Chapter XXXI - England Under Elizabeth

by Charles Dickens

　　There was great rejoicing all over the land when the Lords of theCouncil went down to Hatfield, to hail the Princess Elizabeth asthe new Queen of England. Weary of the barbarities of Mary'sreign, the people looked with hope and gladness to the newSovereign. The nation seemed to wake from a horrible dream; andHeaven, so long hidden by the smoke of the fires that roasted menand women to death, appeared to brighten once more.

　　Queen Elizabeth was five-and-twenty years of age when she rodethrough the streets of London, from the Tower to Westminster Abbey,to be crowned. Her countenance was strongly marked, but on thewhole, commanding and dignified; her hair was red, and her nosesomething too long and sharp for a woman's. She was not thebeautiful creature her courtiers made out; but she was well enough,and no doubt looked all the better for coming after the dark andgloomy Mary. She was well educated, but a roundabout writer, andrather a hard swearer and coarse talker. She was clever, butcunning and deceitful, and inherited much of her father's violenttemper. I mention this now, because she has been so over-praisedby one party, and so over-abused by another, that it is hardlypossible to understand the greater part of her reign without firstunderstanding what kind of woman she really was.

　　She began her reign with the great advantage of having a very wiseand careful Minister, Sir William Cecil, whom she afterwards madeLord Burleigh. Altogether, the people had greater reason forrejoicing than they usually had, when there were processions in thestreets; and they were happy with some reason. All kinds of showsand images were set up; Gog and Magog were hoisted to the top ofTemple Bar, and (which was more to the purpose) the Corporationdutifully presented the young Queen with the sum of a thousandmarks in gold - so heavy a present, that she was obliged to take itinto her carriage with both hands. The coronation was a greatsuccess; and, on the next day, one of the courtiers presented apetition to the new Queen, praying that as it was the custom torelease some prisoners on such occasions, she would have thegoodness to release the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, andJohn, and also the Apostle Saint Paul, who had been for some timeshut up in a strange language so that the people could not get atthem.

　　To this, the Queen replied that it would be better first to inquireof themselves whether they desired to be released or not; and, as ameans of finding out, a great public discussion - a sort ofreligious tournament - was appointed to take place between certainchampions of the two religions, in Westminster Abbey. You maysuppose that it was soon made pretty clear to common sense, thatfor people to benefit by what they repeat or read, it is rathernecessary they should understand something about it. Accordingly,a Church Service in plain English was settled, and other laws andregulations were made, completely establishing the great work ofthe Reformation. The Romish bishops and champions were not harshlydealt with, all things considered; and the Queen's Ministers wereboth prudent and merciful.

　　The one great trouble of this reign, and the unfortunate cause ofthe greater part of such turmoil and bloodshed as occurred in it,was Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots. We will try to understand, in asfew words as possible, who Mary was, what she was, and how she cameto be a thorn in the royal pillow of Elizabeth.

　　She was the daughter of the Queen Regent of Scotland, Mary ofGuise. She had been married, when a mere child, to the Dauphin,the son and heir of the King of France. The Pope, who pretendedthat no one could rightfully wear the crown of England without hisgracious permission, was strongly opposed to Elizabeth, who had notasked for the said gracious permission. And as Mary Queen of Scotswould have inherited the English crown in right of her birth,supposing the English Parliament not to have altered thesuccession, the Pope himself, and most of the discontented who werefollowers of his, maintained that Mary was the rightful Queen ofEngland, and Elizabeth the wrongful Queen. Mary being so closelyconnected with France, and France being jealous of England, therewas far greater danger in this than there would have been if shehad had no alliance with that great power. And when her younghusband, on the death of his father, became Francis the Second,King of France, the matter grew very serious. For, the youngcouple styled themselves King and Queen of England, and the Popewas disposed to help them by doing all the mischief he could.

　　Now, the reformed religion, under the guidance of a stern andpowerful preacher, named John Knox, and other such men, had beenmaking fierce progress in Scotland. It was still a half savagecountry, where there was a great deal of murdering and riotingcontinually going on; and the Reformers, instead of reforming thoseevils as they should have done, went to work in the ferocious oldScottish spirit, laying churches and chapels waste, pulling downpictures and altars, and knocking about the Grey Friars, and theBlack Friars, and the White Friars, and the friars of all sorts ofcolours, in all directions. This obdurate and harsh spirit of theScottish Reformers (the Scotch have always been rather a sullen andfrowning people in religious matters) put up the blood of theRomish French court, and caused France to send troops over toScotland, with the hope of setting the friars of all sorts ofcolours on their legs again; of conquering that country first, andEngland afterwards; and so crushing the Reformation all to pieces.The Scottish Reformers, who had formed a great league which theycalled The Congregation of the Lord, secretly represented toElizabeth that, if the reformed religion got the worst of it withthem, it would be likely to get the worst of it in England too; andthus, Elizabeth, though she had a high notion of the rights ofKings and Queens to do anything they liked, sent an army toScotland to support the Reformers, who were in arms against theirsovereign. All these proceedings led to a treaty of peace atEdinburgh, under which the French consented to depart from thekingdom. By a separate treaty, Mary and her young husband engagedto renounce their assumed title of King and Queen of England. Butthis treaty they never fulfilled.

　　It happened, soon after matters had got to this state, that theyoung French King died, leaving Mary a young widow. She was theninvited by her Scottish subjects to return home and reign overthem; and as she was not now happy where she was, she, after alittle time, complied.

　　Elizabeth had been Queen three years, when Mary Queen of Scotsembarked at Calais for her own rough, quarrelling country. As shecame out of the harbour, a vessel was lost before her eyes, and shesaid, 'O! good God! what an omen this is for such a voyage!' Shewas very fond of France, and sat on the deck, looking back at itand weeping, until it was quite dark. When she went to bed, shedirected to be called at daybreak, if the French coast were stillvisible, that she might behold it for the last time. As it provedto be a clear morning, this was done, and she again wept for thecountry she was leaving, and said many times, ' Farewell, France!Farewell, France! I shall never see thee again!' All this waslong remembered afterwards, as sorrowful and interesting in a fairyoung princess of nineteen. Indeed, I am afraid it gradually came,together with her other distresses, to surround her with greatersympathy than she deserved.

　　When she came to Scotland, and took up her abode at the palace ofHolyrood in Edinburgh, she found herself among uncouth strangersand wild uncomfortable customs very different from her experiencesin the court of France. The very people who were disposed to loveher, made her head ache when she was tired out by her voyage, witha serenade of discordant music - a fearful concert of bagpipes, Isuppose - and brought her and her train home to her palace onmiserable little Scotch horses that appeared to be half starved.Among the people who were not disposed to love her, she found thepowerful leaders of the Reformed Church, who were bitter upon heramusements, however innocent, and denounced music and dancing asworks of the devil. John Knox himself often lectured her,violently and angrily, and did much to make her life unhappy. Allthese reasons confirmed her old attachment to the Romish religion,and caused her, there is no doubt, most imprudently and dangerouslyboth for herself and for England too, to give a solemn pledge tothe heads of the Romish Church that if she ever succeeded to theEnglish crown, she would set up that religion again. In readingher unhappy history, you must always remember this; and also thatduring her whole life she was constantly put forward against theQueen, in some form or other, by the Romish party.

　　That Elizabeth, on the other hand, was not inclined to like her, ispretty certain. Elizabeth was very vain and jealous, and had anextraordinary dislike to people being married. She treated LadyCatherine Grey, sister of the beheaded Lady Jane, with suchshameful severity, for no other reason than her being secretlymarried, that she died and her husband was ruined; so, when asecond marriage for Mary began to be talked about, probablyElizabeth disliked her more. Not that Elizabeth wanted suitors ofher own, for they started up from Spain, Austria, Sweden, andEngland. Her English lover at this time, and one whom she muchfavoured too, was Lord Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester - himselfsecretly married to Amy Robsart, the daughter of an Englishgentleman, whom he was strongly suspected of causing to bemurdered, down at his country seat, Cumnor Hall in Berkshire, thathe might be free to marry the Queen. Upon this story, the greatwriter, Sir Walter Scott, has founded one of his best romances.But if Elizabeth knew how to lead her handsome favourite on, forher own vanity and pleasure, she knew how to stop him for her ownpride; and his love, and all the other proposals, came to nothing.The Queen always declared in good set speeches, that she wouldnever be married at all, but would live and die a Maiden Queen. Itwas a very pleasant and meritorious declaration, I suppose; but ithas been puffed and trumpeted so much, that I am rather tired of itmyself.

　　Divers princes proposed to marry Mary, but the English court hadreasons for being jealous of them all, and even proposed as amatter of policy that she should marry that very Earl of Leicesterwho had aspired to be the husband of Elizabeth. At last, LordDarnley, son of the Earl of Lennox, and himself descended from theRoyal Family of Scotland, went over with Elizabeth's consent to tryhis fortune at Holyrood. He was a tall simpleton; and could danceand play the guitar; but I know of nothing else he could do, unlessit were to get very drunk, and eat gluttonously, and make acontemptible spectacle of himself in many mean and vain ways.However, he gained Mary's heart, not disdaining in the pursuit ofhis object to ally himself with one of her secretaries, DavidRizzio, who had great influence with her. He soon married theQueen. This marriage does not say much for her, but what followedwill presently say less.

　　Mary's brother, the Earl of Murray, and head of the Protestantparty in Scotland, had opposed this marriage, partly on religiousgrounds, and partly perhaps from personal dislike of the verycontemptible bridegroom. When it had taken place, through Mary'sgaining over to it the more powerful of the lords about her, shebanished Murray for his pains; and, when he and some other noblesrose in arms to support the reformed religion, she herself, withina month of her wedding day, rode against them in armour with loadedpistols in her saddle. Driven out of Scotland, they presentedthemselves before Elizabeth - who called them traitors in public,and assisted them in private, according to her crafty nature.

　　Mary had been married but a little while, when she began to hateher husband, who, in his turn, began to hate that David Rizzio,with whom he had leagued to gain her favour, and whom he nowbelieved to be her lover. He hated Rizzio to that extent, that hemade a compact with Lord Ruthven and three other lords to get ridof him by murder. This wicked agreement they made in solemnsecrecy upon the first of March, fifteen hundred and sixty-six, andon the night of Saturday the ninth, the conspirators were broughtby Darnley up a private staircase, dark and steep, into a range ofrooms where they knew that Mary was sitting at supper with hersister, Lady Argyle, and this doomed man. When they went into theroom, Darnley took the Queen round the waist, and Lord Ruthven, whohad risen from a bed of sickness to do this murder, came in, gauntand ghastly, leaning on two men. Rizzio ran behind the Queen forshelter and protection. 'Let him come out of the room,' saidRuthven. 'He shall not leave the room,' replied the Queen; 'I readhis danger in your face, and it is my will that he remain here.'They then set upon him, struggled with him, overturned the table,dragged him out, and killed him with fifty-six stabs. When theQueen heard that he was dead, she said, 'No more tears. I willthink now of revenge!'

　　Within a day or two, she gained her husband over, and prevailed onthe tall idiot to abandon the conspirators and fly with her toDunbar. There, he issued a proclamation, audaciously and falselydenying that he had any knowledge of the late bloody business; andthere they were joined by the Earl Bothwell and some other nobles.With their help, they raised eight thousand men; returned toEdinburgh, and drove the assassins into England. Mary soonafterwards gave birth to a son - still thinking of revenge.

　　That she should have had a greater scorn for her husband after hislate cowardice and treachery than she had had before, was naturalenough. There is little doubt that she now began to love Bothwellinstead, and to plan with him means of getting rid of Darnley.Bothwell had such power over her that he induced her even to pardonthe assassins of Rizzio. The arrangements for the Christening ofthe young Prince were entrusted to him, and he was one of the mostimportant people at the ceremony, where the child was named James:Elizabeth being his godmother, though not present on the occasion.A week afterwards, Darnley, who had left Mary and gone to hisfather's house at Glasgow, being taken ill with the small-pox, shesent her own physician to attend him. But there is reason toapprehend that this was merely a show and a pretence, and that sheknew what was doing, when Bothwell within another month proposed toone of the late conspirators against Rizzio, to murder Darnley,'for that it was the Queen's mind that he should be taken away.'It is certain that on that very day she wrote to her ambassador inFrance, complaining of him, and yet went immediately to Glasgow,feigning to be very anxious about him, and to love him very much.If she wanted to get him in her power, she succeeded to her heart'scontent; for she induced him to go back with her to Edinburgh, andto occupy, instead of the palace, a lone house outside the citycalled the Kirk of Field. Here, he lived for about a week. OneSunday night, she remained with him until ten o'clock, and thenleft him, to go to Holyrood to be present at an entertainment givenin celebration of the marriage of one of her favourite servants.At two o'clock in the morning the city was shaken by a greatexplosion, and the Kirk of Field was blown to atoms.

　　Darnley's body was found next day lying under a tree at somedistance. How it came there, undisfigured and unscorched bygunpowder, and how this crime came to be so clumsily and strangelycommitted, it is impossible to discover. The deceitful characterof Mary, and the deceitful character of Elizabeth, have renderedalmost every part of their joint history uncertain and obscure.But, I fear that Mary was unquestionably a party to her husband'smurder, and that this was the revenge she had threatened. TheScotch people universally believed it. Voices cried out in thestreets of Edinburgh in the dead of the night, for justice on themurderess. Placards were posted by unknown hands in the publicplaces denouncing Bothwell as the murderer, and the Queen as hisaccomplice; and, when he afterwards married her (though himselfalready married), previously making a show of taking her prisonerby force, the indignation of the people knew no bounds. The womenparticularly are described as having been quite frantic against theQueen, and to have hooted and cried after her in the streets withterrific vehemence.

　　Such guilty unions seldom prosper. This husband and wife had livedtogether but a month, when they were separated for ever by thesuccesses of a band of Scotch nobles who associated against themfor the protection of the young Prince: whom Bothwell had vainlyendeavoured to lay hold of, and whom he would certainly havemurdered, if the Earl of Mar, in whose hands the boy was, had notbeen firmly and honourably faithful to his trust. Before thisangry power, Bothwell fled abroad, where he died, a prisoner andmad, nine miserable years afterwards. Mary being found by theassociated lords to deceive them at every turn, was sent a prisonerto Lochleven Castle; which, as it stood in the midst of a lake,could only be approached by boat. Here, one Lord Lindsay, who wasso much of a brute that the nobles would have done better if theyhad chosen a mere gentleman for their messenger, made her sign herabdication, and appoint Murray, Regent of Scotland. Here, too,Murray saw her in a sorrowing and humbled state.

　　She had better have remained in the castle of Lochleven, dullprison as it was, with the rippling of the lake against it, and themoving shadows of the water on the room walls; but she could notrest there, and more than once tried to escape. The first time shehad nearly succeeded, dressed in the clothes of her own washer-woman, but, putting up her hand to prevent one of the boatmen fromlifting her veil, the men suspected her, seeing how white it was,and rowed her back again. A short time afterwards, her fascinatingmanners enlisted in her cause a boy in the Castle, called thelittle Douglas, who, while the family were at supper, stole thekeys of the great gate, went softly out with the Queen, locked thegate on the outside, and rowed her away across the lake, sinkingthe keys as they went along. On the opposite shore she was met byanother Douglas, and some few lords; and, so accompanied, rode awayon horseback to Hamilton, where they raised three thousand men.Here, she issued a proclamation declaring that the abdication shehad signed in her prison was illegal, and requiring the Regent toyield to his lawful Queen. Being a steady soldier, and in no waydiscomposed although he was without an army, Murray pretended totreat with her, until he had collected a force about half equal toher own, and then he gave her battle. In one quarter of an hour hecut down all her hopes. She had another weary ride on horse-backof sixty long Scotch miles, and took shelter at Dundrennan Abbey,whence she fled for safety to Elizabeth's dominions.

　　Mary Queen of Scots came to England - to her own ruin, the troubleof the kingdom, and the misery and death of many - in the year onethousand five hundred and sixty-eight. How she left it and theworld, nineteen years afterwards, we have now to see.

　　SECOND PART

　　When Mary Queen of Scots arrived in England, without money and evenwithout any other clothes than those she wore, she wrote toElizabeth, representing herself as an innocent and injured piece ofRoyalty, and entreating her assistance to oblige her Scottishsubjects to take her back again and obey her. But, as hercharacter was already known in England to be a very different onefrom what she made it out to be, she was told in answer that shemust first clear herself. Made uneasy by this condition, Mary,rather than stay in England, would have gone to Spain, or toFrance, or would even have gone back to Scotland. But, as herdoing either would have been likely to trouble England afresh, itwas decided that she should be detained here. She first came toCarlisle, and, after that, was moved about from castle to castle,as was considered necessary; but England she never left again.

　　After trying very hard to get rid of the necessity of clearingherself, Mary, advised by Lord Herries, her best friend in England,agreed to answer the charges against her, if the Scottish noblemenwho made them would attend to maintain them before such Englishnoblemen as Elizabeth might appoint for that purpose. Accordingly,such an assembly, under the name of a conference, met, first atYork, and afterwards at Hampton Court. In its presence LordLennox, Darnley's father, openly charged Mary with the murder ofhis son; and whatever Mary's friends may now say or write in herbehalf, there is no doubt that, when her brother Murray producedagainst her a casket containing certain guilty letters and verseswhich he stated to have passed between her and Bothwell, shewithdrew from the inquiry. Consequently, it is to be supposed thatshe was then considered guilty by those who had the bestopportunities of judging of the truth, and that the feeling whichafterwards arose in her behalf was a very generous but not a veryreasonable one.

　　However, the Duke of Norfolk, an honourable but rather weaknobleman, partly because Mary was captivating, partly because hewas ambitious, partly because he was over-persuaded by artfulplotters against Elizabeth, conceived a strong idea that he wouldlike to marry the Queen of Scots - though he was a littlefrightened, too, by the letters in the casket. This idea beingsecretly encouraged by some of the noblemen of Elizabeth's court,and even by the favourite Earl of Leicester (because it wasobjected to by other favourites who were his rivals), Maryexpressed her approval of it, and the King of France and the Kingof Spain are supposed to have done the same. It was not so quietlyplanned, though, but that it came to Elizabeth's ears, who warnedthe Duke 'to be careful what sort of pillow he was going to lay hishead upon.' He made a humble reply at the time; but turned sulkysoon afterwards, and, being considered dangerous, was sent to theTower.

　　Thus, from the moment of Mary's coming to England she began to bethe centre of plots and miseries.

　　A rise of the Catholics in the north was the next of these, and itwas only checked by many executions and much bloodshed. It wasfollowed by a great conspiracy of the Pope and some of the Catholicsovereigns of Europe to depose Elizabeth, place Mary on the throne,and restore the unreformed religion. It is almost impossible todoubt that Mary knew and approved of this; and the Pope himself wasso hot in the matter that he issued a bull, in which he openlycalled Elizabeth the 'pretended Queen' of England, excommunicatedher, and excommunicated all her subjects who should continue toobey her. A copy of this miserable paper got into London, and wasfound one morning publicly posted on the Bishop of London's gate.A great hue and cry being raised, another copy was found in thechamber of a student of Lincoln's Inn, who confessed, being putupon the rack, that he had received it from one John Felton, a richgentleman who lived across the Thames, near Southwark. This JohnFelton, being put upon the rack too, confessed that he had postedthe placard on the Bishop's gate. For this offence he was, withinfour days, taken to St. Paul's Churchyard, and there hanged andquartered. As to the Pope's bull, the people by the reformationhaving thrown off the Pope, did not care much, you may suppose, forthe Pope's throwing off them. It was a mere dirty piece of paper,and not half so powerful as a street ballad.

　　On the very day when Felton was brought to his trial, the poor Dukeof Norfolk was released. It would have been well for him if he hadkept away from the Tower evermore, and from the snares that hadtaken him there. But, even while he was in that dismal place hecorresponded with Mary, and as soon as he was out of it, he beganto plot again. Being discovered in correspondence with the Pope,with a view to a rising in England which should force Elizabeth toconsent to his marriage with Mary and to repeal the laws againstthe Catholics, he was re-committed to the Tower and brought totrial. He was found guilty by the unanimous verdict of the Lordswho tried him, and was sentenced to the block.

　　It is very difficult to make out, at this distance of time, andbetween opposite accounts, whether Elizabeth really was a humanewoman, or desired to appear so, or was fearful of shedding theblood of people of great name who were popular in the country.Twice she commanded and countermanded the execution of this Duke,and it did not take place until five months after his trial. Thescaffold was erected on Tower Hill, and there he died like a braveman. He refused to have his eyes bandaged, saying that he was notat all afraid of death; and he admitted the justice of hissentence, and was much regretted by the people.

　　Although Mary had shrunk at the most important time from disprovingher guilt, she was very careful never to do anything that wouldadmit it. All such proposals as were made to her by Elizabeth forher release, required that admission in some form or other, andtherefore came to nothing. Moreover, both women being artful andtreacherous, and neither ever trusting the other, it was not likelythat they could ever make an agreement. So, the Parliament,aggravated by what the Pope had done, made new and strong lawsagainst the spreading of the Catholic religion in England, anddeclared it treason in any one to say that the Queen and hersuccessors were not the lawful sovereigns of England. It wouldhave done more than this, but for Elizabeth's moderation.

　　Since the Reformation, there had come to be three great sects ofreligious people - or people who called themselves so - in England;that is to say, those who belonged to the Reformed Church, thosewho belonged to the Unreformed Church, and those who were calledthe Puritans, because they said that they wanted to have everythingvery pure and plain in all the Church service. These last were forthe most part an uncomfortable people, who thought it highlymeritorious to dress in a hideous manner, talk through their noses,and oppose all harmless enjoyments. But they were powerful too,and very much in earnest, and they were one and all the determinedenemies of the Queen of Scots. The Protestant feeling in Englandwas further strengthened by the tremendous cruelties to whichProtestants were exposed in France and in the Netherlands. Scoresof thousands of them were put to death in those countries withevery cruelty that can be imagined, and at last, in the autumn ofthe year one thousand five hundred and seventy-two, one of thegreatest barbarities ever committed in the world took place atParis.

　　It is called in history, The Massacre of Saint Bartholomew, becauseit took place on Saint Bartholomew's Eve. The day fell on Saturdaythe twenty-third of August. On that day all the great leaders ofthe Protestants (who were there called Huguenots) were assembledtogether, for the purpose, as was represented to them, of doinghonour to the marriage of their chief, the young King of Navarre,with the sister of Charles the Ninth: a miserable young King whothen occupied the French throne. This dull creature was made tobelieve by his mother and other fierce Catholics about him that theHuguenots meant to take his life; and he was persuaded to givesecret orders that, on the tolling of a great bell, they should befallen upon by an overpowering force of armed men, and slaughteredwherever they could be found. When the appointed hour was close athand, the stupid wretch, trembling from head to foot, was takeninto a balcony by his mother to see the atrocious work begun. Themoment the bell tolled, the murderers broke forth. During all thatnight and the two next days, they broke into the houses, fired thehouses, shot and stabbed the Protestants, men, women, and children,and flung their bodies into the streets. They were shot at in thestreets as they passed along, and their blood ran down the gutters.Upwards of ten thousand Protestants were killed in Paris alone; inall France four or five times that number. To return thanks toHeaven for these diabolical murders, the Pope and his trainactually went in public procession at Rome, and as if this were notshame enough for them, they had a medal struck to commemorate theevent. But, however comfortable the wholesale murders were tothese high authorities, they had not that soothing effect upon thedoll-King. I am happy to state that he never knew a moment's peaceafterwards; that he was continually crying out that he saw theHuguenots covered with blood and wounds falling dead before him;and that he died within a year, shrieking and yelling and raving tothat degree, that if all the Popes who had ever lived had beenrolled into one, they would not have afforded His guilty Majestythe slightest consolation.

　　When the terrible news of the massacre arrived in England, it madea powerful impression indeed upon the people. If they began to runa little wild against the Catholics at about this time, thisfearful reason for it, coming so soon after the days of bloodyQueen Mary, must be remembered in their excuse. The Court was notquite so honest as the people - but perhaps it sometimes is not.It received the French ambassador, with all the lords and ladiesdressed in deep mourning, and keeping a profound silence.Nevertheless, a proposal of marriage which he had made to Elizabethonly two days before the eve of Saint Bartholomew, on behalf of theDuke of Alenon, the French King's brother, a boy of seventeen,still went on; while on the other hand, in her usual crafty way,the Queen secretly supplied the Huguenots with money and weapons.

　　I must say that for a Queen who made all those fine speeches, ofwhich I have confessed myself to be rather tired, about living anddying a Maiden Queen, Elizabeth was 'going' to be married prettyoften. Besides always having some English favourite or other whomshe by turns encouraged and swore at and knocked about - for themaiden Queen was very free with her fists - she held this FrenchDuke off and on through several years. When he at last came overto England, the marriage articles were actually drawn up, and itwas settled that the wedding should take place in six weeks. TheQueen was then so bent upon it, that she prosecuted a poor Puritannamed Stubbs, and a poor bookseller named Page, for writing andpublishing a pamphlet against it. Their right hands were choppedoff for this crime; and poor Stubbs - more loyal than I should havebeen myself under the circumstances - immediately pulled off hishat with his left hand, and cried, 'God save the Queen!' Stubbswas cruelly treated; for the marriage never took place after all,though the Queen pledged herself to the Duke with a ring from herown finger. He went away, no better than he came, when thecourtship had lasted some ten years altogether; and he died acouple of years afterwards, mourned by Elizabeth, who appears tohave been really fond of him. It is not much to her credit, for hewas a bad enough member of a bad family.

　　To return to the Catholics. There arose two orders of priests, whowere very busy in England, and who were much dreaded. These werethe Jesuits (who were everywhere in all sorts of disguises), andthe Seminary Priests. The people had a great horror of the first,because they were known to have taught that murder was lawful if itwere done with an object of which they approved; and they had agreat horror of the second, because they came to teach the oldreligion, and to be the successors of 'Queen Mary's priests,' asthose yet lingering in England were called, when they should dieout. The severest laws were made against them, and were mostunmercifully executed. Those who sheltered them in their housesoften suffered heavily for what was an act of humanity; and therack, that cruel torture which tore men's limbs asunder, wasconstantly kept going. What these unhappy men confessed, or whatwas ever confessed by any one under that agony, must always bereceived with great doubt, as it is certain that people havefrequently owned to the most absurd and impossible crimes to escapesuch dreadful suffering. But I cannot doubt it to have been provedby papers, that there were many plots, both among the Jesuits, andwith France, and with Scotland, and with Spain, for the destructionof Queen Elizabeth, for the placing of Mary on the throne, and forthe revival of the old religion.

　　If the English people were too ready to believe in plots, therewere, as I have said, good reasons for it. When the massacre ofSaint Bartholomew was yet fresh in their recollection, a greatProtestant Dutch hero, the Prince of Orange, was shot by anassassin, who confessed that he had been kept and trained for thepurpose in a college of Jesuits. The Dutch, in this surprise anddistress, offered to make Elizabeth their sovereign, but shedeclined the honour, and sent them a small army instead, under thecommand of the Earl of Leicester, who, although a capital Courtfavourite, was not much of a general. He did so little in Holland,that his campaign there would probably have been forgotten, but forits occasioning the death of one of the best writers, the bestknights, and the best gentlemen, of that or any age. This was SirPhilip Sidney, who was wounded by a musket ball in the thigh as hemounted a fresh horse, after having had his own killed under him.He had to ride back wounded, a long distance, and was very faintwith fatigue and loss of blood, when some water, for which he hadeagerly asked, was handed to him. But he was so good and gentleeven then, that seeing a poor badly wounded common soldier lying onthe ground, looking at the water with longing eyes, he said, 'Thynecessity is greater than mine,' and gave it up to him. Thistouching action of a noble heart is perhaps as well known as anyincident in history - is as famous far and wide as the blood-stained Tower of London, with its axe, and block, and murders outof number. So delightful is an act of true humanity, and so gladare mankind to remember it.

　　At home, intelligence of plots began to thicken every day. Isuppose the people never did live under such continual terrors asthose by which they were possessed now, of Catholic risings, andburnings, and poisonings, and I don't know what. Still, we mustalways remember that they lived near and close to awful realitiesof that kind, and that with their experience it was not difficultto believe in any enormity. The government had the same fear, anddid not take the best means of discovering the truth - for, besidestorturing the suspected, it employed paid spies, who will alwayslie for their own profit. It even made some of the conspiracies itbrought to light, by sending false letters to disaffected people,inviting them to join in pretended plots, which they too readilydid.

　　But, one great real plot was at length discovered, and it ended thecareer of Mary, Queen of Scots. A seminary priest named Ballard,and a Spanish soldier named Savage, set on and encouraged bycertain French priests, imparted a design to one Antony Babington -a gentleman of fortune in Derbyshire, who had been for some time asecret agent of Mary's - for murdering the Queen. Babington thenconfided the scheme to some other Catholic gentlemen who were hisfriends, and they joined in it heartily. They were vain, weak-headed young men, ridiculously confident, and preposterously proudof their plan; for they got a gimcrack painting made, of the sixchoice spirits who were to murder Elizabeth, with Babington in anattitude for the centre figure. Two of their number, however, oneof whom was a priest, kept Elizabeth's wisest minister, Sir FrancisWalsingham, acquainted with the whole project from the first. Theconspirators were completely deceived to the final point, whenBabington gave Savage, because he was shabby, a ring from hisfinger, and some money from his purse, wherewith to buy himself newclothes in which to kill the Queen. Walsingham, having then fullevidence against the whole band, and two letters of Mary's besides,resolved to seize them. Suspecting something wrong, they stole outof the city, one by one, and hid themselves in St. John's Wood, andother places which really were hiding places then; but they wereall taken, and all executed. When they were seized, a gentlemanwas sent from Court to inform Mary of the fact, and of her beinginvolved in the discovery. Her friends have complained that shewas kept in very hard and severe custody. It does not appear verylikely, for she was going out a hunting that very morning.

　　Queen Elizabeth had been warned long ago, by one in France who hadgood information of what was secretly doing, that in holding Maryalive, she held 'the wolf who would devour her.' The Bishop ofLondon had, more lately, given the Queen's favourite minister theadvice in writing, 'forthwith to cut off the Scottish Queen'shead.' The question now was, what to do with her? The Earl ofLeicester wrote a little note home from Holland, recommending thatshe should be quietly poisoned; that noble favourite havingaccustomed his mind, it is possible, to remedies of that nature.His black advice, however, was disregarded, and she was brought totrial at Fotheringay Castle in Northamptonshire, before a tribunalof forty, composed of both religions. There, and in the StarChamber at Westminster, the trial lasted a fortnight. She defendedherself with great ability, but could only deny the confessionsthat had been made by Babington and others; could only call her ownletters, produced against her by her own secretaries, forgeries;and, in short, could only deny everything. She was found guilty,and declared to have incurred the penalty of death. The Parliamentmet, approved the sentence, and prayed the Queen to have itexecuted. The Queen replied that she requested them to considerwhether no means could be found of saving Mary's life withoutendangering her own. The Parliament rejoined, No; and the citizensilluminated their houses and lighted bonfires, in token of theirjoy that all these plots and troubles were to be ended by the deathof the Queen of Scots.

　　She, feeling sure that her time was now come, wrote a letter to theQueen of England, making three entreaties; first, that she might beburied in France; secondly, that she might not be executed insecret, but before her servants and some others; thirdly, thatafter her death, her servants should not be molested, but should besuffered to go home with the legacies she left them. It was anaffecting letter, and Elizabeth shed tears over it, but sent noanswer. Then came a special ambassador from France, and anotherfrom Scotland, to intercede for Mary's life; and then the nationbegan to clamour, more and more, for her death.

　　What the real feelings or intentions of Elizabeth were, can neverbe known now; but I strongly suspect her of only wishing one thingmore than Mary's death, and that was to keep free of the blame ofit. On the first of February, one thousand five hundred andeighty-seven, Lord Burleigh having drawn out the warrant for theexecution, the Queen sent to the secretary Davison to bring it toher, that she might sign it: which she did. Next day, whenDavison told her it was sealed, she angrily asked him why suchhaste was necessary? Next day but one, she joked about it, andswore a little. Again, next day but one, she seemed to complainthat it was not yet done, but still she would not be plain withthose about her. So, on the seventh, the Earls of Kent andShrewsbury, with the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, came with thewarrant to Fotheringay, to tell the Queen of Scots to prepare fordeath.

　　When those messengers of ill omen were gone, Mary made a frugalsupper, drank to her servants, read over her will, went to bed,slept for some hours, and then arose and passed the remainder ofthe night saying prayers. In the morning she dressed herself inher best clothes; and, at eight o'clock when the sheriff came forher to her chapel, took leave of her servants who were thereassembled praying with her, and went down-stairs, carrying a Biblein one hand and a crucifix in the other. Two of her women and fourof her men were allowed to be present in the hall; where a lowscaffold, only two feet from the ground, was erected and coveredwith black; and where the executioner from the Tower, and hisassistant, stood, dressed in black velvet. The hall was full ofpeople. While the sentence was being read she sat upon a stool;and, when it was finished, she again denied her guilt, as she haddone before. The Earl of Kent and the Dean of Peterborough, intheir Protestant zeal, made some very unnecessary speeches to her;to which she replied that she died in the Catholic religion, andthey need not trouble themselves about that matter. When her headand neck were uncovered by the executioners, she said that she hadnot been used to be undressed by such hands, or before so muchcompany. Finally, one of her women fastened a cloth over her face,and she laid her neck upon the block, and repeated more than oncein Latin, 'Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit!' Some sayher head was struck off in two blows, some say in three. Howeverthat be, when it was held up, streaming with blood, the real hairbeneath the false hair she had long worn was seen to be as grey asthat of a woman of seventy, though she was at that time only in herforty-sixth year. All her beauty was gone.

　　But she was beautiful enough to her little dog, who cowered underher dress, frightened, when she went upon the scaffold, and who laydown beside her headless body when all her earthly sorrows wereover.

　　THIRD PART

　　On its being formally made known to Elizabeth that the sentence hadbeen executed on the Queen of Scots, she showed the utmost griefand rage, drove her favourites from her with violent indignation,and sent Davison to the Tower; from which place he was onlyreleased in the end by paying an immense fine which completelyruined him. Elizabeth not only over-acted her part in making thesepretences, but most basely reduced to poverty one of her faithfulservants for no other fault than obeying her commands.

　　James, King of Scotland, Mary's son, made a show likewise of beingvery angry on the occasion; but he was a pensioner of England tothe amount of five thousand pounds a year, and he had known verylittle of his mother, and he possibly regarded her as the murdererof his father, and he soon took it quietly.

　　Philip, King of Spain, however, threatened to do greater thingsthan ever had been done yet, to set up the Catholic religion andpunish Protestant England. Elizabeth, hearing that he and thePrince of Parma were making great preparations for this purpose, inorder to be beforehand with them sent out Admiral Drake (a famousnavigator, who had sailed about the world, and had already broughtgreat plunder from Spain) to the port of Cadiz, where he burnt ahundred vessels full of stores. This great loss obliged theSpaniards to put off the invasion for a year; but it was none theless formidable for that, amounting to one hundred and thirtyships, nineteen thousand soldiers, eight thousand sailors, twothousand slaves, and between two and three thousand great guns.England was not idle in making ready to resist this great force.All the men between sixteen years old and sixty, were trained anddrilled; the national fleet of ships (in number only thirty-four atfirst) was enlarged by public contributions and by private ships,fitted out by noblemen; the city of London, of its own accord,furnished double the number of ships and men that it was requiredto provide; and, if ever the national spirit was up in England, itwas up all through the country to resist the Spaniards. Some ofthe Queen's advisers were for seizing the principal EnglishCatholics, and putting them to death; but the Queen - who, to herhonour, used to say, that she would never believe any ill of hersubjects, which a parent would not believe of her own children -rejected the advice, and only confined a few of those who were themost suspected, in the fens in Lincolnshire. The great body ofCatholics deserved this confidence; for they behaved most loyally,nobly, and bravely.

　　So, with all England firing up like one strong, angry man, and withboth sides of the Thames fortified, and with the soldiers underarms, and with the sailors in their ships, the country waited forthe coming of the proud Spanish fleet, which was called TheInvincible Armada. The Queen herself, riding in armour on a whitehorse, and the Earl of Essex and the Earl of Leicester holding herbridal rein, made a brave speech to the troops at Tilbury Fortopposite Gravesend, which was received with such enthusiasm as isseldom known. Then came the Spanish Armada into the EnglishChannel, sailing along in the form of a half moon, of such greatsize that it was seven miles broad. But the English were quicklyupon it, and woe then to all the Spanish ships that dropped alittle out of the half moon, for the English took them instantly!And it soon appeared that the great Armada was anything butinvincible, for on a summer night, bold Drake sent eight blazingfire-ships right into the midst of it. In terrible consternationthe Spaniards tried to get out to sea, and so became dispersed; theEnglish pursued them at a great advantage; a storm came on, anddrove the Spaniards among rocks and shoals; and the swift end ofthe Invincible fleet was, that it lost thirty great ships and tenthousand men, and, defeated and disgraced, sailed home again.Being afraid to go by the English Channel, it sailed all roundScotland and Ireland; some of the ships getting cast away on thelatter coast in bad weather, the Irish, who were a kind of savages,plundered those vessels and killed their crews. So ended thisgreat attempt to invade and conquer England. And I think it willbe a long time before any other invincible fleet coming to Englandwith the same object, will fare much better than the SpanishArmada.

　　Though the Spanish king had had this bitter taste of Englishbravery, he was so little the wiser for it, as still to entertainhis old designs, and even to conceive the absurd idea of placinghis daughter on the English throne. But the Earl of Essex, SirWalter Raleigh, Sir Thomas Howard, and some other distinguishedleaders, put to sea from Plymouth, entered the port of Cadiz oncemore, obtained a complete victory over the shipping assembledthere, and got possession of the town. In obedience to the Queen'sexpress instructions, they behaved with great humanity; and theprincipal loss of the Spaniards was a vast sum of money which theyhad to pay for ransom. This was one of many gallant achievementson the sea, effected in this reign. Sir Walter Raleigh himself,after marrying a maid of honour and giving offence to the MaidenQueen thereby, had already sailed to South America in search ofgold.

　　The Earl of Leicester was now dead, and so was Sir ThomasWalsingham, whom Lord Burleigh was soon to follow. The principalfavourite was the Earl of Essex, a spirited and handsome man, afavourite with the people too as well as with the Queen, andpossessed of many admirable qualities. It was much debated atCourt whether there should be peace with Spain or no, and he wasvery urgent for war. He also tried hard to have his own way in theappointment of a deputy to govern in Ireland. One day, while thisquestion was in dispute, he hastily took offence, and turned hisback upon the Queen; as a gentle reminder of which impropriety, theQueen gave him a tremendous box on the ear, and told him to go tothe devil. He went home instead, and did not reappear at Court forhalf a year or so, when he and the Queen were reconciled, thoughnever (as some suppose) thoroughly.

　　From this time the fate of the Earl of Essex and that of the Queenseemed to be blended together. The Irish were still perpetuallyquarrelling and fighting among themselves, and he went over toIreland as Lord Lieutenant, to the great joy of his enemies (SirWalter Raleigh among the rest), who were glad to have so dangerousa rival far off. Not being by any means successful there, andknowing that his enemies would take advantage of that circumstanceto injure him with the Queen, he came home again, though againsther orders. The Queen being taken by surprise when he appearedbefore her, gave him her hand to kiss, and he was overjoyed -though it was not a very lovely hand by this time - but in thecourse of the same day she ordered him to confine himself to hisroom, and two or three days afterwards had him taken into custody.With the same sort of caprice - and as capricious an old woman shenow was, as ever wore a crown or a head either - she sent him brothfrom her own table on his falling ill from anxiety, and cried abouthim.

　　He was a man who could find comfort and occupation in his books,and he did so for a time; not the least happy time, I dare say, ofhis life. But it happened unfortunately for him, that he held amonopoly in sweet wines: which means that nobody could sell themwithout purchasing his permission. This right, which was only fora term, expiring, he applied to have it renewed. The Queenrefused, with the rather strong observation - but she did makestrong observations - that an unruly beast must be stinted in hisfood. Upon this, the angry Earl, who had been already deprived ofmany offices, thought himself in danger of complete ruin, andturned against the Queen, whom he called a vain old woman who hadgrown as crooked in her mind as she had in her figure. Theseuncomplimentary expressions the ladies of the Court immediatelysnapped up and carried to the Queen, whom they did not put in abetter tempter, you may believe. The same Court ladies, when theyhad beautiful dark hair of their own, used to wear false red hair,to be like the Queen. So they were not very high-spirited ladies,however high in rank.

　　The worst object of the Earl of Essex, and some friends of his whoused to meet at Lord Southampton's house, was to obtain possessionof the Queen, and oblige her by force to dismiss her ministers andchange her favourites. On Saturday the seventh of February, onethousand six hundred and one, the council suspecting this, summonedthe Earl to come before them. He, pretending to be ill, declined;it was then settled among his friends, that as the next day wouldbe Sunday, when many of the citizens usually assembled at the Crossby St. Paul's Cathedral, he should make one bold effort to inducethem to rise and follow him to the Palace.

　　So, on the Sunday morning, he and a small body of adherents startedout of his house - Essex House by the Strand, with steps to theriver - having first shut up in it, as prisoners, some members ofthe council who came to examine him - and hurried into the Citywith the Earl at their head crying out 'For the Queen! For theQueen! A plot is laid for my life!' No one heeded them, however,and when they came to St. Paul's there were no citizens there. Inthe meantime the prisoners at Essex House had been released by oneof the Earl's own friends; he had been promptly proclaimed atraitor in the City itself; and the streets were barricaded withcarts and guarded by soldiers. The Earl got back to his house bywater, with difficulty, and after an attempt to defend his houseagainst the troops and cannon by which it was soon surrounded, gavehimself up that night. He was brought to trial on the nineteenth,and found guilty; on the twenty-fifth, he was executed on TowerHill, where he died, at thirty-four years old, both courageouslyand penitently. His step-father suffered with him. His enemy, SirWalter Raleigh, stood near the scaffold all the time - but not sonear it as we shall see him stand, before we finish his history.

　　In this case, as in the cases of the Duke of Norfolk and Mary Queenof Scots, the Queen had commanded, and countermanded, and againcommanded, the execution. It is probable that the death of heryoung and gallant favourite in the prime of his good qualities, wasnever off her mind afterwards, but she held out, the same vain,obstinate and capricious woman, for another year. Then she dancedbefore her Court on a state occasion - and cut, I should think, amighty ridiculous figure, doing so in an immense ruff, stomacherand wig, at seventy years old. For another year still, she heldout, but, without any more dancing, and as a moody, sorrowful,broken creature. At last, on the tenth of March, one thousand sixhundred and three, having been ill of a very bad cold, and madeworse by the death of the Countess of Nottingham who was herintimate friend, she fell into a stupor and was supposed to bedead. She recovered her consciousness, however, and then nothingwould induce her to go to bed; for she said that she knew that ifshe did, she should never get up again. There she lay for tendays, on cushions on the floor, without any food, until the LordAdmiral got her into bed at last, partly by persuasions and partlyby main force. When they asked her who should succeed her, shereplied that her seat had been the seat of Kings, and that shewould have for her successor, 'No rascal's son, but a King's.'Upon this, the lords present stared at one another, and took theliberty of asking whom she meant; to which she replied, 'Whomshould I mean, but our cousin of Scotland!' This was on thetwenty-third of March. They asked her once again that day, aftershe was speechless, whether she was still in the same mind? Shestruggled up in bed, and joined her hands over her head in the formof a crown, as the only reply she could make. At three o'clocknext morning, she very quietly died, in the forty-fifth year of herreign.

　　That reign had been a glorious one, and is made for ever memorableby the distinguished men who flourished in it. Apart from thegreat voyagers, statesmen, and scholars, whom it produced, thenames of Bacon, Spenser, and Shakespeare, will always be rememberedwith pride and veneration by the civilised world, and will alwaysimpart (though with no great reason, perhaps) some portion of theirlustre to the name of Elizabeth herself. It was a great reign fordiscovery, for commerce, and for English enterprise and spirit ingeneral. It was a great reign for the Protestant religion and forthe Reformation which made England free. The Queen was verypopular, and in her progresses, or journeys about her dominions,was everywhere received with the liveliest joy. I think the truthis, that she was not half so good as she has been made out, and nothalf so bad as she has been made out. She had her fine qualities,but she was coarse, capricious, and treacherous, and had all thefaults of an excessively vain young woman long after she was an oldone. On the whole, she had a great deal too much of her father inher, to please me.

　　Many improvements and luxuries were introduced in the course ofthese five-and-forty years in the general manner of living; butcock-fighting, bull-baiting, and bear-baiting, were still thenational amusements; and a coach was so rarely seen, and was suchan ugly and cumbersome affair when it was seen, that even the Queenherself, on many high occasions, rode on horseback on a pillionbehind the Lord Chancellor.