made every necessary preparation for defence; but the English fleet was so small in comparison with that of the Spaniards, that her chief reliance was on the superior skill and bravery of her seamen and officers. The fleet was commanded by Lord Howard, of Effingham; Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher served under him. The land forces, which were very inferior to Philip's both in numbers and experience, were divided into several bodies. One, commanded by Lord Hunsdon, was appointed to guard the queen's person. Another, under Lord Leicester, was stationed at Tilbury Fort, in Essex. The rest were placed wherever it seemed most likely that the Spaniards would attempt a landing. But the chief support of the kingdom was the queen herself, who, showing no alarm at the dangers that threatened her, gave her orders with decision, and omitted nothing that could infuse courage into her people, and increase the general security. She appeared on horseback at the camp at 3Tilbury, and riding through the ranks, made so animating a speech to the soldiers, that a spirit of enthusiastic loyalty was roused in every one of them. The speech well deserves to be remembered; it is as follows:

"MY LOVING PEOPLE,-We have been persuaded of some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery: but I assure you, I do not live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my 4chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects. And therefore I am come amongst you, as you see at this time, not for any recreation and "disport, but being resolved in the midst and heat of the battle to live or die among you all; to lay down

for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood even in the dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king-ay, and of a king of England too—and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm; to which, rather than dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms; I myself will be your general, judge, and recorder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already for your forwardness you have deserved crowns; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the meantime, my lieutenant-general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded more noble or worthy subject; not doubting but by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and by your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over these enemies of my God, my kingdom, and my people."

1

2

Philip of Spain, Philip II., husband of Queen Mary, upon whose death Elizabeth came to the throne. transports, ships used for carrying soldiers, warlike stores, etc. 3 Tilbury, the name of a fort in Essex, on the left bank of the Thames. chiefest, chief is the modern form; chiefest was frequently used in Queen Elizabeth's time. 5 disport, diversion, amusement. stomach, pride. forwardness, zeal, boldness, ardour. concord, harmony, union, agreement.

7

NOTE.-For Armada, see App.

8

6

THE triumph of her lieutenant, 1Mountjoy, flung its lustre over the last days of Elizabeth, but no outer triumph

could break the gloom which gathered round the dying queen. Lonely as she had always been, her loneliness deepened as she drew towards the grave. The statesmen and warriors of her earlier days had dropped one by one from her council board; and their successors were watching her last moments, and intriguing for favour in the coming reign. The old splendour of her court 3waned and disappeared. As she passed along in her progresses, the people, whose applause she courted, remained cold and silent. The temper of the age, in fact, was changing, and isolating her as it changed. She had enjoyed life as the men of her day enjoyed it, and now that they were gone she clung to it with a fierce tenacity. She hunted, she danced, she jested with her young favourites, she coquetted and scolded, and frolicked at sixty-seven as she had done at thirty. "The queen," wrote a courtier, a few months before her death, was never so gallant these many years, nor so set upon jollity." She persisted, in spite of opposition, in her gorgeous progresses from country-house to country-house. She clung to business as of old, and rated in her usual fashion. But death crept on. Her face became haggard, and her frame shrank almost to a skeleton. At last, her taste for finery disappeared, and she refused to change her dresses for a week together. A strange melancholy settled down on her. "She held in her hand," says one who saw her in her last days, "a golden cup, which she often put to her lips; but in truth her heart seemed too full to need more filling."

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Some incidents happened which revived her tenderness for Essex, and filled her with the deepest sorrow for the consent which she had unwarily given to his execution.

The Earl of Essex, after his return from the fortunate expedition against Cadiz, observing the increase of the

assiduous in their

queen's fond attachment towards him, took occasion to regret that the necessity of her service required him often. to be absent from her person, and exposed him to all those ill offices which his enemies, more attendance, could employ against him. She was moved with this tender jealousy; and, making him the present of a ring, desired him to keep that pledge of her affection, and assured him that into whatever disgrace he should fall, whatever prejudices she might be induced to entertain against him, yet, if he sent her that ring, she would immediately, upon sight of it, recall her former tenderness, and would lend a favourable ear to his apology. Essex, notwithstanding all his misfortunes, reserved this precious gift to the last extremity; but after his trial and condemnation, he resolved to try the experiment, and he committed the ring to the Countess of Nottingham, whom he desired to deliver it to the queen. The countess was prevailed on by her husband, the mortal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission; and Elizabeth, who still expected that her favourite would make this last appeal to her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his invincible obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal combats, pushed by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution. The Countess of Nottingham falling into sickness, and affected with the near approach of death, was seized with remorse for her conduct; and having obtained a visit from the queen, she craved her pardon, and revealed to her the fatal secret. The queen, astonished at this incident, burst into a furious passion; she shook the dying countess in her bed, and crying to her that God might pardon her, but she never could, she broke from her, and thenceforth resigned herself over to the deepest and most incurable melancholy. She rejected all consolation; she even

refused food and sustenance; and throwing herself on the floor, she remained sullen and immovable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions, and declaring life and existence an insufferable burden to her. Few words she uttered, and they were all expressive of some inward grief which she cared not to reveal; but sighs and groans were the chief vent which she gave to her despondency. Ten days and nights she lay upon the carpet, leaning on cushions which her maids brought her; and her physicians could not persuade her to make trial of any remedies which they prescribed to her.

Gradually her mind gave way. She lost her memory, the violence of her temper became unbearable, her very courage seemed to forsake her. She called for a sword to lie constantly beside her, and thrust it from time to time through the 'arras, as if she heard murderers stirring there. Food and rest became alike distasteful. She sate day and night propped up with pillows on a stool, her finger on her lip, her eyes fixed on the floor, without a word. If she once broke the silence, it was with a flash of her old queenliness. 10Cecil asserted that she “must” go to bed, and the word roused her like a trumpet. "Must!" she exclaimed; "is must a word to be addressed to princes? Little man, little man! thy father, if he had been alive, durst not have used that word." Then, as her anger spent itself, she sank into her old dejection. "Thou art so presumptuous," she said, "because thou knowest I shall die." She rallied once more when the ministers beside her bed named Lord Beauchamp, the heir to the Suffolk claim, as a possible successor. will have no rogue's son," she cried hoarsely, "in my seat." But she gave no sign, save a motion of the head, at the mention of the King of Scots. She was, in fact, fast becoming insensible; and early the next morning the

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