CHAPTER II
THE CHILD ELIZABETH
It was a strange household at Hunsdon, a baby ruler with crowds ofattendants to do her honor and obey her slightest whim. Over all wasthe strong hand of the king, and his imperious will to which everymember of the house yielded save the one slender girl who paid no heedto his threats, but stood firmly for her mother's rights and her own.
For more than two years all honor was shown to the baby Elizabeth,but on the king's marriage to Jane Seymour, he commanded his obedientParliament to decree that Elizabeth should never wear the crown, andthat, if Jane had no children, the king might will his kingdom to whomhe would. To the little child the change in her position was as yeta small matter, but to the young girl of twenty-one years the futureseemed very dark. Her mother had died, praying in vain that the kingwould grant her but one hour with her beloved daughter. Mary was fondof study and spent much of the time with her books. Visitors were rare,for few ventured to brave the wrath of Henry VIII., but one morning itwas announced that Lady Kingston awaited her Grace.
"I give you cordial greeting," said Mary. "You were ever true to me,and in these days it is but seldom that I meet a faithful friend."
"A message comes to your Grace through me that will, I hope, give yousome little comfort," said Lady Kingston.
"From my father?" cried Mary eagerly.
"No, but from one whose jealous dislike may have done much to turnthe king against you, from her who was Anne Boleyn. The day beforeher death," continued Lady Kingston, "she whispered to me, 'I havesomething to say to you alone.' She sent away her attendants and bademe follow her into the presence chamber of the Tower. She locked andbolted the door with her own hand. Then she commanded, 'Sit you down inthe royal seat.' I said, 'Your Majesty, in your presence it is my dutyto stand, not to sit, much less to sit in the seat of the queen.' Sheshook her head and said sadly, 'I am no longer the queen. I am but apoor woman condemned to die to-morrow. I pray you be seated.' It seemeda strange wish, but she was so earnest that I obeyed. She fell uponher knees at my feet and said, 'Go you to Mary, my stepdaughter, falldown before her feet as I now fall before yours, and beg her humbly topardon the wrong that I have done her. This is my message.'"
Mary was silent. Then she said slowly:--
"Save for her, my mother's life and my own would have been full ofhappiness, but I forgive her as I hope to be forgiven. The child whomshe has left to suffer, it may be, much that I have suffered, shall beto me as a sister--and truly, she is a winsome little maiden." Mary'sface softened at the thought of the baby Elizabeth.
She kept her word, and it was but a few weeks before Mary, who had oncebeen bidden to look up to the child as her superior, was generouslytrying to arouse her father's interest in his forsaken little daughter.Henry VIII., cruel as he showed himself, was always eager to havepeople think well of him, and in his selfish, tyrannical fashion, hewas really fond of his children. Mary had been treated most harshly,but she longed to meet him. Her mother was dead, she was alone. If hewould permit her to come to him, it might be that he would show herthe same kindness and affection as when she was a child. She wrote himsubmissive letters, and finally he consented to pardon her for daringto oppose his will. Hardly was she assured of his forgiveness beforeshe wrote:--
"My sister Elizabeth is in good health, thanks to our Lord, and such achild as I doubt not but your Highness shall have cause to rejoice ofin time coming."
The months went by, and when Elizabeth was about four years old, amessage came from the king to say that a son was born to him, and thatthe two princesses were bidden to come to the palace to attend thechristening.
Such a celebration as it was! The queen was wrapped in a mantle ofcrimson velvet edged with ermine. She was laid upon a kind of sofa onwhich were many cushions of damask with border of gold. Over her wasspread a robe of fine scarlet cloth with a lining of ermine. In theprocession, the baby son was carried in the arms of a lady of highrank under a canopy borne by four nobles. Then came other nobles, onebearing a great wax candle, some with towels about their necks, andsome bringing bowls and cups, all of solid gold, as gifts for the childwho was to inherit the throne of England. A long line of servants andattendants followed. The Princess Mary wore a robe of cloth of silvertrimmed with pearls. Every motion of hers was watched, for she wasto be godmother to the little child. There was another young maidenwho won even more attention than the baby prince, and this was thefour-year-old Princess Elizabeth. She was dressed in a robe of statewith as long a train as any of the ladies of the court. In her handshe carried a golden vase containing the chrism, or anointing oil, andshe herself was borne in the arms of the queen's brother. She had beensound asleep when the time came to make ready for the ceremony, for thechristening took place late in the evening, and the procession set outwith the light of many torches flashing upon the jewels of the noblesand ladies of rank and upon the golden cups and bowls.
Along the wide hall and down the grand staircase went the glitteringline. The baby was christened "Edward," and then was proclaimed "thebeloved son of our most dread and gracious Lord, Henry VIII." On thereturn the little Elizabeth walked beside Mary, keeping fast hold ofher sister's hand, while the long train was borne by a noble lady ofthe court. The trumpet sounded all the way back to the royal bedchamberwhere lay the queen, waiting to greet her son with her blessing. It wasmidnight, and Elizabeth as well as her baby brother must have been gladto be allowed to rest.
Only a few days later came the death of the mother of the littleprince. Greatly as King Henry disliked black, he wore it for fourmonths, even on Christmas day. Elizabeth was probably at Hunsdon, butMary spent Christmas with her father. She did not forget the littlesister, but sent her a box decorated with silver needlework made by herown hand. She gave the baby brother a cap which must have been veryelaborate, for it cost enough to pay the wages of a working man forfour months. To the baby's nurse she sent a bonnet that cost half asmuch as the cap. Another gift, which she herself made, was a cushioncovered with rich embroidery.
This baby brother was a delight to both the princesses. Mary went oftento see him, and looked after him as if he had been her own child, andto Elizabeth he was the most precious thing in all the world. "I prayyou, take me to see my brother," she often pleaded. One day the oldersister said to her, "Elizabeth, is there aught that I can do to pleaseyou greatly?"
"I would gladly go to see my brother," was the child's answer.
"That cannot well be," said Mary. "Is there nothing better that you canwish?"
"No, sister."
"But there is surely one thing better. When it is two of the clock,stand you close by the west window of the hall, and what is to comewill come."
Clocks were not very common in those days, but there was one in thehall at Hunsdon, and the excited little girl watched the hands moveslowly around until they marked the hour of two. What was to come?
A little after two a single rider appeared. "Make way for his Grace,Edward, Prince of Wales!" he cried. Then came the trumpeters and,following them, the nobles. After the nobles came the royal baby forwhom all this ceremonial had been arranged. He lay in the arms of hisnurse, "Mother Jack," and was borne in a litter. The upright poles wereheavily gilded, and the canopy was of the richest white silk edged witha golden fringe. Clusters of white plumes were fixed at each corner. Onthe shoulders of eight men rested the shafts of the chair. All aroundit gathered noble lords and ladies, mounted on horses whose trappingswere marked with the monogram of many a family of rank and power. Everyman wore a sword to defend the heir of England's king, if need shouldarise, and stalwart guards marched on either side.
"It's my own little brother," cried Elizabeth.
"And he comes to abide with us for a while," said Mary. "Is not thatbetter, my little sister, than going to him to pay a visit of a day?"
"Will Lady Margaret grant me leave to show him my birds and my rabbits?He shall play on my virginals, if he will; and, truly, I'll not mindthe sharp prick of the ne
edle, if I may but sew a dress for him. Iwould fain learn to make letters with the needle, sister Mary, that Imight sew one all myself on everything that he will wear. Oh, it willbe an 'E,' even as it is on whatever is mine."
It is quite possible that the next few years were the happiest thatElizabeth ever knew. She was four years older than Edward, and she hadbeen so carefully trained by Lady Margaret that King Henry was gladthat she should be the playmate of the sweet-tempered little fellow whowas his only son and heir. Lady Margaret was troubled because Edward'sbest coat was "only tinsel" instead of cloth of gold, and because hehad "never a good jewel to set on his cap;" but this was nothing to thelittle prince so long as he had his sister. Lady Margaret wrote to theking that she wished he could have seen the prince, for "the minstrelsplayed, and his Grace danced and played so wantonly that he could notstand still." Elizabeth taught him to speak, and for his sake she evenconquered her dislike to the "prick of the needle," for when his secondbirthday came and the rich nobles of the kingdom sent him jewels andall sorts of beautiful things made of gold and silver, she gave him atiny cambric shirt, every stitch of which had been made by the littlefingers of his six-year-old sister. Mary sent him a cloak of crimsonsatin. The sleeves were of tinsel. It was heavily embroidered with goldthread and with pansies made of pearls.
It was about this time that King Henry sent an officer of high rankexpressly to bestow the royal blessing upon the two princesses. On hisreturn he reported to the king the grateful message that Mary had sent.
"And how found you her Grace, the Lady Elizabeth?" asked King Henry.
"Truly, your Majesty," replied the chancellor, "were the Lady Elizabethnot the offspring of your illustrious Highness, I could in no wayaccount for her charm of manner and of speech. 'I humbly thank hismost excellent Majesty,' she said, 'that he has graciously deigned tothink upon me, who am verily his loving child and his true and faithfulsubject.'"
"She is but six years old," mused Henry. "Were those her words?"
"I would gladly have had pen and paper," answered the chancellor, "thatno one of them should have been lost, but I give the message as it hasremained in my memory. She asked after your Majesty's welfare with asgreat a gravity as she had been forty years old."
More than one trouble came to the older princess. Soon after the kinghad sent his blessing to the two sisters, a councilor came to Mary witha message of quite another character.
"It is his Majesty's pleasure," said he, "that your Grace shouldreceive the Duke Philip of Germany as a suitor for your hand." ThisGerman duke was a Protestant, and Mary was a firm Roman Catholic, butshe dared not refuse to obey the king's bidding.
"I would gladly remain single," said she, "but I am bound to obey hisMajesty. I would, too, that the duke were of my own faith, but in soweighty a matter I can do naught save to commit myself to my mercifulfather and most sovereign lord, knowing that his goodness and wisdomwill provide for me far better than I could make provision for myself."
The duke sent her a beautiful diamond cross, but before a year hadpassed, she was bidden by the king to return the gift. Henry had weddeda German wife, and had treated her so badly that Mary's betrothal wasbroken.
There were sad times in England in those days. When Henry VIII. wishedto marry Anne Boleyn, he asked the Pope to declare that his marriage tothe mother of Mary was not lawful. The Pope refused. Henry then askedthe opinion of several universities in England, Italy, and France, andit is probable that his question was accompanied by either bribes orthreats. The universities declared the first marriage unlawful, butthe Pope would not yield. Henry then declared that the English churchshould be free from the Pope, and that the king himself was properlythe supreme head of the church in his own kingdom.
There were tyrants, and most cruel tyrants before the days of HenryVIII., but they were generally satisfied to rule men's deeds. Henrywas determined to rule his subjects' most secret thoughts. If hesuspected that a man did not believe that his divorce was right, hewould pursue the man and force him to express his opinion. If the manwas too honest to tell a falsehood, he was imprisoned or executed,for Henry said that it was treason to refuse to acknowledge that theking of England was at the head of the church of England. Many of thenoblest, truest men in the land were put to death for this reason. Thiswas not all, for although Henry would not acknowledge the authorityof the Pope, he nevertheless declared that he was a Roman Catholic,and that all Protestants were heretics and deserved to be burned todeath. The result of this strange reasoning was that if a man was aProtestant, he ran the risk of being burned at the stake, while if hewas a Roman Catholic, he was in danger of being hanged.
Mary was often at the court. She must have heard her father's brutalthreats against all those who did not love his will. One after anotherof her childhood's friends was beheaded or burned at the stake; herold teacher, her mother's chaplain, and the beloved countess to whosecare her mother had confided her as an infant. Not a word or look ofcriticism might she venture, for the despot would hardly have hesitatedto send his own daughter to the stake if she had dared to resist him inthis matter.
The case was quite different with Elizabeth and Edward. They knewlittle of burnings and executions. Whatever of gentleness and kindnesswas in King Henry was shown to the children, especially to his son.The little ones played and studied together. "My sweetest and dearestsister" was the little boy's name for Elizabeth. She was a favoritewherever she went. The king married three times after the death of JaneSeymour, and each of these stepmothers was fond of the merry, pleasinglittle girl.
The first of the three was the German princess. She was rather slow anddull, and Henry took a great dislike to her. When the little Elizabeth,then about seven years old, begged to be allowed to come to court tosee the queen, King Henry roared, "Tell her that her own mother was sodifferent from this woman that she ought not to wish to see her." Thiswas the only time that he ever spoke of Anne Boleyn.
Elizabeth met the new stepmother after a short delay, and this lady wasso charmed with the little maiden that she begged to see much of her,the only favor that she ever asked of the king. The next wife was adistant relative of Anne Boleyn, and when she dined in public, she gavethe place opposite herself to the child. "She is of my own blood," saidthe queen, "and it is only right that she should be next to me."
At Henry's last marriage Mary and the two children were present, andthis new queen became like the others a warm friend of Elizabeth, whowas now fully ten years old. Henry must have felt some affection forAnne Boleyn, for he was never displeased to hear the praises of herdaughter. He seemed beginning to have a real fondness for the child,and one day he looked at her keenly and said:--
"There's more than one that would be glad to have you. Would you bemarried, Elizabeth, or would you stay with your books and birds andviols and lutes?"
"I would fain do that which your Majesty bids," answered the child. "Iknow well that what your Majesty commands is ever the thing which isbest."
"She's a child of wisdom," declared Henry with a smile ofgratification, "and I'll do more for her than anyone can guess." Thensaid he to Elizabeth:--
"It shall be brought about that you shall become the bride of somegreat man. If any German emperor plays you false, he shall feel theweight of my hand. How would it please your Grace to marry a prince ofPortugal?" he asked playfully, for he was in a rarely good humor, "orperhaps Philip of Spain? Philip will be a king, and he would make you agreat lady. Would it please you to wed one that would make you a queen?"
"Far rather would I wed one that I could make a king," answered thechild, drawing herself up to her full height.
"What!" cried the king, his face changing in a moment, and his eyesflashing ominously. The girl seemed looking not at the king, but faraway into some distant future. She did not see the warning glance ofthe queen.
"I would fain be so beautiful and so great," said she, "that whoevercame near me should admire me and should beg me to become his wife.I would say no to one and all, bu
t by and by I would choose one formyself. Him I would raise to be as great as I, and I would----"Elizabeth of England, even as a child, rarely forgot herself, but shewas absorbed in the picture that she was making, and she stopped onlywhen she felt the silence and saw her father's wrathful gaze fixed uponher. His eyes were fairly blazing with anger, and his face was purple.
"So that is what you plan, is it?" he roared. "And here you standbefore me and tell your schemes to become queen and raise somemiserable rascal to the throne. Get out of my sight, ingrate that youare."
Quick-witted as Elizabeth was, she did not at once see wherein she wasin fault. She was so dazed by this sudden fury that she did not eventhink to throw herself at the feet of the king and beg to be forgiven,even though she knew not for what. The stepmother pleaded, "Pardon thechild, my king. She meant no wrong."
"No wrong," thundered the king. "Is it 'no wrong' to plan what she willdo as soon as the breath is out of her father's body? I tell you, girl,that you may find another father and another throne, for never shallyou sit upon mine. Get to your litter, and do you never come before myeyes again."
The little Edward had slipped up softly behind his angry father and hadlaid his tiny hand upon the king's purple cheek.
"Your Majesty is naughty," he declared gravely. "You have made mysweetest sister cry. I don't want my sister to cry." Never had thelittle boy received a harsh word from his father, and he was perhapsthe only one in the kingdom who had no fear of the king. "Come," saidhe, "and tell her not to cry." He caught the king by the hand, but evenfor his son King Henry's anger could not be suppressed.
"You little know her," he said. "It is you that she would rob. Shewould seize upon the place that is your own and drive you from it. Tellher to depart from the palace and never enter it," he commanded hischamberlain, and soon the little girl, not yet twelve years old, wassent away from the court in disgrace.
"Hold yourself with patience," whispered the queen to the child. "Trustme, and believe that it shall not be long before you will again be sentfor."