BIB FRANCIS DRAKE.
 
 flDafeers of Distort 
 
 Queen Elizabeth 
 
 BY 
 
 JACOB ABBOTT 
 
 WITH ENGRAVINGS 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 1904
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
 eight hundred and forty-nine, by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District 
 of New York. 
 
 Copyright, 1876, by JACOB ABBOTT.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE author of this series has made it his spe- 
 cial object to confine himself very strictly, even 
 in the most minute details which he records, to 
 historic truth. The narratives are not tales 
 founded upon history, but history itself, with- 
 out any embellishment or any deviations from 
 the strict truth, so far as it can now be discov- 
 ered by an attentive examination of the annals 
 written at the time when the events them- 
 selves occurred. In writing the narratives, 
 the author has endeavored to avail himself of 
 the best sources of information which this 
 country affords ; and though, of course, there 
 must be in these volumes, as in all historical 
 accounts, more or less of imperfection and er- 
 ror, there is no intentional embellishment. 
 Nothing is stated, not even the most minute
 
 Till P B E F A B. 
 
 and apparently imaginary details, without what 
 was deemed good historical authority. The 
 readers, therefore, may rely upon the record 
 as the truth, and nothing but the truth, so far 
 as an honest purpose and a careful examina 
 tion have been effectual in ascertaining it.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Cuptcr Fig* 
 
 i. ELIZABETH'S MOTHER 13 
 
 II. THE CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS 39 
 
 III. LADY JANE GREY 57 
 
 IV. THE SPANISH MATCH 81 
 
 V. ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 100 
 
 VI. ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 120 
 
 VII. THE WAR IN SCOTLAND 141 
 
 viii. ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 161 
 
 IX. PERSONAL CHARACTER 187 
 
 X. THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 208 
 
 XI. THE EARL OF ESSEX 232 
 
 XII. THE CONCLUSION . . . 260
 
 ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF DRAKE... Ft oritl.vpiece. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF HENRY VIII 16 
 
 PORTRAIT OF ANNE BOLE YN 20 
 
 GROUP OF CHRISTENING GIFTS 25 
 
 TOWER OF LONDON 31 
 
 PORTRAIT OK KDWARD VI. 44 
 
 LADY JANE GREY AT STUDY 63 
 
 PORTRAIT OP PHILIP OF SPAIN 84 
 
 ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER 112 
 
 ELIZABETH'S PROGRESS TO LONDON 135 
 
 THE FRITH OF FORTH, WITH LEITH AND EDINBURGH 
 
 IN THE DISTANCE 156 
 
 LEICESTER 169 
 
 THE BARGES ON THE RIVER. 182 
 
 PORTRAIT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH 203 
 
 THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 229 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE EARL OF ESSEX 242 
 
 ELIZABETH IN HER LAST HOURS 270 
 
 BEAD OF JAMES I 275 
 
 ELIZABETH'S TOMB.. . 279
 
 QflEEN ELIZABETH 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 
 
 areenwich. The hospital 
 
 FT1RAVELERS, in ascending the Thames 
 -*- by the steamboat from Rotterdam, on 
 their return from an excursion to the Rhine, 
 have often their attention strongly attracted by 
 what appears to be a splendid palace on the 
 banks of the river at Greenwich. The edifice 
 is not a palace, however, but a hospital, or, 
 rather, a retreat where the worn out, maimed, 
 and crippled veterans of the English navy spend 
 the remnant of their days in comfort and peace, 
 on pensions allowed them by the government in 
 whose service they have spent their strength 
 or lost their limbs. The magnificent buildings 
 of the hospital stand on level land near the river. 
 Behind them there is a beautiful park, which 
 extends over the undulating and rising ground 
 in the rear ; and on the summit of one of the 
 eminence? there is the Camous Greenwich Ob>
 
 14 QUBBN ELIZABKTH [153A 
 
 ttroeowich OtMerratory. Mmnnr of taking ttm* 
 
 Borvatory, on the precision of whose quadrant* 
 and micrometers depend those calculations by 
 which the navigation of the world is guided. 
 The most unconcerned and careless spectator 
 w interested in the manner in which the ships 
 which throng the river all the way from G reen- 
 wich to London, " take their time" from this 
 observatory before setting sail for distant seas. 
 From the top of a cupola surmounting the edi- 
 fice, a slender pole ascends, with a black ball upon 
 it, so constructed as to slide up and down for a 
 few feet upon the pole. When the hour of 12 M. 
 approaches, the ball slowly rises to within a few 
 inches of the top, warning the ship-masters in 
 the river to be ready with their chronometers, 
 to observe and note the precise instant of its 
 fall. When a few seconds only remain of the 
 time, the ball ascends the remainder of the dis- 
 tance by a very deliberate motion, and then 
 drops suddenly when the instant arrives. The 
 ihips depart on their several destinations, and 
 or months afterward whun thousands of miiee 
 iway they depend for their safety in dark and 
 stormy nights, and among dangerous reefs and 
 rocky shores, on the nice approximation to oor 
 reotness in the note of time which this descend 
 ing ball had given them.
 
 POMRATT OF HEN** VIII.
 
 1533.] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 17 
 
 Henry the Eighth. Hi* character. His six wtra*. 
 
 This is Greenwich, as it exists at the present 
 Jay. At the time when the events occurred 
 which are to be related in this narrative, it was 
 most known on account of a royal palace which 
 was situated there. This palace was the resi- 
 dence of the then queen consort of England. 
 The king reigning at that time was Henry the 
 Eighth. He was an unprincipled -^d cruel 
 tyrant, and the chief business of his mo seem- 
 ed to be selecting and marrying new queens, 
 making room for each succeeding one by dis- 
 carding, divorcing, or beheading her predeces- 
 sor. There were six of them in all, and, with 
 one exception, the history of each one is a dis- 
 tinct and separate, but dreadful tragedy. A* 
 there were so many of them, and they figured 
 as queens each for so short a period, they are 
 commonly designated in history by their per- 
 sonal family names, and even in these names 
 there is a great similarity. There were three 
 Catharines, two Annes, and a Jane. The only 
 one who lived and died in peace, respected and 
 beloved to the end, was the Jane. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, the subject of this narra- 
 tive, was the daughter of the second wife in thi* 
 ftrange succession, and her mother was one of 
 th Annes. Her name in full was Anne Bs>- 
 262
 
 18 QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 Anne Boleyn. Catharine of Aragon. Henry discard* bar 
 
 leyn. She was young and very beautiful, and 
 Henry, to prepare the way for making her his 
 wife, divorced his first queen, or rather declared 
 ins marriage with her null and void, because 
 he had been, before he married her, the wife 
 of his brother. Her name was Catharine of 
 Aragon. She was, while connected with him, 
 a faithful, true, and affectionate wife. She was 
 a Catholic. The Catholic rules are very strict 
 in respect to the marriage of relatives, and a 
 special dispensation from the pope was neces- 
 sary to authorize marriage in such a case as 
 that of Henry and Catharine. This dispensa- 
 tion had, however, been obtained, and Catharine 
 had, in reliance upon it, consented to become 
 Henry's wife. When, however, she was no 
 longer young and beautiful, and Henry had be- 
 come enamored of Anne Boleyn, who was so, 
 he discarded Catharine, and espoused the beau- 
 tiful girl in her stead. He wished the pope to 
 annul his dispensation, which would, of course, 
 annul the marriage ; and because the pontiff 
 refused, and all the efforts of Henry's govern- 
 ment were unavailing to move him, he aban- 
 doned the Catholic faith, and established an in- 
 dependent Protestant church in England, whose 
 supreme authority would annul the marriaga
 
 PORTRAIT OF ANNE HOLEYN.
 
 1533.] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 21 
 
 Origin of the Engfoh Church. Henry marie* Anna Boleyn 
 
 Thus, in a great measure, came the Reforma 
 tion in England. The Catholics reproach u, 
 and, it must be confessed, with some justice, 
 with the ignominiousness of its origin. 
 
 The course which things thus took created a 
 great deal of delay in the formal annulling of 
 the marriage with Catharine, which Henry was 
 too impatient and imperious to bear. He would 
 not wait for the decree of divorce, but took Anne 
 Boleyn for his wife before his previous connec- 
 tion was made void. He said he was privately 
 married to her. This he had, as he maintained, 
 a right to do, for he considered his first mar- 
 riage as void, absolutely and of itself, without 
 any decree. When, at length, the decree was 
 finally passed, he brought Anne Boleyn forward 
 as his queen, and introduced her as such to En- 
 gland and to the world by a genuine marriage 
 and a most magnificent coronation. The peo- 
 ple of England pitied poor Catharine, but they 
 joined very cordially, notwithstanding, in wel- 
 coming the youthful and beautiful lady who 
 was to take her place. All London gave itself 
 up to festivities and rejoicings on the occasion 
 of these nuptials. Immediately after this th 
 young queen retired to her palace in Greenwich, 
 and in two or three months afterward bttla
 
 22 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1533 
 
 Blrtk of Ellbcih. Ceremony of chrijtenin$ 
 
 Elizabeth was born. Her birth-day was the 
 7th of September, 1533. 
 
 The mother may have loved the babe, but 
 Henry himself was sadly disappointed that his 
 child was not a son. Notwithstanding her sex, 
 however, she was a personage of great distinc- 
 tion from her very birth, as all the realm looked 
 upon her as heir to the crown. Henry was 
 himself, at this time, very fond of Anne Bo- 
 leyn, though his. feelings afterward were entire- 
 ly changed. He determined on giving to the 
 infant a very splendid christening. The usage 
 hi the Church of England is to make the chris- 
 tening of a child not merely a solemn religious 
 ceremony, but a great festive occasion of con- 
 gratulations and rejoicing. The unconscious 
 subject of the ceremony is taken to the church. 
 Certain near and distinguished friends, gentle- 
 men and ladies, appear as godfathers and god- 
 mothers, as they are termed, to the child. They, 
 in the ceremony, are considered as presenting 
 tho infant for consecration to Christ, and as be. 
 coming responsible for its future initiation into 
 tho Christian faith. They are hence sometimes 
 called sponsors. These sponsors are supposed 
 to take, from the time of the baptism forward, 
 * strong interest in all that pertains to the wo*
 
 1533.] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 23 
 
 Baptism of Elizabeth. 
 
 fare of their little oharge, and they usually man- 
 ifest this interest by presents -on the day of the 
 christening. These things are all conducted 
 with considerable ceremony and parade in ordi- 
 nary oases, occurring in private life ; and when 
 a princess is to be baptized, all, even the most 
 minute details of the ceremony, assume a great 
 importance, and the whole soene becomes one 
 of great pomp and splendor. 
 
 The babe, in this case, was conveyed to the 
 church in a grand procession. The mayor and 
 other 3ivio authorities in London came down 
 to Greenwich in barges, tastefully ornamented, 
 to join in the ceremony The lords and ladies 
 of King Henry's court were also there, in at- 
 tendance at the palace. When all were assem- 
 bled, and every thing was ready, the procession 
 moved from the palace to the church with great 
 pomp. The road, all the way, was carpeted 
 with green rushes, spread upon the ground. 
 Over this road the little infant was borne by 
 ne of her godmothers. She was wrapped in 
 a mantle of purple velvet, with a long train aj> 
 pended to it, which was trimmed with ermine, 
 a very costly kind of fur, used in England as a 
 badge of authority. This train was borne by 
 lords and ladies of high rank, who were appoint-
 
 94 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1533 
 
 Tr*im-bearer. The church. The rilTor fom 
 
 cd for the purpose by the king, and who deemed 
 their office a very distinguished honor. Besides 
 these train-bearers, there were four lords, who 
 walked two on each side of tne child, and who 
 held over her a magnificent canopy. Other per- 
 sonages of high rank and station followed, bear- 
 ing various insignia and emblems, such as by 
 the ancient customs of England are employed 
 on these occasions, and all dressed sumptuous- 
 ly in gorgeous robes, and wearing the badges* 
 and decorations pertaining to their rank or the 
 offices they held. Vast crowds of spectators 
 lined the way, and gazed upon the scene. 
 
 On arriving at the church, they found the in- 
 terior splendidly decorated for the occasion. Its 
 walls were lined throughout with tapestry, and 
 in the center was a crimson canopy, under which 
 was placed a large silver font, containing the 
 water with which the child was to be baptized. 
 The ceremony was performed by Cranmer, the 
 archbishop of Canterbury, which is the office 
 of the highest dignitary of the English Church 
 After it was performed, the procession returned 
 as it came, only now there was an addition of 
 four persons of high rank, who followed the child 
 with the presents intended for her by the god- 
 fathers and godmothers. These presents con-
 
 1533.J ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 27 
 
 rhe presonte. Name of the Infant princeM 
 
 isted of cups and bowls, of beautiful workman- 
 hip, some of silver gilt, and some of solid gold. 
 They were very costly, though not prized much 
 yet by the unconscious infant for whom they 
 were intended. She went and came, in the 
 midst of this gay and joyous procession, little 
 imagining into what a restless and unsatisfying 
 life all this pageantry and splendor were usher- 
 ing her. 
 
 They named the child Elizabeth, from her 
 grandmother. There have been many queens 
 of that name, but Queen Elizabeth of England 
 became so much more distinguished than any 
 other, that that name alone has become her usu- 
 al designation. Her family name was Tudor. 
 As she was never married for, though her life 
 was one perpetual scene of matrimonial scheme* 
 and negotiations, she lived and died a maiden 
 lady she has been sometimes called the Virgin 
 Queen, and one of the states of this Union, Vir- 
 ginia, receives its name from this designation 
 of Elizabeth. She is also often familiarly called 
 Queen Bess. 
 
 Making little Elizabeth presents of go.d and 
 silver plate, and arranging splendid pageants 
 for her, were not the only plans for her aggran- 
 dizement which were formed during the period
 
 28 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1536 
 
 DiMbeth made Prince** of Wale*. Matrimonial scheme* 
 
 of her infantile unconsciousness. The king, her 
 father, first had an act of Parliament passed. 
 solemnly recognizing and confirming her claim 
 as heir to the crown, and the title of Princess of 
 Wales was formally conferred upon her. When 
 these things were done, Henry began to consid- 
 er how he could best promote his own political 
 schemes by forming an engagement of marriage 
 for her, and, when she was only about two years 
 of age, he offered her to the King of France as 
 the future wife of one of his sons, on certain 
 conditions of political service which he wished 
 him to perform. But the King of France would 
 not accede to the terms, and so this plan was 
 abandoned. Elizabeth was, however, notwith- 
 standing this failure, an object of universal in- 
 terest and attention, as the daughter of a very 
 powerful monarch, and the heir to his crown. 
 Her life opened with very bright and serene 
 prospects of future greatness ; but all these pros- 
 pects were soon apparently cut off by a very 
 heavy cloud which arose to darken her sky. 
 This cloud was the sudden and dreadful fall 
 and ruin of her mother. 
 
 Queen Anne Boleyn was originally a maid 
 of honor to Quoen Catharine, and became ac- 
 quainted with King Henry and gained his af-
 
 1536.] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. US 
 
 Jane DUJMMM The toanuunmt The klng'i tuip toot 
 
 fections while she was acting in that capacity 
 When she became queen herself, she had, of 
 course, her own maids of honor, and among 
 them was one named Jane Seymour. Jane 
 was a beautiful and accomplished lady, and in 
 the end she supplanted her mistress and queen 
 in Henry's affections, just as Anne herself had 
 supplanted Catharine. The king had removed 
 Catharine to make way for Anne, by annulling 
 his marriage with her on account of their rela- 
 tionship: what way could he contrive now to 
 remove Anne, so as to make way for Jane ? 
 
 He began to entertain, or to pretend to en- 
 tertain, feelings of jealousy and suspicion that 
 Anne was unfaithful to him. One day, at a 
 sort of tournament in the park of the royal pal- 
 ace at Greenwich, when a great crowd of gayly- 
 dressed ladies and gentlemen were assembled 
 to witness the spectacle, the queen dropped her 
 handkerchief. A gentleman whom the king had 
 suspected of being one of her favorites picked it 
 p. He did not immediately restore it to her 
 There was, besides, something in the air and 
 manner of the gentleman, and in the attendant 
 circumstances of the case, which the king's mind 
 seized upon as evidence of criminal gallantry 
 between the parties. He was, or at least
 
 30 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1536. 
 
 Qmeen Anne arrested. She U *nt to the Towe*. 
 
 tended to be, in a great rage. He left the field 
 immediately and went to London. The tour* 
 naraent was broken up in confusion, the queen 
 was seized by the king's orders, conveyed to her 
 palace in Greenwich, and shut up in her cham- 
 ber, with a lady who had always been her rival 
 and enemy to guard her. She was in great 
 consternation and sorrow, but she declared most 
 solemnly that she was innocent of any crime, 
 and had always been true and faithful to the 
 king. 
 
 The next day she was taken from her palace 
 at Greenwich up the river, probably in a barge 
 well guarded by armed men, to the Tower of 
 London. The Tower is an ancient and very ex- 
 tensive castle, consisting of a great number of 
 buildings inclosed within a high wall. It is in 
 the lower part of London, on the bank of the 
 Thames, with a flight of stairs leading down to 
 the river from a great postern gate. The un- 
 happy queen was landed at these stairs and con- 
 veyed into the castle, and shut up in a gloomy 
 apartment, with walls of stone and windowt 
 barricaded with strong bars of iron. There 
 were four or five gentlemen, attendants upon 
 the queen in her palace at Greenwich, whore 
 the king suspected, or pretended to suspect, r.f
 
 1536.J ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 33 
 
 Bufferiag8 of the queen. Her mental di*tre* 
 
 being her accomplices in crime, that were ar- 
 rested at the same time with her and closely 
 confined. 
 
 When the poor queen was introduced into 
 her dungeon, she fell on her knees, and, in an 
 agony of terror and despair, she implored God 
 to help her in this hour of her extremity, and 
 most solemnly called him to witness that she 
 was innocent of the crime imputed to her charge 
 Seeking thus a refuge in God calmed and com- 
 posed her in some small degree ; but when, 
 again, thoughts of the imperious and implacable 
 temper of her husband came over her, of the 
 impetuousness of his passions, of the certainty 
 that he wished her removed out of the way in 
 order that room might be made for her rival, 
 and then, when her distracted mind turned to 
 the forlorn and helpless condition of her little 
 daughter Elizabeth, now scarcely three years 
 old, her fortitude and self-possession forsook her 
 entirely ; she sank half insane upon her bed, in 
 long and uncontrollable paroxysms of sobs and 
 tears, alternating with still more uncontroJL* 
 able and frightful bursts of hysterical laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 The king sent a commission to take her ax- 
 tminatkm. At the same time, he ureed her. 
 
 263
 
 34 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1536 
 
 on of Anne. Her letter to the Ua 
 
 by the persons whom he sent, to confess hot 
 guilt, promising her that, if she did so, her life 
 should be spared. She, however, protested her 
 innocence with the utmost firmness and con- 
 rtancy . She begged earnestly to be allowed tt 
 see the king, and, when this was refused, she 
 wrote a letter to him, which still remains, and 
 which expresses very strongly the acuteness >f 
 her mental sufferings. 
 
 In this letter, she said that she was so dis- 
 tressed and bewildered by the king's displeas- 
 ure and her imprisonment, that she hardly 
 knew what to think or to say. She assured 
 him that she had always been faithful and true 
 to him, and begged that he would not cast an 
 indelible stain upon her own fair fame and that 
 of her innocent and helpless child by such un- 
 just and groundless imputations. She begged 
 him to let her have a fair trial by impartial per- 
 sons, who would weigh the evidence against her 
 in a just and equitable manner. She was sure 
 that by this course her innocence would be es- 
 tablished, and he himself, and all mankind, 
 would see that she had been most unjustly ac- 
 cused. 
 
 But if, on the other hand, she added, the king 
 had determined on her destruction, in order t*
 
 1536.] ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 35 
 
 Aaoe't tHo w-prLsonr. They re executed. 
 
 remove an obstacle in the way of his possession 
 of a new object of love, she prayed that God 
 would forgive him and all her enemies for BO 
 great a sin, and not call him to account for it 
 at the last day. She urged him, at all events, 
 to spare the lives of the four gentlemen who 
 d been accused, as she assured him they were 
 oily innocent of the crime laid to their charge, 
 begging him, if he had ever loved the name of 
 Anne Boleyn, to grant this her last request. 
 She signed her letter his " most loyal and ever 
 faithful wife," and dated it from her " doleful 
 prison in the Tower." 
 
 The four gentlemen were promised that their 
 lives should be spared if they would confess their 
 guilt. One of them did, accordingly, admit his 
 guilt, and the others persisted to the end in firm- 
 ly denying it. They who think Anne Boleyn 
 was innocent, suppose that the one who con- 
 fessed did it as the most likely mode of avert- 
 ing destruction, as men have often been known, 
 under the influence of fear, to confess crimes 
 of which it was afterward proved they could 
 not have been guilty. If this was his motive, 
 it was of no avail. The four persons accused, 
 after a very informal trial, in which nothing waa 
 really proved against tbem, were condemned.
 
 36 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1536 
 
 Anna tried and condemned. She protects her innoceno* 
 
 apparently to please the king, and were execu- 
 ted together. 
 
 Three days after this the queen herself wa 
 brought to trial before the peers. The number 
 of peers of the realm in England at this time 
 was fifty-three. Only twenty-six were present 
 at the trial. The king is charged with making 
 such arrangements as to prevent the attendance 
 of those who would be unwilling to pass sen- 
 tence of condemnation. At any rate, those who 
 did attend professed to be satisfied of the guilt 
 of the accused, and they sentenced her to be 
 burned, or to be beheaded, at the pleasure of the 
 king. He decided that she should be beheaded. 
 
 The execution was to take place in a little 
 green area within the Tower. The platform 
 was erected here, and the block placed upon it, 
 the whole being covered with a black cloth, as 
 usual on such occasions. On the morning of 
 the fatal day, Anne sent for the constable of 
 the Tower to come in and receive her dying 
 protestations that she was innocent of the crimed 
 alleged against her. She told him that she un- 
 derstood that she was not to die until 12 o'clock, 
 and that she was sorry for it, for she wished to 
 have it over. The constable told her the pain 
 would be very slight and momentary. " Yes,"
 
 1536.] -ELIZABETH'S MOTHER. 37 
 
 lime's execution. Disposition of the body 
 
 he rejoined, " I am told that a very skillful 
 executioner is provided, and my neck is very 
 slender." 
 
 At the appointed hour she was led out into 
 the court-yard where the execution was to take 
 place. There were about twenty persons pres- 
 ent, all officers of state or of the city of London. 
 The bodily suffering attendant upon the execu- 
 tion was very soon over, for the slender neck 
 was severed at a single blow, and probably all 
 sensibility to pain immediately ceased. Stiil, 
 the lips and the eyes were observed to move 
 and quiver for a few seconds after the separa- 
 tion of the head from the body. It was a relief, 
 however, to the spectators when this strange 
 and unnatural prolongation of the mysterious 
 functions of life came to an end. 
 
 No coffin had been provided. They found, 
 however, an old wooden chest, made to contain 
 arrows, lying in one of the apartments of the 
 tower, which they used instead. They first 
 laid the decapitated trunk within it, and then 
 adjusted the dissevered head to its place, as if 
 vainly attempting to repair the irretrievable in- 
 jury they had done. They hurried the body, 
 thus enshrined, to its burial in a chapel, which 
 was al*o within the tower, doing all with snob
 
 38 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1536 
 
 The king's brutality. Elizabeth'! forlorn eondltkn. 
 
 dispatch that the whole was finished before the 
 clock struck twelve ; and the next day the un 
 feeling monster who was the author oTthis dread- 
 ful deed was publicly married to his new favor- 
 ite, Jane Seymour. 
 
 The king had not merely procured Anne's 
 personal condemnation ; he had also obtained a 
 decree annulling his marriage with her, on the 
 ground of her having been, as he attempted 
 to prove, previously affianced to another man 
 This was, obviously, a mere pretense. The ob- 
 ject was to cut off Elizabeth's rights to inherit 
 the crown, by making his marriage with her 
 mother void. Thus was the little princess left 
 motherless and friendless when only three years 
 old.
 
 1536.] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 39 
 
 Oinbetb'i condition at the death of her mother. Her rddeno 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 THE CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 
 
 71 LIZ ABE TH was about three years old at 
 ^ the death of her mother. She was a prin- 
 cess, but she was left in a very forlorn and des- 
 olate condition. She was not, however, entirely 
 abandoned. Her claims to inherit the crown 
 had been set aside, but then she was, as all ad- 
 mitted, the daughter of the king, and she must, 
 of course, be the object of a certain degree of 
 consideration and ceremony. It would be en- 
 tirely inconsistent with the notions of royal dig- 
 nity which then prevailed to have her treated 
 like an ordinary child. 
 
 She had a residence assigned her at a place 
 called Hunsdon, and was put under the charge 
 of a governess whose name was Lady Bryan. 
 There is an ancient letter from Lady Bryan, 
 still extant, which was written to one of the 
 king's officers about Elizabeth, explaining her 
 destitute condition, and asking for a more suit- 
 able supply for her wants. It may entertain 
 the reader to see this relic, which not only Ulan-
 
 40 qi KEN ELIZABETH. [1536 
 
 Letter of Lady Bryan, Elizabeth'* goremeM. 
 
 trates our little heroine's condition, but also 
 shows how great the changes are which our lan- 
 guage has undergone within the last three hund 
 red years. The letter, as here given, is abridg- 
 >i a little from the original : 
 
 f H n Z.orti : 
 
 tSSJbeit rout Jlortislfp teas last firre, ft pleaseo 
 jicu to ai? tbat I- sljoulti not be mfstrustful of tbe HI fug's 
 Grace, not of ijour JLovtisfjfp, U)ljicj) tuorti tons of great com- 
 fort to me, anU emboltienetb me noto to speak m% poor mfnti. 
 
 Xuto so (t fs, mi> Horti, tbat mi; Hatij Elijabttf) fs put 
 from ttje tiegree sbe teas afore, anti tobat tJegree ste (s at 
 noto* fi fenoto not but bj? bearsap. Cberefore K fenoto not 
 boto to orUer ter, nor mjself, nor none of bers tbat t babt 
 tbe rule of tbat fs, ber toomen anti ber grooms. But fi be* 
 seecb pott to be goot), mn Uorti, to ber anti to all bers, anti to 
 let ber babe some ragment ; for sbe bas neftber goton, not 
 kfrtle, nor no manner of Ifnen, nor foresmocfes, nor feerctfefs, 
 nor sleebes, nor rafls, nor botijstftcbets, nor mufflers, nor 
 dfggfns. &ll tbese ber (Grace's toants S babe tirfben off as 
 long as 5 can, bj m trotb, but JJ can not am? longer. 33e 
 seecbfng von, mn Horti, tbat ijou tufll see tijat l)er (T.ract 
 mag tabe tbat fs neetiful for ber, anti tbat 5 maj fenoto from 
 gou, fn torftfng, boto I- sljall ortier mrself totoartis ber, anti 
 tobateber fs tte ISfng's race's pleasure anti jours, fn eberj 
 ttfng, tbat fi sball tio. 
 
 ffSLy lorti ^Hr. Sbelton tooulti babe mg Hatip fSlfjabtt| 
 to tifne anti sup at tbe boarti of estate. Silas, mn Horti, ft 
 (s not meet for a cbflti of ber age to keep sucb rule j?et. X 
 pronxfse 500, mv Horti, S tiare not tafee upon me to fteej 
 
 * Tbat is, in what light the king and the government wish 
 to have her regarded, and how they wish her to be treated
 
 1536] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 41 
 
 Conclusion of letter. Tremble* and trial* of lufanej 
 
 tier (n Dealt!) anti stoe fteep tfcat role ; for tbere sbe *tiall stt 
 Others meats, ant) fruits, anD tufnes, tobfci) tooulti be bart 
 tor me to restrain ber Cfrace from ft You fenoto, mj ILottJ, 
 tbere Is no place of correction* tbere, anti stoe (s net too 
 gating to correct greatlj. B knoin toell, anti stos be tfcere, X 
 fcall ntbrr bring ber up to tj>e Sing's Grace's bonor nor 
 hers, nor to ber bcaltlj, nor HIP poor bonestg. SJt'ljeretore. 
 X beseecb vu, mv HorO, tbat mr ILaDi) maij tabe a mess 
 of meat to ber oturt lotiglng, biltb a gooD titsb or Uno tbat Is 
 meet for ber (Grace to eat of. 
 
 fH HaUj batb Itfeetolse great pain toftft ber teetft, anD 
 tbcij come berg slotoln fovti), anti tbls causetl) me to suffer 
 ber (Grace to babe ber tofll more tban 5 tooulTi. 5 trust to 
 ffioD, anti ber teetb toere toell graft, to tate ber 5race after 
 anotber fasbfou tfian ste Is jet, so as trust tbe Sing's 
 Grace stall babe great comfort (n ber Grace ; for sbe Is as 
 totoarH a cbflU, anti as gentle of eon&Ittons, as eber 5 fcneto 
 an? In ms life. JJesu preserbe feer race. 
 
 Gooti mi; Hort), babe m Hatn/s Grace, anti us ttiat be 
 Drr poor servants, In your remembrance. 
 
 This letter evinces that strange mixture of 
 state and splendor with discomfort and destitu- 
 tion, which prevailed very extensively in royal 
 households in those early times. A part of the 
 privation which Elizabeth seems, from this let 
 ter, to have endured, was doubtless owing to the 
 rough manners of the day ; but there is no doubt 
 that she was also, at least for a time, in a neg 
 lected and forsaken condition. The new queen, 
 Jane Seymour, who succeeded Elizabeth's moth- 
 
 That is, opportunity for correction
 
 42 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1540 
 
 BMh at Kdwwd. The king reconciled to hi* daughter* 
 
 er, had a son a year or two after her marriage. 
 He was named Edward. Thus Henry had 
 three children, Mary, Elizabeth, and Edward, 
 each one the child of a different wife ; and the 
 last of them, the son, appears to have monopo- 
 lized, for a time, the king's affection and care. 
 
 Still, the hostility which the king had felt for 
 these queens in succession was owing, as has 
 been already said, to his desire to remove them 
 out of his way, that he might be at liberty to 
 marry again; and so, after the mothers were, 
 one after another, removed, the hostility itself, 
 00 far as the children were concerned, gradually 
 subsided, and the king began to look both upon 
 Mary and Elizabeth with favor again. He 
 even formed plans for marrying Elizabeth to 
 persons of distinction in foreign countries, and 
 he entered into some negotiations for this pur- 
 pose. He had a decree passed, too, at last, re- 
 versing the sentence by which the two princess- 
 9A were cut off from an inheritance of the crown. 
 Thus they were restored, during their father 7 ! 
 life, to their proper rank as royal princesses. 
 
 At last the king died in 1547, leaving only 
 these three children, each one the child of a dif- 
 ferent wife. Mary was a maiden lady, of about 
 thirty-one years of age. She was a stern, an*
 
 PORTRAIT OF EDWARD VI.
 
 1545.] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 44 
 
 Death of King Henry. HU children 
 
 tere, hard-hearted woman, whom nobody loved 
 She was the daughter of King Henry's first wife, 
 Catharine of Aragon, and, like her mother, wa* 
 i decided Catholic. 
 
 Next came Elizabeth, who was about four- 
 teen years of age. She was the daughter of 
 the king's second wife, Queen Anne Boleyn. 
 She had been educated a Protestant. She waa 
 not pretty, but was a very lively and sprightly 
 child, altogether different in her cast of charac- 
 ter and in her manners from her sister Mary. 
 
 Then, lastly, there was Edward, the son of 
 Jane Seymour, the third queen. He was about 
 nine years of age at his father's death. He was 
 a boy of good character, mild and gentle in his 
 disposition, fond of study and reflection, and a 
 general favorite with all who knew him. 
 
 It was considered in those days that a king 
 might, in some sense, dispose of his crown by 
 will, just as, at the present time, a man may 
 bequeath his house or his farm. Of course, 
 there were some limits to this power, and the 
 concurrence of Parliament seems to have leen 
 required to the complete validity of such a set- 
 tlement. King Henry the E ighth , however, h ad 
 little difficulty in carrying any law through Par. 
 liament which he desire 1 to have enacted. It
 
 46 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1547. 
 
 KlBf Heaiys Tioleoee. The order of iocMuwio* 
 
 Is said that, on one occasion, when there was 
 some delay about passing a bill of his, he sent 
 for one of the most influential of the members 
 f the House of Commons to come into his pres- 
 ence The member came and kneeled before 
 him. " Ho, man !" said the king, " and will 
 they not suffer my bill to pass ?" He then came 
 up and put his hand upon the kneeling legisla- 
 tor's head, and added, " Get my bill passed to- 
 morrow, or else by to-morrow this head of yours 
 shall be off." The next day the bill was passed 
 accordingly. 
 
 King Henry, before he died, arranged the or- 
 der of succession to the throne as follows : Ed- 
 ward was to succeed him ; but, as he was a mi- 
 nor, being then only nine years of age, a great 
 council of state, consisting of sixteen persons of 
 the highest rank, was appointed to govern the 
 kingdom in his name until he should be eight- 
 een years of age, when he was to become king 
 in reality as well as in name. In case he 
 should die without heirs, then Mary, his old- 
 est sister, was to succeed him ; and if she died 
 without heirs, then Elizabeth was to succeed 
 her. This arrangement went into full effect. 
 The council governed the kingdom in Edward'i 
 name until he was sixteen years of age, when
 
 1547.J CHILDHOOD OK A PRINCESS. 4? 
 
 Elizabeth's trouble* The two Sejmocm 
 
 he died. Then Mary followed, and reigned as 
 queen five years longer, and died without chil- 
 dren, and during all this time Elizabeth held 
 the rank of a princess, exposed to a thousand 
 iifficnlties and dangers from the plots, intrigues, 
 and conspiracies of those about her, in which, 
 on account of her peculiar position and pros 
 pects, she was necessarily involved. 
 
 One of the worst of these cases occurred soon 
 after her father's death. There were two broth- 
 ers of Jane Seymour, who were high in King 
 Henry's favor at the time of his decease The 
 oldest is known in history by his title of the 
 Earl of Hertford at first, and afterward by 
 that of Duke of Somerset. The youngest was 
 called Sir Thomas Seymour. They were both 
 made members of the government which was 
 to administer the affairs of state during young 
 Edward's minority. They were not, however 
 satisfied with any moderate degree of power. 
 Being brothers of Jane Seymour, who was Ed- 
 ward's mother, they were his uncles, of course, 
 and the oldest one soon succeeded in causing 
 himself to be appointed protector. By this of- 
 fice he was, in fact, king, all except in name. 
 
 The younger brother, who was an agreeable 
 and accomplished man, paid his addresses to thf
 
 48 QUEEN ELI&IBETH. [1547 
 
 The qufwa dowager 1 marrfage. The Seymour* quamn 
 
 queen dowager, that is, to the widow whom 
 King Henry left, for the last of his wives was 
 living at the time of his death. She consented 
 to marry him, and the marriage took place al- 
 most immediately after the king's death so 
 won in fact, that it was considered extremely 
 hasty and unbecoming. This queen dowager 
 had two houses left to her, one at Chelsea, and 
 the other at Hanworth, towns some little dis- 
 tance up the river from London. Here she re- 
 sided with her new husband, sometimes at one 
 of the houses, and sometimes at the other. The 
 king had also directed, in his will, that the Prin- 
 cess Elizabeth should be under her care, so that 
 Elizabeth, immediately after her father's death, 
 lived at one or the other of these two houses un- 
 der the care of Seymour, who, from having been 
 her uncle, became now, in some sense, her fa- 
 ther. He was a sort of uncle, for he was the 
 brother of one of her father's wives. He was a 
 sort of father, for he was the husband of anoth- 
 er of them. Yet, really, by blood, there was DO 
 relation between them. 
 
 The two brothers, Somerset and Seymour, 
 quarreled. Each was very ambitious, and rery 
 jealous of the other. Somerset, in addition to 
 being appointed protector by the council, got t
 
 1547.J CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 49 
 
 Somerset'! power and influence. Jealonole* and quarrel* 
 
 grant of power from the young king called a 
 patent. This commission was executed with 
 great formality, and was sealed with the great 
 seal of state, and it made Somerset, in some 
 measure independent of the other nobles whom 
 King Henry had associated with him in the gov- 
 ernment. By this patent he was placed in su- 
 preme command of all the forces by land and 
 sea. He had a seat on the right hand of the 
 throne, under the great canopy of state, and 
 whenever he went abroad on public occasions, 
 he assumed all the pomp and parade which 
 would have been expected in a real king. Young 
 Edward was wholly under his influence, and did 
 always whatever Somerset recommended him to 
 do. Seymour was very jealous ol all this great- 
 ness, and was contriving every means in his 
 power to circumvent and supersede his brother. 
 The wives, too, of these great statesmen quar- 
 reled. The Duchess of Somerset thought she 
 was entitled to the precedence, because she was 
 the wife of the protector, who, being a kind of 
 regent, ^ thought he was entitled to have hi 
 wife considered as a sort of queen. The wife 
 of Seymour, on the other hand, contended that 
 she was entitled to the precedence as a real 
 queen, having been herself the actual consort 
 264
 
 50 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1547 
 
 Mary Queen of Scot* Marriage tcheme* 
 
 of a reigning monarch. The two ladies disput- 
 ed perpetually on this point, which, of course, 
 could never be settled. They enlisted, howev- 
 er, en their respective sides various partisans, 
 producing a grat deal of jealousy and ill will, 
 and increasing the animosity of their husbands. 
 
 All this time the celebrated Mary Queen of 
 Scots was an Infant in Janet Sinclair's arms, 
 at the castle of Stirling, in Scotland. King 
 Henry, during his life, had made a treaty with 
 tho government of Scotland, by which it was 
 agreed that Mary rhculd be married to his son 
 Edward as soon as the two children should have 
 grown to maturity ; but afterward, the govern- 
 ment of Scotland having faMen from Protestant 
 into Catholic hands, they determined that thia 
 match must be given up. The English author- 
 ities were very much incensed. They wished 
 to have the marriage take effect, as it would 
 end in uniting the Scotch and English king- 
 doms ; and the protector, when a time arrived 
 which he thought was favorable for his purpos i, 
 raised an army and marched northward to make 
 war upon Scotland, and compel the Soots fcc 
 fulfill the contract of marriage. 
 
 While his brother was gone to the northward, 
 Sevmoor remained at home, and endeavored, bt
 
 1547.] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 51 
 
 Seymour's promotion. Jane Grey. Family quarrel* 
 
 every means within his reach, to strengthen his 
 own influence and increase his power. He con- 
 trived to obtain from the council of government 
 the office of lord high admiral, which gave him 
 the command of the fleet, and made him, next 
 to his brother, the most powerful and important 
 personage in the realm. He had, besides, as 
 has already been stated, the custody and care 
 of Elizabeth, who lived in his house ; though, 
 as he was a profligate and unprincipled man, 
 this position for the princess, now fast growing 
 up to womanhood, was considered by many per- 
 sons as of doubtful propriety. Still, she was at 
 present only fourteen years old. There was 
 another young lady likewise in his family, a 
 niece of King Henry, and, of course, a second 
 cousin of Elizabeth. Her name was Jane Grey. 
 It was a very unhappy family. The manners 
 and habits of all the members of it, excepting 
 Jane Grey, seem to have been very rude and 
 irregular. The admiral quarreled with his wife ; 
 and was jealous of the very servants who wait* 
 ed upon her. The queen observed somsthirg 
 in the manners of her husband toward the young 
 princess which made her angry both with him 
 and her. Elizabeth resented this, and a violent 
 quarrel ensued, which ended in their separation
 
 02 C^UEEN ELIZABETH. [1548 
 
 Death of the queen dowager. Seymour's chained 
 
 Elizabeth went away, and resided afterward at 
 a place called Hatfield. 
 
 Very soon after this, the queen dowager died 
 uddenly. People accused Seymour, her hus- 
 band, of having poisoned her, in order to make 
 way for the Princess Elizabeth to be his wife. 
 He denied this, but he immediately began to 
 lay his plans for securing the hand of Elizabeth. 
 There was a probability that she might, at some 
 future time, succeed to the crown, and then, if 
 ^e were her husband, he thought he should be 
 the real sovereign, reigning in her name. 
 
 Elizabeth had in her household two persons, 
 a certain Mrs. Ashley, who was then her gov- 
 erness, and a 'man named Parry, who was a sort 
 of treasurer. He was called the cofferer. The 
 admiral gained these persons over to his inter- 
 ests, and, through them, attempted to open 
 communications with Elizabeth, and persuade 
 her to enter into his designs. Of course, the 
 "Whole affair was managed with great secrecy 
 They were all liable to a charge of treason 
 against the government of Edward oy such 
 plots, as his ministers and counselors might 
 maintain that their design was to overthrow Ed- 
 ward's government and make Elizabeth queen 
 They, therefore, were all banded together te
 
 1548] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 53 
 
 Bevmour'e arrest Hia trial and attainder. 
 
 keep their councils secret, and Elizabeth was 
 drawn, in some degree, into the scheme, though 
 precisely how far was never fully known. It 
 was supposed that she began to love Seymour, 
 although he was very much older than herself, 
 and to be willing to become his wife. It is not 
 surprising that, neglected and forsaken as she 
 had been, she should have been inclined to re- 
 gard with favor an agreeable and influential 
 man, who expressed a strong affection for her, 
 and a warm interest in her welfare. 
 
 However this may be, Elizabeth was one 
 day struck with consternation at hearing that 
 Seymour was arrested by order of his brother, 
 who had returned from Scotland and had re- 
 ceived information of his designs, and that he 
 had been committed to the Tower. He had a 
 hurried and irregular trial, or what, in those 
 days, was called a trial. The council went them- 
 selves to the Tower, and had him brought before 
 them and examined. He demanded to have the 
 charges made out in form, and the witnesses 
 confronted with him, but the council were sati. 
 fied of his guilt without these formalities. The 
 Parliament immediately afterward passed a bill 
 of attainder against him, by which he was sen. 
 tenoed to death. His brother, the protector
 
 54 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [154ft 
 
 eyiaov behetded. EUztbetii't trtik 
 
 signed the warrant for his execution, and he 
 was beheaded on Tower Hill. 
 
 The protector sent two messengers in the 
 eonrse of this affair to Elizabeth, to see what 
 fcney could ascertain from her about it. Sir 
 Robert Tyrwhitt was the name of the principal 
 one of these messengers. When the cofferer 
 learned that they were at the gate, he went in 
 great terror into his chamber, and said that he 
 was undone. At the same time, he pulled off a 
 chain from his neck, and the rings from his fin- 
 gers, and threw them away from him with ges- 
 ticulations of despair. The messengers then 
 came to Elizabeth, and told her, falsely as it 
 seems, with a view to frighten her into confes- 
 sions, that Mrs. Ashley and the cofferer were 
 both secured and sent to the Tower. She seem- 
 ed very much alarmed ; she wept bitterly, and 
 it was a long time before she regained her com- 
 posure. She wanted to know whether they 
 had confessed any thing. The protector's mes- 
 sengers would not tell her this, but they urged 
 her to confess herself all that had occurred ; for, 
 whatever it was, they said that the evil and 
 shame would all be ascribed to the other per- 
 sons concerned, and not to her, on account of 
 her youth and inexperience. Bat Elizabeth
 
 1548.] CHILDHOOD OF A PRINCESS. 55 
 
 Elizabeth's firmness. Lady Tyrwhttk 
 
 would confess nothing. The messengers wen* 
 away, convinced, as they said, that she was 
 guilty ; they could see that in her countenance ; 
 fend that her silence was owing to her firm de- 
 termination not to betray her lover. They sent 
 word to the protector that they did not believe 
 that any body would succeed in drawing the 
 least information from her, unless it was the 
 protector, or young King Edward himself 
 
 These mysterious circumstances produced a 
 *omewhat unfavorable impression in regard to 
 Elizabeth, and there were some instances, it was 
 said, of light and trifling behavior between Eliz- 
 abeth and Seymour, while she was in his house 
 during the life-time of his wife. They took 
 place in the presence of Seymour's wife, and 
 seem of no consequence, except to show that 
 dukes and princesses got into frolics sometimes 
 in those days as well as other mortals. People 
 censured Mrs. Ashley for not enjoining a great- 
 er dignity and propriety of demeanor in her 
 young charge, and the government removed her 
 from her place. 
 
 Lady Tyrwhitt, who was the wife of the 
 
 messenger referred to above that was sent to 
 
 examine Elizabeth, was appointed to succeed 
 
 Mrs. Ashley. Elizabeth was very much dis- 
 
 leased at this change. She toJd Lady Tyr-
 
 56 QUKEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 dtoblh'( rafferlnfi. Her fidelity to her Mead* 
 
 whitt that Mrs. Ashley was her mistress, and 
 that she had not done a ay thing to make it nec- 
 essary for the council to put more mistresse* 
 >ver her. Sir Robert wrote to the protector 
 tha* she took the affair so heavily that she 
 " wept all night, and lowered all the next day." 
 He said that her attachment to Mrs. Ashley 
 was very strong ; and that, if any thing were 
 said against the lord admiral, she could not bear 
 to hear it, but took up his defense in the most 
 prompt and eager manner. 
 
 How far it is true that Elizabeth loved the 
 unfortunate Seymour can now never be known 
 There is no doubt, however, but that this whole 
 affair was a very severe trial and affliction to 
 her. It came upon her when she was but four- 
 teen or fifteen years of age, and when she was 
 in a position, as well of an age, which ren- 
 ders the heart acutely sensitive both to the ef- 
 fect of kindness and of injuries. Seymour, by 
 his death, was lost to her forever, and Elizabeth 
 lived in great retirement and seclusion during 
 the remainder of her brother's reign. She did 
 not, however, forget Mrs. Ashley and Parry 
 On her accession to the throne, many years af- 
 terward, she gave them offices very valuable, 
 considering their station in life, and was a trat 
 friend to them both to the end of their days.
 
 I550.J LADYJANEGREY. 57 
 
 Lady JM Grey. Her disposition and character 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 LADY JANE GREY. 
 
 AMONG Elizabeth's companions and play- 
 mates in her early years was a young 
 lady, her cousin, as she was often called, though 
 she was really the daughter of her cousin, named 
 Jane Grey, commonly called in history Lady 
 J ane Grey. Her mother was the Marchioness 
 of Dorset, and was the daughter of one of King 
 Henry the Eighth's sisters. King Henry had 
 named her as the next in the order of succession 
 after his own children, that is, after Edward his 
 son, and Mary and Elizabeth his two daughters ; 
 and, consequently, though she was very young, 
 yet, as she might one day be Queen of England, 
 she was a personage of considerable importance. 
 She was, accordingly, kept near the court, and 
 shared, in some respects, the education and the 
 studies of the two princesses. 
 
 Lady Jane was about four years younger 
 than the Princess Elizabeth, and the sweetnes* 
 of her disposition, united with an extraordinary 
 intellectual superiority, which showed itself at
 
 58 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1550 
 
 Ldy Jaae'i parent*. Keetralnti put upon bar 
 
 a very early period, made her a universal favor- 
 ite. Her father and mocher, the Marquis and 
 Marchioness of Dorset, lived at an estate they 
 possessed, called Broadgate, in Leicestershire, 
 which is in the central part of England, although 
 they took their title from the county of Dorset, 
 which is on the southwestern coast. They were 
 very proud of their daughter, and attached in- 
 finite importance to her descent from Henry 
 VII., and to the possibility that she might one 
 day succeed to the English throne. They were 
 very strict and severe in their manners, and 
 paid great attention to etiquette and punctilio, 
 as persons who are ambitious of rising in the 
 world are very apt to do. In all ages of the 
 world, and among all nations, those who have 
 long been accustomed to a high position are 
 easy and unconstrained in their manners and 
 demeanor, while those who have been newly 
 mdvanccd from a lower station, or who are an- 
 ticipating or aspiring to such an advance, make 
 themselves slaves to the rules of etiquette and 
 oererrony. It was thus that the father and 
 mother of Lady Jane, anticipating that she 
 might one day become a queen, watched and 
 guarded her incessantly, subjected her to a 
 thormand unwelcome restraints, and repressed
 
 1550.] LADY JANE GREY. 59 
 
 Lady June's attainments. Character of her teacher, 
 
 all the spontaneous and natural gayety and 
 sprightliness which belongs properly to such a 
 child 
 
 She became, however, a very excellent schol 
 ir ir consequence of this state of things. She 
 had a private teacher, a man of great eminence 
 for his learning and abilities, and yet of a very 
 kind and gentle spirit, which enabled him to 
 gain a strong hold on his pupil's affection and 
 regard. His name was John Aylmer. The 
 Marquis of Dorset, Lady Jane's father, became 
 acquainted with Mr. Aylmer when he was quite 
 young, and appointed him, when he had finished 
 his education, to come and reside in his family 
 as chaplain and tutor to his children. Aylmer 
 afterward became a distinguished man, was 
 made Bishop of London, and held many high 
 offices of state under Queen Elizabeth, when 
 she came to reign. He became very much at- 
 tached to Queen Elizabeth in the middle and 
 latter part of his life, as he had been to Lady 
 Jane in the early part of it. A curious incident 
 occurred during the time that he was in the 
 enrice of Elizabeth, which illustrates the char- 
 acter of the man. The queen was suffering 
 from the toothache, and it was necessary that 
 the tooth should be extracted. The sursreoa
 
 60 QUEHJI ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 Anecdote of Elizabeth and Aylroer. I.ndy Jane'i ttclinvw* to Ay liner 
 
 was ready with his instruments, and several 
 ladies and gentlemen of the royal household 
 were in the queen's room commiserating her 
 offerings ; but the queen dreaded the operation 
 o excessively that she could not summon for- 
 titude enough to submit to it Aylmer, after 
 trying some time in vain to encourage her, took 
 his seat in the chair instead of her, and said to 
 the surgeon, " I am an old man, and have but 
 few teeth to lose ; but come, draw this one, and 
 let her majesty see how light a matter it is." 
 One would not have supposed that Elizabeth 
 would have allowed this to be done ; but she did , 
 and, finding that Aylmer made so light of the 
 operation, she submitted to have it performed 
 upon herself. 
 
 But to return to Lady Jane. She was very 
 strongly attached to her teacher, and made great 
 progress in the studies which he arranged for 
 her. Ladies of high rank, in those days, were 
 accustomed to devote great attention to the an- 
 oient and modern languages. There was, in 
 (act, a great necessity then, as indeed there ia 
 tow, for a European princess to be acquainted 
 with the principal languages of Europe ; for the 
 various royal families were continually inter- 
 marrying with each other, which led to a great
 
 1550. 
 
 Cizabeth's studies. Roger Ajcbam. 
 
 many visits, and other intercourse between the 
 different courts. There was also a great deal 
 of intercourse with the pope, in which the Latin 
 language was the medium of communication. 
 Lady Jane devoted a great deal of time to all 
 these studies, and made rapid proficiency in 
 them all. 
 
 The Princess Elizabeth was also an excellent 
 scholai Her teacher was a very learned and 
 celebrated ma a, named Roger Ascham. She 
 spoke French and Italian as fluently as she 
 did English. She also wrote and spoke Latin 
 with correctness and readiness. She made con- 
 siderable progress in Greek too. She could 
 write the Greek character very beautifully, and 
 could express herself tolerably well in conversa- 
 tion in that language. One of her companions, 
 a young lady of the name of Cecil, is said to 
 have spoken Greek as well as English. Roger 
 Ascham took great interest in advancing the 
 princess in these studies, and in the course of 
 these his instructions he became acquainted 
 with Lady Jane, and he praises very highly, in 
 his letters, the industry and assiduity of Lady 
 Jane in similar pursuits. 
 
 One day Roger Ascham, being on a journey 
 from the north of England to London, stopped
 
 02 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1550 
 
 Lady Jane't acquirements in Greek. Her Interview with Aieham 
 
 to make a call at the mansion of the Marquis 
 of Dorset. He found that the family were all 
 iway ; they had gone off upon a hunting ex- 
 onrsion in the park. Lady Jane, however, had 
 been left at home, and Ascham went in to see 
 her. He found her in the library reading Greek. 
 Ascham examined her a little, and was very 
 much surprised to find how well acquainted 
 with the language she had become, although 
 she was then only about fifteen years old. He 
 told her that he should like very much to have 
 her write him a letter in Greek, and this she 
 readily promised to do. He asked her, also, 
 how it happened that, at her age, she had made 
 such advances in learning. " I will tell you," 
 said she, "how it has happened. One of the 
 greatest benefits that God ever conferred upon 
 me was in giving me so sharp and severe par- 
 ents and so gentle a teacher : for, when I am 
 in the presence of either my father or mother, 
 whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go ; 
 eat, drink, be merry or sad ; be sewing, play- 
 ing, dancing, or doing any thing else, I must 
 do it t as it were, in just such weight, measure, 
 and number, as perfectly as possible, or else I 
 am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, 
 vea, presently , sometimes with pinches, nips, and
 
 J.550.] LADY JANE GREY. 65 
 
 Lady Jane'i intimacy with Edward. The Earl of NortintmbertanA 
 
 bobs, and other ways, which I will not name 
 for the honor I bear my parents, that I am con- 
 tinually teased and tormented. And then, when 
 the time comes for me to go to Mr. Elsmer, he 
 teaches no so gently, so pleasantly, and with 
 Fusli fail allurements to learning, that I think 
 all the time nothing while I am with him ; and 
 I am always sorry to go away from him, be- 
 cause whatsoever else I do but learning is fuE 
 f grief, trouble, fear, and suffering." 
 
 Lady Jane Grey was an intimate friend and 
 companion of the young King Edward as long 
 as he lived. Edward died when he was sixteen 
 years of age, so that he did not reach the period 
 which his father had assigned for his reigning 
 in his own name. One of King Edward's most 
 prominent and powerful ministers during the 
 latter part of his life was the Earl of Northum- 
 berland. The original name of the Earl of 
 Northumberland was John Dudley. He wa 
 one of the train who came in the procession at 
 the close of the baptism of Elizabeth, carrying 
 the presents. He was a .Protestant, and waa 
 rery friendly to Edward and to Lady Jane 
 Grey, for they were Protestants too. But hia 
 feelings and policy were hostile to Mary, for she 
 was a Catholic. Mary was sometimes treated 
 265
 
 66 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1550 
 
 Htrah treatment of Mary. Decline of Edwtrd'i health. 
 
 very harshly by him, and she was subjected t 
 many privations and hardships on account of 
 her religious faith. The government of Ed- 
 ward justified these measures, on account of 
 the necessity of promoting the Reformation, and 
 discouraging popery by every means in their 
 power. Northumberland supposed, too, that it 
 was safe to do this, for Edward being very 
 young, it \vas probable that he would live and 
 reign a long time. It is true that Mary waa 
 named, in her father's will, as his successor, if 
 she outlived him, but then it was highly prob- 
 able that she would not outlive him, for she waa 
 several years older than he. 
 
 All these calculations, however, were spoiled 
 by the sudden failure of Edward's health when 
 he was sixteen years old. Northumberland was 
 much alarmed at this. He knew at once that if 
 Edward should die, and Mary succeed him, all 
 his power would be gone, and he determined to 
 make desperate efforts to prevent such a result 
 
 It must not be understood, however, that in 
 Doming to this resolution, Northumberland con- 
 sidered himself as intending and planning a de- 
 liberate usurpation of power. There was a real 
 uncertainty in respect to the question who wai 
 the true and rightful heir to the crown. Nor-
 
 1550.] LAbY JANELTREI. 07 
 
 Uncertainty In respect to the succession. Struggle! for power 
 
 thumberland was, undoubtedly, strongly biased 
 by his interest, but he may have been uncon- 
 scious of the bias, and in advocating the mode 
 of succession on which the continuance of hit 
 own power depended, he may have really be- 
 lieved that he was only maintaining what was 
 in itself rightful and just. 
 
 In fact, there is no mode which human inge- 
 nuity has ever yet devised for determining the 
 hands in which the supreme executive of a na- 
 tion shall be lodged, which will always avoid 
 doubt and contention. If this power devolves 
 by hereditary descent, no rules can be made so 
 minute and full as that cases will not some- 
 times occur that will transcend them. If, on 
 the other hand, the plan of election be adopted, 
 there will often be technical doubts about a por- 
 tion of the votes, and cases will sometimes occur 
 where the result will depend upon this doubtful 
 portion. Thus there will be disputes under any 
 system, and ambitious men will seize such oc- 
 casions to struggle for power. 
 
 In order that our readers may clearly under- 
 stand the nature of the plan which Northum- 
 berland adopted, we present, on the following 
 page, a sort of genealogical table of the roya, 
 family of England in the days of Elizabeth.
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 [1660 
 
 Queen Elizabeth's family connection*. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 1550.1 LiDY JANE (iREY 89 
 
 Explanation of the table. King lluury'i wlQ 
 
 By examination of this table, it will be seen 
 fchat King Henry VII. left a son and two daugh- 
 ters. The son was King Henry VIIL, and he 
 had three children. His third child was King 
 Edward VI., who was now about to die. The 
 other two were the Princesses Mary and Eliza- 
 beth, who would naturally be considered the 
 next heirs after Edward ; and besides, King 
 Henry had left a will, as has been already ex- 
 plained, confirming their rights to the succes- 
 sion. This will he had made near the time of 
 his death ; but it will be recollected that, dur- 
 ing his life-time, both the marriages from which 
 these princesses had sprung had been formally 
 annulled. His marriage with Catharine of Ar 
 agon had been annulled on one plea, and that 
 of Anne Boleyn on another. Both these decrees 
 of annulment had afterward been revoked, and 
 the right of the princesses to succeed had been 
 restored, or attempted to be restored, by the will 
 Still, it admitted of a question, after all, whether 
 Mary and Elizabeth were to be considered as the 
 children of true and lawful wives or not. 
 
 If they were not, then Lady Jane Grey was 
 the next heir, for she was placed next to the 
 princesses by King Henry the Eighth's wilJ 
 This will, for some reason or other, set aside a
 
 70 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1550. 
 
 Varlou "laimnnta for the threne. Perplexing qnnitlnaa 
 
 the descendants of Margaret, who went to Soot- 
 land as the wife of James IV. of that country. 
 What right the king had thus to disinherit the 
 children of his sister Margaret was a great 
 question. Among her descendants was Mary 
 Qneen of Soots, as will be seen by the table, 
 and she was, at this time, the representative of 
 that branch of the family. The friends of Mary 
 Queen of Scots claimed that she was the law- 
 ful heir to the English throne after Edward 
 They maintained that the marriage of Catha- 
 rine, the Princess Mary's mother, and also that 
 of Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth's mother, had both 
 been annulled, and that the will could not re- 
 store them. They maintained, also, that the 
 will was equally powerless in setting aside the 
 claims of Margaret, her grandmother. Mary 
 Queen of Scots, though silent now, advanced 
 her claim subsequently, and made Elizabeth a 
 great deal of trouble. 
 
 Then there was, besides these, a third party, 
 who maintained that King Henry the Eighth's 
 will was not effectual in legalizing again the 
 annulled marriages, but that it was sufficient 
 to set aside the claims of Margaret. Of course, 
 with them, Lady Jane Grey, who, as will be 
 seen by the table, was the representative of th
 
 i553.j LADYJANEGREY. 71 
 
 Power of Northumberland. Hi* scheme* 
 
 second sister of Henry VIII., was the only heir. 
 The Earl of Northumberland embraced thia 
 view. His motive was to raise Lady Jane Grey 
 to the throne, in order to exclude the Princess 
 Mary, whose accession he knew very well wonld 
 bring all his greatness to a very sudden end. 
 
 The Earl of Northumberland was at this 
 time the principal minister of the young king. 
 The protector Somerset had fallen long ago. 
 Northumberland, whose name was then John 
 Dudley, had supplanted him, and had acquired 
 BO great influence and power at court that al- 
 most every thing seemed to be at his disposal. 
 He was, however, generally hated by the other 
 courtiers and by the nation. Men who gain the 
 confidence of a young or feeble-minded prince, 
 so as to wield a great power not properly theii 
 own, are almost always odious. It was expected, 
 however, that his career would be soon brought 
 to an end, as all knew that King Edward must 
 die, and it was generally understood that Mary 
 was to succeed him. 
 
 Northumberland, however, was very anxloui 
 to devise some scheme to continue his power, 
 and in revolving the subject in his mind, he 
 conceived of plans which seemed to promise not 
 wily to continue, but also greatly to increase it
 
 72 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1553 
 
 Marriage of Lady Jane. Feelings of the peopl* 
 
 His scheme was to have the princesses' claims 
 set aside, and Lady Jane Grey raised to the 
 throne. He had several sons. One of them 
 was young, handsome, and accomplished. He 
 thought of proposing him to Lady Jane's father 
 as the husband of Lady Jane, and, to induce 
 the marquis to consent to this plan, he promised 
 to obtain a dukedom for him by means of his 
 influence with the king. The marquis agreed 
 to the proposal. Lady Jane did not object to 
 the husband they offered her. The dukedom 
 was obtained, and the marriage, together with 
 two others which Northumberland had arrang- 
 ed to strengthen his influence, were celebrated, 
 all on the same day, with great festivities and 
 rejoicings. The people looked on moodily, jeal- 
 ous and displeased, though they had no open 
 ground of displeasure, except that it was un- 
 suitable to have such scenes of gayety and re 
 joicing among the high officers of the court 
 while the young monarch himself was lying 
 upon his dying bed. They did not yet know 
 tha. it was Northumberland's plan to raise his 
 cew daughter-in-law to the throne. 
 
 Northumberland thought it would greatly in- 
 crease his prospect of success if he could ob- 
 tain some act of acknowledgment of Lady Jaua'v
 
 1553.1 L A D Y J A N E G R E V. 73 
 
 Efforts to let Mary aside. Northumberland work* on the young king 
 
 claims to the orown before Edward died. AB 
 opportunity soon occurred for effecting this pur 
 pose. One day, as he was sitting by young Ed- 
 ward's bedside, he turned the conversation to 
 ihe subject of the Reformation, which had made 
 preat progress during Edward's reign, and he 
 led Edward on in the conversation, until he re- 
 marked that it was a great pity to have the 
 work all undone by Mary's accession, for she 
 was a Catholic, and would, of course, endeavor 
 to bring the country back again under the spir- 
 itual dominion of Rome. Northumberland then 
 told him that there was one way, and one way 
 only, to avert such a calamity, and that was to 
 make Lady Jane his heir instead of Mary. 
 
 King Edward was a very thoughtful, consid- 
 erate, and conscientious boy, and was very de- 
 sirous of doing what he considered his duty. He 
 thought it was his duty to do all in his power 
 to sustain the Reformation, and to prevent the 
 Catholic power from gaining ascendency in En- 
 gland again. He was, therefore, easily persua- 
 ded to accede to Northumberland's plan, espe- 
 cially as he was himself strongly attached to 
 Lady Jane, who had often been his playmate 
 and companion. 
 
 The king accordingly sent for three judges
 
 74 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1553 
 
 Conduct of the Judge* . Pardon by nticiptio 
 
 of the realm, and directed them to draw up a 
 deed of assignment, by which the crown was to 
 be conveyed to Lady Jane on the young king'f 
 death, Mary and Elizabeth being alike exclu- 
 ded. The judges were afraid to do this ; for, 
 by King Henry the Eighth's settlement of the 
 crown, all those persons who should do any 
 thing to disturb the succession as he arranged 
 it were declared to be guilty of high treason. 
 The judges knew very well, therefore, that if 
 they should do what the king required of them, 
 and then, if the friends of Lady Jane should fail 
 of establishing her upon the throne, the end of 
 the affair would be the cutting off of their own 
 heads in the Tower. They represented this to 
 the king, and begged to be excused from the 
 duty that he required of them. Northumber- 
 land was in a great rage at this, and seemed 
 almost ready to break out against the judges in 
 open violence. They, however, persisted in their 
 refusal to do what they well knew would sub- 
 ject them to the pains and penalties of treason. 
 Northumberland, finding that threats and vi- 
 eionce would not succeed, contrived another 
 mode of obviating the difficulty. He proposed 
 to protect the judges from any possible evil con- 
 nequenoe* of their act by a formal pardon for it
 
 L553.J LADY JANE GREY. 75 
 
 Edward' deed of Mttleneat Flan to entrap the prtnoeMe* 
 
 signed by the king, and sealed with the great 
 leal, so that, in case they were ever charged 
 with treason, the pardon would save them from 
 punishment. This plan succeeded. The par- 
 ion was made out, being written with great 
 formality upon a parchment roll, and sealed 
 with the great seal. The judges then prepared 
 and signed the deed of settlement by which the 
 crown was given to Lady Jane, though, after all) 
 they did it with much reluctance and many 
 forebodings. 
 
 Northumberland next wanted to contrive 
 some plan for getting the princesses into hi* 
 power, in order to prevent their heading anv 
 movement in behalf of their own claims at the 
 death of the king. He was also desirous of 
 making such arrangements as to conceal the 
 death of the king for a few days after it should 
 take place, in order that he might get Lady 
 Jane and her officers in complete possession of 
 the kingdom before the demise of the crown 
 should be generally known. For this purpose 
 he dismissed the regular physicians who had at- 
 tended upon the king, and put him under the 
 charge of a woman, who pretended that she had 
 a medicine that would certainly cure him. He 
 sent, also, messengers to the princesses, who
 
 76 QUEEN ELIZAHKTH [1553 
 
 DmtL of Edward. E*cap of the prlneeMW* 
 
 were then in the country north of London, re- 
 questing that they would come to Greenwich, 
 ^o be near the sick chamber where their broth- 
 cr was lying, that they might cheer and com- 
 fort him in his sickness and pain. 
 
 The princesses obeyed the summons. They 
 aach sat out immediately on the journey, and 
 moved toward London on their way to Green- 
 wich. In the mean time, Edward was rapidly 
 declining. The change in the treatment which 
 took place when his physicians left him, made 
 him worse instead of better. His cough in- 
 creased, his breathing became more labored and 
 difficult ; in a word, his case presented all the 
 symptoms of approaching dissolution. At length 
 he died. Northumberland attempted to keep 
 the fact concealed until after the princesses 
 should arrive, that he might get them into his 
 power. Some faithful friend, however, made 
 all haste to meet them, in order to inform them 
 what was going on. In this way Mary received 
 Intelligence of her brother's death when she hac. 
 almost reached London, and was informed, also, 
 f the plans of Northumberland for raising Lady 
 Jane to the throne. The two princesses were 
 extremely alarmed, and both turned back at 
 onoe toward the northward again Mary stopped
 
 L553.] LAY JANE GREY. 77 
 
 Precaution! of Wary. Ldy Jane proclaimed qoeat 
 
 tc write a letter to the council, remonstrating 
 against their delay in proclaiming her queen, 
 End then proceeded rapidly to a strong castle 
 it a place called gharn, in the county 
 
 of Suffolk, on the eastern coast of England. 
 She made this her head-quarters, because she 
 supposed that the people of that county were 
 particularly friendly to her ; and then, besides, 
 it was near the sea, and, in case the course of 
 events should turn against her, she could make 
 her escape to foreign lands. It is true that the 
 prospect of being fugitive and an exile wa* 
 very dark and gloomy, but it was not so terrible 
 as the idea of being shut up a prisoner in th 
 Tower, or being beheaded on a block for treason. 
 In the mean time, Northumberland went, at 
 the head of a troop of his adherents, to the res- 
 idence of Lady Jane Grey, informed her of the 
 death of Edward, and announced to her their 
 determination to proclaim her queen. Lady 
 Jane was very much astonished at this newa. 
 At first she absolutely refused the offered hon- 
 ?r; but the solicitations and urgency of Nor- 
 thumberland, and of her father and her young 
 husband, at length prevailed. She was con- 
 ducted to London, and instated in at least tht 
 semblance of power
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH [155.4 
 
 tflccitement Public opinion to faror of Mary 
 
 As tfce news of these transactions spread 
 chroughout the land, a universal and strong ex- 
 citement was produced, every body at once tak- 
 ing sides either for Mary or Lady Jane. Band* 
 of armed men began to assemble. It soon be- 
 came apparent, however, that, beyond the imme 
 diate precincts of London, the country was al- 
 most unanimous for Mary. They dreaded, it 
 \M true, the danger which they anticipated from 
 her Catholic faith, but still they had all consid- 
 ered it a settled point, since the death of Henry 
 the Eighth, that Mary was to reign whenever 
 Edward should die ; and this general expecta- 
 tion that she would be queen had passed in- 
 en4ibly into an opinion tht she ought to be. 
 Considered strictly as a legal question, it was 
 certainly doubtful which of the four claimants 
 to the throne had the strongest title ; but the 
 public were not disposed so to regard it. They 
 chose, on the whole, that Mary should reign. 
 Large military masses consequently flocked to 
 her standard. Elizabeth took sides with her, 
 and as it was important to give as much pub- 
 lio effect to her adhesion as possible, they fur- 
 nished Elizabeth with a troop of a thousand 
 horsemen, at the head of which she rode to meel 
 Mary and tender her aid.
 
 1553.] LADY JANE GREY. 79 
 
 V ortbumbcrland taken prisoner. He U beheaded 
 
 Northumberland went forth at the head of 
 such forces as he could collect, but he soon found 
 that tFfe attempt was vain. His troops forsook 
 him. The castles which had at first been under 
 his command surrendered themselves to Mary. 
 The Tower of London went over to her side. 
 Finally, all being lost, Northumberland himself 
 was taken prisoner, and all his influential friends 
 with him, and were committed to the Tower. 
 Lady Jane herself too, together with her hus- 
 band and father, were seized and sent to prison 
 
 Northumberland was immediately put upon 
 his trial for treason. He was condemned, and 
 brought at once to the block. In fact, the whole 
 affair moved very promptly and rapidly on, from 
 its commencement to its consummation. Ed- 
 ward the Sixth died on the 5th of July, and it 
 was only the 22d of August when Northumber- 
 land was beheaded. The period for which the 
 unhappy Lady Jane enjoyed the honor of being 
 called a queen was nine days. 
 
 It was about a month after this that Mary 
 passed from the Tower through the city of Lon- 
 don in a grand triumphal procession to be 
 crowned. The royal chariot, covered with cloth 
 of golden tissue, was drawn by six horses most 
 splendidly caparisoned. Elizabeth, who had aid-
 
 80 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1553 
 
 Mary's triumphal procecdon. Shared by E&mboth 
 
 d her sister, so far as she could, in the strug- 
 gle, was admitted to share the triumph. She 
 had a carriage drawn by six horses too, with 
 cloth and decorations of silver. They proceed- 
 ed in this manner, attended and followed by a 
 great cavalcade of nobles and soldiery, to West- 
 minster Abbey, where Mary took her seat with 
 great formality upon her father's throne.
 
 1553.] THE ^I-AMSH MATCE. 83 
 
 Mary't character. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 . THE SPANISH MATCH. 
 
 " HEN Queen Mary ascended the throne, 
 she was a maiden lady not far from thir- 
 ty-five years of age. She was cold, austere, and 
 forbidding in her appearance and manners, 
 though probably conscientious and honest in 
 her convictions of duty. She was a very firm 
 and decided Catholic, or, rather, she evinced a 
 certain strict adherence to the principles of her 
 religious faith, which we generally mil firmness 
 when it is exhibited by those whose opinions 
 agree with our own, though we are very apt to 
 name it bigotry in those who differ from ns. 
 
 For instance, when the body of young Ed- 
 ward, her brother, after his death, was to be 
 deposited in the last home of the English kingh 
 in Westminster Abbey, which is a very mag- 
 nificent cathedral a little way up the river front 
 London, the services were, of course, conducted 
 according to the ritual of the English Church, 
 which was then Protestant. Mary, however, 
 oould not con-oientiously countenance such ae* 
 
 266
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1553 
 
 Anuew. ftdtora for Queen lUry'i knd 
 
 ioe even by being present at them; She ac- 
 cordingly assembled her immediate attendants 
 and personal friends in her own private chape], 
 and celebrated the interment there, with Cath- 
 olic priests, by a service conformed to the Cath 
 olio ritual. Was it a bigoted, or only a firm 
 and proper, attachment to her own faith, which 
 forbade her joining in the national commemo- 
 ration ? The reader must decide ; but, in de- 
 ciding, he is bound to render the same verdict 
 that he would have given if it had been a case 
 of a Protestant withdrawing thus from Catho- 
 lic forms. 
 
 At all events, whether bigoted or not, Mary 
 was doubtless si^sere; but she was so cold, 
 and stern, and nucitere in her character, that she 
 was very little likely to be loved. There were 
 a great many persons who wished to become hei 
 husband, but their motives were to share hei 
 grandeur and power. Among these persons, the 
 most prominent one, and the one apparently 
 most likely to succeed, was a prince of Spain 
 His name was Philip. 
 
 It was his father's plan, and not his own, that 
 he should marry Queen Mary. His father was 
 at this time the most wealthy and powerfu 
 monarch in Europe. His name was CharJes*
 
 PORTRAIT OF PHILIP OF SPAIN.
 
 1553.] THE SPINISH MATCIL 86 
 
 Emperor CTbar lea the Fifth. Character of hi* Mm PhflJp 
 
 He is commonly called in history Charles V 
 of Spain. He was not only King of Spain, but 
 Emperor of Germany. He resided sometimes 
 at Madrid, and sometimes at Brussels in Flan- 
 ders. His son Philip had been married to a 
 Portuguese princess, but his wife had died, and 
 thus Philip was a widower. Still, he was only 
 twenty-seven years of age, but he was as stem, 
 severe, and repulsive in his manners as Mary. 
 His personal appearance, too, corresponded with 
 his character. He was a very decided Catholic 
 also, and in his natural spirit, haughty, ambi- 
 tious, and domineering. 
 
 The Emperor Charles, as soon as he heard 
 of young Edward's death and of Mary's acces- 
 sion to the English throne, conceived the plan 
 of proposing to her his son Philip for a husband. 
 He sent over a wise and sagacious statesman 
 from his court to make the proposition, and to 
 wrge it by such reasons as would be most likely 
 to influence Mary's mind, and the minds of the 
 great officers of her government. The embas- 
 sador managed the affair well. In fact, it wai 
 probably easy to manage it. Mary would nat- 
 urally be pleased with the idea of such a young 
 husband, who, besides being young and accom- 
 plished, was the son of the greatest potentate io
 
 86 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1553 
 
 Tb* emperor propose! hU ion. Mary pleud with the propol 
 
 Europe, and likely one day to take his father's 
 place tn that lofty elevation. Besides, Mary 
 Queen of Scots, who had rival claims to Queen 
 Mary's throne, had married, or was about to 
 marry, the son of the King of France, and there 
 was a little glory in outshining her, by having 
 for a husband a son of the King of Spain. It 
 might, however, perhaps, be a question which 
 was the greatest match ; for, though the court 
 of Paris was the most brilliant, Spain, being at 
 that time possessed of the gold and silver mines 
 of its American colonies, was at least the rich- 
 est country in the world. 
 
 Mary's ministers, when they found that Mary 
 herself liked the plan, fell in with it too. Mary 
 had been beginning, very quietly indeed, but 
 very efficiently, her measures for bringing back 
 the English government and nation to the Cath- 
 olic faith. Her ministers told her now, howev- 
 er, that if she wished to succeed in effecting 
 this match, she must suspend all these plant 
 mntii the match was consummated. The peo- 
 ple of England were generally of the Protestant 
 faith. They had been very uneasy and restles* 
 under the progress which the queen had been 
 making in silencing Protestant preachers, and 
 bringing back Catholic rites and ceremonies;
 
 1/533.J THE SPANISH MATCH. 87 
 
 Plan* of the ministers The people tanned 
 
 and E.3W, if they found that their qneen wa* 
 going to marry so rigid and uncompromising a 
 Catholic as Philip of Spain, they would be 
 doubly alarmed. She must suspend, therefore, 
 for a time, her measures for restoring papacy, 
 unless she was willing to give up her husband. 
 The queen saw that this was the alternative, 
 and she decided on following her ministers' ad- 
 vice. She did all in her power to quiet and 
 calm the public mind, in order to prepare the 
 way for announcing the proposed connection. 
 
 Rumors, however, began to be spread abroad 
 that such a design was entertained before Mary 
 was .fully prepared to promulgate it. These 
 rumors produced great excitement, and awak- 
 ened strong opposition. The people knew Phil- 
 ip's ambitious and overbearing character, and 
 they believed that if he were to come to En- 
 gland as the husband of the queen, the whole 
 government would pass into hi* hands, and, a* 
 he would naturally be very much under the in- 
 fluence of his father, the connection was likely 
 to result in making England a mere appendage 
 to the already vast dominions of the emperor. 
 The House of Commons appointed a committee 
 of twenty members, and sent them to the queen, 
 with a h unable petition that she would not mar-
 
 88 QUKEN ELIZABETH. [1553 
 
 Oppodtion to the match. The emperor fomlihe* money 
 
 ry a foreigner. The queen was much displeased 
 at receiving such a petition, and she dissolved 
 the Parliament. The members dispersed, car- 
 rying with them every where expressions of 
 their dissatisfaction and fear. England, they 
 said, was about to become a province of Spam, 
 and the prospect of such a consummation, wher- 
 ever the tidings went, filled the people of the 
 country with great alarm. 
 
 Queen Mary's principal minister of state at 
 this time was a crafty politician, whose name 
 was Gardiner. Gardiner sent word to the em- 
 peror that there was great opposition to his son's 
 marriage in England, and that he feared that 
 he should not be able to accomplish it, unless 
 the terms of the contract of marriage were made 
 very favorable to the queen and to England, 
 and unless the emperor could furnish him with 
 a large sum of money to use as a means of 
 bringing influential persons of the realm to fa- 
 vor it. Charles decided to send the money 
 He borrowed it of some of the rich cities of 
 Germany, making his son Philip give his bond 
 to repay it as soon as he should get possession 
 of his bride, and of the rich and powerful coun- 
 try over which she reigned. The amount thus 
 remitted to England is said by the historian*
 
 1554.] THE SPANISH MATCH. 89 
 
 TVs emperor's embassy. Treaty of marriage 
 
 of those days to have been a sum equal to two 
 millions of dollars. The bribery was certainly 
 a very respectable scale. 
 
 The emperor also sent a very magnificent 
 / mbassy to London, with a distinguished noble- 
 man at its head, to arrange the terms and con- 
 tracts of the marriage. This embassy came in 
 great state, and, during their residence in lx>n- 
 don, were the objects of great attention and pa- 
 rade. The eclat of their reception, and the in- 
 fluence of the bribes, seemed to silence opposi- 
 tion to the scheme. Open opposition ceased to 
 be expressed, though a strong and inveterate 
 'determination against the measure was secret- 
 ly extending itself throughout the realm. This, 
 however, did not prevent the negotiations from 
 going on. The terms were probably all fully 
 understood and agreed upon before the embassy 
 came, so that nothing remained but the formal- 
 ities of writing and signing the articles. 
 
 Some of the principal stipulations of these ar- 
 ticles were, that Philip was to have the title of 
 King of England jointly with Mary's title of 
 queen. Mary was also to share with him, in 
 the same way, his titles hi Spain. It was agreed 
 that Mary should have the exclusive power of 
 the appointment of officers of government in
 
 90 C^UEEN ELIZABETH. [1554 
 
 Stipulation* of the treaty of marriage. 
 
 England, and that no Spaniards should be eli- 
 gible at all. Particular provisions were made in 
 respect to the children which might result from 
 the marriage, as to how they should inherit 
 rights of government in the two countries. 
 Philip had one son already, by his former wife. 
 This son was to succeed his father in the king- 
 dom of Spain, but the other dominions of Philip 
 on the Continent were to descend to the offspring 
 of this new marriage, in modes minutely spec- 
 ified to fit all possible cases which might occur 
 The making of all these specifications, however, 
 turned out to be labor lost, as Mary never had 
 children. 
 
 It was also specially agreed that Philip should 
 not bring Spanish or foreign domestics into the 
 realm, to give uneasiness to the English peo- 
 ple ; that he would never take the queen out of 
 England, nor carry any of the children away, 
 without the consent of the English nobility; 
 ind that, if the queen were to die before him, 
 til his rights and claims of every sort, in re- 
 gpect to England, should forever cease. He 
 also agreed that he would never carry away any 
 of the jewels or other property of the crown, nor 
 suffer any other person to do so. 
 
 These stipulations, guarding so carefully th
 
 1554. j THE SPANISH MATCH. 91 
 
 WjratTi rebellion. DukeofSuffofc 
 
 rights of Mary and of England, were intended 
 to satisfy the English people, and remove their 
 objections to the match. They produced some 
 effect, but the hostility was too deeply seated to 
 be so easily allayed. It grew, on the contrary, 
 more and more threatening, until at length a 
 conspiracy was formed by a number of influen- 
 tial and powerful men, and a plan of open re- 
 bellion organized. 
 
 The leader in this plan was Sir Thomas Wy- 
 att, and the outbreak which followed is known 
 in history as Wyatt's rebellion. Another of the 
 leaders was the Duke of Suffolk, who, it will be 
 recollected, was the father of Lady Jane Grey. 
 This led people to suppose that the plan of thf 
 conspirators was not merely to prevent the con 
 summation of the Spanish match, but to depose 
 Queen Mary entirely, and to raise the Lady 
 Jane to the throne. However this may be, an 
 extensive and formidable conspiracy was form- 
 ed. There were to have been several risings in 
 different parts of the kingdom. They all failed 
 except the one which Wyatt himself was to 
 head, which was in Kent, in the southeastern 
 part of the country. This succeeded so far, at 
 least, that a considerable force waa> collected, 
 and began to advance toward London from th 
 innthern side
 
 92 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [ 1554 
 
 Wyatt advance* toward London. The queen retreat* Into the rlty 
 
 Queen Mary was very much alarmed. She 
 had no armed force in readiness to encounter 
 this danger. She sent messengers across th 
 Thames and down the river to meet Wyatt, 
 who was ad\anoing at the head of four thou- 
 sand men, to ask what it was that he demand- 
 ed He replied that the queen must be deliv- 
 ered up as his prisoner, and also the Tower of 
 London be surrendered to him. This showed 
 that his plan was to depose the queen. Mary 
 rejected these proposals at once, and, having n 
 force* to meet this new enemy, she-had to re- 
 treat from Westminster into the city of London 
 and here sne took refuge in the city hall, called 
 the Guildhall, and put herself under the protec- 
 tion of the city authorities. Some of her friends 
 urged her to take shelter in the Tower ; but she 
 had more confidence, she said, in the faithfulness 
 and loyalty of her subjects than in castle walls. 
 
 Wyatt continued to advance He was still 
 upon the south side of the river. There wa* 
 but one bridge across the Thames, at London, 
 in those days, though there are half a dozen now, 
 and this one was so strongly barricaded and 
 guarded that Wyatt did not dare to attempt to 
 cross it He went up the river, therefore, to 
 cross at a higher point; and this
 
 1654.] THE SPANISH MATCH. 93 
 
 IVjratt carrenden Tb Duke of Suffolk tent to thn Towr 
 
 evera accidental circumstances which occur- 
 red, detained him so long that a considerable 
 force had been got together to receive him when 
 ie was ready to enter the city. He pushed bold- 
 y on into the narrow streets, which received him 
 like a trap or a snare. The city troops hemmed 
 ap his way after he had entered. They barri- 
 caded the streets, they shut the gates, and arm- 
 ed men poured in to take possession of all the av- 
 enues. Wyatt depended upon finding the peo- 
 ple of London on his side. They turned, in- 
 stead, against him. All hope of success in his 
 enterprise, and all possibility of escape from his 
 own awful danger, disappeared together. A 
 herald came from the queen's officer calling upon 
 him to surrender himself quietly, and save the 
 effusion of blood. He surrendered in an agony 
 of terror and despair. 
 
 The Duke of Suffolk learned these facts in 
 another county, where he was endeavoring to 
 raise a force to aid Wyatt. He immediately 
 fled, and hid himself in the house of one of nil 
 domestics. He was betrayed, however, seized, 
 and sent to the Tower. Many other promi- 
 nent actors in the insurrection were arrested, 
 and the others fled in all directions, wherevai 
 they could find concealment or safety.
 
 94 (-IUEEN ELIZABETH. [1554 
 
 Beheading of Ldy Jane Grey. Her heroic fortitude. 
 
 Lady Jane's life had been spared thus far, al- 
 though she had been, in fact, guilty of treason 
 against Mary by the former attempt to take 
 the crown. She now, however, two days aftei 
 the capture of Wyatt, received word that she 
 must prepare to die. She was, of course, sur- 
 prised and shocked at the suddenness of this an- 
 nouncement; but she soon regained her com- 
 posure, and passed through the awful scenes 
 preceding her death with a fortitude amounting 
 to heroism, which was very astonishing in one 
 so young. Her husband was to die too. He 
 was beheaded first, and she saw the headless 
 body, as it was brought back from the place of 
 execution, before her turn came. She acknowl- 
 edged her guilt in having attempted to seize her 
 cousin's crown. As the attempt to seize this 
 crown failed^ mankind consider her technically 
 guilty. If it had succeeded, Mary, instead of 
 Jane, would have been the traitor who would 
 have died for attempting criminally to usurp t 
 throne. 
 
 In the mean time Wyatt and Suffolk re. 
 mained prisoners in the Tower. Suffolk wa* 
 overwhelmed with remorse and sorrow at hav- 
 ing been the means, by his selfish ambition, of 
 the cruel death of so innocent and lovelv a child
 
 1554.] THE SPANISH MATCH, 9fl 
 
 Death of Suffolk. Imprisonment of Ell*beth. Execution of Wy*L 
 
 He did not suffer this anguish long, however, 
 for five days after his son and Lady Jano were 
 executed, his head fell too from the block. 
 Wyatt was reserved a little longer. 
 
 He was more formally tried, and in his ex- 
 amination he asserted that the Princess Eliza- 
 beth was involved in the conspiracy. Officers 
 were immediately sent to arrest Elizabeth. 
 She was taken to a royal palace at Westmin- 
 ster, just above London, called Whitehall, and 
 shut up there in close confinement, and no one 
 was allowed to visit her or speak to her. The 
 particulars of this imprisonment will be de- 
 scribed more fully in the next chapter. Fifty 
 or sixty common conspirators, not worthy of 
 being beheaded with an ax, were hanged, and 
 a company of six hundred more were brought, 
 their hands tied, and halters about their necks, 
 a miserable gang, into Mary's presence, before 
 her palace, to be pardoned. Wyatt was then 
 executed. When he came to die, however, he 
 retracted what he had alleged of Elizabeth. He 
 declared that she was entirely innocent oi any 
 participation in the scheme of rebellion. Eliza- 
 beth's friends believe that he accused her be- 
 cause he supposed that such a charge would be 
 agreeable to Mary, and that he should himself
 
 96 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1554 
 
 The wedding plan proceed*. Hostility of the lallur* 
 
 be more leniently treated in consequence of it, 
 bat that when at last he found that sacrificing 
 her would not save him, his guilty conscience 
 scourged him into doing her justice in his last 
 hours. 
 
 All obstacles to the wedding were now appa 
 rently removed ; for, after the failure of Wyatt's 
 rebellion, nobody dared to make any open oppo- 
 sition to the plans of the queen, though there 
 was still abundance of secret dissatisfaction. 
 Mary was now very impatient to have the mar- 
 riage carried into effect. A new Parliament 
 was called, and its concurrence in the plan ob 
 tained. Mary ordered a squadron of ships tc 
 be fitted out and sent to Spain, to convey the 
 bridegroom to England. The admiral who had 
 command of this fleet wrote to her that the 
 sailors were so hostile to Philip that he did not 
 think it was safe for her to intrust him to their 
 hands. Mary then commanded this force to be 
 dismissed, in order to arrange some other way 
 to bring Philip over. She was then full of anx- 
 iety and apprehension lest some accident might 
 befall him. His ship might be wrecked, or he 
 might fall into the hands of the Frencn, who 
 were not at all well disposed toward the match, 
 Her thoughts and her conversation were run-
 
 1554.) THE SPANISH MATCH. 97 
 
 Mary's fears nod complainings. Philip lands at Southampton 
 
 ning upon this topio all the time. She 
 restless by day and sleepless by night, until 
 her health was at last seriously impaired, j,nd 
 her friends began really to fear that she might 
 lose her reason. She was very anxious, too, lest 
 Philip should find her beauty so impaired by 
 her years, and by the state of her health, that 
 bhe should fail, when Le arrived, of becoming 
 <*he object of his lo> e. 
 
 In fact, she complained .il, eady that Philip 
 neglected her. He did not \vrite to her, or ex 
 press in any way the interest and affection 
 which she thought ought to be awakened in his 
 mind by a bride who, as she expressed it, was go- 
 ing to bring a kingdom for a dowry. This sort 
 f cold and haughty demeanor was, however, in 
 keeping with the self-importance and the pride 
 which then often marked the Spanish charac- 
 ter, and which, in Philip particularly, always 
 seemed to be extreme. 
 
 At length the time arrived for his embarka- 
 tion. He sailed across the Bay of Biscay, and 
 ip the English Channel until he reached South 
 arr.pton, a famous port on the southern coast t f 
 England. There he landed with great pomp 
 and parade. He assumed a very proud and 
 stately bearing, which made a very anfavorable 
 267
 
 96 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1555. 
 
 Ptft Jjr'i proud and haughty demeanor. The marriage ceremony. 
 
 impression upon the English people who had 
 been sent by Queen Mary to receive him. He 
 drew his sword when he landed, and walked 
 about with it, for a time, in a very pompouf 
 manner, holding the sword unsheathed in hi* 
 hand, the crowd of by-standers that had collect- 
 ed to witness the spectacle of the landing look- 
 ing on all the time, and wondering what such 
 an action could be intended to intimate. It was 
 probably intended simply to make them wonder. 
 The authorities of Southampton had arranged 
 it to come in procession to meet Philip, and 
 present him with the keys of the gates, an em- 
 blem of an honorable reception into the city. 
 Philip received the keys, but did not deign a 
 word of reply. The distance and reserve which 
 it had been customary to maintain between the 
 English sovereigns and their people was always 
 pretty strongly marked, but Philip's loftiness 
 and grandeur seemed to surpass all bounds. 
 
 Mary went two thirds of the way from Lon- 
 don to the coast to meet the bridegroom. Here 
 the marriage ceremony was performed, and the 
 whole party came, with great; parade and re- 
 joicings, back to London, and Mary, satisfied 
 *nd happy, took up her abode with her new lord 
 in Windsor Castle
 
 1555.] THE SPANISH MATCH. 99 
 
 Philip aband >ns Mary. Her replningB. Her dnadr. 
 
 The poor queen was, however, in the end, sad- 
 ly disappointed in her husband. He felt no love 
 for her ; he was probably, in fact, incapable of 
 love. He remained in England a year, and then, 
 growing weary of his wife and of his adopted 
 country, he went back to Spain again, greatly 
 to Queen Mary's vexation and chagrin. They 
 were both extremely disappointed in not hav- 
 ing children. Philip's motive for marrying 
 Mary was ambition wholly, and not love ; and 
 when he found that an heir to inherit the two 
 kingdoms was not to be expected, he treated hia 
 unhappy wife with great neglect and cruelty 
 and finally went away from her altogether. He 
 oame back again, it is true, a year afterward, 
 but it was only to compel Mary to join with him 
 in a war against France. He told her that, if 
 she would not do this, he would go away from 
 England and never see her again. Mary yield- 
 ed ; but at length, harassed and worn down with 
 useless regrets and repinings, her mental suf 
 ferings are supposed to have shortened her days 
 She died miserably a few years after her mar- 
 riage, and thus the Spanish match turned out 
 to be a very unfortunate match indeed.
 
 lOO QUEEN LLIZABETR. [1554 
 
 ilHlnlfi position. LHitimacy of Mary and EUaabeth'i Mrtk 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 ELIZABETH IN THE TOWEK. 
 
 fflHE imprisonment 01 l^ueen Elizabeth in 
 L the Tower, which was briefly alluded to in 
 the last chapter, deserves a more full narration 
 than was possible to give to it there. She had re- 
 tired from court some time before the difficulties 
 about the Spanish match arose. It is true that 
 she took sides with Mary in the contest with 
 Northumberland and the friends of Jane Grey, 
 and she shared her royal sister's triumph in the 
 pomp and parade of the coronation ; but, after all, 
 she and Mary could not pos^ioly be very good 
 friends. The marriages of their respective moth 
 ere could not both have been valid. Henry the 
 Eighth was so impatient that he could not wail 
 for a divorce from Catharine before he married 
 Anne Boleyn. The only way to make the lat- 
 ter marriage legal, therefore, was to consider th* 
 former one null and void from the beginning , 
 and if the former one was not thus null and void, 
 the latter must be so. If Henry had waited for 
 a divorce, then both marriages might have been
 
 554. t KLIZABETH IN THE Towen. 101 
 
 Vary and Elizabeth'* difference*. Courteney's long Imprisonment 
 
 valid, each for the time of its own continuance, 
 end both the princesses might have been lawful 
 heirs ; but as it was, neither of them could 
 maintain her own claims to be considered a law- 
 fa! daughter, without denying, by implication 
 at least, those of the other. They were there- 
 fore, as it were, natural enemies. Though they 
 might be outwardly civil to each other, it was 
 not possible that there could be any true har- 
 mony or frnnlship between them. 
 
 A circumstance occurred, too, soon after 
 Mary's accession to the throne, which result- 
 ed in openly alienating the feelings of the two 
 ladies from each other. There was a certain 
 prisoner in the Tower of London, a gentleman 
 of high rank and great consideration, named 
 Courteney, now about twenty-six years of age, 
 who had been imprisoned in the Tower by King 
 Henry the Eighth when he was only twelve 
 fears old, on account of some political offenses 
 f his father ! He had thus been a close pii*. 
 *ner for fourteen years at Mary's accession ; but 
 Mary released him. It was found, when he re- 
 turned to society again, that he had employed 
 his solitary hours in cultivating his mind, ac- 
 quiring knowledge, and availing himself of all 
 the opportunities for improvement which hi*
 
 102 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1554. 
 
 Mary 's attentions to Courteney. Courteney's attentions to Elizabeth. 
 
 situation afforded, and that lie came forth an 
 intelligent, accomplished, and very agreeable 
 man. The interest which his appearance and 
 manners excited was increased by the sympa- 
 thy naturally felt for the sufferings that he had 
 endured. In a word, he became a general favor- 
 ite. The rank of his family was high enough 
 for Mary to think of him for her husband, for 
 this was before the Spanish match was thought 
 of. Mary granted him a title, and large estates, 
 and showed him many other favors, and, as 
 every body supposed, tried very hard to make 
 an impression on his heart. Her efforts were, 
 however, vain. Courteney gave an obvious pref- 
 erence to Elizabeth, who was young then, at 
 least, if not beautiful. This successful rivalry 
 on the part of her sister filled the queen's heart 
 with resentment and envy, and she exhibited 
 her chagrin by so many little marks of neglect 
 and incivility, that Elizabeth's resentment was 
 roused in its turn, and she asked permission to 
 retire from court to her residence in the coun- 
 try. Mary readily gave the permission, and 
 thus it happened that when Wyatt's rebellion 
 first broke out, as described in the last chapter, 
 Elizabeth was living in retirement and seclu- 
 sion at Ashridge, an estate of hers at some dis-
 
 1554.] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER. 103 
 
 Mary's plan to get Elizabeth In her power. Elizabeth'* warlneM. 
 
 tance west of London. As to Courteney, Mar? 
 found some pretext or other foi sending him 
 back again to his prison in the Tower. 
 
 Mary was immediately afraid that the mal- 
 eontents would join with Elizabeth and attempt 
 to put forward her name and her claims to the 
 crown, which, if they were to do, it would make 
 their movement very formidable. She was im- 
 pressed immediately with the idea that it was 
 of great importance to get Elizabeth back again 
 into her power. The most probable way of 
 succeeding in doing this, she thought, was to 
 write her a kind and friendly letter, inviting her 
 to return. She accordingly wrote such a letter 
 She said in it that certain evil-disposed persons 
 were plotting some disturbances in the kingdom, 
 and that she thought that Elizabeth was not 
 safe where she was. She urged her, therefore, 
 to return, saying that she should be truly wel- 
 come, and should be protected against all dan- 
 ger if she would come. 
 
 An invitation from a queen is a command, 
 ind Elizabeth would have felt bound to obey 
 this summons, but she was sick when it came. 
 At least she was not well, and she was not 
 much disposed to underrate her sickness for th 
 take of being able to travel on this occasion.
 
 104 <4,UEEN ELIZABETH. [I.' ... 
 
 Wymtt MCMM EtiMbeth. HOT wixmr*. 
 
 The officers of her household made out a formal 
 certificate to the effect that Elizabeth was not 
 able to undertake such a journey. 
 
 In the mean time Wyatt's rebellion broke 
 oot; he marched to London, was entrapped 
 there and taken prisoner, as is related at length 
 in the last chapter. In his confessions he im- 
 plicated the Princess Elizabeth, and also Courte- 
 ney, and Mary's government then determined 
 that they must sec 'lie Elizabeth's person at all 
 events, sick or well. They sent, therefore, three 
 gentlemen as commissioners, with a troop of 
 horse to attend them, to bring her to London. 
 They Berried the queen's litter with them, to 
 bring tho princess upon it in case she should 
 be f and unable to travel in any other way. 
 
 Thr party arrived at Ashridge at ten o'clock 
 at night They insisted on being admitted at 
 on5e into the chamber of Elizabeth, and there 
 thy made known their errand. Elizabeth wa 
 te; :< ied; she begged not to be moved, as she 
 *ra really too sick to go. They called in seme 
 :i ysioians, who certified that she could be moved 
 wi hout danger to her life. The next morning 
 th< v ut her upon the litter, a sort of covered 
 bed, formed like a palanquin, and borne, like a 
 palanquin, by men. It was twenty-nine miles
 
 1654.] ELIZABETH lit THE TOWER. 105 
 
 Elizabeth borne in a Utter. She it examined end reloMed. 
 
 to London, and it took the party four days to 
 reach the city, they moved so slowly. This cir- 
 cumstance is mentioned sometimes as showing 
 how sick Elizabeth must have been. But the 
 feet is, there was no reason whatever for any 
 haste. Elizabeth was now completely in Mary's 
 power, and it could make no possible difference 
 how long she was upon the road. 
 
 The litter cassed along the roads in great 
 state. Jt was a princess that they were bear- 
 ing. As they approached London, a hundred 
 men in handsome uniforms went before, and an 
 equal number followed. A great many people 
 came out from the city to meet the princess, as 
 a token of respect. This displeased Mary, but 
 it could not well be prevented or punished. On 
 their arrival they took Elizabeth to one of the 
 palaces at Westminster, called Whitehall. She 
 was examined by Mary's privy council. Noth- 
 ing was proved against her, and, as the rebellion 
 seemed now wholly at an end, she was at length 
 released, and thus ended her first durance as a 
 political prisoner. 
 
 It happened, however, that other persons im- 
 plicated in Wyatt's plot, when examined, made 
 charges against Elizabeth in respect to it, and 
 Queen Mary sent ancther force and arrested
 
 106 QCEEN ELIZABETH. [1554 
 
 EliMbeth #*! arrectad. Bar tatter to Mry 
 
 her again. She was taken now to a famoua 
 royal palace, called Hampton Court, which Ls 
 situated on the Thames, a few miles above the 
 city. She brought many of the officers of her 
 household and of her personal attendants with 
 her ; but one of the queen's ministers, accom- 
 panied by two other officers, came soon after, 
 and dismissed all her own attendants, and placed 
 persons in the service of the queen in their place. 
 They also set a guard around the palace, and 
 then left the princess, for the night, a close 
 prisoner, and yet without any visible signs of 
 coercion, for all these guards might be guards 
 of honor. 
 
 The next day some officers came again, and 
 told her that it had been decided to send her to 
 the Tower, and that a barge was ready at the 
 river to convey her. She was very muoh agi- 
 tated and alarmed, and begged to be allowed to 
 serd a letter to her sister before they took her 
 a^ay. One of the officers insisted that she 
 ahould have the privilege, and the other that 
 she shiiuld not. The former conquered in the 
 contest, and Elizabeth wrote the letter and sent 
 it. It contained an earnest and solemn disavow- 
 al of all participation in the plots which she had 
 been charged with encouraging, and begged
 
 1554.] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER. 107 
 
 Situation of the Tower. The Traitors' Gate. 
 
 Mary to believe that she was innocent, and al- 
 low her to be released. 
 
 The letter did no good. Elizabeth was tak- 
 en into the barge and conveyed in a very pri- 
 vate manner down the river. Hampton Court 
 is above London, several miles, and the Tower 
 is just below the city. There are several en- 
 trances to this vast castle, some of them by 
 stairs from the river. Among these is one by 
 which prisoners accused of great political crimes 
 were usually taken in, and which is called the 
 Traitors' Gate. There was another entrance, 
 also, from the river, by which a more honorable 
 admission to the fortress might be attained. The 
 Tower was not solely a prison. It was often a 
 place of retreat for kings and queens from any 
 sudden danger, and was frequently occupied 
 by them as a somewhat permanent residence. 
 There were a great number of structures with- 
 in the walls, in some of which royal apartments 
 were fitted up with great splendor. Elizabeth 
 had often been in the Tower as a resident or 
 a visitor, and thus far there was nothing in the 
 circumstances of the case to forbid the supposi- 
 tion that they might be taking her there as a 
 guest or resident now. She was anxious and 
 uneasy, it is true, but she was not certain that 
 she was regarded as a prisoner.
 
 108 t^uEEN ELIZABETH. (1&54 
 
 CttMbeth cooTeyed to the Tower. She la landed at the Traitors' Gate 
 
 In the mean time, the barge, with the otnei 
 boats in attendance, passed down the river in 
 the rain, for it was a stormy day, a circum- 
 stance which aided the authorities in their ef- 
 fort to convey their captive to her gloomy pris- 
 n without attracting the attention of the pop- 
 ulace. Besides, it was the day of some great 
 religious festival, when the people were gener- 
 ally in the churches. This day had been cho- 
 sen on that very account. The barge and the 
 boats came down the river, therefore, without 
 attracting much attention ; they approached the 
 landing-place at last, and stopped at the flight 
 of steps leading up from the water to the Trai- 
 tors' Irate. 
 
 Elizabeth declared that she was no traitor, 
 and that she would not be landed there. Th 
 nobleman who had charge of her told her sim- 
 ply, in reply, that she could not have her choice 
 of a place to land. At the same time, he offered 
 hei his cloak to protect her from the rain in pass- 
 bag from the barge to the castle gate. Umbrel- 
 las had not been invented in those days. Elia- 
 abeth threw the cloak away from her in vexa- 
 tion and anger. She found, however, that it 
 wa* of no use to resist. She could not choose. 
 &he stepped from the barge out upon the stain
 
 1554.] ELIZABETH iff THE TOWEF 109 
 
 KBnbrth't reception &t the Tower. Her vnwilliagneM to en*> 
 
 in the rain, saying, as she did so, " Here landi 
 as true and faithful a subject as ever landed 
 prisoner at these stairs. Before thee, O God, I 
 speak it, having now no friends but thee alone." 
 
 A large company of the warders and keepers 
 of the castle had been drawn up at the Traitors' 
 Gate to receive her, as was customary on occa- 
 sions when prisoners of high rank were to en- 
 ter the Tower. As these men were always 
 dressed in uniform of a peculiar antique char- 
 acter, such a parade of them made quite an im- 
 posing appearance. Elizabeth asked what it 
 meant. Tht>y told her that that was the cu- 
 tomary mode ol receiving a prisoner. She said 
 that if it was, she hoped that they would dis- 
 pense with the ceremony in her case, and ask- 
 ed that, for her sake, the men might be dismiss- 
 ed from such attendance in so inclement a sea- 
 son. The men blessed her for her goodness, and 
 kneeled down and prayed that God would pre 
 terve her. 
 
 She was extremely unwilling to go into tb 
 prison. As they approached the part of the ed- 
 ifice where she was to be confined, through the 
 court-yard of the Tower, she stopped and sat 
 down upon a stone, perhaps a step, or the curb 
 tone of a walk. The lieutenant urged her to
 
 110 QUEEN ELIZABETH [1554. 
 
 EUttbodTi ln<flnmtio wd friet She ti clotty tmprUone* 
 
 go in out of the cold and wet. " Bettor sitting 
 here than in a worse place," she replied, " for 
 God knoweth whither you are bringing me." 
 However, she rose and went on. She entered 
 the prison, was conducted to her room, and the 
 doors were locked and bolted upon her. 
 
 Elizabeth was kept closely imprisoned for a 
 month ; after that, some little relaxation in the 
 strictness of her seclusion was allowed. Per- 
 mission was very reluctantly granted to her to 
 walk every day in the royal apartments, which 
 were now unoccupied, so that there was no so- 
 ciety to be found there, but it afforded her a 
 sort of pleasure to range through them for rec- 
 reation and exercise. But this privilege could 
 not be accorded without very strict limitations 
 and conditions. Two officers of the Tower and 
 three women had to attend her ; the window*, 
 too, were shut, and she was not permitted to 
 go and look out at them. This was rather mel- 
 ancholy recreation, it must be allowed, but it 
 was better than being shut up all day in a sin- 
 gle apartment, bolted and barred. 
 
 There was a small garden within the castle 
 not far from the prison, and after some time 
 Elizabeth was permitted to walk there. Tna 
 pates and doors, however, were kept carefully
 
 1554.] ELIZABETH iw THE TOWEE 113 
 
 EBxaboth in the garden. The Httto child and the flower* 
 
 closed, and all the prisoners, whose rooms looked 
 Into it from the surrounding buildings, were 
 closely watched by their respective keepers, 
 while Elizabeth was in the garden, to prevent 
 their having any communication with her by 
 ooks or signs. There were a great many per- 
 sons confined at this time, who had been ar- 
 rested on charges connected with Wyatt's re- 
 bellion, and the authorities seem to have been 
 rery specially vigilant to prevent the possibil- 
 ity of Elizabeth's having communication with 
 any of them. There was a little child of five 
 years of age who used to come and visit Eliza- 
 beth in her room, and bring her flowers. He 
 was the son of one of the subordinate officers 
 of the Tower. It was, however, at last suspect- 
 ed that he was acting as a messenger between 
 Elizabeth and Courteney. Courteney, it will 
 be recollected, had been sent by Mary back to 
 the Tower again, so that he and Elizabeth were 
 now suffering the same hard fate in neighbor- 
 ing cells. When the boy was suspected of bear- 
 Ing communications between these friends and 
 companions in suffering, he was called before 
 an officer and closely examined. His answer* 
 were all open and childlike, and gave no con- 
 firmation to the idea which had bean entertain* 
 268
 
 114 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1554 
 
 CUmbeth greatly alarmed. Her removal from the Town* 
 
 ed. The child, however, was forbidden to go 
 to Elizabeth's apartment any more. He WM 
 Tory much grieved at this, and he watched foi 
 the next time that Elizabeth was to walk in 
 the garden, and putting his mouth to a hole in 
 the gate, he called out, " Lady, I can not bring 
 you any more flowers." 
 
 After Elizabeth had been thus confined about 
 three months, she was one day terribly alarmed 
 by the sounds of martial parade within the Tow- 
 er, produced by the entrance of an officer from 
 Queen Mary, named Sir Thomas Beddingfield, 
 at the head of three hundred men. Elizabeth 
 supposed that they were come to execute sen- 
 tence of death upon her. She asked immedi- 
 ately if the platform on which Lady Jane Grey 
 was beheaded had been taken away. They 
 told her that it had been removed. She waa 
 then somewhat relieved. They afterward told 
 her that Sir Thomas had come to take her awaj 
 "rom the Tower, but that it was not known 
 where she was to go. This alarmed her again, 
 and she sent for the constable of the Tower, 
 whose name was Lord Chandos, and questioned 
 him very closely to learn what they were going 
 to do with her. He said that it had been de- 
 *ided to remove her from the Tower, and send
 
 1554.] ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER. 115 
 
 Elizabeth's tear*. Mary'i design* 
 
 her to a plaoe called Woodstock, where she waa 
 to remain under Sir Thomas Beddingfield's cus- 
 tody, at a royal palace which was situated there. 
 Woodstock is forty or fifty miles to the west- 
 ward ? London, and not far from the city of 
 Oxfori. 
 
 Elizabeth was very much alarmed at this in- 
 telligence. Her mind was filled with vague 
 and uncertain fears and forebodings, which 
 were none the less oppressive for being uncer- 
 tain and vague. She had, however, no imme- 
 diate cause for apprehension. Mary found that 
 there was no decisive evidence against her, and 
 did not dare to keep her a prisoner in the Tow- 
 er too long. There was a large and influential 
 part of the kingdom who were Protestants. 
 They were jealous of the progress Mary was 
 making toward bringing the Catholic religion 
 in again. They abhorred the Spanish match. 
 They naturally looked to Elizabeth as their lead- 
 er and head, and Mary thought that by too great 
 or too long-continued harshness in her treat- 
 ment of Elizabeth, she would only exasperate 
 them, and perhaps provoke a new outbreak 
 against her authority. She determined, there- 
 fore, to remove the princess from the Tower to 
 tome less odious place of confinement
 
 116 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1554 
 
 BUibeth taken to Richmond. Mary's plan for marrying tor 
 
 She was taken first to Queen Mary's court, 
 which was then held at Richmond, just above 
 London ; but she was surrounded here by sol- 
 diers and guards, and confined almost as strict* 
 ly as before She was destined, however, here 
 tc another surprise. It was a proposition oi 
 marriage. Mary had been arranging a plan 
 for making her the wife of a certain personage 
 styled the Duke of Savoy. His dominions were 
 on the confines of Switzerland and France, and 
 Mary thought that if her rival were once mar- 
 ried and removed there, all the troubles which 
 she, Mary, had experienced on her account 
 would be ended forever. She thought, too, that 
 her sister would be glad to accept this offer, 
 which opened such an immediate escape from 
 the embarrassments and sufferings of her situa- 
 tion in England. But Elizabeth was prompt, 
 decided, and firm in the rejection of this plan. 
 England was her home, and to be Queen of En- 
 gland the end and aim of all her wishes and 
 plans She had rather continue a captive for 
 the present in her native land, than to live in 
 splendor as the consort of a sovereign duke be- 
 yond the Rhone. 
 
 Mary then ordered Sir Thomas Beddingfield 
 to take her to Woodstock. She traveled on
 
 l554.] ELIZABETH IN THE ToWEB. 117 
 
 Blxabeth'i Journey to Woodstock. Christnuu feativitie* 
 
 horseback, and was several days on the journey 
 Her passage through the country attracted great 
 Attention. The people assembled by tfte way- 
 aide, expressing their kind wishes, and offering 
 her gifts. The bells were rung in the village* 
 through which she passed. She arrived finally 
 at Woodstock, and was shut up in the palace 
 there. 
 
 This was in July, and she remained in Wood- 
 stock more than a year, not, however, always 
 very closely confined. At Christmas she was 
 taken to court, and allowed to share in the fes- 
 tivities and rejoicings. On this occasion it 
 was the first Christmas after the marriage of 
 Mary and Philip the great hall of the palace 
 was illuminated with a thousand lamps. The 
 princess sat at table next to the king and queen. 
 She was on other occasions, too, taken away 
 for a time, and then returned again to her se- 
 clusion at Woodstock. These changes, perhaps, 
 only served to make her feel more than ever the 
 hardships of her lot. They say that one day, 
 as she sat at her window, she heard a milk* 
 maid singing in the fields, in a blithe and mer- 
 ry strain, and said, with a sigh, that she wished 
 she was a milk-maid too. 
 
 King Philip, after his marriage, gradually
 
 118 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1555 
 
 BlMbeth pentU in her innocence. The torch-light Ttdt 
 
 interested himself in her behalf, and exorted hia 
 influence to have her released ; and Mary's min- 
 isters had frequent interviews with her, and en- 
 deavored b induce her to make some confession 
 of guilt, and to petition Mary for release as a 
 matter of mercy. They could not, they said, 
 release her while she persisted in her innocence, 
 without admitting that they and Mary had been 
 in the wrong, and had imprisoned her unjustly. 
 But the princess was immovable. She declar- 
 ed that she was perfectly innocent, and that she 
 would never, therefore, say that she was guilty. 
 She would rather remain in prison for the truth, 
 than be at liberty and have it believed that she 
 had been guilty of disloyalty and treason. 
 
 At length, one evening in May, Elizabeth 
 received a summons to go to the palace and 
 yisit Mary in her chamber. She was conduct- 
 ed there by torch-light. She had a long inter- 
 view with the queen, the conversation being 
 partly in English and partly in Spanish. It wat 
 not very satisfactory on either side. Elizabeth 
 persisted in asserting her innocence, but in 
 other respects she spoke in a kind and concilia- 
 tory manner to the queen. The interview ended 
 in a sort of reconciliation. Mary put a valua- 
 ble ring upon Elizabeth's finger in token of the
 
 1555.) ELIZABETH IN THE TOWER. lli> 
 
 Keconcilatlon between Eliaabeth and Mary. Elizabeth'* releue. 
 
 renewal of friendship, and soon afterward the 
 long period of restraint and confinement was 
 ended, and the princess returned to her own es- 
 tate at Hatfield in Hertfordshire, where she 
 lived some time in seclusion, devoting herself, 
 ir. a great measure, to the study of Latin and 
 Greek, under the instructions of Roger Ascham.
 
 120 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [556 
 
 Miry uuluppy rein. Unrequited IOT 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 
 
 TF it were the story of Mary instead of that 
 " of Elizabeth that we were following, we 
 should have now to pause and draw a very 
 melancholy pioture of the scenes which dark- 
 ened the close of the queen's unfortunate and 
 unnappy history. Mary loved her husband, but 
 she could not secure his love in return. He 
 treated her with supercilious coldness and neg- 
 lect, and evinced, from time to time, a degree 
 of interest in other ladies which awakened her 
 jealousy and anger. Of all the terrible convul- 
 sions to which the human soul is subject, there 
 is not one wb'ch agitates it more deeply than 
 the tumult of feeling produced by the mingling 
 of resentment and love. Such a mingling, or, 
 rather, such a conflict, between passions appa- 
 lently inconsistent with each other, is generally 
 considered not possible by those who have nevei 
 experienced it. But it is possible. It is possi 
 ble to be stung with a sense of the ingratitude, 
 and selfishness, and cruelty of an object, which,
 
 1555.] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 121 
 
 Vary's suffering*. Her religions principle*. 
 
 after all, the heart will persist in clinging to 
 with the fondest affection. Vexation and anger, 
 a burning sense of injury, and desire for revenge, 
 on the one hand, and feelings of love, resistless 
 and uncontrollable, and bearing, in their turn, 
 all before them, alternately get possession of the 
 soul, harrowing and devastating it in their aw- 
 ful conflict, and even sometimes reigning over 
 it, for a time, in a temporary but dreadful calm, 
 like that of two wrestlers who pause a moment, 
 exhausted in a mortal combat, but grappling 
 each other with deadly energy all the time, 
 while they are taking breath for a renewal of 
 the conflict. Queen Mary, in one of these par- 
 oxysms, seized a portrait of her husband and 
 tore it into shreds. The reader, who has his or 
 her experience in affairs of the heart yet to 
 come, will say, perhaps, her love for him then 
 must have been all gone. No ; it was at its 
 h sight. We do not tear the portraits of those 
 who are indifferent to us. 
 
 At the beginning of her reign, and, in fact, 
 during all the previous periods of her life, Mary 
 had been an honest and conscientious Catholic. 
 She undoubtedly truly believed that the Chris- 
 tian Church ought to be banded together in one 
 great communion, with the Pope of Rome as its
 
 122 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1555 
 
 riugiMi of Maiy*! Ctholie ieL Her moderation at ftnt 
 
 spiritual head, and that her father had broken 
 away from this communion which was, in fact, 
 strictly true merely to obtain a pretext for get- 
 ting released from her mother. How naturaJ, 
 under such circumstances, that she should have 
 desired to return. She commenced, immediately 
 on her accession, a course of measures to bring 
 the nation back to the Roman Catholic com- 
 munion. She managed very prudently and 
 cautiously at first especially while the affair 
 of her marriage was pending seemingly very 
 ^irous of doing nothing to exasperate those 
 nrho were of the Protestant faith, or even to 
 awaken their opposition. After she was mar- 
 ried, however, her desire to please her Catholic 
 husband, and his widely-extended and influential 
 circle of Catholic friends on the Continent, made 
 her more eager to press forward the work of 
 putting down the Reformation in England ; and 
 as her marriage was now effected, she was less 
 concerned about the consequences of any oppo- 
 sition which she might excite. Then, besides, 
 her temper, never very sweet, was sadly soured 
 by her husband's treatment of her. She vent- 
 ed her ill will upon those who would not yield 
 to her wishes in respect to their religious faith. 
 She caused more and more severe laws to be
 
 123 
 
 Mary*! terrible persecution of the Protestants. Burning at the itekd. 
 
 passed, and enforced them by more and more 
 severe penalties. The more she pressed these 
 violent measures, the more the fortitude and res- 
 guidon of those who suffered from them were 
 aroused. And, on the other hand, the more 
 they resisted, the more determined she became 
 that she would compel them to submit. She 
 went on from one mode of coercion to another, 
 until she reached the last possible point, and 
 inflicted the most dreadful physical suffering 
 which it is possible for man to inflict upon his 
 fellow-man. 
 
 This worst and most terrible injury is to burn 
 the living victim in a fire. That a woman could 
 ever order this to be done would seem to be in- 
 credible. Queen Mary, however, and her gov- 
 ernment, were so determined to put down, at 
 all hazards, all open disaffection to the Catho- 
 lic cause, that they did not give up the contest 
 until they had burned nearly three hundred per- 
 sons by fire, of whom more than fifty were wom- 
 en, and four were children I This horrible per- 
 secution was, however, of no avail. Dissen- 
 tients increased faster than they could be burn- 
 ed ; and such dreadful punishments became at 
 last so intolerably udious to the nation that they 
 were obliged to desist, and then the various
 
 124 QCEEN ELIZABETH. [1537 
 
 The tttto of Moody (Iren to tiu-j. Mary and Elizabeth reooMOMi 
 
 ministers of state concerned in them attempt- 
 ed to throw off the blame upon each other. The 
 English nation have never forgiven Mary foi 
 these atrocities. They gave her the name of 
 Bloody Mary at the time, and she has retained 
 it to the present day. In one of the ancient hi- 
 tories of the realm, at the head of the chapter 
 devoted to Mary, there is placed, as an appro- 
 priate emblem of the character of her reign, the 
 picture of a man writhing helplessly at a stake, 
 with the flames curling around him, and a fe- 
 rocious-looking soldier standing by, stirring up 
 the fire. 
 
 The various disappointments, vexations, and 
 trials which Mary endured toward the close of 
 her life, had one good effect ; they softened the 
 animosity which she had felt toward Elizabeth, 
 and in the end something like a friendship seem- 
 ad to spring up between the sisters. Abandon- 
 ed by her husband, and looked upon with dis- 
 like or hatred by her subjects, and disappointed 
 in all her plans, she seemed to turn at last to 
 Elizabeth for companionship and comfort. The 
 sisters visited each other. First Elizabeth went 
 to London to visit the queen, and was received 
 with great ceremony and parade. Then the 
 queen went to Hatfield to visit the princess, at-
 
 1557.] ACCESSION TO THE THRSNE. 125 
 
 Bceoea of fertiTfty. The wv with Fnao 
 
 tended by a large company of ladies and gentle- 
 men of the court, and several day* were spent 
 there in festivities and rejoicings. There were 
 plays in the palace, and a bear-bailing in the 
 *>urt-yard, and hunting in the park, and many 
 uthcr schemes of pleasure. This renewal of 
 friendly intercourse between the queen and the 
 princess brought the latter gradually out of her 
 retirement Now that the queen began to evince 
 a friendly spirit toward her, it was safe for oth- 
 ers to show her kindness and to pay her atten 
 tion. The disposition tc do this increased rap- 
 idly as Mary's health gradually declined, and it 
 began to be understood that she would not live 
 long, and that, consequently, Elizabeth would 
 soon be called to the throne. 
 
 The war which Mary had been drawn into 
 with France, by Philip's threat that he would 
 never see her again, proved very disastrous. 
 The town of Calais, which is opposite to Dover, 
 across the straits, and, of course, on the French 
 wde of the channel, had been in the possession 
 of the English for two hundred years. It was 
 very gratifying to English pride to hold posses- 
 sion of such a stronghold on the French shore; 
 but now every thing seemed to go against Mary, 
 was defended by a citadel nearly as large
 
 126 <4uEEN ELIZABETH. [1558 
 
 L ef CalaU. Murmur* at the EtgBak 
 
 as the town itself, and was deemed impregna- 
 ble. In addition to this, an enormous English 
 force was concentrated there. The French gen 
 eral, however, contrived, partly by stratagem, 
 and partly by overpowering numbers of troops, 
 and ships, and batteries of cannon, to get pos- 
 session of the whole. The English nation were 
 indignant at this result. Their queen and her 
 government, so energetic in imprisoning and 
 burning her own subjects at home, were pow- 
 erless, it seemed, in coping with their enemies 
 abroad. Murmurs of dissatisfaction were heard 
 every where, and Mary sank down upon her 
 sick bed overwhelmed with disappointment, vex- 
 ation, and chagrin. She said that she should 
 die, and that if, after her death, they examined 
 her body, they would find Calais like a loatf 
 upon her heart 
 
 In the mean time, it must have been Eliza- 
 beth's secret wish that she would die, sinoe her 
 death would release the princess from all the 
 embarrassments and restraints of her position, 
 and raise her at once to the highest pinnacle 
 of honor and power. She remained, now ever, 
 quietly at Hatfield, acting in all things in a 
 very discreet and cautious manner. At one 
 time she received proposals from the King o
 
 1557.] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 127 
 
 Ung of Swedan'i propoasl to Elisabeth. Marjr't energy 
 
 Sweden that she would accept of his son as her 
 husband. She asked the embassador if he had 
 communicated the affair to Mary. On his re- 
 plying that he had not, EJbzabeth said that she 
 could not entertain at all any such question, 
 unless her sister were first consulted and should 
 give her approbation. She acted on the same 
 principles in every thing, being very cautious to 
 give Mary a'nd her government no cause of 
 complaint against her, and willing to wait pa- 
 tiently until her own time should come. 
 
 Though Mary's disappointments and losses 
 filled her mind with anguish and suffering, they 
 did not soften her heart. She seemed to grow 
 more cruel and vindictive the more her plans 
 and projects failed. Adversity vexed and irri- 
 tated, instead of calming and subduing her 
 She revived her persecutions of the Protest- 
 ants. She fitted out a fleet of a hundred and 
 twenty ships to make a descent upon the French 
 coast, and attempt to retrieve her fallen fortunes 
 there. She called Parliament together and ask- 
 ed for more supplies. All this time she was 
 confined to her sick chamber, but not considered 
 in danger. The Parliament were debating the 
 question of supplies. Her privy council were 
 holding daily meetings to carry out the plant
 
 128 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1558 
 
 Mary'i prlrj council alarmed Their perplexity 
 
 and schemes which she still continued to form, 
 and all was excitement and bustle in and around 
 the court, when one day the council was thun- 
 derstruck by an announcement that she wa 
 dying. 
 
 They knew very well that her death would 
 be a terrible blow to them. They were all 
 Catholics, and had been Mary's instruments in 
 the terrible persecutions with which she had 
 oppressed the Protestant faith. With Mary's 
 death, of course they would fall. A Protestant 
 princess was ready, at HatfielJ, to ascend the 
 throne. Every thing would be changed, and 
 there was even danger that they might, in their 
 turn, be sent to the stake, in retaliation for the 
 cruelties which they had caused others to suffer. 
 They made arrangements to have Mary's death, 
 whenever it should take place, concealed for a 
 few hours, till they could consider what they 
 should do. 
 
 There was nothing that they could do. There 
 Was now no other considerable claimant to the 
 throne but Elizabeth, except Mary Queen of 
 Soot*, who was far away in France. She was 
 a Catholic, it was true ; but to bring her into 
 the country and place her upon the throne 
 eemed to be a hopeless undertaking. Queen
 
 1558.] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 
 
 CaeerUintj about Klixabeth's future course. Her canflon* policy 
 
 Mary's counselors soon found that they must 
 give up their cause in despair. Any attempt 
 to resist Elizabeth's claims would be high trea- 
 son, and, of course, if unsuccessful, would bring 
 the heads of all concerned in it to the block. 
 
 Besides, it was not certain that Elizabeth 
 wauld act decidedly as a Protestant. She had 
 been very prudent and cautious during Mary's 
 reign, and had been very careful never to man- 
 ifest any hostility to the Catholics. She never 
 had acted as Mary had done on the occasion 
 of her brother's funeral, when she refused even 
 to countenance with her presence the national 
 service because it was under Protestant forms. 
 Elizabeth had always accompanied Mary to 
 mass whenever occasion required ; she had al- 
 ways spoken respectfully of the Catholic faith ; 
 and once she asked Mary to lend her some Cath- 
 olic books, in order that she might inform her- 
 self more fully on the subject of the principles 
 of the Roman faith. It is true, she acted thus 
 not because there was any real leaning in hei 
 mind toward the Catholic religion ; it was all 
 merely a wise and sagao ous policy. Surround- 
 ed by difficulties and dangers as she was dur- 
 ing Mary's reign, her only hope of safety was 
 in passing as quietly as possible along, and man* 
 269
 
 130 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1558. 
 
 Death of Mary. Announcement to Parliament 
 
 aging warily, so as to keep the hostility which 
 was burning secretly against her, from break 
 ng out into an open flame. This was her ob- 
 ct in retiring so much from the court and from 
 *U participation in public affairs, in avoiding all 
 religions and political contests, and spending her 
 time in the study of Greek, and Latin, and 
 philosophy. The consequence was, that when 
 Mary died, nobody knew certainly what course 
 Elizabeth would pursue. Nobody had any 
 strong motive for opposing her succession. The 
 council, therefore, after a short consultation, con- 
 cluded to do nothing but simply to send a mes- 
 sage to the House of Lords, announcing to them 
 the unexpected death of the queen. 
 
 The House of Lords, on receiving this intel- 
 ligence, sent for the Commons to come into their 
 hall, as is usual when any important commu- 
 nication is to be made to them either by the 
 Lords themselves or by the sovereign. The 
 chancellor, who is the highest civil officer of the 
 kingdnm in respect to rank, and who p esidet 
 ! n the House of Lords, clothed in a magnificent 
 intique costume, then rose and announced to 
 the Commons, standing before him, the death 
 Df the sovereign. There was a moment's sol- 
 emn pause, such as propriety on the occasion of
 
 1558.J ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 131 
 
 Elizabeth proclaimed. Joy of the people. 
 
 an announcement like this required, all thought* 
 being, too, for a moment turned to the chambei 
 where the body of the departed queen was ly- 
 ing. But the sovereignty was no longer there 
 The mysterious principle had fled with the part- 
 Jng breath, and Elizabeth, though wholly un- 
 conscious of it, had been for several hours the 
 queen. The thoughts, therefore, of the august 
 and solemn assembly lingered but for a moment 
 in the royal palace, which had now lost all its 
 glory ; they soon turned spontaneously, and with 
 eager haste, to the new sovereign at Hatfield, 
 and the lofty arches of the Parliament hall rung 
 with loud acclamations, " God save Queen Eliz- 
 abeth, and grant her a long and happy reign." 
 The members of the Parliament went forth 
 immediately to proclaim the new queen. There 
 are two principal places where it was then cus- 
 tomary to proclaim the English sovereigns. One 
 if these was before the royal palace at West- 
 minster, and the other in the city of London, 
 it a very public place called the Great Cross 
 it Cheapside. The people assembled in great 
 crowds at these points to witness the ceremony, 
 and received the announcement which the her- 
 aids made, with the most ardent expressions of 
 y. The bells w<re every wher^ rung ; table*
 
 132 QUEEN ELISABETH. [1558 
 
 The Te Deum. EHzabaCb'* motiwM 
 
 were spread in the streets, and booths erected , 
 bonfires and illuminations were prepared for the 
 evening, and every thing indicated a deep wnJ 
 universal joy. 
 
 In fact, this joy was so strongly expressed at 
 to be even in some degree disrespectful to th 
 memory of the departed queen. There is a fa- 
 mous ancient Latin hymn which has long been 
 sung in England and on the Continent of Eu- 
 rope on occasions of great public rejoicing. It 
 is called the Te Deum, or sometimes the Te 
 Deum Laudamus. These last are the three 
 Latin words with which the hymn commences, 
 and mean, Thee, God, we praise. They sung 
 the Te Deum in the churches of London on 
 the Sunday after Mary died. 
 
 In the mean time, messengers from the coun- 
 cil proceeded with all speed to Hatfield, to an- 
 nounce to Elizabeth the death of her sister, and 
 her own accession to the sovereign power. The 
 tidings, of course, filled Elizabeth's mind with 
 the deepest emotions. The oppressive sense of 
 constraint and danger which she had endured 
 as her daily burden for so many years, was lifted 
 suddenly from her soul. She could not but re- 
 joice, though she was too much upon her guard 
 to express her joy. She was overwhelmed with
 
 1558.] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE 133 
 
 Ceefl made secretary of state. HU faithfulne** 
 
 * profound agitation, and, kneeling down, she 
 exclaimed in Latin, " It is the Lord's doing; 
 tnd it is wonderful : n our eyes." 
 
 Several of the members of Mary's privy coun- 
 cil repaired Lmraediately to HatfiekL The 
 queen summoned them to attend her, and in 
 their presence appointed her chief secretary of 
 state. His name was Sir William Cecil. He 
 was a man of great learning and ability, and he 
 remained in office under Elizabeth for forty 
 years. He became her chief adviser and instru- 
 ment, an able, faithful, and indefatigable serv- 
 ant and friend during almost the whole of her 
 reign. His name is accordingly indissolubly 
 connected with that of Elizabeth in all the po- 
 litical events which occurred while she contin- 
 ued upon the throne, and it will, in consequence, 
 very frequently occur in the sequel of this his- 
 tory. He was now about forty years of age. 
 Elizabeth was twenty-five. 
 
 Elizabeth had known Cecil 'ong before. Ha 
 had been a faithful and true friend to her in hei 
 adversity. He had been, in many oases, a con- 
 fidential adviser, and had maintained a secret 
 correspondence with her in certain trying peri- 
 ods of her life. She had resolved, doubtless, tc 
 make him her chief secretary of state so sooi
 
 134 C^UEEN ELIZABETH. [1558 
 
 Elzbth'i charge to CeeO. Her journey to London 
 
 as she should succeed to the throne. And now 
 that the time had arrived, she instated him sol- 
 emnly in his office. In so doing, she pronounc- 
 ed, in the hearing of the other members of the 
 council, the following charge : 
 
 " I give you this charge that you shall be of 
 my privy council, and content yourself to take 
 pain* for me and my realm. This judgment 1 
 have of you, that you will not be corrupted with 
 any gift ; and that you will be faithful to the 
 state ; and that, without respect of my private 
 will, you will give me that counsel that you 
 think best; and that, if you shall know any 
 thing necessary to be declared to me of secrecy 
 you shall show it to myself only ; and assure 
 yourself I will not fail to keep taciturnity there- 
 in. And therefore herewith I charge you." 
 
 It was about a week after the death of Mary 
 before the arrangements were completed for 
 Elizabeth's journey to London, to take posse* 
 sion of the castles and palaces which pertair 
 there to the English sovereigns. She was fol 
 lowed on this journey by a train of about a thou- 
 sand attendants, all nobles or personages of high 
 rank, both gentlemen and ladies. She went 
 first to a palace called the Charter House, neai
 
 1558.] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 137 
 
 JCiimbeth's triunaphnt entrant* into th T*wer. 
 
 London, where she stopped until preparation* 
 could be made for her formal and public entrance 
 Into the Tower ; not, as before, through the Trai- 
 tors' Gate, a prisoner, but openly, through tne 
 grind entrance, in the midst of acclamations 
 as the proud and applauded sovereign of the 
 mighty realm whose capital the ancient fortress 
 was stationed to defend. The streets through 
 which the gorgeous procession was to pass were 
 spread with fine, smooth gravel ; bands of mu- 
 sicians were stationed at intervals, and decora- 
 ted arches, and banners, and flags, with count- 
 less devices of loyalty and welcome, and waving 
 handkerchiefs, greeted her all the way. Heralds 
 and other great officers, magnificently dressed, 
 and mounted on horses richly caparisoned, rode 
 before her, announcing her approach, with trum- 
 pets and proclamations; while she followed in 
 the train, mounted upon a beautiful horse, the 
 object of universal homage. Thus Elizabeth 
 entered the Tower ; and inasmuch as forgetting 
 her friends is a fault with which she can not just- 
 ly be charged, we may hope, at least, that one of 
 the first acts which she performed, after getting 
 established in the royal apartments, was to sond 
 for and reward the kind-hearted child who had 
 been tenrimanded for bringing her the flower*.
 
 138 Q.UEEN ELIZABETH. [1558 
 
 The coronation. Pageanta in the itrceti 
 
 The coronation, when the time arrived for it, 
 was very splendid. The queen went in state 
 in a sumptuous chariot, preceded by trumpetf n 
 and heralds in armor, and accompanied by a 
 long train of noblemen, barons, and gentlemen, 
 and also of ladies, all most richly dressed in 
 crimson velvet, the trappings of the horses be- 
 ing of the same material. The people of Lon- 
 don thronged all the streets through which she 
 was to pass, and made the air resound with 
 shouts and acclamations. There were triumph- 
 al arches erected here and there on the way, 
 with a great variety of odd and quaint devices, 
 and a child stationed upon each, who explain- 
 ed the devices to Elizabeth as she passed, ir 
 English verse, written for the occasion. On* 
 of these pageants was entitled " The Seat of 
 worthy Governance." There was a throne, 
 supported by figures which represented the car- 
 dinal virtues, such as Piety, Wisdom, Temper- 
 ance, Industry, Truth, and beneath their "eet 
 were the opposite vices, Superstition, Ignorance, 
 Intemperance, Idleness, and Falsehood: these 
 the virtues were trampling upon. On the throne 
 was a representation of Elizabeth. At one place 
 were eight personages dressed to represent the 
 night beatitudes pronounced by our Savior in
 
 1558.] ACCESSION TO THE THRONE. 139 
 
 DerioM. Presentation f the Bible. The hetry pmna 
 
 his sermon on the Mount the meek, the merci- 
 ful, &o. Each of these qualities was ingenious' 
 ly ascribed to Elizabeth. This could be done 
 with much more propriety then than in subse- 
 quent years. In another place, an ancient fig- 
 ure, representing Time, came out of a cave which 
 had been artificially constructed with great in- 
 genuity, leading his daughter, whose name was 
 Truth. Truth had an English Bible in her 
 hands, which she presented to Elizabeth as she 
 passed. This had a great deal of meaning ; for 
 the Catholic government of Mary had disoour 
 aged the circulation of the Scriptures in the ver 
 nacular tongue. When the procession arrived 
 in the middle of the city, some officers of the 
 city government approached the queen's char- 
 iot, and delivered to her a present of a very large 
 and heavy purse tilled with gold. The que^n 
 had to employ both hands in lifting it in. It 
 contained an amount equal in value to two 01 
 three thousand dollars. 
 
 The queen was very affable and gracious to 
 all the people on the way. Poor women would 
 oome up to her carriage and offer her flowers, 
 which she would very condescendingly accept 
 Several times she stopped her carriage when 
 he saw that any one wished to speak with bar
 
 140 QUERN ELIZABETH. [1558 
 
 n* png W I'niainry. The wedding rinf 
 
 or had something to offer ; and so great was the 
 exaltation of a queen in those days, in the esti- 
 mation of mankind, that these acts were con- 
 tidered by all the humble citizens of London as 
 acts of very extraordinary affability, and they 
 awakened universal enthusiasm. There was 
 one branch of rosemary given to the queen by 
 a poor woman in Fleet Street ; the queen put 
 it up conspicuously in the carriage, where it re- 
 mained all the way, watched by ten thousand 
 eyes, till it got to Westminster. 
 
 The coronation took place at Westminster on 
 the following day. The crown was placed upon 
 the young maiden's head in the midst of a great 
 throng of ladies and gentlemen, who were all 
 superbly dressed, and who made the vast edifice 
 in which the service was performed ring with 
 their acclamations and their shouts of " Long 
 live the Queen !" During the ceremonies, Eliz- 
 abeth placed a wedding ring upon her finger 
 with great formality, to denote that she consid- 
 ered the occasion as the celebration of her es- 
 pousal to the realm of England ; she was that 
 day a bride, and should never have, she said, any 
 other husband. She kept this, the only wed- 
 ding ring she ever wore, upon her finger, with- 
 oat once removing it, for more than forty year*
 
 1559.1 THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. l4J 
 
 BiMbetfa uul Umrj Qaaoi of Scot*. Tb*r 
 
 CHAPTER VI L 
 THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 QUEEN Elizabeth and Mary Queen of 
 Scots are strongly associated together in 
 the minds of all readers of English history. 
 They were cotemporary sovereigns, reigning at 
 the same time over sister kingdoms. They 
 were cousins, and yet, precisely on account of 
 the family relationship which existed between 
 them, they became implacable foes. The rival- 
 ry and hostility, sometimes open and sometimes 
 concealed, was always in action, and, after a 
 contest of more than twenty years, Elizabeth 
 triumphed. She made Mary her prisoner, kept 
 her many years a captive, and at last closed the 
 contest by commanding, or at least allowing, 
 her fallen rival to be beheaded. 
 
 Thus Elizabeth had it all her own way .vhile 
 the scenes of her life and of Mary's were trans* 
 piring, but since that time mankind have gen- 
 erally sympathized most strongly with the con- 
 quered- one, and condemned the conqueror 
 There are several reasons for this, and among
 
 142 <4uEBN ELIZABETH. [1559 
 
 Character of Mary. Character of KUiabetk. 
 
 them is the vast influence exerted by the dif- 
 ference in the personal character of the parties. 
 Mary was beautiful, feminine in spirit, and love- 
 ly. Elizabeth was talented, masculine, and 
 plain. Mary was artless, unaffected, and gen- 
 tie. Elizabeth was heartless, intriguing, and 
 Insincere. With Mary, though her ruling prin- 
 ciple was ambition, her ruling passion was love. 
 Her love led her to great transgressions and into 
 many sorrows, but mankind pardon the sins 
 and pity the sufferings which are caused by love 
 more readily than those of any other origin. 
 With Elizabeth, ambition was the ruling prin- 
 ciple, and the ruling passion too. Love, with 
 her, was only a pastime. Her transgressions 
 were the cool, deliberate, well-considered acts 
 of selfishness and desire of power. During her 
 lifetime her success secured her the applauses 
 of the world. The world is always ready to 
 glorify the greatness which rises visibly before 
 it, and to forget sufferings which are meekly 
 and patiently borne in seclusion and solitude. 
 Men praised and honored Elizabeth, therefore, 
 while she lived, and neglected Mary. But since 
 the halo and the fascination of the visible great- 
 ness and glory have passed away, they have 
 fcnind a far greater charm in Mary's beauty and
 
 1559] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 143 
 
 dMbeth'i celebrity while tiring. Interest In Mary when de*d 
 
 misfortune than in her great rival's pride and 
 power. 
 
 There is often thus a great difference in the 
 comparative interest we take in persons or 
 scenes, when, on the one hand, they are reali- 
 ties before our eyes, and when, on the other, 
 they are only imaginings which are brought to 
 our minds by pictures or descriptions. The 
 hardships which it was very disagreeable or 
 painful to bear, afford often great amusement 
 or pleasure in the recollection. The old broken 
 gate which a gentleman would not tolerate an 
 hour upon his grounds, is a great beauty in the 
 picture which hangs in his parlor. We shun 
 poverty and distress while they are actually ex- 
 isting ; nothing is more disagreeable to us ; and 
 we gaze upon prosperity and wealth with never- 
 ceasing pleasure. But when they are gone, 
 and we have only the tale to hear, it is the story 
 of sorrow and suffering which possesses the 
 charm. Thus it happened that when the two 
 queens were living realities, Elizabeth was \he 
 center of attraction and the object of universal 
 homage ; but when they came to be themes of 
 history, all eyes and hearts began soon to turn 
 instinctively to Mary. It was London, and 
 Westminster, and Kenilworth that possessed
 
 144 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1559 
 
 KM) M&UV of tbe quantion at UMUC between Mkry and KlwUxrtk. 
 
 the interest while Elizabeth lived, but it is Holy- 
 rood and Loch Leven now. 
 
 It results from these causes that Mary's story 
 read iar more frequently than Elizabeth's, 
 and this operates still further to the advantage 
 of the former, for we are always prone to take 
 sides with the heroine of the tale we are reading 
 All these considerations, which have had so 
 much influence on the judgment men form, or, 
 rather, on the feeling to which they incline in 
 this famous contest, have, it must be confessed, 
 very little to do with the true merits of the case 
 Ajid if we make a serious attempt to lay all suob 
 considerations aside, and to look into the con- 
 troversy with cool and rigid impartiality, we 
 shall find it very difficult to arrive at any satis- 
 factory conclusion. There are two questions to 
 be decided. In advancing their conflicting 
 claims to the English crown, was it Elizabeth 
 or Mary that was in the right? If Elizabeth 
 was right, were the measures which she resort- 
 ed to to secure her own rights, and to counteract 
 Maiy's pretensions, politically justifiable ? We 
 do not propose to add our own to the hundred de- 
 cisions which various writers have given to this 
 question, but only to narrate the facts, and leave 
 <*ach reader to come to his own conclusions
 
 1659.] THE WAR in SCOTLAND. 146 
 
 Ib* two marriage*. One or the other neccttuily muQ. 
 
 The foundation of the long and dreadful quar- 
 rel between these royal cousins was, as has been 
 already remarked, their consanguinity, which 
 made them both competitors for the same throne ; 
 *nd as that throne was, in some respects, the 
 highest and most powerful in the world, it is 
 not surprising that two such ambitious women 
 should be eager and persevering in their contest 
 for it. By turning to the genealogical table on 
 page 68, where a view is presented of the royal 
 family of England hi the tune of Elizabeth, the 
 reader will see once more what was the precise 
 relationship which the two queens bore to each 
 other and to the succession. By this table it is 
 rery evident that Elizabeth was the true in- 
 heritor of the crown, provided it were admit- 
 ted that she was the lawful daughter and heir 
 of King Henry the Eighth, and this depended 
 on the question of the validity of her father's 
 marriage with his first wife, Catharine of Ar*- 
 gon ; for, as has been before said, he was mar- 
 ried to Anne Boleyn before obtaining any thing 
 like a divorce from Catharine; consequently, 
 the marriage with Elizabeth's mother could not 
 be legally valid, unless that with Catharine had 
 been void from the beginning. The friends of 
 Mary Queen of Scots maintained that it wai 
 
 2610
 
 149 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1559 
 
 Vtewi of Mary ' frlendi. Views of Elisabeth's friend* 
 
 not thus void, and that, consequently, the mar- 
 riage with Anne Boleyn was null ; that Eliza* 
 beth, therefore, the descendant of the marriage, 
 was not, legally and technically, a daughter of 
 Henry the Eighth, and, consequently, not enti- 
 tled to inherit his crown ; and that the crown, 
 of right, ought to descend to the next heir, that 
 is, to Mary Queen of Scots herself. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth's friends and partisans main- 
 tained, on the other hand, that the marriage of 
 King Henry with Catharine was null and void 
 from the beginning, because Catharine had been 
 before the wife of his brother. The circumstan- 
 ces of this marriage were very curious and pe- 
 culiar. It was his father's work, and not his 
 own. His father was King Henry the Seventh. 
 Henry the Seventh had several children, and 
 among them were his two oldest sons, Arthur 
 and Henry. When Arthur was about sixteen 
 years old, his father, being very much in wanl 
 of money, conceived the plan of replenishing hb 
 coffers by marrying his son to a rich wife He 
 accordingly contracted a marriage between him 
 and Catharine of Aragon, Catharine's father 
 agreeing to pay him two hundred thousand 
 crowns as her dowry. The juvenile bridegroom 
 enjoyed the honors and pleasures of married 
 Jfe for a few months, and then died.
 
 1559.] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 147 
 
 Circumstances of Henry the Eighth's first marriage. 
 
 This event was a great domestic calamity to 
 the king, not because he mourned the loss of 
 his son, but that he could not bear the idea of 
 the loss of the dowry. By the law and usage 
 in such cases, he was bound not only to forego 
 the payment of the other half of the dowry, but 
 he had himself no right to retain the half that 
 he had already received. While his son lived, 
 being a minor, the father might, not improper- 
 ly, hold the money in his son's name ; but when 
 he died this right ceased, and as Arthur left no 
 child, Henry perceived that he should be obliged 
 to pay back the money. To avoid this un- 
 pleasant necessity, the king conceived the plan 
 of marrying the youthful widow again to his 
 second boy, Henry, who was about a year 
 younger than Arthur, and he made proposals 
 to this effect to the King of Aragon. 
 
 The King of Aragon made no objection to 
 this proposal, except that it was a thing un- 
 heard of among Christian nations, or heard of 
 only to be condemned, for a man or even a boy 
 to marry his brother's widow. All laws, human 
 and divine, were clear and absolute against this. 
 Still, if the dispensation of the pope could be 
 obtained, he would make no objection. Catha- 
 rine might espouse the second boy, and he would
 
 148 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1559. 
 
 The papal dispensation. Doubts about it. 
 
 allow the one hundred thousand crowns already 
 paid to stand, and would also pay the other 
 hundred thousand. The dispensation was ac- 
 cordingly obtained, and every thing made ready 
 for the marriage. 
 
 Very soon after this, however, and before the 
 new marriage was carried into effect, King 
 Henry the Seventh died, and this second boy, 
 now the oldest son, though only about seven- 
 teen years of age, ascended the throne as King 
 Henry the Eighth. There was great discussion 
 and debate, soon after his accession, whether 
 the marriage which his father had arranged 
 should proceed. Some argued that no papal 
 dispensation could authorize or justify such a 
 marriage. Others maintained that a papal dis- 
 pensation could legalize any thing ; for it is a 
 doctrine of the Catholic Church that the pope 
 has a certain discretionary power over all laws, 
 human and divine, under the authority given 
 to his great predecessor, the Apostle Peter, by 
 the words of Christ : " Whatsoever thou shall 
 bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and 
 whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be 
 loosed in heaven."* Henry seems not to have 
 puzzled his head at all with the iegat question ; 
 
 * Matthew, xvi., l&.
 
 1559.] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 149 
 
 England turns Protestant The marriage annulled. 
 
 he wanted to have the young widow for his 
 wife, and he settled the affair on that ground 
 alone. They were married. 
 
 Catharine was a faithful and dutiful spouse ; 
 but when, at last, Henry fell in love with Anne 
 Boleyn, he made these old difficulties a pretext 
 for discarding her. He endeavored, as has been 
 already related, to induce the papal authorities 
 to annul their dispensation ; because they would 
 not do it, he espoused the Protestant cause, and 
 England, as a nation, seceded from the Catho- 
 lic communion. The ecclesiastical and parlia- 
 mentary authorities of his own realm then, be- 
 ing made Protestant, annulled the marriage, 
 and thus Anne Boleyn, to whom he had pre- 
 viously been married by a private ceremony, 
 became legally and technically his wife. If 
 this annulling of his first marriage were valid, 
 then Elizabeth was his heir otherwise not; 
 for if the pope's dispensation was to stand, then 
 Catharine was a wife. Anne Boleyn would in 
 that case, of course, have been only a compan- 
 ion, and Elizabeth, claiming through her, a 
 usurper. 
 
 The question, thus, was very complicated. It 
 branched into extensive ramifications, which 
 opened a wide field of debate, 'and led to end-
 
 150 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1559. 
 
 Mary in France. She becomes Queen of France. 
 
 less controversies. It is not probable, however, 
 that Mary Queen of Scots, or her friends, gave 
 themselves much trouble about the legal points 
 at issue. She and they were all Catholics, and 
 it was sufficient for them to know that the 
 Holy Father at Rome had sanctioned the mar- 
 riage of Catharine, and that that marriage, if 
 allowed to stand, made her the Queen of En- 
 gland. She was at this time in France. She 
 had been sent there at a very early period of 
 her life, to escape the troubles of her native land, 
 and also to be educated. She was a gentle and 
 beautiful child, and as she grew up amid the 
 gay scenes and festivities of Paris, she became 
 a very great favorite, being universally beloved. 
 She married at length, though while she was 
 still quite young, the son of the French king. 
 Her young husband became king himself soon 
 afterward, on account of his father's being kill- 
 ed, in a very remarkable manner, at a tourna- 
 ment ; and thus Mary, Queen of Scots before, 
 became also Queen of France now. All these 
 events, passed over thus very summarily here, 
 are narrated in full detail in the History of 
 Mary Queen of Scots pertaining to this series. 
 While Mary was thus residing in France as 
 the wife of the king, she was surrounded by a
 
 1559.] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 151 
 
 Mmry ' piwtenrioni to the English erowm. Ettbeth' fear* 
 
 very large and influentia . circle, who were Cath- 
 olics like herself, and who were also enemies of 
 Elizabeth and of England, and glad to find any 
 pretext for disturbing her reign. These per- 
 sons brought forward Mary's claim. They per- 
 suaded Mary that she was fairly entitled to the 
 English crown. They awakened her youthful 
 ambition, and excited strong desires in her 
 heart to attain to the high elevation of Queen 
 of England. Mary at length assumed the title 
 in some of her official acts, and combined the 
 arms of England with those of Scotland in the 
 escutcheons with which her furniture and her 
 plate were emblazoned. 
 
 When Queen Elizabeth learned that Mary 
 was advancing such pretensions to her crown, 
 she was made very uneasy by it There was, 
 perhaps, no immediate danger, but then there 
 was a very large Catholic party in England, 
 and they would naturally espouse Mary's cause 
 and they might, at some future time, gather 
 strength so as to make Elizabeth a great dea 
 af trouble. She accordingly sent an embassa- 
 dor over to France to remonstrate against Ma- 
 ry's advancing these pretensions. But she could 
 get no satisfactory reply. Mary would not dis- 
 avow her claim to Elizabeth's crown, nor would
 
 152 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1559. 
 
 MaMnrM of EUnbeth. Progress of Protestanttan In Bcotlmxi 
 
 she directly assert it. Elizabeth, then, know* 
 ing that all her danger lay in the power and in- 
 fluence of her own Catholic subjects, went to 
 work, Tory cautiously and warily, but in a very 
 extended and efficient way, to establish the Ref- 
 ormation, and to undermine and destroy all tra- 
 ces of Catholic power. She proceeded in thia 
 work with great circumspection, so as not to 
 excite opposition or alarm. 
 
 In the mean time, the Protestant cause was 
 making progress in Scotland too, by its own in- 
 herent energies, and against the influence of the 
 government. Finally, the Scotch Protestants 
 organized themselves, and commenced an open 
 rebellion against the regent whom Mary had 
 left in power while she was away. They sent 
 to Elizabeth to come and aid them. Mary and 
 her friends in France sent French troops to as- 
 sist the government. Elizabeth hesitated very 
 much whether to comply with the request of 
 the rebels It is very dangerous for a sovereign 
 to countenance rebellion in any way. Then 
 the shrunk, too, from the expense which she 
 foresaw that such an attempt would involve 
 To fit out a fleet, and to levy and equip an army, 
 and to continue the forces thus raised in action 
 during a long and uncertain campaign, would
 
 1560.] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 153 
 
 Mffloaldet IM Scotland. EHMbeOi'i lBtorfarx^ 
 
 cost a large sum of money, and Elizabeth was 
 constitutionally economical and frugal. But 
 then, on the other hand, as she deliberated 
 open the affair long and anxiously, both alone 
 and with her council, she thought that, if she 
 should so far succeed as to get the government 
 of Scotland into her power, she could compel 
 Mary to renounce forever all claims to the En< 
 glish crown, by threatening her, if she wouM 
 not do it, with the loss of her own. 
 
 Finally, she decided on making the attempt 
 Cecil, her wise and prudent counselor, strongly 
 advised it He said it was far better to carry 
 on the contest with Mary and the French in 
 one of their countries than in her own. She be- 
 gan to make preparations. Mary and the French 
 government, on learning this, were alarmed in 
 their turn. They sent word to Elizabeth that 
 for her to render countenance and aid to rebels 
 in arms against their sovereign, in a sister king- 
 dom, was wholly unjustifiable, and they remon- 
 trated most earnestly against it. Besides mak- 
 ing this remonstrance, they offered, as an induce* 
 ment of another kind, that if she would refrain 
 from taking any part in the contest in Scotland, 
 they would restore to her the great town and 
 citadel of Calais, which her sister had been sc
 
 154 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 frottlaM negotiation*. The wv COM <m 
 
 much grieved to lose. To this Elizabeth re- 
 plied that, so long as Mary adhered to her pre- 
 tensions to the English crown, she should be 
 compelled to take energetic measures to protect 
 herself from them; and as to Calais, the pos- 
 session of a fishing town on a foreign coast wa* 
 of no moment to her in comparison with the 
 peace and security of her own realm. This 
 answer did not tend to close the breach. Be- 
 sides the bluntness of the refusal of their offer, 
 the French were irritated and vexed to hear their 
 famous sea-port spoken of so contemptuously. 
 
 Elizabeth accordingly fitted out a fleet and 
 an army, and sent them northward. A French 
 fleet, with re-enforcements for Mary's adherent* 
 in this contest, set sail from France at about the 
 same time. It was a very important question 
 to be determined which of these two fleets should 
 get first upon the stage of action. 
 
 In the mean time, the Protestant party in 
 Scotland, or the rebels, as Queen Mary and 
 her government called them, had had very hard 
 work to maintain their ground. There was a 
 large French force already there, and their co- 
 operation and aid made the government too 
 itrong for the insurgents to resist. But, when 
 Rlizabeth's English army crossed the. frontier.
 
 1560.] THE WAR n SCOTLAND 157 
 
 Th French ihut np tn Leitk. Situation of the tow*. 
 
 the face of affairs was changed. The French 
 forces retreated in their turn. The English 
 army advanced. The Scotch Protestants came 
 forth from the recesses of the Highlands tc 
 which they had retreated, and, drawing closer 
 and closer around the French and the govern- 
 ment forces, they hemmed them in more and 
 more narrowly, and at last shut them up in the 
 ancient town of Leith, to which they retreated 
 in search of a temporary shelter, until the French 
 fleet, with re-enforcements, should arrive. 
 
 The town- of Leith is on the shore of the 
 Firth of Forth, not far from Edinburgh. It is 
 the port or landing-place of Edinburgh, in ap- 
 proaching it from the sea. It is on the south- 
 ern shore of the firth, and Edinburgh stands on 
 higher land, about two miles south of it Leith 
 was strongly fortified in those days, and the 
 French army felt very secure there, though yet 
 anxiously awaiting the arrival of the fleet which 
 was to release them. The English army ad- 
 vanced in the mean time, eager to get posses 
 sion of the city before the expected succors 
 hould arrive. The English made an assault 
 upon the walls. The French, with desperate 
 bravery, repelled it. The French made a sor- 
 tie ; that is, they rushed out of a sudden and
 
 158 QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 The RnglUh victorious. The Treaty of Edinburgh 
 
 attacked the English lines. The English con- 
 oentrated their forces at the point attacked, and 
 drove them back again. These struggles con- 
 tinued, both sides very eager for victory, and 
 both watching all the time for the appearance 
 of a fleet in the offing. 
 
 At length, one day, a cloud of white sails ap- 
 peared rounding the point of land which forms 
 'the southern boundary of the firth, and the 
 French were thrown at once into the highest 
 state of exultation and excitement. But this 
 pleasure was soon turned into disappointment 
 and chagrin by finding that it was Elizabeth's 
 fleet, and not theirs, which was coming into 
 view. This ended the contest. The French 
 fleet never arrived. It was dispersed and de- 
 stroyed by a storm. The besieged army sent 
 out a flag of truce, proposing to suspend hostil- 
 ities until the terms of a treaty could be agreed 
 upon. The truce was granted. Commission- 
 ers were appointed on each side These com- 
 missioners met at Edinburgh, and agreed upon 
 the terms of a permanent peace. The treaty, 
 which is called in history the Treaty of Edin- 
 burgh, was solemnly signed by the commission- 
 ers appointed to make it, and then transmitted 
 to England and to France tr> b ratified by th
 
 1560.] THE WAR IN SCOTLAND. 159 
 
 Stipulations of the treaty. Mary refuses to ratify U. 
 
 respective queen*. Queen Elizabeth's forces 
 and the French forces were then both, as the 
 treaty provided, immediately withdrawn. The 
 lispute, too, between the Protestants and the 
 Catholics in Scotland was also settled, though 
 rt is not necessary for our purpose in this nar- 
 rative to explain particularly in what way. 
 
 There was one point, however, in the stipula- 
 tions of this treaty which is of essential import- 
 ance in this narrative, and that is, that it waa 
 agreed that Mary should relinquish all claims 
 whatever to the English crown so long as Eliz- 
 abeth lived. This, in fact, was the essential 
 point in the whole transaction. Mary, it is 
 true, was not present to agree to it; but the 
 commissioners agreed to it in her name, and it 
 was stipulated that Mary should solemnly ratify 
 the treaty as soon as it could be sent to her. 
 
 But Mary would not ratify it at least so far 
 as this last article was concerned. She said 
 that she had no intention of doing any thing to 
 moiest Elizabeth in her possession of the throne, 
 but that as to herself, whatever rights might 
 legally and justly belong to her, she could not 
 consent to sign them away. The other articles 
 of the treaty had, however, in the mean time, 
 brought the vrar to a close, and both the Frenck
 
 160 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 Death of Miry'i hu*band. She retumi to Scotland 
 
 and English armies were withdrawn. Neithei 
 party had any inclination to renew the conflict ; 
 but yet, so far as the great question between 
 Mary and Elizabeth was concerned, the diffi- 
 unlty was as far from being settled as ever. In 
 feet, it was in a worse position than before ; for, 
 in addition to her other grounds of complaint 
 against Mary, Elizabeth now charged her with 
 dishonorably refusing to be bound by a compact 
 which had been solemnly made in her name, by 
 agents whom she had fully authorized to make it 
 It was about this time that Mary's husband, 
 the King of France, died, and, after enduring 
 various trials and troubles in France, Mary con- 
 cluded to return to her own realm. She sent 
 to Elizabeth to get a safe-conduct a sort of 
 permission allowing her to pass unmolested 
 through the English seas. Elizabeth refused 
 to grant it unless Mary would first ratify the 
 treaty of Edinburgh. This Mary would not do, 
 but undertook, rather, to get home without the 
 permission. Elizabeth sent ships to intercept 
 her ; but Mary's little squadron, when they ap- 
 proached the shore, were hidden by a fog, and 
 o she got safe to land. After this there was 
 quiet between Mary and Elizabeth for many 
 rears, but no peace.
 
 1560.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 161 
 
 Clitmanti to tb* throoe. General chancier of EHs*beth'i raifa 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 
 
 j^LIZABETH was now securely establisheo 
 -^ upon her throne. It is true that Mary 
 Queen of Scots had not renounced her preten- 
 sions, but there was no immediate prospect of 
 her making any attempt to realize them, and 
 very little hope for her that she would be suc- 
 cessful, if she were to undertake it. There were 
 other claimants, it is true, but their claims were 
 more remote and doubtful than Mary's. These 
 conflicting pretensions were likely to make the 
 country some trouble after Elizabeth's death, 
 but there was very slight probability that they 
 would sensibly molest Elizabeth's possession of 
 the throne during her lifetime, though they 
 caused her no little anxiety. 
 
 The reign which Elizabeth thus commenced 
 was one of the longest, most brilliant, and, n 
 many respects, the most prosperous in the whole 
 series presented to our view in the long succes- 
 sion of English sovereigns. Elizabeth contin 
 Mod a queen for forty-five years, during all which 
 2611
 
 162 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 Elisabeth i miton. Their motto* 
 
 time she remained a single lady ; and she died, 
 %t last, a venerable maiden, seventy years of age, 
 It was not for want of lovers, or, rather, of 
 admirers and suitors, that Elizabeth lived single 
 all her days. During the first twenty years of 
 her reign, one half of her history is a history of 
 matrimonial schemes and negotiations. It seem- 
 ed as if all the marriageable princes and poten- 
 tates of Europe were seized, one after another, 
 with a desire to share her seat upon the English 
 throne. They tried every possible means to 
 win her consent. They dispatched embassa- 
 dors ; they opened long negotiations ; they sent 
 her ship-loads of the most expensive presents : 
 some of the nobles of high rank in her own realm 
 expended their vast estates, and reduced them- 
 selves to poverty, in vain attempts to please her. 
 Elizabeth, like any other woman, loved these 
 attentions They pleased her vanity, and grat- 
 ttted those instinctive impulses of the female 
 heart by which woman is fitted for happiness 
 and love. Elizabeth encouraged the hopes of 
 those who addressed her sufficiently to keef 
 them from giving up in despair and abandoning 
 her And in one or two cases she seemed tr 
 oorue very near yielding. But it always hap 
 pened that, when the time arrived in which
 
 1560.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 163 
 
 Philip of Spain proposes. HU strange conduct 
 
 final decision must be made, ambition and de- 
 sire of power proved stronger than love, and she 
 preferred continuing to occupy her lofty position 
 lay herself, alone. 
 
 Philip of Spain, the husband of her sistei 
 Mary, was the first of these suitors. He had 
 seen Elizabeth a good deal in England during 
 his residence there, and had even taken her 
 part in her difficulties with Mary, and had ex- 
 erted his influence to have her released from 
 her confinement. As soon as Mary died and 
 Elizabeth was proclaimed, one of her first acts 
 was, as was very proper, to send an embassa- 
 dor to Flanders to inform the bereaved husband 
 of his loss. It is a curious illustration of the 
 degree and kind of affection that Philip had 
 borne to his departed wife, that immediately on 
 receiving intelligence of her death by Elizabeth's 
 embassador, he sent a special dispatch to his 
 own embassador in London to make a proposal 
 to Elizabeth to take him for her husband ! 
 
 Elizabeth decided very soon to decline this 
 proposal. She had ostensible reasons, and real 
 reasons for this. The chief ostensible reason 
 was, that Philip was so inveterately hated by 
 all the English people, and Elizabeth was ex* 
 tremely desirous of being popular. She relied
 
 164 QL-KKN ELIZABKTH. [1560 
 
 Kttubeth deelinet Phlllp'i prepoML Her reMoo* for *o doinfl 
 
 solely on the loyalty and faithfulness of her Prot- 
 estant subjects to maintain her rights to the sue- 
 cession, and she knew that if she displeased 
 them by such an unpopular Catholic marriage, 
 ker reliance upon them must be very much 
 weakened. They might even abandon her en- 
 tirely. The reason, therefore, that she assigned 
 publicly was, that Philip was a Catholic, and 
 that the connection could not, on that account, 
 be agreeable to the English people. 
 
 Among the real reasons was one of a very 
 peculiar nature. It happened that there was 
 an objection to her marriage with Philip simi- 
 lar to the one urged against that of Henry with 
 Catharine of Aragon. Catharine had been tho 
 wife of Henry's brother. Philip had been tho 
 husband of Elizabeth's sister. Now Philip had 
 offered to procure the pope's dispensation, by 
 which means this difficulty would be surmount- 
 ed. But then all the world would say, that if 
 this dispensation could legalize the latter mar- 
 riage, the former must have been legalized by 
 it, and this would destroy the marriage of Anne 
 Boleyn, and with it all Elizabeth's claims to the 
 ftuooession. She could not, then, marry Philip, 
 without, by the very act, effectually undermin- 
 ing all her own rights to the throne. She wa
 
 1500.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 166 
 
 The English people wiah Elizabeth to bo married. 
 
 far too subtle and wary to stumble into such a 
 pitfat as that. 
 
 Elizabeth rejected this and some other offers, 
 aud one or two years passed away. In the 
 mean time, the people of the country, though 
 they had no wish to have her marry such a 
 stern and heartless tyrant as Philip of Spain, 
 were very uneasy at the idea of her not being 
 married at all. Her life would, of course, in 
 due time, come to an end, and it was of im- 
 mense importance to the peace and happiness 
 of the realm that, after her death, there should 
 be no doubt about the succession. If she were 
 to be married and leave children, they would 
 succeed to the throne without question ; but if 
 she were to die single and childless, the result 
 would be, they feared, that the Catholics would 
 espouse the cause of Mary Queen of Scots, and 
 the Protestants that of some Protestant descend- 
 ant of Henry VII., and thus the country be in- 
 volved in all the horrors of a protracted civil war. 
 
 The House of Commons in those days was a 
 very humble council, convened to discuss and 
 settle mere internal and domestic affairs, and 
 standing at a vast distance from the splendoi 
 and power of royalty, to which it looked up with 
 the profoundest reverence and awe. The Com-
 
 166 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 Ncttkm of the ParlluMt ElUmbeth'i " fndont" reply 
 
 monv, at the close of one of their sessions, ven- 
 tured, in a very timid and cautious manner, to 
 end a petition to the queen, urging her to con- 
 sent, for the sake of the future peace of the 
 realm, and th" welfare of her subjects, to accept 
 of a husband. Few single persons are offended 
 at a recommendation of marriage, if properly 
 offered, from whatever quarter it may come. 
 The queen, in this instance, returned what was 
 called a very gracious reply. She, however, 
 very decidedly refused the request. She said 
 that, as they had been very respectful in the 
 form of their petition, and as they had confined 
 it to general terms, without presuming to sug- 
 gest either a person or a time, she would not 
 take offense at their well-intended suggestion, 
 but that she had no design of ever being mar- 
 ried. At her coronation, she was married, she 
 said, to her people, and the wedding ring was 
 upon her finger still. Her people were the ob- 
 jects of all her affection and regard. She should 
 never have any other spouse. She said she 
 honld be well contented to have it engraved 
 upon her tomb-stone, " Here lies a qn^en wtv> 
 lived and died a virgin." 
 
 This answer silenced the Common*, but it 
 did not settle the question in the public mind
 
 1560.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 16? 
 
 BUabeth attacked with the nnafl-pox Aim at the enatry 
 
 Cases often oootir of ladies saying very positive- 
 ly that they shall never consent to be married, 
 and yet afterward altering their minds; and 
 many ladies, knowing how frequently this takes 
 place, sagaciously conclude that, whatever se- 
 cret resolutions they may form, they will be si- 
 lent about them, lest they get into a position 
 from which it will be afterward awkward to re- 
 treat. The princes of the Continent and the 
 nobles of England paid no regard to Elizabeth's 
 declaration, but continued to do all in their pow- 
 er to obtain her hand. 
 
 One or two years afterward Elizabeth was 
 attacked with the small-pox, and for a time was 
 dangerously sick, in iact, for some days her 
 life was despaired of, and the country was thrown 
 into a great state of confusion and dismay. Par- 
 ties began to form the Catholics for Mary 
 Queen of Soots, and the Protestants for the fam- 
 ily of Jane Grey. Every thing portended a 
 dreadful contest Elizabeth, however, recov- 
 ered ; but the country had been so much alarm* 
 ed at their narrow escape, that Parliament ven- 
 tured once more to address the queen on the 
 subject of her marriage. They begged that she 
 would either consent to that measure, or, if she 
 was finally determined not to do that, that shr
 
 168 QuBKif ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 Tto E*rt of LekMtoi. HU ehanetnr 
 
 would cause a law to be passed, or an edict to 
 oe promulgated, deciding beforehand who was 
 really to succeed to the throne in the event of 
 ner deooase. 
 
 Elizabeth would not do either. Historian* 
 have speculated a great deal upon her motives ; 
 all that is certain is the fact, she would not do 
 jither. 
 
 But, though Elizabeth thus resisted all the 
 plans formed for giving her a husband, she had, 
 in her own court, a famous personal favorite, 
 who has always been considered as in some 
 ense her lover. His name was originally Rob- 
 ert Dudley, though she made him Earl of Lei- 
 cester, and he is commonly designated in histo- 
 ry by this latter name. He was a son of the 
 Duke of Northumberland, who was the leader 
 of the plot for placing Lady Jane Grey upon 
 the throne in the time of Mary. He was a 
 very elegant and accomplished man, and young, 
 though already married. Elizabeth advanced 
 him to high offices and honors very early in her 
 reign, and kept him much at court She made 
 him her Master of Horse, but she did not be- 
 stow upon him much real power. Cecil waa 
 ner great counselor and minister of state. Ho 
 was a oool, sagacious, wary man, entirely de-
 
 POBTBAIT OF TH* E*.L OF LBIOBSTBB.
 
 1560.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 
 
 of Ocll EUaaiMth'i attachment to Leicester 
 
 voted to Elizabeth's interests, and to the glory 
 and prosperity of the realm. He was at this 
 time, as has already been stated, forty years of 
 age, thirteen or fourteen years older than Eliz- 
 abeth. Elizabeth showed great sagacity in se- 
 lecting such a minister, and great wisdom in 
 keeping him in power so long. He remained 
 in her service all his life, and died at last, only 
 a few years before Elizabeth, when he was near- 
 ly eighty years of age. 
 
 Dudley, on the other hand, was just about 
 Elizabeth's own age. In fact, it is said by some 
 of the chronicles of the times that he was born 
 on the same day and hour with her. However 
 this may be, he became a great personal favor- 
 ite, and Elizabeth evinced a degree and kind 
 of attachment to him which subjected her to a 
 great deal of censure and reproach. 
 
 She could not be thinking of him for her hus- 
 band, it would seem, for he was already mar- 
 ried. Just about this time, however, a myste- 
 rious circumstance occurred, which produced a 
 great deal of excitement, and has ever since 
 marked a very important era in the history of 
 Leicester and Elizabeth's attachment. It was 
 the sudden and rery singular death of Leices- 
 ter's wife.
 
 172 (^UBEN ELIZABETH. [1560 
 
 ' wife. Her AjntarioM death. 
 
 Leicester had, among his other estates, a 
 lonely mansion in Berkshire, about fifty miles 
 jrest of London. It was called Cumnor House. 
 Leicester's wife was sent there, no one knew 
 why; she went under the charge of a gentle- 
 man who was one of Leicester's dependents, and 
 entirely devoted to his will. The house, too, 
 was occupied by a man who had the character 
 of being ready for any deed which might be re 
 quired of him by his master. The name of 
 Leicester's wife was Amy Robesart. 
 
 In a short time news came to London that 
 the unhappy woman was killed by a fall down 
 stairs ! The instantaneous suspicion darted at 
 once into every one's mind that she had been 
 murdered. Rumors circulated all around the 
 place where the death had occurred that she 
 had been murdered. A conscientious clergy- 
 man of the neighborhood sent an account of the 
 case to London, to the queen's ministers, star 
 ing the facts, and urging the queen to order ai 
 investigation of the affair, but nothing was ever 
 done. It has accordingly been the general be 
 lief of mankind since that time, that the un- 
 principled courtier destroyed his wife in the *ain 
 hope of becoming afterward the husband o' the 
 queen
 
 1560.] ELIZABKTH'S LOVBRS. 173 
 
 Leicester hated by the people. Variotu nnnon. 
 
 The people of England were greatly incensed 
 at this transaction. They had hated Leicester 
 before, and they hated him now more inveterate- 
 ly still. Favorites are very generally hated ; 
 royal favorites always. He, however, grew more 
 and more intimate with the queen, and every 
 body feared that he was going to be her hus- 
 band. Their conduct was watched very close- 
 ly by all the great world,, and, as is usual in 
 such cases, a thousand circumstances and oc- 
 currences were reported busily from tongue to 
 tongue, which the actors in them doubtless sup- 
 posed passed unobserved or were forgotten. 
 
 One night, for instance, Queen Elizabeth, 
 having supped with Dudley, was going home in 
 her chair, lighted by torch - bearers. At the 
 present day, all London is lighted brilliantly at 
 midnight with gas, and ladies go home from 
 their convivial and pleasure assemblies in lux- 
 urious carriages, in which they are rocked gen- 
 tly along through broad and magnificent ave- 
 nues, as bright, almost, as day. Then, how- 
 ever, it was very different. The lady was 
 borne slowly along through narrow, and dingy, 
 and dangerous streets, witJr % train of torches 
 before and behind her, dispelling the darkness 
 a moment with their glare, and then leaving it
 
 x74 QJKKN ELIZABETH. [1560. 
 
 fb torch-light conrrMtlon. The orrmnU qnarntl 
 
 more deep and somber than ever. On the night 
 of which we are speaking, Elizabeth, feeling in 
 good humor, began to talk with some of the 
 torch-bearers on the way. They were Dudley's 
 men, and Elizabeth began to praise their mas- 
 ter. She said to one of them, among other 
 things, that she was going to raise him to a 
 higher position than an} of his name had ever 
 borne before. Now, as Dudley's father was a 
 duke, which title denotes the highest rank of 
 the English nobility, the man inferred that the 
 queen's meaning was that she intended to mar- 
 ry him, and thus make him a sort of king. The 
 man told the story boastingly to one of" the 
 servants of Lord Arundel, who was also a suit- 
 or of the queen's. The servants, each taking 
 the part of his master in the rivalry, quarreled. 
 Lord Arundel's man said that he wished that 
 Dudley had been hung witn nis father, or else 
 that somebody would shoot him in the street 
 arith a dag. A dag was, in the language of 
 those days, the name for a pistol. 
 
 Time moved on, and though Leicester seem- 
 ed to become more and more a favorite, the 
 }oian of his being married to Elizabeth, if any 
 uoh were entertained by either paity, appeared 
 *o oome no nearer to an aocommishment. Eli*
 
 1561.] ELIZABETH'S LOVBRS. 175 
 
 pUadid style of Byte*. PwhUc m*mmti* 
 
 abeth lived in great state and splendor, some* 
 times residing in ner palaces in or near London, 
 and sometimes making royal progresses about 
 her dominions. Dudley, together with the other 
 prominent members of her court, accompanied 
 her on these excursions, and obviously enjoyed 
 a very high degree of personal favor. She en- 
 couraged, at the same time, her other suitors, 
 so that on all the great public occasions of state, 
 at the tilts and tournaments, at the plays 
 which, by-the-way, in those days were perform- 
 ed in the churches on all the royal progresses 
 and grand receptions at cities, castles, and uni- 
 versities, the lady queen was surrounded al- 
 ways by royal or noble beaux, who made her 
 presents, and paid her a thousand compliments, 
 and offered her gallant attentions without num- 
 ber all prompted by ambition in the guise of 
 love. They smiled upon the queen with a per- 
 petual sycophancy, and gnashed their teeth se- 
 cretly upon each other with a hatred which, 
 unlike the pretended love, was at least honest 
 and sincere. Leicester was the gayest, most 
 accomplished, and most favored of them all, and 
 the rest accordingly combined and agreed in 
 hating him more than they did each other. 
 Queen Elizabeth, however, never really aV
 
 176 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1561 
 
 Eiiabcfh reeommendj Leicester to Mary Qnaea of Scott. 
 
 mitted that she had any design of making Lei- 
 oester, or Dudley, as he is indiscriminately call- 
 ed, her husband. In fact, at one time she rec- 
 ommended him to Mary Queen of Soots for 
 husband. After Mary returned to Scotland, 
 the two queens were, for a time, on good terms, 
 as professed friends, though they were, in fact, 
 all the time, most inveterate and implacable 
 foes ; but each, knowing how much injury the 
 other might do her, wished to avoid exciting 
 any unnecessary hostility. Mary, particularly, 
 as she found she could not get possession of the 
 English throne during Elizabeth's life-time, 
 concluded to try to conciliate her, in hopes to 
 persuade her to acknowledge, by act of Parlia- 
 ment, her right to the succession after her 
 death. So she used to confer with Elizabeth 
 on the subject of her own marriage, and to ask 
 her advice about it. Elizabeth did not wish to 
 have Mary married at all, and so she always 
 proposed somebody who she knew would be out 
 of the question. She at one time proposed Lei- 
 oeater, and for a time seemed quite in earnest 
 about it, especially so long as Mary seemed 
 averse to it. At length, however, when Mary, 
 in order to test her sincerity, seemed inclined 
 to yield, Elizabeth retreated in her turn, and
 
 1562.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 177 
 
 Mary marrUi Dtnley. . Kttiabeth'i rUit to BJwfl wor*. 
 
 withdrew her proposals. Mary then gave np 
 th hope of satisfying Elizabeth in any way 
 and married Lord Darnley without her consent 
 Elizabeth's regard for Dudley, however, still 
 sun tinned. She made him Earl of Leicester, 
 ml granted him the magnificent castle of Ken- 
 ilworth, with a large estate adjoining and sur- 
 rounding it ; the rents of the lands giving him 
 & princely income, and enabling him to live in 
 almost royal state. Queen Elizabeth visited 
 him frequently in this castle. One of these vis- 
 its is very minutely described by the chroniclers 
 of the times. The earl made the most expens- 
 ive and extraordinary preparations for the re- 
 ception and entertainment of the qusen and her 
 retinue on this occasion. The moat which is 
 a broad canal filled with water surrounding the 
 castle had a floating island upon it, with a 
 fictitious personage whom they called the lady 
 of the lake upon the island, who sung a song in 
 praise of Elizabetn as she passed the bridge. 
 There was also an artificial dolphin swimming 
 upon the water, with a band of musicians with- 
 in it. As the queen advanced across the park, 
 men and women, in strange disguises, came out 
 to meet her, and to offer her salutations and 
 praises. One was dressed as a sibyl, another 
 2612
 
 178 CiuEEN ELIZABETH. t 1577 
 
 L*of*tcr't marriage. EUMbeth (and* him to prlxm 
 
 like an American savage, and a third, who wai 
 concealed, represented an echo. This visit was 
 continued for nineteen days, and the stories of 
 the splendid entertainments provided foi the 
 company the plays, the bear-baitings, the fire- 
 works, the huntings, the mock rights, the feast- 
 ings and revelries filled all Europe at the 
 time, and have been celebrated by historians 
 and story-tellers ever since. The Castle of 
 Kenilworth is now a very magnificent heap of 
 ruins, and is explored every year by thousand* 
 of visitors from every quarter of the globe. 
 
 Leicester, if he ever really entertained any 
 serious designs of being Elizabeth's husband 
 at last gave up his hopes, and married anothat 
 woman. This lady had been the wife of tho 
 Earl of Essex. Her husband died very sud- 
 denly and mysteriously just before Leicester 
 married her. Leicester kept the marriage se- 
 cret for some time, and when it came at last to 
 the queen's knowledge she was exceedingly an- 
 gry. She had him arrested and sent to prison. 
 However, she gradually recovered from her fit 
 of resentment, and by degrees restored him to 
 her favor again. 
 
 Twenty years of Elizabeth's reign thus pass- 
 ed away, and no one of all her suitors had sue*
 
 1577.] ELIZABETH'S LOVEEB. 179 
 
 PnprUy of HlMbeth'i relfa. Tta Duke f Aajou 
 
 eeeded in obtaining her hand. All this time her 
 government had been administered with much 
 sffioiency and power. All Europe had been in 
 great commotion during almost the whole pe- 
 riod, on account of the terrible conflicts which 
 were raging between the Catholics and the 
 Protestants, each party having been doing its 
 utmost to exterminate and destroy the other 
 Elizabeth and her government took part, very 
 frequently, hi these contests ; sometimes by ne- 
 gotiations, and sometimes by fleets and armies, 
 but always sagaciously and cautiously, and gen- 
 erally with great effect. In the mean time, 
 however, the queen, being now forty-five years 
 of age, was rapidly approaching the tune when 
 questions of marriage could no longer be enter- 
 tained. Her lovers, or, rather, her suitors, had, 
 one after another, given up the pursuit, and 
 disappeared from the field. One only seemed 
 at length to remain, on the decision of whose 
 fate the final result of the great question of the 
 queen's marriage seemed to be pending. 
 
 It was the Duke of Anjou. Ho was a French 
 prince. His brother, who had been the Duke 
 of Anjou before him, was now King Henry HI. 
 of France. His own name was Francis. He 
 was twenty five years younger than Elizabeth,
 
 180 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1581 
 
 QKhiriM da MwML 8b propoM* kw MM to KlU.b^b. 
 
 and he was only seventeen years of age when 
 It was first proposed that he should marry her. 
 Be was then Duke of Alenpon. It was hi* 
 mother's plan. She was the great Catharine 
 ie Medioi, queen of France, and one of the most 
 extraordinary women, for her talents, her man- 
 agement, and her power, that ever lived. Hav- 
 ing one son upon the throne of France, she want- 
 ed the throne of England for the other. The 
 negotiation had been pending fruitlessly for 
 many years, and now, in 1581, it was vigorous- 
 ly renewed. The duke himself, who was at 
 this time a young man of twenty-four or five, 
 began to be impatient and earnest in his suit. 
 There was, in fact, one good reason why he 
 should be so. Elizabeth was forty-eight, and, un- 
 less the match were soon concluded, the time for 
 effecting it would be obviously forever gone by. 
 He had never had an interview with the 
 queen. He had seen pictures of her, however, 
 and he sent an embassador ovei to England to 
 irge his suit; and to convince Elizabeth how 
 umoh he was in love with her charms The 
 aame of this agent was Simier. He was a 
 very polite and accomplished man, and soon 
 earned the art of winning his way to Eliza- 
 beth's favor. Leicester was very jealous of hi*
 
 . | ELIZABETH'S LOVERS. 183 
 
 HMITI* of the ftrorttef. The bo* 
 
 success. The two favorites soon imbibed a ter 
 rible enmity for each other. They filled th 
 sourt with their quarrels. The progress of the 
 negotiation, however, went on, the people tak- 
 ing sides very violently, some for and some 
 against the projected marriage. The animosi- 
 ties became exceedingly virulent, until at length 
 Simier's life seemed to be in danger. He said 
 that Leicester had hired one of the guards to 
 assassinate him ; and it is a fact, that one day, 
 as he and the queen, with other attendants, 
 were making an excursion upon the river, a shod, 
 was tired from the shore into the barga The 
 shot did no injury except to wound one of the 
 oarsmen, and frighten all the party pretty thor- 
 oughly. Some thought the shot was aimed at 
 Simier, and others at the queen herself. It was 
 afterward proved, or supposed to be proved, that 
 this shot was the accidental discharge of a gun, 
 without any evil intention whatever. 
 
 In the mean time, Elizabeth grew more and 
 more interested in the idea of having the young 
 duke for her husband ; and it seemed as if th 
 maidenly resolutions, which had stood then 
 ground so firmly for twenty years, were to be 
 conquered at last. The more, however, she 
 eemed to approach toward a consent to the
 
 194 QVKKII BLIZABKTK. [158L 
 
 TW poopl* oppOM Ik* mttek The rrngnisnt ooerjpkdod 
 
 measure, the more did all the officers of her gor- 
 ernment, and the nation at large, oppose it 
 There were, in their minds, two insuperable ob 
 jeotions to tha match. The candidate was i 
 Frenchman, and he was a papist. The coun- 
 cil interceded. Friends remonstrated. The na- 
 tion murmured and threatened. A book was 
 published entitled " The Discovery of a gaping 
 Gulf wherein England is like to be swallowed 
 up by another French marriage, unless the Lord 
 forbid the Bans by letting her see the Sin and 
 Punishment thereof." The author cf it haJ 
 his right hand cut oflj for his punishment. 
 
 At length, after a series of most extraordi- 
 nary discussions, negotiations, and occurrences, 
 which kept the whole country in a state of great 
 excitement for a long time, the affair was at 
 last all settled. The marriage articles, both 
 political and personal, were all arranged. The 
 nuptials were to be celebrated in six weeks. 
 The duke came over in great state and waa 
 received with all possible pomp and parade 
 Festivals and banquets were arranged without 
 number, and in the most magnificent style, tr 
 do him and his attendants honor. At one cf 
 them, the queen took off a ring from her finger, 
 and put it upon his, in the presence of a gre1
 
 1581.] ELIZABETH'S LOVERS 185 
 
 n match brokra C The dake 1 . raff*. 
 
 assembly, which was the first announcement to 
 the publio that the affair was finally settled. 
 The news spread every where with great rapid* 
 Hy. It produced in England great consterna- 
 tion and distress, but on the Continent it was 
 welcomed with joy, and the great English alli- 
 ance, now so obviously approaching, was cele- 
 brated with ringing of bells, bonfires, and grand 
 illuminations. 
 
 And yet, notwithstanding all this, as soon aa 
 the obstacles were all removed, and there waa 
 no longer opposition to stimulate the determi- 
 nation of the queen, her heart failed her at last, 
 and she finally concluded that she would not be 
 married, after all She sent for the duke one 
 morning to come and see her. What takes place 
 precisely between ladies and gentlemen when 
 they break off their engagements is not gener 
 ally very publicly known, but the duke came out 
 from this interview in a fit of great vexation and 
 anger. He pullsd off the queen's ring and 
 threw it from him. muttering curses upon the 
 fickleness and faithlessness of women. 
 
 Still Elizabeth would not admit that the 
 match was broken off. She continued to treat 
 the duke with civility and to pay him many 
 honors. He decided, however, to return to tha
 
 196 QuEEri ELIZABETH. [1581 
 
 fbe dak*'* deputu*. 
 
 Continent. She accompanied him a part of the 
 way to the coast, and took leave of him with 
 many professions of sorrow at the parting, and 
 begged him to come back soon. This he prom- 
 ised to do. but he never returned. He lived 
 ome time afterward in comparative neglect and 
 obscurity, and mankind considered the question 
 of the marriage of Elizabeth as now, at last 
 settled forever.
 
 /560-80., PERSONAL CHARACTER. 187 
 
 Opinion* of Elizabeth 1 ! character Th* Catholics and Protowtante 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 PERSONAL CHARACTER. 
 
 "VCANKIND have always been very mneJi 
 *-- divided in opinion in respect to the per- 
 sonal character of Queen Elizabeth, but in one 
 point all have agreed, and that is, that in the 
 management of public affairs she was a wom- 
 an of extraordinary talent and sagacity, com- 
 bining, in a very remarkable degree, a certain 
 cautious good sense and prudence with the most 
 determined resolution and energy. 
 
 She reigned about forty years, and during 
 almost all that time the whole western part of 
 the Continent of Europe was convulsed with the 
 most terrible conflicts between the Protestant 
 and Catholic parties. The predominance of 
 power was with the Catholics, and was, of 
 course, hostile to Elizabeth. She had, more- 
 over, in the field a very prominent competitor 
 for her throne in Mary Queen of Scots. The 
 foreign Protestant powers were ready to aid thia 
 claimant, and there was, besides, in her own 
 dominions a very powerful interest in her favor
 
 188 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560-80 
 
 Partial in England. Klibeth'i wise adminictntlaai 
 
 The great divisions of sentiment in England, 
 and the energy with which each party struggled 
 against its opponents, produced, at all times, 
 prodigious pressure of opposing forces, which 
 bore heavily upon the safety of the state and of 
 Elizabeth's government, and threatened them 
 with continual danger. The administration of 
 public affairs moved on, during all this time, 
 trembling continually under the heavy shocks it 
 was constantly receiving, like a ship staggering 
 on in a storm, its safety depending on the nice 
 equilibrium between the shocks of the seas, tho 
 pressure of the wind upon the sails, and the 
 weight and steadiness of the ballast below. 
 
 During all this forty years it is admitted thai 
 Elizabeth and her wise and sagacious minis- 
 ters managed very admirably. They main- 
 tained the position and honor of England, as a 
 Protestant power, with great success ; and the 
 country, during the whole period, made great 
 progress in the arts, in commerce, and in im- 
 provements of every kind. Elizabeth's great* 
 est danger, and her greatest source of solicitude 
 during her whole reign, was from the claims of 
 Mary Queen of Scots. We have already de- 
 scribed the energetic measures which she took 
 at the commencement of her reign to counter
 
 1560-80.] PERSONAL CHARACTER 
 
 Mary fjimf the English throne. Sho 1< made prisoner by Elizabeth. 
 
 act and head off, at the outset, these dangerous 
 pretensions. Though these efforts were tri- 
 umphantly successful at the time, still the vic- 
 tory was not final. It postponed, but did not 
 destroy, the danger. Mary continued to claim 
 the English throne. Innumerable plots were 
 oeginning to be formed among the Catholics, in 
 Elizabeth's own dominions, for making her 
 queen. Foreign potentates and powers were 
 watching an opportunity to assist in these plans. 
 At last Mary, on account of internal difficulties 
 in her own land, fled across the frontier into 
 England to save her life, and Elizabeth made 
 her prisoner. 
 
 In England, to plan or design the dethrone- 
 ment of a monarch is, in a subject, high trea- 
 son. Mary had undoubtedly designed the de- 
 thronement of Elizabeth, and was waiting only 
 an opportunity to accomplish it. Elizabeth, 
 consequently, condemned her as guilty of trea- 
 son, in effect ; and Mary's sole defense against 
 this charge was that she was not a subject. 
 Elizabeth yielded to this plea, when she first 
 found Mary in her power, so far as not to take 
 her life, but she consigned her to a long and 
 w^ary captivity. 
 
 This, however, onlv made the matter worm
 
 190 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1586 
 
 Varloiu plot*. Enentkm of Mary 
 
 It stimulated the enthusiasm and zeal of all the 
 Catholics in England, to have their leader, and 
 as they believed, their rightful queen, a oaptiv* 
 in the midst of them, and they formed contin- 
 ually the most extensive and most dangerous 
 plots. These plots were discovered and sup- 
 pressed, one after another, each one producing 
 more anxiety and alarm than the preceding. 
 For a time Mary suffered no evil consequences 
 from these discoveries further than an increase 
 of the rigors of her confinement. At last the 
 patience of the queen and of her government 
 was exhausted. A law was passed against 
 treason, expressed in such terms as to include 
 Mary in the liability for its dreadful penalties 
 although she was not a subject, in case of any 
 new transgression ; and when the next case oc- 
 curred, they brought her to trial and condemn- 
 ed her to death. The sentence was executed 
 in the gloomy castle of Fotheringay, where she 
 was then confined. 
 
 As to the question whether Mary or Eliza- 
 beth had the rightful title to the English crown, 
 it has not only never been settled, but from ita 
 very nature it can not be settled. It is one of 
 those oases in which a peculiar contingency oc- 
 ean which runs beyond the doone and reach 1
 
 586.] PERSONAL CHARACTER. 191 
 
 Tha Un possibility of tettling the claim* of Mary and ElUmbeth. 
 
 all the ordinary principles by which analogous 
 oases are tried, and leads to questions which 
 oan not be decided. As long as a hereditary 
 gnccession goes smoothly on, like a river keep- 
 Ing within its banks, we can decide subordinate 
 and incidental questions which may arise ; but 
 when a case occurs in which we have the om- 
 nipotence of Parliament to set off against the 
 infallibility of the pope the sacred obligations 
 of a will against the equally sacred principles 
 of hereditary succession and when we have, at 
 last, two contradictory actions of the same ul- 
 timate umpire, we find all technical grounds of 
 coming to a conclusion gone. We then, aban- 
 doning these, seek for some higher and more 
 universal principles essential in the nature of 
 things, and thus independent of the will and ac- 
 tion of man to see if they will throw any light 
 on the subject. But we soon find oursel\s a? 
 much perplexed and confounded in this inquiry 
 as we were before. We ask, in beginning th* 
 investigation, What is the ground and nature 
 of the right by which any king or queen suo- 
 oeeds to the power possessed by his ancestors f 
 And we give up in despair, not being able to 
 answer even this first preliminary inquiry. 
 Mankind have not, in their estimate of Bill-
 
 192 QUEEN ELIZABETH 1586 
 
 CUMbeth'i duplicity. Her Mhemir^ tr entrap Mary 
 
 abeth's character, condemned so decidedly the 
 substantial acts which she performed, as the 
 duplicity, the false-heartedness, and the false 
 pretensions which she manifested in perform- 
 ing them. Had she said frankly and openly to 
 Mary before the world, If these schemes for rev- 
 olntionizing England and placing yourself upor 
 the throne continue, your life must be forfeited j 
 my own safety and the safety of the realm ab 
 solutely demand it; and then had fairly, and 
 openly, and honestly executed her threat, man- 
 kind would have been silent on the subject, if 
 they had not been satisfied. But if she had 
 really acted thus, she would not have been 
 Elizabeth. She, in fact, pursued a very differ- 
 ent course. She maneuvered, schemed, and 
 planned ; she pretended to be full of the warm- 
 est affection for her cousin ; she contrived plot 
 after plot, and scheme after scheme, to ensnare 
 her ; and when, at last, the execution took place, 
 in obedience to her own formal and written au- 
 thority, she pretended to great astonishment and 
 ige. She never meant that the sentence should 
 take effect. She filled England, France, and 
 Scotland with the loud expressions of her re- 
 gret, and she punished the agents who had ex- 
 ranted her will. This management was
 
 1560-80-] PJZBSONAL CHABACTEB. 193 
 
 lfldn ladle*. Their benevolent spirit. 
 
 vent the friends of Mary from forming plans of 
 revenge. 
 
 This was her character in all things. She 
 was famous for her false pretensions and double 
 dealings, and jet, with all her talents and sa- 
 gacity, the disguise she assumed was sometimes 
 so thin and transparent that her assuming it 
 was simply ridiculous. 
 
 Maiden ladies, who spend their lives, in some 
 respects, alone, often become deeply imbued 
 with a kind and benevolent spirit, which seeks 
 its gratification in relieving the pains and pro- 
 moting tho happiness of all around them. Con- 
 scious that the circumstances which have caused 
 them to lead a single life would secure for them 
 the sincere sympathy and the increased esteem 
 of all who know them, if delicacy and proprie- 
 ty allowed them to be expressed, they feel a 
 strong degree of self-respect, they live happily, 
 and are a continual means of comfort and joy 
 to all around them. This was not so, however, 
 with Elizabeth. She was jealous, petulant, ir- 
 ritable. She envied others the love and the do- 
 mestic enjoyments which ambition forbade her 
 to share, and she seemed to take great pleasure 
 in thwarting and interfering with the plans of 
 
 others for securing this happins*' 
 2613
 
 194 quEEN ELIZABETH. (1560-8Q 
 
 EUaabetb'i MlflihneM and jealousy The maid* of honor. 
 
 One remarkable instance of this kind occur- 
 red. It seems she was sometimes accustomed 
 to ask the young ladies of the court her maid* 
 of honor if they ever thought about being mar- 
 ried, and they, being cunning enough to know 
 what sort of an answer would please the queen 
 always promptly denied that they did so. Oh 
 no ! they never thought about being married at 
 all. There was one young lady, however, art- 
 less and sincere, who, when questioned in thin 
 way, answered, in her simplicity, that she often 
 thought of it, and that she should like to bo 
 married very much, if her father would only 
 consent to her union with a certain gentleman 
 whom she loved. "Ah!" said Elizabeth; "well, 
 I will speak to your father about it, and see 
 what I can do." Not long after this the father 
 of the young lady came to court, and the queen 
 proposed the subject to him. The father said 
 that he had not been aware that his daughter 
 had formed such an attachment, but that he 
 should certainly give his consent, without any 
 hesitation, to any arrangement of that kind 
 which the queen desired and advised. " That 
 JB all, then," said the queen ; " I will do the rest." 
 So she called the young lady into her presence, 
 and told her that her father bad given his fre
 
 1560-80.] PERSONAL CHARACTER. 195 
 
 (stance of Elizabeth's cruelty. Her irritable temper. 
 
 consent. The maiden's heart bounded with joy, 
 and she began to express her happiness and her 
 gratitude to the queen, promising to do every 
 thing in her power to please her, when Eliza- 
 beth interrupted her, saying, "Yes, you will 
 act so as to please me, I have no doubt, but you 
 are not going to be a fool and get married. 
 Your father has given his consent to me, aid 
 not to you, and you may rely upon it you will 
 never get it out of my possession. You were 
 pretty bold to acknowledge your foolishness to 
 me so readily." 
 
 Elizabeth was very irritable, and could never 
 bear any contradiction. In the case even of 
 Leicester, who had such an unbounded influ, 
 ence over her, if he presumed a little too much 
 he would meet sometimes a very severe rebuff 
 such as nobody but a courtier would endure; 
 but courtiers, haughty and arrogant as they are 
 in their bearing toward inferiors, are generally 
 (awning sycophants toward those above them, 
 and they will submit to any thing imaginable 
 from a queen. 
 
 It was the custom in Elizabeth's days, as it 
 is now among the great in European countries, 
 to have a series or suite of rooms, one beyond 
 the other, the inner one being the presence
 
 196 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560-80 
 
 Leicester* friend and the gentleman of the blaek rod. 
 
 chamber, and the others being occupied by at- 
 tendants and servants of various grades, to reg- 
 ulate and control the admission of company. 
 Some of these officers were styled gentlemen of 
 the black rod, that name being derived from 
 peculiar badge of authority which they were 
 accustomed to carry. It happened, one day, 
 that a certain gay captain, a follower of Leices- 
 ter's, and a sort of favorite of his, was stopped 
 in the antechamber by one of the gentlemen of 
 the black rod, named Bowyer, the queen hav- 
 ing ordered him to be more careful and partic- 
 ular in respect to the admission of company. 
 The captain, who was proud of the favor which 
 he enjoyed with Leicester, resented this affront, 
 and threatened the officer, and he was engaged 
 in an altercation with him on the subject when 
 Leicester came in. Leicester took his favor- 
 ite's part, and told the gentleman usher that he 
 was a knave, and that he would have him turn- 
 ed out of office. Leicester was accustomed te 
 feel so much confidence in his power over Eliz- 
 abeth, that his manner toward all beneath him 
 had become exceedingly haughty and overbear- 
 ing. He supposed, probably, that the officer 
 would humble himself at once before his re- 
 bukeft
 
 1560-80.] PKRSONAL CHARACTER. 197 
 
 ntmabath in rage. Her InTectirei glnst I-eieerte* 
 
 The officer, however, instead of this, steppeo 
 directly in before Leicester, who was then go- 
 ing in himself to the presence of the queen ; 
 kneeled before her majesty, related the facts of 
 the case, and humbly asked what it was her 
 pleasure that he should do. He had obeyed her 
 majesty's orders, he said, and had been called 
 imperiously to account for it, and threatened 
 violently by Leicester, and he wished now to 
 know whether Leicester was king or her maj- 
 esty queen. Elizabeth was very much dis- 
 pleased with the conduct of her favorite. She 
 turned to him, and, beginning with a sort of 
 oath which she was accustomed to use when 
 irritated and angry, she addressed him in in- 
 vectives and reproaches the most severe. She 
 gave him, in a word, what would be called a 
 scolding, were it not that scolding is a term not 
 sufficiently dignified for history, even for such 
 humble history as this. She told him that she 
 had indeed shown him favor, but her favo* 
 was not so fixed and settled upon him that no* 
 body else was to have any share, and that if he 
 imagined that he could lord it over her hous*- 
 hold, she would contrive a way very soon to 
 convince him of his mistake. There was one 
 mifttress to rule there, she said, hu* no maste>
 
 198 QTKKN ELIZABETH. [1560-80 
 
 Llter'i chagrin. Elizabeth's powers of tlre 
 
 She then dismissed Bowyer, telling Leicester 
 that, if any evil happened to him, she should 
 hold him, that is, Leicester, to a strict account 
 for it, as she should be convinced it would have 
 oome through his means. 
 
 Leicester was exceedingly chagrined at thi* 
 result of the difficulty. Of course he dared not 
 defend himself or reply. All the other courtiers 
 enjoyed his confusion very highly, and one of 
 them, in giving an account of the affair, said, 
 in conclusion, that " the queen's words so quell, 
 ed him, that, for some time after, his feigned 
 humility was one of his best virtues." 
 
 Queen Elizabeth very evidently possessed 
 that peculiar combination of quickness of Intel- 
 lect and readiness of tongue which enables 
 those who possess it to say very sharp and bit- 
 ing things, when vexed or out of humor. It is 
 a brilliant talent, though it always makes those 
 who possess it hated and feared. Elizabeth 
 was often wantonly cruel in the exercise of this 
 satirical power, considering very little as if 
 usually the case with such persons the justice 
 of her invectives, but obeying blindly the im- 
 pulses of the ill nature which prompted her t 
 utter them. We have already said that she 
 seemed always to have a special feeling of il]
 
 1560--80.J PERSONAL CHARACTER. 199 
 
 KBsabeth's rlewi of mwrlagB. Her intmltlng eondunt 
 
 will against marriage and every thing that per- 
 tained to it, and she had, particularly, a theory 
 Shat the bishops and the clergy ought not to be 
 married. She could not absolutely prohibit 
 their marrying, but she did issue an injunction 
 forbidding any of the heads of the colleges or 
 cathedrals to take their wives into the same, or 
 any of their precincts. At one time, in one of 
 her royal progresses through the country, she 
 was received, and very magnificently and hos- 
 pitably entertained, by the Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury, at his palace. The archbishop's wife 
 exerted herself very particularly to please the 
 queen and to do her honor. Elizabeth evinced 
 her gratitude by turning to her, as she was 
 about to take her leave, and saying that she 
 could not call her the archbishop's wife, and did 
 not like to call her his mistress, and so she did 
 not know what to call her; but that, at all 
 events, she was very much obliged to her for 
 her hospitality. 
 
 Elizabeth's highest officers of state were con- 
 Anually exposed to her sharp and sudden re* 
 preaches, and they often incurred them by sin- 
 cere and honest efforts to gratify and serve her. 
 She had made an arrangement, one day, to go 
 into the city of London to St Paul's Church, ta
 
 800 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560-80. 
 
 The Dean of Chrtrt Church and the Prayer Book. 
 
 hear the Dean of Christ Churoh, a distinguish- 
 ed clergyman, preach. The dean procured a 
 copy of the Prayer Book, and had it splendidly 
 bound, with a great number of beautiful and 
 costly prints interleaved in it. These prints 
 were all of a religious character, being repre- 
 sentations of sacred history, or of scenes in the 
 lives of the saints. The volume, thus prepared, 
 was very beautiful, and it was placed, when the 
 Sabbath morning arrived, upon the queen's 
 cushion at the church, ready for her use. The 
 queen entered in great state, and took her seat 
 in the midst of all the parade and ceremony 
 customary on such occasions As soon, how- 
 ever, as she opened the book and saw the pic- 
 tures, she frowned, and seemed to be much dis- 
 pleased. She shut the book and put it away, 
 and called for her own ; and, after the service, 
 she sent for the dean, and asked him who brought 
 that book there. He replied, in a very humble 
 and submissive manner, that he had procured 
 it himself, having intended it as a present for 
 hsr majesty. This only produced fresh expres- 
 sions of displeasure. She proceeded to rebuke 
 him severely for countenancing such a popish 
 practice as the introduction of pictures in the 
 ehurohes All this time Elizabeth had herself
 
 1560-80.] PERSONAL CHARACTER. 201 
 
 BttMbetii'i food qMllttM. Her oov*fl 
 
 A crucifix in her own private chapel, and the 
 dean himself, on the other hand, was a firm and 
 consistent Protestant, entirely opposed to the 
 Catholic system of images and pictures, as Eli* 
 abeth very well knew. 
 
 This sort of roughness was a somewhat mas- 
 culine trait of character for a lady, it must be 
 acknowledged, and not a very agreeable one, 
 even in man ; but with some of the bad qual- 
 ities of the other sex, Elizabeth possessed, also, 
 some that were good. She was courageous, and 
 she evinced her courage sometimes in a very 
 noble manner. At one time, when political ex- 
 citement ran very high, her friends thought that 
 there was serious danger in her appearing open- 
 ly in public, and they urged her not to do it, 
 but to confine herself within her palaces for a 
 time, until the excitement should pass away. 
 But no; the representations made to her pro 
 duoed no effect. She said she would continue 
 to go out just as freely as ever. She did not 
 think that there was really any danger; and 
 beside*, if there was, she did not care ; she would 
 rather take her chance of being killed than to 
 be kept shut up like a prisoner. 
 
 At the time, too, when the shot was fired at 
 f he barge in which she was going down the
 
 202 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560-80 
 
 TV> *ot U * brf8. Ellttbeth'i rutty 
 
 Thames, many of her ministers thought it was 
 aimed at her. They endeavored to convince 
 her of this, and urged her not to expose herself 
 to such dangers. She replied that she did not 
 believe that the shot was aimed at her ; and 
 that, in fact, she would not believe any thing of 
 her subjects which a father would not be willing 
 to believe of his own children. So she went on 
 sailing in her barge just as before. 
 
 Elizabeth was very vain of her beauty, 
 though, unfortunately, she had very little beau- 
 ty to be vain of. Nothing pleased her so much 
 as compliments. She sometimes almost exact- 
 ed them. At one time, when a distinguished 
 ambassador from Mary Queen of Scots was at 
 her court, she insisted on his telling her wheth- 
 er she or Mary was the most beautiful. When 
 we consider that Elizabeth was at this time over 
 thirty years of age, and Mary only twenty-two, 
 and that the fame of Mary's loveliness had filled 
 the world, it must be admitted that this ques- 
 tion indicated a considerable degree of self-com- 
 placency. The embassador had the prudence 
 to attempt to evade the inquiry. He said at 
 first that they were both beautiful enough. But 
 Elizabeth wanted to know, she said, which was 
 most beautiful The embassador then said tha*
 
 POBTRAIT OF QtJKEN ELIZABETH.
 
 1560-80.] PERSONAL CHARACTER. 205 
 
 Bttcabetii and the emouMdor. The pictures. 
 
 his queen was the most beautiful queen in Soot- 
 land and Elizabeth in England. Elizabeth was 
 not satisfied with this, but insisted on a definite 
 mnswer to her question; and the embassador 
 aid at last that Elizabeth had the fairest com- 
 plexion, thongh Mary was considered a very 
 lovely woman. Elizabeth then wanted to know 
 which was the tallest of the two. The embas- 
 eador said that Mary was. " Then," said Eliz- 
 abeth, " she is too tall, for I am just of the right 
 height myself." 
 
 At one time during Elizabeth's reign, the 
 people took a fancy to engrave and print por- 
 traits of her, which, being perhaps tolerably 
 faithful to the original, were not very alluring. 
 The queen was much vexed at the circulation 
 of these prints, and finally she caused a grave 
 and formal proclamation to be issued against 
 them. In this proclamation it was stated that 
 !t was the intention of the queen, at some fu- 
 ture time, to have a proper artist employed to 
 execute a correct and true portrait of herself, 
 which should then be published; and, in the 
 mean time, all persons were forbidden tc make 
 or sell any representations of her whatever. 
 
 Elizabeth was extremely fond of pomp and 
 parade. The magnificence and splendor of the
 
 206 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1560-80. 
 
 EHiabeth fondness for pomp and ptraito. 
 
 celebrations and festivities which characterized 
 her reign have scarcely ever been surpassed in 
 any country or in any age. She once went to 
 attend Church, on a particular occasion, ac- 
 companied by a thousand men in full armot 
 of steel, and ten pieces of cannon, with drums 
 and trumpets sounding. She received her for- 
 eign embassadors with military spectacles and 
 shows, and with banquets and parties of pleas- 
 ure, which for many days kept all London in 
 a fever of excitement. Sometimes she made 
 excursions on the river, with whole fleets of 
 boats and barges in her train ; the shores, on 
 such occasions, swarming with spectators, and 
 waving with flags and banners. Sometimes 
 she would make grand progresses through her 
 dominions, followed by an army of attendants 
 lords and ladies dressed and mounted in the 
 most costly manner and putting the noblea 
 whose seats she visited to a vast expense in en- 
 tertaining such a crowd of visitors. Being very 
 saving of her own means, she generally con- 
 trived to bring the expense of this magnificence 
 upon others. The honor was a sufficient equiv- 
 alent Or, if it was not, nobody dared to com- 
 plain. 
 
 To sum up all, Elizabeth was very great,
 
 1560-80.] PERSONAL CHARACTER. 207 
 
 Summary of Elizabeth'* character. 
 
 and she was, at the same time, very little. Lit- 
 tleness and greatness mingled in her character 
 in a manner which has scarcely ever been par- 
 alleled, except by the equally singular mixture 
 of admiration and contempt frith which man- 
 kind have always regarded her
 
 208 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1558 
 
 i betwoM Catholic* and FrotecUnU. PUttp'i cruelly 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA 
 
 nriHHlTY years of Queen Elizabeth's reign 
 -* passed away. During all this time the 
 murderous contests between the Catholic gov- 
 ernments of France and Spain and their Prot- 
 estant subjects went on with terrible energy. 
 Philip of Spain was the great leader and head 
 of the Catholic powers, and he prosecuted his 
 work of exterminating heresy with the stern- 
 est and most merciless determination. Obsti- 
 nate and protracted wars, cruel tortures, and 
 imprisonments and executions without number, 
 marked his reign. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, however, strange 
 as it may seem, the country increased in pop- 
 ulation, wealth, and prosperity. It is, after all, 
 but a very small proportion of fifty millions f 
 people which the most cruel monster of a ty- 
 rant can kill, even if he devotes himself fully to 
 the work. The natural deaths among the vast 
 population within the reach of Philip's power 
 amounted, probably, to two million* every year;
 
 1585.] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 209 
 
 MWti of War. Hapoleoa tad Xnrxe*. 
 
 and if he destroyed ten thousand every year, 
 ft was only adding one death by violence to 
 two hundred produced by accidents, disaster!, 
 or age. Dreadful as are the atrocities of per- 
 secution and war, and vast and incalculable at 
 are the encroachments on human happiness 
 which they produce, we are often led to over- 
 rate their relative importance, compared with 
 the aggregate value of the interests and pur- 
 suits which are left unharmed by them, by not 
 sufficiently appreciating the enormous extent 
 and magnitude of these interests and pursuit* 
 in such communities as England, Franca, and 
 Spain. 
 
 Sometimes, it is true, the operations of mil 
 itary heroes have been on such a prodigious 
 scale as to make very serious inroads on the 
 population of the greatest states. Napoleon 
 for instance, on one occasion took five hundred 
 thousand men out of France for his expedition 
 to Russia. The campaign destroyed nearly all 
 of them. It was only a very insignificant frac- 
 tion of the vast army that ever returned. By 
 this transaction, Napoleon thus just about doub 
 led the annual mortality in France at a single 
 blow. Xerxes enjoys the glory of having de- 
 Hroyd about a million of men and these, not 
 
 2614
 
 210 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [J55 
 
 March of improrement Spanish armada* 
 
 enemies, but countrymen, followers, and friend* 
 in the same way, on a single expedition. 
 Such vast results, however, were not attained 
 in the conflicts which marked the reigns of 
 Elizabeth and Philip of Spain. Notwithstand- 
 ing the long-protracted international wars, and 
 dreadful civil commotions of the period, the 
 world went on increasing in wealth and popu- 
 lation, and all the arts and improvements of 
 life made very rapid progress. America had 
 been discovered, and the way to the East In- 
 dies had been opened to European ships, and 
 the Spaniards, the Portuguese, the Dutch, the 
 English, and the French, had fleets of merchant 
 vessels and ships of war in every sea. The . 
 Spaniards, particularly, had acquired great pos- 
 sessions in America, which contained very rich 
 mines of gold and silver, and there was a par- 
 ticular kind of vessels called galleons, which 
 went regularly once a year, under a strong con- 
 voy, to bring home the treasure. They used ta 
 call these fleets armada, which is the Spanish 
 word denoting an armed squadron. Nation? at 
 war with Spain always made great efforts to 
 intercept and seize these ships on their home- 
 ward voyages, when, being laden with gold and 
 silver, they became prizes of the highest value
 
 1585.] THE IMTINOIBLE ARMADA 211 
 
 tte Low Countries Their situation and eoadtUc* 
 
 Things were in this state about the year 
 1585, when Queen Elizabeth received a propo 
 Jtion from the Continent of Europe which threw 
 her into great perplexity. Among the other 
 dominions of Philip of Spain, there were certain 
 rtates situated in the broad tract of low, level 
 land which lies northeast of France, and which 
 constitutes, at the present day, the countries of 
 Holland and Belgium. This territory was then 
 divided into several provinces, which were call- 
 ed, usually, the Low Countries, on account of 
 the low and level situation of the land. In fact, 
 there are vast tracts of land bordering the shore, 
 which lie so low that dikes have to be built to 
 keep out the sea. In these oases, there are 
 lines of windmills, of great size and power, all 
 along the coast, whose vast wings are always 
 slowly revolving, to pump out the water which 
 percolates through the dikes, or which flows 
 from the water-courses after showers of rain. 
 
 The Low Countries were very unwilling to 
 submit to the tyrannical government which 
 Philip exercised over them. The inhabitants 
 were generally Protestants, and Philip perse- 
 cuted them era ally. They were, in consequence 
 of this, continually rebelling against his author- 
 ity, and Elizabeth, secretly akl>d them in the***
 
 212 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1585 
 
 tftm tW Low CoMlrtM. 
 
 struggles, though she would not openly assist 
 them, as she did not wish to provoke Philip to 
 open war. She wished them success, however 
 for she knew very well that if Philip oould onoe 
 subdue his Protestant subjects at home, ha 
 would immediately turn his attention to En- 
 gland, and perhaps undertake to depose Eliza- 
 beth, and place some Catholic prince or prin- 
 cess upon the throne in her stead. 
 
 Things were in this state in 1585, when the 
 confederate provinces of the Low Countries 
 sent an embassage to Elizabeth, offering her 
 the government of the country as sovereign 
 queen, if she would openly espouse their cause 
 and protect them from Philip's power. This 
 proposition called for very serious and anxious 
 consideration. Elizabeth felt very desirous to 
 make this addition to her dominions on its own 
 account, and besides, she saw at onoe that such 
 an acquisition would give her a great advant- 
 age in her future contests with Philip, if actual 
 war must come. But then, on the otner hand, 
 by accepting the proposition, war must neoessa 
 rily be brought on at onoe. Philip would, in 
 fact, consider her espousing the cause of hi* re- 
 bellious subjects as an actua declaration of wai 
 n her part, so that making such a league with
 
 1585] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 213 
 
 Ellaabeth decision. Leicettcr and Dnh 
 
 these countries would plunge her at once into 
 hostilities with the greatest and most extended 
 i^ower on the globe. Elizabeth was very un- 
 willing thus to precipitate the contest; bit, 
 then, on the other hand, she wished very much 
 to avoid the danger that threatened, of Philip's 
 first subduing his own dominions, and then ad- 
 vancing to the invasion of England with his mi- 
 divided strength. She finally concluded not to 
 accept the sovereignty of the countries, but to 
 make a league, offensive and defensive, with 
 the governments, and to send out a fleet and am 
 army to aid them. This, as she had expected, 
 brought on a general war. 
 
 The queen commissioned Leicester to take 
 command of the forces which were to proceed 
 to Holland and the Netherlands ; she also equip- 
 ped a fleet, and placed it under the command 
 of Sir Francis Drake, a very celebrated naval 
 captain, to proceed across the Atlantic and at- 
 tack the Spanish possessions on the American 
 bores. Leicester was extremely elated with 
 bis appointment, and set off on his expedition 
 with great pomp and parade. He had not gen- 
 erally, during his life, held stations of any great 
 trust or responsibility. The queen had confer- 
 red upon him high titles and vast estates, but
 
 214 Q.UEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 Ixaocrter tete oat for the Low Coantrte*. 
 
 she had confided all real power to far more oa 
 pable and trustworthy hands. She thought 
 however, perhaps, that Leicester would answer 
 for her allies ; so she gave him his commission 
 and sent him forth, charging him, with many 
 injunctions, as he went away, to be discreet 
 and faithful, and to do nothing which should 
 compromise, in any way, her interests or honor. 
 
 It will, perhaps, he recollected that Leicester's 
 wife had been, before her marriage with him, 
 the wife of a nobleman named the Earl of Es- 
 sex. She had a son, who, at his father's death, 
 succeeded to the title. This young Essex ao- 
 oompanied Leicester on this occasion. His sub- 
 sequent adventures, which were romantic and 
 extraordinary, will be narrated in the next 
 chapter. 
 
 The people of the Netherlands, being extreme- 
 ly desirous to please Elizabeth, their new ally, 
 thought that they could not honor the great 
 general she had sent them too highly. The; 
 received him with most magnificent military 
 parades, and passed a vote in their assembly in- 
 vesting him with absolute authority as head of 
 the government, thus putting him, in fact, in 
 the very position which Elizabeth had herself 
 ieoUned receiving. Leicester was extremely
 
 1585.J THE INVICIBLB ARMADA. 215 
 
 LeicaMw'* ektiM. EUaabetfa'i dlipleiurero. 
 
 pleased and elated with these honors. He was 
 king all but in name. He provided himself 
 with a noble life-guard, in imitation of royalty, 
 and assumed all the state and airs of a monarch. 
 Things went on so very prosperously with him 
 for a short time, until he was one day thunder- 
 struck by the appearance at his palace of a no- 
 bleman from the queen's court, named Hene- 
 age, who brought him a letter from Elizabeth 
 which was in substance as follows : 
 
 " How foolishly, and with what contempt of 
 my authority, I think you have acted, the mea 
 aenger I now send to you will explain. I little 
 imagined that a man whom I had raised from 
 the dust, and treated with so much favor, would 
 have forgotten all his obligations, and acted in 
 moh a manner. I command you now to put 
 yourself entirely under the direction of this mes- 
 senger, to do in all things precisely as he re- 
 quires, upon pain of further periL w 
 
 Leicester humbled himself immediately 
 der this rebuke, sent home most ample apolo- 
 gies and prayers for forgiveness, and, after a 
 time, gradually recovered the favor of the queen. 
 He soon, however, became very unpopular in
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH. J1377 
 
 ttnkrt MMM* HU feed* of crafty 
 
 the Netherlands. Grievous complaints were 
 made against him, and he was at length recalled. 
 
 Drake was mora successful. He was a bold, 
 ndaunted, and energetic seaman, but unprin- 
 cipled and merciless. He manned and equipped 
 his fleet, and set sail toward the Spanish pos- 
 sessions in America. He attacked the colonies, 
 acked the towns, plundered the inhabitants, 
 intercepted the ships, and searched them for sil- 
 Yer and gold. In a word, he did exactly what 
 pirates are hung for doing, and execrated aft- 
 erward by all mankind. But, as Queen Eliz- 
 abeth gave him permission to perform these ex- 
 ploits, he has always been applauded by man- 
 kind as a hero. We would not be understood 
 as denying that there is any difference between 
 burning and plundering innocent towns and 
 robbing ships, whether there is or is not a gov- 
 ernmental permission to commit these crimes. 
 There certainly is a difference. It only seem* 
 to us surprising that there should be so great a 
 difference as is made by the general estimation 
 of mankind. 
 
 Drake, in fact, had acquired a great and hon- 
 orable celebrity for such deeds before this time, 
 by a similar expedition, several years before, in 
 which he had been driven to make the oiroum-
 
 1578. j THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 
 
 Drake's expedition tai 1577. Execution of D<whty 
 
 navigation of the globe. England and Spain 
 were then nominally at peace, and the expedi- 
 tion was really in pursuit of prizes and plunder. 
 Drake took five vessels with him on this hia 
 first expedition, but they were all very small. 
 The largest was only a vessel of one hundred 
 tons, while the ships which are now built are 
 often of three thousand. With this little fleet 
 Drake set sail boldly, and crossed the Atlantic, 
 being fifty-five days out of sight of land. He 
 arrived at last on the coast of South America, 
 and then turned his course southward, toward 
 the Straits of Magellan. Two of his vessels, 
 he found, were so small as to be of very little 
 service ; so he shipped the men on board the 
 others, and turned the two adrift. When he 
 got well into the southern seas, he charged hia 
 chief mate, whose name was Doughty, with 
 some offense against the discipline of his little 
 fleet, and had him condemned to death. He 
 was executed at the Straits of Magellan be- 
 headed. Before he died, the unhappy convict 
 had the sacrament administered to him, Drake 
 himself partaking of it with him. It was said, 
 and believed at the time, that the charge against 
 Doughty was only a pretense, and that the 
 real cause of his death was, that Leicester had
 
 t!8 QJEEN ELIZABETH. [1579. 
 
 Btnltt of MafelUn. Drake plmndan the SpanUrd* 
 
 Agreed with Drake to kill him when far away, 
 on account of his having assisted, with others, 
 in spreading the reports that Leicester had mur- 
 dered the Earl of Essex, the former husband 
 of his wife. 
 
 The little squadron passed through the Straits 
 of Magellan, and then encountered a dreadful 
 storm, which separated the ships, and drove 
 them several hundred miles to the westward, 
 over the then boundless and trackless waters 
 of the Pacific Ocean. Drake himself afterward 
 recovered the shore with his own ship alone, 
 and moved northward. He found Spanish ships 
 and Spanish merchants every where, who, not 
 dreaming of the presence of an English enemy 
 in those distant seas, were entirely secure ; and 
 they fell, one after another, a very easy prey. 
 The very extraordinary story is told of his find- 
 ing, in one place, a Spaniard asleep upon the 
 shore, waiting, perhaps, for a boat, with thirty 
 bars of silver by his side, of great weight and 
 value, which Drake and his men seized and car- 
 ried off, without so much as waking the owner. 
 In one harbor which he entered he found throe 
 hips, from which the seamen had all gone 
 ashore, leaving the vessels completely unguard- 
 ed, so entirely unconscious were they of any
 
 1579.] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 219 
 
 ChMe of the Cacofogo. Drake capture* her. 
 
 danger near. Drake broke into the cabins of 
 these ships, and found fifty or sixty wedges of 
 pure silver there, of twenty ponnds eaoh. In 
 this way, as he passed along the coast, he col- 
 lected an immense treasure in silver and gold, 
 both coin and bullion, without having to strike 
 * blow for it. At last he heard of a very rich 
 ship, called the Cacofogo, which had recently 
 sailed for Panama, to which place they were 
 taking the treasure, in order that it might be 
 transported across the isthmus, and so taken 
 home to Spain; for, before Drake's voyage, 
 scarcely a single vessel had ever passed round 
 Cape Horn. The ships which he had plun- 
 dered had been all built upon the coast, by 
 Spaniards who had come across the country at 
 the Isthmus of Darien, and were to be used 
 only to transport the treasure northward, where 
 it could be taken across to the Gulf of Mexico 
 Drake gave chase to the Caoofogo. At last 
 he came near enough to fire into her, and one 
 t/ his first shots out away her foremast and dis- 
 abled her. He soon captured the ship, and he 
 found immense riches on board. Besides pearls 
 and precious stones of great value, there were 
 eighty pounds of goM, thirteen chests of silver 
 coin, and silver enough in bars "to ballast a 
 bin"
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH [15S1 
 
 Drake'i acape by going round the world. 
 
 Drake's vessel was now riohly laden with 
 treasures, bat in the mean time the news of his 
 plunder ings had gone across the Continent, an* 
 iome Spanish ships of war had gone south to 
 intercept him at the Straits of Magellan on his 
 return. In this dilemma, the adventurous sail- 
 or conceived of the sublime idea of avoiding 
 them by going round the world to get horn* . 
 He pushed boldly forward, therefore, across the 
 Pacific Ocean to the East Indies, thence through 
 the Indian Ocean to the Cape of Good Hope, 
 and, alter three years from the time he left En- 
 gland, he returned to it safely again, his ship 
 loaded with the plundered silver and gold. 
 
 As soon as he arrived in the Thames, the 
 whole world flocked to see the little ship that 
 had performed all these wonders. The vessel 
 was drawn up alongside the land, and a bridge 
 made to it, and, after the treasure was taken 
 out, it was given up, for some time, to banquet- 
 ings and celebrations of every kind. The queen 
 took possession of all the treasure, saying that 
 Philip might demand it, and she be forced tc 
 make restitution, for it must be remembered 
 that all this took place several years before the 
 war. She, however, treated the successful sail- 
 or with every mark of consideration and honor ;
 
 1587.] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 221 
 
 Cfcmctar of Drake. Phfflp donukU th* tMMiw 
 
 he went herself on board his ship, and partook 
 of an entertainment there, conferring the honor 
 of knighthood, at the same time, on the admi- 
 ral, so that " Sir Francis Drake" was thence- 
 forth hi* proper title. 
 
 If the facts already stated do not give suffi- 
 cient indications of the kind of character which 
 in those days made a naval hero, one other cir- 
 cumstance may be added. At one time during 
 this voyage, a Spaniard, whose ship Drake had 
 spared, made him a present of a beautiful ne- 
 gro girl. Drake kept her on board his ship foi 
 a time, and then sent her ashore on some island 
 that he was passing, and inhumanly abandoned 
 her there, to become a mother among strangers, 
 utterly friendless and alone. It must be added, 
 however, in justice to the rude men among 
 whom this wild buccaneer lived, that, though 
 they praised all his other deeds of violence and 
 wrong, this atrocious cruelty was condemned, 
 tt had the effect, even in those days, of tarnish- 
 ing his fame. 
 
 Philip did claim the money, but Elizabeth 
 found plenty of good excuses for not paying it 
 ver to him. 
 
 This celebrated expedition occupied more 
 than three years. Going round the world is *
 
 222 <4uEEN ELIZABETH 1587 
 
 Alarming new*. EHabeth' nary 
 
 long journey. The arrival of the ship in Lon- 
 don took place in 1581, four years before tha 
 war actually broke out between England and 
 Spain, which was in 1585 ; and it was in con- 
 sequence of the great celebrity which Drake had 
 acquired in this and similar excursions, that 
 when at last hostilities commenced, he was put 
 in command of the naval preparations. It was 
 not long before it was found that his services 
 were likely to be required near home, for ru- 
 mors began to find their way to England that 
 Philip was preparing a great fleet for the actual 
 invasion of England. The news put the whole 
 country into a state of great alarm. 
 
 The reader, in order to understand fully the 
 grounds for this alarm, must remember that in 
 those days Spain was the mistress of the ocean, 
 and not England herself. Spain possessed the 
 distant colonies and the foreign commerce, and 
 built and armed the great ships, while England 
 had comparatively few ships, and those which 
 he had were small. To meet the formidable 
 preparations which the Spaniards were making, 
 Elizabeth equipped only four ships. To these,, 
 however, the merchants of London added twen 
 ty or thirty more, of various sizes, which they 
 famished on condition of having a share in tb
 
 1587.] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 
 
 Drake's expedition again* the Spaniards Hi* bold 
 
 plunder which they hoped would be secured. 
 The whole fleet was put under Drake's com- 
 mand. 
 
 Robbers and murderers, whether those that 
 operate upon the sea or on the land, are gener- 
 ally courageous, and Drake's former success 
 had made him feel doubly confident and strong. 
 Philip had collected a considerable fleet of ships 
 in Cadiz, which is a strong sea-port in the south- 
 eastern part of Spain, on the Mediterranean Sea, 
 and others were assembling in all the ports and 
 bays along the shore, wherever they could be 
 built or purchased. They were to rendezvous 
 finally at Cadiz. Drake pushed boldly forward, 
 and, to the astonishment of the world, forced his 
 way into the harbor, through a squadron of gal- 
 leys stationed there to protect the entrance, and 
 burned, sunk, and destroyed more than a hun- 
 dred ships which had been collected there. The 
 whole work was done, and the little English 
 fleet was off again, before the Spaniards could 
 recover from their astonishment. Drake then 
 galled along the coast, seizing and destroying all 
 the ships he could find. He next pushed to sea 
 a little way, and had the good fortune to inter- 
 cept and capture a richly-laden ship of very 
 large size, called a carrack, which was coming
 
 824 QUEEN ELIZABETH. |158 
 
 fpermtlon of Phfllp. HU preparation* 
 
 home from the East Indies. He then went back 
 to England in triumph. He said he had been 
 " singeing the whiskers" of the King of Spain. 
 ' The booty was divided among the London 
 merchants, as had been agreed upon. Philip 
 was exasperated and enraged beyond expression 
 at this unexpected destruction of armaments 
 which had cost him so much time and money 
 to prepare. His spirit was irritated and aroused 
 by the disaster, not quelled ; and he immediate- 
 ly began to renew his preparations, making them 
 now on a still vaster scale than before. The 
 amount of damage which Drake effected was, 
 therefore, alter all, of no greater benefit to En- 
 gland than putting back the invasion for about 
 a year. 
 
 At length, in the summer of 1588, the prep- 
 arations for the sailing of the great armada, 
 which was to dethrone Elizabeth and bring back 
 the English nation again under the dominion of 
 some papal prince, and put down, finaJly, the 
 oause of Protestantism in Europe, were com 
 plete. Elizabeth herself, and the English peo- 
 ple, in the mean time, had not been idle. The 
 whole kingdom had been for months filled with 
 enthusiasm to prepare for meeting the foe. Ar- 
 mies were levied and fleets raised. Every mari
 
 1588.] THB INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 225 
 
 Slixabeth's preparations. The rmy and UBTJ 
 
 time town furnished ships ; and rich noblemen, 
 in many cases, built or pnrohased vessels with 
 their own funds, and sent them forward ready 
 for the battle, as their contribution toward the 
 means of defense. A large part of the force thus 
 raised was stationed at Plymouth, which is the 
 first great sea-port which presents itself on the 
 English coast in sailing up the Channel. The 
 remainder of it was stationed at the other end of 
 the Channel, near the Straits of Dover, for it was 
 feared that, in addition to the vast armament 
 which Philip was to bring from Spain, he would 
 raise another fleet in the Netherlands, which 
 would, of course, approach the shores of England 
 from the German Ocean. 
 
 Besides the fleets, a large army was raised. 
 Twenty thousand men were distributed along 
 the southern shores of England in such posi- 
 tions as to be most easily concentrated at any 
 f oint where the armada might attempt to land 
 and about as many more were marched down 
 the Thames, and encamped near the mouth of 
 the river, to guard that access. This encamp- 
 ment was at a place on the northern bank of 
 the river, just above its mouth. Leicester, 
 strange as it may seem, was put in command of 
 this army. The queen, however, herself, went 
 3615
 
 226 QUBEK ELIZABETH. 
 
 Elizabeth review* the troop*. 
 
 to visit this encampment, and reviewed the 
 troops in person. She rode to and fro on horse- 
 back along the lines, armed like a warrior. At 
 least she had a corslet of polished steel over her 
 magnificent dress, and bore a general's trun* 
 cheon, a richly-ornamented staff used as a badge 
 of command. She had a helmet, too, with a 
 white plume. This, howev- she did not wear 
 A page bore it, following her, while she rode, at- 
 tended by Leicester and the other generals, all 
 mounted on horses and splendidly caparisoned, 
 from rank to rank, animating the men to the 
 highest enthusiasm by her courageous bearing, 
 her look of confidence, and her smiles. 
 
 She made an address to the soldiers. She 
 said that she had been warned by some of her 
 ministers of the danger of trusting herself to 
 the power of such an armed multitude, for these 
 forces were not regularly enlisted troops, but 
 volunteers from among the citizens, who had 
 suddenly left the ordinary avocations and pur- 
 suits of life to defend their country in this emer- 
 gency. She had, however, she said, no such 
 apprehensions of danger. She could trust her- 
 self without fear to the courage and fidelity of 
 her subjects, as she had always, during all her 
 -eign, considered her greatest strength and safe-
 
 1588.] THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 
 
 dxabeth i energy. Approach of tne armada, 
 
 guard as consisting in their loyalty and good 
 wilL For herself, she had come to the camp, 
 ihe assured them, not for the sake of empty 
 pageantry and parade, but to take her share 
 with them in the dangers, and toils, and terrors 
 of the actual battle. If Philip should land, they 
 would find their queen in the hottest of the con- 
 flict, fighting by their sides. " I have," said she, 
 " I know, only the body of a weak and feeble 
 woman, but I have the heart of a king ; and I 
 am ready for my God, my kingdom, and my 
 people, to have that body laid down, even in the 
 dust. If the battle comes, therefore, 1 shall 
 myself be in the midst and front of it, to lire 
 or die with you." 
 
 These were, thus far, but words, it is true, 
 and how far Elizabeth would have vindicated 
 their sincerity, if the entrance of the armada 
 into the Thames had put her to the test, we 
 can not now know. Sir Francis Drake saved 
 her from the trial. One morning a small ves 
 el came into the harbor at Plymouth, where 
 the English fleet was lying, with the news that 
 the armada was coming up the Channel under 
 full sail. The anchors of the fleet were imme- 
 diately raised, and great exertions made to get 
 it out of the harbor, which was difficult, at th
 
 228 QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 4 (rand ipecUcle. A iiagnlar flght 
 
 wind at the time was blowing directly in. Th 
 squadron got out at last, as night was coming 
 on. The next morning the armada hove in 
 sight, advancing from the westward up the 
 Channel, in a vast crescent, which extended for 
 seven miles from north to south, and seemed to 
 sweep the whole sea. 
 
 It was a magnificent spectacle, and it was 
 the ushering in of that far grander spectacle 
 still, of which the English Channel was the 
 scene for the ten days which followed, during 
 which the enormous naval structures of the ar- 
 mada, as they slowly made their way along, 
 were followed, and fired upon, and harassed by 
 the smaller, and lighter, and more active ves- 
 sels of their English foes. The unwieldy mon- 
 sters pressed on, surrounded and worried by their 
 nimbler enemies like hawks driven by kingfish- 
 ers through the sky. Day after day this most 
 >xtraordinary contest, half flight and half bat- 
 tlej continued, every promontory on the shores 
 covered all the time with spectators, who list- 
 tned to the distant booming of the guns, and 
 watched the smokes which arose from the can- 
 nonading and the conflagrations. One great 
 galleon after another fell a prey. Some were 
 burned, some taken as prizes, borne driven
 
 1558.J THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 231 
 
 Defeat of the armada. A remnant eteapei 
 
 ashore; and finally, one dark night, the En* 
 glish sent a fleet of fire-ships, ail in flames, into 
 the midst of the anchorage to which the Span* 
 lards had retired, which scattered them in ter- 
 ror and dismay, and completed the discomfiture 
 of the squadron. 
 
 The result was, that by the time the invin- 
 cible armada had made its way through the 
 Channel, and had passed the Straits of Dover, 
 it was so dispersed, and shattered, and broken, 
 that its commanders, far from feeling any dis- 
 position to sail up the Thames, were only anx- 
 ious to make good their escape from their inde- 
 fatigable and tormenting foes. They did not 
 dare, in attempting to make this escape, to re- 
 turn through the Channel, so they pushed north- 
 ward into the German Ocean. Their only course 
 for getting back to Spain again was to pass 
 found the northern side of England, among the 
 oold and stormy seas that are rolling in contin- 
 ually among the ragged rooks and gloomy inl- 
 ands which darken the ocean there. At last a 
 miserable remnant of the fleet less than half- 
 made their way back to Spain again.
 
 232 Q.UEEN ELIZABETH. [1588 
 
 Character of EMOX. D<Mth of Leioenet 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 THE EARL OF ESSEX. 
 
 FI1HE lady whom the Earl of Leicester mar- 
 *- ried was, a short time before he married 
 her, the wife of the Earl of Essex, and she had 
 one son, who, on the death of his father, became 
 the Earl of Essex in his turn. He came ti 
 court, and continued in Leicester's family aftei 
 his mother's second marriage. He was an ac- 
 complished and elegant young man, and waa 
 regarded with a good deal of favor by the queen. 
 He was introduced at court when he waa but 
 seventeen years old, and, being the step-son of 
 Leicester, he necessarily occupied a conspicu- 
 ous position ; his personal qualities, joined with 
 this, soon gave him a very high and honorable 
 name. 
 
 About a month after the victory obtained bj 
 the English over the invincible armada, Leioea 
 ter was seized with a fever on a journey, aijd, 
 after lingering for a few days, died, leaving Es- 
 sex, as it were, in his place. Elizabeth seems 
 not to have been very inconsolable for her fa
 
 1588,] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 233 
 
 E*MX become* the queen's farorita. Cecu and EMMC 
 
 vorite's death. She directed, or allowed, his 
 properly to be sold at auction, to pay some 
 debts which he owed her or, as the historians 
 rf the day express it, which he owed the crown 
 and then seemed at once to transfer her fond- 
 ness and affection to the young Essex, who was 
 at that time twenty-one years of age. Eliza- 
 beth herself was now nearly sixty. Cecil /-was 
 growing old also, and was somewhat infirm, 
 though he had a son who was rapidly coming 
 forward in rank and influence at court. This 
 son's name was Robert. The young Earl of 
 Essex's name was Robert too. The elder Ce- 
 cil and Leicester had been, all their lives, 
 watchful and jealous of each other, and in some 
 sense rivals. Robert Cecil and Robert Deve- 
 reux for that was, in full, the Earl of Essex'i 
 family name being young and ardent, inherit- 
 ed the animosity of their parents, and were leas 
 cautious and wary in expressing it. They soon 
 became open foes. 
 
 Robert Devereux, or Essex, as he is common- 
 y called in history, was handsome and accom- 
 plished, ardent, impulsive, and generous. The 
 war with Spain, notwithstanding the destruc- 
 tion of the armada, continued, and Essex en 
 tared into it with all zeal. The queen, who
 
 234 QUEEN ELIIABETH. [15 
 
 Hi* abeth'i regard for Euex. HU impnttre brarery 
 
 with all her ambition, and her proud and dom- 
 ineering spirit, felt, liie any other woman, the 
 necessity of having something to love, soon be- 
 gan to take a strong interest in his person and 
 fortunes, and seemed to love him as a mother 
 loves a son ; and he, in his turn, soon learned 
 to act toward her as a son, full of youthful 
 courage and ardor, often acts toward a mother 
 over whose heart he feels that he has a strong 
 control. He would go away, without leave, to 
 mix in affrays with the Spanish ships in the 
 English Channel and in the Bay of Biscay, and 
 then come back and make his peace with the 
 queen by very humble petitions for pardon, and 
 promises of future obedience. When he went, 
 with her leave, on these expeditions, she would 
 harge his superior officers to keep him out of 
 danger ; while he, with an impetuosity which 
 strongly marked his character, would evade and 
 escape from all these injunctions, and press for- 
 ward into every possible exposure, always eager 
 to have battle given, and to get, himself, into 
 the hottest part of it, when it was begun. At 
 one time, off Cadiz, the officers of the English 
 ships hesitated some time whether to venture 
 an attack upon some ships in the harbor Es- 
 ex burning with in patience all the time and
 
 1598.] THK EARL OP KSSBX. 23fi 
 
 Buex'i ardor for Uttle. Bto dML 
 
 when it was at length decided to make the at- 
 tack, he was so excited with enthusiasm and 
 pleasure that he threw his cap up into the air, 
 and overboard, perfectly wild with delight, like 
 ft school-boy in anticipation of a holiday. 
 
 Ten years passed away, and Essex rose high* 
 er and higher in estimation and honor. He was 
 sometimes in the queen's palaces at home, and 
 ometimes away on the Spanish seas, where he 
 Required great fame. He was proud and im- 
 perious at court, relying on his influence with 
 the queen, who treated him as a fond mother 
 treats a spoiled child. She was often vexed 
 with his conduct, but she could not help loving 
 him. One day, as he was coming into the 
 aueen's presence chamber, he saw one of the 
 courtiers there who had a golden ornament upon 
 his arm which the queen had given him tho 
 day before. He asked what it was ; they told 
 him it was a " favor" from the queen. " Ah," 
 aid he, " I see how it is going to be ; every fool 
 must have his favor." The courtier resented 
 this mode of speaking of his distinction, and 
 challenged Essex to a duel. The combatant* 
 met in the Park, and Essex was disarmed and 
 wounded. The queen heard of the affair, and, 
 inquiring very curiously about all the par
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1598 
 
 remark upon the duel. She giree Fi a ring 
 
 tioulars, she said that she was glad of it ; for, 
 unless there was somebody to take dowz. hi* 
 pride, there would be no such thing as doing 
 any thing with him. 
 
 Elizabeth's feelings toward Essex fluctuated 
 in strange alternations of fondness and displeas- 
 ure. At one time, when affection was in the 
 ascendency, she gave him a ring, as a talisman 
 of her protection. She promised him that if he 
 ever should become involved in troubles or diffi- 
 culties of any kind, and especially if he should 
 lose her favor, either by his own misconduct or 
 by the false accusations of his enemies, if he 
 would send her that ring, it should serve to re- 
 call her former kind regard, and incline her to 
 pardon and save him. Essex took the ring, and 
 preserved it with the utmost care. 
 
 Friendship between persons of such impetu- 
 ous and excitable temperaments as Elizabeth 
 and Essex both possessed, though usually very 
 ardent for a time, is very precarious and uncer 
 tain in duration. After various petulant ami 
 brief disputes, which were easily reconcile* i, 
 there came at length a serious quarrel. There 
 was, at that time, great difficulty in Ireland', 
 a rebellion had broken out, in fact, which was 
 fomanted and encouraged by Spanish influence.
 
 1598.J THE EARL OF ESSEX. 237 
 
 n* qnamL The box on th* tarn, 
 
 Essex was one day urging very strongly the ap- 
 pointment of one of his friends to take the com* 
 mand there, while the queen was disposed to 
 appoint another person. Essex urged his views 
 and wishes with much importunity, and when 
 he found that the queen was determined not to 
 yield, he turned his back upon her in a con- 
 temptuous and angry manner. The queen lost 
 patience in her turn, and, advancing rapidly to 
 him, her eyes sparkling with extreme resent- 
 ment and displeasure, she gave him a severe 
 box on the ear, telling him, at the same time, to 
 " go and be hanged." Essex was exceedingly 
 enraged ; he clasped the handle of his sword, 
 but was immediately seized by the other court- 
 iers present. They, however, soon released 
 their hold upon him, and he walked off out of 
 the apartment, saying that he could not and 
 would not bear such an insult as that. He 
 would not have endured it, he said, from King 
 Henry the Eighth himself. The name of King 
 Henry the Eighth, in those days, was the sym- 
 bol and personification of the highest possible 
 human grandeur. 
 
 The friends of Essex among the courtiers ec- 
 deavored to soothe and calm him, and to per- 
 uade him to apologize to the queen, and seek
 
 238 QUKBN ELIZABETH. f !598 
 
 Be nd EHubetfa raoondM 
 
 a reconciliation. They told him that, whether 
 right or wrong, he ought to yield ; for in contests 
 with the law or with a prince, a man, they 
 aid, ought, if wrong, to submit himself to jus- 
 tice ; if right, to necessity; in either case, it 
 was his duty to submit 
 
 This was very good philosophy; but Essex 
 was not in a state of mind to listen to philoso- 
 phy. He wrote a reply to the friend who had 
 counseled him as above, that " the queen had 
 the temper of a flint ; that she had treated him 
 with suoh extreme injustice and cruelty so 
 many times that his patience was exhausted, 
 and he would bear it no longer. He knew well 
 enough what duties he owed the queen as an 
 earl and grand marshal of England, but he did 
 not understand being cuffed and beaten like a 
 menial servant; and that his body suffered in 
 every part from the blow he had received." 
 
 His resentment, however, got soothed and 
 softened in time, and he was again admitted to 
 favor, though the consequences of suoh quar- 
 rels are seldom folly repaired. The reconcil- 
 iation was, nowever, in this case, apparently 
 complete, and in the following year Essex was 
 himself appointed the Governor, or, as styled iv 
 those days, the Lord Deputy of Ireland
 
 1599.] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 23f 
 
 CMex-aent to Ireland. Curious negotiation! 
 
 He went to his province, and took command 
 of the forces which had been collected there, 
 iKtl engaged zealously in the work of suppress- 
 ing the rebellion. For some reason or other, 
 however, he made very little progress. The 
 name of the leader of the rebels was the Earl 
 of Tyrone.* Tyrone wanted a parley, but did 
 not dare to trust himself in Essex's power. 
 It was at last, however, agreed that the two 
 leaders should come down to a river, one of 
 them upon each side, and talk across it, nei- 
 ther general to have any troops or attendants 
 with him. This plan was carried into effect. 
 Essex, stationing a troop near him, on a hill, 
 rode down to the water on one side, while Ty- 
 rone came into the river as far as his horse could 
 wade on the other, and then the two earls at- 
 tempted to negotiate terms of peace by shout- 
 ing across the current of the stream. 
 
 Nothing effectual was accomplished by this 
 tni some other similar parleys, and in the mean 
 time the weeks were passing away, and little 
 was done toward suppressing the rebellion. 
 Ths queen was dissatisfied. She sent Essex 
 letters of complaint and censure. These letters 
 awakened the lord deputy's resentment The 
 
 Spelled in the old histories Tir-Oen
 
 240 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1599 
 
 The qneen'i dfepleMV*. EMBX'C sudden rotem 
 
 breach was thus rapidly widening, when Essex 
 til at onoe conceived the idea of going himself 
 io England, without permission, and without 
 giving any notice of his intention, to endeavor, 
 by a personal interview, to reinstate himself in 
 the favor of the queen. 
 
 This was a very bold step. It was entirely 
 contrary to military etiquette for an officer to 
 leave his command and go home to his sover- 
 eign without orders and without permission. 
 The plan, however, might have succeeded. Lei- 
 cester did onoe succeed in such a measure ; but 
 in this case, unfortunately, it failed. Essex trav- 
 eled with the utmost dispatch, crossed the Chan- 
 nel, made the best of his way to the palace 
 where the queen was then residing, and pressed 
 through the opposition of all the attendants into 
 the queen's private apartment, in his traveling 
 dress, soiled and way-worn. The ^ueeii was 
 at her toilet, with her hair down over her eyes. 
 Essex fell on his knees before her, kissed her 
 hand, and made great professions of gratitude 
 and love, and of an extreme desire to deserve 
 and enjoy her favor. The queen was astonished 
 at his appearance, but Essex thought that she 
 received him kindly. He went away after a 
 abort interview, greatly pleased with the prr
 
 1599] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 243 
 
 BIIMC U arrested. HMentment and lor* 
 
 peot of a favorable issue to the desperate step 
 he had taken. His joy, however, was soon dis- 
 pelled. In the course of the day he was arrest* 
 ed by order of the queen, and sent to his honM 
 under the custody of an officer. He had pre- 
 sumed too far. 
 
 Essex was kept thus secluded and confined 
 \n some time. His house was on the bank cf 
 the river. None of his friends, not even his 
 countess, were allowed access to him. His im- 
 petuous spirit wore itself out in chafing against 
 the restraints and means of coercion which 
 were pressing upon him ; but he would not sub- 
 mit. The mind of the queen, too, was deeply 
 agitated all the time by that most tempestuous 
 of all mental conflicts, a struggle between re- 
 sentment and love. Her affection for her proud- 
 spirited favorite seemed as strong as ever, but 
 she was determined to make him yield in the 
 contest she had commenced with him. How 
 often oases precisely similar occur in less con- 
 spicuous scenes of action, where they who -ove 
 each other with a sincere and uncontrollable af- 
 fection take their stand in attitudes of hostili- 
 ty, each determined that the obstinacy of the 
 ther shall give way, and each heart persisting 
 in its own determination, resentment and lovo
 
 244 QUKKN EL ZABBTH. [1599 
 
 EMOX'I * and kagrt* Ha U tote rifc 
 
 struggling all the time in a dreadful contest, 
 which keeps the soul in a perpetual commotion, 
 and allows of no peace till either the obstinacy 
 yields or the love is extinguished and gone. 
 
 It was indirectly made known to Essex that 
 if he would confess his fault, ask the queen's 
 forgiveness, and petition for a release from con- 
 finement, in order that he might return to his 
 duties in Ireland, the difficulty could be settled. 
 But no, he would make no concessions. The 
 queen, in retaliation, increased the pressure 
 upon him. The more strongly he felt the press- 
 ure, the more his proud and resentful spirit was 
 aroused. He walked his room, his soul boiling 
 with anger and chagrin, while the queen, equal- 
 ly distressed and harassed by the conflict in 
 her own soul, still persevered, hoping every day 
 that the unbending spirit with which she was 
 contending would yield at last. 
 
 At length the tidings came to her that Essex, 
 worn out with agitation and suffering, was se- 
 riously sick. The historians doubt whether hit 
 sickness was real or feigned ; but there is not 
 much difficulty in understanding, from the dr- 
 onmstanoes of the case, what its real nature 
 was. Such mental conflicts as those which he 
 ailured suspend the powers of digestion aud
 
 1599.] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 244 
 
 f ton* of EMBX'S ickne. The queen' caxbfty 
 
 toeelerate the pulsations of the heart, which 
 beats in the bosom with a preternatural fre- 
 quency and foroe, like a bird fluttering to got 
 free from a snare. The result is a sort of fe- 
 rer burning slowly in the veins, and an ema- 
 ciation which wastes the strength away, and, 
 in impetuous and uncontrollable spirits, like 
 that of Essex, sometimes exhausts the powers 
 of life altogether. The sickness, therefore, 
 though of mental origin, becomes , bodily and 
 real; but then the sufferer is often ready, in 
 luoh oases, to add a little to it by feigning. 
 An instinct teaches him that nothing is so like- 
 "/ to move the heart whose cruelty causes him 
 to suffer, as a knowledge of the extreme to 
 which it has reduced him. Essex was doubt- 
 less willing that Elizabeth should know that 
 he was sick. Her knowing it had, in some 
 measure, the usual effect. It reawakened and 
 strengthened the love she had felt for him, bat 
 did not give it absolutely the victory. She sent 
 eight physicians to him, to examine and con- 
 sult upon his case. She caused some broth to 
 be made for him, and gave it to one of these 
 physicians to carry to him, directing the mes- 
 senger, in a faltering voice, to say to Essex 
 that if it were proper to do so she would hav*
 
 246 QUEBN ELIZABETH. [1599 
 
 The queen'* Undaew to KMBT. They are reconciled afate 
 
 oome to see him herself. She then turned away 
 to hide her tears. Strange inconsistency of the 
 human heart resentment and anger holding 
 their ground in the son! against the object of 
 noh deep and unconquerable love. It would 
 be incredible, were it not that probably every 
 single one of all the thousands who may read 
 this story has experienced the same. 
 
 Nothing has so great an effect in awakening 
 in the heart a strong sentiment of kindness as 
 the performance of a kind act. Feeling origi- . 
 nates and controls action, it is true, bnt then, 
 on the other hand, action has a prodigious pow- 
 er in modifying feeling. Elizabeth's acts of 
 kindness to Essex in his sickness produced a 
 renewal of her tenderness for him so strong 
 that her obstinacy and anger gave way before 
 it, and she soon began to desire some mode of 
 releasing him from his confinement, and restor- 
 ing him to favor. Essex was softened too. In 
 a word, there was finally a reconciliation, the ngk 
 it was accomplished by slow degrees, and by 
 means of a sort of series of capitulations. There 
 was an investigation of his case before the privy 
 council, which resulted in a condemnation o* 
 his conduct, and a recommendation to the mer- 
 cy of the queen ; and then followed some com-
 
 1599.) THE EARL OF ESPBX. 247 
 
 IMBI'I promUe*. The quen' ungmerev ooodM* 
 
 mtmications between Essex and his sovereign, 
 in which he expressed sorrow for his faults, and 
 made <atisfaotory promises for the future. 
 
 The queen, however, had not magnanimity 
 enough to let the quarrel end without taunting 
 and irritating the penitent with expressions of 
 triumph. In reply to his acknowledgments and 
 professions, she told him that she was glad to 
 hear of his good intentions, and she hoped that 
 he would show, by his future conduct, that he 
 meant to fulfill them; that he had tried her 
 patience for a long time, but she hoped that 
 henceforth she should have no further trouble. 
 If it had been her father, she added, instead of 
 herself, that he had had to deal with, he would 
 not have been pardoned at all. It could not be 
 a very cordial reconciliation which was consum- 
 mated by such words as these. But it was very 
 like Elizabeth to utter them. They who aw 
 governed by their temper are governed by it 
 even in their love. 
 
 Essex was not restored to- office. In fact,, he 
 did not wish to be restored. He said that he 
 wa resolved henceforth to lead a private life. 
 But even in respect to this plan he was at the 
 mercy of the queen, for his private income was 
 in a great measure derived from a monopoly, aa
 
 248 Q.UEEN ELIZABETH. [1599 
 
 EMU*! monopoly of wine*. The queen refuse to renew It 
 
 It is called, in a certain kind of wines, which 
 had been granted to him some tune before. It 
 was a very customary mode, in those days, of 
 enriching favorites, to grant them monopolies 
 of certain kinds of merchandise, that is, the ex- 
 olnsive right to sell them. The persons to whom 
 this privilege was granted wonld underlet their 
 right to merchants in various parts of the king- 
 dom, on condition of receiving a certain share 
 of the profits. Essex had thus derived a great 
 revenue from his monopoly of wines. The grant, 
 however, was expiring, and he 1 ,otn,ioned the 
 qneen that it might be renewed. 
 
 The interest which Essex felt in the renewal 
 of this grant was one of the strongest induce- 
 ments to lead him to submit to the humilia- 
 tions which he had endured, and to make con- 
 cessions to the queen. But he was disappoint- 
 ed in his hopes. The queen, elated a little with 
 the triumph already attained, and, perhaps, de- 
 sirous of the pleasure of humbling Essex still 
 nore, refused at present to renew his monopo- 
 y, saying that she thought it would do him 
 good to be restricted a little, for a time, in his 
 means. " Unmanageable beasts," she said, " had 
 ^ be tamed by being stinted in their provender." 
 Essex was sharply stung by such a refusal
 
 1600.] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 249 
 
 EMez mada desperate. Hi* treasonable Mbame* 
 
 accompanied, too, by such an insult. He was 
 full of indignation and anger. At first he gave 
 free expression to his feelings of vexation in 
 conversation with those around him. The 
 queen, he said, had got to be a perverse and ob- 
 stinate old woman, as orooked in mind as sht 
 was in body. He had plenty of enemies to lis- 
 ten to these speeches, and to report them in such 
 a way as that they should reach the queen. A 
 new breach was consequently opened, which 
 seemed now wider than ever, and irreparable. 
 
 At least it seemed so to Essex ; and, aban- 
 doning all plans for again enjoying the favor of 
 Elizabeth, he began to consider what he could 
 do to undermine her power and rise upon the 
 ruins of it. The idea was insanity, but passion 
 always makes men insane. James, king of 
 Scotland, the son and successor of Mary, was 
 the rightful heir to the English throne after 
 Elizabeth's death. In order to make his right 
 of succession more secure, he had wished to 
 have Elizabeth acknowledge it ; but she, always 
 dreading terribly the thoughts of death, could 
 never bear to think of a successor, and seemed 
 to hate every one who entertained any expec- 
 tation of following her. Essex suppressed aU 
 jutward expressions of violence and anger ; be*
 
 250 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1600 
 
 Hjtniflcatlonj of the plot It U dUecmnd 
 
 came thoughtful, moody, and sullen ; held se- 
 cret consultations with desperate intriguers, and 
 finally formed a scheme to organize a rebellion. 
 to bring King James's troops to England to sup- 
 port it, to take possession of the Tower and of 
 the strong-holds about London, to seize the pal- 
 aoo of the queen, overturn her g jvernment, and 
 compel her both to acknowledge James's right 
 to the succession and to restore Essex himself 
 to power. 
 
 The personal character of Essex had given 
 him a very wide-spread popularity and influ- 
 ence, and he had, consequently, very extensive 
 materials at his command fbr organizing a pow- 
 erful conspiracy. The plot was gradually ma- 
 tured, extending itself, in the course of the few 
 following months, not only throughout England, 
 but also into France and Spain. The time for 
 the final explosion was drawing near, when, as 
 usual in such oases, intelligence of the exist- 
 ence of this treason, in the form of vague ru- 
 mors, reached the queen. One day, when th 
 leading conspirators were assembled at Essex's 
 palace, a messenger came to summon the earl 
 to appear before the council. They received, 
 also.; private intelligence that their plots were 
 probably discovered. While they were oonsid-
 
 1600.] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 251 
 
 Aaxlonj deliberation*. The rtainf determined vpoa. 
 
 ering what to do in this emergency all in a 
 state of great perplexity and fear a person 
 earn*, pretending to be a deputy sent from sonic 
 if the principal citizens of London, to say to 
 Essex that they were ready to espouse his 
 cause. Essex immediately became urgent to 
 commence the insurrection at once. Some of 
 his friends, on the other hand, were in favor of 
 abandoning the enterprise, and flying from the 
 country ; but Essex said he had rather be shot 
 at the head of his bands, than to wander all his 
 days beyond the seas, a fugitive and a vagabond. 
 The conspirators acceded to their leader's 
 councils. They sent word, accordingly, into 
 the city, and began to make their arrangements 
 to rise in arms the next morning. The night 
 was spent in anxious preparations. Early in 
 the morning, a deputation of some of the high- 
 est officers of the government, with a train of 
 attendants, came to Essex's palace, and de- 
 manded entrance in the name of the queen 
 The gates of the palace were shut and guarded, 
 it last, after some hesitation and delay, the 
 Conspirators opened a wicket, that is, a small 
 gate within the large one, which would admit 
 one person at a time. They allowed the officers 
 themselves to enter, but shut the gate immedi-
 
 252 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1600 
 
 EtMZ outer* the city 
 
 ately so as to exclude the attendants. The offi- 
 cers found themselves in a large court-yard fili- 
 al with armed men, Essex standing calmly at 
 &:- head of them. They demanded what WM 
 the meaning of such an unusual assemblage. 
 Essex replied that it was to defend his life from 
 conspiracies formed against it by his enemies. 
 The officers denied this danger, and began to 
 expostulate with Essex in angry terms, and the 
 attendants on his side to reply with vocifera- 
 tions and threats, when Essex, to end the alter- 
 cation, took the officers into the palace. He 
 conducted them to a room and shut them up, 
 to keep them as hostages. 
 
 It was now near ten o'clock, and, leaving his 
 prisoners in their apartment, under a proper 
 guard, Essex sallied forth, with the more reso- 
 lute and desperate of his followers, and pro- 
 ceeded into the city, to bring out into action 
 the forces which he supposed were ready to co- 
 operate with him there. He rode on through 
 the streets, calling to arms, and shouting, "For 
 the queen ! For the queen !" His design was 
 to convey the impression that the movement 
 which he was making was not against the 
 queen herself, but against his own enemies in 
 her councils, and that she was herself on hi*
 
 1600.] THE EARL OP ESHEJL. 259 
 
 HM proclamation. 
 
 side. The people of London, however, oonld 
 not be so easily deceived. The mayor had re- 
 ceived warning before, from the connoM, to be 
 ready to suppress the movement, if one should 
 be made. As soon, therefore, as Essex and his 
 company were fairly in the city, the gates were 
 shut and barred to prevent his return. One of 
 the queen's principal ministers of state too, at 
 the head of a small troop of horsemen, came in 
 and rode through the streets, proclaiming Essex 
 a traitor, and calling upon all the citizens to 
 aid in arresting him. One of Essex's follower! 
 fired a pistol at this officer to stop his procla- 
 mation, but the people generally seemed dis- 
 posed to listen to him, and to comply with hi* 
 demand. After riding, therefore, through some 
 of the principal streets, he returned to the 
 queen, and reported to her that all was well in 
 the city ; there was no danger that Essex would 
 succeed in raising a rebellion there. 
 
 In the mean time, the further Essex proceed- 
 ed, the more he found himself environed with 
 difficulties and dangers. The people began to 
 Assemble here and there with evident intent to 
 impede his movements. They blocked up the 
 streets with carts and coaches to prevent his es- 
 cape. His followers, one after another, finding
 
 254 QUEEN ELIZABETH [IftOO 
 
 EMX'I bopeleM condition. He escapes to hi* palace 
 
 all hope of success gone, abandoned their de- 
 spairing leader and fled. Essex himself, with 
 the few who still adhered to him, wandered 
 about till two o'clock, finding the way of retreat 
 every where hemmed up against him. At 
 length he fled to the river side, took a boat, 
 with the few who still remained with him, and 
 ordered the watermen to row as rapidly as pos- 
 sible up the river. They landed at Westmin- 
 ster, retreated to Essex's house, fled into it with 
 the utmost precipitation, and barricaded the 
 doors. Essex himself was excited in the high- 
 est degree, fully determined to die there rather 
 than surrender himself a prisoner. The terri- 
 ble desperation to which men are reduced in 
 emergencies like these is shown by the fact that 
 one of his followers did actually station himself 
 at a window bare-headed, inviting a shot from 
 the pistols of the pursuers, who had by this time 
 environed the house, and were preparing to fore* 
 their way in. His plan succeeded. He was 
 shot, and died that night. 
 
 Essex himself was not quite so desperate aa 
 this. He soon saw, however, that he must soon- 
 er or later yield. He could not stand a siege 
 in his own private dwelling against the whole 
 force of the English realm. Ho surrendered
 
 1600.J THE EARL OP ESSEX 5J55 
 
 Eaaex made prisoner, tried, and condemned. HI* reman* 
 
 aboat six in the evening, and was sent to the 
 Tower. He was soon afterward brought to tri- 
 al. The facts, with all the arrangements and 
 details of the conspiracy, were fully proved, and 
 he was condemned to die. 
 
 As the unhappy prisoner lay in his gloomy 
 dungeon in the Tower, the insane excitement 
 under which he had for so many months been 
 acting slowly ebbed away. He awoke from it 
 gradually, as one recovers his senses after a 
 dreadful dieam. He saw how utterly irretriev- 
 able was the mischief which had been done 
 Remorse for his guilt in having attempted to 
 destroy the peace of the kingdom to gratify his 
 own personal feelings of revenge ; recollections 
 of the favors which Elizabeth had shown him, 
 and of the love which she had felt for him, ob- 
 viously so deep and sincere ; the consciousness 
 that his life was fairly forfeited, and that he 
 must die to lie in his cell and think of these 
 things, overwhelmed him with anguish and dt> 
 gpair. The brilliant prospects which were no 
 recently before him were all forever gone, leav- 
 ing nothing in their place but the grim phan- 
 tom of an executioner, standing with an ax by 
 the side of a dreadful platform, with a block 
 upon it, half revealed and half hidden by the 
 Slack cloth which covered it like a pall
 
 256 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1600 
 
 EUxabetii'f dbtreM. The ring not iwt 
 
 Elizabeth, in her palace, was in a state of 
 mind scarcely less distressing than that of the 
 wretched prisoner in his cell. The old conflict 
 was renewed pride and resentment on the one 
 side, and love which would not be extinguished 
 on the other. If Essex would sue for pardon, 
 she would remit his sentence and allow him to 
 live. Why would he not do it ? If he would 
 send her the ring which she had given him for 
 exactly such an emergency, he might be saved. 
 Why did he not send it? The courtiers and 
 statesmen about her urged her to sign the war 
 rant ; the peace of the country demanded the 
 execution of the laws in a case of such unquee 
 tionable guilt. They told her, too, that Essex 
 wished to die, that he knew that he was hope- 
 lessly and irretrievably ruined, and that life, if 
 granted to him, was a boon which would com- 
 promise her own safety and confer no benefit on 
 him. Still Elizabeth waited and waited in an 
 agony of suspense, in hopes that the ring would 
 come ; the sending of it would be so far an act 
 of submission on his part as would put it in hei 
 power to do the rest. Her love could bend her 
 pride, indomitable as it usually was, almost tc 
 the whole concession, but it would not give up 
 quite all. It demanded some sacrifice on hi*
 
 1600.] THE EARL OP ESSEX 257 
 
 The warrant signed. Th platfoim 
 
 part, which sacrifice the sending of the ring 
 would have rendered. The ring did not come, 
 nor any petition for mercy, and at length the 
 fatal warrant was signed. 
 
 What the courtiers said about Essex's desire 
 to die was doubtless true. Like every other 
 person involved in irretrievable sufferings and 
 sorrows, he wanted to live, and he wanted to 
 die. The two contradictory desires shared do- 
 minion in his heart, sometimes struggling to- 
 gether in a tumultuous conflict, and sometimes 
 reigning in alternation, in calms more terrible, 
 in fact, than the tempests which preceded and 
 followed them. 
 
 At the appointed time the unhappy man was 
 led out to the court-yard in the Tower where 
 (he last scene was to be enacted. The lieuten- 
 ant of the Tower presided, dressed in a black 
 velvet gown, over a suit of black satin. The 
 " scaffold" was a platform about twelve feet 
 quare and four feet high, with a railing around 
 it, and steps by which to ascend. The block 
 was in the center of it, covered, as well as the 
 platform itself, with black cloth. There were 
 eat* erected near for those who were appointed 
 to be present at the execution. Essex ascend- 
 *d the platform with a firm step, and, survey* 
 2617
 
 258 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1600 
 
 Ewex'g Ust word*. Hie clodng eema 
 
 ing the solemn scene aronnd him with calmness 
 and composure, he began to speak. 
 
 He asked the forgiveness of God, of the spec- 
 tators present, and of the queen, for the crimes 
 for which he was about to suffer. He acknowl- 
 edged his guilt, and the justice of his condem- 
 nation. His mind seemed deeply imbued with 
 a sense of his accountability to God, and he 
 expressed a strong desire to be forgiven, for 
 Christ's sake, for all the sins which he had com- 
 mitted, which had been, he said, most numer- 
 ous and aggravated from his earliest years. He 
 asked the spectators present to join him in his 
 devotions, and he then proceeded to offer a short 
 prayer, in which he implored pardon for his sins, 
 and a long life and happy reign for the queen. 
 The prayer ended, all was ready. The execu- 
 tioner, according to the strange custom on such 
 occasions, then asked his pardon for the violence 
 which he was about to commit, which Essex 
 readily granted. Essex laid his head upon the 
 block, and it required three blows to complete 
 its severance from the body. When the deed 
 was done, the executioner took up the bleeding 
 head, saying solemnly, as he held it, " God save 
 the queen." 
 
 There were but few spectators present at thi
 
 1600.] THE EARL OF ESSEX. 259 
 
 The courtier. Hli tttmAimk pleasure 
 
 dreadful scene, and they were chiefly persona 
 required to attend in the discharge of their offi 
 oial duties. There was, however, one excep- 
 tion ; it was that of a courtier of high rank. rho 
 had long been Essex's inveterate enemy, and 
 who could not deny himself the savage pleasure 
 of witnessing his rival's destruction. But even 
 the stern and iron-hearted officers of the Tower 
 were shocked at his appearing at the scaffold. 
 They urged him to go away, and not distress 
 the dying man by his presence at such an hour 
 The courtier yielded so far as to withdraw from 
 the scaffold ; but he could not go far away. He 
 found a place where he could stand unobserved 
 to witness the scene, at the window of a turret 
 which overlooked the court-yard.
 
 260 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1600 
 
 of E*MX'I guilt General opinion of mank.'id, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE CONCLUSION. , 
 
 F11HERE can be no doubt that Essex was 
 -*- really guilty of the treason for which he was 
 condemned, but mankind have generally been 
 inclined to consider Elizabeth rather than him 
 as the one really accountable, both for the crime 
 and its consequences. To elate and intoxicate, 
 in the first place, an ardent and ambitious boy, 
 by flattery and favors, and then, in the end, on 
 the occurrence of real or fancied causes of dis- 
 pleasure, to tease and torment so sensitive and 
 impetuous a spirit to absolute madness and 
 phrensy, was to take the responsibility, in a 
 great measure, for all the effects which might 
 follow. At least so it has generally been re- 
 garded By almost all the readers of the story, 
 Essex is pitied and mourned it is Elizabeth 
 that is condemned. It is a melancholy story ; 
 but scenes exactly parallel to this case are con- 
 tinually occurring in private life all around na 
 where sorrows and sufferings which are, so faf 
 AM the heart is concerned, precisely the same
 
 1601.] THE CONCLUSION. 261 
 
 Bibeth'i dlrtroM. Fall of-fMX* party 
 
 result from the combined action, or rather, per. 
 haps, the alternating and contending action, of 
 fondness, passion, and obstinacy. The results 
 are always, in their own nature, the same, though 
 not often on so great a scale as to make the 
 wrong which follows treason against a realm, 
 and the consequences a beheading in the Tower. 
 There must have been some vague conscious- 
 ness of this her share in the guilt of the trans- 
 action in Elizabeth's mind, even while the trial 
 of Essex was going on. We know that she 
 was harassed by the most tormenting suspense 
 and perplexity while the question of the execu- 
 tion of his sentence was pending. Of course, 
 when the plot was discovered, Essex's party 
 and all his friends fell immediately from all in- 
 fluence and consideration at court. Many of 
 them were arrested and imprisoned, and foui 
 were executed, as he had been. The party 
 which had been opposed to him acquired at once 
 the entire ascendency, and they all, judges, 
 counselors, statesmen, and generals, combined 
 their influence to press upon the queen the ne- 
 cessity of his execution. She signed one war- 
 rant and delivered it to the officer ; but then, as 
 soon as the deed was done, she was so over- 
 whelmed with distress and anguish that she
 
 262 QUEEN ELIZABETH. [1601 
 
 Wound* of the heart Elizabeth's efforts to reoorer her iplrlta 
 
 sent to recall it, and had it canceled. Finally 
 she signed another, and the sentence was exe- 
 crated. 
 
 Time will cure, in our earlier years, most of 
 the sufferings, and calm most of the agitations 
 of the soul, however incurable and uncontrolla- 
 ble they may at first appear to the sufferer. But 
 in the later periods of life, when severe shocks 
 strike very heavily upon the soul, there is found 
 far less of buoyancy and recovering power to 
 meet the blow. In such oases the stunned and 
 bewildered spirit moves on, after receiving its 
 wound, staggering, as it were, with faintness 
 and pain, and leaving it for a long time uncer- 
 tain whether it will ultimately rise and recover, 
 or sink down and die. 
 
 Dreadfully wounded as Elizabeth was, in all 
 the inmost feelings and affections of her heart, 
 by the execution of her beloved favorite, she 
 was a woman of far too much spirit and ener- 
 gy to yield without a struggle. She made the 
 greatest efforts possible after his death to ban- 
 jsh the subject from her mind, and to recover 
 her wonted spirits. She went on hunting ex- 
 cursions and parties of pleasure. She prosecu- 
 ted with great energy her war with the Span- 
 iards, and tried to interest herself in the siege
 
 I602.J THE CONCLUSION. 26S 
 
 EmbMnga from Fnme*. A oonremtka 
 
 and defense of Continental cities. She receiv- 
 ed an embassage from the court of France with 
 great pomp and parade, and made a grand prog* 
 ress through a part of her dominions, with a 
 long train of attendants, to the house of a no- 
 bleman, where she entertained the embassador 
 many days in magnificent state, at her own 
 expense, with plate and furniture brought from 
 her own palaces for the purpose. She even 
 planned an interview between herself and the 
 King of France, and went to Dover to effect it. 
 
 But all would not do. Nothing could drive 
 the thoughts of Essex from her mind, or dispel 
 the dejection with which the recollection of her 
 love for him, and of his unhappy fate, oppressed 
 her spirit. A year or two passed away, but 
 time brought no relief. Sometimes she was 
 fretful and peevish, and sometimes hopelessly 
 dejected and sad. She told the French embas- 
 sador one day that she was weary of her life, 
 and when she attempted to speak of Essex at 
 the cause of her grief, she sighed bitterly and 
 ourst into tears. 
 
 When she recovered her composure, she tod 
 the embassador that she had always been un- 
 easy about Essex while he lived, and, knowing 
 ois impetuosity of spirit and his ambition, she
 
 264 <4vBE* ELIZABETH. [1602 
 
 Tkoifhti of IMX. 
 
 had been afraid that he would one day attempt 
 something which would compromise his life, and 
 she had warned and entreated him not to b led 
 into any snob designs, for, if he did so, his fate 
 would have to be decided by the stern authority 
 of law, and not by her own indulgent feelings 
 but that all her earnest warnings had been in- 
 sufficient to save him. 
 
 It was the same whenever any thing occurred 
 which recalled thoughts of Essex to her mind ; 
 it almost always brought tears to her eyes. 
 When Essex was commanding in Ireland, it 
 will be recollected that he had, on one occasion, 
 oome to a parley with Tyrone, the rebel leader, 
 across the current of a stream. An officer in 
 his army, named Harrington, had been with 
 him on this occasion, and present, though at a 
 little distance, during the interview. After Es- 
 sex had left Ireland, another lord-deputy had 
 been appointed ; but the rebellion continued to 
 give the government a great deal of trouble. 
 The Spaniards came over to Tyrone's assist- 
 ance, and Elizabeth's mind was much occupied 
 with plans for subduing him. One day Har- 
 rington was at court in the presence of the 
 queen, and she asked him if he had ever seen 
 Tyrone. Harrington replied that he had. The
 
 1602.] THE CONCLUSION. 265 
 
 n OvntoM of NottfafhML 
 
 queen then recollected the former intenriew 
 which Harrington had had with him, and she 
 said, ' Oh, now I recollect that yon have seen 
 him before !" This thought recalled Essex so 
 forcibly to her mind, and filled her with such 
 painful emotions, that she looked np to Har- 
 rington with a countenance mil of grief: tears 
 came to her eyes, and she beat her breast with 
 every indication of extreme mental suffering. 
 
 Things went on in this way until toward the 
 close of 1602, when an incident occurred which 
 seemed to strike down at once and forever what 
 little strength and spirit the queen had remain- 
 ing. The Countess of Nottingham, a celebra- 
 ted lady of the court, was dangerously sick, and 
 had sent for the queen to come and see her, 
 saying that she had a communication to make 
 to her majesty herself, personally, which she 
 was very anxious to make to her before she 
 died The queen went accordingly to see her. 
 
 When she arrived at the bedside the count- 
 US showed her a ring. Elizabeth immediately 
 reoogniied it as the ring which she had given 
 to Essex, and which she had promised to con- 
 sider a special pledge of her protection, and 
 which was to be sent to her by him whenever 
 he found himself in any extremity of danger
 
 266 QUEKN ELIZABETH [1602 
 
 eofeoiaa. The queen't todlfBtto 
 
 and distress. The queen eagerly demanded 
 where it came from. The countess replied thai 
 Essex had sent the ring to her during his im- 
 prisonment in the Tower, and after his con- 
 damnation, with an earnest request that she 
 would deliver it to the queen as the token of 
 her promise of protection, and of his own sup- 
 plication for mercy. The countess added that 
 the had intended to deliver the ring according 
 to Essex's request, but her husband, who was 
 the unhappy prisoner's enemy, forbade her to 
 do it ; that ever since the execution of Essex 
 he had been greatly distressed at the conse- 
 quences of her having withheld the ring ; and 
 that now, as she was about to leave the world 
 herself, she felt that she could not die in peace 
 without first seeing the queen, and acknowl- 
 edging fully what she had done, and imploring 
 her forgiveness. 
 
 The queen was thrown into a state of ex- 
 treme indignation and displeasure by this state- 
 ment She reproached the dying countess in 
 the bitterest terms, and shook her as she lay 
 helpless in her bed, saying, " God may forgive 
 you if he pleases, but /never will !" She then 
 went away in a rage. 
 
 Her exasperation, however, against the count-
 
 1603.] THE CONCLUSION. 307 
 
 Sitter nTt*)?***** The quaea ramoTM to BttBMai 
 
 ess was Boon succeeded by bursts of inconsola- 
 ble grief at the recollection of the hopeless and 
 irretrievable loss of the object of her affection, 
 whose image the ring called back so forcibly to 
 her mind. Her imagination wandered in wretch- 
 edness and despair to the gloomy dungeon in 
 the Tower where Essex had been confined, and 
 painted him pining there, day after day, in 
 dreadful suspense and anxiety, waiting for her 
 to redeem the solemn pledge by which she had 
 bound herself in giving him the ring. All the 
 sorrow which she had felt at his untimely and 
 cruel fate was awakened afresh, and became 
 more poignant than ever. She made them 
 place cushions for her upon the floor, in the 
 most inner and secluded of her apartments, and 
 there she would lie all the day long, her hair 
 disheveled, her dress neglected, her food refused, 
 and her mind a prey to almost uninterrupted 
 anguish and grief. 
 
 In January, 1603, she felt that she was 
 drawing toward her end, and she decided to be 
 removed from Westminster to Richmond, bo- 
 cause there was there an arrangement of closets 
 communicating with her chamber, in whiftV 
 she could easily and conveniently attend divin 
 service. She felt that she had now done wit
 
 268 QUKBH ELIZABETH. [1603 
 
 TTlaihrtfc grow* worm Tte prints chapel and tha eloMta 
 
 the world, and all the relief and comfort which 
 he oould find at all from the pressure of her 
 distress was in that sense of protection and safe- 
 ty which she experienced when in the presence 
 f God and listening to the exercises of devotion 
 It was a cold and stormy day in January 
 when she went to Richmond ; but, being rest- 
 lees and ill at ease, she would not be deterred 
 by that circumstance from making the journey. 
 She became worse after this removal. She 
 made them put cushions again for her upon the 
 floor, and she would lie upon them all the day, 
 refusing to go to her bed. There was a com- 
 munication from her chamber to closets con- 
 nected with a chapel, where she had been ac- 
 customed to sit and hear divine service. These 
 closets were of the form of small galleries, where 
 the queen and her immediate attendants oould 
 sit. There was one open and public ; another 
 a smaller one was private, with curtains 
 which oould be drawn before it, so as to screen 
 those within from the notice of the congrega- 
 tion. The queen intended, first, to go into the 
 great closet ; but, feeling too weak for this, she 
 changed her mind, and ordered the private one 
 to be prepared. At last she decided not to at- 
 tempt to make even this effort, but ordered the
 
 1603.J THB CONCLUSION. 271 
 
 Tb iHto| ring. tt qncra'i frlead* abandon W 
 
 cushions to be put down upon the floor, near 
 the entrance, in hr own room, and she laj 
 there while the prayers were read, listening to 
 the Toioe of the clergyman as it came in to her 
 through the open door. 
 
 One day she asked them to take off the wed- 
 ding ring with which she had commemorated 
 her espousal to her kingdom and her people on 
 the day of her coronation. The flesh had swoll- 
 en around it so that it could not be removed. 
 The attendants procured an instrument and oat 
 it in two, and so relieved the finger from the 
 pressure. The work was done in silence and 
 solemnity, the queen herself, as well as the at- 
 tendants, regarding it as a symbol that the un- 
 ion, of which the ring had been the pledge, wa 
 about to be sundered forever. 
 
 She sunk rapidly day by day, and, as it be- 
 came more and more probable that she would 
 soon cease to live, the nobles and statesmen 
 who had been attendants at her court for so 
 mamy years withdrew one after another from 
 the palace, and left London secretly, but with 
 eager dispatch, to make their way to Scotland, 
 in order to be the first to hail King James, the 
 moment they should learn that Elizabeth had 
 eeaned to breathe.
 
 272 QUBBN ELIZABETH. [1603 
 
 fh* qm*-m i Toio* Ml*. She call* her conmrtl together 
 
 Her being abandoned thus by these heartiest 
 friends did not escape the notice of the dying 
 queen. Though her strength of body was al- 
 most gone, the soul was as active and busy as 
 erer withir. its failing tenement. She watched 
 every thing noticed every thing, growing more 
 and more jealous and irritable just in propor- 
 tion as her situation became helpless and for- 
 .orn. Every thing seemed to conspire to deep- 
 en the despondency and gloom which darkened 
 her dying hours. 
 
 Her strength rapidly declined. Her voice 
 grew fainter and fainter, until, on the 23d of 
 March, she could no longer speak. In the after- 
 noon of that day she aroused herself a little, 
 and contrived to make signs to have her coun- 
 cil called to her bedside. Those who had not 
 gone to Scotland came They asked her whom 
 she wished to have succeed her on the throne. 
 She could not answer, but when they named 
 King James of Scot and, she made a sign of as- 
 ent. After a time the counselors went away. 
 
 At six o'clock in the evening she made signs 
 for the archbishop and her chaplains to some to 
 her. They were sent 'for and came. When 
 they came in, they approached her bedside ana 
 kneeled. The patient was lying upon her back
 
 TFK CONCLUSION. 273 
 
 T"he chaplains. The prayer* 
 
 peeohless, bat her eye, still moving- watchfully 
 and observing every thing, showed that the fac- 
 ulties of the soul were unimpaired. One of the 
 clergymen asked her questions respecting her 
 faith. Of course, she could not answer in words. 
 She made signs, however, with her eyes and 
 her hands, which seemed to prove that she had 
 full possession of all her faculties. The by- 
 standers looked on with breathless attention. 
 The aged bishop, who had asked the questions, 
 then began to pray for her. He continued his 
 prayer a long time, and then pronouncing a 
 benediction upon her, he was about to rise, but 
 she made a sign. The bishop did not under- 
 stand what she meant, but a lady present said 
 that she wished the bishop to continue his de- 
 votions. The bishop, though weary with kneel- 
 ing, continued his prayer half an hour longer. 
 He then closed again, but she repeated the sign. 
 Thd bishop, finding thus that his ministrations 
 gave her so much comfort, renewed them with 
 greater fervency than before, and continued hia 
 supplications for a long time so long, that those 
 who had been present at the commencement of 
 the service went away softly, one after another, 
 to that when at last the bishop retired, the queen 
 
 was left with her nurses and her women alone 
 2618
 
 274 QUEER ELIZABETH. [1603 
 
 The queen's death. King Jame* proclaimed 
 
 These attendants remained at their dying sov- 
 ereign's bedside for a few hours longer, watch- 
 ing the failing pulse, the quickened breathing, 
 and all the other indications of approaching dis- 
 solution. As hour after hour thus passed on, 
 they wished that their weary task was done, 
 and that both their patient and themselves were 
 at rest. This lasted till midnight, and then the 
 intelligence was communicated about the pal- 
 ace that Elizabeth was no more. 
 
 In the mean time all the roads to Scotland 
 were covered, as it were, with eager aspirants 
 for the favor of the distinguished personage 
 there, who, from the instant Elizabeth ceased 
 to breathe, became King of England. They 
 Booked into Scotland by sea and by land, urg- 
 ing theur way as rapidly as possible, each eager 
 to be foremost in paying his homage to the ris- 
 ing sun. The council assembled and proclaim- 
 ed King James. Elizabeth lay neglected and 
 forgotten. The interest she had inspired was 
 awakened only by her power, and that being 
 gone, nobody mourned for her, or lamented her 
 death. The attention of the kingdom was soon 
 universally absorbed in the plans for receiving 
 and proclaiming the new monarch froM the 
 North, and in anticipations of the splendid pa
 
 1603.1 
 
 CONCL,UIOM. 
 
 272 
 
 Portrait of June* the First 
 
 Burial of the qiwea 
 
 geantry which was to signalize his taking hv 
 seat upon the English throne. 
 
 Kiwo JAKKS L 
 
 In due time the body of the deceased queen 
 fras deposited with those of its progenitors, in 
 the ancient place of sepulture of the English 
 kings. Westminster Abbey. Westminster Ab-
 
 27(5 UEEN ELIZ \BKTH. 
 
 Wertmimter Abbey. IU hlMory 
 
 bey, in the sense in which that term is used in 
 history, is not to be oonoeived of as a building, 
 nor even as a group of buildings, but rather an 
 a long succession of buildings like a dynasty, 
 following each other in a line, the various struc- 
 tures having been renewed and rebuilt con- 
 stantly, as parts or wholes decayed, from cen- 
 tury to century, for twelve or fifteen hundred 
 years. The spot received its consecration at a 
 very early day. It was then an island formed 
 by the waters of a little tributary to the 
 Thames, which has long since entirely disap- 
 peared. Written records of its sacredness, and 
 of the sacred structures which have occupied it, 
 go back more than a thousand years, and be- 
 yond that time tradition mounts' still further, 
 carrying the consecration of the spot almost to 
 the Christian era, by telling us that the Apostle 
 Peter himself, in his missionary wanderings, 
 had a chapel or an oratory there. 
 
 The spot has been, in all ages, the great bur* 
 ial-place of the English kings, whose monn* 
 ments and effigies adorn its walls and aisles in 
 endless variety. A vast number, too, of the 
 statesmen, generals, and naval heroes of the 
 British empire have been admitted to the hon- 
 or of having their remains deposited under Hi
 
 I603J THB CONCLUSIOH. 877 
 
 The PotU? Corner. Henrv (be Berenth'i Chcpel 
 
 marble floor. Even literary genius has a lit- 
 tle corner assigned it the mighty aristocracy 
 whose mortal remains it is the main functioD 
 of the building to protect having so far conde- 
 scended toward intellectual greatness as to al- 
 low to Milton, Addison, and Shakspeare mod- 
 est monuments behind a door. The place is 
 called the Poets' Corner ; and so famed and cel- 
 ebrated is this vast edifice every where, that the 
 phrase by which even this obscure and insig- 
 nificant portion of it is known is familiar to 
 every ear and every tongue throughout the 
 English world. 
 
 The body of Elizabeth was interred in a part 
 of the edifice called Henry the Seventh's Chap- 
 el. The word chapel, in the European sense, 
 denotes ordinarily a subordinate edifice connect- 
 ed with the main body of a church, and open- 
 ing into it. Most frequently, in fact, a chapel 
 is a mere recess or alcove, separated from the 
 area of the church by a small screen or gilded 
 iron railing. In the Catholic churches these 
 chapels are ornamented with sculptures and 
 paintings, with altars and crucifixes, and other 
 uch furniture. Sometimes they are built ex- 
 pressly as monumental structures, in which 
 ease they are often of considerable size, and arc
 
 278 QUEBN ELIZABETH. [1603 
 
 ornamented with great magnificence and splen- 
 dor. This was the case with Henry the Sev- 
 enth's Chapel. The whole building is, in fact, 
 his tomb. Vast sums were expended in th 
 construction of it, the work of which extended 
 through two reigns. It is now one of the most 
 attractive portions of the great pile which it 
 adorns. Elizabeth's, body was deposited here, 
 and here her monument was erected. 
 
 It will be recollected that James, who now 
 succeeded Elizabeth, was the son of Mary Queen 
 *f Scots. Soon after his accession to the throne, 
 he removed the remains of his mother from their 
 place of sepulture near the scene of her execu- 
 tion, and interred them in the south aisle of 
 Henry the Seventh's Chapel, while the body 
 of Elizabeth occupied the northern one.* He 
 placed, also, over Mary's remains, a tomb 
 Tory similar in its plan and design to that by 
 which the memory of Elizabeth was honored ; 
 and there the rival queens have since reposed 
 in silence and peace under the same paved floor 
 And though the monuments do not materially 
 
 * Bee our history of Mary Queen of Scots, near the close 
 Aisle* in English Cathedral churches are colonnade*, at 
 pace* between columns on an open floor, and not passage* 
 between pews, aa with a*. In monumental church** tike 
 Westminster Abbey there are no pern
 
 ELIZABETH'.^ TOMB IN WESTMINSTER ABBKT
 
 1603.1 THE CONCLUSION 281 
 
 f eeting* of rUiton. Summary of Elizabeth's character 
 
 differ in their architectural forms, it is found 
 that the visitors who go continually to the spot 
 gaze with a brief though lively interest at the 
 >ne, while they linger long and mournfully over 
 the other. 
 
 The character of Elizabeth has not generally 
 awakened among mankind much commendation 
 or sympathy. They who censure or condemn 
 her should, however, reflect how very conspicu- 
 ous was the stage on which she acted, and how 
 minutely all her faults have been paraded to 
 the world. That she deserved the reproaches 
 which have been so freely cast upon her mem- 
 ory can not be denied. It will moderate, how- 
 ever, any tendency to censoriousness in our 
 mode of uttering them, if we consider to how 
 little advantage we should ourselves appear, if 
 all the words of fretfulness and irritability which 
 we have ever spoken, all our insincerity and 
 double-dealing, our selfishness, our pride, oui 
 petty resentments, our caprice, and our count* 
 less follies, were exposed as fully to the public 
 gaze as were those of this renowned and glori- 
 ous, but unhappy queen. 
 
 THE END.
 
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