CHAPTER XI
ELIZABETH'S SUITORS
Never before did the hand of a woman and its possible bestowal inmarriage play so important a part in the affairs of Europe as did thatof Elizabeth. She contrived to delay and postpone giving an answer toPhilip till his minister wrote home wrathfully, "The English queen ispossessed of ten thousand devils," but at the death of Philip's thirdwife, ten years later, she was not at all displeased when the Spanishambassador suggested pointedly that Philip was "still young enough totake a fourth wife." When France was showing too much favor to Scotlandto suit English notions, she was fully capable of discussing thepossibility of a Scotch husband, and when there was a whisper that oneforeign ruler meditated the rescue of the captive Mary and a marriagewith her, Elizabeth at once sent an agent to him to suggest a marriagewith herself. Whenever her fears of Spain increased, she began tothink of a French alliance. There was always a French suitor ready,for Catherine de Medicis was trying her best to persuade Elizabeth tochoose one of the French princes for a husband.
The English queen kept one suitor waiting in uncertainty for sevenyears, another for eleven. She had all sorts of absurd names for heradmirers; one was her "lap-dog," one her "tame cat," one her "sheep,"another her "frog." Occasionally she found a wooer who was not soready as the others to await her royal pleasure. Three years after allnegotiations with the Archduke Charles, brother of the German emperor,had been broken off, she was talking familiarly with some of the ladiesof the bedchamber, and she said with some indignation:--
"The king of France is to marry one daughter of the emperor, and theking of Spain is to marry another."
"There's many a noble marriage, your Majesty," said one of her ladies."Would that there was one more," she added slily.
"These royal brides have near of kin to promote their interests,"replied Elizabeth. "What can a woman alone do for herself, whether sheis on a throne or on a wooden stool?"
"Your Grace has full many a faithful servant," answered the lady, "whowould be ready to give life and limb to do your will."
"And yet with all these honorable marriages a-making, not one man inthe council had the wit to remind the rest that the emperor has abrother," said the queen and turned away abruptly. The lady understoodwhat was expected of her, and she sent at once for the Earl ofLeicester.
"Would you do aught to gratify her Majesty?" she asked.
"Is there aught that I would not do to gratify her Majesty--oryourself?" he added with a gallant bow. The lady repeated theconversation.
The next day a humble petition came from the council:--
"Far be it from the intentions of your Majesty's servants to suggestanything displeasing to your Grace, but if it be in accordance withyour will, it would be highly gratifying to your councilors, should yougrant this their humble petition that your Highness will consider thematter of the Archduke Charles and the suit that he so recently made."
Elizabeth replied:--
"Of my own will the thought of marriage has ever been far from me, butI cannot refuse the request of my councilors in whose judgment I haveso much confidence."
An ambassador was sent at once to the German emperor with the message:--
"The queen of England regrets deeply that her frequent illnesses,the wars in France and Flanders, and difficult matters in her owngovernment have prevented her from returning a final answer to the suitof his imperial Majesty's brother. If he is pleased to come to England,he will be most welcome, and she doubts not that her subjects can bepersuaded to permit him the free exercise of his own religion."
"It is a pleasure," returned the emperor, "to send to her Majesty, thequeen of England, assurances of my warmest regard. Most highly do Iesteem the honor of receiving a message from a sovereign of such beautyof face and greatness of mind;" and then he continued, not withouta little enjoyment it may be, "My brother is most grateful for herMajesty's good intentions toward him, but he would say that after adelay of three years he had supposed that she did not wish to accepthis suit, and he is now engaged to a princess of his own faith, but heearnestly hopes that the queen will ever regard him as a brother."
The youthful envoy was presented with a silver vessel and treated withall courtesy, but these attentions to her ambassador did not soothe therage of Elizabeth. "If I were a man," she stormed, "and the emperorhad offered me such an insult, I would have called him out to singlecombat."
The last of Elizabeth's wooers was the Duke of Alencon. Catherinede Medicis had tried hard to win the hand of the queen for an olderson who was not at all eager for the honor. When this plan failed,Catherine wrote to her minister in England: "Would she have my sonAlencon? He is turned of sixteen, though but little for his age." Shewent on to say that "this youth had the understanding, visage, anddemeanor of one much older than he is." Elizabeth was thirty-eight, andwhen the scheme was first proposed to Cecil, he exclaimed, "Why, itwould look like a mother with her son."
Elizabeth never refused a suitor at once, and she demanded fullinformation about the Duke of Alencon. "How tall is he?" she asked. Theduke was really so stunted as to be almost dwarfed; he had an enormousnose, a wide mouth, and a face scarred by the smallpox.
"I have waited a long time," said the queen, "and if I should now marrya man so much younger than myself and so badly marked with the pox,indeed I know not what they would say."
"The duke is growing older every day," replied the French ambassador,"and in London there is a learned physician who declares that in two orthree days he can remove all traces of the disease. The duke's heart isfull of love and admiration for your Majesty. If I might venture, butno----" and he thrust back into his pocket a paper that he had partlydrawn forth.
"What is that?" demanded Elizabeth.
"Pardon, your Majesty, but it is a paper that I have no right to show.This is but the private letter of the duke, and was not meant to fallunder the eyes of your Grace." Finally he was prevailed upon to giveher the paper, which proved to be a note--written expressly for thepurpose--from Alencon to a friend in France. She read and reread.
"That is a fair penmanship," said she. "That is marvelously well done."
"And the matter of the letter," asked the ambassador, "is not that,too, well done? It is but the outpourings of an honest heart and of itslongings to win your Grace for himself."
"It is very fairly written," said Elizabeth, and she ended theaudience, but she did not return the note.
The duke wrote many letters to the queen, and they do have an air ofsincerity and earnestness that is different from the writings of someof Elizabeth's suitors. Catherine sent word that the learned doctorfrom London was doing much to improve the appearance of her son's face,but she wished to be sure that the medicines were harmless. "He caneasily practise on a page," she wrote, "and if it does well, he canuse his remedies on my son." The French ambassador hastened to tellthe good news to Elizabeth, but this disappointing sovereign repliedcoolly, "I am really surprised that so loving a mother did not attemptsooner to remove so great a disfigurement."
One June day a young man with two servants appeared at Elizabeth'sgates and demanded to see the queen. It was Alencon himself, and shewas delighted. Of all her wooers not one before had ever dared tocome to England and run the risk of a refusal, but "Monsieur," asthe English called him, had shown himself so bold that the queen wascharmed. He was homely, there was no denying it, but he was brave andgallant, quick and sprightly, and one of the best flatterers that hadever been at the English court. His reception and entertainment weremost cordial, and he went home in full expectation of marrying thequeen.
Not long after this visit Elizabeth called her council to consider themarriage. Cecil in his usual methodical fashion drew up a paper withthe advantages on the left and the disadvantages on the right. Finallythe council reported to the sovereign that they would try to "conformthemselves" to whatever she wished. Then the queen was angry, for shehad expected them to urge her to marry. She cried and she stormed.She told her councilors that the
y cared nothing at all for her safetyand the welfare of the kingdom. They bore her wrath with the utmosthumility, but they did not change their report. Neither did the queenchange her mind, and the marriage treaty was drawn up. The councilorsdid not despair even then, and one evening a well-arranged scene tookplace after the queen had retired to her chamber. Her ladies fell ontheir knees around her. They sobbed and groaned.
"Oh, your Majesty," said one, "such a step cannot bring you happiness."
"The duke is so young," lamented another. "He knows not how to conceiveof your greatness. He will despise you and scorn you because he cannotappreciate such rare excellence of mind. Only a king should be yourhusband."
"Your Majesty, do not forget Queen Mary," one wailed. "Think of hermisery, and do not bring another foreigner into the land."
"How can a queen be governor of the Protestant church and promise toobey a Catholic spouse?" asked one.
Elizabeth turned sharply away without a word, but in the morning shesent for the duke.
"Your Grace," said he with great concern, "it grieves me to the heartto see you pale and tearful."
"Good reason have I for pallor," said she, "for two more nights likethe last would bring me to the grave. The woman who lives in a cottagemay wed whom she will; the queen of England must wed to please hersubjects."
The duke dashed away to his own apartment. "England may well be anisland," he exclaimed, "for the women are as changeable as the wavesthat encircle it." The queen had given him a ring, and now he threw itinto the farthest corner of the room. He would have left England atonce, but Elizabeth would not permit him to go, and when after threemonths he declared that he would stay no longer, she persisted in goingto Canterbury with him, much against his will. He left her weeping, andwhile he was crossing the Channel, she was writing a poem beginning:--
"I grieve yet dare not show my discontent; I love, and yet am forced to seem to hate."
"Monsieur" was the last of Elizabeth's suitors. Eleven years had passedsince his marriage with the queen had first been discussed. She was nowfifty years of age; the country settled into the belief that she wouldnever marry, and most people expected that the next ruler of Englandwould be the son of Mary, the prisoner.
No one knows whether Elizabeth was in earnest or not in any of theplans for her marriage. Leicester said: "Should she decide to marry, Iam all but convinced that she would choose no other than myself,--atleast, she has done me the honor to say as much--but I know not whatto hope or what to fear." In the early part of her reign her subjectswere nearly equally divided into Catholics and Protestants. It washer policy to be a Protestant, but to do nothing that would arousethe Catholics against her, as a Protestant marriage would surely havedone. If on the other hand she had chosen a Catholic, then the rulingpower of the country would have been enraged. She declared over andover that she would never marry one of her own subjects, and she hadnot forgotten the indignation of the English when Mary persisted inmarrying a foreigner. Two things were worth more to this queen thanall else in the world; one was the love of her subjects, the other washer own power. Any marriage that she might make would deprive her insome degree of one or the other. Her word could not always be trusted,but there is certainly some reason for believing that she was truthfulin declaring that she did not mean to marry, and that if she changedher mind, it would be only to obey the demand of the country.
At the same time she enjoyed fancying herself in love with one oranother. She demanded the utmost adoration from her courtiers. Few mencould be comfortable at her court who did not bow down to her as thewisest, wittiest, most brilliant, most beautiful of women. When half ofEurope was raving over the beauty of Mary, Queen of Scots, Elizabethdid her best to oblige Mary's ambassador to admit that she herself wasfar more lovely. She often spoke of herself as the "old woman," but woeto the courtier who did not hasten to assure her that such beauty ashers could never change, that each day only made her more radiant. Shewas always indignant when any of her courtiers ventured to marry, butperhaps this wrath was not so very illogical, for when they had assuredher hundreds of times that all other beauty paled before hers, thatnothing in the world save the radiance of her smile could cheer theirlives, how could she help being enraged when they proved by marriagethat her favor alone would not raise them to the heights of happiness?At last even her favorite Leicester married. Then Elizabeth raged. Shesent him to prison, and would have committed him to the Tower, had notone of her most trusted councilors opposed her lawless proceedings sostrongly.
The older Elizabeth grew, the more gorgeous became her raiment. Whenshe was living quietly at Hatfield House with Mary wearing the crown,she dressed with exceeding plainness and simplicity. It was her bestpolicy then to attract as little notice as possible; but when shewas once safely on the throne, she showed herself a true daughterof Henry VIII. in her love of magnificence. She thoroughly enjoyedriding through streets hung with tapestry; she liked to see flags andstreamers fluttering from the windows of the houses; processions,pageants, shows of all kinds were her delight. As she proved atKenilworth, she could partake of a public banquet, ride on a huntfor half a day, listen to addresses of welcome and explanation ofspectacles produced in her honor; and after so well-filled a day shecould hear the thunder of guns and watch the flashing of fireworks fortwo hours longer without the least sign of weariness.
It is true that when she was alone with her ladies, she was satisfiedwith a comparatively simple dress, but when she was in public and feltherself part of the magnificence, nothing could be too sumptuous. Clothof silver, cloth of gold, the richest of Italian velvet, the heaviestof silk, these were her robes, and there were fully two thousand ofthem. Nor were they plain in their richness; some were covered withpictures of eyes and ears to suggest that whatever was said or done inthe land would come to the knowledge of the queen. Some were coveredwith embroidered illustrations of tales from mythology, or variousdevices that were full of some hidden significance. Aglets of all kindsadorned her gowns, as did buttons and clasps made of gold and enameledor set lavishly with diamonds or pearls or rubies. Her various kindsof head-dresses were marvels, for they were so a-glitter with preciousstones. While Mary of Scotland was a captive, she sent Elizabeth a newyear's gift of a net-work head-dress which she herself had made. Alittle later the French ambassador brought the queen three embroiderednightcaps, also made by the fair hands of Mary.
"In faith, I thank the Queen of Scots," said Elizabeth, "but my councilbe now but scarce recovered from their commotion and jealousy becauseyou brought me a new year's gift from the same lady."
The disappointed ambassador went home with the nightcaps, but at thenext call his luck was better. Elizabeth had determined to accept thepretty present, whether the act pleased her council or not. "Tellthe Queen of Scots," said she, "that I am older than she is. Whenpeople arrive at my age, they take all they can get with both hands,and only give with their little finger." This was indeed true, forElizabeth's hand was always open to a gift, especially to one ofpersonal adornment. When her godson would win a favor from her, hepresented her with a "heart of gold, garnished with sparks of rubies."Her silk-woman brought her one new year's day a pair of black silkstockings, a rare luxury even for a queen, since Spain was the home ofsilk stockings, and from the land of Elizabeth's rejected suitor andher country's enemy but few pairs made their way to England.
"Where did you get the stockings?" asked Elizabeth with delight.
"Your Majesty," she answered, "I once saw a pair brought from Spain,and I made these expressly for your Grace."
"Can you get me more?" asked the queen eagerly.
"This very day," replied the silk-woman joyfully, "I will set upanother pair, and knit more for your Grace."
"I'll wear no more stockings made of cloth," declared the queen. "Theseare pleasant and delicate. I mind me well that my father had two pairs,and by great chance there came a pair from Spain while my brotherEdward was king. No more cloth hose for me, good Mistress Montague."
/> One of the queen's bold sea-captains presented her with a fan made ofred and white feathers, "enameled with a half-moon of mother-of-pearl,within that a half-moon garnished with sparks of diamonds and a fewseed pearls." A fan was once given to her by Leicester which was evenmore dazzling. It was made of white feathers; its handle was of gold;rubies, diamonds, and two superb emeralds were on one side; rubies,diamonds, and pearls were on the other. Leicester's coat of arms wasa bear and ragged staff; therefore, there was a lion rampant with awhite bear lying muzzled at its feet. A pair of gloves was in thosedays a fitting offering "to set before the queen." Handkerchiefs, akind of nightdress that must have served as a wrapper, for it was ofwhite linen embroidered with black and trimmed with lace and spangles,preserved ginger, lemons, pies, a purse of gold coins from a wealthycity or a piece of confectionery from her cook,--whatever came waswelcome.
To live in splendor was the queen's paradise. Her books were bound invelvet, their clasps were of gold or of silver, and wherever therewas space, the glitter of some precious stone flashed forth. Handsomefurniture, fine tapestries, golden plate were her joy. The trappingsof her horses were superb; the harness was of gold and silk, the saddlewas of black velvet embroidered with pearls and gold thread. It wasvalued at seven thousand dollars. Preparing her dinner table was anelaborate ceremonial. Each article of table use must be brought in by aservant preceded by an usher, and before it could be laid on the table,the servant must kneel three times. After it was put in place, theservant knelt once, and then the little procession returned for anotherarticle. When it was time for the food to be brought in, there was muchmore ceremony. Silken-clad lady "tasters," tall yeomen of the guard,and eight maids of honor appeared. Drums and trumpets sounded, andthen the food--rather cold, one would fancy--was borne in state to thechamber of the queen.
With all this love of magnificence Elizabeth had a thrifty notion ofthe value of economy in the adornments of others, and several timesduring her reign she had laws passed forbidding expensive attire. Oneof her proclamations stated that it caused "great inconvenience" tospend so much for dress, and that men were arraying their wives andchildren at so much "superfluous charge and expense" that they were nolonger able to practise hospitality as they ought. "The lowest oughtnot to expect to dress as richly as their betters," declared the queen."It is their pride that makes them rob and steal by the highway."
She even told her subjects just what materials they would be allowed towear. Save for a few exceptions, ambassadors or commanders or Knightsof the Garter, no one but an earl was allowed to wear purple silk orcloth of gold or of silver "tissued." No one below the rank of baronmight dare to adorn himself with gold or silver lace, or wear a swordor rapier or dagger. The wife of a knight was permitted to appear ina velvet gown, cloak, or other upper garment, and she might embroiderthem with silk if she chose, but the wife of even a knight's eldestson could wear velvet only as a kirtle or petticoat. Her upper garmentmight be of satin, but she was forbidden to embroider it.
Elizabeth was not afraid to rebuke her ladies in waiting if their dresswas too expensive to please her. One of them bought a velvet suitelaborately trimmed with gold and pearls. Elizabeth bore its appearanceseveral times, then she had it brought to her secretly and put it on.Out among her ladies she went, wearing the elaborate gown, which wasmuch too short for her. The owner of the velvet and pearls was aghast,but the queen smiled upon her and asked:--
"Think you not, Mistress Mary, that my gown is too short? Does it notbecome me ill?"
"Yes, your Majesty," faltered the poor lady.
"You are right," said the queen, "but mark you well that if it is tooshort for me, it is too fine for you." The gown never again appearedbefore the eyes of the queen.