QUEEN ELIZABETH; HER PROGRESSES AND PUBLIC PROCESSIONS. No. IV. CONDITION OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH IN THE REIGN OF MARY-HER ARREST AT ASHRIDGE, AND REMOVAL TO LONDON. THE death of King Edward the Sixth, which occurred on the 6th of July, 1553, was concealed for two days by the Protector, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, who was desirous of taking measures to secure the succession of his daughter-in-law, Lady Jane Grey, in conformity with the will which Edward had been induced to make, upon his deathbed, setting aside his sisters Mary and Elizabeth. It was important for the protector's object, that he should have the persons of the two sisters in his hands; and with this view he wrote letters in the king's name requiring their immediate attendance. Mary had nearly fallen into the snare; she was journeying to town when a secret messenger met her with a private communication of Edward's death and the machinations of Northumberland. She immediately turned her horse towards the eastern counties, and never rested till she had reached her castellated mansion of Kenninghall, in Norfolk, which lay at too great a distance from the metropolis to be suddenly surprised. Elizabeth remained tranquil at her residence in Hertfordshire, where she was waited on by Northumberland, who apprized her of Edward's death and the accession of the Lady Jane, and proposed to her that she should resign her own title to the crown in consideration of a sum of money and certain lands which should be assigned to her. With characteristic prudence Elizabeth replied," that her VOL. XII. elder sister, the Lady Mary, was first to be agreed withal; for as long as the said Lady Mary lived, she for her part could challenge no right at all." 66 The brief reign of Lady Jane Grey ended on the 20th of July; and towards the close of that month, as Queen Mary advanced at the head of her army towards London, the Princess Elizabeth went into Essex to meet her, with a large cavalcade of knights and ladies; Stow says that she was accompanied by one thousand horse, of knights, ladies, gentlemen, and their servants." Four days afterwards she rode with the Queen to the Tower, through the richly decked streets of the city, amid the discharges of ordnance and the acclamations of the people; seven hundred and forty velvet-coated nobles and gentlemen preceded them, and one hundred and eighty ladies followed them. As an illustration, indeed, of the intimacy which at this period subsisted between the two sisters, it is related by Fox the martyrologist, that " Queen Mary when she was first queen, before she was crowned, would go no whither but would have her [the Princess Elizabeth] by the hand, and send for her to dinner and supper." According to Holinshed, when Queen Mary rode through the city towards Westminster, upon the occasion of her coronation in October 1553, the chariot in which she sat was followed by another " having a covering of cloth of silver all white, and six horses trapped with the like, wherein sat the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady Anne of Cleve." According to the Spanish ambassador then in England, Elizabeth carried the crown 366 66 which was used on that occasion; and that func-suppressed, certain members of the council were sent tionary reported to his court, that the princess to Ashridge with a party of horse, with orders to whispered to Noailles, the French ambassador, that bring the princess to London, "either quicke or it was very heavy, and that she was tired with carrying dead." The messengers "at their sodaine and unit; and that the Frechman was heard to answer that provided commyng," to use the expressions of John she must be patient, and when soon placed on her Fox, the martyrologist, found her sore sicke in own head it would seem lighter. "As the Spaniards," her bed, and very feeble and weak of body." says Mr. Sharon Turner, were at some distance, Whither when they came (continues the same historian,) and could not have heard a private whisper very ascending up to her grace's privie chamber, they wylled perfectly, we may assume that the actual speech was, one of her ladyes whom they met, to declare unto her grace, that there were certaine come from the court which had a 'if it were on your own head it would not seem so.' But the situation of Elizabeth was soon altered.message from the queene. Her grace havyng knowledge When the design of Queen Mary to restore the Roman Catholic religion became apparent, the eyes of the whole Protestant party were anxiously turned towards the princess, who was well known to be attached to the reformed faith. This circumstance rendered her an object of jealousy and even of fear to the queen. The Venetian ambassador describes Mary as being "a prey to the hatred which she bears my Lady Elizabeth, and which has its source in the recollection of the wrongs she experienced on account of her mother, and in the fact that all eyes and hearts are turned towards my Lady Elizabeth as successor to the throne." Towards the close of 1553, Queen Mary was very earnest in her endeavours to induce her sister to practise the observances of the Roman Catholic religion. Elizabeth refused to comply; and her enemies then suggested that she should be imprisoned. "I do not doubt," wrote the French ambassador to his court," that her obstinacy will conduct her to the Tower soon after parliament meets, if things be resolved on as I think they will be." But Mary preferred endeavouring to compel her sister to conform. Elizabeth persisted in her refusal; and her conscientious preference of her own faith was imputed to seditious exhortations. The French ambassador, after relating that the princess would not hear mass nor accompany her sister to the chapel, in spite of all the remonstrances of the queen and her lords, adds, "It is feared that she is counselled and fortified in this opinion by some of the great, and that by these means some new troubles may be preparing." Again shortly afterwards he thus writes:-" The obstacle of Madame Elizabeth is not a little to be feared as up to this time she has been not at all willing to go to the mass. Last Saturday and Sunday the queen caused her to be preached to and entreated by all the great men of her council, who only drew from her at last a very rough answer." Again was her refusal imputed to disloyal machinations; and it was expected that the queen would change her household and even confine her in prison. In the beginning of the month of December, Elizabeth obtained permission to leave the court and retire to her house at Ashridge, in Buckinghamshire. Suspicion, however, still attached to her, and she was living every hour surrounded with peril. As the intentions of Mary (says Mr. Sharon Turner,) to bring back popery became visible, the greatest discontents began to arise, with an idea in some naturally arising from Henry's statutes against his daughter, that the young queen of Scots was the rightful heiress of the crown. But the danger to Elizabeth arose from the larger portion of the dissatisfied forming conspiracies to dispossess her sister, and to place her as a Protestant princess on the throne. Early in the year 1554 the rash and unfortunate insurrection of Sir Thomas Wyatt broke out. Although Elizabeth had no concern in this conspiracy, it involved her in much trouble, and caused her much personal suffering. On the 5th of February, immediately after the insurrection had been then very sicke, and the night farre spent, (which was at thereof, was right glad of their commyng; howbeit, being ten of the clocke,) she requested them by the messenger, that they woulde resort thyther in the mornyng. To this they answered, and by the said messenger sent worde againe, that they must needes see her, and would so doo, in what case soever she were. Whereat the lady being agast, went to shewe her grace their wordes; but they hastily folowing her, came rushyng as soone as she unto her grace's chamber unbydden. At whose sodaine commyng into her bed-chamber, her grace being not a little aiased, said unto them, Is the hast such that it might not have pleased you to come to-morrow in the mornyng? They made answere, that they were right sory to see her in that case. And I (quoth shee,) am not glad to see you here at this tyme of the night. Whereunto they answered, that they came from the queene to doo their message and duetie, which was to this effect, that the queene's pleasure was, that shee should be at London the seventh day of that present moneth. Whereunto shee saide,-Certes, no creature more glad then I to come to her majestie, beyng right sorye that I am not in ease at this tyme to wayte on her, as you yourselves doo see and can wel testifie. Indeede we see it true (quoth they), that you doo say to which we are very sorye. Albeit, we let you to understande, that our commission is such, and so strayneth us, that we must needes bryng you with us either quicke or dead. Whereat, shee beyng amased, sorowfully said, that their commission was very sore; but yet, notwithstanding shee hoped it to be otherwise and not so strayt.-Yes, verily, sayd they. In conclusion, they wylled her to prepare agaynst the mornyng at nyne of the clocke to goe with them, declaring that they had brought with them the queene's lytter for her. After much talke, the messengers declaring there was no prolongyng of tymes and dayes, so departed to their chamber, being enterteyned and cheered as apperteyned to their worships. On the following morning, at the hour prescribed, Elizabeth was led forth for her journey, very faint and feeble, and "in suche case that shee was redy to swound three or foure tymes" between them. "What should I speake here," exclaims John Fox, "that cannot well be expressed; what a heavy house there was to beholde the unreverend and doulefull dealyng of these men, but especially the carefull feare and captivitie of their innocent lady and maistresse." Although Elizabeth was able to travel " with lyfe," yet her illness was so severe, that it was not until the fourth night of her journey that she reached Highgate. Here being very sick, she tarried that night and the next day; "during which time of her abode," says Fox, "there came many pursuivants and messengers from the court, but for what purpose I cannot tell." When the princess entered London, great multitudes of people came flocking about her litter which she ordered to be opened for the purpose of showing herself. The remainder of her coming into London on this occasion is thus described in an old manuscript chronicle, clocke at night, my lady Elizabeth's grace came to London The same tyme and daye, between four and fyve of the through Smithfielde untoo Westminster, with C velvett cotts after her grace. And her grace rod in a charytt, opyn on both sydes, and her grace [had] ryding after her a 100 in cotts of fyne redde gardyd with velvett; and so through Flet-strete unto the court through the queene's garden, her grace being sycke. Our engraving contains a view of the old abbey at Ashridge, at which Elizabeth was arrested in the manner which we have just described. This place, the name of which was formerly written Esserugge, Aescrugge, Asserugge, and Ascherugge, is in the parish of Pitstone, in the county of Hertford. It is supposed by some to have been a royal residence before the foundation of the college, as it is well known to have been after the dissolution thereof. The name is derived from 66 a hill set with ash-trees;" the oldest denomination of the place being Aescrugge, from aesc, as the ash tree was first called, and rugge, a hill or steep place, afterwards written ridge. The college was completed in 1285, being founded by Edmund, Earl of Cornwall, whose father Richard*, a person of high repute for his heroic endowments, had been elected king of the Romans, by the unanimous consent of the princes of the empire. It was established for a rector and twenty brethren or canons, called Bonhommes, a religious order which had not been previously introduced into England. They were brought out of the south of France at a time when there existed in that country a sect who called themselves Boni Homines, (literally good men), and were termed in the vulgar Gascon dialect Los Bos Homes. The college at Ashridge was founded expressly in honour of the "precious blood of the holy Jesus;" and the occasion of so remarkable a dedication is thus related by Holinshed: Edmund, the son and heir of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, who was second son to King John, being with his father in Germany, and there beholding the reliques and other precious monuments of the ancient emperors, he espied a box of gold, by the inscription whereof he perceived (as the opinion of men then gave) that therein was contained a portion of the blood of our blessed Saviour. He therefore being desirous to have some part thereof, by fair intreaty and money obtained his desire; and brought the box over with him into England; bestowing a third part thereof after his father's decease in the abbey of Hailes, which his father had founded, and wherein his father and mother were both buried, whereby to enrich the said monastery; reserving the other two parts in his own custody; till at length, moved upon such devotion as was then used, he founded an abbey at Asserugge, in Hertfordshire, a little from the manor of Bercamsted, in which he placed the monks of the order of Bonhommes (good men), being the first that had ever been of that order in England; and assigned to them and their abbey the other two parts of the sacred blood. In the times of ignorance the imposition was successful, and brought multitudes to Hailes and Ashridge; but when the Reformation came it was discovered and exposed. Bishop Burnet relates the manner in which the exposure took place at Hailes, telling us that the blood there was found to be that of a duck. Of that at Ashridge, Speed says, Ashridge was in great repute for the blood (supposed out of Christ's sides) brought out of Germany by Edmund, eldest son of Richard, King of the Romans and Earl of Cornwall whereto resorted a great concourse of people for devotion and adoration thereof. But when the sunshine of the Gospel had pierced through such clouds of darkness, it was perceived apparently to be only honey clarified and coloured with saffron, as was openly shown at St. Paul's Cross by the Bishop of Rochester, 24th Feb. 1538. Very soon after the foundation of the college of Ashridge, it rose to be a place of some importance; It was this Earl Richard to whom the Pope Innocent the Fourth offered the kingdom of Sicily and Naples, but upon so many inadmissible conditions, that the earl's agent at Rome observed, "You might as well say to my lord and master, 'I sell or give you the moon; climb up, catch it and take it.'" for in the year 1291, King Edward the First held When she had been some time upon the throne, Elizabeth granted Ashridge for life to one of her gentlemen pensioners; and three years afterwards she granted it to John Dudley and John Ayscough, and their heirs. After passing through several hands, the property came eventually, in the reign of James the First, into the possession of Sir Thomas Egerton, Lord Ellesmere, celebrated for having been Lord Keeper to Queen Elizabeth, and Lord Chancellor to her successor King James the First. In his direct since vested; and by one of them the old abbey was descendants, the Bridgewater family, it has remained replaced some years ago, by the present structure, which is among the most magnificent modern residences in England. Of the few letters written by the Princess Elizabeth sister Mary from Ashridge in the reign of Edward the which have been preserved, the following written to her Sixth, is interesting both as a specimen of the epistolary correspondence of the age, and as an illustration of the relation which subsisted between the sisters before the accession of Mary. The Princess Elizabeth to the Princess Mary. Good sistar, as to hire of your siknes is unpleasant to me, so is it nothinge feareful, for that I understand it is your olde gest that is wont oft to visit you, whose comminge thogth it be oft yet is it never welcome, but notwithstanding it is comfortable for that "jacula prævisa minus feriunt." And as I do understande your nede of Jane Russel's wiche if I had knowen afore I wold have caused his wil service, so am I sory that it is by my man's occasion letted, give place to nede of her service, for as it is her duty to obey his commandement, so is it his part to attende your pleasure; and as I confesse it were miter [meeter] for him to go to her sins she attendes uppon you, so indide he required the same but for that divers of his felowes had busines abrode that made his tarijnge at home. Good sistar, thogth I have good cause to thanke you for your oft sendinge to me, yet I have more occasion to rendre you my harty thankes for your gentil writinge, which how painful it is to you I may wel gesse by my selfe, and you may wel se by my writinge so oft how pleasant it is to me. And thus I ende to troble you, desiring God to sende you as wel to do as you can thinke and wische or I desire or pray. From Hasherige, scribled this 27th of October. THE HOUSE I LIVE IN. No. V. MAN's body's like a house; his greater bones "Twixt the great chamber and the spacious hall; Or strong or weak, 'tis apt to stand or fall.-QUARLES. THE House I live in differs in some respects, as we have already seen, from many buildings. An ordinary building of wood, brick, or stone, is intended to stand firmly, no part, excepting the doors and windows, being made for motion. The ends of each part are usually fitted together by square-edged joints, with great exactness, and the frame is kept together by girths, braces, &c. There are indeed a few parts of the House I occupy, which are not intended to have much motion; but in general the reverse is the case. Even the girths and braces are designed to regulate and direct its movements, but not entirely to prevent them. The joints, instead of being framed together by means of tenons and mortices, and kept as dry as possible, are rounded and made smooth, and moistened by a sort of oil, to suit them for motion, rather than to hinder it. There are indeed a few joints-if joints they ought to be called-which are firm and unyielding; I mean the teeth. These, as we have already seen, are set into the jaw-bones, as firmly as are tenons into mortices, and even more so. They seem to stand there like nails or spikes, when driven into planks or timbers. The bones of the head, too, are joined firmly together in adults, as you have already been told. Some of the joints of the human frame are real hinges. To this class belong the knee-joints, the joints of the toes and finger, and those of the elbow. The lower jaw may also be called a hinge-joint. The ankle-joints, the joints of the wrists, and indeed many others, sometimes move like hinges, but they perform other and very different motions besides. HIP JOINT. But the most curious joints in the human frame are what are called the balland-socket joints. The more important of these are the shoulder and the hip. At a you see the deep hollow or socket in the bone, where the round head of the femur, or thigh bone, moves. This round head is drawn back from the bottom of the socket a little way, in order to show the round ligament near a. The latter is a very tough, strong cord, fixed by one end at the bottom of the HIP JOINT. socket, very firmly, and by the other fastened as strongly to the round head of the femur. If it were not for this ligament, the joint would be dislocated, or slipped out of its place, a thousand times more frequently than at present; for now indeed this but seldom happens. Around the socket at the hip is a tough, gristly rim, which greatly increases its depth. This socket is called the acetabulum; meaning vinegar-cup. It was supposed to resemble a kind of ancient vinegar-cup in use among the Romans. Annexed is a figure of another ball-and-socket joint, and also of a hinge-joint-the shoulder being an illustration of the ball working in a socket, and the elbow acting upon the principle of a hinge. Every one understands the nature of a hinge, which is in such constant use, and therefore the motion of the elbow-joint will be very readily understood. Let us examine the joint of the elbow. The lower portion of the arm is formed of two bones, one large, called the ulna, and the other smaller, called the radius. The upper end of the small bone d, is a little rounded, and it lies against a small hollow, or depression, in the other bone, the ulna, at g, to which it is tied by cords, called ligaments, goes round it like a band. particularly by one which The ends of these two bones, thus united, turn on the end of the upper one, which is rounded and tipped with cartilage, and thus fitted for the purpose, as we see at f. They are kept together in a living person, (as indeed all bones are,) by broad and short straps or cords, called ligaments, which adhere to each end of the bone a little way from the joint, and are very tight and strong, and yet not so tight as to hinder the proper degree of motion. motions are requisite, which may be employed sepaTo enjoy the entire use of the arm, two aistinct rately or together, at will. For this purpose, while attached to the humerus, or bone of the upper-arm, one of the bones of the fore-arm only, the ulna, is the smaller bone of the fore-arm, or radius, is enabled to move in a hollow, or depression of the ulna, by of the arm, this arrangement is reversed; the radius, means of its rounded upper end. At the lower end instead of furnishing the head, becomes in turn the receiver, and the prominence of the ulna plays within a depression on its surface. By means of this reversed arrangement, the greatest freedom of motion is admitted, and, by the greater pliability which is gained, fractures and dislocations rendered less likely to occur. But a ball-and-socket joint is more curious still. The bone which is represented at b, is the scapula, or shoulder-blade. The hollow place at e, is the socket in which the round head or ball, a, of the upper bone of the arm, (the humerus,) plays freely, when the arm is moved. The socket is so shallow, and the ligaments so long, in order to enable us to make almost every kind of motion with our arms, that it is much more easily slipped out of joint, or dislocated, than are the hinge-joints. Even the hip, which is also a ball-and-socket joint, has a much deeper socket; and it is partly on this account, and by a different arragement of muscles, that we cannot swing our legs round with as much freedom as we can our arms. The number of hinge and other joints in the frame of the House I live in is very great. It must be nearly, if not quite, a hundred and fifty. You see the wisdom of the great Creator fully displayed in this structure and connexion of the bones. What if the joint of the knee could move in every direction, like that of the shoulder? Do you not see that when we walked, the legs would have dangled about strangely, instead of moving backwards and forwards in one direction only? And is it not plain that we never could have stood firmly on the ground? In like manner, how very inconvenient it would have been, to have our finger-joints move one way as well as another! On the contrary, how confined and cramped would have been the motion of the arm, if the shoulder had been like the knee, and had only permitted the arm to swing backwards and forwards, without our being able to carry it outward from the body! LIGAMENTS. BUT how are the joints held in their places? When we take up a bone which has lain, perhaps for years, bleaching in the sun and rain, we see that the ends are smooth, and some of them hinge-like; but if we take up two such bones, and put them together, they will not stay in that condition a moment, unless they are fastened by strings or wires, or something of the kind. How, then, are they kept together in the living person? This is what I am now about to tell you. They are held together by short and strong straps, called ligaments. Some of them, however, are longer, and begin at a considerable distance, say an inch or two, from the very end of one bone, and then, after passing over the joint, are fastened into the next. This strap, or ligament, does not adhere or stick to the joint, as it passes loosely over it, but is only fastened strongly, where it rises, and where it is inserted, as if it were there glued to the bone. The inside, where, in crossing, it lies against or rests gently on the joint, is very smooth; so that the joint, in moving, may not grate or wear out. These ligaments are white and shining, but not always very thick. They are usually very strong. Some of them are as narrow as a piece of tape. Others, as at the sides of the knee, or at the shoulder, are very wide. Some cross each other, as in the knee-joint. The latter are shown in the engraving, a. There are others that go all round the joint, and completely shut it up: as if the ends of the two bones were put into the two open ends of a short cylinder, or rather of a short bag or purse, and the open ends were then gathered round, and fastened tightly to the two bones; in this way, the joint would be completely shut up, as in a sack. This sort of ligament is called a capsular ligament. It would be difficult, nay, even impossible, to enumerate all the ligaments in the body, they are in many instances so interwoven with each other, and frequently inseparably united. It will be sufficient here to mention that the junction of the head with the spine, the whole length of the spine itself, the hand and the foot, are literally crowded with ligaments of different shapes and attachments, as may be best adapted for imparting strength and flexibility; and that each of the larger joints has several ligaments in connexion with it, the knee-joint alone being con sidered by some anatomists as having fourteen distinct ligaments to its own use. The bags, or sacs, called capsular ligaments, are principally intended to prevent the joint from being easily slipped out, or dislocated. They also serve for another purpose, scarcely less important-a purpose which shows the wisdom of the great Creator in the contrivance of the human frame, more than almost any other; if, indeed, any comparison can be made where all is excellent. The Father of the universe is the preserver as well as the creator of this "wondrous frame." Was there not something done to keep these joints oiled, if I may so call it, they would not last long. Take the knee, for example; and think what a vast deal of friction or rubbing together of the end of the thighbone and of the two leg-bones there must be. A traveller probably swings each leg, in walking, about 1200 times in a mile. If he should walk thirty miles a day all the year excepting Sundays, he would swing each knee 15,024,000 times. Were he to do this every year, from the time he was twenty years old till he was seventy, or for a period of half a century, the number of movements would be 751,200,000 times! Now this continued rubbing of the bones of the knee together, if they were allowed to get dry, would wear them so much in a single day, that we should hear a grating noise at every step, long before night, and, in a very few days, the bones would be completely worn out and unfit for use. I question if they would last even a whole day. Iron or steel would wear out in a very short time. What, then, can be the reason why the knees and all the other joints do not wear out? I have said that many of the joints are completely shut up, as if they were in a sack. Now the great Contriver of the animal frame has so contrived it, that a substance, called synovia, which answers all the purpose of oil or tar, continually oozes out on the inside of the ligaments at the joints, and keeps the ligaments themselves, and the joints, soft and moist. moist. The synovia, or liquor which thus oozes out to lubricate the joints, is of just the right quality and quantity when we are in perfect health. If we are unwell, there may be too little or too much, or it may be too thick or too thin. If we use food or drink that is too heating or irritating, the synovia will become less in quantity or of poorer quality. In these, and in other evils, prevention is better than cure. Those who live on moderate food, and avoid strong drinks, and work steadily but moderately, rarely have any trouble of this sort. It has been said, that the ligaments hold the joints together. They do so; but the tendons or straps, which go off from the ends of the muscles, and are fastened into the several bones around their joints, materially help to hold them together. There are other wonderful contrivances to keep the joints firm and yet moveable, into which we cannot at present go. That the great Creator made the joints to be used, is proved from their curious structure, and from the substance prepared to moisten them; but that they were not made to be used too violently is also proved by the fact, that if thus used, they become diseased. Sometimes the liquor called the synovia dries away; in these cases the limb becomes stiff and incapable of motion; at others, the joints become painful and often enlarged. It is but seldom, however, that they become diseased from mere exercise, provided our habits are temperate and regular; though occasionally rheumatic, and other painful affections, will encroach upon the ease of our sensations and the symmetry of our forms. |