(1533-1603)
[Illustration: Elizabeth I. [TN]]
If the question respecting the equality of the sexes was to be
determined by an appeal to the characters of sovereign princes, the
comparison is, in proportion, manifestly in favor of woman, and that
without having recourse to the trite and flippant observation, proved to
have been ill-founded, of male and female influence. Elizabeth of
England affords a glorious example in truth of this position.
Daughter of Henry VIII., a capricious tyrant, and of the imprudent and
unfortunate Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth was born at Greenwich, on the banks
of the Thames, September 7, 1533. Her infancy was unfortunate through
the unhappy fate of her mother, but she was nevertheless educated with
care and attention; in her yet infant faculties her father had the
discernment to perceive uncommon strength and promise. Lady Champernoun,
an accomplished and excellent woman, was appointed by Henry governess
to the young princess. It appears to have been the custom of the times
to instruct young women in the learned languages, an admirable
substitute for fashionable and frivolous acquisitions; habits of real
study and application have a tendency to strengthen the faculties and
discipline the imagination. Mr. William Grindal was Elizabeth's first
classical tutor; with him she made a rapid progress. From other masters
she received the rudiments of modern languages; at eleven years of age
she translated out of French verse into English prose "The Mirror of the
Sinful Soul," which she dedicated to Catherine Parr, sixth wife to Henry
VIII. At twelve years of age she translated from the English into Latin,
French, and Italian, prayers and meditations, etc., collected from
different authors by Catherine, Queen of England. These she dedicated to
her father, December 30, 1545; MS. in the royal library at Westminster.
She also, about the same period, translated from the French "The
Meditations of Margaret, Queen of Navarre, etc.," published by Bale,
1548.
Mr. Ascham thus speaks of Elizabeth in a letter to Sir John Cheke: "It
can scarcely be credited to what degree of skill in the Latin and Greek
she might arrive, if she should proceed in that course of study wherein
she hath begun by the guidance of Grindal." In 1548 she had the
misfortune to lose her tutor, who died of the plague. At this time, it
is observed by Camden, that she was versed in the Latin, French,
Spanish, and Italian tongues, had some knowledge of the Greek, was well
skilled in music, and both sung and played with art and sweetness.
After the death of her father, her brother, King Edward, who tenderly
loved her, encouraged her in her studies and literary pursuits, while,
without imposition or restraint, he left her to choose her own
principles and preceptors. To supply the loss of her tutor she addressed
herself to the celebrated Roger Ascham, who, at her solicitation, left
Cambridge and consented to become her instructor. Under him she read the
orations of AEschines, and Demosthenes' "On the Crown," in Greek, and
understood at first sight not only the force and propriety of the
language and the meaning of the orator, but the whole scheme of the
laws, customs, and manners of the Athenians. By Doctor Grindal,
professor of theology, she was initiated into the subtleties of polemic
divinity, to which she gave assiduous application. Such, during the
short reign of her brother, was the laudable and tranquil time of her
life, and by these occupations and pursuits she was prepared for the
great part she was to act on the theatre of Europe.
In July, 1553, Mary, after the death of Edward, succeeded to the throne;
and having received from her sister many favors and testimonies of
esteem, she treated her at first with a form of regard; but Elizabeth
was afterward imprisoned and harshly treated, even to the hazard of her
life. Her sufferings were, however, mitigated by the interposition of
Philip, the husband of Mary, for which she was ever grateful.
The reign, the bigotry, and the butchery of Mary, who, _to do God
service_, amused herself by burning and torturing her people, lasted
five years and four months. She died, fortunately for the nation,
November 17, 1558. A parliament had been assembled a few days previous
to her death, to which the chancellor notified the event. "God save
Queen Elizabeth," resounded in joyful acclamations through both houses,
while by the people a transport still more general and fervent was
expressed.
The commencement of her reign was not less auspicious than its duration
was prosperous to the country and glorious to herself. It is observed by
Bayle that to say only that no woman reigned with more glory would be
saying little. "It must be added that there have been but few great
kings whose reigns are comparable to hers, it being the most beautiful
period of English history."
Elizabeth when informed of the death of her sister, was at Hatfield,
whence, after a few days, she proceeded to London, through crowds of
people, who contended with each other in testimonies of joy and
attachment. On entering the Tower she was affected with the comparison
of her past and present situation; once a captive, exposed to the
bigotry and malignity of her enemies, now a sovereign, triumphant over
her adversaries, and the hope and joy of the nation. Falling on her
knees she expressed her gratitude to heaven for the deliverance she had
experienced from her persecutors, a deliverance, she declared, not less
miraculous than that of Daniel from the den of lions. With a magnanimity
that did her honor, and a prudence that evinced her judgment, she threw
a veil over every offence that had been committed against her, and
received graciously and with affability the most virulent of her
enemies.
On the death of her sister, Elizabeth had, by her ambassador, signified
her accession to the Pope, whose precipitate temper, insolent
reflections, and extravagant demands, determined her to persevere in the
plan she had already secretly embraced. While, to conciliate the
Catholics she retained in her cabinet eleven of her sister's
counsellors, she took care to balance their power by adding to their
number eight partisans of the Protestant faith; among whom were Sir
Nicholas Bacon, whom she created lord keeper, and Sir William Cecil,
made Secretary of State.
Cecil assured her that the greater part of the nation, since the reign
of her father, inclined to the reformation, though constrained to
conceal their principles by the cruelties practised under the late
reign. These arguments, to which other considerations and reasonings
were added, founded on policy and on a knowledge of mankind, had their
just weight with Elizabeth, and determined her to adopt the party which
education and political wisdom equally inclined to her favor. Yet she
wisely resolved to proceed gradually by safe and progressive steps. As
symptoms of her future intentions, and with a view of encouraging the
Protestants, whom persecution had discouraged and depressed, she
recalled all the exiles, and gave liberty to those who had, on account
of their religion, been confined in prison. She also altered the
religious service, and gave orders that the Lord's prayer, the litany,
the creed, and the gospels, should be read in the churches in the vulgar
tongue; and she forbade the elevation of the host in her presence.
The bishops, foreseeing in these measures the impending change, refused
to officiate at her coronation; and it was not without difficulty that
the Bishop of Carlisle was at length prevailed upon to perform the
ceremony. Amid the joyful acclamations of her subjects, as she was
conducted through London, a boy, personating Truth, let down from a
triumphal arch, presented to her a copy of the Bible. She received the
present graciously, placed it near her heart, and declared that of all
the costly testimonies of attachment given to her that day by the city,
this was the most precious and acceptable. Elizabeth insinuated herself
into the affections of the people by the most laudable art; frank in her
address, and on all public occasions affable, conciliating, and easy of
access, she appeared delighted with the concourse that crowded around
her; entered, without forgetting her dignity, into the pleasures and
amusements of her subjects, and acquired a popularity unknown to her
predecessors. Her youth, her graces, her prudence, her fortitude, and
her talents, attracted the admiration of one sex and afforded to the
other a subject of pride and triumph. Individuals were captivated by her
complacency, the public won by her services, while her authority,
chastened by religion and law, appeared to be derived from its
legitimate source, the choice and affections of the people.
The Commons entreated her, with all humility, that she would make choice
of a husband to share with her the weight of government, a request which
they hoped, from her sex and age, would not be displeasing or offensive.
To this Elizabeth replied, that as their application was expressed in
general terms, merely recommending marriage, without pretending to
direct her choice, she could not be offended or regard their wishes
otherwise than as a new instance of their attachment toward her; but
that any farther interposition respecting this subject, on their part,
it would ill become them as subjects to make, or her, as an independent
princess, to endure. England was the husband which she had betrothed to
her; Englishmen were her children; while employed in rearing and
governing such a family, she could not deem herself sterile or her life
useless. She desired, for her own part, no higher character, nor fairer
remembrance of her to be transmitted to posterity, than to have this
inscription, when she should pay the debt of nature, engraven on her
tomb: "Here lies Queen Elizabeth, who lived and died a maiden queen."
Misfortune threw the Queen of Scots into the power of Elizabeth, and she
was denied those services to which the unfortunate are entitled. Driven
beyond endurance, she openly and bitterly defied her more fortunate
rival, who viewed her with jealousy as heir to the crown, and was
fearful that her beauty and influence might supplant her own popularity.
Mary was kept in prison eighteen years and then executed on the
scaffold. This transaction will ever remain a foul blot on the character
of Elizabeth.
[Illustration: Elizabeth defied by Mary Stuart.]
Neither the cares of government nor the infirmities of approaching age
weaned her from the love of letters, which at every interval of leisure
were her great delight. When nearly sixty years of age, in 1592, she
made a second visit to Oxford, where, having been entertained with
orations, disputations, etc., she pronounced on her departure, a Latin
oration to the vice-chancellors and doctors, when she took her last
farewell of the university. In the ensuing year she translated from
Latin into English, Boethius's "De Consolatione Philosophae." In 1598,
when the disturbances in Ireland occupied a considerable share of her
attention, she translated Sallust's "De bello Jugurthino," also the
greater part of Horace's "De Arte Poetica," and Plutarch's book, "De
Curiositate," all of which were written in her own hand.
But Elizabeth no longer took an interest in public concerns; her sun was
setting, overshadowed by a dark cloud. Prosperity and glory palled upon
her sense; an incurable melancholy had fixed itself on her heart. The
anxiety of her mind made swift ravages upon her feeble frame; the period
of her life visibly approached. The Archbishop of Canterbury advised her
to fix her thoughts on God. She did so, she replied, nor did her mind in
the least wander from Him. Her voice and her senses soon after failing,
she fell into a lethargic slumber, which having continued some hours,
she expired gently, without a struggle, March 24, 1603, in the
seventieth year of her age and the forty-fifth of her reign.
The character of Elizabeth appears to have been exalted by her friends
and depreciated by her enemies, in nearly equal proportions. As a
monarch, her activity and force of mind, her magnanimity, sagacity,
prudence, vigilance, and address, have scarcely been surpassed in royal
annals, and are worthy of the highest admiration. Pope Sixtus V. spoke
of her on all occasions as "a woman with a strong head," and gave her a
place among the three persons who only, in his opinion, deserved to
reign; the remaining two were himself and Henry IV. of France. "Your
queen," said he once to an Englishman, "is born fortunate; she governs
her kingdom with great happiness; she wants only to be married to me to
give the world a second Alexander."
Her temper and her talents equally fitted her for government. Capable of
self-command, and of controlling her own passions, she acquired an
unlimited ascendency over those of her people. She possessed courage
without temerity; spirit, resource, and activity in war, with the love
of peace and tranquillity. Her frugality was exempt from avarice, it was
the result rather of her love of independence than a passion for
accumulation. She never amassed any treasures. Her friendships were
uniform and steady, yet she was never governed by her favorites--a
criterion of a strong mind. Her choice in her ministers gave proof of
her sagacity, as her constancy in supporting them did of her firmness.
If a conduct less rigorous, less imperious, and more indulgent would
have thrown greater lustre over her character, let it be remembered that
some good qualities appear to be incompatible with others; nor let the
seductive and corrupting nature of power be left out in the account. Her
insincerity was perhaps the greatest blot in her character and the
fruitful source of all the vexatious incidents of her reign. Though
unacquainted with philosophical toleration, the only method of disarming
the turbulence of religious factions, she yet preserved her people, by
her prudence and good sense, from those theological disputes which
desolated the neighboring nations.
Beset with enemies, both at home and abroad, among the most powerful
princes in Europe, the most enterprising and the least scrupulous, the
vigor of her administration enabled her to defeat all their purposes,
to annoy and plunder them in their own dominions, and to preserve her
own dignity untouched and unimpaired. Few monarchs have succeeded to a
throne in more difficult circumstances, nor have any ever reigned with
more uniform success and prosperity.
If, as a woman, cut off by the peculiarities of her situation from the
sympathies of nature and the charm of equal affections, Elizabeth, at
times suffered under these privations, which even gave to her
sensibility additional force and acuteness, the strength of her reason
still triumphed over her passions, and the struggle which her victories
cost her served but to display the firmness of her resolution and the
loftiness of her mind.
The praises which have by some been bestowed upon Elizabeth for her
regard for the constitution and tender concern for the liberties of the
people, are wholly without foundation. Few princes have exerted with
more arbitrary power the regal prerogatives which had been transmitted
to her by her immediate predecessors; yet no censure belongs to her for
this conduct, in the principles of which she had been trained and of the
justice of which she was persuaded. What potentate, what man, has
voluntarily resigned the power in which those beneath him quietly
acquiesced? Compared with the reigns of her father and sister, that of
Elizabeth might be termed a golden age.