quiesced, and thus the princess royal of England was educated as an alien in her own land! Up to the year 1525, this engagement was still considered binding; and an emerald ring, in token of constancy, was presented by the grave ambassadors to Charles, as a love-token from the little princess, which he as gravely received, saying "he wolde weare it for hir sayke." But Charles was now twenty-six years of age, and, naturally enough, his subjects desired to see him married without delay, rather than wait some years longer for his English cousin; so only two months later he wrote to the king and cardinal requesting their assent to his marriage with another first cousin of more suitable age, Isabella of Portugal, who became, as we have seen, mother of Philip II. Ere long Henry and Francis again made peace, and then Francis, now a widower, obligingly offered either himself or his second son. After many negotiations, the subject was dropped, and during the subsequent years the divorce of Catharine fully occupied Henry's mind, while, cast out from court favor and disgracefully branded with illegitimacy, few European princes would be likely to seek alliance with the portionless Lady Mary." Soon after Catharine's death, however, we find Charles again interfering on behalf of his cousin, and proposing a marriage with his nephew the Infante of Portugal; but ere the arrangements were completed, Francis again came forward with a renewed offer of his second son. Soon after there were proposals from the Duke of Cleves, and then from the Duke of Urbino, both at the suggestion of Charles, who dreaded above all a French alliance, and to these a third was subsequently added, from Duke Philip of Bavaria. The latter visited England and presented Mary with a diamond cross; but all these negotiations, like the former ones, were broken off.

On the death of her father, with the exception of a proposal from the Marquess of Brandenburgh, Mary was allowed to remain in quiet obscurity, the emperor no longer proposing alliances, but keeping close watch over her interests, and, on the occasion of Edward's council arresting her chaplains for performing mass, directing his ambassador to threaten war unless her religious tenets were respected. This was in 1551, and as Edward was then a sickly youth, it is not improbable that Charles, far-sighted as he had always shown himself,

began to form his plans, should the premature death of the young king open the succession to Mary. At length, in July, 1553, Edward died-from natural causes there is little doubt, for most important to the maturing the projects of Northumber land would a few months, even a few days, have been. The story of the joy that pervaded England when Lady Jane Grey was proclaimed queen must be dismissed as a palpable falsehood. The poor girl, whose father was as despised as her mother, "the proud lady of Bradgate," was hated, who was raised to a fifteen days' royalty by that most detested of all the parvenu nobles of that age, Dudley, the upstart assumer of the proud title of the Percies the murderer not the less so because "in course of law"-of Somerset, the king's uncle, and who was well known to sway the young king as a mere puppet-it was impossible that his daughter-in-law could ever have been the object of the people's choice, even had not the king's two sisters been living. But, then, can we believe that Mary's accession was hailed with rejoicings? Contemporary testimony, Protestant as well as Catholic, assures us it was so; and when we remember how much reason the people had to dread a disputed successionhow their fathers had suffered from that very cause in the wars of the Roses-how they themselves had suffered from the feuds of rival nobles-we can well believe that they would be content with any ruler who would set them free from the unbearable tyranny of the Somersets and Northumberlands of that day. We must remember, too, that among the Catholic nobility and their followers-then a large majority-the accession of the Catholic princess, who, through such cruel persecution, had stood firm to her faith, was indeed a triumph. Thus we think it will be found that Mary, notwithstanding her foreign habits, and the slight impression which, notwithstanding her wrongs, she had made upon the people, was yet welcomed by them. They had yet to learn how devoted she was to Spain, and how willing to lay their liberties at the feet of a foreign despot.

Edward died on the 6th of July; and however Northumberland might plot to keep his death secret, we find the wary emperor so quickly apprised of it, that in a letter dated from Brussels only five days afterwards, he gives his first directions to

his ambassador. In his second, dated the 22d, he bids him hint to the queen that the time had come when it was desirable that she should marry, and that his advice and aid would always be heartily at her service. Charles was not the man to allow a good opportunity to pass by, for the sake of etiquette. Upon this hint, doubtless, the ambassador enlarged, although as yet the suitor was not indicated. Many writers have pointed out Courtenay, the young and handsome Earl of Devonshire, who had just been released from his long captivity in the Tower, as the probable object of Mary's choice; and that there was some ground for this belief another letter from the emperor in August seems to prove. In this there was an especial message to Renard, then in London, to approach the subject of Courtenay with the greatest caution, lest he should fix the attention of the queen more strongly upon it. We are not inclined to believe, with Mr. Prescott, in the "frivolous disposition" of this young man. The prisoner, who beguiled his long captivity with literature and music, and in the accomplishment so unusual in that age, painting, could not have deserved so slighting an epithet. Whether Mary ever felt partiality toward him is very questionable, but that he speedily became no common favorite with the people is certain; and hence, doubtless, the hostility with which he was viewed by the emissaries of Spain. Renard, who seems to have merited his name, without further delay proposed Philip, and in his letter tells us that the queen took the proposal so merrily, that "she laughed not once, but several times, and gave me a significant look, showing that the offer was very agreeable to her, and giving me also to know that she neither sought nor desired an English marriage." This is most important. In a subsequent conversation, she begged Renard to assure the Emperor that she was ready to obey, and please him, as though he were her father, but requesting him to open the subject to her council himself. The emperor was now secure of success, but he went to work warily; and in the subsequent letters we have ample proof how distasteful he well knew this alliance would prove to the nation, for we find him urging the necessity of secrecy, and especially that Mary should beware of advising with her council before her final decision.

Soon after Mary's coronation, which took place on the 1st of October, the new Parliament, after having pronounced the marriage of her father and mother valid, proceeded to petition her to marry for the good of the realm, but besought her to choose "a noble of English birth, and not a foreigner to reign over them." This evidently points at Courtenay, who, as great-grandson of Edward IV., as well as third cousin to the queen, had a contingent claim in point of birth to the crown.

This seems to have awakened Renard's anxieties, which, however, were soon allayed by the queen informing him that she was apprised of Gardiner's intrigues, and those of the French ambassador, adding in a tone worthy of her father: "But I will be a match for them." Soon after, she took Renard at midnight into her oratory, and kneeling before the host, having repeated the hymn Veni Creator, she solemnly pledged herself to take no other for her husband than the Prince of Spain. About a fortnight later her faithful Commons, in due form and with due humility, knelt in the royal presence to offer their petition, when she answered them, that from God she held her crown, and that to him alone she should look for counsel in so important a matter, adding the gratuitous falsehood, that she had not yet made up her mind to marry, but that she would take it into consideration. "The Commons, who had rarely the courage to withstand the frown of their Tudor prince," says Mr. Prescott, "professed themselves contented, and from this moment opposition ceased from that quarter." The case was, that had Mary's parliament been as stern and unyielding as the Long Parliament itself, it could have done nothing more until the queen had made public her intentions.

Rumors of the queen's projected marriage, however, rapidly spread among the people. In the passing notices of the day, we find that several men were set on the pillory for "haynous words agenst the quen's majesty;" that a strict watch was kept upon the city; and that Elizabeth, who had been denied her just place at court, and who in consequence had requested permission to retire to Ashbridge, was placed under the surveillance of Sir Thomas Pope and Sir John Gage, ostensibly as officers of her household, but in reality as spies. Nor were these precautions premature; for even then a splendid

embassy, headed by Count Egmont, was about to leave Brussels, charged with the solemn offer of Philip's hand to Mary; while jewels and ducats were liberally dispensed among the more tractable of her council. The embassy landed in Kent, where the handsome Egmont, being mistaken for Philip, received so rude a welcome that, fearing a journey by land, he reëmbarked, and sailed up the Thames, arriving at Tower Wharf on the 2d of January. But the hatred which had exhibited itself in Kent was equally displayed in London, where, as a contemporary states, "as the retinew and harbengers came ryding through London, the boyes pelted at them with snowballs, so hateful was the syghte of their coming in to them." When we remember the mire and stones of the old London highways, we may easily imagine that this snowballing was no mere pleasant pastime.

Egmont, after being banqueted by Gardiner, proceeded, gladly enough, we doubt not, to Hampton Court, and tendered his proposals of marriage. These Mary received with mingled reserve and courtesy. Perhaps, as hitherto all the courting had been done by the father, she thought it was time for the son at least to take some part. It seems, however, to have been agreed that no time should be lost; so ere letter or token was received from her future husband, the marriage treaty was prepared. This was drawn up with great care, under the chancellor's direction.

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"This instrument," as Mr. Prescott remarks, was certainly worded with a care that reflected credit on the sagacity of its framers." But what security had the English nation that all these stipulations would be observed? As one of the speakers in Parliament is said to have asked: "If the bond be broken, who is there to sue the bond?" No wonder, therefore, that this marriage treaty, unexceptionable as it was in its provisions, was received by the people with rage and opposition, such as never had been witnessed since the wars of the Roses. Not only were placards affixed to every public building, and scurrilous ballads against the Spaniards sung in the streets, and children in their play pretending to hang the Spanish prince, but in Warwickshire and Leicestershire, in Devonshire and in Kent, insurrections broke out simultaneously.

We wish Mr. Prescott had been more

minute on this part of his subject, for "the accounts given in every English history of this period," to which he refers the reader, are both contradictory and apocryphal. The chief insurrection was that under Sir Thomas Wyatt, a leader to whom justice has never yet been done. A Kentish knight, a man of education and property, belonging "to the old religion" too, little cause had he to throw away fortune and life on a wild scheme to overturn the commonweal. But he well knew "the proud Spaniard," having frequently been sent on embassies to Spain; and he seems really to have felt it but the duty of a gallant Englishman to resist what was not the less truly a foreign invasion, because it was in the guise of a marriage treaty. That this feeling was general is proved by the fact, that the London trainbands sent to oppose him actually joined his standard, and that when with more than four thousand men he entered Southwark, "they were suffered peaceably to come, wythout repulse, or eny stroke stryken; yet ther was many men of the contry in the innes, raised and brought thyder by the Lorde William (Howard), to have gon agenste the saide Wyatt, but they all joined themselves to the saide Kentish rebels, taking their parts, and the saide inhabitantes most willingly with their best entertayned them." The same writer states, that on Wyatt's entering Southwark, he made proclamation "that his comyng was only to resyst the comyng in of the Spanish king."

There was a fine chivalrous spirit in this unfortunate leader. His placing his name in the front of his cap, when proclamation was made that whoever took him should have "a cl. in money ;" and especially in his retiring from a position so strong, and affording such facilities for retreat as Southwark, because, when the lieutenant of the Tower directed the great ordnance against the bridge foot and St. Mary Overies, the women cried to him, "Sir, we are like to be utterlie undone all, and destroyed for your sake, and, therefore, for the love of God take pytie on us." stayed awhyle," says the diarist-probably an eye-witness-" and then sayd these, or mochelike words: 'I praie you, my friends, content yourselves a lyttel,and I will soon ease you of this myschefe, for God forbid that ye or the least child here shulde be hurt or killed in my behalfe.' And so in most speedie manner marched awaye."

He

This was his fatal step; for he retired to Kingston, along almost impassable roads for it was the depth of winter-and then, leading his wearied men through Brentford, advanced westward upon London. The sad result is well known; but had Wyatt maintained his strong position in Southwark, most likely England would have been spared the following five dark years of her history.

It is worth while just to glance at the proceedings of the next three months. Ere Wyatt was executed, poor Lady Jane Grey and her husband were beheaded on Tower Hill, while severe execution was done upon the insurgents in the counties. The respite of Wyatt was doubtless intended for the purpose of involving Elizabeth in his plot; and sick and desolate she was brought in a litter to London-the journey of only twenty-nine miles occupying four days. And now, still chafing under the indignity of "the Spanish match," and too well assured of the implacable nature of their queen, the people turned to this new victim with their homage and their love; and as she was slowly borne beneath the city gates, loaded with their ghastly trophies, and along Fleet-street and the Strand, crowds pressed around the open litter with tears and prayers for the youthful princess who was brought thither, perhaps to die. Mary was awed at this outburst of popular feeling, which even wholesale executions were unable to subdue, and Elizabeth for that time was safe. Next came the execution of the Duke of Suffolk, while Wyatt and his associates were still respited; but every attempt to connect Elizabeth with the rising failed. Still, she was too important an object to be dismissed like Courtenay, and her cruel committal to the Tower followed. Charles had just before written to his ambassadors, requiring a positive guarantee of his son's safety. Was the imprisonment, and if needful, the execution of Elizabeth, the answer given?

But Charles, despotic as he might be in his own dominions, found that England was not to be trifled with. His envoy returned for answer that the English could not be depended upon, and that the wisest means of meeting the danger would be not to bring over a large retinue of Spaniards; while above all he urged that they should be conformable to English usages, and by their unobtrusive manners endeavor to conciliate these turbulent islanders. Thus, de

spite of block and gibbet, popular opinion spoke out, and compelled even the haughty Castilian to bow. In the midst of the general confusion Count Egmont arrived on his second embassy, and presented a diamond ring of great value to the queen: but even this was from the father; for the son, up to this time, had exchanged neither letter nor gift with his bride! There seems no doubt that the marriage was most distasteful to him; but, as Sandoval admiringly remarks, "like another Isaac, he sacrificed himself to the will of his father, and for the good of the church." This last remark Mr. Prescott unfortunately leaves untranslated; but it is extremely important, inasmuch as it shows that if Charles viewed this marriage chiefly as a political alliance, Philip considered his visit to England as a veritable crusade. At length the bridegroom's first token arrived-a most splendid jewel containing an almost priceless diamond; and Philip, having committed the government to his sister Joanna, embarked at Corunna, and, attended by a fleet of more than a hundred sail, landed at Southampton on the 19th of July. We are told that he was warmly welcomed on his arrival; but that he dared not encounter public feeling is proved by his not adventuring to land in London. As to the rejoicings there-the guns firing, bells ringing, and processions to the churches-these were no sure proofs of popular favor. Charles I. was as warmly welcomed only two short years before he quitted his capital never again to return till his execution. The warnings of Renard were not lost upon the Spanish king. He rode constantly abroad during his stay at Southampton, breakfasted and dined in public, drank healths after the English manner-even tasting our strong ale-and, more distasteful than even that draught, endeavoring to conform himself to the easy manners of his new subjects, and to greet them with studied courtesy. That he did so is strong proof, as Mr. Prescott remarks, of the strength of his apprehensions. He even dismissed hundreds of his attendants who had followed him from Spain; and when he set out to meet the queen at Winchester he was attended by English archers, but they were dressed in the yellow and red livery of the house of Arragon. A short interview with Mary took place, and as she spoke the Castilian as fluently as English, no interpreter was needed. Two days after, on the feast of

St. James, the patron saint of Spain, the marriage took place in Winchester Cathedral. Scarcely a stronger proof of Mary's dread of her subjects could, we think, be given, than the fact of her being married in a city which, although it claimed, many centuries before, to be the metropolis of Wessex, indeed of England, was now sunk into obscurity and decay. The whole ceremony was gorgeous in the extreme. Philip, in white satin and cloth of gold, with the collar of the golden fleece round his neck, and the garter below his knee, went on foot to the cathedral, where Mary, blazing with diamonds, soon after arrived; and here the long service was commenced by Gardiner-the primate Cranmer was now prisoner in the Tower-which lasted four hours! A solemn procession and a dainty banquet followed, and dancing concluded the evening.

A month passed ere Philip and Mary dared to enter the good city of London; and not until then, a contemporary informs us, were the mouldering heads and quarters of the sufferers in Wyatt's rising removed. The "loyal citizens," as Mr. Prescott terms them, were certainly not yet reconciled to their new sovereign; for, however on this occasion pageants might have decked the streets, and the conduits might have run with wine, we know that the pillory was in constant requisition for men, and women too, on account of seditious speeches; and a numerous watch, although the height of summer, still nightly patrolled the streets. The ostentatious display of treasure which Philip caused to be paraded through the streets on its way to the Tower, was a more pleasant sight; but the people, harassed with political changes, and already dreading religious persecution, seem to have little heeded it, or aught beside.

In marrying the queen, Philip had now fulfilled his duty to his father; his duty to "holy Church" next engaged his attention, so he prepared for the coming of Cardinal Pole, charged to restore the heretic kingdom to the true faith, by bestowing pensions to the amount of many thousand gold crowns on most of the queen's ministers, on the plea of recompensing their loyalty to their mistress. The bait was eagerly swallowed. Men who were loud for the Reformation in Edward's days, and who, on the accession of Elizabeth, again professed their hatred to "the Bishop of Rome, and all his detestable

enormities," now made most humble recantation of their heresies, and with the exulting king and queen welcomed the legate as he came up the Thames in his barge, blazing with scarlet and gold, and the legatine cross of solid silver glittering at the prow. And then followed that disgraceful scene, when the representatives of a proud nation knelt at the feet of a priest, and received his absolution and blessing, as they again bowed their necks to the Papal yoke. Well might it seem to Micheli, the Venetian ambassador, that "the example and authority of the sovereign are every thing to the people in matters of faith, and that they conform easily to his will;" but he had yet to learn, that a corrupt court is no representative of a people, nor is even a venal parliament. He was all unaware of the deep, stern spirit of resistance that was slowly gathering strength among the masses-of that attitude of quiet endurance, but steady determination, of the Englishman, which felt its strength, and therefore could afford to wait.

Meanwhile, Philip exultingly claimed in his letters the merit of having extirpated heresy in England, and his delighted father willingly gave him the full credit. But Philip's own confessor, after the first burnings in Smithfield, sternly denounced coërcion in matters of religion, and advanced opinions of such ultra-liberality that few polemics of that day would have indorsed them; so it has even been imagined that the monarch, who shed seas of blood in the Netherlands for the Romish faith, and who attended an auto de fé as a summer day's pastime, was actually grieved at the progress of persecution in England! Far more likely, as Mr. Prescott suggests, was it a ruse to obtain a slight tribute of respect from the people. That he felt the want of this we have many proofs; for even the foreign ambassadors remarked how little authority he possessed. The parliament, venal as it was, would not assent to his coronation, nor would it become a party to the French war. It was something new for the heir of Charles V. to express to subjects a wish, and to find it remain ungratified.

But his moral character, too, disgusted the English (although chafing under the harsh rule of Mary, they openly rejoiced that the husband on whom she lavished such devotion, was so notoriously unfaithful); and not improbably, those coarse rhymes,