take place speedily, in order that she might have the benefit of the oaths of allegiance of that part of the aristocracy who regarded oaths. But a great obstacle arose: there was no one to crown her. The archbishop of Canterbury was dead; Dr. Heath, the archbishop of York, positively refused to crown her as supreme head of the church; there were but five or six Catholic bishops surviving the pestilence, and they all obstinately refused to perform the ceremony, neither would they consecrate any new bishops who were of a different way of thinking. It was on the morning of Christmas-day that Elizabeth took the important step of personal secession from the mass. She appeared in her closet in great state at the celebration of the morning service, surrounded by her ladies and officers. Oglethorpe, bishop of Carlisle, was at the altar, preparing to officiate at high mass; but when the gospel was concluded, and every one expected that the queen would have made the usual offering, she rose abruptly, and with her whole retinue withdrew from the closet into her privy-chamber, which was strange to divers.' This retreat was to signify her disapprobation of the mass; yet she proceeded softly and gradually till she ascertained the tone of the new parliament, which had not yet met. Had her conduct on Christmas morning excited general reprobation instead of approbation, she could have excused it by attributing it to sudden indisposition. She next issued a proclamation, ordering that, from the approaching New-year's day, the litany should, with the epistle and gospel, be said in English in her chapel, and in all churches. Further alteration was not attempted just then, because Elizabeth considered it expedient to be crowned according to the rites of the church of Rome. As soon as she had made up her mind on that point, she sent her favourite, Robert Dudley, to request her confidential conjuror, Dr. Dee, to fix a lucky day for her inauguration.2 Dee had, as already noticed,3 been prosecuted for telling the fortune of Elizabeth 1 Ellis's Original Letters, vol. ii. p. 262; second Series. Letters of sir W. Fitzwilliam to Mr. More. The original is one of the Losely MSS. 2 Godwin's Life of Dr. Dee. He has drawn his information from Dr. Casaubon. Letter in the State-Paper office. Tytler's Edward and Mary, vol. ii. p. 479. when princess, and casting the nativity of queen Mary, to the infinite indignation of that queen. He had, it seems, made a lucky guess as to the short duration of Mary's life; and, truly, it required no great powers of divination to do so. Such was the foundation of queen Elizabeth's superstitious connexion with this disreputable quack; her confidential maid, too, Blanche Parry, (who was in all the secrets of her royal mistress, before and after her accession,) was an avowed disciple of Dr. Dee, and his pupil in alchymy and astrology.' The queen, her privy council, and Dr. Dee having agreed that Sunday, the 15th of January, would be the most suitable day for her coronation, she appointed the preceding day, Saturday the 14th, for her grand recognition-procession through the city of London. As this procession always commenced from the royal fortress of the Tower, the queen went thither in a state-barge on the 12th of January, from the palace of Westminster, by water. The lord mayor and his city companies met her on the Thames, "with their barges decked with banners of their crafts and mysteries." The mayor's own company, namely, the mercers', had "a bachelors' barge and an attendant foyst, with artillery shooting off lustily as they went, with great and pleasant melody of instruments, which played in a sweet and heavenly manner." Her majesty shot the bridge about two o'clock, at the still of the ebb, the lord mayor with the other barges following her, and she landed at the private stairs on Tower-wharf. The queen was occupied the next day by making knights of the Bath. She likewise created or restored five peers; among others, she made her mother's nephew, sir Henry Carey, lord Hunsdon. The regal procession through the city of London derived its peculiar interest from the constant drama acted between the new queen and the populace. Elizabeth left the Tower about two in the afternoon, seated, royally attired, in a chariot covered with crimson velvet, which had a canopy borne over it by knights, one of whom was her illegitimate brother, sir 1 Lodge's Illustrations. John Perrot. "The queen," says George Ferrers, who was an officer in the procession," as she entered the city was received by the people with prayers, welcomings, cries, and tender words, and all signs which argue an earnest love of subjects towards their sovereign; and the queen, by holding up her hands and glad countenance to such as stood afar off, and most tender language to those that stood nigh to her grace, showed herself no less thankful to receive the people's good-will, than they to offer it. To all that wished her well, she gave thanks. To such as bade 'God save her grace!' she said, in return, 'God save you all!' and added, 'that she thanked them with all her heart.' Wonderfully transported were the people with the loving answers and gestures of their queen. The city of London might, at that time, have been termed a stage, wherein was shown the spectacle of the noblehearted queen's demeanour towards her most loving people, and the people's exceeding joy at beholding such a sovereign, and hearing so princely a voice. How many nosegays did her grace receive at poor women's hands! How often stayed she her chariot, when she saw any simple body approach to speak to her! A branch of rosemary given to her majesty, with a supplication, by a poor woman about Fleet-bridge, was seen in her chariot when her grace came to Westminster, not without the wondering of such as knew the presenter, and noted the queen's gracious reception and keeping the same." An apt simile to the stage seems irresistibly to have taken possession of the brain of our worthy dramatist, George Ferrers, in the midst of this pretty description of his liege lady's performance. However, her majesty adapted her part well to her audience, a little coarsely in the matter of gesture, perhaps, as more casting up her eyes to heaven, signing with her hands, and moulding of her features are described, in the course of the narrative, than are exactly consistent with the good taste of a gentlewoman in these days; nevertheless, her spectators were not very far advanced in civilization, and she dexterously adapted her style of performance to their appreciation. He is the real author of this curious narrative, printed in Holinshed. The pageants began in Fenchurch-street, where a "fair child," in costly apparel, was placed on a stage to welcome her majesty to the city. The last verse of his greeting may serve as a specimen of the rest : "Welcome, O queen, as much as heart can think! Welcome again, as much as tongue can tell! Welcome to joyous tongues and hearts that will not shrink! "And At the words of the last line the people gave a great shout, repeating, with one assent, what the child had said.1 the queen's majesty thanked graciously both the city for her reception, and the people for confirming the same. Here was noted the perpetual attentiveness in the queen's countenance while the child spake, and a marvellous change in her look as the word touched either her or the people; so that her rejoicing visage declared that the words took their place in her mind." Thus Elizabeth, who steered her way so skilfully till she attained the highest worldly prosperity, appreciated the full influence of the "mute angel of attention." It is evident she knew how to listen as well as to speak. "At the upper end of Gracechurch-street, before the sign of the Eagle, [perhaps the Spread Eagle,] the city had erected a gorgeous arch, beneath which was a stage, which stretched from one side of the street to the other. This was an historical pageant, representing the queen's immediate progenitors. There sat Elizabeth of York, in the midst of an immense white rose, whose petals formed elaborate furbelows round her; by her side was Henry VII. issuing out of a vast red rose, disposed in the same manner; the hands of the royal pair were locked together, and the wedding ring which effected the auspicious union between the rival houses whose badges they were, was ostentatiously displayed. From the red and white roses proceeded a stem which reached up to a second stage, occupied by Henry VIII., issuing from a red and white rose; and, for the first time since her disgrace and execution, was the effigy of the queen's mother, Anne Boleyn, represented by his side. One branch sprang from this pair, which mounted to a third stage, where sat the effigy of queen 1 Holinshed, vol. ii. p. 1787. Elizabeth herself, enthroned in royal majesty; and the whole pageant was framed with wreaths of roses, red and white." By the time the queen had arrived before this quaint spectacle, her loving lieges had become so outrageously noisy in their glee, that there were all talkers and no hearers: not a word that the child said, who was appointed to explain the whole puppet-show and repeat some verses, could be heard, and the queen was forced to command and entreat silence. Her chariot had passed so far forward that she could not well view the said kings and queens, but she ordered it to be backed; "yet scarcely could she see, because the child who spoke was placed too much within." Besides, it is well known Elizabeth was near-sighted, as well as her sister. As she entered Cornhill, one of the knights who bore her canopy, observed that an ancient citizen turned away and wept. "Yonder is an alderman," he said to the queen, "which weepeth and averteth his face."-"I warrant it is for joy," replied the queen. "A gracious interpretation," adds the narrator, "which makes the best of the doubtful." In Cheapside she smiled, and being asked the reason, she replied, "Because I have just heard one say in the crowd, I remember old king Harry the Eighth."" A scriptural pageant was placed on a stage, which spanned the entrance of Soper's-lane; it represented the eight beatitudes, prettily personified by beautiful children. One of these addressed the queen in the following lines, which are a more favourable specimen than usual of pageant poetry :— "Thou hast been eight times blest, O queen of worthy fame! By mourning in thy grief, by mildness in thy blame, By mercy showed, not proved, by pureness of thine heart, Therefore trust thou in God, since he hath helped thy smart, The people all responded to the wishes the little spokesman had uttered, whom the queen most gently thanked for their loving good-will. 1 Holinshed, p. 1788. |