Such were the cautious stipulations of this treaty, which had more the aspect of a treaty for defence against an enemy than a marriage contract. The instrument was worded with a care that reflected credit on the sagacity of its framers. All was done that parchment could do to secure the independence of the crown, as well as the liberties of the people. "But if the bond be violated," asked one of the parliamentary speakers on the occasion, "who is there to sue the bond?" Every reflecting Englishman must have felt the inefficacy of any guaranty that could be extorted from Philip, who, once united to Mary, would find little difficulty in persuading a fond and obedient wife to sanction his own policy, prejudicial though it might be to the true interests of the kingdom.
No sooner was the marriage treaty made public, than the popular discontent, before partially disclosed, showed itself openly throughout the country. Placards were put up, lampoons were written, reviling the queen's ministers and ridiculing the Spaniards; ominous voices were heard from old, dilapidated buildings, boding the ruin of the monarchy. Even the children became infected with the passions of their fathers. Games were played in which the English were represented contending with the Spaniards; and in one of these an unlucky urchin, who played the part of Philip, narrowly escaped with his life from the hands of his exasperated comrades.[83]
But something more serious than child's play showed itself, in three several insurrections which broke out in different quarters of the kingdom. The most formidable of them was the one led by Sir Thomas Wyatt, son of the celebrated poet of that name. It soon gathered head, and the number of the insurgents was greatly augmented by the accession of a considerable body of the royal forces, who deserted their colours, and joined the very men against whom they had been sent. Thus strengthened, Wyatt marched on London. All there were filled with consternation,--all but their intrepid queen, who showed as much self-possession and indifference to danger as if it were only an ordinary riot.
Proceeding at once into the city, she met the people at Guildhall, and made them a spirited address, which has been preserved in the pages of Holinshed. It concludes in the following bold strain, containing an allusion to the cause of the difficulties:--"And certainly, if I did either know or think that this marriage should either turn to the danger or loss of any of you, my loving subjects, or to the detriment or impairing of any part or parcel of the royal estate of this realm of England, I would never consent thereunto, neither would I ever marry while I lived. And on the word of a queen, I promise and assure you, that, if it shall not probably appear before the nobility and commons, in the high court of parliament, that this marriage shall be for the singular benefit and commodity of all the whole realm, that then I will abstain, not only from this marriage, but also from any other whereof peril may ensue to this most noble realm. Wherefore now as good and faithful subjects pluck up your hearts, and like true men stand fast with your lawful prince against these rebels, both our enemies and yours, and fear them not; for I assure you that I fear them nothing at all!"[84] The courageous spirit of their queen communicated itself to her audience, and in a few hours twenty thousand citizens enrolled themselves under the royal banner.