QUEEN ELIZABETH AND THE EARL OF LEICESTER

  History has many romantic stories to tell of the part which women haveplayed in determining the destinies of nations. Sometimes it is awoman's beauty that causes the shifting of a province. Again it isanother woman's rich possessions that incite invasion and lead tobloody wars. Marriages or dowries, or the refusal of marriages and thelack of dowries, inheritance through an heiress, the failure of a malesuccession--in these and in many other ways women have set their markindelibly upon the trend of history.

  However, if we look over these different events we shall find that itis not so much the mere longing for a woman--the desire to have her asa queen--that has seriously affected the annals of any nation. Kings,like ordinary men, have paid their suit and then have ridden awayrepulsed, yet not seriously dejected. Most royal marriages are madeeither to secure the succession to a throne by a legitimate line ofheirs or else to unite adjoining states and make a powerful kingdom outof two that are less powerful. But, as a rule, kings have found greaterdelight in some sheltered bower remote from courts than in the castledhalls and well-cared-for nooks where their own wives and children havebeen reared with all the appurtenances of legitimacy.

  There are not many stories that hang persistently about the love-makingof a single woman. In the case of one or another we may find an episodeor two--something dashing, something spirited or striking, somethingbrilliant and exhilarating, or something sad. But for a woman's wholelife to be spent in courtship that meant nothing and that was only aclever aid to diplomacy--this is surely an unusual and really wonderfulthing.

  It is the more unusual because the woman herself was not intended bynature to be wasted upon the cold and cheerless sport of chancellorsand counselors and men who had no thought of her except to use her as apawn. She was hot-blooded, descended from a fiery race, and one whosetemper was quick to leap into the passion of a man.

  In studying this phase of the long and interesting life of Elizabeth ofEngland we must notice several important facts. In the first place, shegave herself, above all else, to the maintenance of England--not anEngland that would be half Spanish or half French, or even partly Dutchand Flemish, but the Merry England of tradition--the England that wasone and undivided, with its growing freedom of thought, its bows andbills, its nut-brown ale, its sturdy yeomen, and its loyalty to crownand Parliament. She once said, almost as in an agony:

  "I love England more than anything!"

  And one may really hold that this was true.

  For England she schemed and planned. For England she gave up many ofher royal rights. For England she descended into depths of treachery.For England she left herself on record as an arrant liar, false,perjured, yet successful; and because of her success for England's sakeher countrymen will hold her in high remembrance, since her schemingand her falsehood are the offenses that one pardons most readily in awoman.

  In the second place, it must be remembered that Elizabeth's courtshipsand pretended love-makings were almost always a part of her diplomacy.When not a part of her diplomacy they were a mere appendage to hervanity. To seem to be the flower of the English people, and to besurrounded by the noblest, the bravest, and the most handsomecavaliers, not only of her own kingdom, but of others--this was,indeed, a choice morsel of which she was fond of tasting, even thoughit meant nothing beyond the moment.

  Finally, though at times she could be very cold, and though she madeherself still colder in order that she might play fast and loose withforeign suitors who played fast and loose with her--the King of Spain,the Duc d'Alencon, brother of the French king, with an Austrianarchduke, with a magnificent barbarian prince of Muscovy, with Eric ofSweden, or any other Scandinavian suitor--she felt a woman's need forsome nearer and more tender association to which she might give freerplay and in which she might feel those deeper emotions without thedanger that arises when love is mingled with diplomacy.

  Let us first consider a picture of the woman as she really was in orderthat we may understand her triple nature--consummate mistress of everyart that statesmen know, and using at every moment her person as alure; a vain-glorious queen who seemed to be the prey of boundlessvanity; and, lastly, a woman who had all a woman's passion, and whocould cast suddenly aside the check and balance which restrained herbefore the public gaze and could allow herself to give full play to theemotion that she inherited from the king, her father, who was himself amarvel of fire and impetuosity. That the daughter of Henry VIII. andAnne Boleyn should be a gentle, timid maiden would be to make hereditya farce.

  Elizabeth was about twenty-five years of age when she ascended thethrone of England. It is odd that the date of her birth cannot be givenwith precision. The intrigues and disturbances of the English court,and the fact that she was a princess, made her birth a matter of lessaccount than if there had been no male heir to the throne. At any rate,when she ascended it, after the deaths of her brother, King Edward VI.,and her sister, Queen Mary, she was a woman well trained both inintellect and in physical development.

  Mr. Martin Hume, who loves to dwell upon the later years of QueenElizabeth, speaks rather bitterly of her as a "painted old harridan";and such she may well have seemed when, at nearly seventy years of age,she leered and grinned a sort of skeleton smile at the handsome youngcourtiers who pretended to see in her the queen of beauty and to bedying for love of her.

  Yet, in her earlier years, when she was young and strong and impetuous,she deserved far different words than these. The portrait of her byZucchero, which now hangs in Hampton Court, depicts her when she musthave been of more than middle age; and still the face is one of beauty,though it be a strange and almost artificial beauty--one that draws,attracts, and, perhaps, lures you on against your will.

  It is interesting to compare this painting with the frank word-pictureof a certain German agent who was sent to England by his emperor, andwho seems to have been greatly fascinated by Queen Elizabeth. She wasat that time in the prime of her beauty and her power. Her complexionwas of that peculiar transparency which is seen only in the face ofgolden blondes. Her figure was fine and graceful, and her wit anaccomplishment that would have made a woman of any rank or timeremarkable. The German envoy says:

  She lives a life of such magnificence and feasting as can hardly beimagined, and occupies a great portion of her time with balls,banquets, hunting, and similar amusements, with the utmost possibledisplay, but nevertheless she insists upon far greater respect beingshown her than was exacted by Queen Mary. She summons Parliament, butlets them know that her orders must be obeyed in any case.

  If any one will look at the painting by Zucchero he will see how muchis made of Elizabeth's hands--a distinctive feature quite as noble withthe Tudors as is the "Hapsburg lip" among the descendants of the houseof Austria. These were ungloved, and were very long and white, and shelooked at them and played with them a great deal; and, indeed, theyjustified the admiration with which they were regarded by herflatterers.

  Such was the personal appearance of Elizabeth. When a young girl, wehave still more favorable opinions of her that were written by thosewho had occasion to be near her. Not only do they record swift glimpsesof her person, but sometimes in a word or two they give an insight intocertain traits of mind which came out prominently in her later years.

  It may, perhaps, be well to view her as a woman before we regard hermore fully as a queen. It has been said that Elizabeth inherited manyof the traits of her father--the boldness of spirit, the rapidity ofdecision, and, at the same time, the fox-like craft which often showeditself when it was least expected.

  Henry had also, as is well known, a love of the other sex, which hasmade his reign memorable. And yet it must be noted that while he lovedmuch, it was not loose love. Many a king of England, from Henry II. toCharles II., has offended far more than Henry VIII. Where Henry loved,he married; and it was the unfortunate result of these royal marriagesthat has made him seem unduly fond of women. If, however, we examineeach one of the separate espousals we
shall find that he did not enterinto it lightly, and that he broke it off unwillingly. His ardenttemperament, therefore, was checked by a certain rational orconventional propriety, so that he was by no means a loose liver, asmany would make him out to be.

  We must remember this when we recall the charges that have been madeagainst Elizabeth, and the strange stories that were told of hertricks--by no means seemly tricks--which she used to play with herguardian, Lord Thomas Seymour. The antics she performed with him in herdressing-room were made the subject of an official inquiry; yet it cameout that while Elizabeth was less than sixteen, and Lord Thomas wasvery much her senior, his wife was with him on his visits to thechamber of the princess.

  Sir Robert Tyrwhitt and his wife were also sent to question her,Tyrwhitt had a keen mind and one well trained to cope with any other'swit in this sort of cross-examination. Elizabeth was only a girl offifteen, yet she was a match for the accomplished courtier in diplomacyand quick retort. He was sent down to worm out of her everything thatshe knew. Threats and flattery and forged letters and false confessionswere tried on her; but they were tried in vain. She would tell nothingof importance. She denied everything. She sulked, she cried, sheavailed herself of a woman's favorite defense in suddenly attackingthose who had attacked her. She brought counter charges againstTyrwhitt, and put her enemies on their own defense. Not a compromisingword could they wring out of her.

  She bitterly complained of the imprisonment of her governess, Mrs.Ashley, and cried out:

  "I have not so behaved that you need put more mistresses upon me!"

  Altogether, she was too much for Sir Robert, and he was wise enough torecognize her cleverness.

  "She hath a very good wit," said he, shrewdly; "and nothing is to begotten of her except by great policy." And he added: "If I had to saymy fancy, I think it more meet that she should have two governessesthan one."

  Mr. Hume notes the fact that after the two servants of the princess hadbeen examined and had told nothing very serious they found that theyhad been wise in remaining friends of the royal girl. No sooner hadElizabeth become queen than she knighted the man Parry and made himtreasurer of the household, while Mrs. Ashley, the governess, wastreated with great consideration. Thus, very naturally, Mr. Hume says:"They had probably kept back far more than they told."

  Even Tyrwhitt believed that there was a secret compact between them,for he said, quaintly: "They all sing one song, and she hath set thenote for them."

  Soon after this her brother Edward's death brought to the throne herelder sister, Mary, who has harshly become known as Bloody Mary. Duringthis time Elizabeth put aside her boldness, and became apparently a shyand simple-minded virgin. Surrounded on every side by those who soughtto trap her, there was nothing in her bearing to make her seem the headof a party or the young chief of a faction. Nothing could exceed her inmeekness. She spoke of her sister in the humblest terms. She exhibitedno signs of the Tudor animation that was in reality so strong a part ofher character.

  But, coming to the throne, she threw away her modesty and brawled andrioted with very little self-restraint. The people as a whole foundlittle fault with her. She reminded them of her father, the bluff KingHal; and even those who criticized her did so only partially. Theythought much better of her than they had of her saturnine sister, thefirst Queen Mary.

  The life of Elizabeth has been very oddly misunderstood, not so muchfor the facts in it as for the manner in which these have been arrangedand the relation which they have to one another. We ought to recollectthat this woman did not live in a restricted sphere, that her life wasnot a short one, and that it was crowded with incidents and full ofvivid color. Some think of her as living for a short period of time andspeak of the great historical characters who surrounded her asbelonging to a single epoch. To them she has one set of suitors all thetime--the Duc d'Alencon, the King of Denmark's brother, the Prince ofSweden, the russian potentate, the archduke sending her sweet messagesfrom Austria, the melancholy King of Spain, together with a number ofher own brilliant Englishmen--Sir William Pickering, Sir Robert Dudley,Lord Darnley, the Earl of Essex, Sir Philip Sidney, and Sir WalterRaleigh.

  Of course, as a matter of fact, Elizabeth lived for nearly seventyyears--almost three-quarters of a century--and in that long time therecame and went both men and women, those whom she had used and castaside, with others whom she had also treated with gratitude, and whohad died gladly serving her. But through it all there was a continualchange in her environment, though not in her. The young soldier went tothe battle-field and died; the wise counselor gave her his advice, andshe either took it or cared nothing for it. She herself was a curiousblending of forwardness and folly, of wisdom and wantonness, offrivolity and unbridled fancy. But through it all she loved her people,even though she often cheated them and made them pay her taxes in theharsh old way that prevailed before there was any right save the king'swill.

  At the same time, this was only by fits and starts, and on the wholeshe served them well. Therefore, to most of them she was always thegood Queen Bess. What mattered it to the ditcher and yeoman, far fromthe court, that the queen was said to dance in her nightdress and toswear like a trooper?

  It was, indeed, largely from these rustic sources that such storieswere scattered throughout England. Peasants thought them picturesque.More to the point with them were peace and prosperity throughout thecountry, the fact that law was administered with honesty and justice,and that England was safe from her deadly enemies--the swarthySpaniards and the scheming French.

  But, as I said, we must remember always that the Elizabeth of oneperiod was not the Elizabeth of another, and that the England of oneperiod was not the England of another. As one thinks of it, there issomething wonderful in the almost star-like way in which this girlflitted unharmed through a thousand perils. Her own countrymen were atfirst divided against her; a score of greedy, avaricious suitors soughther destruction, or at least her hand to lead her to destruction allthe great powers of the Continent were either demanding an alliancewith England or threatening to dash England down amid their owndissensions.

  What had this girl to play off against such dangers? Only an undauntedspirit, a scheming mind that knew no scruples, and finally her ownperson and the fact that she was a woman, and, therefore, might giveherself in marriage and become the mother of a race of kings.

  It was this last weapon, the weapon of her sex, that proved, perhaps,the most powerful of all. By promising a marriage or by denying it, orby neither promising nor denying but withholding it, she gave forth athousand wily intimations which kept those who surrounded her at bayuntil she had made still another deft and skilful combination, escapinglike some startled creature to a new place of safety.

  In 1583, when she was fifty years of age, she had reached a point whenher courtships and her pretended love-making were no longer necessary.She had played Sweden against Denmark, and France against Spain, andthe Austrian archduke against the others, and many suitors in her ownland against the different factions which they headed. She might havesat herself down to rest; for she could feel that her wisdom had ledher up into a high place, whence she might look down in peace and withassurance of the tranquillity that she had won. Not yet had the greatArmada rolled and thundered toward the English shores. But she wascertain that her land was secure, compact, and safe.

  It remains to see what were those amatory relations which she may besaid to have sincerely held. She had played at love-making with foreignprinces, because it was wise and, for the moment, best. She had playedwith Englishmen of rank who aspired to her hand, because in that wayshe might conciliate, at one time her Catholic and at another herProtestant subjects. But what of the real and inward feeling of herheart, when she was not thinking of political problems or thenecessities of state!

  This is an interesting question. One may at least seek the answer,hoping thereby to solve one of the most interesting phases of thisperplexing and most remarkable woman.

  It must be remembered that it was
not a question of whether Elizabethdesired marriage. She may have done so as involving a brilliant strokeof policy. In this sense she may have wished to marry one of the twoFrench princes who were among her suitors. But even here she hesitated,and her Parliament disapproved; for by this time England had becomelargely Protestant. Again, had she married a French prince and hadchildren, England might have become an appanage of France.

  There is no particular evidence that she had any feeling at all for herFlemish, Austrian, or Russian suitors, while the Swede's pretensionswere the laughing-stock of the English court. So we may set aside thisquestion of marriage as having nothing to do with her emotional life.She did desire a son, as was shown by her passionate outcry when shecompared herself with Mary of Scotland.

  "The Queen of Scots has a bonny son, while I am but a barren stock!"

  She was too wise to wed a subject; though, had she married at all, herchoice would doubtless have been an Englishman. In this respect, as inso many others, she was like her father, who chose his numerous wives,with the exception of the first, from among the English ladies of thecourt; just as the showy Edward IV. was happy in marrying "DameElizabeth Woodville." But what a king may do is by no means so easy fora queen; and a husband is almost certain to assume an authority whichmakes him unpopular with the subjects of his wife.

  Hence, as said above, we must consider not so much whom she would haveliked to marry, but rather to whom her love went out spontaneously, andnot as a part of that amatory play which amused her from the time whenshe frisked with Seymour down to the very last days, when she could nolonger move about, but when she still dabbled her cheeks with rouge andpowder and set her skeleton face amid a forest of ruffs.

  There were many whom she cared for after a fashion. She would not letSir Walter Raleigh visit her American colonies, because she could notbear to have him so long away from her. She had great moments ofpassion for the Earl of Essex, though in the end she signed hisdeath-warrant because he was as dominant in spirit as the queen herself.

  Readers of Sir Walter Scott's wonderfully picturesque novel,Kenilworth, will note how he throws the strongest light uponElizabeth's affection for Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. Scott'shistorical instinct is united here with a vein of psychology which goesdeeper than is usual with him. We see Elizabeth trying hard to shareher favor equally between two nobles; but the Earl of Essex fails toplease her because he lacked those exquisite manners which madeLeicester so great a favorite with the fastidious queen.

  Then, too, the story of Leicester's marriage with Amy Robsart issomething more than a myth, based upon an obscure legend and an ancientballad. The earl had had such a wife, and there were sinister storiesabout the manner of her death. But it is Scott who invents thevillainous Varney and the bulldog Anthony Foster; just as he broughtthe whole episode into the foreground and made it occur at a periodmuch later than was historically true. Still, Scott felt--and he wasimbued with the spirit and knowledge of that time--a strong convictionthat Elizabeth loved Leicester as she really loved no one else.

  There is one interesting fact which goes far to convince us. Just asher father was, in a way, polygamous, so Elizabeth was even more trulypolyandrous. It was inevitable that she should surround herself withattractive men, whose love-locks she would caress and whose flatteriesshe would greedily accept. To the outward eye there was very littledifference in her treatment of the handsome and daring nobles of hercourt; yet a historian of her time makes one very shrewd remark when hesays: "To every one she gave some power at times--to all saveLeicester."

  Cecil and Walsingham in counsel and Essex and Raleigh in the fieldmight have their own way at times, and even share the sovereign'spower, but to Leicester she intrusted no high commands and no importantmission. Why so? Simply because she loved him more than any of therest; and, knowing this, she knew that if besides her love she grantedhim any measure of control or power, then she would be but half a queenand would be led either to marry him or else to let him sway her as hewould.

  For the reason given, one may say with confidence that, whileElizabeth's light loves were fleeting, she gave a deep affection tothis handsome, bold, and brilliant Englishman and cherished him in afar different way from any of the others. This was as near as she evercame to marriage, and it was this love at least which makesShakespeare's famous line as false as it is beautiful, when hedescribes "the imperial votaress" as passing by "in maiden meditation,fancy free."