CHAPTER XXIV.

ELIZABETH.

1558-1603.

When Mary Tudor had passed away unwept and unregretted, all England

heaved a sigh of relief, and turned to do homage to her sister

Elizabeth. The daughter of Anne Boleyn was now a young woman of

twenty-five. She had been living for the last five years in almost

continual peril of her life, and had required all her caution to

keep herself from the two snares which lay about her--the dangers of

being accused of treason on the one hand and of heresy on the other.

Fortunately for herself, Elizabeth was politic and cautious even to

excess--all through her reign her most trusted ministers were often

unable to discern her real thoughts and wishes--so that she came

unharmed through her sister's reign of terror.

[Sidenote: =The religious crisis.=]

But when the lords of the council came flocking to Hatfield--the place

of her honourable confinement--to salute her as queen, Elizabeth knew

that her feet were still set in slippery places. The ultra-Catholic

party was still in power, and the large majority of the nation were

professing Romanists; on the other hand, she knew that her sister had

made the name of Rome hateful, and there was a powerful and active band

of Protestants, some in exile and some at home, who were ready to rush

in and violently reverse all that Mary had done, if the new sovereign

would give them any encouragement. Moreover, there was grave danger

abroad: England was in the midst of war with France, yet Philip of

Spain, the late queen's husband, was likely to be more dangerous than

even the King of France, for it was obvious that he would be loth to

let England out of his grasp, after he had profited by her alliance for

four years.

[Sidenote: =The queen's attitude.=]

Elizabeth's personal predilections, like those of her father, were in

favour neither of Romanism nor of Protestantism. She did not wish to be

the slave of the Pope, nor did she intend to be the tool of the zealots

who had picked up in their Continental exile the newest doctrines of

the Swiss and German Reformers. At the same time, she wished to offend

neither the Catholic nor the Protestant, but to lead them both into

the _via media_ of an English National Church, which should be both

orthodox and independent. She was not a woman of much spiritual piety

or fervent zeal, and, judging from her own feelings, argued that it

would be possible to make others conform, without much difficulty, to

the Church which offered the happy mean.

[Sidenote: =The extreme Romanists.=]

Her position, however, was settled for her by the obstinacy of the

extreme Romanists. The bishops whom Mary had appointed behaved in the

most arrogant and insulting manner to her. When she had been duly

saluted as queen by the nation and the Parliament, they tacitly denied

her right to the throne; for with one accord they refused to be present

at her coronation, much more to place the crown upon her head. In the

view of the strict Papist, she was a bastard and a usurper. It was with

great difficulty that a single bishop--Oglethorpe, of Carlisle--was at

last persuaded to officiate at the ceremony. This senseless obstinacy

on the part of the prelates drove Elizabeth further in the direction

of Protestantism than she had intended to go. She was constrained

to send for the exiled Protestant bishops of King Edward's making,

and to replace them in their sees. The disloyal Romanist prelates

were deposed, and in their places new men were consecrated by the

restored Protestant bishops. Elizabeth took care that they should be

moderate personages, who might be trusted not to give trouble; the most

important of them was the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Matthew Parker,

a wise and pious man, who guided the Church of England through the

crisis with singular discretion.

[Sidenote: =Protestant reforms.--Adhesion of the moderate Catholics.=]

As it was impossible to conciliate the extreme Romanists, the queen

resolved to take up her father's position, with some modifications in

the direction of Protestantism. Unlike Henry VIII., she did not call

herself Supreme Head of the Church, but all her subjects were summoned

to take the oath of spiritual obedience to her. Only a few hundred

persons refused it, though among them were all the old bishops. But

the moderate Catholics accepted her, though they did not sacrifice

their faith to their loyalty. Elizabeth then issued a new Liturgy to

be the standard of the Creed of the English Church: it was a revision

of the Second Prayer-book of Edward VI., amended in such a way as to

make it less expressive of the views of the extreme Protestants. The

Latin Mass was forbidden, and all the old ceremonies, which Mary had

restored, were again swept away. There was, however, no attempt at

enforcing obedience by persecution. Elizabeth had taken warning by

the fate of her brother's and her sister's measures, and trusted to

loyalty and national feeling, not to prison or stake. She was wise in

her generation, for in ten years well-nigh all the moderate Catholics

had conformed to the Anglican formularies, rallying to the national

church when they saw that it was not to become ultra-Protestant. Their

adhesion was the more easily effected because the Pope, on purely

political grounds, did not excommunicate Elizabeth, or declare her

deposed, so that to hold to the old faith was not yet inconsistent with

loyalty to the Crown.

[Sidenote: =Philip of Spain.=]

Ere Elizabeth's religious bent had been clearly ascertained, her

widowed brother-in-law, Philip of Spain, had proposed that she should

marry him, for he was much set on maintaining his hold on England.

Elizabeth detested him, and steadfastly refused the offer, but with a

show of politeness, lest she might bring war on herself. Fearing that

when foiled Philip might become dangerous, she made peace and alliance

with his enemy, the King of France, and left Calais in his hands,

receiving instead a sum of 500,000 crowns.

[Sidenote: =Character of the queen.=]

Thus Elizabeth had tided over the first difficulties of her reign, and

felt her throne growing firmer beneath her, though there were still

dangers on every side. But her character was well suited to cope with

the situation. Though marred by many failings peculiarly feminine, she

had a man's brain and decision. She was vain of her handsome person,

and loved to be flattered and worshipped; but her vanity was not great

enough to induce her to put herself under the hand of a husband. She

listened to suitor after suitor, but said them nay in the end. Only one

of them ever seems to have touched her heart--this was Robert Dudley,

Earl of Leicester, the son of Protector Northumberland. Though much

taken with his comely face, the queen had strength of mind to deny him

her hand, seeing that marriage with a subject would bring too many

feuds and jealousies in its train. She consoled herself with pageants

and pleasures, for which she retained a curious zest even far into her

old age. Every one has heard of her elaborate toilette and her thousand

gowns, and of how she danced before foreign ambassadors after she had

passed the age of sixty.

But the vanity and love of pleasure which she inherited from her

mother, Anne Boleyn, were of comparatively little moment in the

ordering of the queen's life, because her clear and cold brain

dominated her desires. Elizabeth was as cautious, as suspicious, and

as secretive, as her grandfather Henry VII. She was very unscrupulous

in her diplomacy, and did not stick at a lie when an evasion would no

longer serve. Though she had plenty of courage for moments of danger,

yet she always put off the struggle as long as possible, holding

that every day of respite that she gained might chance to give some

unexpected end to the crisis. It is undoubted that she missed many

opportunities owing to this cautious slowness, but she also saved

herself from many traps into which a more hasty politician would have

fallen. We shall have to notice, again and again, her reluctance

to interfere in the wars of the Continent, even when it had become

inevitable that she must ultimately choose her side. This same caution

made her a very economical ruler. She grudged every penny that was

spent--except, indeed, the outgoings of her own privy purse--and often

pushed parsimony to the most unwise extreme. The very fleet that

defeated the Spanish Armada ran short both of powder and provisions

before the fighting was quite over.

[Sidenote: =Her popularity.=]

The English much admired their politic, unscrupulous, and parsimonious

queen. They saw only that she gave them good and cheap governance,

kept the kingdom out of unnecessary wars, and was, on the whole, both

tolerant and merciful. As they watched her pick her way successfully

through so many snares and perils, they came to look upon her as a

sort of second Providence, and credited her with an almost superhuman

sagacity and omniscience, which she was far from possessing. But they

were not altogether wrong in their confidence; she was, in spite of her

faults and foibles, a patriotic, clear-headed, hard-working sovereign,

who did her best for her people as well as for herself. Above all, she

had the invaluable gift of choosing her servants well; her two great

ministers, Cecil and Walsingham, were the most capable men in England

for their work, and she seldom failed to appreciate merit when once she

cast her eye upon it.

[Sidenote: =Renewed peace and prosperity.=]

For the first twelve years of Elizabeth's rule, England was occupied

in slowly settling down after the storms of the last two reigns. The

English Church was gradually absorbing the moderate men from both the

Protestant and the Romanist ranks. Quiet times were repairing the

wealth of the land, and the restoration of the purity of the coinage,

which was the queen's earliest care, had put trade once more on a

healthy basis. Foreign war was easily avoided; in France Henry II. died

ere Elizabeth had reigned a year, and his weak sons had occupation

enough in their civil wars with the Huguenots. Philip of Spain was ere

long to find a similar distraction, from the stirring of discontent

among his much-persecuted Protestant subjects in the Netherlands.

[Sidenote: =Mary Queen of Scots.=]

The chief troubles of the period 1558-68 came from another quarter--the

turbulent kingdom of Scotland. Elizabeth's natural heir was her cousin,

Mary Stuart, the Queen of Scots, who represented the line of Henry

VII.'s eldest daughter. Unless Elizabeth should marry and have issue,

Mary stood next her in the line of succession. The Queen of Scots,

however, was a most undesirable heiress. She had been brought up in

France, had married the eldest son of Henry II. and hated England. She

was a zealous Romanist, and ready to work hard for her faith. Moreover,

she was greatly desirous of being recognized as Elizabeth's next of

kin, and openly laid claim to the position. Though very young, she was

clever and active, and possessed charms of person and manner which bent

many men to her will.

[Sidenote: =The Scottish Reformation.=]

Mary returned from France in 1561, having lost her husband, the

young French king, after he had reigned but a single year. She found

Scotland, as usual, in a state of turmoil and violence. The Parliament

had, in her absence, followed the example of England, by casting off

the Roman yoke, and declaring Protestantism the religion of the land.

But a strong party of Romanist lords refused obedience, and with them

the queen allied herself on her arrival.

[Sidenote: =Darnley and Bothwell.=]

For the seven turbulent years of Mary's stay in Scotland, she was a

grievous thorn in the side of Elizabeth. She was always laying claim

to be acknowledged as heiress to the English crown, and her demand

was secretly approved by the surviving Romanists to the south of the

Tweed. Elizabeth replied by intriguing with the Protestant nobles

of Scotland, and stirred up as much trouble as she could for her

cousin, while outwardly professing the greatest love and esteem for

her. The results of their machinations against each other were still

uncertain, when Mary spoilt her own game by twice allowing her passion

to overrule her judgment. She was fascinated by the handsome person of

her first-cousin, Henry Lord Darnley,[34] and most unwisely married

him, and made him king-consort. Darnley was a vicious, ill-conditioned

young man, and soon made himself unbearable to his wife, by striving

to get the royal power into his hands, and at the same time treating

her with gross cruelty and neglect. His crowning offence was causing

the assassination of Mary's private secretary, Rizzio, in her actual

presence, under circumstances of the greatest brutality. After this,

Mary completely lost her head. She lent her sanction to a plot for

her husband's murder, framed by the Earl of Bothwell, a great lord of

the Border. Bothwell slew the young king and blew up his residence

with gunpowder, but disavowed the deed, and induced the queen to

have him declared guiltless after a mock trial. Mary was well rid of

her husband, and, her complicity in the plot not having been proved,

she might have escaped the consequences of her crime but for a

second fit of infatuation. She had become violently enamoured of the

murderer Bothwell, and suffered him to carry her off to the castle of

Dunbar, and there to marry her. No one now doubted her complicity in

Darnley's murder, and the whole kingdom rose against her in righteous

indignation. The army which Bothwell raised in her defence refused

to strike a blow, and melted away when faced by the levies of the

Protestant lords. The queen herself fell into their hands, was forced

to abdicate, and was condemned to lifelong prison in Lochleven Castle.

In Mary's place, her young son by Darnley, James VI., was proclaimed

as king, the regency being given by the Parliament to James, Earl of

Murray, an illegitimate son of James V. (June, 1567).

Queen Mary being thus imprisoned and discredited, Elizabeth thought

that her troubles on the side of Scotland were over, and closely allied

herself with the Regent Murray. But the struggle was not yet ended. The

Romanist party in Scotland saw that the new Protestant rulers of the

country would crush their faith, and determined on a desperate rising

in favour of their old religion and their old sovereign.

[Sidenote: =Mary flees to England.=]

Mary escaped by night from Lochleven, and joined the insurgents.

The Regent gave chase, and caught her army up at Langside, near

Glasgow. The queen's friends were routed in the fight that followed,

and she herself, riding hard out of the fray, fled for the English

border. After a moment's hesitation, she resolved to throw herself on

Elizabeth's mercy, rather than to face the almost certain death which

awaited her at the hands of her son's adherents. There was no time to

wait for any promise of safe conduct or shelter, and she arrived at

Carlisle, unprotected by any engagement on the part of the Queen of

England (May, 1568).

[Sidenote: =Mary confined In England.--The Casket Letters.=]

Elizabeth's most dangerous enemy had thus fallen into her hands, but

the position was not much simplified by the fact. It had to be decided

whether the royal refugee should be allowed to proceed to France, as

she herself wished; or handed over to the Scots, as the Regent Murray

demanded; or kept in custody in England, as Elizabeth's self-interest

seemed to require. To let her go to France would be generous, but

dangerous; once arrived there, she would conspire with her cousins,

the powerful family of Guise, against the peace of England. To send

her back to Scotland would have some savour of legality about it, but

would be equivalent to pronouncing her death-sentence; and from this

Elizabeth shrank. To keep her captive in England seemed harsh, and even

treacherous; for what right had one sovereign princess to imprison

another? The politic Elizabeth resolved to take a cautious middle

course. She protested to the Queen of Scots that she was willing to

restore her to her throne, if she found that the accusations which her

subjects made against her were untrue. This was practically putting her

guest upon her trial for the murder of Darnley; for when the Regent and

the Scots lords were informed of the decision, they came forward to

accuse their exiled mistress. They laid before Elizabeth's commission

of inquiry the famous "Casket Letters," a series of documents which

had passed between Mary and Bothwell. If genuine--and it seems almost

certain that they were--they proved the guilt and infatuation of the

Queen of Scots up to the hilt. Mary protested that they were forgeries,

and her followers down to this day have believed her. But she refused

to stand any trial; declared that she, a crowned queen and no subject

of England, would never plead before English judges, and demanded leave

to quit the realm. Satisfied with the effect on English and Scottish

public opinion which the "Casket Letters" had produced, Elizabeth

now took the decisive step of consigning Mary to close custody; thus

practically treating her as a criminal, though no decision had been

given against her (January, 1569).

[Sidenote: =Romanist intrigues in Mary's favour.=]

For nearly twenty years the unfortunate Queen of Scots was doomed to

spend a weary life, moved about from one manor or castle to another,

under the care of guardians who were little better than gaolers.

But she soon began to revenge herself. As long as she lived she was

undoubtedly Elizabeth's heiress, if hereditary right counted for

anything. Using this fact as her weapon, she began to intrigue with

English malcontents. She offered her hand to the Duke of Norfolk, an

ambitious young man, who was dazzled by the prospect of succeeding to

Elizabeth's throne. She stirred up the Catholic lords of the North, by

promising to restore the old faith if they would overthrow her cousin.

But Elizabeth's ministers were wary and suspicious; Norfolk's designs

were discovered, and he was cast into the Tower. The news of his

imprisonment led to the immediate outbreak of the Northern Romanists;

Thomas Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and Charles Neville, Earl of

Westmoreland, raised their retainers, and made a dash on Tutbury, where

Mary was confined, intending to rescue her and proclaim her as queen.

[Sidenote: =The "Rising in the North."=]

But the days of the Wars of the Roses were past; the retainers of the

northern lords could do nothing against the royal power, and the

"Rising in the North," as the plot was called, came to an ignominious

end. The two earls failed to seize the person of the Queen of Scots,

and were easily driven away. They fled--the one to Scotland, the other

to Spain,--and gave Elizabeth little further trouble. This was the last

insurrection of the old feudal type in the pages of English history

(October and November, 1569). Elizabeth showed herself more merciful

than might have been expected to the plotters. Norfolk was released

after a short captivity; the Queen of Scots suffered no further

aggravation of her imprisonment. For this she gave her cousin small

thanks, and without delay recommenced plotting to secure her liberty.

[Sidenote: =Religious wars in Europe.=]

Meanwhile the aspect of affairs on the Continent was beginning to

engage more and more of Elizabeth's attention. By this time civil

wars were alight both in France and in the Netherlands. The French

Protestants, or Huguenots, as they were called, had taken arms to

secure themselves toleration as early as 1562. The Protestants of the

Netherlands, after long suffering under the grinding tyranny of Philip

of Spain and the Inquisition, had been driven to revolt in 1568. In

both countries the insurgents appealed for help to Elizabeth; they

implored the queen to save them from the triumph of popery, and pointed

out that if they themselves failed, the victorious Romanists would

inevitably turn against England, the only power in Western Europe which

denied the Pope's supremacy. They might have added that the Queen of

Scots was closely allied with the Guises, the heads of the Catholic

party in France, and that she was also intriguing for the aid of Philip

of Spain.

[Sidenote: =Elizabeth's foreign policy.=]

In her dealings with the Continental Protestants Elizabeth showed

herself at her worst. Vacillation and selfishness marked her actions

from first to last. She felt that the civil wars kept France and Spain

from being dangerous to her. She knew also that if they ended in the

suppression of the rebels, England would be in grave danger. But she

hated rebellion, she could not understand religious enthusiasm, and

she detested the violent Calvinism which both the Huguenots and the

Netherlanders professed. All wars too, she knew, were expensive, and

their issues doubtful. Hence it came that she displayed a reluctance to

commit herself to one side or the other, which involved her in much

double-dealing and even treachery. She refused to declare war either on

Philip of Spain or on Charles of France, and allowed their ministers

to remain at her court. But she several times sent the Huguenots help,

both secretly and openly, and she allowed the Netherland Protestants to

take shelter in England, and recruit themselves in her ports. She made

no effort to prevent hundreds of English volunteers passing the Channel

to aid the insurgents. For if the queen had doubts as to taking her

side, the people had none; they sympathized heartily with the Huguenots

and the Netherlanders, and did all that private persons could to bring

them succour.

[Sidenote: =The Bull of Deposition.=]

Yet Elizabeth refused to assume the position of the champion of

Protestantism, even when the inducement to do so became more pressing.

In 1570 Pope Pius V. formally excommunicated her, and declared

her deposed, and her kingdom transferred to her cousin Mary. This

declaration turned all the more violent and fanatical Romanists into

potential traitors; if they believed in their Pope's decision, they

were bound to regard Elizabeth as a bastard and a usurper, and to look

upon Mary as the true queen. Most of the English Catholics steadily

refused to take up this position, and remained loyal in spite of the

many vexations to which their religion exposed them. But a violent

minority accepted the papal decree, and spent their time in scheming

to depose or even to murder their sovereign. The knowledge of their

designs made Elizabeth doubly cautious and wary, but did not drive her

into a crusade against Catholicism. Her Parliament, however, passed

bills, making the introduction of papal bulls into the realm, as also

the perversion of members of the Church of England to Romanism, high

treason. But no attempt was made to save the Continental Protestants

from their oppressors, or to put England at the head of a league

against the Pope.

[Sidenote: =The Ridolfi Plot.=]

Meanwhile, the Bull of Deposition bore its first-fruits in a new

conspiracy of the English Romanists, generally known as the "Ridolfi

Plot," from the name of an Italian banker, who served as the go-between

of the English malcontents and the King of Spain. The Duke of Norfolk,

ungrateful for his pardon two years before, took the lead in the

conspiracy, undertaking to seize or even to murder Elizabeth, and

then to marry the Queen of Scots. Philip of Spain promised Norfolk's

agent, Ridolfi, that the duke should have the aid of Spanish troops the

moment that he took arms. But the plan came to Cecil's ears, some of

Norfolk's papers fell into the minister's power, and he was able to lay

his hands on all concerned in the plot. Norfolk lost his head, as he

well deserved, and it was expected that the Queen of Scots would share

his fate. But though the nation and the Parliament clamoured for Mary's

blood, Elizabeth refused to touch her; she was left unharmed in her

captivity. Nor did the queen declare war on Spain, though there was the

clearest proof that Philip had been implicated in the plot. Her only

wish seems to have been to put off the crisis as long as possible.

[Sidenote: =Progress of the struggle abroad.=]

If her own danger could not tempt Elizabeth to interfere in Continental

affairs, it was not likely that anything else would make her take up

the sword. Not even the fearful Massacre of St. Bartholomew provoked

her to take up arms against the Catholics--though on that one night the

weak King of France, egged on by his wicked mother and brother, ordered

the slaughter of 20,000 Protestants who had come up to Paris, relying

on his good will and promised patronage (1572). Elizabeth stormed at

the treacherous French court, but made no attempt to aid the surviving

Huguenots in their gallant struggle against their persecutors. So

great was her determination to keep the peace, that she even offered

to mediate between Philip of Spain and the revolted provinces of

the Low Countries, though it is fair to add that she--perhaps

designedly--proposed conditions to them which it was unlikely that

either would accept.

It was fortunate for England that both the Huguenots in France and the

Dutch in the North displayed a far greater power of resistance than

might have been expected. The former held their own, and even forced

King Charles to come to terms and grant them toleration. The latter,

though reduced to great straits, persevered to the end under their wise

leader, William, Prince of Orange, and beat back the terrible Duke of

Alva, King Philip's best general, from the walls of Alkmaar, when their

fortunes seemed at the lowest (1573). Next year they forced Alva's

successor, Requesens, to retire from Holland, after the gallant defence

and relief of Leyden (October, 1574).

[Sidenote: =Commercial and maritime gains of England.=]

Elizabeth, therefore, escaped the danger that the triumph of the King

of Spain and the Catholic party in France would have brought upon

her, though her safety came from no merit of her own. It was not

till ten years more had passed that she was finally forced to draw

the sword and fight for her life and crown. Meanwhile, it cannot be

denied that her cautious and selfish policy did much for the material

prosperity of England. In twenty years of peace the one country of

Western Europe which enjoyed quiet and good government was bound to

profit at the expense of its unfortunate neighbours. England became a

land of refuge to all the Continental Protestants: to her shores the

artisans of France transferred their industries, and the merchants of

Antwerp their hoarded wealth. The new settlers were kindly received, as

men persecuted in behalf of the true faith, and became good citizens

of their adopted country. But most of all did the maritime trade of

England prosper. Her seamen got the advantage that comes to the neutral

flag in time of war, and began to take into their hands the commerce

that had once been the staple of the Hanseatic Towns, the French ocean

ports, and the cities of the much-vexed Low Countries. English ships

had seldom been seen in earlier days beyond Hamburg or Lisbon, but now

they began to push into the Baltic, to follow the Mediterranean as far

as Turkey, and even to navigate the wild Arctic Ocean, as far as the

ports of Northern Russia.

[Sidenote: =Exploration in the West.--Hawkins--Drake--Frobisher.=]

But the attention of the English seamen was directed most of all to

the West, whither the reports of the vast wealth of America drew

adventurous spirits as with a magnet. The gold which the Spaniards had

plundered from the ancient empires of Mexico and Peru dazzled the eyes

of all men, and the English seamen hoped to find some similar hoard on

every barren shore from Newfoundland to Patagonia. But the Spaniards

arrogated to themselves the sole right to America and its trade, basing

their claim on a preposterous grant made them by Alexander VI., the

notorious Borgia Pope. They treated all adventurers who pushed into

the Western waters not only as intruders, but as pirates. Sir John

Hawkins, the pioneer of English trade to America, was always coming

into collision with them (1562-64). That more famous sea-captain,

Sir Francis Drake, a cousin of Hawkins, spent most of his time in

bickering in a somewhat piratical way with the Spanish authorities

beyond the ocean. His second voyage to the West was a great landmark

in English naval history. Starting in 1577 with the secret connivance

of Elizabeth, he sailed round Cape Horn and up the coasts of Chili and

Peru, capturing numberless Spanish ships, and often sacking a wealthy

port. His greatest achievement was the seizing of the great Lima

galleon, which was taking home to King Philip the annual instalment

of American treasure--a sum of no less than £500,000. After taking

this splendid booty, Drake reached England by crossing the Pacific

and Indian Oceans, and rounding the Cape of Good Hope, thus making

the first circumnavigation of the globe which an Englishman had

accomplished. While Drake was gathering treasure in South America,

other seamen pushed northward, endeavouring to find the "North-West

Passage"--a navigable route which was supposed to exist round the

northern shore of North America. There Frobisher discovered Labrador

and Hudson's Bay, but brought back little profit from his adventures in

the frozen Arctic seas.

[Sidenote: =Jesuit intrigues.=]

While the emissaries of England were invading the Spanish waters,

England herself was suffering from another kind of invasion at the

hands of the friends of the King of Spain. Since the bull of 1570,

Elizabeth was considered fair game by every fanatical Romanist on

the Continent. Accordingly, there began to land in England many

secret missionaries of the old faith, generally exiled Englishmen

trained abroad in the "English colleges" at Rheims and Douay, where

the banished Catholics mustered strongest. It was their aim not only

to keep wavering Romanists in their faith, but to organize them in

a secret conspiracy against the queen. They taught that all was

permissible in dealing with heretics; their disciples were to feign

loyalty, and even conformity with the English Church, but were to be

ready to take up arms whenever the signal was given from the Continent.

These Jesuits and seminary priests constituted a very serious

danger, but they did not escape the eyes of Walsingham and Burleigh,

Elizabeth's watchful ministers. Their plans were discovered, and

several were caught and hung; yet the conspiracy went on, and was soon

to take shape in overt action.

[Sidenote: =Throckmorton's Plot.--War with Spain declared.=]

Its first working was seen in "Throckmorton's Plot," a widely spread

scheme for an attack on England by all the Catholic powers combined

(1583). The Duke of Guise prepared an army in France, the King of

Spain another in the Netherlands, which were to unite for an invasion.

Meanwhile, the English Romanists were to rise in favour of the Queen

of Scots, and welcome the foreign armies. Throckmorton and a few more

fanatics undertook to make the whole plan easier by assassinating the

queen. But Walsingham's spies got scent of the matter, Throckmorton was

caught and executed, and Elizabeth, convinced at last that dallying

with Spain was no longer possible, dismissed King Philip's ambassador,

and prepared for open war (1584).

[Sidenote: =Leicester's expedition to Holland.=]

The struggle which had so long been fought out by intrigue and

unauthorized buccaneering, was now to be settled by honest hard

fighting. It proved perilous enough, but far less formidable than

the cautious queen had feared. Elizabeth was at last forced to lend

open aid to the Protestants of the Continent, and 7000 men, under her

favourite, the Earl of Leicester, sailed for Holland to aid the Dutch

against King Philip. They won no great battles, but their presence was

invaluable to the Netherlanders, who had begun to despair when their

great leader, William of Orange, had been assassinated by a fanatic

hired by Spanish gold. Leicester was an incapable general, but his men

fought well, and learnt to despise the Spaniards. Even a defeat which

they suffered at Zutphen encouraged them, for 500 English there made

head against the whole Spanish army, and retired without great harm,

though they lost Sir Philip Sidney, the most popular and accomplished

young gentleman in England, well known as the author of a curious

pastoral romance called "The Arcadia" (1586).

[Sidenote: =English successes at sea.=]

Far more important than the fighting in the Netherlands were the

maritime exploits of the English seamen. The moment that they were

let loose upon the Spaniards they asserted a clear supremacy at sea.

Drake took and sacked Vigo, a great port of Northern Spain, and then,

crossing the Atlantic, captured the chief cities of the West Indies and

the Spanish main--St. Iago, Cartagena, and St. Domingo (1586).

[Sidenote: =Last plot of Mary Queen of Scots.=]

Meanwhile, Mary Queen of Scots was playing her last stake. From

her prison she made over to King Philip her rights to the throne of

England, and besought him to despatch his armies to rescue her. But she

also gave her approval to one more assassination-plot hatched by the

English Catholics. Instigated by a Jesuit priest named Ballard, Anthony

Babington, a gentleman of Derbyshire, and a handful of his friends

agreed to murder Elizabeth in her own palace. But there were spies of

the lynx-eyed Walsingham among the conspirators, and when the Queen of

Scots and the would-be murderers were just prepared to strike, hands

were laid upon them. Babington and his friends were executed, but this

was not enough to appease the cry for blood which arose from the whole

nation when the conspiracy was divulged. Urged on by her ministers,

Elizabeth at last allowed the Queen of Scots to be put on her trial for

this, the fourth attempt to strike down her cousin. Mary was tried by

a commission of peers, and clearly convicted, not only of encouraging

a Catholic rising and a Spanish invasion, but of having approved

Babington's murderous plan. She was found guilty (October 25, 1586),

and the Parliament, which met soon after, besought the queen to have

her beheaded without delay.

[Sidenote: =Mary executed.=]

But Elizabeth still hesitated. She hated Mary, but her high ideas of

royal prerogative made her shrink from slaying a sovereign princess,

and she still dreaded the explosion of wrath which she knew must follow

all over Catholic Europe. The young King of Scotland might resent

his mother's execution, and the Guises in France would never pardon

their cousin's death. She lingered for more than three months before

she would issue Mary's death-warrant; but at last she gave the fatal

signature. Her ministers at once caused the warrant to be carried

out, without allowing their mistress time to repent. The Queen of

Scots was executed in her prison at Fotheringay Castle. She died with

great dignity and courage, asserting on the scaffold that she was a

martyr for her religion, not a criminal. Many both in her own day and

since have believed her words, but it is impossible to read her story

through from first to last, and then to conclude that she was only the

victim of circumstances and the prey of unscrupulous enemies. Though

much sinned against, she was far more the worker of her own undoing

(February 8, 1587).

Elizabeth expressed great wrath against her ministers for hurrying

on the execution. She fined and imprisoned Davison, the Secretary of

State, who had sent off Mary's death-warrant, and pretended that she

had wished to pardon her. Perhaps her anger was real, but no one save

the unfortunate Davison took it very seriously. The people felt nothing

but satisfaction and relief, and rejoiced that there was no longer a

Catholic heiress to trouble the realm. The King of Scots contented

himself with a formal protest, and the Guises in France were too busy

in their civil wars with King Henry III. and the Huguenots to think of

assailing England.

[Sidenote: =The Spanish Armada.=]

Only Philip of Spain, who accepted in sober earnest the legacy of her

rights which Mary had left him, took up the task of revenge, and he had

already so many causes to hate Elizabeth, that he did not need this

additional provocation to spur him on to attack her. He had already

begun to prepare for a great naval expedition against England. All

through the spring and summer of 1587 the ports of Spain, Portugal,

Naples, and Sicily, were busy in manning and equipping every war-ship

that the king could get together. The Duke of Parma, the Spanish

viceroy in the Netherlands, was also directed to draw off every man

that could be spared from the Dutch War, and to be ready to lead them

across the Channel the moment that the king's fleet should have secured

the Straits of Dover.

But the great flotilla, the _Invincible Armada_, as the Spaniards

called it, was long in sailing. Ere it was ready, Drake made a bold

descent on Cadiz, and burnt no less than 10,000 tons of shipping which

lay in its harbour. He called this exploit "singeing the King of

Spain's beard." This disaster caused so much delay that the expedition

had to be put off till the next year.

In the spring of 1588, however, the Armada was at last ready to start.

It comprised 130 vessels, half of which were great "galleons" of the

largest size that were known to the sixteenth century, and carried

8000 seamen and nearly 20,000 soldiers. But the crews were raw, the

ships were ill-found and ill-provisioned, and, what was most fatal of

all, the admiral, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, was a mere fair-weather

sailor, who hardly knew a mast from an anchor. It may be added that the

vessels were overcrowded with the 20,000 soldiers whom they bore, and

for the most part were armed with fewer and smaller cannons than their

great bulk would have been able to carry.

[Sidenote: =Comparison of Spanish and English fleets.=]

Nevertheless, the Armada was an imposing force, and in strong hands

ought to have achieved success. For Elizabeth had a very small

permanent royal navy, and had to rely for the defence of her realm

mainly on privateers and merchantmen hastily equipped for war service.

Moreover, her parsimony had depleted the royal arsenals to such an

extent, that in provisioning and arming their fleet the English were at

much the same disadvantage as their enemies. But, unlike the Spaniards,

they had excellent crews, and were led by old captains who had learnt

their trade in long years of exploring and buccaneering across the

Atlantic--men like Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and others whose names

we have no space to mention. The command of the whole was given to

Lord Howard of Effingham, a capable and cautious officer, who showed

himself worthy of the queen's confidence--confidence that appeared

all the more striking because he was suspected by many to be a Roman

Catholic. In the mere number of ships the English fleet which mustered

at Plymouth somewhat exceeded the Armada, but in size the individual

vessels were far smaller than the Spanish galleons. But they were much

more seaworthy, and were armed so heavily with artillery that it was

found that an English ship could throw a broadside of the same weight

of metal as a Spaniard of almost double its size.

[Sidenote: =Defeat and dispersion of the Armada.=]

The Armada left Corunna, the northernmost port of Spain, on July 22,

and appeared off the Lizard on July 28. On the news of its approach,

the English fleet put out of Plymouth, and the beacons summoned the

militia to arms all over the land from Berwick to Penzance. The Duke of

Medina Sidonia had resolved not to fight the English at once, but to

pass up the Channel to the Dover Straits, and get into communication

with his colleague Parma in Flanders, before engaging in a decisive

battle. This unwise resolve gave the English a splendid opportunity.

As the Armada slowly rolled eastward, it was beset on all sides by

Lord Howard's lighter fleet, and for a whole week was battered and

hustled along without being able to induce the enemy to close. The

great galleons were so slow and unwieldy, that they could not come

up with the English, who sailed around and about them, plying them

with distant but effective artillery fire, and cutting off every

vessel which was disabled or fell behind. By the time that the

Spaniards reached Calais, they were thoroughly demoralized; they had

lost comparatively few ships, but every one of the fleet was more or

less shattered by shot, and the crews had suffered terribly from the

cannonade. At Calais Medina Sidonia received the unwelcome news that

Parma could not join him. A Dutch fleet was blockading the Flemish

ports, and the viceroy was unable to get his transports out to sea.

Thus brought to a check, the duke moored his fleet off Calais, to

pause a moment and recruit (August 6). But that night the English sent

fire-ships among his crowded vessels, and to escape them the Spaniards

had to put off hastily in the darkness. This manoeuvre proved fatal.

Some vessels ran ashore on the French coast, others were burnt, others

cut off by the enemy. A final engagement, on August 8-9, so shattered

the fleet that Medina Sidonia lost heart, and fled away into the German

Ocean, before a strong gale from the south which had sprung up. His

vessels were dispersed, and each made its way out of the fight as best

it could. Some were taken, many driven on to the Dutch coast, the rest

passed out of sight of England, steering northward before the gale.

Lord Howard's fleet was therefore able to sail victorious into the

Thames, and report the rout of the enemy. It was none too soon,

for the English ammunition was well-nigh exhausted after ten days'

continuous fighting. They were welcomed by the queen, who had gathered

a great force of militia at Tilbury, in Essex, to fight Parma, if he

should succeed in crossing. Elizabeth had behaved splendidly during

the crisis; she had organized a strong army, and put herself at its

head, inspiring every man by the cheerful and resolute spirit which

she displayed. Even had the Armada swept away the English fleet, it is

unlikely that Parma would have been successful against the numerous and

enthusiastic levies which were ready to fight him.

But the Armada was now a thing of naught. Forced to return round the

north of Scotland, it was utterly shattered in the unknown seas of the

West. The cliffs of the Orkneys, the Hebrides, Connaught, and Kerry,

were strewn with the wrecks of Spanish galleons, and only 53 ships out

of the 130 that had started straggled back to the ports of northern

Spain.

The great crisis of the century was now past; queen and nation had

been true to themselves and to each other, and the days of plots and

invasions were over. For the future, Elizabeth could not only sleep

secure of life and crown, but could feel that she might pose as the

arbitress of Western Europe, since the domination of Spain was at an

end.

[Sidenote: =Half-hearted foreign policy of Elizabeth.=]

But she was now too far gone in years--she had attained the age of

fifty-six--to be able to start on a new and vigorous line of policy.

Her old passion for caution and intrigue could not be shaken off,

though they were no longer necessary. Hence it came to pass that,

though England was strong, healthy, wealthy, and vigorous, she did not

take up the dominant position that might have been expected. The queen

persisted in her old policy of helping the Continental Protestants

only by meagre doles of money, and small detachments of troops. By a

vigorous effort she might have thrust the Spaniards completely out of

the Low Countries, or enabled the Huguenots to make themselves supreme

in France. But she refused to fit out any great expeditions; the

expense appalled her parsimonious soul, and she dreaded the chances

of war. Hence it came that in the Low Countries the Dutch established

their independence in the "Seven United Provinces," but Spain continued

to hold Belgium. Hence, too, French parties were condemned to six

years more of civil war, which only ended when Henry of Navarre, the

Protestant heir to the throne of France, abjured his religion in order

to get accepted by the Catholics. "Paris is well worth a Mass," he

cynically observed, and swore all that was required of him (1593).

But he granted the Huguenots complete peace and toleration by the

celebrated _Edict of Nantes_, and put an end to the civil war which had

devastated his unhappy land for thirty years.

[Sidenote: =Naval war with Spain continued.=]

The chief efforts of Elizabeth's foreign policy during the last fifteen

years of her reign were naval expeditions against the Spaniards. They

caused King Philip much loss and much vexation of spirit, but they did

not inflict any very crushing blow on him. The queen would never spend

enough money on them, and generally allowed her subjects to carry on

the war with squadrons of privateers. But the English adventurers very

naturally sought plunder rather than solid political advantages--a fact

which accounts for their failure to do anything great. A considerable

expedition sent out in 1589 sacked Corunna and Vigo, but failed in

an attempt to set upon the Portuguese throne a pretender hostile to

King Philip. This was followed by a series of smaller expeditions

to South America and the West Indies, in which Drake, and a younger

adventurer, Sir Walter Raleigh, Elizabeth's favourite courtier, did

Spain considerable harm, but England no great good. A larger armament

sailed in 1596 against Cadiz, under the Earl of Essex and Lord Howard

of Effingham. This force took the town, and destroyed Spain's largest

naval arsenal and a great part of her fleet: a mere naval expedition

could do no more.

[Sidenote: =Colonial enterprise.--Raleigh in Virginia.=]

These successive blows at Spain gave England the complete command

of the seas. Hence it is not strange that we find the beginnings of

colonial enterprise appearing. An attempt to found a settlement on

the bleak shore of Newfoundland was a failure. But Sir Walter Raleigh

planted a promising colony in the more clement district about the

river Roanoke, which he named _Virginia_, after his mistress, the

"Virgin-Queen," as she loved to be called. The first Virginian scheme

came to naught--the Indians were hostile, and the improvident settlers

planted tobacco instead of corn, and so starved themselves (1590). It

was not till seventeen years later that the colony was founded for the

second time, and began to flourish. It was from thence that Raleigh

brought to England the two products that are always connected with his

name, tobacco and potatoes.

[Sidenote: =Growth of foreign trade.--Chartered companies.=]

Colonial enterprise was accompanied by increased trade with distant

lands. The English ships began to appear as far afield as India,

China, and even Japan. The merchants who worked the more difficult

and dangerous routes, banded themselves into chartered companies, of

which the Turkey Company, founded in 1581, the Russian Company, dating

from 1566, and the far more famous East India Company (1600) were the

most important. By the end of the queen's reign, English commerce had

doubled and tripled, and the steady stream of wealth which it poured

into the land had done much to end the social troubles and dangers

which had marked the middle years of the century.

[Sidenote: =Rural distress.=]

But nearly all the profit went to the town populations. Ports and

markets flourished, merchants and skilled artisans grew rich, and a

certain proportion of the wretched vagrant hordes, which had been

the terror of the middle years of the century, were absorbed into

the new employments which were springing up in the towns. But in the

countryside, neither the landholder nor the peasant had nearly such a

good position as in the days before the Reformation. The prices both

of food and of manufactured goods had gone up about threefold, but

rents had not risen perceptibly, and the wages of agricultural labour

had only increased about 50 percent. The country gentleman, therefore,

was no longer so opulent in comparison to the town-dwelling merchant,

and the peasant stood far worse compared with the artisan than in the

previous century. We may place in the time of Elizabeth the beginning

of that rise of the importance of the urban as compared with the rural

population, which has been going on ever since, till, in our own day,

England is entirely dominated by her towns. It will be noticed that in

the great political struggle of the next century, under the Stuarts,

the party which represented the wealth and activity of the cities

completely beat that which drew its strength from the peerage and

gentry of the purely agricultural districts.

[Sidenote: =The Poor Law.=]

It would be wrong to leave the field of social change without

mentioning the celebrated Poor Law of Queen Elizabeth (1601). All

attempts to cope with pauperism by voluntary charity having failed, it

was finally resolved to make the maintenance of the aged and invalid

poor a statutory burden on the parishes. The new law provided that

the able-bodied vagrant should be forced to work, and, if he refused,

should be imprisoned, but that the impotent and deserving should be

fed and housed by overseers, who were authorized to levy rates on the

parish for their support. The system seems to have worked well, and we

hear no complaints on the subject for three or four generations.

[Sidenote: =Growth of poetry and philosophy.=]

It is most noteworthy to mark the way in which the expansion of England

in the spheres of political and commercial greatness was accompanied by

a corresponding growth in the realms of intellect. The second half of

Elizabeth's reign, a mere period of twenty years, was more fertile in

great literary names than the two whole centuries which had preceded

it. The excitement of the long religious wars, the sudden opening up of

the dark places of the world by the great explorers, the free spirit

of individual inquiry which accompanied the growth of Protestantism,

all conspired to stir and develop men's minds. The greatest English

dramatist, William Shakespeare, born in 1564, and the greatest English

philosopher, Francis Bacon, born in 1561, were both children of the

days of the long struggle with Spain, and had watched the final crisis

of the Armada in their early manhood. Edmund Spenser, a few years older

than his mightier contemporaries, shows even more clearly the spirit

of the times. All through his lengthy epic of the _Faërie Queene_ he

is inspired by the enthusiasm of the struggles of England, and tells

in allegory the glories of the great Elizabeth. We have but space to

allude to Sir Philip Sydney and his pastoral romances, to Hooker's

works on political philosophy, to Marlowe and other dramatists whose

fame is half eclipsed by Shakespeare's genius. Never before or since

has England produced in a few short years such a crop of great literary

names.

The two main subjects of domestic importance in the last years of

Elizabeth were the development of fresh forms of division in the

English Church, and the troubles caused by the new conquest of Ireland.

Both of these movements had begun in the earlier years of the reign,

but did not fully expand till its end.

[Sidenote: =Dangers from the Romanists at an end.=]

Elizabeth's chief problem in matters religious had for thirty years

been that of dealing with the Roman Catholics. But after the death of

Mary of Scotland and the defeat of the Armada this question retired

somewhat into the background. The vast majority of the Romanists had

conformed to the Anglican Church; of the remainder many were loyal,

and were therefore tacitly left unharmed by the Government, save when

they came into conflict with the Recusancy Laws, as the acts directed

against them were called. The small but violent minority who listened

to the Jesuits, and were still plotting against the queen, were, on the

other hand, treated with the most vehement harshness. At one time and

another, a very considerable number of them came to the gallows, though

always, as Elizabeth was careful to explain, not as Papists, but as

traitors. They were so hated by the nation, who identified them with

nothing but assassination plots and intrigues with Spain, that they no

longer constituted any danger.

[Sidenote: =Rise of Puritanism.=]

But a new religious problem was growing up. Many of the Protestants who

had conformed to the English Church system in Elizabeth's earlier years

were growing out of touch with the National Establishment. Constant

intercourse with the Huguenots and the Dutch, both of whom professed

violent forms of Calvinism, had made them discontented with the ritual

and organization of the English Church. Like their Continental friends,

they came to hate bishops and canons, vestments and ritual, even things

that seem to us parts of the common decencies of church service, such

as the surplice in the reading-desk, the usage of kneeling at Holy

Communion, the employment of the ring in marriage, and the sign of the

cross at baptism. All these remnants of common Christian practice they

considered to be "rags of Popery," vain survivals of the old Romanist

days. And since they wished to sweep everything away, they were called

in derision "Puritans," in allusion to their constant citation of "the

pure Gospel."

[Sidenote: =Harsh treatment of the Puritans.=]

Elizabeth detested the Puritan habit of mind. She loved decency

and order, and she liked the pomp and splendour of the old church

services; indeed, she would have gladly kept much that the Anglican

Establishment has rejected. She was proud of her position as head and

defender of the national Church, and looked upon the bishops as high

and important state officials under her. The Puritan desire to abolish

the episcopate, to do away with all ritual, to whitewash the churches

and break down all their ornaments, seemed to her to savour of anarchic

republicanism and rank disloyalty. She was determined that the Puritan,

no less than the Romanist, should suffer if he refused to conform to

the usages of the national Church. Hence it came that she dealt very

hardly with the Puritans, suppressing their religious meetings for

"prophesying"--as they called extempore preaching--and treating their

pamphlets as seditious. One very scurrilous set of tracts, issued

under the name of _Martin Mar-prelate_, provoked her wrath so much

that John Penry, who was responsible for them, was actually hung for

treasonable libel. Puritans who kept quiet did not suffer, any more

than the Romanists who kept quiet, but those who resisted the queen

were treated with a rigour that showed that the day of freedom of

conscience was still far away. The discontented admirers of Calvinism

still kept within the Church of England,--it was their ambition to

change its doctrine, not to quit it; but already in Elizabeth's reign

it was obvious that schism between the moderate and the violent parties

was inevitable.

[Sidenote: =Irish policy of Elizabeth.=]

The most miserable and melancholy page of the history of Elizabeth's

reign is that which is covered by the records of Ireland. We have

already mentioned how Henry VIII. had extended the English influence

beyond the borders of "the Pale," and done something towards subduing

the whole island to obedience. But the most important share of the work

was reserved for Elizabeth. Her intent was shown by her Act of 1569,

for dividing the whole land into shires, to be ruled by sheriffs on

the English plan--a device for destroying the patriarchal authority of

the tribal chiefs, who from time immemorial had governed their clans

according to old Celtic law. It was not to be expected that any such

scheme could be carried out without causing friction with the natives.

They were wholly unaccustomed to obey or respect the royal mandate, and

acknowledged no authority higher than that of their own chief: English

laws and English manners were alike hateful to them. In many districts

they were little better than savages; the "wild Irish," as the more

uncivilized tribes were called, dwelt in low huts of mud, wore no shoes

or head-gear, and were clothed only in a rough kilt and mantle of

frieze. They wore their hair long over neck and eyes, went everywhere

armed to the teeth, and looked on tribal war and plundering as the sole

serious business of life.

[Sidenote: =Resistance of the Irish clans.=]

To teach such a race to live under the strict English law was an

almost impossible task, requiring the utmost patience, and Elizabeth's

ministers and officials were not patient. When the chiefs withstood

their orders, they declared them traitors, confiscated the lands of

whole tribes, and attempted to settle up the annexed districts with

English colonists. This, of course, drove the Irish to desperation, and

the incomers were soon slain or driven away. In return, the Lord-Deputy

of Ireland or one of the "Presidents" of its four provinces would

march against the rebels, slay every male person they met, armed or

unarmed, and leave the women and children to starve. In this ruthless,

devastating war, whole counties were depopulated and left waste, a

few survivors only escaping into woods, bogs, or mountains. The worst

feature of the struggle was the cruel double-dealing employed against

the Irish chiefs; they were often induced to surrender by false

promises of pardon, they were caught and slain by treachery, sometimes

they were even poisoned. The intractable nature of the rebels explains,

but does not excuse, the conduct of the English rulers. The Irish would

never keep an oath or observe a peace; they plundered and murdered

whenever the Lord-Deputy's eye was not on them, and they were always

trying to get aid from Spain.

[Sidenote: =The conflict partly a religious one.=]

At first the struggle between English and Irish was purely a matter

of race, but the religious element was soon introduced. Protestantism

made no head in the country, and in 1579 a Papal Legate, Nicholas

Sanders, came over to organize the tribes to unite in defence of the

old religion. No man could ever persuade Irish parties to join for

long, and Sanders's mission was in that respect a failure. But for the

future the war was embittered by religious as well as racial hatred. In

1580 the Pope sent over a body of Italian and Spanish mercenaries to

aid the rebels; but this force was blockaded by Lord Grey in its camp

at Smerwick, a harbour in Kerry, and every man was put to the sword. At

a later date Philip of Spain sent similar and equally ineffective help.

[Sidenote: =Desmond's Rebellion.=]

The two chief struggles of the Irish against the establishment of the

English rule were that of the tribes of Munster in 1578-83, and that

of the tribes of Ulster in 1595-1601. The former was led by Garrett

Fitzgerald, Earl of Desmond, the greatest lord of the South, the

descendant of one of those Anglo-Norman families which had become

more Irish than the Irish themselves. In his desperate struggle with

Lord-Deputy Grey and the English colonists in Munster, he saw all the

land from Galway to Waterford harried into a wilderness, and was killed

at last as a fugitive in the hills.

[Sidenote: =Tyrone's Rebellion.--Expedition of Essex.=]

The Ulster rebellion of Hugh O'Neil, Earl of Tyrone, the head of the

greatest of the native Irish septs, was far more formidable than that

of the Fitzgeralds. The English could for a long time do nothing

against him. In 1598 he defeated an army of 5000 men on the Blackwater

and slew its leader, Sir Henry Bagenal, and most of his followers.

Tyrone sent for aid to Spain, and so moved Queen Elizabeth's fears that

she despatched against him the largest English force that ever went

over-sea in her reign. An army of 20,000 men was placed under Robert

Devereux, the young Earl of Essex, whom the queen loved most of all men

in her later years, and sent over to Dublin. Essex, though he had won

much credit for courage in Holland, and at the capture of Cadiz, was

not a great general. He pacified Central and Southern Ireland, but did

not succeed in crushing Tyrone. It would seem that he was disgusted

at the cruelty and treachery of his predecessors in the government of

Ireland, and wished to admit the rebels to submission on easy terms. At

any rate, he made a truce with Tyrone in 1600, promising that the queen

should grant him toleration in matters of religion, and leave him his

earldom. Essex returned to England to get these terms ratified, but was

received very coldly by his mistress and her council, who had sent him

to Ireland to suppress, not to condone, the rebellion. His treaty was

not confirmed, and the war with Tyrone went on. The earl got 7000 men

from Spain, and ravaged all Central Ireland, till he was defeated by

Lord Montjoy in an attempt to raise the siege of Kinsale (1601). In the

next year he made complete submission to the queen, and was pardoned

and given back most of his Ulster lands. But the eight years of war had

made Northern Ireland a desert, and the power of the O'Neils was almost

broken.

[Sidenote: =Intrigues and execution of Essex.=]

Meanwhile the short stay of Essex in Ireland had led to a strange

tragedy in London. The young earl had been so much favoured by the

queen in earlier years, that he could not brook the rebuke that fell

upon him for his dealings with Tyrone. Presuming on the almost doting

fondness which his sovereign had shown for him, the headstrong young

man plunged into seditious courses. He swore that his enemies in the

council had calumniated him to the queen, and that he would be revenged

on them and drive them out of office. With this object he gathered many

of the Puritan party about him--for he was a strong Protestant--and

resolved to overturn the ministry by force. He caught the Lord

Chancellor, and locked him up, and then sallied out armed into the

streets of London with a band of his friends, calling on the people to

rise and deliver the queen from false councillors. But he had counted

too much on his popularity; no one joined him, and he was apprehended

and put in prison.

Elizabeth was much enraged with her former favourite, and allowed his

enemies to persuade her into permitting him to be tried and executed

for treason. When he was dead she bitterly regretted him (February,

1601).

[Sidenote: =Last years of Elizabeth.=]

The great queen was now near her end. All her contemporaries, both

friends and foes, had passed away already. Philip of Spain had died,

a prey to religious melancholy, and racked by a loathsome disease, in

1598. That same year saw the end of the great minister, William Cecil,

Lord Burleigh. His colleague Walsingham had sunk into the grave some

years earlier, in 1590. Leicester, whom the queen had loved till his

death-day, had perished of a fever in 1588, the year of the Armada.

A younger generation had arisen, which only knew Elizabeth as an old

woman, and forgot her brilliant youth. To them the vivacity and love of

pleasure which she displayed on the verge of her seventieth year seemed

abnormal and even unseemly.

[Sidenote: ="Monopolies" declared illegal.=]

To the last she kept her talent for dealing with men. There was no

greater instance of her cleverness shown in all her life than her

management of her Parliament in 1601. The Commons had been growing

more resolute and strong-willed as the queen grew older, and though

Elizabeth often chid them, and sometimes even imprisoned members who

displeased her, yet she knew when to yield with a good grace. The

Parliament of 1601 was raging against "monopolies"--grants under the

royal seal to individuals, permitting them to be the sole vendors or

manufacturers of certain articles of trade. Seeing their resolution,

Elizabeth came down in person to the House, and addressed the members

at length, so cleverly that she persuaded them that she was as much

opposed to the abuse as they themselves, and won enormous applause when

she announced that all monopolies were at once to be withdrawn and made

illegal.

[Sidenote: =Death of Elizabeth.=]

Eighteen months after this strange scene Elizabeth died, in her

seventy-first year. On her death-bed she assented to the designation

of James of Scotland as her successor--a thing she would never suffer

before, for she held that "an expectant heir is like a coffin always in

sight."

[Sidenote: =The Elizabethan age.=]

In spite of the many unamiable points in her character, Elizabeth was

always liked by her subjects, and well deserved their liking. She had

guided England through forty-five most troublous years, and left her

subjects wealthy, prosperous, and contented. Her failures had always

been upon the side of caution, and such mistakes are the easiest to

repair and the soonest forgotten. Both in her own day and in ages to

come, she received the credit for all the progress and prosperity of

her reign. The nation, groaning under the unwisdom of the Stuarts,

cried in vain for a renewal of "the days of good Queen Bess." The

modern historian, when he recounts the great deeds of the Englishmen

of the latter half of the sixteenth century, invariably speaks of the

"Elizabethan age." Nor is this wrong. When we reflect on the evils

which a less capable sovereign might have brought upon the realm in

that time of storm and stress, we may well give her due meed of thanks

to the cautious, politic, unscrupulous queen, who left such peace and

prosperity behind her.

FOOTNOTE:

[34]

James IV. = Margaret of England = Earl of Angus.

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James V. Margaret Countess of Lennox.

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Mary Queen of Scots. Henry Lord Darnley.

A history of England · 第 24 / 45 章