CHAPTER XXV.

1595 to 1598.

Essex and Cecil factious--Expedition to Cadiz.--Robert Cecil appointed

secretary.--Notice of sir T. Bodley.--Critical situation of

Essex.--Francis Bacon addresses to him a letter of advice--composes

speeches for him.--Notice of Toby Matthew.--Outrages in London repressed

by martial law.--Death of lord Hunsdon--of the earl of Huntingdon--of

bishop Fletcher.--Anecdote of bishop Vaughan.--Book on the queen's

touching for the evil.

From this period nearly of the reign of Elizabeth, her court exhibited a

scene of perpetual contest between the faction of the earl of Essex and

that of lord Burleigh, or rather of Robert Cecil; and so widely did the

effects of this intestine division extend, that there was perhaps

scarcely a single court-attendant or public functionary whose interests

did not become in some mode or other involved in the debate. Yet the

quarrel itself may justly be regarded as base and contemptible; no

public principle was here at stake; whether religious, as in the

struggles between papists and protestants which often rent the cabinet

of Henry VIII.; or civil, as in those of whigs and tories by which the

administrations of later times have been divided and overthrown. It was

simply and without disguise a strife between individuals, for the

exclusive possession of that political power and court influence of

which each might without disturbance have enjoyed a share capable of

contenting an ordinary ambition.

In religion there was apparently no shade of difference between the

hostile leaders; neither of them had studied with so little diligence

the inclinations of the queen as to persist at this time in the

patronage of the puritans, though the early impressions, certainly of

Essex and probably of sir Robert Cecil also, must have been considerably

in favor of this persecuted sect. Still less would either venture to

stand forth the advocate of the catholics; though it was among the most

daring and desperate of this body that Essex was compelled at length to

seek adherents, when the total ruin of his interest with his sovereign

fatally compelled him to exchange the character of head of a court party

for that of a conspirator and a rebel. Of the title of the king of Scots

both were steady supporters; and first Essex and afterwards Cecil

maintained a secret correspondence with James, who flattered each in his

turn with assurances of present friendship and future favor.

On one public question alone of any considerable magnitude do the rivals

appear to have been at issue;--that of the prosecution of an offensive

war against Spain.

The age and the wisdom of lord Burleigh alike inclined him to a pacific

policy; and though Robert Cecil, for the purpose of strengthening

himself and weakening his opponent, would frequently act the patron

towards particular officers,--those especially of whom he observed the

earl to entertain a jealousy,--it is certain that warlike ardor made no

part of his natural composition. Essex on the contrary was all on fire

for military glory; and at this time he was urging the queen with

unceasing importunities to make a fresh attack upon her capital enemy in

the heart of his European dominions. In this favorite object, after

encountering considerable opposition from her habits of procrastination

and from some remaining fears and scruples, he succeeded; and the zeal

of the people hastening to give full effect to the designs of her

majesty, a formidable armament was fitted out in all diligence, which in

June 1596 set sail for Cadiz.

Lord Howard of Effingham, as lord admiral, commanded the fleet; Essex

himself received with transport the appointment of general of all the

land-forces, and spared neither pains nor cost in his preparations for

the enterprise. Besides his constant eagerness for action, his spirit

was on this occasion inflamed by an indignation against the tyrant

Philip, "which rose," according to the happy expression of one of his

biographers, "to the dignity of a personal aversion[118]." In his

letters he was wont to employ the expression, "I will make that proud

king know" &c.: a phrase, it seems, which gave high offence to

Elizabeth, who could not tolerate what she regarded as arrogance against

a crowned head, though her bitterest foe.

[Note 118: See A Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors, by lord

Orford.]

Subordinate commands were given to lord Thomas Howard, second son of the

late duke of Norfolk, who was at this time inclined to the party of

Essex; to Raleigh, who now affected an extraordinary deference for the

earl, his secret enemy and rival; to that very able officer sir Francis

Vere of the family of the earls of Oxford, who had highly distinguished

himself during several years in the wars of the Low Countries; to sir

George Carew, an intimate friend of sir Robert Cecil; and to some

others, who formed together a council of war.

The queen herself composed on this occasion a prayer for the use of the

fleet, and she sent to her land and her sea commander jointly "a letter

of license to depart; besides comfortable encouragement." "But ours in

particular," adds a follower of Essex, "had one fraught with all kind of

promises and loving offers, as the like, since he was a favorite, he

never had."

Enterprise was certainly not the characteristic of the lord admiral as a

commander; and when on the arrival of the armament off Cadiz, it was

proposed that an attack should be made by the fleet on the ships in the

harbour, he remonstrated against the rashness of such an attempt, and

prevailed on several members of the council of war to concur in his

objections. In the end, however, the arguments or importunities of the

more daring party prevailed; and Essex threw his hat into the sea in a

wild transport of joy on learning that the admiral consented to make the

attack. He was now acquainted by the admiral with the queen's secret

order, dictated by her tender care for the safety of her young

favorite,--that he should by no means be allowed to lead the

assault;--and he promised an exact obedience to the mortifying

prohibition. But, once in presence of the enemy, his impetuosity would

brook no control. He broke from the station of inglorious security which

had been assigned him, and rushed into the heat of the action.

The Spanish fleet was speedily driven up the harbour, under the guns of

the fort of Puntal, where the admiral's ship and another first-rate were

set on fire by their own crews, and the rest run aground. Of these, two

fine ships fell into the hands of the English; and the lord admiral

having refused to accept of any ransom for the remainder, saying that he

came to consume and not to compound, they were all, to the number of

fifty, burned by the Spanish admiral.

Meantime, Essex landed his men and marched them to the assault of Cadiz.

The town was on this side well fortified, and the defenders, having also

the advantage of the ground, received the invaders so warmly that they

were on the point of being repulsed from the gate against which they had

directed their attack: but Essex, just at the critical moment, rushed

forward, seized his own colors and threw them over the wall; "giving

withal a most hot assault unto the gate, where, to save the honor of

their ensign, happy was he that could first leap down from the wall and

with shot and sword make way through the thickest press of the enemy."

The town being thus stormed, was of course given up to plunder; but

Essex, whose humanity was not less conspicuous than his courage, put an

immediate stop to the carnage by a vigorous exertion of his authority;

protected in person the women, children, and religious, whom he caused

to retire to a place of safety; caused the prisoners to be treated with

the utmost tenderness; and allowed all the citizens to withdraw, on

payment of a ransom, before the place with its fortifications was

committed to the flames. It was indeed the wish and intention of Essex

to have kept possession of Cadiz; which he confidently engaged to the

council of war to hold out against the Spaniards, with a force of no

more than three or four thousand men, till succours could be sent from

England; and with this view he had in the first instance sedulously

preserved the buildings from all injury. But among his brother officers

few were found prepared to second his zeal: the expedition was in great

measure an adventure undertaken at the expense of private persons, who

engaged in it with the hope of gain rather than glory; and as these men

probably attributed the success which had hitherto crowned their arms in

great measure to the surprise of the Spaniards, they were unwilling to

risk in a more deliberate contest the rich rewards of valor of which

they had possessed themselves.

The subsequent proposals of Essex for the annoyance of the enemy, either

by an attack on Corunna, or on St. Sebastian and St. Andero, or by

sailing to the Azores in quest of the homeward-bound carracks, all

experienced the same mortifying negative from the members of the council

of war, of whom lord Thomas Howard alone supported his opinions. But

undeterred by this systematic opposition, he persevered in urging, that

more might and more ought to be performed by so considerable an

armament; and the lord admiral, weary of contesting the matter, sailed

away at length and left him on the Spanish coast with the few ships and

the handful of men which still adhered to him. Want of provisions

compelled him in a short time to abandon an enterprise now desperate;

and he returned full of indignation to England, where fresh struggles

and new mortifications awaited him. The appointment during his absence

of Robert Cecil to the office of secretary of state, instead of Thomas

Bodley, afterwards the founder of the library which preserves his

name,--for whom, since he had found the restoration of Davison hopeless,

Essex had been straining every nerve to procure it,--gave him ample

warning of all the counteraction on other points which he was doomed to

experience; and was in fact the circumstance which finally established

the ascendency of his adversaries: yet to an impartial eye many

considerations may appear to have entirely justified on the part of the

queen this preference. Where, it might be asked, could a fitter

successor be found to lord Burleigh in the post which he had so long

filled to the satisfaction of his sovereign and the benefit of his

country, than in the son who certainly inherited all his

ability;--though not, as was afterwards seen, his principles or his

virtues;--and who had been trained to business as the assistant of his

father and under his immediate inspection? Why should the earl of Essex

interfere with an order of things so natural? On what pretext should the

queen be induced to disappoint the hopes of her old and faithful

servant, and to cast a stigma upon a young man of the most promising

talents, who was unwearied in his efforts to establish himself in her

favor?

By the queen and the people, Essex, their common favorite, was welcomed,

on his safe return from an expedition to himself so glorious, with every

demonstration of joy and affection, and no one appeared to sympathize

more cordially than her majesty in his indignation that nothing had been

attempted against the Spanish treasure-ships. On the other hand, no

pains were spared by his adversaries to lessen in public estimation the

glory of his exploits, by ascribing to the naval commanders a principal

share in the success at Cadiz, which he accounted all his own. An

anonymous narrative of the expedition which he had prepared, was

suppressed by means of a general prohibition to the printers of

publishing any thing whatsoever relating to that business; and no other

resource was left him than the imperfect one of dispersing copies in

manuscript. It was suggested to the queen by some about her, that though

the treasure-ships had escaped her, she might at least reimburse herself

for the expenses incurred out of the rich spoils taken at Cadiz; and no

sooner had this project gained possession of her mind than she began to

quarrel with Essex for his lavish distribution of prize-money. She

insisted that the commanders should resign to her a large share of their

gains; and she had even the meanness to cause the private soldiers and

sailors to be searched before they quitted the ships, that the value of

the money or other booty of which they had possessed themselves might be

deducted from their pay. Her first feelings of displeasure and

disappointment over, the rank and reputation of the officers concerned,

and especially the brilliancy of the actual success, were allowed to

cover all faults. The influence of her kinsman the lord admiral over the

mind of the queen was one which daily increased in strength with her

advance in age,--according to a common remark respecting family

attachments; and it will appear that he finally triumphed so completely

over the accusations of his youthful adversary, as to ground on this

very expedition his claim of advancement to a higher title.

It was the darling hope of Essex that he might be authorized to lead

without delay his flourishing and victorious army to the recovery of

Calais, now held by a Spanish garrison; and he took some secret steps

with the French ambassador in order to procure a request to this effect

from Henry IV. to Elizabeth. But this king absolutely refused to allow

the town to be recaptured by his ally, on the required condition of her

retaining it at the peace as an ancient possession of the English crown;

the Cecil party also opposed the design; and the disappointed general

saw himself compelled to pause in the career of glory.

It was not in the disposition of Essex to support these mortifications

with the calmness which policy appeared to dictate; and Francis Bacon,

alarmed at the courses which he saw the earl pursuing, and already

foreboding his eventual loss of the queen's favor, and the ruin of

those, himself included, who had placed their dependence on him,

addressed to him a very remarkable letter of caution and remonstrance,

not less characteristic of his own peculiar mind than illustrative of

the critical situation of him to whom it was written.

After appealing to the earl himself for the advantage which he had

lately received by following his own well-meant advice, in renewing with

the queen "a treaty of obsequious kindness," which "did much attemper a

cold malignant humor then growing upon her majesty towards him," he

repeats his counsel that he should "win the queen;" adding, "if this be

not the beginning of any other course, I see no end. And I will not now

speak of favor or affection, but of other correspondence and

agreeableness, which, when it shall be conjoined with the other of

affection, I durst wager my life... that in you she will come to

question of _Quid fiet homini quem rex vult honorare?_ But how is it

now? A man of a nature not to be ruled; that hath the advantage of my

affection and knoweth it; of an estate not grounded to his greatness; of

a popular reputation; of a military dependence. I demand whether there

can be a more dangerous image than this represented to any monarch

living, much more to a lady, and of her majesty's apprehension? And is

it not more evident than demonstration itself, that whilst this

impression continueth in her majesty's breast, you can find no other

condition than inventions to keep your estate bare and low; crossing and

disgracing your actions; extenuating and blasting of your merit;

carping with contempt at your nature and fashions; breeding, nourishing

and fortifying such instruments as are most factious against you;

repulses and scorns of your friends and dependents that are true and

steadfast; winning and inveigling away from you such as are flexible and

wavering; thrusting you into odious employments and offices to supplant

your reputation; abusing you and feeding you with dalliances and

demonstrations to divert you from descending into the serious

consideration of your own case; yea and percase venturing you in

perilous and desperate enterprises?"

With his usual exactness of method, he then proceeds to offer remedies

for the five grounds of offence to her majesty here pointed out; amongst

which the following are the most observable. That he ought to ascribe

any former and irrevocable instance of an ungovernable humor in him to

dissatisfaction, and not to his natural temper:--That though he sought

to shun, and in some respects rightly, any imitation of Hatton or

Leicester, he should yet allege them on occasion to the queen as authors

and patterns, because there was no readier means to make her think him

in the right course:--That when his lordship happened in speeches _to do

her majesty right_, "for there is no such matter as flattery amongst you

all," he had rather the air of paying fine compliments than of speaking

what he really thought; "so that," adds he, "a man may read your

formality in your countenance," whereas "it ought to be done familiarly

and with an air of earnest."

That he should never be without some particulars on foot which he

should seem to pursue with earnestness and affection, and then let them

fall upon taking knowledge of her majesty's opposition and dislike. Of

which kind the weightiest might be, if he offered to labor, in the

behalf of some whom he favored, for some of the places then void,

choosing such a subject as he thought her majesty likely to oppose.... A

less weighty sort of particulars might be the pretence of some journeys,

which at her majesty's request his lordship might relinquish; as if he

should pretend a journey to see his estate towards Wales, or the

like.... And the lightest sort of particulars, which yet were not to be

neglected, were in his habits, apparel, wearings, gestures, and the

like."

With respect to a "military dependence," which the writer regards as the

most injurious impression respecting him of all, he declares that he

could not enough wonder that his lordship should say the wars were his

occupation, and go on in that course. He greatly rejoiced indeed, now it

was over, in his expedition to Cadiz, on account of the large share of

honor which he had acquired, and which would place him for many years

beyond the reach of military competition. Besides that the disposal of

places and other matters relating to the wars, would of themselves flow

in to him as he increased in other greatness, and preserve to him that

dependence entire. It was indeed a thing which, considering the times

and the necessity of the service, he ought above all to retain; but

while he kept it in substance, he should abolish it in shows to the

queen, who loved peace, and did not love cost. And on this account he

could not so well approve of his affecting the place of earl-marshal or

master of the ordnance, on account of their affinity to a military

greatness, and rather recommended to his seeking the peaceful,

profitable and courtly office of lord privy seal. In the same manner,

with respect to the reputation of popularity, which was a good thing in

itself, and one of the best flowers of his greatness both present and

future, the only way was to quench it _verbis, non rebus_; to take all

occasions to declaim against popularity and popular courses to the

queen, and to tax them in all others, yet for himself, to go on as

before in all his honorable commonwealth courses. "And therefore," says

he, "I will not advise to cure this by dealing in monopolies or any

oppressions."

The last and most curious article of all, respects his quality of a

favorite. As, separated from all the other matters it could not hurt,

so, joined with them, he observes that it made her majesty more fearful

and captious, as not knowing her own strength. For this, the only remedy

was to give place to any other favorite to whom he should find her

majesty incline, "so as the subject had no ill or dangerous aspect"

towards himself. "For otherwise," adds this politic adviser, "whoever

shall tell me that you may not have singular use of a favorite at your

devotion, I will say he understandeth not the queen's affection, nor

your lordship's condition."

These crafty counsels, which steadily pursued would have laid the army,

the court, and the people, and in effect the queen herself, at the feet

of a private nobleman, seem to have made considerable impression for

the time on the mind of Essex; though the impetuosity of his temper,

joined to a spirit of sincerity, honor and generosity, which not even

the pursuits of ambition and the occupations of a courtier could

entirely quench, soon caused him to break loose from their intolerable

restraint.

Francis Bacon, in furtherance of the plan which he had suggested to his

patron of appearing to sink all other characters in that of a devoted

servant of her majesty, likewise condescended to employ his genius upon

a device which was exhibited by the earl on the ensuing anniversary of

her accession, with great applause.

First, his page, entering the tilt-yard, accosted her majesty in a fit

speech, and she in return graciously pulled off her glove and gave it to

him. Some time after appeared the earl himself, who was met by an

ancient hermit, a secretary of state, and a soldier; each of whom

presented him with a book recommending his own course of life, and,

after a little pageantry and dumb show to relieve the solemnity of the

main design, pronounced a long and well-penned speech to the same

effect. All were answered by an esquire, or follower of the earl, who

pointed out the evils attached to each pursuit, and concluded, says our

reporter, "with an excellent but too plain English, that this knight

would never forsake his mistress' love, whose virtue made all his

thoughts divine, whose wisdom taught him all true policy, whose beauty

and worth made him at all times fit to command armies. He showed all

the defects and imperfections of their times, and therefore thought his

own course of life to be best in serving his mistress.... The queen said

that if she had thought there had been so much said of her, she would

not have been there that night; and so went to bed." These speeches may

still be read, with mingled admiration and regret, amongst the immortal

works of Francis Bacon. In majesty of diction and splendor of allusion

they are excelled by none of his more celebrated pieces; and with such a

weight of meaning are they fraught, that they who were ignorant of the

serious purpose which he had in view might wonder at the prodigality of

the author in employing massy gold and real gems on an occasion which

deserved nothing better than tinsel and false brilliants. That full

justice might be done to the eloquence of the composition, the favorite

part of the esquire was supported by Toby Matthew, whose father was

afterwards archbishop of York; a man of a singular and wayward

disposition, whose prospects in life were totally destroyed by his

subsequent conversion to popery; but whose talents and learning were

held in such esteem by Bacon, that he eagerly engaged his pen in the

task of translating into Latin some of the most important of his own

philosophical works. Such were the "wits, besides his own," of which the

munificent patronage of Essex had given him "the command!"

A few miscellaneous occurrences of the years 1595 and 1596 remain to be

noticed.

The size of London, notwithstanding many proclamations and acts of

parliament prohibiting the erection of any new buildings except on the

site of old ones, had greatly increased during the reign of Elizabeth;

and one of the first effects of its rapid growth was to render its

streets less orderly and peaceful. The small houses newly erected in the

suburbs being crowded with poor, assembled from all quarters, thefts

became frequent; and a bad harvest having plunged the lower classes into

deeper distress, tumults and outrages ensued. In June 1595 great

disorders were committed on Tower-hill; and the multitude having

insulted the lord mayor who went out to quell them, Elizabeth took the

violent and arbitrary step of causing martial law to be proclaimed in

her capital. Sir Thomas Wilford, appointed provost-marshal for the

occasion, paraded the streets daily with a body of armed men ready to

hang all rioters in the most summary manner; and five of these offenders

suffered for high treason on Tower-hill, without resistance on the part

of the people, or remonstrance on that of the parliament, against so

flagrant a violation of the dearest rights of Englishmen.

Lord Hunsdon, the nearest kinsman of the queen, whose character has been

already touched upon, died in 1596. It is related that Elizabeth, on

hearing of his illness, finally resolved to confer upon him the title of

earl of Wiltshire, to which he had some claim as nephew and heir male to

sir Thomas Boleyn, her majesty's grandfather, who had borne that

dignity. She accordingly made him a gracious visit, and caused the

patent and the robes of an earl to be brought and laid upon his bed; but

the old man, preserving to the last the blunt honesty of his character,

declared, that if her majesty had accounted him unworthy of that honor

while living, he accounted himself unworthy of it now that he was dying;

and with this refusal be expired. Lord Willoughby succeeded him in the

office of governor of Berwick, and lord Cobham, a wealthy but

insignificant person of the party opposed to Essex, in that of lord

chamberlain.

Henry third earl of Huntingdon of the family of Hastings died about the

same time. By his mother, eldest daughter and coheiress of Henry Pole

lord Montacute, he was the representative of the Clarence branch of the

family of Plantagenet; but no pretensions of his had ever awakened

anxiety in the house of Tudor. He was a person of mild disposition,

greatly attached to the puritan party, which, bound together by a secret

compact, now formed a church within the church; he is said to have

impaired his fortune by his bounty to the more zealous preachers; and be

largely contributed by his will to the endowment of Emanuel college, the

puritanical character of which was now well known.

Richard Fletcher bishop of London, "a comely and courtly prelate," who

departed this life in the same year, affords a subject for a few

remarks. It was a practice of the more powerful courtiers of that day,

when the lands of a vacant see had excited, as they seldom failed to do,

their cupidity, to "find out some men that had great minds and small

means or merits, that would be glad to leave a small deanery to make a

poor bishopric, by new leasing lands that were almost out of

lease[119];" and on these terms, which more conscientious churchmen

disdained, Fletcher had taken the bishopric of Oxford, and had in due

time been rewarded for his compliance by translation first to Worcester

and afterwards to London. His talents and deportment pleased the queen;

and it is mentioned, as an indication of her special favor, that she

once quarrelled with him for wearing too short a beard. But he

afterwards gave her more serious displeasure by taking a wife, a gay and

fair court lady of good quality; and he had scarcely pacified her

majesty by the propitiatory offering of a great entertainment at his

house in Chelsea, when he was carried off by a sudden death, ascribed by

his contemporaries to his immoderate use of the new luxury of smoking

tobacco. This prelate was the father of Fletcher the dramatic poet.

[Note 119: Harrington's Brief View.]

Bishop Vaughan succeeded him, of whom Harrington gives the following

trait: "He was an enemy to all supposed miracles, insomuch as one

arguing with him in the closet at Greenwich in defence of them, and

alleging the queen's healing of the evil for an instance, asking him

what he could say against it, he answered, that he was loth to answer

arguments taken from the topic-place of the cloth of estate; but if

they would urge him to answer, he said his opinion was, she did it by

virtue of some precious stone in possession of the crown of England that

had such a natural quality. But had queen Elizabeth been told that he

ascribed more virtue to her jewels (though she loved them well) than to

her person, she would never have made him bishop of Chester."

Of the justice of the last remark there can be little question. In this

reign, the royal pretension referred to, was asserted with unusual

earnestness, and for good reasons, as we learn from a different

authority. In 1597 a quarto book appeared, written in Latin and

dedicated to her majesty by one of her chaplains, which contained a

relation of the cures thus performed by her; in which it is related,

that a catholic having been so healed went away persuaded that the

pope's excommunication of her majesty was of no effect: "For if she had

not by right obtained the sceptre of the kingdom, and her throne

established by the authority and appointment of God, what she attempted

could not have succeeded. Because the rule is, that God is not any where

witness to a lie[120]." Such were the reasonings of that age.

[Note 120: Strype's Annals.]

It is probably to bishop Vaughan also that sir John Harrington refers in

the following article of his Brief Notes.

"One Sunday (April last) my lord of London preached to the queen's

majesty, and seemed to touch on the vanity of decking the body too

finely. Her majesty told the ladies, that if the bishop held more

discourse on such matters, she would fit him for heaven, but he should

walk thither without a staff, and leave his mantle behind him. Perchance

the bishop hath never sought her highness' wardrobe, or he would have

chosen another text[121]."

[Note 121: Nugae Antiquae.]

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