written in a shaking hand. The address is
lost, and being dated the 14th of November, while
Mary was still alive, it has been described as to
her and not to her sister. But an endorsement "From
the queen's majesty at Hatfield," leaves no doubt
to whom it was written.]

This was the 14th of November. The same day, or the day after, a
lady-in-waiting carried the queen's last wishes to her successor. They
were the same which she had already mentioned to De Feria--that her
debts should be paid, and that the Catholic religion might be
maintained, with an additional request that her servants should be
properly cared for.[661] Then, taking leave of a world in which she
had played so ill a part, she prepared, with quiet piety, for the end.
On the 16th, at midnight, she received the last rites of the church.
Towards {p.317} morning, as she was sinking, mass was said at her
bedside. At the elevation of the Host, unable to speak or move, she
fixed her eyes upon the body of her Lord; and as the last words of the
benediction were uttered, her head sunk, and she was gone.

[Footnote 661: Among the apocryphal or vaguely
attested anecdotes of the end of Mary, she is
reported to have said, that if her body was opened,
Calais would be found written on her heart. The
story is not particularly characteristic, but
having come somehow into existence, there is no
reason why it should not continue to be believed.]

A few hours later (November 17), at Lambeth, Pole followed her, and
the reign of the pope of England, and the reign of terror, closed
together.

No English sovereign ever ascended the throne with larger popularity
than Mary Tudor. The country was eager to atone to her for her
mother's injuries; and the instinctive loyalty of the English towards
their natural sovereign was enhanced by the abortive efforts of
Northumberland to rob her of her inheritance. She had reigned little
more than five years, and she descended into the grave amidst curses
deeper than the acclamations which had welcomed her accession. In that
brief time she had swathed her name in the horrid epithet which will
cling to it for ever; and yet from the passions which in general tempt
sovereigns into crime, she was entirely free: to the tim