[Footnote 616: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

[Footnote 617: Cornwallis to the Queen: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

The arrival of the army under Pembroke removed the immediate ground for alarm; and after the defeat of the French, the {p.296} danger was supposed to be over altogether. The queen was frightened at the expenses which she was incurring, and again allowed the establishment to sink below the legitimate level. Lord Wentworth was left at Calais with not more than five hundred men. Grey had something more than a thousand at Guisnes, but a part only were English; the rest were Burgundians and Spaniards. More unfortunately also, a proclamation had forbidden the export of corn in England, from which Calais had not been excepted. Guisnes and Hammes depended for their supplies on Calais, and by the middle of the winter there was an actual scarcity of food.[618]

[Footnote 618: When all your majesty's pieces on this side make account to be furnished of victuals and other necessaries from hence, it is so that of victuals your highness hath presently none here, and the town hath none; by reason that the restraint in the realm hath been so strait, and the victuallers as were wont to bring daily hither good quantities of butter, cheese, bacon, wheat, and other things, might not of late be suffered to have any recourse hither, whereby is grown a very great scarcity.—Wentworth to the Queen: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

Up to the beginning of December, notwithstanding, there were no external symptoms to create uneasiness; military movements lay under the usual stagnation of winter, and except a few detachments on the frontiers of the Pale, who gave trouble by marauding excursions, the French appeared to be resting in profound repose. On the 1st of December, the governor of Guisnes reported an expedition for the destruction of one of their outlying parties, which had been accomplished with ominous cruelty.

"I advertised your grace," Lord Grey wrote to the queen, "how I purposed to make a journey to a church called Bushing, strongly fortified by the enemy, much annoying this your majesty's frontier. It may please your majesty, upon Monday last, at nine of the clock at night, having with me Mr. Aucher marshal of Calais, Mr. Alexander captain of Newnham Bridge, Sir Henry Palmer, my son,[619] and my cousin Louis Dives, with such horsemen and footmen as could be conveniently spared abroad in service, leaving your majesty's pieces in surety, I took my journey towards the said Bushing, and carried with me two cannon and a sacre, for that both the weather and the ways served well to the purpose, and next morning came hither before day. And having before our coming enclosed the said Bushing with two hundred footmen harquebuziers, I sent an officer to summon the same in the king's highness' and your majesty's name; whereunto the captain there, a man of good {p.297} estimation, who the day before was sent there with twelve men by M. Senarpont, captain of Boulogne, answered that he was not minded to render, but would keep it with such men as he had, which were forty in number or thereabouts, even to the death; and further said, if their fortune was so to lose their lives, he knew that the king his master had more men alive to serve, with many other words of French bravery. Upon this answer, I caused the gunners to bring up their artillery to plank, and then shot off immediately ten or twelve times. But yet for all this they would not yield. At length, when the cannon had made an indifferent breach, the Frenchmen made signs to parley, and would gladly have rendered; but I again, weighing it not meet to abuse your majesty's service therein, and having Sir H. Palmer there hurt, and some others of my men, refused to receive them, and, according to the law of arms, put as many of them to the sword as could be gotten at the entry of the breach, and all the rest were blown up with the steeple at the rasing thereof, and so all slain."[620]

[Footnote 619: Sir Arthur Grey.]

[Footnote 620: Grey to the Queen: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

The law of arms forbade the defence of a fort not rationally defensible; but it was over hardly construed against a gallant gentleman. Grey was a fierce, stern man. It was Grey who hung the priests in Oxfordshire from their church towers. It was Grey who led the fiery charge upon the Scots at Musselburgh, and with a pike wound, which laid open cheek, tongue, and palate, he "pursued out the chase," till, choked by heat, dust, and his own blood, he was near falling under his horse's feet.[621]

[Footnote 621: He was held up by the Earl of Warwick, who sprang from his own horse, and "did lift a firkin of ale" to Grey's mouth. Life of Lord Grey of Wilton, by his son.]

Three weeks passed, and still the French had made no sign. On the 22nd an indistinct rumour came to Guisnes that danger was near. The frost had set in; the low damp ground was hard, the dykes were frozen; and in sending notice of the report to England, Grey said that Calais was unprovided with food; Guisnes contained a few droves of cattle brought in by forays over the frontier,[622] but no corn. On the 27th, the intelligence became more distinct and more alarming. The Duke of Guise was at Compiegne. A force of uncertain magnitude, but known to be large, had suddenly appeared at Abbeville. Something evidently was intended, and something on a scale which the English commanders felt ill prepared to encounter. In a hurried council of war held at Calais, it was resolved to make no attempt {p.298} to meet the enemy in the field until the arrival of reinforcements, which were written for in pressing haste.[623]

[Footnote 622: Grey to the Queen: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

[Footnote 623: Wentworth and Grey to the Queen: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

But the foes with whom they had to deal knew their condition, and were as well aware as themselves that success depended on rapidity. Had the queen paid attention to Grey's despatch of the 22nd there was time to have trebled the garrison and thrown in supplies; but it was vague, and no notice was taken of it. The joint letter of Grey and Wentworth written on the 27th, was in London in two days, and there were ships at Portsmouth and in the Thames, which ought to have been ready for sea at a moment's warning. Orders were sent to prepare; the Earl of Rutland was commissioned to raise troops; and the queen, though without sending men, sent a courier with encouragements and promises. But when every moment was precious, a fatal slowness, and more fatal irresolution hung about the movements of the government. On the 29th Wentworth wrote again, that the French were certainly arming and might be looked for immediately. On the 31st, the queen, deceived probably by some emissary of Guise, replied, that "she had intelligence that no enterprise was intended against Calais or the Pale," and that she had therefore countermanded the reinforcements.[624]

[Footnote 624: The Queen to Wentworth: Ibid.]

The letter containing the death sentence, for it was nothing less, of English rule in Calais was crossed on the way by another from Grey, in which he informed the queen that there were thirty or forty vessels in the harbour at Hambletue, two fitted as floating batteries, the rest loaded with hurdles, ladders, and other materials for a siege. Four-and-twenty thousand men were in the camp above Boulogne; and their mark he knew to be Calais. For himself, he would defend his charge to the death; but help must be sent instantly, or it would be too late to be of use.

The afternoon of the same day, December 31, he added, in a postscript, that flying companies of the French were at that moment before Guisnes; part of the garrison had been out to skirmish, but had been driven in by numbers; the whole country was alive with troops.

The next morning (January 1, 1558) Wentworth reported to the same purpose, that, on the land side, Calais was then invested. The sea was still open, and the forts at the mouth of the harbour on the Rysbank were yet in his hands. Heavy siege cannon, however, were said to be on their way from Boulogne, and it was uncertain how long he could hold them.

{p.299} The defences of Calais towards the land, though in bad repair, had been laid out with the best engineering skill of the time. The country was intersected with deep muddy ditches; the roads were causeways, and at the bridges were bulwarks and cannon. Guisnes, which was three miles from Calais, was connected with it by a line of small forts and "turnpikes." Hammes lay between the two, equidistant from both. Towards the sea the long line of low sandhills, rising in front of the harbour to the Rysbank, formed a natural pier; and on the Rysbank was the castle, which commanded the entrance and the town. The possession of the Rysbank was the possession of Calais.

The approaches to the sandhills were commanded by a bulwark towards the south-west called the Sandgate, and further inland by a large work called Newnham Bridge. At this last place were sluices, through which, at high water, the sea could be let in over the marshes. If done effectually, the town could by this means be effectually protected; but unfortunately, owing to the bad condition of the banks, the sea water leaked in from the high levels to the wells and reservoirs in Calais.

The night of the 1st of January the French remained quiet; with the morning they advanced in force upon Newnham Bridge. An advanced party of English archers and musketeers who were outside the gate were driven in, and the enemy pushed in pursuit so close under the walls that the heavy guns could not be depressed to touch them. The English, however, bored holes through the gates with augers, fired their muskets through them, and so forced their assailants back. Towards Hammes and Guisnes the sea was let in, and the French, finding themselves up to their waists in water, and the tide still rising, retreated on that side also. Wentworth wrote in the afternoon in high spirits at the result of the first attack. The brewers were set to work to fill their vats with fresh water, that full advantage might be taken of the next tide. Working parties were sent to cut the sluices, and the English commander felt confident that if help was on the way, or could now be looked for, he could keep his charge secure. But the enemy, he said, were now thirty thousand strong; Guise had taken the Sandgate, and upwards of a hundred boats were passing backwards and forwards to Boulogne and Hambletue, bringing stores and ammunition.[625] {p.300} If the queen had a body of men in readiness, they would come without delay. If she was unprepared, "the passages should be thrown open," and "liberty be proclaimed for all men to come that would bring sufficient victuals for themselves;" thus, he "was of opinion that there would be enough with more speed than would be made by order."

[Footnote 625: "Surely," Wentworth wrote to the queen, "if your majesty's ships had been on the shore, they might either have letted this voyage, or, at the least, very much hindered it, and not unlike to have distressed them, being only small boats. Their ordnance that comes shall be conveyed in the same sort. It may therefore please your majesty to consider it. I am, as a man may be, most sure that they will first attempt upon Rysbank, and that way chiefly assail the town. Marry, I think that they lie hovering in the country for the coming of their great artillery and also to be masters of the sea, and therefore I trust your highness will haste over all things necessary with all expedition."—Wentworth to the Queen: Calais MSS. bundle 10.]

So far Wentworth had written. While the pen was in his hand, a message reached him, that the French, without waiting for their guns, were streaming up over the Rysbank, and laying ladders against the walls of the fort. He had but time to close his letter, and send his swiftest boat out of the harbour with it, when the castle was won, and ingress and egress at an end. The same evening, the heavy guns came from Boulogne, and for two days and nights the town was fired upon incessantly from the sandbank, and from "St. Peter's Heath."

The fate of Calais was now a question of hours; Wentworth had but 500 men to repel an army, and he was without provisions. Calais was probably gone, but Guisnes might be saved; Guisnes could be relieved with a great effort out of the Netherlands. On the night of the 4th, Grey found means to send a letter through the French lines to England. "The enemy," he said, "were now in possession of Calais harbour, and all the country between Calais and Guisnes." He was now "clean cut off from all relief and aid which he looked to have;" and there "was no other way for the succour of Calais" and the other fortresses, but "a power of men out of England or from the king's majesty, or from both," either to force the French into a battle or to raise the siege. Come what would, he would himself do the duty of a faithful subject, and keep the castle while men could hold it.[626]

[Footnote 626: Grey to the Queen: Calais MSS. The letter was dated January 4, seven o'clock at night. The messenger was to carry it to Gravelines under cover of darkness. It is endorsed, "Haste, haste, haste! post haste for thy life, for thy life."]

The court, which had been incredulous of danger till it had appeared, was now paralysed by the greatness of it. Definite orders to collect troops were not issued till the 2nd of January. The Earl of Rutland galloped the same day to Dover, where the musters were to meet, flung himself into the first boat that he {p.301} found, without waiting for them, and was half-way across the Channel when he was met by the news of the loss of the Rysbank.[627] Rutland therefore returned to Dover, happy so far to have escaped sharing the fate of Wentworth, which his single presence could not have averted. The next day, the 3rd, parties of men came in slowly from Kent and Sussex; but so vague had been the language of the proclamation, that they came without arms; and although the country was at war with France, there were no arms with which to provide them, either in Deal, Dover, or Sandwich. Again, so indistinct had been Rutland's orders, that although a few hundred men did come in at last tolerably well equipped, and the Prince of Savoy had collected some companies of Spaniards at Gravelines, and had sent word to Dover for the English to join him, Rutland was now obliged to refer to London for permission to go over. On the 7th, permission came; it was found by that time, or supposed to be found, that the queen's ships were none of them seaworthy, and an order of the council came out to press all competent merchant ships and all able seamen everywhere, for the queen's service.[628] Rutland contrived at last, by vigorous efforts, to collect a few hoys and boats, but the French had by this time ships of war in co-operation with them, and he could but approach the French coast near enough to see that he could venture no nearer, and again return.[629]

[Footnote 627: Rutland to the Queen: Calais MSS.]

[Footnote 628: MS. Council Records.]

[Footnote 629: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xi.]

He would have been too late to save Calais at that time, however, even if he had succeeded in crossing.

The day preceding, the 6th of January, after a furious cannonade, Guise had stormed the castle. The English had attempted to blow it up when they could not save it, but their powder train was wetted, and they failed. The Spaniards, for once honourably careful of English interests, came along the shore from Gravelines alone, since no one joined them from England, and attempted in the face of overwhelming odds to force their way into the town; but they were driven back, and Wentworth, feeling that further resistance would lead to useless slaughter, demanded a parley, and after a short discussion accepted the terms of surrender offered by Guise. The garrison and the inhabitants of Calais, amounting in all, men, women, and children, to 5000 souls, were permitted to retire to England with their lives, and nothing more. Wentworth and fifty others {p.302} were to remain prisoners; the town, with all that it contained, was to be given up to the conquerors.

On these conditions the English laid down their arms and the French troops entered. The spoil was enormous, and the plunder of St. Quentin was not unjustly revenged; jewels, plate, and money were deposited on the altars of the churches, and the inhabitants, carrying with them the clothes which they wore, were sent as homeless beggars in the ensuing week across the Channel.

Then only, when it was too late, the queen roused herself. As soon as Calais had definitely fallen, all the English counties were called on by proclamation to contribute their musters. Then all was haste, eagerness, impetuosity; those who had money were to provide for those who had none, till "order could be taken."

On the 7th of January, the vice-admiral, Sir William Woodhouse, was directed to go instantly to sea, pressing everything that would float, and promising indemnity to the owners in the queen's name. Thirty thousand men were rapidly on their way to the coast; the weather had all along been clear and frosty, with calms and light east winds, and the sea off Dover was swiftly covered with a miscellaneous crowd of vessels. On the 10th came the queen's command for the army to cross to Dunkirk, join the Duke of Savoy, and save Guisnes.

But the opportunity which had been long offered, and long neglected, was now altogether gone; the ships were ready, troops came, and arms came, but a change of weather came also, and westerly gales and storms. On the night of the 10th a gale blew up from the south-west which raged for four days: such vessels as could face the sea, slipped their moorings, and made their way into the Thames with loss of spars and rigging; the hulls of the rest strewed Dover beach with wrecks, or were swallowed in the quicksands of the Goodwin.

The effect of this last misfortune on the queen was to produce utter prostration. Storms may rise, vessels may be wrecked, and excellent enterprises may suffer hindrance, by the common laws or common chances of things; but the queen in every large occurrence imagined a miracle; Heaven she believed was against her. Though Guisnes was yet standing, she ordered Woodhouse to collect the ships again in the Thames, "forasmuch as the principal cause of their sending forth had ceased;"[630] and on {p.303} the 13th she counter-ordered the musters, and sent home all the troops which had arrived at Dover.[631]

[Footnote 630: The Queen to Sir William Woodhouse, January 12: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii.]

[Footnote 631: Circular for Staying of the Musters: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii.]

Having given way to despondency, the court should have communicated with Grey, and directed him to make terms for himself and the garrisons of Guisnes and Hammes. In the latter place there was but a small detachment; but at Guisnes were eleven hundred men, who might lose their lives in a desperate and now useless defence. The disaster, however, had taken away the power of thinking or resolving upon anything.

It must be said for Philip that he recognised more clearly and discharged more faithfully the duty of an English sovereign than the queen or the queen's advisers. Spanish and Burgundian troops were called under arms as fast as possible; and when he heard of the gale he sent ships from Antwerp and Dunkirk to bring across the English army. But when his transports arrived at Dover they found the men all gone. Proclamations went out on the 17th to call them back;[632] but two days after there was a counter-panic and a dread of invasion, and the perplexed levies were again told that they must remain at home. So it went on to the end of the month; the resolution of one day alternated with the hesitation of the next, and nothing was done.

The queen's government had lost their heads. Philip having done his own part, did not feel it incumbent on him to risk a battle with inferior numbers, when those who were more nearly concerned were contented to be supine. Guisnes, therefore, and its defenders, were left to their fate.

[Footnote 632: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii., January 17.]

On Thursday, the 13th, the Duke of Guise appeared before the gates. The garrison could have been starved out in a month, but Guise gave England credit for energy, and would not run the risk of a blockade. To reduce the extent of his lines, Grey abandoned the town, burnt the houses, and withdrew into the castle. The French made their approaches in form. On the morning of Monday the 17th they opened fire from two heavily armed batteries, and by the middle of the day they had silenced the English guns, and made a breach which they thought practicable. A storming party ventured an attempt: after sharp fighting the advanced columns had to retreat; but as they drew back the batteries re-opened, and so effectively, that the coming on of night alone saved the English from being driven at once, and on the spot, from their defences. The walls were of the old {p.304} sort, constructed when the art of gunnery was in its infancy, and brick and stone crumbled to ruins before the heavy cannon which had come lately into use.

Under shelter of the darkness earthworks were thrown up, which proved a better protection; but the French on their side planted other batteries, and all Tuesday and Wednesday the terrible bombardment was continued. The old walls were swept away; the ditch was choked with the rubbish, and was but a foot in depth; the French trenches had been advanced close to its edge, and on Wednesday afternoon (January 19), twelve companies of Gascons and Swiss again dashed at the breaches. The Gascons were the first; the Swiss followed "with a stately leisure;" and a hand-to-hand fight began all along the English works. The guns from a single tower which had been left standing causing loss to the assailants, it was destroyed by the batteries. The fight continued till night, when darkness as before put an end to it.

The earthworks could be again repaired, but the powder began to fail, and this loss was irreparable. Lord Grey, going his rounds in the dark, trod upon a sword point, and was wounded in the foot. The daylight brought the enemy again, who now succeeded in making themselves masters of the outer line of defence. Grey, crippled as he was, when he saw his men give way, sprung to the top of the rampart, "wishing God that some shot would take him." A soldier caught him by the scarf and pulled him down, and all that was left of the garrison fell back, carrying their commander with them into the keep. The gate was rammed close, but Guise could now finish his work at his leisure, and had the English at his mercy. He sent a trumpeter in the evening to propose a parley, and the soldiers insisted that if reasonable terms could be had, they should be accepted. The extremity of the position was obvious, and Grey, as we have seen, was no stranger to the law of arms in such cases. Hostages were exchanged, and the next morning the two commanders met in the French camp.

Better terms were offered by Guise than had been granted to Calais—Grey, Sir Henry Palmer, and a few officers should consider themselves prisoners; the rest of the garrison might depart with their arms, and "every man a crown in his purse." Grey, however, demanded that they should march out with their colours flying; Guise refused, and after an hour's discussion they separated without a conclusion.

But the soldiers were insensible to nice distinctions; if they {p.305} had the reality, they were not particular about the form. Grey lectured them on the duties of honour; for his part, he said, he would rather die under the red cross than lose it. The soldiers replied that their case was desperate; they would not be thrust into butchery or sell their lives for vain glory. The dispute was at its height when the Swiss troops began to lay ladders to the walls; the English refused to strike another blow; and Grey, on his own rule, would have deserved to be executed had he persisted longer.

Guise's terms were accepted. He had lived to repay England for his spear wound at Boulogne, and the last remnant of the conquests of the Plantagenets was gone.

Measured by substantial value, the loss of Calais was a gain. English princes were never again to lay claim to the crown of France, and the possession of a fortress on French soil was a perpetual irritation. But Calais was called the "brightest jewel in the English crown." A jewel it was, useless, costly, but dearly prized. Over the gate of Calais had once stood the insolent inscription:—

"Then shall the Frenchmen Calais win, When iron and lead like cork shall swim:"

and the Frenchmen had won it, won it in fair and gallant fight.

If Spain should rise suddenly into her ancient strength and tear Gibraltar from us, our mortification would be faint, compared to the anguish of humiliated pride with which the loss of Calais distracted the subjects of Queen Mary.



CHAPTER VI.

DEATH OF MARY.

The queen would probably have found the parliament which met on the 20th of January little better disposed towards her than its predecessor. The subsidy which should have paid the crown debts had gone as the opposition had foretold, and the country had been dragged after all into the war so long dreaded and so much deprecated. The forced loan of L100,000 had followed, and money was again wanted.

But ordinary occasions of discontent disappeared in the enormous misfortune of the loss of Calais; or rather, the loss of Calais had so humbled the nation in its own eyes, that it expected {p.306} to be overrun with French armies in the approaching summer. The church had thriven under Mary's munificence, but every other interest had been recklessly sacrificed. The fortresses were without arms, the ships were unfit for service, the coast was defenceless. The parliament postponed their complaints till the national safety had been provided for.

On the 26th, a committee, composed of thirty members of both houses, met to consider the crisis.[633] "That no way or policy should be undevised or not thought upon," they divided themselves into three sub-committees; and after three days' separate consultation the thirty met again, and agreed to recommend the heaviest subsidy which had been ever granted to an English sovereign, equivalent in modern computation to an income-tax of 20 per cent, for two years. If levied fairly such a tax would have yielded a large return. Michele, the Venetian, says that many London merchants were worth as much as L60,000 in money; the graziers and the merchants had made fortunes while the people had starved. But either from hatred of the government, or else from meanness of disposition, the money-making classes generally could not be expected to communicate the extent of their possessions. The landowners, truly or falsely, declared that, "for the most part, they received no more rent than they were wont to receive," "yet, paying for everything, they provided thrice as much by reason of the baseness of the money."[634] It was calculated that the annual proceeds of the subsidy would be no more than L140,000;[635] and even this the House of Commons declared that the country would not bear for more than one year. They did not choose perhaps to leave the queen at liberty to abuse their confidence by giving her the full grant to squander on the clergy. They were unanimous that the country must and should be defended. They admitted that the sum which they were ready to vote would fall short of the indispensable outlay; nevertheless, when the report of the committee was laid before them they cut it down to half. They agreed to give four shillings in the pound for one year, and to pay it all at Midsummer. "They entreated her majesty to stay the demanding of more" until another session of parliament. Should circumstances then require it, they promised that they {p.307} would add whatever might be necessary; but, for the present, "if any invasion should be in the realm, or if the enemy should seek to annoy them at home, they would have to employ themselves with all their powers, which would not be without their great charges."[636]

[Footnote 633: Commons Journals.]

[Footnote 634: Ibid. The famous graziers and other people, how well willing soever they be taken to be, will not be known of their wealth, and by miscontentment of their loss, be grown stubborn and liberal of talk. The Council to Philip: Cotton. MS. Titus, B. 2.]

[Footnote 635: Estimate of the money to be provided for the furniture and charges of the war: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii.]

[Footnote 636: Discourse on the order that was used in granting of the Subsidy: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii.]

The resolution of parliament decided the council in the course which they must pursue with respect to Calais. Philip, unable to prevent the catastrophe alone, proposed to take the field at once with a united army of English and Spaniards, to avenge it, and effect a recapture. He laid his plans before the council. The council, in reply, thanked his majesty for his good affection towards the realm; they would have accepted his offer on their knees had it been possible, but the state of England obliged them to decline. The enemy, after the time which had been allowed them, "would be in such strength that it was doubtful if by force alone they could be expelled." If England sent out an army, it could not send less than twenty thousand men; and the troops would go unwillingly upon a service for which they had no heart, at a time of year when they were unused to exposure. Before the year was out L150,000 at the lowest would have to be spent in keeping the musters of the country under arms. The navy and the defences of the coast and of the isles, would cost L200,000, without including the losses of cannon and military stores at Guisnes and Calais, which would have to be made good. The campaign which Philip proposed could not cost less than a further L170,000; and so much money could not be had "without the people should have strange impositions set upon them, which they could not bear." There was but "a wan hope of recovering Calais," and "inconveniences might follow" if the attempt was made and failed.[637]

[Footnote 637: The Council to Philip: Cotton. MSS. Titus, B. 2.]

"The people have only in their heads," the council added, "the defence of the realm by land and sea." The hated connection with Spain had produced all the evils which the opponents of the marriage had foretold, and no good was expected from any enterprise pursued in common with Philip. Prone as the English were to explain events by supernatural causes, they saw, like the queen, in the misfortunes which had haunted her, an evidence that Heaven was not on her side, and they despaired of success in anything until it could be undertaken under better auspices. They would take care of themselves at home, and they would do no more. In reducing the subsidy, the Commons {p.308} promised to defend the country "with the residue of their goods and life," to "provide every man armour and weapons according to his ability," and to insist by a special law that it should be done.[638]

[Footnote 638: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii.]

Every peer, knight, or gentleman, with an income above L1000 a-year, was called on to furnish sixteen horses, with steel harness, forty corslets, coats of mail, and morions, thirty longbows, with sheaves of arrows, and as many steelcaps, halberds, blackbills, and haquebuts. All English subjects, in a descending scale, were required to arm others or arm themselves according to their property.[639]

[Footnote 639: 4 and 5 Philip and Mary, statute 2.]

In the levies of the past summer, men had shrunk from service, and muster-masters, after the fashion of Falstaff, had taken bribes to excuse them. On the present occasion no excuse was to be taken, and every able-bodied man, of any rank, from sixteen to sixty, was to be ready to take arms when called upon, and join his officers, under pain of death.[640] With these essential orders, the business of the legislature ended, and parliament was prorogued on the 7th of March till the following November.

[Footnote 640: Ibid. statute 3.]

The chief immediate difficulty was to find money for present necessities. The loan was gone. The subsidy would not come in for six months. Englefield, Waldegrave, Petre, Baker, and Sir Walter Mildmay, were formed into a permanent committee of ways and means, with instructions to sit daily "till some device had been arrived at."[641] Sir Thomas Gresham was sent again to Antwerp to borrow L200,000, if possible, at fourteen per cent.[642] The queen applied in person for a loan to the citizens of London. For security, she offered to bind the crown lands, "so assuredly as they themselves could cause to be devised;"[643] and she promised, further, that, if she could legally do it, she would dispense in their favour with the statute for the limitation of usury.

[Footnote 641: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xii.]

[Footnote 642: Flanders MSS. Mary. The aggregate of the debts to the Flanders Jews, which Elizabeth inherited, cannot be prudently guessed at; and I have not yet found any complete account on which I can rely. It cost her, however, fifteen years of economy to pay them off.]

[Footnote 643: Queen Mary to the Aldermen of the City of London: MS. Ibid.]

To this last appeal the corporation responded with a loan of L20,000, at twelve per cent.; the Merchant Adventurers contributed L18,000 more; and Gresham sent from Flanders from time to time whatever he could obtain. In this way dockyards and armouries were set in activity, and the castles on the coast were repaired.

{p.309} Yet with the masses the work of arming went forward languidly. The nation was heavy at heart, and it was in vain that the noblemen and gentlemen endeavoured to raise men's spirits; the black incubus of the priesthood sat upon them like a nightmare. The burnings had been suspended while parliament was in session. On the 28th of March the work began again, and Cuthbert Simson, the minister of a protestant congregation, was put to death in Smithfield, having been first racked to extort from him the names of his supporters;[644] on the same day Reginald Pole, to clear himself of the charge of heresy, sent a fresh commission to Harpsfeld, to purge the diocese of Canterbury;[645] and the people, sick to their very souls at the abominable spectacles which were thrust before them, sank into a sullen despondency.

[Footnote 644: Foxe: Burnet.]

[Footnote 645: Strype's Memorials, vol. vi. p. 120.]

The musters for Derbyshire were set down at fifteen hundred. Lord Shrewsbury raised four hundred from among his own dependents on his estates. The magistrates declared that, owing to dearth, want, and waste of means in the war of the last year, the "poor little county" could provide but one hundred more.

The musters in Devonshire broke up and went to their homes. The musters in Lincolnshire mutinied. The ringleaders in both counties were immediately hanged;[646] yet the loyalty was none the greater. The exiled divines in Germany, believing that the people were at last ripe for insurrection, called on them to rise and put down the tyranny which was crushing them. Goodman published a tract on the obedience of subjects, and John Knox blew his "First Blast against the Monstrous Regimen of Women." The queen, as if the ordinary laws of the country had no existence, sent out a proclamation that any one who was found to have these books in his or her possession, or who, finding such books, did not instantly burn them, should be executed as a rebel by martial law.[647] "Affectionate as I be to my country and countrymen," said Sir Thomas Smith, "I was ashamed of both; they went about their matters as men amazed, that wist not where to begin or end. And what marvel was it? Here was nothing but firing, heading, hanging, quartering and burning, taxing and levying. A few priests in white rochets ruled all, who with setting up of six-foot roods and rebuilding of roodlofts, thought to make all sure."

[Footnote 646: Privy Council Register, MS. Mary.]

[Footnote 647: Royal Proclamation, June 6, 1558: Strype's Memorials, vol. vi.; Foxe, vol. xiii.]

With the summer, fever and ague set in like a pestilence, {p.310} "God did so punish the realm," said Sir Thomas Smith again, "with quartan agues, and with such other long and new sicknesses, that in the last two years of the reign of Queen Mary, so many of her subjects was made away, what with the execution of sword and fire, what by sicknesses, that the third part of the men of England were consumed."[648] In the spring, the queen, misled by the same symptoms which had deceived her before, had again fancied herself enceinte. She made her will in the avowed expectation that she was about to undergo the perils of childbearing. She wrote for her husband to come to her. She sent the fleet into the Channel, and laid relays of horses along the roads to London from Dover and from Harwich, that he might choose at which port to land.

[Footnote 648: Oration on the Queen's Marriage: Strype's Life of Sir Thomas Smith.]

Philip so far humoured the fancy, which he must have known to be delusive, that he sent the Count de Feria to congratulate her. Her letter, he said, contained the best news which he had heard since the loss of Calais. But the bubble broke soon. Mary had parted from her husband on the 5th of the preceding July, and her suspense, therefore, was not long protracted. It is scarcely necessary to say in what direction her second disappointment vented itself.

Cranmer alone hitherto had suffered after recantation; to others, pardon had continued to be offered to the last moment. But this poor mercy was now extinguished. A man in Hampshire, named Bembridge, exclaimed at the point of execution that he would submit; a form was produced on the spot, which Bembridge signed, and the sheriff, Sir Richard Pexall, reprieved him by his own authority. But a letter of council came instantly to Pexall, that "the queen's majesty could not but find it very strange" that he had saved from punishment a man condemned for heresy: the execution was to proceed out of hand; and "if the prisoner continued in the Catholic faith, as he pretended," "some discreet and learned man might be present with him in his death, for the aiding of him to die God's servant."[649] Bembridge was accordingly burnt, and the sheriff, for the lenity which he had dare to show, was committed to the Fleet. Whole detachments of men and women were again slaughtered in London; and the queen, exasperated at the determination with which the populace cheered the sufferers with their sympathy, sent out a proclamation forbidding her subjects to approach, touch, speak to, or comfort heretics on {p.311} their way to execution, under pain of death. Shortly after, a congregation of Protestants were detected at a prayer-meeting in a field near the city; thirteen were taken as prisoners before Bonner, and seven were burnt at Smithfield together on the 28th of June. The people replied to the queen's menaces by crowding about the stake with passionate demonstrations of affection, and Thomas Bentham, a friend of Lever the preacher, when the faggots were lighted, stood out in the presence of the throng, and cried:

[Footnote 649: Privy Council Register, MS.]

"We know that they are the people of God, and therefore we cannot choose but wish well to them and say, God strengthen them. God almighty, for Christ's sake, strengthen them."

The multitude shouted, in reply, "Amen, Amen."[650]

[Footnote 650: Bentham to Lever: Strype's Memorials, vol. vi.]

Alarmed himself, this time, at the display of emotion, Bonner dared not outrage the metropolis with the deaths of the remaining six. Yet, not to let them escape him, he tried them privately in his own house at Fulham, and burnt them at Brentford at night in the darkness.[651]

[Footnote 651: "This fact," says Foxe, "purchased him more hatred than any that he had done of the common people."]

So fared the Protestants, murdered to propitiate Providence, and, if possible, extort for the queen a return of the Divine favour. The alarm of invasion diminished as summer advanced. England had again a fleet upon the seas which feared no enemy, and could even act on the offensive. In May, two hundred and forty ships, large and small, were collected at Portsmouth;[652] and on the day of the burning at Brentford, accident gave a small squadron among them a share in a considerable victory.

[Footnote 652: Swift to the Earl of Shrewsbury: Lodge's Illustrations.]

Lord Clinton, who was now admiral in the place of Howard, after an ineffectual cruise in the south of the Channel, returned to Portsmouth on the 8th of July. A few vessels remained in the neighbourhood of Calais, when M. de Thermes, whom the Duke of Guise left in command there, with the garrison of Boulogne, some levies collected in Picardy, and his own troops, in all about 9000 men, ventured an inroad into the Low Countries, took Dunkirk, and plundered it. Not caring to penetrate further, he was retreating with his booty, when Count Egmont, with a few thousand Burgundians and Flemings, cut in at Gravelines between the French and their own frontiers. They had no means of passing, except at low water, between the town of Gravelines and the sea, and the English ships, which were in {p.312} communication with Egmont, stood in as near as they could venture, so as to command the sands.

De Thermes, obliged to advance when the tide would permit him, dashed at the dangerous passage; the guns of Gravelines on one side, the guns of the English vessels on the other, tore his ranks to pieces, and Egmont charging when their confusion was at its worst, the French were almost annihilated. Five thousand were killed, De Thermes himself, Senarpont of Boulogne, the Governor of Picardy, and many other men of note, were taken. If Clinton had been at hand with the strength of the fleet, and a dash had been made at Calais by land and sea, it would have been recovered more easily than it had been lost. But fortune had no such favour to bestow on Queen Mary. Clinton was still loitering at Spithead, and when news of the action came it was too late.

The plan of the naval campaign for the season was to attack Brest with the united strength of England and Flanders, and hold it as a security for the restoration of Calais at the peace. It was for the arrival of his allies that Clinton had been waiting, and it was only at the end of the month that the combined fleet, a hundred and forty sail, left Portsmouth for the coast of Brittany. They appeared duly off Brest; yet, when their object was before them, they changed their minds on the feasibility of their enterprise; and leaving their original design they landed a force at Conquet, which they plundered and burnt, and afterwards destroyed some other villages in the neighbourhood. The achievement was not a very splendid one. Four or five hundred Flemings who ventured too far from the fleet were cut off; and as the Duke d'Estampes was said to be coming up with 20,000 men, Clinton re-embarked his men in haste, returned to Portsmouth, after an ineffectual and merely mischievous demonstration, and then reported the sickness in the fleet so considerable, that the operations for the season must be considered at an end.[653]

[Footnote 653: MS. Mary, Domestic, vol. xiii.]

In the meantime, the contending princes in their own persons, Philip with the powers of the Low Countries and Spain, Henry with the whole available strength of France, sate watching each other in entrenched camps upon the Somme. The French king, with the recollection of St. Quentin fresh upon him, would not risk a second such defeat. Philip would not hazard his late advantage by forcing an action which might lose for him all that he had gained. In the pause, the conviction came slowly over both, that there was no need for further bloodshed, and that the {p.313} long, weary, profitless war might at last have an end. A mighty revolution had passed over Europe since Francis first led an army over the Alps. The world had passed into a new era; and the question of strength had to be tried, not any more between Spaniard and Frenchman, but between Protestant and Catholic. Already the disciples of Calvin threatened the Church of France; Holland was vexing the superstition of Philip, and the Protestants in Scotland were breaking from the hand of Mary of Guise: more and more the Catholic princes felt the want of a general council, that the questions of the day might be taken hold of firmly, and the Inquisition be set to work on some resolute principle of concert.

On September 21, the emperor passed away in his retirement at St. Just. With him perished the traditions and passions of which he was the last representative, and a new page was turning in the history of mankind. Essential ground of quarrel between Henry and Philip there was none; the outward accidental ground—the claims on Milan and Naples, Savoy and Navarre—had been rendered easy of settlement by the conquest of Calais, and by the marriage which was consummated a few weeks after Guise's victory, between the Dauphin and the Queen of Scots.

Satisfied with the triumph of a policy which had annexed the crown of Scotland to France, and with having driven the English by main strength from their last foothold on French soil, Henry could now be content to evacuate Savoy and Piedmont, if Philip, on his side, would repeat the desertion of Crepy, and having brought England into the war, would leave her to endure her own losses, or avenge them by her single strength. With this secret meaning on the part of France, an overture for a peace was commenced in the autumn of 1558, through the mediation of the Duchess of Lorraine. An armistice was agreed upon, and the first conference was held at the abbey of Cercamp, where Arundel, Wotton, and Thirlby attended as the representatives of England.

How far Philip would consent to an arrangement so perfidious towards the country of which he was the nominal sovereign, depended, first, on the life of the queen. The titular King of England could by no fiction or pretext relieve himself of the duties which the designation imposed upon him; and if the English were deserted their resentment would explode in a revolution of which Mary would be the instant victim.[654]

[Footnote 654: Renard found it necessary to warn Philip of this, in a despatch written in October: Granvelle Papers, vol. v. p. 225.]

{p.314} Mary, indeed, would soon cease to be a difficulty. She was attacked in September by the fever which was carrying off so many of her subjects. The fresh disease aggravated her constitutional disorder, and her days were drawing fast to their end. But Philip's hold on England need not perish with the death of his wife, if he could persuade her sister to take her place. His policy, therefore, was for the present to linger out the negotiations; to identify in appearance his own and the English interests, and to wait the events of the winter.

At the opening of the conference it was immediately evident that France would not part with Calais. The English commissioners had been ordered to take no part in the discussion, unless the restitution was agreed on as a preliminary; and when they made their demand, Henry replied that "he would hazard his crown rather than forego his conquest."[655] The resolution was expressed decisively; and they saw, or thought they saw, so much indifference in the Spanish representatives, that they at first intended to return to England on the spot.

[Footnote 655: Arundel, Thirlby, and Wotton to the Council: French MSS., bundle 13.]

"To our minds," they wrote, "Calais is so necessary to be had again for the quieting of the world's mind in England, and it should so much offend and exasperate England, if any peace was made without restitution of it, that, for our part, no earthly private commodity nor profit could induce us thereto, nor nothing could be more grievous to us than to be ministers therein."[656]

[Footnote 656: Ibid.]

They were on the point of departure, when a letter from Philip required them to remain at their posts. Contrary to their expectation, the king promised to support England in insisting on the restoration, and his own commissioners were instructed equally to agree to nothing unless it was conceded.[657] Thus for a time the negotiation remained suspended till events should clear up the course which the different parties would follow.

[Footnote 657: Philip to the English Ambassador, October 30: Ibid.]

And these events, or the one great event, was now close, and the shadows were drawing down over the life of the unfortunate Mary. Amidst discontent and misery at home, disgrace and failure abroad, the fantastic comparisons, the delirious analogies, the child which was to be born of the Virgin Mary for the salvation of mankind—where were now these visionary and humiliating dreams?

{p.315} On the 6th of October, the privy council were summoned to London "for great and urgent affairs." At the beginning of November three men and two women suffered at Canterbury. They were the last who were put to death, and had been presented by Pole in person to be visited "with condign punishment."[658] On the 5th, parliament met, and the promised second subsidy was demanded, but the session was too brief for a resolution. The queen's life, at the time of the opening, was a question perhaps of hours, at most of days; and aware of what was impending, Philip despatched the Count de Feria to her with a desire that she should offer no objections to the succession of Elizabeth.

[Footnote 658: "Condigna animadversione plectendos."—Wilkins's Concilia, vol. iv.]

The count reached London on the 9th of November. He was admitted to an interview, and the queen, too brave to repine at what was now inevitable, and anxious to the last to please her husband, declared herself "well content" that it should be as he wished; she entreated only that her debts might be paid, and that "religion" should not be changed.

Leaving Mary's deathbed, De Feria informed the council of the king's request, and from the council hastened to the house of Lord Clinton, a few miles from London, where Elizabeth was staying. In Philip's name, he informed her that her succession was assured; his master had used his influence in her favour, and no opposition need be anticipated.

Elizabeth listened graciously. That Philip's services to her, however, had been so considerable as De Feria told her, she was unable to allow. She admitted, and admitted thankfully, the good offices which he had shown to her when she was at Woodstock. She was perhaps ignorant that it was for the safety of Philip's life that her own had been so nearly sacrificed; that Philip's interest in her succession had commenced only when his own appeared impossible. But she knew how narrow had been her escape; she had neither forgotten her danger, nor ceased to resent her treatment. It was to the people of England, she told the count, that she owed her real gratitude. The people had saved her from destruction; the people had prevented her sister from changing the settlement of the crown. She would be the people's queen, and she would reign in the people's interest.

De Feria feared, from what she said, that "in religion she would not go right." The ladies by whom she was surrounded were suspected; Sir William Cecil, whose conformity was as transparent then as it is now, would be her principal secretary; {p.316} and the count observed, with a foreboding of evil, that "she had an admiration for the king her father's mode of ruling;" and that of the legate she spoke with cold severity.[659]

[Footnote 659: Report of the Count de Feria: Tytler, vol. ii. p. 494. Memorial of the Duchess of Feria, MS., quoted by Lingard.]

It is possible that Pole was made acquainted with Elizabeth's feelings towards him. To himself personally, those feelings were of little moment, for he, too, like the queen, was dying—dying to be spared a second exile, and the wretchedness of seeing with his eyes the dissolution of the phantom fabric which he had given the labours of his life to build.

Yet what he did not live to behold he could not have failed to anticipate. The spirit of Henry VIII. was rising from the grave to scatter his work to all the winds; while he, the champion of Heaven, the destroyer of heresy, was lying himself under a charge of the same crime, with the pope for his accuser. Without straining too far the licence of imagination, we may believe that the disease which was destroying him was chiefly a broken heart. But it was painful to him to lie under the ill opinion of the person who was so soon to be on the throne of England; and possibly he wished to leave her, as a legacy, the warning entreaties of a dying man.

Three days after De Feria's visit, therefore, Pole sent the Dean of Worcester to Elizabeth with a message, the import of which is unknown; and a short letter, as the dean's credentials, saying only that the legate desired, before he should depart, to leave all persons satisfied of him, and especially her grace.[660]

[Footnote 660: Cotton. MS. Vespasian. F. 3. The letter is written in a shaking hand. The address is lost, and being dated the 14th of November, while Mary was still alive, it has been described as to her and not to her sister. But an endorsement "From the queen's majesty at Hatfield," leaves no doubt to whom it was written.]

This was the 14th of November. The same day, or the day after, a lady-in-waiting carried the queen's last wishes to her successor. They were the same which she had already mentioned to De Feria—that her debts should be paid, and that the Catholic religion might be maintained, with an additional request that her servants should be properly cared for.[661] Then, taking leave of a world in which she had played so ill a part, she prepared, with quiet piety, for the end. On the 16th, at midnight, she received the last rites of the church. Towards {p.317} morning, as she was sinking, mass was said at her bedside. At the elevation of the Host, unable to speak or move, she fixed her eyes upon the body of her Lord; and as the last words of the benediction were uttered, her head sunk, and she was gone.

[Footnote 661: Among the apocryphal or vaguely attested anecdotes of the end of Mary, she is reported to have said, that if her body was opened, Calais would be found written on her heart. The story is not particularly characteristic, but having come somehow into existence, there is no reason why it should not continue to be believed.]

A few hours later (November 17), at Lambeth, Pole followed her, and the reign of the pope of England, and the reign of terror, closed together.

No English sovereign ever ascended the throne with larger popularity than Mary Tudor. The country was eager to atone to her for her mother's injuries; and the instinctive loyalty of the English towards their natural sovereign was enhanced by the abortive efforts of Northumberland to rob her of her inheritance. She had reigned little more than five years, and she descended into the grave amidst curses deeper than the acclamations which had welcomed her accession. In that brief time she had swathed her name in the horrid epithet which will cling to it for ever; and yet from the passions which in general tempt sovereigns into crime, she was entirely free: to the time of her accession she had lived a blameless, and, in many respects, a noble life; and few men or women have lived less capable of doing knowingly a wrong thing.

Philip's conduct, which could not extinguish her passion for him, and the collapse of the inflated imaginations which had surrounded her supposed pregnancy, it can hardly be doubted, affected her sanity. Those forlorn hours when she would sit on the ground with her knees drawn to her face; those restless days and nights when, like a ghost, she would wander about the palace galleries, rousing herself only to write tear-blotted letters to her husband; those bursts of fury over the libels dropped in her way; or the marchings in procession behind the host in the London streets—these are all symptoms of hysterical derangement, and leave little room, as we think of her, for other feelings than pity. But if Mary was insane, the madness was of a kind which placed her absolutely under her spiritual directors; and the responsibility for her cruelties, if responsibility be anything but a name, rests first with Gardiner, who commenced them, and, secondly, and in a higher degree, with Reginald Pole. Because Pole, with the council, once interfered to prevent an imprudent massacre in Smithfield; because, being legate, he left the common duties of his diocese to subordinates, he is not to be held innocent of atrocities which could neither have been commenced nor continued without his sanction; and he was notoriously the one person in the council whom the queen {p.318} absolutely trusted. The revenge of the clergy for their past humiliations, and the too natural tendency of an oppressed party to abuse suddenly recovered power, combined to originate the Marian persecution. The rebellions and massacres, the political scandals, the universal suffering throughout the country during Edward's minority, had created a general bitterness in all classes against the Reformers; the Catholics could appeal with justice to the apparent consequences of heretical opinions; and when the reforming preachers themselves denounced so loudly the irreligion which had attended their success, there was little wonder that the world took them at their word, and was ready to permit the use of strong suppressive measures to keep down the unruly tendencies of uncontrolled fanatics.

But neither these nor any other feelings of English growth could have produced the scenes which have stamped this unhappy reign with a character so frightful. The parliament which re-enacted the Lollard statutes, had refused to restore the Six Articles as being too severe; yet under the Six Articles twenty-one persons only suffered in six years; while, perhaps, not twice as many more had been executed under the earlier acts in the century and a half in which they had stood on the Statute roll. The harshness of the law confined the action of it to men who were definitely dangerous; and when the bishops' powers were given back to them, there was little anticipation of the manner in which those powers would be misused.

And that except from some special influences they would not have been thus misused, the local character of the persecution may be taken to prove. The storm was violent only in London, in Essex, which was in the diocese of London, and in Canterbury. It raged long after the death of Gardiner; and Gardiner, though he made the beginning, ceased after the first few months to take further part in it. The Bishop of Winchester would have had a persecution, and a keen one; but the fervour of others left his lagging zeal far behind. For the first and last time the true Ultramontane spirit was dominant in England; the genuine conviction that, as the orthodox prophets and sovereigns of Israel slew the worshippers of Baal, so were Catholics rulers called upon, as their first duty, to extirpate heretics as the enemies of God and man.

The language of the legate to the city of London shows the devout sincerity with which he held that opinion himself. Through him, and sustained by his authority, the queen held it; and by these two the ecclesiastical government of England was conducted.

{p.319} Archbishop Parker, who succeeded Pole at Canterbury, and had therefore the best opportunity of knowing what his conduct had really been, called him Carnifex et flagellum Ecclesae Anglicanae, the hangman and the scourge of the Church of England. His character was irreproachable; in all the virtues of the Catholic Church he walked without spot or stain; and the system to which he had surrendered himself had left to him of the common selfishnesses of mankind his enormous vanity alone. But that system had extinguished also in him the human instincts, the genial emotions by which theological theories stand especially in need to be corrected. He belonged to a class of persons at all times numerous, in whom enthusiasm takes the place of understanding; who are men of an "idea;" and unable to accept human things as they are, are passionate loyalists, passionate churchmen, passionate revolutionists, as the accidents of their age may determine. Happily for the welfare of mankind, persons so constituted rarely arrive at power: should power come to them, they use it, as Pole used it, to defeat the ends which are nearest to their hearts.

The teachers who finally converted the English nation to Protestantism were not the declaimers from the pulpit, nor the voluminous controversialists with the pen. These, indeed, could produce arguments which, to those who were already convinced, seemed as if they ought to produce conviction; but conviction did not follow till the fruits of the doctrine bore witness to the spirit from which it came. The evangelical teachers, caring only to be allowed to develop their own opinions, and persecute their opponents, had walked hand in hand with men who had spared neither tomb nor altar, who had stripped the lead from the church roofs, and stolen the bells from the church towers; and between them they had so outraged such plain honest minds as remained in England, that had Mary been content with mild repression, had she left the pope to those who loved him, and married, instead of Philip, some English lord, the mass would have retained its place, the clergy in moderate form would have resumed their old authority, and the Reformation would have waited for a century. In an evil hour, the queen listened to the unwise advisers, who told her that moderation in religion was the sin of the Laodicaeans; and while the fanatics who had brought scandal on the Reforming cause, either truckled, like Shaxton, or stole abroad to wrangle over surplices and forms of prayer, the true and the good atoned with their lives for the crimes of others, and vindicated a noble cause by nobly dying for it.

{p.320} And while among the Reformers that which was most bright and excellent shone out with preternatural lustre, so were the Catholics permitted to exhibit also the preternatural features of the creed which was expiring.

Although Pole and Mary could have laid their hands on earl and baron, knight and gentleman, whose heresy was notorious, although in the queen's own guard there were many who never listened to a mass,[662] they dared not strike where there was danger that they would be struck in return. They went out into the highways and hedges; they gathered up the lame, the halt, and the blind; they took the weaver from his loom, the carpenter from his workshop, the husbandman from his plough; they laid hands on maidens and boys "who had never heard of any other religion than that which they were called on to abjure;"[663] old men tottering into the grave, and children whose lips could but just lisp the articles of their creed; and of these they made their burnt-offerings; with these they crowded their prisons, and when filth and famine killed them, they flung them out to rot. How long England would have endured the repetition of the horrid spectacles is hard to say. The persecution lasted three years, and in that time something less than 300 persons were burnt at the stake.[664] "By imprisonment," said Lord Burghley, "by torment, by famine, by fire, almost the number of 400 were," in their various ways, "lamentably destroyed."

[Footnote 662: Underhill's Narrative.]

[Footnote 663: Burghley's Execution of Justice.]

[Footnote 664: The number is variously computed at 270, 280, and 290.]

Yet, as has been already said, interference was impossible except by armed force. The country knew from the first that by the course of nature the period of cruelty must be a brief one; it knew that a successful rebellion is at best a calamity; and the bravest and wisest men would not injure an illustrious cause by conduct less than worthy of it, so long as endurance was possible. They had saved Elizabeth's life and Elizabeth's rights, and Elizabeth, when her time came, would deliver her subjects. The Catholics, therefore, were permitted to continue their cruelties till the cup of iniquity was full; till they had taught the educated laity of England to regard them with horror; and till the Romanist superstition had died, amidst the execrations of the people, of its own excess.



{p.321} INDEX

Abergavenny, Lord, 90, 92-6, 177. d'Aguilar, 139. Alexander, Mr., 296. Alva, Duke of, 139-43, 165, 171, 210, 275, 276, 285, 292. Annates, payment of, 239, 240. Arnold, Sir Nicholas, 114, 260. Arras, Bishop of, 38, 60, 61, 85, 119, 150, 155, 208. Arundel, Lord, 13, 18, 21, 22, 28, 42, 43, 116, 171, 313, 314. "Arundel's," 262. Ashley, Mrs., 217. Ashridge, Elizabeth at, 217. Ashton, Christopher, 260-2. Askew, Anne, 201, 202. Astley Park, 101. Aucher, Mr., 296. Augsburg, Cardinal of, 190. Aylmer, 70.

Bagenall, Sir Ralph, 170. Baker, 308. Baoardo's History, 1, 10, 20, 28, 35, 40, 92, 100, 102, 111, 112, 141-3. Barlow, Bishop, 47. Bath, Earl of, 11, 71. Baynard's Castle, 18. Bedford, Lord, 34, 83, 129, 136. Bedingfield, Sir Henry, 11, 215. Bedyll, 267, 268. Bembridge, 310. Bentham, Thos., 311. Berkeley, Sir Maurice, 109. Binifield, 268. Bird, Bishop, 47. Bishops Authority Bill, 133; creation of new, 119; requests to the, 176, 177; Mary's letter to the, 212. Blacklock, 263. Bocher, Joan, 135. Bonner, Edmond, 32, 47, 83, 155, 190, 197, 201, 202, 212, 223, 232, 235, 245, 246, 257, 278, 280, 311. Bourne, Dr., 34, 37, 68, 116, 180. Bradford, Bishop, 37, 191, 196. Bradford, John, 220-2. Bray, Sir Ed., 95, 268. Brett, Captain, 95, 107-9, 114. Bromley, Sir Thos., 46, 132. Brookes, Bishop of Gloucester, 224. Brown, Sir Anthony, 141. Brydges, Sir John, 104, 112, 119, 126, 135, 178, 194, 252. Bucer, Martin, 281. Burghley, Lord, 320. Burnet, referred to, 67, 118, 149, 150, 157, 189, 193, 211, 212, 281, 288, 309. Bush, Paul, 47. Bushing, 296.

Calais, 294-305, 314. Caraffa, Cardinal, see Paul IV. Cardmaker, 191, 213. Carew, Sir Gawen, 110. Carew, Sir Peter, 11, 87-90, 120-2, 140, 157. Castaldo, John Baptiste, 145. Castro, Alphonse, 197. Cathie, Catherine, 281. Causton, Thos., 201. Cava, meeting at, 292. Cecil, Sir Wm., 15, 23, 161, 315. Celi, Medina, 139. Celibacy of clergy, 47, 70. Cercamp, conference at, 313. Cervino, Marcellus, 206, 210. Champernowne, Sir Arthur, 88, 89. Chandos, Lord, see Brydges. Chappelle, Admiral, 136. Charles V., 24, 25, 29, 30, 51, 55-7, 67, 83, 84, 94, 110, 114-19, 144, 151, 159, 161, 218, 223. Cheke, Sir John, 6, 15, 20. Cheny, 70. Cheyne, Sir Thos., 15, 16, 91, 92, 95, 96, 104, 116. Chichester, Bishop of, see Scory. Chichester, Sir John, 88, 89, 262. Cholmley, Judge, 28. Christopherson, Bishop, 281. Church property secularised, 176, 178, 179. Clarence, Lady, 72, 216. Clarke, George, 93. Clinton, Lord, 23, 106, 311, 312, 315. Cobham, Lord, 13, 90, 91, 94-6, 109, 114, 127, 164. Cole, 253, 254. Colebrook, meeting at, 215. Coligny, Admiral, 290. Commendone, Cardinal, 53, 54, 67. Commons Journals, quoted, 133, 232, 239, 240. Conquet, plundering of, 312. Convocation, demands of the Lower House, 176, 177. Cornwallis, Sir Thos., 97, 107, 114, 116, 123, 295. Coronation Oath, 60. Corry, Thos., 120. de Courieres, 2, 83, 85. Cotton MSS., 81, 225, 243, 306, 307. Courtenay, Lord, 6, 24, 30, 37-9, 59, 69-71, 76, 87-91, 103, 107, 110, 113-16, 130, 131, 162, 198, 262, 272. Coventry, 100. Coverdale, Miles, 47, 134, 206. Cowling Castle, 96, 164. Cranmer, Thos., 15, 20, 48, 74, 110, 118, 134, 165, 212, 224-34, 245-59. Crofts, Sir James, 23, 87, 102, 110, 114, 157.

Dalaber, Anthony, 203. Daniel, John, 262, 263, 266, 268. Darcy, 116. Day, Bishop, 32, 47. Debts of the Crown, 33. Delaware, Lord, 268. Dennys, Sir Thos., 90. Derby, Earl of, 11, 36, 37, 71, 83, 116, 136. Derick, 267, 268. Desmond, Earl of, 278. Devonshire, Earl of, 273, 274. Dives, Louis, 296. Doria, Andrea, 145. Drury, Sir Wm., 11. Dudley, Lord Ambrose, 23, 28, 74. Dudley, Sir Andrew, 17, 40-2. Dudley, Lord Guilford, 4, 5, 10, 74. Dudley, Lord Henry, 12, 74. Dudley, Sir Henry, 260, 263-7. Dudley, Lord Robert, 23, 28. Dunkirk, plundering of, 311. Durham, Bishop of, 164. Dymocke, Sir Ed., 61.

Edgecumbe, Sir Richard, 90. Edward VI., 1-3, 35, 36. Egmont, Count, 83, 85, 98, 115, 139, 311. Elder, John, 141. Elizabeth Tudor, 30-2, 57, 76-8, 93, 94, 103, 110, 114, 115, 122-31, 136, 155, 162, 199, 200, 213-19, 236, 315-320. d'Enghien, Duc, 291. Englefield, Sir Francis, 71, 267, 268, 308. d'Estampes, Duke, 312. Exeter, Marchioness of, 69.

Fagius, Paul, 281. Famine in England, 277. Feckenham, Abbot, 68, 111, 277. Feria, Count de, 139, 310, 315. Ferrars, Robert, 47, 134, 203-6. Fitzgerald, 23. Fitzwalter, Lord, 129. Fitzwarren, 23. Flanders MSS., 85. Flower, Wm., 206. Foxe, quoted, 16, 17, 22, 23, 48, 68, 70, 130, 173, 191, 196, 197, 200, 202, 213, 214, 216, 224, 225, 232-5, 245, 246, 253, 269, 270, 281, 282, 309. Framlingham, 21.

Gage, Sir John, 107, 108, 116, 126, 130. Gardiner, Stephen, 28, 30, 33, 36, 41, 47, 56-63, 72-6, 83, 89, 91-7, 103, 106, 109, 114-23, 132-5, 162, 171, 172, 175, 177, 190, 196-7, 208, 223, 237, 238. Gates, Sir Henry, 40-2. Gates, Sir John, 14, 40-5. Goldwell, Thos., 81. Gomez, Ruy, 171, 185, 186. Gonzaga, Hernando de, 139, 145. Goodman, 309. Granvelle Papers, 3, 8, 13, 18, 19, 25, 27, 32, 37-9, 47, 55, 56, 61, 64, 85, 92, 97, 105, 115, 116, 119, 137, 139, 147, 150, 151, 155-7, 162, 176, 178, 179, 185, 186, 197-9, 200, 214, 216, 313. Gravelines, Cardinal Pole at, 162. Great Bill, the, 180-2. Greenwich, disturbance at, 60. Gresham, Sir Thos., 84, 139, 208, 209, 308. Grey, Lady Jane, 4-20, 31, 39, 44, 74, 100, 110, 111. Grey, Lord John, 87, 92, 102, 110, 178. Grey, Lord Leonard, 87. Grey, Lord Thomas, 87, 90, 92, 101, 102, 106, 110, 116, 135. Grey, de Wilton, Lord, 12, 23, 28, 295-304. Grey, Sir Arthur, 296. Grey Friars Chronicle, see Machyn. Griffin, Maurice, 212. Guise, Duke of, 285, 291, 297-305. Guisnes, 294-9, 302, 303. Gybbes, Mr., 88, 89.

Hambletue, 298. Hammes, 294, 296, 299, 303. Hampton Court, Mary at, 208; Elizabeth at, 215. Harding, 269. Harleian MSS., 20, 24, 35, 42, 45, 61, 112, 127, 130, 153, 166, 170, 244, 252-4, 257, 258. Harley, Bishop of Hereford, 67. Harper, Sir George, 93, 95, 105, 107. Harpsfeld, 69, 163, 212, 234, 309. Harrington, Sir John, 263. Hastings, Sir Ed., 11, 34, 83, 97, 114, 116, 123, 160, 162, 267. Hastings, Lord, 163. Hawkes, 201. Heath, Bishop, 32, 43, 47. Heneage, 266. Henry of France, 24, 25, 86, 121, 138, 144, 275-7, 312, 313. Heresy Bill, 134. Heresy, Commission on, 280, 281. Higbed, Thos., 201. Hoby, Sir Philip, 24, 83. Holgate, Archbishop, 47. Holinshed quoted, 8, 9, 22, 98, 108, 124, 128-31, 216, 242. Holyman, Bishop of Bristol, 224. Hooper, Bishop, 47, 134, 190-6. Hormolden, Edgar, 120. Horn, Count, 115, 139. Horsey, Ned, 262, 263. Hot Gospeller, see Underhill. Howard, Lord Wm., 25, 85, 95, 99, 104, 108, 114, 116, 129, 136, 140, 155, 178, 198, 199, 215, 269, 271, 287. Hunter, 201-3. Huntingdon, Earl of, 100-2, 110, 136, 163.

Inglefield, 116. Irish, Mr., 231. Isly, Sir Henry, 92, 110. Italy, Philip's invasion of, 290.

Jenkins quoted, 224, 250, 252, 253. Jerningham, Sir Henry, 15, 93, 116, 267. Joanna of Castile, 215. Julius III., Pope, 53-5, 81, 148, 175, 206.

Karne, Sir Ed., 287, 288. Keninghal, 3. Killegrew, Henry, 272, 273. Kingston, Sir Anthony, 193, 194, 260-2, 266. Kingston, Wyatt at, 105. Knight, 201. Knox, John, 16. Knyvet, Anthony, 93, 105-9.

Lalaing, Count de, 83, 85. Lansdowne MSS., 21. Latimer, Bishop, 48, 110, 118, 134, 161, 224-34. Lawrence, 201. Lee, Sir Henry, 233. Leicester, rising at, 100. Lennox, Lady, 76, 77. Lingard, Dr., 223. Loans, raising of, 308. Lodge quoted, 239, 267. Lollard statutes, 178. London Bridge, closing of, 99, 104. Longueville, Duke de, 291. Lords Journals quoted, 132, 135, 240. Lorraine, Cardinal of, 208, 236. Low Countries, campaign in, 144, 207.

Machyn, 1, 12, 28, 30, 32, 33, 85, 137, 208, 209, 219, 270, 277. Markham, Wm., 107. Marsh, George, 206. Martin, Dr., 224. Martyn, Peter, 46, 47, 231, 281. Mary, Chronicles of Queen, 100, 109, 111-13, 127, 130, 153. Mary, Queen of Scots, 79, 122. Mason, Sir John, 13, 19, 35, 145, 161, 176, 295. Mendoza, Diego de, 65, 139. Merchant adventurers, loan of the, 308. Mewtas, Sir Peter, 260. Michele, Giovanni, 98, 241, 306. Mildmay, Sir Walter, 308. Mohun's Ottery, 88-90. Money, shortage of, 239. Mordaunt, Lord, 11. Moreman, Dr., 70. Montague, Judge, 28, 46. Montague, Lord, 163, 165, 178, 236. Montmorency, 86, 208, 210, 269, 291. Montpensier, Duke de, 291. Morgan, Bishop, 206. Morone, Cardinal, 148, 149, 151. Mortmain, Statute of, 176; suspended, 184. Mountain, Thos., 62.

Namur attacked, 144, 145. Navas, Marquis delas, 138. Newhall, 27. Newnham Bridge, 299. Nichols, John Gough, 6. de Nigry, 83, 85. Noailles referred to, 7, 12, 19, 25, 30, 36, 46, 57-9, 60-2, 67, 74, 77-80, 86, 87, 90, 92, 98, 99, 103, 114, 121, 122, 125, 129, 130, 135, 137, 138, 140, 141, 153, 154, 166, 180, 187, 192, 206, 209, 210, 214, 218, 219, 220, 222, 236, 237, 239, 241, 242, 244, 264, 265, 269, 271, 272, 285. Norfolk, Duke of, 28, 30, 39, 93. North, Lord, 178, 214. Northampton, Marquis of, 23, 28, 31-42, 87, 127. Northumberland, Duke of, 3, 11-22, 28, 31, 39-42, 43, 44. Norton, Anthony, 90, 91. Nowel, Alexander, 67.

Oatlands, Mary at, 219. Oldcastle, Sir John, 96. Oliver, Dr., 228. Ormaneto, 150, 281, 289. Ormond, Lord, 23, 93. Oxford, Earl of, 18, 177, 264. Oxford, Annals of University of, 282. d'Oysel, 86, 87.

Paget, Lord, 15, 21, 28, 68, 71, 73, 76, 79, 80, 93, 103, 116, 118, 123-7, 132-5, 139, 160, 162, 197, 208, 269. Paleano, seizure of, 275. Pallavicino, quoted, 53, 175. Palmer, Sir Henry, 13, 296, 297, 304. Palmer, Sir Thomas, 13, 40-2, 45, 46. Parker, Archbishop, 319. Parsons, 41. Paul IV., 210, 236, 239, 275, 287-9, 292. Peckham, Sir Edmund, 11. Peckham, Sir Henry, 260-4, 266-8. Pelham, 105. Pembroke, Earl of, 14, 16, 18-20, 36, 37, 98, 106-8, 116, 135, 154, 208, 277, 287. Perrot, Sir John, 262. Peto, Wm., 80, 289, 292. Petre, Sir Wm., 6, 33, 92, 94, 114, 116, 270, 308. Pexall, Sir Richard, 310. Philibert of Savoy, 144, 145, 155, 162, 213, 290. Philip of Spain, 38, 71-4, 137-42, 153, 165, 171, 185, 197, 198, 217-24, 268, 269, 303, 312-14. Phillips, Dean of Rochester, 70. Phillips, 223. Philpot, Bishop, 70, 134, 234. Pigot, 201. Plots against Mary, 263-8. Pole, Reginald, 51-4, 65-8, 80, 81, 147-52, 158, 159, 162-70, 178, 188-90, 206-8, 210, 212, 219-22, 231, 234, 278-80, 284, 287-90, 292, 309, 316. Pollard, Sir Hugh, 262. Pomfret, 136. Ponet, Bishop, 32, 47, 105, 107, 118, 134, 165, 215. Potter, Gilbert, 7, 10, 24. Premunire, Act of, 184, 187. Prideaux, John, 90. Property of Church, 176, 178, 179. Protestants, set-back to, 69, 70; hanging of, 84.

Radcliff, Sir Humfrey, 105. Rampton, Thos., 100. Regency Bill, 185, 186. Register introduced, 189. Religious houses rebuilt, 243. Religious Persecution Bills, 132. Renard quoted, 2, 7, 8, 10, 12, 17-21, 24-6, 28-32, 36-40, 46, 47, 49, 51, 55, 57-64, 68-84, 91, 93-7, 102, 103, 106, 108-19, 122-37, 139, 147, 153-9, 162, 176, 178, 185, 186, 197-200, 214, 223. Renty, attack on, 145. Repeal, Act of, 179. Rich, Lord, 18, 177. Richmond, Mary at, 137. Ridley, Bishop, 16, 23, 28, 32, 46, 47, 68, 110, 118, 134, 190, 191, 224-34. Rochester, Sir Robert, 71, 116, 135, 192, 267. Rochester, rising at, 93. Rogers, Canon, 190-2. Rolls House MSS., 6, 10-12, 15, 17, 20, 21, 26, 28, 30, 37, 39, 40, 46, 47, 49, 51, 57-61, 64, 67-9, 70-4, 78-80, 83-4, 86, 91, 93, 94, 97, 102, 103, 106, 108, 110, 114-19, 123, 127, 128, 133, 135. Rome, supplication to, 172. Rosey, 266-8. Russell, Lord, 37, 122, 178. Rutland, Earl of, 300, 301. Rymer quoted, 82. Rysbank, 298-300.

St. Andre, Marshal, 291. St. Leger, Sir Anthony, 63. St. Lowe, Sir Wm., 114. St. Mary Overy, Church of, 190. St. Quentin, battle of, 290, 291. Salkyns quoted, 165. Sandars, Laurence, 134, 191, 195. Sanders, Ninian, 7. Sandgate, 299. Sandys, Edwin, 16, 21, 22, 28. Scarborough, occupation of, 286, 287. Scheyfne, 2, 6, 15. Schoolboys, fight between, 122. Scory, Bishop, 32, 47. Scot, Bishop, 281. Senarpont, 276, 297, 312. Shrewsbury, Earl of, 19, 71, 116, 136, 140, 141, 154, 164, 239, 309. Sidney, Sir Henry, 23. Simson, Cuthbert, 309. Six Articles, the, 318. Skelton, Sir John, 11. Sloane MSS., 286. Smith, Benet, 242. Smith, Sir Thos., 287, 309, 310. Somerset, Duchess of, 30. Soto, P., 231, 232. Southwell, Sir R., 90-6, 104, 116. Stafford, Sir Thos., 286, 287. Stanley, Sir George, 62. Stanton, Captain, 268. Story, Dr., 224. Stourton, Lord, 178. Stow quoted, 130. Strangways, 264, 265. Strozzi, Pietro, 144. Strype quoted, 36, 48, 49, 63, 94, 137, 208, 221, 222, 243, 280, 286-90, 309-11. Subsidy Bill, 239, 240. Succession, question of the, 68, 132, 182, 185, 186, 199, 200, 214, 218. Suffolk, Duchess of, 76, 77, 102. Suffolk, Duke of, 19, 20, 31, 87, 92-100, 110, 114, 157. Sussex, Earl of, 11, 71, 116, 123-7, 136. Swift, Robert, 267, 268.

Talbot, Lord, 239. Tanner MSS., 21, 62, 107, 238, 241. Tate, Richard, 164. Taylor, Bishop, 67, 134. Taylor, Rowland, 191, 195. de Thermes, 311, 312. Thirlby, Bishop, 69, 245, 246, 280, 313, 314. Thomas, Wm., 105, 114. Thornton, Bishop, 212. Throgmorton, Sir Nicholas, 87, 88, 114, 131, 132, 266. Throgmortons, the, 264. Toledo, Antonio de, 139. Tomkins, 197, 201. Treason, Act of, 69. Tregonwell, Dr., 67. Tremayne, Edmund, 129. Tremaynes of Colacombe, the, 262, 264. Tucker, Lazarus, 84. Tunstal, Cuthbert, 32, 47, 92, 190. Tytler quoted, 80, 116, 131, 136, 160, 162, 316.

Underhill, Ed., 33, 61, 105, 320. Uvedale, 264-7.

Valles, Marquis de los, 139. Vannes, Peter, 273, 274. Vaughan, Cuthbert, 131. Villegaignon, Admiral, 87.

Waldegrave, Sir Ed., 71, 83, 116, 267, 268, 308. Walpole, 267. Warne, 213. Warner, Sir Edmund, 87, 90. Warwick, Earl of, 39-43. Watson, Bishop, 281. Watson, Dr., 41, 46, 70. Wentworth, Lord, 116, 162, 178, 296-300. Westmoreland, Lord, 154, 177, 264, 287. Weston, Dr., 36, 70, 103, 130, 134, 176. Wharton, Lord, 11. White, Bishop, 224. White, Rawlins, 206. White, Thomas, 266, 267. Wight, Isle of, 122, 264. Wilkins quoted, 177, 315. Wilkinson, Mrs., 229. Williams, Lord, of Thame, 15, 119, 178, 232, 233, 252, 258, 259, 261. Willoughby, Lord, 264. Winchester, Bishop of, see Ponet. Winchester, Marquis of, 9, 16, 116, 124, 136, 178. Windsor, Lord, 83. Woodhouse, Sir Wm., 302, 303. Woodstock, Elizabeth at, 136, 137, 155, 215. Worcester, Dean of, 316. Worcester, Lord, 107, 178. "Worthies, the nine," 153. Wotton, Dr., 80, 86, 121, 140, 144, 147, 260, 267, 271-6, 285, 286, 313, 314. Wyatt, Sir Thos., 23, 87-114, 122, 123, 130, 131, 189.

Young, 70.

THE END