Chapter XI: The Coming of the King (2)

When the extreme penalty of the law had been suffered by about sixty of the most prominent rebels, a general pardon was extended to the mass of the Kentish insurgents. Four hundred prisoners, with halters round their necks, rode into the tilt yard at Whitehall, where the Queen, from a balcony pardoned them, and ordered them to return home in peace. Of those who still remained in the Tower, eight were pardoned by her prerogative alone. Renard in his despatch of the 27th March says with curious logic:—

“Sire, the Queen of England sent for me last Saturday, and told me that persuaded by the Comptroller, Southwell, Petre, and those who had examined the prisoners, she had pardoned eight of them, having found no ground for suspecting or accusing them of treason in the late rebellion. Among others were the Marquess of Northampton, affirming that he had returned to the old religion, Cobham and his eldest son, Davet (Daniel) and four others whom she did not name, and added that from time immemorial, it had been the custom for the kings of England, on Good Friday to pardon some prisoners. To this I answered that since it had pleased her to dispense mercy, I could not and ought not to make any objection, especially as she had done it by the advice of her Councillors, but that she might have deferred the pardon till it had been ascertained whether they were concerned in the plot or no; for if they were, she had only thus increased the number of her enemies by so many persons, setting them at liberty to strengthen Elizabeth’s party.”[417]

He then goes on to say, that he had expressed doubts regarding the coming of Philip, on account of the divisions in the Council, objecting that he could not come in arms, and yet that if anything befell him, it would be a most disastrous and lamentable scandal. He had advised that the greatest precautions should be taken for his safety, and the Queen had replied with tears in her eyes, that she would rather never have been born, than that any harm should happen to the Prince, that the Council would do their utmost to receive him worthily, that they were making great expense with that object, that the Council should be reformed and reduced to six members, a measure advised by Paget and Petre, and that she, herself, would do all she could, to conciliate her subjects in the matter. The people, she thought, were anxious for the coming of his Highness, and she would exert every effort to have the proceedings against Elizabeth and Courtenay concluded before his arrival.[418] These proceedings had arisen from Wyatt’s behaviour in the Tower, which was singularly at variance with his dashing courage during the revolt. Being questioned with regard to two intercepted notes which he had addressed to Elizabeth, the one advising her to remove to Donnington, the other informing her of his triumphant arrival at Southwark, Wyatt admitted having written to her more than once. Lord Russell, only son of the Earl of Bedford, owned to having carried letters between him and the Princess, and Croft confessed that he had urged her to go to Donnington. All this, together with an intercepted packet containing three letters from de Noailles to Henry II., and a copy of a letter from Elizabeth to the Queen, in answer to one which Mary had sent her, added to Elizabeth’s refusal to obey Mary’s summons, constituted strong presumptive evidence that she was in league with the rebels.[419] Wyatt then denounced Courtenay, who was at once arrested and brought to the Tower, where the two were confronted with each other, Wyatt accusing him of being as great a traitor as himself. He further declared that the object of his rising was to place Courtenay and Elizabeth on the throne. He subsequently repeated the statement, and the second time added, that Monsieur d’Oysel, who came to London in January, on his way to Scotland to take up his functions as ambassador of France at that court, had united his efforts to those of de Noailles, and that they had conspired with Croft to prevent the Queen’s marriage, and to compass her death. The King of France, to enable them the more easily to carry on the chief enterprise, having promised them men and money, was to attack Calais and Guisnes, the moment they set foot in London. Besides this, he was to organise a descent from Scotland, with which object he had already sent some officers to that country, to prepare the way, and he purposed despatching the Vidame de Chartres, with artillery, ammunition, money and soldiers, to begin the war in conjunction with the Scots.[420]

It was not until Wyatt had directly accused Elizabeth of connivance with Henry II. that Mary was convinced of the necessity of securing her person. More than a fortnight had elapsed since the Princess had declared herself unable to travel, and there was still no sign of her coming. The Queen now repeated the summons, but not, as Foxe would have us believe, with inconsiderate cruelty, and rough haste. Lord William Howard, her uncle, Sir Edward Hastings and Sir Thomas Cornwallis, who were sent to escort her, treated her throughout with courtesy and consideration. The Queen’s two physicians accompanied them, in order to decide whether she were well enough to travel, and that she might accomplish the journey with the greatest amount of comfort possible, Mary sent her own litter.

“The Lord Admiral, Sir Edward Hastings and Sir Thomas Cornwallays to the Queen.

“In humble wise. It may please your Highness to be advertised, that yesterday immediately upon our arrival at Ashridge, we required to have access unto my Lady Elizabeth’s Grace, which obtained, we delivered unto her your Highness’s letter, and I the Lord Admiral, declared the effect of your Highness’s pleasure, according to the credence given to us, being before advertised of her estate by your Highness’s physicians, by whom we did perceive the estate of her body to be such, that without danger to her person, we might well proceed to require her in your Majesty’s name (all excuses set apart) to repair to your Highness, with all convenient speed and diligence. Whereunto, we found her Grace very willing and conformable, save only that she much feared her weakness to be so great, that she should not be able to travel and to endure the journey without peril of life, and therefore desired some longer respite, until she had better recovered her strength; but in conclusion, upon the persuasion as well of us as of her own council and servants, whom we assure your Highness, we have found very ready and forward to the accomplishment of your Highness’s pleasure in this behalf, she is resolved to remove her hence to-morrow, towards your Highness, with such journeys as, by a paper herein enclosed, your Highness shall perceive, further declaring to your Highness that her Grace much desireth, if it might stand with your Highness’s pleasure, that she might have a lodging, at her coming to the Court, somewhat further from the water than she had at her last being there; which your physicians, considering the state of her body, thinketh very meet, who have travailed very earnestly with her Grace, both before our coming and after, in this matter. And after her first day’s journey, one of us shall await upon your Highness to declare more at large the whole estate of our proceedings here.”[421]

The distance from Ashridge to Westminster is thirty-three miles. It was decided to accomplish the journey in five days, so that Elizabeth might have ample time to rest on the road, but on her reaching Highgate, she was so ill from some unknown cause, some declaring from poison, others from apprehension, remorse and anger, others again imputing a still more disgraceful reason for her malady, that a week passed before the last stage could be undertaken. By some indeed it was maintained that she was not ill at all, but that the delay was occasioned by Lord William Howard’s desire to screen her, and by his hope that the Queen’s anger might subside before she reached Westminster.[422]

Elizabeth was fully aware, not only of the danger of her situation, on account of the depositions of the conspirators in the Tower, but also of the reports circulated against her honour, and her courage rose as her need became desperate. She had long been an adept in the art of self-defence, and it was on occasions such as this, that her talents shone most brightly. On the 22nd February, between four and five o’clock in the afternoon, escorted by 200 gentlemen of the Queen’s court, she descended the steep hill that lies to the north-west of London, and proceeded to Westminster. The people flocked in immense crowds to meet her, lining both sides of the road, and testifying, now by a mournful silence, now by sighs and groans, their sympathy with her condition.

Renard thus describes the scene:—

“The lady Elizabeth arrived here yesterday, clad completely in white, surrounded by a great assemblage of the servants of the Queen, besides her own people. She caused her litter to be uncovered, that she might show herself to the people. Her countenance was pale, her look proud, lofty and superbly disdainful; an expression which she assumed to disguise the mortification she felt. The Queen declined seeing her, and caused her to be accommodated in a quarter of her palace, from which neither she nor her servants could go out, without passing through the guards. Of her suite, only two gentlemen, six ladies and four servants are permitted to wait on her; the rest of her train being lodged in the city of London. The Queen is advised to send her to the Tower, since she is accused by Wyatt, named in the letters of the French ambassador, suspected by her own councillors, and it is certain that the enterprise was undertaken in her favour. And assuredly, Sire, if now that the occasion offers, they do not punish her and Courtenay, the Queen will never be secure; for I have many misgivings that if, when she sets out for the parliament, they leave Elizabeth in the Tower, some treasonable means will be found to deliver either Courtenay or her, or both, so that the last error will be worse than the first.”[423]

Parliament had been summoned to meet at Oxford, on the 2nd April, and after the session Mary thought of establishing herself at York, in the midst of a Catholic population, a convenient port being in the vicinity. But the Londoners viewed her proposed withdrawal from their city with alarm. The removal of the seat of government from Westminster would deprive them of that consideration which they had always enjoyed; the absence of the court would divest them effectually of their prestige, and the transference of commerce from the Thames to the Tees and the Humber would involve them in financial ruin. This triple loss was apparently to be the only result to them of the blood that had been shed in the cause of independence, and for which they had been largely responsible. The anticipation of it did more to awaken their loyalty, than the spectacle they had lately witnessed of Mary’s queenly courage in the midst of dangers that had paralysed them with fear, or her noble words to them on the eve of the contest at the Guildhall. Overshadowed by the prospect of substantial material losses, they forgot the bugbears with which the French ambassador had threatened them, if the Spaniards should come—forgot that they were to be reduced to slavery, to have the Inquisition forced upon them, and to suffer dishonour and untold horrors, the common heritage of a subjugated race. They petitioned the Queen humbly to remain in their midst, promising to render her all the help in their power, and to welcome whatever marriage she desired.[424]

In consequence of this petition, Parliament met at Westminster, and the Queen abandoned her intention of removing the court to the north. The Royal Marriage Bill was discussed, and passed unanimously in both Houses, after which Mary dissolved Parliament in person, delivering an address that was frequently interrupted by cheers and acclamation. Both Lords and Commons assured her at its close, that the Prince of Spain would be welcomed on his arrival by a dutiful and affectionate people.[425]

The preliminary formalities between the contracting parties, interrupted by the rebellion, had been resumed. Count Egmont had returned to England, bringing with him the ratification of the marriage treaty, and a letter of instructions from Charles. He was to represent to Mary, that as God had been pleased once more to give her the victory over her enemies, and to deliver them into her hands, she should, as they had before so largely abused the clemency with which she had treated them, and in case they had not yet been brought to execution, not delay to do so, but that their chastisement should be prompt, and that she should rid herself of those whose will was so evil towards her, that she might strike terror into the hearts of others. Those who were to be pardoned should be pardoned also promptly, that their fears being removed, they might the sooner lose the desire to attempt anything further against her. Courtenay and Elizabeth should be secured,[426] and the Queen should reflect that in the matter of so manifest a conspiracy against her person, the smallest evidence of guilt might be taken into account, and the persons suspected should be put into a place where they would have no longer the opportunity of doing harm. He added that if the Privy Council could not be induced to proceed against Courtenay, he would be better out of the kingdom than in it, for if the people no longer saw him they would soon forget him. He ought to be either shut up in the Tower or got rid of.

With regard to the mischievous practices of the French ambassador, Egmont was to represent to the Queen, that it would be well, either to send him back to France at once, or to imprison him till he should be recalled, to prevent his doing further harm, giving the French King to understand in either case, what grave cause she had to proceed severely, he having acted in such a manner as to lose altogether his privileges as ambassador. Egmont was also to advise Mary to obtain the recall of the Venetian ambassador, Sorranzo.[427]

With unparalleled effrontery, both the French and Venetian ambassadors presented themselves at court, and congratulated Mary on her victory. The Council thought it advisable that the Queen should conceal her indignation for a time, and she, therefore, received them courteously. De Noailles was, however, closely watched, a measure which he was not slow to perceive, and complain of, whereupon Mary in an audience of the 1st March, reproached him vehemently with having stirred up the late rebellion, and with continuing the same line of conduct with respect to some of Wyatt’s accomplices who had fled into France, meaning probably the Carews and their friends.

De Noailles, of course, denied all that he dared, promised to give entire satisfaction as to the rest, and proceeded forthwith to concoct schemes, by which his promises would be entirely stultified. All that he relates henceforth touching the Queen’s marriage, the punishment of the rebels, and the restoration of the Catholic worship, is coloured by personal animosity, and must be received with caution, his new resentment and annoyance rendering his testimony less trustworthy than before.

On the day after Elizabeth’s arrival at Westminster, the Duke of Suffolk was beheaded on Tower Hill. He confessed his guilt, and expressed a hope that the Queen would forgive him.

“My Lord, her grace hath already forgiven and prayeth for you,” said Dr. Weston, his confessor. “Then,” continued the Duke, “I beseech you all good people, to let me be an example to you all for obedience to the Queen and the magistrates, for the contrary thereof hath brought me to this end.”[428] He called them to witness that he died “a faithful and true Christian, believing to be saved by none other but only by Almighty God through the Passion of his Son Jesus Christ”. His brother Thomas, who was believed to have incited him to rebellion, was also executed, but the Lord John Grey, who was taken with him, was pardoned by the Queen.

At his trial, Wyatt pleaded guilty, and made no defence. He referred his interrogators to his written declaration, and refused to enter into further details. He was condemned to death, but his execution was deferred for a month, in the hope of his giving further information as to the other implicated persons. His accusation of Elizabeth made it necessary that she should be examined, but the result obtained might have been a foregone conclusion. When the Chancellor, with nine members of the Council, went to Westminster, and charged her with complicity in the plot, she replied boldly that she knew nothing of it whatever. Gardiner entreated her for her own sake to throw herself on the Queen’s mercy, and to crave her pardon. But she answered proudly that this would be to confess a crime, and that forgiveness was only extended to the guilty. First, her guilt must be proved, in which case she would follow the Chancellor’s advice.[429] They were obliged to leave without having gained anything by their visit. The councillors were more than ever divided. Those among them who secretly favoured Elizabeth maintained that the legal proof against her was insufficient to justify her being sent to the Tower; the Spanish party were for giving her short shrift. Others again thought that she ought to be closely guarded, but not imprisoned. Mary availed herself of this loophole, and caused each lord of the Council in succession to be asked to undertake the custody of the Princess in his own house. Not one was willing to accept the dangerous office, and when all had refused it, a warrant was made out for her committal to the Tower.[430]

Thoroughly alarmed, and fully expecting to suffer the same fate as her unfortunate mother, Elizabeth denied with oaths and curses that she had ever had any letter from Wyatt, that she had ever written to the French King, or consented to anything that might endanger the Queen’s life. Haughtily she begged those who brought her the news to remember who she was. An hour later, the Earl of Sussex and two other members of the Council dismissed her suite, leaving her only one gentleman, three ladies and two servants. Guards were placed in her antechamber, and in the garden under her windows. The next morning, Saturday, 17th March, the Earl of Sussex and the Marquis of Winchester announced that her barge was in attendance to convey her to the Tower. Her scornful mood having changed to one of deep depression, she entreated to be allowed to wait for the next tide. Lord Winchester answered her tritely, that time and tide waited for no man, whereupon she begged that they would at least permit her to write a few lines to the Queen. Winchester again refused, but the Earl of Sussex, more friendly, gave her leave, and swore that he himself would deliver her letter, and bring her back the answer. She was so long in writing it, that the tide no longer served, and Elizabeth scored her usual point of delay. She obtained, indeed, twenty-four hours respite, for her guards would not risk the midnight tide, for fear of a rescue under cover of the darkness. Mary, extremely displeased, exclaimed with some bitterness that in her father’s time they would not have dared to take upon themselves such disobedience, and vouchsafed no answer to Elizabeth’s letter.

The next day being Palm Sunday, at nine o’clock the warrant was executed, and the Princess conducted through the guards to her barge, which was moored at the water entrance to the palace. Foxe says,[431] “Being come forth into the garden, she did cast her eyes towards the window, thinking to have seen the Queen, which she could not: whereat she said, she marvelled much what the nobility of the realm meant, which in that sort would suffer her to be led into captivity, the Lord knew whither, for she did not,” a remark which, perhaps, savoured of treason more than anything else she allowed to escape her.

According to the chronicler already often quoted:—

“The 18th March, being 1553 [1554], the lady Elizabeth’s grace, the queen’s sister, was conveyed to the Tower, from the court at Westminster, about ten of the clock in the forenoon, by water; accompanying her the Marquis of Northampton [probably a mistake for Winchester] and the Earl of Sussex. There was at the Tower to receive her, the lord Chamberlain. She was taken in at the drawbridge. It is said when she came in, she said to the warders and soldiers, looking up to heaven, ‘Oh Lord, I never thought to have come in here as prisoner; and I pray you all, good friends and fellows, bear me witness, that I come in no traitor, but as true a woman to the Queen’s Majesty as any is now living; and thereon will I take my death’. And so, going a little further, she said to my lord Chamberlain, ‘What, are all these harnessed men here for me?’ And he said, ‘No, Madam’. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I know it is so; it needed not for me, being alas! but a weak woman.’ It is said that when she was in, the lord Treasurer and the lord Chamberlain began to lock the doors very straitly; then the Earl of Sussex with weeping eyes said, ‘What will ye do, my lords? What mean ye therein? She was a king’s daughter, and is the queen’s sister; and ye have no sufficient commission so to do; therefore go no further than your commission, which I know what it is.’”[432]

Elizabeth’s trial began five days after her committal. Gardiner, accompanied by nine members of the Privy Council, proceeded to an interrogatory, concerning what had passed between the Princess and Sir James Croft, as to her proposed removal from Ashridge to Donnington. She feigned at first not to know that she had such a house as Donnington, but after a moment’s reflection, said that she did remember having such a place, but that she had never been inside it. Confronted with Croft, she was asked what she had to say of him, and she replied, that she had no more to do with him than with any of the other prisoners in the Tower, declaring with great dignity that if they had done ill, and had offended the Queen’s Majesty, it was their business to answer for it; and she begged that she might not be associated with criminals of that sort.

“Concerning my going to Donnington Castle,” she continued, “I do remember that Master Hoby and mine officers, and you, Sir James Croft, had such talk. But what is that to the purpose, my lords, but that I may go to my houses at all times?”[433]

Nothing further could be obtained from her; and the Emperor demanded in vain that she should be executed. Mary, although personally convinced of her guilt, as were so many others, would not have her condemned on the evidence of the intercepted letters, because they were written in cypher, which easily lent itself to forgery.[434] In her first Parliament, she had restored the ancient constitutional law of England, by which overt or spoken acts of treason must be proved, before any English person could be convicted as a traitor; and from this position the Queen would not move. She told Renard, that she herself, and her Council, were labouring to discover the truth, but that the law must be maintained.

Nevertheless, Elizabeth’s enemies neither slumbered nor slept, and if we may trust the author[435] of a book called _England’s Elizabeth_, published in 1631, a warrant was actually handed in at the Tower, for her execution, under the Queen’s seal, but without her signature. The Lieutenant, Sir John Bridges, in the absence of the Constable, suspecting foul play, hastened with it to the Queen, who denied all knowledge of the warrant, and expressed great indignation against the Chancellor, who was probably responsible. According to this author, the Queen summoned Gardiner, and several others to her presence, and “blamed them for their inhuman usage of her sister, and took measures for her greater security”. But as the story is unsupported by any corroboration, it seems likely that it was, in its circumstantial points, an invention. Gardiner was known to protect Elizabeth against the clamour of the imperial ambassador for her execution, and indeed he befriended her all through. Nevertheless, there was a very general impression, that her life would have been in danger but for Mary’s determination that the law should not be infringed. It was for Elizabeth’s greater safety that Mary appointed Sir Henry Bedingfeld to be her custodian in the Tower, giving her at the same time leave to walk in the Queen’s lodging, provided that she did not look out through any of the windows, there being so many prisoners in the Tower at that time. A little later, leave was given to her to take the air in the garden, the doors and gates being shut. Here, the child of one of the warders was allowed to come and talk to her sometimes, until it was suspected that Courtenay contrived to communicate with her, by means of a basket of flowers and figs, whereupon the indulgence was withdrawn.

Mary’s solemn betrothal to Philip had taken place on the return of Count Egmont from Brussels, with the Emperor’s ratification of the marriage treaty. The members of the Privy Council having waited on the Queen at Whitehall, Mary proceeded to her oratory, when Egmont was introduced by the Lord Admiral, and the Earl of Pembroke. She knelt down before the altar, and called God to witness the truth of the words she was about to speak. Then rising, and turning towards the assistants (most of whom were in favour of the marriage, and therefore not to be cajoled by her words into toleration of it), she declared that she had not resolved to marry through dislike of celibacy, nor had she chosen the Prince of Spain through any respect of kindred, her chief object being the furtherance of the honour and tranquillity of the realm. She had, she said, pledged her faith to her people on her coronation day, and it was her steadfast resolve to redeem that pledge. She would never permit affection for her husband to seduce her from the performance of this, the first and most sacred of her duties. As Mary ceased speaking, Egmont advanced, and placed on her finger a costly ring, sent by the Emperor on behalf of his son.[436]

Renard, in the meanwhile, took great credit to himself for the promptness with which the rebellion had been quelled. It was no doubt partly due to his advice to the Queen, to remain at her post, at a critical moment, when all other counsellors were entreating her to fly, that the rebels had been put to rout. With great self-complacency, he informed the Emperor, that all the members of the Queen’s Privy Council had become very intimate with him, and admitted that “the firmness of the said Lady had alone gained the victory, for in leaving London, she would have involved the kingdom in danger and ruin”. He remarked however, on the admirable conduct of the English nobility, at the battle of London, and dealt a passing blow at Courtenay, and the young Earl of Worcester, whose cowardice had prompted them to remain always in the rear, without once charging the enemy, but spreading the alarm that the rebels had the advantage, crying out that all was lost, the wish being father to the thought.[437]

But when he went on to express satisfaction at seeing peace re-established, Wyatt discredited by the people, a large number of the nobility well-disposed towards the marriage, and the popular prejudice against it less acute, his credulity clearly overstepped the boundary of facts. The people’s prejudice, thanks to the agitators, was certainly not less acute, the vexed question of the marriage being still inextricably involved in that of religion. To express their hatred of both, the London rabble hung a cat on the gallows in Cheapside “clothed like a priest, and that same day, held it up before the preacher at Paul’s Cross”.[438] During a procession in Smithfield, a man tore the consecrated Host out of the priest’s hand, and drew a dagger. He was seized and taken to Newgate.[439] A musket was discharged at a priest during a sermon, when he was surrounded by nearly four thousand people.

No wonder that Philip delayed his coming! If he escaped the arrow flying by day, how could he guard himself against the hidden enemy that might be lurking in the dish and the cup? Even Renard at last ceased to cry “peace” when all the time there was no security. “It is well-nigh impossible to foresee what the English may do,” he wrote to the Emperor, and advised him to send over a competent steward, “against the arrival of his Highness,” a man of good appearance, adroitness and experience, to superintend the preparing of his food, and to make acquaintance with the officials, and with the customs of the country; otherwise dire confusion and danger would ensue. The want of understanding between Renard and the Queen’s English advisers increased the difficulties at every step. Mary and her Council were for treating the peace disturbers as heretics. The enormities which they practised were all directed against religion, and it seemed just that the punishment should be adapted to the offence. But Renard knew full well that this mode of procedure would but increase the public irritation against Spain, which was at the bottom of the disturbances, and still further complicate the political situation. He never ceased admonishing the Queen to have these outrages dealt with as seditious, and on the 22nd March wrote:—

“Things are in such disorder, that we know not who is well-disposed or ill-disposed, constant or inconstant, loyal or traitorous. One thing is certain, that the Chancellor has been extremely remiss in proceeding against the criminals, and most ardent and hot-headed in the affairs of religion, being so hated in this kingdom, that I have doubts whether the detestation against him will not recoil on the Queen. Assuredly, Sire, I have never ceased to admonish her as to the necessity of a prompt punishment of the prisoners. I have given her Thucydides translated into French, so that she may understand what advice he gives, and what kind of punishment ought to be inflicted on rebels.”[440]

Renard’s natural dislike of Gardiner, and the divergence of their aims, probably spoke here more eloquently than the fact justified. Other evidence will show that Gardiner was not hated, even by the reformers, with the exception of Foxe.

But there was ample ground for Renard’s fear lest Mary’s popularity should decline, and not least among the reasons for such a decline was the fact, that she had abrogated the law framed by her father, by which libels on the sovereign were punishable by death. The country was inundated, at this time, with foul and scurrilous sermons and pamphlets, the perpetrators screening themselves behind the Queen’s strictly constitutional mode of government, knowing that the utmost penalty for language that would be an insult to the meanest woman in the land, and which they freely indulged in to vilify their Queen, would but cause them a brief and slight inconvenience. Thus we hear of two men in the pillory in Cheapside “for horrible lies and seditious words against the Queen’s Majesty and her Council,”[441] and this kind of punishment became now of frequent occurrence, although most of the slanders were anonymous, and could never be traced to their authors.

As to Renard’s constant refrain that “the prisoners,” meaning of course Elizabeth and Courtenay, should be promptly punished, it must be admitted that he spoke with full knowledge of the danger they represented. Their names were ever on the lips of the rebels, and on the 7th April a letter was found dropped in the street, in favour of the Princess, “as seditious as could possibly be conceived”. Even Gardiner confessed that there was no hope of peace or tranquillity for the realm while she was in it, and he advised that she should be sent abroad, and placed under the care of the Queen of Hungary, the Emperor’s sister.

Sir Thomas Wyatt was brought to the scaffold on the 12th April,[442] and so contradictory are the statements as to his conduct and words at the moment of death, concerning the guilt of the accused pair, that absolutely nothing can be deduced from them. According to the sheriffs who were present at his last interview with Courtenay, Wyatt asked his pardon for accusing him. According to Lord Chandos, who was also present, he urged Courtenay to confess his crime. On the scaffold he is said to have uttered these words: “Where it is noised abroad, that I should accuse the Lady Elizabeth and the Lord Courtenay, it is not so, good people; for I assure you, neither they nor any other now yonder in hold, was privy of my rising before I began, as I have declared no less to the Queen’s Council, and that is most true”. Upon this, however, Weston said: “Mark this, my masters, that that which he hath shown to the Council of them in writing is true,” and Wyatt by his silence implied that he consented to what Weston had said.[443] But as no fresh evidence was forthcoming, and as the case against Elizabeth had not been formally proved, she was released from the Tower on the 18th May, exactly two months after her committal. As she left, three volleys of artillery were discharged from the Steelyard in sign of rejoicing and congratulation.[3] A few days later Courtenay was also released, and sent to Fotheringhay.

Sir Henry Bedingfeld had already for some time had the charge of the Princess, and it was to his care, and that of the Lord Williams of Thame, that she was confided, on her removal to Woodstock. Foxe’s account of the supposed insults offered to her by Sir Henry Bedingfeld, totally unsupported by any other evidence, falls into the region of romance, the source of much that has been written about Elizabeth at this period. When she came to the throne Bedingfeld frequently appeared at court and was on the best terms with her, she playfully styling him her jailer.

Nevertheless, Elizabeth was very closely kept and watched during the months of her captivity at Woodstock, allowed to see none but those appointed to be near her, and deprived of materials for writing, even to Mary, unless with direct permission. It would, however, have been very unlike what we know of her astuteness, if she had not contrived means of communication with her friends. It was shortly before leaving Woodstock, that she wrote with a diamond on a pane of glass, the famous three lines, two of which sum up the whole case for and against her:—

Much suspected by me,
Nothing proved can be,
Quoth Elizabeth, prisoner.

At last Philip showed signs of leaving Spain. On the 19th June, arrived his precursor, the Marquis de las Naves, bringing presents for the bride. These were: “A great table diamond mounted as a rose, in a superb gold setting, and valued at 50,000 ducats; a necklace of eighteen brilliants, worth 32,000 ducats; a great diamond, with a fine pearl pendant from it, worth 25,000 ducats, and other jewels, pearls, diamonds, emeralds and rubies of inestimable value, for the Queen and her ladies”.

Philip left Valladolid on the 4th May, and his progress through the north-western provinces of Spain was a splendid pageant, for the crowds of spectators that flocked to meet him, with demonstrations of intense and passionate devotion. He remained several days at Compostella to pay homage to the patron saint of Spain. Here, he signed his marriage contract, brought from England by the Earl of Bedford, and then proceeded to Corunna, where a flotilla of more than a hundred sail was anchored in the bay.

Accompanied by 4,000 picked troops, destined for the Netherlands, he embarked with a numerous suite, including the Flemish Counts, Egmont and Horn, the Dukes of Alva and Medina Cœli, the Prince of Eboli, the Count, afterwards Duke, of Feria, and all the flower of the Spanish nobility, together with their wives, their vassals, musicians, and even jesters, and a number of useless servants, in order to swell his train, add to the splendour of his cortège, and impart a notion of his magnificence.

The imperial ambassador in London had advised him to come with as little state as possible, “in order not to excite the jealousy of the English,” but perhaps the philosophy of the younger man was deeper than that of the statesman. The good-will of a people may be won by frank simplicity; their ill-will is rarely conquered but by a display of power and circumstance, which commands their respect.

After an agreeable sail of a few days, the Spanish fleet encountered that of England, commanded by Lord William Howard, who was lying in wait for the Prince, in order to conduct him into British waters. The Admiral at once offended the Spaniards, by speaking of their ships as mussel-shells; and it was reported, that on nearing the Spanish fleet, he ordered a salvo of cannon to be fired, to oblige the Spaniards to lower their flag in returning the salute, thereby acknowledging the supremacy of the English. If these reports reached Philip’s ears, they would be eloquent to him of the spirit stirring beneath the apparent cordiality of his welcome. But there was nothing in the grave courtesy of his manner, and in the high breeding which gave dignity to his slight and otherwise almost insignificant figure, to indicate that he was not solemnly satisfied with all that he heard and saw.

On the 19th July, the united fleets anchored in Southampton water. Immediately, a number of small craft put out, and foremost among them the Queen’s own yacht, superbly decorated, and manned with officers wearing the royal livery of green and white, to bring the Prince to land.[444]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 378: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 310.]

[Footnote 379: Nevertheless, Froude has no authority for the assertion, in support of which he has interpolated words into Renard’s despatch of the 17th December 1553, to the effect that the Queen was bent on Elizabeth’s death (vol. vi., p. 129). No such words occur in the letter to which he refers (Record Office Transcripts, vol. i., p. 853) or in any other.]

[Footnote 380: Record Office Transcripts, Belgian Archives, vol. i., p. 603.]

[Footnote 381: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 382: _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 310.]

[Footnote 383: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 34.]

[Footnote 384: Machyn, p. 50.]

[Footnote 385: De Noailles, _Ambassades_, vol. ii., p. 234, etc. Lingard, vol. vii., p. 147.]

[Footnote 386: Charles himself proposed that Philip should have no share in the government.]

[Footnote 387: So highly was this treaty esteemed by the statesmen of the following reign, that in the negotiations for a marriage between Elizabeth and the Duke of Anjou, the marriage articles of Philip and Mary were repeatedly quoted in a memorial endorsed by Lord Burghley, and still preserved at Hatfield, in answer to objections brought forward against the Queen’s marriage with a foreign prince. “It behoves her Majesty” said Elizabeth’s ministers, “to have the like proceedings herein as was for Queen Mary’s marriage.” The country should not be governed by a foreigner, but by the Queen herself and her Council, by the laws of the realm “as it was in the time of King Philip and Queen Mary” (Historical MSS. Commission, Hatfield MSS., vol. ii., pp. 241, 243, 288, 291-93, 544, 556).]

[Footnote 388: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 34.]

[Footnote 389: Friedmann, _Dépêches de Giovanni Michiel_, introd., p. xxi.]

[Footnote 390: Mary had only promised to make no changes other than those approved by Parliament. With regard to her marriage, she had given no promise at all.]

[Footnote 391: Griffet, p. xxv.]

[Footnote 392: Renard to Charles V., Feb. 1554, _Papiers d’Etat du Cardinal de Granvelle_, vol. iv., p. 405.]

[Footnote 393: Strype, _Ecclesiastical Memorials_, vol. iii., part i., p. 126.]

[Footnote 394: Record Office Transcripts, vol. ii., p. 287.]

[Footnote 395: Rosso, _I Successi d’Inghilterra_, p. 44.]

[Footnote 396: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 37.]

[Footnote 397: Heylin, pp. 165-263.]

[Footnote 398: _Diary_, p. 52.]

[Footnote 399: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 38 _et seq._]

[Footnote 400: “The saying of William Cotman in the County of Kent, Smith, this present Tuesday, January 1553” (1554). Printed in Tytler’s _England under the Reigns of Edward VI. and Mary_, vol. ii., p. 277. The people were fed with falsehoods; the Devonshire and Cornish men refused to stir, and Hampshire was quiet.]

[Footnote 401: Record Office Transcripts, vol. i., pp. 1175-76.]

[Footnote 402: _A Chronicle of England_, vol. ii., p. 108.]

[Footnote 403: Foxe, _Acts and Monuments_, vol. vi., p. 414.]

[Footnote 404: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 41.]

[Footnote 405: Stowe, p. 619.]

[Footnote 406: _Edward Underhill’s Journal_, Strype, vol. iii., pt. i., p. 137.]

[Footnote 407: Holinshed, p. 1098.]

[Footnote 408: “Exhortation against Rebellion,” printed in the _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc. (Additions and Corrections), p. 188.]

[Footnote 409: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 50.]

[Footnote 410: Wriothesley, p. 110.]

[Footnote 411: Machyn, p. 55.]

[Footnote 412: Strype, _Memorials_, vol. iii., pt. i., p. 141.]

[Footnote 413: _Ibid._, p. 146.]

[Footnote 414: Burnet, vol. ii., p. 437.]

[Footnote 415: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 54.]

[Footnote 416: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 61.]

[Footnote 417: Record Office, Belgian Transcripts.]

[Footnote 418: Record Office, Belgian Transcripts, vol. i., pp. 1200-9, and vol. ii., p. 1.]

[Footnote 419: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 420: Record Office, Belgian Transcripts, vol. i., pp. 1200-9, and vol. ii., p. 1.]

[Footnote 421: Record Office, State Papers, Domestic, 1554, vol. iii., 21: Ashridge, 11th Feb.]

[Footnote 422: Record Office, Transcripts, vol. i., p. 1223. De Noailles, vol. iii., p. 78. It was of course the French ambassador who suggested poison as the possible cause of her illness.]

[Footnote 423: Record Office Transcripts, Belgian Archives, vol. ii., p. 4; printed by Tytler, _England under the Reigns of Edward VI. and Mary_, vol. ii., p. 310.]

[Footnote 424: _Ibid._ Griffet, p. 39.]

[Footnote 425: Lingard, vol. v., p. 441 _et seq._]

[Footnote 426: The Emperor was evidently unaware that Courtenay was already in the Tower.]

[Footnote 427: Record Office Transcripts, vol. ii., Instructions of Charles V. to Count Egmont.]

[Footnote 428: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 64.]

[Footnote 429: Foxe, vol. viii., p. 607. Heywood, _England’s Elizabeth_, p. 89.]

[Footnote 430: Lingard and Miss Strickland have supposed with Griffet, that Mary herself questioned the Lords of the Privy Council on this subject. But Wiesener points out (_La Jeunesse d’Elisabeth_, p. 224 note) that in the document on which P. Griffet supports the statement, namely, Renard’s letter of the 22nd March, no mention is made of the Queen’s presence at that sitting; and he agrees with Froude that the question was probably put by the Chancellor.]

[Footnote 431: Vol. viii., p. 608.]

[Footnote 432: _Chronicle of Queen Jane_, etc., p. 70.]

[Footnote 433: Foxe, vol. viii., p. 610.]

[Footnote 434: Elizabeth herself had no such scruple at the trial of Mary Queen of Scots, who was convicted on evidence obtained from letters written in cypher, and which she persistently declared to be forgeries.]

[Footnote 435: Thomas Heywood.]

[Footnote 436: Griffet, p. 39.]

[Footnote 437: Renard, _Ses Ambassades et ses Négociations_, par M. Tridon, p. 198 note.]

[Footnote 438: _Grey Friars’ Chronicle_, p. 88. “A dead cat having a cloth like a vestment of the priest at Mass with a cross on it afore, and another behind put on it; the crown of the cat shorn, a piece of paper like a singing-cake put between the forefeet of the said cat, bound together, which cat was hanged on the post of the gallows in Cheap, beyond the Cross, in the parish of St. Matthew, and a bottle hanged by it; which cat was taken down at 6 of the clock in the morning, and carried to the Bishop of London, and he caused it to be showed openly in the sermon time at Paul’s Cross, in the sight of all the audience there present. The Lord Mayor with his brethren, the aldermen of the city of London, caused a proclamation to be made that afternoon, that whosoever could utter, or show the author of the said fact, should have £6 13s. 4d. for his pains, and a better reward with hearty thanks. But at that time after much enquiry and search made, it could not be known, but divers persons were had to prison for suspicions of it” (Wriothesley, _Chronicle_, vol. ii., p. 114).]

[Footnote 439: Machyn, _Diary_, p. 64.]

[Footnote 440: Record Office, Belgian Transcripts, vol. ii.]

[Footnote 441: Machyn, _Diary_, p. 64.]

[Footnote 442: “The xii day of April was Sir Thomas Wyatt set upon the gallows on Hay Hill, beside Hyde Park, where did hang three men in chains, where the Queen’s men and Wyatt’s men did skirmish, where he and his captains were overcome, thank be to God” (Machyn, _Diary_, p. 60). According to Wriothesley, Wyatt was beheaded on Tower Hill “at 6 o’clock in the forenoon, and his body after quartered on the scaffold” (_Chronicle_, vol. ii., p. 115). Wriothesley gives the date of his execution as the 11th April. It is probable that one of his quarters was set on the gallows on Hay Hill.]

[Footnote 443: Lingard remarks, that as for Elizabeth and Courtenay not being “privy” to Wyatt’s rising, “it may certainly be true, for he rose unexpectedly six weeks before the time originally fixed upon” (_History of England_, vol. v., p. 434 note). Holinshed says that Wyatt protested against being pressed to say anything more in his wretched condition; that he declared it went against him to accuse any one by name, but that having confessed everything to her Grace, he begged that he might be tormented with no more questions (_Chronicle_, 1103, 1104, 1111).]

[Footnote 444: Mgr. Namèche, _Le Règne de Philippe II_, etc., vol. i., p. 43. Tytler, _Edward VI. and Mary_, vol. ii., p. 414.]