Virtual Grub Street: Seeing Queen Elizabeth I a bit closer: Worcester, 1575.

For all the mass of documents relating to Queen Elizabeth I and her reign it is not easy to get to know her intimately. We know quite a lot about her political courage and fears. About how she dressed, how she received ambassadors under various circumstances, even how she avoided taking responsibility for some of her actions over the years. We know the languages she spoke and how comparatively well, her skill upon the virginals, her love of dancing.

But, from time to time, a simple passage here and there paints a particularly revealing word portrait. Revealing, that is, through one or more small detail, thrown off in passing, yet so perfectly chosen, that we see her alive before us.

I have yet to discover the name of the person who wrote the account of her visit to Worcester as part of her progress of 1575. It was likely the city Recorder. He pays attention to small details most accounts do not.

Here, on Tuesday, August 16, 1575, leaving the gate of the city towards “Mr. Abyngton's house,” on the outskirts of Worcester, on her way from the Bishop’s Palace where she has been lodging. As always, she is accompanied by a large crowd of noblemen, government officials, special guests, security guards and all of their servants.

Upon Tuysday the 16 day of August her Hyghness did ryde towards Hynlypp, to Mr. Abyngton's house, to dine with a great number, amongst w[hi]ch both the Baylyffs, Aldermen, Orator, and High Chamberlain did ryde in their scarlett gownes, carrying [thei]r said maces before her Majestie in Sampsons Street, without the Foregate (being a made way) unto the end of our Lib[er]ties; and turning back again, and [a]lyghtyng from their horses, to have [done] their duties on their knees; and for that the ways wer fowle, her Majestic said unto them, I pray you, keep your horses, and do not alight.' And at her Majestie's coming homewards towards the Citie, the said Baylyffs, Aldermen, Orator, and High Chamberlain, mett her Majestie as before, without the Citie, about 8 of the clock in the [evening], and so did bear their maces before her Majestie unto the Palace Gate, she ryding on horseback, her cotche being p[re]sent, and fowle weather, with a cheerful pryncely countenance towards her subjects, praying for her Majestie; the w[hi]ch, turning her horse on every side, and commfortable speeches to her subjects, did give very hartie thanks divers and oftentymes: every howse in the street having both candles in lanterns, torches and candles burning on every side, besides a great number of staff torches carried on every side of her by her Garde, w[hi]ch all gave a marvelous light.[1]

For all of the orders of the City Council brusquely demanding that each responsible organization and party “kepe cleane their soyles, and pave the same” and the inhabitants of the main streets “provide gravell for [the streets’] soyles”[2], the road toward Hynlypp was foul. Nevertheless, the city officials started to dismount in order to kneel at the boundary of their domain to receive her blessing, as custom strictly required, thereafter to rise and return. They were wearing their very finest clothing which they would deeply soil, at a great expense of comfort, dignity and money, and she preempted them with ‘I pray you, keep your horses, and do not alight.’ For a monarch it was an act of unusual thoughtfulness.

She returned at around 8 o’clock in the evening. Her coach followed behind in case she should prefer its less treacherous interior on the rain sodden roads at so late an hour. Regardless, she rode her courser. Upon her return through the city, at the gate leading toward the palace, among cries of love and appreciation from the crowds, surrounded by the glow of torches and tapers, she deftly pivoted her horse several times 360°, in a gesture more common to a male monarch, repeatedly thanking all of the people there in a loud voice as she did. If she did this side-saddle (as she always rode) without the aid of a handler she showed an expertise that she alone may have possessed.

We may not learn as much about Elizabeth by the account of her departure but we do learn from our remarkably descriptive guide, that all was not pageantry during these visits and especially during the travel between.

abowte three in the clock in the afternoon, her Majestie disposyng to ryde away… And having a way made up the stuble fylde, bey[o]nd the barne beyonde the Cross at Tewkesbury lane ende, towards Batenhall Park, the Freemen of the Citie stoode arow in their gownes, or best apparel, and above them the 48 in their gownes of violet in grayne, and then some of the 24, not having been Baylyffs, in murrey in grayne, and all the rest that had been Baylyffs in scarlett, stretching to the top of the hill there; at w[hi]ch place the Baylyffs, Aldermen, Orator, and High Chamberlain alighted,… And so departed with teres in her eyes; and the people with a lowd cry sayd, ' God save yr Majestie!' And so proceeded towards Batenhall, and through Batenhall Park, through made ways, with a great trayne before and behynd;…[3]

The Queen and her party left through a vacant field at the outskirts of the city, dotted with wild grass, and, surely, dry soil. The weather had not been good: the skies were probably gray, there was probably a wind. The city’s freemen lined the way, so much proud finery in a barren place.

With the right guide we see more than we generally can.

[1] Nichols, John. Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth (1823). I.540.

[2] Ibid., I.533.

[3] Ibid., I.542.