• One of the grooms of her chamber, and a gentleman of great im^rartance in this species of negotiation. ■ Lwlge's lilustratiowg. 686 ELIZABETH. much pestered with these pearls, which he dared not present again, because his wife's gentlewoman and his mother-in- law's gentle\7oman were both ill with the smallpox, — an effectual bai to the presence of the queen, though she had had the disease long ago. Whether Robert Cecil became the means of introducing the pearls once more to the queen, or what became of them, cannot be traced. It was during the absence of Essex, on this last expedi- tion, in July 1597, that Elizabeth gave Paulus Jaline, the handsome and audacious ambassador of Sigismund king of Poland, so notable a sample of her high spirit and fluent powers of scolding extemporaneously in Latin, in reply to his diplomatic insolence. The Et.ory is related with much humour by Speed, in his quaint style, and also by sir Robert Cecil,* in a letter to Essex. Sir Robert Cecil had the good fortune of being a witness of this rich scene, which he details with great spirit. Her majesty was well disposed to render the king of Poland honourable tokens of her good-will, out of respect for his father, the late king of Sweden, who, when duke of Finland, had been a suitor for her hand ; and being especially pleased with the report of the comeliness and accomplishments of the ambassador, she prepared herself to receive him with great solemnity, before her court and council, in her presence-chamber at Greenwich. He was brought in, attired in a long robe of black velvet, well but- toned and jewelled, and came to kiss her majesty's hand, where she sat under her canopy of state. Having performed all ceremonials proper to the occasion with peculiar grace, he retreated about three yards, " and then," continues Cecil, "began his oration aloud, in Latin, with such a gallant countenance as I never in my life beheld." The oration, however, to which her majesty had so graciously prepared herself to listen before a large assembly of her nobles and courtiers, was neither more nor less than a bold remon- Btrance, in the name of tht iicwly elected sovereign of Poland, against Elizabeth's assumption of maritime superiority over other nations, to which, he sp.id, her position in Europe gave * Lanstlowne MSS. No. 85, vol. xix. ELIZABETH. 687 lot present mother-in- illpox, — an ^h she had cil became the queen, ist expedi- Jaline, the nd king of and fluent n reply to /nth much sir Robert i the good L he details I to render ►d-will, out who, when and being liness and herself to court and He was , well but- sty's hand, performed iliar grace, aiies Cecil, a gallant le oration, prepared lobles and Id remon- of Poland, iority over iirope gave her no ostensible pretension. He also complained of her having, on account of her wars with Spain, interrupted the commerce of that country with Poland, called upon her to redress the losses which their merchants had suffered in consequence of her foreign policy, and concluded by inform- ing her, that his master, having entered into a matrimonial alUance with the house of Austria, was resolved to put up with these wrongs no longer, and therefore, unless she thought proper to take immediate steps to redress them, he would." ^ At T!\e termination of an address so different from the agreeable strain of compliment which she had anticipated from the comely envoy, Elizabeth, who was not of a disposi- tion to brook tamely an affront from the mightiest prince in Christendom, started from her chair of state, and pre- venting the lord chancellor, who had risen to reply to this harangue, she overwhelmed the astonished diplomatist with such a vivacious vituperation, in extempore Latin, as per- haps was never before delivered in that majestic language, of which the sense is as follows : — " Is this the business that your king has sent you about ? Surely, I can hardly believe that if the king himself were present, he would have used such language. For, if he should, I must have thought that he, being a king not of many years, and that not by right of blood but by right of election, they, haply, have not informed him of that course which his father and ancestors have taken with us, and which, peradventure, shall be observed by those that shall live to come after him. fol. 1200. 688 ELIZABETH. of your negotiations, we will appoint some of our council to confer with you, to see upon what grounds this clamour of yours has its foundation, who have showed yourself rather a herald than an ambassador." " And thus," says old Speed, " lion-like rising, she daunt- ed the malapert orator no less with her stately port and majestical departure, than with the tartness of her princely checks ; and, turning to her coiirt, exclaimed, ' God's death, my lords !' (for that was ever her oath in anger,) ' I have been enforced this day to scour up my old Latin, that hath lain long rusting.'" Her majesty told sir Robert Cecil, " that she was sorry Essex heard not her Latin that day," and Cecil promised to write a full account of it to the absent favourite.. It was not always that Elizabeth's intercourse with the representatives of foreign princes was of so stem a character, and if we may credit the reports of some of those gentlemen- her deportment towards them, in private audiences, occa- sionally transgressed both the delicacy of a gentlewoman and the dignity of a queen. It is related of her, that in the midst of an important political conference with the French ambassador, Harlai, she endeavoured to distract his attention from the interests of his royal master by displaying, as if by accident, the elegant proportions of her finely-turned ankle;* on which the audacious plenipotentiary dropped. on one knee, and passionately saluting the graceful limb that was so coquettishly revealed, laid his hand on his heart, and exclaimed, with a deep sigh, " Ah, madame, if the king, my master, had but been in my place !" and then resumed the diplomatic discussion as coolly as if no such interesting interruption had occurred. Such instances of levity as the above, and the well-authenticated fact of her indulging James Melville, when she was five-and-tw enty years younger, with a sight of her unbraided tresses, remo>dng cauls, fillets, jewels, and all other confinements, and allowing them to fall at full length about her stately form, and then demanding " if the queen of Scots could boast of such a head of hair?" while 1 Houssoie's Memoires Historiques. fi ELIZABETH; 689 3s, occa- tliey excite a smile, must strike every one as singular traits of vanity and weakness in a princess of her masculine intel- lect. Mauvissiero «).nd Sully were impressed with her wisdom and profound judgment, but it was not with those grave statesmen that she felt any temptation to indulge in flip- pancy which might remind persons of reflection of those characteristics which had been imputed to her unfortunate mother. It is impossible for any one to study the personal history of Elizabeth without tracing a singular compoimd of the qualities of both her parents. This year a crazy scrivener of Greenwich, named Squires, was accused of the absurdity of attempting to take away the queen's life by the new and diabolical means of poisoning the pommel of her saddle, at the instigation of Walpole, the Jesuit. This Squires had fitted out a pinnace privateer at his own expense, and, when on a piratical expedition, was taken prisoner, and lodged in the Spanish inquisition, where he was tortured into a great afiection for the church of Rome, and became a convert to that creed. Walpole obtained the hberty of Squires, on the condition of his imbuing the pommel of her majesty's saddle with a poison which he gave him in a bladder. This poison was of so subtle a nature, that if her majesty raised her hand to her lips or nose after resting it on the envenomed pommel, it was expected that she would instantly drop down dead.^ Squires having undertaken this marvellous commission, approached her majesty's horse when it was led forth from the stable, of which it seems he had the entree, having once filled the office of under-groom : he then pricked the bladder with a pin, and shed the poison on the pommel, crying " God save the queen !" at the same time, to disarm suspicion. Eliza- beth mounted, and receiving no ill from the medication of her saddle, Squires imagined that her life was miraculously preserved, and determined to employ the rest of his malign nostrum for the destruction of the earl of Essex, who was then preparing to sail on the expedition against the Spanish fleet. Accordingly, he entered on board the earl's ship as 1 CamdoQ. VOL. IV. y Y 690 ELIZABETH. a volunteer, and by that means obtained an opportunity of rubbing the arms of his lordship's chair with the poison, which had, however, no more effect on either chair or earl than if it had been the usual pohshing compound of turpentine and wax. But Walpole was so provoked at the failure of his scheme, that he suborned a person of the name of Stanley to denounce the treason of Squires to the council; and Squires, in turn, after five hours on the rack, denounced Walpole as his instigator. Stanley was also tortured, and confessed that he l^ad been sent by one of the Spanish ministers to shoot the queen. Wrlpole, who probably had nothing to do with the hallucination which had taken posses- sion of the pirate scrivener's brain, being out of the realm, published a pamphlet denying the accusation, and endeavour- ing to explain the absurdity of the whole affair.* The wretched Squires suffered the usual penalty for devising the death of the queen, being convicted On his own confession. Such are the fallacies of evidence obtained by torture, that a man would rather confess himself guilty of an impossible crime, than endure farther inflictions. How much more readily might such a person have been induced to purchase ease by de- nouncing another, if required ! Essex was now so completely restored to the good graces of the queen, that he even ventured on the experiment of attempting to bring his mother, who had been in disgrace with her royal kinswoman ever since her marriage with Leicester, to court once more. Elizabeth did not refuse to receive her, but tantalized both mother and son by appoint- ing a place and hour convenient for the interview, and then, when the time came, sent an excuse : this she did repeatedly. There were then attempts made by lady Leicester to meet her majesty at the houses of her friends, but there Elizabeth also made a point of disappointing her little project. " On Shrove-Monday," says Rowland Whyte, "the queen was per- suaded to go to Mr. comptroller's, and there was my lady Leicester, with a fair jewel of 300/. A great dinner was pre- pared by my lady Shandos, and the queen's coach ready, ' Camdfn. !L ELIZABETH. 691 rtunity of le poison, chair or ipound of ed at the the name e council; Lenounced uredj and } Spanish bably had en posses- :he reahn, ndeavour- 5 wretched B death of Such are aan would ime, than lily might se by de- ed graces riment of disgrace lage with refase to appoint- and then, 3peatedly. to meet Elizabeth ct. "On I was per- my lady was pre- ;h ready, when, upon a sudden, she resolved not to go, and so sent word." Essex, who had take a to his bed on these repeated indications of unabated hostility to his mother, roused him- self from his sullen manifestation of unavaiHng anger, and came to the queen in his night-gown, by the private way, to intercede with her, but could not carry his point. " It had been better not moved," continues the watchful observer of his proceedings j " for my lord of Essex, by importuning the queen in these unpleasing matters, loses the opportunity he might tak»- of obliging his ancient friends." Elizabeth had never forgiven her cousin Lettice her successful rivalry with regard to Leicester, although the grave had now closed over him for nearly nine years, and his place in her capricious favour was supplied by the countess's gallant son. At length, however, the urgency of Essex in behalf of his mother pre- vailed, and in spite of the jealous anger over which Eliza- beth had gloomily brooded for nearly twenty years, the countess was admitted into her presence once more. A ten- der scene, if not a temporary reconciliation, appears to have taken place on this occasion, for Rowland Whyte says, " My lady Leicester was at court, kissed the queen's hand and her breast, and did embrace her, anrl the queen kissed her. My lord of Essex is in exceeding favour here. Lady Leicester departed from court exceedingly contented; but being de- sirous to come again, and kiss the queen's hand, it was denied, and some wonted unkind words given out against her."^ Queen Elizabeth was very obstinately bent on taking her daily exercise, despite of the weather, and would ride or walk in the rain, setting at nought the entreaties of her ladies, who affected great concern for her health, not forgetting their own, as they were bound to accompany her. They called in the aid of archbishop Whitgift, who gently persuaded her to tarry at home during the foul weather. Her majeacy would not listen to the church. They then tried the agency of her favourite fool. Clod, who addressed the following exordium to his royal mistress : " Heaven dissuades you, madam, not only by its weeping aspect, but by the eloquence of the arch* * Sidney Papers. V A' ^ 'If 692 ELIZABETH. bishop; earth dissuades by the tongue of your poor fool, Clod; and if neither heaven nor earth can succeed, at least listen to Dr. Peme, whose religious doubts suspend him between both." The queen laughed heartily at this gibe on Dr. Perne, the archbishop's chaplain, knowing that, in the reli- gious disputes in the middle of the century, he had changed his religion four times. It was no laughing matter to the doctor, who is said to have died, soon after, of utter chagrin.* Francis Bacon took the trouble of compounding a long letter of advice to Essex, on the manner in which he judged it would be most expedient for him to demean himself to the queen, so as to improve her favourable disposition towards him. Some of these rules are curious enough, and prove that this great moral philosopher was as deeply accomplished in the arts of a courtier, as any of the butterflies who fluttered round the aged rose of England. He tells Essex, "that when, in his speeches, he chanced to do her majesty right, for," continues he, with playful sarcasm, "there is no such thing as flattery among you all, your lordship has rather the air of paying fine compliments than speaking what you really think;" adding, "that any one might read the insincerity of his words in his countenance." Bacon warns his patron " to avoid the example of Hatton and Leicester in his own conduct, yet to adduce them to the queen as precedents on certain points." Essex profited very little by the counsels of his sage secretary; and scarcely had he regained the favour of the queen, ere he hazarded incurring her jealous resentment by a rene^^ al of his rash attentions to her beautiful attendant, mistress Bridges. Of this his observant contemporary thus speaks : " It is spied, out of envy, that Essex is again fallen in love with his fairest B . It cannot choose but come to the queen's ears : then he is undone, and all who depend upon his favour. Sure I am that lady Essex hears of it, or rather suspects it, and is greatly disquieted."'^ Nor was this all; for the indiscretions of Essex were becoming now so much the theme of general discussion, that old lady Bacon took tlie privilege of her age and sanctity to ' Sidney Papers. ELIZABETH. 693 ■ool, Clod; ;ast listen between on Dr. the reli- changed er to the chagrin.* ig a long he judged limself to n towards prove that plished in > fluttered hat when, gK for," uch thing er the air TOM really ncerity of atron "to I conduct, in certain ►f his sage ir of the tment by ittendant, rary thus I fallen in ; come to 3 depend hears of ."^ Nor becoming that old nctity to write to him a long letter of expostulation^ lamenting his backslidings, and warning him of the sinful nature of his way of Hfe.* The enemies of the envied man whom the queen de- lighted to honour, failed not to carry evil reports of him to the royal ear; but it frequently happens that injudi- cious friends are more to be feared than the bitterest of foes. Essex's disgrace may, doubtless, be attributed to the fol- lowing cause. His fair, frail sister, lady Rich, who was one of the ladies of the queen's bedchamber,, and was loved and trusted for his sake, most ungratefully united with her husband — ^with whom she could not agree in any thing but mischief — in a secret correspondence with the king of Scots, under the feigned names of Ricardo and Rialta : James they called Victor. Their letters were written in cypher, and they had nicknames for all the court. Thomas Fowler, Burleigh's spy in Scotland, gave information of this correspondence to his employer, with these particulars^ — " That queen Elizabeth herself was called Venus, and the earl of Essex ' the weaiy knight,' because he was exceeding weary of his office, and accounted his attendance a thrall that he lived in, and hoped for a change, which was, that the queen a\ ould die in a year or two After Burleigh was armed with such intelligence, no wonder the royal favour for Essex began to decline, who, uncou!iicious of the broken ground on which his sister's folly had placed him, earned himself more loftily every day in the council-room. Elizabeth was in a great state of irritability, on account of the king of France consulting his own interest, rather than the political line of conduct she had prescribed as the conditions of her friendship. Henry was bent on conclud- ing an amicable treaty with Spain, and she sent word to him "that the true sin against the Holy Ghost was ingrfi.titude and upbraided him with the breach of his engagements to her."* Henry ofiered to mediate a general peace, in which England should be included, and to this measure Burleigh was dis- posed. Essex argued vehemently in favour of war. The aged minister, now tottering on the brink of the grave, viewed the tj: u ■UUMUt 2 PomflATi. 'ill 694 ELIZABETH. .nwi dazzling visions of military glory in a truer point of light than that in which they appeared to the young, fiery earl-marshal; and after a warm debate on the subject, he drew out a prayer- book, and putting it into his combative opponent's hand, pointed in silence to the text, "Men of blood shall not live out half their days/' The warning made no impression on Essex at the time, but it was afterwards regarded as prophetic of his fate. The veteran statesman, who had trimmed his sails to weather out the changeful storms that had sent queens, princes, and nobles to the block during the reigns of four Tudor sovereigns, required not the gift of second-sight to perceive the dark destiny that impended over the rash knight-errant who filled the perilous office of favourite to the last and haughtiest of that despotic race. To him, who knew the temper of the queen and the character of Essex, well might the " coming event cast its shadow before." Rapidly as the waning sands of life now ebbed with Burleigh, he lived to triumph in that fierce collision of uncontrollable temper between Essex and the queen, which was the sure prelude of the fall of the imprudent favourite. , Ireland was in a state of revolt, and the appointment of a suitable person to fill the difficult and responsible office of lord deputy of that distracted country became a matter of important consideration to the queen and her cabinet. The subject was warmly debated one day in the royal closet, when no one was present but the queen, the lord admiral, sir Rol)crt Cecil, Windebank clerk of the seal, and Essex. Ilcr majesty named sir William Knollys, lier near relative, as the person best fitted for the post. Altliough Knollys was his own uncle, Essex, being aware that the suggestion emanated from the Cecils, opposed it with more vehemence than pru- dence, and insisted tliat the appointment ought to be given to sir George Carew. The queen, offended at the positive tone in which Eosex had presumed to overbear her opinion and advance his own, made a sarcastic rejoinder, on which he so far forgot himself as to tun? his back on her, with a con- temptuous expression. Her majesty, exasperated beyond the bounds of self-control by this insolence, gave him a sound box ELIZABETH. 695 ight than -marshal; a prayer- t's hand, not live jssion on prophetic amed his had sent reigns of 3nd-sight the rash ite to the i^ho knew 5sex, well Rapidly , he lived ; temper relude of pent of a office of natter of 2t. The 1 closet, admiral, ex. Ilcr e, as the i was his nianated lan i)ru- je given positive opinion vhich he li a con- anid the und box on the ear, and hade him " go and be hanged !"* Essex be- haved like a petulant school-boy on this occasion, for instead of receiving the chastisement which his own ill-manners had provoked as a sort of angry love-token, and kissing the royal hand in return for the buflfet, he grasped his sword-hilt with a menacing gesture. The lord admiral hastily threw himself between the infuriated earl and the person of the queen, and fortunately prevented him from disgracing himself by theun- knightly deed of drawing his weapon upon a lady and his sovereign : but he swore, with a deep oath, " That he would not have taken that blow from king Henry, her father ; and that it was an indignity that he neither could nor would endure from any one V^ To these rash words he added some impertinence about " a king in petticoats," rushed, with marked disrespect, from the royal presence, and in- stantly withdrew from court.* This stormy scene occurred June 1598. The lord chan- cellor, Egerton, wrote a friendly letter of advice to Essex, entreating him to make proper submission to his offended sovereign, to whom he owed so many obligations, and to sue for pardon.* It is more than probable thai Eger- ton's letter was written by the desire of the queen, t»,nd dictated by her, or surely two very powerful arguments for the performance of the course suggested by him would have been used; namely, the reverence due from a young man to a princess of the advanced age to which her ma- jesty had now attained, and also his near relationship to her, as the greaSgrandson of her aunt, Mary Boleyn. In reply to the lord keeper's sage advice, Essex wrote a pas- sionate letter, complaining of the hardness of the queen's heart, and of the indignity he had received. 696 ELIZABETH. U-i mother and sisters of Essex, and all who wished him well, endeavoured to mollify his haughty spirit ; he maintained a sullen resentment for several months, in the expectation that the queen would, in the end, become a suppliant to hii^^ for a reconciliation. Meantime Elizabeth was taken up with watching over the last days of her old servant, Burleigh. His suflPerings were severe, and his swollen, enfeebled hands had lost the power, not only of guiding the statesman's pen, but at times of con- veying food to his mouth. While he was in this deplorable state, the queen came frequently to visit the faithful, time- worn pilot, with whom she had weathered out muny a threat- ening storm; and now he could no longer serve her, she behaved in his sick chamber with that tenderness which, though only manifested on rare occasions by this great queen, is at all times an inherent principle of the female character, however circumstances in life may have been adverse to its devclopement. When his attendants brought him nourish- ment, the queen insisted on feeding him herself, — an act of kindness which warmed his heart and soothed his miseries. He recovered sufficiently to be able to write to his son an autograph letter, in which he thus mentions the queen : — " I pray you dilipontly and effectually let her majesty understand how her singrular kindness doth overcome my power to accjuit it, who, though she will not Ik) a mother, yet she showeth herself, by feeding mo with her own princely hand, as a careful norice, [nurse]. And if I [ever] may bo weaned to feed myself, I shall lie more reiuly to serve her on the eturtb; if not, I hope to be, in heavc^n, a servitor for her and God's church. " And so I thank you for your partridges. " Your languishing father, " 10th .Tuly, 1598. " W. HuitoniEY. " 1'. H. — SerAO Ocxl Jy serving the queen, for all other service is indeed bondage to the devil."* In vain liad Wolsoy raised his dying voice to reveal the grand error of his life, in preferring the service of his king ' The declaration of a contoni])orftrv courtier, sir .Tohn Harrington, allurds • striking moral i>omnient on the unprolitahle nature of a life devote*! to tlie pursuit of royal favour : " I have sjx'nt my time, my fortune, and almost my honcHty, to buy false ho|K', false friends, and sliallow jtraise; and \ki h reuiein- b«'r«Kl, that he who <*aHt<'th up this reckoning of a courtly minion, will set Wia Bum, like a fixil. at the end. f(>r not being n k I coixld boast, with chanter David, In te gperavi, Uomine! ELIZABETH. 697 him well, aintained a tation that to him for g over the rings were the power, les of con- deplorable iful, time- Y a threat- e her, she CSS which, eat queen, character, erse to its I nourish- -an act of s miseries, lis sou an leen : — and how her lugh slie will 3\vn princely ancd to feed I hope to be, UHOnLEY. CO is uidecd cveal tlic his king rton, nffonh otitl to tlie i alnuMt my 1 ir reniein- will Net ilia ^Jn . liiuw % to his God ; we here see a statesman of equal sagacity, but untutored by the " moral uses of adversity,'^ departing with an avowed preference to the service of his living idol before that of the great eternal Being, whose approbation ought to be the grand motive of a good man's life. Harrington bears testimony to the extreme solicitude of queen Elizabeth for Burleigh in his dying illness. Every day she sent lady Arundel with inquiries touching his state, and bearing an excellent cordial for his stomach, which her majesty gave her in charge, and said, " That she did entreat Heaven daily for his longer life ; else would her people, nay herself, stand in need of cordials too." Again Harrington observes, " The lord treasurer's distemper doth marvellously trouble the queen, who saith 'that her comfort hatli been in her people's happiness, and their happiness in his dis- cretion."^ Burleigh expired on the 4th of August, in the 77th year of his age. How deeply he was regretted by his royal mistress may be seen by the affecting witness borne by Harrington of her sorrowful remembrance of her old friend. "The queen's highness doth often speak of hira in tears, and turn aside when he is discoursed of; nay, even forbiddeth his name to be mentioned in the council. This I have by some friends who are in good liking with lord Buckhurst, the new lord treasurer." On the 13th of September died Philip II. of Spain, having survived Burleigh about six weeks. But while death is thus rapidly clearing the stage of the dramatis persome who per- formed the leading parts in the annals connected with the life and actions of this great queen, if may afford a pleasing change to the reader to glance within some of her stately palaces, the splendid furniture and decorations of which are described in glowing colours by the German traveller, llentz- ncr, who visited England this year. Windsor-castle, accord- ing to his account, must have far exceeded in interest, if not in magnificence, as it then stood, the present structure, marred as it is with the costly alterations and incongruous additions of the last of the Georges, miscalled improvements. Every ' NugiD Antiquu), vol. i. p 288. 698 ELIZABETH. apartment in the three noble courts described by Hentzner was hallowed by historical recollections or traditions, linked with the annals of English royalty, and calculated to rllus- trate the records of England's progress! v^e glories, from the days when the mighty founder of our present dynasty of sovereigns ) rst built his gothic himting-seat on the green heights above the Thames, called at that spot the Windle- sore. Hentzner mentions the third court with enthusiasm, in the midst of which gushed a fountain of very clear water, ^fter describing the stately banqueting-hall, where the fes- tival of the Garter was annually celebrated, he says, " From hence runs a walk ^"f incredible beauty, three hundred and eighty paces in length, set round on every side with sup- porters of wood, which sustain a balcony, from whence the nobility and other persons of distinction can take the plea- sure of seeing hunting and hawking in a lawn of sufficient space ; for the fields and meadows, clad with a variety of plants and flowers, swell gradually into hills of perpetual verdure quite up to the castle, and at bottom stretch out into an extended plain, that strikes the beholders with delight/' Queen Elizabeth's bedchamber was the apartment in which Henry VI. was born. In this room Hentzner describes a table of red marble with white streaks, a cushion most curi- ously wrought by her majesty's own hands, a unicorn's horn, of above eight spans and a half in length, valued at the ab- surd price of ten thousand pounds ; also, a bird of paradise, of which our author gives a minute and somewhat ludicrous account. From the royal chamber he wanders into the gallery, ornamented T^%th emblems and figures, and another chamber adjacent, containing (where arc they now?) "the royal beds of Henry VII. and his queen, of Edward VI., Henry VIII., and Anne Boleyn, all of them eleven feet square, and covered with quilts shining with gold and silver. Queen Elizabeth's bed," he tells us, " is not quite so long or so iar^re as the others, but covered with curious hangings of embroidery work." The tapestry represented Clovis king of France, with an angel presenting to him the fleur-de-lis, be bomu in his arms instead of the three toads, the I a o o ELIZABETH. 699 lentzner 3, linked * :'llu8" rom the aasty of e green Windle- lusiasm, r water, the fes- "From red and th sup- nce the le plea- ifficieiit 'iety of rpetual )ut into flight." L which ribes a it curi- 9 horn, the ab- iradise, licrous to the nother ''the d VI., a feet silver. )ng or igings ) king de-Iis, }, the ancient device of his royal predecessors. This antique piece of tapestry was stated to be one of the only surviving relics of the conquest of France by the victorious Edward III. or Henry V. Hampton-Court must, indeed, have been a palace fit for this mighty empress of pomp and pageantry in the truly palatial grandeur of the Tudor architecture, and furnished in the manner our eloquent German describes. He tells us that the chapel was most splendid, and the queen's closet quite transparent, having crystal windows; and that there was, besides, a small chapel richly hung with tapestry, where the queen performs her devotions. "In one chamber," pursues he, "were the rich tapestries which are hung up when the queen gives audience to foreign ambassadors ; there were numbers of cushions ornamented with gold and silver, many counterpanes and coverlids of beds lined with ermine, — in short, all the walls of the palace shine with gold and silver." Alas, for the vanished glories of this once royal abode ! "What strains of lamentation would our marvellous German have poured forth, could he now behold the dishonouring change that has befallen the Dutch- ified palace of Hampton-Court ! Ho winds up the climax of his description of its splendour under the great Elizabeth, with the description of a certain cabinet called Paradise, where, " besides that every thing glitters so with silver, gold, and jewels as to dazzle one's eyes," he says, "there is a miisical instrument made all of glass, except the strings." The walls of the Hampton-Court gardens were at that time covered witli rosemary. lii addition to Tsonsuch and Rich- mond, Elizabeth had a variety of minor palaces in the neigh- bourhood of tlie metropolis, to which suburban residences she retired when alarmed by suspicion of the vicinity of pesti- lence in Westminster or Greemvich. She had the Lodge at Islington, the Grove at Newington, her Dp.iry at Barnelras, and the royal palace and park of Mary-le-bone, now Re- gent's-park : here the ambassadors of the czar of Russia, in 1600, had permission to hunt at their pleasure. 700 ELIZABETH; r '.'t' ■ i Hentzner was much struck with the fine library of this learned female so^'^reign at Whitehall. " All these books/* continues he, " aru bound in velvet of different colours, but chiefly red, with clasps of gold and silver ; some have pearls and precious stone? set in their bindings." Such was, in- deed, the fashion in the magnificent reign of Elizabeth, when, except in the article of the rush-strewn floors, engendering dirt and pestilence, luxury had arrived at a prodigious height. Hentzner particularly notices two Httle silver cabinets, of exquisite work, in which, he says, the queen keeps her paper, and which siie uses for writing-boxes. Also a little chest, ornamented all over with pearls, in which she keeps her bracelets, ear-rings, and other things of extraordinary value. The queen's bed is described as being ingeniously composed of woods of difl'erent colours, with quilts of silk velvet, gold, silver, and embroidery. At Greenwich-palace our worthy traveller enjoyed the satisfaction of beholding the imperial lady, to whom pertained all these glories in proprid persona^ surrounded with the pomp and elaborate ceremonials which attended the fatiguing dignity of the royal office in the reign of the maiden monarch, but not as she appeared to the poetic vision of Gray, — " Girt with many a baron bold, Snblime their starry fronts they rear ; And gorgeous dames, and statesmen old. In bearded majesty — [not the ladies, wc hope] — appear. In the midst a form divine, Her eye proeluims her of the Tudor line ; Her lion jxjrt, her awe-oommanding face, Attemper'd sweet with yirgin grace." Such, probably was a correct portrait of England's Eliza- beth in the first twenty years of her reign ; but when Hentz- ner saw her at Greenwich, she was in her sixty- sixth year, and Time, who does his work as sternly on royalty as on mortals of meaner mould, had wrought strange changes in the outward similitude of the virgin queen. But Hentzner must speak for himself. After telling us that he was admitted into the royal apartments by a lord chamberlain's order, which his I ELIZABETH. 701 ry of tliis e books/* lours, but ave pearls \i was, in- ;th, when, gendering us height, binets, of tier paper, tie chest, keeps her ary value, composed Ivet, gold, ir worthy \ imperial i persona, ials which the reign d to the car. I's Eliza- n Hentz- icth year, ty as on ;v.s in the ner must ttcd into vhich his Englisli friend had procured, he first describes the presence- chamber "hung with rich tapestry, and the floor, after the English fashion, strewed with hay,^ through which the queen commonly passes in her way to chapel. At the door stood a gentleman dressed in velvet, with a gold chain, whose office was to introduce to the queen any person of distinction that came to w .'j on her. It was Sunday, when there is usually the greatest attendance of nobihty. In the same hall were the archbishop of Canterbury, the bishop of London, a gr at number of councillors of state, officers of the crown, and gen- tlemen, who waited the queen's coming out, which she did, from her own apartment, when it was time to go to prayers, attended in the following manner : — " First went gentlemen, barons, earls, knights of the Garter, all richly dressed, and bare-headed j next came the chancellor, bearing the seals in a red silk purse, between two, one of which carried the royal sceptre, the other the sword of state in a red scabbard, stud- ded with golden fleurs-de-lis, the point upwards. Next came the queen, in the sixty-sixth year of her age as we were told, very majestic; her face oblong, fair, but wrinkled; her eyes small, yet black and pleasant ; her nose a little hooked ; her lips narrow, and her teeth black, (a defect the English seem subject to,, from their too great use of sugar). She had in her ears two pearls, with very rich drops ; she wore false hair, and that red ; upon her head she had a small crown, reported to be made of some of the gold of the celebrated Lunebourg table. Her bosom was uncovered, as all the English ladies have it till they marry ; and she had on a necklace of exceed- ing fine jewels. Her hands were small, her fingers long, and her stature neither tall nor low; her air was stately; her manner of speaking mild and obliging. Instead of a chain, she had an oblong collar, of gold and jewels. As she went along in all this state and magnificence, she spoke veiy graciously, first to one, then to another, whe- ' He probably means rushes. 1 ill 702 ELIZABETH. 5' ther foreign ministers or those who attended for different reasons, in English, French, and Italian; for besides being well skilled in Greek, Latin, and the languages I have men- tioned, she is mistress of Spanish, Scotch, and Dutch. Who- ever speaks to her, it is kneeling ; now and then she raises some with her hand. While we were there, W. Slawata, a Bohemian baron, had letters to present to her ; and she, after pulling off her glove, gave him her right hand to kiss, spark- ling with rings and jewels, — a mark of particular favour. Wherever she turned her i^je as she was going along, every body fell down on their knees. The ladies of the court fol- lowed next to her, very handsome and well-shaped, and for the most part dressed in white. She was guarded, on each side, by the gentlemen pensioners, fifty in number, with gilt battle-axes. In the ante-chapel, next the hall where we were, petitions were presented to her, and she received them most graciously, which occasioned the acclamation of ' Long live queen Elizabeth V She answered it with, * I thank you, my good people.' In the chapel was excellent music. 