CHAPTER XV
THE SPANISH ARMADA
An Englishman living in Lisbon hastened home to England and demandedaudience with the queen.
"Your Majesty," said he, "King Philip is making great preparationsfor some warlike enterprise. In the Lisbon harbor are twenty galleonsand forty other vessels. Men from Italy and Germany are coming in byhundreds. What can this mean but an attack upon England?"
Two months later came a message to the queen from her spies in Spain:--
"Soldiers are coming every day, and vast quantities of wine, grain,biscuit, bacon, oil, vinegar, barley meal, and salted meats are beinglaid in besides powder and cannon." A ship that had recently sailedfrom Lisbon was captured, and both captain and men were tortured on therack that more might be learned of the doings of Philip. All told thesame story, that he was planning an invasion of England.
In those days honor between sovereigns was a thing almost unknown.No one blamed the government of one country for trying to get thebetter of that of another. While Philip was making ready for war, heand Elizabeth were engaged in arranging for a treaty of peace andfriendship. Each knew that the other was treacherous, but each meant toget the better of the bargain.
On the arrival of this news from Spain, Elizabeth sent for Drake. "SirFrancis," said she, "how would it please you to make a voyage to Spain?"
Drake guessed in a moment what she wished of him and answered mostheartily:--
"There's nothing in all the world that would do me greater good."
"Ships and stores and soldiers are assembling off Cadiz and Lisbon. Itwould be a goodly sight, perhaps as fine as anything you saw in yourvoyage around the world."
"With how many ships may I go?" asked Drake.
"I can give you four, and the merchants will add to the fleet."
They did add twenty-six vessels of all kinds and sizes, for they wellknew that, though Drake would probably sail with the usual orders to"do no harm to my good friend, the king of Spain," the chances werethat every vessel would come back with a valuable cargo.
Drake made a rapid voyage, and on his return he at once brought hisreport to the queen.
"Well, my sailor lad," was her greeting, "have you another wild tale ofadventure to tell me? Have you made me queen of a new land or have youexcommunicated your chaplain?"
"I've not excommunicated my chaplain," returned Drake, "but it'll takemany a blessing from the Pope to make up to the Spaniards for thatmerry time off Cadiz. I've not discovered a new country, but yourMajesty is queen of what is stowed away in my ships, and perchance thatis of more worth than some of the raw lands that lie to the westward."
Elizabeth's eyes shone. "I know you've been in many a gallant fight,"said she, "and now tell me just what you have done."
"The Spanish fleet was off Cadiz ready to sail for Lisbon, so therewas nothing else to do but to attack it. We took eighty or more oftheir vessels, laden with stores to the gunwale, and we captured twogalleons."
"So that's the way you do no harm to my friend Philip," said the queen."Brave sailor laddie that you are, what did you do next?"
"My men were a bit weary of the sea," answered Drake, "and----"
"Yes, it must have been a dull and wearisome voyage," said Elizabethwith a smile. "And what did you do to amuse them?"
"There was little to do, but we took three castles and burned somefishing boats and nets. I hadn't time for much, for there was news ofa carrack coming from India, and it was only courtesy to sail out andgive her a greeting."
"Surely," said the queen. "My sailors are always ready to show thatkind of courtesy to an enemy in loneliness on the ocean."
"That's the whole story," said Drake, "save that the carrack was fullof the richest treasure that ever sailed the seas, and I brought ithome."
"That is more of your courtesy," said Elizabeth. "You would save thebusy king from the care of it, I suppose."
"Yes, your Majesty. He'll be busy enough for one while. We've singedhis whiskers for him."
The stories were true. Philip was at last determined to attack England.Mary was dead, and he claimed the crown by virtue of his connectionwith the royal house of Lancaster and by the will of the Queen ofScots. There was another side to his plan, Elizabeth had torn hercountry from its allegiance to the Pope, and this invasion was acrusade. If he conquered England, the country would be brought back tothe Roman church, and so would Holland; it was a holy war. A Spanishcardinal wrote, "Spain does not war against Englishmen, but againstElizabeth. It is not England but her wretched queen who has overthrownthe Holy Church and persecuted the pious Catholics. Let the Englishpeople rise and welcome their deliverer." This letter was circulatedthroughout England, but it produced no effect save to increase theloyalty of the English Catholics. They were the more indignant becausethe author of the letter was an Englishman who had abandoned hiscountry and become a subject of Spain. "It is only the blast of abeggarly traitor," declared Elizabeth.
The "singeing of his whiskers" kept Philip waiting for a year. To sailout into the Atlantic with the probability of meeting the autumn galesfar away from any friendly harbor would have been a reckless thing todo, and it was not easy to bring together at short notice stores enoughto take the place of those that had been destroyed. Philip waited. Heeven gave the queen a final chance to avoid the attack, for he sent hera Latin verse to the effect that she might even yet escape his conquestby agreeing to return the treasure taken by Drake, to render no moreaid to the Low Countries, and to bring her kingdom back to the Churchof Rome. Elizabeth replied, "My good king, I'll obey you when the Greekkalends come around," and as the Greeks had no kalends, there waslittle hope of peace.
While the shipbuilders of Spain were working night and day, and whilemen and provisions and powder and cannon were being brought together,England, too, was preparing for the encounter. There was no ally onthe continent to lend aid, the King of Scots might be faithful andhe might not, according to what he regarded as for his interests. Thefortifications of the kingdom were weak. At Portsmouth the guns couldnot be fired when the queen was crowned because the tower was so oldand ready to crumble, and for thirty years little had been done toput it in order. This very weakness, however, of the resources of thegovernment was England's strength, for every Englishman saw that if hiscountry was to be saved from becoming a province of Spain, he and everyother man must do his best to defend it. The council sent a message toLondon:--
"What number of ships and men is it your wish to contribute to thedefence of the land?"
"How many may properly be required of us?" asked the Londoners.
"Fifteen ships and five thousand men," was the answer.
Now in all London there were hardly more than seventeen thousand men,but the city straightway wrote to the council:--
"Ten thousand men and thirty ships we will gladly provide, and theships shall be amply furnished."
So it was throughout the kingdom. Every town sent a generous numberof men and generous gifts of money. Every little village on the coasthastened to refit its fishing vessels and offer boats and sailors tothe government. The wildest stories were rife of what the Spaniardswould do if they were once in control of the country. It was said thatthey had already lists of the stately castles of the realm and thehomes of rich London merchants, marked with the names of the Spanishnobles to whom they were to be given. Most of the English were to behanged, so the rumor went, but all children under seven years of agewere to be branded on the face and kept as slaves.
Philip had not expected to conquer England without other aid than thatof the soldiers whom he was to carry with him. He had a large band ofallies, on English soil, so he thought, waiting for his coming andready to welcome him. These were the Catholics of England. The Pope hadexcommunicated Elizabeth and had pronounced the curse of the churchupon all Catholics that should support her.
"These are not common days," said one of her advisers, "and in suchtimes there must often be resort to means that would be most cruel andunjust in oth
er years."
"What do you mean?" demanded the queen.
"Your Majesty has of course not failed to consider the support that theSpanish king may find if he succeeds in landing upon our shores."
"Who will support him, you or I?"
"It would be but natural for those of his own church to welcome him."
"They'll welcome him with powder and cannon."
"Your Majesty, when your illustrious father, King Henry VIII., wasabout to depart for the French wars, did he not bring to the block hisown cousin and others who were most devoted to the old faith, lest theyshould raise an insurrection while he was on the continent?"
"And you would cut off the heads of my faithful subjects? Theyshall attend my church, and if they will not, they shall be finedor imprisoned. My agents are zealous, and it may be that they havesometimes gone beyond my orders, but I tell you that I rule men andwomen, not their thoughts, and if a man obeys me, his head stayson his shoulders, mark that. I'll tell you one thing more, the lordhigh-admiral of my fleet is to be Howard of Effingham. What think youof that, my man?"
"But, your Majesty, he is a strong supporter of the old faith."
"So will he be of the new queen," replied Elizabeth calmly.
Howard became admiral, and Drake vice-admiral, while Frobisher andHawkins served as captains and Raleigh sailed out in his own vesselas a volunteer. Howard knew almost nothing of naval command, butaround him were officers of experience, and he was not so exalted byhis new dignity that he scorned to learn of them. The sailors watchedhim closely, and when they saw him put his own hands to the towingrope, they shouted "Hurrah for the admiral!" Nobles and commoners weremingled, and not one among them seemed to have any thought of rank ordignity. It was for England that they were working, and the honor layin helping to save the country.
The English vessels came together. There were all sorts of craft,ranging from a ship not much smaller than the galleons of theSpaniards to what were hardly more than mere fishing boats. Theywere miserably supplied with food and powder, for it was very hardfor Elizabeth to make up her mind to meet the vast expenses of war.Almost every letter of the admiral's contained a request for absolutenecessities that were given out most grudgingly. Beef was too dear,thought the queen, and she changed the sailors' rations to a scantysupply of fish, oil, and peas. The wages were in arrears, there wasnot powder enough, food was carried to the ships in small quantities,though Howard declared indignantly, "King Harry never made a lesssupply than six weeks." At the least rumor that the Spaniards were notcoming, Elizabeth would give orders to reduce the English fleet. TheInvincible Armada had left Spain, and Howard wrote, "Beseech Burleighto hasten provisions. If the wind holds out for six days, Spain will beknocking at our doors."
One evening in July a game of bowls was going on at the Pelican Inn inPlymouth.
"Your turn, Frobisher," said Hawkins, "and then Sir Walter's."
"That's well done, Sir Walter. Yours next, Sir Francis," said Howard.Drake stooped for the ball, and was about to send it, when an oldsailor rushed into the room and cried:--
"Admiral, Admiral, they're coming! I saw them off the Lizard, and thereare hundreds of them."
"What do you say, Admiral," asked Drake with his hand still on theball, "Won't there be time to finish the game and then go out and givethe dons a thrashing?"
The Spanish Armada attacked by the English Fleet.
_From Pine's engraving of the tapestry, formerly in the House of Lords,but destroyed by fire in the eighteenth century._]
The Spanish ships slowly made their way into the Channel. They wereso large and so high at stem and stern that they looked like greatfloating castles, but they were so clumsy and difficult to manage thatthe nimble little English boats had a great advantage. The Spanishfleet formed in a wide crescent, the two points seven miles apart, andthe English boats went out to meet them. The galleons were high and theEnglish vessels so low that it was difficult to train the Spanish gunsupon them, moreover, the Spaniards were not good marksmen. They wouldhave had a better chance, however, if the English had only been willingto stand still and be fired at, but the Spanish were much surprisedand disgusted when the saucy little English craft slipped up undertheir very bows, fired a shot or two and were away firing at the nextship before the Spanish guns could be trained upon them. Some of thelittle boats sailed the whole length of the crescent, firing at everyvessel and coming off without a scar.
This kind of encounter was kept up for more than a week, for theEnglish hesitated to attempt a regular engagement. The Spanish sufferedseverely. Masts were shattered, the rigging was cut up, great, raggedholes were torn in the hulls, and large numbers of sailors were slain,but even worse was to follow.
The Spaniards were anchored off Calais. At two o'clock one morning astrange, shapeless object was seen floating toward them. Then cameanother and another until there were eight. Fire blazed up from thefloating monsters. There were explosions and suffocating gases. Theflames rose higher, wind and waves were bringing these malignantcreatures, that seemed half alive, into the midst of the Spanish fleet.
This attack by fire-boats was a new way of fighting. The Spaniardswere perplexed and horrified. Their only thought was to escapeanywhere, no matter where, if only they could get free from theseterrors. In their haste anchor chains fouled, some ships collided,others burned or ran aground.
The land forces were encamped at Tilbury. "I am commander in chief ofmy troops," declared Elizabeth, "and I shall go to pay them a visit."
"Is it safe to commit yourself to armed multitudes? Among so many theremay well be treachery," suggested her councilors.
"Let tyrants fear," returned Elizabeth. "I am true to my people, andthey are my faithful and loving subjects. I should rather die than livein fear and distrust of them. I shall go to visit my loyal soldiers."
It must have been a brilliant sight, the long lines of soldiers inbattle array, and the queen riding in front of the lines on her greatcharger. Before her went Leicester and another noble bearing the swordof state. Behind her followed a page carrying her helmet with its whiteplumes. She was magnificently dressed, but over her dress was a corsletof polished steel. Back and forth before the lines she rode, whilethe soldiers shouted, "Queen Elizabeth! Queen Elizabeth! God save thequeen! The Lord keep her!" She raised her hand, and there was silenceto hear her words.
"I have the body of a weak, feeble woman," she said, "but I have theheart of a king, of a king of England, and I think it foul scorn thatany prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm.Rather than that any dishonor should come by me, I will take up arms, Iwill be your general myself, and the rewarder of every deed of bravery.You deserve already rewards and crowns, and they shall be paid. It willnot be long before we have a famous victory over these enemies of myGod, of my kingdom, and of my people."
While Elizabeth was still at Tilbury, two messengers came with athrilling report.
"A fierce battle has been fought off Gravelines. Drake was in command."
"My noble sailor laddie," said the queen proudly. "Tell me of it. Iwould know the deeds of every one of my brave captains."
"It is your Majesty who struck the fatal blow," said the messenger,"for the fire-ships were your own thought, and it was they that thrustthe Spaniards from our coast and drove them out to sea. Sir Francis andhis fleet led the attack. Six hours it lasted, till every shot, largeand small, had been fired. Then came the Admiral, and he, too, firedevery shot. There was no more powder, but he put on a bold front andgave them chase. They could not go south, and they went north."
"There's no fear in Howard," said Elizabeth. "I know my man. Where arethe Spaniards now?"
"Many of them have gone to whatever place the mercy of the Lord mayconsign them," was the reply.
"And where are those that still depend upon the mercies of wind andwave?" asked the queen.
"Only wind and wave can tell?" answered the messenger. "The shipssailed far to the northward. The Admiral pursued until his
provisionsfailed, but there was small need of searching for the enemy. Theboisterous northern seas will do the work of many a cannon."
The words of the messenger proved to be true. The Spanish ships ranaground on the unknown coasts, they were shattered by storms, thesailors were stricken by pestilence, they were driven ashore only tobe thrust back into the waves, for King James had no idea of doingaught against the sovereign whose crown he hoped would before manyyears rest upon his own head, and the lord lieutenant of Ireland waslittle inclined to show mercy to the enemies of his country. Of thegreat fleet that left Spain, so strong that it ventured to call itselfinvincible, more than half the ships were left on the rocks or at thebottom of the sea.
CHAPTER XVI
CLOSING YEARS
After the defeat of the Armada not only was there a general rejoicing,but the whole land felt a new sense of freedom. Until 1588 Elizabethhad been obliged to steer the ship of state with the utmost wariness.She must keep on good terms with Scotland, lest that country shouldturn to France for friendship. She must make sure that France would notoppose her, lest Philip should join the ruler of the land across theChannel. She must help the Low Countries sufficiently to strengthentheir opposition to the Spanish king and so keep him from England, butshe must not give them so much aid that they would become a burden uponher in their dependence, and she must not accept the Protectorate,that would perhaps involve her realm in a long and bloody war withSpain. For thirty years this keen, shrewd scheming went on. Englandwas gaining every day in power and wealth, and when at last "OldLeadenfoot" began to bestir himself, the country was ready to meet him.
The Armada had come and gone, and England was free. Philip might talkas boastfully as he would about sending another fleet to make anotherattack, but no one forgot that he had sent a fleet and it had failed.England was "mistress of the seas" in the sense that she was no longerin fear of any other nation. If a Spanish vessel encountered an Englishvessel, they would be likely to fight, but the Englishmen expected towin, and that expectation of victory was in itself a mark of greatness.If England chose to plant colonies in the New World, there was littlefear that Spain would trouble them to any great extent.
This new sense of freedom showed itself not only in what was done butin what was written, and often the same man that had written an undyingpoem could fight a battle or lead a voyage of discovery or plan whatwas best for the nation when there were difficult questions of state todecide. Shakespeare himself, the greatest writer of all, was not onlya poet but a keen, thrifty man of business.
The people of England had become accustomed to seeing great deeds donebefore their eyes, and that is one reason why few stories were writtenbut many plays, for it seemed much more "real" to see a tale acted onthe stage than to hear an account of it.
It was a great pity that this freedom could not have extended toreligious matters, but it was some years after Queen Elizabeth's deathbefore many people realized that it was possible for two persons tohave entirely different ideas of religion and yet be honest and sincereand live peacefully together. Toward the close of Elizabeth's reignthere were persecutions of those refusing to attend the Church ofEngland that were far more severe than the mild system of fines withwhich she began her rule. The fines were increased, and Puritans aswell as Catholics were sometimes ruined by the large sums of moneythat they were obliged to pay if they persisted in refusing to attendthe services of the Church of England. They were often imprisoned,and in the Elizabethan days imprisonment was no light penalty. Notonly were the jails damp, unhealthy, filthy places, but prisoners wereobliged to pay many exorbitant charges, so that if a man escaped withhis life and health, he had to leave large sums of money behind him.One jail bill of that day has a weekly item of five dollars and a halffor food, and as money would purchase about five times as much thenas now, this charge was equivalent to more than twenty-seven dollarsto-day. This was not all by any means, for a prisoner had to pay therent of his wretched dungeon. If he was doomed to wear fetters, he mustpay extra for them, and, most absurd charge of all, he was forced topay an entrance fee on being sent to the horrible place. Besides beingimprisoned, dissenters, as those were called who would not attend theChurch of England, were sometimes whipped or tortured or even hanged.The only excuse for such treatment is that neither the queen nor hercouncil was in fault for not being a century in advance of their times.Indeed, it was more than two centuries after the death of the queenbefore England would allow a Catholic to become a member of Parliament.
As Elizabeth drew older, she dressed with increasing magnificence. Herhands were loaded with rings, and her robes were made of the richestmaterial that could be obtained. A German traveler who saw her on herway to her private chapel describes her as wearing a dress of heavywhite silk, made with a very long train and bordered with pearls aslarge as beans. She wore a deep collar made of gold and jewels. Thissame traveler says that every corner of her palace shone with gold andsilver and crystal and precious stones, and yet her floors were strewnwith rushes that were probably as dirty as those in the homes of hersubjects.
The end of the century drew near, and it brought sorrow to the queen inthe death of her old adviser, Lord Burleigh. Leicester had died soonafter the defeat of the Armada, and Elizabeth never parted with a paperupon which she had written sadly, "His last letter." In Burleigh'sold age he became quite infirm, and while Elizabeth's other ministersaddressed her kneeling, Burleigh was always made to seat himselfcomfortably before she would discuss any question with him. "I am tooold and too feeble to serve you well," he would say, but she refusedto let him resign his office. In the days of his strength, she wouldstorm at him in a tornado of rage when his judgment differed fromhers, but as he became weak and ill, she was the tenderest of friends."The door is low, your Majesty," said the servant as she entered thesickroom of the councilor. "Then I will stoop," said she, "for yourmaster's sake, though never for the king of Spain." She often went tosit by his bedside, and the haughty sovereign whose wrath burst forthso furiously at a word of opposition became the most gentle of nurses.As she sat beside him, she would allow no hand but her own to give himnourishment. "She never speaks of him without tears," said one who waswith her after his death.
The loss of another of her friends brought her even greater griefthan that of Burleigh, for this time the life of her favorite layin her own power, but as the faithful sovereign she felt herselfobliged to sacrifice it. From the time that Leicester had presentedto her his brilliant, fascinating stepson, the Earl of Essex, theyoung man had been a prime favorite with the queen. At their firstmeeting he was seventeen and the queen fifty-six, and she treatedhim like a petted child who can do no wrong. She forbade him to takeany part in the fighting in Portugal, but he slipped away from courtwithout her knowledge, and was the first to leave the boats on thePortuguese coast. He returned with some fear of being punished for hisdisobedience, but the queen forgot the wrongdoing, and was only anxiousto make up for his disappointment because a position that he had wishedfor had been given to some one else.
When Essex married, Elizabeth was as indignant as usual at each newproof that with all the adoration that her courtiers continuallydeclared of herself, she was not the whole world to them. When Essexwas fighting in Holland, a request was sent to the queen for moretroops. The ambassador said:--
"Your Majesty, my master has consulted the Earl of Essex, and he favorsthe request."
Elizabeth had not yet granted Essex her forgiveness, and she blazedforth:--
"The Earl of Essex, indeed! He would have it thought that he rules myrealm."
In spite of her anger with him, she was so anxious when she knew howcarelessly he risked his life that she wrote ordering him to returnto England at once, and when, much against his will, he obeyed hercommand, she spent a week in feasting and merriment. Over and over theyquarreled. Essex would perhaps favor one candidate for a position, andthe queen another. There would be hot words between them, and theywould part, both in a fury. Then Essex would pretend t
o be ill, andthe repentant queen would go to see the spoiled child, and pardon hispetulance unasked. "He is not to blame, he takes it from his mother,"she would say, and as she especially disliked his mother, she admittedthis as sufficient excuse for overlooking his impertinence. The greatstorm came when the queen named a lord lieutenant for Ireland, andEssex opposed. Elizabeth made one of her severe speeches, and the youngman retorted by shrugging his shoulders and turning his back on her.The queen replied by soundly boxing his ears. Essex grasped his sword."I wouldn't have pardoned that blow even from King Henry himself. Whatelse could one expect from an old king in petticoats!" he cried anddashed away from court.
His friends urged him to return and try to regain the affection ofthe queen by a humble apology, but for many weeks he refused. "I amthe queen's servant," said he, "but I am not her slave." However, hefinally sued for pardon and was again forgiven.
Last moments of Elizabeth.--_From painting byDelaroche._]
So long as the offences of Essex were against Elizabeth as a woman,she was ready to forgive, but at last he committed a crime against hergovernment, and the woman was forgotten in the sovereign. All throughthe reign there was trouble with Ireland. The Irish hated the Englishand would follow anyone who would lead them against English rule. Therewere continual rebellions. Essex's enemies brought it about that thefavorite should be sent to command what he called "the cursedest of allislands." Before long, rumors of his mismanagement began to reach theears of the queen. "He is ever forcing his soldiers to make wearisomeand useless marches and countermarches," said the reports. "He wastesmoney and supplies, and he exhausts his troops by irregularskirmishes that amount to nothing. He has made a foolish peace withthe leader of the Irish rebels instead of suppressing them by force ofarms. He is trying to make himself king of the Irish, and he will thenraise an Irish army to come over and dethrone the queen."
Elizabeth sent letters full of reproof to Essex, but the young fellowonly said to himself, "They are not her letters. She has written thewords, but it is Burleigh who has guided her pen." He abandoned hiscommand and went straight to England, sure that the queen would pardonany misdeed on the part of her favorite.
Early one morning the young man arrived in London. He must see thequeen before his enemies could have word of her and induce her toforbid him to appear at court, and he galloped wildly on to thepalace. He looked into the audience chamber, she was not there; intothe privy chamber, she was not there. Then he burst into her dressingroom where the queen sat with her women brushing her hair. He wasmuddy with his mad gallop to the palace, his clothes were disorderedand travelstained, but when he threw himself at her feet and pleaded,"Don't judge me by the tales of my enemies," the queen was so kind tohim that he thought himself forgiven. Later, however, she saw that hehad committed many acts of disobedience which in a military commanderwere unpardonable. He was tried by the privy council, and for a fewweeks was confined to his own house. Elizabeth deprived him of severalvaluable monopolies and even after his release forbade him to appearat court. In any other commander the penalty of such crimes would havebeen far more severe, but instead of thinking upon the mercy thathad been shown him, Essex meditated upon what he thought his wrongs.He became more and more embittered, and at last he tried to arouse arebellion against the queen. There was a fierce struggle in Elizabeth'smind between her love for the young man and her duty to punish thetreason. At last she signed the death warrant, recalled it, then signedanother, and Essex was executed in the Tower of London.
The seventeenth century began, and the health of the queen was clearlyfailing. A woman of less strength of character would have posed as aninvalid, but Elizabeth seemed to feel that sickness was unworthy of aqueen, and she concealed her increasing weakness as far as possible.She often had to be lifted upon her horse, but she would not giveup riding. She even went to visit one of her councilors. Cornetssaluted her, drums and trumpets sounded as she entered the courtyard.She watched the dancing of the ladies of the house and the feats ofhorsemanship and swordplay of the young men, but she was exhausted, andin spite of her good courage, she could not go up the stairs withouta staff. Yet in the early part of 1602 she went a-Maying in the oldfashion of celebrating the coming of spring.
With all her glory and her greatness, the last days of this woman on athrone were more lonely than those of a woman in a cottage. Essex hadbeen a great favorite among the people, and they had never forgivenhis death. When the queen showed herself among them, she was no longerreceived with all the old tokens of loyalty and affection, and no onecould have been more keen than she to note the least change in themanner of her subjects.
She knew that James would be her heir, but she had not forgotten thelong lines of greedy courtiers who had sought her when her sister Marywas near her end, and she refused to name him definitely as the onewhom she wished to succeed her. This refusal made little difference,however, in the increasing devotion of those around her to the Scotchking, who would so soon be the ruler of England. One after anotherwearied of attendance; some made excuses to leave her, others leftwithout excuse. The son of Burleigh, who had taken his father's place,sent almost daily epistles to Scotland. Harington, who used to writeher merry, jesting letters, signed "Your Majesty's saucy godson," hadsent valuable gifts to the King of Scots, and a petition that he mightnot be forgotten when James should come into his kingdom. Her owncouncilors were sending messengers to James hoping to win his favor.Two of her relatives stood by her bedside, but their watchfulness arosenot from affection but that they might be the first to tell James thatthe crown was his at last.
The queen became more and more feeble. She was sad and melancholy.Often she sat for hours alone in the dark weeping. She felt herloneliness most keenly. "Whom can I trust? Whom can I trust?" herattendants heard her murmur. A kinsman who went to see her said thatshe drew heavy sighs continually, "And I never knew her to sigh"he declared, "save at the death of the Queen of Scots." She lay oncushions piled up on the floor.
"Madam," urged the son of Burleigh, "will you not be moved to your bed?"
"If I go to my bed, I shall never leave it," she answered.
"But you must in order to content your loving subjects," he urged.
Then the queen showed once more her proud Tudor blood. "'Must' is noword to use to princes," said she, "and, little man, if your father hadlived, even he would not have dared to say so much."
She passed away quietly in a gentle sleep. According to a strangecustom of the times an image of her was made in wax, decked in theroyal robes, and laid upon her coffin. She was buried in WestminsterAbbey, and as the sad procession went through the streets, the earlylove of her subjects returned in full measure. An old chronicler says:--
"And when they beheld her statue, or effigy, lying on the coffin, setforth in royal robes, having a crown upon the head thereof, and a balland sceptre in either hand, there was such a general sighing, groaning,and weeping, as the like hath not been seen or known in the memory ofman; neither doth any history mention any people, time, or state, tomake like lamentation for the death of their sovereign."
* * * * * *
Transcribers' note:
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when apredominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were notchanged.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unpairedquotation marks retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
Page 51: Missing closing quotation mark added after "has been mine forthree full years."
Page 155: "and so would made" may be a misprint for "make".
Page 192: Missing opening quotation mark added before "this youth had".
Page 205: Closing quotation mark added after "tasters,".
Page 264: Missing opening quotation mark added before "how would itplease".
In the Days of Queen Elizabeth Page 16