Meanwhile, Mary had been taken ill; she had seen her deceitful hopes of issue fade away, and the eyes of all turned towards the prudent Elizabeth, in retirement at her house at Hatfield. She professed a minute attachment to the practices of Roman Catholicism, following, in that matter, without difficulty, the counsels of her politic adviser, Cecil. She had refused the proposals of marriage which had been made to her by several princes, among others by the Duke of Savoy, and the Duke Eric of Sweden. Philip II. would have been glad to rid himself of his sister-in-law by causing her to marry, but Elizabeth contrived to thwart his projects without offending her sister, who ordinarily adopted all the wishes of her husband. She replied to the emissaries of the King of Sweden, who had addressed themselves directly to her, that she could not think of listening to any overtures which had not been sanctioned by her Majesty. Mary was touched by this confidence, and she manifested more friendliness to the princess, who always walked with caution upon the brink of abysses into which the imprudence or unskilful zeal of her friends might have precipitated her. The great nobles attached to the Reformation lived, as she did, in retirement. The Earls of Oxford and Westmoreland, as well as Lord Willoughby, had been reprimanded by the council, upon a question of religion. The Earl of Bedford had even suffered a short imprisonment. Sir Ralph Sadler, one of the usual negotiators of King Henry VIII.—a gentleman who was afterwards often employed by his daughter—had quitted the court, weary of the fanaticism which was displayed there. All awaited in silence the death of Mary, bowing their heads under a yoke which could not last long. The queen, always delicate, had for several months been deeply attacked by a slow fever. She had vainly hoped to recover her strength at Hampton Court. She was brought back to London, and expired in St. James's palace, at the age of forty-three, on the 17th of November, 1558, without having seen the king her husband again. She sighed so bitterly in her death agony that her ladies asked her if she was suffering, commiserating her for the absence of King Philip. "Not that only," she said, "but when I am dead and opened you shall find Calais lying in my heart." On the morrow morning, almost at the same hour, Cardinal Pole died at Lambeth. The two pillars of the Catholic Church in England fell at the same time. Pole would have desired to insure the triumph of his cause by means of gentleness and justice; Mary had supported it by iron and fire. Both were equally sincere and convinced. Mary was of a narrow mind; her character, naturally stern and harsh, had been embittered by injustice and, suffering, but she was straightforward and honest, avoiding the subterfuges and deceits which Queen Elizabeth too often practised; she was animated by a fervent faith, which she deemed it her right and duty to impose by force upon all her subjects. In her breast the sufferings of the heretics excited little compassion, she was hardened against them, but in her private life, and towards her servants, she was good, generous, and capable of affection and devotion. She blindly loved her husband, who neglected and despised her on account of her lack of youth, and the few charms which nature had bestowed upon her. Mary, however, was learned; she wrote pure Latin, she had studied Greek, and spoke French, Spanish, and Italian with ease. She was a good musician, and danced gracefully, her household was a model of order and regularity, and she was a noble example of piety and virtue. The memory of these good qualities and misfortunes pales in the presence of a supreme fault; a terrible stain remains imprinted upon the brow of the unfortunate queen by her fanaticism and her conscientious cruelty. She persecuted piously, she burned sincerely; her acts more than her character, merit the odious name which history has given her. On examining her life closely one is tempted to pity "Bloody Mary."
Chapter XX.
Policy And Government Of Queen Elizabeth.
Her Foreign Relations (1558-1603).
Elizabeth was at Hatfield when Mary died, a striking proof of the distrust which reigned between the two sisters, and which banished one from the death-bed of the other. The princess was devoting herself, as usual, to the serious occupations which were dear to her. Still more learned than her sister, brought up with care by the learned Roger Ascham, Elizabeth had continued the practice of reading some Greek every day; she even translated the rhetorician Isocrates. These literary recreations were interrupted by more urgent cares when the mortal illness of her sister began to bring about her the worshippers of the rising sun. Philip II. had been careful to send her a trustworthy ambassador. The Count of Feria had seen the princess before the death of the queen, and the king believed her to be gained over to the great Catholic confederation, and compelled to rely upon him and to regulate her conduct according to his counsels. She did not consult him, however, upon the course to be followed, when she was apprised of the death of her sister. Sir William Cecil, formerly secretary of state under Edward VI., who being in disgrace under Mary, had prudently submitted to the Roman Catholic requirements, had received all his orders by anticipation. Parliament was sitting, Chancellor Heath repaired to the Houses, and there announced the accession of Queen Elizabeth, "the legitimate and rightful heir to the throne." Cries were raised of "Long live Queen Elizabeth!" Couriers were despatched by Cecil to all the sovereigns of Europe, announcing the accession, and the Lords hastened to Hatfield, to pay homage to the new sovereign. They asked her, upon arriving, what attitude she intended to assume. The Protestants, delivered from an odious yoke, were rejoicing, being convinced that, under the reign of her sister, the princess had concealed her real opinions. The Catholics, who were uneasy, counted upon the influence of Philip II. The first speech of Elizabeth did not enlighten them; it was cautious and measured, announcing no intention of abrupt changes. One indication alone, though slight in itself, soon caused people to feel from which quarter the wind blew; when the queen arrived at Highgate, the bishops came to meet her, and all kissed her hand, with the exception of Bonner, bishop of London, the principal persecutor of the Reformers, upon whom she turned her back. Notwithstanding the solemnity of the Catholic services celebrated in honour of Queen Mary and the Emperor Charles V., who had died a short time before, discreet observers saw that the queen inclined towards the party of the Reformation. Her ministers were yet more decided. Cecil, Pembroke, Northampton, and Lord John Grey, her intimate councillors, were all convinced of the immense progress which Protestantism had made during the persecution of Mary. They perceived, moreover, that the throne of their mistress rested exclusively upon Protestant principles. Subject to the Pope, England must reject Elizabeth as illegitimate, since the marriage of Henry VIII. with Anne Boleyn had not been sanctioned by the Catholic Church, and the succession would be between Lady Catherine Grey, a younger sister of the unhappy Jane, grand-daughter of Mary Tudor, and Mary Stuart, queen of Scotland, dauphiness of France, grand-daughter of Margaret Tudor, wife of James IV., king of Scotland. The legitimacy of Elizabeth and her right to the throne sprang naturally from the act of supremacy. On the occasion of the ceremony of the coronation, on the 15th of January, all the bishops, with the exception of Doctor Oglethorpe, bishop of Carlisle, refused to officiate, striking a fatal blow to Roman Catholic influence in the kingdom by the hostile attitude which they thus assumed from the outset, either by their own action, or by orders emanating from Rome. Elizabeth was, however, crowned by Oglethorpe with all the ancient ceremonies, to the passionate delight of the populace of London, still in favour of the Reformation, who followed her through the streets upon her issuing forth from the Tower, where she had been formerly detained in terror of death; nosegays rained into her carriage, and shouts of gladness resounded in all quarters. Elizabeth received them with that kindly condescension which bound the hearts of her people to her, smiling when she heard the old men in the crowd declare that she resembled King Henry. "Be ye well assured," she said to the multitude that thronged around her at the Guildhall, "I shall stand your good queen." Amidst many faults and even crimes, Elizabeth was destined to keep her promise.
The Protestants were eager to enjoy their triumph, the more eager indeed since they were a little uneasy; the queen had preserved in her chapel a crucifix and a holy-water basin; she had forbidden controversial preaching and the sermons at Paul's Cross. These measures were taken in the interest of peace and concord, it was said, but they did not satisfy the ardour of the Reformers. Lord Bacon relates that on the morrow of the coronation, one of the courtiers presented to Elizabeth a petition in favour of certain prisoners, entreating, since she had in honour of her accession delivered several captives, that she would please also to release the apostle Paul and the four evangelists so long detained in prison, in a foreign tongue, so that they could not converse with the common people. The queen gravely replied that it would be necessary first to ascertain of them whether it was agreeable to them to be released. She had, however, already authorized the reading of the liturgy in English; a commission of theologians were secretly entrusted to revise the Prayer-Book of Edward VI., before restoring it to use. Elizabeth did not approve of all the reforms practised by Cranmer; the English who had taken refuge abroad on account of their religion, and who had returned to England at her accession with a zeal increased by persecution, would soon have drawn the Church of England into a path which was not hers, if the secret tendencies of Elizabeth towards Roman Catholicism and her resolution to maintain the royal prerogative had not energetically resisted their influence. When Parliament met, on the 25th of January, 1559, the queen made no proclamation, leaving to Cecil and the keeper of the seals, Nicholas Bacon (father of the great Chancellor Bacon), the duty of making known her wishes. She allowed the bill of supremacy and the restoration of the tithes and annates to the crown to be proposed and voted. She allowed the laws of King Edward concerning religion to be put in force again as well as the prayer-book as modified by her orders, but the law for the reinstatement of the married clergy interdicted under the reign of Mary, was set aside by her desire. She was never able to approve of the marriage of priests. She also discountenanced the project for a code of canon law, being uneasy, no doubt, concerning the discussions which might spring from it. This double check dissatisfied the party ardent for the Reformation. Elizabeth subsequently asserted that the Protestants had impelled her in her course at the moment of beginning her reign. She took credit to herself; Parliament had not yet raised its head. It was under the prolonged influence of the Reformation that it was destined to foster noble instincts of liberty, and even at times to triumph over the firm will of Elizabeth.
Everything depended upon the marriage of the queen, and of this all parties were sensible. The great bulk of the nation were not so anxious about the selection of a husband as about the husband himself. They ardently desired to see the succession assured, and in the first session of Parliament in 1559, a deputation presented themselves before the queen at Whitehall, with the message, that the Commons conjured her Grace to think of marriage, in order that her posterity might reign over the kingdom. It was the first time that Elizabeth proclaimed that aversion to marriage which was definitely to triumph over so many assaults and momentary hesitations. "From my years of understanding, knowing myself a servitor of Almighty God," she said, "I chose this kind of life in which I do yet live as a life most acceptable unto Him, wherein I thought I could best serve Him, and with most quietness do my duty unto Him." Then, laying stress in a few sentences upon the difficulties which she had overcome under the reign of her sister, in remaining faithful to her resolution, she added, without promising the Commons to marry, that she would never choose any but a husband as devoted as herself to the happiness of her people. "I take your petition in good part, for it is simple and containeth no limitation of place or person. If it had been otherwise, I must have misliked it very much, and thought it in you a very great presumption, being unfit and altogether unmeet to require them that may command. And for me, it shall be sufficient that a marble stone declare that a queen, having reigned such time, lived and died a virgin." The Commons retired without having obtained anything definite. The same demand was to be repeated many times, and to receive answers of a very different kind; but until the end of her life Elizabeth took pleasure in keeping the world in suspense by her grave coquetries, in the expectation of a marriage which she never seriously desired.
While Parliament was imploring the queen to take a husband, the King of Spain. Philip II., solemnly determined, by a conscientious sacrifice, to do her the supreme honour of offering his hand. Being resolved to preserve the place which he had acquired in England, and to retain that powerful kingdom in the bosom of the Catholic Church, he had written to Feria on the 10th of January, 1559, enumerating the objections which might be made to his union with his sister-in-law, and the inconveniences and sacrifices which must result from the step; but by an act of magnanimity of which he was the first to be convinced, Philip had resolved to set aside all obstacles. "You will understand in this what service I render to our Lord; through me her allegiance will be regained to the Church." Philip ended by settling beforehand all the conditions to which Elizabeth was to conform—all the submissions which she was to make to the Pope and to the Church, before being in a position to aspire to the elevation which he destined for her. Paul IV. had ill-prepared the way for the contrition of Queen Elizabeth. In the first days of her accession, when that event had been communicated to the Holy See, as well as to all the sovereigns of Europe, the Pope abruptly replied that, the Princess being illegitimate, she was to beware of laying hands upon the crown, and to lay down the sceptre as soon as possible until he should have declared concerning her rights. This claim had not inclined the queen to appreciate the generous sacrifice of Philip; she meekly rejected the advances of the Count of Feria, asserting that the friendship of her brother of Spain was as dear to her as his love could be, and that the Pope himself could not unite her to the husband of her sister. Feria spoke of the Queen of Scotland. Elizabeth did not suffer herself to be frightened, and without positively refusing the honour which the King of Spain did her, she said laughingly, that she was afraid he might be a bad husband, since he would come to England simply to marry her, but would not sojourn there with her. The confidential letters of Philip had transpired: Feria understood that the definite reply would be unfavourable, but Elizabeth loaded the ambassador with attentions. A peace with France was negotiating at Cambray, and the queen who yet hoped to recover Calais, wanted the support of Philip for this important business. When peace was at length signed at Cateau-Cambresis and the violence of English resentment was appeased, on the 2nd of April, by the promise of the surrender of Calais at the end of eight years, Philip II. transferred to another Elizabeth the honour which he intended for his sister-in-law, by marrying the young Elizabeth of France, daughter of Henry II. "My name brings good-fortune." said the Queen of England on learning, not without ill-humor, the conditions of the treaty, with that singular coquetry which impelled her all her life to make use of every means to retain around her the suitors to whom she would grant nothing. The alliance between England and Spain still continued. "You will assure the queen that I remain her good friend," wrote Philip II. to Feria. He feared that she would turn towards the court of France, which was making great advances towards her. He might have reassured himself. France was then represented, in the eyes of Elizabeth, by Mary Stuart, and that princess had committed a mistake for ever ineffaceable in the eyes of Elizabeth, by quartering upon her escutcheon the arms of England with those of Scotland and France. The dauphin, in confirming the treaty, had also taken the title of King of England, Scotland, and Ireland, a fatal pretension which was to engender many crimes.