The multitude shouted, in reply, "Amen, Amen."[650]

[Footnote 650: Bentham to Lever: Strype's

_Memorials_, vol. vi.]

Alarmed himself, this time, at the display of emotion, Bonner dared

not outrage the metropolis with the deaths of the remaining six. Yet,

not to let them escape him, he tried them privately in his own house

at Fulham, and burnt them at Brentford at night in the darkness.[651]

[Footnote 651: "This fact," says Foxe, "purchased

him more hatred than any that he had done of the

common people."]

So fared the Protestants, murdered to propitiate Providence, and, if

possible, extort for the queen a return of the Divine favour. The

alarm of invasion diminished as summer advanced. England had again a

fleet upon the seas which feared no enemy, and could even act on the

offensive. In May, two hundred and forty ships, large and small, were

collected at Portsmouth;[652] and on the day of the burning at

Brentford, accident gave a small squadron among them a share in a

considerable victory.

[Footnote 652: Swift to the Earl of Shrewsbury:

Lodge's _Illustrations_.]

Lord Clinton, who was now admiral in the place of Howard, after an

ineffectual cruise in the south of the Channel, returned to Portsmouth

on the 8th of July. A few vessels remained in the neighbourhood of

Calais, when M. de Thermes, whom the Duke of Guise left in command

there, with the garrison of Boulogne, some levies collected in

Picardy, and his own troops, in all about 9000 men, ventured an inroad

into the Low Countries, took Dunkirk, and plundered it. Not caring to

penetrate further, he was retreating with his booty, when Count

Egmont, with a few thousand Burgundians and Flemings, cut in at

Gravelines between the French and their own frontiers. They had no

means of passing, except at low water, between the town of Gravelines

and the sea, and the English ships, which were in {p.312}

communication with Egmont, stood in as near as they could venture, so

as to command the sands.

De Thermes, obliged to advance when the tide would permit him, dashed

at the dangerous passage; the guns of Gravelines on one side, the guns

of the English vessels on the other, tore his ranks to pieces, and

Egmont charging when their confusion was at its worst, the French were

almost annihilated. Five thousand were killed, De Thermes himself,

Senarpont of Boulogne, the Governor of Picardy, and many other men of

note, were taken. If Clinton had been at hand with the strength of the

fleet, and a dash had been made at Calais by land and sea, it would

have been recovered more easily than it had been lost. But fortune had

no such favour to bestow on Queen Mary. Clinton was still loitering at

Spithead, and when news of the action came it was too late.

The plan of the naval campaign for the season was to attack Brest with

the united strength of England and Flanders, and hold it as a security

for the restoration of Calais at the peace. It was for the arrival of

his allies that Clinton had been waiting, and it was only at the end

of the month that the combined fleet, a hundred and forty sail, left

Portsmouth for the coast of Brittany. They appeared duly off Brest;

yet, when their object was before them, they changed their minds on

the feasibility of their enterprise; and leaving their original design

they landed a force at Conquet, which they plundered and burnt, and

afterwards destroyed some other villages in the neighbourhood. The

achievement was not a very splendid one. Four or five hundred Flemings

who ventured too far from the fleet were cut off; and as the Duke

d'Estampes was said to be coming up with 20,000 men, Clinton

re-embarked his men in haste, returned to Portsmouth, after an

ineffectual and merely mischievous demonstration, and then reported

the sickness in the fleet so considerable, that the operations for the

season must be considered at an end.[653]

[Footnote 653: _MS. Mary, Domestic_, vol. xiii.]

In the meantime, the contending princes in their own persons, Philip

with the powers of the Low Countries and Spain, Henry with the whole

available strength of France, sate watching each other in entrenched

camps upon the Somme. The French king, with the recollection of St.

Quentin fresh upon him, would not risk a second such defeat. Philip

would not hazard his late advantage by forcing an action which might

lose for him all that he had gained. In the pause, the conviction came

slowly over both, that there was no need for further bloodshed, and

that the {p.313} long, weary, profitless war might at last have an

end. A mighty revolution had passed over Europe since Francis first

led an army over the Alps. The world had passed into a new era; and

the question of strength had to be tried, not any more between

Spaniard and Frenchman, but between Protestant and Catholic. Already

the disciples of Calvin threatened the Church of France; Holland was

vexing the superstition of Philip, and the Protestants in Scotland

were breaking from the hand of Mary of Guise: more and more the

Catholic princes felt the want of a general council, that the

questions of the day might be taken hold of firmly, and the

Inquisition be set to work on some resolute principle of concert.

On September 21, the emperor passed away in his retirement at St.

Just. With him perished the traditions and passions of which he was

the last representative, and a new page was turning in the history of

mankind. Essential ground of quarrel between Henry and Philip there

was none; the outward accidental ground--the claims on Milan and

Naples, Savoy and Navarre--had been rendered easy of settlement by the

conquest of Calais, and by the marriage which was consummated a few

weeks after Guise's victory, between the Dauphin and the Queen of

Scots.

Satisfied with the triumph of a policy which had annexed the crown of

Scotland to France, and with having driven the English by main

strength from their last foothold on French soil, Henry could now be

content to evacuate Savoy and Piedmont, if Philip, on his side, would

repeat the desertion of Crepy, and having brought England into the

war, would leave her to endure her own losses, or avenge them by her

single strength. With this secret meaning on the part of France, an

overture for a peace was commenced in the autumn of 1558, through the

mediation of the Duchess of Lorraine. An armistice was agreed upon,

and the first conference was held at the abbey of Cercamp, where

Arundel, Wotton, and Thirlby attended as the representatives of

England.

How far Philip would consent to an arrangement so perfidious towards

the country of which he was the nominal sovereign, depended, first, on

the life of the queen. The titular King of England could by no fiction

or pretext relieve himself of the duties which the designation imposed

upon him; and if the English were deserted their resentment would

explode in a revolution of which Mary would be the instant

victim.[654]

[Footnote 654: Renard found it necessary to warn

Philip of this, in a despatch written in October:

_Granvelle Papers_, vol. v. p. 225.]

{p.314} Mary, indeed, would soon cease to be a difficulty. She was

attacked in September by the fever which was carrying off so many of

her subjects. The fresh disease aggravated her constitutional

disorder, and her days were drawing fast to their end. But Philip's

hold on England need not perish with the death of his wife, if he

could persuade her sister to take her place. His policy, therefore,

was for the present to linger out the negotiations; to identify in

appearance his own and the English interests, and to wait the events

of the winter.

At the opening of the conference it was immediately evident that

France would not part with Calais. The English commissioners had been

ordered to take no part in the discussion, unless the restitution was

agreed on as a preliminary; and when they made their demand, Henry

replied that "he would hazard his crown rather than forego his

conquest."[655] The resolution was expressed decisively; and they saw,

or thought they saw, so much indifference in the Spanish

representatives, that they at first intended to return to England on

the spot.

[Footnote 655: Arundel, Thirlby, and Wotton to the

Council: _French MSS._, bundle 13.]

"To our minds," they wrote, "Calais is so necessary to be had again

for the quieting of the world's mind in England, and it should so much

offend and exasperate England, if any peace was made without

restitution of it, that, for our part, no earthly private commodity

nor profit could induce us thereto, nor nothing could be more grievous

to us than to be ministers therein."[656]

[Footnote 656: Ibid.]

They were on the point of departure, when a letter from Philip

required them to remain at their posts. Contrary to their expectation,

the king promised to support England in insisting on the restoration,

and his own commissioners were instructed equally to agree to nothing

unless it was conceded.[657] Thus for a time the negotiation remained

suspended till events should clear up the course which the different

parties would follow.

[Footnote 657: Philip to the English Ambassador,

October 30: Ibid.]

And these events, or the one great event, was now close, and the

shadows were drawing down over the life of the unfortunate Mary.

Amidst discontent and misery at home, disgrace and failure abroad, the

fantastic comparisons, the delirious analogies, the child which was to

be born of the Virgin Mary for the salvation of mankind--where were

now these visionary and humiliating dreams?

{p.315} On the 6th of October, the privy council were summoned to

London "for great and urgent affairs." At the beginning of November

three men and two women suffered at Canterbury. They were the last who

were put to death, and had been presented by Pole in person to be

visited "with condign punishment."[658] On the 5th, parliament met,

and the promised second subsidy was demanded, but the session was too

brief for a resolution. The queen's life, at the time of the opening,

was a question perhaps of hours, at most of days; and aware of what

was impending, Philip despatched the Count de Feria to her with a

desire that she should offer no objections to the succession of

Elizabeth.

[Footnote 658: "Condigna animadversione

plectendos."--Wilkins's _Concilia_, vol. iv.]

The count reached London on the 9th of November. He was admitted to an

interview, and the queen, too brave to repine at what was now

inevitable, and anxious to the last to please her husband, declared

herself "well content" that it should be as he wished; she entreated

only that her debts might be paid, and that "religion" should not be

changed.

Leaving Mary's deathbed, De Feria informed the council of the king's

request, and from the council hastened to the house of Lord Clinton, a

few miles from London, where Elizabeth was staying. In Philip's name,

he informed her that her succession was assured; his master had used

his influence in her favour, and no opposition need be anticipated.

Elizabeth listened graciously. That Philip's services to her, however,

had been so considerable as De Feria told her, she was unable to

allow. She admitted, and admitted thankfully, the good offices which

he had shown to her when she was at Woodstock. She was perhaps

ignorant that it was for the safety of Philip's life that her own had

been so nearly sacrificed; that Philip's interest in her succession

had commenced only when his own appeared impossible. But she knew how

narrow had been her escape; she had neither forgotten her danger, nor

ceased to resent her treatment. It was to the people of England, she

told the count, that she owed her real gratitude. The people had saved

her from destruction; the people had prevented her sister from

changing the settlement of the crown. She would be the people's queen,

and she would reign in the people's interest.

De Feria feared, from what she said, that "in religion she would not

go right." The ladies by whom she was surrounded were suspected; Sir

William Cecil, whose conformity was as transparent then as it is now,

would be her principal secretary; {p.316} and the count observed,

with a foreboding of evil, that "she had an admiration for the king

her father's mode of ruling;" and that of the legate she spoke with

cold severity.[659]

[Footnote 659: Report of the Count de Feria:

Tytler, vol. ii. p. 494. _Memorial of the Duchess

of Feria, MS._, quoted by Lingard.]

It is possible that Pole was made acquainted with Elizabeth's feelings

towards him. To himself personally, those feelings were of little

moment, for he, too, like the queen, was dying--dying to be spared a

second exile, and the wretchedness of seeing with his eyes the

dissolution of the phantom fabric which he had given the labours of

his life to build.

Yet what he did not live to behold he could not have failed to

anticipate. The spirit of Henry VIII. was rising from the grave to

scatter his work to all the winds; while he, the champion of Heaven,

the destroyer of heresy, was lying himself under a charge of the same

crime, with the pope for his accuser. Without straining too far the

licence of imagination, we may believe that the disease which was

destroying him was chiefly a broken heart. But it was painful to him

to lie under the ill opinion of the person who was so soon to be on

the throne of England; and possibly he wished to leave her, as a

legacy, the warning entreaties of a dying man.

Three days after De Feria's visit, therefore, Pole sent the Dean of

Worcester to Elizabeth with a message, the import of which is unknown;

and a short letter, as the dean's credentials, saying only that the

legate desired, before he should depart, to leave all persons

satisfied of him, and especially her grace.[660]

[Footnote 660: _Cotton. MS. Vespasian._ F. 3. The

letter is written in a shaking hand. The address is

lost, and being dated the 14th of November, while

Mary was still alive, it has been described as to

her and not to her sister. But an endorsement "From

the queen's majesty at Hatfield," leaves no doubt

to whom it was written.]

This was the 14th of November. The same day, or the day after, a

lady-in-waiting carried the queen's last wishes to her successor. They

were the same which she had already mentioned to De Feria--that her

debts should be paid, and that the Catholic religion might be

maintained, with an additional request that her servants should be

properly cared for.[661] Then, taking leave of a world in which she

had played so ill a part, she prepared, with quiet piety, for the end.

On the 16th, at midnight, she received the last rites of the church.

Towards {p.317} morning, as she was sinking, mass was said at her

bedside. At the elevation of the Host, unable to speak or move, she

fixed her eyes upon the body of her Lord; and as the last words of the

benediction were uttered, her head sunk, and she was gone.

[Footnote 661: Among the apocryphal or vaguely

attested anecdotes of the end of Mary, she is

reported to have said, that if her body was opened,

Calais would be found written on her heart. The

story is not particularly characteristic, but

having come somehow into existence, there is no

reason why it should not continue to be believed.]

A few hours later (November 17), at Lambeth, Pole followed her, and

the reign of the pope of England, and the reign of terror, closed

together.

No English sovereign ever ascended the throne with larger popularity

than Mary Tudor. The country was eager to atone to her for her

mother's injuries; and the instinctive loyalty of the English towards

their natural sovereign was enhanced by the abortive efforts of

Northumberland to rob her of her inheritance. She had reigned little

more than five years, and she descended into the grave amidst curses

deeper than the acclamations which had welcomed her accession. In that

brief time she had swathed her name in the horrid epithet which will

cling to it for ever; and yet from the passions which in general tempt

sovereigns into crime, she was entirely free: to the time of her

accession she had lived a blameless, and, in many respects, a noble

life; and few men or women have lived less capable of doing knowingly

a wrong thing.

Philip's conduct, which could not extinguish her passion for him, and

the collapse of the inflated imaginations which had surrounded her

supposed pregnancy, it can hardly be doubted, affected her sanity.

Those forlorn hours when she would sit on the ground with her knees

drawn to her face; those restless days and nights when, like a ghost,

she would wander about the palace galleries, rousing herself only to

write tear-blotted letters to her husband; those bursts of fury over

the libels dropped in her way; or the marchings in procession behind

the host in the London streets--these are all symptoms of hysterical

derangement, and leave little room, as we think of her, for other

feelings than pity. But if Mary was insane, the madness was of a kind

which placed her absolutely under her spiritual directors; and the

responsibility for her cruelties, if responsibility be anything but a

name, rests first with Gardiner, who commenced them, and, secondly,

and in a higher degree, with Reginald Pole. Because Pole, with the

council, once interfered to prevent an imprudent massacre in

Smithfield; because, being legate, he left the common duties of his

diocese to subordinates, he is not to be held innocent of atrocities

which could neither have been commenced nor continued without his

sanction; and he was notoriously the one person in the council whom

the queen {p.318} absolutely trusted. The revenge of the clergy for

their past humiliations, and the too natural tendency of an oppressed

party to abuse suddenly recovered power, combined to originate the

Marian persecution. The rebellions and massacres, the political

scandals, the universal suffering throughout the country during

Edward's minority, had created a general bitterness in all classes

against the Reformers; the Catholics could appeal with justice to the

apparent consequences of heretical opinions; and when the reforming

preachers themselves denounced so loudly the irreligion which had

attended their success, there was little wonder that the world took

them at their word, and was ready to permit the use of strong

suppressive measures to keep down the unruly tendencies of

uncontrolled fanatics.

But neither these nor any other feelings of English growth could have

produced the scenes which have stamped this unhappy reign with a

character so frightful. The parliament which re-enacted the Lollard

statutes, had refused to restore the Six Articles as being too severe;

yet under the Six Articles twenty-one persons only suffered in six

years; while, perhaps, not twice as many more had been executed under

the earlier acts in the century and a half in which they had stood on

the Statute roll. The harshness of the law confined the action of it

to men who were definitely dangerous; and when the bishops' powers

were given back to them, there was little anticipation of the manner

in which those powers would be misused.

And that except from some special influences they would not have been

thus misused, the local character of the persecution may be taken to

prove. The storm was violent only in London, in Essex, which was in

the diocese of London, and in Canterbury. It raged long after the

death of Gardiner; and Gardiner, though he made the beginning, ceased

after the first few months to take further part in it. The Bishop of

Winchester would have had a persecution, and a keen one; but the

fervour of others left his lagging zeal far behind. For the first and

last time the true Ultramontane spirit was dominant in England; the

genuine conviction that, as the orthodox prophets and sovereigns of

Israel slew the worshippers of Baal, so were Catholics rulers called

upon, as their first duty, to extirpate heretics as the enemies of God

and man.

The language of the legate to the city of London shows the devout

sincerity with which he held that opinion himself. Through him, and

sustained by his authority, the queen held it; and by these two the

ecclesiastical government of England was conducted.

{p.319} Archbishop Parker, who succeeded Pole at Canterbury, and had

therefore the best opportunity of knowing what his conduct had really

been, called him _Carnifex et flagellum Ecclesae Anglicanae_, the

hangman and the scourge of the Church of England. His character was

irreproachable; in all the virtues of the Catholic Church he walked

without spot or stain; and the system to which he had surrendered

himself had left to him of the common selfishnesses of mankind his

enormous vanity alone. But that system had extinguished also in him

the human instincts, the genial emotions by which theological theories

stand especially in need to be corrected. He belonged to a class of

persons at all times numerous, in whom enthusiasm takes the place of

understanding; who are men of an "idea;" and unable to accept human

things as they are, are passionate loyalists, passionate churchmen,

passionate revolutionists, as the accidents of their age may

determine. Happily for the welfare of mankind, persons so constituted

rarely arrive at power: should power come to them, they use it, as

Pole used it, to defeat the ends which are nearest to their hearts.

The teachers who finally converted the English nation to Protestantism

were not the declaimers from the pulpit, nor the voluminous

controversialists with the pen. These, indeed, could produce arguments

which, to those who were already convinced, seemed as if they ought to

produce conviction; but conviction did not follow till the fruits of

the doctrine bore witness to the spirit from which it came. The

evangelical teachers, caring only to be allowed to develop their own

opinions, and persecute their opponents, had walked hand in hand with

men who had spared neither tomb nor altar, who had stripped the lead

from the church roofs, and stolen the bells from the church towers;

and between them they had so outraged such plain honest minds as

remained in England, that had Mary been content with mild repression,

had she left the pope to those who loved him, and married, instead of

Philip, some English lord, the mass would have retained its place, the

clergy in moderate form would have resumed their old authority, and

the Reformation would have waited for a century. In an evil hour, the

queen listened to the unwise advisers, who told her that moderation in

religion was the sin of the Laodicaeans; and while the fanatics who had

brought scandal on the Reforming cause, either truckled, like Shaxton,

or stole abroad to wrangle over surplices and forms of prayer, the

true and the good atoned with their lives for the crimes of others,

and vindicated a noble cause by nobly dying for it.

{p.320} And while among the Reformers that which was most bright and

excellent shone out with preternatural lustre, so were the Catholics

permitted to exhibit also the preternatural features of the creed

which was expiring.

Although Pole and Mary could have laid their hands on earl and baron,

knight and gentleman, whose heresy was notorious, although in the

queen's own guard there were many who never listened to a mass,[662]

they dared not strike where there was danger that they would be struck

in return. They went out into the highways and hedges; they gathered

up the lame, the halt, and the blind; they took the weaver from his

loom, the carpenter from his workshop, the husbandman from his plough;

they laid hands on maidens and boys "who had never heard of any other

religion than that which they were called on to abjure;"[663] old men

tottering into the grave, and children whose lips could but just lisp

the articles of their creed; and of these they made their

burnt-offerings; with these they crowded their prisons, and when filth

and famine killed them, they flung them out to rot. How long England

would have endured the repetition of the horrid spectacles is hard to

say. The persecution lasted three years, and in that time something

less than 300 persons were burnt at the stake.[664] "By imprisonment,"

said Lord Burghley, "by torment, by famine, by fire, almost the number

of 400 were," in their various ways, "lamentably destroyed."

[Footnote 662: Underhill's _Narrative_.]

[Footnote 663: Burghley's _Execution of Justice_.]

[Footnote 664: The number is variously computed at

270, 280, and 290.]

Yet, as has been already said, interference was impossible except by

armed force. The country knew from the first that by the course of

nature the period of cruelty must be a brief one; it knew that a

successful rebellion is at best a calamity; and the bravest and wisest

men would not injure an illustrious cause by conduct less than worthy

of it, so long as endurance was possible. They had saved Elizabeth's

life and Elizabeth's rights, and Elizabeth, when her time came, would

deliver her subjects. The Catholics, therefore, were permitted to

continue their cruelties till the cup of iniquity was full; till they

had taught the educated laity of England to regard them with horror;

and till the Romanist superstition had died, amidst the execrations of

the people, of its own excess.

{p.321} INDEX

Abergavenny, Lord, 90, 92-6, 177.

d'Aguilar, 139.

Alexander, Mr., 296.

Alva, Duke of, 139-43, 165, 171, 210, 275, 276, 285, 292.

Annates, payment of, 239, 240.

Arnold, Sir Nicholas, 114, 260.

Arras, Bishop of, 38, 60, 61, 85, 119, 150, 155, 208.

Arundel, Lord, 13, 18, 21, 22, 28, 42, 43, 116, 171, 313, 314.

"Arundel's," 262.

Ashley, Mrs., 217.

Ashridge, Elizabeth at, 217.

Ashton, Christopher, 260-2.

Askew, Anne, 201, 202.

Astley Park, 101.

Aucher, Mr., 296.

Augsburg, Cardinal of, 190.

Aylmer, 70.

Bagenall, Sir Ralph, 170.

Baker, 308.

Baoardo's _History_, 1, 10, 20, 28, 35, 40, 92, 100, 102,

111, 112, 141-3.

Barlow, Bishop, 47.

Bath, Earl of, 11, 71.

Baynard's Castle, 18.

Bedford, Lord, 34, 83, 129, 136.

Bedingfield, Sir Henry, 11, 215.

Bedyll, 267, 268.

Bembridge, 310.

Bentham, Thos., 311.

Berkeley, Sir Maurice, 109.

Binifield, 268.

Bird, Bishop, 47.

Bishops Authority Bill, 133;

creation of new, 119;

requests to the, 176, 177;

Mary's letter to the, 212.

Blacklock, 263.

Bocher, Joan, 135.

Bonner, Edmond, 32, 47, 83, 155, 190, 197, 201, 202, 212, 223,

232, 235, 245, 246, 257, 278, 280, 311.

Bourne, Dr., 34, 37, 68, 116, 180.

Bradford, Bishop, 37, 191, 196.

Bradford, John, 220-2.

Bray, Sir Ed., 95, 268.

Brett, Captain, 95, 107-9, 114.

Bromley, Sir Thos., 46, 132.

Brookes, Bishop of Gloucester, 224.

Brown, Sir Anthony, 141.

Brydges, Sir John, 104, 112, 119, 126, 135, 178, 194, 252.

Bucer, Martin, 281.

Burghley, Lord, 320.

Burnet, referred to, 67, 118, 149, 150, 157, 189, 193, 211,

212, 281, 288, 309.

Bush, Paul, 47.

Bushing, 296.

Calais, 294-305, 314.

Caraffa, Cardinal, _see_ Paul IV.

Cardmaker, 191, 213.

Carew, Sir Gawen, 110.

Carew, Sir Peter, 11, 87-90, 120-2, 140, 157.

Castaldo, John Baptiste, 145.

Castro, Alphonse, 197.

Cathie, Catherine, 281.

Causton, Thos., 201.

Cava, meeting at, 292.

Cecil, Sir Wm., 15, 23, 161, 315.

Celi, Medina, 139.

Celibacy of clergy, 47, 70.

Cercamp, conference at, 313.

Cervino, Marcellus, 206, 210.

Champernowne, Sir Arthur, 88, 89.

Chandos, Lord, _see_ Brydges.

Chappelle, Admiral, 136.

Charles V., 24, 25, 29, 30, 51, 55-7, 67, 83, 84, 94, 110,

114-19, 144, 151, 159, 161, 218, 223.

Cheke, Sir John, 6, 15, 20.

Cheny, 70.

Cheyne, Sir Thos., 15, 16, 91, 92, 95, 96, 104, 116.

Chichester, Bishop of, _see_ Scory.

Chichester, Sir John, 88, 89, 262.

Cholmley, Judge, 28.

Christopherson, Bishop, 281.

Church property secularised, 176, 178, 179.

Clarence, Lady, 72, 216.

Clarke, George, 93.

Clinton, Lord, 23, 106, 311, 312, 315.

Cobham, Lord, 13, 90, 91, 94-6, 109, 114, 127, 164.

Cole, 253, 254.

Colebrook, meeting at, 215.

Coligny, Admiral, 290.

Commendone, Cardinal, 53, 54, 67.

_Commons Journals_, quoted, 133, 232, 239, 240.

Conquet, plundering of, 312.

Convocation, demands of the Lower House, 176, 177.

Cornwallis, Sir Thos., 97, 107, 114, 116, 123, 295.

Coronation Oath, 60.

Corry, Thos., 120.

de Courieres, 2, 83, 85.

Cotton MSS., 81, 225, 243, 306, 307.

Courtenay, Lord, 6, 24, 30, 37-9, 59, 69-71, 76, 87-91, 103, 107,

110, 113-16, 130, 131, 162, 198, 262, 272.

Coventry, 100.

Coverdale, Miles, 47, 134, 206.

Cowling Castle, 96, 164.

Cranmer, Thos., 15, 20, 48, 74, 110, 118, 134, 165, 212, 224-34,

245-59.

Crofts, Sir James, 23, 87, 102, 110, 114, 157.

Dalaber, Anthony, 203.

Daniel, John, 262, 263, 266, 268.

Darcy, 116.

Day, Bishop, 32, 47.

Debts of the Crown, 33.

Delaware, Lord, 268.

Dennys, Sir Thos., 90.

Derby, Earl of, 11, 36, 37, 71, 83, 116, 136.

Derick, 267, 268.

Desmond, Earl of, 278.

Devonshire, Earl of, 273, 274.

Dives, Louis, 296.

Doria, Andrea, 145.

Drury, Sir Wm., 11.

Dudley, Lord Ambrose, 23, 28, 74.

Dudley, Sir Andrew, 17, 40-2.

Dudley, Lord Guilford, 4, 5, 10, 74.

Dudley, Lord Henry, 12, 74.

Dudley, Sir Henry, 260, 263-7.

Dudley, Lord Robert, 23, 28.

Dunkirk, plundering of, 311.

Durham, Bishop of, 164.

Dymocke, Sir Ed., 61.

Edgecumbe, Sir Richard, 90.

Edward VI., 1-3, 35, 36.

Egmont, Count, 83, 85, 98, 115, 139, 311.

Elder, John, 141.

Elizabeth Tudor, 30-2, 57, 76-8, 93, 94, 103, 110, 114, 115,

122-31, 136, 155, 162, 199, 200, 213-19, 236, 315-320.

d'Enghien, Duc, 291.

Englefield, Sir Francis, 71, 267, 268, 308.

d'Estampes, Duke, 312.

Exeter, Marchioness of, 69.

Fagius, Paul, 281.

Famine in England, 277.

Feckenham, Abbot, 68, 111, 277.

Feria, Count de, 139, 310, 315.

Ferrars, Robert, 47, 134, 203-6.

Fitzgerald, 23.

Fitzwalter, Lord, 129.

Fitzwarren, 23.

Flanders MSS., 85.

Flower, Wm., 206.

Foxe, quoted, 16, 17, 22, 23, 48, 68, 70, 130, 173, 191, 196,

197, 200, 202, 213, 214, 216, 224, 225, 232-5, 245, 246, 253,

269, 270, 281, 282, 309.

Framlingham, 21.

Gage, Sir John, 107, 108, 116, 126, 130.

Gardiner, Stephen, 28, 30, 33, 36, 41, 47, 56-63, 72-6, 83, 89,

91-7, 103, 106, 109, 114-23, 132-5, 162, 171, 172, 175, 177,

190, 196-7, 208, 223, 237, 238.

Gates, Sir Henry, 40-2.

Gates, Sir John, 14, 40-5.

Goldwell, Thos., 81.

Gomez, Ruy, 171, 185, 186.

Gonzaga, Hernando de, 139, 145.

Goodman, 309.

Granvelle Papers, 3, 8, 13, 18, 19, 25, 27, 32, 37-9, 47, 55,

56, 61, 64, 85, 92, 97, 105, 115, 116, 119, 137, 139, 147,

150, 151, 155-7, 162, 176, 178, 179, 185, 186, 197-9, 200,

214, 216, 313.

Gravelines, Cardinal Pole at, 162.

Great Bill, the, 180-2.

Greenwich, disturbance at, 60.

Gresham, Sir Thos., 84, 139, 208, 209, 308.

Grey, Lady Jane, 4-20, 31, 39, 44, 74, 100, 110, 111.

Grey, Lord John, 87, 92, 102, 110, 178.

Grey, Lord Leonard, 87.

Grey, Lord Thomas, 87, 90, 92, 101, 102, 106, 110, 116, 135.

Grey, de Wilton, Lord, 12, 23, 28, 295-304.

Grey, Sir Arthur, 296.

_Grey Friars Chronicle_, _see_ Machyn.

Griffin, Maurice, 212.

Guise, Duke of, 285, 291, 297-305.

Guisnes, 294-9, 302, 303.

Gybbes, Mr., 88, 89.

Hambletue, 298.

Hammes, 294, 296, 299, 303.

Hampton Court, Mary at, 208;

Elizabeth at, 215.

Harding, 269.

Harleian MSS., 20, 24, 35, 42, 45, 61, 112, 127, 130, 153, 166,

170, 244, 252-4, 257, 258.

Harley, Bishop of Hereford, 67.

Harper, Sir George, 93, 95, 105, 107.

Harpsfeld, 69, 163, 212, 234, 309.

Harrington, Sir John, 263.

Hastings, Sir Ed., 11, 34, 83, 97, 114, 116, 123, 160, 162, 267.

Hastings, Lord, 163.

Hawkes, 201.

Heath, Bishop, 32, 43, 47.

Heneage, 266.

Henry of France, 24, 25, 86, 121, 138, 144, 275-7, 312, 313.

Heresy Bill, 134.

Heresy, Commission on, 280, 281.

Higbed, Thos., 201.

Hoby, Sir Philip, 24, 83.

Holgate, Archbishop, 47.

Holinshed quoted, 8, 9, 22, 98, 108, 124, 128-31, 216, 242.

Holyman, Bishop of Bristol, 224.

Hooper, Bishop, 47, 134, 190-6.

Hormolden, Edgar, 120.

Horn, Count, 115, 139.

Horsey, Ned, 262, 263.

Hot Gospeller, _see_ Underhill.

Howard, Lord Wm., 25, 85, 95, 99, 104, 108, 114, 116, 129, 136,

140, 155, 178, 198, 199, 215, 269, 271, 287.

Hunter, 201-3.

Huntingdon, Earl of, 100-2, 110, 136, 163.

Inglefield, 116.

Irish, Mr., 231.

Isly, Sir Henry, 92, 110.

Italy, Philip's invasion of, 290.

Jenkins quoted, 224, 250, 252, 253.

Jerningham, Sir Henry, 15, 93, 116, 267.

Joanna of Castile, 215.

Julius III., Pope, 53-5, 81, 148, 175, 206.

Karne, Sir Ed., 287, 288.

Keninghal, 3.

Killegrew, Henry, 272, 273.

Kingston, Sir Anthony, 193, 194, 260-2, 266.

Kingston, Wyatt at, 105.

Knight, 201.

Knox, John, 16.

Knyvet, Anthony, 93, 105-9.

Lalaing, Count de, 83, 85.

Lansdowne MSS., 21.

Latimer, Bishop, 48, 110, 118, 134, 161, 224-34.

Lawrence, 201.

Lee, Sir Henry, 233.

Leicester, rising at, 100.

Lennox, Lady, 76, 77.

Lingard, Dr., 223.

Loans, raising of, 308.

Lodge quoted, 239, 267.

Lollard statutes, 178.

London Bridge, closing of, 99, 104.

Longueville, Duke de, 291.

_Lords Journals_ quoted, 132, 135, 240.

Lorraine, Cardinal of, 208, 236.

Low Countries, campaign in, 144, 207.

Machyn, 1, 12, 28, 30, 32, 33, 85, 137, 208, 209, 219, 270, 277.

Markham, Wm., 107.

Marsh, George, 206.

Martin, Dr., 224.

Martyn, Peter, 46, 47, 231, 281.

_Mary, Chronicles of Queen_, 100, 109, 111-13, 127, 130, 153.

Mary, Queen of Scots, 79, 122.

Mason, Sir John, 13, 19, 35, 145, 161, 176, 295.

Mendoza, Diego de, 65, 139.

Merchant adventurers, loan of the, 308.

Mewtas, Sir Peter, 260.

Michele, Giovanni, 98, 241, 306.

Mildmay, Sir Walter, 308.

Mohun's Ottery, 88-90.

Money, shortage of, 239.

Mordaunt, Lord, 11.

Moreman, Dr., 70.

Montague, Judge, 28, 46.

Montague, Lord, 163, 165, 178, 236.

Montmorency, 86, 208, 210, 269, 291.

Montpensier, Duke de, 291.

Morgan, Bishop, 206.

Morone, Cardinal, 148, 149, 151.

Mortmain, Statute of, 176;

suspended, 184.

Mountain, Thos., 62.

Namur attacked, 144, 145.

Navas, Marquis delas, 138.

Newhall, 27.

Newnham Bridge, 299.

Nichols, John Gough, 6.

de Nigry, 83, 85.

Noailles referred to, 7, 12, 19, 25, 30, 36, 46, 57-9, 60-2, 67,

74, 77-80, 86, 87, 90, 92, 98, 99, 103, 114, 121, 122, 125, 129,

130, 135, 137, 138, 140, 141, 153, 154, 166, 180, 187, 192, 206,

209, 210, 214, 218, 219, 220, 222, 236, 237, 239, 241, 242, 244,

264, 265, 269, 271, 272, 285.

Norfolk, Duke of, 28, 30, 39, 93.

North, Lord, 178, 214.

Northampton, Marquis of, 23, 28, 31-42, 87, 127.

Northumberland, Duke of, 3, 11-22, 28, 31, 39-42, 43, 44.

Norton, Anthony, 90, 91.

Nowel, Alexander, 67.

Oatlands, Mary at, 219.

Oldcastle, Sir John, 96.

Oliver, Dr., 228.

Ormaneto, 150, 281, 289.

Ormond, Lord, 23, 93.

Oxford, Earl of, 18, 177, 264.

_Oxford, Annals of University of_, 282.

d'Oysel, 86, 87.

Paget, Lord, 15, 21, 28, 68, 71, 73, 76, 79, 80, 93, 103, 116,

118, 123-7, 132-5, 139, 160, 162, 197, 208, 269.

Paleano, seizure of, 275.

Pallavicino, quoted, 53, 175.

Palmer, Sir Henry, 13, 296, 297, 304.

Palmer, Sir Thomas, 13, 40-2, 45, 46.

Parker, Archbishop, 319.

Parsons, 41.

Paul IV., 210, 236, 239, 275, 287-9, 292.

Peckham, Sir Edmund, 11.

Peckham, Sir Henry, 260-4, 266-8.

Pelham, 105.

Pembroke, Earl of, 14, 16, 18-20, 36, 37, 98, 106-8, 116, 135,

154, 208, 277, 287.

Perrot, Sir John, 262.

Peto, Wm., 80, 289, 292.

Petre, Sir Wm., 6, 33, 92, 94, 114, 116, 270, 308.

Pexall, Sir Richard, 310.

Philibert of Savoy, 144, 145, 155, 162, 213, 290.

Philip of Spain, 38, 71-4, 137-42, 153, 165, 171, 185, 197, 198,

217-24, 268, 269, 303, 312-14.

Phillips, Dean of Rochester, 70.

Phillips, 223.

Philpot, Bishop, 70, 134, 234.

Pigot, 201.

Plots against Mary, 263-8.

Pole, Reginald, 51-4, 65-8, 80, 81, 147-52, 158, 159, 162-70, 178,

188-90, 206-8, 210, 212, 219-22, 231, 234, 278-80, 284, 287-90,

292, 309, 316.

Pollard, Sir Hugh, 262.

Pomfret, 136.

Ponet, Bishop, 32, 47, 105, 107, 118, 134, 165, 215.

Potter, Gilbert, 7, 10, 24.

Premunire, Act of, 184, 187.

Prideaux, John, 90.

Property of Church, 176, 178, 179.

Protestants, set-back to, 69, 70;

hanging of, 84.

Radcliff, Sir Humfrey, 105.

Rampton, Thos., 100.

Regency Bill, 185, 186.

Register introduced, 189.

Religious houses rebuilt, 243.

Religious Persecution Bills, 132.

Renard quoted, 2, 7, 8, 10, 12, 17-21, 24-6, 28-32, 36-40, 46, 47,

49, 51, 55, 57-64, 68-84, 91, 93-7, 102, 103, 106, 108-19,

122-37, 139, 147, 153-9, 162, 176, 178, 185, 186, 197-200, 214,

223.

Renty, attack on, 145.

Repeal, Act of, 179.

Rich, Lord, 18, 177.

Richmond, Mary at, 137.

Ridley, Bishop, 16, 23, 28, 32, 46, 47, 68, 110, 118, 134, 190,

191, 224-34.

Rochester, Sir Robert, 71, 116, 135, 192, 267.

Rochester, rising at, 93.

Rogers, Canon, 190-2.

_Rolls House MSS._, 6, 10-12, 15, 17, 20, 21, 26, 28, 30, 37, 39,

40, 46, 47, 49, 51, 57-61, 64, 67-9, 70-4, 78-80, 83-4, 86, 91, 93,

94, 97, 102, 103, 106, 108, 110, 114-19, 123, 127, 128, 133, 135.

Rome, supplication to, 172.

Rosey, 266-8.

Russell, Lord, 37, 122, 178.

Rutland, Earl of, 300, 301.

Rymer quoted, 82.

Rysbank, 298-300.

St. Andre, Marshal, 291.

St. Leger, Sir Anthony, 63.

St. Lowe, Sir Wm., 114.

St. Mary Overy, Church of, 190.

St. Quentin, battle of, 290, 291.

Salkyns quoted, 165.

Sandars, Laurence, 134, 191, 195.

Sanders, Ninian, 7.

Sandgate, 299.

Sandys, Edwin, 16, 21, 22, 28.

Scarborough, occupation of, 286, 287.

Scheyfne, 2, 6, 15.

Schoolboys, fight between, 122.

Scory, Bishop, 32, 47.

Scot, Bishop, 281.

Senarpont, 276, 297, 312.

Shrewsbury, Earl of, 19, 71, 116, 136, 140, 141, 154, 164, 239, 309.

Sidney, Sir Henry, 23.

Simson, Cuthbert, 309.

Six Articles, the, 318.

Skelton, Sir John, 11.

Sloane MSS., 286.

Smith, Benet, 242.

Smith, Sir Thos., 287, 309, 310.

Somerset, Duchess of, 30.

Soto, P., 231, 232.

Southwell, Sir R., 90-6, 104, 116.

Stafford, Sir Thos., 286, 287.

Stanley, Sir George, 62.

Stanton, Captain, 268.

Story, Dr., 224.

Stourton, Lord, 178.

Stow quoted, 130.

Strangways, 264, 265.

Strozzi, Pietro, 144.

Strype quoted, 36, 48, 49, 63, 94, 137, 208, 221, 222, 243, 280,

286-90, 309-11.

Subsidy Bill, 239, 240.

Succession, question of the, 68, 132, 182, 185, 186, 199, 200,

214, 218.

Suffolk, Duchess of, 76, 77, 102.

Suffolk, Duke of, 19, 20, 31, 87, 92-100, 110, 114, 157.

Sussex, Earl of, 11, 71, 116, 123-7, 136.

Swift, Robert, 267, 268.

Talbot, Lord, 239.

Tanner MSS., 21, 62, 107, 238, 241.

Tate, Richard, 164.

Taylor, Bishop, 67, 134.

Taylor, Rowland, 191, 195.

de Thermes, 311, 312.

Thirlby, Bishop, 69, 245, 246, 280, 313, 314.

Thomas, Wm., 105, 114.

Thornton, Bishop, 212.

Throgmorton, Sir Nicholas, 87, 88, 114, 131, 132, 266.

Throgmortons, the, 264.

Toledo, Antonio de, 139.

Tomkins, 197, 201.

Treason, Act of, 69.

Tregonwell, Dr., 67.

Tremayne, Edmund, 129.

Tremaynes of Colacombe, the, 262, 264.

Tucker, Lazarus, 84.

Tunstal, Cuthbert, 32, 47, 92, 190.

Tytler quoted, 80, 116, 131, 136, 160, 162, 316.

Underhill, Ed., 33, 61, 105, 320.

Uvedale, 264-7.

Valles, Marquis de los, 139.

Vannes, Peter, 273, 274.

Vaughan, Cuthbert, 131.

Villegaignon, Admiral, 87.

Waldegrave, Sir Ed., 71, 83, 116, 267, 268, 308.

Walpole, 267.

Warne, 213.

Warner, Sir Edmund, 87, 90.

Warwick, Earl of, 39-43.

Watson, Bishop, 281.

Watson, Dr., 41, 46, 70.

Wentworth, Lord, 116, 162, 178, 296-300.

Westmoreland, Lord, 154, 177, 264, 287.

Weston, Dr., 36, 70, 103, 130, 134, 176.

Wharton, Lord, 11.

White, Bishop, 224.

White, Rawlins, 206.

White, Thomas, 266, 267.

Wight, Isle of, 122, 264.

Wilkins quoted, 177, 315.

Wilkinson, Mrs., 229.

Williams, Lord, of Thame, 15, 119, 178, 232, 233, 252, 258, 259, 261.

Willoughby, Lord, 264.

Winchester, Bishop of, _see_ Ponet.

Winchester, Marquis of, 9, 16, 116, 124, 136, 178.

Windsor, Lord, 83.

Woodhouse, Sir Wm., 302, 303.

Woodstock, Elizabeth at, 136, 137, 155, 215.

Worcester, Dean of, 316.

Worcester, Lord, 107, 178.

"Worthies, the nine," 153.

Wotton, Dr., 80, 86, 121, 140, 144, 147, 260, 267, 271-6, 285,

286, 313, 314.

Wyatt, Sir Thos., 23, 87-114, 122, 123, 130, 131, 189.

Young, 70.

The reign of Mary Tudor · 第 32 / 33 题