, who with their covetousness molest all their neighbours like mad devils. My last, however, namely, Self-indulgence, I make over to the Black Friars, who devour roast meat and fried, and are never satiated." A strange contention this at the death-bed of a king, but not out of keeping with a time which has grown almost as unfamiliar to many of us as that of which we read when we take up the history of Greece or Rome. Richard of the Lion-Heart was a great man — of an English pattern, however. Not without some of the diplomacy of his father Henry, but with more warlike ability and robust physical force. He was only forty-two years old when he died, after reigning ten years, all of which were years of strife. His body was carried to Fontevraud, where it was buried at the feet of his father. His heart was deposited in two caskets of lead and deposited in the Cathedral at Rouen, where it was discovered "withered to the semblance of a faded leaf" on the 31st July, 1838. It was then in a cavity in the lateral wall near the effigy which was hidden beneath the pavement of the choir. The thin leaf of silver which had inclosed the heart in the inner casket was rudely inscribed, -h Hic jACET : Cor : Ricar. Di : Regis : Anglorum ; ROGER DE MORTIMER. 43 ROGER DE MORTIMER. The name of this man is inscribed on one of the darkest pages of EngHsh history, and though it is associated with the great house of Lancaster, which afterwards long maintained its power over the English throne, it can only be regarded as equalling in infamy that of the wicked and ignoble king whose neglected queen chose the great noble for her paramour. The weak tool of base favourites and the companion of sots and buffoons, Edward II. appears to have been afflicted with a moral imbecility which prevented him from being true either to himself or to others, except in the two instances of Piers Gaveston and Hugh Despenser, to whom he showed in succession an almost idiotic and fawning complacency, which aroused the wrath of the nobles whom they superseded and the nation whom they wronged. For Gaveston, whose presence in England Edward I. had forbidden just before his death, the king neglected wife, and throne, and state, subversed his councils, and betrayed his friends. The war which his father had carried on against Scotland and had left to him to continue sank into a mere pretence of hostilities, till the barons demanded annual parliaments and decreed that all grants made to Gaveston should be recalled. Edward was compelled to yield, and when Gaveston retired to Flanders, pre- pared to go to York after the dissolution of the assembly, for the great Bruce was already beginning to achieve the entire deliverance and independence of Scotland. The queen, the lovely Isabella of France, was left behind with the utmost indifference, and in a few weeks Gaveston was back again with the king, who restored all his estates and honours. His time had come, however. The Earl of Lancaster, cousin to Edward, headed the barons who came upon the royal party at Newcastle, whence the king escaped; while Gaveston retreated to Scarborough Castle, was besieged there, and, after capitulating, was conveyed to Dedington, where the grim Earl of Warwick met him and carried him to Warwick Castle. There he was tried by a hasty council consisting of the Earls of Lancaster, Hereford, and Arundel, who, with other chiefs, condemned him to death, a sentence which was at once 44 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. executed on Blacklow Hill, a rising knoll overlooking the Avon, where he was beheaded. Then followed that series of achievements by which Bruce and his patriotic followers maintained the independence of Scotland — ending with the battle of Bannockburn, where the great English army was overthrown by a force much fewer in number and with vastly inferior equipments. Not till the Scottish forces had by a series of incursions carried their arms into Yorkshire, was a truce concluded which was to last for two years, after which there was to be a suspension of arms for thirteen years, unaffected by the death of either or both of the con- tracting parties. But in those two years Edward had contrived to ruin his own claim to hold the throne, by alienating from him both the barons and the people. Another favourite (Hugh Despenser) had taken the place of Gaveston, and with the same result. Sentence of banishment was pronounced against the whole family of the Despensers in August, 1321 ; in October they had returned, encouraged by the sudden action of the king, who had caused twelve knights of the opposite party to be hanged — and by the sudden departure to the north of the Earl of Lancaster, who as a prince of the blood was their most powerful enemy. For a time it appeared as though Edward would regain his position and be able to maintain that of his favourites, for Lancaster had agreed with the Scots that an army should be sent across the border to join his own forces. This aroused the wrath of the English people, who thence- forward looked upon him as a traitor, and he was finally compelled to surrender with a number of other knights after an engagement in which several of his companions were killed. In his own castle of Pontefract a court was formed of six earls and a number of barons of the king's party. Lancaster was tried and found guilty of treason, and amidst insult and indignities was led to execution along with twenty-nine of his followers, consisting of knights and baronets, while many were thrown into prison. Others escaped to France, where they soon began to plan the ruin of the king and his adherents. The latter had already provoked the hatred of the nation by their arrogance, while Edward himself had disgusted the people by his vices, and had aroused indignation by the suspension of hostilities with Scotland, although that measure may be considered as the most politic he could have adopted under the constant reverses which he ROGER DE MORTIMER. 45 had experienced in the endeavour to repulse Bruce and his advancing army. After the treaty was concluded an attempt was made first to remove the elder Despenser, and next to liberate some of the Lancastrian prisoners. It failed, except in one important instance. Roger de Mortimer, who had been twice condemned for treason, and was then lying in the Tower of London under sentence of death, contrived to drug his keepers and to escape by means of a ladder of ropes, after which he succeeded in reaching the Hampshire coast, and crossing to France, where he joined the malcontents. The plan against the king was not yet complete. It needed the presence of the Queen Isabella and of the young Prince Edward, her son, to make it secure. Charles le Bel, Isabella's brother, had long had a dispute with Edward III. on the subject of sundry English possessions, which he (Charles) had seized on the Continent, and the queen represented to her husband that she could obtain from him acknowledgments of more importance than he would yield to ambas- sadors. Edward agreed that she should proceed to Paris; and in March, 1325, she set out with a splendid retinue for Boulogne. The treaty which she made demanded the presence of Edward himself to do homage for the territory he was allowed to retain in France, a proposition the dishonour of which he appears not to have resented, since he prepared to make the voyage and reached Dover, whence he sent word that sickness prevented him from concluding his journey. It has been supposed that the Despensers — who did not dare to accompany him to Paris, where their enemies were so powerful, and who almost equally dreaded being left alone in England — persuaded him to remain. An answer was returned that if he would concede Ponthicu and Guierre to his son the boy might be allowed to represent him, and to this he acceded, so that the whole party of his enemies were united in France, with Roger de Mortimer as the representative of the house of Lancaster, and the queen at their head. Between Isabella, who was still beautiful and no more than twenty- eight years of age, and de Mortimer, who was one of the handsomest and most accomplished men of his time, there arose a guilty companion- ship, which for a time seemed likely to frustrate the plot against Edward; for Hugh Despenser bribed the F"rench ministers to prevent the forma- tion of an army in the cause of Isabella, and at the same time induced 46 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. his master to write to the pope, asking him to compel Charles to restore Isabella to England, a request which the pontiff granted by threatening to excommunicate Charles unless he sent his sister to her husband. In feigned anger Charles urged the queen to return, or at all events to leave his kingdom; and she, with the Lancastrians, took refuge with his vassal, the Count of Hainault, to whose daughter the Prince of Wales was soon afterwards affianced. A strong party was formed, which was joined by the ambassadors whom Edward had sent to France, so that an army of 2000 men was ready, headed by Roger de Mortimer, and including not only the exiles of high rank and station — who were so numerous that scarcely one of the whole force was below the rank of knight — but the Earl of Kent (brother to the king), the Earl of Richmond, Lord Beaumont, and the Bishop of Norwich, the ambassador who had joined the queen in the Low Countries. There were at the same time numerous partisans in England, under the leadership of Bishop Orleton, ready to pronounce against the king. When Isabella and her followers landed at Orwell, in Suffolk, she was received with enthusiasm. The force sent to oppose her at once joined her standard and that of the young prince. The Earl of Norfolk, Edward's other brother, was ready to receive her, the bishops offered their services. Edward was abandoned alike by nobles and people. The citizens of London refused to aid him against the queen and prince, and he fled with his few retainers, the two Despensers, and the Chancellor Baldock. At Bristol the elder Despenser was taken, tried, and almost immediately executed with horrible torture, and then the barons issued a proclamation summoning Edward to return to the throne. They had no expectation that he would resume his reign, and the next day, assuming the privileges of a parliament, they declared that he had left the country without a ruler, and that the Prince of Wales was the hereditary guardian of the kingdoms. The younger Despenser met with the same dreadful doom as his father, and was hanged at Hereford on a gallows 50 feet high. Baldock, as a priest, was spared from the scaffold, but died not long afterwards a prisoner in Newgate. We need not here enter into the terrible tragedy which followed, nor dwell upon the foul murder of the deserted king, whose imprison- ment for two months preceded the declaration that he had ceased to reign. That sentence was received by the nation without any voice being raised in his behalf, and the Prince of Wales was proclaimed ROGER DE MORTIMER. 47 amidst general acclamation. Five days afterward Stratford, Bishop of Winchester, produced a bill charging Edward of Caernarvon with shameful indolence, incapacity, cowardice, cruelty, and oppression. The young Edward was present in parliament and seated on the throne when the charge was made and the sentence of deposition confirmed. The queen pretended some sorrow. On the 20th of January, 1327, a deputation of bishops, knights, and nobles, representing each county in England, proceeded to Kenilworth, where Edward was confined, to tell him that the people no longer owed him allegiance, and to demand that he should resign the crown. He appeared in the hall wrapped in a common black gown, and at the sight of Bishop Orleton fell to the ground in a swoon. He agreed to every demand, thanked the par- liament for not having overlooked his son, and then had to listen to the declaration that he was no longer king, and to witness the breaking of the White Staff, or wand of office, by the steward of the royal house- hold. Sir Thomas Blount — a ceremony usually performed on the death of the sovereign. He had not long to live. The fearful tragedy which was after- wards enacted was said to have been caused by certain plots which were formed against Mortimer, with the intention of supporting the renewal of the royal claims. Edward was the prisoner of the Earl of Lancaster, who, though he might have been expected to avenge the death of a brother, treated the deposed king with some courtesy and kindness. When he was removed from Lancaster's custody to that of Sir John Maltravers, who had also suffered great wrongs, he was made to travel by night, and, as though with the purpose of concealing his place of confinement, became a prisoner at three or four different castles. At last he was taken to Berkeley Castle, where Lord Berkeley was associated with Maltravers as his jailer, and proved to be a less fierce and cruel one. But Berkeley fell sick, and during a temporary absence his place was by order of Mortimer filled by Thomas Gourney and William Ogle. Then came that dark September night when shrieks and " a wailful noise " were heard from the castle even by people in the town. The next morning the castle gates were thrown open, and all comers were admitted to see the body of Edward of Caernarvon, who had died in the night "of a sudden disorder." There were no outward marks of violence, but the coun- tenance was distorted and horrible to look upon. Rumours of foul and 48 PICTURES AND KOYAL I'URI'KAITS. secret murder were rife, but few seemed to care for the fate of tlie wretched king, whose corpse was conveyed to Gloucester and buried in the Abbey Church, the Berkeley family attending the funeral. The young Edward was but fourteen, and Queen Isabella, who was herself entirely controlled by Mortimer, became the ruler of the nation. The Earl of Lancaster, who was the guardian of Edward, attempted to oppose the tj-rannous usurpation of this bold bad man, who had been loaded with honours, made Earl of March, and was overbearing the council of the regency; but Lancaster stood alone; the prince remained with his mother and the favourite, and the Earls of Kent and Norfolk deserted their kinsman, who, having retreated, left his estates to be plundered by his enemy, and was then obliged to sue for pardon and to pay an enormous fine. The Earl of Kent was doomed, and by an artful plot Mortimer effected his ruin. Agents were employed to represent to him that his brother (Edward IL) was not dead; that it was the corpse of another which had been taken from Berkeley Castle and buried at Gloucester; that the late king was still a prisoner at Corfe Castle. Some monks were found who urged him to release the captive, and restore him to the throne. Forged letters, said to come from the pope, and advising the same course, were brought to him. He was induced to write to his brother, whom he was persuaded was not dead. The letters were conveyed by Maltravers to Isabella and Mortimer, who immediately summoned a parliament to try Kent for high treason. Sentence of death was pronounced, and though it was supposed that his royal blood would protect him he was taken out and beheaded— after the execution had been delayed for some hours till a condemned felon could be found who would consent to do the work of headsman on condition of a free pardon, and because no one could be induced to undertake the office. Retribution was already on the heels of the arrogant usurper. Edward was eighteen years old, and had married Philippa, who bore him a son — afterwards to become that famous Black Prince who is so prominent a person in English history. It was time for the young king to assert his power, and he prepared for the cunnine and sudden overthrow alike of Isabella and Mortimer. Lord Montacute was the adviser with whom he cautiously conferred, and their plan must have been formed with remarkable secrecy. The parliament was to meet at Nottingham. The young king lodged ROGER DE MORTIMER. 49 at the castle with Mortimer and his mother. On the morning of the assembly Montacute and a number of his friends and retainers were observed to ride away from the town, after a private conference with Edward. Mortimer had received some intelligence, and with his usual audacity appeared before the council and declared that a con- spiracy known to the king was being attempted against himself and the queen. Edward denied the accusation and was insulted. That same night Montacute and his party quietly returned to Notting- ham, where in the castle Mortimer, the Bishop of Lincoln, and others who were in his confidence, sat late and in serious consultation. The castle was well defended, a vigilant watch was kept, and the keys of the gate were every night carried to Isabella, who kept them by her bed-side. But there was a secret subterranean passage, the entrance to which was overgrown with briars, at the foot of the castle hill. By this difficult way, which had been made known to them by the governor of the place, Montacute and his friends crawled to the foot of the tower, where Edward led them up a staircase into an apartment which was in complete darkness, but where they heard in the larger hall the voices of Mortimer and his associates. Suddenly the assailants burst open the door, killed two knights who tried to defend it, and seized upon the favourite in spite of the entreaties of Isabella, who rushed from her chamber imploring her "sweet son" to spare her "gentle Mortimer." Mortimer was dragged from the castle and confined in another place, and on the following morning a proclamation was issued declaring that Edward had assumed the government, and calling a new parliament at Westminster. Before this parliament Roger de Mortimer was called to answer for the crimes which had wrought such evil to the highest families in the land, and for usurping the power of the Council of Regency, procuring the death of Edward the late king, and accom- plishing the judicial murder of the Earl of Kent. To these charges were added that of appropriation of the king's moneys, and notoriously of 20,000 marks which had been paid by the King of Scots when the final treaty of peace was signed after the last incursion of Robert Bruce, when the young Edward took the field and the English and the Scottish armies lay one on either side of the river Wear for eighteen long days and nights without coming to an engagement. All these charges against the man who had lorded it over his peers the council found to be " notoriously true and known to them and all the people." 7 50 PICTURES AND KOYAL PORTRAITS. They sentenced Mortimer to a felon's death. He was to be drawn and hanged. Edward was present in court as he was at the impeach- ment of his father; and when Mortimer was sentenced, he desired that the accomplices might be tried also. After a protest that they were not bound to sit in judgment on men of inferior rank, the peers found Sir Simon Hereford, Sir John Maltravers, John Deverel, and Boeges de Bayonne also guilty, and condemned them to death; but three of them had already escaped, and Bereford alone accompanied Mortimer to the scaffold, when he was hanged at "The Elms" in Smithfield, on the 29th of November, his body remaining " two days and two nights to be seen of the people." The queen-mother, Isabella, was compelled to relinquish her wealth, and passed the remaining twenty-seven years of her life in obscurity in her manor house at Risings. A price was set on the head of Gourney and Ogle, the former of whom was arrested in Spain and handed over to an English officer, who, obeying secret instructions, cut off his head at sea. Sir John Maltravers was executed on the charge of aiding Mortimer in his plot against the Earl of Kent. Lord Berkeley, in whose castle this happened, declared his innocence, demanded a trial, and was acquitted. Thus fell the powerful clique which had ruled England, and the members of which, after having dethroned Edward of Caernarvon and placed the young prince upon the throne, were removed like puppets from the scene. THE DAWN OF THE REFORMATION. During the reign of Edward 1 1 1, a silent alteration had been wrought in the condition of the lower classes. Feudalism was beginning its slow decline, the divisions in the state made by contending parties, the divisions in the church made by contending popes, and a general upheaving of society, followed or preceded those political agitations, which, though they appeared to be confined to the barons and chiefs of houses, yet involved the common people, and still more the bur- gesses, who had already attained to some political power in parliament. THE DAWN OF THE REFORMATION. 51 These events roused the thoughts of men and created a certain desire for freedom of thought and conscience. At this time too there arose a number of earnest followers of a preacher whose undaunted cour- age and personal independence at once attracted the bold and encour- aged the timid. " Second to none in philosophy, and in the discipline of the schools incomparable," was the testimony which Knighton, one . of his bitterest enemies, bore to the attainments of John of Wycliffe, "the morning-star of the Reformation." Wycliffe first rose into pro- minence by his courageous denunciations of the mendicant friars with whom England was at that time swarming. He declared that they interfered with the duties of the settled priesthood. He denounced all the orders, the higher as hypocrites, who, in spite of their professions of poverty and affectation of beggary, fared sumptuously, dwelt in grand houses, and lived in the luxury of wealth; the lower kind as common able-bodied vagabonds and idle saunterers. The opinions of this early reformer advanced so rapidly, that though he did not altogether separate himself from the Roman Catholic communion, he began by question- ing the polity of Romanism and eventually declared its theology to be erroneous. He has been compared to Calvin, with the difference that he was broader and more liberal in doctrine, — the whole system of the hierarchy he regarded as the result of priestly ambition, the first step being the distinction between bishop and presbyter, which he declared was an innovation on the practice of the primitive church, where all were equal. He was for disestablishment and disendowment, asserting that pastors should depend on the free offerings of their flocks. He himself was a missionary preacher, and his followers, whom he called "poor priests," were directed to go and preach, as it was the sublimest work; but at the same time they were not to imitate the priests, who after the sermon were to be seen sitting in the ale-houses, or at the gaming- table, or wasting their time in hunting. After their sermon was ended they were to visit the sick, the aged, the poor, the blind and the lame, and succour them according to their ability. A century after Wycliffe's death his doctrine— expounded in numberiess manuscripts, and its free- dom aided by the Scriptures, of which he had produced a version for the common people— revived in the Lollards, who themselves survived persecution and eventually succeeded in establishing the supremacy of Protestantism. PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. JOHN WYCLIFFE. John Wycliffe was born during the reign of Edward II., in the year 1324, at the village of Wycliffe in the valley of the Tees, and in the North Riding of Yorkshire. His family, which was a good one, had long resided in those parts, and he was sent about the age of sixteen to Oxford. At that time Oxford was a great place of resort, and thousands, not only from all quarters at home, but from abroad, pursued their studies there. Among the professors it may suffice to mention Bradwardine, who was drawing to the close of a brilliant career as an astronomer, a mathematician, and a teacher of religion, when Wycliffe entered. Of our young student's course at the university not much is known, but he went through the usual curriculum, and eventually became a fellow of his college, that of Merton. By the time he had reached the age of thirty-two he appears to have commenced his crusade against the ecclesiastical corruptions of his day; and in 1360 he distinguished himself by his activity in opposing the encroachments of the mendicant friars. In 1361 he was appointed master of Balliol College, in which capacity he was authorized to give public lectures on the Scriptures. Soon after, he was presented to the living of Fillingham, which he subsequently exchanged for another. In 1365 he was made Warden of Canterbury Hall, a new college founded at Oxford by Simon de Islip. By its constitution the fellowships of this college were to be held by four monks and eight secular priests, but the rivalry which sprang up between them led the founder to dismiss the monks, to substitute priests for them, and to make Wycliffe the warden or master. Ere long Islip died, and Langham, his successor, restored the monks and dismissed Wycliffe, who appealed to the pope, but who, after three years of waiting, found that the decision was given against him. In the meantime Wycliffe had been brought into greater prominence. Many years before, the pope had exacted an annual tribute of a thousand marks from King John, but in course of time the payment had been quietly discontinued. In 1365 Urban V. made a demand for the annual tribute and all arrears, and intimated that if Edward III. failed to JOHN WYCLIFFE. 53 comply he would be summoned to Rome, there to appear before his lord the pope and answer for his contumacy. Instead of submitting, the king summoned parliament, laid the pope's missive before the house, and bade it consider and say what reply should go back. The parlia- ment decided not to pay the money. The pontifif, however, had his supporters, and a monk who undertook to be his champion challenged Wycliffe to dispute the question. The challenge was accepted, the papal claims were powerfully resisted, and the English nation paid no more tribute to Rome, a result which was very acceptable not only to the people, but to the king himself. In 1372 Wycliffe became Doctor of Divinity, and as such was author- ized to open his own school as a public teacher of theology in the university. The quarrel with the pope was not yet over, however, and was no longer confined to the question of tribute, but extended to other matters, which gravely affected the rights of the crown and the property of the nation. The Papal see reserved to itself a goodly number of wealthy benefices in England, and presented to them Italians and other foreigners. In 1373 the king sent commissioners to the pope, Gregory XL, to complain and seek redress, but to no purpose. The next year, a royal commission was appointed to estimate the number and value of the ecclesiastical posts occupied in this country by foreigners. Negotiations with the pope were renewed, and Wycliffe was one of the commissioners sent out as delegates. They met at Bruges, and after two years an unsatisfactory compromise was come to. During these two years Wycliffe remained abroad, and soon after his return was made rector of Lutterworth. Public opinion was forming, and the English spirit of independence was growing stronger every day; nor can we doubt that ^\'ycliffe power- fully contributed to this improvement by his writings, his preaching, and his counsels. It is no matter for surprise that the adherents to Roman practices and the Papal system took the alarm, and looked round for the means of getting Wycliffe out of the way. His patriotic policy was popular at court, where he had many powerful friends; but he might still be accused of heresy, and this course was adopted. In February, 1377, convocation met, and summoned him to appear and answer the charge of holding and publishing erroneous and heretical opinions. Courtney, the new Bishop of London, was a leader 54 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. in this business. The reformer, as we may now call W'ycliffe, answered the summons, and presented himself at St. Paul's before the reverend assembly. Not alone, however, for he was attended by John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and Lord Percy the earl-marshal. There was a vast crowd eager to see what happened, and an alterca- tion ensued between Wycliffe's friends and the bishop. Some of the harsh words which fell from the duke excited popular feeling, confusion ensued, and nothing was done. Great riots took place out of doors, but they were soon suppressed, and settled no controversy. A few months later Edward IIL died, and was succeeded by Richard IL, whose first parliament inherited the national spirit of opposition to the Roman see, which, by taking out money and sending in men and dictates, seemed at once to attack the liberties and the prosperity of the country. About this time the pope wrote letters against Wycliffe to the king, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the University of Oxford, requiring immediate steps to ascertain his opinions, to condemn them so far as heretical or erroneous, and to prevent their diffusion. The university hesitated, but the clergy were prompt, and the archbishop wrote to the chancellor of Oxford, ordering him to proceed. As a result, early in 1378 Wycliffe appeared at Lambeth, and alone, before a synod; but though alone, the support outside was great and significant, for crowds were assembled to proclaim their zeal for him and for his doctrine. The situation was not a pleasant one for the ecclesiastics; and while they pondered. Sir Lewis Clifford entered, and, in the name of the queen-mother, forbade them to pronounce any definite sentence. The pliable synod discreetly, not to say timidly, succumbed, after receiving a statement and explanation from the reformer, and bidding him to abstain from teaching such doctrines. It was a narrow escape, but it was a decided one, for although the clergy expressed their disapproval, they could not proceed to deal with the liberty and life of Wycliffe as they desired to do. Nor must we omit to observe that an order to be silent on certain topics supplied a new reason and greater leisure for the employment of the pen. How actively and successfully the reformer wielded his literary power is known by the number and amazing diffusion of his books and doctrines at home and abroad. By his writings alone he did much to bridge over the interval between himself and Luther. It may be worth noting that the greater part of his voluminous works ''ii9^^K^ 1 ,///M///''^- . /' '^ ^^_^ ^1 iSi*""^"' A J "-■^ ""- , I3flP ~ X %m ;• ^ .Jim^ i-V ^^^mi^mm ^^^ iji Hi P ^^^^^^^^^■1^^ Jl ■ M!itt> llK: ^^K '/■ ^B BUET^^^^^^^ 1 ^^^ol^^^' ^^ T ^^^^^ V^ ir'«jflH 1 B jmi^^^B 1 Si C : •J f b "r < « ^K vMh - 1^< JM! >>>>>>>>>yj^>.-:y ^^B '/, F- ^H ^4 ^'^K 1 — ■^-^-«M«'Afe^-%5,,,j^, ^B ' JfiHi '^■^i^ -- .-iea:;^. ^M: /. ^^^^w '^^T ^^^''^j^Bt^ ^ -■ ' - ' m ) -i.iH -^•'^Z<.^5SS ^^K3|k B i^ i^iS "^B^ • -^H^^^^H^S ipp^ > /. .SiS^^H - j^S^B. ' "^w^^^^^" " ■ <- '*y^" ^ ^Ir ' H^l^g^; JOHN WYCLIFFE. 55 seem to have been written during the last eight or ten years of his life, and included the famous translation of the Scriptures out of Latin into English. The effects of this version, especially the New Testament portion of it, were very remarkable in the development of liberty of conscience. In a dangerous illness which befell Wycliffe about 1379, he being then at Oxford, it was hoped that he might be persuaded to recant. Four friars and four civilians who held office in the city were deputed to wait upon him as he lay on his sick-bed. They began with some expressions of sympathy and hope of returning health. Then they referred to the man)- injuries which the mendicant friars had received at his hands, and hinted that as death was approaching they trusted he would not conceal his penitence, but revoke all he had said against them. The sick man heard them out, and then, beckoning to his attendants to raise him in bed, and fixing his eyes upon his visitors, he exclaimed with all the energy he could command, " I shall not die, but live; and shall again declare the evil deeds of the friars." The intruders glanced confusedly at each other, and retreated in disappoint- ment and dismay. He did live, and he fulfilled his promise. The boldness of Wycliffe in assailing various doctrines and practices of the Roman Church could not be ignored; and in a convention at Oxford, consisting of twelve doctors, eight of whom were monks or begging friars, several of his opinions were condemned in his absence. The decision was brought to him while he was lecturing. He complained of the course which hc:d been taken, and challenged his opponents to refute him in fair discussion. This they did not want, and he resolved to appeal to the civil power. One consolation remained, for though he could not teach at Oxford in consequence of this decision, he could preach and write at Lutterworth. The next year Courtney, who was now Archbishop of Canterbury, convoked a synod in London to consider the new doctrines. Soon after the assembly met an earthquake occurred, and greatly alarmed many of the members, but eventually certain opinions were condemned as heretical or erroneous. Every attempt was made to give effect to this decision. The clerical party laid their complaints before the young king, Richard II., and his court, and this was at a time when political affairs were in a critical state, and when the alliance of the clergy might be useful. As a result, a proclamation was sanctioned i' 56 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. by the king and some of the lords, — the first proclamation in English history for the punishment of heresy. The document was not sanctioned by parliament, but it was more or less acted upon. Wycliffe was not abashed, and in November, 1381, he boldly laid his complaint before the king and parliament. The parliament in its turn petitioned the king to withdraw the persecuting statute. This was at Oxford, where also convocation assembled at the same time, and summoned Wycliffe to appear. He obeyed, and presented his confession of faith, but the only direct result seems to have been a further limitation of his freedom of speech. The pope, it is true, summoned him to Rome to answer for himself, but he was allowed to i^lead the state of his health as a reason for not going. During the rest of his days no great demonstration was made against him, and he quietly went on with his work in his parish until the close of 1 384, on the last day of which year he departed this life in peace. In 141 5 the Council of Constance, though very busy in condemning the wretched Pope John XXIII., found time to decree that John Wycliffe was a heretic, and that his bones should be dug up and burned. The English were not in a hurry to do so silly and spiteful a thing, but in 1428 Pope Martin V. ordered the Bishop of London to see that the sentence was executed. So the grave was opened, the bones were taken out and burned, and the ashes were thrown into tlie stream which runs near Lutterworth church. JACK CADE AND HIS INSURRECTION. The admission of burgesses to parliament at the instance of Simon de Montfort in the reign of Henry III.; the codification and just settle- ment of the laws relating to individual freedom in pleading at the courts, effected by Edward I.; and, finally, the growth of liberty by the teaching of such men as Wycliffe, who led the people to question the authority of the clerical magnates, just as Thomas a Becket had claimed the support of the popular voice in defying the demands of the nobles JACK CADE AND HIS INSURRECTION. 57 of the court, — were the influences which led to the extension of national independence. With regard to the effects of the laws established by the Great Edward, who has been rightly designated the English Justin- ian, they fitly succeeded the provisions previously made for giving the people themselves a voice — however little may have been its authority — in the legislation of the country. "From the reign of Henry III.," says Hallam, "at least the /t;^i3;/ equality of all ranks of freemen below the peerage was for every essential purpose as complete as at present. . . . What is most particular is that the peerage itself imparts no privilege except to its actual possessor. The sons of peers are commoners, and totally destitute of any legal right beyond a barren precedence." Unhappily though this was the theory of the law the tyranny of the rulers who succeeded Edward kept its practice in abeyance, while the whole nation was harassed beyond endurance; and the revenues were maintained by a brutal system of imposing and collecting the taxes which at last roused the people, and especially the peasantry, to a pitch of fury. The peasantry indeed had been gradually emerging from slavery to freedom, and the system of villeinage was dying out, not only in England but in Flanders, where many of the burghers made common cause with them; and in France, where the Jacquerie had set up a series of horrible cruelties during the attempt at insurrection, the lower classes of the population were making wild and often terrible efforts to achieve freedom from that deeraded and brutalized condition to which they had been consigned by their rulers. These causes, combined with the arbitrary tyranny with which the taxes were imposed, led, as we all know, to the insurrection that in the reign of the youthful Richard II. found its leader in Wat the Tyler. Similar conditions excited by the efforts of the nobility again to reduce the people to vassalage, produced the revolt which seventy years afterwards found its representative in Jack Cade. At that time England had begun to lose under Henry VI. all the prestige which his predecessors had gained by their conquests in France. It was proposed by the court to supplement the deficiencies of a king who was unfit to govern, by marrying him to a queen whose ambition it was to tyrannize. The council chose Margaret of Anjou, and the Earl of Suffolk gave force not only to the wish of the council but to the attempts of the queen to monopolize the whole authority of the government. Between them they ruled England, and compassed the 8 58 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. destruction of Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, and his wife Eleanor Cobham, who was tried and condemned to perpetual imprisonment on a charge of necromancy against the king. Thus they played into the hands of the French monarch, till the whole of Normandy was lost, and it seemed as though England would itself be ceded as an appanage of the crown of France. This was too much for the spirit of the English parliament, where at length the minority which had ventured to raise a cry against the despotism of the queen and her adviser grew into a majority, the com- plaints of which were echoed by a popular clamour, that was not easily silenced even by the impeachment and subsequent temporary banishment of "the queen's darling." Insurrections had broken out in several parts of the kingdom before the fall of the Duke of Suffolk, and the public discontent was augmented by the burden of taxes imposed .upon the people and the infamous extortions practised by sheriffs and their collectors. At the time when the excitement against the government was at the highest there appeared in England a man named John Cade, who was a native of Ireland, whither he had returned after having been for some time in France — either as a soldier or an outlaw, a point upon which authorities are divided. Ireland was at that time governed by the Duke of York, and when Cade appeared under the name of Mortimer at the head of an insurgent army, and claimed a descent which made him a relation (though illegitimately) of the duke, there were not wanting declarations that the latter had employed this man in order to prepare the way for him in assuming the crown. There is little if any evidence of the truth of such an accusation, but it cannot be denied that the insurrection, by weakening the government, forwarded the expectations of the duke at that time. Suffolk was dead. On the day that he was liberated, in order that he might quit England, a furious mob of 2000 persons assembled to assail him, but he contrived to*evade them and to reach his estates, whence he travelled to Ipswich, and there embarked for the Continent with his retinue. Between Dover and Calais the course of two small vessels which he had engaged was arrested by a great ship of war, and the duke was ordered to go on board. As he stepped upon the deck the captain accosted him with the words "Welcome, traitor!" F'or two days he was detained on board, and probably foresaw that he was to die, for JACK CADE AND HIS INSURRECTION, 59 .he was most of the time with his confessor. On the third day a cock- boat came alongside, and in the boat was an executioner with block and axe. Suffolk was delivered to this man, who struck off his head, and his body was discovered on the beach near Dover. No investigation was made into the circumstances of his death, at which the people rejoiced with a kind of fierce exultation that may explain the tumults that followed and those subsequent wars of the Roses which afterwards desolated England. The men of Kent had formed the most intelligent and determined contingent of Wat Tyler's followers, and their insurrectionary spirit had continued, so that they were ready to accept the chieftainship of Cade, who at once led them towards London. It was on a day in June that this irregular army of from 15,000 to 20,000 men encamped on Blackheath, whence their leader kept up communications with the dis- affected people of the metropolis. In reply to the demand of the court why this great body of men had left their homes. Cade, who seems to have been able to employ somebody to write his manifesto, issued a document entitled " The Complaint of the Commons of Kent." It began artfully enough with allusions to a report that the county of Kent was to be destroyed and made into a royal hunting ground, " for the death of the Duke of Suffolk, of which the commons were never guilty," and proceeded to set forth how justice and prosperity had been put out of the land by misgovernment; that the king was stirred to live only on the substance of the commons, while other men fattened on the lands and revenues of the crown; that the people of the realm were not paid for stuff and purveyance, forcibly taken for the king's use; that princes of the blood royal were excluded from the court and government, which were filled exclusively by mean and corrupt persons, who plundered and oppressed the people; that it was noised that the king's lands in France had been alienated and put away from the crown, and the lords and people there destroyed with untrue means of treason; that the commons of Kent had been especially over- taxed and ill-treated ; that their sheriffs and collectors had been guilty of infamous extortion; and that the free election of knights of the shire had been hindered. The court, while feigning that they were about to prepare an answer to these charges, gained time to collect troops in London, and mean- while another protest was put forth, entitled " The Requests by the 5q pictures and royal portraits. Captain of the Great Assembly in Kent," and requiring the king to resume the grants of the crown, to dismiss all the false progeny and affinity of the Duke of Suffolk, and take about his person the true lords of the royal blood, namely, the Duke of York, and the Dukes of Exeter, Buckingham, and Norfolk. It also demanded, but in respectful language, the punishment of the traitors who had contrived the death of the Duke of Gloucester and of Cardinal Beaufort, and who had promoted and caused the loss of Anjou, Maine, Normandy, and other parts of France. Some of the statements in these manifestoes were absurdly erroneous, such as that which attributed the death of the cardinal to treachery, while in fact his death, which took place when he was nearly eighty years of age, was entirely natural ; but it is evident that such documents were compiled by some one who knew how to give them deep political significance, and it Is therefore scarcely surprising that Cade's influence in the rebellion should have been attributed to the Duke of York. At any rate Cade himself can scarcely have been a mere common ruffian. He proved more than a match for his opponents as a commander, when the royal forces, having been collected, were sent out to give an answer to the rebels, not by proclamation of redress or consideration, but by cold steel. Cade then fell back upon Sevenoaks, and awaited the attack of the first detachment of the army, which he defeated. Sir Humphrey Stafford, who led them on, was killed, and It is declared that the men themselves fought reluctantly. This seems probable, for Avhen news of the defeat reached the main body of troops at Blackheath, there was some murmuring among the soldiers, that they liked not to fight against their own countrymen, who only called for a reasonable redress of grievances. The court found it best to temporise; and of course it had Its own victims ready. Lord Say, who had been accused of aiding in the loss of the French possessions, was sent to the Tower along Avith others who had been closely connected with the actions of the Duke of Suffolk. Lord Scales undertook to defend the Tower from the rebels, the army was disbanded, and the king sought a safe refuge at Kenil worth Castle. Meantime Cade was up and doing. By the end of June he had reappeared at Blackheath, and held the whole of the right bank of the Thames, from Lambeth to Greenwich. From Southwark he sent to the lord-mayor, demanding entrance into the < 'J. JACK CADE AND HIS INSURRECTION. 6 1 city of London, and after a debate in the common council this was granted. On the 3d of July the insurgents were in the streets, but Cade did his best to enforce something like discipline, forbade plunder, and controlled the license which it might have been expected would follow the entrance of a rabble army into the capital. In the evening he led his host back to Southwark, and returned on the followingf morning to demand the trial of Lord Say and Sele, who by some unexplained mesms had been made prisoner by the rebels. Of course there was but a show of justice so far as regular proceedings were concerned, for the mayor and the judges were forced to sit in the Guildhall to try him for treason. It was a mockery, and there seems to be reason to suppose that the unfortunate nobleman had been made the victim of timorous supporters of the crown, and had been suffered to fall into the hands of the rebels in order to appease them. The trial at Guildhall was of no moment, Lord Say's demand to be judged by his peers was disregarded, and he was hurried thence to the Standard at Cheapside, where Cade held a kind of rude court. There he was briefly charged with crimes set forth in an indictment which he was not permitted to answer, and his head was almost immediately afterwards severed from his body. The execution of Cromer, the sheriff of Kent, who was Say's son-in-law, followed, and then for the second time the insurgent army went quietly into Southwark to their night's quarters. On the next day some houses were pillaged, and the citizens began to rouse themselves to action. There were 1000 soldiers in the Tower with Lord Scales, and it was decided that they should muster at London Bridge and prevent the return of the insurgent army in the morning. The latter obtained intelligence of this design, and attempted to cross the bridge at night, but a large force of armed men already occupied it, and after six hours* fighting the rebels were driven back and retired to their quarters. Like all undisciplined and only half informed assemblies the great body of rebels had little cohesion, and this determined attitude of the citizens of London produced consider- able results. The execution of Lord Say had committed the insurgents to treason, and it is not unlikely that a very large proportion of them began to dread the consequences. Then was the time to try what could be done by promises of pardon and persuasions of redress, and the Arch- bishops of York and Canterbury, who were chancellor and ex-chancellor, were consulted as to a repetition of the policy which was effectual 62 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. in the case of the former rebelUon, under Wat T)'ler. Finally the Bishop of Winchester was sent to the rebels with a general pardon under the great seal for all those who returned to their homes, and a promise to the whole assembly that grievances should be inquired into and redressed. From that time there was serious division in the insurgent camp, between those who were ready to accept the pardon and the promise and those who put no faith in either. A large number of the rebels began to retire, and Cade soon afterwards professing to accept the conditions, the whole force began rapidly to disperse. Either Cade himself was doubtful, or he had lost his power of control, and was compelled to remain the nominal head of the malcontents. In two days he was back in Southwark with a vast number of armed men, who declared that they must have some security from the government for the fulfilment of its promises. They were still divided among themselves, however, and the Londoners were so united and deter- mined that they dared not venture to enter the city. They therefore again retreated to Blackheath, and thence retired to Rochester; but it was evident that there was no more probability of their agreement amongst themselves, and Cade began to fear for his own life, for he had been proclaimed a traitor, and looo marks were offered for his apprehension. It was no wonder that he began to think of his own safety amidst a mutinous and disaffected army, and that he eventually fled alone and on horseback across country. He was followed by one Alexander I den, a country esquire, who at last overtook and attacked him. After a desperate combat Cade fell beneath his opponent's sword, and I den, having cut off his head, carried it to London, where it was placed on a pole on London Bridge with the face looking towards Kent. The capture and execution of many of Cade's companions soon followed, and the insurrection was at an end; but it was declared in a subsequent bill of attainder that the object of the rebellion was to place the Duke of York on the throne, and the assumption of the name of Mortimer by Cade himself was regarded as collateral evidence that the plot had been laid with that end in view. It need scarcely be pointed out that the five scenes of Cade's rebellion and death in the second part of Shakspere's " King Henry V'l." afford an admirable text for the picture which represents the trial of Lord Say and Sele by the chief rebel and his lieutenants. It can scarcely be denied that Shakspere CAXTON AND THE ART OF PRINTING. 6^ has represented the character of Cade somewhat as it would be regarded by the Lancastrians; but the subtle pourtrayal of mingled ignorance, arrogance, shrewdness, and courage, as displayed in the address of the chief rebel to Lord Say and Sele, at once challenges our admiration. That address, as written by the great dramatist, is, it must be con- fessed, an exaggeration of the pretences for rebellion, and may be regarded as a kind of implied defence by the poet of the actual character of the condemned nobleman, as where Cade is made to say, " Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school, and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used; and contrary to the king, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill." CAXTON AND THE ART OF PRINTING. The revolution which had been effected by war, by changes of dynasties, by the partial admission of the commons to a voice in legisla- tion, was succeeded by a still mightier influencethan any of these could exert. A power had arisen before which all others were to give place. Slowly but surely the growth of intelligence and the increase of know- ledge contributed to human freedom, and to that eager desire for liberty which inevitably followed when people had learned to think for them- selves and to discard the fetters imposed by those who, while they alone possessed the means of intellectual culture, strove to fetter the consciences and control the destinies of men. The invention of printing and the gradual circulation of books opened a new era to the world ; and though the historical accuracy of Shakspere may be open to question when he makes Jack Cade accuse Lord Say of having established a paper-mill in England, it is certain that printed sheets had found their way here at a very early period after the first use of wooden types began to supersede the manuscripts which were the only books known to the learned till the middle of the fifteenth century. It is remarkable that the actual invention, — or, as it may 64 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. more properly be called, the adaptation, — of jDrinting sheets from blocks of wood containing whole sentences, cannot be distinctly traced to any one individual. The first known examples of this kind of printing in Europe consisted of playing cards, and books or sheets of pictures accompanied by texts of Scripture or verses, and intended as manuals of devotion. These early "books" came, it is believed, from Holland in the first part of the fifteenth century, and the art of printing from movable types was certainly practised not many years afterwards, but to whom this vast improvement is due, is by no means certain, while the successive processes of casting the types in metal and using a steel punch for forming the "face" or letter of the types in a matrix of copper, have been claimed for various persons living at the same period. The names of Lawrence Coster (Janszoon) of Haarlem, John Guten- berg of Strasburg, John Fust or Faust of IMainz, and Peter Schoeffer (Apilio) of Gernsheim, are those which stand most prominently in the records of the art. The probability is that Coster was one of the early Dutch block-printers; that Gutenberg first began to print from movable wooden types at Strasburg at some time between 1436 and 1442, and that having established himself at his native town of Mainz in 1445, he entered into partnership with Fust, who seems to have assisted him in his great improvement of casting types in metal. To Schoeffer, who was in the service of Gutenberg and Fust and had married Fust's daughter, is attributed the process of founding by the contrivance of the punch. The art was at first almost confined to the members of this workshop, but after the storming of Mainz by Adolphus of Nassau in 1462 the workmen were dispersed, and the practice of printing was carried to other countries. By the year 1530 there were, it is said, already 200 printing-presses in Europe. In 1474 William Caxton had established himself at Westminster. Even now it is difficult for us to regard the quiet patient work that was being carried on in a nook of the ancient abbey, as the greatest historical event of a period when civil war threatened to overwhelm the nation in a common ruin; and though books were soon so rapidly multiplied that they were not only widely disseminated in England but were exported to other countries, their influence was scarcely to be appreciated at a time when, in the midst of strife, very few men had leisure or opportunity to cultivate learning. The effect was none the less certain, however; and it may be asserted that the unsettled condition CAXTON AND THE ART OF PRINTING. 65 of the country, and the social revolutions which followed the constant vicissitudes of rulers and people, aroused a certain independence, since the contending parties were themselves obliged to conciliate the commons by granting greater freedom, even though they may have recalled their promises when the ends which they were intended to secure had been temporarily achieved. Surely no picture in English history is more remarkable than that of Caxton and his companions, during a period of fierce conflict and repeated insurrection, pursuing, in the seclusion of a quiet workshop, an art which had already begun to revolutionize the world. Caxton, who was a native of the Weald of Kent, was born about the year 1422, and had been brought up as a mercer in the city of London. He evidently became a person of some distinction, for he was afterwards appointed Governor of the English in Bruges, where he had taken up his residence along with a considerable number of our countrymen who had settled there as traders, and required a person in authority, not only to exercise control, but to maintain their privileges. Caxton was a man of wealth and of considerable learning, and during this time he occupied himself in translating the Recueil of Histories, a book the copies of which (manuscript copies, of course) fetched a good price, and were in great demand. It was probably the need for multiplying the manuscripts of this book and their comparatively slow circulation which directed the earnest attention of Caxton to the professions of one Colard Mansion, who was then endeavouring to introduce into Bruges the art of multiplying books by printing from blocks and movable types, a plan by which Fust, Gutenberg, and Schoeffer had already produced an edition of the Bible which could scarcely be distinguished from the most perfect manuscript. Caxton was ready to provide the money for a printing-office, and Mansion quickly went to work to print The Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye, the first book ever printed in English. Caxton is soon after found to have " returned to his own country and commenced business as a printer and publisher, being for certain the first who practised the typographic art in this island. He was wealthy; he had been in a high employment; it looks to us as a descent that such a man, past fifty years of age, should have gone into such a business, for certainly it was no more dignified than it is now. We can only suppose that Caxton had, all along, had strong literary tastes — had 8 66 PICTURliS AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. prudentially kept them in check while realizing an independence, and now felt at liberty to indulge his natural bent, while yet pleasing himself with the idea that he was usefully and not unprofitably occupied. Whatever his motives might be, there we find him practising typo- graphy, and also selling books in a house called the Almonry (i.e. alms distributing house) near the western door of Westminster Abbey, and this from about 1476 till 149 1, when he died about seventy years of age." So says Mr. Blades in his Life and Typography of William Caxton, but we cannot agree with him that for Caxton so to have employed himself looks like a descent, or that there is any doubt about the real nobility of the work, which was to disseminate information and infinitely multiply the means of enlightenment. It is not indeed difficult to imagine what must have been the quiet but profound gratification of the father of English printing when he read that first proof-sheet, which displayed in very clear and beautiful typography the dedication of The Game and Playe of the Chesse to the unfortunate Duke of Clarence. For it was this work which may really be regarded as the first which was printed and published by himself. Others soon followed, such as Dictes and Sayings, 1477; Chronicles of England, 1480; Mirror of the World, 148 1; Confessio Amatitis (Gower's), 1483; ^sop, 1484; King Arthur, 1485; and so on. It is probable that with his commercial education Caxton really made a regular trade of printing, and did it not without an eye to profit; and there was no reason why he should not have done so, for nearly all who then had learned to read could afford to pay for books. He made no pretence of being a great philanthropist, though surely he must have exulted in the thought of what he was instrumental in accomplishing. His simple advertisement of one of his books is quaint enough. " If it pies ony man, spirituel or temporel, to bye ony pyes (piece) of two and three Comemoracios of Salisburi vse, enpryntid after the forme of this preset lettre, whiche ben wel and truly correct, late hym come to Westmonester in to the Almonesr}'e at the reed pale, and he shall have them good chepe." Caxton's house is said to have been on the north side of the Almonry, in the spot now occupied by the entrance to the Westminster Palace Hotel. It was a three-storied house with a bold gfable, and RICHARD THE THIRD AND THE YOUNG PRINCES. 67 a gallery running along the upper story. It fell down in November, 1845, when the other dwellings in the Almonry were pulled down to make Victoria Street, and from a beam of wood which formed a portion of it was sawn material for making a chess-board and two sets of chess- men, as a fitting memorial of Caxton's first work printed in England. RICHARD THE THIRD AND THE YOUNG PRINCES. During the hundred and sixty years which preceded the Union of the Roses, nine kings reigned in England. Six of these nine kings were deposed. Five lost their lives as well as their crowns. It is evident therefore that any comparison between our ancient and our modern polity must lead to most erroneous conclusions, unless large allowance be made for the effect of that restraint which resistance and the fear of resistance constantly imposed on the Plantagenets. As our ancestors had against tyranny a most important security which we want, they might safely dispense with some securities to which we justly attach the highest importance. A nation of hardy archers and spearmen might, with small risk to its liberties, connive at some illegal acts on the part of a prince whose general administration was good, and whose throne was not defended by a single company of regular soldiers. If a popular chief raised his standard in a popular cause an irregular army could be assembled in a day. Regular army there was none. Every man had a slight tincture of soldiership, and scarcely any man more than a slight tincture. The national wealth consisted chiefly in flocks and herds, in the harvest of the year, and in the simple buildings inhabited by the people. All the furniture, the stock of shops, the machinery which could be found in the realm, was of less value than the property which some single parishes now contain. Manufactures were rude, credit was almost unknown. Society therefore recovered from the shock as soon as the actual conflict was over. The calamities of civil war were confined to the slaughter on the field of battle, and to a few subsequent executions 68 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. and confiscations. In a week the peasant was driving his team and the esquire flying his hawks over the field of Towton or of Bosworth, as if no extraordinary event had interrupted the regular course of human life. Though during the feeble reign of Henry VI, the state was torn first by factions, and at length by civil war; though Edward IV. was a prince of dissolute and imperious character; though Richard III. has generally been represented as a monster of depravity; though the exactions of Henry VII. caused great repining, it is certain that our ancestors, under those kings, were far better governed than the Belgians under Philip, surnamed the Good, or the French under that Louis who was styled the father of his people. Even while the wars of the Roses were actually raging, our country appears to have been in a happier condition than the neighbouring realms during years of profound peace." No small part of this condition must be attributed to the increased political influence which had been acquired by the commons, not only in parliament, where by the constitution they had always (in theory at least) had a voice, but because of the growth of intelligence and the expansion of commerce, which gave to the burgesses of our larger towns, and especially to the citizens of London, an importance which was of considerable weight during a changeful period. When rival claimants contested the throne it became necessary not only to secure the allegiance of the great nobles but to conciliate the people, and when the Duke of Gloucester had laid the profoundly treacherous plan by which he was able to seize the crown, he based his pretensions not only on the assertion of the illegitimacy of his brother's children, but on the assumed suffrages of the citizens of London. There can be little doubt that Richard, Duke of Gloucester, was one of the most cultivated intellects of his time, and that though he ruthlessly disregarded many primary moral claims he was favourable to education and to a liberty which, while it left him master of the realm, should defy the power of the nobles, whose claims had too long deferred the true freedom of the people. It is not a very uncommon thing to discover that an autocrat may be theoretically the head of a republic, where individual liberty is supposed to be the chief end of the oppression which is exercised by the ruler himself. We have most of us heard of that kind of arbitrary rule which is declared to be ' Macaulay. RICHARD THE THIRD AND THE YOUNG PRINCES. 69 only the necessary method for educating a people up to a point when independence will be possible for them. Richard would doubtless have expressed this view, and perhaps not altogether insincerely. The first and only act of parliament passed in his reign was also the first that was in English, and he theoretically abolished those " benevolences " or enforced loans which had been so bitterly resented by the citizens in the reign of Edward. Their proscription was in 'theory only, however, for towards the end of his reign, amidst the added execrations of the people, similar grants were forcibly demanded, the only difference being that they were not to be called " benevolences " — upon which the citizens named them " malevolences." It has been granted that Richard, when he was Duke of Gloucester, was a patron and even a promoter of learning, and amidst some obscurity which rests upon his early history, it may be assumed that he was himself a scholar. Subsequent events show him either to have been deficient in moral sense, or to have made all his actions subser- vient to a bad and unscrupulous ambition which permitted nothing to stand in the way of his attaining the crown. Some of those with whom he had to contend were themselves so little moved by moral con- siderations, that he thought it necessary, in order to achieve his ends, to be even less amenable to the demands of conscience. The Wood- villes were not only parve7ius, with little claim save that of the favouritism of Edward IV., but they appear to have been so base and designing as to have disregarded even the commoner sentiments of honour. On the death of Edward they held nearly all the chief commands, and the two young princes were in the hands of the queen's relations, from whose grasping ambition much was to be feared, while the Howards, the Stanleys, and other heads of ancient houses were bitterly opposed to them, in spite of the peace which the king had endeavoured to patch up between the rival factions. Richard was then at the head of a considerable army in the marches of Scotland, the Prince of Wales was at Ludlow Castle with his maternal uncle, the Earl of Rivers, his younger brother, was with his mother in London. When the Duke of Gloucester started to York with a retinue of 600 knights and esquires, all like himself clad in mourning suits, the strife in the council had begun. Hastings had threatened the queen; Buckingham /O PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. was almost in open rebellion. Richard, who with his followers had sworn fealty to his nephew at York, increased the number of his men- at-arms as he came southward; the queen-mother began to suspect, and Elizabeth to fear him. Lord Rivers was chareed to brino- the pnnce to London with an escort of 200 armed horsemen, and the queen attempted, against the advice of the council, to collect another army there. Both doubts and fears were justified, but Richard the arch- dissembler made the imprudence of his opponents a reason for carrying out his designs. He arrived at Northampton on the very day that his nephew was carried to Stony Stratford, only ten miles distant. Earl Rivers and Lord Gray went on behalf of the prince to greet the Duke of Gloucester. Buckingham arrived at the same time with a troop of 300 horse. The two dukes, the earl, and the lord supped together, and passed a convivial evening. The next day Gloucester and Buckingham continued the journey to Stony Stratford in company with their guests, who were, however, arrested the moment they entered the town. They were accused by Richard of estranging the affections of his nephew, and were at once secured, after which Richard and Buckingham waited on the prince, bent their knees before him, and saluted him as king. They ne.xt ordered the arrest of his two adherents. Sir Thomas Vaughan and Sir Richard Hawse, commanding the rest of his attendants to disperse, and making him in reality a prisoner under pretence of escorting him themselves. The noblemen who had been arrested were consigned to Pontefract Castle, and though Hastings assured the people of London that the two dukes were acting for the good of the realm, the queen was so alarmed that she took the Duke of York to Westminster, there to claim the right of sanctuary. Thither Rotherham, Archbishop of York and chancellor to the queen-mother, went to console her, but she was already foreboding evil, and the assurances sent by Hastings, who seems to have been partially duped by Richard, did not suffice to abate her anxiety. Hastings was more successful in the city, and the Londoners were persuaded that the queen's relations were concerned in a plot to destroy the Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham, a declaration which was supported by the exhibition to the populace of barrels filled with arms said to have been intended for the purpose. The arrival of the two dukes bringing the young king was eagerly expected as the means .< RICHARD THE THIRD AND THE YOUNG PRINCES. 7 1 of restoring tranquillity, and the chief citizens, with gowns and chains, rode out to meet the royal party as far as Hornsey Wood. Then all the party entered London, Gloucester riding bareheaded before his nephew, who was dressed in royal robes. The queen's fears were soon verified. Her son, who was at first lodged in the palace of the bishop, had little opportunity of seeing her in the sanctuary of Westminster. The council was summoned, and at the instance of Buckingham agreed to send the boy to the Tower for safety before the coronation, which was fixed for the 22d June; and on the i6th of June Richard (who was then "protector"), with the Cardinal Archbishop of Canterbury and several other prelates and lords, proceeded to Westminster to demand that the Duke of York should join his brother, as his presence would be necessary at the coronation, while his remaining in sanctuary was causing dishonour- able rumours and suspicions. Elizabeth yielded — probably from the conviction that resistance would be useless. Only three days had passed since that scene was enacted in the council chamber at the Tower, which has been so vividly represented by Shakspere. It had ended in the immediate execution of Hastings, and the imprisonment of Lord Stanley, the Archbishop of York, and the Bishop of Ely, while at the same time Earl Rivers, Lord Gray, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir Richard Hawse were beheaded at Pontefract. In the pages of the great dramatist as in the pages of history we read how through blood and by treachery Richard crept to the throne. His consummate hypocrisy was accompanied by what appears to be a kind of desperate resolution, which makes it extremely difficult to estimate his character. It is often regarded as impossible for any man to be so unscrupulously wicked, so dangerously determined, as Richard appears to have been, for the sake of an ambition which one as astute as he must have seen would work destruction to its subject. The contradictions in Richard's character have, indeed, led some keen investigators to vindicate it from many of the charges by which it has been brought into detestation. " If Richard," says one of these critics, "was a hypocrite and a dissembler, he certainly was a very poor proficient in his art, for an impetuous rashness and imprudence of conduct, and an impatience of difficulties which made him always cut the gordian knot instead of attempting to unloose it, appear to be his real characteristics. Under these influences he was always either 72 PICTURES ANU RUYAL PORTRAITS. too violent or too generous. It seemed as if he restrained his nervous excitability and concealed under it a smiling face, just long enough to give the uncomfortable impression of a deep and designing nature, and then gave vent to it on some momentary occasion with the excess and abandoti of a man who took no thought before he acted. It was as if his judgment was not well balanced enough for any medium between blind confidence and blind violence. His brother Edward's mind, even when seemingly palsied by sensual indulgence, was always clear, healthy, and active; that of Richard was perplexed, morbid, and restless. He gave an impression of violence and irregularity far beyond the natural import of his actions. There was scarcely a public man then alive who might not (as far as his moral character is concerned) have committed most of the acts of cruelty attributed to Richard ; but by his mode of action he gave to them a character of exceptional atrocity which goes far beyond the actual fact. And so men came to attribute to him a natural and systematic cruelty that was really alien to Richard's nature, which was quite as much addicted to an excess of compassion and generosity as to anything in the opposite direction. He was accordingly credited with nearly all the suspicious deaths of the period, of several of which he was certainly innocent." This is an example of the conclusions of the apologists for a king who, perhaps without strict justice, holds nearly the most infamous place in English history. It cannot be forgotten that he was, as the young Duke of Gloucester, somewhat a popular favourite, and remarkable for many of the qualities which are regarded as belong- ing to a noble character. But on the other hand, public opinion was changed by his actions, and though we may greatly owe our impres- sions of Richard III. and the combined treachery and cruelty which characterized his career to the great tragedy of Shakspere, it must not be forgotten that Shakspere reflects the general opinion. It is argued by the apologist that young Edward, the son of Henry VI., was killed in battle, calling out to Clarence, his brother-in-law, who was in the opposite ranks, and that Richard had nothing to do with the event; that Henry VI. died while Richard (who was then only eighteen) was in the Tower, and that there is nothing whatever to connect Richard with the deed, especially as the queen and family of Edward were also in the same place; Clarence's death was due to the family of the Woodvilles; and the executions ordered by THE TUDOR. 73 Richard were actuated by alarm and resentment consequent on the discovery of the plots of the Woodvilles and of Hastings. All this may be allowed to have weight, but the fact remains that Richard acted throughout with a duplicity and relentless ambition, which, however we may seek to explain it, appears to make his conduct a striking example of the evils committed by rulers at a period when men rose to power by battle, murder, and unscrupulous dissimulation. Curiously enough, the popular notion of Richard's personal appear- ance — a notion for which there is some historical foundation — has also been combated. There can be little doubt, however, that though he may not have been positively hunchbacked, he was subject to some defor- mity, which did not remarkably affect his activity or warlike prowess. At the same time the descriptions of his melancholy troubled visage and his habit of gnawing his lip are consistent even with the character attributed to him by his defenders. Perhaps the most remarkable evidence produced against his ill-favouredness is that of the old Countess of Desmond, who, it is declared, lived to be 140 years old, and died in 1604. The tradition says that the countess had in her youth danced in the court of Edward IV. with the Duke of Gloucester, of whom she affirmed that he was the handsomest man in the room except his brother Edward. THE TUDOR. Henry the Seventh was less than thirty years old when the victory at Bosworth placed him on the English throne. Born in 1457, after the death of his father, Edmund Tudor, and when his mother, Margaret Beaufort, was yet a girl of fourteen years of age, his early life was passed under conditions little calculated to stamp him with the nation- ality of the people whom he came to rule. Neither by birth nor training was he truly English. His grandfather, Owen Tudor, was a Welshman; his grandmother was Catherine of France, the widow of Henry V., so that his father Edmund Tudor was of course half- 10 74 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. brother to Henry VI. It was not by that relationship alone that he claimed succession to the crown; nor was it because of his descent from the house of Lancaster, on his mother's side, though she was the daughter of John, first Duke of Somerset, who was himself the grandson of John of Gaunt. His mother was still living. After her first widowhood she had married Sir Henry Stafford; on becoming a widow a second time she accepted the hand of Lord Stanley. She had no other children; but failing more leeitimate successors of the house of Lancaster — of whom there were, doubtless, some in exile — she had a claim to the throne before her son Henry, to whom, however, she devoted all her talents and influence, especially to bring about his marriage with Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of Edward IV., and so to unite the interests of York and Lancaster — to blend the red and white rose. Henry himself felt how all three claims might fail to afford an unquestionable right to the crown, and took care to add to " his just tide of inheritance," the " sure judgment of God, who had given him the victory over his enemy in the field." The date of the battle of Bosworth was fixed on as that of his accession, but it was the eve of the battle, and while Richard the Third still wore the crown. This remarkable antedating by a few hours had the effect of enabling him to treat as treasonable, acts which would have been no treason if he had not been king. This shifty policy of relying at the same time on hereditary right, on the right of conquest, and on the claim by marriage, was in some degree illustrative of Henry's character. It had a curious result when the first parliament was called, a week after his coronation. A number of the members of the new House of Commons had been attainted by Edward IV. and Richard HI. for their treasonable adherence to the house of Lancaster, and more than that, Henry himself had been attainted. He would have carried the matter with a high hand, but even then there was a certain unalterable regard for constitutional law which led the Commons to doubt whether their house was capable of sitting, and to refuse to assemble till the question had been decided by the whole body of judges. Their decision was that members could not take their seats till the judgment of attainder was reversed. In the case of the king, the fact of his having succeeded to the crown was itself a reversal not only of attainder but of defects in claim by inheritance. THE TUDOR. 75 Of course he quickly repealed all the acts which had been in force against the house of Lancaster, so far as they affected himself or his succession. The act of settlement ordained that the inheritance of the crown should remain in him and his heirs perpetually, and though his marriage with the Princess Elizabeth really confirmed his claims to the crown and gave him a title which only this union of the two houses of York and Lancaster induced the nation patiently to concede, he afterwards obtained by a subtle stroke of policy a still more stringent confirmation of his personal ambition to be regarded as the sole heir to the throne. On the i8th of January, i486, Henry complied with the plainly expressed petition of the Commons that he would " take to wife and consort the Princess Elizabeth." A papal dispensation granted by the legate in England had been necessary because of the relationship between the bride and bridegroom. Henry, with the craft which distin- guished him, made use of this opportunity to obtain a second special dispensation from the pope himself, and to include in it clauses which should give the authority of the church to the royal claims of succession. Innocent VII L recognized the power which England might again attain now that civil wars had ceased to devastate the country, and the important document arrived with every particular confirmed by his authority. It was more than a dispensation to satisfy religious scruples of king and subjects, it was a declaration of royal rights by an authority which would scarcely be questioned — rights incompatible if not contradictory; for they began with that of conquest, and included those of notorious and indisputable succession, of election by prelates, lords, and commons of the realm, and of act of settlement passed by the three estates of the realm in parliament assembled. The king, it was represented, had consented to marry Elizabeth at the request of parliament, and to put an end to the claims of the house of York; therefore the dispensation was granted. There was more than the mere document itself, however. The pontiff not only gave authority to this bull, but as an essential part of it, confirmed the act of settlement to which it referred, so as to define and unalterably fix the meaning of that act of the English parliament, pronouncing sentence of excommunication against anybody who should otherwise represent its meaning. That meaning was declared to be 76 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. that if the queen should die before the king and without issue, or if her children should die before their father, the children of Henry by any subsequent marriage should be heirs to the crown. It is to be assumed that the knowledge of the value of such a binding decision in preventing the recurrence of those conflicts which had for so long devastated the country, gained the acceptance of parliament and people to this interpretation. From the very commencement of his appearance in England Henry exhibited both sides of a character which united some of the subtle statecraft and cunning of Henry I. with a certain bright frankness of demeanour and activity of social intercourse which enabled him rapidly to assimilate himself to English manners and English modes of thought. He could even be profuse when occasion demanded, though he loved money and was loath to part with it on ordinary occasions. It should be remembered that he had passed an early life of poverty, and perhaps had learned to value money by noting how much it would buy in emergencies, when empty coffers meant failure or disgrace. He could chaffer and haggle about the dower and the plate of the Princess Catherine of Aragon when she came to wed his son, but he could display magnificence at the wedding. He was ready enough to receive from the Commons a grant of " tonnage and poundage," on almost express condition that he should marry the Princess Elizabeth, — but he spent large sums on the subsequent royal progress, reduced the town rents of the disaffected city of York from £i6o to ;i^i8, 5.^., ordered pageants, held sumptuous feasts, and distributed money among the people, who welcomed his " sweet and well-favoured face." That face was itself not of the national type. Pedro de Ayala, the Spanish envoy, and an acute judge of men, told Fernando that there was nothing "purely English" in the English king; and there was certainly a want of that robust appearance which was the eminent characteristic of Henry VIII. For many years Henry VII. was liable to the results of that sickliness of constitution which is so often followed by consumption ; but he seemed able to live in such a way as to over- come this tendency, and his naturally cheerful disposition probably had much to do with this reserve of force. Lean and spare of build, but of middle height, his fair complexion, bright humorous gray eyes, and rather thin fine hair gave him a delicate appearance, but his face FROM TH£ PICTURE IN IHi; HIW PAUICE Or WISTMINSTER. uALA.r A aOH,LOXZ>OK,GIJiSOOW- Ji K.-);nuuK0M THE TUDOR. 77 bore a smile, his whole bearing was attractive and engaging, and his expression full of vivacity. The first fourteen years of his life had been passed in Wales, where he imbibed an admiration which was little less than a passionate belief in the legends of the bards, and especially in those that related to Arthur and his knights. It is by no means certain that in his first son, Prince Arthur, he did not hope to revive those chivalric institutions, and that romantic and poetical influence which he believed to belong to perfect knighthood, for there was a certain half-concealed dreamy mysticism about the character of Henry which some modern students of history believe to be a key to many of the actions which apparently contradicted the more practical and matter-of-fact side of his disposition. The second fourteen years of his life were passed in Brittany or in France. In Brittany he had been constantly in danger of being delivered over to Edward IV. or to Richard, but the Count of Brittany was a man of honour, and kept his trust. In France he learned some- thing of that subtle diplomacy of which Louis XI. was so distinguished a master, that, had he lived, the French monarchy might have absorbed half Europe, and was already the great rival of the growing influence of Spain and the astute Ferdinand. England, so long torn by civil wars, had been regarded as of little importance as an ally by foreign powers, and the King of Spain sought an imperial alliance to strengthen him against France. Both France and Spain undervalued the power of England, and had not yet learned that Henry was even more than a match for Ferdinand. In Italy a truer estimate of England and the English king had been adopted, and Henry's great talent as a cunning statesman was recognized by the papal power. His chief object was to avoid the war with France into which Ferdinand afterwards endeavoured to force him, and to achieve an alliance with Spain to be afterwards cemented by the marriage of Prince Arthur and the Princess Catherine of Aragon. He effected both, although he had to make a pretence of French invasion. At a period of the year when no commander would have prepared for laying siege to a garrison — that is to say, in the month of October — and just before any efficient force would have been thinking of retiring to winter quarters, he sailed for Calais, with a great and splendidly equipped army of 25,000 foot and 1600 horse. Everybody in the king's •jS PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. confidence knew that he never meant to commence hostlHties. The French king, Charles VIII., and his counsellors knew it also, for no opposition was offered, though Henry marched his troops from Calais to Boulogne. It ended in the signature of a treaty of peace and alliance, which was to last for the lives of the two kings, and for one year after the survivor. The treaty was ratified, and Charles was to pay to Henry ^149,000 by instalments. This pretended war, which was undertaken on a hypocritical as- sumption of surprise at the treachery of Charles VIII. in forcing the orphan Countess Anne of Brittany into a marriage with himself, that he might seize the province which he coveted, filled Henry's treasury. The sum of ^124,000 was paid to him as a discharge of his claims on Anne of Brittany, for whom he professed to take the field, and ;^25,ooo as the overdue payment of the tribute owing from France to Edward IV. It was a splendid stroke of policy, but it had been likely to cost England dear. The country was murmuring everywhere at the heavy subsidies raised for this bloodless war so soon after the people had been heavily taxed, and the many knights and nobles being ready for war, and believing that the campaign was to be a genuine one, were ready to sell or mortgage their estates in order to join the army, thinking probably that they would be able to indemnify themselves by taking possession of land in France. Every facility was given for them to ruin themselves, by bearing the expenses of an expedition from which they were to receive neither riches nor honour. An act was passed by which they could alienate their estates without paying the usual fees or fines, and they plunged into poverty with fatal facility. Can it be wondered at when Henry had declared in parliament that he was determined to make war against Charles of France as a disturber of Christendom, and that he meant to take the French crown for himself as his rightful inheritance ? The result was that he sold his friends, and took a heavy bribe from his supposed enemies. " But the truth is," says Bacon, " this peace was welcome to both kings. To Charles, for that it assured unto him the possession of Brittany, and freed the enterprise of Naples; to Henry, for that it filled his cofiers, and that he foresaw, at that time, a storm of inward troubles coming upon him, which presently after broke forth." The foremost of these inward troubles was the death of the young Prince Arthur, heir to the crown, soon after his marriage with the THE GREAT HARRY. 79 Princess Catharine of Aragon, a union which was to achieve so much for England and to exhibit to Europe a court that Henry seems to have thought would revive the example of the legendary Arthur of the " Round Table," and his company of brave knights and pure dames. When this great sorrow was followed by the fading and passing away of his pious and dearly loved queen, Henry may well have begun to contemplate his own end. A constitution, never strong, but sustained by a spirit remarkable for fortitude and for cheerful and courageous foresight, was doubtless seriously impaired by private griefs, and he left to the surviving Prince Henry, not only a personal position of extreme difficulty, but a state subject to political complications, to deal with which, required both foresight and determination. THE GREAT HARRY. Few studies are more difficult than that of the history of England in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It is necessary to consider occurrences in relation to many events that preceded or were to follow, rather than to accept without question the opinions and declarations of those who recorded them; and it is equally necessary to learn, what were the particular circumstances which swayed each historian in his estimate of the character of the monarch, priest, or statesman who bore rule and made an indelible mark in the chronicle of the time. Yet strange to say, there appears to be but one opinion of the character of Henfy the Eighth during the early part of his long and impetuous career. Even now we are accustomed to speak of him, not without a kind of unwilling admiration, and as though he still lived. No English king seems to be more real to us. We resent the tyranny and arrogance that darkened a splendid period, the inconsequent fury that was associated with the later cruelties of statecraft, the misgoverned policy that subjugated marriage to kingcraft, and placed the headman's block behind the throne, and the axe beside the altar; but there is still something within us, by which we can understand how London citizens 8o PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. and English yeomen regarded Prince Harry of Greenwich the very example of English chivalry and youthful vigour: — that young King Harry the magnificent and accomplished monarch, who for many anxious years was a true lover and faithful husband, — a model of knighthood, of manly prowess, and even of such Christian virtues as few princes of his time displayed. At eighteen he had no peer in Europe, either for beauty, strength, or stature, certainly none for learning or for art. His fair face, golden hair, and bright blue eyes, added to a huge and stalwart frame, would have distinguished him anywhere, even if his great height had escaped notice. At every sport he was master of other men, and tired even the sinewy knights, and men-at-arms, by his endurance and vast personal strength. In wrestling or at tournament, in the chase or at the butts, — where he bent a bow that few of his archers could draw, — he approved himself a man, though he retained the freshness and the ingenuous looks of boyhood. The Venetian Pasqualigo said, " He had a round face, so very beautiful, that it would have adorned the person of a pretty woman." And Sagudino, another keen and curious envoy, who was sent by the Doge to watch events and to describe the king, said, that when he was mounted on his charger, which he rode with a perfect skill, " he was like Saint George himself." But Henry VH. was a father who took care that his children should be trained not only to arms, but to learning and to arts. Arthur, the eldest, was a pattern of grace and mental culture; but his frame was not robust, and his early death, when his widowed bride Catharine of Aragon was little more than a child, and the boy husband and wife were nearly strangers to each other, and did not even speak a common language, left to Henry of Greenwich the foremost place. He was able to sustain it by mental as well as personal prowess. That he understood and could speak and write Latin and Italian may be proved from the records of his talk, and by written letters to Erasmus, to Fran9ois, and to Marguerite of Austria. At a later date he learned to speak Castilian for Catharine's sake. A master of music, according to the testimony of Italians who were themselves proficients, he could play on the virginals and the organ, and could sing at sight. His compositions are still to be heard, anthems and church music which he conducted himself in the Royal Chapel. He could write a ballad too in quaint verse, and set it to onnop J Q b D FROM THE PICTURE IN THE NEWPALACE OF -WESTMINSTER. THE GREAT HARRY. 8l an air, that he might sing it as he lolled in the royal barge, or beneath the trees in the park. In the theology of the time he had unusual knowledge, and turned it to account in his denunciation of Luther, as well as in essays on canonical views of marriage. He was also a skilful engineer, and had a special and remarkable talent for ship- building, and making roads and bridges. Amidst all these accomplish- ments, and the many weighty cares that press upon the man who will be king in fact as well as name, he displayed a rare talent for seizing and enjoying hours of leisure, for organizing games and jousts, and giving a kind of royal splendour and artistic pageantry to common sports and popular pastimes. To all these varied gifts and rare attainments Henry united a healthy moral character and devotion to religion. Churchmen regarded him, indeed, as the fit successor to that title of " Defender of the Faith" which had been bestowed on his father. Seldom had a young man been seen who exhibited so consistent and ingenuous a delight in gay and innocent pastimes, with so genuine an aversion to vice and so deep a respect for piety. His celebrated song, " Pastance with Good Company," was held to express his opinions on the rule of life. He had composed it, and set it to music, and it may well be preserved as a good old English ditty, worthy even of a prince, who himself was essentially English. Pastance with good company I love, and shall until I die; Grudge who will, but none deny, So God be pleased, this life will I. For my pastance. Hunt, sing, and dance, My heart is set; All goodly sport To my comfort. Who shall me let? Youth will needs have dalliance. Of good or ill some pastance; Company me thinketh the best All thoughts and fantasies to digest, For idleness Is chief mistress Of vices all; Then who can say, But pass the day Is best of all? u 82 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. Company with honesty Is virtue, — and vice to flee; Company is good or ill, But evei-y man hath his free wilL The best I sue The worst eschew; My mind shall be, Virtue to use; Vice to refuse, I shall use me. It is a very terrible reflection that so promising a youth should have deteriorated into a manhood like that of the " Defender of the Faith," who became persecutor, tyrant, and extortioner, while all his social relations were profaned by cruelty, and an arbitrary temper which gives good reason for doubting his sanity. One can scarcely examine the character of Henry without coming to the conclusion, that an originally active and even sensitive conscience, perverted by selfish ambition and gross indulgence, led to a diseased self-con- sciousness. His early marriage with his brother's widow — though it was declared to be legal, because she had previously been a wife only in name — may have been afterwards regarded by him with some doubt, in spite of the dispensation which he used all his powerful influence to obtain; but it was not till Catharine had grown old, and his policy was in danger, because of there being no heir to the throne, that he repudiated it. That no heir was born to him and survived, was attributed by the opponents of the marriage to a signal divine judgment, and it is possible that Henry himself may have come so to regard it; but the history of his first acquaintance and subsequent marriage with Anne Boleyn gives little reason for the opinion that he was altogether sincere in his professions of remorse; and the fate of Anne herself, his brutal indifference to her death, and the jealous fury with which he seemed to be afterwards haunted, appear to be the result of a mind and temper overthrown by arrogance, and weakened by false counsellors and sycophants, who were in continual dread of those fits of rage, during which their own lives were in danger. It has been well observed that we cannot estimate the character of Henry VIII. without reference to his magnificent bodily organization. In the youth and prime of his life, when health was strong and every wish appeared to be within his reach, the higher and nobler features THE GREAT HARRY. 83 of his character predominated, and his truly royal presence represented a truly kingly character. When the strong physical constitution gave way, and disease and bodily incapacity superseded the health and activity of his prime, his manliness degenerated into grossness, his self-confidence and self-will into tyranny, and his boisterous tempera- ment towards brutality. The strong individuality of the king, and his exaggerated self- consciousness, gave effect to the entire government. The nation alternately gained and suffered from the alterations in the passions of its head. As long as Wolsey lived and stood at the right hand of Henry as his confidential and trusted adviser, the evils of this too great personal government were to a great extent moderated. Wolsey fell in order that the government might have in the eyes of the world but one presiding will; but the confidence withdrawn from Wolsey was never again bestowed on any minister. Thenceforward the policy was that of Henry alone, and with its intensified personality came a long train of attendant misfortunes. The fire of his will was fierce and unquenchable even by his own better instincts. The absence of a matured and thoroughly disciplined mind, often gave an appearance of inordinate and reckless passion and cruelty to what was really little else than a spasmodic attempt on the part of a strong will to escape from the consequences of its own unwise acts. With the nation the case stood thus. The people had the right and the means of resistance to his will, but they scarcely even resisted or wished to do so, till at last if they had wished they had lost the courage to act. The king had practically the power to be a tyrant, but with the nation at large he preferred being an idolized autocrat.' Considering that he was the very model of what was then regarded as manly strength, that his affability and good humour were proverbial, and that he represented to the people not only a king but a champion, it is not wonderful that he should have attained such a position. The Venetian envoys at the English court said in their reports to their own government — " His majesty is twenty-nine years old, and extremely handsome. Nature could not have done more for him. He is much handsomer than any other sovereign in Christendom, and a great deal handsomer than the King of France: very fair, and his whole frame admirably proportioned. On hearing that Francis the First wore * Sanford, Estimate of Engfish Kings. 84 PICTURES AND ROYAI- PORTRAITS. a beard, he allowed his own to grow; and as it is reddish, he has now got a beard that looks like gold. He is very accomplished; a good musician; composes well; is a most capital horseman; a fine jouster; speaks good French, Latin and Spanish; is very religious; hears three masses daily when he hunts, and sometimes five on other days. He hears the office every day in the queen's chamber, that is to say vespers and compline. He is very fond of hunting, and never takes his diversion without tiring eight or ten horses. He is extremely fond of tennis, at which game it is the prettiest thing in the world to see him play, his fair skin glowing through a shirt of the finest texture.'" Another report in 15 15 says, " His majesty is the handsomest potentate I ever set eyes on; above the usual height; with an extremely fine calf to his leg, his complexion very fair and bright, with auburn hair combed straight and short in the French fashion: and a round face so very beautiful, that it would become a pretty woman, his throat being rather long and thick." Sagudino describes a joust at which he was present, in which the king took part. There were ten knights on each side, very well mounted, and the horses being all richly caparisoned, several of them in cloth of gold. " Then they began to joust, and continued this sport for three hours, to the constant sound of trumpets and drums, the king excelling all the others, shivering many lances, and unhorsing one of his opponents." These are the portraits of Henry in his youth, and before the dark times when, heavy of body and brutalized in temper and disposition, he had begun to think of consoling his widowhood after the death of Jane Seymour — by making an offer to Anne of Cleves. Holbein was despatched to the court of the duke to paint a portrait of the lady, so that we are not totally unfamiliar with her features. The picture came to Henry in an ivory box, which represented a rose so delicately carved as to be said to be worthy of the jewel it contained. Unhappily either the ivory box and the setting captivated the king, and gave a fictitious beauty to the portrait, or the painter had deceived him, or the original was not to the taste of so inconstant an admirer; who, when he saw his consort at Rochester, whither he had gone to meet her, was so bitterly disappointed that he scarcely stayed to give her greeting. Furious with the ambassadors, and still more so with Cromwell, who without knowing the lady had promoted the ' Giiistinian. RELICS ASSOCIATED WITH HENRY VHI. 1. Miniature of Anne of Cleves. painted by Holbein. 2. Lid of the Ivory Box containing the miniature of Anne of Cleves 3. Lid of the Ivory Box containing the miniature of Henn.' VIII. by Holbein. 4. Miniature of Hcnr^' VIII.. painted by Holbein. 5. Rosary, exquisitely carved in boxwood. On the beads are subjects from the creed. figures of the Apostles, Prophets, &c. In the possession of the Duke of Devonshire. 6. Cup of Silver, gilt, presented by Henry VIII. to the Barber Surgeons Company of London. 7. Sword, the hilt of crystals moimtcd in Silver. This Sword was given (as also a cap of maintenance) with great pomp. May 19th, 1514, by I'ope Julius II. to Henry VIII. in St. Paul's Cathedral. It is now in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. 8. Birding Piece, the lock wanting ; in the Tower of London. THE GREAT HARRY. 85 match, Henry called a council at Greenwich, and there, after abusing the minister and delicately referring to the royal bride as a "great Flanders mare," commanded Cromwell to devise some pretext or plausible cause for preventing the conclusion of the marriage. It does not appear, however, that Anne of Cleves was an ugly princess, and the king, who was himself very gross and heavy, had been expressly desirous of marrying only a fine, large woman. Perhaps Anne was on too large a scale — at all events, the fickleness of the overgrown lover was manifested by his being afterwards so quickly attracted by the little Lady Catherine Howard, who was below the ordinary stature. Anne, according to Holbein's picture, had a very fair and beautiful complexion, and a face certainly agreeable. Marillac the French ambassador, who was not prejudiced in her favour, says that she was tolerably handsome — " de beaut4 moyenne." Among the relics of the reign of the Great Harry the Holbein portraits are the most suggestive. That of Henry himself has been painted alike by artists and by ambassadors. In the words of one of the latter may be best described the magnificent dress of the king, when he was holding high state in the prime of his life and prosperity. " After passing the ranks of the bodyguard, which consisted of 300 halberdiers with silver breast-plates, who were all as big as giants, the ambassador and his followers were brought to the king. They found him standing under a canopy of cloth of gold, leaning against his gilt throne, on which lay a gold brocade cushion, with the gold sword of state. He wore a cap of crimson velvet in the French fashion, and the brim was looped up all round with lacets and gold enamelled tags. His doublet was in the Swiss fashion, striped alternately with white and crimson satin, and his hose were scarlet, and all clasped from the knee upwards. Very close round his neck he had a gold collar, from which there hung a rough diamond, the size of the largest walnut I ever saw, and to this was suspended a most beautiful and very large round pearl. His mantle was of purple velvet, lined with white satin, the sleeves open, with a train more than four Venetian yards lone. This mantle was girt in front like a gown with a thick gold cord, from which there hung large golden acorns, like those suspended from a cardinal's hat; over this mantle was a very handsome gold collar, with a pendant of St. George entirely of diamonds. Beneath the mantle 86 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. he wore a frock of cloth of gold which carried a dagger, and his fingers were one mass of jewelled rings." Such was the appearance of the Great Harry, and though we are perhaps less impressed than surprised at the gorgeous brilliant figure, it is evident that all this sheen of gold and jewels was an important, if not a necessary accompaniment of state occasions, or the writers would scarcely have dwelt on it with such admiring attention to details. SIR THOMAS MORE AND HIS DAUGHTER. Amidst the number of remarkable men associated with the historical events of the reign of Henry VIII., not one was more truly distin- guished than Sir Thomas More. His blameless life and tragic death are subjects of which few Englishmen tire to read, and the tender affection that existed between him and his noble and accomplished daughter Margaret, makes one of the most charming episodes in the story of English life and character of that period. More's father, who occupied a place on the judicial bench in the reign of Henry VII., placed his only son at a school of high repute in Threadneedle Street, London, whence the lad was received into the family of Cardinal Morton,- who was chancellor and Archbishop of Canterbury. The extraordinary talents, and probably that acute, ready, and pleasant wit for which he was afterwards famous, gained for him the notice of the distinguished visitors to the chancellor's house; so that when at the age of seventeen he went up to Oxford to study rhetoric, logic, and philosophy, in order to qualify himself for legal practice, he may already have had the prospect of that great career which began when he afterwards entered New Inn and then removed to Lincoln's Inn. At Oxford young More became acquainted with Erasmus, between whom and himself a close friendship afterwards existed, and it was there that he composed the greater number of his English poems. More was one of those rare men in whose characters are combined SIR THOMAS MORK AND HIS DAUGHTER. 87 great scholarship, brilliant wit, and earnest religious sentiments. While he was a lad at the cardinal's house, Colet, Dean of West- minster, used to say that he was the only wit in England; when he entered on legal studies he rapidly acquired great celebrity, and was soon appointed reader at Furnival's Inn, where he delivered lectures on the law for three years, and about the same time lectured at St. Lawrence's Church in Old Jewry on the subject of St. Augustin's " De Civitate Dei." He was always a student of theology, and for some time thought of entering the church, but he finally relinquished that intention, and was called to the bar. His religious opinions were strong, and his personal piety remarkable. As a Roman Catholic he practised penance and self-mortification with austerity, conforming to the practices of the charter liouse where he resided. He was an earnest upholder of the church and of the faith which he professed, so that he doubtless afterwards became associated with the persecutions inflicted on Pro- testants. Mr. Froude says, " The philosopher of the Utopia, the friend of Erasmus, whose life was of blameless beauty, whose genius was cultivated to the holiest attainable perfection, was to prove to the world that the spirit of persecution is no peculiar attribute of the pedant, the bigot, or the fanatic, but may co-exist with the fairest graces of the human character." It is doubtful, however, whether he was ever concerned in the infliction of death upon those whom he regarded as heretics, though he declared to Erasmus that he would give them all the molestation in his power. More soon obtained an extensive legal practice, and was frequently engaged by leading merchants in foreign arbitration cases, which took him to Flanders, where he made many friends. He was appointed under-sheriff of London, and so became a judge in the sheriffs' court, and his reputation was so great that he was always engaged in important trials* On becoming a burgess, and taking his seat in parliament, however, his honesty had nearly ended his career, for he opposed the attempt made by Henry VII. to raise a subsidy on the occasion of the marriaire of his daughter to the Scottish king. This so incensed the king that More had determined to leave the country, when the death of Henry VII. and the accession of Henry VIII. restored him to safety. Then followed a succession of honours and royal favours, none of which appear to have changed the simplicity and 88 PICTURES AND RUYAL I'URTRAITS. piety of More, or to have affected his love of truth and honesty. In 15 15 Henry employed him on an embassy to Bruges, and in the following year conferred on him the honour of knighthood; but More refused the offer of a pension, on the ground that, when acting as judge in any dispute between the crown and the city, he would probably be embarrassed by the knowledge that he was taking the money of one of the parties concerned. He had married Jane Colt, an Essex lady, who died, leaving a son and three daughters, one of whom married Mr. Roper, and was the chief stay and comfort of her father in his last years; though he had again married. His second wife was Alice Middleton, a widow some years older than himself. The king, who thoroughly recognized the wit and learning of More, insisted on an intimacy, which, flattering as it was, does not seem to have misled that acute observer. When, in 1520, More was made treasurer, and afterwards built his house at Chelsea, whither he removed with his children and his second wife, Henry was his frequent guest. This was after the treasurer had received new honours, and when he had also become a constant visitor to the king, who was doubtless glad to avail himself of his favourite's wit and learning in composing the book which was to help to bring him the title of " Defender of the Faith." Walking in the garden by the Thames, Henry would talk for an hour together with his arm over M ore's shoulder, a familiarity observed by Mr. Roper, Margaret's husband, who congratulated his father-in-law on the happy royal friendship he enjoyed. " But, son," replied the treasurer, " I may tell thee I have no cause to be proud of it; for if my head could win him a French castle, it would not fail to go." On another occasion, perhaps foreseeing the troubles that were menacing the state because of the furious self-will of the king, he said, " On condition that three things were well established in Christendom, I would to our Lord, son Roper, that I were here put into a sack, and presently thrown into the Thames," — these three things he explained to be "peace among Christian princes, uniformity in religion, and the settlement of the dispute about the king's marriage." He preferred the love of his family, and the quiet pleasures of his own household, to the royal favour and the life of a court. When he consented to undertake affairs of state, he yielded only to the urgent SIR THOMAS MORE AND HIS DAUGHTER. 89 requests of the king, who, when More had succeeded Wolsey as lord- chancellor, commanded the Duke of Norfolk to commend him to the "people there with great applause and joy gathered together" — " for his admirable wisdome, integritie, and innocencie, joined with most pleasant facilitie of witt." This character was not too flattering. More filled his high ofiice with a wisdom and unspotted integrity which were a noble example, at the same time that he was easy, courteous, and graceful. On one occasion when a woman sought to bribe him, by presenting him with a valuable cup, he ordered his butler to fill it with wine, and having drunk her health returned it; and when another presented him with a pair of gloves containing forty pounds, he accepted the gloves and returned the gold, declaring that he " preferred gloves without lining." When Henry determined to marry Anne Boleyn, and to be divorced from Catherine, no persuasion could induce More to give his approval. He remained neutral, and resigned his office of chancellor, after having held it for two years and five months. From that time the king, whose resentment was furious against all who opposed him, determined on either overbearing- or ruininsf his former favourite. More was included in the charge of favouring the " prophecies of Elizabeth Barton," the maid of Kent, who, from general foretelling of events which did not happen, had been induced by some of the priestly party to denounce the divorce from Catherine. A number of innocent persons whom it was desired to get rid of were included in a bill of attainder for upholding this pretender, and More was one of them, but his innocence was so obvious that his name was afterwards removed, and he was required only to take an oath to maintain a statute passed in 1533-34, which made it high treason by writing, print, deed, or act, to do anything to the prejudice of the king's lawful matrimony with Queen Anne. More declined to take the oath, but offered to swear that he would maintain the order of succession as established by parliament, for the exclusion of the Princess Mary from the throne. He was therefore attainted of misprision of treason, and was conveyed to the Tower. He had already given up his preferments, obtained places for his servants, retired from his home at Chelsea, and had become so poor that there was little to take from him but his life. For thirteen months he remained in prison, and neither the urgent reasoning of his friends, 12 go I'ICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. nor appeals on behalf of his family, could induce him to act in opposition to his convictions. Dear Margaret was distracted; when he had remained about a month's space in the Tower, she, longing to see her father, made most earnest suit, and at last got leave to go to him. At which coming, after they had said together the Seven Psalms, and Litanies, among other speeches he said, " I believe Mag, who have put me here think they have done me a high displeasure; but I assure them on my faith, mine own good daughter, that if it had not been for my wife and you, and my children, I would not have failed to have closed myself in a straiter room than this; nor since I am come hither without my own desert, I trust God will discharge me of my care, and with his gracious help supply the want of my presence to you," and much more he said of gratitude that he should be counted worthy to follow in the army of martyrs. She plied him with family reasons for concession, but he replied patiently but firmly in the negative. Once after questions about the home people, he asked how Queen Anne did. "In faith, father, never better," said she; "there is nothing in the court but sporting and dancing." "Never better!" he replied; "alas! Mag, alas! it pitieth me to remember into what misery, poor soul! she will shortly come. These dances of hers will prove such dances that she will spurn our heads off like footballs, but it will not be long ere her head will dance the like dances." Fisher, the aged bishop, the friend of the king, the supporter of learning, was already dead on the same charge. While he lay in the Tower a cardinal's hat was sent to him from Rome. " Ha!" exclaimed Henry, " Paul may send him the hat, I will take care that he have never a head to wear it on." He kept his word. On the 2 2d day of June, 1535, the old prelate was dragged from the Tower, his gray head severed from his body and stuck upon London Bridge, whence it seemed to look towards the Kentish hills. His body was exposed naked to the populace, and then placed in a humble grave in Barking churchyard, without coffin or shroud. More was soon to follow. They had taken away his books — had refused him pen and ink and paper. On some scraps of paper, perhaps flung in his way by some relenting gaoler, he wrote with a piece of charcoal his last letter to his beloved Margaret. Nothing SIR THOMAS MORE AND HIS DAUGHTER. 9I availed him. " I am the king's true, faithful subject, and daily beads- man," he had written while he had the means of writing. " I pray for his highness, and all his and all the realm. I do nothing harm, I say no harm, I think none harm, and wish everybody good; and if this be not enough to keep a man alive, in good faith I long not to live. I am dying already, and since I came here have been divers times in the case that I thought to die within one hour. And, I thank our Lord, I was never sorry for it, but rather sorry when I saw the pang past; and therefore my poor body is at the king's pleasure. Would to God my death might do him good!" After a year's imprisonment, he was led out of the Tower to be tried at Westminster Hall for high treason. There he stood calm and undaunted, his hair white, his face pale and emaciated, his dress a coarse woollen gown; his strength so reduced that he had to support himself on a long staff. His judges feared his uprightness and eloquence. The indictment was long and wordy: even then he might obtain pardon by doing the king's will. This he refused, and in his defence showed that there was no foundation for that of which he was accused. Rich, the infamous solicitor-general, deposed that More had said in a private conversation : " The parliament cannot make the king head of the church, because it is a civil tribunal without authority in spiritual matters." More denied the accusation, and remarked upon the character of his accuser. Two witnesses brougfht to substantiate the charge declared, that though they were in the room they did not pay attention to what was said. At last it was declared, though More had remained silent on the matters demanded of him — that silence was treason— and he was sentenced to death. When this doom was pronounced he rose to address the court. Twice he was interrupted, but the third time obtained a hearing, when he told them that what he had hitherto concealed he would now proclaim. The oath of supremacy was entirely unlawful. He regretted to differ from the noble lords whom he saw on the bench, but his conscience would not permit him to do otherwise. He declared that he had no animosity against them, and that he hoped that even as St. Paul was present and consented to the death of Stephen, and yet was afterwards a companion saint in heaven, so they and he should all meet together hereafter. " And so," he concluded, " may God preserve you all, and "especially my lord the king, and send him good counsel!" 92 I'ICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. As he moved from the bar, his son rushed through the hall, fell upon his knees, and begged his blessing. With the axe turned towards him he walked back to the Tower, amid the great wonderment and commiseration of the citizens. On reaching the Tower-wharf his dear daughter, Margaret Roper, forced her way through the officers and halberdiers that surrounded him, clasped him round the neck, and sobbed aloud. Sir Thomas consoled her, and she collected sufficient power to bid him farewell for ever; but as her father moved on she again rushed through the crowd, and threw herself upon his neck. Here the weakness of nature overcame him, and he wept as he repeated his blessing and his Christian consolation. The people wept too, and his guards were so much affected that they could hardly summon up resolution to separate the father and daughter. After this trial the bitterness of death was past. The old man's wit flashed brightly in his last moments. When told that the king had mercifully commuted the hanging, drawing, and quartering into simple decapitation, he said, " God preserve all my friends from such royal favours!" This happy vein accompanied him to the very scaffold. The framework was weak, and some fears were expressed lest the scaffold might break down. " Mr. Lieutenant," said More, " see me safe up, and for my coming down let me shift for myself." The executioner as usual asked forgiveness. " Friend," said More, " thou wilt render me to-day the greatest service in the power of man; but my neck is very short, take heed, therefore, that thou strike not awry, for the sake of the credit of thy profession." He was not permitted to address the spectators, but he ventured to declare that he died a faithful subject and a true Catholic. After prayers said, he placed his head upon the block, but he bade the headsman hold his hand until he removed his beard, saying with a smile, " My beard has never committed any treason." Then the blow fell, and the neck was severed at once. The body of Sir Thomas More was first interred in St. Peter's Church, in the Tower, and afterwards in Chelsea Church; but his head was stuck on a pole, and placed on London Bridge, where it remained fourteen days. His eldest and favourite daughter, Margaret Roper, much grieved and shocked at this exposure of her father's head, determined if possible to gain possession of it. She succeeded, and according to Aubrey, in a very remarkable manner. " One day," says he, " as she was passing under the bridge, looking on her father's head, THE BUY KING EDWARD VI. 93 she exclaimed, 'That head has lain many a time on my lap, would to God it would fall into my lap as I pass under!' She had her wish, and it did fall into her lap." Improbable as this incident may appear, it is not unlikely that it really occurred. For having tried in vain to gain possession of the head by open and direct means, she bribed or persuaded one of the bridge-keepers to throw it over the bridge, as if to make room for another, just when he should see her passing in a boat beneath. And she doubtless made the above exclamation to her boatmen, to prevent the suspicion of a concerted scheme between her and the bridge-keeper. However some of these particulars may be questioned, it appears certain that Margaret Roper gained possession of her father's head by some such means, for when summoned before the council for having it in her custody, she boldly declared that " her father's head should not be food for fishes." For this she was imprisoned, but was soon liberated and allowed to retain her father's head, which she had inclosed in a leaden box, and preserved it with the tenderest devotion. She died in 1544, aged 36, and was buried in the Roper vault, in St. Dun- stan's Church, Canterbury; and, according to her own desire, her father's head was placed in her coffin. But subsequently, for some cause not now known, it was removed from its leaden case, and deposited in a small niche in the wall of the vault, with an iron grating before it, where it now remains in the condition of a fleshless skull. THE BOY KING— EDWARD VI. Surely there are few royal personages whose history is alike as brief and as painful as that of the son of the Great Harry. Even when we have been accustomed to regard with admiration the religious character and the royal charity of the young King Edward \T., we lament his restricted, almost joyless childhood, his sickness, and early death. But when we estimate the conditions of his mental train- ing and disposition, and note the results in a character which could 94 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. apparently regard with something like apathy the execution of both the uncles who had striven to become his guardians, we are compelled to the conclusion that, even though the crown passed from the pious boy king to his half sister, the dark and fanatic Mary, his early death was better for the nation than that it should have had a ruler with such a character, hardened, and narrowed, and self-concentrated. It must not be forgotten, however, that the shadows of the axe and the block, which had so long rested on the state during the latter part of Henry's reign, still loomed darkly over the land. He had made them the instruments for the gratification of revenge or the removal of those w^ho stood between him and arbitrary rule; they were now adopted as the means of enabling successive parties to rise to power by the destruction of their opponents, while the stake seldom lacked victims who were to be burned in the interest of religion. Edward VI. seems to have given the whole force of his char- acter to sustain his religious convictions. We look almost in vain for any youthful warmth of affection, and even what may be regarded as natural tenderness of sentiment had been little developed in his dis- position. Who can wonder at this when it is remembered that he had lived a childhood of seclusion, during which his studies had been of a formal nature, only occasionally relieved by recreations which were permitted by his tutors or governesses. Just as Henry VIII. Avas a man with the ill-regulated and turbulent passions and vagaries of a boy, Edward, while a mere infant, was exhibiting the demure precision and self-consciousness of a narrow character. Of course he was little more than a royal puppet in the hands of his uncle Somerset, who had become king in all except the name. At the same time Cranmer was ever ready to induce him to give royal authority to the severities which had been ordained for the promotion of the Protestant cause; and Thomas Seymour, by his bold intrigues, was endeavouring at once to ingratiate himself with his nephew, and to gain such a position as would make him the arbiter of the crown in case of that early death of Edward of which warnings had not been wanting. For the physical constitution of Edward VI. was not such as to bear the educational forcing process to which he had been subjected. The Milanese physician, Cardano, who visited England in the last year of the reign, fancied he saw a look in Edward's face which foretold an early death. From him we learn that the young king in stature was THE BOY KING EDWARD VI. 95 below the usual size; his complexion was fair, his eyes gray, his gesture and general aspect sedate and becoming. Indeed, Edward seems to have possessed much of the Tudor dignity, and not unfrequently arose to the self-assertion which characterized his family; but it was only in relation to his strong religious convictions that he thus assumed an authority of which ordinarily he had but the shadow. It was the policy of those who ruled the state as his governors to put him forward on all important occasions with a semblance of power, that he might appear to aid their policy. In this they were mostly successful; but whenever on religious subjects they sought to defend an illogical conclusion, or to temporize with what he regarded as an inevitable truth, they found that the boy who had been trained to an intellectual coldness of temperament could be obstinate and almost impetuous. Thus he was continually opposed to the exercise of the Romish rites by his sister Mary, even though he had as much regard for his sisters as it was in his nature to cherish. He had been so carefully trained in Protestant opinions, and was so convinced that it was sin to allow idolatry in the land, that the council, when the emperor threatened war unless Mary's religion Avas respected, found it very difficult to persuade their royal pupil to acquiesce in their polite subterfuges. Dudley, Earl of War^vick, had suggested a reference of the question to the Bishops Cranmer, Ridley, and Poynet. The bishops asked, " If war was inevitable if the king should persist ?" Being told there was no hope of escaping it, they begged for a night to consider their answer. On the following morning they gave an opinion as the result of their deliberation, that "although to give license to sin was sin, yet if all haste possible was observed, to suffer and wink at it for a time mio-ht & be borne." The king was then called in, and the result of the reference to the bishops submitted to him. "Are these things so, my lords?" said Edward, turning to them ; " is it lawful by Scripture to sanction idolatry?" "There were good kings in Scripture, your majesty," they replied, " who allowed the hill altars, and yet were called good." " We follow the example of good men," the boy answered, " when they have done well. We do not follow them in evil. David was good, but David seduced Bathsheba and murdered Uriah. We are not to imitate David in such deeds as these. Is there no better Scripture?" The bishops could think of none. " I am sorry for the realm then," 96 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. said Edward; "and sorry for the danger that will come of it. I shall hope and pray for something better, but the evil thing I will not allow." The council, however, seem to have persuaded him to content himself for the present with punishing all who attended the princess' mass, except herself, and meanwhile delajed a positive answer to the emperor till they had secured an alliance with France, which enabled them to set him at defiance. It seems possible that the morbid condition of the mind of Henry VIII., and even some of the mental tendencies of Henry VII., were shown in the character of Edward. What was probably a strict con- scientiousness took the form of an intellectual or logical process, and led him to false conclusions, first, because he was too young to grasp many of the subjects to which his attention had been strained; and secondly, because his disposition, aided by the system of his instructors, had led him to disregard the teachings of the heart, and indeed all personal considerations, for the sake of what he deemed to be con- sistent logical conclusions. When to this characteristic was added the formal etiquette with which his governors caused him to be treated, and the self-consequence which was the substitute they offered him in place of authority, we may wonder that he exhibited even such amiable traits as he really pos- sessed. No one was permitted to address him, not even his sisters, without kneeling to him. " I have seen," says Ubaldini, " the Princess Elizabeth drop on one knee five times before her brother ere she took her place." At dinner, if either of his sisters were permitted to eat with him, she sat on a stool and cushion at a distance beyond the limits of the royal dais. Even the lords and gentlemen who brought in the dishes before dinner knelt down before they placed them on the table — a custom which shocked the French ambassador and his suite, for in France the office was confined to pages, who bowed only, and did not kneel. Fuller tells us how the young king, speaking of his tutors, used to say that " Randolph, the German, spoke honestly. Sir John Cheke talked seriously, Dr. Coxe solidly, and Sir Anthony Cooke weighingly" — an estimate which gives us a rather melancholy impression of a boy's mind, and is wonderfully in accordance with the subjects and treatment of those literary essays, which, like the " Discourse on the Reformation of Abuses," display a gravity and an impersonal quality of temperament ^-^^lEDWAROyM^^ Bi..' ?vE IN THE NEW PALACE OF WESTMINSTER. 'NOON. (MJUOL THE BOY KING EDWARD VI. 97 remarkable in a boy of fourteen, especially when that boy was a son of Henry VIII., and only waiting till he became of age to be actual king of England. To us, at the present day, it is sufficiently remarkable that a lad who became nominally king at ten years old, and died when he was sixteen, should actually have left, not only a diary which is a remarkable indication of his disposition, but several works showing what was his mental character.^ In those five years the royal boy was to see the overthrow of both the uncles who had striven, one to retain and the other to acquire the governorship of the realm ; and it is scarcely too much to say that he appears to have been little affected by the fate of either. When the Protector Somerset returned from Scotland, his brother, Thomas Seymour, was using every effort to wrest from him one, if not both, his high offices, and the marriage of this man with the queen-dowager had apparently given him great influence. But Somerset was the quieter and the more powerful intriguer; and when Catherine died, shortly after- wards, though there was an appearance of reconciliation, and Thomas Seymour was presented with fresh honours and emoluments, it became evident that one or the other must be removed. The younger brother was charged with treason, and without any proper formal trial was condemned to death. The warrant for his execution was signed by his brother and by Cranmer, and acquiesced in by Edward, apparently with a calm indifference that is almost amazing. We must remember, how- ever, that Edward was entirely under the control of the council, of which Somerset was the head while Cranmer was its most active member. When the day of adversity came to the protector, and he himself was superseded by the Earl of Warwick, who was made Duke of Northum- berland, and took his place as regent, there ensued not only a reaction on the part of the Romanists, which it required all the ability of Cranmer and a strict enforcement of existing laws to resist, but also a reaction against Somerset as the too arbitrary ruler who had exercised more than royal authority. He was first disgraced, then partially restored to favour, appar- ently by the desire of his nephew, who showed him as much kindness as it was in his nature to show, or as he was permitted by his new rulers to exercise. Probably Warwick intended to make use of the ' The Literary Remains of King Edward VI., by Mr. John Gough Nichols, in two volumes, printed for the Roxburgh Club in 1 85 7, is perhaps the best edition of his works. 13 98 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. influence of the late protector to his own advantage, for he agreed to a reconciHation, and soon afterwards his eldest son, the Lord Lisle, married the Lady Ann, one of Somerset's daughters, and the wedding was celebrated by a feast and various entertainments, at which the king was present, for in his journal he says, " there were certain gentlemen who did strive who should first take away a goose's head which was hanged alive on two cross posts." But Somerset began to take secret measures to restore his fallen fortunes. It was said that he intrigued to bring about a marriage between the king and his daughter Jane; but this at all events was frustrated by a proposal on behalf of the boy king for the hand of Elizabeth, the daughter of Henry of France, a request that was immediately accepted. It was agreed that on her attaining a certain age the alliance should be ratified, and that with a dower of 200,000 crowns (about a tenth part of the sum first asked for) she should be sent to England, as Edward notes in his journal, " at her father's charge, three months before she was twelve, sufficiently jewelled and stuffed." This was in May, 155 1, and in the following September Warwick was made Warden of the Scottish Marches. This enabled him to take measures for cutting off the retreat of Somerset should he take to open revolt and add to the insurrections which were now appearing in various parts of the country the horrors of a civil war. In the begin- ning of October Warwick was created Duke of Northumberland, his friends and dependents being also promoted to new titles. Five days afterwards Somerset was arrested on a charge of conspiracy and high treason, and committed to the Tower. He was condemned, not for treason, but for conspiring to compass the death of the leading members of the government, and was executed on the 22d of Januar)', 1552, a day or two after the festivities of Christmas, in which Edward seems to have taken a more than usually gay part, especially in the masques and entertainments given under the direction of the Lord of Misrule. It is said that " he seemed to take the trouble of his lincle somewhat heavily;" but the note in his journal merely records the tragic event thus: "The Duke of Somerset had his head cut off upon Tower Hill between eight and nine o'clock in the morning." His own end was near. A year or so afterwards he was attacked by measles and small-pox, from which he appeared to have recovered, though probably his constitution was weakened by their eftects. Later THE BOY KING EDWARD VI. 99 in the year, when heated by a game at tennis, he is said to have drunk. too freely of some 'cold liquid, and was soon after seized with a con- sumptive cough. It was evident that the young king was dying. Northumberland induced him to execute a will which excluded Mary from the throne on the plea that she had been so excluded by the edict of Henry, but really because of her anti- Protestant religion. This determined the succession in favour of Lady Jane Grey, who as daughter of the Duchess of Suffolk, the eldest of the surviving daughters of Princess Marj', daughter of Henry VH., was after her mother and the two princesses the next in succession. She had been espoused to Northumberland's son, the Lord Guildford Dudley, and the alliance might thus be made of the utmost importance. Edward, anxious to prevent Mary from restoring the Romish faith, at once consented to the required instrument. The judges and councillors hesitated to draw up a document which altered the succession without the authority of Parliament ; but Edward strongly rebuked them, while Northumberland was furious. At last they consented, as they were supported by the friends of the regent and by Cranmer, who was at the head of the clergy. Between the discussion and his death, which occurred on the 15th July, 1553, Edward was committed to the care of a nurse who professed to be skilled in the cure of his complaint. It was afterwards declared that she hastened his death, and that the Duke of Northumberland was not dissatisfied with the result ; but this suspicion was probably only the expression of a feeling which, having already gained ground, was after- wards emphasised by one of the most tragical events of English history. MARY. It is only in recent times that a fair examination of the facts of history, and a consideration of the conditions under which Mar}- suc- ceeded to the throne, have led, if not to some vindication of her char- acter, at all events to a very considerable mitigation of the dislike and lOO PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. aversion with which she has been regarded. It should be remembered that she was treated with injustice and suspicion from her birth, that she was denied the exercise of the rehgious observances which belonged to the faith in which she had been educated, that the persecutions with which her reign was disfigured were, to some degree, retaliations which followed the severities of Cranmer and others of the Protestant leaders against Romanism and heresy. Let us remember too that during the latter part of the short reign of Edward VI. various parts of the country were in partial insurrection, — that tyrannous laws and the oppressions of rulers who were trying to supplant each other, were nearly repro- ducing civil war, to which might have been added a still fiercer conflict, in the name of liberty of opinion on both sides, but with each side ready to persecute directly its adherents obtained the mastery. It will be well in considering the history of this period, and of all periods where these religious questions are paramount, to note the fact that persecution to death is a logical deduction for any sect or " church" which, while it holds the belief that eternal salvation depends on the acceptance of certain dogmatic opinions, considers it a duty to enforce those opinions even to the death of the bodies of those who deny them, either for the possible salvation of the souls of the unbelievers themselves, by wringing from them a recantation, or in order to prevent the spread of a damning heresy. The remorseless disposition to persecute had been aroused long before, during the dark tempestuous close of Henry's reign, and it seemed to rise to a fury of cruelty and a fanaticism of destruction under the influence of his elder daughter's embittered temper, till men sickened and turned with loathing from the sight and scent of blood that pervaded the land. But the reformation of religion had been so surely advanced that the reaction in favour of Romanism was but a transient political symptom. Cranmer, whose character and conduct with regard to former friends and acknowledged foes we cannot regard with admiration, since it appears to have been actuated at once by too great subservience to his temporal superiors, and a too persistent and unscrupulous opposition to those who stood in the way of his policy, yet carried on the work of Protestantism with effect. He had seen Catharine of Aragon divorced, Anne Boleyn beheaded, Mary and Elizabeth declared to be illegiti- mate, and Edward placed on the throne. During the short reign of the boy king, the work of the Reformation ff^-m^ iS^ Iri i mr k. --^v^^ /^■'X >N j''VX\ >\ ,^ <«. ^^ r^!^5^2 f lik' NEW PALACE OP WESTMINSTER. MARY. lOI had been virtually accomplished. The visitation of dioceses was con- firmed, and laymen were joined with bishops in ordering the points of religious belief and public worship; eminent preachers of the reformed doctrines went the circuits with the visitors to expound the Scriptures, and a copy of the English Bible and of a translation of Erasmus' para- phrase on the New Testament were ordered to be in every parish church in England. The parliament from which Bonner and Gardiner, the two most able and strenuous opponents of Cranmer, were excluded, began with repealing the atrocious acts which gave royal proclamations the force of law, and abrogated the additions to the law of treason and the laws against the Lollards. The new felonies created during the reign of Henry, and every other act concerning doctrine and matter of religion, were also dealt with in the first meeting of the parliament after the return of Somerset from Scotland. The form of administering the sacrament was changed, for it was ordered that the cup should be delivered to the laity as well as to the clergy. Thus with the pro- hibition of unlicensed preaching, the removal of shrines, the seizure of the plate and jewels belonging to them for the use of the king, and the clothes that covered them for the use of the poor, the forbidding of the elevation of the host, the order that the whole service of the church should be in the English language, the publication of a catechism by Cranmer for the profit and instruction of children and young people, and the meeting of a committee of divines for the composition of a new Liturgy, the Reformation proceeded. That it was carried on with harshness and with persecutions is to be deplored, but it was an age of violence. True liberty of con- science was yet unknown, or at all events was disallowed. Though the amendments made by parliament seemed to be intended to set men free, new penalties and disabilities were pronounced against those who would not conform to the regulations. Punishments were less severe, the executions for opinions comparatively few, but a cold relentless temper characterized the proceedings of the council. The logical heartlessness which has been noticed as the result of the traininof of the young king seems to have characterized nearly all those who were in power. Perhaps the act against mendicancy which was passed at that time was one of the most barbarous measures ever devised. Edward in his journal calls it an " extreme law," and it cannot be doubted that it was I02 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. to this that many of the insurrections in various parts of the kingdom were to be attributed. This act is very remarkable as the beginning of what may be called "a poor law" in England. During the days before the Reformation it had been the practice for the various religious houses, as well as for some of the nobility of the country, to make provision for the relief of the poor, and in many places there was an open table in the baronial hall for necessitous wayfarers, and tem- porary food and shelter in the convents or the monasteries for those who were without either. Even at that time it was found necessary, in order to check these encouragements to mendicity, to proclaim laws against sturdy rogues and masterless men, and to threaten severe punishments against vagabonds and mendicants who were likely to become a serious danger to the community; but after the suppression of relig-ious houses and the diminution of that feudal state which once distinguished the nobility, the danger was likely to assume alarming proportions. The parliament thought that the occasion demanded vigorous legislation, and the result was an act which, if it could have been carried out, would have established actual slavery in England. " The act for the punishment of vagabonds and the relief of poor and impotent persons" ordained that the latter, who included the maimed and the aged, who could not be styled vagabonds, should have houses pro- vided for them, and be otherwise relieved in the places where they were born or had chiefly resided for the last three years, by the willing and charitable disposition of the parishioners. But the vast and appalling evil of mendicancy was to be met by desperate remedies. Any person found living idly or loiteringly for the space of three days, should, on being brought before a justice, be marked with a hot iron on the breast, and adjudged to be the slave for two years of the person informing against him, who " shall take the same slave, and give him bread, water or small drink, and refuse meat, and cause him to work by beating, chain- ing, or otherwise in such work and labour as he shall put him to, be it never so vile." If this slave during the two years absented himself for fourteen days without leave he was to be branded on the forehead or the ball of the cheek, and condemned to be a slave to his said master for ever. If he ran away a second time, he was to suffer death as a felon. Masters could sell, bequeath, or let out for hire the services of their slaves, " after the like sort and manner as they may do of other ' their movable goods and chattels." A master might put an iron ring MARY. 103 about the neck, arm, or leg of his slave. Justices of the peace might inquire after idle persons, brand them and convey them to the places of their birth, there to be nourished and kept in chains or otherwise at the common works in amending highways, or in servitude to private persons; and all persons who chose to do so, could seize the children of beggars and retain them as apprentices, the boys till they were twenty- four, the girls till they were twenty years of age. If they ran away during that time the master was permitted to recover them, to punish them with chains or otherwise, and to use them as slaves till their apprenticeship had expired. These then were the provisions which, while they may be said to have been the original enactments which afterwards resulted in the organization of slavery abroad and of the poor law at home, were instrumental in keeping the country in a condition of revolt. To the reaction in favour of Romanism these harsh laws must greatly have contributed, and it was at the time when both were most active that the death of Edward left the throne vacant for the princess, who took to it a religion the rites of which she had been forbidden to observe, and a sense of years of wrong and injustice inflicted on her mother and herself. Doubtless the repression to which Mary had so long been subject reacted in a kind of fanaticism, of which even her passionate regard for Philip of Spain was very largely composed. A considerable portion, if not the majority, of the country was in a state of recoil, or the unre- lenting measures which were regarded for a time as necessary or inevitable reprisals could not have been suffered. Darkness lowered over the whole kingdom, the lurid fires of per- secution burned with a flame that threatened to destroy the sincerity and the honour of public men, who could see no safety but in recan- tation, if they were Protestants, or in acquiescence with a policy which was destroying England on behalf of Spain and the pope. Yet it was the very fury and recklessness of the queen and her Romish advisers against the reformed religion which at last extinguished the Papal domination in England. When Ridley and Latimer were burned at Oxford — those two sturdy old men — the latter turned round at the stake to say that they would that day light a candle in England which would not be put out, and he was right. Cranmer during months of imprisonment was constantly plied with devilish subtlety, for it was I04 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. accompanied by temptations in the shape of pleasant changes from prison hardships and an implied promise that his life would be spared if he did but sign a recantation. He was nearly worn out, and seems to have been demoralized by the persistent wiles of his enemies, for he was not a courageous man, and had been often too much of a time- server to Henry and to the ruling faction that succeeded him. He signed not one only but six recantations, and there is reason to believe that he was at once gnawed by remorse. Happily for him and for the nation his foes carried their duplicity to the end, and condemned him to die. The sentence awoke manhood and truth in his soul. The fallen primate, who had been cajoled into treachery, and who yielded to cowardice, reasserted his faith, condemned his own weakness, thrust into the flames the hand that had signed the recantations, and went cheerfully to be burned. It was practically all over with the Romish power then, though the queen, aided by the furious pope Paul IV., had by an unbridled exercise of bigotry, and with a temper rendered darker and more bitter by jealousy and disappointment, entered into a career which in less than five years gave her the title which has remained to this day, — the name of " Bloody Mary." Perhaps no better portrait of this unhappy and bigoted queen can be given than that of the Venetian Michele. These Venetian ambassa- dors appear to have been the most accomplished "word painters" of the time, and we are indebted to them for their graphic descriptions of our rulers. Michele writes: — "Queen Mary, the daughter of Henry Vni. and of his queen Catharine ... is a princess of great worth. In her youth she was rendered unhappy by the events of her mother's divorce, by the ignominy and threats to which she was exposed after the change of religion in England, she being unwilling to bend to the new one, and by the dangers to which she was exposed by the Duke of Northumberland and the riots among the people when she reached the throne. She is of short stature, thin and delicate, and moderately pretty; her eyes are so lively that she inspires reverence and respect and even fear whenever she turns them : nevertheless she is very short-sighted. Her voice is deep, almost like that of a man. She understands five languages, English, French, Spanish, Latin, and Italian, in which last, however, she does not venture to discourse. She is also much skilled in ladies' work, such as producing all sorts of embroidery with the needle. She has a knowledge of music, chiefly MARY. 105 on the lute, which she plays exceedingly well. As to the qualities of her mind, it may be said of her that she is rash, disdainful, and parsimonious rather than liberal. She is endowed with great humility and patience, but withal high-spirited, courageous, and resolute, having during the whole course of her adversity been guiltless of any the least approach to meanness of comportment; she is, moreover, devout and staunch in the defence of her religion. "Some personal infirmities under which she labours are the causes to her of both public and private affliction. To remedy these recourse was had to frequent blood-letting, and this is the real cause of her paleness, and the general weakness of her frame. The cabals she has been exposed to, the evil disposition of the people towards her, the present poverty and the debt of the crown, and her passion for King Philip, from whom she is doomed to live separate, are so many other causes of the grief by which she is overwhelmed. She is, moreover, a prey to the hatred she bears to my lady Elizabeth, and which has its source in the recollection of the wrongs she experienced on account of her mother, and in the fact that all eyes and hearts are turned towards my lady Elizabeth, as successor to the throne." This was written a year before the death of Mary, and making allowance for the tendencies of the author is a moderately accurate portrait of the daughter of Catharine of Aragon. THE OFFER OF THE CROWN TO LADY JANE GREY. "She has left a portrait of herself, drawn by her own hand — a portrait of piety, purity, and free noble innocence, uncoloured even to a fault with the emotional weaknesses of humanity." These are the words of Mr. Froude in speaking of that "twelfth day" queen of England, whose name appears in history without a royal title, and only as Lady Jane Grey. Amidst the sickening incense of flatterers, the fury of persecution, the intrigues of factions, this pure and gentle • 14 I06 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. lady appears in the record of the time an almost solitary figure, and her name even now thrills a responsive chord in every sympathetic heart. Not as the daughter of Henry Grey, duke of Suffolk, but through her mother, Frances Brandon, niece of Henry VH., she stood next to Mary and Elizabeth as successor to the English crown. We have already noted how, during the illness of Edward VI., the impetuous and unscrupulous Dudley, duke of Northumberland, brought about a marriage between her and his son the Lord Guildford Dudley. She was then only seventeen, but her great accomplishments, the strength of her understanding, and the firmness and yet gentleness of her character, gave her a dignity which enabled her to support the trials through which she was so soon afterwards to be made a martyr to wrongful ambition. In an age when women of high rank were not only accomplished but learned. Lady Jane Grey was distinguished for her attainments. She was acquainted with the Greek, Latin, Italian, and French languages, and had some acquaintance with Hebrew and Arabic. She was a favourite scholar of the learned Roger Ascham, and with the reformer Bullinger she corresponded in Latin as correct as his own. Out of regard for her youth, and perhaps that she might remain ignorant of the intrigue in which she was soon to be involved, she and Lord Guildford Dudley, the boy to whom she had been married, were allowed for a time to reside with her mother in the country, but when Edward's death became imminent she was summoned to her father-in-law's house and informed that the king had appointed her to be heir to the crown. The intelligence was treated by Lady Jane Grey as a jest: she was utterly averse to the whole proposal; but the Duchess of Northumberland, after a stormy scene with the Duchess of Suffolk, carried the young bride off with her. On the 9th of July, three days after the king's death, which had been kept secret. Lady Jane was requested to be at Sion House, and upon her arrival was waited on by Northumberland and other lords, his fellow-conspirators. " The Duke of Suffolk, with much solemnity, explained to his daughter the disposition the late king had made of his crown by letters patent, the clear sense the privy council had of her right, and the consent of the magistrates and citizens of London, and in con- clusion himself and Northumberland fell on their knees, and paid LADY JANE GREY. IO7 homage to her as Queen of England. The poor lady, somewhat astonished at their behaviour and discourse, but in no respect moved by their reasons, or in the least elevated by such unexpected honours, answered them 'that the laws of the kingdom and natural right standing for the king's sisters, she would beware of burdening her weak conscience with a yoke that did not belong to them; that she understood the infamy of those who had permitted the violation of right to gain a sceptre; that it were to mock God and deride justice. Besides,' said she, ' I am not so young nor so little read in the guiles of Fortune as to suffer myself to be taken by them. . . . What she adored but yesterday is to-day her pastime. . . . My liberty is better than the chain you proffer me, with what precious stones soever it be adorned, or of what gold soever framed. I will not exchange my peace for honourable and precious jealousies, for magni- ficence and glorious fetters. And if you love me in good earnest you will rather wish me a secure, a quiet fortune, though mean, than an exalted condition exposed to the wind, and followed by some dismal fall.'" All the moving eloquence of this speech had no effect, and the Lady Jane was at length prevailed on, or rather compelled, by the exhortations of her father, the intercessions of her mother, the artful persuasions of Northumberland, and, above all, the earnest desires of her husband, whom she tenderly loved, to comply with what was proposed to her. The next day she was conveyed by water to the Tower, and there publicly received as queen by some of the citizens and other persons. It was only a mock reign of ten days, and then the Tower, instead of a royal palace, became a prison. Mary, who had retired on having been informed of Northumberland's plot, was already advanc- ing with an armed force; and the people, who were more in favour of the direct succession than in fear of Popery, were everywhere well-affected towards her; even the citizens were silent and unrespon- sive when Lady Jane Grey was proclaimed, and the people of Suffolk, Norfolk, and Cambridgeshire, who detested Northumberland for his severity in repressing their rebellion, were ready to support Marj-'s cause, while the noblemen who were not at the Tower with the council and the supposed adherents of the new regime hastened to give her their aid. It was evident that the plot had failed, and were I08 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. it not for the innocent victim of that conspiracy we could scarcely be sorry for it. The intriguing crew were false to each other and to the cause which they professed to maintain. Northumberland feared to leave everything to the treachery of the council, while they on their part were pressing him to go at the head of an army to oppose the approach of Mary. He had at first intended to intrust the command to Suffolk, but Suffolk was not a distinguished commander; and the new queen besought that her father should stay with her— the father who himself was little less false and selfish than the rest. Northumberland went out himself towards Norfolk at the head of a small army, after appealing to the good faith and sentiments of the council. As he marched with his force of 6000 men through the city his spirits fell, for the people looked on and none wished him God-speed. As to the council, they seem to have made up their minds to desert him and all their recent oaths, and to declare for Queen Mary as soon as his back was turned. Ridley alone appears to have been stanch to the revolution in order to prevent the return of Papistry, but on the Sunday when he preached at Paul's Cross on behalf of the Lady Jane, and against both Mary and Elizabeth, the Londoners listened in silence. On the same day the lord-treasurer stole out of the Tower to his house in the city, evidently to make arrangements for the council going over in a body to Mary. At night he returned, and two days after Cecil, Cranmer, and the rest of the councillors persuaded Suffolk to levy fresh forces, and to place them at their disposal. Meantime, in order to be better able to support the cause of his daughter, they were to leave the Tower, and hold their sittings at Baynard's Castle, then the residence of the Earl of Pembroke. Here they at once declared for Queen Mary, and instantly despatched the Earl of Arundel, Sir William Paget, and Sir William Cecil to notify their submission and " exceeding great loyalty." The lord-mayor and aldermen were sent for and told that they must " ride with them into Cheap, and there proclaim a new queen, where Master Garter-king-at-arms, in his rich coat, stood with a trumpet, and the trumpet being sounded they proclaimed the Lady Mary, daughter to King Henry VHL and Queen Catharine, to be Queen of England, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, and supreme head of the church, and to add more majesty to their act by some devout solemnity, they went in procession to Paul's singing that admirable LADY JANE GREY. IO9 hymn of those holy fathers St. Ambrose and St. Augustine commonly known by its first words Te Detim." Who can follow subsequent events without some feeling of wonder and shame at the prevailing cowardice and treachery, the ignoble ending of some of the men concerned, and the duplicity of others? The next move was to send some of the companies of men-at-arms at their disposal to besiege the Tower. There was no need. The Duke of Suffolk opened the gates at once, went and told his daughter that she must be content to return to private life (at which she rejoiced), and while she was at prayer in an inner room posted off to Baynard's Castle to join the rest of the council in favour of Queen Mary. The Duke of Northumberland was only a little behindhand. He had reached Cambridge the day after the proclamation in Cheap, and being apprised of the fact at once went with such of the nobility as were in his company to the market cross, and calling for a herald proclaimed Queen Mary, and was the first to throw up his cap and cry, "God save her!" This did not save his own neck. When he was afterwards brought to trial, he asked whether any such persons as were equally culpable with him, and those by whose letters and commandments he had been directed in all his doino-s, misfht be his judges or sit upon his trial as jurors, but the question was of no avail. Cranmer, Cecil, and the rest, who averred that they had acted in peril and had been coerced by the duke, tried and condemned him. Before the coronation Cranmer was arrested. He was the sfreatest enemy of Catharine of Aragon, and the most eminent of the Protestant reformers, so we need not wonder that Mary had determined to bring him to death, even without the additional motive that at this time, assisted by the learned Peter Martyr, he wrote (some say, pudHs/icd, but perhaps the documents were only treacherously conveyed to the queen) a manifesto of the Protestant faith and his abhorrence of Popish superstitions. These superstitions were soon restored, the prisons began to be filled with Protestant clergymen, the mass was read and the service of the church conducted in Latin, and except in London and the great cities where Protestantism had taken deeper root, every part of the reformed service was almost immediately thrown aside. Persecutions, fines, imprisonments, and all kinds of barbarities followed. Pestilence and death added their terrors to the scene, and public morality was at no PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. a low ebb. Crime and cruelty went together. From the martyrdom of John Rogers, who suffered on the 4th of February, 1555, about six months after Mary's accession, to the last five victims who were burned at Canterbury on the loth November, 1558, only seven days before her death, not fewer than 288 individuals, among whom were five bishops, twenty-one clergymen, fifty-five women, and four children, were burned in different places for their religious opinions; and in addition to these, several hundreds were tortured, imprisoned, starved, and ruined. Of course to these are to be added a host of executions for felonies and offences against the laws, and these commenced with Northumberland and those who were his immediate abettors in the proclamation of Lady Jane Grey as queen. This was on the 2 2d of August, 1553. The innocent victim of their plots, though she had been sentenced to death and was kept a prisoner at the Tower, might have remained alive but for Wyatt's rebellion. Mary was made to believe that the safety of the crown could only be secured by the execution of the sentence, and on the 12th of February, 1554, Lord Guildford Dudley was delivered to the sheriffs and conducted to the scaffold on Tower- hill. On that dreadful morning the Lady Jane had declined a meeting with him, saying that it would rather increase their grief than be a comfort in death, and that they should shortly meet in a better place and a more happy estate. She saw him conducted to Tower-hill, and with a dauntless but gentle spirit, waiting for immortality, beheld his headless trunk as it was brought back for burial. It was feared that the sympathy of the people for this young and faultless woman would be dangerous, and therefore her scaffold had been made ready on the green within the verge of the Tower, and almost as soon as her husband's body had passed she was led forth to her death. Fecknam, the very catholic dean of St. Paul's, had tormented her last hours with disputations and arguments, but her faith remained unshaken. She went " in countenance nothing cast down, neither her eyes anything moistened with tears, although her gentlewomen, Elizabeth Pilney and Mistress Helen, wonderfully wept." She had a book in her hand wherein she prayed until she came to the scaffold. She addressed the few bystanders, saying that she had deserved her punishment for suffering herself to be made the instru- ment, though unwillingly, of the ambition of others, and that she hoped CRANMER, MARTYR. I 1 1 her fate might serve as a memorable example in after-times. She then implored God's mercy, caused herself to be disrobed by her gentlewomen, veiled her own eyes with her handkerchief, and laid her head on the block, exhorting the lingering executioner to the performance of his office. At last the axe fell, and her lovely head rolled away from the body, drawing tears from the eyes of the spectators, yea, even of those who from the very beginning were best affected to Queen Mary's cause.* CRANMER, MARTYR. Cranmer was brought to trial for high treason on the 13th of November, 1553, but he was respited and pardoned of his treason to be sent back to the Tower on the equally perilous charge of heresy. He had been condemned to death along with the Lady Jane Grey, her youthful husband Lord Guildford Dudley, and Lord Ambrose Dudley, and when he entered the Traitor's Gate he was in no greater danger than that which continued to threaten him until he was committed to the flames. Whatever may have been the seeming weakness and vacilla- tion of Cranmer's conduct, in some respects there can be no doubt that he firmly and consistently supported the Reformation, and that he was willing to live and die for it. Even his so-called recantations are no proof to the contrary, for the Papists, with what appears to be a keen appreciation of his character, tortured him through his mental constitu- tion, just as they were ready to apply physical torments to men of grosser organization. It is extremely difficult to estimate, and still more difficult to describe, the character of Cranmer. His extreme caution frequently misleads us with the notion that he was a coward, while it is at the same time obvious that he never relaxed his efforts to maintain the claims of Protestantism, even at the utmost danger to himself. In the same way it has been shown that the severities with which he was instrumental • BUhop Godwin. De Thou. 112 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. in punishing Papists and heretics were a constant cause of grief to him- self, but that he was obliged to follow his own convictions to what was to him an inevitable, because a logical issue. The whole career of Cranmer is illustrative of his character, and the outset of his preferment suggests the caution that obtained for him the suspicion of duplicity, and the hesitation which, while it was allied to a certain quiet persis- tency, really achieved the Reformation in England, and yet laid him open to a charge of time-serving that would have been wholly inconsis- tent with the fervour and impetuosity of Luther. Cranmer, who belonged to an old and reputable family, was born at Aslacton in Nottinghamshire in 1489, and became a student at Jesus College, Cambridge, in 1503, obtaining his fellowship in 1510. He applied himself to Greek, Hebrew, and theology, and attained consider- able reputation as a scholar. Before he was twenty-three years old he married, and therefore was obliged to forfeit his scholarship, though he was still employed as a lecturer at Buckingham (now Magdalen) College. On the death of his wife a year afterwards he was restored to his previous position, and in 1523 took the degree of Doctor of Divinity, and was appointed lecturer on theology by Jesus College. It was in 1528, while the sweating sickness was raging in Cambridge, that Cranmer retired to Waltham Abbey, there to become tutor to the two sons of a gentleman named Cressy. At this time Henry VHI., who was striving to obtain a divorce from Catharine of Aragon, was in the neighbourhood, and Gardiner and Fox, afterwards bishops of Winchester and Hereford who were in attendance on the king, paid a visit to Mr. Cressy, at whose table they met Cranmer, and began to discuss with him the pressing business which was then occupying their attention. The quiet college tutor, who was a thorough advocate for royal supremacy, at once suggested that the question of the divorce should be tried "out of the word of God," thereby implying that it was not a matter for decision by the pope. When Henry heard of this remark from Fox, he at once saw how well it would suit his own demands, and ex- claimed, "That man hath gotten the right sow by the ear." But for the shrewd insight into character which distinguished Henry, Cranmer might have been little heard of. He at once sent for him and gave him a chaplaincy and the archdeaconry of Taunton, at the same time commanding him to write a treatise expressing his views on the subject of the divorce, and to devote all his attention to the settlement CRANMER, MARTYR. II3 of the matter. He was afterwards appointed to join the embassy to Rome, and though the mission was unsuccessful was deputed about a year afterwards as ambassador to the German emperor on the same business. It was during his residence in Germany that he married Anne, the niece of Osiander, pastor of Nuremburg. This was in 1532, and in the following year, on the death of Warham, the archbishop of Canterbury, Cranmer was appointed to the vacant see. On the 23d of May, 1533, he declared Henry's marriage with Catharine null and void, and publicly married the king to Anne Boleyn. In 1536, in virtue of his office, he had to dissolve this marriage also, and again in 1546 presided at the convocation which pronounced the invalidity of the union with Anne of Cleves. These transactions and the persistency with which he seemed to support the royal tyranny in secular matters, give us the least favour- able aspect of Cranmer's character, but in the fixed resolution to promote the Reformation he could be firm and unyielding even though his determination was likely to bring him into collision with his royal master. His residence in Germany had probably made him acquainted with the eminent reformers who were fighting the battle of religious liberty, and to the same cause he devoted his great ability and that patient effort which distinguished him as the leader of the Protestant part of the English people. It was to his influence that the waning power of the pope may be chiefly attributed, and he assisted in promot- ing those statutes which had for their object the recognition of the king as head of the church in this country, where it should be remembered the overweening demands of the Papal authority had always been resisted when they threatened to interfere with the government, or with such liberties as had been conceded to the people. To Cranmer we owe the translation and distribution of the Bible and the revision of the Liturgy. He caused books of religious instruction to be circulated throughout the country, urged the suppression of the monasteries, and the application of their revenues to the advance- ment of religious teaching and education. He was bold enough to remonstrate with Henry for bestowing some of this property on his favourites, and at the risk of the king's displeasure strenuously resisted the enactment of the six articles proposed by the Duke of Norfolk. Caution and prudence were his characteristics, but he was inde- 16 114 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. fatigable in advancing the cause for which, in spite of the cowardice that caused him to temporize, he was willing at last to die. It would appear that Cranmer was an unimpassioned man, and this slowness of temperament, together with a certain persistency, gives many of his acts an appearance of following out a course in an unrelenting if not a persecuting spirit. It has been well said by a commentator on his life, that it is easier to detract from or to extol a character than to analyze it. " As a man he was weak and vacillating, as a Christian strong, and as both prudent." A man naturally weak may be often courageous, and an upright conscience is easily confused in a weak mind. Prudence was Cranmer's chief characteristic, and prudence begets compromise, compromise vacillation. He said, " It pertains not to private subjects to reform things, but quietly to suffer what they cannot amend." Yet he was the most thorough and consistent reformer in England. He seems to have had little personal ambition, and even less of worldliness, and in his own day he was regarded as a man ever ready to forgive injuries. " Do my lord of Canterbury an ill turn and he is your friend for ever," was the estimate of his disposition. When he entered the Tower through the Traitor's Gate, he was charged with treason and with exceeding his powers under the regency by his vigorous support of the Reformation. Against the latter charge he offered to defend himself, and accompanied Latimer and Ridley to Oxford for that purpose, denying the authority of the pope and that of the commission from Rome which charged him with blasphemy, heresy, perjury, and incontinency. He was sent back to prison upon his appeal, and it was then that the dean of Christchurch took him to his lodgings, and when he was broken in health and spirit obtained his signature to the six documents which together made up his recantation, and were at once published. He saw what he had done when it was too late, and immediately wrote out his general confession of faith, not knowing what the malice of his enemies might attempt. The queen resolved that he should die, and by a refinement of cruelty it was arranged that the fact should not be intimated until the day of his execution. Accordingly on the 2 1st March, 1554, he was informed of his fate, and taken to a scaffold erected opposite the pulpit in St. Mary's. Dr. Cole preached a sermon to justify the execution in spite of the recantation, and called on Cranmer to announce his belief. His courage had risen to the THE DAYS OF "QUEEN BESS. II5 occasion, and as he had previously answered the advice of his friends who persuaded him to attempt to escape out of the kingdom, by saying that he relied upon the Word of God, so now he met his accusers and persecutors by proclaiming anew the tenets of the Reformation. The assembly before whom he was brought had refused to listen to his defence, and to the defence of the brave and learned Ridley and the stout old Latimer, both of whom had already sealed their faith amidst the flames. It was not to be expected that the hooting, mocking crowd of priests and students would long permit him to make his dying declarations. They pulled him from the scaffold and hurried him to the stake, but he feared neither them nor death, as he thrust his right hand into the flame, ejaculating, "That unworthy hand! that unworthy hand!" and soon afterwards e.xpired, saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." It may almost be said that Cranmer's death had more effect in ending the Romish rule in England than any event which had happened during his laborious life. The malice of his enemies defeated itself, and the people began to see to what they had committed themselves, when to the rule of Queen Mar)' was to be added the attempted domination of "the most catholic" Philip of Spaia THE DAYS OF "QUEEN BESS." The change which was effected both in the government of the country and the condition and loyalty of the people under the reign of Elizabeth, must to some extent be attributed to the character of the queen herself, and to that keen perception of the talents and qualities of counsellors, which was a distinguishing characteristic of Henry VIII. She appears, indeed, to have inherited much of her father's strength of will and determination, while her policy exhibits the caution of her grandfather. Perhaps it is because she also displaj-ed a great liking for admiration, and for the refined and respectful flattery with which timid lovers address their mistresses, that it is difiicult to define ri6 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. her true character. Her wilfulness occasionally took the form of womanly waywardness, just as her literary ability on more than one occasion was directed to the composition of a love sonnet. There can be no doubt that she was pleased with the company of statesmen who were also courtiers enough to devote attention to this feminine disposition, and thence arose an artificial or romantic style about the court, and in the addresses of her favourites, which her enemies and calumniators after- wards turned to scandalous account, by base insinuations against her moral character. These slanders were supposed to receive some support from the repeated dissimulations by which she encouraged and yet frustrated the expectations of her marriage; dissimulations which had their reason both in a kind of irresolution which made her slow to commit herself to any policy depending on a foreign coalition, and a personal repugnance to any course of action which would interfere with her own royal prerogative. Whether there was really any sentiment of affection for the unscrupulous and brilliant Leicester, or still later, with the accomplished Essex, it is difficult to declare, especially as her enemies grossly exaggerated every evidence which might have been regarded as a proof of womanly attachment, for the purpose of accusing her of a license of which she was herself too ready to suspect and to accuse other women. The conduct of Elizabeth to the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, is the greatest stain upon a period which, taken altogether, may be justly regarded as one of the most brilliant in English history; but Mary unhappily was in such a position that she aroused the antagonism of the English queen in the very directions where jealousy and an imperious and unforgiving temper were most likely to lead to actual vindictiveness. Mary was possessed of far greater personal attractions than Elizabeth; her beauty was famous in Europe; she had been married, and was in fact still a competitor in matrimonial alliance. She was a Roman Catholic, and though there may have been some doubts as to the orieinal inclination of Elizabeth to Protestantism, her policy was soon determined on the side of the Reformation. Above all she was next in succession to the English throne, and yet was an independent sovereign, a position which the dominant and jealous temper of Elizabeth could not tolerate. It is not difficult to understand how "the Virgin Queen" should have gained the loyalty of the nation, and exercised such influence over :he picture in the new I ■■•EaTMINSTER. THE DAYS OF "QUEEN BESS." II7 some of the most gifted men of the time, that their praises took the form of fantastic flattery in accordance with the custom of poets and sonneteers of that age. She has been soberly described, however, as " of a modest gravity, excellent wit, royal soul, happy memory, and inde- fatigably given to the study of learning, inasmuch as before she was seventeen years of age she understood well the Latin, French, and Italian tongues, and had an indifferent knowledge of Greek. Neither did she neglect music, so far as became a princess, being able to sing sweetly, and play handsomely on the lute. With Roger Ascham, who was her tutor, she read over Melanchthon's Commonplaces, all Tully, a great part of the histories of Titus Livius, certain select orations of I Socrates (whereof two she turned into Latin), Sophocles' tragedies, and the New Testament in Greek, by which means she framed her tongue to a pure and elegant way of speaking, and informed her mind with apt documents and instructions, daily applying herself to the study of good letters, not for pomp and ostentation, but in order to use in her life and the practice of virtue; insomuch as she was a kind of miracle and admiration for her learning among the princes of her times." This, apart from its obvious exaggerations, was not an altogether false estimate of the accomplishments of Elizabeth, who certainly made use of her attainments, not only in those discussions on theological subjects with which she had to contend during the reign of her fanatical sister, but afterwards by a prompt power of illustration which gave force to her wit, and frequently discomfited her political opponents. " Her pure and elegant way of speaking" was not always apparent, especially when she rapped out those resonant oaths which reminded the hearers of her royal father; but there can be no doubt that she was able to hold her place amidst a court distinguished not only for learning but for cultivation of the lighter arts, and her reign was distinguished for a revival of letters. With a certain masculine force of character, and the frequent exhibition of a temper and arrogance that can scarcely be regarded as womanly, the queen was of a right royal presence, and possessed just that kind of personal beauty which might be expected in a daughter of Henry VHL and Anne Boleyn, an underlying feminine grace which was not altogether obscured by her dominant manner and keen authoritative expression of countenance. Never was there a period when the refining and elevating influences Il8 riCTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. were more rapidly developed. The Elizabethan age was illustrious because of the number of great and gifted men who adorned it. The court itself included men who were not only themselves accomplished in literature, poetry, and philosophy, but who were the patrons of those who were still more distinguished. Spenser, Shakspere, and Jonson were the friends of the brilliant company represented by Raleigh, Bacon, and others whose names are as familiar in the world of literature as in that of statesmanship. Indeed a time of peace and of the abatement, if not the abolition of religious persecution, enabled the successors of the men who had made the reign of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. famous for the cultivation of letters, to raise dramatic and poetic art in England to a position which inaugurated a new era, and has never since been surpassed, while the attainments of ladies of aristocratic or gentle birth gave a stimulus to learning and accomplish- ments which has since been wanting, so that we have even in the present day to revert to that higher culture for women without which our advanced education fails to exercise a wide and lasting social influence. The reign of Elizabeth is still regarded as a glorious period in English history, not only a period of great deeds and of a certain magnificence of display, but one in which, after long suppression, the English people rose, if not to absolute freedom of conscience, to a wide and welcome liberty of thoiight and action, and to that kind of ihde- pendence which gives men room to live and work hopefully in the expectation of personal as well as national benefit. The policy which, while it was successful in avoiding war, raised the spirit and the deter- mination of the country, promoted both the prosperity and the enterprise of the community. Agriculture prospered, commerce was developed and enormously extended, and those maritime adventurers who com- bined trading with exploration, and both with pillage of the Spaniards, opened up to England a new world. Even with all the corrections that must be made, now that calm and unprejudiced examination enables us to estimate the character of Elizabeth, and the true nature of the alternately bold and crafty policy which distinguished her reign, we cannot restrain our admiration for the ability and courage of the sovereign, and of a court consisting of men eminent alike for their accomplishments and their sagacity. State- craft, bravery, wit, and learning centered round the person of the queen. THE DAYS OF "QUEEN BESS. II9 and though the court was filled with intrigue, and Elizabeth herself was constantly in danger of exhibiting undue favouritism, there can be little doubt that the almost fantastic eulogies addressed to her represented a sentiment not altogether false or unnatural. It should be remembered that the accession to the throne of a young and not unlovely princess, who added to a royal grace and dignity those accomplishments which enabled her to hold her sovereign place amidst a brilliant throng of courtiers, aroused a sentimental chivalry, which caused men like Raleigh, Cecil, Sidney, and the rest to display an emotional loyalty. It was an age of poetry, of music, and of song, as well as an age of action. There were theatres for stage-plays at Bankside and elsewhere, besides gardens for bear-baiting, and great bouts of single-stick, broadsword play, and morris dancing. Dramas were performed in the inn yards, and shows and pageants always accomp9.nied royal visits. Shakspere, Beau- mont and Fletcher, Ben Jonson, Spenser, and Bacon, would have made any age illustrious ; and when to their grand and enduring achievements in literature and philosophy were added the daring and successful enterprise of men like Hawkins, Drake, and those navigators who were both merchantmen and privateers; and the statesmanship of Walsingham, Throckmorton, Burleigh, and the confidential advisers of the queen, we cease to wonder that the "days of Queen Bess" should so long have been regarded with pride and significant satisfaction. The extension of commerce, together with the prosperity of the country, contributed to the increase of luxuries, and the introduction of the products of distant lands added to the enjoyments not only of the nobility but of the people. The court of Elizabeth was char- acterized by a certain sumptuousness which did not degenerate into vulgar excess, and though many of the nobles of the time were extra- vagant in the matter of dress, they ceased to support a large number of followers. Indeed the independence of the country had contributed to the abolition of that feudal state which kept such large numbers of the common people in a condition of servitude. The queen, who probably from the necessities of her early life had learned to be frugal and even parsimonious in her private expenditure, could exercise a fitting magnificence when occasion required; and as she never without the utmost reluctance called on her people for additions to the royal revenues, the charges for presents and expenses which were requisite on state occasions were mostly paid from her own purse. I20 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. It was an age too when costly display and rich presents were recognized as essential, as our illustrations of some of the private gifts to and from the queen will show. One of the most curious of these is the jewel which was presented to the queen by Bishop Parker, who by the interest of Anne Boleyn had been chaplain of Henry VIII., but was deprived of all his preferments by Mary, to be reinstated again and made Archbishop of Canterbury when the daughter of his patroness came to the throne. Parker was a representative prelate; for he was earnest in advancing the Reformation, and strict in preventing the encroachment of the Puritans. It was he who superintended the translation of the Scriptures known as the Bishop's Bible, and he was celebrated also for his acquaintance with Saxon history and early English literature. TlVe cup given by the queen to Bullinger, the earnest, able, but moderate Swiss reformer, is also an interesting relic. Of course the dresses both of men and women of the higher rank were costly, even though they were often ungraceful, and the variety of costume among the lower order offered a contrast even to those of the time of Henry VIII. Sumptuary laws forbidding certain articles of apparel and ornament, had to be enforced against the London apprentices, and the nobles of the court wore doublets and cloaks embroidered with silk and pearls, jewelled buttons, and ropes of pearls or gems around the neck, or even encircling the hat, which was made of silk or velvet, beaver or taffety. The variety of female costume was bewildering, especially in the matter of hoods and head- dresses, while the hair was " curled, frizzled, and crisped, and laid out in wreaths and borders from one ear to the other." In addition to this there was a varying fashion in the colour of hair, so that ladies not only dyed their locks, but wore false plaits, and even wigs. Both Mary, Queen of Scots, and Elizabeth had wigs of various colours, and wore black, fair, or red hair, as whim or fashion changed. With the enormous ruff (which had to be sent to Holland to be stiffened, as the Dutch laundresses alone understood the art of starching), the long stiff embroidered bodice, reaching in a peak almost to the knees; the clumsy and expansive " fardingale," precursor of the hooped skirt; the big fan of feathers, the portable mirror attached to the girdle, and the black velvet mask with glass eyes, we are familiar through numerous pictures and illustrations. Perfumed silken or linen gloves, embroidered with gold or silver, and stockings of knitted silk, were in use at the later RELICS ASSOCIATED WITH QUEEN ELIZABETH. 1. Jewel given by Archbishop Parker to Queen Elizabeth. 2. The Golden Prayer-book of Queen Elizabeth. 3. Cup set with Amethysts and Turquois. 4. Cup given by Queen Elizabeth to Bullinger, A.D. 1560; now preserved at Zurich. 5. Cup belonging to the Goldsmiths' Company, said to have been given by Queen Elizabeth on her coronation to Sir Martin Bowes. 6. Dish of Glass supposed to have been used at the Christening of Queen Elizabeth, September loth, 1533 ; in Dr. William's Library, Red Cross Street, London. 7. Book in embroidered cover, presented to Queen Elizabeth by Archbishop Parker ; in British Museum. 8. Book of Meditations and Prayers in Latin, French, and Italian, written by Elizabeth when Princess, and given to her father Henry VIII. The cover was embroidered by Elizabeth, and is a monogram of Henry VIII. and Katherine, with heart's-ease at the comers. 9. Pair of \\Tiite Linen Gloves embroidered with black thread ; in possession of H. Syers Cuming, Esq. 10. Violin, said to have been given by Elizabeth to the Earl of Leicester; in the possession of the Earl of Warwick. ui-.i.us Assot lAii.i) wnn f)ri:i-.N i:i.i z auk in THE DAYS OF "QUEEN BESS, 121 period of the reign of Elizabeth, for whom her tire woman made the first pair of silken hose, as a New Year's gift, stockings having been previously made of fine cloth. The luxurious mode of living which the nobles of the time of Henry VIII. had maintained, continued, but with greater variety and greater refinement, while the provisions of the common people were generally more plentiful, and included some luxuries. The dealers in flesh, poultry, and grain were prevented by law from increasing prices of commodities in London by combining to raise the market, and accord- ing to Chamberlain in 1572 the poulterers' charges were: for the best goose, IS.; the best wild mallard, 5^^. ; the best capon, is.; the second sort, lOfl'.; the best hen, yd.; the best chicken, 30'.; an inferior sort, i^d.; the best woodcock, ^d.; the best plover, ^d.; pigeons, per dozen, i.f. ; blackbirds, per dozen, 2,^.; rabbits, each, 3^'.; larks, each, 6d.; the best butter, at per pound, T,d. ; the best eggs, five for a penny. In the reign of Henry VIII, the usual meals of the nobility were, breakfast, which was taken at eight o'clock, dinner at twelve; a slight meal, called ■"an afternoon" at three; supper at six; and an after supper near bed time, at which wine was used, the drink at the other meals being mostly ale. In the reign of Elizabeth the meals were reduced to three, of which the dinner was a kind of state repast. When the guests assembled at a nobleman's house perfumed waters were handed round, in which they dipped their fingers; after which the company was ushered into the dining hall in order of rank, the superior guests occupying seats at the upper tables, and the inferior, together with the officers of the household, at the lower. The tables were covered with costly cloths, the dishes were mostly of silver, and the viands were both dainty and plentiful. The boar's head was a standing dish, and beef, mutton, venison, sucking pigs, game, and poultry, were accompanied by rich sauces, and succeeded by all kinds of cakes and confectionery. The wines were so numerous that it appeared as though the world must be ransacked to procure them; but they stood upon a sideboard, and each guest called for a flagon of that which he preferred. The men wore their plumed and jewelled hats on all occasions except when exchanging courtesies, giving or acknowledging a toast, or in the presence of some very superior person or of royalty. Of course the ordinary fare even of the gentry was less luxurious. For a considerable portion of the year fresh beef was scarce and dear, 16 122 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. though there was mutton, venison, pork, poultry, and plenty of fish. The drink was mostly ale, claret, and sack, which was simply sherry negus; the vegetables, boiled coleworts, and various herbs — lettuce, cress, endive, angelica, and others — for salads, made the chief vegetable diet until potatoes were introduced by Sir Francis Drake. The common people, of course, fared much more plainly, and the ordinary drink was ale, which was always taken to sea along with beef, pork, and biscuit. Not only ale, however, but wine and other luxuries were on board the ships, where commanders like Drake — who yet " would have the gentlemen hale with the mariners" — assumed a kind of sumptuous state, in order to show semi-savage tribes, and the people of countries where costly ceremony was not unknown, how the mariners of the great Queen of England could have their food served on silver, drink their wine out of flagons of plate, and to the sound of a band of music, and yet be in accord with their free followers, and ready to take the same risk, and to share the same labour as the humblest of their crews. SIR FRANCIS DRAKE. It was in the reign of Elizabeth that the sovereignty of the sea was transferred from Spain to England. Through the century and a half which intervened between the death of Edward III. and the fall of Wolsey, the English sea-going population, with but few excep- tions, had moved in a groove in which they lived and worked from day to day and year to year with unerring uniformity. The wine brigs made their annual voyages to Bordeaux and Cadiz; the bays plied with such regularity as the winds allowed them between the Scheldt and the Thames; summer after summer the Iceland fleet went north for the cod and ling which were the food of the winter fasting days; the boats of Yarmouth and Rye, Southampton, Poole, Brixham, Dartmouth, Plymouth, and Fowie fished the Channel. The people themselves, though hardy and industrious, and though as much at home upon the SIR FRANCIS DRAKE. I 23 ocean as their Scandinavian forefathers or their descendants in modern England, were yet contented to hve in an unchanging round from which they neither attempted nor desired to extricate themselves. Yet Columbus had discovered a new world. Cabot, sailing from Bristol for Cathay, had struck the American continent at Nova Scotia, passed into the Greenland seas till he was blocked by ice, and then coasted back to Florida, returning with the news of another continent waiting to be occupied. Yet English mariners turned away from these enterprises, and it was left to Spain in that grand burst of energy which followed on the expulsion of the Moors and the union of the Crowns, to add a hemisphere to the known world, and found empires in lands beyond the sunset.^ But Henry VIII., having to look to the defences of his kingdom after having set himself against the pope, began to develop the navy, and with characteristic energy commenced the building of great vessels which he himself designed. Giustiniani found him in 1 5 18 practising at Southampton with his new brass artillery. The Great Harry was the wonder of northern Europe, and the fleet after- wards collected at Spithead was the strongest that had ever floated on English waters. Mariners and merchants soon caught the influence of the time, and, after Mr. William Hawkins of Plymouth "armed out a tall and goodly ship" wherein he sailed for the coast of Guinea, and there trafficked with the negroes for gold dust and ivory, and then crossed the Atlantic to Brazil, a trade was opened which was to be the beginning of that wonderful commerce which has ever since distinguished the English mercantile marine. Sebastian Cabot was appointed by Edward VI. to the title of grand pilot of England, and the spirit of adventure grew among merchants and gentlemen, who fitted out trading expeditions which were also devoted to exploration. The accession of Elizabeth found commerce leaving its old channels and stretching in a thousand new directions, while from India, Persia, Turkey, Russia, the south of Europe, came articles of hitherto unknown luxury and ornament or of almost invaluable utility, and from the New World was brought rare woods, dyes, precious metals, pearls and new varieties of food. For a time Cecil endeavoured to protect the fishing trade by carrying an ' Froude. 124 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. act of parliament to ordain the eating of fish on Fridays and Saturdays; but the mariners and the larger vessels were out on a different kind of service, engaged in that English mercantile fleet which was scattered about the world, and each vessel in which, having first to protect itself, and afterwards being led to attempt reprisals, became a sea-rover sailing on expeditions half genuinely commercial but certainly half piratical, and wholly devoted to the detriment of the power of Spain and to the assertion of English liberty and freedom of conscience against the arrogant assumptions of Empire and the fanatical persecutions which accompanied the Spanish policy. Indeed it may be said that the mercantile fleet was at war with Spain, partly with the concurrence of Elizabeth, who did not scruple to allow privateering all the time that she was listening to the representations of Philip's ambassadors, or the complaints of other foreigners, and affecting to take stricter measures for the repression of piracy and buccaneering. At length it became a system of reprisals, until, when war was declared, and the Spanish Armada threatened an invasion of England, this continued animosity found an occasion for the leading captain adventurers to take command in the English fleet. Their names are many of them familiar to us, along with those who went forth with them upon the sea to protect England from the powerful attempt of her enemies. Hawkins, Drake, Winter, Frobisher, Palmer, Seymour, Southwell, Sheffield, Fenner, were with Howard at that council of war which was held in his cabin, where it was determined to drive the Spanish vessels out of the shoal water with fire-ships and then to attack them in the open channel. There were others whose names are famous in English history who had been concerned in the "adventures," of which explorations, trading with savages, burning Spanish " Plate" ships, taking galleons, and even attacking and pillaging Spanish stations, formed a part. Foremost among these bold navigators was Francis Drake, the man whose name and deeds are familiar not only to readers of history, but to every lad who lingers with thrilling interest over stories of brave achievements and discoveries. There is some confusion in the accounts of the conditions of Francis Drake's early life, but it is certain that he was born on the banks of the Tay, in Devonshire, in 1546. His father is said by some to have been a poor yeoman, by others a mariner, who as a Protestant SIR FRANCIS DRAKE, 1 25 was compelled to take refuge in Kent during the reign of Mary, but who afterwards, on the accession of Elizabeth, obtained an appointment to read prayers to the seamen of the Royal Navy. Young Francis Drake, who was thus brought up among sailors, was the eldest of twelve sons, and was apprenticed to the master of a bark trading to Zealand and France. With him he acquired a thorough knowledge of seamanship, and his master bequeathed to him the vessel and its equipments, with which he continued to trade long enough to acquire some property. At the age of twenty-two he sold his vessel, and embarked with Sir John Hawkins, his kinsman and early patron, in the last expedition of that famous navigator to the Spanish main. Sir John Hawkins had in fact entered into the trade of procuring slaves from the coast of Guinea and disposing of them for merchandise else- where. He had made a profitable business by two or three voyages, but on this last occasion, being driven into the port of St. Juan D'Ulloa by stress of weather, his vessels, of which Drake commanded one, were at first mistaken for a part of the Spanish fleet. Hawkins acted in good faith, and though there were several merchantmen which he might have taken, agreed not to prevent the entrance of the Spanish vessels of war into the bay; but having once permitted them to pass in, they treacher- ously attacked him, and though he and Drake with their crews fought so desperately as to sink and burn several of the Spaniards, only these two vessels of the squadron escaped, the rest being lost beside all their money, the cargoes of merchandise, and the lives of a great number of their followers. From this time Drake was the implacable enemy of Spain, and sought every opportunity for making reprisals, and after some smaller expeditions obtained a kind of privateering commission from Elizabeth, and in 1572 sailed with two small vessels, the Pasha and the Swafi, and a force of only 73 men, with whom he took and plundered the town of N ombre de Dios on the Isthmus of Darien. Thence he went to Vera Cruz, where he obtained more booty, and afterwards intercepted on the land route fifty mules laden with silver. In August, 1573, he returned in triumph, his vessels full of wealth and his name already so renowned that, after serving with distinction in Ireland with three frigates fitted at his own expense, he was introduced to the queen by Sir Christopher Hatton. He had long cherished the desire to make a voyage in the South Seas through the straits of Magellan, and it is 126 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. said that, having unfolded his plan to Elizabeth, she at once commissioned him but secretly and only as a privateer, at the same time saying, " Who striketh at thee, Drake, striketh at us," words sufficiently suggestive of her participation in the probable success of the enterprise, and in the wealth which it might secure. The story of that wonderful voyage of the Pelican, afterwards called the Golden Hind, and the four other small vessels with their pinnaces and 164 men, has been told over and over again, and is ever fresh and full of interest. It is a story of battle, exploration, discovery, and the accumulation of treasure both by plunder of Spaniards and trade with hitherto unknown people. Along the coasts of Chili and Peru sacking towns, and so by the shores of California and North America, named by him New Albion; thence to the Moluccas and Java, and afterwards doubling the Cape, and reaching Plymouth again amidst acclamations and rejoicings on the 3d of November, 1580, Francis Drake made the voyage round the world in two years and about ten months. Not only his bold exploits but the large amount of treasure which he brought back commended the expedition to Elizabeth, and though for some time she delayed acknowledging her authority, she treated the representations of the Spanish ambassador with silence, and ultimately, when the Golden Hind lay at Deptford, went on board to a grand state banquet, at which she was the guest of the victorious captain, on whom she bestowed the honour of knighthood. Con- cealment of her opposition to the arrogant claims for compensation made by Spain was no longer necessary, for war had become inevitable. The Golden Hind was to be preserved as a monument of the captain's achievements, and when it at last fell to pieces a chair made out of its timbers was sent to Oxford. In 1585 threats of war became violent, and Drake, with a fleet of twenty sail and a force of 2300 soldiers and marines, was sent against the Spanish settlements in the West Indies, where he took St. Jago, St. Domingo, Carthagena and St. Augustine. Two years afterwards he "singed the King of Spain's beard," by sailing with a fleet of thirty ships to the very coast, where, in the harbour of Cadiz, he burned 10,000 tons of shipping destined to form part of the invincible Armada, and also destroyed a hundred vessels between Cadiz and Cape St. Vincent and four castles on the shore. Again he was fortunate in capturing a richly laden carrack near MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS AT LOCHLEVEN CASTLE. 1 27 Terceira on his homeward voyage, and so satisfied the merchant adventurers who had helped to fit out the expedition, beside adding to his own wealth, a portion of which he spent in bringing pure water into the town of Plymouth from a distance of nearly fifteen miles. In 1588 the great Armada was threatening England, and the sturdy, bright-eyed, compact-headed captain was appointed vice-admiral of the British fleet, under Lord Howard of Effingham, who took the chief command in that memorable engagement. MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS AT LOCHLEVEN CASTLE. There are portions of history of which even " the plain unvar- nished tale" is in itself so full of deep and lasting interest that no artificial aid is required to add to them the excitement of romance. The narrative of the life of Mary Queen of Scots needs no embellishment from the hand of the picturesque writer to make it potent in its effects both on the imagination and the heart, and it also possesses the power of claiming our sympathies with the unhappy and beautiful heroine, for whom we cannot fail to express our pity, even while we are deeply impressed with the serious faults of her character, and the difficulty of determining whether she was actually guilty of some of the crimes of which she was accused. However we may regard the strange life-history of this fascinating, brave, and accomplished woman, and the vicissitudes of a sovereignty which could scarcely have been maintained even by a man's strong hand, we cannot forget that towards her Elizabeth displayed much of the Tudor dissimulation, and of the Tudor duplicity and selfish cruelty. No upright policy could have permitted, and no plea even of cunning statecraft can justify, the deliberate treachery and prevarication, by which the Queen of England wrought the ruin of her whom she regarded as her rival while she lived, and whom she had come to detest as her probable successor if she died. It is not too much to say that all Europe was provoked by the foul play which resulted in the enforced 128 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. abdication, followed by the unjustifiable execution, of an independent sovereign by the Queen of England; and it is evident that though the power of this country, combined with a wilfully uncertain policy which made it doubtful what alliances might be made with other states, prevented foreign interference, Elizabeth really feared the general condemnation which these acts deserved, since she was suspiciously anxious to declare with violent protestations that both abdication and execution were effected without her knowledge or consent. At the same time it must be taken into account that Mary was the grand-daughter of the eldest daughter of Henry VII., and that during the unsettled question of succession to the crown of England she and her husband, the dauphin, had been persuaded by her ambitious uncles the Dukes of Lorraine to continue to urge their claims. She was but seventeen years old, the youthful bride of Francis, who was about her own age, when the death of Henry II. made her Queen of France. One year of splendour and power seemed to be hers, but at the end of that short period the death of her mother was followed by that of her royal husband, and Catherine de Medici again rose to power. Mary determined to leave the land of her adoption and to seek that of her birth, but during the time since she had left it, an infant of five years old, everything was changed. Beatoun had been slain. The battles of Flodden, Fala, Solway Moss, and Pinkie had been fought and lost. The entire current of public opinion had been altered. Knox and the severe preachers of the Reformation had thrown their unyield- ing energies into the denunciation of the Roman Catholic system, and the establishment of a Presbyterian government. The very first Sunday after her arrival she commanded a solemn mass to be celebrated in the chapel of the palace. This produced an uproar, and on the following Sunday Knox preached a sermon in which he declared his belief that one mass was more to be feared than ten thousand armed men. Mary was a widow, only nineteen years of age, and with opinions entirely at variance with those which had grown up amidst the people whom she came to rule. She had also to contend with a powerful faction of fierce and unscrupulous nobles, and yet the influence of per- sonal beauty, grace, and splendid accomplishments gained the popular favour, and even enabled her for a time to frustrate the attempts of her enemies. Surely it is difficult to imagine a more terrible life than that of this MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS AT LOCHLEVEN CASTLE. 1 29 young and beautiful woman, for whose hand the princes of foreign courts were competing. Yet her courage sustained her. She appears to have been anxious to conclude amicable relations with Elizabeth, and when she accepted the offer of Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, who had been sent under favour of the English queen, it was probably with the desire to conciliate her cousin by abandoning any foreign alliance. Elizabeth, however, was less inclined to her than before, and appears to have resented those personal charms which enabled Mary to captivate even her enemies. The marriage was peculiarly unhappy in offending all parties, and when the ruthless Bothwell and his followers joined her husband in the murder of Rizzio, there was positive estrangement between the hapless queen and her husband. Whatever may have been the innocence of Mary's intentions, many of her actions seem to have given to her enemies an opportunity for accusation against her, and to have increased the animosity of Elizabeth for one whom she had learned to regard as a subtle, fascinating, and dangerous rival. Even the assassination of the secretary, Rizzio, was the assumed result of the former assumptions of Chastelard, the French poet, who came over in the royal train, and whose boldness led to his arrest and execution. The dreadful tragedy at the lonely house of Kirk-a-field, which was blown up with gunpowder while Darnley was staying there instead of residing with her at Holyrood, was believed to be with her connivance, an opinion which was said to be confirmed by her subsequent marriage with Bothwell, the blood-stained assassin, who carried her off, — as she avowed against her will, — to his castle of Dunbar, after raising a process of divorce against his duchess on the ground of consanguinity. Her child — Darnley's child — was then scarcely more than a twelve- month old, and yet he was born shortly after that terrible evening when the armed ruffians broke into the room at Holyrood, and stabbed Rizzio to death in her presence — an event to which the terror of James I. at the sight of a drawn sword has been attributed. His apparently sagacious guess at the meaning of the letter addressed to Lord Mount- eagle, and the subsequent discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, has also been associated with the impression made upon him by the story of the murder of his father in the explosion of the house at Kirk-a-field. Mary had perhaps mitigated the anger of Elizabeth by giving a remoter heir to the English throne, but she was still first in order 17 130 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. of succession. Her marriage with Both well was the occasion not only for an outburst of indignation on the part of her own subjects, but for a succession of artfully contrived plots, which were designed to ruin her. It was then that, in expectation of a pitched battle at Carbery Hill, between her adherents and those who condemned her cause, she aban- doned Bothwell and appealed to her subjects. She was conducted first to Edinburgh, and then to the secluded castle of Lochleven, where Elizabeth's emissaries were ready to aid in procuring her renunciation of the throne in favour of the infant James (then little more than a year old), who was afterwards solemnly crowned at Stirling on the 29th of July, 1567. After this a fatality seemed to attend every attempt made by the unfortunate Mary; and whether we wholly condemn her conduct or regard her as being in a greater measure the victim of base plots and carefully prepared designs against her life, we cannot avoid comparing her to some beautiful wild creature, whose attempts to assert its free- dom and to escape from the toils of its pursuers only enmesh it more and more in the snares laid for its destruction. Her life had been a seven years' tragedy, full of horrors and of fierce conflict, full also of such strange alternations of sentiment, such contra- dictory impulses, and what would appear to be reckless abandonment of ordinary sentiments, that she might have been deemed a wreck. But twice widowed, thrice married, discrowned, disowned, and a prisoner, she was yet only twenty-five years old, and still possessed that beauty of face and grace of person which charmed all who came within her influence. A lad who stole the keys led her forth from the castle of Lochleven, an army of partisans were waiting for her, only to lose the battle of Langside, after which she fled to Galloway, and then desper- ately, but not without hope, passed into England, claiming the protection which one queen might ask of another. Elizabeth refused to see her, and she on her part declined to accept a subtle offer of mediation between herself and her subjects, of whom she declared that she was lawful sovereign. Instead of being a guest she was a prisoner — a prisoner for nineteen years, which yet must have been the most peaceful if not the happiest in her life. Her spirit was still unbroken, her beauty matured, her health impaired. To the accusation of complicity in Babington's conspiracy, and to the proposal to form a commission by which she should be tried, MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS AT LOCHLEVEN CASTLE. I3I she answered, " I came into this kingdom an independent sovereign to implore the queen's assistance, not to subject myself to her authority. Nor is my spirit so broken by past misfortunes, or so intimidated by present dangers, as to stoop to anything unbecoming a crowned head, or that will disgrace the ancestors from whom I am descended, or the son to whom I leave my throne. If I must be tried princes alone can try me; they are my peers, and the Queen of England's subjects, however noble, are of a rank inferior to mine. Ever since my arrival in this kingdom I have been confined as a prisoner. Its laws never afforded me protection, let them not be perverted now to take away my life." After this protest against tne commission she consented to be tried, confident as it would seem that she would be acquitted. Nothing of the sort was intended, and the strange wild life ended on Wednesday the 8th of February, 1587, on the scaffold at Fotheringay Castle, where she was beheaded, after a farewell to the world which, while it was illustrative of her dauntless and yet feminine courage, was inconsistent with the guilty career with which she had been charged. At all events, if she was false and wicked, those who compassed her destruction were traitors, perjurers, and many of them murderers. Maitland, Morton, Huntly, Argyle, Moray, who as her ministers issued a proclamation for the discovery of Darnley's murderers, were concerned with Bothwell in that crime as in the assassination of Rizzio, and were afterwards his closest friends, not making any attempt to release Mary from his castle at Dunbar, whither, she asserted with all the out- ward signs of grief and indignation, she had been taken by surprise and force. After her marriage to Bothwell, however, they not only combined to release her, and took up arms as they declared to punish Bothwell, and to protect the queen and her son against him, but began to accuse him of the murder, of which they had before striven to acquit him lest they themselves should be implicated. The whole proceeding was a pretence. An act of the privy council was issued against their former accomplice, charging him with the murder of Darnley, and with the abduction of the queen to enforce her to marry him. This was equivalent to protesting Mary's innocence of intent; but Bothwell had plenty of time given him to escape, while Mary was carried to Loch- leven. There the traitorous lords pretended that they only kept her in ward till Bothwell should be banished, and Cecil, on behalf of Elizabeth, 132 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. represented to foreign courts that England would intervene for her liberation as soon as he should be out of the kingdom. He soon disappeared, went into Morayshire, and thence to his dukedom of Orkney, where he was refused admittance by his own lieutenant. In desperate case he became chief of a band of northern pirates, but, on a small fleet being despatched after him from Leith, fled to Norway, and being taken prisoner by the Danish government, was shut up in the castle of Malmo, where he is said to have died insane. Mary remained a prisoner, and the lords who had themselves usurped power, and had been concerned in the crimes in which she was accused of participating, declared that she should be dethroned on account of her misgovernment, and compelled her to resign the crown to her infant son. Her friends, including the Hamiltons, the Earl of Huntly, Lord Herries, and some of the noblest families in Scotland, were unable to help her, though they insisted that she should be restored to the throne under equitable conditions. The lords were unscrupulous, active, and powerful, the preachers incited the towns-people, and cried aloud not only for her dethronement but for her execution. The chapel at Holyrood was demolished, all the queen's plate, jewels, and furniture were seized. "The lords of the secret council," which consisted of the Earls of Athole, Mar, and Glencairn, Lords Ruthven, Hume, Semple, Sanquhar, and Ochiltree, were led by the Earl of Morton. They arrested, tortured, and executed Captain Blackadder and four other obscure persons for the murder of Darnley, but the trial was secret, and the confessions were never published. France was inclined to interfere, but the French envoy was refused an interview with Mary, and the lords threatened to side altogether with England. Throgmorton, who was there to represent Elizabeth, was cordially received, but was also denied access to the queen, and all his despatches came from information derived from Maitland and his confederates. Elizabeth made a show of remon- strating with the lords of the secret council for their undutiful conduct, but rendered no assistance, and it was obvious that she desired to induce them to send the infant Prince James into England. The assembly of the Kirk meeting at Edinburgh chose George Buchanan for their moderator, and entered into league with the lords of the secret council. The Duke of Chatelherault and the Earl of Moray were in France. Thus deserted, betrayed, in danger of torture and of death, the unfor- JAMES STUART. 1 33 tunate queen, on the 24th of July, 1567, signed a deed in presence of the brutal conspirators Ruthven, Lindsay, and Sir Robert Melville, by which she resigned the crown in favour of her baby James, then about fourteen months old, and at the same time was compelled to sign a commission, appointing her half-brother Moray regent during the child's minority. JAMES STUART. It was sixteen years after the victory over the Spanish Armada, and nearly eighteen since Mary Queen of Scots had been beheaded at Fotheringay Castle, after that long and severe imprisonment which made her a cripple and marred her great beauty. Leicester too had paid the penalty of his audacity and his treacherj'. Essex had perished on the scaffold, a fallen favourite, after a brilliant career as soldier, scholar, and general. Drake, Hawkins, and the great opponents of the Armada, had gone to their rest. Raleigh and Cecil remained with some others in high office; but Elizabeth had outlived most of her early courtiers, and now she too lay dying, an old woman of seventy, who after a reign of forty-five years sat on cushions upon the floor at her palace at Richmond, neither rising nor lying down, her finger almost always in her mouth, her eyes open and fixed on the ground. On the 2 1 St March, 1603, she was laid in her bed partly by force, and listened earnestly to the prayers of Whitgift, Archbishop of Canter- bury. The most authentic account of the last hours of the great queen says, that on the 2 2d of March secretary Cecil, with the lord- admiral and the lord-keeper, approached and asked her to name her successor. She started and said, " I told you my seat has been the seat of kings; I will have no rascal to succeed me." The lords not understanding this dark speech looked one on the other, but at length Cecil boldly asked her what she meant by those words "no rascal.''" She replied that a king should succeed her, and who could that be but her cousin of Scotland ? They asked her whether this was her absolute resolution? whereupon she begged them to trouble her no more. 134 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. Notwithstanding, some hours after, when the Archbisliop of Canter- bury and other divines had been with her, and left her in a manner speechless, the lords repaired to her again, and Cecil besought her, if she would have the King of Scots to succeed her, she would show a sign unto them. Whereat, suddenly heaving herself up in her bed, she held both her hands joined together over her head in manner of a crown. Then she sank down, fell into a dose, and at three o'clock on the morning of the 24th of March died in a stupor, without any apparent pain of mind or body. The "dark saying" of Elizabeth is still far from having been explained. In those long cogitations, during which she had her finger in her mouth and her eyes fixed on the floor, her wandering thoughts must have been busy. Not without bitterness could she have contemplated the succession of that son of her enemy and rival, who assuredly she must have regarded as " a rascal" in the sense of his unkingly character and the want of any quality which fitted him to bear rule in England. In duplicity James Stuart was perhaps the equal of Elizabeth herself, in dissimulation he would have been a match for his own mother, as he was a match for English envoys, for Catholic plotters, and for Scottish preachers. But in addition he was altogether mean in conduct, conceited of his crude learning, cowardly and vulgar in disposition, and with a doting and foolish fondness for the favourites of his caprice, which excited the disgust of his court and people, and the contempt and reviling of foreign ambassadors. Bacon, who was then seeking power and eminence, spoke of the time of Elizabeth's death as " a fine morning before sun rising," meaning thereby the rising of James; and if the heir to the English throne had possessed the qualifications of a king, the simile would scarcely have been misplaced, for to what a splendid inheritance he was called! The country was powerful and feared abroad, and was prosperous at home; agriculture had revived and was in a flourishing condition; trade was vastly extended by the commerce which the great maritime adventurers had opened up in distant parts of the world ; the monopolies which had for so long crippled business dealings had for the most part been removed at the urgent demand of parliament; the noble age of literature had progressed, and following the scholars and poets of the time of Henry, Sir Thomas More, Surrey, and the father of Sir Thomas Wyatt, a host of brilliant wits and writers, like Sidney, Raleigh, Spencer, Lord Dorset, JAMES STUART. 1 35 and the immortal Shakspere, had contributed to make the Hterature of England a national inheritance, independent of Greek and Roman models. This literature was developed far more during the reign of James, for in the previous half century, though it had been growing in strength and variety of expression, its progress had been delayed by wars and persecutions, and even in the latter portion of the reign of Elizabeth, the punishments which followed assumed detection of plots against the throne and the state, revived the policy of the axe and the block. Indeed these last years of a great period were darkened by the intrigues of men in power, to maintain their influence by implicating their rivals in treasons, which were often as it seems mere snares, invented to entrap dangerous men to deeds for which they might afterwards be tried and condemned to death or long imprisonment. It should be placed to the account of any estimate of the character of James, that he was born within the shadow of a dark and murderous coalition, — that he was a neglected orphan, never knowing what desperate or unfriendly enterprise might work his ruin, — that he lived ever amidst plots and counter-plots involving the lives of men, and often sustained by treachery, perjury, and bloodshed, — that the stern and fanatical preachers by whom his youth was watched were themselves necessarily associated with men whose authority was sustained by violence and falsehood. Yet learning and literature had advanced in Scotland, and even commerce had been extended by the enterprise of the people, and by their intimate connection with foreign courts. With scanty produce, and a restrictive legislation which almost prohibited individual enterprise, the trade of the country had greatly increased. The impetus given to shipbuilding by James IV. and his son James V., who was a bold and skilful sailor, had developed commerce and enhanced the comfort of the people, who would probably have made far greater progress but for the turbulent aristocracy who governed them. The style of living in Scotland was rude and scanty as compared with that of England, so that James on his journey may well have looked forward to his new kingdom as a land of plenty, and may be excused for expressing astonishment at the luxury, order, and refinement of the noblemen's houses at which he was a guest, and particularly at the palatial and splendid seat of Cecil at Theobalds. Fynes Moryson, who visited Scotland in 1598, says, "Myself was at a knight's house, 136 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. who had many servants to attend him, that brought in his meat with their heads covered with blue caps, the table being more than half- furnished with great platters of porridge, each having a little piece of sodden meat, and when the table was served the servants sat down with us; but the upper mess instead of porridge had a pullet, with some prunes in the broth, and I observed no art of cookery, or furniture of household stuff, but rather rude neglect of both, though myself and my companions, sent from the governor of Berwick about Bordering affairs, were entertained after their best manner." Describing the general diet of the country he tells us that their bread was chiefly hearth cakes of oats, and in the towns wheaten bread, " which for the most part was bought by courtiers, gentlemen, and the best sort of citizens. The drink of the upper classes was wines sweetened with comfits after the French fashion. There seemed to be no inns, but the citizens brewed ale, which was the common drink for festivity or hospitality. The bed- places were built in the wall, with doors to open and shut, in a similar manner to those dormitories which are still occasionally to be seen in cottages in Scotland, but even in country mansions the beds were of straw. The character of James Stuart has been so admirably depicted by Sir Walter Scott in The Fortunes of Nigel, that it might be sufficient to refer to that inimitable story for an estimate of the manners and disposition of the king. The great novelist treats his majesty certainly with as much consideration as he appears to have deserved, and refrains from presenting us with a portrait as coarse as that which was drawn by some of the contemporaries of James himself, or which may be obtained by an examination of his own royal records. He was a man of small and mean extremes. At once a pedant and a conceited dunce, a pretender to learning and wit, and a devourer of flattery which would have been nauseous to any but a person of coarse and depraved taste; a man grossly selfish and unscrupulous, and yet one who lavished on the favourites with whom he was disgustingly familiar, wealth and station which eminent scholars and statesmen might have sought for in vain. Full of subterfuges, and yet so con- stantly in dread of plots that he wore a quilted dagger-proof doublet, and revived the torture in order to wring from innocent or unwill- ing witnesses confessions of what they did not know or were too brave to reveal; a professed peacemaker, who yet was continually JAMES STUART. I 37 making enemies by his want of good faith; a loud professor of religion, who, with low and grovelling propensities and a shifty tyrannous disposi- tion, lowered the whole tone of the court to a dangerous profligacy, and injured the progress of the Reformation and the cause of piety itself by a pretence of discussing matters which he afterwards settled by declaring his divine right to be not only head of the state but head of the church, so that he might at once persecute the Papists whom he feared for their supposed plots, and the Puritans whom he hated because of the rigour with which they had governed him in his youth. During the early period of his life he had been permitted a show of power, while Scotland was actually ruled by a knot of fierce and unscrupulous conspirators. As King of England he was cajoled and flattered by less fierce and perhaps only a little more scrupulous courtiers in order to gain their own ends, while the men who really guided the state watched each other with a growing suspicion which at last in suc- cessive reigns led to the temporary ruin of the country. It took a terrible revolution, the execution of one king, the banishment of another, and the prayer of the people for a foreign governor, to counteract the deadly effects of the Stuart rule in England. To undo the work of flatterers, favourites, and plotting statesmen, much noble and innocent blood had to be shed, and ultimately both England and Scotland were saved only as by fire. Elizabeth must surely have held James in small estimation. She had at one time sought to have him in safe-keeping in England, and had afterwards, it is thought, been concerned in his being shut up in Ruthven Castle, whence he contrived to be liberated by persuading his keepers into a belief that he was not at all angry at their keeping him in duresse. Whether his pusillanimity and the apparent indifference with which he regarded the imprisonment, and afterwards the execution, of his mother, satisfied Elizabeth that he was her slave, it is not easy to say, but he certainly exhibited scarcely ordinary emotion, and was perhaps quite willing that Mary should be kept captive and suffering in England, that he might occupy the throne. At the very time that Elizabeth was preparing the commission to try Mary at Fotheringay he told Courcelles, the French ambassador, that he loved his mother as much as nature and duty commanded, but he could not like her conduct, and knew very well that she had no more good-will towards him than towards the Queen of England, adding among other things that he had seen letters in her handwriting which proved her ill-will towards him, and that he knew 18 138 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. very well that she had made frequent attempts to appoint a regent in Scotland and deprive him of the throne. This is an illustration of the pettishness, pedantry, and suspicious selfishness of the boy, and the man fulfilled the promise of his youth. The ambassadors of James at the court of England were creatures of Elizabeth as much as they were his representatives. Courcelles indeed complained that the king of Scotland did not seem to have much heart at any embassy in his mother's favour, and except on two occasions he appears to have regarded her only as a woman of a different religion who was an obstacle to his own ambition. When he did at last venture to make a more spirited remonstrance, Elizabeth was so enraged that he wrote a humble letter of apology. When the execution was determined on, and James for a little while displayed a more becoming conduct by urging his ambassador. Gray, to spare no pains nor plainness, but to be no longer reserved in dealing for his mother, things might have gone dif- ferently but that Gray himself was in the interests of Elizabeth, and was in reality helping Walsingham and Leicester to send Mary to the scaffold. The former wrote to James expressing surprise that he should interfere to rescue his mother, since as a Protestant prince he ought to feel that her life was inconsistent with the safety of the reformed churches in England and Scotland. James, with a sudden show of dignity, recalled his ambassadors, and that was all, except that he issued an order to the Scottish clergy to remember his mother in their public prayers, and with very few exceptions they refused to pray for an idolater and a Papist. James was then nearly twenty-one years old. Some weeks after his mother's execution he received a visit from Sir Robert Carew, who had been sent by Elizabeth to make excuses, to declare that the deed had been done without her knowledge and consent, to assure him of her anxious concern for his welfare, and to express her trust that he would consider every one as his own enemy who endeavoured to excite any animosity between them on account of the preseni accidetit. After a hysterical outburst and cry for vengeance the royal orphan accepted an increased pension, some deer, and a leash of hounds. Years afterwards this weak, selfish, and unfeeling man displayed even less emotion at the death of his eldest son, the accomplished Prince Henry, and even hurried away the mourning in order to celebrate a series of court entertainments, balls, and masques, for which under such circumstances he gained the wrath and detestation of the people. THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 139 Before the death of Elizabeth he had married the Princess Anne, daughter of the Kinsf of Denmark, and when, as soon as Elizabeth had breathed her last, Sir Robert Carew stole out of the palace of Richmond and posted to Scotland with the news, James was ready to set out for England without her, as delays were dangerous. He was too poor to commence his journey till Cecil sent him some money, the council declining to grant his request that the crown jewels might be sent for the queen. He was full of alacrity to commence the work of ruling the English, though he had held little kingly authority in his own country. During his progress he ordered new coin to be struck, and was anxious to attend the funeral of " the queen defunct," as he called the late Elizabeth. Cecil and the lords were too sagacious to have him present on that solemn occasion however. It is astonishing that they could have endured his prating folly and vulgar self-assertion, but he gave ample evidence that he meant to make the utmost of prerogative. " Do I make the judges? Do I make the bishops?" he asked. "Then, God's wounds! I make what likes me law and gospel;" and this he endeavoured to carry out to the end of his reign, and would have succeeded, but that the people and the parliament had learned freedom, and he was too much of a coward and liked the throne too well to risk disaffection. His belief in witchcraft, and the dread of plots against himself, amounted to an unreasonable terror, and was almost as sugges- tive of his base nature as his captious choice of favourites, and the indifference and even gratuitous injury with which he discarded and then ruined those of whom he had tired, as he discarded the once all-powerful Rochester for the equally infamous but more accomplished Buckingham. THE DEPARTURE OF THE MAYFLOWER. The English Puritans, who had undergone severe repression and persecution in the reign of Elizabeth, had some hope of being able to obtain, under the rule of James, not only a mitigation of the penalties under which they suffered, but such concessions as would secure those reforms in tlie church for which they contended. To this end they 140 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. presented what was called " the millenary petition," without estimating the fact that though James had stigmatized the English Church service as an "evil said mass," he had a decided antipathy to Presbyterian church government, and had received with favour the emissaries sent to Scotland by the arbitrary Bishop Whitgift, the great opponent of Puritanism in the reign of Elizabeth. The consequence of the petition of the Puritans was the Hampton Court Conference, in which, so far from granting anything that they asked, the king, exhibiting all his tyranny, pedantry, and buffoonery, entered at once into theological disquisition, and — to use his own words with regard to his antagonists — " peppered them soundly." Dr. Reynolds, the chief of the Puritan advocates, and at that time reckoned the most learned man in England, pleaded in vain — though he proposed a system which approximated very closely to the form of church government which James himself had formerly endeavoured to establish in Scotland. Only one great benefit arose out of the Hampton Court Congress, and that has been an incalculable blessing to the world at large. During the course of the discussion Dr. Reynolds had proposed that there should be a new translation of the Bible, and this suggestion the king caught at, and in spite of the grumbling remonstrance of Bancroft, bishop of London, eagerly closed with the proposal. In truth, though James was a pedant, and was guilty of absurdities in his common conduct, he had enough of real learning not only to superintend but to appreciate such a work, and the result was that the men appointed to make the translation were the best scholars and linguists that could be found in England. It was a happy decision also which ordered " That a translation be made of the whole Bible as consonant as can be to the original Hebrew and Greek, and this to be set out and printed without any marginal notes," so that there was to be no sectarian interference. As Selden tells us, " The trans- lators took an excellent way. That part of the Bible was given to him who was most excellent in such a tongue (as the Apocrypha to Andrew Downes), and then they met together, and one read the translation, the rest holding in their hands some Bible, either of the learned tongues, or French, Spanish, Italian, &c. If they found any fault they spoke, if not they read on." The whole version was com- pleted in 161 1, and such was its recognized superiority that all the THE DEPARTURE OF THE MAYFLOWER. I4I previous translations gave way to it. It even superseded the Geneva Bible, which in Scotland was the honoured version, and its authority remains to this day. The Puritans gained nothing else by the meeting, and the Convo- cation which was held two months after%vards confirmed their worst fears. A new Book of Canons, drawn up by the intolerant Bancroft, brought forward with unsparing distinctness all the ceremonials to which especial objection had been made. It was decreed that all objectors to the Book of Common Prayer, to the Thirty-nine Articles, to the apostolical character of the Church, and to the ordination of bishops, and that all abettors of churches not belonging to the Establishment, should be accursed and excommunicated. Such severities were practised, that while it is alleged that no fewer than 1500 ministers were sus- pended, no better alternative remained for the oppressed than flight and exile. But by the agency of these despised and afflicted Puritans an empire as powerful as the parent country was to be founded in the untrodden wilds beyond the Atlantic. At the close of Elizabeth's reign, when the English ports were so closely watched that the victims of persecution could obtain the privilege of banishment only at the risk of death or imprisonment, a congregation of Puritans, with their pastor, John Robinson, had effected their escape to Leyden, where, however, they found no congenial home. Though their country had cast them out, they were and would be Englishmen, and they resolved to find a land where they would still be under the dominion of their country, and where they and their posterity would still speak in the English tongue, where they could follow the modes of English life, and above all, where they and their children might worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences. Virginia was the place they selected; and, having ob- tained the permission of the Virginia Company of London, they prepared for their departure by converting their scanty property into one common stock, and hiring two small vessels, the Speedwell of 60 and the May/lower of 100 tons. "We are well weaned," they said, " from the delicate milk of our mother country, and inured to the difficulties of a strange land. The people are industrious and frugal. We are knit together as a body in a most sacred covenant of the Lord, in the violation whereof we make great conscience, and by virtue whereof we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care of each other's good, 142 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. and of the whole. It is not with us as with men whom small things can discourage." Such were the Pilgrim Fathers who founded in the New World a community which, with amazing rapidity, became the nucleus of a great nation. They had been for more than ten years in Leyden, and the persecutions in England forbade their return to their own country. In 1620 the first detachment of Robinson's congregation embarked as the pioneers of the enterprise. Only a small number of the 300 who formed that community could set out at once, because of the smallness of the vessels; and though their Dutch friends had offered not only to defray their expenses but to accompany them, they declined this generous offer, from the motive which led them to preserve their own distinct nationality. Robinson himself and the remaining members of the congregation were to follow as soon as a settlement had been made in Virginia, which was thenceforward to be called New England. There was a noble liberality and lofty sentiment in his parting address. He said: " The Lord has more truth yet to break forth out of His Holy Word. I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the Reformed Churches, which are come to a period in religion, and will go at present no further than the instruments of their reformation. Luther and Calvin were great and shining lights in their times, yet they penetrated not into the whole counsel of God. The Lutherans cannot be drawn to go beyond what Luther saw, and the Calvinists, you see, stick fast where they were left by that great man of God. I beseech you remember it — 'tis an article of your church covenant — that you shall be ready to receive whatever truth shall be made known to you from the written Word of God." The vessels sailed first from Holland to England, but after a short stay there, the Speedwell was declared to be unserviceable, and the Mayflower alone pursued her course, with 10 1 passengers on board, consisting of men, women, and children. After a voyage of sixty-three days they landed at that part of the American coast on which they founded the towns of Plymouth and Boston. A huge mass of dark gray granite was the ground on which they first set foot when they landed, and before the town-hall of Plymouth it is now planted as a great national memorial of the Pilgrim Fathers, the founders of the American Republic. Sick and exhausted with the fatigues of the THE niirARTURE OF THE MAYFLOWER. 143 voyage, they fell upon their knees as soon as they had reached the shore, and gave thanks to God who had brought them in safety through storms and perils. They then proceeded to draw up the brief political constitution under which they were to live together. It was simple enough, and ran as follows : — "In the name of God, Amen. We, whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James, having under- taken for the glory of God and advancement of the Christian faith, and honour of our king and country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one of another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body politic, for our better order and preservation, and furtherance of the ends aforesaid, and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most convenient for the general good of the colony, unto which we promise all due submission and obedience." It would be impossible within the limits of a single article to pursue the intensely interesting account of the vicissitudes of the first colonists, the growth of the community by the arrival of other bands of refugees in the two succeeding reigns, and the internal as well as external difficulties which beset the eventual establishment of the States of Massachusetts, and Providence or Rhode Island. The reader who desires to become acquainted with the sequel to the affecting and important story of the Pilgrim Fathers would do well to refer to Mather's History of New Englartd and Bancroft's History of the United States. THE GUNPOWDER PLOT Is of course the most memorable of those events which g^ave something^ like reality to other suspicions which were baseless. There is little necessity for repeating the whole tangled story, and indeed there have grown around it so many doubtful excrescences, and the secrecy with which examinations were at that time conducted was so favourable to false reports being issued from political motives, that only the main 144 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. narrative can be indicated without long explanations. The Catholics, who had expected some toleration for the exercise of their religion, were rendered desperate by the severities enforced against them. Fine, imprisonment, and persecution had been their constant experience, and there were hundreds of suffering gentlemen in the country who were moody and disaffected. Few, however, were so ready for a mad and monstrous enterprise as Robert Catesby, a bold, determined, and reck- less man, who had been engaged with Essex in his last treasonable attempt, had intrigued with France and Spain, and was now ready for almost any conspiracy, no matter how dangerous. It was he who imagined a scheme for destroying at one blow king, lords, and commons, but what he and his party were to gain by the success of such a hideous crime does not appear. Even those to whom he first mentioned his design were at first too much overcome with horror to assist him in it, but the representation of the sufferings of their co-religionists appears to have persuaded them to join him in the attempt. The first of these was Thomas Winter, a gentleman of Worcestershire, who would not agree to the plot till he had sought the mediation of the King of Spain who was then negotiating with James. He went over to the Netherlands, where he learned from the Spanish ambassador that no clause for the toleration of the Romanists could be obtained in the treaty. From that moment he determined to join Catesby, and accidentally meeting at Ostend an old friend and associate whom he knew to be a man of iron nerve and determined courage, enlisted him in the same cause and brought him back with him to England. This man was Guido Fawkes, who has sometimes been represented as a mercenary, consenting to join the conspiracy for a reward, but who was really a gentleman whose unshaken bravery was heightened to a pitch of indifference to personal safety or personal suffering by the intensity of his fanaticism. Having met Catesby in London they were joined by two others, Thomas Percy the relative and steward of the Duke of Northumberland, and John Wright Percy's brother-in-law and the best swordsman in England, both of whom were furious at James's broken promises. These men met at a lonely house in the fields beyond Clement's Inn, and there each solemnly swore on the sacrament to keep secrecy and not to desist from the enterprise till the rest should give him leave. Then Percy disclosed his purpose to blow up the parliament house with THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 1 45 gunpowder the next time the king should go to the House of Lords. Most of us know some of the strange details of this wild and monstrous attempt : how it was at first intended to bore and mine through the wall of a house abutting on the back of the parliament house, how the wall was of such a thickness that further aid was secured, and two more men were admitted to the plot — Robert Ka}', who had the custody of the house at Lambeth, where wood, faggots, and gunpowder were stored, and Christopher Wright, a younger brother of John Wright, who was already in the conspiracy. These made seven — " all which seven," said Fawkes in his examination, " were gentlemen of name and blood, and not any was employed in or about this action (no, not so much as in digging and delving), that was not a gentleman; and while the others wrought I stood sentinel to descry any man that came near, and when any man came near to the place, upon warning given by me they ceased until they had again notice from me to proceed; and we seven lay in the house and had shot and powder, and we all resolved to die in that place before we yielded or were taken." But the accident of the coal-dealer who rented the vault under the parliament house removing his business, and wanting a tenant for his cellar, changed their plans (just as they were approaching completion), till the repeated prorogation of parliament. The conspirators grew uneasy, all but Fawkes, who seems to have become a mere monomaniac, permitting no other matter to occupy his thoughts than this set and deadly purpose. Others were meanwhile admitted to the plot: John Grant of Warwickshire, Robert Winter, the brother of Thomas Winter, Thomas Bates (Catesby's servant), Sir Everard Digby, Ambrose Rook- wood, and Francis Tresham. All was ready; these later members had money and fleet horses. The consultations were held at White Webbs, a house near Enfield, a wild and solitary place. The parliament was again prorogued till the 5th of November, and on that day the deed was to be done. There were thirty-six barrels of gunpowder in the cellar. Fawkes was to fire the train communicating with the mine by means of a slow match, which would give him time to escape. A ship hired with Tresham's money was in the Thames, in which he was to proceed to Flanders. The conduct of Tresham from the moment of his joining the plot gave Catesby constant uneasiness. He was anxious by some means to warn the Lord Mounteagle, his close friend, so that he might not 18 146 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. be involved in the tragedy. Sir Everard Digby and others of the conspirators also desired to take some means of preventing their par- ticular friends from attending the parliament on that day. We know what followed: Lord Mounteagle, having sat down to supper in his mansion at Hoxton, had a letter delivered to him, said to have been left by an unknown messenger, and containing a mysterious warning. He carried the letter to Whitehall and showed it to Cecil, the king being out at Royston hunting the hare. On the king's return the Lords Cecil and Suffolk, who had already penetrated the mystery, handed the mysterious letter to his majesty, who either guessing or being partly prompted to discover the import of the warning, afterwards received the full credit of that wonderful foresight which could interpret its meaning. This was on the 31st of October, and as it was deter- mined to wait until the night before the meeting of parliament before frustrating the plot, it may be imagined that a coward like James needed some strong stimulus to his vanity to enable him to bear the suspense. On Sunday, the 3d of November, the conspirators were warned through a man in the service of Lord Mounteagle. They were desper- ately alarmed, but yet so infatuated that none of them, not even Tresham, would fly — he, perhaps, because he knew that he had brought discovery upon his accomplices. Fawkes was still calm and unmoved. On the Monday afternoon Suffolk, as lord-chamberlain, accompanied by Lord Mounteagle, went down to the house. From the parliament chamber they went into the vaults pretending to be looking for some of the king's stuffs. They threw open the door of the powder cellar, and there, standing in a corner, saw "a very tall and desperate fellow." This was Guido Fawkes, who, in answer to an apparently careless inquiry as to who he was, said that he was servant to Mr. Percy, and looking after his master's coals. When the visitors had gone, Fawkes went to inform his confederates, and then returned to the cellar. About two o'clock the next morning he undid the door and looked about him. So secretly and effectually had the counterplot been conducted, that before he could step back he was seized and pinioned by a party of soldiers under command of Sir Thomas Knevett, a magistrate of Westminster. There was no time for him to light a match, or they would all have been blown up together. Behind the door was a dark lantern. In his pocket was a watch — a rare possession in those days, — some touch- THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 147 wood, tinder, and slow matches. The prisoner was carried to Whitehall, and there in the royal bedchamber was interrogated by the king and council, the former doubtless in no little perturbation, for though the man was bound, his voice was bold, his countenance defiant if not menacing. He answered their inquiries with fearless scorn, declaring his name to be John Johnson, and that he was servant to Mr. Percy. He avowed his purpose, and regretted that he had not accomplished it, but refused to name any accomplices. The king asked him how he could have the heart to destroy his children and so many innocent souls that must have suffered. He replied, " Dangerous diseases require desperate remedies." One of the Scottish courtiers inquired why he had collected so many barrels of powder. " One of my objects," he retorted, "was to blow Scotchmen back to Scotland." He was taken to the Tower, and there subjected to the question by various grades of torture, comparatively slight at first, but at last terrible, as his failing and uncompleted signature attests. He would at first confess nothing, but the other conspirators disclosed their guilt by fleeing or taking up arms. The story was soon known, but Fawkes, firm to the last, did not name his accomplices till the government knew who they were already. He was tortured horribly, and at last put his hand to a confession which after all revealed no secret with which the council was not acquainted. Such is the outline of this notorious plot; the account which was officially made known, beginning with the handing of the mysterious letter to the king, says : — ' " The king no sooner read the letter but, after a little pause and then reading it over againe, hee delivered his iudgement of it in such sort, as he thought it was not to be contemned, for that the style of it seemed to be more quick and pithie than is vsuall to be in any Pasquil or Libell (the superfluities of idle brains)." The Earl of Salisbury knew James well, and played on this notion by objections which strengthened it. He quoted the sentence, '" For the danger is past as soon as you have burnt this letter,' saying it was likely to be speech of a foole; for if the danger passed so quickly the warning could be of little worth. Againe, ' that they should receive a terrible blow at their parliament, and yet should not see who hurt them.' This, the king replied, pointed ' His raaiestie'sspeach in this last session . . . as neere his very words as could be gathered Together with a discourse of the manner of the discovery ot this late intended treason, io)-ned with the examination, &c. &c. Imprinted at London by Robert Barker, printer to the king's most excellent maiestie, anno 1605. 148 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. to the use of gunpowder. He 'therefore wished that before his going to parHament, the under room of the parliament house should be well and narrowly searched.' Whereupon it was at last concluded, 'that nothing should be left vnsearched in those houses.' And yet for the better colour and stay of rumour in case nothing were found, it was thought meet, that vpon a pretence of Whytieard's missing some of the king's stuffe or hangings which he had in keeping, all those roumes should be narrowly ripped for them. And to this purpose was Sir Thomas Kneuet (a gentleman of his maiesties priuie chamber) employed, being a justice of the peace in Westminster, and one of whose ancient fidelitie both the late queene and our now sovereigne have had large proofe, who, accord- ing to the trust committed vnto him, went about the midnight next after, to the parliament house, accompanied with such a small number as was fit for that errand. But before his entrie in the house, finding Thomas Percyes alleadged man standing without the doores, his cloathes and boots on at so dead a time of the night, he resolued to apprehend him, as hee did, and thereafter went forward to the searching of the house, where after he had caused to be ouerturned some of the billets and coales, he first found one of the small barrels of powder, and after all the rest to the number of thirty-sixe barrels, great and small. And thereafter searching the fellow whom hee had taken, found three matches, and all other instruments fit for blowing vp the powder, ready vpon him, which made him instantly confess his owne guiltinesse, declaring also vnto him, that if he had happened to be within the house when he tooke him, as hee was immediately before (at the ending of his worke) hee would not haue failed to haue blowen him vp, house and all. "Thus after Sir Thomas had caused [him] to be surely bound and well guarded by the company he had brought with him, he himself returned backe to the king's palace, and gaue warning of his successe to the lord chamberlaine and Earle of Salisburie, who immediately warning the rest of the councel that lay in the house, as soon as they could get themselves ready, came, with their fellow counsellers to the king's bed-chamber, being at that time near foure of the clocke in the morning. And at the first entrie of the king's chamber doore, the lord chamberlain, being not any longer able to conceale his ioy for the preuenting of so great a danger, told the king in a confused haste, that all was found and discovered, and the traitor in hands and fast bounds. THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 1 49 "Then order beins: first taken for sendintj for the rest of the counsell that lay in the towne, the prisoner himself was brought into the house, where, in respect ot the strangnesse of the accident no man was stayed from the sight or speaking with him. And within a while after, the counsell did examine him, who, seeming to put on a Romane resolution, did both to the counsell, and to euery other person that spake with him that day, appeare so constant and setled vpon his grounds, as we all thought wee had found some newe Muiius Scaeuola borne in England. For notwithstanding the horour of the fact, the guilt of his conscience, his suddain surprising, the terrour which should haue been stroken in him by comming into the presence of so graue a counsell, and the rest- lesse and confused questions that euery man all that day did vex him with; yet was his countenance so farre from being delected, as he often smiled in a scornful manner, not onely auowing the fact, but repenting onely with the said Scaeuola his failing in the execution thereof, whereof (hee said) the diuell and not God was the discoverer. Answering quickly to every man's obiection, scoffing at any idle questions Avhich were propounded vnto him, and iesting with such as hee thought had no authoritie to examine him. All that day could the counsell get nothing out of him touching his complices, refusing to answere to any such questions which hee thought might discouer the plot, and laying all the blame upon himselfe; whereunto he said he was mooued onely for religion and conscience sake, denying the king to be his lawful soueraigne, or the anoynted of God in respect hee was an hereticke, and giuing himself no other name than John Johnson, servant to Thomas Percy. But the next morning being carried to the Tower, he did not there remaine aboue two or three dayes, being twise or thrise in that space re-examined, and the rack only offi-ed and shewed vnto him, when the maske of his Romaine fortitude did visibly begin to weare and slide off his face. And then did he begin to confess part of the truth and there- after to open the whole matter," 150 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. CHARLES, "KING AND MARTYR." Before the death of James negotiations had been made for the marriage of Prince Charles (" Baby Charles," as his father used to call him) to Henrietta Maria, sister to King Louis of France. In this alliance both the king and the prince had to deal with the crafty and powerful Richelieu, who at once insisted on a complete relaxation of the laws against the Roman Catholics. These demands were a repetition of the agreements made by James with the King of Spain when Charles was affianced to the Infanta — a match which the prince and Buckingham continued to elude with a duplicity which was worthy of the Stuarts. It is said, indeed, that Charles had seen the French princess at the Spanish court during his half clandestine visit there, and that he had then been so smitten with her charms as to determine to break away from the proposed marriage with the sister of Philip. This want of faith led to the difficulties and apprehensions, which, combined with full feeding and excess, of strong sweet wines, hastened the death of James. On the fourteenth day of his illness, being Sunday, the 27th of March, 1625 (on the 8th of April, new style), he sent before daybreak for the prince, who rose out of his bed and went to him in his night-gown. The king seemed to have something earnest to say to him, and so endeavoured to raise himself on his pillow; but his spirits were so spent that he had not strength to make his words audible. He lingered for a few hours, and then " went to his rest upon the day of rest, presently after sermon was done." An hour or two afterwards Charles was proclaimed king at Theobald's, where the ministers had assembled, and on the following day he was proclaimed in London. Charles was then twenty-five years of age, and but for the influence of the latest of his father's favourites, the violent, insolent, and dissolute Buckingham, might have come to the throne with a better promise of a peaceful and a happy reign. But while Buckingham supported the pretensions of the king for his own ends, Charles himself combined the Stuart shiftiness and weakness of character with the Tudor arrogance, and was soon ready to claim from the parliament what would not have been granted CHARLES, "KING AND MARTYR." 15 1 to Elizabeth, though a remarkable advance in the assertion of freedom had been made during the twenty-two years since her death. The nation had became conscious both of its rights and its strength, and the spirit of freedom kept pace with the growing wealth and intelligence of the people. There was nothing in the personal character of Charles which entitled him to the place he has so long held in English histor>', but the circumstances of his position made him prominent. His combined weakness and assumption placed him in opposition to the great national struggle, which became imminent directly the divinely instituted right of kings to arbitrary power was reasserted. Had his end been less tragic, or the events of the contest less momentous, Charles would have been neither hero nor martyr. His public character has been made as it were to reflect the colour of the times by those who regard him as representing a certain principle opposed to anarchy, whereas, he represented no principle but that of autocracy and the aggrandizement of the crown. Had he succeeded, he would perhaps have attempted to drive the nation back to the time when it was declared that laws were concessions to the people from the monarch who granted, and was therefore above, the laws; and this theory might have been held, while in practice a considerable degree of national and personal liberty would have been obtained. The English people, however, had grown into a free constitution. Ihey had no intention of struggling for concessions any more. They deter- mined to have political liberty established and secured by measures which were effectual both with sovereign and subject. There is something in the character of Charles and in the rsal facts of the case to mislead a superficial observer, and at first to lend a certain plausibility to the attractive picture of him which the soften- ing influences of time and the imaginations of his sympathizers have substituted for the real man. Every one is acquainted with the con- ception of him which is still perhaps the prevalent one in the majority of English drawing-rooms, as a stately English gentleman of the most refined tastes and habits, of highly cultivated mind, deep religious feelings, and the purest morals, who unfortunately entertained (or rather was educated into) notions of absolute authority, which were inconsistent with the predominant spirit of the age, though justified by precedents, and who, after making every concession, consistent with 152 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. right, to the exorbitant demands of his rebellious subjects, resisted them by arms in strict self-defence, and more than expiated any errors he had committed in his lifetime by his heroic and saintly bearing on the scaffold. Such a representation could be supported only by the widest deductions from the most imperfect premises, by a total disregard of all but a few isolated facts, and a violation of all the sequences and natural relation of events.^ The truth is that Charles was brought up in a court where the influences were coarse and peculiarly demoraliz- ing, and that he observed a much greater decorum of life than had been displayed by James is so far to his credit, but it may be doubted whether a certain coldness and formality of temperament and a more cultivated taste had not a large share in this superiority. It seems difficult to believe that any man could retain the infamous Buckingham as prime favourite and close friend, and yet have a deep and practical moral sense. The errors of Charles' character may perhaps be partially extenuated by remembering the associations of his youth, and the political crimes of which he was guilty may be referred to the self-importance which he learned from his father and from the tuition of the churchmen to whom his education had been confided. When he was a child his brother Harry, prince of Wales, was living, and he was kept in the back-ground till he was twelve years old. He was also weakly in constitution, and thus had learned to live much within himself, and so may have become reserved and uncommunicative. Thus disposed he would learn from his tutors, and the books to which they directed him, to look upon government as an absolute function of the sovereign. His education was casuistical, his way of looking at things had less relation to the practical duties and obligations of real life than to a narrow standard of conscience and self-assertion, to which those duties were subordinated. As he grew up his reserve was caused less by self- diffidence than self-conceit. He evidently believed that he had a talent for diplomacy, while he was continually imperilling the nation by acts and words which showed no regard for the opinion or the claims of others. His belief in his own wisdom was little less profound than that of James. The overt act of a lie seemed frequently the best method of incommunicativeness, and the lying of Charles ' Sanford, Estimates of English Kings, FROM THE PICTURE BY VANDYKE. RLACKm ASOILLOHCOM DLA3O0W: Au KDtMDURCU. CHARLES, "KING AND MARTYR." 1 53 differed in this essential point from that of Elizabeth, that it did not represent any occasional or partial sentiment of his mind, but was entirely external to his whole nature, and was justified probably to his conscience by the casuistical argument that its perpetration was an essential agency in a policy which, as a whole, represented his real views, and, indeed, to his eyes, the cause of truth. Charles appears to have been incapable of seeing the falsity of his own conduct, or the results of his own arrogant demands, and so sanguine was his nature that it was only when he had lost all, that he gave up the direct opposition, and the tortuous plotting by which he sought to gain his ends. He was true, however, to his own autocratic assertions to the last, and there was after all a nobility in the man which enabled him to bear his reverses, and even to go to the scaffold with a high and dignified bearing. Reduced to complete inaction by inexor- able necessity, he was saved from the consequences of his own ill-advised action. His self-confidence, which in prosperity assumed such an unami- able and unattractive form, exhibited, under these altered circumstances, all the aspect of dignified self-respect. His proud nature fell back upon itself, and the "wise passiveness" thus imposed upon him, became his greatest strength, and has proved the best foundation for his reputation in the eyes of posterity. The more complete the restraint, the more hopeless his prospects, the more helpless his "gray discrowned head," the nobler became his bearing, the brighter grew his fame ; until at last in "that memorable scene" at Whitehall, when every earthly hope had vanished, and all possibility of weak or unworthy plotting had ceased, he was more completely royal in his demeanour, and more worthy of our respect, than at any other epoch of his life. At that moment he dropped the cloak of a constitutional king, which he had hitherto affected to wear, and died with a steady eye and unfaltering tongue, asserting his real creed that "a share in government" is "nothing pertaining" to the people.' There can be little doubt that Charles was in the main a fond and faithful husband, and he was certainly a good and affectionate father, and to these domestic virtues he deservedly owes part of that reputation for virtue which has been so long maintained. His court was decorum and virtue itself in comparison with that of James. Drunkenness disappeared, there were no scandalous favourites, Buckingham only retaining his ascendency, and the king manifested his notions of the royal dignity by ' San/urd. Charles I. 80 1^4 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. a Stately reserve. Charles also had an artistic taste, and not only collected pictures but encouraged Rubens and Vandyke; he was a judge of literature, and retained Jonson as his laureate, read Shakspeare and Spenser, and was friendly to Sandys, May, and Carew. Walpole was of opinion that the celebrated festivals of Louis XIV. were copied from the masques and shows at Whitehall, in its time the most polite court in Europe; yet Charles constantly provoked dislike because of his arrogant, contemptuous and irritable manner, and especially by his offensive speeches. His reformations, except in regard to the more scandalous doings of the court of James, appear to have been little more than external. Mrs. Hutchinson, while she speaks highly of the improvement, intimates that there was still a great deal of private licence, and though it is asserted that Charles discountenanced swearing, perhaps even this was only by comparison. It is reported of Charles II., that in answer to a remonstrance made to him on the oaths in which he indulged, he exclaimed in a very irreverent and unfilial manner, "Oaths! Why, your martyr was a greater swearer than I am." Unluckily for Charles' dignity in the eyes of his attendants and his ultimate welfare with the people, there was a contest of irritability too often cfoine forward between him and his consort Henrietta, who was of a petulant and violent temper. When not offended, however, the queen's manners were lively and agreeable. We are to imagine the time of the court divided between her majesty's coquetries and accomplishments and Catholic confessors, and the king's books and huntings and political anxieties, Buckingham, as long as he lived being the foremost figure next to himself, and Laud and Strafford domineering after Buckingham. In the morning the ladies embroidered, and read huge romances, or practised their music and dancing (the latter sometimes with great noise in the queen's apartments), or they went forth to steal a visit to a fortune-teller, or to see a picture by Rubens, or to sit for a portrait to Vandyke, who married one of them. In the evening there was a masque, or a ball, or a concert, or gaming; the Sucklings, the Wallers, and Carews repeated their soft things, or their verses; and "Sacharissa" (Lady Dorothy Sydney) doubted Mr. Waller's love, and glanced towards sincere-looking Henry Spenser; Lady Carlisle flirted with the Riches and Herberts; Lady Morton looked grave; the queen threw round the circle bright glances and French mots; and the king criticized a picture with Vandyke or Lord Pembroke, or a poem THE CIVIL WAR. 1 55 with Mr. Sandys (who, besides being a poet, was gentleman of his majesty's chamber), or perhaps he took Hamilton or Strafford into a corner, and talked not so wisely against the House of Commons. It was upon the whole a grave and graceful court, not without an under- current of intrigue.' THE GREAT CIVIL WAR. From the hour that Charles ascended the throne it became inevitable that he must come into collision with the parliament as representing the body of the people. Such demands as he made were themselves an outrage upon the constitution of England, and the threats by which they were accompanied would have been out of place even in the time of the Plantagenets. The king was perpetually out of temper with the House of Commons, and they regarded him with suspicion, if not with dislike, and began to organize a systematic resistance to his arrogant claims,' — while the people were stung to fury by the shameless favouritism dis- played to Buckingham, by the successive disasters which accompanied his command, and by the treachery practised towards them by expedi- tions which it was pretended were for the assistance of the Protestants, while they were secretly destined to aid the king of France. The insolent arrogance of Buckingham had become unbearable, and his disgraceful failures in the e.xpeditions of which he was appointed to the command brought the country into contempt. Both in and out of parliament he was pronounced to be the curse of the nation. This was but a few days before he went down with the king to Deptford, to see the ships which had been prepared for operations at Rochelle, while all the time it was intended that the French Protestants should be aban- doned and a peace made with Louis. The London rabble was ready for any mischief, for they partook of the general fur)' against the duke, whose physician, Dr. Lambe, they actually set upon and murdered in the streets, on the perhaps erroneous supposition that he had a part in ' Leigh Hunt. 156 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. his evil counsels. A doggerel distich passed from mouth to mouth saymg, Let Charles and George do what they can, The Duke shall die like Dr. Lambe, and a label was stuck upon a post in Coleman Street inscribed thus: — "Who rules the kingdom? The king. Who rules the king? The duke. Who rules the duke? The devil." It is said that the king uttered these words to Buckingham while they looked at the ships at Deptford : — " George, there are some that wish that both these and thou mightst both perish. But care not for them; we will both perish together if thou doest." This was significant of the public feeling, and the end was not far off. The duke went on to Portsmouth, where he was to embark for Rochelle. Upon Saturday, the 23d of August, 1629, being St. Bartholomew's Eve, he rose up in a well-disposed humour out of his bed and cut a caper or two, and beino- ready, and having been under the barber's hand (where the murderer had thought to have done his deed, for he was leaning upon the window all the while), he went to breakfast attended by a great company of commanders. Beside Soubise, there were many refugees about Buckingham ; and they were seen to gesticulate very violently in conversing with the duke. This was only the habit of their country when excited, but to the English it seemed as though they threatened his grace with actual violence. The duke left his chamber to proceed to his carriage which was in waiting, still followed by the vociferating and gesticulating Frenchmen. In the hall he was stopped by one of his officers, and at that moment he received a knife in his left breast. He drew forth the weapon, staggered, and fell, and died with the word "Villain!" upon his lips. In the throng and confusion no one saw who struck the mortal blow. Suspicion fell upon the Frenchmen, who were with difficulty saved from the fury of the duke's attendants. Then some ran to keep guard at the gates, some to the ramparts of the town. During this time there was a man who went into the kitchen of the very house where the deed was done, and stood there unnoticed of all. But when a multitude of captains and gentlemen rushed into the house exclaiming, "Where is the villain!" "Where is the butcher!" that man calmly came forth amongst them, saying, " I am the man; here I am." They drew their swords and would have despatched him on the spot, THE CIVIL WAR. 157 but for the timely interference of secretary Carleton, Sir Thomas Morton, and some others, who took charge of him till a guard of musketeers arrived and conveyed him to the governor's house. The assassin, who might most easily have escaped had he been so minded, had written a paper to declare his motive, imagining that he must perish on the spot, and leave nobody to speak for him. This paper was sewed in the crown of his hat half within the lining, and was to this effect: — " That man is cowardly, base, and deserveth not the name of a gentleman or soldier, that is not willing to sacrifice his life for the honour of his God, his king, and his country. Let no man commend me for the doing of it, but rather discommend themselves as the cause of it; for if God had not taken our hearts for our sins, he had not gone so long unpunished. — John Felton." This John Felton was a gentleman, and was known to many of the officers at Portsmouth with whom he had served on various occasions. He had been a lieutenant in a regiment employed in the previous year on the miserable expedition to the island of Rhe, and had thrown up his commission in disgust because another man had been irregularly preferred before him, and because he had been refused payment of his arrears. Felton was persistent in his assertion that he committed the deed as an act necessary for the deliverance of the country, and he was firm in declaring that he had no accomplices, and -no motive but the good of the nation and the cause of the Protestant religion. He was thrown into a dungeon and laden with irons, but was afterwards removed to the Tower. Exhortations and threats could not shake his original affirmation, and when the Earl of Dorset threatened him with the rack he said, " I am ready, yet I must tell you that I will then accuse you, my Lord of Dorset, and no one but yourself" This was an awkward determination, but the king would have had him tortured, had not the judges feared the decision of the House of Commons, which, in face of the attempted tyranny of Charles, had on several occasions pronounced the rack and the torture to have been at all times unwarrant- able by the law of England. Felton was therefore hanged at Tyburn, and his body was afterwards taken to Portsmouth and there fixed on a gibbet. Charles did not at first appear greatly moved by the intelligence of Buckingham's death, but afterwards it was said that he retired to his own apartment in a paroxysm of grief. He called the dead duke his martyr. 1 58 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. caused his body to be laid secretly in Westminster Abbey, where a more public funeral with an empty coffin afterwards took place, the procession of a few courtly mourners being guarded all the way from Whitehall by train-bands armed with pike and musket, and beating drums to drown any probable cries or mutterings of the disaffected populace. The king's alleged declaration to Buckingham that they would both perish together took a tragic meaning both for Charles and for the country, for after the death of the favourite he again essayed to reign without parliaments, and first to deny and then to defy the growing demands of a people desiring to be free and a legislative assembly determined to uphold the laws of the constitution. Nothing could teach him. He had tried to obtain his will by the plan of dissolving successive parliaments which were opposed to his exactions, he had illegally caused several persons and some obnoxious members to be arrested and imprisoned, he had spoken words that only the patience that comes of a sense of coming power could have enabled the commons to bear patiently. Each assembly was as firm and resolute as the one that preceded it. He was compelled to dissimulate, — to interpret his demands as though they differed only in words from the concessions that were offered to him, and to agree to proposals which he had just acuteness enough to see that he dare not refuse, all the time pre- meditating how he could avoid or renounce them. Men like Coke, Seymour, Selden, were not to be cajoled, and there were many others in the house who were not to be frightened by threats, even though they were careful to speak in bated and respectful terms of the king's majesty. After the dissolution of his second parliament, and his refusal to listen to the petition for the reform of abuses and the dismissal of Buckingham, the Earl of Arundel w^as confined in his own house, the Earl of Bristol in the Tower. Meanwhile the king had begun to make up for the subsidies which he had failed to extract from the parliament by issuing a warrant under the great seal for levying duties on imports and exports, and for enforcing fines for religion. He who was secretly engaged with the King of France, and who was supported by Laud, issued orders to inquire into the arrears of fines due from the Catholics, to compound with them for immediate payments, and to insure a more regular return. Fresh privy seals for loans were issued to the nobility and to wealthy merchants and a demand for ^120,000 was made on the THE CIVIL WAR. 159 city of London. Both London and the seaport towns were ordered to furnish ships, the lords-Heutenants of counties were ordered to raise troops, to be ready to meet insurrection at home or invasion from abroad. The royal despotism did not stop here, however, for the money raised by these means was still insufficient. Charles's pretended adhesion to the Protestant cause had brought nothing but disgrace to the members of the alliance. Not only the affairs of his brother-in-law the Palatine, and of his uncle the King of Denmark, but the cause of Protestantism in Germany, seemed to be desperate. King and council at once made use of these conditions as an excuse. "Parliament," they said, with bare-faced falsehood, "was not called together, because the urgency of the case would not allow time for its assembly and deliberation." A general loan was ordained, and every person was called upon to contribute according to the rating of the last subsidy. The people were assured that the money would all be paid back by the king to his loving subjects directly parliament had met and granted new sub- sidies, but this was so doubtful a promise, that a host of commissioners were sent out with books and registers and full power to exact these illegal demands. Those who refused to submit were at once made to feel the weight of the royal displeasure; the rich were imprisoned, the poorer were pressed into the army and navy, and those who were not fit for this service were mercilessly punished. The officers of the law were stimulated to use the utmost severity, and those who showed reluctance were removed. Most of the lawyers and judges, however, were subservient enough, but they were even less so than the bishops and the high church clergy, who were at that time seeking preferment, and many of whom preached the doctrine of royal absolutism and divine right in terms that were too shocking even for the primate, Abbott, who was afterwards suspended, and his functions intrusted to a com- mission of which Laud was the chief. The consequence of the subserviency of bishops, priests, and deacons to the court, and their fulsome support of injustice, drove the people to the ranks of the Puritans, and a number of distinguished men, who were not themselves inclined to the rigid notions of Puritanism and at least had no aversion to the creed and ceremonies of the church, became the opponents ot the whole hierarchy, and prepared to make of Puritan ardour a sharp sword against civil tyranny. l6o PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. The determination of Buckingham to drag the nation into a war with France, and the disastrous failure of the attempt, made it again necessary to convoke a parliament; but the commons were little disposed to be subservient, and after voting five subsidies, or ^280,000, refused to carry the vote into law till the king had assented to the famous " Petition of Right," which was a renewal of the terms of Magna Charta. By this Charles was bound to abstain from forced loans and illegal taxes, from arbitrary imprisonment, and from billeting his soldiers on the people. The law of habeas corpus was strictly insisted on, and the sentence of death, except by a properly constituted legal tribunal, was forbidden, while at the same time the establishment of martial law was condemned. After endeavouring to return an evasive acceptance, which the commons would not receive, Charles, who sorely needed money, gave his complete assent to this new charter of English liberty; but neither oath nor promise could bind, any more than bitter experience could teach him. Parliament was again prorogued and his tyrannous exactions were renewed. Neither the nation nor the house could believe him; both had ceased to respect him, both had ceased much to fear him, when the death of Buckingham removed the evil counsel upon which it was supposed that he had acted, and there began to be some hope of amendment. The temper of the House of Commons had hitherto been kept within moderate bounds, but it was quickening into wrath. Coke, Selden, Kir- ton, Elliot, Digges, and others, had spoken boldly and with stern decision. A collision between king and parliament became imminent. Taxes and ship money were again raised by the king's arbitrary authority, Puritans were fined, imprisoned and tortured, and at last, in an access of hierarchi- cal arrogance, Laud and the king together attempted to force a church liturgy upon Scotland. Never was a greater mistake made. The whole country was opposed to the Romanizing tendencies of the arch- bishop; and though James had by crafty measures introduced bishops into the Scotch Church, the people rose against the attempt of his more arrogant son to force upon them a book of canons and a liturgy. On Sunday, the 23d of July, 1637, the new service book was to be read in every parish church in Scotland, but the evidences of popular resentment were so strong that few of the clergy were prepared to obey. In the principal church of Edinburgh, the church of the old cathedral of St. Giles, which contained the seats of the judges, magis- THE CIVIL WAR. l6l trates, and state officials, the liturgy was formally introduced under the auspices of the bishop, dean, and other clergy. Here, if anywhere, it might have been expected that the royal will would have been implicitly carried out. And so it would, perhaps, if there had been an assembly only of official dignitaries. But the body of the church was filled with a congregation of the common people, including a number of citizens' wives and their maid-servants — Christians of vast zeal, and comparatively safe in their obscurity. There were no pews in those days. Each dame sat on her own chair or folding-stool, which was brought to church with her. When the dean, Mr. James Hannay, opened the service-book and began to read the prayers, this assembly was struck with horror which defied all control. They remonstrated aloud, shrieked, and raised their voices in abuse, denouncing the dean as the progeny of the devil, and the bishop as a belly-god, who desired to bring in rank Popery. Another minute and a woman named Jenny Geddes had launched her stool at the dean's head, and the missile was followed by a storm of small clasp Bibles, amidst which, the bishop from the pulpit vainly endeavoured to quell the disturbance, assisted by the magistrates who shouted from the gallery. The whole congregation had to be dismissed by main force before the reading of the liturgy, and the people then remained in the street to mob the bishop, who narrowly escaped with his life. The king was informed of the opposi- tion manifested to the service-book, and had he withdrawn it peace would probably have been restored, but he thought that he could enforce obedience. A formal opposition from the people of Scotland arose, the policy of the previous forty years was overthrown, and the beginning of the civil war may be said to have dated from " the casting of the stools" in St. Giles' Kirk.' It was then that the " National Covenant" was framed, and in the spring of 1639 Charles marched northward at the head of a powerful army, only to conclude a treaty with the insurgents which lasted but a short time. Another army was raised for the purpose of subduing the Scotch malcontents, but as he could no longer raise money by illegal expedients he was forced to summon parliament. His attempted tyranny over this assembly, and his arbitrary attempt to imprison some of its most distinguished members, made the final breach between the king and the nation. Nothing remained but an appeal to arms, and counter ' Chambers' Book of Days. l62 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. proclamations appeared, the king endeavouring still to levy illegal taxes, and the parliament issuing orders that money both for the state and for the army could only be raised by their authority. The popular cause grew apace. The members who had been accused of high treason, and for whose arrest the king had gone to the House of Commons with an armed force, were greeted with public enthusiasm, and were safely bestowed in the city till they could return to their places, when the commons demanded a proper impeachment and a legal trial. They were Lord Kimbolton (in the House of Lords), and in the commons Mr. Denzil Hollis, Sir Arthur Hazlerig, Mr. John Pym, Mr. John Hampden, and Mr. William Strode, men who afterwards did good service for the cause of the nation. At length, after an attempt to take Hull, where he was compelled to raise the siege, the king issued a proclamation requiring all men that could bear arms to meet him at Nottingham by the 25th of August, and upon that day the royal standard was erected, — " about six o'clock in the evening of a very stormy and tempestuous day. The king himself with a small train rode to the top of the Castle Hill. Varney, the knight-marshal, who was standard-bearer, carrying the standard which was then erected in that place with little other ceremony than the sound of drums and trumpets. Melancholy men observed many ill presages about' that time. There was not one regiment of foot yet brought thither, so that the train-bands which the sheriff had drawn together, were all the strength the king had for his person and the guard of the standard. There appeared no conflux of men in obedience to the proclamation, the arms and ammunition were not yet come from York, and a general sadness covered the whole town. The standard was blown down the same night it had been set up, by a very strong and unruly wind, and could not be fixed again in a day or two till the tempest was allayed. This was the melancholy state of the king's affairs when the standard was set up." Tilt UATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 16' THE BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. The two parties had been for many months engaged in a warfare in which success and defeat so equally alternated that it was difficult to ascertain on which side lay the balance of advantage. That such should have been the result of the contest speaks highly for the courage and discipline of the Cavaliers, for from the very first the strength and resources of the rivals were most unequally divided. The Parliament commanded London and all the seaports except Newcastle. Through the influence of the Earl of Northumberland, lord high admiral, the entire dominion of the sea was in the hands of the Houses. All the magazines of arms and ammunition were, at the outset of the civil war, seized by the Parliament, whilst the right of levying taxes — a host of strength in itself — could be exercised with profit only by the assembly. Charles, on the other hand, was deprived of much that his enemies possessed. His revenue had been taken by the Parliament, and he was thus forced to rely on the wealth and generosity of his adherents, and on the taxes levied in the counties that declared for him. He was ill supplied with artillery and ammunition, and in order to arm his followers was even compelled to borrow the weapons of the trained bands. The one grand advantage he possessed, and it was an advantage that stood him in good stead in the early part of the war, was in the nature and quality of his troops. In a conflict between patrician and proletarian it was confidently expected that men drawn from the aristocracy, the landed gentry, and the yeomanry, would prove themselves superior to an army comprised of the rabble of the multitude — the " poor tapsters" and " town apprentice people," as Cromwell called them. Nor were these expectations at first falsified. The Royalists were victorious at Edgehill; they had reduced Cornwall to submission; at Stratton and at Roundaway Down the troops of Lord Stamford and Sir William Waller were defeated; the great Hampden had perished at Chalgrove Field, an irreparable loss to the Parliament; and Bristol, the second city in the kingdom, had been surrendered by Nathaniel Fiennes with such pusillanimity, that it nearly cost its cowardly defender his head. 164 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. The war had not lasted a year, and the advantage was not with the Parliament. Instead, however, of following up his successes by at once marching on London, then in a state of consternation and approaching disaffection, Charles wasted his time by attacking Gloucester. This city was the only remaining garrison in the west possessed by the Parliament, and once reduced, the king held the whole course of the Severn under his command. The siege was resolutely undertaken by the Royalists, and as resolutely sustained by the defenders. But the gallant city was not to be left long unaided. The progress of the king's arms, the defeat of Waller, the taking of Bristol, and now the siege of Gloucester, had excited the fears and the indignation of the Parlia- ment. Every effort, it was felt, must at once be made to prevent any further triumphs of the Royalists. Fourteen thousand men were instantly marched westward, and the king was forced to raise the siege. The battle of Newbury followed. The result was indecisive, and Charles lost on the field his valued friend and faithful adherent Lucius Cary, Viscount Falkland. In the north the Royalists were defeated at Wakefield and at Gainsborough, but shortly afterwards were compensated for these reverses by the total rout of Fairfax at Atherton Moor. A union with Scotland, however, at this time, gave additional increase to the power of the Parliament, and the Solemn League and Covenant' had been signed at Edinburgh. Twenty thousand Scottish troops poured into England, and the popular party soon began to acquire ascendency, while the energies of the Parliament were devoted to bring the contest to an issue. In the eastern association ' This covenant was received by the Parliament of the Assembly of Divines, September 25, 1643. According to Hallam it "consisted in an oath to be subscribed by all sorts of persons in both kingdoms, whereby they bound themselves to preserve the Reformed religion in the Church of Scotland, in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government, according to the Word of God and practice of the best Reformed churches; and to endeavour to bring the churches of God in the three kingdoms to the nearest conjunction and uniformity in religion, confession of faith, foim of church government, directory for worship, and catechizing ; to endeavour, without respect of persons, the extirpation of Popery, Prelacy (that is, church government by archbishops, bishops, their chancellors, and commissaries, deans and chapters, archdeacons, and all other ecclesiastical officers depending on that hierarchy), and whatsoever should be found contrary to sound doctrine and the power of godliness ; to preserve the rights and privileges of the parliaments and the liberties of the kingdoms, and the king's person and authority, in the preservation and defence of the true religion and liberties of the kingdoms ; to endeavour the discovery of incendiaries and ntalignants, who hinder the reformation of religion, and divide the king from his people, that they may be brought to punishment; finally, to assist and defend all such as should enter into this covenant and not suffer themselves to be withdrawn from it, whether to revolt to the opposite party, or to give in to a detestable indifference or neutrality." This document was signed by members of both houses, and by civil and militar)' officers. A large number of the beneficed clergy, who refused to subscribe, were ejected. .Jisk^^^ THE BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 1 65 fourteen thousand men were levied under the Earl of Manchester seconded by Cromwell, while nearly twenty thousand men under Essex and Waller were assembled in the neighbourhood of London. The troops of Essex were to march against the king, while those of Waller were to attack Prince Maurice in the west. .The utmost efforts of Charles were barely sufficient to raise ten thousand men.^ Lincoln had been taken by the Earl of Manchester, whose army now uniting with that of Lords Leven and Fairfax was closely besieging York, then vigorously defended by the Marquis of Newcastle. On a sudden the besiegers were surprised by Prince Rupert. The forces of the Parliament hastily raised the siege, and drawing themselves up on Marston Moor prepared to give battle to the Royalists. An engagement was now inevitable. After a night spent in anxious repose both armies prepared for action. A large ditch ran in front of a portion of the Parliamentarian force. Their centre was under the command of Lords Fairfax and Leven. On the right Sir Thomas Fairfax was stationed; Cromwell and Manchester held the left, which was a barren waste ending in a moor. The royal forces under Prince Rupert took up their position opposite to Sir Thomas Fairfax, while Cromwell and Manchester on the left were opposed by Goring's cavalry and several infantry brigades. At seven in the evening the battle commenced. Manchester's infantry moved upon the ditch, but whilst endeavouring to form they were mowed down like ripened grain before the murderous fire of the Royalists. Goring now ventured to take advantage of this opportunity and charged with his cavalry, but ere he could advance for that purpose Cromwell wheeled round the right of the ditch and fell full upon his flank. The right wing of the Royalists essayed to resist, but in vain; they were broken, routed, and fled in every direction. " Colonel Sydney," says the Parliamentary C/irotiicle, "son to the Earl of Leicester, charged with much gallantry at the head of my Lord of Manchester's regiment of horse, and came off with many wounds, the true badge of his honour." It is also stated that on this occasion, after Sydney had been dangerously wounded and was within the enemy's power, a soldier stepped out of the ranks of Cromwell's regiment and rescued him from his dangerous position. Sydney naturally desired to know the name of his preserver; but the soldier, with that uncouth ' A. C. Ewald, ZJ/i and Times 0/ Algernon Sydnty. 1 66 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. magnanimity which characterized the men who fought under Cromwell, sternly replied that he had not saved him to obtain a reward, and returned to his place in the ranks without disclosing his name. General Fairfax had been driven back under the impetuous charge of Rupert, and the prince, believing the day won, eagerly pursued his retreating foe. He had cause to repent his rashness. Whilst turning to break the centre of the Parliamentary force, and finish what he considered to be a complete victory, he suddenly encountered Cromwell, who had simultaneously charged and defeated the centre of the Royalists. The shock was tremendous, but the result of the conflict was never for a moment doubtful. Prince Rupert was driven back with great loss, and victory declared decisively for the forces of the Parliament. " It was ten o'clock," writes Mr. Forster in his Life of Cromwell, " and by the melancholy dusk which enveloped the moor miefht be seen a fearful sight. Five thousand dead bodies of Englishmen lay heaped upon that fearful ground. The distinction which separated in life these sons of a common country seemed trifling now. The plumed helmet embraced the strong steel cap, as they rolled on the heath together, and the loose love-locks of the careless Cavalier lay drenched in the dark blood of the enthusiastic republican." Soon after the battle of Marston Moor York opened her gates, and a large part of the north of England submitted to the authority of the Parliament. CHARLES THE FIRST IN THE GUARD-ROOM. We feel now, as men felt very soon after the execution of Charles, that we cannot hope entirely to justify the means taken to bring about his trial and to insure the sentence. The last act of the terrible tragedy closes on a scene which has remained for more than two cen- turies one of the saddest and most affecting pictures in English history. By the 6th of January the " High Court of Justice," the self- constituted commission of a self-elected parliament, had been appointed. There were 135 members, and on the 8th of January hll:)-three of CHARLES THE FIRST IN THE GUARD-ROOM. 1 6/ these had assembled in the Painted Chamber, headed by the Lord General Fairfax, who never appeared among them after that day. No more than eighty of the commissioners ever met at one time. Bradshaw was appointed president; Mr. Steel, attorney-general; Mr. Coke, solicitor-general. At the first day of the trial only sixty answered to their names, which were called after the king had been brought in. On the 9th a herald proclaimed that the people should bring in what matter of fact they had against Charles Stuart. The place of trial was the upper end of Westminster Hall, which was divided by strong barriers from the lower half, the Gothic portal being opened to the immense crowds of people. Everywhere within and without the building were soldiers under arms. The bar was an inclosed space within the barrier. On the 19th the king, who was now a prisoner in the custody of guards, was brought from Windsor; and on the following day he was brought in a sedan chair to take his trial. A chair covered with velvet was provided for him to sit upon. As he entered he looked sternly upon the court and upon the people in the galleries, and sat down without moving his hat. His severe glances were returned by his judges, who also remained covered. One can almost imagine the awful stillness of that scene broken by the buzz of the attendants or the whispers of the people. The vast building with its lofty, dark oaken roof; the gray cold January day, the commissioners seated with grim and solemn countenances, the galleries at the sides filled with spectators, among them the Presbyterian wife of the lord-general, — Lady Fairfax, — who is bitterly opposed to the whole proceeding, and remains loyal to the king. Bradshaw rises stem and hard to inform the prisoner of the cause of his being brought thither. Coke, as solicitor to the Common- wealth, succeeds him, but as soon as he begins to speak Charles holds up a goldheaded cane, and touches him two or three times on the shoulder with it, crying, " Hold! hold!" The head of the cane drops off, and Bradshaw tells Coke to proceed with the charge against Charles Stuart, king of England, in the name of all the commons of England, for treason and high misdemeanours. When the clerk, to whom it is delivered, begins to read the charsre, Charles again cries, "Hold!" but the reading is not stopped, nor are the faces of the president and the court moved by the interruption. The prisoner sits down looking on the ground, but presently looks some- 1 68 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. times on the High Court, sometimes up to the galleries, and then rises again and turns to scan the guards and the people in the hall, but still with the same stern face, till, when he has sat down once more, the clerk comes to the words, " Charles Stuart to be a tyrant and a traitor," at which he laughs. The charge accuses him of the whole civil war, and the death of thousands of the people, of division within and invasion from without, of waste of public treasure, spoliation and desolation of great parts of the country, and of continued commissions to rebels and disaffected persons. Charles demands by what lawful authority he is brought to this place, after a yet unconcluded treaty into which he had entered with both Houses of Parliament. Bradshaw replies that he might have observed that he is there by the authority of the people of England, whose elected king he is; and he retorts that England was never an elective kingdom, but an hereditary kingdom, for near these thousand years. He stands, he says, more for the liberty of his people than any here that come to be his pretended judges; upon which Bradshaw replies bitterly, " Sir, how well you have managed your trust is known. If you acknowledge not the authority of the court they must proceed." Charles reasons that he has been brought there by force; that he sees there no House of Lords that may constitute a parliament, and that the king too must be in and part of a parliament. " If it does not satisfy you," exclaims Bradshaw, " we are satisfied with our authority, which we have from God and the people." The court is adjourned till the following Monday, the 2 2d of January, and the guard is ordered to take the prisoner away. Upon which he ejaculates, "Well, sir," and retires facing the court, and pointing to the sword says, " I do not fear that;" after which, amidst mixed cries of "God save the king!" and "Justice! Justice!" he is removed to Sir Robert Cotton's house, and thence to St. James', while the High Court adjourns to keep a fast at Whitehall. On the Monday Charles again persists in questioning the legality of the court, declaring a king could not be tried by any jurisdiction on earth, and that he represents the lives and liberties of the people. Bradshaw interrupts him, and the sergeant-at-arms is ordered to remove him from the bar, as he exclaims, " Well, sir! remember the king is not suffered to give in his reasons for the liberty and freedom of all his subjects." CHARLES THE FIRST IN THE GUARD-ROOM. 1 69 " Sir," replies Bradshaw, " how great a friend you have been to the laws and liberties of the people let all England and the world judge." It is Tuesday afternoon, and the sixty-three commissioners who have been in conference at the Painted Chamber adjourn to Westminster Hall, determined to give no further time to the king to plead, if he should still refuse. Coke asks for judgment, and Charles, on being called on for his defence, attempts to repeat the statements of yesterday. They will not hear him, and on his again refusing to acknowledge the authority of the court the clerk is ordered to record the default, and the king is again taken away by the guards. For two days, the 24th and 25th of January, the court has sat in the Painted Chamber hearing witnesses, and on the 26th the sentence is prepared. The morning of the last day of the trial dawns, and Bradshaw puts on a scarlet robe while the rest of the court are attired in their best habits. Again the king is brought in, and there is in his manner a singular mildness. Amidst cries of " Justice!" and "Execution!" from some of the rabble, one of the soldiers on guard says, "God bless you, sir," and Charles thanks him; but the officer strikes the man with his cane. " Methinks," says the king, " that the punishment exceeds the offence." He sees that there is little to be hoped for from this assembly, the solemn aspect of the court, the scarlet robe of the president, the manner of the soldiery. He urgently asks for a hearing, but is told that he must hear the court first. Bradshaw tells him that he has refused to answer the charge brought against him in the name of the people of England; and a woman's voice cries out, " No, not half the people!" It is supposed to be Lady Fairfax, but the voice is silenced. Charles appeals to be heard in the Painted Chamber. John Downes, a citizen and one of the commissioners, desires that the court may adjourn. In some confusion the court adjourns, but returns in half an hour. Bradshaw cries out, " Sergeant-at-arms, send for your prisoner!" and Charles, who has been in solemn conference with Bishop Juxon, returns to the bar. Bradshaw refuses his request to be heard in the Painted Cham- ber, by the Lords and Commons, and in a long and harsh speech seeks to justify the sentence. Charles hastily asks leave to say one word before that sentence is pronounced. He has heard himself called in the words of the charge, " tyrant, traitor, and murderer." and at the last word has uttered a loud and startling "Hah!" and now Bradshaw says, "What sentence the law affirms to a traitor, a tyrant, a murderer, and a public 170 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. enemy to the country, that sentence you are now to hear." The sen- tence is that he shall " be put to death by severing his head from his body," Bradshaw will not suffer him to answer a word; and saying, "I am not allowed to speak; expect what justice other people will have," he turns away and goes out with his guard. These soldiers have little sympathy with him, though it is but two days before his execution, and he has had to submit to their insults added to his other misfortunes. Their outrages are borne with a serene patience, a lofty forbearance, and a fortitude which do not desert him, even during the sad parting which takes place on the last evening before his execution, when he bids his wife and children farewell — nor even at the block, when he takes the royal ornament from his neck, and hands it to Bishop Juxon with the solemn word " Remember. It is to the pages of Guizot's History of the English Revolution that Delaroche went for the subject of the famous picture representing the insults to which Charles was subjected in the guard-room on the last day of his trial, the 27th of January, 1649, a scene which must have wrung the heart of the one spectator who was probably present, the faithful Herbert, who was the king's constant and attached attendant, who attended the body to the grave, and to whom Charles gave his copy of Shakspere, — the volume which is still preserved in the Queen's library at Windsor. THE PROTECTOR. It may be said of Charles I. that "nothing in his life so much became him as the leaving of it." During that strange trial in West- minster Hall before the High Court of Justice — whose jurisdiction he denied— the manner and bearing of the king was so full of patient dignity, his serene temper and uncomplaining meekness under the insults of the soldiery and the rabble were so remarkable, the royal calm with which he went to the scaffold had in it so much of true nobility, that we can scarcely wonder at his obtaining the reputation of THE PROTECTOR. I 71 a martyr among those who were ready to forget or had previously defended his unscrupulous use of power for the suppression of liberty, and his constant refusal to observe the conditions on which he became Kine of Eneland. At the same time, his undoubted affection for his children, the tender farewell which he took of his family, his pious conversation, and the religious reflections which he had written and published, left a deep impression on the minds of those who alike abhorred the execution of a sentence evidently prepared before the trial, and feared the now dominant party which had clutched the sword of state in the same iron grip with which it held the sword of war. It is difficult to perceive what could have been done with a king who, while he claimed absolute authority, contrived so to dissimulate that the country was threatened with a devastating civil war. The leaders of the stern, unyielding Independents, who saw that no government would be possible except by a strong hand, are not all to be charged with the inevitable consequences of the iron energy with which they protected the country from threatened anarchy and bloodshed. The reserved and silent man whose first appearance in the House of Commons little betokened the vast space he was to fill in the history of the country, was himself obliged to submit to the power which he was able to guide to victory, but which, even in the plenitude of his subsequent authority, he found it difficult to control except by an assumption of arbitrary rule that it took all the force of his impregnable self-possession and great reputation to sustain even for a few months. In any endeavour to arrive at a just conclusion on the subject of the changes in administration, the strife of parties, and finally the arbitrary assembling and dissolution of Parliament by Cromwell, whose strong hand was then the only one which could take the helm when the whole state and constitution of the country was in the midst of a political vortex, it will be wise to consider the following words of Thomas Carlyle, in one of his elucidations of Cromwell's letters and speeches: — " I will venture to give the reader two little pieces of advice which, if his experience resemble mine, may prove furthersome to him in this inquiry; they include the essence of all that I have discovered respecting it : — the first is by no means to credit the wide-spread report that these seventeenth-century Puritans were superstitious, crack- 172 riCTURliS AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. brained persons : given up to enthusiasm, tiie most part of them : the minor ruling part being cunning men, who knew how to assume the dialect of the others, and thereby, as skilful Machiavels, to dupe them. This is a wide-spread report but an untrue one. I advise my reader to try precisely the opposite hypothesis — to consider that his fathers, who had thought about this world very seriously indeed, were not quite so far behindhand in their conclusions respecting it — that actually their ' enthusiasms,' if well seen into, were not foolish, but wise — that Machiavelism, cant, official jargon, whereby a man speaks openly what he does not mean, were, surprising as it may seem, much rarer than they have ever since been." It is easy, at any rate, to discover that the demands made by the Parliament which refused to consider the question of tonnage and poundage at the king's behest until they had resolved to protest against the promotion of Arminianism and Popery by Laud, were clear and earnest enough. It was during these debates, in February, 1629, that there rose to speak a rough, plain-looking, sturdy, rather slovenly man, in a homely coat and a countrified old hat. His words were unstudied, and possessed little grace of oratory, but they were full of meaning, and there was a look of determination in his face, which, with a resolute bearing, commanded the attention of the house. This was Mr. Oliver Cromwell, the new member for Huntingdon, and the man who might have been King of England in name as he was more than king in power and influence. Sir Philip Warwick, a Royalist, who saw him on this first occasion of his speaking in Parliament, speaks of him as of good size, his countenance swollen and reddish, his voice sharp and untunable, and his eloquence full of fervour, so that he was very much hearkened unto. The redness of his face, and even the pitch of his voice, in these days may well have been attributable to the passionate character of the man, associated with that exercise of self-control which seldom deserted him. That Cromwell was of a deeply earnest and passionate nature there can be little doubt, and it must have been a constant struggle for him to hold back from the exercise of an authority which he would only consent to claim when he believed that it was a Divine commission. " I say to you I hoped to have had leave to retire to a private life," he declared to the first Protectoral Parliament which he appointed after the battle of THE PROTECTOR. I 73 Worcester. " I begged to be dismissed of my charge; I begged it again and again; and God be judge between me and all men if I lie in this matter. That I lie not in matter of fact is known to very many; but whether I tell a lie in my heart, as labouring to represent to you what was not upon my heart, I say, The Lord be judge." Even afterwards, when he had necessarily assumed a power which rendered those strone tendencies to absolute rule most difficult to contend against, he spoke in the same strain. The arbitrary dismissal of the Long Parliament, when he broke forth into invective against members who were once his friends, he declared to have been chiefly caused by the desire to lay down the power which was in his hands. " I say to you again," he asserted, " in the presence of that God who hath blessed and been with me in all my adversities and successes — that was to myself my greatest end; a desire perhaps, I am afraid, sinful enough, to be quit of the power God had most clearly by his providence put into my hands, before he called me to lay it down, before these honest ends of our fighting were attained and settled." In considering the character and the position of Oliver Cromwell it is necessary to remember that he was forty-three years old, and a man of established reputation and fortune, before he became pro- minent as a general; but that the power to which he attained was the result of conditions apart from personal ambition, and of so urgent a nature that he was justified in regarding them as the direct ordinations of Providence. Whatever we may think of his assumption of the authority to call and to dissolve parliaments, the fact of his efforts to establish a legislative assembly, and his readiness to appoint a House of Lords, are proofs that he desired to renew the government on a constitutional basis, even though the factions with which he had to contend rendered the task temporarily impracticable. In order to estimate what he really achieved for this country, it is well to note what a sudden and calamitous collapse followed his death and the restoration of monarchy in the person of Charles II. Under the lord -protector England was the strongest state in Europe. Foreign ambassadors spoke with bated breath when he demanded justice and the suppression of abuses which affected English claims. The arrocfant demands of Holland were humbled, France was silenced, Spain brought to submission. Everywhere on land the arms of the Ironsides were triumphant; and on the sea, piracy 174 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. was abolished and the supremacy of England was maintained. Ireland was subdued, Scotland ceased to be an independent kingdom when factions and parties were dissolved by repeated defeats, and the cause of Charles was lost beyond repair. Justice was administered without fear and without reproach; the whole moral atmosphere of the court was purified; and liberty of conscience was proclaimed and so consistently upheld, that, even when the nation was again debased by its rulers, the spirit of freedom was ready to reassert itself. After Cromwell's death came the reign of impotence. It would almost seem that the country had yet to be taught that true national greatness was not to be achieved under the arbitrary rule of any one man, however conscientious or however eminent. There was no abiding principle of self-government. The fierce and fanatic section of those parties which strove for power had been suppressed, the less violent had been weakened by division and so had succumbed to the energy which was compelled to govern in spite of their repeated and ineffectual efforts. Charles had lost his throne and his head in the endeavour to usurp arbitrary power for the monarchy. Oliver might have gained the throne, and perhaps at one time was tempted by a royal title, but he spent his enormous energy in the unselfish exercise of an arbitrary power which he believed could alone save the country from anarchy. The vast space which he fills in English history is measured not alone by what he achieved, but by the principles Avhich he represented. It is perhaps not too much to say that the strange vicissitudes of that period forced him to adopt a course in seeming opposition to the liberty of which he was the advocate, in order that the principles themselves might be vindicated. If he failed, or rather had not at the time of his death succeeded, in the attempts to create a representative assembly of the nation, which might share and not monopolize the seats of legislature and judicature, and which, on the other hand, might secure the foundations of society in a different spirit to that of a blind supporter of old abuses or a religious persecutor, we ought not to ignore the wisdom and foresight which saw in his own absolute authority only a transitional necessity. Oliver Cromwell was in fact a man of powerful character, strong will, and intense convictions, with a passionate and at the same time a deeply sympathetic nature. " His temper was exceedingly fiery," says Maidston, who was one of his household, " as I have known, but the THE PROTECTOR. ' / D flame of it kept down for the most part, or soon allayed with those moral endowments he had. He was naturally compassionate towards objects in distress, even to an effeminate measure; though God had made him a heart wherein was left little room for any fear but what was due to himself, of which there was a large proportion. Yet did he exceed in tenderness towards sufferers. A larger soul, I think, hath seldom dwelt in a house of clay than his was." This honest declaration of one who knew him well contrasts strangely with the false estimate of the protector which was dissemi- nated after his death by his enemies, and which, like the pretended names of some of the members of the "Barebone" Parliament, such as Praise God Barebone and others, was the invention of a later time. The true records of history — Cromwell's speeches, his letters, the evident confidence reposed in him by the most trustworthy men — show at least what his personal character must have been, and that religious liberty and purity of life were the principles which he con- stantly advocated. It has even been the fashion to represent him as a sour sectary, caring little for intellectual culture or social graces and refinements; but his rule of life was truly a noble one. He advised his son Richard to " be above the pleasures of this life and outward business, and then you shall have the true use and comfort of them, and not otherwise." Cromwell in his earlier days had been the subject of strong religious convictions, and had suffered from that combined depression of the nervous system and distress of mind which have been experienced by other men of intense or emotional temperament combined with a conscience too much directed to self-analysis. But he seems to have emerged from this condition to that of a strong, cheerful, and energetic, but still sympathetic man, with a mind well cultured and a taste by no means unrefined. He formed a noble library, could dispute with the Scotch commissioners, and match their arguments from Mariana and Buchanan; supported the two universities, and planned a third one at Durham; and was certainly an impartial friend and patron of the best scholars, painters, musicians, and poets of the age. He drew around him the best men of the time, and his prayer was, " God give us hearts and spirits to keep things equal." Milton was his Latin secretary and familiar friend, Andrew Marvel was his frequent guest, Waller was his companion and kinsman, Dryden was among his visitors; Hartlib. the 176 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. advocate of education, the learned Archbishop Usher, and Jolin Biddle were pensioned. His court was quiet and modest, yet dignified in its simpHcity. At Hampton Court, which was Cromwell's favourite residence, there was often a good deal of harmless fun going on. He was a great lover of music, and entertained the most skilful in that science in his pay and family. "He respected all persons that were eximious in any art, and would procure them to be sent or brought to him. Sometimes he would for a frolic, before he had half dined, give order for the drum to beat, and call in his foot-guards, who were permitted to make booty of all they found on the table. Sometimes he would be jocund with some of the nobility, and would tell them what company they had lately kept, when and where they had drunk the king's health and the royal family's, bidding them, when they did it again, to do it more privately; and this without any passion, and as festivous, droll discourse.'" Crom- well, the iron soldier, was a man of deep family affection, and the tone of his court partook of his domestic character. Not only the disposition but even the original station of Cromwell has been persistently misrepresented. It would certainly have been no disgrace if the great Protector had been " the son of a brewer at Huntingdon;" but the truth is that his father was one of the landed gentry with a good estate and influential family connections, while Oliver himself was afterwards a substantial landowner in Cambridge- shire, and did not take any prominent part in public affairs till he was above forty years of age, when he was returned to Parliament. The history of the Commonwealth, and of the man who was at its head, need to be studied carefully and without prejudice by the reader who desires to discover what were the elements of those vast changes which led to the establishment of a free constitutional government in England. ' Whitelock. THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 177 THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. During the vicissitudes which accompanied the attempts of Charles I. to gain an advantage either by arms or by the art of playing upon the antipathies of the antagonistic Presbyterians and his English parliament, the Marquis of Montrose sustained a brief but an important position. It may be said that the successes of Montrose gave the king courage to refuse to make peace, even in opposition to the advice of the fiery Prince Rupert himself. James Graham, Earl, and afterwards Marquis, of Montrose, was a brave, adroit, and unprincipled adventurer, who had been by turns courtier and Covenanter, and then again an adherent of the king. He had marched into London with Leslie's army, and had been appointed by the Covenanters one of their commissioners to treat with the king at Ripon and York. Charles induced him to betray his colleagues, and to continue to play the part of a zealous Covenanter while he was really devoting himself to the opposite cause. A letter in which Montrose agreed to this service was stolen from the king's pocket, copied, and sent to the Covenanters. It was said that this was done by the Duke of Hamilton, who with Argyle was a powerful upholder of the Covenant. Montrose had time to accuse them both of treason before he was arrested and imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle with some of his adherents. He was afterwards liberated, and with the men to whom both he and the king had been treacherously opposed, was raised to higher honours, so that he afterwards offered aid to the royal cause in conjunction with a similar adventurer, the Irish Earl of Antrim, who was to bring an army from Ireland while Montrose exerted his influence to cause a division in Scotland. Their schemes were not at first successful ; but afterwards, when the Royalists had been beaten at Marston Moor; when the old Covenant had been succeeded by the new Solemn League and Covenant, which was all that the Scottish Commissioners could induce the Presbyterian Parlia- ment to accept; when the king had heaped fresh insults on both parties; when the decisive battle of Naseby had been fought and won, and Charles was still holding out with weak obstinacy at Ragland Castle, Montrose — 23 178 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. who had penetrated into Scotland and had taken Dumfries, but had been compelled to retreat in the absence of a promised Irish army — again began to move. He crossed the Border once more and hid in the Highlands till the arrival of 1200 Irish — a wild undisciplined force which joined 2000 Highlanders, as wild and badly armed as themselves. Argyle (now lieutenant of the kingdom) and Lord Elcho marched against him from different points; but Montrose was too quick for them, and at once established a kind of guerilla warfare, in which his hardy, swift, but undisciplined troops were most successful. He defeated Elcho in Perthshire, and captured the town of Perth, which his followers so ruthlessly plundered that they grew rich enough to desert his standard and to return with their booty to the mountains. The Irish contingent could not retreat, for Argyle had burned their ships. Mon- trose led them northward, hoping to be reinforced by the whole clan of the Gordons. Two thousand seven hundred men were posted at the Bridge of Dee to intercept him ; but he crossed at a ford above that place, took his foes in the flank, and drove them before him into Aberdeen, which was made the scene of awful carnage, and was pillaged without mercy. But Argyle was at his heels, and after two or three days the Highlanders and the Irish were obliged to abandon Aberdeen, whence Montrose led them northward to the Spey, still pursued by Argyle, and that so rapidly that they were obliged to bury their artillery in a morass and hurry along the right bank of the stream to the mountains at Badenoch. Thence they made repeated raids, waiting in vain for the great clans to join them. Both forces were pretty nearly exhausted. The adherents of Mon- trose, worn out with rapid forced marches, left him with only his dimin- ished Irish troops. The Covenanters went into winter quarters and Argyle retired to rest to his castle at Inverary, at the head of Loch Fyne, " where he hived himself securely, suffering no enemy to be within a hun- dred miles of him." But when he suspected nothing less, the trembling cowherds came down from the hills and told Argyle the enemy was only two miles off. Montrose, enforced by clans of Highlanders, had braved the winter storms and snows and crossed moor and morass, layino- the country waste as he went, till he was almost under the shadow of the old castle of Inverary. Argyle, who had set a price upon his head, had nothing to hope from his clemency, and only saved himself by THE EXECUTION UF MONTROSE. 179 crossing the loch in a fishing-boat. Then Montrose divided his army into three irregular columns, which carried fire and sword throughout Argyleshire and laid it utterly waste, slaying and sparing not. Having accomplished this they marched through Lome and Aber to Lochness to encounter the Earl of Seaforth; but learning that Argyle had gathered forces from the Lowlands, Montrose determined to engage him first, and so passing by an obscure way over the Lochaber hills he came upon him unawares, and on the next day a hand-to-hand conflict ended in the rout and pursuit of the Covenanters, of whom about 1 500 were slain. After this victory Montrose was joined by the Gordons and other clans, and so was enabled to break into Dundee, from which he retreated almost immediately before a large body of Covenanters, and again escaped to the mountains. Another victory, at a village near Nairn, where the slain on both sides amounted to 2000, raised the spirits of Charles, who made an attempt to push on his cavalry to meet the forces of Montrose, and had actually crossed the country from Hereford to Doncaster when the pursuit by Sir David Leslie with the entire body of Scottish cavalry then in England caused him to turn back. Montrose crossed the Forth a little above Stirling, directing his march across the narrow isthmus which separates the Firth of Forth from the Firth of Clyde. Baillie and the Covenanters came up with him at Kilsyth, but they were utterly defeated, losing all their artillery, arms, and ammunition. Argyle and .the chiefs of the party fled by sea to England. Glasgow opened its gates to Montrose and his wild and savage followers. Then there came an end to his victories; the Highland tribes who had joined him retired again to the mountains with their plunder. He had overrun and laid waste the country, but he held no positions nor had he secured any place in the Lowlands. He advanced southward expecting to meet a reinforcement of cavalry from England; but Charles was still uncertain, had lost Bristol, which had been surrendered by Prince Rupert, and after the defeat of the Royalists at Rowton Heath was compelled to retreat to Denbigh, where he subsequently learned that his northern ally had also lost his desperate game. David Leslie, who advanced on the east coast of Scotland, had heard that Montrose was moving to the south-west, probably with l8o PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. the view ot meeting Charles at the time that he had determined to unite the two armies. The Covenanter general, therefore, led his Scottish cavalry from the shores of the Forth to Solway Firth, and, taking a lesson from the frequent tactics of his opponent, fell suddenly upon the Royalists in Selkirk Forest, and so completely vanquished them that the army was destroyed, Montrose himself escaping to the Highlands, many of his principal adherents being either killed in battle or afterwards executed by the Covenanters. After the execution of Charles I. the Independents declared that the proclamation of the Prince of Wales or any other to be king or chief magistrate would be punished as high treason. The Rump Parliament determined to bring some of the chief royalists to a speedy trial. On the 9th of March following the king's death on the 30th of January, Duke Hamilton and the Lords Holland and Capel were beheaded in Palace Yard. The late king's eldest son was proclaimed as Charles H. both in Scotland and Ireland, and in August Cromwell, with his son-in-law Ireton, landed near Dublin in order to suppress the insurrection. Before the month of May in the following year (1650) the Papists and Royalists there were entirely subdued. In Scotland a more determined effort was made to support the claims of Charles, and in the spring of the same year Montrose again made his appearance, crossing over from the Continent as the precursor of the prince, and landing at the Orkneys with a few hundred foreign soldiers. He disembarked at Caithness, intending once more to eo to the Highlands and call his former followers to his aid; but the Presby- terians had had enough of him and were on the alert. The Committee of Estates had appointed Strachan as their general, and though they were Royalists they regarded the guerilla chief as an enemy. Montrose had scarcely gone beyond the pass of Invercarron when Strachan fell upon him and completely defeated him, so that he could only escape for his life, leaving behind cloak, star, sword, and the garter which had just been bestowed upon him. He was taken at last through the treachery of an old friend with whom he sought an asylum, but who shamefully betrayed him to the Covenanters. Bound with ropes like a wild beast he was conveyed to -Edinburgh, where, on a former attainder, sentence of death was speedily passed upon him, and he was hanged on a gallows 40 feet high. Montrose was only thirty-eight years old when he thus came to the end of a career, which, for courage and THK ESCAPE OF CHARLES II. l8i adroitness in war, might have gained for him the highest honours had it been regulated by the considerations which influence the conduct of noble men even if they are engaged in a mistaken cause. THE ESCAPE OF CHARLES H. The total defeat of the Scottish Royalists at Dunbar, in September, 1650, was the beginning of the complete victory which was afterwards gained by Cromwell. Charles, who after the battle of Naseby had retired to Scilly and afterwards to Paris, had been proclaimed king in Scotland immediately after his father's execution, and on the 23d of June, 1650, set out for Edinburgh, where he was again pro- claimed on the 15th of July. On the ist of January, 165 1, he was crowned at Scone, but the battle of Dunbar had then been lost by the Scots, and in the following summer Cromwell turned the position of their army at Stirling. Charles, who does not seem to have been wanting in cool personal bravery, then determined to venture marching into England, in the expectation that his friends would flock to his standard ; but the decisive battle of Worcester, Cromwell's " crowning mercy," entirely frustrated this desperate attempt, and after the total rout of his adherents Charles escaped with considerable difficulty. Then began that series of adventures, hair-breadth escapes, disguises, and expedients by which he eluded the vigilance of his " Roundhead " pursuers, and the story of which was just the kind of narrative to enlist the sympathies of the people, and to evoke an admiring sentiment allied to that dramatic interest which we still feel in reading the account of the retreat to Boscobel and the hiding of the fugitive in the "Royal" Oak. After the defeat at Worcester (Sept. 3d, 1651) the king and some of his principal officers fled, intending to pass along the west of England to Scotland; but Charles, who doubted the possi- bility of so large a party making a retreat with safety, proposed to push on to London before the news of the defeat should reach the capital, and so obtain a passage in some vessel bound to France or Holland. 1 82 PICTURES AND KOYAL PORTRAITS. By the time they had reached Kinver Heath, however, it was night, and the guide who was with them declared that he was unable to find the way. This caused no little dismay, but the Earl of Derby told the king that when he had himself been in a similar strait he found refuge and safe concealment in a place on the borders of Staffordshire called Boscobel, upon which, out of the darkness, came the voice of one Charles Gifford, a Roman Catholic Royalist, saying, " I will undertake to guide his majesty to Boscobel before daybreak." Boscobel was in fact Gifford's own mansion, which he had built not long before and fancifully named it after the Italian Boscobello or Fairwood. The offer was at once accepted, and the king, with only a small party of his friends, set out for the promised hiding-place, a very good one for the purpose, since it was in a remote situation far from the ordinary track of passengers, and belonging to a Catholic gentleman, was sure to have been provided with " hiding-places " for priests, who frequently were compelled to have recourse to these priests' holes, which were often entered by traps in the floor of some closet, or by sliding panels in the walls. At the time that Mr. Gifford was at the wars his house was left in charge of a family of peasants named Penderel, who followed the business of wood-cutters, and were simple trustworthy faithful people devoted to their master and the royal cause. By daybreak Charles had reached a house called White Ladies, so named from a ruined convent close by, and also in the possession of the Giffords. Here he was hospitably entertained, and having put on the dress of a peasant was conducted by Richard Penderel to Boscobel after taking leave of his friends, who departed for the north. It was while he was in this district that the king made the acquaintance of Father Huddlestone, a priest who assisted him in his efforts to escape, and from whom he took the sacrament when he was on his death-bed, after he had solemnly declared himself to be a member of the Romish Church. Though in the woodland retreat but few amusements and little society could be found, it was a place of compara- tive safety — a roomy half-timbered building, with a central turret of brickwork and timber forming the entrance stair. A small portion of the wood was cleared around it for a little inclosed garden, having a few flower-beds in front of the house and. an artificial " mount " with a summer house upon it, reached by a flight of steps. Here Charles sat during the only Sunday he passed at Boscobel. Blount says, " His THE ESCAPE OF CHARLES 11. 1 83 Majesty spent some part of this Lord's-day in reading, in a pretty arbour in Boscobel garden, which grew upon a mount, and wherein was a stone table and seats about it, and commended the place for its retiredness.'" Charles did not rest very tranquilly at Boscobel. He was anxious to get to London, and soon after he had reached his place of refuge, determined to set out on foot in a country fellow's habit with a pair of ordinary gray cloth breeches, a leathern doublet, and green jerkin, taking no one with him but trusty Dick Penderel, as one of the brothers was called. Scarcely had they reached the edge of the wood, however, than they were nearly being discovered by a troop of Round- heads, who were passing in the neighbourhood, and from whom they were obliged to hide in the thicket all day during a drenching rain. This experience caused the king to alter his plan and to attempt to reach the Severn, and so to embark for France from one of the Welsh seaports. They started again at midnight on this new journey; but the country was difficult, and Oliver's troops were so alert that the danger was too great to be encountered, and they returned to Boscobel to find Colonel William Careless, who had arrived after escaping from Worcester fight, where he had been one of the last on the field. It being Sunday the king kept in the house or amused himself by reading in the close "arbour in the little garden, and the next day he took the colonel's advice to get up into a great oak which was situated in the wood, to which access was gained by a gate at the back of the arbour. The oak (says Charles) was " in a pretty plain place where we might see round about us. ... A great oak that had been lopped some 3 or 4 years before, and being grown out again very bushy and thick could not be seen throuo-h." It was about a bowshot from the house, and there the king and the colonel stayed the whole day, having taken up with them some bread and cheese and small beer, the colonel having a pillow placed on his knees that the king might rest his head on it as he sat among the branches. The retreat at Boscobel was growing unsafe, for while they sat there in the tree they saw the troopers beating the woods on the look- out for escaped prisoners; and at midnight the king again set out and reached the house of Mr. Whitgrave at Mosely. On the following day he went to Colonel Lanfc's house at Bently and thence commenced the journey which has formed the subject of our historical picture. ' Chambers' Book of Days. 184 PICTURES AND ROYAL PORTRAITS. Disguised as a serving-man, he set out to ride towards Bristol, with Colonel Lane's sister behind him on a pillion, in the character of a comely country lass. It was an expedition which required no little nerve and coolness, for the Roundheads were all about the country, and more than once there was imminent peril of the homely servitor and his fair charge being arrested. On one occasion, in order to avoid direct collision with the troops, the king was obliged to put the horse through a brook, and after all attempts he could not get far on the journey. The courage and address of his fair companion saved him from detection; but he was compelled to abandon the route he had chosen, and again to seek a refuge whence he might make another attempt. At last, after lying hidden as long as his patience would permit, he again essayed to escape, and after many misadventures and much uncertainty contrived to reach Shoreham in Sussex, where he obtained a vessel which carried him across to Fecamp in Normandy. END OF VOLUME I. GLASGOW : \V. G. 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