It may, perhaps, be well to view her as a woman before we regard her more fully as a queen.  It has been said that Elizabeth inherited many of the traits of her father—­the boldness of spirit, the rapidity of decision, and, at the same time, the fox-like craft which often showed itself when it was least expected.

Henry had also, as is well known, a love of the other sex, which has made his reign memorable.  And yet it must be noted that while he loved much, it was not loose love.  Many a king of England, from Henry II. to Charles II., has offended far more than Henry VIII.  Where Henry loved, he married; and it was the unfortunate result of these royal marriages that has made him seem unduly fond of women.  If, however, we examine each one of the separate espousals we shall find that he did not enter into it lightly, and that he broke it off unwillingly.  His ardent temperament, therefore, was checked by a certain rational or conventional propriety, so that he was by no means a loose liver, as many would make him out to be.

We must remember this when we recall the charges that have been made against Elizabeth, and the strange stories that were told of her tricks—­by no means seemly tricks—­which she used to play with her guardian, Lord Thomas Seymour.  The antics she performed with him in her dressing-room were made the subject of an official inquiry; yet it came out that while Elizabeth was less than sixteen, and Lord Thomas was very much her senior, his wife was with him on his visits to the chamber of the princess.

Sir Robert Tyrwhitt and his wife were also sent to question her, Tyrwhitt had a keen mind and one well trained to cope with any other’s wit in this sort of cross-examination.  Elizabeth was only a girl of fifteen, yet she was a match for the accomplished courtier in diplomacy and quick retort.  He was sent down to worm out of her everything that she knew.  Threats and flattery and forged letters and false confessions were tried on her; but they were tried in vain.  She would tell nothing of importance.  She denied everything.  She sulked, she cried, she availed herself of a woman’s favorite defense in suddenly attacking those who had attacked her.  She brought counter charges against Tyrwhitt, and put her enemies on their own defense.  Not a compromising word could they wring out of her.

She bitterly complained of the imprisonment of her governess, Mrs. Ashley, and cried out: 

“I have not so behaved that you need put more mistresses upon me!”

Altogether, she was too much for Sir Robert, and he was wise enough to recognize her cleverness.

“She hath a very good wit,” said he, shrewdly; “and nothing is to be gotten of her except by great policy.”  And he added:  “If I had to say my fancy, I think it more meet that she should have two governesses than one.”

Mr. Hume notes the fact that after the two servants of the princess had been examined and had told nothing very serious they found that they had been wise in remaining friends of the royal girl.  No sooner had Elizabeth become queen than she knighted the man Parry and made him treasurer of the household, while Mrs. Ashley, the governess, was treated with great consideration.  Thus, very naturally, Mr. Hume says:  “They had probably kept back far more than they told.”