Fully did the English at this moment appreciate the merits of their Queen. She was extolled, glorified, and almost deified in the exuberance of their joy and loyalty.[23]
Oh that it came within the compass of our pen to describe the appearance of the Court. To introduce our reader, but for one short hour, within the walls of the palace; amidst that throng of princely gentlemen and stately dames clustered around one of the most gifted and extraordinary women that ever wielded a sceptre. Alas! the times are so changed, that the might, the magnificence of royalty, the grandeur of the scene within, and the halo shed around even the precincts of the palace, can scarcely be understood. The stately forms of the bearded yeomen; the glitter of the halbert, and the flash of weapons amidst tower and turret; the emblazoned doublet; the measured tread of men-at-arms on every post, and port, and passage; the lounging pages and servants, who throng the courts and offices; the hundreds of hangers-on upon royalty at this joyous period. The very sacred character of much that pertained to a palace seems to have vanished. The bold grandeur of the times seem to have departed with those cloistered and embattled buildings and the stately beings who inhabited them.
The very precincts of the Court,—the "whereabout of royalty," seemed invested with a sacred character during the reign of Elizabeth. The stern grandeur which pervaded tho habitations of the terrible Harry, her father, still surrounded the various dwellings of the no less majestic daughter.
Our readers must now imagine the Court in all its splendour at that old palace whose gateway and flanking towers still bear the cognizance and initials of the burly Harry; not as now, however, where the echoes of the drum and trumpet which rings and rattles out upon occasion of pomp and parade, reverberated from the goodly dwellings and ample streets by which it is neighboured.
St. James's palace, in Elizabeth's day, stood in the open country. It had been built upon the site of the dissolved hospital of St. James, by the bluff King, and its buttressed walls were surrounded by a sort of chase or park, the grounds of which to the north were, for the most part, wet and marshy. The heron flapped his wing in the pool where now the Green Park is situated, and amidst the tall trees upon the hill, at present called Bond Street, the deer couched in the fern. It was indeed a picturesque and noble building, exceeding handsome, as a writer of the sixteenth century describes it, built of brick, embattled for defence, and surrounded at the top with crenelles, the chase always green, and in which the Court can walk in summer. Indeed, every part around St. James's, built upon and populated as it now is, at the period of our story was the occasional haunt of Queen Elizabeth, where she rode, walked, and meditated, considered her household affairs, or disported with her ladies, her courtiers, and her lovers.
And what a picture did the scene without the palace exhibit a few weeks after the dispersion of the Armada, and whilst many of these noblemen and gentry, who, at the moment remained in London, were in constant attendance upon the Queen, and endeavouring to outshine each other in their devices and designs.
It is near the hour of noon; the sun shines upon tower and turret, and glances bright upon the arms of the various sentinels upon rampart and gateway. Within, the courtyard is crowded with men-at-arms and persons of all ranks passing in and out. And amongst these are the stately forms of many whom the page of history has had occasion to tell of. In the park without, numerous youthful cavaliers are careering about, mounted upon steeds splendidly caparisoned, whilst a mounted guard of honour stands enranked about a bow-shot in front of the principal entrance. Huntsmen and falconers too, bedight with the royal arms, their greyhounds in couples, and other dogs of the chase, are seen amidst the clank of arms, as the sentinels are relieved. Nay, the perfume of the scented courtiers pervade the air as they dismount and enter the palace. The steaming smell of hot dishes and savoury viands also salute the nostril, as cooks, scallions, servitors, and pages, are seen in the inner court leading from the kitchen, as the hour approaches for the royal banquet.
Shift the scene to the interior, and a magnificent sight strikes the eye, "the presence strew'd." The walls are hung with rich tapestry, and on either hand are the nobles of the Court, "a glittering throng." The Queen is about to pass through, and all are bare-headed. What a picture do those men present! Cloaked, ruffed, and rapiered, their Very apparel and arms studded with jewels, their bearded faces, so celebrated for manly beauty,—for the Queen loves to look upon the handsomest men the age can produce,—and limbs, and thews, and features, are sure to find favour in her sight. Whilst the nobility stand thus enranked, (many of lesser note at the bottom of the chamber,) a gentleman usher, dressed in velvet, with a golden chain, suddenly appears, the doors are thrown open, and the majestic Tudor is announced as at hand.
First come forth, with proud step and reared heads, some of those lately so celebrated in the "world's debate." Bare-headed, they have had especial and private audience in the presence. Raleigh, with hawk's eye and aquiline features, his very spirit glancing as he looks good-naturedly, but haughtily around. Then Essex, majestic in mien and regal-looking in demeanour, and seeming to carry on his dress the cost of whole manors. Then Leicester, splendid in person and dress, but with somewhat of a restless, uneasy, and sinister expression; dark as a gipsy, and so haughty and unbending in demeanour, that his countenance freezes the blood in the gazer's veins, and yet withal wearing a sort of smile, ever and anon, to shew his pearly teeth; his hand plays nervously with the hilt of his jewelled poniard, as he bows to the several nobles he recognises. And so they file in, and fall into line on either hand.
And now, whatever of conversation, amidst the assemblage, has been going on, suddenly ceases; and each man standing erect, and with his embroidered cloak advanced somewhat over the left arm, the one hand upon the rapier's heavy hilt, the plumed hat in the other—with eyes of expectation, await the moment of the Queen's appearance. A flourish of twelve trumpets and two kettle-drums immediately ring and rattle out; the battle-axes of the gentlemen-at-arms are lowered; and, lo, the Majesty of England has passed the door.