But a few weeks after Mary had been | royal carriage, sumptuously covered proclaimed Queen, the partizans of the with cloth of tissue, and drawn by six opposing religions succeeded in exciting horses with similar trappings, was imher jealous ill-will against her sister mediately followed by another, likewise Elizabeth. When Mary made known drawn by six horses, and covered with her intention of restoring the mass and cloth of silver, in which sat the Princess other Catholic rituals, the Protestants Elizabeth and the Lady Anne of Cleves, took the alarm; fixed their hopes on the former of whom assisted in this cerethe constancy of Elizabeth, who had al- mony as the Queen's sister, and the latter ready won for herself the good will of not as the widow, but as the adopted the people generally, and openly de- sister of Henry the Eighth. clared that she might be placed upon the throne with as little difficulty as Mary had been. On this account Mary was advised to place her sister under arrest. But this unjust, unpopular measure, she refused to consent to; and to at once gratify her own religious prejudices, and weaken the power of the reformers, she endeavoured, by entreaties, promises, threats, to withdraw her royal sister from the Protestant to the Catholic Church. Elizabeth firmly resisted every attempt, till she found that her repugnance was attributed not to motives of conscience, but to the persuasions of factions; when, demanding an audience with the Queen, she, on her knees, and with tearful eyes, excused her past obstinacy, on the plea that she had never practised, nor been taught, any other than the reformed religion, and employed Mary to furnish her with proper books and instructors, that she might learn her error, and embrace the religion of her fathers. In a week her defection from the Protestant Church was effected; policy induced her to make a hypocritical profession of the Catholic faith, and, as a show of sincerity, to attend mass on the eighth of September, and to shortly afterwards write to the Emperor, for permission to purchase in Flanders a chalice, cross, and other ecclesiastical ornaments for a Catholic chapel, she was about to open in her own house. By this and other dissimulation. Elizabeth succeeded for a time in retaining her influence at court. Mary, evidently believing in her sincerity, treated her, in public and private, with extraordinary kindness. In the splendid procession of her Majesty from the Tower to Whitehall, previously to her coronation, in October, 1553, the At the coronation banquet, Elizabeth dined at the same table with the Queen -an honour conferred on none else but Anne of Cleves. She was prayed for by Dr. Harpfield, as the Queen's sister, and generally recognized as heiress presumptive to the throne. She, however, enjoyed this state of felicity for little more than a month. The act passed by Mary's first Parliament, legitimizing the Queen, in effect, though not in words, bastardized Elizabeth, and so wounded her pride, that she requested permission to remove from court-a request which was refused, and followed by a temporary estrangement between the royal sisters. Intrigue was now rife at court, independ ent of the religious partizans. The King of France, in the hope of obtaining the whole sovereignty of the Britannic isles for his daughter-in-law, Mary Queen of Scots, resolved to ruin Queen Mary by setting up Elizabeth as her rival, and afterwards to destroy the Princess herself. With this view, the unprincipled French ambassador, Noailles, devised, and supported with supplies of arms and money, an attempt to depose Mary in favour of Elizabeth, who was to be married to Courtney, Earl of Devonshire. Whilst this conspiracy was hatching, Elizabeth, who, in all probability, tacitly countenanced it, again requested permis. sion to retire to one of her seats in the country. Leave was granted, and the day fixed for her departure, when the representations of Renaud, the Spanish ambassador, that she was deeply implicated in the plots against the government, so incensed the Queen and the privy council against her, that she was ordered not to leave the palace, and, in the end, confined to her own chamber, and surrounded by spies, who reported that she was too ill to travel, and immediately afterwards fortified and garrisoned her house. This illness, whether real or feigned, in all probability saved her from a violent death. Mary allowed her a fortnight's respite, and during this eventful fortnight, Wyatt, at the head of a formidable army of insurgents, had unsuccessfully attacked the Queen in her palace at Westminster, and been conveyed, with the other leading rebels, to captivity in the Tower, when he and his fellow rebels, to screen themselves, named Elizabeth and Courtney as the instigators of the uprising. Mary, whose throne had been made to totter, signed the death-warrant of the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey and her husband, and as she now more than ever distrusted the loyalty of Elizabeth, she sent that Princess's maternal kinsman, her every movement to the privy council. The peril of her position daily increased. Mary deeply mortified her by permitting the Countess of Lennox and the Duchess of Suffolk, the representatives of her aunts, the Scottish and French Queens, to take precedence of her; and, at length, Renaud openly charged Noailles with paying her nocturnal visits, with treasonable designs; but, fortunately for Elizabeth, she explained away the charges against her, and Mary, despite the opposition of Renaud and others, forgave her, granted her permission to depart, and, on the sixth of December, dismissed her with tokens of affection, and a present of a double set of large and valuable pearls. She retired to her mansion at Ashridge, in Bucks, where she had scarcely arrived when she was annoyed by an offer of the hand of the Prince of Piedmont in mar-Lord William Howard, together with riage, and a renewal of the matrimonial Sir Edward Hastings and Sir Thomas proposals in favour of the King of Den- Cornwallis, to bring her to the court at mark's son; both of these offers she London. When they arrived, the Queen's promptly negatived; and she also refused physicians, Dr. Wendy and Dr. OwenNoailles' request, that she would unite whom, it appears, by an original letter herself openly with the conspirators, in Tytler's “Edward and Mary,” which whose plot was scarcely arranged, when we have not space to insert, the Queen the fears or simplicity of Courtney in- had kindly sent to tend her, and see that duced him to impart the whole secret to she was sufficiently recovered to bear the Gardiner, whilst the privy council inter-removal-decided that she might at once cepted letters to Elizabeth, in ciphers; from the French King, offering her money, and urging her to seek an asylum in France; from the French ambassador, advising her to throw off the mask, and openly espouse their cause, and from Wyatt, Sir James Crofts, and other of the conspirators, informing her that they had been betrayed by Courtney, and exhorting her to retire from Ashridge, which, being near the metropolis and unfortified, left her at the mercy of the Queen and the council, to the strong castle of Donnington, which was near to the head-quarters of the rebels. The day after the breaking-out of the Wyatt rebellion was known to the council, Mary sent a letter to Elizabeth, enjoining her to return immediately to court, and assuring her that she should be heartily welcomed; but as Elizabeth put no faith in these assurances, she took to her bed, sent word to the Queen commence the journey without endangering her life. But, her object being to gain time, she refused to see the three commissioners; and when, after waiting half the day, they, at the late hour of ten at night, entered her chamber, she had retired to rest, and with affected amazement, exclaimed, "Is the haste such that it might not have pleased you to come to-morrow in the morning?" They made answer that they were right sorry to see her in such a case. "And I," quoth she, "am not glad to see you here at this time of night." Her Grace was then informed that the Queen had sent her own litter for her accommodation, and that the next morning she would be removed. Her departure, which took place at about eleven in the morning, on Monday, the twelfth of February, excited the tears and lamentations of her afflicted household, who naturally gave way to the most painful forebodings. She reached Redburn, in a very feeble condition, the first night; on the second, she rested at Sir Ralph Rowlet's house, at St. Alban's; on the third, at Mr. Dod's, at Mimmes; on the fourth, at Highgate, where she stayed at Mr. Cholmeley's house for a night and a day, till her drooping spirits had revived, and her health somewhat recovered. At Highgate, a number of gentlemen rode out to meet her, in testimony of their sympathy and attachment; and as she proceeded, the general feeling was further displayed, by crowds of people lining the pathways, who flocked anxiously around her litter, weeping and bewailing her unhappy fate. Her passage through Smithfield and Fleet Street, in a litter open at both sides, was followed by a hundred men, attired in coats of velvet, and a hundred others succeeded, in coats of fine red, trimmed with velvet; with this imposing train did Elizabeth pass through the Queen's garden to the court of the palace. This open support of the Princess by a formidable party in the capital, greatly disconcerted the plans of her enemies. They contented themselves, for the present, with detaining her in a kind of honourable custody at Whitehall. She demanded an interview with the Queen, but Mary refused to see her; and when the privy council examined her, she protested her innocence, and ignorance of the treasonable designs of Wyatt and his confederates. Lords Arundel and Paget, and the Emperor's ambassador, Renaud, urged that she should be immediately brought to the block as a traitress; but Mary abhorred the idea of shedding her blood; and at last, when all the lords of the council had individually refused to take charge of her, the Queen, for the security of her own person, resolved to send her to the Tower. This determination was announced to her by the Earl of Sussex, on the sixteenth of March. Bishop Gardiner and two others came soon afterwards, and, dismissing her attendants, supplied their place with some of the Queen's servants, and set a guard round the palace for that night. In the morning, a barge was in readiness to convey her to the Tower: she entreated first to be permitted to write to the Queen, and the Earl of Sussex assenting, in spite of the opposition of another lord, and undertaking himself to be the bearer of her letter, she took the opportunity of repeating her protestations of innocence and loyalty, adding with much vehemence of manner:-"As for that traitor, Wyatt, he might peradventure write me a letter; but, on my faith, I never received any from him. And as for the copy of my letter to the French King, which is laid to my charge, I pray to God confound me eternally, if ever I sent him word, message, token, or letter, by any means.' Her letter failed to procure an interview with the Queen; and the next day, being Palm Sunday, strict orders were issued for all the people to attend the churches, and carry their palms, whilst, in the meantime, Elizabeth was privately removed to the Tower, attended by the Earl of Sussex, the Lord Treasurer, three of her own ladies, three of the Queen's attendants, and some of her officers. On reaching the place of her destination, she for a long time refused to land at Traitor's Gate; and when one of the lords declared "that she should not choose," and, at the same time, offered her his cloak to protect her from the rain, she retained enough of her high spirit to throw it from her with a good dash; and as she set her foot on the illomened stairs, she exclaimed: "Here landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs; and before thee, O God! I speak it, having no other friend but thee alone." On seeing a number of warders and other attendants drawn out in order, she asked, "What meaneth this?" Some one answered, that it was customary on receiving a state prisoner. "If it be," said Elizabeth, "I beesech you that, for my cause, they may be dis missed." Immediately the poor men kneeled down and prayed God to preserve her; for which action they all were severely reprimanded the next day. Going a little further, she sat down on a stone to rest herself; the lieutenant urged her to rise and come in out of the cold and wet, but she answered, “Better sitting here | but that I may go to mine own houses than in a worse place; for God knoweth at all times?" Then the Earl of Arundel, whither you bring me." kneeling down, said, "Your Grace sayeth true, and certainly we are very sorry that we have troubled you about so vain a matter. Elizabeth replied, "My Lords, you do sift me very narrowly; but I am well assured you will not do more to me than God hath appointed; and so God forgive you all." On hearing these words, her gentleman-usher wept, for which she reproved him, saying, "You ought rather to be my comforter, especially since I know my own truth to be such, that no man shall have cause to weep for me." Then rising, she entered the prison, and its gloomy doors were locked and bolted on her. Shocked and dismayed, she collected her servants around her, called for her prayer-book, and devoutly prayed that she might "build her house upon the rock." Her conductors then retired; and her firm friend, the Earl of Sussex, took the opportunity of reminding all whom it might concern, that the Princess was to be treated in no other manner than they might be able to justify, whatever should happen hereafter; and that they were to take heed to do nothing but what their commission would bear out. To this the attendants cordially assented; and, having performed their office, the two lords took their departure. A few days after her committal, Gardiner, and other privy councillors, came to examine her, respecting the conversation she had held with Sir James Croft on her removal to Donnington Castle. Elizabeth said, after some recollection, that she had in truth such a place, but that she had never occupied it in her life, and she did not remember that any one had moved her so to do. Then, to enforce the matter, they brought forth Sir James Croft; and Gardiner demanded what she had to say to that man. She answered, that she had little to say to him, or to the rest that were in the Tower. "But, my Lords," said the Princess, "you do examine every mean prisoner respecting me, wherein you do me great injury. If they have done evil and offended the Queen's Majesty, let them answer for it accordingly. I beseech you, my Lords, join not me in this sort with any of these offenders; and, concerning my going to Donnington Castle, I do remember that Master Hobby, and my officers, and you, Sir James Croft, had such talk. But what is that to the purpose, my Lords, Wyatt was at length, on the eleventh of April, condemned to death; when he confounded all the hopes and expectations of the enemies of Elizabeth, by strenuously and publicly declaring her entire innocence of any participation in the treasonable designs. One only resource now remained to the Court, in their endeavours to ruin Elizabeth. They thought, that a longcontinued absence, whilst it might gradually weaken the affections of the people, would afford them many opportu nities for injuring or supplanting her, and it was therefore resolved to provide for her a kind of honourable banishment. Her confinement had been rendered as uncomfortable as it could well be. After a month's close imprisonment in the Tower, by which the health of the Princess had severely suffered, she obtained, with great difficulty, permission to walk in the state apartments, under the close superintendence of the constable of the Tower and the Lord Chamberlain, with the attendance of three of the Queen's servants; the windows being shut, and the Princess not allowed to look out. Afterwards she had the liberty of walking in a small garden, the gates and doors being carefully closed; and the prisoners, whose rooms looked into the garden, being at such times closely watched, to prevent the interchange of any word or sign. Even a little child of five years of age, who was wont to cheer her by his daily visits, and to bring her flowers, was suspected of being employed as a messenger between the Princess and the Earl of Devonshire,* and in spite of * Courtney, Earl of Devonshire, was then hended on the twelfth of the preceding Fea prisoner in the Tower; he had been appre|bruary, at the house of the Earl of Sussex. the innocent simplicity of his answers, | benefit from this approaching change, he was ordered to visit her no more! as she still remained a closely guarded The next day, the poor child peeped in prisoner. through a hole in the door, as she walked in the garden, and cried out-" Madam, I can bring you no more flowers!"-for which innocent remark, his father, one of the inferior officers of the Tower, was severely lectured, and ordered to keep his boy entirely away from the Sir Henry Bedingfield entered the Tower, at the head of a hundred of his men; and Elizabeth, struck with dismay at the unexpected sight, demanded whether the scaffold which had served for the execution of Lady Jane Grey, had been removed? On being informed that it was, she was somewhat comforted; but soon a frightful rumour reached her, that she was about to be carried away by Sir Henry and his soldiers, no one knew where. She immediately sent for Lord Chandos, constable of the Tower, whose humanity and courtesy had induced him to soften, as much as possible, the hardships of her lot, and closely questioning him, he at length plainly told her, that there was no help for it; orders had been given, and she must be consigned to the care of Bedingfield, to be conveyed to Woodstock. Anxious and alarmed at this intelligence, she inquired of her attendants, what kind of man this Bedingfield was; and whether, in the event of her murder being determined on, his conscience would allow him to see it perpetrated? None of her attendents could satisfy her on this point; all they could do was, to implore her to put her trust in God, as her only refuge in the hour of danger. After suffering a close imprisonment of three months, in the Tower, she was at length, on the nineteenth of May, escorted out of that gloomy fortress; and, under the charge of Bedingfield and his troop of a hundred horsemen, conducted to Richmond palace, where the court was then held. She was still treated as a captive. The manners of Bedingfield she deemed severe; and such terror did she conceive from the appearances around her, that, sending for her gentleman usher, she desired him, and the rest of her officers, to pray for her: "For this night," added the unhappy Princess, "I think to die!" The gentleman, greatly affected, encouraged her as well as he was able; then going to Lord Williams, who was |