It is doubtful, even had her hopes of an heir not proved vain, whether Mary would have been able to control the revolutionary movement that had now spread from London into various parts of the country. She had formed an alliance with the most powerful nation in Europe, she had reconciled her kingdom to the one stable institution in Christendom, she had worked incessantly to promote peace between the Emperor and the French King, she had earnestly desired peace in her time; and there was no peace.[507]
The enthusiasm with which her advent had been hailed had entirely subsided, except among the poor, in country towns and villages, who loved her to the last, and with whom she came in personal contact, in the most informal manner, distributing alms, counsel and words of kindness and sympathy. Many of her autograph letters in the Cotton Library testify to the fidelity with which she remembered, through life, the claims of her dependants, although she had scanty means wherewith to reward them. The great royal progresses throughout the country, for which Henry VIII. had had so marked a predilection, were often a heavy tax upon the country people. In the time of hay-making or harvesting it was a serious inconvenience to them to be pressed into the royal service, and to have their horses and waggons seized for the transport of household stuff and provisions for the court. As often as not, they received little or no compensation, while their beasts were so fatigued with the additional labour, that a further loss of time was entailed, before they could use them again. Mary seldom went in progress, and when she did, was careful not to trouble and vex the country people, at times when their well-being for the whole year depended on their industry. If she discovered that her Comptroller had not acted fairly by them, she was extremely indignant, and would not rest till she saw the poor folk righted.
She visited them in their own homes, accompanied by two or three of her ladies, would sit down familiarly among them, and inquire into their manner of living, talking kindly to them, while the poor man ate his supper after his day’s work in the fields, little thinking that he was confiding his troubles to the Queen, for Mary would have no special ceremony paid to her by her suite, in order not to embarrass or confuse him.[508] The help she afforded was always substantial and well advised. If her poor neighbours were overburdened with children, she did not content herself with dispensing alms, but took care to advise them to live thriftily, bring up their boys and girls in the fear of God, and sometimes apprenticed these to an honest trade, so that they might be able to earn their living and better their condition. “This she did,” writes the biographer of the Duchess of Feria, “in a poor carpenter’s house, and the house of the widow of a husbandman. And in this sort did she pass some hours with the poor neighbours, with much plainness and affability; they supposing them all to be Queen’s maids, for there seemed no difference. And if any complaints were made, she commended the remembrance very particularly to Jane Dormer.”[509]
No religious or political agitators had as yet disturbed the loyalty of these simple peasants; but in London, pasquinades directed against the Queen had become of constant occurrence. Offensive and scurrilous language was the order of the day. A boy named Featherstone was made to personate Edward VI. in order to dispute her right. Treasonable books, such as John Knox’s Blast against the Monstrous Regiment of Women, Goodman’s Superior Magistrate, in which Wyatt was invoked as a martyr, Poynet’s treatise on Politic Power, were busily circulated, and roused the spirit of revolt in the minds of thousands of hitherto peaceable citizens. The seditious availed themselves boldly of the shibboleth liberty of conscience and of the 270 persons estimated by Foxe, as having suffered for religion during this reign, many were, quite apart from their religious opinions, traitors, assassins and perjurers. The Venetian ambassador says, in a letter to the Doge, dated 13th May 1555:[510] “Certain knaves in this country endeavour daily to disturb the peace and quiet, and present state of the kingdom, so as if possible to induce some novelty and insurrection, there having been publicly circulated of late throughout the city, a Dialogue written and printed in English, full of seditious and scandalous things against the religion and government, as also against the Council, the Parliament, and chiefly against their Majesties’ persons; and although all diligence has been used for the discovery of the authors, no light on the subject has yet been obtained, save that an Italian has been put in the Tower, he being a master for teaching the Italian tongue to Milady Elizabeth, some suspicion having been apparently entertained of him. The edition of the Dialogue was so copious, that a thousand copies have been taken to the Lord Mayor, who by order of their Majesties, commanded all those who had any of them to bring them to him under heavy penalties.”
A royal proclamation was then issued, to the effect that all books, both Latin and English, concerning “any heretical, erroneous or slanderous doctrines, might be destroyed and burnt throughout the realm,” as also against conveying into the kingdom any books, writings or works by writers thereinafter named. All the names of the principal reformers follow, as also that of Erasmus, who was at that time looked upon with distrust. The Book of Common Prayer “set forth by the authority of Parliament” in the reign of Edward VI. was to be delivered up within the space of fifteen days, to be burned or otherwise disposed of.[511]
But these measures only increased the fanaticism. William Thomas, who had been clerk of the Council under Edward, and was a disciple of the preacher Goodman, plotted to murder the Queen, “for which he was sent to the Tower, and afterwards executed, at which time he said he died for his country”.[512] Wriothesley and Machyn both chronicle a murderous attack made on a priest at the altar rails. The former says: “The 4 day of April (1555) being Easter Day was a lewd fact done in the church of St. Margaret, Westminster. Sir John Sleuther, priest, ministering the sacrament to the parishioners, and holding the chalice in his left hand, one William Branch, alias called Flower, in a serving-man’s coat, suddenly drew a wood knife, and struck the priest on the head, that the blood ran down, and fell both on the chalice and on the consecrated bread. The said person was apprehended, and committed to the Gatehouse in Westminster.” Machyn adds that the ruffian assaulted the priest, after saying that “by the idolatory which he committed, he deceived the crowds of souls there assembled, with other disgusting language, and gave him two deep wounds, one in the hand, the other in the head, that he fell as if dead, causing such an uproar and tumult, in part from the shrieks of the women, and the multitude of persons present, who pursued the man as if to put him to death. It was thought for a moment that the English had risen for the purpose of massacring the Spaniards, and all the other foreigners who lived in that quarter. The man was seized, and burnt for the assault, on the 24th April following, outside St. Margaret’s churchyard.”[513]
This outrage was a bold advance on the part of the revolutionists, who the previous year had contented themselves with derisively hanging a cat on the gallows in Cheapside, dressed in full pontificals.
Holinshed, Stow and Strype all tell a story of a fraud, perpetrated by the Queen’s enemies. Strange sounds were heard to issue from a house in Aldersgate Street, interspersed with obscure words, perfectly incomprehensible, until they were interpreted by certain persons who were in the secret. These told the crowds assembled in front of the house, that what they heard was the voice of the Holy Ghost, warning a wicked and perverse generation. It inveighed, they said, against the Queen’s marriage, and the impiety of the Mass; and the citizens were threatened with war, famine, pestilence and earthquakes. The tumult became so great, that the magistrates ordered the front wall of the house to be demolished, when a young woman, named Elizabeth Crofts, crept out of a hiding place, and confessed that she had been hired to commit the fraud. She was put in the pillory, but afterwards pardoned and sent home.[514]