your majesty's commandment, others can say more than I; and, partly, there is orders set down.

"Now, for your person, being the most dainty and sacred thing we have in this world to care for, much more for advice to be given in the direction of it, a man must tremble when he thinks of it, specially, finding your majesty to have that princely courage to transport yourself to your utmost confines of your realm to meet your enemies, and to defend your subjects. I cannot, most dear queen, consent to that, for upon your well doing consists all and some, for your whole kingdom; and, therefore, preserve that above all. Yet will I not that (in some sort) so princely and so rare a magnanimity should not appear to your people and the world as it is. And thus far, if it may please your majesty, you may do withdraw yourself to your house at Havering, and your army, being about London, as at Stratford, East Ham, Hackney, and the villages thereabout, shall be, not only a defence, but a ready supply to these counties, Essex and Kent, if need be. In the meantime, your majesty, to comfort this army and people, of both these counties, may, if it please you, spend two or three days, to see both the camp and forts. It (Tilbury) is not above fourteen miles, at most, from Havering Bower, and a very convenient place for your majesty to lie in by the way, (between Tilbury and London.) To rest you at the camp, I trust you will be pleased with your pore lieutenant's cabin; and within a mile (of it) there is a gentleman's house, where your majesty also may lie. Thus shall you comfort, not only these thousands, but many more that shall hear of it; and so far, but no farther, can I consent to adventure your person. By the grace of God, there can be no danger in this, though the enemy should pass by your fleet; and your majesty may (in that case) without dishonour, return to your own forces, their being at hand, and you may have two thousand horse well lodged at Romford, and other villages near Havering Bower, while your foot men (infantry) may lodge near London.

"Lastly, for myself, most gracious lady, you know what will most comfort a faithful servant; for there is nothing in this world I take that joy in, that I do in your good favour; and it is no small favour to send to your pore servant, thus to visit him. I can yield no recompence, but the like sacrifice I owe to God, which is, a thankful heart: and humbly, next my soul to Him, to offer body, life, and all, to do you acceptable service. And so will I pray to God, not only for present victory over all your enemies, but longest life, to see the end of all those who wish you evil, and make me so happy as to do you

some service.

"From Gravesend, ready to go to your pore, but most willing soldiers, this Saturday, the 27th day of July.

"Your majesty's most faithful and ever obedient servant,
"R. LEICESTER.

"P.S. I have taken the best order possible with the (sub) lieutenants of Kent to be present at Dover themselves, and to keep there 3 or 4000 men to supply my lord admiral, if he come thither, and with anything else that he needs, that is to be had. I wish there may be some quantity of powder, to lie in Dover for all needs."

Gravesend was then fortified, and a bridge of barges drawn across the Thames, both to oppose the passage of the invading fleet, should any portion of the expedition

1 Meaning himself, and his residence at Tilbury. He was lieutenant-general under the queen, who was generalissimo.

have succeeded in entering the Nore, and to afford a means of communication for supplies of men and munition from Kent and Essex. Everything wore a martial and inspiring aspect, and all hearts were beating high with loyal and chivalric enthusiasm.

A picturesque description is given, by the contemporary poet, James Aske, of the deportment of the noble young volunteers, who had betaken themselves to the camp at Tilbury, in the earnest hope of performing good and loyal service for their country and queen:

"Now might you see the field, late pasture-green,

Wherein the beasts did take their food and rest,
Become a place for brave and worthy men ;
Here noblemen, who stately houses have,
Do leave them void, to live within their tents;
Here worthy squires, who lay on beds of down,
Do cabin now upon a couch of straw;
Instead of houses strong, with timber built,
They cabins make of poles, and thin green boughs;
And where, of late, their tables costly were,
They now do dine but on an earthie bank;
Ne do they grieve at this, so hard a change,

But think themselves thereby thrice happy made."

The day on which Elizabeth went, in royal and martial pomp, to visit her loyal camp at Tilbury, has generally been considered the most interesting of her whole life. Never, certainly, did she perform her part, as the female leader of an heroic nation, with more imposing effect than on that occasion. A few lines from the contemporary poem, "Elizabetha Triumphans," affording a few additional particulars connected with the royal heroine's proceedings at that memorable epoch of her life, may be acceptable to the admirers of that great sovereign:

"On this same day-a fair and glorious day

Came this, our queen-a queen most like herself,
Unto her camp (now made a royal camp)

With all her troop, (her court-like, stately troop ;)
Not like to those who couch on stately down,
But like to Mars, the god of fearful war;
And, heaving oft to skies her warlike hands,
Did make herself, Bellona-like, renowned.
The lord-lieutenant notice had thereof,
Who did, forthwith, prepare to entertain
The sacred goddess of the English soil."

From the same metrical chronicle we find, that Eliza

1 "Elizabetha Triumphans," by James Aske.

beth and her train came by water to Tilbury, and that Leicester with the other officers, whom she had appointed as the commanders of her forces, were waiting to receive her when the royal barge neared the fort:

"The earl of Leicester, with those officers
Which chosen were to govern in the field,

At water-side, within the Block House stay'd,
In readiness there to receive our queen,
Who, landed, now doth pass along her way;
She thence some way, still marching kinglike on;
The cannons at the Block House were discharged;
The drums do sound, the fifes do yield their notes;
And ensigns are displayed throughout the camp.
Our peerless queen doth by her soldiers pass,
And shews herself unto her subjects there.
She thanks them oft for their (of duty) pains,
And they, again, on knees, do pray for her;

They couch their pikes, and bow their ensigns down,
When as their sacred royal queen passed by."

Midway, between the fort and the camp, her majesty was met by sir Roger Williams, the second in command, at the head of two thousand horse, which he divided into two brigades, one to go before her, and the other behind to guard her person, and, together with two thousand foot soldiers, escorted her to master Rich's house, about three miles from the camp, where she was to sleep that night. Aske continues: "The soldiers which placed were far off

From that same way through which she passed along,
Did hallo oft, The Lord preserve our queen!'

He happy was that could but see her coach,

The sides whereof, beset with emeralds

And diamonds, with sparkling rubies red,

In checkerwise, by strange invention,

With curious knots embroider'd with gold;
Thrice happy they who saw her stately self,

Who, Juno-like, drawne with her proudest birds,
Passed along through quarters of the camp."

The grand display was reserved for the following morning, when the female majesty of England came upon the ground, mounted on a stately charger, with a marshal's truncheon in her hand, and forbidding any of her retinue to follow her, presented herself to her assembled troops, who were drawn up to receive their stout-hearted liege lady on the hill, near Tilbury church. She was attended only by the earl of Leicester, and the earl of Ormond, who bore the sword of state before her, a page followed, carrying her white plumed regal helmet. She wore a polished steel

corslet on her breast, and below this warlike boddice descended a fardingale of such monstrous amplitude, that it is wonderful how her mettled war-horse submitted to carry a lady encumbered with a gaberdine of so strange a fashion,' but in this veritable array the royal heroine rode, bareheaded, between the lines, with a courageous and smiling countenance. When the thunders of applause, with which she was greeted by her army, had a little subsided, she harangued them in the following popular speech:

66

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 do 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 safeguard in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects; and, therefore, I am come amongst you as you see at this time, not for my recreation and disport, 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 kingdoms, and for my people, my honour and my blood even in the dust. I know I have the body of a weak, feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a kingand of a king of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm; to which, rather than any dishonour should grow by me, I myself will take up armsI myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already, for your forwardness, you have deserved rewards and crowns, and, we do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. For the meantime, my lieutenant-general, shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject; not doubting but by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over these enemies of my God, of my kingdoms, and of my people."

The soldiers, many of whom, be it remembered, were

It is thus Elizabeth appears in an engraving of the times, in the Grainger portraits, only wearing her helmet.

"Meaning the pride and courage of a king.

volunteers of gentle blood and breeding, unanimously responded to this address, by exclaiming, "Is it possible that any Englishman can abandon such a glorious cause, or refuse to lay down his life in defence of this heroic prin

Elizabeth was then fifty-five years old-she had borne the sceptre and the sword of empire with glory for thirtyyears. Time, which had faded her youthful charms, robbed the once-plump cheek of its roundness, and elongated the oval contour of her face, had, nevertheless, endeared her to her people, by rendering her every day more perfect in the queenly art of captivating their regard, by a gracious and popular demeanour. She had a smile and a pleasant speech for every one, who approached her with demonstrations of affection and respect. Her high pale forehead was, indeed, furrowed with the lines of care, and her lofty features sharpened, but her piercing eye retained its wonted fires, and her majestic form was unbent by the pressure of years. The protestants hailed her as a mother in Israel-another Deborah, for the land had had rest in her time. The persecuted catholics felt like patriots, and forgot their personal wrongs, when they saw her, like a true daughter of the Plantagenets, vindicating the honour of England, undismayed by the stupendous armament that threatened her coast, and united with every class and denomination of her subjects in applauding and supporting her, in her dauntless determination. Perhaps there was not a single man among the multitudes, who that day beheld their maiden monarch's breast sheathed in the warrior's iron panoply, and heard her declaration "that she would be herself their general," that did not feel disposed to exclaim

"Where's the coward that would not dare
To fight for such a queen ?"

The wisdom and magnanimity of the union of rival creeds and adverse parties in one national bond of association, for the defence of their threatened land, doubtless inspired the immortal lines with which Shakespeare concluded his historical play of King John, which, from the many allusions it contains to the state of the times, was evidently written at the epoch of the Armada:

1 Mademoiselle Keralio's Life of Queen Elizabeth.