O VER the years I have written many short historical
studies in articles, lectures and reviews. Most of them
served an immediate purpose and are best left un-
resurrected; some were on themes that I have subsequently
traversed in my books. A few, however, escape these two vetoes
and I hope that I have not erred in deciding to make them avail-
able to a wider public.

I do not know how long a certain diffidence about reliving my
past would have delayed the appearance of this volume, had it
not been for the approach of a date which this country of ours
has good reason to salute. I refer to November 17th, 1958, the
fourth centenary of Queen Elizabeth I's accession to the throne:
a day now forgotten, but once celebrated by generations of
Englishmen. When I was young, I cherished the thought of one
day writing the posthumous history of Good Queen Bess, tracing
through the centuries a legend which became part of our folk-
lore and which is not yet dead, though much of its vitality has
ebbed away. Time and temperament have quietly disposed of
my youthful ambition, and in consequence the posthumous
history of Queen Elizabeth must remain a subject in search of
an author: a fascinating and far from insignificant subject.

Had I written my dream-book, a central thread, running
through most of the story, would have been that day, Novem-
ber 17th, whose fourth centenary this volume is meant to
commemorate. For Protestant Englishmen who saw the first
Elizabethan Accession Day, it had much of the quality of
Bastille Day for Frenchmen or November 7th for present-day
Russians. It was a Thursday, and they called the day before,
when rumour spread that Mary Tudor was dying, Hope
Wednesday. As its first and later anniversaries came round,
many minds must have recalled the event and hearts warmed in

-95-