Vol 1 con't

Northumberland, finding that his arguments were likely to operate on the king, began to prepare the other parts of his scheme. Two sons of the duke of Suffolk by a second venter having died this season of the sweating sickness, that title was extinct; and Northumberland engaged the king to bestow it on the marquis of Dorset. By means of this favor, and of others which he conferred upon him, he persuaded the new duke of Suffolk and the duchess, to give their daughter, the lady Jane, in marriage to his fourth son, the Lord Guildford Dudley. In order to fortify himself by further alliances, he negotiated a marriage between the lady Catharine Gray, second daughter of Suffolk, and Lord Herbert, eldest son of the earl of Pembroke. He also married his own daughter to Lord Hastings, eldest son of the earl of Huntingdon.[*] These marriages were solemnized with great pomp and festivity; and the people, who hated Northumberland, could not forbear expressing their indignation at seeing such public demonstrations of joy during the languishing state of the young prince's health.
     * Heylin, p. 199. Stowe, p. 609.
Edward had been seized in the foregoing year, first with the measles, then with the small-pox; but having perfectly recovered from both these distempers, the nation entertained hopes that they would only serve to confirm his health; and he had afterwards made a progress through some parts of the kingdom. It was suspected that he had there overheated himself in exercise; he was seized with a cough, which proved obstinate, and gave way neither to regimen nor medicines: several fatal symptoms of consumption appeared; and though it was hoped that, as the season advanced, his youth and temperance might get the better of the malady, men saw with great concern his bloom and vigor insensibly decay. The general attachment to the young prince, joined to the hatred borne the Dudleys, made it be remarked, that Edward had every moment declined in health, from the time that Lord Robert Dudley had been put about him in quality of gentleman of the bedchamber.
The languishing state of Edward's health made Northumberland the more intent on the execution of his project. He removed all, except his own emissaries, from about the king; he himself attended him with the greatest assiduity: he pretended the most anxious concern for his health and welfare; and by all these artifices he prevailed on the young prince to give his final consent to the settlement projected. Sir Edward Montague, chief justice of the common pleas, Sir John Baker and Sir Thomas Bromley, two judges, with the attorney and solicitor-general, were summoned to the council, where, after the minutes of the intended deed were read to them, the king required them to draw them up in the form of letters patent. They hesitated to obey, and desired time to consider of it. The more they reflected the greater danger they found in compliance. The settlement of the crown by Henry VIII. had been made in consequence of an act of parliament; and by another act, passed in the beginning of this reign, it was declared treason in any of the heirs, their aiders or abettors, to attempt on the right of another, or change the order of succession. The judges pleaded these reasons before the council. They urged, that such a patent as was intended would be entirely invalid; that it would subject, not only the judges who drew it, but every counsellor who signed it, to the pains of treason; and that the only proper expedient, both for giving sanction to the new settlement, and freeing its partisans from danger, was to summon a parliament, and to obtain the consent of that assembly. The king said, that he intended afterwards to follow that method, and would call a parliament in which he purposed to have his settlement ratified; but in the mean time he required the judges, on their allegiance, to draw the patent in the form required. The council told the judges, that their refusal would subject all of them to the pains of treason. Northumberland gave to Montague the appellation of traitor; and said that he would in his shirt fight any man in so just a cause as that of Lady Jane's succession. The judges were reduced to great difficulties between the dangers from the law, and those which arose from the violence of present power and authority.[*]
     * Fuller, book viii. p. 2.
The arguments were canvassed in several different meetings between the council and the judges, and no solution could be found of the difficulties. At last, Montague proposed an expedient, which satisfied both his brethren and the counsellors. He desired that a special commission should be passed by the king and council, requiring the judges to draw a patent for the new settlement of the crown; and that a pardon should immediately after be granted them for any offence which they might have incurred by their compliance. When the patent was drawn, and brought to the bishop of Ely, Chancellor, in order to have the great seal affixed to it, this prelate required that all the judges should previously sign it. Gosnald at first refused; and it was with much difficulty that he was prevailed on, by the violent menaces of Northumberland to comply; but the constancy of Sir James Hales, who, though a zealous Protestant, preferred justice on this occasion to the prejudices of his party, could not be shaken by any expedient. The chancellor next required, for his greater security, that all the privy counsellors should set their hands to the patent: the intrigues of Northumberland, or the fears of his violence, were so prevalent that the counsellors complied with this demand. Cranmer alone hesitated during some time, but at last yielded to the earnest and pathetic entreaties of the king.[*] Cecil, at that time secretary of state, pretended afterwards that he only signed as witness to the king's subscription. And thus, by the king's letters patent, the two princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, were set aside; and the crown was settled on the heirs of the duchess of Suffolk; for the duchess herself was content to give place to her daughters.
     * Cranm. Mem. p. 295
After this settlement was made, with so many inauspicious circumstances, Edward visibly declined every day, and small hopes were entertained of his recovery. To make matters worse, his physicians were dismissed by Northumberland's advice, and by an order of council; and he was put into the hands of an ignorant woman, who undertook in a little time to restore him to his former state of health. After the use of her medicines, all the bad symptoms increased to the most violent degree: he felt a difficulty of speech and breathing; his pulse failed, his legs swelled, his color became livid, and many other symptoms appeared of his approaching end. He expired at Greenwich, in the sixteenth year of his age, and the seventh of his reign.
All the English historians dwell with pleasure on the excellent qualities of this young prince; whom the flattering promises of hope, joined to many real virtues, had made an object of tender affection to the public. He possessed mildness of disposition, application to study and business, a capacity to learn and judge, and an attachment to equity and justice. He seems only to have contracted, from his education, and from the genius of the age in which he lived, too much of a narrow prepossession in matters of religion, which made him incline somewhat to bigotry and persecution: but as the bigotry of Protestants, less governed by priests, lies under more restraints than that of Catholics, the effects of this malignant quality were the less to be apprehended if a longer life had been granted to young Edward.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

MARY.

1553.
The title of the princess Mary, after the demise of her brother, was not exposed to any considerable difficulty; and the objections started by the lady Jane's partisans were new and unheard of by the nation. Though all the Protestants, and even many of the Catholics, believed the marriage of Henry VIII. with Catharine of Arragon to be unlawful and invalid; yet, as it had been contracted by the parties without any criminal intention, had been avowed by their parents, recognized by the nation, and seemingly founded on those principles of law and religion which then prevailed, few imagined that their issue ought on that account to be regarded as illegitimate. A declaration to that purpose had indeed been extorted from parliament by the usual violence and caprice of Henry; but as that monarch had afterwards been induced to restore his daughter to the right of succession, her title was now become as legal and parliamentary as it was ever esteemed just and natural. The public had long been familiarized to these sentiments: during all the reign of Edward, the princess was regarded as his lawful successor; and though the Protestants dreaded the effects of her prejudices, the extreme hatred universally entertained against the Dudleys,[*] who, men foresaw, would, under the name of Jane, be the real sovereigns, was more than sufficient to counterbalance, even with that party, the attachment to religion.
     * Sleidan, lib. xxv.
This last attempt to violate the order of succession had displayed Northumberland's ambition and injustice in a full light; and when the people reflected on the long train of fraud, iniquity, and cruelty, by which that project had been conducted; that the lives of the two Seymours, as well as the title of the princesses, had been sacrificed to it; they were moved by indignation to exert themselves in opposition to such criminal enterprises. The general veneration also paid to the memory of Henry VIII. prompted the nation to defend the rights of his posterity; and the miseries of the ancient civil wars were not so entirely forgotten, that men were willing, by a departure from the lawful heir, to incur the danger of like bloodshed and confusion.
Northumberland, sensible of the opposition which he must expect, had carefully concealed the destination made by the king; and in order to bring the two princesses into his power, he had had the precaution to engage the council, before Edward's death, to write to them in that prince's name, desiring their attendance, on pretence that his infirm state of health required the assistance of their counsel and the consolation of their company.[*] Edward expired before their arrival; but Northumberland, in order to make the princesses fall into the snare, kept the king's death still secret; and the lady Mary had already reached Hoddesden, within half a day's journey of the court. Happily, the earl of Arundel sent her private intelligence, both of her brother's death, and of the conspiracy formed against her;[**] she immediately made haste to retire; and she arrived, by quick journeys, first at Kenning Hall in Norfolk, then at Framlingham in Suffolk; where she purposed to embark and escape to Flanders, in case she should find it impossible to defend her right of succession. She wrote letters to the nobility and most considerable gentry in every county in England; commanding them to assist her in the defence of her crown and person. And she despatched a message to the council; by which she notified to them, that her brother's death was no longer a secret to her, promised them pardon for past offences, and required them immediately to give orders for proclaiming her in London.[***]
     * Heylin, p. 154.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 233.

     *** Fox, vol. iii, p. 14.
Northumberland found that further dissimulation was fruitless: he went to Sion House,[*] accompanied by the duke of Suffolk, the earl of Pembroke, and others of the nobility; and he approached the lady Jane, who resided there, with all the respect usually paid to the sovereign. Jane was in a great measure ignorant of these transactions; and it was with equal grief and surprise that she received intelligence of them.[**] She was a lady of an amiable person, an engaging disposition, accomplished parts; and being of an equal age with the late king, she had received all her education with him, and seemed even to possess greater facility in acquiring every part of manly and polite literature. She had attained a familiar knowledge of the Roman and Greek languages, besides modern tongues; had passed most of her time in an application to learning; and expressed a great indifference for other occupations and amusements usual with her sex and station. Roger Ascham, tutor to the lady Elizabeth, having one day paid her a visit, found her employed in reading Plato, while the rest of the family were engaged in a party of hunting in the park; and on his admiring the singularity of her choice, she told him, that she received more pleasure from that author than the others could reap from all their sport and gayety.[***] Her heart, full of this passion for literature and the elegant arts, and of tenderness towards her husband, who was deserving of her affections, had never opened itself to the flattering allurements of ambition; and the intelligence of her elevation to the throne was nowise agreeable to her. She even refused to accept of the present; pleaded the preferable title of the two princesses; expressed her dread of the consequences attending an enterprise so dangerous, not to say so criminal; and desired to remain in the private station in which she was born.
     * Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. 10.

     ** Godwin in Kennet, p. 329. Heylin, p. 149. Burnet, vol.
     ii. p. 234.

     *** Ascham's Works, p. 222, 223.
Overcome at last by the entreaties, rather than the reasons, of her father and father-in-law, and above all of her husband, she submitted to their will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her own judgment. It was then usual for the kings of England, after their accession, to pass the first days in the Tower; and Northumberland immediately conveyed thither the new sovereign. All the counsellors were obliged to attend her to that fortress; and by this means became, in reality, prisoners in the hands of Northumberland, whose will they were necessitated to obey. Orders were given by the council to proclaim Jane throughout the kingdom; but these orders were executed only in London and the neighborhood. No applause ensued: the people heard the proclamation with silence and concern: some even expressed their scorn and contempt; and one Pot, a vintner's apprentice, was severely punished for this offence. The Protestant teachers themselves, who were employed to convince the people of Jane's title, found their eloquence fruitless; and Ridley, bishop of London, who preached a sermon to that purpose, wrought no effect upon his audience.
The people of Suffolk, meanwhile, paid their attendance on Mary. As they were much attached to the reformed communion, they could not forbear, amidst their tenders of duty, expressing apprehensions for their religion; but when she assured them that she never meant to change the laws of Edward, they enlisted themselves in her cause with zeal and affection. The nobility and gentry daily flocked to her, and brought her reënforcement. The earls of Bath and Sussex, the eldest sons of Lord Wharton and Lord Mordaunt, Sir William Drury, Sir Henry Benningfield, Sir Henry Jernegan, persons whose interest lay in the neighborhood, appeared at the head of their tenants and retainers.[*] Sir Edward Hastings, brother to the earl of Huntingdon, having received a commission from the council to make levies for the lady Jane in Buckinghamshire, carried over his troops, which amounted to four thousand men, and joined Mary. Even a fleet which had been sent by Northumberland to lie off the coast of Suffolk, being forced into Yarmouth by a storm, was engaged to declare for that princess.
Northumberland, hitherto blinded by ambition, saw at last the danger gather round him, and knew not to what hand to turn himself. He had levied forces, which were assembled at London; but dreading the cabals of the courtiers and counsellors, whose compliance, he knew, had been entirely the result of fear or artifice, he was resolved to keep near the person of the lady Jane, and send Suffolk to command the army. But the counsellors, who wished to remove him,[**] working on the filial tenderness of Jane, magnified to her the danger to which her father would be exposed; and represented that Northumberland, who had gained reputation by formerly suppressing a rebellion in those parts, was more proper to command in that enterprise.
     * Heylin, p. 160. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 237.

     ** Godwin, p. 330. Heylin, p. 159. Burnet vol. ii. p. 239.
     Fox, vol. iii. p 15.
The duke himself, who knew the slender capacity of Suffolk, began to think that none but himself was able to encounter the present danger; and he agreed to take on him the command of the troops. The counsellors attended on him at his departure with the highest protestations of attachment, and none more than Arundel, his mortal enemy.[*] As he went along, he remarked the disaffection of the people, which foreboded a fatal issue to his ambitious hopes. "Many," said he to Lord Gray, "come out to look at us, but I find not one who cries, God speed you!"[**]
The duke had no sooner reached St. Edmondsbury, than he found his army, which did not exceed six thousand men, too weak to encounter the queen's,[***] which amounted to double the number. He wrote to the council, desiring them to send him a reënforcement; and the counsellors immediately laid hold of the opportunity to free themselves from confinement. They left the Tower, as if they meant to execute Northumberland's commands; but being assembled in Baynard's castle, a house belonging to Pembroke, they deliberated concerning the method of shaking off his usurped tyranny. Arundel began the conference, by representing the injustice and cruelty of Northumberland, the exorbitancy of his ambition, the criminal enterprise which he had projected, and the guilt in which he had involved the whole council; and he affirmed, that the only method of making atonement for their past offences, was by a speedy return to the duty which they owed to their lawful sovereign.[****] This motion was seconded by Pembroke, who, clapping his hand to his sword, swore he was ready to fight any man that expressed himself of a contrary sentiment. The mayor and aldermen of London were immediately sent for, who discovered great alacrity in obeying the orders they received to proclaim Mary. The people expressed their approbation by shouts of applause. Even Suffolk, who commanded in the Tower, finding resistance fruitless, opened the gates, and declared for the queen. The lady Jane, after the vain pageantry of wearing a crown during ten days, returned to a private life with more satisfaction than she felt when the royalty was tendered to her:[v] and the messengers who were sent to Northumberland with orders to lay down his arms, found that he had despaired of success, was deserted by all his followers, and had already proclaimed the queen, with exterior marks of joy and satisfaction.[v*] The people every where, on the queen's approach to London, gave sensible expressions of their loyalty and attachment; and the lady Elizabeth met her at the head of a thousand horse, which that princess had levied in order to support their joint title against the usurper.[v**]
     * Heylin, p. 161. Baker, p. 315. Holingshed, p. 1086.

     ** Speed, p. 816.

     *** Godwin, p. 331.

     **** Godwin, p. 331, 332. Thuanus, lib. xiii.

     v    Godwin, p. 332. Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. 2

     v*   Stowe, p. 612.

     v**  Burnet, vol. ii. p. 240. Heylin, p. 19. Stowe, p. 613.
The queen gave orders for taking into custody the duke of Northumberland, who fell on his knees to the earl of Arundel, that arrested him, and abjectly begged his life.[*] At the same time were committed the earl of Warwick, his eldest son, Lord Ambrose and Lord Henry Dudley, two of his younger sons, Sir Andrew Dudley, his brother, the marquis of Northampton, the earl of Huntingdon, Sir Thomas Palmer, and Sir John Gates. The queen afterwards confined the duke of Suffolk, Lady Jane Gray, and Lord Guildford Dudley. But Mary was desirous, in the beginning of her reign, to acquire popularity by the appearance of clemency; and because the counsellors pleaded constraint as an excuse for their treason, she extended her pardon to most of them. Suffolk himself recovered his liberty; and he owed this indulgence, in a great measure, to the contempt entertained of his capacity. But the guilt of Northumberland was too great, as well as his ambition and courage too dangerous, to permit him to entertain any reasonable hopes of life. When brought to his trial, he only desired permission to ask two questions of the peers appointed to sit on his jury; whether a man could be guilty of treason that obeyed orders given him by the council under the great seal; and whether those who were involved in the same guilt with himself could sit as his judges. Being told that the great seal of a usurper was no authority, and that persons not lying under any sentence of attainder were still innocent in the eye of the law, and might be admitted on any jury,[**] he acquiesced, and pleaded guilty. At his execution, he made profession of the Catholic religion, and told the people that they never would enjoy tranquillity till they returned to the faith of their ancestors: whether that such were his real sentiments, which he had formerly disguised from interest and ambition, or that he hoped by this declaration to render the queen more favorable to his family.[***] Sir Thomas Palmer and Sir John Gates suffered with him; and this was all the blood spilled on account of so dangerous and criminal an enterprise against the rights of the sovereign. Sentence was pronounced against the lady Jane and Lord Guildford, but without any present intention of putting it in execution. The youth and innocence of the persons, neither of whom had reached their seventeenth year, pleaded sufficiently in their favor.
     * Burnet, vol. ii. p. 239. Stowe, p. 612. Baker, p. 315.
     Holingshed, p. 1088.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 243. Heylin, p. 18. Baker, p. 316.
     Holingshed, p. 1089.

     *** Heylin, p. 19. Burnet. vol. iii. p. 243. Stowe, p. 614.
When Mary first arrived in the Tower, the duke of Norfolk, who had been detained prisoner during all the last reign, Courtney, son of the marquis of Exeter, who, without being charged with any crime, had been subjected to the same punishment ever since his father's attainder; Gardiner, Tonstal, and Bonner, who had been confined for their adhering to the Catholic cause, appeared before her, and implored her clemency and protection.[*] They were all of them restored to their liberty, and immediately admitted to her confidence and favor. Norfolk's attainder, notwithstanding that it had passed in parliament, was represented as null and invalid; because, among other informalities, no special matter had been alleged against him, except wearing a coat of arms which he and his ancestors, without giving any offence, had always made use of, in the face of the court and of the whole nation. Courtney soon after received the title of earl of Devonshire; and though educated in such close confinement that he was altogether unacquainted with the world, he soon acquired all the accomplishments of a courtier and a gentleman, and made a considerable figure during the few years which he lived after he recovered his liberty.[**] Besides performing all those popular acts, which, though they only affected individuals, were very acceptable to the nation, the queen endeavored to ingratiate herself with the public by granting a general pardon, though with some exceptions, and by remitting the subsidy voted to her brother by the last parliament.[***]
     * Heylin, p. 20. Stowe, p. 613. Holingshed, p. 1088.

     ** Dépêches de Noailles, vol ii. p 246, 247.

     *** Stowe, p. 616.
The joy arising from the succession of the lawful heir, and from the gracious demeanor of the sovereign, hindered not the people from being agitated with great anxiety concerning the state of religion; and as the bulk of the nation inclined to the Protestant communion, the apprehensions entertained concerning the principles and prejudices of the new queen were pretty general. The legitimacy of Mary's birth had appeared to be somewhat connected with the papal authority; and that princess being educated with her mother, had imbibed the strongest attachment to the Catholic communion, and the highest aversion to those new tenets, whence, she believed, all the misfortunes of her family had originally sprung. The discouragements which she lay under from her father, though at last they brought her to comply with his will, tended still more to increase her disgust to the reformers; and the vexations which the protector and the council gave her during Edward's reign, had no other effect than to confirm her further in her prejudices. Naturally of a sour and obstinate temper, and irritated by contradiction and misfortunes, she possessed all the qualities fitted to compose a bigot; and her extreme ignorance rendered her utterly incapable of doubt in her own belief, or of indulgence to the opinions of others. The nation, therefore, had great reason to dread, not only the abolition, but the persecution of the established religion from the zeal of Mary; and it was not long ere she discovered her intentions.
Gardiner, Bonner, Tonstal, Day, Heath, and Vesey, were reinstated in their sees, either by a direct act of power, or, what is nearly the same, by the sentence of commissioners appointed to review their trial and condemnation. Though the bishopric of Durham had been dissolved by authority of parliament, the queen erected it anew by letters patent, and replaced Tonstal in his regalities as well as in his revenue. On pretence of discouraging controversy, she silenced, by an act of prerogative, all the preachers throughout England, except such as should obtain a particular license; and it was easy to foresee, that none but Catholics would be favored with this privilege. Holgate, archbishop of York, Coverdale, bishop of Exeter, Ridley of London, and Hooper of Glocester, were thrown into prison; whither old Latimer also was sent soon after. The zealous bishops and priests were encouraged in their forwardness to revive the mass, though contrary to the present laws. Judge Hales, who had discovered such constancy in defending the queen's title, lost all his merit by an opposition to those illegal practices; and being committed to custody, was treated with such severity, that he fell into frenzy, and killed himself. The men of Suffolk were browbeaten because they presumed to plead the promise which the queen, when they enlisted themselves in her service, had given them of maintaining the reformed religion: one in particular was set in the pillory, because he had been too peremptory in recalling to her memory the engagements which she had taken on that occasion. And though the queen still promised in a public declaration before the council, to tolerate those who differed from her; men foresaw that this engagement, like the former, would prove but a feeble security when set in opposition to religious prejudices.
The merits of Cranmer towards the queen during the reign of Henry had been considerable; and he had successfully employed his good offices in mitigating the severe prejudices which that monarch had entertained against her. But the active part which he had borne in promoting her mother's divorce, as well as in conducting the reformation, had made him the object of her hatred; and though Gardiner had been equally forward in soliciting and defending the divorce, he had afterwards made sufficient atonement, by his sufferings in defence of the Catholic cause. The primate, therefore, had reason to expect little favor during the present reign; but it was by his own indiscreet zeal, that he brought on himself the first violence and persecution. A report being spread that Cranmer, in order to pay court to the queen, had promised to officiate in the Latin service, the archbishop, to wipe off this aspersion, published a manifesto in his own defence. Among other expressions, he there said, that as the devil was a liar from the beginning, and the father of lies, he had at this time stirred up his servants to persecute Christ and his true religion: that this infernal spirit now endeavored to restore the Latin satisfactory masses, a thing of his own invention and device; and in order to effect his purpose, had falsely made use of Cranmer's name and authority: and that the mass is not only without foundation, either in the Scriptures or in the practice of the primitive church, but likewise discovers a plain contradiction to antiquity and the inspired writings, and is besides replete with many horrid blasphemies.[*]
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 94. Heylin, p. 25. Godwin, p. 336.
     Burnet Vol. ii. Coll. No. 8. Cranm. Mem. p. 305. Thuanus,
     lib xiii. c. 8.
On the publication of this inflammatory paper Cranmer was thrown into prison, and was tried for the part which he had acted in concurring with the lady Jane, and opposing the queen's accession. Sentence of high treason was pronounced against him, and though his guilt was shared with the whole privy council and was even less than that of the greater part of them, this sentence, however severe, must be allowed entirely legal. The execution of it, however, did not follow; and Cranmer was reserved for a more cruel punishment.
Peter Martyr, seeing a persecution gathering against the reformers desired leave to withdraw;[*] and while some zealous Catholics moved for his commitment, Gardiner both pleaded that he had come over by an invitation from the government, and generously furnished him with supplies for his journey: but as bigoted zeal still increased, his wife's body, which had been interred at Oxford, was afterwards dug up by public orders, and buried in a dunghill.[**] The bones of Bucer and Fagius, two foreign reformers, were about the same time committed to the flames at Cambridge.[***] John Alasco was first silenced, then ordered to depart the kingdom with his congregation. The greater part of the foreign Protestants followed him; and the nation thereby lost many useful hands for arts and manufactures. Several English Protestants also took shelter in foreign parts; and every thing bore a dismal aspect for the reformation.
During this revolution of the court, no protection was expected by Protestants from the Parliament which was summoned to assemble. A zealous reformer[****] pretends, that great violence and iniquity were used in the elections; but, besides that the authority of this writer is inconsiderable, that practice, as the necessities of government seldom required it, had not hitherto been often employed in England. There still remained such numbers devoted by opinion or affection to many principles of the ancient religion, that the authority of the crown was able to give such candidates the preference in most elections; and all those who hesitated to comply with the court religion, rather declined taking a seat, which, while it rendered them obnoxious to the queen, could afterwards afford them no protection against the violence of prerogative. It soon appeared, therefore, that a majority of the commons would be obsequious to Mary's designs; and as the peers were mostly attached to the court from interest or expectations, little opposition was expected from that quarter.
     * Heylin, p. 26. Godwin, p. 336. Cranm. Mem. p. 317.

     ** Heylin, p. 26.

     *** Saunders de Schism. Anglie.

     **** Beale. But Fox, who lived at the time, and is very
     minute in his narratives, says nothing of the matter. See
     vol. iii. p. 16.
In opening the parliament, the court showed a contempt of the laws, by celebrating, before the two houses, a mass of the Holy Ghost in the Latin tongue, attended with all the ancient rites and ceremonies, though abolished by act of parliament.[*] Taylor, bishop of Lincoln, having refused to kneel at this service, was severely handled, and was violently thrust out of the house.[**] The queen, however, still retained the title of supreme head of the church of England; and it was generally pretended, that the intention of the court was only to restore religion to the same condition in which it had been left by Henry; but that the other abuses of popery, which were the most grievous to the nation, would never be revived.
The first bill passed by the parliament was of a popular nature, and abolished every species of treason not contained in the statute of Edward III., and every species of felony that did not subsist before the first of Henry VIII.[***] The parliament next declared the queen to be legitimate, ratified the marriage of Henry with Catharine of Arragon, and annulled the divorce pronounced by Cranmer,[****] whom they greatly blamed on that account. No mention, however, is made of the pope's authority, as any ground of the marriage. All the statutes of King Edward with regard to religion were repealed by one vote.[v] The attainder of the duke of Norfolk was reversed; and this act of justice was more reasonable than the declaring of that attainder invalid without further authority. Many clauses of the riot act, passed in the late reign, were revived: a step which eluded in a great measure the popular statute enacted at the first meeting of parliament.
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 19.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 252.

     *** Mariæ, sess. i. cap. 1. By this repeal, though it was in
     general popular, the clause of 5 and 6 Edward VI. cap. 11,
     was lost, which required the confronting of two witnesses in
     order to prove any treason.

     **** Mariæ, sess. ii. cap. 1.

     v    Mariæ, sess. ii. cap. 1.
Notwithstanding the compliance of the two houses with the queen's inclinations, they had still a reserve in certain articles; and her choice of a husband, in particular, was of such importance to national interest, that they were determined not to submit tamely, in that respect, to her will and pleasure. There were three marriages[*] concerning which it was supposed that Mary had deliberated after her accession. The first person proposed to her was Courtney, earl of Devonshire, who, being an Englishman nearly allied to the crown, could not fail of being acceptable to the nation; and as he was of an engaging person and address, he had visibly gained on the queen's affections,[**] and hints were dropped him of her favorable dispositions towards him.[***] But that nobleman neglected these overtures; and seemed rather to attach himself to the lady Elizabeth, whose youth and agreeable conversation he preferred to all the power and grandeur of her sister. This choice occasioned a great coldness in Mary towards Devonshire; and made her break out in a declared animosity against Elizabeth. The ancient quarrel between their mothers had sunk deep into the malignant heart of the queen; and after the declaration made by parliament in favor of Catharine's marriage, she wanted not a pretence for representing the birth of her sister as illegitimate. The attachment of Elizabeth to the reformed religion offended Mary's bigotry; and as the young princess had made some difficulty in disguising her sentiments, violent menaces had been employed to bring her to compliance.[****] But when the queen found that Elizabeth had obstructed her views in a point which, perhaps, touched her still more nearly, her resentment, excited by pride, no longer knew any bounds, and the princess was visibly exposed to the greatest danger.[v]
Cardinal Pole, who had never taken priest's orders, was another party proposed to the queen; and there appeared many reasons to induce her to make choice of this prelate. The high character of Pole for virtue and humanity; the great regard paid him by the Catholic church, of which he had nearly reached the highest dignity on the death of Paul III.;[v*] the queen's affection for the countess of Salisbury, his mother, who had once been her governess; the violent animosity to which he had been exposed on account of his attachment to the Romish communion; all these considerations had a powerful influence on Mary. But the cardinal was now in the decline of life; and having contracted habits of study and retirement, he was represented to her as unqualified for the bustle of a court and the hurry of business.[v**]
     * Thuan. lib. ii. cap. 3.

     ** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 147, 163, 214, 215;
     vol. iii. p. 27.

     *** Godwin, p. 339.

     **** Dep. de Noailles, vol. ii. passim.

     v    Heylin, p. 31. Burnet, vol. ii. p, 255.

     v*   Father Paul, book iii.

     v**  Heylin, p. 31.
The queen, therefore, dropped all thoughts of that alliance: but as she entertained a great regard for Pole's wisdom and virtue, she still intended to reap the benefit of his counsel in the administration of her government. She secretly entered into a negotiation with Commendone, an agent of Cardinal Dandino, legate at Brussels; she sent assurances to the pope, then Julius III, of her earnest desire to reconcile herself and her kingdoms to the holy see; and she desired that Pole might be appointed legate for the performance of that pious office.[*]
These two marriages being rejected, the queen cast her eye towards the emperor's family, from which her mother was descended, and which, during her own distresses, had always afforded her countenance and protection. Charles V., who a few years before was almost absolute master of Germany, had exercised his power in such an arbitrary manner, that he gave extreme disgust to the nation, who apprehended the total extinction of their liberties from the encroachments of that monarch.[**] Religion had served him as a pretence for his usurpations; and from the same principle he met with that opposition which overthrew his grandeur, and dashed all his ambitious hopes. Maurice, elector of Saxony, enraged that the landgrave of Hesse, who, by his advice, and on his assurances, had put himself into the emperor's hands, should be unjustly detained a prisoner, formed a secret conspiracy among the Protestant princes; and, covering his intentions with the most artful disguises, he suddenly marched his forces against Charles, and narrowly missed becoming master of his person.
     * Burnet, vol ii. p. 258.

     ** Thuanus. lib. iv. c. 17.
The Protestants flew to arms in every quarter; and their insurrection, aided by an invasion from France, reduced the emperor to such difficulties, that he was obliged to submit to terms of peace which insured the independency of Germany. To retrieve his honor, he made an attack on France; and laying siege to Metz with an army of a hundred thousand men, he conducted the enterprise in person, and seemed determined, at all hazards, to succeed in an undertaking which had fixed the attention of Europe. But the duke of Guise, who defended Metz with a garrison composed of the bravest nobility of France, exerted such vigilance, conduct, and valor, that the siege was protracted to the depth of winter; and the emperor found it dangerous to persevere any longer. He retired with the remains of his army into the Low Countries, much dejected with that reverse of fortune which in his declining years, had so fatally overtaken him.
No sooner did Charles hear of the death of Edward, and the accession of his kinswoman Mary to the crown of England, than he formed the scheme of acquiring that kingdom to his family; and he hoped by this incident to balance all the losses which he had sustained in Germany. His son Philip was a widower; and though he was only twenty-seven years of age, eleven years younger than the queen, this objection, it was thought, would be overlooked, and there was no reason to despair of her still having a numerous issue. The emperor, therefore, immediately sent over an agent to signify his intentions to Mary; who, pleased with the support of so powerful an alliance, and glad to unite herself more closely with her mother's family, to which she was ever strongly attached, readily embraced the proposal. Norfolk, Arundel, and Paget, gave their advice for the match: and Gardiner, who was become prime minister, and who had been promoted to the office of chancellor, finding how Mary's inclinations lay, seconded the project of the Spanish alliance. At the same time he represented, both to her and the emperor, the necessity of stopping all further innovations in religion, till the completion of the marriage. He observed, that the parliament amidst all their compliances had discovered evident symptoms of jealousy, and seemed at present determined to grant no further concessions in favor of the Catholic religion: that though they might make a sacrifice to their sovereign of some speculative principles which they did not well comprehend, or of some rites which seemed not of any great moment, they had imbibed such strong prejudices against the pretended usurpations and exactions of the court of Rome, that they would with great difficulty be again brought to submit to its authority: that the danger of resuming the abbey lands would alarm the nobility and gentry, and induce them to encourage the prepossessions, which were but too general among the people, against the doctrine and worship of the Catholic church: that much pains had been taken to prejudice the nation against the Spanish alliance; and if that point were urged at the same time with further changes in religion, it would hazard a general revolt and insurrection: that the marriage being once completed would give authority to the queen's measures, and enable her afterwards to forward the pious work in which she was engaged: and that it was even necessary previously to reconcile the people to the marriage, by rendering the conditions extremely favorable to the English, and such as would seem to insure to them their independency, and the entire possession of their ancient laws and privileges.[*]
The emperor, well acquainted with the prudence and experience of Gardiner, assented to all these reasons, and he endeavored to temper the zeal of Mary, by representing the necessity of proceeding gradually in the great work of converting the nation. Hearing that Cardinal Pole, more sincere in his religious opinions, and less guided by the maxims of human policy, after having sent contrary advice to the queen, had set out on his journey to England, where he was to exercise his legatine commission, he thought proper to stop him at Dillinghen, a town on the Danube; and he afterwards obtained Mary's consent for this detention. The negotiation for the marriage meanwhile proceeded apace; and Mary's intentions of espousing Philip became generally known to the nation. The commons, who hoped that they had gained the queen by the concessions which they had already made, were alarmed to hear that she was resolved to contract a foreign alliance; and they sent a committee to remonstrate in strong terms against that dangerous measure. To prevent further applications of the same kind, she thought proper to dissolve the parliament.
A convocation had been summoned at the same time with the parliament; and the majority here also appeared to be of the court religion. An offer was very frankly made by the Romanists, to dispute concerning the points controverted between the two communions; and as transubstantiation was the article which of all others they deemed the clearest, and founded on the most irresistible arguments, they chose to try their strength by defending it. The Protestants pushed the dispute as far as the clamor and noise of their antagonists would permit; and they fondly imagined that they had obtained some advantage, when, in the course of the debate, they obliged the Catholics to avow that, according to their doctrine, Christ had in his last supper held himself in his hand, and had swallowed and eaten himself.[**]
     * Burnet, vol. ii. p. 261.

     ** Collier, vol. ii. p. 356.
This triumph, however, was confined only to their own party: the Romanists maintained, that their champions had clearly the better of the day, that their adversaries were blind and obstinate heretics; that nothing but the most extreme depravity of heart could induce men to contest such self-evident principles; and that the severest punishments were due to their perverse wickedness. So pleased were they with their superiority in this favorite point, that they soon after renewed the dispute at Oxford; and, to show that they feared no force of learning or abilities, where reason was so evident on their side, they sent thither Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley, under a guard, to try whether these renowned controversialists could find any appearance of argument to defend their baffled principles.[*] The issue of the debate was very different from what it appeared to be a few years before, in a famous conference held at the same place during the reign of Edward.
1554.
After the parliament and convocation were dismissed, the new laws with regard to religion, though they had been anticipated in most places by the zeal of the Catholics, countenanced by government, were still more openly put in execution: the mass was every where reëstablished; and marriage was declared to be incompatible with any spiritual office. It has been asserted by some writers, that three fourths of the clergy were at this time deprived of their livings; though other historians, more accurate,[**] have estimated the number of sufferers to be far short of this proportion. A visitation was appointed, in order to restore more perfectly the mass and the ancient rites. Among other articles, the commissioners were enjoined to forbid the oath of supremacy to be taken by the clergy on their receiving any benefice.[***] It is to be observed, that this oath had been established by the laws of Henry VIII., which were still in force.
     * Mem. Cranm. p. 354. Heylin, p. 50.

     ** Harmer, p. 138.

     *** Collier, vol. ii. p. 364. Fox, vol. iii. p. 38. Heylin,
     p. 35. Sleiden, lib. xxv.
This violent and sudden change of religion inspired the Protestants with great discontent; and even affected indifferent spectators with concern, by the hardships to which so many individuals were on that account exposed. But the Spanish match was a point of more general concern, and diffused universal apprehension for the liberty and independence of the nation. To obviate all clamor, the articles of marriage were drawn as favorable as possible for the interests and security, and even grandeur of England. It was agreed, that though Philip should have the title of king, the administration should be entirely in the queen; that no foreigner should be capable of enjoying any office in the kingdom; that no innovation should be made in the English laws, customs, and privileges; that Philip should not carry the queen abroad without her consent, nor any of her children without the consent of the nobility; that sixty thousand pounds a year should be settled as her jointure; that the male issue of this marriage should inherit, together with England, both Burgundy and the Low Countries; and that if Don Carlos, Philip's son by his former marriage, should die, and his line be extinct, the queen's issue, whether male or female, should inherit Spain, Sicily, Milan, and all the other dominions of Philip.[*] Such was the treaty of marriage signed by Count Egmont and three other ambassadors, sent over to England by the emperor.[**]
These articles, when published, gave no satisfaction to the nation. It was universally said, that the emperor, in order to get possession of England, would verbally agree to any terms and the greater advantage there appeared in the conditions which he granted, the more certainly might it be concluded that he had no serious intention of observing them: that the usual fraud and ambition of that monarch might assure the nation of such a conduct: and his son Philip, while he inherited these vices from his father, added to them tyranny, sullenness, pride, and barbarity, more dangerous vices of his own: that England would become a province, and a province to a kingdom which usually exercised the most violent authority over all her dependent dominions: that the Netherlands, Milan, Sicily, Naples, groaned under the burden of Spanish tyranny; and throughout all the new conquests in America there had been displayed scenes of unrelenting cruelty, hitherto unknown in the history of mankind: that the inquisition was a tribunal invented by that tyrannical nation, and would infallibly, with all their other laws and institutions, be introduced into England; and that the divided sentiments of the people with regard to religion would subject multitudes to this iniquitous tribunal, and would reduce the whole nation to the most abject servitude.[***]
     * Rymer, vol. xv. p. 377.

     ** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 299.

     *** Heylin p. 32. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 268. Godwin, p. 339.
These complaints being diffused every where, prepared the people for a rebellion; and had any foreign power given them encouragement, or any great man appeared to head them, the consequence might have proved fatal to the queen's authority. But the king of France, though engaged in hostilities with the emperor, refused to concur in any proposal for an insurrection, lest he should afford Mary a pretence for declaring war against him.[*] And the more prudent part of the nobility thought that, as the evils of the Spanish alliance were only dreaded at a distance, matters were not yet fully prepared for a general revolt. Some persons, however, more turbulent than the rest, believed that it would be safer to prevent than to redress grievances; and they formed a conspiracy to rise in arms, and declare against the queen's marriage with Philip. Sir Thomas Wiat purposed to raise Kent; Sir Peter Carew, Devonshire; and they engaged the duke of Suffolk, by the hopes of recovering the crown for the lady Jane, to attempt raising the midland counties.[**] Carew's impatience or apprehensions engaged him to break the concert, and to rise in arms before the day appointed. He was soon suppressed by the earl of Bedford, and constrained to fly into France. On this intelligence, Suffolk, dreading an arrest, suddenly left the town with his brothers, Lord Thomas and Lord Leonard Gray, and endeavored to raise the people in the counties of Warwick and Leicester, where his interest lay; but he was so closely pursued by the earl of Huntingdon, at the head of three hundred horse, that he was obliged to disperse his followers, and being discovered in his concealment, he was carried prisoner to London.[***]
     * Dépêches de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 249; vol. iii. p. 17,
     58.

     ** Heylin, p. 33. Godwin, p. 340.

     *** Fox, vol. iii. p. 30.
Wiat was at first more successful in his attempt; and having published a declaration, at Maidstone in Kent, against the queen's evil counsellors, and against the Spanish match, without any mention of religion, the people began to flock to his standard. The duke of Norfolk, with Sir Henry Jernegan, was sent against him, at the head of the guards and some other troops, reënforced with five hundred Londoners commanded by Bret: and he came within sight of the rebels at Rochester, where they had fixed their head-quarters. Sir George Harper here pretended to desert from them; but having secretly gained Bret, these two malecontents so wrought on the Londoners, that the whole body deserted to Wiat, and declared that they would not contribute to enslave their native country. Norfolk, dreading the contagion of the example, immediately retreated with his troops, and took shelter in the city.[*]
After this proof of the disposition of the people, especially of the Londoners, who were mostly Protestants, Wiat was encouraged to proceed; he led his forces to Southwark, where he required of the queen that she should put the Tower into his hands, should deliver four counsellors as hostages, and in order to insure the liberty of the nation, should immediately marry an Englishman. Finding that the bridge was secured against him, and that the city was overawed, he marched up to Kingston, where he passed the river with four thousand men; and returning towards London, hoped to encourage his partisans who had engaged to declare for him. He had imprudently wasted so much time at Southwark, and in his march from Kingston, that the critical season, on which all popular commotions depend, was entirely lost: though he entered Westminster without resistance, his followers, finding that no person of note joined him, insensibly fell off, and he was at last seized near Temple Bar by Sir Maurice Berkeley.[**] Four hundred persons are said to have suffered for this rebellion:[***] four hundred more were conducted before the queen with ropes about their necks: and falling on their knees, received a pardon, and were dismissed. Wiat was condemned and executed: as it had been reported that, on his examination, he had accused the lady Elizabeth and the earl of Devonshire as accomplices, he took care, on the scaffold, before the whole people, fully to acquit them of having any share in his rebellion.
     * Heylin, p. 33. Godwin, p. 341. Stowe, p. 619. Baker, p.
     318. Holingshed, p. 1094.

     ** Fox, vol. iii. p. 31. Heylin, p. 34. Burnet, vol. ii. p.
     270. Stowe, p. 621.

     *** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 124.
The lady Elizabeth had been, during some time, treated with great harshness by her sister; and many studied instances of discouragement and disrespect had been practised against her. She was ordered to take place at court after the countess of Lenox and the duchess of Suffolk, as if she were not legitimate:[*] her friends were discountenanced on every occasion: and while her virtues, which were now become eminent, drew to her the attendance of all the young nobility, and rendered her the favorite of the nation;[**] the malevolence of the queen still discovered itself every day by fresh symptoms, and obliged the princess to retire into the country. Mary seized the opportunity of this rebellion; and hoping to involve her sister in some appearance of guilt, sent for her under a strong guard, committed her to the Tower, and ordered her to be strictly examined by the council. But the public declaration made by Wiat rendered it impracticable to employ against her any false evidence which might have offered; and the princess made so good a defence, that the queen found herself under a necessity of releasing her.[***] In order to send her out of the kingdom, a marriage was offered her with the duke of Savoy; and when she declined the proposal, she was committed to custody under a strong guard at Wodestoke.[****] The earl of Devonshire, though equally innocent, was confined in Fotheringay Castle.
But this rebellion proved still more fatal to the lady Jane Gray, as well as to her husband: the duke of Suffolk's guilt was imputed to her; and though the rebels and malecontents seemed chiefly to rest their hopes on the lady Elizabeth and the earl of Devonshire, the queen, incapable of generosity or clemency, determined to remove every person from whom the least danger could be apprehended. Warning was given the lady Jane to prepare for death; a doom which she had long expected, and which the innocence of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which she had been exposed, rendered nowise unwelcome to her. The queen's zeal, under color of tender mercy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send divines, who harassed her with perpetual disputation; and even a reprieve for three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be persuaded during that time to pay, by a timely conversion, some regard to her eternal welfare. The lady Jane had presence of mind, in those melancholy circumstances, not only to defend her religion by all the topics then in use, but also to write a letter to her sister[v] in the Greek language; in which, besides sending her a copy of the Scriptures in that tongue, she exhorted her to maintain, in every fortune, a like steady perseverance.
     * Dépêches de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 273, 288.

     ** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 273.

     *** Godwin, p. 343. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 273. Fox, vol. ii.
     p. 99, 105. Strype's Mem. vol. iii. p. 85.

     **** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 226.

     v    Fox vol. iii. p. 35. Heylin, p. 166.
On the day of her execution, her husband, Lord Guildford, desired permission to see her; but she refused her consent, and informed him by a message, that the tenderness of their parting would overcome the fortitude of both, and would too much unbend their minds from that constancy which their approaching end required of them: their separation, she said, would be only for a moment; and they would soon rejoin each other in a scene where their affections would be forever united, and where death, disappointment, and misfortunes, could no longer have access to them, or disturb their eternal felicity.[*]
It had been intended to execute the lady Jane and Lord Guildford together on the same scaffold at Tower Hill; but the council, dreading the compassion of the people for their youth, beauty, innocence, and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave directions that she should be beheaded within the verge of the Tower. She saw her husband led to execution; and having given him from the window some token of her remembrance, she waited with tranquillity till her own appointed hour should bring her to a like fate. She even saw his headless body carried back in a cart; and found herself more confirmed by the reports which she heard of the constancy of his end, than shaken by so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir John Gage, constable of the Tower, when he led her to execution, desired her to bestow on him some small present, which he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her: she gave him her table-book, on which she had just written three sentences on seeing her husband's dead body; one in Greek, another in Latin, a third in English.[**] The purport of them was, that human justice was against his body, but divine mercy would be favorable to his soul; that if her fault deserved punishment, her youth at least, and her imprudence, were worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity, she trusted, would show her favor.
     * Heylin, p. 167. Baker p. 319.

     ** Heylin, p. 167.
On the scaffold she made a speech to the bystanders; in which the mildness of her disposition led her to take the blame wholly on herself, without uttering one complaint against the severity with which she had been treated. She said, that her offence was not the having laid her hand upon the crown, but the not rejecting it with sufficient constancy; that she had less erred through ambition than through reverence to her parents, whom she had been taught to respect and obey: that she willingly received death, as the only satisfaction which she could now make to the injured state; and though her infringement of the laws had been constrained, she would show, by her voluntary submission to their sentence, that she was desirous to atone for that disobedience into which too much filial piety had betrayed her: that she had justly deserved this punishment for being made the instrument, though the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of others; and that the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be useful, by proving that innocence excuses not great misdeeds, if they tend anywise to the destruction of the commonwealth. After uttering these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her women; and with a steady serene countenance submitted herself to the executioner.[*]
The duke of Suffolk was tried, condemned, and executed soon after; and would have met with more compassion, had not his temerity been the cause of his daughter's untimely end. Lord Thomas Gray lost his life for the same crime. Sir Nicholas Throgmorton was tried in Guildhall; but there appearing no satisfactory evidence against him, he was able, by making an admirable defence, to obtain a verdict of the jury in his favor. The queen was so enraged at this disappointment, that, instead of releasing him as the law required, she recommitted him to the Tower, and kept him in close confinement during some time. But her resentment stopped not here: the jury, being summoned before the council, were all sent to prison, and afterwards fined, some of them a thousand pounds, others two thousand apiece.[**] This violence proved fatal to several; among others to Sir John Throgmorton, brother to Sir Nicholas, who was condemned on no better evidence, than had formerly been rejected. The queen filled the Tower and all the prisons with nobility and gentry, whom their interest with the nation, rather than any appearance of guilt, had made the objects of her suspicion; and finding that she was universally hated, she determined to disable the people from resistance, by ordering general musters, and directing the commissioners to seize their arms, and lay them up in forts and castles.[***]
     * Heylin, p. 167. Fox, vol iii. p. 36, 37. Holingshed, p.
     1099.

     ** Fox, vol. iii. p. 99. Stowe, p. 624. Baker, p. 320.
     Holingshed, p. 1104, 1121. Strype, vol. iii. p. 120. Dép. de
     Noailles, vol. iii. p. 173.

     *** Dép. de Noailles, vol. iii p. 98.
Though the government labored under so general an odium, the queen's authority had received such an increase from the suppression of Wiat's rebellion, that the ministry hoped to find a compliant disposition in the new parliament which was summoned to assemble. The emperor also, in order to facilitate the same end, had borrowed no less a sum than four hundred thousand crowns, which he had sent over to England to be distributed in bribes and pensions among the members: a pernicious practice, of which there had not hitherto been any instance in England. And not to give the public any alarm with regard to the church lands, the queen, notwithstanding her bigotry, resumed her title of supreme head of the church, which she had dropped three months before. Gardiner, the chancellor, opened the session by a speech; in which he asserted the queen's hereditary title to the crown; maintained her right of choosing a husband for herself; observed how proper a use she had made of that right, by giving the preference to an old ally, descended from the house of Burgundy; and remarked the failure of Henry VIII.'s posterity, of whom there now remained none but the queen and the lady Elizabeth. He added, that, in order to obviate the inconveniencies which might arise from different pretenders, it was necessary to invest the queen, by law, with a power of disposing of the crown, and of appointing her successor: a power, he said, which was not to be thought unprecedented in England, since it had formerly been conferred on Henry VIII.[*]
     * Dépêches de Noailles.
The parliament was much disposed to gratify the queen in all her desires; but when the liberty, independency, and very being of the nation were in such visible danger, they could not by any means be brought to compliance. They knew both the inveterate hatred which she bore to the lady Elizabeth, and her devoted attachment to the house of Austria: they were acquainted with her extreme bigotry, which would lead her to postpone all considerations of justice or national interest to the establishment of the Catholic religion: they remarked, that Gardiner had carefully avoided in his speech the giving to Elizabeth the appellation of the queen's sister; and they thence concluded that a design was formed of excluding her as illegitimate: they expected that Mary, if invested with such a power as she required, would make a will in her husband's favor, and thereby render England forever a province to the Spanish monarchy; and they were the more alarmed with these projects, as they heard that Philip's descent from the house of Lancaster was carefully insisted on, and that he was publicly represented as the true and only heir by right of inheritance.
The parliament, therefore, aware of their danger, were determined to keep at a distance from the precipice which lay before them. They could not avoid ratifying the articles of marriage,[*] which were drawn very favorable for England; but they declined the passing of any such law as the chancellor pointed out to them: they would not so much as declare it treason to imagine or attempt the death of the queen's husband while she was alive; and a bill introduced for that purpose was laid aside after the first reading. The more effectually to cut off Philip's hopes of possessing any authority in England, they passed a law in which they declared, "that her majesty, as their only queen, should solely, and as a sole queen, enjoy the crown and sovereignty of her realms, with all the preëminences, dignities, and rights thereto belonging, in as large and ample a manner after her marriage as before, without any title or claim accruing to the prince of Spain, either as tenant by courtesy of the realm, or by any other means."[**]
A law passed in this parliament for reërecting the bishopric of Durham, which had been dissolved by the last parliament of Edward.[***] The queen had already, by an exertion of her power, put Tonstal in possession of that see: but though it was usual at that time for the crown to assume authority which might seem entirely legislative, it was always deemed more safe and satisfactory to procure the sanction of parliament. Bills were introduced for suppressing heterodox opinions contained in books, and for reviving the law of the six articles, together with those against the Lollards, and against heresy and erroneous preaching; but none of these laws could pass the two houses: a proof that the parliament had reserves even in their concessions with regard to religion; about which they seem to have been less scrupulous. The queen, therefore, finding that they would not serve all her purposes, finished the session by dissolving them.
     * I Mar. Parl. 2, cap. 2.

     ** I Mar. Parl. 2. cap. 1.

     *** I Mar. Parl. 2, cap. 3.
Mary's thoughts were now entirely employed about receiving Don Philip, whose arrival she hourly expected. This princess, who had lived so many years in a very reserved and private manner, without any prospect or hopes of a husband, was so smitten with affection for her young consort, whom she had never seen, that she waited with the utmost impatience for the completion of the marriage; and every obstacle was to her a source of anxiety and discontent.[*] She complained of Philip's delays as affected; and she could not conceal her vexation, that, though she brought him a kingdom as her dowry, he treated her with such neglect that he had never yet favored her with a single letter.[**] Her fondness was but the more increased by this supercilious treatment; and when she found that her subjects had entertained the greatest aversion for the event to which she directed her fondest wishes, she made the whole English nation the object of her resentment. A squadron, under the command of Lord Effingham, had been fitted out to convoy Philip from Spain, where he then resided; but the admiral informing her that the discontents ran very high among the seamen, and that it was not safe for Philip to intrust himself in their hands, she gave orders to dismiss them.[***] She then dreaded lest the French fleet, being masters of the sea, might intercept her husband; and every rumor of danger, every blast of wind, threw her into panics and convulsions. Her health, and even her understanding, were visibly hurt by this extreme impatience; and she was struck with a new apprehension lest her person, impaired by time and blasted by sickness, should prove disagreeable to her future consort. Her glass discovered to her how haggard she was become; and when she remarked the decay of her beauty, she knew not whether she ought more to desire or apprehend the arrival of Philip.[****]
     * Strype, vol. iii. p. 125.

     ** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 248.

     *** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 220.

     **** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 222, 252, 253.
At last came the moment so impatiently expected; and news was brought the queen of Philip's arrival at Southampton.[*] A few days after they were married in Westminster; and having made a pompous entry into London, where Philip displayed his wealth with great ostentation, she carried him to Windsor, the palace in which they afterwards resided. The prince's behavior was ill calculated to remove the prejudices which the English nation had entertained against him. He was distant and reserved in his address; took no notice of the salutes even of the most considerable noblemen; and so intrenched himself in form and ceremony that he was in a manner inaccessible:[**] but this circumstance rendered him the more acceptable to the queen, who desired to have no company but her husband's, and who was impatient when she met with any interruption to her fondness. The shortest absence gave her vexation; and, when he showed civilities to any other woman, she could not conceal her jealousy and resentment.
Mary soon found that Philip's ruling passion was ambition, and that the only method of gratifying him and securing his affections was to render him master of England. The interest and liberty of her people were considerations of small moment in comparison of her obtaining this favorite point. She summoned a new parliament, in hopes of finding them entirely compliant; and, that she might acquire the greater authority over them, she imitated the precedent of the former reign, and wrote circular letters, directing a proper choice of members.[***] The zeal of the Catholics, the influence of Spanish gold, the powers of prerogative, the discouragement of the gentry, particularly of the Protestants; all these causes, seconding the intrigues of Gardiner, had procured her a house of commons which was in a great measure to her satisfaction; and it was thought, from the disposition of the nation, that she might now safely omit, on her assembling the parliament, the title of "supreme head of the church," though inseparably annexed by law to the crown of England.[****] Cardinal Pole had arrived in Flanders, invested with legatine powers from the pope: in order to prepare the way for his arrival in England, the parliament passed an act reversing his attainder and restoring his blood; and the queen, dispensing with the old statute of provisors, granted him permission to act as legate. The cardinal came over, and, after being introduced to the king and queen, he invited the parliament to reconcile themselves and the kingdom to the apostolic see, from which they had been so long and so unhappily divided.
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 99. Heylin, p. 39. Burnet, vol. iii. p.
     392. Godwin, p. 345. We are told by Sir William Monson, p.
     225, that the admiral of England fired at the Spanish navy
     when Philip was on board, because they had not lowered their
     topsails, as a mark of deference, to the English navy in the
     narrow seas: a very spirited behavior, and very unlike those
     times.

     ** Baker, p. 320.

     *** Mem. of Cranm. p. 344. Strype's Eccl. Mem., vol. iii. p.
     154, 155*[**missing period]

     **** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 291. Strype, vol. iii. p. 155.
This message was taken in good part; and both houses voted an address to Philip and Mary, acknowledging that they had been guilty of a most horrible defection from the true church; professing a sincere repentance of their past transgressions; declaring their resolution to repeal all laws enacted in prejudice of the church of Rome; and praying their majesties, that, since they were happily uninfected with that criminal schism, they would intercede with the holy father for the absolution and forgiveness of their penitent subjects.[*] The request was easily granted. The legate, in the name of his holiness, gave the parliament and kingdom absolution, freed them from all censures, and received them again into the bosom of the church. The pope, then Julius III., being informed of these transactions, said that it was an unexampled instance of his felicity to receive thanks from the English for allowing them to do what he ought to give them thanks for performing.[**]
Notwithstanding the extreme zeal of those times for and against popery, the object always uppermost with the nobility and gentry was their money and estates: they were not brought to make these concessions in favor of Rome till they had received repeated assurances, from the pope as well as the queen, that the plunder which they had made on the ecclesiastics should never be inquired into; and that the abbey and church lands should remain with the present possessors.[***] But not trusting altogether to these promises, the parliament took care, in the law itself[****] by which they repealed the former statutes enacted against the pope's authority, to insert a clause, in which, besides bestowing validity on all marriages celebrated during the schism, and fixing the right of incumbents to their benefices, they gave security to the possessors of church lands, and freed them from all danger of ecclesiastical censures. The convocation also, in order to remove apprehensions on that head, were induced to present a petition to the same purpose;[v] and the legate, in his master's name, ratified all these transactions. It now appeared that, notwithstanding the efforts of the queen and king, the power of the papacy was effectually suppressed in England, and invincible barriers fixed against its reëstablishment. For though the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastics was for the present restored, their property, on which their power much depended, was irretrievably lost, and no hopes remained of recovering it.
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 3. Heylin, p. 42. Burnet, vol. ii. p.
     293. Godwin, p. 247.

     ** Father Paul, lib. iv.

     *** Heylin, p. 41.

     **** I and 2 Phil. and Mar. c. 8.

     v    Heylin, p. 43. I and 2 Phil, and Mar. c. 8. Strype,
     vol. iii. p. 159.
Even these arbitrary, powerful, and bigoted princes, while the transactions were yet recent, could not regain to the church her possessions so lately ravished from her; and no expedients were left to the clergy for enriching themselves but those which they had at first practised, and which had required many ages of ignorance, barbarism, and superstition to produce their effect on mankind.[*] 21
The parliament, having secured their own possessions, were more indifferent with regard to religion, or even to the lives of their fellow-citizens: they revived the old sanguinary laws against heretics,[**] which had been rejected in the former parliament: they also enacted several statutes against seditious words and rumors;[***] and they made it treason to imagine or attempt the death of Philip during his marriage with the queen.[****] Each parliament hitherto had been induced to go a step farther than their predecessors; but none of them had entirely lost all regard to national interests. Their hatred against the Spaniards, as well as their suspicion of Philip's pretensions, still prevailed; and though the queen attempted to get her husband declared presumptive heir of the crown, and to have the administration put into his hands, she failed in all her endeavors, and could not so much as procure the parliament's consent to his coronation.[v] All attempts likewise to obtain subsidies from the commons, in order to support the emperor in his war against France, proved fruitless: the usual animosity and jealousy of the English against that kingdom seemed to have given place, for the present, to like passions against Spain. Philip, sensible of the prepossessions entertained against him, endeavored to acquire popularity by procuring the release of several prisoners of distinction; Lord Henry Dudley, Sir George Harper, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, Sir Edmond Warner, Sir William St. Lo, Sir Nicholas Arnold, Harrington, Tremaine, who had been confined from the suspicions or resentment of the court.[v*] But nothing was more agreeable to the nation than his protecting the lady Elizabeth from the spite and malice of the queen, and restoring her to liberty. This measure was not the effect of any generosity in Philip, a sentiment of which he was wholly destitute; but of a refined policy, which made him foresee that, if that princess were put to death, the next lawful heir was the queen of Scots, whose succession would forever annex England to the crown of France. The earl of Devonshire also reaped some benefit from Philip's affectation of popularity, and recovered his liberty: but that nobleman, finding himself exposed to suspicion, begged permission to travel;[v**] and he soon after died at Padua, from poison, as is pretended, given him by the imperialists. He was the eleventh and last earl of Devonshire of that noble family, one of the most illustrious in Europe.
     * See note U, at the end of the volume.

     ** 1 and 2 Phil. and Mar. c. 6.

     *** 1 and 2 Phil. and Mar. c. 3, 9.

     **** 1 and 2 Phil. and Mar. c. 10.

     v    Godwin, p. 348. Baker, p. 322.

     v*   Heylin, p. 39. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 287. Stowe, p. 626.
     Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iv. p. 146, 147.

     v**  Heylin, p. 40. Godwin, p. 349.
The queen's extreme desire of having issue had made her fondly give credit to any appearance of pregnancy; and when the legate was introduced to her, she fancied that she felt the embryo stir in her womb.[*] Her flatterers compared this motion of the infant to that of John the Baptist, who, leaped in his mother's belly at the salutation of the Virgin.[**] Despatches were immediately sent to inform foreign courts of this event: orders were issued to give public thanks: great rejoicings were made: the family of the young prince was already settled;[***] for the Catholics held themselves assured that the child was to be a male: and Bonner, bishop of London, made public prayers be said, that Heaven would please to render him beautiful, vigorous, and witty. But the nation still remained somewhat incredulous; and men were persuaded that the queen labored under infirmities which rendered her incapable of having children. Her infant proved only the commencement of a dropsy, which the disordered state of her health had brought upon her. The belief, however, of her pregnancy was upheld with all possible care; and was one artifice by which Philip endeavored to support his authority in the kingdom.
     * Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iv. p. 25.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 292. Godwin, p. 348.

     *** Heylin, p. 46.
1555.
The parliament passed a law, which, in case of the queen's demise, appointed him protector during the minority; and the king and queen, finding they could obtain no further concessions, came unexpectedly to Westminster and dissolved them.
There happened an incident this session which must not be passed over in silence. Several members of the lower house, dissatisfied with the measures of the parliament, but finding themselves unable to prevent them, made a secession, in order to show their disapprobation, and refused any longer to attend the house.[*] For this instance of contumacy they were indicted in the king's bench, after the dissolution of parliament: six of them submitted to the mercy of the court, and paid their fines: the rest traversed; and the queen died before the affair was brought to an issue. Judging of the matter by the subsequent claims of the house of commons, and, indeed, by the true principles of free government, this attempt of the queen's ministers must be regarded as a breach of privilege; but it gave little umbrage at the time, and was never called in question by any house of commons which afterwards sat during this reign. The count of Noailles, the French ambassador, says that the queen threw several members into prison for their freedom of speech.[**]
     * Coke's Institutes, part iii. p. 17. Strype's Memor. vol.
     i.p.165

     ** Vol. v. p. 296.




CHAPTER XXXVII





MARY.

1555.
THE success which Gardiner, from his cautious and prudent conduct, had met with in governing the parliament, and engaging them to concur both in the Spanish match and in the reëstablishment of the ancient religion,—two points to which, it was believed, they bore an extreme aversion,—had so raised his character for wisdom and policy that his opinion was received as an oracle in the council; and his authority, as it was always great in his own party, no longer suffered any opposition or control. Cardinal Pole himself, though more beloved on account of his virtue and candor, and though superior in birth and station, had not equal weight in public deliberations; and while his learning, piety, and humanity were extremely respected, he was represented more as a good man than a great minister. A very important question was frequently debated before the queen and council by these two ecclesiastics; whether the laws lately revived against heretics should be put in execution, or should only be employed to restrain by terror the bold attempts of these zealots. Pole was very sincere in his religious principles; and though his moderation had made him be suspected at Rome of a tendency towards Lutheranism, he was seriously persuaded of the Catholic doctrines, and thought that no consideration of human policy ought ever to come in competition with such important interests. Gardiner, on the contrary, had always made his religion subservient to his schemes of safety or advancement; and by his unlimited complaisance to Henry, he had shown that, had he not been pushed to extremity under the late minority, he was sufficiently disposed to make a sacrifice of his principles to the established theology. This was the well-known character of these two great counsellors; yet such is the prevalence of temper above system, that the benevolent disposition of Pole led him to advise a toleration of the heretical tenets which he highly blamed; while the severe manners of Gardiner inclined him to support by persecution that religion which, at the bottom, he regarded with great indifference.[*] This circumstance of public conduct was of the highest importance; and from being the object of deliberation in the council, it soon became the subject of discourse throughout the nation. We shall relate, in a few words, the topics by which each side supported, or might have supported, their scheme of policy; and shall display the opposite reasons which have been employed, with regard to an argument that ever has been, and ever will be, so much canvassed.
     * Heylin, p. 47.
The practice of persecution, said the defenders of Pole's opinion, is the scandal of all religion; and the theological animosity, so fierce and violent, far from being an argument of men's conviction in their opposite sects, is a certain proof that they have never reached any serious persuasion with regard to these remote and sublime subjects. Even those who are the most impatient of contradiction in other controversies, are mild and moderate in comparison of polemical divines; and wherever a man's knowledge and experience give him a perfect assurance in his own opinion, he regards with contempt, rather than anger, the opposition and mistakes of others. But while men zealously maintain what they neither clearly comprehend nor entirely believe, they are shaken in their imagined faith by the opposite persuasion, or even doubts, of other men; and vent on their antagonists that impatience which is the natural result of so disagreeable a state of the understanding. They then easily embrace any pretense for representing opponents as impious and profane; and if they can also find a color for connecting this violence with the interests of civil government, they can no longer be restrained from giving uncontrolled scope to vengeance and resentment. But surely never enterprise was more unfortunate than that of founding persecution upon policy, or endeavoring, for the sake of peace, to settle an entire uniformity of opinion in questions which, of all others, are least subjected to the criterion of human reason. The universal and uncontradicted prevalence of one opinion in religious subjects can be owing, at first, to the stupid ignorance alone and barbarism of the people, who never indulge themselves in any speculation or inquiry; and there is no expedient for maintaining that uniformity so fondly sought after, but by banishing forever all curiosity, and all improvement in science and cultivation. It may not indeed appear difficult to check, by a steady severity, the first beginnings of controversy; but besides that this policy exposes forever the people to all the abject terrors of superstition, and the magistrate to the endless encroachments of ecclesiastics, it also renders men so delicate that they can never endure to hear of opposition; and they will some time pay dearly for that false tranquillity in which they have been so long indulged. As healthful bodies are ruined by too nice a regimen, and are thereby rendered incapable of bearing the unavoidable incidents of human life, a people who never were allowed to imagine that their principles could be contested fly out into the most outrageous violence when any event (and such events are common) produces a faction among their clergy, and gives rise to any difference in tenet or opinion. But whatever may be said in favor of suppressing, by persecution, the first beginnings of heresy, no solid argument can be alleged for extending severity towards multitudes, or endeavoring, by capital punishments, to extirpate an opinion which has diffused itself among men of every rank and station. Besides the extreme barbarity of such an attempt, it commonly proves ineffectual to the purpose intended, and serves only to make men more obstinate in their persuasion, and to increase the number of their proselytes. The melancholy with which the fear of death, torture, and persecution inspires the sectaries, is the proper disposition for fostering religious zeal: the prospect of eternal rewards, when brought near, overpowers the dread of temporal punishments: the glory of martyrdom stimulates all the more furious zealots, especially the leaders and preachers: where a violent animosity is excited by oppression, men naturally pass from hating the persons of their tyrants to a more violent abhorrence of their doctrines: and the spectators, moved with pity towards the supposed martyrs, are easily seduced to embrace those principles which can inspire men with a constancy that appears almost supernatural. Open the door to toleration, mutual hatred relaxes among the sectaries, their attachment to their particular modes of religion decays; the common occupations and pleasures of life succeed to the acrimony of disputation; and the same man who, in other circumstances, would have braved flames and tortures, is induced to change his sect from the smallest prospect of favor and advancement, or even from the frivolous hope of becoming more fashionable in his principles. If any exception can be admitted to this maxim of toleration, it will only be where a theology altogether new, nowise connected with the ancient religion of the state, is imported from foreign countries, and may easily, at one blow, be eradicated, without leaving the seeds of future innovation. But as this exception would imply some apology for the ancient pagan persecutions, or for the extirpation of Christianity in China and Japan, it ought surely, on account of this detested consequence, to be rather buried in eternal silence and oblivion.
Though these arguments appear entirely satisfactory, yet such is the subtlety of human wit, that Gardiner and the other enemies to toleration were not reduced to silence; and they still found topics on which to maintain the controversy. The doctrine, said they, of liberty of conscience, is founded on the most flagrant impiety, and supposes such an indifference among all religions, such an obscurity in theological doctrines, as to render the church and magistrate incapable of distinguishing with certainty the dictates of Heaven from the mere fictions of human imagination. If the Divinity reveals principles to mankind, he will surely give a criterion by which they may be ascertained; and a prince who knowingly allows these principles to be perverted or adulterated, is infinitely more criminal than if he gave permission for the vending of poison, under the shape of food, to all his subjects. Persecution may, indeed, seem better calculated to make hypocrites than converts; but experience teaches us, that the habits of hypocrisy often turn into reality; and the children, at least, ignorant of the dissimulation of their parents, may happily be educated in more orthodox tenets. It is absurd, in opposition to considerations of such unspeakable importance, to plead the temporal and frivolous interests of civil society; and if matters be thoroughly examined, even that topic will not appear so universally certain in favor of toleration as by some it is represented. Where sects arise whose fundamental principle on all sides is to execrate, and abhor, and damn, and extirpate each other, what choice has the magistrate left but to take part, and by rendering one sect entirely prevalent, restore, at least for a time, the public tranquillity? The political body, being here sickly, must not be treated as if it were in a state of sound health; and an affected neutrality in the prince, or even a cool preference, may serve only to encourage the hopes of all the sects, and keep alive their animosity. The Protestants, far from tolerating the religion of their ancestors, regard it as an impious and detestable idolatry; and during the late minority, when they were entirely masters, they enacted very severe, though not capital, punishments against all exercise of the Catholic worship, and even against such as barely abstained from their profane rites and sacraments. Nor are instances wanting of their endeavors to secure an imagined orthodoxy by the most rigorous executions: Calvin has burned Servetus at Geneva; Cranmer brought Arians and Anabaptists to the stake; and if persecution of any kind be admitted, the most bloody and violent will surely be allowed the most justifiable, as the most effectual. Imprisonments, fines, confiscations, whippings, serve only to irritate the sects, without disabling them from resistance: but the stake, the wheel, and the gibbet, must soon terminate in the extirpation or banishment of all the heretics inclined to give disturbance, and in the entire silence and submission of the rest.
The arguments of Gardiner, being more agreeable to the cruel bigotry of Mary and Philip, were better received; and though Pole pleaded, as is affirmed,[*] the advice of the emperor, who recommended it to his daughter-in-law not to exercise violence against the Protestants, and desired her to consider his own example, who, after endeavoring through his whole life to extirpate heresy, had in the end reaped nothing but confusion and disappointment, the scheme of toleration was entirely rejected. It was determined to let loose the laws in their full vigor against the reformed religion; and England was soon filled with scenes of horror, which have ever since rendered the Catholic religion the object of general detestation and which prove, that no human depravity can equal revenge and cruelty covered with the mantle of religion.
     * Burnet, vol. ii. Heylin, p. 47. It is not likely, however,
     that Charles gave any such advice; for he himself was, at
     this very time, proceeding with great violence in
     persecuting the reformed in Flanders. Bentivoglio, part i,
     lib. i.
The persecutors began with Rogers, prebendary of St. Paul's, a man eminent in his party for virtue as well as for learning. Gardiner's plan was first to attack men of that character, whom, he hoped, terror would bend to submission, and whose example, either of punishment or recantation, would naturally have influence on the multitude: but he found a perseverance and courage in Rogers, which it may seem strange to find in human nature, and of which all ages and all sects do nevertheless furnish many examples. Rogers, beside the care of his own preservation, lay under other powerful temptations to compliance: he had a wife whom he tenderly loved, and ten children; yet such was his serenity after his condemnation, that the jailers, it is said, waked him from a sound sleep when the hour of his execution approached. He had desired to see his wife before he died; but Gardiner told him that he was a priest, and could not possibly have a wife; thus joining insult to cruelty. Rogers was burned in Smithfield.[*]
Hooper, bishop of Glocester, had been tried at the same time with Rogers; but was sent to his own diocese to be executed. This circumstance was contrived to strike the greater terror into his flock; but it was a source of consolation to Hooper, who rejoiced in giving testimony, by his death, to that doctrine which he had formerly preached among them. When he was tied to the stake, a stool was set before him, and the queen's pardon laid upon it, which it was still in his power to merit by a recantation; but he ordered it to be removed, and cheerfully prepared himself for that dreadful punishment to which he was sentenced. He suffered it in its full severity: the wind, which was violent, blew the flame of the reeds from his body: the fagots were green, and did not kindle easily: all his lower parts were consumed before his vitals were attacked: one of his hands dropped off: with the other he continued to beat his breast: he was heard to pray, and to exhort the people; till his tongue, swollen with the violence of his agony, could no longer permit him utterance. He was three quarters of an hour in torture, which he bore with inflexible constancy.[**]
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 119. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 302.

     ** Fox, vol. iii. p. 145, etc. Burnet, vol. ii p. 302,
     Heylin, p. 48, 49. Godwin, p. 349.
Sanders was burned at Coventry: a pardon was also offered him; but he rejected it, and embraced the stake, saying, "Welcome the cross of Christ; welcome everlasting life." Taylor, parson of Hadley, was punished by fire in that place, surrounded by his ancient friends and parishioners. When tied to the stake, he rehearsed a psalm in English: one of his guards struck him on the mouth, and bade him speak Latin: another, in a rage, gave him a blow on the head with his halbert, which happily put an end to his torments.
There was one Philpot, archdeacon of Winchester, inflamed with such zeal for orthodoxy, that having been engaged in dispute with an Arian, he spit in his adversary's face, to show the great detestation which he had entertained against that heresy. He afterwards wrote a treatise to justify this unmannerly expression of zeal: he said, that he was led to it in order to relieve the sorrow conceived from such horrid blasphemy, and to signify how unworthy such a miscreant was of being admitted into the society of any Christian.[*] Philpot was a Protestant; and falling now into the hands of people as zealous as himself, but more powerful, he was condemned to the flames, and suffered at Smithfield. It seems to be almost a general rule, that in all religions, except the true, no man will suffer martyrdom who would not also inflict it willingly on all that differ from him. The same zeal for speculative opinions is the cause of both.
The crime for which almost all the Protestants were condemned, was their refusal to acknowledge the real presence. Gardiner, who had vainly expected that a few examples would strike a terror into the reformers, finding the work daily multiply upon him, devolved the invidious office on others, chiefly on Bonner, a man of profligate manners, and of a brutal character, who seemed to rejoice in the torments of the unhappy sufferers.[**] He sometimes whipped the prisoners with his own hands, till he was tired with the violence of the exercise: he tore out the beard of a weaver who refused to relinquish his religion; and that he might give him a specimen of burning, he held his hand to the candle till the sinews and veins shrunk and burst.[***]
     * Strype, vol iii. p. 261, and Coll. No. 58.

     ** Heylin, p. 47, 48.

     *** Fox, vol. iii. p. 187.
It is needless to be particular in enumerating all the cruelties practised in England during the course of three years that these persecutions lasted: the savage barbarity on the one hand, and the patient constancy on the other, are so similar in all those martyrdoms, that the narrative, little agreeable in itself, would never be relieved by any variety. Human nature appears not on any occasion so detestable, and at the same time so absurd, as in these religious persecutions, which sink men below infernal spirits in wickedness, and below the beasts in folly. A few instances only may be worth preserving, in order, if possible, to warn zealous bigots forever to avoid such odious and such fruitless barbarity.
Ferrar, bishop of St. David's, was burned in his own diocese and his appeal to Cardinal Pole was not attended to.[*] Ridley, bishop of London, and Latimer, formerly bishop of Worcester, two prelates celebrated for learning and virtue, perished together in the same flames at Oxford, and supported each other's constancy by their mutual exhortations. Latimer, when tied to the stake, called to his companion, "Be of good cheer, brother; we shall this day kindle such a torch in England, as, I trust in God, shall never be extinguished." The executioners had been so merciful (for that clemency may more naturally be ascribed to them than to the religious zealots) as to tie bags of gunpowder about these prelates, in order to put a speedy period to their tortures: the explosion immediately killed Latimer, who was in extreme old age; Ridley continued alive during some time in the midst of the flames.[**]
One Hunter, a young man of nineteen, an apprentice, having been seduced by a priest into a dispute, had unwarily denied the real presence. Sensible of his danger, he immediately absconded; but Bonner, laying hold of his father, threatened him with the greatest severities if he did not produce the young man to stand his trial. Hunter, hearing of the vexations to which his father was exposed, voluntarily surrendered himself to Bonner, and was condemned to the flames by that barbarous prelate.
Thomas Haukes, when conducted to the stake, agreed with his friends, that, if he found the torture tolerable, he would make them a signal to that purpose in the midst of the flames. His zeal for the cause in which he suffered so supported him that he stretched out his arms, the signal agreed on; and in that posture he expired.[***] This example, with many others of like constancy, encouraged multitudes not only to suffer, but even to court and aspire to martyrdom.
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 216.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 318. Heylin, p. 52.

     *** Fox, vol. iii. p. 265.
The tender sex itself, as they have commonly greater propensity to religion, produced many examples of the most inflexible courage in supporting the profession of it against all the fury of the persecutors. One execution in particular was attended with circumstances which, even at that time, excited astonishment by reason of their unusual barbarity. A woman in Guernsey, being near the time of her labor when brought to the stake, was thrown into such agitation by the torture, that her belly burst, and she was delivered in the midst of the flames. One of the guards immediately snatched the infant from the fire, and attempted to save it; but a magistrate who stood by ordered it to be thrown back: being determined, he said, that nothing should survive which-sprang from so obstinate and heretical a parent.[*]
The persons condemned to these punishments were not convicted of teaching, or dogmatizing, contrary to the established religion: they were seized merely on suspicion; and articles being offered them to subscribe, they were immediately, upon their refusal, condemned to the flames.[**] These instances of barbarity, so unusual in the nation, excited horror; the constancy of the martyrs was the object of admiration; and as men have a principle of equity engraven in their minds, which even false religion is not able totally to obliterate, they were shocked to see persons of probity, of honor, of pious dispositions, exposed to punishments more severe than were inflicted on the greatest ruffians for crimes subversive of civil society. To exterminate the whole Protestant party was known to be impossible; and nothing could appear more iniquitous, than to subject to torture the most conscientious and courageous among them, and allow the cowards and hypocrites to escape. Each martyrdom, therefore, was equivalent to a hundred sermons against Popery; and men either avoided such horrid spectacles, or returned from them full of a violent, though secret, indignation against the persecutors. Repeated orders were sent from the council to quicken the diligence of the magistrates in searching out heretics; and in some places the gentry were constrained to countenance by their presence those barbarous executions. These acts of violence tended only to render the Spanish government daily more odious; and Philip, sensible of the hatred which he incurred, endeavored to remove the reproach from himself by a very gross artifice: he ordered his confessor to deliver, in his presence, a sermon in favor of toleration; a doctrine somewhat extraordinary in the mouth of a Spanish friar.[***] But the court, finding that Bonner, however shameless and savage, would not bear alone the whole infamy, soon threw off the mask; and the unrelenting temper of the queen, as well as of the king, appeared without control. A bold step was even taken towards introducing the inquisition into England. As the bishops' courts, though extremely arbitrary, and not confined by any ordinary forms of law, appeared not to be invested with sufficient power, a commission was appointed, by authority of the queen's prerogative, more effectually to extirpate heresy.
     * Fox, vol. iii. p. 747. Heylin, p. 57. Burnet, vol. ii. p.
     337.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 306.

     *** Heylin, p. 56.
Twenty-one persons were named; but any three were armed with the powers of the whole. The commission runs in these terms: "That since many false rumors were published among the subjects, and many heretical opinions were also spread among them, the commissioners were to inquire into those, either by presentments, by witnesses, or any other political way they could devise, and to search after all heresies; the bringers in, the sellers, the readers of all heretical books: they were to examine and punish all misbehaviors or negligences in any church or chapel; and to try all priests that did not preach the sacrament of the altar; all persons that did not hear mass, or come to their parish church to service, that would not go in processions, or did not take holy bread or holy water; and if they found any that did obstinately persist in such heresies, they were to put them into the hands of their ordinaries, to be punished according to the spiritual laws; giving the commissioners full power to proceed as their discretions and consciences should direct them, and to use all such means as they would invent for the searching of the premises; empowering them also to call before them such witnesses as they pleased, and to force them to make oath of such things as might discover what they sought after."[*] Some civil powers were also given the commissioners to punish vagabonds and quarrelsome persons.
To bring the methods of proceeding in England still nearer to the practice of the inquisition, letters were written to Lord North and others, enjoining them "to put to the torture such obstinate persons as would not confess, and there to order them at their discretion."[**]
     * Burnet, vol. ii. Coll. 32.

     ** Burnet, vol. iii. p. 243.
Secret spies, also, and informers were employed, according to the practice of that iniquitous tribunal. Instructions were given to the justices of peace—that they should call secretly before them one or two honest persons within their limits, or more, at their discretion, and command them by oath, or otherwise, that they shall secretly learn and search out such persons as shall evil behave themselves in church, or idly, or shall despise openly by words the king's or queen's proceedings, or go about to make any commotion, or tell any seditious tales or news. And also that the same persons, so to be appointed, shall declare to the same justices of peace the ill behavior of lewd disordered persons, whether it shall be for using unlawful games, and such other light behavior of such suspected persons; and that the same information shall be given secretly to the justices; and the same justices shall call such accused persons before them, and examine them, without declaring by whom they were accused. And that the same justices shall, upon their examination, punish the offenders according as their offences shall appear, upon the accusement and examination, by their discretion, either by open punishment or "by good abearing."[*] In some respects this tyrannical edict even exceeded the oppression of the inquisition, by introducing into every part of government the same iniquities which that tribunal practises for the extirpation of heresy only, and which are in some measure necessary, wherever that end is earnestly pursued.
But the court had devised a more expeditious and summary method of supporting orthodoxy than even the inquisition itself. They issued a proclamation against books of heresy treason, and sedition, and declared, "that whosoever had any of these books, and did not presently burn them, without reading them or showing them to any other person, should be esteemed rebels, and without any further delay be executed by martial law."[**] From the state of the English government during that period, it is not so much the illegality of these proceedings, as their violence and their pernicious tendency, which ought to be the object of our censure.
     * Burnet, vol. iii. p. 246, 247.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 363. Heylin, p. 79.
We have thrown together almost all the proceedings against heretics, though carried on during a course of three years, that we may be obliged as little as possible to return to such shocking violences and barbarities. It is computed that in that time two hundred and seventy-seven persons were brought to the stake, besides those who were punished by imprisonment, fines, and confiscations. Among those who suffered by fire were five bishops, twenty-one clergymen, eight lay gentlemen, eighty-four tradesmen, one hundred husbandmen, servants, and laborers, fifty-five women, and four children. This persevering cruelty appears astonishing; yet is it much inferior to what has been practised in other countries. A great author[*] computes that, in the Netherlands alone, from the time that the edict of Charles V. was promulgated against the reformers, there had been fifty thousand persons hanged, beheaded, buried alive, or burnt, on account of religion; and that in France the number had also been considerable. Yet in both countries, as the same author subjoins, the progress of the new opinions instead of being checked, was rather forwarded by these persecutions.
The burning of heretics was a very natural method of reconciling the kingdom to the Romish communion; and little solicitation was requisite to engage the pope to receive the strayed flock, from which he reaped such considerable profit; yet was there a solemn embassy sent to Rome, consisting of Sir Anthony Brown, created Viscount Montacute, the bishop of Ely, and Sir Edward Carne, in order to carry the submissions of England, and beg to be readmitted into the bosom of the Catholic church.[**] Paul IV., after a short interval, now filled the papal chair; the most haughty pontiff that during several ages had been elevated to that dignity. He was offended that Mary still retained among her titles that of queen of Ireland; and he affirmed that it belonged to him alone, as he saw cause, either to erect new kingdoms or abolish the old; but to avoid all dispute with the new converts, he thought proper to erect Ireland into a kingdom, and he then admitted the title, as if it had been assumed from his concession. This was a usual artifice of the popes, to give allowance to what they could not prevent,[***] and afterwards pretend that princes, while they exercised their own powers, were only acting by authority from the papacy. And though Paul had at first intended to oblige Mary formally to recede from this title before he would bestow it upon her, he found it prudent to proceed in a less haughty manner.[****]
     * Father Paul, lib. v.

     ** Heylin, p. 45.

     *** Heylin, p. 45. Father Paul, lib, v.

     **** Father Paul, lib. v.
Another point in discussion between the pope and the English ambassadors was not so easily terminated. Paul insisted that the property and possessions of the church should be restored to the uttermost farthing; that whatever belonged to God could never, by any law, be converted to profane uses; and every person who detained such possessions was in a state of eternal damnation; that he would willingly, in consideration of the humble submissions of the English, make them a present of these ecclesiastical revenues; but such a concession exceeded his power, and the people might be certain that so great a profanation of holy things would be a perpetual anathema upon them, and would blast all their future felicity; that if they would truly show their filial piety, they must restore all the privileges and emoluments of the Romish church, and Peter's pence among the rest; nor could they expect that this apostle would open to them the gates of paradise, while they detained from him his patrimony on earth.[*] These earnest remonstrances being transmitted to England, though they had little influence on the nation, operated powerfully on the queen, who was determined, in order to ease her conscience, to restore all the church lands which were still in the possession of the crown; and the more to display her zeal, she erected anew some convents and monasteries, notwithstanding the low condition of the exchequer.[**] When this measure was debated in council, some members objected, that if such a considerable part of the revenue were dismembered, the dignity of the crown would fall to decay; but the queen replied, that she preferred the salvation of her soul to ten such kingdoms as England.[***] These imprudent measures would not probably have taken place so easily, had it not been for the death of Gardiner, which happened about this time; the great seal was given to Heathe, archbishop of York, that an ecclesiastic might still be possessed of that high office, and be better enabled by his authority to forward the persecutions against the reformed.
These persecutions were now become extremely odious to the nation; and the effects of the public discontent appeared in the new parliament, summoned to meet at Westminster.[****] A bill[v] was passed restoring to the church the tenths and first-fruits, and all the impropriations which remained in the hands of the crown; but though this matter directly concerned none but the queen herself, great opposition was made to the bill in the house of commons.
     * Father Paul, lib. v. Heylin, p. 45.

     ** Dépêches de Noailles, vol. iv. p. 312.

     *** Heylin, p. 53, 65. Holingshed, p. 1127. Speed, p. 826.

     **** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 322.

     v    2 and 3. Phil, and Mar. cap. 4.
An application being made for a subsidy during two years, and for two fifteenths, the latter was refused by the commons; and many members said, that while the crown was thus despoiling itself of its revenue, it was in vain to bestow riches upon it. The parliament rejected a bill for obliging the exiles to return under certain penalties, and another for incapacitating such as were remiss in the prosecution of heresy from being justices of peace. The queen, finding the intractable humor of the commons, thought proper to dissolve the parliament.
The spirit of opposition which began to prevail in parliament was the more likely to be vexatious to Mary, as she was otherwise in very bad humor on account of her husband's absence, who, tired of her importunate love and jealousy, and finding his authority extremely limited in England, had laid hold of the first opportunity to leave her, and had gone over last summer to the emperor in Flanders. The indifference and neglect of Philip, added to the disappointment in her imagined pregnancy, threw her into deep melancholy; and she gave vent to her spleen by daily enforcing the persecutions against the Protestants, and even by expressions of rage against all her subjects; by whom she knew herself to be hated, and whose opposition, in refusing an entire compliance with Philip was the cause, she believed, why he had alienated his affections from her, and afforded her so little of his company.[*]
     * Dépêches de Noailles, vol. v. p. 370, 562.
The less return her love met with, the more it increased; and she passed most of her time in solitude, where she gave vent to her passion, either in tears, or in writing fond epistles to Philip, who seldom returned her any answer, and scarcely deigned to pretend any sentiment of love or even of gratitude towards her. The chief part of government to which she attended, was the extorting of money from her people, in order to satisfy his demands; and as the parliament had granted her but a scanty supply, she had recourse to expedients very violent and irregular. She levied a loan of sixty thousand pounds upon a thousand persons, of whose compliance, either on account of their riches or their affections to her, she held herself best assured: but that sum not sufficing, she exacted a general loan on every one who possessed twenty pounds a year. This imposition lay heavy on the gentry, who were obliged, many of them, to retrench their expenses and dismiss their servants, in order to enable them to comply with her demands: and as these servants, accustomed to idleness, and having no means of subsistence, commonly betook themselves to theft and robbery, the queen published a proclamation, by which she obliged their former masters to take them back to their service. She levied sixty thousand marks on seven thousand yeomen who had not contributed to the former loan; and she exacted thirty-six thousand pounds more from the merchants. In order to engage some Londoners to comply more willingly with her multiplied extortions, she passed an edict prohibiting for four months the exporting of any English cloths or kerseys to the Netherlands; an expedient which procured a good market for such as had already sent any quantity of cloth thither. Her rapaciousness engaged her to give endless disturbance and interruption to commerce. The English company settled in Antwerp having refused her a loan of forty thousand pounds, she dissembled her resentment till she found that they had bought and shipped great quantities of cloth for Antwerp fair, which was approaching: she then laid an embargo on the ships, and obliged the merchants to grant her a loan of the forty thousand pounds at first demanded, to engage for the payment of twenty thousand pounds more at a limited time, and to submit to an arbitrary imposition of twenty shillings on each piece. Some time after, she was informed that the Italian merchants had shipped above forty thousand pieces of cloth for the Levant, for which they were to pay her a crown a piece, the usual imposition: she struck a bargain with the merchant adventurers in London; prohibited the foreigners from making any exportation; and received from the English merchants, in consideration of this iniquity, the sum of fifty thousand pounds, and an imposition of four crowns on each piece of cloth which they should export. She attempted to borrow great sums abroad; but her credit was so low, that though she offered fourteen per cent to the city of Antwerp for a loan of thirty thousand pounds, she could not obtain it till she compelled the city of London to be surety for her.[*] All these violent expedients were employed while she herself was in profound peace with all the world, and had visibly no occasion for money but to supply the demands of a husband who gave attention only to his own convenience, and showed himself entirely indifferent about her interests.
     * Godwin, p. 359. Cowper's Chronicle. Burnet, vol. ii. p.
     359. Carte, p. 330, 333, 337, 341. Strype's Memor vol. iii.
     p. 428, 558. Annals vol. i. p. 15.
Philip was now become master of all the wealth of the new world, and of the richest and most extensive dominions in Europe, by the voluntary resignation of the emperor Charles V.; who, though still in the vigor of his age, had taken a disgust to the world, and was determined to seek, in the tranquillity of retreat, for that happiness which he had in vain pursued amidst the tumults of war and the restless projects of ambition. He summoned the states of the Low Countries and seating himself on the throne for the last time, explained to his subjects the reasons of his resignation, absolved them from all oaths of allegiance, and, devolving his authority on Philip, told him, that his paternal tenderness made him weep when he reflected on the burden which he imposed upon him.[*] He inculcated on him the great and only duty of a prince, the study of his people's happiness; and represented how much preferable it was to govern by affection, rather than by fear, the nations subjected to his dominion. The cool reflections of age now discovered to him the emptiness of his former pursuits; and he found that the vain schemes of extending his empire had been the source of endless opposition and disappointment, and kept himself, his neighbors, and his subjects, in perpetual inquietude, and had frustrated the sole end of government, the felicity of the nations committed to his care; an object which meets with less opposition, and which, if steadily pursued, can alone convey a lasting and solid satisfaction.
     * Thuan. lib. xvi. c. 20.
1556.
A few months after, he resigned to Philip his other dominions; and embarking on board a fleet, sailed to Spain, and took his journey to St. Just, a monastery in Estremadura, which, being situated in a happy climate, and amidst the greatest beauties of nature, he had chosen for the place of his retreat. When he arrived at Burgos, he found, by the thinness of his court, and the negligent attendance of the Spanish grandees, that he was no longer emperor; and though this observation might convince him still more of the vanity of the world, and make him more heartily despise what he had renounced, he sighed to find that all former adulation and obeisance had been paid to his fortune, not to his person. With better reason was he struck with the ingratitude of his son Philip, who obliged him to wait a long time for the payment of the small pension which he had reserved, and this disappointment in his domestic enjoyments gave him a sensible concern. He pursued, however, his resolution with inflexible constancy; and shutting himself up in his retreat, he exerted such self-command, that he restrained even his curiosity from any inquiry concerning the transactions of the world which he had entirely abandoned. The fencing against the pains and infirmities under which he labored occupied a great part of his time; and during the intervals he employed his leisure, either in examining the controversies of theology, with which his age had been so much agitated, and which he had hitherto considered only in a political light, or in imitating the works of renowned artists, particularly in mechanics, of which he had always been a great admirer and encourager. He is said to have here discovered a propensity to the new doctrines, and to have frequently dropped hints of this unexpected alteration in his sentiments. Having amused himself with the construction of clocks and watches, he thence remarked, how impracticable the object was in which he had so much employed himself during his grandeur; and how impossible that he, who never could frame two machines that would go exactly alike, could ever be able to make all mankind concur in the same belief and opinion. He survived his retreat two years.
The emperor Charles had very early in the beginning of his reign found the difficulty of governing such distant dominions; and he had made his brother Ferdinand be elected king of the Romans, with a view to his inheriting the imperial dignity, as well as his German dominions. But having afterwards enlarged his schemes, and formed plans of aggrandizing his family, he regretted that he must dismember such considerable states and he endeavored to engage Ferdinand, by the most tempting offers, and most earnest solicitations, to yield up his pretensions in favor of Philip. Finding his attempts fruitless, he had resigned the imperial crown with his other dignities; and Ferdinand, according to common form, applied to the pope for his coronation. The arrogant pontiff refused the demand; and pretended that, though on the death of an emperor he was obliged to crown the prince elected, yet, in the case of a resignation, the right devolved to the holy see, and it belonged to the pope alone to appoint an emperor. The conduct of Paul was in every thing conformable to these lofty pretensions. He thundered always in the ears of all ambassadors, that he stood in no need of the assistance of any prince; that he was above all potentates on the earth; that he would not accustom monarchs to pretend to a familiarity or equality with him; that it belonged to him to alter and regulate kingdoms; that he was successor of those who had deposed kings and emperors; and that, rather than submit to anything below his dignity, he would set fire to the four corners of the world. He went so far as, at table, in the presence of many persons, and even openly, in a public consistory, to say, that he would not admit any kings for his companions; they were all his subjects, and he would hold them under these feet: so saying, he stamped on the ground with his old and infirm limbs: for he was now past fourscore years of age.[*]
     * Father Paul, lib. v.
The world could not forbear making a comparison between Charles V., a prince who, though educated amidst wars and intrigues of state, had prevented the decline of age, and had descended from the throne, in order to set apart an interval for thought and reflection; and a priest who, in the extremity of old age, exulted in his dominion, and from restless ambition and revenge was throwing all nations into combustion. Paul had entertained the most inveterate animosity against the house of Austria; and though a truce of five years had been concluded between France and Spain, he excited Henry by his solicitations to break it, and promised to assist him in recovering Naples, and the dominions to which he laid claim in Italy; a project which had ever proved hurtful to the predecessors of that monarch. He himself engaged in hostilities with the duke of Alva, viceroy of Naples; and Guise being sent with forces to support him, the renewal of war between the two crowns seemed almost inevitable. Philip, though less warlike than his father, was no less ambitious; and he trusted that, by the intrigues of the cabinet, where, he believed, his caution, and secrecy, and prudence gave him the superiority, he should be able to subdue all his enemies, and extend his authority and dominion. For this reason, as well as from the desire of settling his new empire, he wished to maintain peace with France; but when he found that, without sacrificing his honor, it was impossible for him to overlook the hostile attempts of Henry, he prepared for war with great industry. In order to give himself the more advantage, he was desirous of embarking England in the quarrel; and though the queen was of herself extremely averse to that measure, he hoped that the devoted fondness which, notwithstanding repeated instances of his indifference, she still bore to him, would effectually second his applications. Had the matter indeed depended solely on her, she was incapable of resisting her husband's commands; but she had little weight with her council, still less with her people; and her government, which was every day becoming more odious, seemed unable to maintain itself, even during the most profound tranquillity, much more if a war were kindled with France, and, what seemed an inevitable consequence, with Scotland, supported by that powerful kingdom.
An act of barbarity was this year exercised in England, which, added to many other instances of the same kind, tended to render the government extremely unpopular. Cranmer had long been detained prisoner; but the queen now determined to bring him to punishment; and in order the more fully to satiate her vengeance, she resolved to punish him for heresy, rather than for treason. He was cited by the pope to stand his trial at Rome; and though he was known to be kept in close custody at Oxford, he was, upon his not appearing, condemned as contumacious. Bonner, bishop of London, and Thirleby of Ely, were sent to degrade him; and the former executed the melancholy ceremony with all the joy and exultation which suited his savage nature.[*] The implacable spirit of the queen, not satisfied with the eternal damnation of Cranmer, which she believed inevitable, and with the execution of that dreadful sentence to which he was condemned, prompted her also to seek the ruin of his honor and the infamy of his name. Persons were employed to attack him, not in the way of disputation, against which he was sufficiently armed, but by flattery, insinuation, and address, by representing the dignities to which his character still entitled him, if he would merit them by a recantation; by giving hopes of long enjoying those powerful friends, whom his beneficent disposition had attached to him during the course of his prosperity.[*]
     * Mem. of Cranm. p. 375.

     ** Heylin, p. 55. Mem. p. 383.
Overcome by the fond love of life, terrified by the prospect of those tortures which awaited him, he allowed, in an unguarded hour, the sentiments of nature to prevail over his resolution, and he agreed to subscribe the doctrines of the papal supremacy and of the real presence. The court, equally perfidious and cruel, were determined that this recantation should avail him nothing; and they sent orders that he should be required to acknowledge his errors in church before the whole people, and that he should thence be immediately carried to execution. Cranmer, whether that he had received a secret intimation of their design, or had repented of his weakness, surprised the audience by a contrary declaration. He said, that he was well apprised of the obedience which he owed to his sovereign and the laws; but this duly extended no further than to submit patiently to their commands, and to bear without resistance whatever hardships they should impose upon him: that a superior duty, the duty which he owed to his Maker, obliged him to speak truth on all occasions, and not to relinquish, by a base denial, the holy doctrine which the Supreme Being had revealed to mankind: that there was one miscarriage in his life, of which, above all others, he severely repented; the insincere declaration of faith, to which he had the weakness to consent, and which the fear of death alone had extorted from him: that he took this opportunity of atoning for his error, by a sincere and open recantation; and was willing to seal with his blood that doctrine which he firmly believed to be communicated from Heaven; and that as his hand had erred by betraying his heart, it should first be punished by a severe but just doom, and should first pay the forfeit of its offences. He was thence led to the stake amidst the insults of the Catholics; and having now summoned up all the force of his mind, he bore their scorn, as well as the torture of his punishment, with singular fortitude. He stretched out his hand, and without betraying, either by his countenance or motions, the least sign of weakness, or even of feeling, he held it in the flames till it was entirely consumed. His thoughts seemed wholly occupied with reflections on his former fault; and he called aloud several times, "This hand has offended." Satisfied with that atonement, he then discovered a serenity in his countenance, and when the fire attacked his body, he seemed to be quite insensible of his outward sufferings, and by the force of hope and resolution to have collected his mind altogether within itself, and to repel the fury of the flames. It is pretended, that after his body was consumed, his heart was found entire and untouched amidst the ashes; an event which, as it was the emblem of his constancy, was fondly believed by the zealous Protestants.
He was undoubtedly a man of merit; possessed of learning and capacity, and adorned with candor, sincerity, and beneficence, and all those virtues which were fitted to render him useful and amiable in society. His moral qualities procured him universal respect; and the courage of his martyrdom, though he fell short of the rigid inflexibility observed in many, made him the hero of the Protestant party.[*]
After Cranmer's death, Cardinal Pole, who had now taken priest's orders, was installed in the see of Canterbury; and was thus, by this office, as well as by his commission of legate, placed at the head of the church of England. But though he was averse to all sanguinary methods of converting heretics, and deemed the reformation of the clergy the more effectual, as the more laudable expedient for that purpose,[**] he found his authority too weak to oppose the barbarous and bigoted disposition of the queen and of her counsellors. He himself, he knew, had been suspected of Lutheranism; and as Paul, the reigning pope, was a furious persecutor, and his personal enemy, he was prompted, by the modesty of his disposition, to reserve his credit for other occasions, in which he had a greater probability of success.[***]
     * Burnet, vol. ii. p. 331, 332, etc. Godwin, p. 352.

     ** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 324, 325.

     *** Heylin, p. 68, 69. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 327
1557.
The great object of the queen was to engage the nation in the war which was kindled between France and Spain; and Cardinal Pole, with many other counsellors, openly and zealously opposed this measure. Besides insisting on the marriage articles, which provided against such an attempt, they represented the violence of the domestic factions in England, and the disordered state of the finances; and they foreboded, that the tendency of all these measures was to reduce the kingdom to a total dependence on Spanish counsels. Philip had come to London, in order to support his partisans; and he told the queen that, if he were not gratified in so reasonable a request, he never more would set foot in England. This declaration extremely heightened her zeal for promoting his interests, and overcoming the inflexibility of her council. After employing other menaces of a more violent nature, she threatened to dismiss all of them, and to appoint counsellors more obsequious; yet could she not procure a vote for declaring war with France. At length, one Stafford, and some other conspirators, were detected in a design of surprising Scarborough;[*] and a confession being extorted from them, that they had been encouraged by Henry in the attempt, the queen's importunity prevailed; and it was determined to make this act of hostility, with others of a like secret and doubtful nature, the ground of the quarrel. War was accordingly declared against France; and preparations were every where made for attacking that kingdom.
The revenue of England at that time little exceeded three hundred thousand pounds.[**] Any considerable supplies could scarcely be expected from parliament, considering the present disposition of the nation; and as the war would sensibly diminish that branch arising from the customs, the finances, it was foreseen, would fall short even of the ordinary charges of government, and must still more prove unequal to the expenses of war. But though the queen owed great arrears to all her servants, besides the loans extorted from her subjects, these considerations had no influence with her; and in order to support her warlike preparations, she continued to levy money in the same arbitrary and violent manner which she had formerly practised. She obliged the city of London to supply her with sixty thousand pounds on her husband's entry; she levied before the legal time the second year's subsidy voted by parliament; she issued anew many privy seals, by which she procured loans from her people; and having equipped a fleet, which she could not victual by reason of the dearness of provisions, she seized all the corn she could find in Suffolk and Norfolk, without paying any price to the owners. By all these expedients, assisted by the power of pressing, she levied an army of ten thousand men, which she sent over to the Low Countries, under the command of the earl of Pembroke. Meanwhile, in order to prevent any disturbance at home, many of the most considerable gentry were thrown into the Tower; and lest they should be known, the Spanish practice was followed: they either were carried thither in the night-time, or were hoodwinked and muffled by the guards who conducted them.[***]
     * Heylin, p. 72. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 351. Sir James Melvil's
     Memoirs.

     ** Rossi, Successi d'Inghilterra.

     *** Strype's Eccles. Memorials, vol. iii. 377
The king of Spain had assembled an army, which, after the junction of the English, amounted to above sixty thousand men, conducted by Philibert, duke of Savoy, one of the greatest captains of the age. The constable Montmorency, who commanded the French army, had not half the number to oppose to him. The duke of Savoy, after menacing Mariembourgh and Rocroy, suddenly sat down before St. Quintin: and as the place was weak, and ill provided with a garrison, he expected in a few days to become master of it. But Admiral Coligny, governor of the province, thinking his honor interested to save so important a fortress, threw himself into St. Quintin, with some troops of French and Scottish gensdarmery; and by his exhortations and example animated the soldiers to a vigorous defence. He despatched a messenger to his uncle Montmorency, desiring a supply of men; and the constable approached the place with his whole army, in order to facilitate the entry of these succors. But the duke of Savoy, falling on the reënforcement, did such execution upon them, that not above five hundred got into the place. He next made an attack on the French army, and put them to total rout, killing four thousand men, and dispersing the remainder. In this unfortunate action many of the chief nobility of France were either slain or taken prisoners: among the latter was the old constable himself, who, fighting valiantly, and resolute to die rather than survive his defeat, was surrounded by the enemy, and thus fell alive into their hands. The whole kingdom of France was thrown into consternation: Paris was attempted to be fortified in a hurry: and had the Spaniards presently marched thither, it could not have failed to fall into their hands. But Philip was of a cautious temper; and he determined first to take St. Quintin, in order to secure a communication with his own dominions. A very little time, it was expected, would finish this enterprise; but the bravery of Coligny still prolonged the siege seventeen days, which proved the safety of France. Some troops were levied and assembled. Couriers were sent to recall the duke of Guise and his army from Italy: and the French, having recovered from their first panic, put themselves in a posture of defence. Philip, after taking Ham and Catelet, found the season so far advanced, that he could attempt no other enterprise: he broke up his camp, and retired to winter quarters.
But the vigilant activity of Guise, not satisfied with securing the frontiers, prompted him, in the depth of winter, to plan an enterprise which France, during her greatest successes, had always regarded as impracticable, and had never thought of undertaking. Calais was in that age deemed an impregnable fortress; and as it was known to be the favorite of the English nation, by whom it could easily be succored, the recovery of that place by France was considered as totally desperate. But Coligny had remarked, that as the town of Calais was surrounded with marshes, which during the winter were impassable, except over a dike guarded by two castles, St. Agatha and Newnam Bridge, the English were of late accustomed, on account of the lowness of their finances, to dismiss a great part of the garrison at the end of autumn, and to recall them in the spring, at which time alone they judged their attendance necessary. On this circumstance he had founded the design of making a sudden attack on Calais; he had caused the place to be secretly viewed by some engineers; and a plan of the whole enterprise being found among his papers, it served, though he himself was made prisoner on the taking of St. Quintin, to suggest the project of that undertaking, and to direct the measures of the duke of Guise.
Several bodies of troops defiled towards the frontiers on various pretences; and the whole, being suddenly assembled, formed an army, with which Guise made an unexpected march towards Calais. At the same time, a great number of French ships, being ordered into the Channel, under color of cruising on the English, composed a fleet which made an attack by sea on the fortifications. The French assaulted St. Agatha with three thousand arquebusiers; and the garrison, though they made a vigorous defence, were soon obliged to abandon the place, and retreat to Newnam Bridge. The siege of this latter place was immediately undertaken, and at the same time the fleet battered the risbank, which guarded the entrance of the harbor; and both these castles seemed exposed to imminent danger. The governor, Lord Wentworth, was a brave officer; but finding that the greater part of his weak garrison was enclosed in the castle of Newnam Bridge and the risbank, he ordered them to capitulate, and to join him in Calais, which, without their assistance, he was utterly unable to defend. The garrison of Newnam Bridge was so happy as to effect this purpose; but that of the risbank could not obtain such favorable conditions, and were obliged to surrender at discretion.
1558.
The duke of Guise, now holding Calais blockaded by sea and land, thought himself secure of succeeding in his enterprise; but in order to prevent all accident, be delayed not a moment the attack of the place. He planted his batteries against the castle, where he made a large breach; and having ordered Andelot, Coligny's brother, to drain the fossée, he commanded an assault, which succeeded; and the French made a lodgement in the castle. On the night following, Wentworth attempted to recover this post; but having lost two hundred men in a furious attack which he made upon it,[*] he found his garrison so weak, that he was obliged to capitulate. Ham and Guisnes fell soon after; and thus the duke of Guise, in eight days, during the depth of winter, made himself master of this strong fortress, that had cost Edward III. a siege of eleven months, at the head of a numerous army, which had that very year been victorious in the battle of Crecy. The English had held it above two hundred years; and as it gave them an easy entrance into France, it was regarded as the most important possession belonging to the crown. The joy of the French was extreme, as well as the glory acquired by Guise; who, at the time when all Europe imagined France to be sunk by the unfortunate battle of St. Quintin, had, in opposition to the English, and their allies the Spaniards, acquired possession of a place which no former king of France, even during the distractions of the civil wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, had ever ventured to attempt. The English, on the other hand, bereaved of this valuable fortress, murmured loudly against the improvidence of the queen and her council; who, after engaging in a fruitless war for the sake of foreign interests, had thus exposed the nation to so severe a disgrace. A treasury exhausted by expenses, and burdened with debts; a people divided and dejected; a sovereign negligent of her people's welfare; were circumstances which, notwithstanding the fair offers and promises of Philip, gave them small hopes of recovering Calais. And as the Scots, instigated by French counsels, began to move on the borders, they were now necessitated rather to look to their defence at home, than to think of foreign conquests.
     * Thuan. lib. xx. cap. 2.
After the peace which, in consequence of King Edward's treaty with Henry, took place between Scotland and England, the queen dowager, on pretence of visiting her daughter and her relations, made a journey to France; and she carried along with her the earls of Huntley, Sutherland, Marischal, and many of the principal nobility. Her secret design was, to take measures for engaging the earl of Arran to resign to her the government of the kingdom; and as her brothers, the duke of Guise, the cardinal of Lorraine, and the duke of Aumale, had uncontrolled influence in the court of France, she easily persuaded Henry, and by his authority the Scottish nobles, to enter into her measures. Having also gained Carnegy of Kinnaird, Panter, bishop of Ross, and Gavin Hamilton, commendator of Kilwinning, three creatures of the governor's, she persuaded him, by their means, to consent to this resignation;[*] and when every thing was thus prepared for her purpose, she took a journey to Scotland, and passed through England in her way thither. Edward received her with great respect and civility; though he could not forbear attempting to renew the old treaty for his marriage with her daughter; a marriage, he said, so happily calculated for the tranquillity, interest, and security of both kingdoms, and the only means of insuring a durable peace between them. For his part, he added, he never could entertain a cordial amity for any other husband whom she should choose; nor was it easy for him to forgive a man who, at the same time that he disappointed so natural an alliance, had bereaved him of a bride to whom his affections, from his earliest infancy, had been entirely engaged. The queen dowager eluded these applications, by telling him, that if any measures had been taken disagreeable to him, they were entirely owing to the imprudence of the duke of Somerset, who, instead of employing courtesy, caresses, and gentle offices, the proper means of gaining a young princess, had had recourse to arms and violence, and had constrained the Scottish nobility to send their sovereign into France, in order to interest that kingdom in protecting their liberty and independence.[**]
     * Buchanan, lib. xiv. Keith, p. 56. Spotswood, p. 92.

     ** Keith, p. 59.
When the queen dowager arrived in Scotland, she found the governor very unwilling to fulfil his engagements; and it was not till after many delays that he could be persuaded to resign his authority. But finding that the majority of the young princess was approaching, and that the queen dowager had gained the affections of all the principal nobility, he thought it more prudent to submit; and having stipulated that he should be declared next heir to the crown, and should be freed from giving any account of his past administration, he placed her in possession of the power, and she thenceforth assumed the name of regent.[*] It was a usual saying of this princess, that, provided she could render her friends happy, and could insure to herself a good reputation, she was entirely indifferent what befell her; and though this sentiment is greatly censured by the zealous reformers,[**] as being founded wholly on secular motives, it discovers a mind well calculated for the government of kingdoms. D'Oisel, a Frenchman, celebrated for capacity, had attended her as ambassador from Henry, but in reality to assist her with his counsels in so delicate an undertaking as the administration of Scotland; and this man had formed a scheme for laying a general tax on the kingdom, in order to support a standing military force, which might at once repel the inroads of foreign enemies, and check the turbulence of the Scottish nobles. But though some of the courtiers were gained over to this project, it gave great and general discontent to the nation; and the queen regent, after ingenuously confessing that it would prove pernicious to the kingdom, had the prudence to desist from it, and to trust entirely for her security to the good will and affections of her subjects.[***]
This laudable purpose seemed to be the chief object of her administration; yet was she sometimes drawn from it by her connections with France, and by the influence which her brothers had acquired over her. When Mary commenced hostilities against that kingdom, Henry required the queen regent to take part in the quarrel; and she summoned a convention of states at Newbottle, and requested them to concur in a declaration of war against England. The Scottish nobles, who were become as jealous of French as the English were of Spanish influence, refused their assent; and the queen was obliged to have recourse to stratagem in order to effect her purpose. She ordered D'Oisel to begin some fortifications at Eyemouth, a place which had been dismantled by the last treaty with Edward; and when the garrison of Berwick, as she foresaw, made an inroad to prevent the undertaking, she effectually employed this pretence to inflame the Scottish nation, and to engage them in hostilities against England.[****]
     * 12th April, 1554.

     ** Knox, p. 89.

     *** Keith, p. 70. Buchanan, lib. xvi.

     **** Buchanan, lib. xvi. Thuan. lib. xix. c. 7.
The enterprises however, of the Scots proceeded no farther than some inroads on the borders: when D'Oisel of himself conducted artillery and troops to besiege the Castle of Werke, he was recalled, and sharply rebuked by the council.[*]
     * Knox. p. 93.
In order to connect Scotland more closely with France, and to increase the influence of the latter kingdom, it was thought proper by Henry to celebrate the marriage between the young queen and the dauphin; and a deputation was sent by the Scottish parliament to assist at the ceremony, and to settle the terms of the contract.
The close alliance between France and Scotland threatened very nearly the repose and security of Mary; and it was foreseen, that though the factions and disorders which might naturally be expected in the Scottish government during the absence of the sovereign, would make its power less formidable, that kingdom would at least afford to the French a means of invading England. The queen, therefore, found it necessary to summon a parliament, and to demand of them some supplies to her exhausted exchequer. As such an emergency usually gives great advantage to the people; and as the parliaments during this reign had shown that, where the liberty and independency of the kingdom were menaced with imminent danger, they were not entirely overawed by the court; we shall naturally expect that the late arbitrary methods of extorting money should at least be censured, and perhaps some remedy be for the future provided against them. The commons, however, without making any reflections on the past, voted, besides a fifteenth, a subsidy of four shillings in the pound on land, and two shillings and eightpence on goods. The clergy granted eight shillings in the pound, payable, as was also the subsidy of the laity, in four years by equal portions.
The parliament also passed an act, confirming all the sales and grants of crown lands, which either were already made by the queen, or should be made during the seven ensuing years. It was easy to foresee that, in Mary's present disposition and situation, this power would be followed by a great alienation of the royal demesnes; and nothing could be more contrary to the principles of good government, than to establish a prince with very extensive authority, yet permit him to be reduced to beggary. This act met with opposition in the house of commons. One Copely expressed his fears lest the queen, under color of the power there granted, might alter the succession, and alienate the crown from the lawful heir; but his words were thought "irreverent" to her majesty: he was committed to the custody of the serjeant at arms, and though he expressed sorrow for his offence, he was not released till the queen was applied to for his pardon.
The English nation, during this whole reign, were under great apprehensions with regard not only to the succession, but the life of the lady Elizabeth. The violent hatred which the queen bore to her broke out on every occasion; and it required all the authority of Philip, as well as her own great prudence, to prevent the fatal effects of it. The princess retired into the country, and knowing that she was surrounded with spies, she passed her time wholly in reading and study, intermeddled in no business, and saw very little company. While she remained in this situation, which for the present was melancholy, but which prepared her mind for those great actions by which her life was afterwards so much distinguished, proposals of marriage were made to her by the Swedish Ambassador, in his master's name. As her first question was, whether the queen had been informed of these proposals, the ambassador told her, that his master thought, as he was a gentleman, it was his duty first to make his addresses to herself, and having obtained her consent, he would next, as a king, apply to her sister. But the princess would allow him to proceed no further; and the queen, after thanking her for this instance of duty, desired to know how she stood affected to the Swedish proposals. Elizabeth, though exposed to many present dangers and mortifications, had the magnanimity to reserve herself for better fortune; and she covered her refusal with professions of a passionate attachment to a single life, which, she said, she infinitely preferred before any other.[*] The princess showed like prudence in concealing her sentiments of religion, in complying with the present modes of worship, and in eluding all questions with regard to that delicate subject.[**]
     * Burnet, vol. ii. Coll. No. 37.

     ** The common net at that time, says Sir Richard Baker, for
     catching of Protestants, was the real presence; and this net
     was used to catch the lady Elizabeth; for being asked, one
     time, what she thought of the words of Christ. "This is my
     body," whether she thought it the true body of Christ that
     was in the sacrament, it is said that, after some pausing,
     she thus answered:—

     "Christ was the word that spake it;
     He took the bread and brake it;
     And what the word did make it,
     That I believe, and take it."

     Which, though it may seem but a slight expression, yet hath
     it more solidness than at first sight appears; at least, it
     served her turn, at that time, to escape the net, which, by
     a direct answer, she could not have done. Baker's Chronicle,
     p. 320.
The money granted by parliament enabled the queen to fit out a fleet of a hundred and forty sail, which, being joined by thirty Flemish ships, and carrying six thousand land forces on board, was sent to make an attempt on the coast of Brittany. The fleet was commanded by Lord Clinton; the land forces by the earls of Huntingdon and Rutland. But the equipment of the fleet and army was so dilatory that the French got intelligence of the design, and were prepared to receive them. The English found Brest so well guarded as to render an attempt on that place impracticable; but, landing at Conquet, they plundered and burnt the town, with some adjacent villages, and were proceeding to commit greater disorders, when Kersimon, a Breton gentleman, at the head of some militia, fell upon them, put them to rout, and drove them to their ships with considerable loss. But a small squadron of ten English ships had an opportunity of amply revenging this disgrace upon the French. The mareschal de Thermes, governor of Calais, had made an irruption into Flanders, with an army of fourteen thousand men, and, having forced a passage over the River Aa, had taken Dunkirk and Berg St. Winoc, and had advanced as far as Newport; but Count Egmont coming suddenly upon him with superior forces, he was obliged to retreat; and being overtaken by the Spaniards near Gravelines, and finding a battle inevitable, he chose very skilfully his ground for the engagement. He fortified his left wing with all the precautions possible, and posted his right along the River Aa, which, he reasonably thought, gave him full security from that quarter. But the English ships, which were accidently on the coast, being drawn by the noise of the firing, sailed up the river, and, flanking the French, did such execution by their artillery that they put them to flight, and the Spaniards gained a complete victory.[*]
     * Holigshed, p. 1150.
Meanwhile the principal army of France under the duke of Guise, and that of Spain under the duke of Savoy, approached each other on the frontiers of Picardy; and as the two kings had come into their respective camps, attended by the flower of their nobility, men expected that some great and important event would follow from the emulation of these warlike nations. But Philip, though actuated by the ambition, possessed not the enterprising genius of a conqueror; and he was willing, notwithstanding the superiority of his numbers, and the two great victories which he had gained at St. Quintin and Gravelines, to put a period to the war by treaty. Negotiations were entered into for that purpose; and as the terms offered by the two monarchs were somewhat wide of each other, the armies were put into winter quarters till the princes could come to better agreement. Among other conditions, Henry demanded the restitution of Navarre to its lawful owner; Philip, that of Calais and its territory to England; but in the midst of these negotiations, news arrived of the death of Mary; and Philip, no longer connected with England, began to relax in his firmness on that capital article. This was the only circumstance that could have made the death of that princess be regretted by the nation.
Mary had long been in a declining state of health; and having mistaken her dropsy for a pregnancy, she had made use of an improper regimen, and her malady daily augmented. Every reflection now tormented her. The consciousness of being hated by her subjects, the prospect of Elizabeth's succession, apprehensions of the danger to which the Catholic religion stood exposed, dejection for the loss of Calais, concern for the ill state of her affairs, and, above all, anxiety for the absence of her husband, who, she knew, intended soon to depart for Spain, and to settle there during the remainder of his life,—all these melancholy reflections preyed upon her mind, and threw her into a lingering fever, of which she died, after a short and unfortunate reign of five years four months and eleven days.
It is not necessary to employ many words in drawing the character of this princess. She possessed few qualities either estimable or amiable; and her person was as little engaging as her behavior and address. Obstinacy, bigotry, violence, cruelty, malignity, revenge, tyranny; every circumstance of her character took a tincture from her bad temper and narrow understanding. And amidst that complication of vices which entered into her composition, we shall scarcely find any virtue but sincerity; a quality which she seems to have maintained throughout her whole life; except in the beginning of her reign, when the necessity of her affairs obliged her to make some promises to the Protestants, which she certainly never intended to perform. But in these cases a weak, bigoted woman, under the government of priests, easily finds casuistry sufficient to justify to herself the violation of a promise. She appears, also, as well as her father, to have been susceptible of some attachments of friendship; and that without the caprice and inconstancy which were so remarkable in the conduct of that monarch. To which we may add, that in many circumstances of her life she gave indications of resolution and vigor of mind, a quality which seems to have been inherent in her family.
Cardinal Pole had long been sickly from an intermitting fever; and he died the same day with the queen, about sixteen hours after her. The benign character of this prelate, the modesty and humanity of his deportment, made him be universally beloved; insomuch that in a nation where the most furious persecution was carried on, and where the most violent religious factions prevailed, entire justice, even by most of the reformers, has been done to his merit. The haughty pontiff, Paul IV., had entertained some prejudices against him; and when England declared war against Henry, the ally of that pope, he seized the opportunity of revenge; and revoking Pole's legatine commission, appointed in his room Cardinal Peyto, an Observantine friar, and confessor to the queen. But Mary would never permit the new legate to act upon the commission; and Paul was afterwards obliged to restore Cardinal Pole to his authority.
There occur few general remarks, besides what have already been made in the course of our narration, with regard to the general state of the kingdom during this reign. The naval power of England was then so inconsiderable, that fourteen thousand pounds being ordered to be applied to the fleet, both for repairing and victualling it, it was computed that ten thousand pounds a year would afterwards answer all necessary charges.[*]
     * Burnet, vol. iii. p. 259.
The arbitrary proceedings of the queen above mentioned, joined to many monopolies granted by this princess, as well as by her father, checked the growth of commerce; and so much the more, as all other princes in Europe either were not permitted, or did not find it necessary, to proceed in so tyrannical a manner. Acts of parliament, both in the last reign and in the beginning of the present, had laid the same impositions on the merchants of the still-yard as on other aliens; yet the queen, immediately after her marriage, complied with the solicitations of the emperor, and by her prerogative suspended those laws.[*] Nobody in that age pretended to question this exercise of prerogative. The historians are entirely silent with regard to it; and it is only by the collection of public papers that it is handed down to us.
An absurd law had been made in the preceding reign, by which every one was prohibited from making cloth unless he had served an apprenticeship of seven years. The law was repealed in the first year of the queen; and this plain reason given, that it had occasioned the decay of the woollen manufacture, and had ruined several towns.[**] It is strange that Edward's law should have been revived during the reign of Elizabeth; and still more strange that it should still subsist.
A passage to Archangel had been discovered by the English during the last reign; and a beneficial trade with Muscovy had been established. A solemn embassy was sent by the czar to Queen Mary. The ambassadors were shipwrecked on the coast of Scotland; but being hospitably entertained there, they proceeded on the journey, and were received at London with great pomp and solemnity.[***] This seems to have been the first intercourse which that empire had with any of the western potentates of Europe.
A law was passed in this reign,[****] by which the number of horses, arms and furniture, was fixed which each person, according to the extent of his property, should be provided with for the defence of the kingdom. A man of a thousand pounds a year, for instance, was obliged to maintain at his own charge six horses fit for demi-lances, of which three at least to be furnished with sufficient harness, steel saddles, and weapons proper for the demi-lances; and ten horses fit for light horsemen, with furniture and weapons proper for them: he was obliged to have forty corselets furnished; fifty almain revets, or, instead of them, forty coats of plate, corse, etc. or brigandines furnished; forty pikes, thirty long bows, thirty sheafs of arrows, thirty steel caps or skulls, twenty black bills or halberts, twenty harquebuts, and twenty morions or sallets. We may remark that a man of a thousand marks of stock was rated equal to one of two hundred pounds a year; a proof that few or none at that time lived on their stock in money, and that great profits were made by the merchants in the course of trade. There is no class above a thousand pounds a year.
     * Rymer, vol. xv. p. 364.

     ** 1 Mar. Parl. 2, cap, 7.

     *** Holingshed, p. 732. Heylin, p. 71.

     **** 4 and 5 Phil. and Mar. cap. 2.
We pay form a notion of the little progress made in arts and refinement about this time, from one circumstance; a man of no less rank than the comptroller of Edward VI.'s household paid only thirty shillings a year of our present money for his house in Channel Row;[*] yet labor and provisons, and consequently houses, were only about a third of the present price. Erasmus ascribes the frequent plagues in England to the nastiness, and dirt, and slovenly habits among the people. "The floors," says he, "are commonly of clay, strewed with rushes, under which lies unmolested an ancient collection of beer, grease, fragments, bones, spittle, excrements of dogs and cats, and every thing that is nasty."[**]
Holingshed, who lived in Queen Elizabeth's reign, gives a very curious account of the plain, or rather rude way of living of the preceding generation. There scarcely was a chimney to the houses, even in considerable towns; the fire was kindled by the wall, and the smoke sought its way out at the roof, or door, or windows: the houses were nothing but watling plastered over with clay; the people slept on straw pallets, and had a good round log under their head for a pillow; and almost all the furniture and utensils were of wood.[***] 22
In this reign we find the first general law with regard to highways, which were appointed to be repaired by parish duty all over England.[****]
     * Nicholson's Historical Library.

     ** Erasm. Epist. 482.

     *** See note V, at the end of the volume.

     **** 2 and 3 Phil. and Mar. cap. 8.