[Sidenote: Elizabeth, 1558-1603.]
Elizabeth, daughter of Henry and a disgraced and decapitated Queen,
wore the crown of England. If heredity had been as much talked of then
as now, England might have feared the child of a faithless wife, and a
remorseless, bloodthirsty King. But while Mary, daughter of Katharine,
the most pious and best of mothers, had left only a great blood-spot
upon the page of History, Elizabeth's reign was to be the most wise,
prosperous and great, the Kingdom had ever known. In her complex
character there was the imperiousness, audacity and unscrupulousness of
her father, the voluptuous pleasure-loving nature of her mother, and
mingled with both, qualities which came from neither. She was a tyrant,
held in check by a singular caution, with an instinctive perception of
the presence of danger, to which her purposes always instantly bent.
The authority vested in her was as absolute as her father's, but while
her imperious temper sacrificed individuals without mercy, she ardently
desired the welfare of her Kingdom, which she ruled with extraordinary
moderation and a political sagacity almost without parallel, softening,
but not abandoning, one of her father's usurpations.
She was a Protestant without any enthusiasm for the religion she
intended to restore in England, and prayed to the Virgin in her own
private Chapel, while she was undoing the work of her Catholic sister
Mary. The obsequious apologies to the Pope were withdrawn, but the
Reformation she was going to espouse, was not the fiery one being
fought for in Germany and France. It was mild, moderate, and like her
father's, more political than religious. The point she made was that
there must be religious uniformity, and conformity to the Established
Church of England--with its new "Articles," which as she often said,
"left _opinion_ free."
It was in fact a softened reproduction of her terrible father's
attitude. The Church, (called an "Episcopacy," on account of the
jurisdiction of its Bishops,) was Protestant in doctrine, with gentle
leaning toward Catholicism in externals, held still firmly by the "Act
of Supremacy" in the controlling hand of the Sovereign. Above all else
desiring peace and prosperity for England, the keynote of Elizabeth's
policy in Church and in State was conciliation and compromise. So the
Church of England was to a great extent a compromise, retaining as much
as the people would bear of external form and ritual, for the sake of
reconciling Catholic England.
The large element to whom this was offensive was reinforced by
returning refugees who brought with them the stern doctrines of Calvin;
and they finally separated themselves altogether from a Church in which
so much of Papacy still lingered, to establish one upon simpler and
purer foundation; hence they were called "Puritans," and
"Nonconformists," and were persecuted for violation of the "Act of
Supremacy."
The masculine side of Elizabeth's character was fully balanced by her
feminine foibles. Her vanity was inordinate. Her love of adulation and
passion for display, her caprice, duplicity, and her reckless love-
affairs, form a strange background for the calm, determined, masterly
statesmanship under which her Kingdom expanded.
The subject of her marriage was a momentous one. There were plenty of
aspirants for the honor. Her brother-in-law Philip, since the
abdication of Charles V., his father, was a mighty King, ruler over
Spain and the Netherlands, and was at the head of Catholic Europe. He
saw in this vain, silly young Queen of England an easy prey. By
marrying her he could bring England back to the fold, as he had done
with her sister Mary, and the Catholic cause would be invincible.
Elizabeth was a coquette, without the personal charm supposed to belong
to that dangerous part of humanity. She toyed with an offer of marriage
as does a cat with a mouse. She had never intended to marry Philip, but
she kept him waiting so long for her decision, and so exasperated him
with her caprice, that he exclaimed at last, "That girl has ten
thousand devils in her." He little thought, that beneath that surface
of folly there was a nature hard as steel, and a calm, clear, cool
intelligence, for which his own would be no match, and which would one
day hold in check the diplomacy of the "Escurial" and outwit that of
Europe. She adored the culture brought by the "new learning;" delighted
in the society of Sir Philip Sidney, who reflected all that was best in
England of that day; talked of poetry with Spenser; discussed
philosophy with Bruno; read Greek tragedies and Latin orations in the
original; could converse in French and Italian, and was besides
proficient in another language,--the language of the fishwife,--which
she used with startling effect with her lords and ministers when her
temper was aroused, and swore like a trooper if occasion required.
But whatever else she was doing she never ceased to study the new
England she was ruling. She felt, though did not understand, the
expansion which was going on in the spirit of the people; but
instinctively realized the necessity for changes and modifications in
her Government, when the temper of the nation seemed to require it.
It was enormous common-sense and tact which converted Elizabeth into a
liberal Sovereign. Her instincts were despotic. When she bowed
instantly to the will of the Commons, almost apologizing for seeming to
resist it, it was not because she sympathized with liberal sentiments,
but because of her profound political instincts, which taught her the
danger of alienating that class upon which the greatness of her Kingdom
rested. She realized the truth forgotten by some of her successors,
that the Sovereign and the middle class _must be friends_. She
might resist and insult her lords and ministers, send great Earls and
favorites ruthlessly to the block, but no slightest cloud must come
between her and her "dear Commons" and people. This it was which made
Spenser's adulation in the "Faerie Queen" but an expression of the
intense loyalty of her meanest subject.
Perhaps it was because she remembered that the whole fabric of the
Church rested upon Parliamentary enactment, and that she herself was
Queen of England by Parliamentary sanction, that she viewed so
complacently the growing power of that body in dealing more and more
with matters supposed to belong exclusively to the Crown, as for
instance in the struggle made by the Commons to suppress monopolies in
trade, granted by royal prerogative. At the first she angrily resisted
the measure. But finding the strength of the popular sentiment, she
gracefully retreated, declaring, with royal scorn for truth, that "she
had not before known of the existence of such an evil."
In fact, lying, in her independent code of morals, was a virtue, and
one to which she owed some of her most brilliant triumphs in diplomacy.
And when the bald, unmitigated lie was at last found out, she felt not
the slightest shame, but only amusement at the simplicity of those who
had believed she was speaking the truth.
[Sidenote: Massacre of St. Bartholomew's, 1572. East India Company
Chartered, 1606. Colonization of Virginia.]
Her natural instincts, her thrift, and her love of peace inclined her
to keep aloof from the struggle going on in Europe between Protestants
and Catholics. But while the news of St. Bartholomew's Eve seemed to
give her no thrill of horror, she still sent armies and money to aid
the Huguenots in France, and to stem the persecutions of Philip in the
Netherlands, and committed England fully to a cause for which she felt
no enthusiasm. She encouraged every branch of industry, commerce,
trade, fostered everything which would lead to prosperity. Listened to
Raleigh's plans for colonization in America, permitting the New Colony
to be called "Virginia" in her honor (the Virgin Queen). She chartered
the "Merchant Company," intended to absorb the new trade with the
Indies (1600), and which has expanded into a British Empire in India.
But amid all this triumph, a sad and solitary woman sat on the throne
of England. The only relation she had in the world was her cousin, Mary
Stuart, who was plotting to undermine and supplant her.
The question of Elizabeth's legitimacy was an ever recurring one, and
afforded a rallying point for malcontents, who asserted that her
mother's marriage with Henry VIII. was invalidated by the refusal of
the Pope to sanction the divorce. Mary Stuart, who stood next to
Elizabeth in the succession, formed a centre from which a network of
intrigue and conspiracy was always menacing the Queen's peace, if not
her life, and her crown.
Scotland, since the extinction of the line of Bruce, had been ruled by
the Stuart Kings. Torn by internal feuds between her clans, and by the
incessant struggle against English encroachments, she had drawn into
close friendship with France, which country used her for its own ends,
in harassing England, so that the Scottish border was always a point of
danger in every quarrel between French and English Kings.
[Sidenote: Flodden Field 1513. Birth of Mary Stuart 1542.]
In 1502 Henry VIII. had bestowed the hand of his sister Margaret upon
James IV. of Scotland, and it seemed as if a peaceful union was at last
secured with his Northern neighbor. But in the war with France which
soon followed, James, the Scottish King, turned to his old ally. He was
killed at "Flodden Field," after suffering a crushing defeat. His
successor, James V., had maried Mary Guise. Her family was the head and
front of the ultra Catholic party in France, and her counsels probably
influenced Edward to a continual hostility to the Protestant Henry,
even though he was his uncle. The death of James in consequence of his
defeat at "Solway Moss" occurred immediately after the birth of his
daughter, Mary Stuart (1542).
This unhappy child at once became the centre of intriguing designs;
Henry VIII. wishing to betroth the little Queen to his son, afterwards
Edward VI., and thus forever unite the rival kingdoms. But the Guises
made no compromises with Protestants! Mary Guise, who was now Regent of
the realm, had no desire for a closer union with Protestant England,
and very much desired a nearer alliance with her own France. Mary
Stuart was betrothed to the Dauphin, son of Francis I., and was sent to
the French Court to be prepared by Catharine de Medici (the Italian
daughter-in-law of Francis I.) for her future exalted position.
[Sidenote: Mary Stuart Returns to England.]
In 1561, Mary returned to England. Her boy-husband had died after a
reign of two years. She was nineteen years old, had wonderful beauty,
rare intelligence, and power to charm like a siren. Her short life had
been spent in the most corrupt and profligate of Courts, under the
combined influence of Catharine de Medici, the worst woman in Europe,--
and her two uncles of the House of Guise, who were little better.
Political intrigues, plottings and crimes were in the very air she
breathed from infancy. But she was an ardent and devout Catholic, and
as such became the centre and the hope of what still remained of
Catholic England.
Elizabeth would have bartered half her possessions for the one
possession of beauty. That she was jealous of her fascinating rival
there is little doubt, but that she was exasperated at her pretensions
and at the audacious plottings against her life and throne is not
strange. In fact we wonder that, with her imperious temper, she so long
hesitated to strike the fatal blow.
Whether Mary committed the dark crimes attributed to her or not, we do
not know. But we do know, that after the murder of her wretched
husband, Lord Darnley, (her cousin, Henry Stuart), she quickly married
the man to whom the deed was directly traced. Her marriage with
Bothwell was her undoing. Scotland was so indignant at the act, that
she took refuge in England, only to fall into Elizabeth's hands.
Mary Stuart had once audaciously said, "the reason her cousin did not
marry was because she would not lose the power of compelling men to
make love to her." Perhaps the memory of this jest made it easier to
sign the fatal paper in 1587.
[Sidenote: Mary Stuart's Death, 1587.]
When we read of Mary's irresistible charm, of her audacity, her
cunning, her genius for diplomacy and statecraft, far exceeding
Elizabeth's--when we read of all this and think of the blood of the
Guises in her veins, and the precepts of Catharine de Medici in her
heart, we realize what her usurpation would have meant for England, and
feel that she was a menace to the State, and justly incurred her fate.
Then again, when we hear of her gentle patience in her long captivity,
her prayers and piety, and her sublime courage when she walked through
the Hall at Fotheringay Castle, and laid her beautiful head on the
block as on a pillow, we are melted to pity, and almost revolted at the
act. It is difficult to be just, with such a lovely criminal, unless
one is made of such stern stuff as was John Knox.
[Sidenote: James VI., King of Scotland. Defeat of Spanish Armada, 1597.]
The son of Mary by Henry Stuart (Lord Darnley) was James VI. of
Scotland. With his mother's death, all pretensions to the English
throne were forever at rest. But Philip of Spain thought the time
propitious for his own ambitious purposes, and sent an Armada (fleet)
which approached the Coast in the form of a great Crescent, one mile
across. The little English "seadogs," not much larger than small
pleasure yachts, were led by Sir Francis Drake. They worried the
ponderous Spanish ships, and then, sending burning boats in amongst
them, soon spoiled the pretty crescent. The fleet scattered along the
Northern Coast, where it was overtaken by a frightful storm, and the
winds and the waves completed the victory, almost annihilating the
entire "Armada."
[Sidenote: Francis Bacon.]
England was great and glorious. The revolution, religious, social and
political, had ploughed and harrowed the surface which had been
fertilized with the "New Learning," and the harvest was rich. While all
Europe was devastated by religious wars there arose in Protestant
England such an era of peace and prosperity, with all the conditions of
living so improved that the dreams of Sir Thomas More's "Utopia" seemed
almost realized. The new culture was everywhere. England was garlanded
with poetry, and lighted by genius, such as the world has not seen
since, and may never see again. The name of Francis Bacon was
sufficient to adorn an age, and that of Shakespeare alone, enough to
illumine a century. Elizabeth did not create the glory of the
"Elizabethan Age," but she did create the peace and social order from
which it sprang.
If this Queen ever loved any one it was the Earl of Leicester, the man
who sent his lovely wife, Amy Robsart, to a cruel death in the delusive
hope of marrying a Queen. We are unwilling to harbor the suspicion that
she was accessory to this deed; and yet we cannot forget that she was
the daughter of Henry VIII.!--and sometimes wonder if the memory of a
crime as black as Mary's haunted her sad old age, when sated with
pleasures and triumphs, lovers no more whispering adulation in her
ears, and mirrors banished from her presence, she silently waited for
the end.
She died in the year 1603, and succumbing to the irony of fate, named
the son of Mary Stuart--James VI. of Scotland--her successor.