QUEEN ELIZABETH"
WHEN a collection of pictures is put together for publica- tion the reading matter is generally left to take care of itself. Indeed, it is almost a rule,—the better the engravings, the worse the letterpress. The work before us is a most notable exception. The firm (Boussod, Valadon, and Co.) which has issued these magnificent reproductions of the pictures of Elizabeth, of her kith and kin, and of the statesmen of her Court, has had the wisdom to get a man of letters and a. historian of the first rank to write the reading part of the • Queen Elizabeth. By the Itieht Rey. Mandell Creighton, D. D., Lord Bishop of Peterborough. London: Boussod, Valadon, and Co.
book. The result is a unique combination of beautiful pictures and well-written history. An abler account of " that great Queen of happy memory," as Cromwell declared he must call Elizabeth, and of her life and actions, has never been published. Enemies of Elizabeth may perhaps think it too favourable, but no one will be able to deny the interest—nay, fascination—of the narrative. Before, however, we deal in detail with the Bishop's study of the Queen, we mast say a word as to the pictures. We see Elizabeth at every stage of her career, and by comparing the various portraits we are able to get a most vivid impression of her face and bear- ing. The most obviously beautiful and taking of these is the Queen Elizabeth as Diana, taken from the picture at Hatfield. Here we see the Queen as Ben Jonson saw her, or professed to see her, when he wrote his "Queen and huntress chaste and fair." The Queen is seated—we presume in her "silver chair." On her head is the crescent, at her back the quiver of arrows, in her hand a bow, at her side a greyhound. Such a description sounds as if the picture must be fantastic. Yet it is not. The alert yet majestic face and the smiting eyes take away all sense of affectation, and the Queen, if not the goddess, stands confessed. More striking as a por- trait, though not so beautiful as a picture, is the Ermine portrait, also from Hatfield. Here is the Elizabeth of middle life, beruffed and bejewelled, yet showing beneath all the tiresome pomp the woman both of intellect and of common-sense. Another striking presentment of Eliza- beth is from a picture at Hampden House. This is a. full-length portrait of the Queen in what we should imagine was only a dress of semi - state. It has all the appearance of rendering the Queen as she seemed in her daily life at about the age of thirty-eight or forty. The face is like that of the girlish portraits, and gives the feeling of a capable woman of the world,—fond of pleasure, but yet ever ready for business of importance. If, however, we dis- ease all the portraits of Elizabeth, we shall have little or no time to speak of the Queen as she appears in the Bishop's able biography.
If Queen Elizabeth had a ruling passion, it was to make kerself popular with the people of England of all classes and creeds, and to gain their honour, approval, and loyalty. She did not, of course, wish to be popular from weakness, because she was afraid of being disliked, or because she was one of those vain persons who cannot be happy unless they are basking in smiles and are thought well of by all the world. Her desire to be popular had a very different origin. She wished to be popular and to stand forth as the champion and interpreter of English feeling because she realised that this was the only certain way to power. She tried to secure the confidence of the people of England just as an able Prime Minister tries to secure the confidence of the House of Commons. Her attitude, indeed, was repeatedly exactly like that of an able and strong-minded Minister who is intent on keeping his party together and gaining their entire confidence. To make the people of England feel " This is the Sovereign for us ; what should we do without her," may without exaggera- tion be said to have been her constant preoccupation. She worked unceasingly to prove to the nation that she was the one necessary person,—that without her England would be in dire peril, but as long as she lived, safe and happy. Her desire to be the necessary person often carried her, indeed, into acts which were far from patriotic. She refused to settle the succession and to put at rest many other doubtful points, because she saw that the dread of what might come after her helped to enforce her own position and to make men regard her as their bulwark and salvation. That this desire to be popular was founded upon deep policy and a clear-sighted apprehension of the English character cannot be doubted. It was, however, also adopted from necessity, at any rate in the early part of her reign. Elizabeth when she came to the throne was in a position of very great difficulty and danger. The country was itself weak and divided, and was full of factious and ambitious men. The Queen was perfectly right when she came to the conclusion that she could only reign in security by getting the people of England at her back. By the time she had succeeded in doing this a third of her reign had passed, and the search for a wide, as contrasted with a sectional, popularity had become a habit,—and a habit sup- ported by the knowledge that to gain the confidence of her people was to gain a source of power denied to ordinary Sovereigns. Elizabeth, having tasted the advantages of popular confidence, was not the woman to throw them away even in order to indulge her own strong will. Bishop Creighton brings this fact out with great clearness :— " Elizabeth's first appearance in public showed that she valued popularity above all things, and spared no pains to gain it.
If ever any person had either the gift or the style to win the hearts of the people, it was this Queen ; and if ever she did ex- press the same, it was at that present, in coupling mildness with majesty, as she did, and in stately stooping to the meanest sort.
All her faculties were in motion, and every motion seemed a well. guided action. Her eye was set on one ; her ear listened to
another; her judgment ran upon a third; to a fourth she addressed her speech. Her spirit seemed to be everywhere, and yet so entire in herself, as it seemed to be nowhere else. Some she pitied; some she commended; some she thanked ; at others she pleasantly and wittily jested, contemning no person, neglect- ing no office ; and distributing her smiles, looks and graces so artificially, that thereupon the people redoubled the testimony of their joys ; and afterwards, raising everything to the highest strain, filled the ears of all men with immoderate extolling their Prince. In all the pageantry which ushers in a new reign, Elizabeth was busy in endearing herself to the hearts of her people ; she used every opportunity of showing herself in public, and she was affable to all. She laid from the beginning the foundations of that personal popularity which she never lost, and which was her strongest weapon amid all her perils."
Of Elizabeth's personal and private character it is difficult to speak with respect. We may—nay, must—admire her as a patriot and a politician, but as a woman she is not a pleasant study. But though her coarseness of fibre and her want of the finer feelings are apparent, it would be most unfair to shut our eyes to the excuses which can be justly pleaded in her favour. Dr. Creighton shows how evil were the influ- ences to which she was exposed as a girl. Not only did she live surrounded by political intrigues, and pass a consider- able space of time as a prisoner in fear of death; but when hardly more than a child she was subjected to an experience that was almost certain to harden and degrade her nature. Lord Seymour of Sadeley, the Lord High Admiral during the reign of Edward VI., conceived the idea of rising to power by marrying Elizabeth. He was first the lover, and then became the husband, of the Queen Dowager, Catherine Parr. This brought him near the person of Elizabeth, as the Queen Dowager was the girl's guardian. He was a very handsome man, and used the position which he thus occupied towards Elizabeth without scruple. At first the Queen Dowager thought no evil, " but it soon became evident even to her that Seymour was making love to Elizabeth in a corrupting way, and that Elizabeth showed no displeasure at his revolting attentions." The result was that Elizabeth and Seymour were kept apart. When, however, the Queen Dowager died, Seymour attempted to renew his intrigue with Elizabeth, and now talked of marriage. But Seymour did not keep his designs secret, and when his brother, the Pro- tector Somerset, heard of his designs he had Seymour arrested :-
" In January, 1549, Lord Seymour was arrested on a charge of high treason. Elizabeth's governess, Catherine Ashley, and her steward, Thomas Parry, were carried away and imprisoned in the Tower. Elizabeth herself was confined to her house at Hatfield, under the guardianship of Sir Robert Tyrwhit, who was charged by the Council to examine her and discover evidence against Seymour. It was a terrible position for a young girl who was not yet sixteen. Deprived of her only friends, not knowing what they might reveal, left alone to the mercy of an astute official, whose duty it was to examine her from day to day, and make her admit her guilt, she well might quail. Her honour, even her life, was at stake. She was at the mercy of her servants. She had not the unconsciousness of absolute innocence, and could only confide in the fidelity of her imprisoned attendants and in her own dexterity. At first she burst into a flood of tears, and Tyrwhit thought that his task would be easy. He advised her to confess everything ; the evil and shame would be ascribed to Catherine Ashley ; she would be forgiven on the score of her youth. But Elizabeth soon regained her self-command in the face of danger. He could get nothing from her ; and yet,' he writes, I can see from her face that she is guilty, but she will abide mere storms before she accuses Mrs. Ashley.' The next day he succeeded no better, and could only repeat, I do assure your Grace she hath a very good wit, and nothing is gotten of her but by great policy.' Elizabeth would not commit herself, and in a week's time felt sufficiently secure of the reticence of her servants to write in a dignified strain to the Protector, defending her reputation, and protesting her innocence. ' My conscience.' she wrote, beareth me witness, which I would not for all earthly things offend in anything, for I know I have a soul to save, as well as other folks have, wherefore I will above all things have respect unto this same.' As nothing could be discovered from Elizabeth, Tyrwhit turned his attention to her imprisoned steward, Parry, and extracted from him an account of the unseemly familiarities between his mistress and Lord Seymour. Catherine Ashley could not deny her knowledge of them, and furnished a few more particulars. Then Tyrwhit returned to Elizabeth and put the two confessions into her hand. She read them abashed and breathless. But when Tyrwhit told her that Catherine Ashley would say nothing till she was confronted with Parry, the Tudor rage broke forth. False wretch,' she cried, he promised not to confess to death ; how could he make such a promise and break it?' Yet, downcast as she was at reading the record of her in- discretion, she soon recovered her presence of mind. She saw that on the main points her servants had stood firm. They sacrificed Elizabeth's private character to maintain her political innocence. She had been a shameless flirt, but had never con- templated marrying Seymour without the consent of the Council. Elizabeth took her cue accordingly. Tyrwhit could extract nothing from her except scraps of foolish conversation about the possibility of such a marriage, in answer to which suggestions she always reserved the Council's assent. 'They all sing the same song,' said Tyrwhit wearily. and so I think they would not do unless they had got the note before.' After all his efforts, the girl of sixteen baffled the experienced man of affairs."
We can hardly wonder that such an experience had a most evil effect upon Elizabeth's character.
We have dwelt upon what seemed to us the newest and most striking things in Bishop Creighton's book, but mast leave undiscussed a dozen other topics of capital interest, such as the dealings of Elizabeth with Mary Queen of Scots, and her behaviour towards Leicester and Essex. We must, however, remark that in our opinion Dr. Creighton's references to Elizabeth's alleged starving of the fleet which defeated the Armada do not seem to us conclusive. He seems to think that the evidence only shows that Elizabeth and her Council insisted on a careful audit in the matter of stores. We do not, of course, pretend to the historical knowledge of Dr. Creighton, but certainly our impression is that the fleet was starved because Elizabeth could not be induced to realise that the Armada would really start. She ran a terrible risk rather than waste money, as she considered it, on needless preparations. Be this as it may, Dr. Creighton's book is one of supreme interest. It does not from first to last contain a dull page, and the amount of quotations from original sources is most remarkable. Whenever possible he has given the Queen's, or Burleigh's, or Essex's own words. The result is a wonder. ful sense of freshness and reality. If only all historians would follow this practice, how much less dull our libraries would be. Unfortunately, most historical writers think it better to save a few lines by putting the sense of the authorities into modern language. Jealousy of the inverted comma is a capital fault in the historian.
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