sciences, and to remember that the theatre of the world was much more extensive than that of the kingdom of England. At length the vice-chamberlain Hatton vanquished her objections, by representing that she injured her reputation by avoiding a trial, in which her innocence might be proved to the satisfaction of all mankind. This observation made such an impression upon her, that she agreed to plead, if they would admit and allow her protest, of disallowing all subjection. This, however they refused, but they satisfied her, by entering it upon record; and thus they proceeded to a trial.

The principal charge against her was urged by sergeant Gaudy, who accused her of knowing, approving, and consenting to, Babington's conspiracy. This charge was supported by Babington's confession, by the copies which were taken of their correspondence, in which her approbation of the queen's murder was expressly declared; by the evidence of her own secretaries, Nan a Frenchman, and Curll a Scotchman, who swore that she received the letters of that conspirator, and that they had answered them by her orders. These allegations were corroborated by the testimany of Ballard and Savage, to whom Babington had shown some letters, declaring them to have come from the captive queen. To these charges Mary made a sensible and resolute defence; she said Babington's confession was extorted by his fears of the torture, which was really the case: she alleged that the letters were forgeries, and she defied her secretaries to persist in their evidence, if brought into her presence. She owned, indeed, that she had used her best endeavours to recover her liberty, which was only pursuing the dictates of nature; but as for harbouring a thought against the life of the queen, she treated the idea with horror. In a letter which was read during the trial, mention was made of the earl of Arundel and his brothers. On hearing their names, she shed a flood of tears, exclaiming, "Alas! what hath the noble house of Howard endured for my sake!" She took occasion also to observe, that this letter might have been a base contrivance of Walsingham, who had frequently practised both against her life and that of her son. Walsingham, thus accused, rose up, and protested that his heart was free from malice; that he had never done anything unbecoming an honest man in his private capacity, nor aught unworthy of the place he occupied in the state. Mary declared herself satisfied of his innocence, and begged he would give as little credit to the malicious accusations of her enemies, as she now gave to the reports which she had heard to his prejudice.

Whatever might have been the queen's offences, it is certain that her treatment was very severe. She desired to be put in possession of such notes as she had taken preparative to her trial; but this was refused her. She demanded a copy of her protest; but her request was not complied with: she even required an advocate to plead her cause against so many learned lawyers as had undertaken to urge her accusations; but all her demands were rejected; and, after an adjournment of some days, sentence of death was pronounced against her in the Star-chamber in Westminster all the commissioners except two being present. At the same time a declaration was published by the commissioners, implying, that the sentence against her did in no wise derogate from the title and honour of James, king of Scotland, son to the attainted queen.

Though the condemnation of a sovereign princess at a tribunal to which she owed no subjection, was an injustice that must strike the most inattentive, yet the parliament of England did not fail to approve the sentence, and to go still farther, in presenting an address to the queen, desiring that it might speedily be put into execution. But Elizabeth still felt or pretended to feel, a horror for such precipitate severity. She entreated the two houses to find some expedient to save her from the necessity of taking a step so repugnant to her inclination. But at the same

time she seemed to dread another conspiracy to assassinate her within a month; which probably was only an artifice of her ministers to increase her apprehensions, and, consequently, her desire of being rid of a rival that had given her so much disturbance. The parliament, however, reiterated their solicitations, arguments, and entreaties; and even remonstrated, that mercy to the queen of Scots was cruelty to them, her subjects, and her children. Elizabeth affected to continue inflexible, but at the same time permitted Mary's sentence to be made public; and lord Buckhurst, and Beale, clerk to the council, were sent to the unhappy queen to apprise her of the sentence, and of the popular clamour for its speedy execution.

Upon receiving this dreadful information, Mary seemed no way moved; but insisted, that since her death was demanded by the protestants, she died a martyr to the catholic religion. She said, that as the English often embrued their hands in the blood of their own sovereigns, it was not to be wondered at that they exercised their cruelty towards her. She wrote her last letter to Elizabeth, not demanding her life, which she now seemed willing to part with, but desiring that, after her enemies should be satiated with her innocent blood, her body might be consigned to her servants, and conveyed to France, there to repose in a catholic country, with the sacred remains of her mother.

In the mean time, accounts of this extraordinary sentence were spread into all parts of Europe; and the king of France was among the foremost who attempted to avert the threatened blow. He sent over Believre as an extraordinary ambassador, with a professed intention of interceding for the life of Mary. But James of Scotland, her son, was, as in duty obliged, still more pressing in her behalf. He despatched Keith, a gentleman of his bed-chamber, with a letter to Elizabeth, conjuring her to spare the life of his parent, and mixing threats of vengeance in case of a refusal. Elizabeth treated his remonstrances with the utmost indignation; and when the Scottish ambassador begged that the execution might be put off for a week, the queen answered with great emotion, "No, not for an hour." Thus Elizabeth, when solicited by foreign princes to pardon the queen of Scots, seemed always disposed to proceed to extremities against her; but when her ministers urged her to strike the blow, her scruples and her reluctance seemed to return.

Whether the queen was really sincere in her reluctance to execute Mary, is a question which, though usually given against her, I will not take upon me to determine. Certainly there were great arts used by her courtiers to determine her to the side of severity, as they had everything to fear from the resentment of Mary, in case of her succeeding to the throne. Accordingly, the kingdom was now filled with rumours of plots, treasons, and insurrections; and the queen was continually kept in alarm by fictitious dangers. She therefore appeared to be in great terror and perplexity; she was observed to sit much alone, and to mutter to herself halfsentences, importing the difficulty and distress to which she was reduced. In this situation she one day called her secretary, Davidson, whom she ordered to draw out secretly the warrant for Mary's execution, informing him, that she intended to keep it by her in case any attempt should be made for the delivery of that princess. She signed the warrant, and then commanded it to be carried to the chancellor to have the scal affixed to it. Next morning, however, she sent two gentlemen successively, to desire that Davidson would not go to the chancellor, until she should see him; but the secretary telling her that the warrant had been already sealed, she seemed displeased at his precipitation. Davidson, who probably wished to see the sentence executed, laid the affair before the council, who unanimously resolved, that the warrant should be immediately put in execution, and promised to justify Davidson to the queen. Accordingly, the fatal instrument was delivered to Beale, who summoned the noblemen to whom it was directed, namely, the earls of Shrews

bury, Derby, Kent, and Cumberland; and these together set out for Fotheringay castle, accompanied by two executioners, to despatch their bloody commission.

Mary heard of the arrival of her executioners, who ordered her to prepare for death by eight o'clock the next morning. Without any alarm, she heard the deathwarrant read with her usual composure, though she could not help expressing her surprise, that the queen of England should consent to her execution. She even abjured her being privy to any conspiracy against Elizabeth, by laying her hand upon a New Testament, which happened to lie on the table. She desired that her confessor might be permitted to attend her; which, however, these zealots refused. After the earls had retired, she ate sparingly at supper, while she comforted her attendants (who continued weeping and lamenting the fate of their mistress) with a cheerful countenance, telling them they ought not to mourn, but to rejoice, at the prospect of her speedy deliverance from a world of misery. Towards the end of supper, she called in all her servants, and drank to them; they pledged her in order on their knees, and craved her pardon for any past neglect of duty. She craved mutual forgiveness; and a plentiful effusion of tears attended this last solemn separation.

After this she reviewed her will, and perused the inventory of her effects. These she bequeathed to different individuals, and divided her money among her domestics, recommending them in letters to the king of France and the duke of Guise. Then going to bed at her usual hour, she passed part of the night in uninterrupted repose, and, rising, spent the remainder in prayer and acts of devotion. Towards morning, she dressed herself in a rich habit of silk and velvet, the only one which she had reserved for this solemn occasion. Thomas Andrews, the under-sheriff of the county, then entering the room, informed her that the hour was come, and that he must attend her to the place of execution. She replied, that she was ready; and, bidding her servants farewell, she proceeded, supported by two of her guards, and followed the sheriff with a serene composed aspect, with a long veil of linen on her head, and in her hand a crucifix of ivory. In passing through a hall adjoining to her chamber, Sir Andrew Melvil, master of her household, fell upon his knees, and, shedding a flood of tears, lamented his misforture in being doomed to carry the news of her unhappy fate to Scotland. "Lament not," said she, "but rather rejoice. Mary Stuart will soon be freed from all her cares. Tell my friends that I die constant in my religion, and firm in my affection and fidelity to Scotland and France. God forgive them that have long desired my end, and have thirsted for my blood as the hart panteth for the water brook! Thou, O God, who art truth itself, and perfectly understandest the inmost thoughts of my heart, knowest how greatly I have desired that the realms of Scotland and England might be united. Commend me to my son, and assure him I have done nothing prejudicial to the state or the crown of Scotland. Admonish him to persevere in amity and friendship with the queen of England; and, for thy own part, do him faithful service. And so, good Melvil, farewell; once again farewell, good Melvil, and grant the assistance of thy prayers to thy queen and thy mistress." In this place she was received by the four noblemen, who with great difficulty were prevailed upon to allow Melvil, with her physician, apothecary, and two female attendants, to be present at her execution. She then passed (the noblemen and the sheriff going before, and Melvil bearing up her train) into another hall, where was a scaffold erected, and covered with black. As soon as she was seated, Beale began to read the warrant for her execution. Then Fletcher, dean of Peterborough, standing without the rails, repeated a long exhortation, which she desired him to forbear, as she was firmly resolved to die in the catholic religion. The room was crowded with spectators, who beheld her with pity and distress, while her beauty, though dimmed by age and affliction, gleamed

HALF HOURS OF ENGLISH HISTORY.

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The earl of

through her sufferings, and was still remarkable in this fatal moment. Kent, observing that in her devotions she made frequent use of the crucifix, could not forbear reproving her, exhorting her to have Christ in her heart, not in her hand. She replied, with presence of mind, that it was difficult to hold such an object in her hand, without feeling her heart touched for the sufferings of him whom it represented. She now began, with the aid of her two women, to undress for the block; and the executioner also lent his hand to assist them. She smiled, and said that she was not accustomed to undress herself before so large a company, or to be attended by such servants. Her women bursting into tears and loud exclamations of sorrow, she turned about to them, put her finger upon her lips, as a sign of imposing silence upon them; and having given them her blessing, desired their prayers in return. The two executioners kneeling, and asking her pardon, she said she forgave them, and all the authors of her death, as freely as she hoped forgiveness of her Maker; and once more made a solemn protestation of her innocence. eyes were then covered with a linen handkerchief; she laid herself down without Her any fear or trepidation, and when she had recited a psalm, and repeated a pious ejaculation, her bead was severed from her body at two strokes. The executioner instantly held it up to the spectators, streaming with blood, and agitated with the convulsions of death. The dean of Peterborough alone exclaimed, "So perish all queen Elizabeth's enemies! The earl of Kent replied Amen, while the rest of the spectators wept and sighed at this affecting spectacle; for flattery and zeal alike gave place to stronger and better emotions. Thus died Mary, in the forty-fifth year of her age, and the nineteenth of her captivity-a princess unmatched in beauty, and unequalled in misfortunes. find almost ever both sides culpable: Mary, who was stained with crimes that deIn contemplating the contentions of mankind, we served punishment, was put to death by a princess who had no right to inflict punishment on her equal.

174.-THE SPANISH ARMADA.

FROM "THE PLAIN ENGLISHMAN."

The spirit of bigotry and tyranny, by which Philip II. of Spain, formerly wedded to Mary, Queen of England, was actuated, with the fraudulent maxims which governed his counsels, excited the most violent agitation among his own people, engaged him in acts of the greatest cruelty, and threw all Europe into alarm. He had long harboured a secret and violent desire of revenge against Queen Elizabeth, to execute which he formed the plan of an invasion of England, by fitting out his invincible armada.

Many circumstances contributed to his hatred of Elizabeth. The rejection of his hand on the death of her sister; her support of the Protestant cause; the great and decisive part that she embraced to prevent his oppression of the Netherlands; and her successes in Spanish America; these circumstances excited the jealousy of Philip, and induced him to believe that, by her subjection, he should acquire the renown of re-uniting the whole Christian world in the Catholic communion.

At this period Spain was rich and populous. Philip had lately annexed the kingdom of Portugal to his dominions.

All the princes of Italy, even the pope and the court of Rome, were reduced to a kind of subjection under him, and seemed to possess their sovereignty on terms somewhat precarious. The Austrian branch in Germany, with their dependant principalities, was closely connected with him, and was ready to supply him with troops for every enterprise.

Three years had been spent by Philip in secretly making great preparations for this enterprise. The project, indeed, was formed after the Queen of Scots had been persuaded to make over to him her right to England, as being the only plan to restore there the Catholic religion. Besides this vague right, conveyed by will, he thought he might justly claim the crown of England as being the next Catholic prince descended, by the female line, from the Duke of Lancaster, fourth son of Edward III. Pope Sextus IV., not less ambitious than Philip, excited him to the invasion of England. He again excommunicated the queen. All the ports of Spain resounded with preparations for this alarming expedition; and the Spaniards seemed to threaten the English with a total annihilation.

The fleet, which, on account of its prodigious strength, was called "the Invincible Armada," was completed in 1588.

The English fleet at this time consisted only of twenty-eight sail, most of which were very small vessels; but the alacrity of Elizabeth's subjects sufficiently atoned for the weakness of her navy. The maritime towns, the nobility and gentry, testified the greatest zeal on this occasion. The city of London fitted out thirty ships, though fifteen only had been required. The gentry and nobility hired and armed forty-three ships, at their own expense. Lord Howard, of Effingham, a man of great courage and capacity, was Lord Admiral, and took upon him the command of the navy. Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher, the most renowned seamen in Europe, served under him. The main fleet was stationed at Plymouth, while a smaller fleet, consisting of forty vessels, under the command of Lord Seymour, lay off Dunkirk, in order to intercept the forces commanded by the Duke of Parma.

Twenty thousand land forces were cantoned along the southern coasts of England; another body of disciplined troops encamped at Tilbury, near the mouth of the Thames, under the command of the Earl of Leicester, whom the queen, on this occasion, created general in chief of all her forces; and the Lord Hunsden commanded a third army, consisting of thirty thousand men, for the defence of her majesty's person, and to march to that part of the coast on which the enemy might make their chief landing.

The chief hopes of Elizabeth were placed in the affections of her people. Party distinctions were forgotten, and every man exerted himself in the defence of his country.

The magnanimity of Elizabeth was remarkable on this trying occasion. She appeared on horseback in the camp of Tilbury, harangued her army, and expressed an entire confidence in their loyalty and courage. The following was her truly noble speech on this occasion :

แ My loving people, we have been persuaded, by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear; I have always so behaved myself, that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safe-guard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects. And therefore I am come amongst you, at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust.

"I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart of a king, and of a king of England too; and I think it foul scorn, that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms to which, rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms; I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field.

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