ermine, was carried by one of her godmothers, the dowager duchess of
Norfolk. This lady was the step-grandmother of Ann Boleyn; but the high
distinction afforded, too shortly, but little cause of exultation. And
equally melancholy was the termination of that closer alliance with
royalty, which was formed for her, in the person of her own
grand-daughter, Catherine Howard. On the discovery of this queen’s
ill-conduct, the aged duchess was declared guilty of misprision of
treason, and, overwhelmed with disgrace, was committed to custody; but
she was afterwards released, when Catherine had expiated her follies and
vices on the scaffold. Nor less exempt from trial was the other
godmother at the font, the dowager marchioness of Dorset. Her
grand-daughter, lady Jane Grey, perished by an ignominious death. Three
of her sons shared the same fate; and the fourth died, during the reign
of Elizabeth, a prisoner in the Tower, in which he had been confined,
for the offence of distributing a pamphlet, asserting the title of the
Suffolk line to the crown.
“The marchioness of Exeter, the other godmother at the font, not only
wept over the untimely end of her husband; and her only son wasting the
flower of his youth in a tedious captivity; but she herself was
attainted of high treason, some time afterwards, and underwent a long
and arbitrary imprisonment.
“On either hand of the duchess of Norfolk, walked the dukes of Norfolk
and Suffolk; the only nobles of that rank then existing in England. On
every public and important occasion, both civil and military, their
united names appear during the reign of Henry the Eighth; but the
termination of their respective careers forms a striking contrast. The
duke of Suffolk was ever regarded with the same favour, which he had
gained as Charles Brandon, the jocund companion of his royal master’s
youthful exercises. Nor did his marriage with the king’s sister, involve
him in either troubles or misfortunes; and he did not live to witness
those which overwhelmed his grand-daughter. He died in peace, sincerely
lamented by his sovereign.
“Very different was the treatment which the duke of Norfolk received
from the king. His high birth, and powerful connexions, created fears in
Henry’s mind, for the tranquillity and safety of his son, the virtuous
Edward the Sixth. The former services of his faithful and noble servant
were overlooked, and sacrificed to his present alarm. With almost his
last breath he decreed the death of Norfolk. But even Henry was no
longer absolute: his orders were this time disobeyed, and the duke
survived him. He, however, suffered a long and tedious captivity; and
lived but a short time after his tardy restoration to liberty and
honour, under Mary.
“One of the infant’s train-bearers, was the countess of Kent. If she
were, as is probable, the widow of the second earl of that title, she
must have been the daughter of the earl of Pembroke, a zealous Yorkist,
who was slain fighting in the cause of Edward the Fourth.
“Thomas Boleyn, earl of Wiltshire, the proud and delighted grandfather
of the princely babe, supported the train on one side. He lived to
witness the cruel and disgraceful end of his son and daughter, and died
long before the prosperous days of his illustrious grandchild.
“Edward Stanly, third earl of Derby, formed an exception to this train
of ill-fated nobles. Educated by Wolsey, whose ward he was, he proved
himself a faithful subject to four succeeding sovereigns; and, in the
most disturbed times, stood firm in his unshaken loyalty. Full of years
and honours, and rich in hereditary distinctions, he died, universally
esteemed, in 1574.
“Four lords, three of whom met with disastrous fate, supported the
canopy over the royal infant. One was her uncle, the accomplished
viscount Rochford, who suffered death by the tyranny of Henry, for a
crime of which he is now most fully acquitted. Another was lord Hussey,
who expiated the crime of rebellion on the scaffold, a few years
afterwards. The two others were brothers, of the family of the
illustrious but unfortunate Howards.
“Lord William, uncle to Catherine Howard, was unjustly condemned to
perpetual imprisonment and forfeiture of goods, for not exposing her
misconduct; but the sentence was afterwards remitted. He lived to be
eminent in the next reign, under the title of lord Howard of Effingham,
and died peacefully, in a venerable age.
“The ambition of lord Thomas was the cause of his sufferings. He married
the lady Margaret Douglas, niece to the king, and on the discovery of
which he was committed to the Tower, where he died in close
imprisonment.
“The ceremony of christening was performed by Stokely, bishop of London,
attended by several abbots and bishops mitred; and the benediction was
pronounced by Cranmer, that learned and distinguished prelate, whose
virtues, whose weaknesses, whose general benevolence and holy faith,
exhibited amidst the flames of martyrdom, have rendered him a
distinguished character in the history of this eventful reign.
“At the conclusion of the ceremonies, garter king-at-arms cried aloud:
‘God, of his infinite goodness, send prosperous life and long, to the
high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth.’ The trumpets then
sounded a flourish, and the party prepared to retrace their steps to the
palace.
“In the return from church, the gifts of the sponsors, consisting of
bowls and cups, some gilded, and others of massy gold, were carried by
four persons of quality, _viz_: Thomas Somerset, second earl of
Worcester; Thomas Ratcliff, lord Fitzwalter, afterwards earl of Sussex;
and Sir John Dudley, son of the detested associate of Empson, and
afterwards the notorious duke of Northumberland; whose crimes received,
at length, their due recompence in that ignominious death, to which his
guilty and extravagant projects had conducted so many comparatively
innocent victims.”
When Mr. Wilmot had finished his narration, Mrs. Spencer remarked, that,
by the untimely death of Ann Boleyn, the infant princess became a
partaker of some of the trouble that involved so many of the
distinguished individuals who attended this august ceremony.
“Yes,” said Mr. Wilmot; “and there are some curious extracts extant,
respecting the petty mortifications she was destined to endure in
childhood, whilst the subject of her legitimacy was left unsettled.
Passing over these, however, I shall give the girls a short account of
the pursuits that engrossed her youth, and which is taken from some
writings of the celebrated Roger Ascham.
“This gentleman says: ‘The lady Elizabeth has completed her sixteenth
year; and so much solidity and understanding, such courtesy united with
dignity, have never been observed at so early an age. She has the most
ardent love of true religion, and of the best kind of literature. The
constitution of her mind is exempt from female weakness; and she is
endued with a masculine power of application. No apprehension can be
quicker than hers, no memory more retentive. French and Italian she
speaks like English; Latin with fluency, propriety, and judgment: she
also spoke Greek with me frequently, willingly, and moderately well.
Nothing can be more elegant than her handwriting, whether in the Greek
or Roman characters. In music she is very skilful, but does not greatly
delight.
“‘With respect to personal decorations, she greatly prefers a simple
elegance to show and splendour; so despising the outward adorning of
plaiting the hair, and of wearing gold, that, in her whole manner of
life, she greatly prefers Hippolyta than Phædra.
“‘She read with me almost the whole of Cicero, and a great part of Livy:
from these two writers, her knowledge of the Latin language has been
exclusively derived. The beginning of the day was almost always devoted
by her to the New Testament, in Greek; after which, she read select
orations of Isocrates, and the tragedies of Sophocles. For her religious
instruction, she drew first from the fountains of Scripture, and
afterwards from St. Cyprian, the common-places of Melancthon, and
similar works, which contain pure doctrine in simple language.’”
Mrs. Spencer remarked, that Ascham’s account of Elizabeth’s simplicity
in dress was singular, when contrasted with the love of magnificence and
show, which she displayed in after life.
“And yet,” replied Mr. Wilmot, “his testimony is corroborated by that of
Dr. Elmer, or Aylmer, who was tutor to lady Jane Grey and her sisters,
and became, subsequently, during Elizabeth’s reign, bishop of London. He
thus draws her character, when young, in a work entitled, ‘A Harbour for
faithful Subjects.’
“‘The king left her rich clothes and jewels; and I know it to be true,
that, in seven years after her father’s death, she never, in all that
time, looked upon that rich attire and precious jewels, but once, and
that against her will. And that there never came gold or stone on her
head, till her sister forced her to lay off her former soberness, and
bear her company in her glittering gayness. And then she so wore it, as
every man might see that her body carried that which her heart disliked.
I am sure that her maidenly apparel, in king Edward’s time, made the
noblemen’s wives and daughters to be ashamed to be dressed and painted
like peacocks; being more moved with her most virtuous example, than
with all that Peter or Paul wrote on the subject. Yea, this I know, that
a great man’s daughter, lady Jane Grey, receiving from lady Mary, before
she was queen, good apparel of tinsel, cloth of gold, and velvet, laid
on with parchment lace of gold, when she saw it, said: ‘What shall I do
with it?’ ‘Marry!’ said a gentlewoman, ‘wear it.’ ‘Nay,’ quoth she,
‘that were a shame to follow my lady Mary, against God’s word.’ And when
all the ladies, at the coming of the Scots queen dowager, Mary of Guise,
(she who visited England in Edward’s time,) went with their hair
frownsed, curled, and double curled, she altered nothing, but kept her
old-maidenly shamefacedness.’
“Whatever Elizabeth’s subsequent taste in dress might have been, it is
evident, that at this period she strictly conformed to the rigid turn of
sentiment which prevailed in young Edward’s reign. Miss Aikin tells us,
that there is a print, from the portrait of her when young, in which the
hair is without a single ornament, and the whole dress remarkably plain.
“But I must leave this interesting part of Elizabeth’s character, and
proceed to the time when the insurrection by Wyatt, of which I have
formerly spoken, was made a pretext for confining her person within the
Tower.
“Three of the queen’s council were dispatched to Ashbridge, to summon
her to London; and with such rigour did they execute their commission,
that, although on their arrival late at night, they found her confined
to her bed with illness, they not only insisted upon seeing her at this
time, but, ere the lady to whom they had given their message could
deliver it, they rudely burst into the room of the princess, and
informed her, that, ‘alive or dead,’ they must carry her with them.
“That Elizabeth had conducted herself with great amiability, may be
inferred from the grief with which her servants saw her depart. They
naturally anticipated, from the severity of the proceedings, the worst
that could befall their youthful mistress. And, in so weak a state was
the afflicted princess, that she was obliged to rest four nights, in a
journey of twenty-four miles.
After the residence of a few days at Hampton Court, she was conducted to
the Tower privately, by the earl of Sussex and another lord, three of
her own ladies, three of the queen’s, and some of her own officers.
“Holinshed has preserved some curious and characteristic traits of her
conduct, which I shall relate to you, in nearly his own words.
“On reaching the place of her destination, she at first refused to land
at the traitors’ gate, which, when one of the uncourteous lords heard,
he replied, that ‘she should not choose;’ offering her, at the same
time, his cloak, to protect her from the rain; ‘which she, putting it
back with her hand, with a good dash, refused.’
“Setting her foot upon the stairs, she said: ‘Here landeth as true a
subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs; and before
thee, O God! do I speak it, having none other friends but thee alone.’
To whom the same lord answered again: ‘That, if it were so, it was the
better for her.’
“Observing a multitude of servants and warders standing in order to
receive her, she said: ‘What needed all this?’ Being informed that it
was customary, on receiving a prisoner: ‘If it be,’ said she, ‘for my
cause, I beseech you that they may be dismissed.’ Whereupon, the poor
men knelt down, and, with one voice, prayed God to preserve her; for
which action they all lost their places the next day.
“Passing on a little further, she sat down upon a stone, and there
rested herself; upon which the lieutenant, expressing his fears upon her
account, and begging her to come in from the rain, she replied: ‘Better
sitting here, than in a worse place; for God knoweth, I know not whither
you will bring me.’ On seeing her gentleman-usher in tears, she reproved
him, telling him, he ought rather to be her comforter, and not to dismay
her; especially since she knew her truth to be such, that no man should
have cause to weep for her. Then rising, she entered into her prison,
the doors being locked and bolted upon her.
“This last act of severity seems exceedingly to have distressed the
princess; but, calling for her book, she devoutly prayed that she ‘might
be suffered to build her house upon the rock, whereby the blasts of the
blustering weather should have no power upon her.’
“The confinement of the princess in the Tower, was purposely rendered as
irksome and comfortless as possible. It was not till after a month’s
close confinement, by which her health had suffered materially, that,
after many entreaties, she gained permission to walk in the royal
apartments, accompanied by the lord chamberlain, and three of her
gentlewomen; the windows being shut, and she not permitted to look out
of them. Afterwards, she had liberty to walk in a small garden, the
doors and gates being shut; and the other prisoners being closely
guarded during the time, and strictly commanded not to look from out of
the windows, or to speak.
[Illustration:
Page 112.
Page 129.]
“Even a child of five years old, belonging to some inferior officer in
the Tower, who was wont to visit her daily, and to carry her flowers,
was suspected of being employed as a messenger between her and the earl
of Devonshire; was strictly examined by the lord chamberlain; and,
notwithstanding his youth and simplicity, ordered not to visit her
again. The child answering, that ‘he would bring his lady and mistress
more flowers,’ he was threatened with a whipping if he did not desist.
The next day, as the princess was walking in the garden, the boy,
peeping in through a hole in the door, cried out, ‘Mistress, I can bring
you no more flowers;’ whereat she smiled, but said nothing.
Nevertheless, the lord chamberlain hearing the circumstance, severely
rebuked his father, and ordered him to send him from home.
“Her confinement in the Tower lasted for some time. She was afterwards
removed to Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, and retained in a kind of
honourable captivity, till the death of her sister Mary set her free.
“This event took place on November the nineteenth, 1558; and, on the
twenty-third of the same month, Elizabeth, now become queen, set forward
for her capital, attended by about a hundred nobles, knights, gentlemen,
and ladies; and took up her abode, for the present, at the Chartreux, or
Charter-house, formerly a considerable monastery, but dissolved in the
reign of Henry the Eighth, and then the residence of lord North; a
splendid pile, which offered ample accommodation for a royal retinue.
“Her next removal, according to ancient custom, was to the Tower. On
this occasion, the loyalty and gallantry of the English nation were
fully displayed. Pageants and endless devices attracted her attention on
all sides: singers and musicians lent their aid; and, more than all, the
air was rent with the joyful acclamations of her enraptured subjects,
as, preceded by her heralds and great officers, the maiden queen,
gratified and affected by the homage that a brave and generous nation
offered up, expressed her grateful sense of it by holding up her hands,
with a pleased countenance, to those who were at a distance from her,
and by the ‘most tender and gentle language to those who stood near.’
One simple act of kindness was noticed with peculiar commendation. A
branch of rosemary given her with a petition, by a poor woman in
Fleet-bridge, was seen in her chariot till she came to Westminster. Nor
was her reception of the English Bible, which was presented to her in
Cheapside, less grateful to the feelings of her people, still bearing in
remembrance the persecutions they had received. She not only took it
reverently in her hands, but kissed it, and laid it on her bosom;
assuring the citizens of her high sense of its value, and that she
should read it most diligently.
“I do not think,” said Mr. Wilmot, “that I can conclude these extracts
from Holinshed better, than by quoting Miss Aikin’s remarks upon this
part of Elizabeth’s life; concluding with the prayer she offered, which
has been preserved by the careful chronicler.
“‘With what vivid, and what affecting impressions, (says this lady,) of
the vicissitudes attending on the great, must she have passed again
within the antique walls of that fortress, once her dungeon, now her
palace. She had entered it by the traitors’ gate, a terrified and
defenceless prisoner, smarting under many wrongs, hopeless of
deliverance, and apprehending nothing less than an ignominious death.
She returned to it in all the pomp of royalty, surrounded by the
ministers of her power, ushered in by the applauses of her people, the
cherished object of every eye, the idol of every heart.
“‘Devotion could alone supply becoming language to the emotions which
swelled her bosom; and, no sooner had she reached the royal apartments,
than, falling on her knees, she returned humble and hearty thanks in the
following prayer.
“‘O Lord Almighty and everlasting God, I give thee most hearty thanks,
that thou hast been so merciful to me as to spare me to behold this
joyful day. And I acknowledge that thou hast dealt as wonderfully and as
mercifully with me, as thou didst with thy true and faithful servant
Daniel, thy prophet, whom thou deliveredst out of the den, from the
cruelty of the greedy and raging lions; even so was I overwhelmed, and
only by thee delivered. To thee, therefore, only be thanks, honour, and
praise, for ever. Amen.’
“And now, having conducted Elizabeth to this triumphant moment of her
life, we will leave the subject this morning,” said Mr. Wilmot, “and
renew it to-morrow.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAP. VII.
----------
“THAT Elizabeth was a woman endowed with a masculine mind,” said Mr.
Wilmot, “that she was prudent, wise, and energetic to an extraordinary
degree, and that she deserves to be ranked amongst the most illustrious
of sovereigns, cannot be denied; and yet, contrary to Roger Ascham’s
assertions, respecting her early simplicity, we find her, after
ascending the throne, uniting to all this greatness of character, a
vanity so unbounded, and a love of admiration so childish and weak, that
we start at the contrast and inconsistency, displayed at times by this
wonderful female.
“Contemporary historians have left on record several descriptions of the
public festivities then in fashion; and though it must be allowed, that
the spirit of the age fostered this romantic turn of disposition; yet we
can hardly help mingling a smile of ridicule, with our admiration of the
loftier traits of her mind, when we peruse the accounts of the
entertainments with which the queen was wont to be amused, even to a
late period of life. Holinshed, with his usual minuteness, has entered
very fully into the relation of these festivities; and I shall abridge,
for your amusement, one of the many narrations he presents us with.
“In one of her progresses, which were very frequent, she stopped at
Norwich, where she was received by the mayor and corporation, with every
demonstration of joy, and with a variety of orations and most doggrel
rhyme.
“Two days after her arrival, Mercury, in a blue satin doublet, lined
with cloth of gold, his garments ‘cut and slashed in the finest manner,’
with a peaked hat of the same colour, as though it would cut and sever
the wind asunder; and on the same, a pair of wings, and wings at his
feet, in a coach, most extraordinarily painted with birds and naked
spirits, hanging by the heels in the air and clouds, and with horses
winged and painted, appeared at her window, and invited her to go
abroad, and see more shows; and a kind of mask, in which Venus and
Cupid, with wantonness and riot, were discomfited, in no very gentle
manner, by the goddess of Chastity and her attendants, was exhibited in
the open air.
“A troop of nymphs and fairies lay in ambush for her return from dining
with the earl of Surry; and in the midst of these heathenish
exhibitions, the minister of the Dutch church waited his opportunity to
offer to her the grateful homage of his flock. After this oration, a
very curious compliment was paid her, in the form of a monument, on
which was artificially graven the scriptural history of Joseph; and in
the middle of the same device, was a figure of a serpent, entwining
itself around a dove, which bore this sentence: ‘Wise as the serpent,
and meek as the dove.’
“It appears that the inventing of masks, devices, and pageants, for the
recreation of the queen in her progresses, was a distinct profession.
George Ferrers, formerly commemorated as inventor of pastimes to Edward
the Sixth; one Goldingham; and Churchyard, author of the Worthieness of
Wales, of some legends in the Mirror of Magistrates, and of a prodigious
quantity of verse on various subjects, were the most celebrated
proficients in this branch: all three are handed down to posterity, as
contributors to the ‘princely pleasures of Kenilworth;’ and the two
latter, as the managers of the Norwich entertainments.
“But although it is not my intention to enter into all the pageants
which were exhibited, during the six days of the queen’s stay at
Norwich, I cannot, however, pass over the very original one,
representing a battle between six gentleman, apparelled only in doublet,
hose, and helmet on the head: during which, ‘the legs and arms of men,
well and lively wrought, were to be let fall, in numbers, on the ground,
as bloody as might be.’ A violent shower of rain prevented Elizabeth’s
enjoying this delicate exhibition; and the following day she left the
city, passing under wreaths, made of flowers, extended from each side of
the street, and mixed with garlands, coronets, pictures, rich cloths,
and a thousand devices; whilst songs of lamentation for her departure,
and orations on the high honour she had done the inhabitants, saluted
her ear, till she reached the purlieus of Norwich.
“Whilst I am willing to allow,” said Mrs. Spencer, “that taste was as
yet in its infancy, and the ludicrous incongruities, and pedantic
labour, exhibited in these diversions, are characteristic of a
semi-barbarous age; still I cannot but express my surprise, that a mind
so highly gifted as was that of Elizabeth, could find amusement in such
uncouth representations, and puerile performances. But I have not yet,
Sir, remarked any evidence of personal vanity. These festivities were
contrived by her subjects, not ordered by herself; and she was, in
politeness, obliged to listen to the eulogiums of her people, even
though the subject were in praise of herself.”
“That is true,” replied Mr. Wilmot; “but I think you will alter your
opinion, when you have the account of the entertainments that were
conducted by the queen, in honour of the proposals of marriage made to
her by the duke of Anjou.