CHAPTER VI
FROM PRISON TO THRONE
While one sister was in prison, the sister on the throne had not foundlife altogether happy. The more she gazed upon Philip's picture, themore she longed to meet him, but he made no haste in coming. Two monthshad passed since Mary put on the betrothal ring, and never yet had heeven written to her. Philip had begged his father to choose a youngwife for him, but to the emperor the fact that Mary was ten years olderthan his son was a small matter if only he could secure for Philip apossibility of ruling England.
The marriage was to take place at Winchester, and as the time drewnear, Mary set out with her retinue. She was borne in the royal litter,and if all the vehicles were as gorgeous as the one provided for hermaids of honor, the procession must have been a dazzling sight. Thisone was a "wagon of timber work with wheels, axletrees, and benches."It was painted red, lined with red buckram, and covered with red cloth.This covering was adorned with heavy fringe of red silk.
Not at all agreeable was Philip's journey to Winchester. When he landedin England, he found a great company of nobles waiting to do himhonor, and he was escorted to a palace in which most beautiful roomshad been prepared for him. This was pleasant, but when he set off forWinchester, the wind blew and the rain came down in floods, and thefour or five thousand riders in the procession were thoroughly drenched.
Before they had ridden many minutes, a swift messenger drew rein infront of the prince, presented him a ring, and said:--
"Her Majesty the queen doth send your Grace this ring as a token thatshe would pray you to advance no farther."
Philip did not understand English perfectly. "There is danger," saidhe to his officers. "Little welcome have I from these English." It wasexplained to him that the queen's message only meant that she beggedhim not to expose himself to the storm, and he went on.
That evening the prince, all in black velvet and diamonds, made hisfirst call on the woman whom he was to marry two days later. Theytalked together in Spanish for half an hour, and the next day they hadanother meeting, and Philip--now in black velvet and silver--stood withthe queen under the canopy of state. She kissed him in greeting, andthey talked together before the hundreds of ladies and nobles in thegreat audience hall.
On the following day came the marriage, and then there was suchgleaming of pearls and blazing of rubies and flashing of diamonds asone might see in a splendid dream.
"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" asked thearchbishop, and four great nobles of the kingdom came forward andanswered, "We do give her in the name of the whole realm of England." Aplain gold ring was put on the queen's finger, for "I will marry witha plain hoop of gold like any other maiden," she had said. The peopleshouted, "God save our Queen! God send them joy!" and Mary of Englandhad become the wife of Philip of Spain.
While the wedding rejoicings were going on, Elizabeth was a prisonerat Woodstock. What was to be done with her was the question. There wassome reason to think that she had known of the plot to dethrone thequeen, and in any case, if she was free, any leader of an insurrectioncould have an opportunity to try to win her support. Mary did not wishto keep her in the Tower, and she thought of sending her to some ofher own Spanish relatives on the continent, but the royal marriagehelped to decide the question, for Prince Philip expressed himself verydecidedly to his royal wife that it would be best to set Elizabeth free.
"I would do it most gladly," said Mary, "could I be sure of herinnocence."
"Does not your English law claim that one is innocent till he is provedguilty?"
"True," replied Mary, "but there is proof and there is no proof. Mycouncilors declare that to set her free will be to say that she hasbeen unjustly imprisoned."
"Can she not be induced to confess that she has done wrong and throwherself on your mercy?"
"Never," answered the queen quickly. "I have known her since she was alittle child. When she storms and rages, she will yield, but when shequietly persists, she stands firm. I will see her. Nothing do I longfor more than to believe that she is guiltless."
Elizabeth was sent for, and late one evening she had an audience withthe queen. The younger sister knelt with her eyes full of tears andsobbed:--
"I beg your Majesty to believe in my truth and loyalty, no matter whoshall say to the contrary."
"Then you will not confess," returned Mary. "You persist in declaringthat you are innocent."
"If I am not innocent," said Elizabeth solemnly, "never again will Iask favor or kindness from the hands of your Grace."
"God knows," murmured the queen half turning away. A minute later shesaid, "Elizabeth, will you swear by all that you do hold sacred thatyou have no guilt in this matter?"
"I will," answered Elizabeth without a moment's hesitation.
"Then do I forgive you--be you innocent or be you guilty," she said toherself--"and in token of my pardon I restore to you the ring, pledgeof my sisterly affection. May the time never come when you will haveneed to send it to me again."
At Christmas there was a grand round of festivities at court. The Popehad sent a representative to receive from Mary the humble submissionof the kingdom, and the rejoicings were looked upon not only ascelebrating this reconciliation but as in some measure continuing thoseof the queen's marriage. Elizabeth was made prominent in everything.She sat at the queen's table and was treated as heir to the throne.Nevertheless, Mary did not fully trust her, and when the princess wasabout to return to her own home, the queen presented a nobleman andsaid that henceforth he would abide in Elizabeth's house, chargedwith the duty of guarding her safety and comfort. This nobleman was alearned and upright man of most perfect courtesy, and his presence canhardly have failed to give her pleasure, even though Elizabeth wellknew that he was sent to make sure that she had no connection with anyof the plots which were to be feared.
It is no wonder that a close watch needed to be kept for conspiracies,for several were formed against the queen. A story was spread abroadthat Edward VI. was not dead, but was living in France and was aboutto return to regain his throne. There were rumors that certain menin the land had the power of magic, and had stuck pins into waxenimages of the queen, thereby causing her intense suffering. The kingof France was ready to encourage any rumor, however absurd, and to aidany conspiracy that would better the chances of Mary of Scotland towear the crown of England. If Elizabeth was dead or shut out of thesuccession, these chances would be greatly increased, and probably thisis why Philip had now become the friend of Elizabeth, for if France andScotland and England were united, his own power and that of his fatherwould be much less. Several foreign husbands were proposed for theprincess, one of them the son of Philip by a former marriage, a boy often years. Elizabeth refused them all, and the queen declared that sheshould not be forced to marry against her will.
Mary's reign was shamed and disgraced by the burning of a large numberof persons, two hundred at least, because their religious beliefdiffered from that which she thought right. She is called "BloodyMary" because this took place in her reign, but just how far she was infault no one knows. Neither Henry VIII. nor Edward nor Mary ever showedthe least regard for the physical sufferings of others, but Mary hadnever manifested the least vindictiveness of disposition. Indeed, shehad often been more inclined than her councilors thought best to pardonand overlook deeds that most rulers of the time would have punished.Moreover, during some of the worst persecutions Mary was so ill that itwas said "she lay for weeks without speaking." One of the reasons whythe English had feared to have Philip marry their queen, was because hewas known to approve of torture, if by its means the sufferers couldbe induced to give up beliefs that he thought false. He now wrote tohis sister, "We have made a law, I and the most illustrious queen, forthe punishment of heretics and all enemies of Holy Church; or rather,we have revived the old ordinances of the realm, which will servethis purpose very well." It must not be forgotten, however, that thisburning at the stake was done with the consent of Parliament, andthat, as P
hilip said, it was in accordance with the old laws.
A hard life was Mary's. She had no child, and she was not sure ofthe faithfulness of her sister and heir. It was chiefly by herdetermination to marry Philip that she had lost the love of herpeople, and after all that she had sacrificed for his sake and all heraffection for him, he cared nothing whatever for her. An old balladsays that he liked
"The baker's daughter in her russet gown Better than Queen Mary without her crown."
The crown of England was all that he cared for, and about a yearafter their marriage, he left very willingly for the continent. Marycontrolled her sorrow at the public farewell, but as soon as that wasover, she went to a window from which she could see Philip's barge, andthere she sat with her head resting on her hands and wept bitterly tillhe was out of sight.
There was good reason why he should go, for his father wished to givehim the sovereignty of the Low Countries; and there were some difficultquestions that arose and prevented his immediate return. As monthspassed, Mary became more and more lonely. Her thoughts turned towardElizabeth. Another plot had been discovered. Some of Elizabeth's ownattendants were involved in it, and declarations were made that it wasnot unknown to the princess herself. Mary wrote her at once:--
"I pray that it may not seem to you amiss that it has been necessaryto remove from your household certain dangerous persons, not the leastof whose crimes it was that their confessions were but an attempt toinvolve your Grace in their evil designs. Rest assured that you areneither scorned nor hated, but rather loved and valued by me." With theletter went the gift of a valuable diamond.
After being away for nineteen months, Philip returned to England. Marywas so happy that she was ready to grant whatever he asked, though itwas so great a boon as the aid of England in a war with France. Philipleft in three or four months to carry on the war, and never again didhis wife look upon the man whom she loved so well.
The war went on, and Calais, which had long been held by England, wastaken by the French. The English were wrathful. Five hundred yearsearlier the kings of England had ruled wide-spreading lands in France.One had lost, another had won, but never before had England been leftwithout a foot of ground on the farther side of the Channel. Mary wascrushed. "When I die," she said, "look upon my heart, and there youwill see written the word 'Calais.'"
The summer of 1558 had come. Mary's thoughts turned more and moretoward her sister. She left her palace and went to visit Elizabeth.She arranged a visit from Elizabeth to herself which was conductedwith the greatest state. The princess made the journey in the queen'sown barge with its awning of green silk beautifully embroidered. Thequeen's ladies followed her in six boats whose gorgeousness was almostdazzling, for the ladies were dressed in scarlet damask, in blue satin,and in cloth of silver, with many feathers and jewels. In the royalgarden a pavilion had been built. It was in the shape of a strongcastle, only the material was not gray stone, but crimson velvet andcloth of gold. The court feasted, the minstrels played, and the long,bright day came to its close.
Mary had never been well, almost every autumn she had suffered severelyfrom sickness, and now a fever seized upon her. There was little hopeof her recovery, but Philip sent her a ring and a message instead ofcoming to her. Parliament and the will of Henry VIII. had decided thatElizabeth should follow Mary as queen, but Philip begged Mary to nameher sister as her heir in order to make the succession especially sure,and this was done. Mary grew weaker every day, the end must be near.The courtiers did not wait for it to come, crowds thronged the house ofElizabeth, every one eager to be among the first to pay his respectsto her who would soon become their sovereign, and to assure her that,however others might have felt, he had never been otherwise thanfaithful to her and her alone.
Among these visitors was Count de Feria, one of Philip's train, who wasin his master's confidence.
"My lord sends your Grace assurances of his most distinguishedfriendship," said the count. "He would have me say that his good willis as strong and his interest in your Grace's welfare as sincere asit was when by his influence, so gladly exerted, her Majesty wasgraciously pleased to release your Grace from imprisonment. He wouldalso have me say that he has ever to the utmost of his power urgedupon her Majesty that she should not fail to bequeath the crown to heronly sister and rightful heir, and he rejoices that his words have hadweight in her intentions."
"Most gracious thanks do I return to the king of Spain," answeredElizabeth, "and fully do I hold in my remembrance the favors shown tome in the time of my captivity. For all his efforts that I might be theheir of her Majesty, my sister, I return due gratitude, though verilyI have ever thought myself entitled to the crown by the will of myfather, the decree of Parliament, and the affection of the people."
Three or four days later Mary sent Elizabeth a casket containing jewelsbelonging to the crown, and with it another casket of jewels belongingto Philip which he had given orders to have presented to her. Elizabethwell knew that the end of her sister's life could not be long delayed,and soon the word came that Mary was dead.
"It may be a plot," thought the wary princess, "to induce me to claimthe crown while the queen lives, and so give my enemies a hold upon me.Sir Nicholas," she bade a faithful nobleman who she well knew had everbeen true to her cause, "go you to the palace to one of the ladies ofthe bedchamber, the one in whom I do put most trust, and beg her that,if the queen is really dead, she will send me the ring of black enamelthat her Majesty wore night and day, the one that King Philip gave heron their marriage."
Sir Nicholas set out on the short journey. The rumor had, indeed,preceded the death of the queen, but she died just as he reached thepalace. Before he returned, several of Queen Mary's councilors made ahurried journey to Elizabeth's house at Hatfield.
"Your Highness," said they, "it is with the deepest sadness that weperform our duty to announce the death of her Majesty, Queen Mary. Toyour Grace, as our rightful sovereign, do we now proffer our homage,and promise to obey your Highness as the true and lawful ruler intowhose hands the government of the realm has fallen."
Elizabeth sank upon her knees and repeated in Latin a sentence that wason the gold coins of the country, "It is the Lord's doing, and it ismarvelous in our eyes."
Queen Mary died in the twilight of a November morning, but her deathwas not known at once in the city. Parliament was in session, andbefore noon the lord chancellor called the two houses together andsaid:--
"God this morning hath called to his mercy our late sovereign lady,Queen Mary; which hap, as it is most heavy and grievous to us, so havewe no less cause, otherwise, to rejoice with praise to almighty Godfor leaving to us a true, lawful, and right inheritrix to the crown ofthis realm, which is the Lady Elizabeth, second daughter to our latesovereign of noble memory, Henry VIII."
For an instant there was silence, then the house rang with the cry,"God save Queen Elizabeth! Long may Queen Elizabeth reign over us!" Theproclamation of her accession was now made in front of the palace ofWestminster with many soundings of trumpets, and later, in the city ofLondon.
"Did anyone ever see such a time?" said a Londoner to his friend atnight. "No one would think that a queen had died since the day began;there has been nothing but bonfires and bell-ringing and feasting andshouting."
"When people are glad, their joy will reveal itself," answered hisfriend.
"There might well be reason for me to rejoice, but you are a Catholic,why should you welcome the Lady Elizabeth?"
"Is she Catholic or Protestant?" asked the other with a smile. "Whoknows? There's one thing sure, she'll have a merry court, trade will bethe gainer, and she'll marry no foreign prince."
"Perhaps having a new queen will also prevent another season of theplague and give us greater crops," laughed the first; and then he addedmore seriously, "Catholic or Protestant, I believe that there be few inthe land who will not rejoice to see the death-fires no longer blaze atSmithfield."
A week later the queen rode from Hatfield to London. H
undreds ofnoble lords and ladies were in her retinue, and the number increasedwith every mile. The road was lined with people who shouted, "QueenElizabeth! Queen Elizabeth! Long may she reign! God save the queen!"Children gazed at her eagerly, while their mothers wept tears of joy,and young men knelt and cried out their vows of loyalty and devotion.Many of the bishops of the realm came in procession to greet her andbegged to kiss her hand.
"Did you see that?" whispered a woman to her neighbor. "The queenwouldn't give her hand to the cruel bishop of London. She knows wellit's because of him that more than one good man's been burned at thestake. Oh, but she'll be a good queen, God bless her!"
The lord mayor and the aldermen came in their scarlet robes to escorther to the palace, and a few days later she went in state to the Towerof London. The streets were strewn with fine gravel, rich tapestriesadorned the walls, banners waved, trumpets sounded, boys from St.Paul's school made Latin speeches in her praise, and great companies ofchildren sang joyful songs of welcome.
Elizabeth looked very handsome as she rode into the city on horseback,wearing a habit of the richest purple velvet. She replied to everyone'sgreeting, and made little Latin speeches in answer to those of theschoolboys. At last she came to the Tower, and this time she entered,not at the Traitors' Gate, but through the royal entrance, and passedbetween long lines of soldiers, drawn up, not to keep watch over aprisoner, but to do honor to a queen.