This conspiracy was the preliminary to an event, which has been justly

characterized as the stain of deepest dye on the fair fame of

Elizabeth,—the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots, in 1586. It would be

foreign to the subject, to relate the circumstances which led that

princess to take refuge in England, trusting to Elizabeth’s promises of

protection and kindness. Her reception at first was as favourable as was

perhaps consistent with due attention to the public safety, considering

that the Roman Catholic portion of British subjects held her to be the

rightful sovereign, and Elizabeth an illegitimate and heretical usurper.

But feelings of habitual enmity, enforced perhaps by the arguments of

her political advisers, overpowered the sympathy of the first moments,

and suggested the advantages to be taken of a defenceless competitor.

Elizabeth, therefore, after having in the first instance ordered her to

be treated like a queen, afterwards committed her to close prison. On

the discovery of Babington’s plot, in which Mary was deeply implicated,

the queen of Scots was arraigned of high treason before commissioners

specially appointed by the crown. By that solemn tribunal, she was tried

and found guilty, and by Elizabeth was delivered over to execution. Even

Bohun, in his character of Elizabeth, though in general her panegyrist,

says on this occasion, “By this action, she tainted her reign with the

innocent blood of a princess, whom she had received into her dominions,

and to whom she had given sanctuary.” If the sentence was executed, not

in vindication of the offended laws, but as a sacrifice to personal

revenge, Elizabeth’s guilt was greatly aggravated by her extreme

dissimulation in the management of the affair. She no sooner received

intelligence of Mary’s decapitation, than she abandoned herself to

misery and almost despair: she put on deep mourning; her council were

severely rebuked; her ministers, and even Burleigh, were driven from her

presence with furious reproaches. Her secretary Davison was subjected to

a process in the Star-Chamber for a twofold contempt, in having revealed

her Majesty’s counsels to others of her ministers, and having given up

to them the warrant which she had committed to him in special trust and

secrecy, to be reserved for a case of sudden emergency. But Davison’s

apology, an extract from which was inserted by Camden in his Annals, has

since been found entire among the original papers of Sir Amias Paulet.

From this authentic source it appears, that Davison was made her

unconscious agent and instrument. Those who have endeavoured to

extenuate the apparent treachery of Elizabeth, have alleged that the

queen of Scots kept the queen of England in continual dread of

dethronement; and that if the necessity existed to take the life of the

queen of Scots, it was equally necessary that it should be done with a

show of reluctance, and the least possible odium to the queen of

England. Such has been the defence, both of the act itself, and of the

subsequent dissimulation. But it would be difficult to apologize for her

proceedings against Davison, an able and honest servant, whom she

disgraced and ruined, for the purpose of impressing the belief that Mary

was executed without her knowledge and contrary to her intentions. Right

and wrong must be differently estimated in sovereigns and ordinary

persons, if the sacrifice of such a victim to the shade of Mary or the

indignation of her son can be justified.

The reign of Elizabeth lasted forty-four years, four months, and six

days. It was distinguished by great actions; it raised the British name

to a high and glorious rank in the scale of nations: and we of the

present times are indebted to it for some of our greatest advantages.

But the sovereign herself closed her long and eventful life in a state

of deep melancholy. Her kinsman, Sir Robert Cary, relates, with the

quaintness of the time, the circumstances of his visit to her on her

death-bed. “She took me by the hand, and wrung it hard, and said that

her heart had been sad and heavy for ten or twelve days; and in her

discourse she fetched not so few as forty or fifty great sighs. I was

grieved at first to see her in this plight; for in all my lifetime I

never knew her fetch a sigh, but when the Queen of Scots was beheaded.”

She died March 24, 1603, in her seventieth year. Few as are the

particulars of her life which we have been able to admit into our

narrative, they have perhaps been sufficient to give an outline, however

faint, of her character. It has been drawn out in form, and with

fairness, by Lord Bolingbroke, in the following passage from his Idea of

a Patriot King. “Our Elizabeth was queen in a limited monarchy, and

reigned over a people at all times more easily led than driven; and at

that time capable of being attached to their prince and their country by

a more generous principle than any of those which prevail in our days,

by affection. There was a strong prerogative then in being, and the

crown was in possession of greater legal power. Popularity was however

then, as it is now, and as it must always be in mixed government, the

sole foundation of that sufficient authority and influence which other

constitutions give the prince gratis and independently of the people,

but which a king of this nation must acquire. The wise queen saw it; and

she saw too how much popularity depends on those appearances that depend

on the decorum, the decency, the grace, and the propriety of behaviour

of which we are speaking. A warm concern for the interest and honour of

the nation, a tenderness for her people and a confidence in their

affections, were appearances that ran through her whole public conduct,

and gave life and colour to it. She did great things; and she knew how

to set them off according to their true value, by her manner of doing

them. In her private behaviour she showed great affability, she

descended even to familiarity; but her familiarity was such as could not

be imputed to her weakness, and was therefore most justly ascribed to

her goodness. Though a woman, she hid all that was womanish about her;

and if a few equivocal marks of coquetry appeared on some occasions,

they passed like flashes of lightning, vanished as soon as they were

discovered, and imprinted no blot on her character. She had private

friendships, she had favourites: but she never suffered her friends to

forget that she was their queen; and when her favourites did, she made

them feel that she was so.”

Our delineation of Elizabeth has been rather that of a very great

personage, than of a good woman; but it must be admitted on all hands,

that the poison of calumny has been largely administered, in proportion

to the invidiousness of her position. This general lot of greatness fell

the heavier on her, in consequence of the severe laws which she was

compelled to enact and execute against the papists. The libels against

Elizabeth’s good fame were put forth mostly by persons of that

proscribed sect, who have represented her, not as indulging the

frailties from which her most strenuous advocates cannot exonerate her,

but as a monster of cruelty, avarice, and lust. It is but justice to

place in contrast with so hateful a picture the noble character ascribed

to her even by a Jesuit, in a book published in the Catholic metropolis

of France. Père d’Orleans, in his ‘Histoire des Revolutions

d’Angleterre,’ speaks thus: “Elizabeth was a person whose name

immediately imprints in our minds such a noble idea, that it is

impossible well to express it by any description whatsoever. Never did a

crowned head better understand the art of government, and commit fewer

errors in it, during a long reign. The friends of Charles V. could

reckon his faults: Elizabeth’s enemies have been reduced narrowly to

search after hers; and they, whose greatest concern it was to cast an

odium upon her conduct, have admired her. So that in her was fulfilled

this sentence of the Gospel, that the children of this world are often

wiser in their views and designs than the children of light. Elizabeth’s

aim was to reign, to govern, to be mistress, to keep her people in

submission, neither affecting to weaken her subjects, nor to make

conquests in foreign countries; but yet not suffering any person to

encroach in the least upon the sovereign power, which she knew perfectly

well how to maintain, both by policy and by force. For no person in her

time had more wit, more skill, more judgment than she had. She was not a

warlike princess; but she knew so well how to train up warriors, that

England had not for a long time seen a greater number of them, nor more

experienced.”

[Illustration: [View of the Old Palace, Greenwich.]]

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Changed “Majolica” to “Maiolica” on p. 37.

2. Changed “and same other” to “and some other” on p. 48.

3. The “Z” was reversed in “CORTEZ” on p. 122 and in “LEIBNITZ” on p.

132.

4. Changed “Evénemens” to “Événements” on p. 170.

5. Changed “ed i” to “ei” on p. 176.

6. Did not correct the variant spellings of “Raphael”.

7. Silently corrected typographical errors.

8. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.

9. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.

10. Superscripts are denoted by a carat before a single superscript

character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in

curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}.

The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Volume 6 (of 7) · 第 19 / 19 段