Philip had married as his first wife the daughter of John III., King of Portugal, who had died in 1552, having given birth to a son, the unfortunate and notorious Don Carlos. Charles V. then entered into negotiations for a union between his son and the King of Portugal’s sister, whose dowry amounted to more than a million gold ducats. But unwilling that so large a sum should pass out of the country, King John was in no hurry to bring matters to a conclusion, and while he haggled over the terms of the marriage treaty, the death of Edward VI. opened out a new political vista. The Emperor seeing the possibility of a geographical combination, that would materially help him to overthrow his old enemy France, wrote to Philip, telling him to suspend the negotiations with Portugal if they were not already concluded. A matrimonial alliance with England would, he conceived, equal in importance that of the Dauphin with the young Scottish Queen, Mary Stuart. Philip, perfectly docile, agreed to his father’s scheme,[445] and thus the fuse was set to the train laid by de Noailles, resulting in the conflagration described in the last chapter. But Mary’s firmness and courage, and the enthusiasm with which she had inspired her army, quickly extinguished the flames of revolution, and notwithstanding the dissensions in her Council, a far too numerous and unwieldy body, her government was stronger than before Wyatt’s rebellion. De Noailles had gained nothing by his treachery, except the questionable glory of having successfully worked upon the worst passions of the rabble. Painfully conscious that he had little cause for self-congratulation, and anxious to know how far the Queen was informed of his secret practices, and what were her feelings towards France, he demanded an audience in the middle of June, when the court was on the eve of removing to Windsor. Mary received him coldly, and when he complained, that although his master desired to continue the peace, her ministers appeared to be otherwise disposed, she told him roundly that neither the King of France nor his advisers had displayed much inclination towards peace in the past, and that not for all the kingdoms in the world would her conscience have permitted her to play such a part as he, de Noailles, had played. This outspokenness on the part of the Queen so disconcerted the ambassador, that he begged Henry to send him a safe-conduct and his recall.[446] Nevertheless, he was obliged to remain where he was, and he continued to be the most mischievous person in England. In giving an account of this audience to his master, de Noailles expressed the opinion that Philip had “something in hand against France”. But in this he was mistaken. Philip had no independent policy apart from the Emperor’s. Whatever his defects of mind and character, he was a perfect son, and while his father lived, Philip lived but to obey his behests. The chief of these now was, that he should marry Mary, and seek to conciliate the English.

Michiel, the Venetian ambassador, who had seen the Prince in Italy, describes him as the image of the Emperor, even to his hanging under-lip, the distinguishing feature of the Hapsburgs. He was not quite so tall (and Charles V. was but of medium height), but well-proportioned and agile, as had often been proved in tournaments, on foot and on horseback, armed and unarmed.[447] He is elsewhere described as short but slender, with a fine broad brow, large blue eyes, dense, fair eyebrows, very close together, a nose well formed, a large mouth, with a thick and pendent under-lip, which rather spoiled his appearance. His skin was white, and his hair flaxen, like that of a Fleming, but here the resemblance to his northern ancestors ceased, his tastes and manners being essentially Spanish. Even in his early manhood, he was inclined to be thoughtful and laborious. It was observed that he listened attentively to all that was said to him, but spoke little, and that little cautiously, with his eyes bent on the ground. If he raised them, it was to allow them to wander hither and thither. His answers were prompt, short and to the purpose, but he was careful never to compromise himself in any way.[448] At the end of his first visit to Flanders, the Emperor, who idolised him, took him to task for his cold and haughty bearing. Philip learned the lesson so well, that on his second visit, it was remarked that his manner was more affable, recalling that of his father, and retaining no trace of the disdain which had before caused him to be so much disliked in the Low Countries. He differed from the Emperor, inasmuch as Charles delighted in warfare, and military exercises, whereas Philip cared nothing for them, and understood them but little. He was fond of study, and especially of the study of history; he knew the exact position of every important place on the map, was a good mathematician, and had some notions of sculpture and of painting, which arts he sometimes practised. His own language he spoke with elegance, knew Latin well enough for a prince, understood and wrote Italian, and some French, and possessed an excellent memory. He was slow in his movements, both naturally and from his having schooled himself in extreme deliberation, a characteristic often illustrated by remarks which he was in the habit of writing on the margin of official documents, and in letters to his friends and servants. One such expression, written to an Italian diplomat, “bisogna caminare coi piedi di piombo,” is an epitome of his manner of conducting business. He was careful to surround even the smallest affair with an atmosphere of dignity, a custom that may partly account for his dilatoriness. As he was habitually grave and distant, his courtesy was the more appreciated when he forced himself to unbend. In his opinion, no nation on earth equalled the Spanish nation, and he admitted none but Spaniards into his counsels and intimacy. His piety was considered remarkable, because he heard Mass daily, and approached the sacraments at least four times a year. Capable as he was of prolonged and careful attention to the minutest details of business, he was naturally fond of repose and solitude, especially in summer, when he made a point of seldom granting audiences on affairs of state. So great was his power of self-control, that even in taking vengeance, he would sometimes wait for years for an opportune moment, when he would strike without passion and without pity.[449] His morals were neither better nor worse than those of the majority of his contemporaries.

Such was Philip in his twenty-seventh year, at the time of his second marriage.

Sorranzo’s description of Mary, at the age of thirty-eight, is important, as coming from the pen of a none too friendly critic. In the Venetian ambassador’s description of England in 1554 occurs the following paragraph:—

“The most serene Madam Mary is entitled Queen of England and of France, and Defendress of the Faith. She was born on the 18 February 1515 [1516], so she yesterday completed her thirty-eighth year, and six months. She is of low stature with a red and white complexion, and very thin. Her eyes are white [light?] and large, and her hair reddish; her face is round, with a nose rather low and wide, and were not her age on the decline, she might be called handsome rather than the contrary. She is not of a strong constitution, and of late she suffers from headache, and serious affection of the heart, so that she is often obliged to take medicine, and also to be blooded. She is of very spare diet, and never eats till one or two p.m., although she rises at daybreak, when after saying her prayers, and hearing Mass in private, she transacts business incessantly until after midnight, when she retires to rest; for she chooses to give audience not only to all the members of her Privy Council, and to hear from them every detail of public business, but also to all other persons who ask it of her. Her Majesty’s countenance indicates great benignity and clemency, which are not belied by her conduct, for although she has had many enemies, and though so many of them were by law condemned to death, yet had the executions depended solely on her Majesty’s will, not one of them perhaps would have been enforced; but deferring to her Council in everything, she in this matter likewise complied with the wishes of others, rather than with her own. She is endowed with excellent ability, and more than moderately read in Latin literature, especially with regard to Holy Writ; and besides her native tongue, she speaks Latin, French and Spanish, and understands Italian perfectly, but does not speak it. She is also very generous, but not to the extent of letting it appear that she rests her chief claim to commendation on this quality. She is so confirmed in the Catholic religion, that although the King her brother, and his Council, prohibited her from having the Mass celebrated according to the Roman Catholic ritual, she nevertheless had it performed in secret, nor did she ever choose by any act to assent to any other form of religion, her belief in that in which she was born being so strong, that had the opportunity offered, she would have displayed it at the stake, her hope being in God alone, so that she constantly exclaims, ‘In te Domine confido, non confundar in eternam! Si Deus est pro nobis, quis contra nos?’ Her Majesty takes pleasure in playing on the lute and spinet, and is a very good performer on both instruments, and indeed before her accession, she taught many of her maids of honour. But she seems to delight above all in arraying herself elegantly and magnificently, and her garments are of two sorts; the one a gown such as men wear, but fitting very close, with an under petticoat which has a very long train; and this is her ordinary costume, being also that of the gentlewomen of England. The other garment is a gown and boddice with wide hanging sleeves in the French fashion, which she wears on State occasions, and she also wears much embroidery, and gowns and mantles of cloth of gold, and cloth of silver of great value, and changes every day. She also makes great use of jewels, wearing them both on her chaperon, and round her neck, and as trimming for her gowns, in which jewels she delights greatly, and although she has a great plenty of them left her by her predecessors, yet were she better supplied with money than she is, she would doubtless buy more.”[450]

Philip’s departure for England had been delayed at the last, on account of the large quantity of bullion he was taking with him, amounting to 3,000,000 ducats, 300,000 of which were for his bride, 100,000 for the merchants, and the rest for the Emperor. In charge of this money was Sir Thomas Gresham, the celebrated founder of the Royal Exchange, who had gone to Spain for the purpose of raising a loan. When that part of the treasure which was destined for England was taken to the Tower, it filled twenty carts containing fourscore and seventeen chests, a yard and four inches long, and it was estimated that when coined it would produce about £50,000 sterling.[451]

Both the Emperor and Renard had taken care to give the Prince good advice as to his behaviour in England. They dreaded, lest by a repetition of the contempt he had displayed in Flanders, he should render the marriage still more unpopular than it already was. They implored him to make at least a show of cordiality towards the nobles, and to be affable and condescending to the people. He should force himself to learn a few words of English, to salute them with, but at the same time, it would not be amiss, said his mentors, if he wore a coat of mail under his dress.[452]

On the 19th July, the Spanish fleet being anchored in Southampton Bay, Philip sent the Prince of Gonzaga and Count Egmont to inform Mary of his arrival and good health. The next morning, he was landed at Southampton in the Queen’s yacht. As he stepped on shore, a royal salute was fired, and the Earl of Arundel invested him with the Order of the Garter,[453] which was at once put on and fastened by a herald. A brilliant company had assembled at the landing-place, to receive and do him honour. “God save your Grace,” was heard on all sides.

Philip presented a gallant enough appearance in his usual costume of black, with the short Spanish cape worn over one shoulder, and on his head a berretta with gold chains and a waving plume. Mary had sent him an Andalusian genet richly caparisoned, and as the reins were handed to him, Sir Anthony Browne[454] advanced, and made a speech in Latin, to the effect that he had been appointed equerry to the Prince, and had taken the oath to the imperial ambassador, and begged to be received as his Highness’s most humble, faithful and loyal servant. Having kissed the stirrup, he helped the Prince to mount.[455] As Philip rode through the town, the spectators remarked with admiration, his graceful horsemanship and smiling countenance, an indication that he had taken Renard’s counsels to heart. His first visit was to the Church of the Holy Rood, where he heard Mass, and returned thanks for his prosperous voyage and safe arrival.

He was then conducted to the house that had been prepared for his reception, during his stay at Southampton. Here his apartments were hung with some famous Flemish arras of immense value, that had belonged to Henry VIII. A chair of state in crimson velvet, embroidered with gold and pearls, stood on a daïs, under a canopy in the principal room. Before dismissing his escort, composed of nearly every member of the Privy Council, he addressed them in a Latin speech, in which he said he had come to live among them, not as a foreigner, but as a native Englishman, and not from want of men or money, but God had called him to marry their virtuous sovereign; and in thanking them for their expressions of faith and loyalty, he promised that they should ever find him a grateful, affable and loving Prince.

To the Spanish nobles in his suite, he said that he hoped, so long as they remained in England, they would conform to the customs of the country, and in this he would give them an example. As he finished speaking, he raised to his lips a flagon of English ale, which he then tasted for the first time, and drank farewell to the company.[456] Perhaps he disliked it less than some of his followers; at all events it was observed that he drank bravely, and without wincing.

As soon as the news of Philip’s arrival reached London, demonstrations of joy were set on foot, forced upon the people, said de Noailles maliciously, under pain of death.[457] But it did not appear that they evinced any serious objection to being feasted and amused. Bells were rung, salvos of artillery fired, and processions formed to all the principal churches. Fireworks were displayed, and tables groaning with viands were laid out in the streets, for every one to eat as much as he pleased. Wine and ale flowed in abundance.

On the 21st, Mary with her whole court made her entry into Winchester, where she was to receive the Prince and to be married to him.[458] She took up her residence at the Bishop’s palace.

Philip, meanwhile, by his condescension had been making a favourable impression. So anxious was he to ingratiate himself with the English, that he gave offence to his own suite. Every time he went out, he was escorted by Englishmen; Englishmen served him at table; he breakfasted and dined in public, according to English custom, although he disliked it extremely, and drank toasts valiantly in tankards of strong ale, in the English fashion, encouraging the Spaniards to do the same.

On the 23rd, the Earl of Pembroke with 200 mounted gentlemen arrived to conduct him to Winchester. With them were a company of English archers, wearing the colours of Arragon, with tunics of yellow cloth striped with crimson velvet, and with cordons of white and crimson silk. Before Philip left Southampton the Spanish fleet that had accompanied him was ordered to sail to Flanders immediately after the marriage ceremony, not a man belonging to it being allowed to set foot on English soil.[459]

The day of his departure was stormy, and it rained in torrents. He mounted his horse early in the afternoon, but had not left Southampton far behind, when a horseman came galloping to meet him, bringing a ring from Mary, with the entreaty that he would not expose himself to the inclemency of the weather, but would defer his arrival at Winchester till the following day. Not at first understanding the message, Philip thought that he was being warned of some danger, and stopped to consult with Alva and Egmont; but when Mary’s solicitude had been explained to him by an interpreter, he only wrapped his scarlet cloak more closely round him, pulled down his broad beaver over his eyes, and pressed gallantly forward, in spite of the elements. His company was increased at every bend of the road, by the country gentlemen of Hampshire, who turned out to form an escort; and by the time he arrived at his destination, his suite numbered several thousands. Drenched with rain, they were received at the gates of Winchester by the Mayor and Aldermen, in their civic robes, who after presenting Philip with the keys of the city, conducted him to the residence prepared for him in the Dean’s house.[460]

John Elder’s letter, describing Philip’s reception at Winchester and his marriage, takes up the story probably about an hour after his entry.

“Then the next Monday, which was the 24th July, his Highness came to the city of Winchester, at 6 of the clock at night, the noblemen of England, and his nobles riding, one with another before him, in good order, through the city, every one placed according to his vocation and office, he riding on a fair white horse, in a rich coat, embroidered with gold, his doublet, hosen and hat suite-like, with a white feather in his hat, very fair. And after he lighted, he came the highway towards the west door of the cathedral church, where he was most reverently received with procession, by my lord the Bishop of Winchester, now lord chancellor of England, and five other bishops, mitred, coped and staved, where also, after he had kneeled, kissed the crucifix, and done his prayer, he ascended from thence five steps upon a scaffold, which was made for the solemnization of his marriage; and until he came to the choir door, the procession sang Laus honor et virtus. And after he had entered the choir, and perceived the most holy sacrament, he put off his cap, and went bare-headed, with great humility, until he entered his seat or traverse as they call it, where after he had kneeled, my lord Chancellor began Te Deum laudamus, and the choir together with the organs sang and played the rest. Which being done, he was brought with torch-light to the Dean’s house, the lords going before him, and the Queen’s guard in their rich coats standing all the way. Which house was very gorgeously prepared for him, adjoining to my lord the Bishop of Winchester’s palace, where the Queen’s Highness then lay, not passing a pair of but-length’s between. This night, after he had supped, at 10 of the clock (as I am credibly informed) he was brought by the counsel a privy way to the Queen, where her grace very lovingly, yea and most joyfully received him. And after they had talked together half an hour,[461] they kissed and departed. I am credibly informed also that at his departing, he desired the Queen’s Highness to teach him what he should say to the lords in English at his departing; and she told him he should say ‘Good night, my lords all’. And as he came by the lords, he said as the Queen had taught him.”[462]

The writer goes on to say, that the next day, being Tuesday, the Prince made his first public and official visit to the Queen, at three o’clock in the afternoon, conducted by the Earl of Derby, the Earl of Pembroke and others, he walking alone behind them all, “in a cloak of black cloth embroidered with silver, and a pair of white hose”. He entered the courtyard of the bishop’s palace, to the sound of music played by every kind of instrument, and passed into the great hall. Here Mary received him, and kissed him in presence of all the people. Taking him by the hand, she led him into the presence chamber, where after conversing with her for a quarter of an hour, under the cloth of estate, “to the great comfort and rejoicing of the beholders,” Philip took his leave and went to Evensong at the Cathedral, returning afterwards by torch-light to his lodging.

The following day, 25th July, Feast of St. James, the patron saint of Spain, was fixed for the marriage. The Cathedral was entirely hung with arras and cloth of gold. From the west entrance to the rood-screen, separating the nave from the chancel, a platform had been erected for the first part of the service. Under the rood-loft, on either side, a canopied seat called a traverse, draped with cloth of gold, was placed for the royal bride and bridegroom. Similar seats were also placed for them within the choir, in front of the altar. At about eleven o’clock, Philip, accompanied by his suite, and wearing a white doublet and trunk hose, a mantle of cloth of gold, ornamented with pearls and precious stones, which Mary had sent him, the collar of the Golden Fleece, and the brilliant blue ribbon of the Garter, entered by the western door, to the sound of trumpets, and proceeded to his place under the rood-loft. After waiting for half an hour, he was joined by the Queen, who wore a dress of white satin, scarlet shoes, and a mantle of cloth of gold, studded and fringed with diamonds of great price. Before her walked the Earl of Derby, bearing the sword of state.

Hundreds of spectators, from all parts of Christendom, attired with great magnificence, crowded the church, and made the sight one of dazzling splendour. When the bride and bridegroom reached their respective traverses, says the chronicler, they were shriven,[463] and afterwards stood up together by the rood, the Bishops of Winchester, London, Durham, Chichester, Lincoln and Ely, preceded by their croziers, having come from the choir to that place. But before the ceremony began, Don Juan Figueroa, Regent of Naples, and a member of the Emperor’s Council, handed to the English Chancellor two instruments, by which Charles V. made over to his son his sovereignty over the kingdom of Naples, and the Duchy of Milan, so that, as Gardiner at once declared to the assembly, “it was thought the Queen’s Majesty should marry but with a prince; now it was manifested that she should marry with a king”.[464]

Then the banns were bidden, in Latin and in English, and the marriage was solemnised, the Queen standing on the right side, the King on the left, while the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls of Derby, Bedford and Pembroke gave her to her husband, in the name of the whole realm. The nuptial blessing was pronounced by Gardiner, who was the officiating prelate in default of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

“Then all the people gave a great shout, praying God to send them joy, and the ring being laid upon the book to be hallowed, the Prince laid also upon the said book, three handfuls of fine gold, which the lady Margaret[465] seeing, opened the Queen’s purse, and the Queen smilingly put up in the same purse. And when they had enclosed their hands, immediately the sword was advanced before the King, by the Earl of Pembroke.”[466] The marriage ring was a plain hoop of gold without any stone, for the Queen had said: “she would be married as maidens were in the old time, and so she was”.[467]

“After the marriage knot thus knit, the King and Queen came hand in hand, under a rich canopy, being borne over them with six knights, and two swords before them, all the lords both English and strangers, richly apparelled going afore them, the trumpets then blowing, till they came into the choir, where all the priests and singing men, all in rich copes, began to sing a psalm used in marriages, the King and Queen kneeling a while before the altar, each of them having a taper afore them. Then after, her Majesty went into her traverse on the right side, and the King into another on the left side; after the Gospel, they came out, and kneeled before the altar openly all the Mass time, and the care-cloth was holden over them; and he kissed the bishop at the Agnus and then her Majesty. The Mass done, the King of Heralds openly in the church, and in presence of the King, the Queen, the lords and ladies, and all the people, solemnly proclaimed their Majesties King and Queen, with their title and style in manner as followeth: Philip and Mary by the grace of God, King and Queen of England, France, Naples, Jerusalem, Ireland, Defenders of the Faith, Princes of Spain and Sicily, Archdukes of Austria, Dukes of Milan, Burgundy and Brabant, Counts of Hapsburg, Flanders and Tyrol.”[468]

At three o’clock, the royal procession left the Cathedral, and the King and Queen walked hand in hand to the banqueting hall. According to the Spanish accounts of the banquet, none were seated at the royal table but the King and Queen. Some of the English chronicles state that a third place was assigned to Gardiner, the only dignitary admitted to their table. Farther off, tables occupying the whole length of the room were placed for the members of the court, the foreign ambassadors, Philip’s suite and the other guests. De Noailles had absented himself from the whole of the marriage ceremonies, judging that it was beneath his master’s dignity for the imperial ambassador to take precedence of him. Edward Underhill thus describes the banquet:—

“On the marriage day, the King and the Queen dined in the hall in the bishops palace, sitting under the cloth of estate, and none else at that table. The nobility sat at the side tables. We (the gentlemen pensioners) were the chief servitors to carry the meat, and the Earl of Sussex, our captain, was the shewer. The second course at the marriage of a king is given unto the bearers; I mean the meat, but not the dishes, for they were of gold. It was my chance to carry a great pasty of red deer, in a great charger, very delicately baked, which for the weight thereof, divers refused, the which pasty I sent unto London, to my wife and her brother, who cheered therewith many of their friends.”[469]

At the bottom of the hall was an orchestra, and music was played during nearly the whole time of the banquet. Towards the end, the Winchester schoolboys came in, and some of them recited poems and epithalamiums in honour of the marriage. The Queen rewarded them handsomely. After the banquet followed a ball, at which Underhill compared the Spanish dancing unfavourably with the English, and especially with that of Lord Braye and Mr. Carew, a criticism that must certainly be put down to British prejudice. Before nine o’clock, all had retired, but the feasting and rejoicing were continued for several days, after which the King and Queen went to Basinghouse, and thence to Windsor. Here, a chapter of the Order of the Garter was held, and Philip was installed. During the preparations for this ceremony, an overzealous herald hoisted down the arms of England and substituted those of Spain, but he was peremptorily ordered to replace them as they were.[470]

On the 7th August, a great public hunt was held, with toils five and six miles long, “and many a deer that day was brought to the quarry”.

So far, the Emperor and his ministers were satisfied with the success of their policy. On the 4th August, the Bishop of Arras wrote to Renard, expressing “incredible content, that the marriage for which both had worked, for so long, was accomplished, to the mutual satisfaction of both parties, and that the King was behaving in every way so well, that he had gained the approbation of all in England”. He foresaw, he said, many difficulties still, but hoped that with gentleness and benignity, they might not prove too great.[471]

Meanwhile, the King and Queen had made their public entry into London, and although there is nothing in the records to indicate that the citizens made any hostile demonstration against Philip, their reception of him cannot have been altogether gratifying, for after his second visit to the capital in September, Renard observed:—

“Since the return of the King to London, the vigil of St. Michael, the citizens have recovered altogether from the insolence which they at first showed, and seemed to comprehend, and taste at last, the honour and welfare which the alliance has brought to England, and the repose and tranquillity that are the result”.[472] The nobility, he went on to say, were beginning to accommodate themselves, and to converse with the Spaniards, admiring the humanity and virtue of the King, so that things were more peaceful than usual. At first, there had been, he said, some embarrassment, because things had not been arranged properly, but since the Council had been informed of the difficulty in getting the suite lodged, they had given such orders, that the citizens no longer objected to lodge the strangers, and that now all was well, except that they were made to pay exorbitant rents, which also would be reformed. It was true, he continued, that the heretics could not get over the matter of religion, and had been much troubled by the articles which the Bishop of London (Bonner) had caused to be printed and published, and notably on account of the form and name of the Inquisition, in which they had been conceived, but the publication had continued, in spite of murmurs, and they could do nothing, Madam Elizabeth being under arrest. All their hope now lay in the Earl of Arundel, who was an enemy of the Chancellor, and who hoped to marry his son to the Princess.

At the public entry of their Majesties into London, one small but ominous misadventure has been recorded showing the drift of Puritan feeling. The streets were gaily decorated, and the citizens indulged their love of pageantry freely. At the Conduit in Gracechurch Street, figures had been painted representing “Nine Worthies,” among whom were Henry VIII., Edward VI. and Mary. Henry VIII. wore armour, and had a sword in one hand, while he held a book in the other. On the book was inscribed in Latin The Word of God. He was supposed to be handing the Bible to Edward, who was standing in a corner by his side.

“Hereupon was no small matter made, for the Bishop of Winchester, lord Chancellor sent for the painter, and not only called him knave, for painting a book in King Henry’s hand, and specially for writing thereupon Verbum Dei, but also rank traitor and villain, saying to him that he should rather have put the book into the Queen’s hand (who was also painted there) for that she had reformed the Church and religion, with other things, according to the pure word of God indeed. The painter answered and said, that if he had known that had been the matter wherefore his lordship sent for him he could have remedied it, and not have troubled his lordship. The bishop answered and said, that it was the Queen’s Majesty’s will and commandment, that he should send for him; and so commanding him to wipe out the book and Verbum Dei, he sent him home. So the painter departed, but fearing lest he should leave somewhat either of the book or of Verbum Dei in King Henry’s hand, he wiped away a piece of his fingers withal.”[473]

Another discordant note was struck by the circumstance that the Council either by design or accident delayed inviting the French ambassador to take part in the procession, till half an hour before the King and Queen set forth from Southwark. De Noailles received the invitation by means of “a shabby-looking individual, who said he was one of the newly made heralds,” and pleaded the shortness of time in which to make a creditable appearance, and to get himself to Southwark, a distance of at least two miles from his house.[474] Nevertheless, as soon as might be, he solicited an audience, and was received by the Queen on the 21st August. On expressing his congratulations, coupled with regrets at not having been able to be present at the wedding festivities, like the other ambassadors, his desires for her prosperity and for peace between France and England being no less than she herself could wish, Mary replied that she had not forgotten what she had said to him at their first interview, relating to the friendship contracted between the two countries during her father’s and her brother’s lifetime. She had, she declared, maintained it intact; and in spite of the troubles in the past, all things being now settled to her great contentment, she hoped that the peace for which she had so deep an affection would never be violated.

On leaving the Queen’s presence, de Noailles proceeded to an audience with Philip, an occasion of still deeper concern to him. The following remarks, which he wrote for his master’s information, reveal the want of good faith and mutual confidence through the polite speeches made on either side.

“On being conducted to him, I said that I had taken advantage of the first opportunity to pay my respects to his Majesty, and to inform him as ambassador of the very Christian King, residing at the Court of the Queen of England, his good sister, that their Majesties had hitherto lived, and had caused their subjects to live, in peace and sincere friendship with each other. This peace and friendship I trusted, would not be troubled or diminished by his advent on the throne, but rather be increased thereby, and that he would as far as possible be the means of the pacification of all Christendom, as the said Lady and her Council had often predicted. And I added, that I prayed our Lord to permit the tranquillity in which his Highness had found these two realms in their relations with each other, to continue perpetually. In this case, I said, he might count on my co-operation as minister and humble servant of his Majesty, who like a true prince made a point of observing his promises faithfully. When I had finished my speech, the said King called the Chancellor, and told him in Latin, that he had perfectly understood what I had said, although he could not speak French, and he begged him to reply to me, and say that both before and since his arrival in this country, he had sworn and promised to maintain the alliances which the Kingdom of England had contracted with neighbouring princes, and in which he had found this realm, as long as it should be for the good and convenience of England. He thanked me moreover for the good service which I had offered to do in this matter, and for the trouble I had taken in coming to see him, his answer being clearly forged in the Emperor’s, as well as in the English smithy, as one may see, by the pains they take to show that they are not wanting in the will to make war on the first convenient occasion.”[475]

But Mary at least was anxious for peace, and she wrote to Henry II. expressing herself in no ambiguous terms on the subject.[476] At the same time, she knew not how to satisfy all the various conflicting demands on her justice, her fidelity to her people, to her husband and to her conscience. Philip had shown himself so willing, in every way, to respect national customs and prejudices; he was so careful in his intercourse with Englishmen to seem to identify his interests with theirs, that it was felt something must also be conceded to his tastes. Hitherto the palace gates had been open to all comers; the Queen was easy of access to the humblest petitioner, and the Venetian ambassador has recorded that from early morning till late at night she gave audiences without ceasing. A few days after their public entry into London, their Majesties removed to Hampton Court, where more of Spanish etiquette and of that aloofness which characterised the majesty of Spain began to be observed. Before long, there were murmurs because the hall door within the courtyard was now kept continually shut, so that no man might enter, unless his errand were first known, “which seemed strange to Englishmen that had not been used thereto”.[477]

Philip may have considered this withdrawal from close contact with the people a necessity, on account of the unsatisfactory state of London, which was constantly the scene of attacks against religious ceremonies, disputes at street corners, concerning points of doctrine, and the interpretation of different passages of Scripture. Not unfrequently, the brawl would end in vituperation of the Queen, of Philip and of their marriage, in language that was no less than treason. Renard had repeatedly expressed the opinion that these disturbers of the public peace should be punished as rebels, and not as heretics. Such a proceeding would certainly have been far more diplomatic, although the outrages perpetrated sprang obviously from religious discontent. The Chancellor and the Bishop of London ruled that they came within the episcopal province and jurisdiction, and proceeded against them in the religious sense, sometimes dispensing with the royal sign manual altogether. The articles mentioned in Renard’s letter as having been published by Bonner in September came under this head. The Council called him to account for having acted without sufficient warrant, and, above all, without the seal of their Majesties. Bonner replied, that these were things dependent on his office and jurisdiction, and that he knew well, in communicating them to the Council, annoyances and hindrances would have been put in his way; that he had acted in the service of God, and that in religious questions one must advance boldly, without fear. He gave instances from the Old Testament, to prove that God helped those who upheld His laws, observed His commandments, and adhered faithfully to Him.

Later on, the Council altered their tactics, and Bonner was accused of dilatoriness in examining heretics.

Gardiner, preaching at Paul’s Cross, about this time, inveighed against the prevailing heresies, but in such a manner that his audience took his words in good part, although there were more than ten thousand persons present. He touched discreetly on the Queen’s marriage, and had it not been for Bonner’s articles, the agitation in London would have gradually subsided. But the disturbances which they caused became so serious, and the people remonstrated to such purpose, that they were temporarily withdrawn. Even then, the Londoners were not satisfied, erroneously connecting the Bishop’s measures with Spanish policy, and clamouring for the arrival of Reginald Pole, who, in spite of his long exile, was known to be a thorough Englishman at heart, and to have been disinclined to the Queen’s marriage.

But although, when once the alliance was an accomplished fact, the Emperor’s zeal for the salvation of souls appeared suddenly to awake, and although he expressed keen anxiety that the Papal Legate should proceed at once to his mission in England,[478] Pole was still prevented from accomplishing it. His desire to return to his native land was as great as that of his fellow-countrymen for his presence among them, and on the 21st September, he wrote to Philip, complaining that it was now a year since he commenced knocking at his palace gate, nor as yet had any one opened it to him. Were the King to ask, “Who knocks?” he would reply, “I am he, who in order not to exclude your consort from the throne of England, endured expulsion from home and country, and twenty years of exile”. Were he merely to say this much, would he not seem worthy to return to the land of his birth, and to have access to the King? But as he was not acting in his own name, nor as a private person, he knocked and demanded in the name and person of the vicegerent of the King of kings and the Pastor of man, namely, the successor of Peter, or rather of Peter himself, whose authority, heretofore so flourishing and vigorous in England, was now most injuriously ejected thence. Through Pole, Peter had long been knocking at the royal gate, which although open to others, was still closed to him alone. The voice perhaps was not heard? Continuing in the same strain, he expostulated with Philip and Mary, and concluded by saying that if he personally were not acceptable, he begged that another might be summoned in his stead.[479]

Few, conversant with the celebrities of the sixteenth century, will fail to see in Reginald Pole the most distinguished Englishman of his day. Of royal descent, a notable scholar and a man whose conscience ruled every action of his life, he voluntarily exiled himself, when, at the cost of a single principle, the highest preferments in Church or State lay open to him. Two passions marked his singularly blameless career: love of his country and devotion to the Holy See. He turned his back on the one, when the King renounced the other, and made it high treason to continue to acknowledge the Pope Head of the Church of England. We have seen that when Pole refused to return to England he was declared a traitor, a price was put upon his head, and his aged mother was brought to the block.

Paul III. made him a Cardinal, in order to avail himself of his knowledge and brilliant talents at the Council of Trent, and at the death of that Pontiff, he was the imperial candidate for the Papacy. Had he possessed a particle of ambition he might have controlled the Conclave.

On Mary’s accession, he wrote many urgent appeals to the Queen, beseeching her to lose no time in riveting the broken chain between England and Rome. He possessed undoubted influence with her, but less than the Emperor, who counselled delay, and took care that the interests of the empire should before all be secured. The eldest son of the Church, Charles ever made religion the handmaid of politics; and as for Philip, in spite of his boasted maxim, that it would be better not to reign at all, than to reign over a nation of heretics, he was content always to play a waiting game, and above all to follow his father’s lead. Pole, in common with Gardiner, had considered that Mary was fatally mistaken in allying herself with Spain, that the English would have been far more easily reconciled to Rome if every other foreign element had been excluded, and confidence in herself planted on a firm and solid basis, and that, at all events, the re-establishment of Papal jurisdiction should have been her first care in ascending the throne. If, when the kingdom was at her feet, she had freed herself from the Emperor’s influence, and had summoned Pole in his official capacity as Papal Legate, he believed that the movement towards reunion would have been a truly national one.

In many ways, Pole’s opinion was justified by facts. The enthusiasm with which Mary had been greeted, although perhaps mainly owing to the affection she inspired, was also in no small measure due to the recoil of the people from the innovations of Edward’s reign, innovations that had abounded in disillusion, and that had set the hearts of many burning within them with desire for the old religion. But de Noailles, Suffolk, Wyatt and others, had successfully availed themselves of the unpopularity of the Queen’s contemplated marriage to rouse the Puritan minority against her throne, and her religion; and the Emperor, knowing Pole’s opinions, and being well aware of the weight they would have in England, detained the Legate till all dread of his interference was at an end.

Great as was his disappointment at the enforced delay, Pole was not the man to resent or resist the obstacles put in his way. He did what he could, to fulfil his secondary mission, which was to promote peace between the King of France and the Emperor; and he conferred diligently with the royal and imperial ministers, on the possibility of a modus vivendi between the two powers. From Brussels he went to Paris and made a favourable impression on Henry II., but failing to bring about the desired object, returned to the Netherlands. Charles received him coolly, believing him to have been the author of an intercepted letter, which had been actually written by one of his suite, to the Queen of England, dissuading her from marrying Philip. But this gave Pole the opportunity of assuring the Emperor, that he was convinced the Queen’s decision had been taken with the highest motives for the sake of religion, and in order to secure the royal succession, and that such being the case, he cordially approved it.[480] Philip was now in England, and the Legate, like the Chancellor, made the best of what could no longer be avoided. Difficulties other than those concerning the empire kept him still an exile. They were of two kinds, one relating to himself personally, the other having reference to the religious state of England. The personal difficulty was the fact of his being still an outlaw, and as regarded the other, until there was some prospect of the accomplishment of his mission, it would be useless for him to cross the Channel.

The first, but least formidable barrier to the reunion of the kingdom with Rome, arose from the opposition of a small party unfavourable to Papal jurisdiction. This party was confined almost exclusively to London, and to parts of the southern and eastern counties, but wherever isolated bodies of Puritans were to be found scattered up and down the country, the same opposition naturally prevailed. The great masses of country gentlefolk had become, in consequence of the frequent changes of religion, indifferent to every form of faith; they would have been ready, at the call of the Sovereign, to embrace Judaism or Mohammedanism if their convenience or interest required it. The yeomanry, farmers and peasantry were nearly everywhere intensely Catholic, but especially in the north, where also a considerable number of landed gentry were ready to suffer all things in defence of the old religion. But another class had sprung up in the course of twenty-five years, consisting of almost every second wealthy family in the kingdom, enriched, in many cases entirely built up, from the spoils of the churches and monasteries. And these would never consent to any religious authority that might call their right to them in question. Cardinal Pole was known to be opposed to any recognition of the title of these lay proprietors; and without wasting efforts at this crisis, in an attempt to induce Parliament to reverse Pole’s attainder, the Chancellor appealed to the Pope for a bull, confirming them in their possessions.

In reply to the before-mentioned letter, in which Pole spoke of his having been kept knocking a whole year at the palace gates, Philip sent Renard to Brussels to negotiate. Having graphically described the state of the country, proving to the Legate that a general and immediate restitution was out of the question, Renard persuaded him to leave the matter for a time in abeyance. Meanwhile Julius III. signed a bull, empowering the Legate to give, alienate and transfer to the actual holders, all property which had been torn from the Church during the reigns of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. The Pope had considered, after consulting with canonists, that the continued alienation of Church property was justifiable, if it proved the means of restoring the realm to the faith.

This difficulty being settled, on Renard’s return to England, the Lords Paget and Hastings were sent to bring the Legate home. Sir William Cecil accompanied them, but in an unofficial capacity, probably because, having become a Catholic, he would be a persona grata to Pole, and also to the Emperor on account of his moderate views.[481]

Parliament met on the 12th November, and a bill was brought forward to reverse Pole’s attainder. It set forth that the sole cause of his disgrace was his refusal to consent to the unlawful divorce of the Queen’s father and mother, and in order that the repeal might be clearly understood as an act of justice, and not of grace, the cause was rejudged, the result being that both Houses repealed the attainder, and restored all his rights and privileges. The Great Seal put to this Act was, for more distinction, taken off in gold. Pole was then free to return to his native land, and was received at Dover on the 20th, with the honours due to a royal person. From Gravesend, he sailed up the Thames in the Queen’s barge, his silver cross at the prow, a crowd of smaller boats flying gala colours. At Westminster, the Chancellor welcomed him at the landing place, and conducted him to the palace. Their Majesties rose from dinner to greet him, receiving him at the top of the great staircase.

After delivering the briefs of his legation, he retired to the archiepiscopal palace at Lambeth, which had been prepared for his reception. Three days later, a royal message summoned the Lords and Commons to the court, where the Legate, in a long speech, acknowledged the act of justice done to him, invited the nation to a sincere repentance of its past errors, and exhorted the members of both Houses to receive with joy the reconciliation which he was charged by Christ’s Vicegerent here on earth to impart to them. As they, by repealing Acts made against him, had opened his country to him once more, so he was invested with full power to receive them back into the Church of God. He then retired, and the Chancellor addressed them, in a discourse beginning with the words, “The Lord shall raise up a prophet to thee from amongst thine own brethren,” making an allusion to himself as having been among the number of the delinquents. He urged them to rise from their fallen state, and to seek reconciliation with the common parent of all Christians.

The next day, both Houses passed a unanimous resolution to return to the communion of the Catholic Church.

On the 30th, Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle, the King sent the Earl of Arundel with six knights of the Garter and six prelates to escort the Legate to the House of Lords. He took his place at the Queen’s right hand, the King being on her left, but nearer to her. The Commons having been sent for, Gardiner recapitulated what he had before said, asking all present if they ratified his words, and desired to return to the unity of the Catholic Church and to the obedience owed to her chief pastor. The shouts and acclamations of the whole assembly answered him. He then handed a petition to the King and Queen, on behalf of both Houses of Parliament, as representatives of the nation, declaring their sorrow for the schism, and all that had been done against the See of Rome and the Catholic religion, requesting their Majesties to obtain of the Lord Legate, pardon and restoration, as true and living members to that body from which they had separated themselves by misdeeds.

When this petition had been read and returned to the Chancellor, who then read it aloud in the hearing of all, both Houses rose as one man, and went towards the Legate. He stepped forward to meet them, while the Queen, in her own name, and in that of the nation, petitioned him to grant them the pardon and reconciliation sued for. The Legate in a somewhat lengthy speech reminded them of the thanks due to divine Providence for this further proof of forbearance, and of the favour shown to England. Then the whole assembly fell prostrate, except the King and Queen, and the Cardinal pronounced the words of absolution, “from all heresy and schism, and all judgments, censures and penalties, for that cause incurred; and restored them to the communion of holy Church, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost”. “Amen” resounded from every part of the House, and the members rising from their knees, followed the royal procession into the chapel, where they returned thanks by chanting a solemn Te Deum.[482]

This apparent fervour was for the most part only on the surface. Had Pole not returned armed with a Papal dispensation, exonerating all the possessors of ecclesiastical plunder from the necessity of restoring it, he would have been received in a very different spirit. It was not possible to bring back the ages of faith to a generation that had grown sceptical from change and worldliness, and both Houses consisted largely of this class of people. When the question of restoring Church lands had come under discussion before the Papal dispensation had been published, the Earl of Bedford fell into a violent passion, and breaking his rosary beads from his girdle flung them into the fire, declaring that he valued his sweet abbey of Woburn more than fatherly counsel that should come from Rome.[483] Although Sir William Cecil might have expressed himself less warmly, he certainly shared this sentiment, in regard to his benefices of Putney, Mortlake and Wimbledon; and the express mention of the lands held by Sir William Petre and the confirmation of his title to them in the bull of Paul IV. are sufficient proof of the Chief Secretary’s unwillingness to part with the monastic property that had fallen to his share.[484] And these men were fairly representative of all those who had been enriched in this way. It was to such as these that Pole addressed his earnest admonition concerning the sacred vessels of the altar, that they might not be put to profane uses, while he entreated all those who were in possession of ecclesiastical revenues, “through the bowels of mercy of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, that from a regard to their own eternal lot, they would provide out of the Church lands, such especially as had been set aside for the maintenance of the parochial clergy, a competent subsistence for those who exercised that charge, which might enable them to live creditably, according to their state, and perform their functions, and support the burden of their calling”. On the first Sunday of Advent, he made his public entry into London, and heard High Mass at St. Paul’s. Gardiner on this occasion preached his famous sermon, in which he accused himself bitterly of his conduct under Henry VIII., and exhorted all who had fallen with him, or through his example, to rise with him, and return to the religion of their forefathers.[485] He took as the text of his discourse a part of the eleventh verse of the thirteenth chapter of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, “It is the hour to rise out of sleep”. On the following Thursday, both Houses of Convocation waited on the Cardinal at Lambeth, and kneeling, received absolution “from all their perjuries, schism and heresies”.[486]

To Mary the moment seemed to rain blessings. God was operating miracles of grace in her favour. From the midst of perils that had surrounded her from her childhood upwards, from ignominy such as the lowest in the land had never known, she had been raised to the throne. Those who had taken up arms against her had been twice signally defeated. By a marriage which she had contracted in spite of the most violent prejudice and opposition, she had allied her beloved country to the most powerful empire in the world, and now she had been the means, not only of restoring to it its birthright, but had thereby, in a certain sense, expiated and undone her father’s sin. To crown her glory, she was about to become a mother, and secure a long succession of Catholic monarchs to the throne. She had longed for it, and had hoped for some time; on the day of the Legate’s arrival she thought that she knew it as certain, and applied to herself the words of St. Elizabeth, on hearing the salutation of the Blessed Virgin.

Philip lost no time in informing the Pope of the happy issue of his solicitude for the conversion of England. On the very day of the reunion he wrote as follows:—