never embarked upon it except under compulsion. All her wars were
virtually defensive, to maintain the honor, safety, and dignity of the
nation. She did not even seek to recover Calais, which the French had
held for three hundred years; although she took Havre, to gain a
temporary foothold for her troops. She did not strive for military
_éclat_ or foreign possessions in Europe, feeling that the strength of
England, like the ancient Jewish commonwealth, was in the cultivation of
the peaceful virtues; and yet she made war when it became imperative.
She gave free audience to her subjects, paid attention to all petitions,
and was indefatigable in business. She made her own glory identical with
the prosperity of the realm; and if she did not rule _by_ the people,
she ruled _for_ the people, as enlightened and patriotic monarchs ever
have ruled. It is indisputable that the whole nation loved her and
honored her to the last, even when disappointments had saddened her and
the intoxicating delusions of life had been dispelled. She bestowed
honors and benefits with frankness and cordiality. She ever sought to
base her authority on the affections of the people,--the only support
even of absolute thrones. She was ever ready with a witticism, a smile,
and a pleasant word. Though she gave vent to peevishness and
irritability when crossed, and even would swear before her ministers and
courtiers in private, yet in public she disguised her resentments, and
always appeared dignified and graceful; so that the people, when they
saw her majestic manners, or heard her loving speeches, or beheld her
mounted at the head of armies or shining unrivalled in grand festivals,
or listened to her learning on public occasions,--such as when she
extemporized Latin orations at Oxford,--were filled with pride and
admiration, and were ready to expose their lives in her service.
The characteristic excellence of Elizabeth's reign, as it seems to me,
was good government. She had extraordinary executive ability, directed
to all matters of public interest. Her government was not marked by
great and brilliant achievements, but by perpetual vigilance, humanity,
economy, and liberal policy. There were no destructive and wasting
wars, no passion for military glory, no successions of court follies, no
extravagance in palace-building, no egotistical aims and pleasures such
as marked the reign of Louis XIV., which cut the sinews of national
strength, impoverished the nobility, disheartened the people, and sowed
the seeds of future revolution. That modern Nebuchadnezzar spent on one
palace £40,000,000; while Elizabeth spent on all her palaces,
processions, journeys, carriages, servants, and dresses £65,000 a year.
She was indeed fond of visiting her subjects, and perhaps subjected her
nobles to a burdensome hospitality. But the Earl of Leicester could well
afford three hundred and sixty-five hogsheads of beer when he
entertained the Queen at Kenilworth, since he was rich enough to fortify
his castle with ten thousand men; nor was it difficult for the Earl of
Derby to feast the royal party, when his domestic servants numbered two
hundred and forty. She may have exacted presents on her birthday; but
the courtiers who gave her laces and ruffs and jewelry received
monopolies in return.
The most common charge against Elizabeth as a sovereign is, that she was
arbitrary and tyrannical; nor can she be wholly exculpated from this
charge. Her reign was despotic, so far as the Constitution would allow;
but it was a despotism according to the laws. Under her reign the people
had as much liberty as at any preceding period of English history. She
did not encroach on the Constitution. The Constitution and the
precedents of the past gave her the Star Chamber, and the High
Commission Court, and the disposal of monopolies, and the absolute
command of the military and naval forces; but these great prerogatives
she did not abuse. In her direst necessities she never went beyond the
laws, and seldom beyond the wishes of the people.
It is expecting too much of sovereigns to abdicate their own powers
except upon compulsion; and still more, to increase the political power
of the people. The most illustrious sovereigns have never parted
willingly with their own prerogatives. Did the Antonines, or Theodosius,
or Charlemagne, or 'Frederic II.? The Emperor of Russia may emancipate
serfs from a dictate of humanity, but he did not give them political
power, for fear that it might be turned against the throne. The
sovereign people of America may give political equality to their old
slaves, and invite them to share in the legislation of great interests:
it is in accordance with that theory of abstract rights which Rousseau,
the creator of the French Revolution, propounded,--which gospel of
rights was accepted by Jefferson and Franklin, The monarchs of the world
have their own opinions about the political rights of those whom they
deem ignorant or inexperienced. Instead of proceeding to enlarge the
bounds of popular liberties, they prefer to fall back on established
duties. Elizabeth had this preference; but she did not attempt to take
away what liberties the people already had. In encouraging the
principles of the Reformation, she became their protector against
Catholic priests and feudal nobles.
It is not quite just to stigmatize the government of Elizabeth as a
despotism, A despotism is a régime supported by military force, based on
an army, with power to tax the people without their consent,--like the
old rule of the Caesars, like that of Louis XIV. and Peter the Great,
and even of Napoleon. Now, Elizabeth never had a standing army of any
size. When the country was threatened by Spain, she threw herself into
the arms of the militia,--upon the patriotism and generosity of her
people. Nor could she tax the people without the consent of
Parliament,--which by a fiction was supposed to represent the people,
while in reality it only represented the wealthy classes. Parliament
possessed the power to cripple her, and was far less generous to her
than it was to Queen Victoria. She was headed off both by the nobles and
by the representatives of the wealthy, powerful, and aristocratic
Commons. She had great prerogatives and great private wealth, palaces,
parks, and arbitrary courts; but she could not go against the laws of
the realm without endangering her throne,--which she was wise enough
and strong enough to keep, in spite of all her enemies both at home and
abroad. Had she been a man, she might have turned out a tyrant and a
usurper: she might have increased the royal prerogatives, like
Richelieu; she might have made wars, like Louis XIV.; she might have
ground down the people, like her successor James. But she understood the
limits of her power, and did not seek to go beyond: thereby proving
herself as wise as she was mighty.
By most historical writers Elizabeth is severely censured for the
execution of Mary Queen of Scots, and I think with justice. I am not
making a special plea in favor of Elizabeth,--hiding her defects and
exaggerating her virtues,--but simply seeking to present her character
and deeds according to the verdict of enlightened ages. It was a cruel
and repulsive act to take away the life of a relative and a woman and a
queen, under any pretence whatever, unless the sparing of her life would
endanger the security of the sovereign and the peace of the realm. Mary
was the granddaughter of Margaret Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, and was
the lawful successor of Mary, the eldest daughter of Henry VIII. On the
principle of legitimacy, she had a title to the throne superior to
Elizabeth herself, and the succession of princes has ever been
determined by this. But Mary was a Catholic, to say nothing of her
levities or crimes, and had been excluded by the nation for that very
reason. If there was injustice done to her, it was in not allowing her
claim to succeed Mary. That she felt that Elizabeth was a usurper, and
that the English throne belonged by right to her, I do not doubt. It was
natural that she should seek to regain her rights. If she should survive
Elizabeth, her claims as the rightful successor could not be well set
aside. That in view of these facts Elizabeth was jealous of Mary I do
not doubt; and that this jealousy was one great cause of her hostility
is probable.
The execution of Mary Stuart because she was a Catholic, or because she
excited fear or jealousy, is utterly indefensible. All that the English
nation had a right to do was to set her succession aside because she was
a Catholic, and would undo the work of the Reformation. She had a right
to her religion; and the nation also had a right to prevent its religion
from being overturned or jeopardized. I do not believe, however, that
Mary's life endangered either the throne or the religion of England, so
long as she was merely Queen of Scotland; hence I look upon her
captivity as cruel, and her death as a crime. She was destroyed as the
male children of the Hebrews were destroyed by Pharaoh, as a sultan
murders his nephews,--from fear; from a cold and cruel state policy,
against all the higher laws of morality.
The crime of Elizabeth doubtless has palliations. She was urged by her
ministers and by the Protestant part of the nation to commit this great
wrong, on the plea of necessity, to secure the throne against a Catholic
successor, and the nation from embarrassments, plots, and rebellions. It
is an undoubted fact that Mary, even after her imprisonment in England,
was engaged in perpetual intrigues; that she was leagued with Jesuits
and hostile powers, and kept Elizabeth in continual irritation and the
nation in constant alarm. And it is probable that had she succeeded
Elizabeth, she would have destroyed all that was dear to the English
heart,--that glorious Reformation, effected by so many labors and
sacrifices. Therefore she was immolated to the spirit of the times, for
reasons of expediency and apparent state necessity. That she conspired
against the government of Elizabeth, and possibly against her life, was
generally supposed; that she was a bitter enemy cannot be questioned.
How far Elizabeth can be exculpated on the principle of self-defence
cannot well be ascertained. Scotch historians do not generally accept
the reputed facts of Mary's guilt. But if she sought the life of
Elizabeth, and was likely to attain so bloody an end,--as was generally
feared,--then Elizabeth has great excuses for having sanctioned the
death of her rival.
So the beautiful and interesting Mary dies a martyr to her cause,--a
victim of royal and national jealousy, paying the penalty for alleged
crimes against the state and throne. Had Elizabeth herself, during the
life of her sister Mary, been guilty of half they proved against the
Queen of Scots, she would have been most summarily executed. But
Elizabeth was wise and prudent, and waited for her time. Mary Stuart was
imprudent and rash. Her character, in spite of her fascinations and
accomplishments, was full of follies, infidelities, and duplicities. She
is supposed to have been an adulteress and a murderess. She was
unfortunate in her administration of Scotland. She was ruled by wicked
favorites and foreign influence. She was not patriotic, or lofty, or
earnest. She did what she could to root out Protestantism in Scotland,
and kept her own realm in constant trouble. She had winning manners and
graceful accomplishments; she was doubtless an intellectual woman; she
had courage, presence of mind, tact, intelligence; she could ride and
dance well: but with these accomplishments she had qualities which made
her dangerous and odious. If she had not been executed, she would have
been execrated. But her sufferings and unfortunate death appeal to the
heart of the world, and I would not fight against popular affections and
sympathies. Though she committed great crimes and follies, and was
supposed to be dangerous to the religion and liberties of England, she
died a martyr,--as Charles I. died, and Louis XVI.,--the victim of great
necessities and great animosities.
The execution of Essex is another of the popular rather than serious
charges against Elizabeth. He had been her favorite; he was a generous,
gifted, and accomplished man,--therefore, it is argued, he ought to have
been spared. But he was caught with arms in his hands. He was a traitor
to the throne which enriched him and the nation which flattered him. He
was at the head of foolish rebellion, and therefore he died,--died like
Montmorency in the reign of Henry IV., like Bassompierre, like Norfolk
and Northumberland, because he had committed high-treason and defied the
laws. Why should Elizabeth spare such a culprit? No former friendship,
no chivalrous qualities, no array of past services, ever can offset the
crime of treason and rebellion, especially in unsettled times; and
Elizabeth would have been worse than weak had she spared so great a
criminal, both according to the laws and precedents of England and the
verdict of enlightened civilization. We may compassionate the fate of
Essex; but he was rash, giddy, and irritated, and we feel that he
deserved his punishment.
The other charges brought against Elizabeth pertain to her as a woman
rather than a sovereign. They say that she was artful, dissembling,
parsimonious, jealous, haughty, and masculine. Very likely,--and what
then? Who claimed that she was perfect, any more than other great
sovereigns whom on the whole we praise? These faults, too, may have been
the result of her circumstances, rather than native traits of character.
Surrounded with spies and enemies, she was obliged to hide her thoughts
and her plans. Irritated by treason and rebellions, she may have given
vent to unseemly anger. Flattered beyond all example, she may have been
vain and ostentatious. Possessed of great powers, she may have been
arbitrary. Crippled by Parliament, she may have nursed her resources.
Compelled to give to everything, she may have been parsimonious.
Slandered by her enemies, she may have been resentful. Annoyed by
wrangling sects, she may have too strenuously paraded her high-church
principles.
But all these things we lose sight of in the undoubted virtues,
abilities, and services of this great Queen. Historians have other work
than to pick out spots on the sun. The dark spot, if there is one upon
Elizabeth's character, was her coquetry in private life. It is
impossible to tell whether or not she exceeded the bounds of womanly
virtue. She was probably slandered and vilified by treacherous,
gossiping ambassadors, who were foes to her person and her kingdom, and
who made as ugly reports of her as possible to their royal masters. I am
sorry that these malicious accusations have been raked out of the ashes
of the past by modern historians, whose literary fame rests on bringing
to light what is _new_ rather than what is _true_. The character of a
woman and a queen so admired and honored in her day, should be sacred
from the stings of sensational writers who poison their darts from the
archives of bitter foreign enemies.
The gallant men of genius whom Elizabeth admired and honored--as a
bright and intellectual woman naturally would, especially when deprived
of the felicities of wedded life--never presumed, I have charity to
believe, beyond an undignified partiality and an admiring friendship.
When Essex stood highest in her favor, she was nearly seventy years of
age. There are no undoubted facts which criminate her,--nothing but
gossip and the malice of foreign spies. What a contrast her private life
was to that of her mother Anne Boleyn, or to that of Mary, Queen of
Scots, or even to that of the great Catherine of Russia! She had,
indeed, great foibles and weaknesses. She was inordinately fond of
dress; she was sensitive to her own good looks; she was jealous of
pretty women; she was vain, and susceptible to flattery; she was
irritable when crossed; she gave way to sallies of petulance and anger;
she occasionally used language unbecoming her station and authority; she
could dissimulate and hide her thoughts: but her nature was not
hypocritical, or false, or mean. She was just, honest, and
straightforward in her ordinary dealings; she was patriotic,
enlightened, and magnanimous; she loved learning and learned men; she
had at heart the best interests of her subjects; she was true to her
cause. Surely these great virtues, which it is universally admitted she
possessed, should more than balance her defects and weaknesses. See how
tender-hearted she was when required to sign death-warrants, and what
grief she manifested when Essex proved unworthy of her friendship! See
her love of children, her readiness of sympathy, her fondness for
society,--all feminine qualities in a woman who is stigmatized as
masculine, as she perhaps was in her mental structure, in her habits of
command, and aptitude for business: a strong-minded woman at the worst,
yet such a woman as was needed on a throne, especially in stormy times
and in a rude state of society.
And when we pass from her private character to her public services, by
which the great are judged, how exalted her claims to the world's
regard! Where do we find a greater or a better queen? Contrast her with
other female sovereigns,--with Isabella, who with all her virtues
favored the Inquisition; with her sister Mary, who kindled the fires of
Smithfield; with Catherine de Médicis, who sounded the tocsin of St.
Bartholomew; with Mary of Scotland, who was a partner in the murder of
her husband; with Anne of Austria, who ruled through Italian favorites;
with Christiana of Sweden, who scandalized Europe by her indecent
eccentricities; with Anne of Great Britain, ruled by the Duchess of
Marlborough. There are only two great sovereigns with whom she can be
compared,--Catherine II. of Russia, and Maria Theresa of Germany,
illustrious, like Elizabeth, for courage and ability. But Catherine was
the slave of infamous passions, and Maria Theresa was a party to the
partition of Poland. Compared with these even, the English queen appears
immeasurably superior; they may have wielded more power, but their moral
influence was less. It is not the greatness of a country which gives
greatness to its exalted characters. Washington ruled our empire in its
infancy; and Buchanan, with all its majestic resources,--yet who is
dearest to the heart of the world? No countries ever produced greater
benefactors than Palestine and Greece, when their limits were scarcely
equal to one of our States. The fame of Burleigh burns brighter than
that of the most powerful of modern statesmen. The names of Alexander
Hamilton and Daniel Webster may outshine the glories of any statesmen
who shall arise in this great country for a hundred years to come.
Elizabeth ruled a little island; but her memory and deeds are as
immortal as the fame of Pericles or Marcus Aurelius.
And the fame of England's great queen rests on the influence which
radiated from her character, as well as upon the power she wielded with
so much wisdom and ability. Influence is greater than power in the lapse
of ages. Politicians may wield power for a time; but the great
statesmen, like Burke and Canning, live in their ideas. Warriors and
kings, and ministers of kings, have power; but poets and philosophers
have influence, for their ideas go coursing round the world until they
have changed governments and institutions for better or for worse,--like
those of Paul, of Socrates, of Augustine, of Dante, of Shakspeare, of
Bacon, yea, of Rousseau. Some few favored rulers and leaders of men have
had both power and influence, like Moses, Alfred, and Washington; and
Elizabeth belongs to this class. Her influence was for good, and it
permeated English life and society, like that of Victoria, whose power
was small.
As a queen, however, more than a woman, Elizabeth is one of the great
names of history. I have some respect for the critical verdict of
Francis Bacon, the greatest man of his age,--if we except
Shakspeare,--and one of the greatest men in the history of all nations.
What does he say? He knew her well, perhaps as well as any modern
historian. He says:--
"She was a princess, that, if Plutarch were now alive to write by
parables, it would puzzle him to find her equal among women. She was
endowed with learning most singular and rare; and as for her government,
I do affirm that England never had forty-five years of better times, and
this, not through the calmness of the season, but the wisdom of her
regimes. When we consider the establishment of religion, and the
constant peace of the country, the good administration of justice, the
flourishing state of learning, the increase of wealth, and the general
prosperity, amid differences in religion, the troubles of neighboring
nations, the ambition of Spain, and the opposition of Home, I could not
have chosen a more remarkable combination of learning in the prince with
felicity of the people."
I can add nothing to this comprehensive verdict: it covers the whole
ground. So that for virtues and abilities, in spite of all defects, I
challenge attention to this virgin queen. I love to dwell on her
courage, her fortitude, her prudence, her wisdom, her patriotism, her
magnanimity, her executive ability, and, more, on the exalted services
she rendered to her country and to civilization. These invest her name
with a halo of glory which shall blaze through all the ages, even as the
great men who surrounded her throne have made her name illustrious.
The Elizabethan era is justly regarded as the brightest in English
history; not for the number of its great men, or the magnificence of its
great enterprises, or the triumphs of its great discoveries and
inventions, but because there were then born the great ideas which
constitute the strength and beauty of our proud civilization, and
because then the grandest questions which pertain to religion,
government, literature, and social life were first agitated, with the
freshness and earnestness of a revolutionary age. The men of that period
were a constellation of original thinkers. We still point with
admiration to the political wisdom of Cecil, to the sagacity of
Walsingham, to the varied accomplishments of Raleigh, to the chivalrous
graces of Sidney, to the bravery of Hawkins and Nottingham, to the bold
enterprises of Drake and Frobisher, to the mercantile integrity and
financial skill of Gresham, to the comprehensive intellect of Parker, to
the scholarship of Ascham, to the eloquence of Jewel, to the profundity
of Hooker, to the vast attainments and original genius of Bacon, to the
rich fancy of Spenser, to the almost inspired insight of Shakspeare,
towering above all the poets of ancient and of modern times, as fresh
to-day as he was three hundred years ago, the greatest miracle of
intellect that perhaps has ever adorned the world. By all these
illustrious men Queen Elizabeth was honored and beloved. All received no
small share of their renown from her glorious appreciation; all were
proud to revolve around her as a central sun, giving life and growth to
every great enterprise in her day, and shedding a light which shall
gladden unborn generations.
It is something that a woman has earned such a fame, and in a sphere
which has been supposed to belong to man alone. And if men shall here
and there be found to decry her greatness, let no woman be found who
shall seek to dethrone her from her lofty pedestal; for in so doing she
unwittingly becomes a detractor from that womanly greatness in which we
should all rejoice, and which thus far has so seldom been seen in
exalted stations. For my part, the more I study history the more I
reverence this great sovereign; and I am proud that such a woman has
lived and reigned and died in honor.
AUTHORITIES.