ose a parley, and the soldiers insisted that if reasonable
terms could be had, they should be accepted. The extremity of the
position was obvious, and Grey, as we have seen, was no stranger to
the law of arms in such cases. Hostages were exchanged, and the next
morning the two commanders met in the French camp.

Better terms were offered by Guise than had been granted to
Calais--Grey, Sir Henry Palmer, and a few officers should consider
themselves prisoners; the rest of the garrison might depart with their
arms, and "every man a crown in his purse." Grey, however, demanded
that they should march out with their colours flying; Guise refused,
and after an hour's discussion they separated without a conclusion.

But the soldiers were insensible to nice distinctions; if they
{p.305} had the reality, they were not particular about the form.
Grey lectured them on the duties of honour; for his part, he said, he
would rather die under the red cross than lose it. The soldiers
replied that their case was desperate; they would not be thrust into
butchery or sell their lives for vain glory. The dispute was at its
height when the Swiss troops began to lay ladders to the walls; the
English refused to strike another blow; and Grey, on his own rule,
would have deserved to be executed had he persisted longer.

Guise's terms were accepted. He had lived to repay England for his
spear wound at Boulogne, and the last remnant of the conquests of the
Plantagenets was gone.

Measured by substantial value, the loss of Calais was a gain. English
princes were never again to lay claim to the crown of France, and the
possession of a fortress on French soil was a perpetual irritation.
But Calais was called the "brightest jewel in the English crown." A
jewel it was, useless, costly, but dearly prized. Over the gate of
Calais had once stood the insolent inscription:--

"Then shall the Frenchmen Calais win,
When iron and lead like cork shall swim:"

and the Frenchmen had won it, won it in fair and gallant fight.

If Spain should rise suddenly into her ancient strength and tear
Gibraltar from us, our mortification would be faint, compared to the
anguish of humiliated pride with which the loss of Calais distracted
the subjects of Queen Mary.

CHAPTER VI.

DEATH OF MARY.

The queen would probably have found the parliament which met on the
20th of January little better disposed towards her than its
predece