CHAPTER X.

AGAINST THE TIDE.

_July-December_ 1553.

Mary’s opportunity was in many ways a splendid one. From her earliest

youth, the new Queen had been the hope, the admiration, the delight

of the English people, and the poet expressed no mere conceit in the

words:—

_Il n’est cœur si triste qui ne rie

En attendant la princesse Marie._

The whole country welcomed her as one man, and it may be truly said

that it was the affection of Englishmen, no less than their loyalty

that had placed her on the throne. Nevertheless, she was beset with

difficulties. The art of reigning as she understood it was part and

parcel of the mediæval system, but it needed a spirit touched with the

inspiration of the new age, to direct the restless activities of a

nation already beginning to be permeated with the Renaissance. While

she looked back to the past, her people had emancipated themselves from

mediæval traditions.

Moulding her conduct on the ideals which she had venerated from her

youth upwards, she regarded the new needs and tendencies with suspicion

and dislike; and thus gradually a breach was formed between herself

and the nation. She had its interests as sincerely at heart as any

English monarch either before or after her, but those interests, as she

understood them, were hopelessly at variance with the seething crowd of

ideas that were transforming the life of the people.

With intense honesty of purpose, Mary stood at the parting of the

ways, between a mediævalism that seemed good in her eyes, and a

progress that all her experience had taught her to interpret as

revolution. It was partly her inability to distinguish between the

two, to seize the good element in the new modes of thought, that

brought about the catastrophe of her reign, and evolved anarchy out of

aspirations, which ably led and controlled, might have contributed to

the welfare of the realm. If it is unfortunate to be born in advance

of one’s age, it is doubly so to be behind it; but if conscientious

motives and earnest endeavour could have compensated for the mistake,

Mary would have won golden opinions instead of hatred and abuse. But

there were difficulties quite independent of her own limitations.

At the outset, the task of forming a government was a delicate one.

Nearly all the statesmen of the time had been members of Edward’s

Council and had proved themselves traitors. When she had restored the

Duke of Norfolk to the Council Board, had installed Sir John Gage

as Constable of the Tower, had made Sir Henry Jerningham a member

of her Privy Council, Vice-Chancellor and Captain of the Guard, had

knighted her faithful Rochester and set him over her household, had

promoted Waldegrave to the charge of the Grand Wardrobe, and had made

Sir Francis Englefield a Privy Councillor, the most important of the

public offices remained to be filled by those whom she could neither

afford to offend nor to dispense with, but who had all failed at the

critical moment. The Earl of Arundel became Lord Steward, the Marquis

of Winchester retained his office of High Treasurer, while many others

of doubtful loyalty, including Sir William Petre and Sir John Masone,

made her Privy Council a compact body of potential conspirators. Lord

Paget, the most dangerous of all, became Secretary of State and Privy

Seal. Gardiner, henceforth Lord Chancellor, had once vehemently opposed

the validity of her mother’s marriage, although he had since amply

vindicated his claim to Mary’s regard, and stood highest of all in her

counsels, a sufficient answer to the charge so often made that the

Queen had foredoomed Cranmer, because he had pronounced the sentence of

divorce.

Mary lost no time in acquainting the Emperor and the French King with

her resolve to bring back Catholic worship. Henry congratulated her on

her intention, and urged her to proceed at once; but Charles advised

caution, and told her to pause until she had obtained the consent

of Parliament.[316] From Rome came still other counsel. If Mary was

strangely unconscious of the change that had come over the country

since the days of her childhood, at the heart of Christendom a still

greater optimism prevailed. Reginald Pole wrote to her, urging not

only the reconciliation of her kingdom with the Holy See, but also the

restitution of Church lands. He congratulated her on the manner of her

accession, and trusted that as she had been tutored in the school of

God how to rule herself, her realm would become a mirror of good order

and true justice, to the comfort of all good men.[317] He also wrote

to the Emperor, representing that as the principal foundation of her

right to the Crown rested on the legitimacy of her mother’s marriage,

which depended on the Papal dispensation of Julius II.; by deferring

the re-establishment of Papal authority her right was in consequence

deferred also.[318]

Again he wrote to Mary herself, drawing attention to her own spiritual

danger and to the shipwrecked condition of the English nation, “for the

Queen, or at least England, was assuredly shipwrecked, when she threw

herself into the sea of this century; and having drawn a picture of the

danger, her Majesty will judge whether it is the time to deliberate,

or rather to act as ordained and prescribed her by divine and human

counsel”.[319]

Pole was not alone in advising prompt and swift action. All over the

continent the same ignorance prevailed concerning the fact that England

was not the same country as in the days when Henry VIII. broke away

from Rome, and this mistaken notion as to Mary’s difficulties was not

strange, seeing that the Queen herself was still peacefully unaware

of more than half of them. The Papal nuncio in France, writing to the

Cardinal del Monte, said: “From England comes the news that the Queen

is about to enter London, beloved and revered by the people, not only

as Queen but as a saint. Her sister has arrived, and her Majesty caused

her to be received most honourably, a thousand horses with green and

white velvet trappings being sent to meet her. All the populace cry

out that Northumberland, Suffolk and Jane should have their heads

cut off. It is believed that they poisoned the late King. As soon as

the Queen arrives in London, it is supposed that she will have the

marriage between her mother and father declared valid, and she is said

to desire it very much, and wills it to be declared by all Parliaments

and statutes, so that her mother’s and her own honour may be fully

satisfied. Another of her intentions is to re-establish religion under

the obedience of his Holiness, and the feeling of the realm is with

her.” This was all true enough, but to complete the picture, he should

have added that the Puritan Londoners were violently opposed to the

old religion, that Elizabeth was as hostile as she dared to be, and

was already looked on as the champion of the Protestant party, that

the French ambassador played into their hands, and was ready for any

conspiracy.

The advice of the Emperor was preferred to all other. Next to Mary’s

devotion to her faith was her loyalty to the Hapsburgs. She had grown

up in the belief that Charles was her best friend and only refuge;

and now whenever she considered herself free to choose an independent

policy, she chose to follow his advice. Indeed, it is scarcely

thinkable, that at thirty-seven she should have awoke from the dream

of a lifetime, by the mere fact of ascending the throne. In many ways,

the Emperor advised her well. He had vast experience of the kind of

religious revolution that was agitating the greater part of Europe.

He had been twice in England, but more perhaps by his genius for

government, and his habit of working out national problems on paper,

than by his actual knowledge of the English people, the knowledge that

comes from contact, did he realise the amount of pressure that could

with any chance of success be brought to bear upon them. So long as

he applied general principles in his advice to Mary, so long was his

guidance of service to her; but where his own interests were concerned,

and those of the empire, he ceased to consider her advantage at all,

and involved her in a policy that ultimately became her ruin. If he

had so willed, she would have gone to the block cheerfully for the

principles for which More and Fisher died; but her martyrdom would

have availed the Emperor nothing. Rather would it have embroiled him

further with Henry, whose friendship he was just then anxious to

obtain. Therefore he did not scruple to entangle her conscience in the

meshes of an indefensible sophistry. When Edward’s Council had brought

the country to so miserable a condition that the Government, neither

feared nor respected abroad, dared not try conclusions with him, it was

a small matter for him to declare that he had rather Mary died on the

scaffold than abandon one jot or tittle of her faith. Having therefore

been the arbiter of her destiny during the years of her bondage, it

was not likely that he would cease to exercise his influence when the

majesty of England was centred in her person.

Although Mary had wished Edward’s obsequies to be performed in

the Catholic manner, when Charles represented to her that, as her

brother had died professing the new, reformed religion, she could not

consistently have him buried as a Catholic, she yielded to Cranmer’s

objection to having a Popish Mass said over his body. The Archbishop

of Canterbury therefore conducted his funeral, in accordance with the

established form, in Westminster Abbey, the Queen, at the same time,

with 300 of the nobility assisting at a solemn Dirge for his soul in

St. John’s Chapel in the Tower. Elizabeth refused to be present at the

Mass of requiem,[320] and Renard pressed Mary to take measures against

her, declaring that her profession of Protestantism was a decoy, to

attract to herself the malcontents, and to form a party in the State

dangerous to peace and security.[321] After events proved the truth of

this opinion. Mary replied that she was thinking of sending her sister

away from the court; but, meanwhile, Elizabeth still remained, and the

Queen did her best to convert her.

The bulk of the nation heartily welcomed the return of the old

worship, but London was Protestant to the backbone. Something like

a riot took place on the occasion of an unauthorised celebration of

Mass, in a church near the Horse-market, and when Gilbert Bourne,

Archdeacon of St. Paul’s, attempted to preach at Paul’s Cross on the

13th August fresh disturbances arose. The occasion was unfortunate,

his theme dealing with the unjust imprisonment of Bonner; and the

preacher’s language became somewhat inflammatory. “In this very place,

upon this very day, four years afore passed,” cried Bourne, “was

the Bishop of London, who is here present, most unjustly cast into

the vile dungeon of the Marshalsea, among thieves.”[322] Bonner was

hated by the Londoners on account of his uncompromising Papistry, and

for what they considered his want of tact, in his conduct towards

Ridley, who had been intruded into his see, when Edward deprived him

for religion, and whom he now replaced. The sight of him, as he sat

listening to Bourne’s panegyric, incensed the partisans of Ridley. As

the preacher went on, low murmurs grew into fierce cries, and at last

a voice called out, “Pull him down!” A dagger was thrown at Bourne,

hit a post of the pulpit, and rebounded a great way. With difficulty

Bourne was conveyed to a place of safety in St. Paul’s School.[323]

The following Sunday, a detachment of the Queen’s guard was sent to

protect the preacher,[324] but after this event, few came to listen to

the discourses at Paul’s Cross, and the Lord Mayor was ordered “to make

the ancients of the companies resort to the sermons, lest the preacher

should be discouraged by a small audience”.[325]

These riots produced the first tightening of the reins of government,

a measure which only led to further irritation. A royal proclamation

was issued, which although testifying to Mary’s benignity, describes

the tumultuous state of the metropolis. A part of it ran thus: “First,

her Majesty being presently, by the only goodness of God, settled in

her just possession of the imperial crown of this realm, and other

dominions thereunto belonging, cannot now hide that religion which

God and the world knoweth she hath ever professed from her infancy

hitherto: which as her Majesty is minded to observe and maintain for

herself, by God’s grace, during her time, so doth her Highness much

desire and would be glad the same were of all her subjects quietly and

charitably embraced. And yet she doth signify unto all her Majesty’s

loving subjects, that of her most gracious disposition and clemency,

her Highness mindeth not to compel any her said subjects thereunto,

unto such time as further order, by common assent may be taken

therein: forbidding nevertheless all her subjects of all degrees, at

their perils to move seditions or stir unquietness in her people, by

interpreting the laws of this realm after their brains and fantasies,

but quietly to continue for the time till (as before is said) further

order may be taken; and therefore willeth and straitly chargeth and

commandeth all her said good loving subjects, to live together in quiet

sort and christian charity, leaving those new found devilish terms of

papist or heretic and such like, and applying their whole care, study

and travail to live in the fear of God, exercising their conversations

in such charitable and godly doing, as their lives may indeed express

that great hunger and thirst of God’s glory and holy word, which by

rash talk and words many have pretended; and in so doing they shall

best please God, and live without danger of the laws, and maintain the

tranquillity of the realm,” etc., etc.[326]

This was published on the 18th August, but scarcely succeeded in

quieting men’s minds. Unauthorised Masses were constantly being said

in prominent places of worship hitherto given over to the services of

the established religion. Machyn’s _Diary_ records the fact that on

“the xxiii day of August began the mass at Saint Nicholas Colabay,

goodly sung in Latin, and tapers and set on the altar, and a cross, in

old Fish Street. Item the next day a goodly mass sung at St. Nicholas

Wyllms, in Latin, in Bread Street.”[327]

To many, these things appeared quite otherwise than “goodly,” and there

was much murmuring at street corners and in taverns, angry discussions

that might easily end in brawls; and the forbidden words “papist” and

“heretic” were bandied about without much restraint. Consequently,

every householder was exhorted to “keep his children, apprentices and

other servants in such order and awe, as they follow their work the

week days, and keep their parish-churches the holy day, and otherwise

to be suffered to attempt nothing tending to the violation of common

peace, and that for the contrary, every one of them to stand charged

for his children and servants”.

Meanwhile, all eyes were fixed on Cranmer. It is more than probable,

that if he had remained quiescent he would have been suffered to

retire into private life, or to betake himself to the continent like

so many others of his opinions. Strype says that he was called before

the Council at the beginning of August, to answer for his share in

the late rebellion; that he was severely reprimanded, and ordered

to confine himself to his palace at Lambeth. But this statement is

unsupported by any evidence. There are no minutes of the Privy Council

between the 2nd and the 8th August, on which day Edward’s funeral took

place, when certainly Cranmer was not a prisoner either on parole or

otherwise. Strype seems to have been confused by a letter from the

Archbishop to Cecil, dated 14th August, in which he says that he has

been to court. This appearance in the Queen’s presence would account

for the report that was immediately circulated, to the effect that he

had pledged himself to Mary, to say Mass for her.[328] Disagreeable as

the rumour must have been to him in his position as reformer, worse was

to follow. Mass had once more been said in Canterbury Cathedral, and

Cranmer was accredited by the public voice with having said it. This

was more than he could endure, and fired with indignation, he took the

first irrevocable step towards his doom. Seizing his pen, he wrote the

celebrated _Declaration_ which, if the Archbishop of Canterbury has any

determining voice in the doctrine of the Established Church of England,

should for ever settle the question whether that Church teaches belief

in the Sacrifice of the Mass or not.

“As the devil, Christ’s ancient adversary is a liar and the father of

lies, even so hath he stirred up his servants and members to persecute

Christ, and his true word and religion, which he ceaseth not to do most

earnestly at this present. For whereas the most noble Prince of famous

memory, King Henry VIII., seeing the great abuses of the Latin masses,

reformed something herein, in his time; and also our late sovereign

Lord, King Edward VI. took the same whole away, for the manifold errors

and abuses thereof, and restored in the place thereof, Christ’s holy

Supper, according to Christ’s own institution, and as the apostles in

the primitive church used the same in the beginning, the devil goeth

about by lying, to overthrow the Lord’s holy Supper, and to restore the

Latin satisfactory masses, a thing of his own invention and device. And

to bring the same more easily to pass, some have abused the name of

me Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, bruiting abroad that I have set

up the mass at Canterbury, and that I offered to say mass before the

Queen’s Highness, and at Paul’s church, and I wot not where. I have

been well exercised these twenty years to suffer and bear evil reports

and lies; and have not been mych grieved thereat, and have borne all

things quietly. Yet when untrue reports and lies turn to the hindrance

of God’s truth, they be in no wise to be tolerated and suffered.

Wherefore, these be to signify to the world, that it was not I that did

set up the mass at Canterbury; but it was a false, flattering, lying

and dissembling monk which caused the mass to be set up there, without

my advice or counsel. [Here Foxe has the words omitted by Strype,

‘Reddet illi Dominus in die illo’.] And as for offering myself, to

say mass before the Queen’s Highness, or in any other place, I never

did, as her Grace knoweth well. But if her Grace will give me leave, I

shall be ready to prove against all that will say the contrary, that

the Communion Book, set forth by the most innocent and godly Prince,

King Edward VI. in his high court of Parliament is conformable to

the order which our Saviour Christ did both observe and command to

be observed, and which his Apostles and primitive church used many

years. Whereas the mass in many things not only hath no foundation of

Christ, his Apostles, nor the primitive church, but also is manifest

contrary to the same, and contains many horrible blasphemies in it.

And although many either unlearned or maliciously do report that Mr.

Peter Martyr[329] is unlearned, yet if the Queen’s Highness will

graunt thereunto, I with the said Mr. Peter Martyr, and other four

or five which I shall choose, will by God’s grace, take upon us to

defend that not only our Common Prayers of the churches, ministration

of sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies, but also that all the

doctrine and religion by our said sovereign lord King Edward VI. is

more pure and according to God’s word than any that hath been used in

England these thousand years; so that God’s word may be the judge, and

that the reason and proofs may be set out in writing, to the intent

as well that all the world may examine and judge them, as that no man

shall start back from their writing; and what faith hath been in the

church these fifteen hundred years, we will join them in this point,

that the same doctrine and usage is to be followed which was in the

church fifteen hundred years past. And we shall prove that the order of

the church set out at this present, in this church of England by Act

of Parliament, is the same that was used in the church fifteen hundred

years past—and so shall they never be able to prove theirs.”[330]

This document was copied in all the scriveners’ shops in London,

circulated widely and posted up in Cheapside. Foxe, with his wonted

inaccuracy, says that the Archbishop was, in consequence, summoned

before the Commissioners of St. Paul’s, and interrogated by Bishop

Heath, and by Scory, Bishop of Rochester. Now Scory was not at that

time Bishop of Rochester, neither was Heath on the Commission, but at

the Council Board, which he joined on the 4th September. Moreover, when

on other occasions Cranmer was summoned before the Commissioners, he

did not appear personally but by proxy. For “Commissioners” we must

therefore read “Council”.

“My Lord,” said Bishop Heath gently, “there is a bill put forth in your

name, wherein you seem to be aggrieved at setting up Mass again. We

doubt not but you are sorry that it is gone abroad.”

“As I do not deny myself to be the very author of that bill or letter,”

replied Cranmer, “so must I confess here unto you, that I am sorry

that the said bill went from me in such sort as it did. For when I had

written it, Master Scory got the copy of me, and it is now come abroad,

and as I understand, the city is full of it. For which I am sorry that

it is so passed my hands, for I had intended otherwise to have made it

in a more large and ample manner, and minded to have set it on Paul’s

church door, and on the doors of all the churches in London, with mine

own seal joined thereto.”

He was then ordered to appear the following day in the Star Chamber,

and, after a long and serious debate, was committed to the Tower, “as

well for the treason committed by him against the Queen’s Highness, as

for the aggravating the same his offence by spreading abroad seditious

bills, moving tumults, to the disquietness of the present State”.[331]

The Archbishop had had ample opportunity for flight had he been so

inclined, but he persistently refused to take advantage of it, though

he advised others in like danger to escape to the continent.[332] Great

numbers did so, and went to Strassburg, Antwerp, Worms, Frankfort or

Geneva, in all of which cities the new doctrines obtained. Among the

fugitives were the Bishops of Winchester, Wells, Chichester, Exeter and

Ossory; the Dean of Christ Church, Oxford, and those of Westminster,

Exeter, Durham, Wells and Chichester; and the Archbishop’s brother

Edmund, Archdeacon of Canterbury.[333] Peter Martyr also applied for

passports which were granted without reluctance, and five days after

Cranmer’s committal, he left England “with great safety and unnecessary

precaution”.[334] The government apparently connived also at Latimer’s

escape, for the Bishop received warning of the coming of a pursuivant

from the Council. The pursuivant did no more than deliver a letter

and depart, after which plenty of time was left, in the hope that he

would take flight. But he did not budge, and accordingly, on the 13th

September, the Council Register states that “This day Hugh Latimer,

clerk, appeared before the lords, and for his seditious demeanour

was committed to the Tower, there to remain a close prisoner, having

attending upon him one Austin, his servant”.[335]

Mary was Queen, but not entirely mistress of her kingdom. De Noailles

was careful to keep the coals stirred continually, and was responsible

for at least half the discontent that prevailed in London. Elizabeth,

whose vanity prompted her to pose as the centre of attraction

everywhere, coquetted with the French ambassador, with the populace,

with the leaders of the Protestant party, without committing herself

to any overt act of rebellion. She was already mistress in the arts

of innuendo, dissimulation and intrigue. The treachery of de Noailles

made her the stalking-horse of the Reformers, although the ambassador

expressed to his master a fear, that her obstinacy in refusing to go

to Mass would shortly land her in the Tower.[336] But he was not even

sincere in his treachery, for lightly as he imperilled Elizabeth’s life

by encouraging the Princess to associate herself with the factious, it

was scarcely his aim in the event of a successful insurrection to place

her on the throne. Mary Queen of Scots was Mary Tudor’s next legitimate

heir, and as the wife of the Dauphin would, if she mounted the throne

of England, bring to a glorious end the humiliation under which the

French had smarted for centuries, in seeing the English monarchs, their

rivals, quartering the arms, and coolly assuming the style of Kings

of France. But of these ulterior views the ambassador’s friends in

England were totally ignorant, and perhaps even Elizabeth, with all

her cleverness, was at least once in her life completely outwitted. It

was constantly represented to the Queen, that her sister’s attitude

was a serious danger to the government, and the imperial ambassadors

urged that the Princess should be banished from London, where she was

surrounded by partisans, and if she would not conform to the Catholic

faith, it would be better for her to be in prison than out of it.

Mary, loth to coerce, tried to persuade her by the force of example,

and would hear five or six Masses daily, surrounded by the members

of her Privy Council, all of whom had been, till recently, ardent

Protestants.[337] Elizabeth and Anne of Cleves were the only persons at

court who still held out. At last, alarmed at the sinister reports that

reached her, Mary told her sister, that if she wished to remain near

her person, she must break with the new doctrines, and with those who

professed them.

Considering then, that she had done enough to exculpate herself in the

eyes of those who had been carefully taught to look on her as their

Joshua, Elizabeth threw herself at the Queen’s feet, and with streaming

eyes expressed her sorrow at having seemingly lost her Majesty’s

affection. She could account for it, she declared, in no other way than

her profession of the reformed religion, for which, however, she ought

to be excused, as having been brought up in it, and never taught any

other. Perhaps, she pleaded, if she were provided with books, and aided

by the instructions of divines, she might see her errors, and embrace

the religion of her fathers. Her conversion was the work of a week.

She went to Mass with the Queen, on the 8th September, and soon after,

opened a chapel in her own house, and sent to Flanders for a chalice,

cross and vestments.[338] De Noailles, without laying claim to great

sagacity, might well express his opinion that all this proceeded more

from policy than from any deep religious conviction. Up to the last

moment before going to Mass, Elizabeth did all she could to persuade

her Protestant friends that she was merely acting under compulsion.

Even on her way to the chapel, she sighed and groaned, and gave out

that she was ill. Renard too, doubted the sincerity of her conversion,

especially as she did not appear at Mass on the Sundays following, and

he besought the Queen to secure her person, as a frequenter and abettor

of rebels. Mary assured him that she had also had grave misgivings, had

already sent for her sister and implored her to say frankly whether

she was a Catholic and shared the Catholic belief in the Eucharist, or

whether, as it had been affirmed, her conversion were a feint or the

result of fear. Elizabeth, the Queen said, had professed herself ready

to declare in public that she had acted in accordance with the dictates

of her conscience, without feint, fear or dissimulation; but in saying

these words she had trembled from head to foot.[339] Renard and his

colleagues continued to regard her as the champion of the disaffected,

and were careful to bring to the Queen’s notice the persistent rumours

concerning her. But Mary, on her guard perhaps, lest she should lend a

too willing ear, as persistently refused to act upon them, continued to

call Elizabeth her “good sister,” held her by the hand at all the great

court ceremonies, and showered kindnesses and gifts upon her. Among

other jewels, she gave her a brooch about this time, representing the

story of Pyramus and Thisbe, with a magnificent table diamond, and four

rubies; two volumes bound in massive gold, the one set with rubies,

with a diamond clasp, the other containing the portraits of Mary’s

father and mother; a white coral rosary mounted in gold, etc.[340]

Either from fear of displeasing the Puritans by ornamenting herself

with gems, or for some other reason, Elizabeth avoided either wearing

or using her sister’s presents.[341]

One of the distinguishing features of the new reign was the style of

dress adopted by the court. By restoring something of the splendour

that had distinguished it in the early days of Henry VIII., by bringing

dancing and music again into vogue, and by abolishing the sombre

Puritanical fashion of Edward’s reign, Mary had given a much-needed

impetus to trade, and while she offended some by her sumptuous attire,

the change found favour with the many, weary of the dull, colourless

garments, which for six years had been supposed to indicate a state of

salvation. De Noailles told his master that the Queen had abolished the

former “_superstition_” regarding ladies’ dress, which had forbidden

them hitherto to wear gold ornaments or coloured clothes, and that her

Majesty herself, and the ladies of the court were adorned with jewels

and dressed _à la française_, with wide sleeves to their gowns.[342]

In consequence of the revival of industries, money at once began to

circulate more freely, and this naturally exercised a beneficial effect

on the nation at large, long the prey of poverty and discontent. Those

only had been satisfied who were enriched by the plunder of churches

and monasteries. The monopoly of land having been one of Henry’s

chief objects in seizing Church property, every stray piece of waste

ground was enclosed and rack-rented, so that the poor man, who had

hitherto been able to keep a cow and a few sheep, could not afterwards

so much as find food for a goose or a hen. The fishing population,

since days of abstinence from meat were no longer obligatory, suffered

as much as the country people, for the fisheries declined, through

want of a market to dispose of the smack-loads with which the ports

were glutted. The suppression of the religious houses affected the

arts and crafts throughout the country. Nine years afterwards, at

the beginning of Edward’s reign, it was found necessary to deal with

vagrancy by legislation. The indigent had become the great bulk of

the nation, while those who had grown rich with the wealth which had

formerly been distributed at the convent gates, thought of nothing

less than of feeding the hungry. Stringent poor-laws were enacted,

but failed to meet the difficulty. A vagrant might be pressed into

the service of any person who met him on the King’s highway. If he

refused to do the work assigned to him, how vile soever it might

be, he was branded with the letter V, and adjudged a slave for two

years, to be fed on bread and water and refuse meat. A first attempt

at escape was punished by the slave being branded with an S, after

which he was kept a slave for life. A second attempt resulted in a

felon’s death. From all this Mary delivered her people. Poverty under

her was no longer considered a crime, and if there is one special

reason more than another for honouring her memory it is her love and

care for the poor and afflicted, of which we shall presently see many

examples.[343] But besides the able-bodied vagrants, a vast number of

feeble, halt, blind and wretched vagabonds lay and crept begging in

the miry streets of London and Westminster. Money, urgently needed to

reanimate commerce, and pay the debts of the Crown, had been squandered

in the erection of expensive public buildings. In Sorranzo’s report

on England in 1553, the Venetian ambassador says of London, that on

the banks of the river were many fine palaces, making a grand show,

but that the rest of the city was much disfigured by the ruins of a

multitude of churches and monasteries, belonging heretofore to friars

and nuns. The population was dense, numbering 180,000 souls.[344]

Mary found, not merely an impoverished exchequer, but a mass of royal

debts. In 1551 Edward’s liabilities had amounted to £241,179 14s.

10d.; in 1553 they still exceeded £190,000.[345] Immediately on her

accession, the Queen acknowledged herself answerable for the salaries,

three years in arrear, of all the Crown officials, although she had

no longer a private purse; and while one royal proclamation restored

a depreciated currency, setting forth the Queen’s “tender care to her

loving subjects,” adding how sensible she was of “the great intolerable

charges had come to her subjects by base money,”[346] another remitted

two odious and oppressive taxes levied by the late Parliament. These

were subsidies of four shillings in the pound on land, and two

shillings and eightpence on goods, a burden that had weighed heavily on

the small merchants and farmers.

Mary’s scrupulous justice and honesty left little wherewith to make a

show of generosity. It had ever been the custom for English monarchs to

reward those who had fought in their quarrel, with rich gifts of land

and money, but clamour as her friends might, the Queen would not make

grants of Church property, and there were few other resources at her

command. “She is so poor,” said de Noailles, “that her want of money is

apparent, even to the dishes put upon her table.”

Her choice of Gardiner as Chancellor was fortunate for the

rehabilitation of the public finances. His ability in this direction

was undeniable, his integrity known to all, and while he lived, however

low the state of her coffers, Mary was never in debt. An Englishman

to a fault, rough, uncouth and frank, often to incivility, Gardiner

was liked by few. Both the French and Imperial ambassadors hated him

cordially. Renard added distrust to his relations with him, remembering

the active part which he had taken in the divorce of Queen Katharine,

and in the declaration of the royal supremacy. He could not believe in

the sincerity of the man, who was in reality burning with desire to

prove it. But apart from his past history, Gardiner’s actual attitude

was an obstacle to imperial interests in England. His patriotism, no

less than his honesty and common sense, led him to discern that no

matrimonial alliance, however brilliant, would be acceptable to the

nation, if contracted with a foreigner. Fear and abhorrence of any

“foreign potentate” having jurisdiction in this realm had become part

and parcel of that insular prejudice, which had sprung up since the

separation from Rome, a prejudice which Mary underrated, if she did

not entirely ignore it, while Renard, to make the situation acute,

was entrusted with a secret mission from the Emperor to bring about

a marriage between her and his son, the Prince of Spain. There were

henceforth three antagonistic parties in the State—the Spanish, the

loyal English headed by Gardiner, and the disloyal, leagued secretly

with the French.

To de Noailles, polished, urbane and ceremonious, an ultra Frenchman,

the Chancellor was peculiarly obnoxious. Gardiner had always had

a reputation for want of courtesy, and on his release, the French

ambassador was the first to observe that imprisonment had not

civilised him.[347] But if these two, who were working to some extent

for the same ends,[348] had joined forces, they might together have

defeated the Emperor’s schemes. They were however natural enemies, the

invincible element of deceit and treachery in de Noailles revolting

Gardiner, even more than his own want of tact disgusted the Frenchman.

Pugnacious, outspoken, and strong in the integrity of his intention,

the Chancellor held his own in the Council, although he was opposed

throughout by Arundel and Paget, who favoured the imperial policy.

But highly as she esteemed him for his probity, he was powerless to

influence the Queen. The subject of her marriage exercised the minds

of all parties in the State. Even her ladies talked to her of nothing

else, and Mary herself, who had hitherto preferred to remain unmarried,

acquiesced in the general understanding, that it was for the common

weal she should now choose a husband. Before her public entry into

London, Renard had secretly waited upon her at New Hall, to treat of

the matter. She had told him, that before succeeding to the throne,

she had resolved to end her days as a celibate, but that now another

duty had been imposed on her. She was resolved, she said, to follow

the Emperor’s advice, and to choose the consort whom he approved, for

after God, she desired to obey him as a father. Only she besought him

to consider her age, and not to press her to treat of matrimony with

any whom she had not seen and heard. She gave Renard to understand

that she had not been deceived by the Emperor’s feigned advice to her

ambassadors at Brussels, that she should marry one of her own nobles,

and that she even suspected them of having interpolated the sentence in

which it was contained, to suit their own inclinations. On receiving

Renard’s letter, containing an account of this audience, Charles

replied that the Queen plainly showed by what she had said, that she

inclined towards marriage with a foreigner.[349]

A few days later (according to de Noailles, on the 12th August) Mary

repeated formally what she had already said to Renard, that for State

reasons she had resolved to marry, and that seeing no suitable match in

her own kingdom, she would form an alliance with a foreigner, trusting

that the Emperor would propose a Catholic, and arrange for her to see

and speak with the aspirant to her hand. She stipulated earnestly that

he should not be too young.[350]

Among the prisoners already mentioned as having been liberated on

her accession was Edward Courtenay, son of the Marquis of Exeter.

Descended like his cousin, Reginald Pole, from the royal family,

through his mother, Courtenay possessed advantages of birth sufficient

to justify his being put forward as a candidate for the Queen’s favour;

but in spite of all that has been written on the subject, it is more

than doubtful, whether Mary, even for a moment, thought seriously of

marrying him. With the whole Renard correspondence before us, it seems

certain that from the beginning she had placed her destiny in the hands

of the Emperor, and was resolved to abide by his choice.

Courtenay was handsome and fascinating in appearance, of noble carriage

and distinguished manners; at the time of his release from the Tower,

he was twenty-six years old, fourteen of which had been spent in

prison. The Queen, as if she could not do enough to compensate him for

the long injustice he had suffered, lavished honours and benefits upon

him. She restored to him the earldom of Devon, and his confiscated

estates of the marquisate of Exeter; and de Noailles surmised that,

had he continued to deserve favours, the dukedom of York was in store

for him.[351] His mother was made first lady of the court, and slept

with the Queen. Courtenay became for a time the idol of the people,

who would gladly have seen him married to their sovereign; but the

idea probably originated with Gardiner, who had conceived an affection

for the young man during their common imprisonment. He did his utmost

to induce Mary to marry him, and had Courtenay proved himself worthy,

and had the Chancellor and de Noailles worked in concert, she might

possibly have raised him to the throne, their united action overcoming

the Emperor’s influence, but there was no foundation for de Noailles’

absurd theory that she was in love with him. Scarcely was he out of

the Tower, than intoxicated with his first sweet draught of freedom,

he abandoned himself to every kind of dissipation, and frequented the

loosest company. London echoed with tales of his excesses.

Even in those early days, his name was as often coupled with

Elizabeth’s as with the Queen’s, and at the beginning of August, the

imperial ambassadors told Mary that Courtenay and her sister were in

collusion. They were careful also to keep her informed of his new

way of life, which caused her great indignation, though de Noailles

persisted in declaring that she was so deeply enamoured of him,

that she would put up with all his licentiousness, and marry him in

spite of everything. Unfounded as these assertions were, they gained

considerable credence at home and abroad, and Prosper de Sainte Croix

wrote to Cardinal del Monte, that it was very likely that the Queen

of England would decide on Courtenay as a husband, as she had lately

given him a diamond worth 16,000 crowns, which King Henry used to wear.

But while Mary declared in public, that it was not to her honour to

marry a subject, she told her friends privately that his immorality

would alone prove a sufficient barrier. The French ambassador was not

so blinded by his illusion, as not to perceive that Courtenay was fast

ruining whatever prospects he might have had, and with facile diplomacy

he caught the ball at the rebound, and still carried on the game in

the interests of France. If Mary’s disappointed suitor were not to

be a convenient foil to Spain, by marrying the Queen, he might still

be valuable as a name to conjure with in connection with Elizabeth.

If only he were a little more enterprising and a trifle less timid,

Courtenay and Elizabeth might well lay themselves out for popularity

among the discontented Protestants. De Noailles entertained him at a

banquet, under cover of his belonging to the Queen’s Privy Council,

flattered and encouraged him, and let fall a few tentative words,

to the effect that he should push his fortunes. A few days later,

Courtenay was seen leaving the French ambassador’s house disguised, at

midnight.

Meanwhile Gardiner, and with him most of the loyalists, disappointed

in the new Earl of Devon, looked to Reginald Pole as their next best

hope. Mary was known to have an affectionate regard for her kinsman,

and she owed him, moreover, a debt of gratitude. It will be remembered

that there had been once before a question of their marriage. But

Pole, although not yet irrevocably pledged to the ecclesiastical state,

being only in minor orders, was without ambition, and had no desire for

matrimony. He even thought that the Queen, being of the age she was,

should remain single, and leave the succession to take its course; and

he charged his friend, Pedro Soto, to say this to the Emperor. But the

Council were greatly concerned to negotiate a suitable match, and the

only two eligible Englishmen being henceforth out of the reckoning,

they turned their attention successively to the King of Denmark,

the Infant of Portugal, the Prince of Piedmont and to Ferdinand of

Austria, King of the Romans. But during this time, Renard was not idle.

Having sounded Mary with regard to the Prince of Spain, he proceeded

diligently to combat her objections. In his first interview at New

Hall, he had merely put forward the suggestion of a marriage; by

degrees Philip’s name was introduced, and when he judged that the time

was come for delivering the Emperor’s message, he flattered himself

that the day was won, because she smiled as she listened. Writing to

the Bishop of Arras, Cardinal Granvelle, he said, “Je connais ladite

reine, tant facile, tant bonne, tant peu expérimentée des choses du

monde et d’état, tant novice en toutes choses.... Et pour vous dire

confidemment ce que me semble d’elle, je suis en opinion que si Dieu ne

la garde, elle se trouvera trompée et abusée, soit par pratiques des

Français, soit par conspirations particulières de ceux du pays, soit

par poison ou autrement.”[352]

Mary has been represented by some modern historians as eagerly desiring

the marriage with Philip, as greedily swallowing the tempting bait, her

passion overleaping every obstacle. Nothing is farther from the truth,

and those who have carefully followed her career step by step hitherto,

will readily acknowledge, that such a reading of her character is

altogether at variance with the whole tenour of her life. With regard

to this marriage, she saw difficulties on all sides, and observed

to Renard that the suitors proposed to her were so young that she

might be the mother of them all, and reminded him that his Highness,

the Prince of Spain, was twelve years younger than herself. She also

objected that he would naturally wish to pass much of his time in

Spain, ordering and administering the affairs of his kingdom, and that

this would constitute an immense drawback to the marriage, adding that

she had never seriously contemplated matrimony until God had promoted

her to the Crown, nor felt affection for any man.[353]

After this interview, Renard thought that Mary was more inclined to

the Emperor’s brother, Ferdinand of Austria, who had attained the

mature age of fifty, than to Philip, who was no older than Courtenay,

but he thought, too, that Ferdinand’s son, Maximilian, had also a

fair chance. Nevertheless, he ceased not to sing Philip’s praises,

and before long, all London was in possession of the secret, that the

Emperor was soliciting the Queen’s hand for his son. None scrupled to

express a disapproval, which became general hostility, when de Noailles

had dexterously insinuated, that the coming of Philip as their King

would mean ruin to the English, followed by the establishment of the

Inquisition. To his master he observed reasonably enough, that the

Spanish marriage of the Queen would be “to the great displeasure of

all, with perpetual war against your Majesty, the Scotch and her own

subjects, who will unwillingly suffer the rule of a foreigner”.[354]

The simmering discontent was momentarily allayed by the prospect of the

Queen’s coronation on the 1st October, and by the issuing far and wide

of writs for the assembling of Parliament on the 4th.

The Londoners had ever loved a spectacle, and having been deprived

for six years of every outward and visible sign of rejoicing, their

whole energies were now turned to the devising of a succession of

brilliant pageants, wherein they proposed to do honour to the Queen.

They flattered themselves that at the meeting of Parliament, all

difficulties would be adjusted.

The Queen, entirely occupied with the solemnity before her, had applied

through Renard to the Bishop of Arras, Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle,

to procure the chrism to be used in her anointing. The Bishop, in

sending the three different unctions necessary, excused himself for

not enclosing them in a more costly box, saying that, as no artist

(_nul maistre_) had been willing to undertake the preparation of a

more ornate receptacle in less than three weeks, he sent the box which

he usually carried about with him, choosing to execute her Majesty’s

commission in a rough and ready manner, rather than to fail altogether

by being too late.[355] On the same day the Papal Nuncio told Cardinal

del Monte, that Mary had resolved no longer to style herself supreme

Head of the Church of England, but simply Queen of France and England,

that she had caused coin to be struck with her effigy on one side,

and on the other, the legend _Veritas temporis filia_, that she had

abrogated several taxes, and had ordered that Mass should again be

offered throughout the kingdom.

At two o’clock on the afternoon of the 30th September the Queen left

the Tower, and passed through the city to her coronation in Westminster

Abbey. Elizabeth and Anne of Cleves followed Mary’s chariot, which was

covered with cloth of gold, in one only a little less splendid, covered

with cloth of silver. After them came the ladies of the court. “All

the streets from the Tower to Temple Bar were richly hung with divers

costly pageants.”[356]

That night, the court remained at Westminster Palace, and the next

day, all walked in solemn procession on foot to the Abbey, where Mary

was crowned by Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester; the Archbishop

of Canterbury, on whom the office would naturally have fallen, being

in prison. To a superficial observer all would have appeared as

satisfactory as possible; the cheers of the people were hearty and

spontaneous, and the Queen, deeply impressed by the significance of

the act she was accomplishing, was yet not so entirely wrapt in her

devotions, but that she had a kindly look and smile for the crowd that

pressed round her on all sides. Behind her stood Elizabeth, and Anne of

Cleves, both Princesses wearing dresses of crimson velvet trimmed with

ermine; on their heads were crowns of gold, ablaze with precious stones

of great size and value. The Queen’s crown, sceptre, sword and other

insignia of the regal office were carried by the highest dignitaries

in the State. Renard watched Elizabeth closely, and noticed signs of

intelligence between her and the French ambassador. After the ceremony,

as the royal procession was moving towards Westminster Hall, he heard

her complain to de Noailles of the weight of the crown she was wearing.

“Have patience,” he replied, “it is only the preliminary to one that

will sit more lightly.”[357]

On Thursday, the 5th October, the first Parliament of Mary’s reign met

“to consider chiefly the restoration of religion”.

Great interest had been taken throughout the realm, in the election of

the 430 members who made up on the opening day an unusually full House.

Even Froude, who will not be suspected of partiality, admits[358] that

“on the whole it was perhaps the fairest election which had taken place

for many years”.

Mary opened Parliament in person, “the Queen riding from Whitehall in

her Parliament robes, with all the lords spiritual and temporal in

their Parliament robes; and had a solemn Mass of the Holy Ghost sung

in Westminster Church, with a sermon made by Dr. Heath, Bishop of

Chichester”.[359]

Afterwards, the Lord Chancellor, addressing both Houses, extolled the

virtue, piety and clemency of their sovereign. The speech was received

with enthusiasm, and hopes were entertained that the Queen’s measures

would be passed without opposition. Five days later, Mary sent down

a bill for the abrogation of all laws concerning religion that had

been passed during the two preceding reigns, one clause of the bill

dealing especially with her mother’s divorce, and the question of her

own legitimacy. The peers passed it without debate, but in the Lower

House some stormy scenes attended the reading. The Commons had imagined

that Mary would be content to restore religion to the condition in

which her father had left it, and now they perceived, in the proposed

abrogation of the decree of divorce, not merely a recognition of

the Pope’s dispensing power, but an attempt to re-establish his

jurisdiction in England. For this, the majority of the nation were

unprepared. For twenty years and more, the Pope’s authority had been

treated with contempt, his jurisdiction denied, his claims ridiculed,

his name converted into a mark of infamy, and only mentioned with the

foulest abuse. The language of the Reformers admirably promoted the

effect which Henry VIII. wished to produce on the national mind, and

by constant repetition of every scurrilous term of opprobrium, they

had gained the popular ear. Few, at the beginning of Mary’s reign,

were of so judicial a mind as to distinguish the real Pope from the

bugbear that had been set up. Moreover, at the back of the prejudice

lurked the fear, as yet vague and undefined, of a possible contingency,

involving the restoration of Church property, on which so many had

become rich. But besides the old and the middle-aged, with whom these

things weighed, a fresh generation had sprung up, to whom the Papacy,

if not the execrable institution that it was popularly believed to

be, yet savoured too much of the past, and of those dreary mediæval

times, from which the world was escaping as from a tomb. Too recent

to appear picturesque, the Middle Ages were, to the pioneers of the

new era, out of date and old-fashioned, terms far more injurious than

the most violent word-war of the preachers. Filled with the new wine

of the Renaissance, these youthful enthusiasts formed the nucleus of

that phalanx of life-loving, exuberant personalities who, throwing

all their energies into the glorification of liberty, fame, pleasure,

and earthly beauty, gave us subsequently the Elizabethan age. To all

of these the very shadow of a spiritual authority was repellant, and

the whole session would doubtless have worn itself out in wrangling,

had not the Queen, coming unexpectedly to the House, seen how matters

stood. She promptly affixed the royal assent to three bills that had

been passed, and prorogued Parliament for three days. During this

interval, two separate bills were framed in the place of the one

obnoxious one, the first dealing exclusively with the confirmation of

Henry’s first marriage. To make this bill acceptable to the Commons,

all allusion to the Pope was avoided. The royal couple, it stated, had

lived together in lawful matrimony for twenty years, after which time,

unfounded scruples and projects of divorce had been suggested to the

King, by interested persons, who, to further their schemes, obtained

by threats and bribery the seals of national and foreign universities

in favour of the divorce, the sentence being ungodlily pronounced by

Thomas, the newly made Archbishop of Canterbury, against all principles

of equity and conscience, and in the absence of Queen Katharine.

The sentence had afterwards been ratified by Parliament, but as the

marriage was not prohibited by divine law, it could not be dissolved

by any such authority. The bill required therefore that the marriage

should be adjudged good and valid.[360]

Although what was demanded was tantamount to a decree bastardising

Elizabeth, not a dissentient voice was raised against the bill in

either House.[361]

The second bill was framed in such a manner as to allay the fears of

the holders of Church property, and to reassure those who dreaded

a return to Papal jurisdiction. It made therefore no mention of

ecclesiastical property, neither did it touch the vital question of the

royal supremacy, but simply aimed at the re-establishment of religion

as it was left at Henry’s death, with the repeal of nine Acts passed

by the influence of Edward’s Council. The debate lasted two days in

the Lower House, two-thirds of which consisted of friends of the new

doctrines. Nevertheless, the bill passed without a division, and

Cranmer’s ingenious compromise between Catholicism, Lutheranism and

Calvinism was abolished.[362]

The other bills passed in this session related to the Acts, bonds,

deeds and writings passed during the nine days’ usurpation, and were

made as binding in law, as if Mary’s name had stood for Jane’s. It was

also decreed, that nothing should be accounted treason but what fell

under the famous statute of Edward III., nor felony but what was so

understood in the first year of Henry VIII. The Acts against riotous

gatherings passed in the reign of Edward VI. were revived; several

persons attainted were restored in blood, and their estates given back

to them. Those who had been foremost in actively conspiring to exclude

Mary from the throne were attainted. These were, the Archbishop of

Canterbury, Lord Guildford and Lord Ambrose Dudley, and the Lady Jane.

All these measures were passed without serious obstacle; the real crux

lay in the question of the Queen’s marriage. On the 6th September, de

Noailles had been informed by one of the Howards, especially trusted

by Mary, of her secret interview with Renard, and of his formal

proposal to her from the Emperor, to marry Philip of Spain. The French

ambassador lost no time in informing his master of the threatened

danger to France, requesting that his brother, the protonotary,

François de Noailles, might be accredited as his coadjutor in the

difficult diplomatic situation likely to ensue. The following night,

he sent for one of Courtenay’s friends, and advised him and his party

to acquire as many allies as possible among those who came personally

into contact with the Queen and the members of Parliament, soon to be

assembled. These latter were to be incensed against Spain, and brought

to petition her Majesty not to take a foreigner for her consort. On the

8th, he had an interview with Sorranzo, the Venetian envoy, whom he

found ready to enter into his schemes, although Sorranzo had received

no instructions from his government, on the subject of the Queen’s

marriage. But so great was his dread of any further aggrandisement

of the House of Austria, that he was willing to listen to anything

de Noailles had to propose. On the 9th, the French ambassador sought

out Gardiner, and harangued him for two hours, on the dangers and

disadvantages of the proposed union—to the Queen who would soon find

herself forsaken by her husband—to the ministers who knew well that

Spaniards were not people to suffer opposition in the government—to the

realm at large which would see its fortresses occupied by foreigners,

and be itself drawn into a war with France, “for,” said he, “if the

Emperor married his son to the Queen of England,” it was “with the

intention that she, in accepting him, should take upon herself all his

quarrels”.[363]

To these arguments Gardiner more than agreed, but he was careful not

to show his hand completely. He had been the first to remonstrate with

Mary, urging the dislike of the English to foreigners, the arrogance

of Spain in particular, and the danger of a perpetual war with the

French, who would never agree to the Low Countries being annexed to

England. But opposed to the Chancellor were the Duke of Norfolk, the

Earl of Arundel, Paget and Rochester, so that Gardiner could no longer

be said to control the Council. De Noailles declared that they were in

the pay of the Emperor. His manipulation of the popular feeling was

the cleverest stroke of all. He caused it to be widely circulated,

that immediately on his arrival and marriage, Philip would seize the

Tower and the royal treasure, and make so many innovations that the

laws would be entirely subverted, the rights of Parliament suppressed,

the Inquisition established and the people trodden under the heel of

Spain.[364] In his anxiety to prevent the union, he overstepped his

master’s commands, unless the letter which Henry II. wrote to him,

prescribing moderation, was a mere blind, intended to be shown to

the Queen. Henry’s private instructions to his ambassador regarding

his personal dealings with Mary were, that he should go to work very

delicately, not seeming to wish to prevent the marriage, which would

only cause her to be still more determined in its favour, but that

gently he should continue to express doubt of the possibility of such

an alliance, so odious to the King of France, since her Majesty had

expressed a wish to live in peace with him.

At the beginning of the second session, the Commons, largely under

the influence of de Noailles, waited a fortnight for the opportunity

to present the Queen with an address which they had voted on the

all-engrossing subject. Pleading illness, Mary sought time for further

reflection. Then she sent suddenly for the Lower House, to attend on

her at once. The Speaker presented himself, accompanied by twenty

members, all that could be collected in haste. In his hurry, he had

forgotten to provide himself with the address, but his eloquence made

up for all deficiencies of form. He spoke so long and tediously, that

Mary became impatient, and sat down, contrary to her wont. With a

great deal of circumlocution, he prayed the Queen to marry, but not to

choose a husband among foreigners, and he expatiated on the advantages

she would derive from a union with a member of the English nobility.

Such language, respectful though it might be, was not such as to be

acceptable to Tudor ears, and in an aside, Mary exclaimed that she

would be a match for all her Chancellor’s cunning.[365] When the

Speaker had finished, she rose to reply, although the answer should

rightly have devolved on Gardiner, as Chancellor, an innovation that

caused Paget to rally him afterwards on his disgrace, the Queen having

deprived him of his office. Her words were short and characteristic:

“For that you desire to see us married,” she said, “we thank you.

Your desire to dictate to us the consort whom we shall choose, we

consider somewhat superfluous. The English Parliament has not been

wont to use such language to its sovereigns, and when private persons

on such matters suit their own tastes, sovereigns may reasonably be

allowed to choose whom they prefer.” Herewith she dismissed them, and a

few days later, Parliament was dissolved.[366]

[Illustration: QUEEN MARY.

From the portrait by Sir Antonio More, at Madrid.]

The truth was, that in the interval of her seclusion, Mary had

been making up her mind. In an interview with Renard on the 14th

October, she had questioned him minutely as to Philip’s character and

disposition, entreating him several times to tell her truly, whether

the Prince was in fact moderate, well-regulated, and such in very deed

as he had been described to her. She seized both of Renard’s hands,

and implored him to be open with her, speaking to her as if he were

her confessor. Renard protested warmly that he was ready to pledge

his honour and his life, that the Prince of Spain was all that she

could desire in a husband. Still, only half-satisfied, Mary continued

to express regret that a meeting should be considered impracticable,

before her final decision.[367]

In default of the original, whom the Emperor would by no means subject

to the insulting possibility of not pleasing, a portrait of the Prince

by Titian, was sent for Mary’s acceptance by the Queen of Hungary,

Philip’s aunt.[368]

Charles was not greatly disturbed by the manner in which his overtures

had been received in England. The English opinion of Spaniards was

not less flattering than his and Renard’s of the English. “Your

Majesty knows,” wrote the imperial ambassador, “that the temper and

self-will of the English are extremely turbulent. They love change

and novelty, either because of their insular position, or by reason

of their habitual contact with the sea, or because their morals are

corrupt. Your Majesty is aware how in times past their kings have

been obliged to treat them with rigour, even shedding royal blood, in

order to maintain their control over them, for which reason they have

acquired the reputation of being cruel tyrants.” He went on to draw a

picture of all that a foreign prince must be, if he would hope to gain

the good-will of the English people. The affection of the nobility

might, he explained, be won by rich banquets and entertainments, by

dazzling them with great wealth, by giving them the means of enriching

themselves, and by showing them an example of valour, in arms and

knighthood.

Renard was not far wrong in accusing the people of turbulence. Excited

to fever heat by de Noailles’ treachery, they confounded the Queen’s

marriage with purely religious questions, and in defiance of all

reason, attacked the Catholic religion merely because it was that of

Spain. Preachers were insulted in their pulpits; it became unsafe to

say Mass in public. The rebellious tone of the Londoners communicated

itself to the provinces, especially to the home counties, and to

Devonshire, the cradle of the Courtenay family. A circular letter

from the Queen to her Council declared, that “certain ill-disposed

persons meaning, under the pretence of misliking this marriage to rebel

against the Catholic religion, and divine service restored within this

our realm, and to take from us their sovereign Lady and Queen that

liberty which is not denied to the meanest women in the choice of their

husbands, cease not to spread many false, vile and untrue reports of

our said cousin and others of that nation”.[369]

The opposition of the Commons, gently as it had been expressed, seems

to have brought Mary’s uncertainties to an end. That same night, she

took the fatal step which was eventually to deprive her of her people’s

affection, an affection that had grown with her from her childhood,

had been her consolation in days of darkness, and had enabled her

to triumph so splendidly over her enemies. A despatch of Renard’s,

addressed to the Emperor, and dated the 31st October, describes the

dramatic scene in which she pledged herself to marry Philip.

“On Sunday evening, the said Lady sent for me to a room in which the

Blessed Sacrament was exposed, and declared that since I had presented

to her your Majesty’s letters, she had not been able to sleep, but had

wept and prayed that God would counsel her, and inspire her answer to

the question of marriage, which I had asked at Beaulieu [New Hall]. She

went on to say that as the Blessed Sacrament was in the room, and she

had always invoked it as her protector, guide and counsellor, she would

on this occasion also willingly ask it to help her. And kneeling down

on both knees, she recited the _Veni Creator Spiritus_, there being in

the room only myself and mistress Clarence, who did the same. But as

for mistress Clarence, I do not know whether she heard the said prayer,

but I think so because of the sign she made me. After the said lady

had risen from her knees, she said, that as your Majesty had chosen me

to treat of this negotiation with her, she had chosen me as her first

father confessor, and your Majesty for the second, and that having

weighed everything, and considered all I had told her, besides having

spoken on the subject to Arundel, Paget and Petre, and trusting to

what I had said of the good qualities and condition of his Highness,

she begged that your Majesty would be mindful of her, and agree to all

the conditions necessary for the welfare of the kingdom, and continue

to be a good father to her; all the more now that he would be a double

father, and would obtain from his Highness to be a good husband to her.

Feeling admonished by God, who had already operated so many miracles in

her favour, she gave me her royal word, before the Blessed Sacrament,

to marry his Highness, declaring that she would never change, but

love him perfectly, and never give him cause for jealousy. She went

on to say that she had feigned illness for two days, but that her

indisposition was merely the result of the difficulty she had felt in

making this resolution. Sire, the joy which I experienced on hearing

this declaration was as great as your Majesty can imagine, for if she

invoked the Holy Spirit, I indeed invoked the Blessed Trinity, to

inspire her to give this desired answer.”[370]

This interview was kept so secret, that on the 17th November, more

than a fortnight afterwards, de Noailles knew nothing of it, and still

expressed doubt that Mary would persist in a matter that was certain

to end for her in the loss of her people’s love; and he could not

believe that the Emperor would risk sending his son into a country, the

inhabitants of which threatened to kill him, rather than recognise him

as their King.[371] Nevertheless, it was generally understood that the

Queen had made up her mind, and as a forlorn hope the people clamoured

for the arrival of Cardinal Pole, whom they credited with being opposed

to the match, counting on his influence with Mary to prevent it. He had

been appointed by Pope Julius III. legate _a latere_ and _pro pace_,

and had started for England at the beginning of October. Wotton, Mary’s

ambassador in France, wrote to Sir William Petre as follows:—

“The Pope has made Cardinal Pole legate _a latere_ to the Emperor and

French King, and thereafter he is to go to her Majesty. His errand

is to attempt a reconciliation between the two former sovereigns,

and if any Cardinal is able to do good in the matter, Pole is that

person, being esteemed of an honest mind and virtuous life, and so much

respected by the Emperor, that at the last vacation of the Papacy, the

Imperial Cardinals laboured to have him made Pope.”[372]

Pole, we have seen, was of the opinion that, having remained thus far

unmarried, Mary should not change her state, but that the succession

should be left to take care of itself. But ignorant of his young

cousin’s unworthiness, he had desired that, if any marriage took

place, it might be with Edward Courtenay, though he abstained from

giving any advice on the subject. He had reached Dillingen, near

Brussels, on his way to England, when the Emperor forbade his further

progress, informing Renard, on the 21st November that by reason of

jealousies, and because the Cardinal might effectually oppose the

Queen’s marriage with his son, Pole was better where he was.[373]

Renard replied, begging the Emperor still to detain him, for being

Courtenay’s relative, he might put spokes in the wheel of Spain. There

is no doubt that had he come to England at that time, he would, seeing

the irritation of the people, have done all he could to prevent the

marriage; but the Emperor and Renard were probably wrong in suspecting

him of the least desire to push Courtenay’s fortunes. A letter from him

to his nephew, having been intercepted, was found to contain nothing

but the advice to remain faithful to the Queen, and to cultivate

gratitude for the benefits which he had received from her.

On the 13th November, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Guildford, Ambrose

and Henry Dudley, with the Lady Jane, proceeded from the Tower on foot,

to be arraigned at the Guildhall for high treason.[374] All pleaded

guilty, Cranmer protesting that he had acted unwillingly, in deference

to the authority of the officers of the Crown. Parliament confirmed

their attainder, and they were condemned to death. The Archbishop

appealed to the Queen, and hoped that the mercy that had been extended

to so many would be shown to him.[375] Notwithstanding that the

prisoners had been convicted, there was no intention on the part of the

Queen to proceed to the extremity of the law. She hoped, by keeping

them as hostages, to secure the loyalty of their friends, an optimistic

view that was not realised. Meanwhile, every indulgence compatible with

their situation was allowed to them. Both Cranmer and Ridley had the

freedom of the Tower, and the Queen’s garden, in common with the Lady

Jane and the others. Ridley was even sometimes invited to dine at the

Lieutenant’s table. The confinement of Latimer was more rigorous. He

had from the first been ordered into close prison, with his servant to

attend him.

Thus were matters constituted at the end of 1553. Elizabeth had

remained at court for some months, in a not very enviable position,

regarded by the Imperialists as the arch-enemy, and in reality the

object of every plot that was floated. Her fate seemed to keep her

perpetually hovering between the scaffold and the throne, to which de

Noailles bade her aspire, without intending, even if he succeeded in

dethroning Mary, to help her to mount it. She besought the Queen to

allow her to retire to her house at Ashridge, but Mary hesitated, in

giving her leave to depart, and if she had her watched, it was with

good reason. Her relations with de Noailles had been discovered, and

Arundel and Paget had told the Queen that the French ambassador had

visited the Princess three or four times under cover of the night, in

order to treat secretly of her marriage.[376] But Elizabeth denied

everything, and probably the accusation regarding the ambassador’s

visits was untrue. At any rate, Mary did not believe it, and took

occasion to make a new act of confidence in her sister. She embraced

her, and gave her two strings of large and magnificent pearls and

some rich sables. On taking leave, Elizabeth entreated Mary not to

believe the reports circulated to her disadvantage without hearing her.

Nevertheless, de Noailles thought that it only depended on Courtenay,

for her to follow him into Devon and Cornwall, where they would have a

good chance of securing the Crown for themselves. He had some reason

for this belief, the mayor and aldermen of Plymouth, thanks to his

interference, having sent to beg him to supplicate his master to take

them under his protection. They wished, they said, to place their town

in his hands, and were willing to receive whatever garrison he would

place there, being resolved not to receive the Prince of Spain, nor to

obey his commands in any way, assuring de Noailles that the country

gentlemen of the neighbourhood would do the same.[377]

Gardiner, ignorant of the Queen’s definite step, continued to struggle

against the marriage, till the Emperor, at Lord Paget’s suggestion,

wrote to six members of the Privy Council, introducing the subject

of the treaty. Then, seeing that all further opposition would be

fruitless, the Chancellor, ever patriotic, consented to negotiate terms

likely to safeguard the rights, liberties and interests of the nation.

There remained only for the Emperor to make the formal demand for

Mary’s hand, on behalf of his son.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 316: _Ambassade de Renard_, Belgian Archives, Record Office

Transcripts, vol. iii., 27-29, July 1553.]

[Footnote 317: St. Mark’s Library, Venice, Cod. xxiv., Cl. x.]

[Footnote 318: Rawdon Brown, _Venetian Calendar_, 1534-54, 766, 776,

805, 823.]

[Footnote 319: _Ibid._, 836.]

[Footnote 320: De Noailles, vol. ii., p. 109.]

[Footnote 321: The Imperial Ambassadors to Charles V., Record Office

Transcripts, vol. i., pp. 276, 278.]

[Footnote 322: Bonner had been sent to prison for what he had failed

to say in a sermon at Paul’s Cross, namely, that “the king’s authority

was as great during the minority as if he were thirty or forty years

old,” a doctrine which the Council had ordered him to preach. He obeyed

on all other points, but passed this one over in silence. Hooper

and Latimer laid information against him; he was examined on seven

different days before Cranmer, and was in the end deprived and thrown

into prison, to remain there perpetually at the King’s, in other words,

the Council’s, pleasure (_Dictionary of National Biography_, Art.

“Edmund Bonner”).]

[Footnote 323: Stow, p. 613. _Grey Friars’ Chronicle_, p. 83.]

[Footnote 324: Foxe, vol. vi., p. 392.]

[Footnote 325: Burnet, vol. iii., p. 384.]

[Footnote 326: Foxe, vol. vi., p. 390 _Acts of the Privy Council_, vol.

iv., p. 317, new series.]

[Footnote 327: Machyn, p. 42.]

[Footnote 328: Dixon, _History of the Church of England_, vol. iv., p.

37 note.]

[Footnote 329: A Florentine, formerly one of the Canons Regular of St.

Augustine, who, joining the Swiss Reformers, became the intimate friend

of Zwingli and Bucer, subsequently also that of Cranmer, who often

consulted him in compiling the Book of Common Prayer.]

[Footnote 330: Harl. MS. 422, Brit. Mus., in Grindal’s hand. Foxe,

_Acts and Monuments_, vol. vi., p. 539. Strype, _Memorials of Cranmer_,

vol. i., p. 437 et seq.]

[Footnote 331: _Acts of the Privy Council_, vol. iv., p. 347, new

series.]

[Footnote 332: Strype, _Memorials of Cranmer_, vol. i., p. 449.]

[Footnote 333: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 334: Dixon, _History of the Church of England_, vol. iv., p.

44.]

[Footnote 335: See also Haynes, i., 183-84.]

[Footnote 336: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 138.]

[Footnote 337: Louis Wiesener, _La Jeunesse d’Elisabeth d’Angleterre_,

p. 101.]

[Footnote 338: Renard _apud_ Griffet, xii., pp. 106, 107. De Noailles,

vol. ii., pp. 138, 141, 160. Record Office, Belgian Transcripts,

i., pp. 360-62. Père Griffet, who now becomes one of the chief

authorities for this part of the reign, discovered, in the middle

of the last century, a number of Renard’s despatches in the royal

library at Besançon, and wrote, in answer to David Hume’s gross libel

and caricature of Queen Mary, a volume 12mo, of 197 pages, which was

published at Amsterdam in 1765. Its title, _Nouveaux Eclaircissements

sur le règne de Marie Tudor reine d’Angleterre_, shows the importance

of the book, which is now scarce. There is no copy of it in the British

Museum.]

[Footnote 339: Griffet, _ut supra_.]

[Footnote 340: _Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary_, pp. 194-97,

21st September 1553. Inventory of jewels.]

[Footnote 341: Archives des affaires étrangères, _Registre des copies

des dépêches de M. de Noailles_, tom. i. et ii. (in one), p. 125.]

[Footnote 342: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 104.]

[Footnote 343: _A History of the English Poor Law_, by Sir G. Nicholls,

K.C.B., Poor Law Commissioner and Secretary to the Poor Law Board, vol.

i., pp. 112, 130, 141.]

[Footnote 344: _Venetian Calendar_, 1534-54, p. 543.]

[Footnote 345: _Calendar of State Papers_, Domestic, vol. i., 1553.]

[Footnote 346: Strype, _Ecclesiastical Memorials_, vol. iii., pt. i.,

p. 40.]

[Footnote 347: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 123.]

[Footnote 348: Notably the exclusion of imperial influence.]

[Footnote 349: _Papiers d’Etat du Cardinal de Granvelle_, vol. iv., p.

74.]

[Footnote 350: Belgian Transcripts, vol. i., pp. 284-86, Record Office.]

[Footnote 351: _Ambassades_, vol. i., p. 232.]

[Footnote 352: _Papiers d’Etat du Cardinal de Granvelle_, p. 100. He

goes on to describe Elizabeth as “un esprit plein d’incantation,” etc.]

[Footnote 353: “Elle jura que jamais elle n’avait senti aiguillon de ce

que l’on appelle amour ... et qu’elle n’avait jamais pensé à mariage

sinon depuis que a plu à Dieu la promouvoir à la couronne, et que celui

qu’elle fera sera contre sa propre affection pour le respect de la

chose publique” (_Papiers d’Etat du Cardinal de Granvelle_, p. 98).]

[Footnote 354: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 144.]

[Footnote 355: _Papiers d’Etat_, p. 105.]

[Footnote 356: Wriothesley, _Chronicle_, vol. ii., p. 103. For Stow’s

graphic account of the royal procession see Appendix D.]

[Footnote 357: Belgian Archives, Record Office Transcripts, vol. i., p.

436. Also Griffet. But Griffet is mistaken in thinking that Elizabeth

referred to a crown she was carrying in her hands, as if it had been

the Queen’s.]

[Footnote 358: _History of England_, vol. vi., p. 109.]

[Footnote 359: Wriothesley, _Chronicle_, vol. ii., p. 103.]

[Footnote 360: Lingard, vol. v., p. 405, 5th edition.]

[Footnote 361: Henry II. rejoiced greatly at the passing of the act

confirming Mary’s legitimacy, as it _ipso facto_, as he thought,

removed the one barrier between Mary and the succession of his

daughter-in-law the Queen of Scots, the next legitimate heir to the

English throne. Both sisters could not be legitimate (Henry to de

Noailles, _Ambassades_, ii., p. 250).]

[Footnote 362: The Book of Common Prayer is called in the Act of

Parliament “a new thing, imagined by a few of singular opinions”.]

[Footnote 363: De Noailles, _Ambassades_, ii., pp. 143-48.]

[Footnote 364: _Ibid._, p. 186.]

[Footnote 365: Griffet, xxviii.]

[Footnote 366: When Mary told Gardiner that she would never marry

Courtenay, the Chancellor replied with tears, owning that he had

entertained an affection for the young man from the time of their

mutual imprisonment. Mary then asked him whether it was proper for her

to marry him just because her Chancellor was fond of him in prison

(Renard to the Emperor, Record Office Transcripts).]

[Footnote 367: Belgian Transcripts, Record Office, vol i., pp. 497-505.]

[Footnote 368: She charged Renard to inform Mary that it had been

painted three years previously, and that, like all Titian’s works,

it required to be studied at a little distance, in order to perceive

the likeness. She added, that since it had been executed, Philip had

matured and had grown more beard. About this time, Cardinal Granvelle

sent the painter, Antonio More, to England to paint Mary’s portrait

for Philip. She sat to him at different times, and he painted several

fine portraits of her. The principal one is at Madrid, in the Museo del

Prado.]

[Footnote 369: Letter of the Queen to the Council of the Marches,

Historical MSS. Commission, Report 13, app. iv., p. 318.]

[Footnote 370: Belgian Transcripts, Record Office, vol. i., pp. 600-2.]

[Footnote 371: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 283.]

[Footnote 372: MS., St. Mark’s Library, Cod. xxiv., Letter-Book, Ven.

Archives. He only just missed being elected. Two Cardinals, coming

to his cell in the Conclave one evening, begged him, as he had the

necessary two-thirds of the votes, to come to the chapel, where he

would be made Pope by “adoration”. Pole induced them to put off the

ceremony till the next day, when a further scrutiny showed that

Cardinal del Monte had a majority of votes.]

[Footnote 373: _Papiers d’Etat du Cardinal de Granvelle_, vol. iv., p.

156.]

[Footnote 374: Wriothesley, vol. ii., p. 104.]

[Footnote 375: _Cranmer’s Remains_, p. 443.]

[Footnote 376: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 309.]

[Footnote 377: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 342.]