(A.D. 1533-1603.)
Elizabeth was one of the most learned and distinguished queens that ever lived, and there is no other about whom so many celebrated authors have written.
A.D. 1533. She was the daughter of Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn, who were living at Greenwich Palace at the time of her birth. When she was four days old her christening was conducted with great pomp and ceremony,—the lord mayor, all the aldermen and council of the city of London, besides a great number of knights and lords, being present.
Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury, stood godfather on that occasion, the Duchess of Norfolk and the Marchioness of Dorset being godmothers. The gifts to the little princess consisted of costly gold cups, bowls, and salvers.
Elizabeth did not remain with her parents; for the royal nursery was at Hunsdon, where, surrounded by every comfort and luxury that an infant could possibly need, she was lovingly tended by Lady Margaret Bryan. This lady had also taken charge of the Princess Mary, and had proved herself to be a woman of such rare sense and excellent qualities that she was eminently fitted for her post as superintendent of the household. While Anne Boleyn lived King Henry fondled and petted her little daughter; but after her head was cut off and her place supplied by another.
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She was just four years of age, and the Earl of Hertford carried her in his arms to the font; but when the procession left the chapel the two Princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, walked out hand in hand, their trains being supported by noble ladies, who followed close behind.
Fortunately for Elizabeth her early youth was passed in seclusion, which afforded opportunity for the cultivation of her mind, and thus prepared her for the exalted position she was to occupy later. other wife, his petting was succeeded by neglect and even cruelty, that must have been a sore trial to the child as well as to faithful Lady Bryan.
A.D. 1537. Elizabeth was seen in public for the first time when her little brother, Edward VI., was christened. She and Prince Edward were warmly attached to each other, and he, at least, was never happier than while they were permitted to live together. It was she who gave him his earliest instruction in walking and talking, and it was to her that he turned for comfort in all his childish sorrows.
A.D. 1539. When only six years of age Elizabeth presented her little brother with a shirt made entirely by her own hands; which proves that she must have learned to handle her needle at a very early age.
As they grew older these children played and studied together, and Edward relied for advice on "his sweetest sister," as he loved to call her, until he was separated from her. It was their custom to rise at daylight and devote a couple of hours to religious exercises and the reading of Scripture. After breakfast they studied languages, science, and the works of the best authors; then Edward would seek exercise in the open air, while his sister occupied herself with her music or needlework.
Edward's first real source of grief was his separation from this beloved sister when he ascended the throne. It was his desire to have her with him even then; but his selfish councillors, being jealous of any outside influence, interposed to prevent it.
His devotion to Elizabeth lasted until death: she had been his earliest playmate, and no difference in religious views had ever risen to interfere with the congeniality that marked their intercourse. It was different with Mary, who was a rigid Roman Catholic, and always opposed the Protestant tendencies of her brother and sister.
When Henry VIII. married Anne of Cleves, Elizabeth wrote her stepmother a most dutiful, affectionate letter, in which she expressed desire to make her acquaintance. An opportunity soon offered, when the queen was so charmed with the wit and beauty of the young princess that at the time of her divorce she requested that they might be permitted the interchange of visits, which was granted.
The next stepmother, Katherine Howard, loved Elizabeth too, and treated her with marked tenderness and consideration, giving her the place of honor near the throne at all public entertainments.
With a view to strengthening the friendly relations between England and other countries, King Henry tried at various times to form an alliance for his daughter with several powerful princes; but fortunately for her all his plans fell through.
Under the guidance of her fourth stepmother, Katherine Parr, who was a very learned woman, Elizabeth pursued her studies uninterrupted by any thought of matrimony, which at so early an age, and planned for state purposes, must have proved a misfortune.
She lived in retirement with her father's widow for a year after his death; and though she set up an independent establishment of her own when she was fifteen years old, she and Katherine Parr continued to be fast friends as long as that lady lived.
A.D. 1545. Even at that early age, Elizabeth was well-informed in geography, architecture, mathematics, and astronomy, besides being an accomplished Latin and Greek scholar. She spoke and wrote French, Italian, Spanish, and Flemish; but her favorite study was history, to which she devoted three hours a day.
A.D. 1553. She displayed no small amount of shrewdness when her brother died, which was remarkable in so young a woman. Edward's illness had been concealed from his sisters by the wily statesmen who kept strict guard over him, and who had used every effort to foster the ill-feeling that existed between him and his relations. As soon as his death occured they wrote Mary and Elizabeth that he was seriously ill, and desired their presence at his bedside. The object was to secure the two princesses, lock them up in prison, and proclaim Lady Jane Grey successor to the crown of England; but Elizabeth, suspecting some plot, took not the slightest notice of the letters. When the Duke of Northumberland offered her a liberal sum of money, besides a tract of land, providing she would resign her right of succession in favor of Lady Jane Grey, she replied, "that an agreement must first be made with her elder sister, during whose life she had no right nor title to resign."
It was not without a difficult struggle that Mary got possession of the crown, and while it was going on Elizabeth pretended to be desperately ill and remained quietly at home. No sooner was it assured than she recovered and went in state, at the head of a large retinue, to welcome the new queen. Then the two sisters rode side by side, in grand procession through London, and were, apparently, on the best of terms. Nobody who witnessed that procession could fail to observe the contrast between the two royal ladies. Poor Mary, whose life had thus far been one of sadness, anxiety, and ill-health, sat on her horse almost bent double, and looking like a woman of middle age, although she was only twenty. Elizabeth, on the other hand, whose fine, majestic form and gracious manners won every heart as she smilingly bowed to the right and left, looked every inch a queen, and Mary sank into insignificance by her side. Her face, though not handsome, was pleasing, and her dark eyes shone with gratification at the attention she attracted. Throughout her life Elizabeth's delicate, well-formed hands were a source of pride to her, and she never lost an opportunity of displaying them to the best advantage. Within a month the affection that the two sisters entertained for each other was seriously impaired on account of their difference in religion, which created a great deal of ill-feeling. Elizabeth refused to attend mass, which, though gratifying to the Protestants, deeply grieved and offended Mary.
The state councillors regarded Elizabeth's conduct in this matter as a mark of disrespect, and wanted to have her arrested; but the queen refused at first to take any extreme measures, and contented herself by turns with threats and persuasion.
Elizabeth remained firm in her desire to appear as the heroine of the Reformers, though for the sake of policy she consented to read several religious books recommended by the queen, and even accompanied her once or twice to church. As a reward Mary bestowed many favors on the princess, and placed her in prominent positions on state occasions. This was just what Elizabeth sought; for she knew the importance of keeping herself before the nation, and never lost an opportunity of appearing as Mary's successor. Her manners were so gracious that she became a great favorite among the court ladies, and thus excited her sister's jealousy to such a degree that when a charge of treason was brought against her Mary lent a willing ear to it. Elizabeth was able to prove her innocence; but she felt so indignant at having been suspected that she requested permission to retire to the country and thus rid herself of court intrigue.
She took up her abode in her own house at Ashbridge; but even there she was not left in peace, for the queen was anxious to have her marry the Spanish Prince, Philibert of Savoy, and the King of France was constantly making her offers of protection and aid if she would only assert her claim to the throne. He even proceeded so far as to advise her to go to France, which would have been a most unwise move on her part, and wrote her letters in a secret language. This had the effect of rendering her position extremely critical; but fortunately Elizabeth's judgment was so excellent that she knew how to save herself from the friends who would unintentionally have done her more harm, had she taken their advice, than her enemies.
A.D. 1554. She was recalled to court at the time of the insurrection under Wyatt, because she and Courtenay were accused of having urged it with a view to getting the Protestant party into power. She was quite ill when the summons reached her, but obeyed it as soon as possible, and chanced to arrive in London on the very day of the execution of Lady Jane Grey. No doubt she trembled for the safety of her own head while the queen was daily signing the death-warrants of those who really had turned against her or appeared to have done so. The public mind was in such a state of excitement on account of the numerous executions that were taking place, that many wept as the young princess rode through the streets attended by a guard of honor, consisting of a hundred gentlemen, for they supposed that she was being led to the block. Dressed in a robe of pure white, Elizabeth sat up in a litter and looked around with a proud, lofty air. Her youthful appearance touched many a heart; but not one arm or voice, in all the multitude that had assembled to gaze upon her, was raised in her defence.
With a retinue of six of her ladies, two gentlemen, and four servants, she was lodged in a wing of Westminster Palace; and although she knew that the privy council were debating as to whether she should be executed or no, she was unable to get sight of her sister or to plead her cause in any way.
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Many charges were brought against the princess, but Mary's conscience forbade the shedding of her sister's blood; so, after a few weeks' deliberation, she shut her up in the Tower.
Elizabeth's letters to the queen, asserting her innocence, were unnoticed. She was forbidden to use English prayer-books, and compelled to hear mass. Two of her ladies who objected to this were dismissed by the queen's orders and replaced by Catholics. At first she was kept in close confinement, but after a while her health began to suffer, and she was permitted to take exercise in a little enclosed garden.
The officers and servants about the prison were respectful and attentive to the royal lady, and their children would bring her flowers from time to time. Her love of children was great throughout her whole life, and their ready sympathy during her imprisonment was most pleasing to her.
One day a little four-year-old child picked up a bunch of keys and carried them to her in the garden, saying:
"I have brought you the keys now, so you need not always stay here. You can unlock the gates and go out whenever you please."
Another child, the son of one of the soldiers, received so many tokens of reward from the royal prisoner in return for the bouquets he carried her, that he was, before long, suspected of acting as messenger between her and her fellow-prisoners, Courtenay and Lord Robert Dudley. Such may not have been the case; but the boy was prevented from again seeing the princess, and his father was severely reprimanded.
Elizabeth could not have regarded Lord Robert Dudley in the light of a friend when she was sent to the Tower, because she knew that he had favored Lady Jane Grey's cause; therefore, the fact that he was in her good graces immediately upon her accession to the throne, proves that he must, in the interval, have found some means of seeking and obtaining her pardon. Whether or no notes and messages passed between them within the walls of the gloomy Tower can only be conjectured.
At the expiration of a couple of months, Elizabeth was removed to Woodstock, where her life was less painful, though she was never allowed to forget that she was a prisoner under close surveillance. A band of armed men kept watch around the walls of the palace night and day, and she was allowed no visitors.
She passed many hours at her needlework, and composed several pieces of poetry, which are scarcely worthy of being repeated. But her time hung heavily on her hands, and she was tortured by constant dread of her life being in danger. One day when sitting in her garden she heard a milkmaid merrily singing at her work, and said with a weary sigh: "Ah! her case is better, and her life is happier than mine; would I were a milkmaid, too!"
With the hope of softening her sister's heart towards her, Elizabeth attended mass, went to confession, and, with the advice of Cardinal Pole, even proclaimed herself a Roman Catholic. She displayed a great deal of self-possession, when the queen, who still doubted her sincerity, notwithstanding her professions of religion, caused her to be questioned as to her opinion of a real Saviour in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. She hesitated for only one moment, then replied in these extempore lines:—
"Christ was the word that spake it;
He took the bread and brake it,
And what his word did make it,
That I believe, and take it."
Elizabeth's policy had the desired effect, and to her inexpressible delight she was invited to Hampton Court to spend the Christmas holidays with her sister, the queen. But a little disappointment awaited her on her arrival there; for much to her surprise she was still destined to be treated as a prisoner, and it was a whole fortnight before any notice was taken of her being at the palace, or before any one was admitted to visit her.
A.D. 1555. She kept constantly wondering what this could mean, but had no opportunity of finding out. Quite unexpectedly one night she was summoned to the presence of the queen. Trembling with fear, and as to her fate, she was conducted by torchlight to the royal apartments. On entering she threw herself at Mary's feet and declared that she was a most true and loyal subject. In fact, she conducted herself throughout the interview in so submissive a manner, that at its close she was dismissed with tokens of affection and a beautiful ring. After that she was relieved of the presence of the guards and keepers and treated with marked respect by the principal personages of the realm.
Although Philip, Mary's husband, could never quite forgive Elizabeth because she had refused to marry his friend, Philibert of Savoy, he was extremely kind to her, and did his part towards rendering the holidays a delightful season of enjoyment for her. At one of the grand pageants the young princess wore a rich white satin dress, embroidered all over in large pearls; and when she made her appearance in the hall, both Cardinal Pole and the king kneeled down and kissed her hand.
A.D. 1556. The following autumn she went to live at Hatfield, where, surrounded by her old, attached friends, she established her household to her own liking. Her learned instructor, Roger Ascham, was one of the inmates, and under his guidance Elizabeth resumed her study of classical literature.
A.D. 1557. In February the queen made her a visit, and was entertained in a sumptuous manner. There were daily amusements consisting of performances on the virginals, chorus singing, acting, and sumptuous banquets, as well as hunting parties, in which both the royal ladies took part.
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During the next summer the queen invited Elizabeth to an entertainment at Richmond. She was conveyed there in her majesty's own barge, which was richly decorated with garlands of artificial flowers, and covered with a green silk canopy embroidered in gold. Four ladies accompanied her, and six boats, containing her retinue, followed. The queen received her in a magnificent pavilion in her garden. This pavilion was made in the form of a castle and covered with purple velvet and cloth of gold, on which appeared the Spanish coat of arms, in honor of King Philip. A fine feast was served to the royal ladies, after which a number of minstrels performed. The next day Elizabeth returned to Hatfield, where she remained quietly until the following November, when Queen Mary died, and she was proclaimed her successor.
A.D. 1558. Heralds, stationed at the grand door of Westminster Palace, as well as at other public places, announced the new sovereign with the sound of trumpets, while bells were rung, bonfires lighted, and ale and wine generously dealt out to the populace by the wealthy citizens.
All exhibitions of mourning for the dead queen were quickly replaced by celebrations in honor of the living one, whose accession was regarded with the keenest interest by the whole nation.
Elizabeth's first public act, after receiving the privy council, was to appoint her principal secretary of state. Her choice was Sir William Cecil, who not only proved himself a great statesman, but remained Elizabeth's staunch friend to the day of his death.
On the twenty-eighth day of November the new queen entered the city of London, attended by a train of about a thousand nobles, knights, gentlemen, and ladies, and proceeded to the Charter-house. Next, in accordance with an ancient custom, she proceeded to the Tower. On that occasion the streets through which she passed were spread with fine gravel. The public buildings were hung with rich tapestry, and guns were fired at regular intervals. The queen was mounted on her palfry, richly attired in purple velvet: a vast concourse of people had gathered to greet her, and as she approached, preceded by her heralds and great officers, joyful shouts and acclamations filled the air, while she gracefully returned the salutations of even the humblest of her subjects.
At various points the procession halted while the queen was welcomed with music, speeches, or a chorus of children. She seemed pleased with everything, replied to the addresses, noticed everybody, and frankly expressed her gratification at the honors that were showered upon her. Her early misfortunes had taught her a wholesome lesson, and in adversity she had learned the worth of Wordsworth's immortal words:—
"Of friends, however humble, scorn not one."
Attended by Lord Robert Dudley, who had already been appointed to the lofty position of master of the house, Elizabeth entered the Tower, once her dungeon, now her palace, and proceeded straight to her former prison apartment, where falling on her knees she offered up a loud, fervent prayer of thanksgiving.
While passing through the court of the Tower she turned to those near her, and said: "Some have fallen from being princes in this land to be prisoners in this place; I am raised from being a prisoner in this place to be prince of this land, so I must bear myself thankful to God and merciful to men."
After a few days in the Tower the queen went to Somerset House for a fortnight, and then to the palace of Westminster, where she spent Christmas.
The next matter of importance that occupied Elizabeth's attention was her coronation, for which preparations were already going forward in London. It seems strange that so learned a woman as Queen Elizabeth should have been superstitious, but such was indeed the case, and she scarcely ever took an important step without previously consulting Doctor Dee, the well-known conjuror.
Consequently Robert Dudley was sent to request this humbug to appoint a lucky day for the coronation. After consulting the stars and other heavenly bodies he decided upon Sunday, January 15.
All the favorite summer residences of the Tudor princes stood on the banks of the Thames. Therefore, as the streets of London were narrow and badly paved, it was the custom of the court to pass from one to the other by water. The nobility owned their own barges, and the rowers wore liveries distinguished by the crests and badges of their employers.
Three days before the solemn and imposing coronation ceremony was to take place, a grand procession of boats was arranged for the purpose of conducting her majesty from Westminster to the royal apartments in the Tower.
Rich tapestries, hangings of silk and velvet, gorgeously embroidered in gold and silver, hung from the balconies of the houses all along the route, while gay banners, pennons, and flags floated from the roofs. All the public and private barges were drawn forth in grand array, festooned with garlands of flowers and bright new flags. Bands of music accompanied the procession, and cannons were fired during its entire progress.
On the 14th the queen's passage through the city took place. She appeared in a superb chariot, preceded by trumpeters and heralds in armor, and drawn by richly caparisoned horses. A retinue of lords and ladies followed on horseback, the latter wearing crimson velvet habits. The gentlemen wore gowns of velvet or satin richly trimmed with fur or gold lace, costly gold chains, and caps or hoods of material to match the gown, adorned with feathers and jewels.
Elizabeth did not sit quietly back in her chariot as other sovereigns did; she kept constantly acting—making speeches, smiling, pressing her hand to her heart, and raising her eyes to heaven as occasion seemed to demand. This peculiar behavior delighted the populace, who showered their sovereign with nosegays and rent the air with shouts and cheers. Several times she stopped the procession to say a few pleasant words to some particularly poor-looking individual, and a branch of rosemary presented by a shabbily-dressed old woman occupied a prominent place in the royal chariot until its arrival at Westminster.
By such trifling actions Elizabeth won the hearts of even the lowest of her subjects. It was her policy to please, and no woman was ever more perfect in the art. She listened with profound attention to the poems and speeches that accompanied the pageants arranged at different points along Cheapside, where every house was decorated and rich carpets covered the path. The pageants were similar to the triumphal arches of the present day. They were erected of wood, and had appropriate sentences in Latin and English inscribed upon them. At each one a child was stationed to explain to the queen in English verse the meaning of the device.
One pageant represented an allegory of Time and Truth. "Who is that old man with the scythe and hour-glass?" asked Elizabeth. "Time," was the reply. "Time has brought me here," she returned. Truth held a Bible which, at the recital of a particular part of the verse, was let down by a silken cord into the queen's chariot. She received the volume with both hands, and reverently pressed it to her heart and lips, declaring in a loud tone that she thanked the city more for that gift than any other, and added that she would read it diligently. Equal attention was bestowed on the other pageants; and just as she passed through Temple Bar Elizabeth stood up, and, facing the crowd, exclaimed in farewell: "Be ye well assured, I will stand your good queen."
The shouts that arose in response sounded above the report of the guns.
Next morning the queen appeared at Westminster, attired in a mantle of crimson velvet, lined and trimmed with ermine and fastened with cords, tassels, and buttons of silk and gold. Her jacket and train were also of crimson velvet, and gold lace adorned her head-dress. She wore no jewels, and her coronation was remarkable for its simplicity. The Episcopal bishop, Oglethorpe, performed the ceremony, but he followed the Roman Catholic ritual without the slightest change. Though Elizabeth was a Protestant, she raised no objection to the Catholic service until the following Christmas, when just at the moment for making her offerings she arose abruptly, and, followed by her whole retinue, left the chapel. Had any objection been made to this proceeding she would have pleaded sudden illness, but finding it universally approved, she ordered the service to be for the future performed in English, which was never done in the Catholic church.
The learned Doctor Parker was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, and it was through his influence that the Church of England was established nearly in its present state.
One of the queen's earliest acts was to send friendly messages to all the Protestant princes of Europe; at the same time she assured the pope that she would not interfere with the religious views of any of her subjects. Thus she hoped to conciliate both parties. As a rule, she was gracious to her former persecutors; but to one member of Queen Mary's household who had been impertinent to her, and who hastened to throw himself at her feet as soon as she was raised to power, she said: "Fear not; we are of the nature of the lion, and cannot descend to the destruction of mice and such small beasts."
Queen Elizabeth made an enemy of Philip, her sister's widower, by refusing his hand when she was twenty-five years of age; but in doing so she announced her determination never to marry at all.
Her popularity increased to such an extent that the lower classes idolized her, and the nobles and gentlemen of her realm were thirsting for an opportunity to risk their lives in her service.
She appeared in public very frequently, and when her rowing parties took place crowds flocked to the river banks to welcome her with music and fireworks. When she went to Greenwich for the summer all sorts of exhibitions were planned to furnish an excuse for Londoners to flock there.
Much of Elizabeth's popularity was due to the fact that she spared no pains to render the national holidays enjoyable to every class of her subjects. Though she, too, enjoyed the festivities with all the zest of a young, sprightly, healthy woman, her pleasure was not by any means unalloyed.
One serious cause of anxiety was the knowledge that Henry II. of France was constantly trying to place his daughter-in-law, Mary Stuart, on the throne of England, and there was a powerful Catholic party who felt her claim to be a just one. But death soon put an end to the king's interference, and calmed Elizabeth's fears from that source.
Then Mary Stuart's husband, Francis II., threatened to assert her rights; but he was too sickly and insignificant a person to take the stand his father had done, and death removed him also out of the way.
So many suitors sought the young queen's hand that we are reminded of what Shakspeare says of Portia in "The Merchant of Venice": "While we shut the gate on a wooer, another knocks at the door."
A.D 1559. Elizabeth coquetted with them, accepted their numerous and costly presents, made use of them to further her plans or carry some point with her council, but never with the slightest intention of marrying any one of them.
When at last Philip II. married she pretended to feel dreadfully mortified, and told the Spanish ambassador "that his king was very inconstant, since he could not wait four short months to see whether she would change her mind."
The person most favored by Queen Elizabeth at that time was Robert Dudley, who afterwards became Earl of Leicester, and much jealousy was aroused among the members of the council on account of it. Dudley was married to Amy Robsart, a beautiful and wealthy heiress, who never appeared at court. For some reason or other she resided in a solitary country mansion, where she died quite suddenly. It was given out that an accidental fall had caused it, but there were strong suspicions of murder, and Robert Dudley was not held entirely innocent of it. However, no inquiry was instituted, and the queen would hear no complaints of her favorite. She took occasion to remark publicly that as Dudley was at the palace when his wife died she was convinced of his innocence.
A.D. 1560. In 1560 Mistress Montague, her majesty's silk woman, presented her with a pair of knitted silk stockings, which pleased her so much that she laid aside forever the cloth kind she had always worn. A decided change had taken place in the queen's wardrobe, for in her youth she was noted for the extreme simplicity of her attire; but no sooner did she ascend the throne than she gave full swing to her vanity, and purchased more finery than any Queen of England had ever done. She had three thousand dresses and eighty wigs of different styles and colors. She was positively loaded down with pearls, jewels, velvets, furs, and embroidery. Her costumes were neither pretty nor tasteful; for their object seemed to be nothing but a display of gaudy colors and showy jewelry.
Elizabeth's court was conducted with great magnificence, and those whose duty it was to supply the royal household were often guilty of robbing and imposing upon the farmers. Complaints were made to her majesty, who always lent a willing ear to her subjects, and invariably compensated them for their loss. One day, when she was walking in the fields with her lords and ladies, a sturdy countryman placed himself in her path, and as she approached called out in a rude, coarse tone: "Which is the queen?" She turned towards him with an encouraging smile; he repeated the question, looking from one lady to another, until Elizabeth stepped forward and said: "I am thy queen; what wouldst thou have with me?"
"You!" exclaimed the man with a look of surprise and admiration. "You are one of the rarest women I ever saw, and can eat no more than my daughter Madge, who is thought the finest lass in our parish, though short of you; but the Queen Elizabeth I look for devours so many of my hens, ducks, and capons that I am not able to live."
Now Elizabeth was always indulgent to any one who paid her compliments, but upon inquiry she found this man to be both unjust and dishonest, so she had him severely punished.
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Among the preparations for Easter it was the queen's custom to wash the feet of twenty poor women, to each of whom she gave a new gown and the white cup from which she had drank to them. The same afternoon she appeared in St. James's Park and distributed two thousand silver coins, valued at eight pence each, among as many poor men, women, and children. These public acts of charity endeared the sovereign to her people, for they were always the occasion of a holiday, and gave the humblest citizens an opportunity of speaking to her. The coins thus bestowed were worn by the recipients as precious amulets, and handed down in their families as heirlooms in memory of the gracious queen.
Nobody ever visited the palace on any errand whatsoever without being invited, according to his station in life, to partake of a meal at one of the tables. No wonder that Elizabeth was a popular sovereign, and that her's was called a "golden reign."
In 1560, at great loss to her treasury, she called in all the base coin that Henry VIII. had caused to be made, and returned to every person the full value in new sterling silver and gold.
A.D. 1561. Late in the summer of 1561 Elizabeth made a journey through her kingdom, and was received with public rejoicings and displays wherever she went. These progresses, as they were called, occurred several times during Elizabeth's reign, when she was magnificently entertained at the various mansions of the nobles whom she honored with her visit.
Queen Elizabeth was so skilled in the art of ruling that she knew a country was never so sure of enjoying the blessing of peace as when prepared for war, so she took pains to provide her's with ample means of defence. She gave orders for gunpowder that had been purchased in other countries to be manufactured in England. Engineers and arsenals were furnished for all the fortified towns along the coast and the Scottish borders; forts were built, garrisons increased, and the wages of sailors and soldiers doubled. So many ships-of-war were built, and the navy was increased to such an extent, that after a reign of four years England could command a fleet with twenty thousand men at arms. Strangers called Elizabeth "Queen of the Sea;" her own subjects proudly styled her the restorer of naval glory.