“This is a splendid painting, Sir,” said Mrs. Spencer, as she this morning stopped to admire a picture that hung at the entrance of the gallery: “from the magnificence attending it, I should suppose it represented a royal baptism.”

“You are quite right, my dear madam,” answered Mr. Wilmot. “It is the christening of no less a personage than our illustrious queen Elizabeth; and, as a singular chain of events befel most of the individuals present at it, I think I cannot commence this day’s entertainment with a more interesting relation.

“At one o’clock in the afternoon, the lord mayor, Sir Stephen Peacock, in a gown of crimson satin, adorned with his chain, and with the aldermen in scarlet robes, ornamented with their golden collars, took boat for Greenwich, where they found many lords, knights, and gentlemen assembled. The whole way from the palace to the Friars, was strewn with green rushes, and the walls were hung with tapestry, as was the Friars’ church, in which the ceremony was performed.

“A silver font, covered with crimson satin fringed with gold, stood in the midst of the church; and round it were arranged several gentlemen, with aprons and towels round their necks. All things being arranged, the procession set forth. It began with citizens walking two and two; then gentlemen, ’squires, and chaplains; then the aldermen and the mayor alone; and, following these, the king’s council and chaplain in copes; and, lastly, barons, bishops, and earls.

“The gilt basin was carried by Henry, earl of Essex. This nobleman perished, a few years afterwards, by a fall from his horse. He was alike distinguished for his magnificence, and the part he bore in tilt and tourney. Sprung from a royal lineage, being descended from Thomas of Woodstock, youngest son of Edward the Third, his high connexion must have rendered him occasionally fearful lest they should involve him in the same fatal catastrophe with that which the duke of Buckingham had so lately suffered. But his premature death, whilst it placed him beyond the reach of caprice, left his title at the disposal of the monarch, who, much to the mortification of this illustrious family, bestowed it on his favourite, the low-bred Cromwell.

“The salt was borne by Henry, marquis of Dorset, the father of lady Jane Grey, who, after receiving the royal pardon for his share in the criminal enterprize for placing the crown on the head of his ill-fated and gentle daughter, joined the rebellion of Wyatt, and finally forfeited his life on the scaffold.

“William Courtnay, marquis of Exeter, followed, bearing the taper of virgin wax. This nobleman had the misfortune to be very nearly allied to the English throne, his mother being a daughter of Edward the Fourth. He was, at this period, highly distinguished by the king’s favour, who had even declared his intention of making him heir apparent, in preference to his own sisters, and his daughter Mary. The divorce from Catherine had, indeed, by proclaiming the latter illegitimate, rendered her incapable of succeeding to the throne. But, three years afterwards, he fell a victim to the jealousy of the fickle monarch, on a charge of corresponding with his proscribed cousin, cardinal Pole; and his honours and estates were not only forfeited, but his son, though quite a child, was immured in close custody.

“The chrism, which was very rich, being made of pearl and stone, was carried by the beautiful lady Mary Howard, daughter of the duke of Norfolk. She also furnished another illustration of the remark I commenced with; for she lived not only to witness, but, by the evidence she gave on his trial, to assist in the unjust condemnation of her illustrious brother, the earl of Surry, whose talents, and whose gallantry, still adorn the annals of English history. This lady, descended from our Saxon monarchs, Henry bestowed upon his base-born son, created duke of Richmond; an insult, which, in other reigns, the Howards would have resented as it deserved.

“The infant princess, wrapped in a mantle of purple, richly furred with ermine, was carried by one of her godmothers, the dowager duchess of Norfolk. This lady was the step-grandmother of Ann Boleyn; but the high distinction afforded, too shortly, but little cause of exultation. And equally melancholy was the termination of that closer alliance with royalty, which was formed for her, in the person of her own grand-daughter, Catherine Howard. On the discovery of this queen’s ill-conduct, the aged duchess was declared guilty of misprision of treason, and, overwhelmed with disgrace, was committed to custody; but she was afterwards released, when Catherine had expiated her follies and vices on the scaffold. Nor less exempt from trial was the other godmother at the font, the dowager marchioness of Dorset. Her grand-daughter, lady Jane Grey, perished by an ignominious death. Three of her sons shared the same fate; and the fourth died, during the reign of Elizabeth, a prisoner in the Tower, in which he had been confined, for the offence of distributing a pamphlet, asserting the title of the Suffolk line to the crown.

“The marchioness of Exeter, the other godmother at the font, not only wept over the untimely end of her husband; and her only son wasting the flower of his youth in a tedious captivity; but she herself was attainted of high treason, some time afterwards, and underwent a long and arbitrary imprisonment.

“On either hand of the duchess of Norfolk, walked the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk; the only nobles of that rank then existing in England. On every public and important occasion, both civil and military, their united names appear during the reign of Henry the Eighth; but the termination of their respective careers forms a striking contrast. The duke of Suffolk was ever regarded with the same favour, which he had gained as Charles Brandon, the jocund companion of his royal master’s youthful exercises. Nor did his marriage with the king’s sister, involve him in either troubles or misfortunes; and he did not live to witness those which overwhelmed his grand-daughter. He died in peace, sincerely lamented by his sovereign.

“Very different was the treatment which the duke of Norfolk received from the king. His high birth, and powerful connexions, created fears in Henry’s mind, for the tranquillity and safety of his son, the virtuous Edward the Sixth. The former services of his faithful and noble servant were overlooked, and sacrificed to his present alarm. With almost his last breath he decreed the death of Norfolk. But even Henry was no longer absolute: his orders were this time disobeyed, and the duke survived him. He, however, suffered a long and tedious captivity; and lived but a short time after his tardy restoration to liberty and honour, under Mary.

“One of the infant’s train-bearers, was the countess of Kent. If she were, as is probable, the widow of the second earl of that title, she must have been the daughter of the earl of Pembroke, a zealous Yorkist, who was slain fighting in the cause of Edward the Fourth.

“Thomas Boleyn, earl of Wiltshire, the proud and delighted grandfather of the princely babe, supported the train on one side. He lived to witness the cruel and disgraceful end of his son and daughter, and died long before the prosperous days of his illustrious grandchild.

“Edward Stanly, third earl of Derby, formed an exception to this train of ill-fated nobles. Educated by Wolsey, whose ward he was, he proved himself a faithful subject to four succeeding sovereigns; and, in the most disturbed times, stood firm in his unshaken loyalty. Full of years and honours, and rich in hereditary distinctions, he died, universally esteemed, in 1574.

“Four lords, three of whom met with disastrous fate, supported the canopy over the royal infant. One was her uncle, the accomplished viscount Rochford, who suffered death by the tyranny of Henry, for a crime of which he is now most fully acquitted. Another was lord Hussey, who expiated the crime of rebellion on the scaffold, a few years afterwards. The two others were brothers, of the family of the illustrious but unfortunate Howards.

“Lord William, uncle to Catherine Howard, was unjustly condemned to perpetual imprisonment and forfeiture of goods, for not exposing her misconduct; but the sentence was afterwards remitted. He lived to be eminent in the next reign, under the title of lord Howard of Effingham, and died peacefully, in a venerable age.

“The ambition of lord Thomas was the cause of his sufferings. He married the lady Margaret Douglas, niece to the king, and on the discovery of which he was committed to the Tower, where he died in close imprisonment.

“The ceremony of christening was performed by Stokely, bishop of London, attended by several abbots and bishops mitred; and the benediction was pronounced by Cranmer, that learned and distinguished prelate, whose virtues, whose weaknesses, whose general benevolence and holy faith, exhibited amidst the flames of martyrdom, have rendered him a distinguished character in the history of this eventful reign.

“At the conclusion of the ceremonies, garter king-at-arms cried aloud: ‘God, of his infinite goodness, send prosperous life and long, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth.’ The trumpets then sounded a flourish, and the party prepared to retrace their steps to the palace.

“In the return from church, the gifts of the sponsors, consisting of bowls and cups, some gilded, and others of massy gold, were carried by four persons of quality, viz: Thomas Somerset, second earl of Worcester; Thomas Ratcliff, lord Fitzwalter, afterwards earl of Sussex; and Sir John Dudley, son of the detested associate of Empson, and afterwards the notorious duke of Northumberland; whose crimes received, at length, their due recompence in that ignominious death, to which his guilty and extravagant projects had conducted so many comparatively innocent victims.”

When Mr. Wilmot had finished his narration, Mrs. Spencer remarked, that, by the untimely death of Ann Boleyn, the infant princess became a partaker of some of the trouble that involved so many of the distinguished individuals who attended this august ceremony.

“Yes,” said Mr. Wilmot; “and there are some curious extracts extant, respecting the petty mortifications she was destined to endure in childhood, whilst the subject of her legitimacy was left unsettled. Passing over these, however, I shall give the girls a short account of the pursuits that engrossed her youth, and which is taken from some writings of the celebrated Roger Ascham.

“This gentleman says: ‘The lady Elizabeth has completed her sixteenth year; and so much solidity and understanding, such courtesy united with dignity, have never been observed at so early an age. She has the most ardent love of true religion, and of the best kind of literature. The constitution of her mind is exempt from female weakness; and she is endued with a masculine power of application. No apprehension can be quicker than hers, no memory more retentive. French and Italian she speaks like English; Latin with fluency, propriety, and judgment: she also spoke Greek with me frequently, willingly, and moderately well. Nothing can be more elegant than her handwriting, whether in the Greek or Roman characters. In music she is very skilful, but does not greatly delight.

“‘With respect to personal decorations, she greatly prefers a simple elegance to show and splendour; so despising the outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing gold, that, in her whole manner of life, she greatly prefers Hippolyta than PhÆdra.

“‘She read with me almost the whole of Cicero, and a great part of Livy: from these two writers, her knowledge of the Latin language has been exclusively derived. The beginning of the day was almost always devoted by her to the New Testament, in Greek; after which, she read select orations of Isocrates, and the tragedies of Sophocles. For her religious instruction, she drew first from the fountains of Scripture, and afterwards from St. Cyprian, the common-places of Melancthon, and similar works, which contain pure doctrine in simple language.’”

Mrs. Spencer remarked, that Ascham’s account of Elizabeth’s simplicity in dress was singular, when contrasted with the love of magnificence and show, which she displayed in after life.

“And yet,” replied Mr. Wilmot, “his testimony is corroborated by that of Dr. Elmer, or Aylmer, who was tutor to lady Jane Grey and her sisters, and became, subsequently, during Elizabeth’s reign, bishop of London. He thus draws her character, when young, in a work entitled, ‘A Harbour for faithful Subjects.’

“‘The king left her rich clothes and jewels; and I know it to be true, that, in seven years after her father’s death, she never, in all that time, looked upon that rich attire and precious jewels, but once, and that against her will. And that there never came gold or stone on her head, till her sister forced her to lay off her former soberness, and bear her company in her glittering gayness. And then she so wore it, as every man might see that her body carried that which her heart disliked. I am sure that her maidenly apparel, in king Edward’s time, made the noblemen’s wives and daughters to be ashamed to be dressed and painted like peacocks; being more moved with her most virtuous example, than with all that Peter or Paul wrote on the subject. Yea, this I know, that a great man’s daughter, lady Jane Grey, receiving from lady Mary, before she was queen, good apparel of tinsel, cloth of gold, and velvet, laid on with parchment lace of gold, when she saw it, said: ‘What shall I do with it?’ ‘Marry!’ said a gentlewoman, ‘wear it.’ ‘Nay,’ quoth she, ‘that were a shame to follow my lady Mary, against God’s word.’ And when all the ladies, at the coming of the Scots queen dowager, Mary of Guise, (she who visited England in Edward’s time,) went with their hair frownsed, curled, and double curled, she altered nothing, but kept her old-maidenly shamefacedness.’

“Whatever Elizabeth’s subsequent taste in dress might have been, it is evident, that at this period she strictly conformed to the rigid turn of sentiment which prevailed in young Edward’s reign. Miss Aikin tells us, that there is a print, from the portrait of her when young, in which the hair is without a single ornament, and the whole dress remarkably plain.

“But I must leave this interesting part of Elizabeth’s character, and proceed to the time when the insurrection by Wyatt, of which I have formerly spoken, was made a pretext for confining her person within the Tower.

“Three of the queen’s council were dispatched to Ashbridge, to summon her to London; and with such rigour did they execute their commission, that, although on their arrival late at night, they found her confined to her bed with illness, they not only insisted upon seeing her at this time, but, ere the lady to whom they had given their message could deliver it, they rudely burst into the room of the princess, and informed her, that, ‘alive or dead,’ they must carry her with them.

“That Elizabeth had conducted herself with great amiability, may be inferred from the grief with which her servants saw her depart. They naturally anticipated, from the severity of the proceedings, the worst that could befall their youthful mistress. And, in so weak a state was the afflicted princess, that she was obliged to rest four nights, in a journey of twenty-four miles.

After the residence of a few days at Hampton Court, she was conducted to the Tower privately, by the earl of Sussex and another lord, three of her own ladies, three of the queen’s, and some of her own officers.

“Holinshed has preserved some curious and characteristic traits of her conduct, which I shall relate to you, in nearly his own words.

“On reaching the place of her destination, she at first refused to land at the traitors’ gate, which, when one of the uncourteous lords heard, he replied, that ‘she should not choose;’ offering her, at the same time, his cloak, to protect her from the rain; ‘which she, putting it back with her hand, with a good dash, refused.’

“Setting her foot upon the stairs, she said: ‘Here landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs; and before thee, O God! do I speak it, having none other friends but thee alone.’ To whom the same lord answered again: ‘That, if it were so, it was the better for her.’

“Observing a multitude of servants and warders standing in order to receive her, she said: ‘What needed all this?’ Being informed that it was customary, on receiving a prisoner: ‘If it be,’ said she, ‘for my cause, I beseech you that they may be dismissed.’ Whereupon, the poor men knelt down, and, with one voice, prayed God to preserve her; for which action they all lost their places the next day.

“Passing on a little further, she sat down upon a stone, and there rested herself; upon which the lieutenant, expressing his fears upon her account, and begging her to come in from the rain, she replied: ‘Better sitting here, than in a worse place; for God knoweth, I know not whither you will bring me.’ On seeing her gentleman-usher in tears, she reproved him, telling him, he ought rather to be her comforter, and not to dismay her; especially since she knew her truth to be such, that no man should have cause to weep for her. Then rising, she entered into her prison, the doors being locked and bolted upon her.

“This last act of severity seems exceedingly to have distressed the princess; but, calling for her book, she devoutly prayed that she ‘might be suffered to build her house upon the rock, whereby the blasts of the blustering weather should have no power upon her.’

“The confinement of the princess in the Tower, was purposely rendered as irksome and comfortless as possible. It was not till after a month’s close confinement, by which her health had suffered materially, that, after many entreaties, she gained permission to walk in the royal apartments, accompanied by the lord chamberlain, and three of her gentlewomen; the windows being shut, and she not permitted to look out of them. Afterwards, she had liberty to walk in a small garden, the doors and gates being shut; and the other prisoners being closely guarded during the time, and strictly commanded not to look from out of the windows, or to speak.

“Even a child of five years old, belonging to some inferior officer in the Tower, who was wont to visit her daily, and to carry her flowers, was suspected of being employed as a messenger between her and the earl of Devonshire; was strictly examined by the lord chamberlain; and, notwithstanding his youth and simplicity, ordered not to visit her again. The child answering, that ‘he would bring his lady and mistress more flowers,’ he was threatened with a whipping if he did not desist. The next day, as the princess was walking in the garden, the boy, peeping in through a hole in the door, cried out, ‘Mistress, I can bring you no more flowers;’ whereat she smiled, but said nothing. Nevertheless, the lord chamberlain hearing the circumstance, severely rebuked his father, and ordered him to send him from home.

“Her confinement in the Tower lasted for some time. She was afterwards removed to Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, and retained in a kind of honourable captivity, till the death of her sister Mary set her free.

“This event took place on November the nineteenth, 1558; and, on the twenty-third of the same month, Elizabeth, now become queen, set forward for her capital, attended by about a hundred nobles, knights, gentlemen, and ladies; and took up her abode, for the present, at the Chartreux, or Charter-house, formerly a considerable monastery, but dissolved in the reign of Henry the Eighth, and then the residence of lord North; a splendid pile, which offered ample accommodation for a royal retinue.

“Her next removal, according to ancient custom, was to the Tower. On this occasion, the loyalty and gallantry of the English nation were fully displayed. Pageants and endless devices attracted her attention on all sides: singers and musicians lent their aid; and, more than all, the air was rent with the joyful acclamations of her enraptured subjects, as, preceded by her heralds and great officers, the maiden queen, gratified and affected by the homage that a brave and generous nation offered up, expressed her grateful sense of it by holding up her hands, with a pleased countenance, to those who were at a distance from her, and by the ‘most tender and gentle language to those who stood near.’ One simple act of kindness was noticed with peculiar commendation. A branch of rosemary given her with a petition, by a poor woman in Fleet-bridge, was seen in her chariot till she came to Westminster. Nor was her reception of the English Bible, which was presented to her in Cheapside, less grateful to the feelings of her people, still bearing in remembrance the persecutions they had received. She not only took it reverently in her hands, but kissed it, and laid it on her bosom; assuring the citizens of her high sense of its value, and that she should read it most diligently.

“I do not think,” said Mr. Wilmot, “that I can conclude these extracts from Holinshed better, than by quoting Miss Aikin’s remarks upon this part of Elizabeth’s life; concluding with the prayer she offered, which has been preserved by the careful chronicler.

“‘With what vivid, and what affecting impressions, (says this lady,) of the vicissitudes attending on the great, must she have passed again within the antique walls of that fortress, once her dungeon, now her palace. She had entered it by the traitors’ gate, a terrified and defenceless prisoner, smarting under many wrongs, hopeless of deliverance, and apprehending nothing less than an ignominious death. She returned to it in all the pomp of royalty, surrounded by the ministers of her power, ushered in by the applauses of her people, the cherished object of every eye, the idol of every heart.

“‘Devotion could alone supply becoming language to the emotions which swelled her bosom; and, no sooner had she reached the royal apartments, than, falling on her knees, she returned humble and hearty thanks in the following prayer.

“‘O Lord Almighty and everlasting God, I give thee most hearty thanks, that thou hast been so merciful to me as to spare me to behold this joyful day. And I acknowledge that thou hast dealt as wonderfully and as mercifully with me, as thou didst with thy true and faithful servant Daniel, thy prophet, whom thou deliveredst out of the den, from the cruelty of the greedy and raging lions; even so was I overwhelmed, and only by thee delivered. To thee, therefore, only be thanks, honour, and praise, for ever. Amen.’

“And now, having conducted Elizabeth to this triumphant moment of her life, we will leave the subject this morning,” said Mr. Wilmot, “and renew it to-morrow.”