1599 TO 1603.
Irish affairs.--Essex appointed lord deputy.--His letter to the
queen.--Letter of Markham to Harrington.--Departure of Essex and
proceedings in Ireland.--His letter to the privy council,--conferences
with Tyrone,--unexpected arrival at court.--Behaviour of the
queen.--State of parties.--Letters of sir J. Harrington.--Further
particulars respecting Essex.--His letter of submission.--Relentlessness
of the queen.--Sir John Hayward's history.--Second letter of
Essex.--Censure passed upon him in council.--Anecdote of the
queen.--Essex liberated.--Reception of a Flemish ambassador.--Discontent
of Raleigh.--Traits of the queen.--Letter of sir Robert Sidney to sir
John Harrington.--Crisis of the fortune of Essex.--Conduct of lord
Montjoy.--Proceedings at Essex house.--Revolt of Essex.--He defends his
house.--Is taken and committed to the Tower.--His trial and that of lord
Southampton.--Conduct of Bacon.--Confessions of Essex.--Behavior of the
queen.--Death of Essex.--Fate of his adherents.--Reception of the
Scotch ambassadors.--Interview of the queen and Sully.--Irish
affairs.--Letter of sir John Harrington.--A parliament summoned.--Affair
of monopolies.--Quarrel between the Jesuits and secular
priests.--Conversation of the queen respecting Essex.--Letter of sir J.
Harrington.--Submission of Tyrone.--Melancholy of Elizabeth.--Story of
the ring.--Her death.--Additional traits of her character.--Her eulogy
by bishop Hall.
The death in September 1598 of Philip II., and the succession of the
feeble Philip III., under whom the Spanish monarchy advanced with
accelerated steps towards its decline, had finally released the queen
from all apprehensions of foreign invasion and left her at liberty to
turn her whole attention to the pacification of Ireland. The state of
that island was in every respect deplorable:--the whole province of
Ulster in open rebellion under Tyrone;--the rest of the country only
waiting for the succours from the pope and the king of Spain, which the
credulous natives were still taught to expect, to join openly in the
revolt; and in the meantime reduced to such a state of despair by
innumerable oppressions and by the rumor of further severities meditated
by the queen of England, that it seemed prepared to oppose the most
obstinate resistance to every measure of government. In what manner and
by whom, this wretched province should be brought back to its
allegiance, had been the subject of frequent and earnest debates in the
privy-council; in which Essex had vehemently reprobated the conduct of
former governors in wasting time on inferior objects, instead of first
undertaking the reduction of Tyrone, and appears to have spared no pains
to impress the queen with an opinion of the superior justness of his own
views of the subject. Elizabeth believed, and with reason, that she
discovered in lord Montjoy talents not unequal to the arduous office of
lord deputy at so critical a juncture; but when the greater part of her
council appeared to concur in the choice, Essex insinuated a variety of
objections;--that the experience of Montjoy in military matters was
small;--that neither in the Low Countries nor in Bretagne, where he had
served, had he attained to any principal or independent command;--that
his retainers were few or none; his purse inadequately furnished for the
first expenses of so high an appointment; and that he was too much
addicted to a sedentary and studious life. By this artful enumeration of
the deficiencies of Montjoy, he was clearly understood to intimate his
own superior fitness for the office. The queen, notwithstanding certain
suspicions which had been infused into her of danger in committing to
Essex the command of an army, and notwithstanding the unwillingness
which she still felt to deprive herself of his presence, appears to have
adopted with eagerness this suggestion of her favorite;--for she held in
high estimation both his talents and his good fortune. Montjoy promptly
retired from a competition in which he must be unsuccessful; the
adherents of the earl, except a few of the more sagacious, eagerly
forwarded his appointment with imprudent eulogiums of his valor and his
genius and still more imprudent anticipations of his certain and
complete success. His enemies, desirous of his absence and hopeful of
his failure, concurred with no less zeal in the promotion of his wishes;
and he soon found himself importuned on every side to accept the
command. But it now became his part to make objections;--perhaps he
began to open his eyes to the difficulties to be confronted in
Ireland;--perhaps he penetrated too late the designs and expectations of
his adversaries at home;--perhaps, for his character was not free from
artifice, he chose by a display of reluctance to enhance in the eyes of
his sovereign the merit of his final acquiescence. However this might
be, the difficulties which he raised kept the business for some time in
suspense. Secretary Cecil observed in a letter of December 4th, 1598,
that "the opinion of the earl's going to Ireland had some stop, by
reason of his lordship's indisposition to it, except with some such
conditions as were disagreeable to her majesty's mind;" "although," he
added, "the cup will hardly pass from him in regard of his worth and
fortune: but if it do, my lord Montjoy is named[130]."
[Note 130: Birch.]
It was in the midst of the debates and contentions on this matter that
Essex endeavoured to work upon the feelings of Elizabeth by the
following romantic but eloquent address.
* * * * *
"To the Queen.
"From a mind delighting in sorrow, from spirits wasted with passion,
from a heart torn in pieces with care grief and travel, from a man that
hateth himself and all things else that keep him alive, what service can
your majesty expect; since any service past deserves no more than
banishment and proscription to the cursedest of all islands? It is your
rebels' pride and succession must give me leave to ransom myself out of
this hateful prison, out of my loathed body; which, if it happeneth so,
your majesty shall have no cause to mislike the fashion of my death,
since the course of my life could never please you.
Happy could he finish forth his fate
In some unhaunted desert most obscure
From all society, from love and hate
Of worldly folk; then should he sleep secure.
Then wake again, and yield God ever praise,
Content with hips and haws and brambleberry;
In contemplation passing out his days,
And change of holy thoughts to make him merry.
Who when he dies, his tomb may be a bush,
Where harmless robin dwells with gentle thrush."
"Your majesty's exiled servant
"ROBERT ESSEX."
* * * * *
It seems also to have been at this juncture that on some public occasion
he bore a plain mourning shield, with the words, "_Par nulla figura
dolori_."
A very sensible and friendly letter addressed to Harrington by his
relation Robert Markham may serve to throw additional light on the
situation and sentiments of Essex, and on the state of court parties.
* * * * *
_Mr. Robert Markham to John Harrington Esquire._
"Notwithstanding the perilous state of our times, I shall not fail to
give you such intelligence and advices of our matters here as may tend
to your use and benefit. We have gotten good account of some matters,
and as I shall find some safe conduct for bearing them to you, it may
from time to time happen that I send tidings of our courtly concerns.
"Since your departure from hence, you have been spoken of, and with no
ill will, both by the nobles and the queen herself. Your book is almost
forgiven, and I may say forgotten; but not for its lack of wit or
satire. Those whom you feared most are now bosoming themselves in the
queen's grace; and though her highness signified displeasure in outward
sort, yet did she like the marrow of your book. Your great enemy, sir
James, did once mention the star-chamber, but your good esteem in better
minds outdid his endeavours, and all is silent again. The queen is
minded to take you to her favor, but she sweareth that she believes you
will make epigrams and write _misacmos_ again on her and all the court.
She hath been heard to say, 'that merry poet her godson, must not come
to Greenwich till he hath grown sober and leaveth the ladies' sports and
frolics.' She did conceive much disquiet on being told you had aimed a
shaft at Leicester; I wish you knew the author of that ill deed; I would
not be in his best jerkin for a thousand marks. You yet stand well in
her highness' love, and I hear you are to go to Ireland with the
lieutenant Essex; if so, mark my counsel in this matter. I doubt not
your valor nor your labor, but that d----e uncovered honesty will mar
your fortunes. Observe the man who commandeth, and yet is commanded
himself; he goeth not forth to serve the queen's realm, but to humor his
own revenge. Be heedful of your bearings, speak not your mind to all you
meet. I tell you I have ground for my caution: Essex hath enemies; he
hath friends too. Now there are two or three of Montjoy's kindred sent
out in your army; they are to report all your conduct to us at home. As
you love yourself, the queen and me, discover not these matters; if I
did not love you, they had never been told. High concerns deserve high
attention; you are to take account of all that passes in your
expedition, and keep journal thereof, unknown to any in the company;
this will be expected of you; I have reasons to give for this order.
"If the lord deputy performs in the field what he hath promised in the
council, all will be well; but though the queen hath granted forgiveness
for his late demeanour in her presence; we know not what to think
hereof. She hath, in all outward semblance, placed confidence in the man
who so lately sought other treatment at her hands; we do sometime think
one way, and sometime another; what betideth the lord deputy is known to
him only who knoweth all; but when a man hath so many showing friends,
and so many unshowing enemies, who learneth his end here below? I say,
do not you meddle in any sort, nor give your jesting too freely among
those you know not; obey the lord deputy in all things, but give not
your opinion; it may be heard in England. Though you obey, yet seem not
to advise in any one point; your obeysance may be, and must be,
construed well; but your counsel may be ill thought of if any bad
business follow.
"You have now a secret from one that wishes you all welfare and honor; I
know there are overlookers set on you all, so God direct your
discretion. Sir William Knolles is not well pleased, the queen is not
well pleased, the lord deputy may be pleased now, but I sore fear what
may happen hereafter. The heart of man lieth close hid oft time, men do
not carry it in their hand, nor should they do so that wish to thrive in
these times and in these places; I say this that your own honesty may
not show itself too much, and turn to your own ill favor. Stifle your
understanding as much as may be; mind your books and make your jests,
but take heed who they light on. My love hath overcome almost my
confidence and trust, which my truth and place demandeth. I have said
too much for one in my dependent occupation, and yet too little for a
friend and kinsman, who putteth himself to this hard trial for your
advantage. You have difficult matters to encounter beside Tyrone and the
rebels; there is little heed to be had to show of affection in state
business; I find this by those I discourse with daily, and those too of
the wiser sort. If my lord treasurer had lived longer, matters would go
on surer. He was our great pilot, on whom all cast their eyes, and
sought their safety. The queen's highness doth often speak of him in
tears, and turn aside when he is discoursed of; nay, even forbiddeth any
mention to be made of his name in the council. This I learn by some
friends who are in good liking with my lord Buckhurst[131].
[Note 131: Lord Buckhurst had succeeded to the office of lord
treasurer on the death of Burleigh.]
"My sister beareth this to you, but doth not know what it containeth,
nor would I disclose my dealings to any woman in this sort; for danger
goeth abroad, and silence is the safest armour." &c.[132]
[Note 132: Nugae Antiquae.]
* * * * *
Such were the bodings of distant evil with which the more discerning
contemplated the new and arduous enterprise in which the ambition of
Essex had engaged him! In the meantime, all things conspired to delude
him into a false security and to augment that presumption which formed
the most dangerous defect of his character. All the obstacles which had
delayed his appointment were gradually smoothed away; the queen
consented to invest him with powers far more ample than had ever been
conferred on a lord deputy before; all his requisitions of men and other
supplies were complied with; and an army of 20,000 foot and 1,300 horse,
afterwards increased to 2,000,--a far larger force than Ireland had yet
beheld,--was placed at his disposal.
At parting, the tenderness of the queen revived in full force; and she
dismissed him with expressions of regret and affection which, as he
afterwards professed to her, had "pierced his very soul." The people
followed him with acclamations and blessings; and the flower of the
nobility now, as in the Cadiz expedition, attended him with alacrity as
volunteers.
It was in the end of March 1599 that he embarked; and landing after a
dangerous passage at Dublin, his first act was the appointment of his
dear friend the earl of Southampton to the office of general of the
horse;--a step which he afterwards found abundant cause to repent.
An error of which the consequences were much more pernicious to himself,
and fatal to the success of his undertaking, was his abandoning his
original resolution of marching immediately against Tyrone, and
spending his first efforts in the suppression of a minor revolt in
Munster:--an attempt in which he encountered a resistance so much more
formidable than he had anticipated, and found himself so ill supported
by his troops, whom the nature of the service speedily disheartened,
that its results were by no means so brilliant as to strike terror into
Tyrone or the other insurgents. What was still worse, almost four months
were occupied in this service, and the forces returned sick, wearied,
and incredibly reduced in number by various accidents.
Learning that the queen was much displeased at this expedition into
Munster, Essex addressed a letter to the privy-council, in which, after
affirming that he had performed his part to the best of his abilities
and judgement, he thus proceeded: "But as I said, and ever must say, I
provided for this service a breastplate, and not a cuirass; that is, I
am armed on the breast, but not on the back. I armed myself with
confidence that rebels in so unjust a quarrel could not fight so well as
we could in a good. Howbeit if the rebels shall but once come to know
that I am wounded on the back, not slightly, but to the heart, as I fear
me they have too true and too apparent advertisement of this kind; then
what will be their pride and the state's hazard, your lordships in your
wisdoms may easily discern."
In a subsequent letter, the warmth of his friendship for Southampton
breaks out in the following eloquent and forcible appeal.--"But to leave
this, and come to that which I never looked I should have come to, I
mean your lordships' letter touching the displacing of the earl of
Southampton; your lordships say, that her majesty thinketh it strange,
and taketh it offensively, that I should appoint him general of the
horse, seeing not only her majesty denied it when I moved it, but gave
an express prohibition to any such choice. Surely, my lord, it shall be
far from me to contest with your lordships, much less with her majesty.
Howbeit, God and my own soul are my witnesses, that I had not in this
nomination any disobedient or irreverent thought; that I never moved her
majesty for the placing of any officer, my commission fully enabling me
to make free choice of all officers and commanders of the army. I
remember, that her majesty in her privy-chamber at Richmond, I only
being with her, showed a dislike of his having any office; but my answer
was, that if her majesty would revoke my commission, I would cast both
it and myself at her majesty's feet. But if it pleased her majesty that
I should execute it, I must work with my own instruments. And from this
profession and protestation I never varied; whereas if I had held myself
barred from giving my lord of Southampton place and reputation some way
answerable to his degree and expense, there is no one, I think, doth
imagine, that I loved him so ill as to have brought him over. Therefore
if her majesty punish me with her displeasure for this choice, _poena
dolenda venit_. And now, my lords, were now, as then it was, that I were
to choose, or were there nothing in a new choice but my lord of
Southampton's disgrace and my discomfort, I should easily be induced to
displace him, and to part with him. But when, in obeying this command, I
must discourage all my friends, who now, seeing the days of my suffering
draw near, follow me afar off, and are some of them tempted to renounce
me; when I must dismay the army, which already looks sadly, as pitying
both me and itself in this comfortless action; when I must encourage the
rebels, who doubtless will think it time to hew upon a withering tree,
whose leaves they see beaten down, and the branches in part cut off;
when I must disable myself for ever in the course of this service, the
world now perceiving that I want either reason to judge of merit, or
freedom to right it, disgraces being there heaped where, in my opinion,
rewards are due; give just grief leave once to complain. O! miserable
employment, and more miserable destiny of mine, that makes it impossible
for me to please and serve her majesty at once! Was it treason in my
lord of Southampton to marry my poor kinswoman, that neither long
imprisonment, nor any punishment besides that hath been usual in like
cases, can satisfy and appease? Or will no kind of punishment be fit for
him, but that which punisheth, not him, but me, this army, and this poor
country of Ireland? Shall I keep the country when the army breaks? Or
shall the army stand when all the volunteers leave it? Or will any
voluntaries stay when those that have will and cause to follow are thus
handled? No, my lords, they already ask passports, and that daily." &c.
In spite of all this earnestness, in spite of the remaining affection
of the queen for her favorite, she still persisted in requiring that he
should displace his friend, and even chid him severely for having waited
the result of his further representations and entreaties, after once
learning her pleasure on the point. Success in the main object of his
expedition might still have procured him a triumph over his
court-enemies and a sweet reconciliation with his offended sovereign,
but fortune had no such favor in store for Essex. The necessity of
quelling some rebels in Leinster again impeded his march into Ulster;
for which expedition he was obliged to solicit a further supply from
England of two thousand foot, which was immediately forwarded to him, as
if with the design of leaving him without excuse should he fail to
reduce Tyrone. But by this time the season was so far advanced, and the
army so sickly, that both the earl and the Irish council were of opinion
that nothing effectual could be done; and at the first notice of his
intended march great part of his forces deserted. He nevertheless
proceeded, and in a few days during which a little skirmishing took
place, came in sight of the rebel's main army, considerably more
numerous than his own; Tyrone however would not venture to give him
battle, but sent to request a parley. This, after some delay, the lord
deputy granted; and a conference was held between them, Essex standing
on the bank of a stream which separated the two hosts, while the rebel
sat on his horse in the middle of the water. A truce was concluded, to
be renewed from six weeks to six weeks, till terms of peace should be
agreed on; those proposed by Tyrone containing several arrogant and
unreasonable articles. At a second meeting with the Irish chief, Essex
was attended by some of his principal officers; but it was afterwards
proved that previously to the first conference, he had opened a very
unwarrantable correspondence with this enemy of his queen and country,
who took upon himself to promise that if Essex would come into his
measures he would make him the greatest man in England. During the whole
of this time, sharp letters were passing between Elizabeth and her
privy-council and the earl; and it is hard to say on which side the
heaviest list of grievances was produced. The queen remonstrated against
his contemptuous disobedience of her orders, and the waste in frivolous
enterprises of the vast supplies of men and money which she had
intrusted to her deputy for a specific and momentous object;--the earl,
in addition to his usual murmurings against the sinister suggestions of
his enemies, amongst whom he singled out by name Raleigh and lord
Cobham; found further grounds of complaint and alarm in the circumstance
of her majesty's having caused some troops to be called out under the
lord admiral, on pretext of fears from the Spaniard, but really with a
view of protecting her against certain designs imputed to himself: and
in her having granted to secretary Cecil during his absence the office
of master of the wards, for which he was himself a suitor.
Apprehensive lest by his longer delay her affections should be
irrecoverably alienated from him by the discovery of his traitorous
correspondence with Tyrone, he rashly resolved to risk yet another act
of disobedience;--that of deserting without license, and under its
present accumulated circumstances of danger, his important charge, and
hastening to throw himself at the feet of an exasperated, but he
flattered himself, not inexorable mistress. At one time he had even
entertained the desperate and criminal design of carrying over with him
a large part of his army, for the purpose of intimidating his
adversaries; but being diverted from this scheme by the earl of
Southampton and sir Christopher Blount his step-father, he embarked with
the attendance only of most of his household and a number of his
favorite officers, and arrived at the court, which was then at Nonsuch,
on Michaelmas eve in the morning.
On alighting at the gate, covered with mire and stained with travel as
he was, he hastened up stairs, passed through the presence and the
privy-chambers, and never stopped till he reached the queen's
bed-chamber, where he found her newly risen with her hair about her
face. He kneeled and kissed her hands, and she, in the agreeable
surprise of beholding at her feet one whom she still loved, received him
with so kind an aspect, and listened with such favor to his excuses,
that on leaving her, after a private conference of some duration, he
appeared in high spirits, and thanked God, that though he had suffered
many storms abroad, he found a sweet calm at home. He waited on her
again as soon as he had changed his dress; and after a second long and
gracious conference, was freely visited by all the lords, ladies, and
gentlemen at court, excepting the secretary and his party, who appeared
somewhat shy of him. But all these fair appearances quickly vanished. On
revisiting the queen in the evening, he found her much changed towards
him; she began to call him to account for his unauthorised return and
the hazard to which he had committed all things in Ireland; and four
privy-councillors were appointed by her to examine him that night and
hear his answers: but by them nothing was concluded, and the matter was
referred to a full council summoned for the following day, the earl
being in the meantime commanded to keep his chamber. Notwithstanding the
natural impetuosity of his temper, Essex now armed himself with patience
and moderation, and answered with great gravity and discretion to the
charges brought against him, which resolved themselves into the
following articles. "His contemptuous disobedience of her majesty's
letters and will in returning: his presumptuous letters written from
time to time: his proceedings in Ireland contrary to the points resolved
upon in England, ere he went: his rash manner of coming away from
Ireland: his overbold going the day before to her majesty's presence to
her bed-chamber: and his making of so many idle knights[133]." The
council, after hearing his defence, remained awhile in consultation and
then made their report to her majesty, who said she should take time to
consider of his answers: meanwhile the proceedings were kept very
private, and the earl continued a prisoner in his own apartment. An
open division now took place between the two great factions which had
long divided the court in secret. The earls of Shrewsbury and
Nottingham, lords Thomas Howard, Cobham, and Grey, sir Walter Raleigh,
and sir George Carew, attended on the secretary; while Essex was
followed by the earls of Worcester and Rutland, lords Montjoy, Rich,
Lumley, and Henry Howard; the last of whom however was already suspected
to be the traitor which he afterwards proved to the patron whom he
professed to love, to honor, and almost to worship. Sir William Knolles
also joined the party of his nephew, with many other knights and
gentlemen, and lord Effingham, though son to the earl of Nottingham, was
often with him, and "protested all service" to him. "It is a world to be
here," adds Whyte, "and see the humors of the place." On October the
second, Essex was "commanded from court," and committed to the lord
keeper, with whom he remained at York house. At his departure from court
few or none of his friends accompanied him.
[Note 133: Rowland Whyte in Sidney Papers.]
"His lordship's sudden return out of Ireland," says Whyte, "brings all
sorts of knights, captains, officers, and soldiers, away from thence,
that this town is full of them, to the great discontentment of her
majesty, that they are suffered to leave their charge. But the most part
of the gallants have quitted their commands, places, and companies, not
willing to stay there after him; so that the disorder seems to be
greater there than stands with the safety of that service." Harrington
the wit and poet had the misfortune to be one of the threescore "idle
knights," dubbed by the lord deputy during his short and inglorious
reign, and likewise one of the officers whom he selected to accompany
him in his return; and we may learn from two of his own letters, written
several years subsequently, after what manner he was welcomed on his
arrival by his royal godmother.
* * * * *
"_Sir John Harrington to Dr. Still, the bishop of Bath and Wells._ 1603.
"My worthy lord,
"I have lived to see that d----e rebel Tyrone brought to England,
courteously favored, honored, and well-liked. O! my lord, what is there
which doth not prove the inconstancy of worldly matters! How did I labor
after that knave's destruction! I was called from my home by her
majesty's command, adventured perils by sea and land; endured toil, was
near starving, ate horse-flesh at Munster; and all to quell that man,
who now smileth in peace at those that did hazard their lives to destroy
him. Essex took me to Ireland, I had scant time to put on my boots; I
followed with good will, and did return with the lord-lieutenant to meet
ill-will; I did bear the frowns of her that sent me; and were it not for
her good liking, rather than my good deservings, I had been sore
discountenanced indeed. I obeyed in going with the earl to Ireland, and
I obeyed in coming with him to England. But what did I encounter
thereon? Not his wrath, but my gracious sovereign's ill humor. What did
I advantage? Why truly a knighthood; which had been better bestowed by
her that sent me, and better spared by him that gave it. I shall never
put out of memory her majesty's displeasure; I entered her chamber, but
she frowned and said. 'What, did the fool bring you too? Go back to your
business.' In sooth these words did sore hurt him that never heard such
before; but Heaven gave me more comfort in a day or two after. Her
majesty did please to ask me concerning our northern journeys, and I did
so well quit me of the account, that she favoured me with such discourse
that the earl himself had been well glad of. And now doth Tyrone dare us
old commanders with his presence and protection." &c.[134]
[Note 134: Nugae.]
* * * * *
"_Sir John Harrington to Mr. Robert Markham_, 1606.
"My good cousin,
"Herewith you will have my journal, with our history during our march
against the Irish rebels. I did not intend any eyes should have seen
this discourse but my own children's; yet alas! it happened otherwise;
for the queen did so ask, and I may say, demand my account, that I could
not withhold showing it; and I, even now, almost tremble to rehearse her
highness' displeasure hereat. She swore by God's son, we were all idle
knaves, and the lord deputy worse, for wasting our time and her commands
in such-wise as my journal doth write of.
"I could have told her highness of such difficulties, straits, and
annoyance, as did not appear therein to her eyes, nor, I found, could be
brought to her ear; for her choler did outrun all reason, though I did
meet it at a second hand. For what show she gave at first to my lord
deputy at his return, was far more grievous, as will appear in good
time.
"I marvel to think what strange humors do conspire to patch up the
natures of some minds. The elements do seem to strive which shall
conquer and rise above the other. In good sooth our late queen did
infold them all together. I bless her memory for all her goodness to me
and my family; and now will I show you what strange temperament she did
sometimes put forth. Her mind was oftimes like the gentle air that
cometh from the westerly point in a summer's morn; 'twas sweet and
refreshing to all around her. Her speech did win all affections, and her
subjects did try to show all love to her commands; for she would say,
her state did require her to command what she knew her people would
willingly do from their own love to her. Herein did she show her wisdom
fully; for who did choose to lose her confidence; or who would withhold
a show of love and obedience, when their sovereign said it was their own
choice, and not her compulsion? Surely she did play well her tables to
gain obedience thus without constraint; again could she put forth such
alterations, when obedience was lacking, as left no doubtings whose
daughter she was. I say this was plain on the lord deputy's coming home,
when I did come into her presence. She chafed much, walked fastly to and
fro, looked with discomposure in her visage; and I remember, she
catched my girdle when I kneeled to her, and swore, 'By God's son I am
no queen, that _man_ is above me;--who gave him command to come here so
soon? I did send him on other business.' It was long before more
gracious discourse did fall to my hearing; but I was then put out of my
trouble, and bid go home. I did not stay to be bidden twice; if all the
Irish rebels had been at my heels, I should not have made better speed,
for I did now flee from one whom I both loved and feared too[135]."
[Note 135: Nugae.]
* * * * *
The fate of Essex remained long in suspense; while several little
circumstances seemed to indicate the strength of her majesty's
resentment against him; especially her denying, to the personal request
of lady Walsingham, permission for the earl to write to his countess,
her daughter, who was in childbed and exceedingly troubled that she
neither saw nor heard from her husband; and afterwards her refusing to
allow his family physician access to him, though he was now so ill as to
be attended by several other physicians, with whom however Dr. Brown was
permitted to consult. At the same time it was given out, that if he
would beg his liberty for the purpose of going back to Ireland, it would
be granted him;--but he appeared resolute never to return thither, and
professed a determination of leading henceforth a retired life in the
country, free from all participation in public affairs.
Pamphlets were written on his case, but immediately suppressed by
authority, and perhaps at the request of the earl himself, whose
behaviour at this time exhibited nothing but duty and submission. His
sister lady Rich, and lady Southampton, quitted Essex house and went
into the country, because the resort of company to them had given
offence. He himself neither saw nor desired to see any one. His very
servants were afraid to meet in any place to make merry lest it might be
ill taken. "At the court," says Whyte, "lady Scrope is only noted to
stand firm to him, for she endures much at her majesty's hands because
she daily does all kind offices of love to the queen in his behalf. She
wears all black; she mourns and is pensive, and joys in nothing but in a
solitary being alone. And 'tis thought she says much that few would
venture to say but herself." This generous woman was daughter to the
first lord Hunsdon, and nearly related both to the queen and to Essex.
She was sister to the countess of Nottingham who is believed to have
acted so opposite a part.
About the middle of October strong hopes were entertained of the earls
enlargement; but it was said that "he stood to have his liberty by the
like warrant he was committed." The secretary was pleased to express to
him the satisfaction that he felt in seeing her majesty so well appeased
by his demeanor, and his own wish to promote his good and contentment.
The reasons which he had assigned for his conduct in Ireland appeared to
have satisfied the privy-council and mollified the queen. But her
majesty characteristically declared, that she would not bear the blame
of his imprisonment; and before she and her council could settle amongst
them on whom it should be made to rest, a new cause of exasperation
arose. Tyrone, in a letter to Essex which was intercepted, declared that
he found it impossible to prevail on his confederates to observe the
conditions of truce agreed upon between them; and the queen, relapsing
into anger, triumphantly asked if there did not now appear good cause
for the earl's committal? She immediately made known to lord Montjoy her
wish that he should undertake the government of Ireland; but the
friendship of this nobleman to Essex, joined with a hope that the queen
might be induced to liberate him by a necessity of again employing his
talents in that country, induced Montjoy to excuse himself. The council
unanimously recommended to her majesty the enlargement of the prisoner;
but she angrily replied, that such contempts as he had been guilty of
ought to be openly punished. They answered, that by her sovereign power
and the rigor of law, such punishment might indeed be inflicted, but
that it would be inconsistent with her clemency and her honor; she
however caused heads of accusation to be drawn up against him. All this
time Essex continued very sick; and his high spirit condescended to
supplications like the following.
* * * * *
"When the creature entereth into account with the Creator, it can never
number in how many things it needs mercy, or in how many it receives it.
But he that is best stored, must still say _da nobis hodie_; and he that
hath showed most thankfulness, must ask again, _Quid retribuamus_? And
I can no sooner finish this my first audit, most dear and most admired
sovereign, but I come to consider how large a measure of his grace, and
how great a resemblance of his power, God hath given you upon earth; and
how many ways he giveth occasion to you to exercise these divine offices
upon us, that are your vassals. This confession best fitteth me of all
men; and this confession is most joyfully and most humbly now made by me
of all times. I acknowledge upon the knees of my heart your majesty's
infinite goodness in granting my humble petition. God, who seeth all, is
witness, how faithfully I do vow to dedicate the rest of my life, next
after my highest duty, in obedience faith and zeal to your majesty,
without admitting any other worldly care; and whatsoever your majesty
resolveth to do with me, I shall live and die
"Your majesty's humblest vassal,
"ESSEX."
* * * * *
The earl abased himself in vain; those courtiers who had formerly
witnessed her majesty's tenderness and indulgence towards him, now
wondered at the violence of her resentment; and somewhat of mystery
still involves the motives of her conduct. At one time she deferred his
liberation "because she heard that some of his friends and followers
should say he was wrongfully imprisoned:" and the French ambassador who
spoke for him, found her very short and bitter on that point. Soon
after, however, on hearing that he continued very sick and was making
his will, she was surprised into some signs of pity, and gave orders
that a few of his friends should be admitted to visit him, and that he
should be allowed the liberty of the garden. Alarmed at these
relentings, Raleigh, to whose nature the basest court arts were not
repugnant, thought proper to fall sick in his turn, and was healed in
like manner by a gracious message from the queen. The countess of Essex
was indefatigable in her applications to persons in power, but with
little avail; all that was gained for the dejected prisoner was effected
by the intercession of some of the queen's favorite ladies, who obtained
leave for his two sisters to come to court and solicit for him. Soon
after, the storm seemed to gather strength again;--a warrant was made
out for the earl's committal to the Tower, and though it was not carried
into force, "the hopes of liberty grew cold." About the middle of
November lord Montjoy received orders to prepare for Ireland.
The appearance of the first part of a history in Latin of the life and
reign of Henry IV. by sir John Hayward, dedicated to the earl of Essex,
was the unfortunate occasion of fresh offence to the queen; the subject,
as containing the deposition of a lawful prince, was in itself
unpalatable; but what gave the work in her jealous eyes a peculiar and
sinister meaning was an expression addressed to the earl which may be
thus rendered: "You are great both in present judgement and future
expectation."
Hayward was detained a considerable time in prison; and the queen, from
an idle suspicion that the piece was in fact the production of some more
dangerous character, declared that she would have him racked to
discover the secret. "Nay, Madam," answered Francis Bacon, "he is a
Doctor; never rack his person, but rack his style. Let him have pen, ink
and paper, and help of books, and be enjoined to continue the story
where it breaketh off; and I will undertake, by collating the styles, to
judge whether he were the author or no." And thus her mind was diverted
from this atrocious purpose!
Measures had now been carried too far against the earl to admit of his
speedy restoration to favor, whatever might be the secret sentiments of
her majesty in his behalf; and her conduct respecting him preserved a
vacillating and undecided character which marks the miserable perplexity
of her mind, no longer enlightened by the clear and dispassionate
judgement of Burleigh.
On one occasion she spoke of the earl with such favor as greatly
troubled the opposite party. Soon after, on his sending to her his
patents of master of the horse and master of the ordnance, she
immediately returned them to him; and at the same time his lady had
leave to visit him. Two days after, the queen ordered a consultation of
eight physicians upon his case, who gave little hope of his life, but
earnestly recommended that his mind should be quieted; on which, unable
longer to conceal her feelings, she sent Dr. James to him with some
broth and the message, that he should comfort himself, and that if she
might consistently with her honor she would visit him; and it was noted
that she had tears in her eyes as she spoke. But it was soon after
hinted to her, that though divines watched by the bed of the earl and
publicly prayed for him in their pulpits, some of them "with speeches
tending to sedition," his life was in no real danger. On this, she
refused his sisters, his son, and his mother-in-law permission to visit
him, and ceased to make inquiries after his health, which was in no long
time restored. A rich new year's gift, which was sent "as it were in a
cloud no man knew how," but thought to come from the earl, was left for
some time in the hands of sir William Knolles, as neither accepted nor
refused, but finally rejected with disdain on some new accession of
anger. Yet the letters of lady Rich in his behalf were read, and her
many presents received, as well as one from the countess of Leicester.
Lady Essex was now restrained for a time from making her daily visits to
her husband, and the queen declared her intention of bringing him before
the Star-chamber; but on his writing a very submissive letter, which was
delivered by the secretary, the design was dropped; and the secretary,
who had been earnest in his intercession with her majesty to spare this
infliction, gained in consequence much credit with the public. About the
middle of March the earl was suffered to remove, under the
superintendance of a keeper, to his own house; for which he returned
thanks to her majesty in very grateful terms, saying that "this further
degree of her goodness sounded in his ears as if she had said, 'Die not,
Essex; for though I punish thine offence, and humble thee for thy good,
yet will I one day be served again by thee.' And my prostrate soul," he
adds, "makes this answer, 'I hope for that blessed day.'" Two months
afterwards, however, perceiving no immediate prospect of his return to
favor or to liberty, he addressed her in a more expostulating style,
thus:
* * * * *
"Before all letters written with this hand be banished, or he that sends
this enjoin himself eternal silence, be pleased, I humbly beseech your
majesty, to read over these few lines. At sundry times and by several
messengers, I received these words as your majesty's own; that you meant
to correct, but not to ruin. Since which time, when I languished in four
months sickness; forfeited almost all that I was able to engage; felt
the very pangs of death upon me; and saw that poor reputation,
whatsoever it was, that I had hitherto enjoyed, not suffered to die with
me, but buried and I alive; I yet kissed your majesty's fair correcting
hand, and was confident in your royal words. For I said unto myself,
Between my ruin and my sovereign's favor there is no mean: and if she
bestow favor again, she gives with it all things that in this world I
either need or desire. But now, the length of troubles, and the
continuance, or rather the increase, of your majesty's indignation, hath
made all men so afraid of me, as mine own state is not only ruined, but
my kind friends and faithful servants are like to die in prison because
I cannot help myself with mine own. Now I do not only feel the
intolerable weight of your majesty's indignation, and am subject to
their wicked information that first envied me for my happiness in your
favor and now hate me out of custom; but, as if I were thrown into a
corner like a dead carcase, I am gnawed on and torn by the vilest and
basest creatures upon earth. The tavern-haunter speaks of me what he
lists. Already they print me and make me speak to the world, and shortly
they will play me in what forms they list upon the stage. The least of
these is a thousand times worse than death. But this is not the worst of
my destiny; for your majesty, that hath mercy for all the world but me,
that hath protected from scorn and infamy all to whom you once vowed
favor but Essex, and never repented you of any gracious assurance you
had given till now; your majesty, I say, hath now, in this eighth month
of my close imprisonment (as if you thought my infirmities, beggary and
infamy, too little punishment for me), rejected my letters, refused to
hear of me, which to traitors you never did. What therefore remaineth
for me? Only this, to beseech your majesty on the knees of my heart, to
conclude my punishment, my misery and my life together; that I may go to
my Saviour, who hath paid himself a ransom for me, and whom, methinks, I
still hear calling me out of this unkind world, in which I have lived
too long, and once thought myself too happy.
"From your majesty's humblest servant,
"ESSEX."
* * * * *
At length, the queen prepared to make an end of this lingering business;
the earl's entreaties that it might not be made a Star-chamber matter
were listened to, and eighteen commissioners were selected out of the
privy-council, to discuss his conduct, hear his accusation and defence,
and finally pronounce upon him such a _censure_, for it was not to be
called a _sentence_, as they should see fit. The crown lawyers,--amongst
whom Francis Bacon chose to take his place, though the queen had offered
to excuse his attendance on account of the ties of gratitude which ought
to have attached him to Essex,--spoke one after another in aggravation
of his offence; and some of them, as the attorney-general (Coke), with
great virulence of language. Next came the prisoner's defence, which he
pronounced kneeling;--an attitude in which he was suffered to remain
during a great part of the proceedings. He began with a humble avowal of
his errors, and many expressions of penitence and humility towards her
majesty; a temperate apology for particular parts of his conduct,
followed; but as he was proceeding to reflect in some points on the
conduct of the Irish council, and to refute the exaggerated charges of
his enemies, he was interrupted by the lord keeper, who reminded him
that this was not a course likely to do him good. The earl explained
that he had no wish but to clear himself of disloyalty; it was answered,
that with this he never had been charged. The pathetic eloquence of the
noble prisoner moved many of the council to tears, and was not without
its effect on his enemies themselves. The secretary, who was the first
to rise in reply, even in refuting a part of his excuses, did him
justice in other points, and treated him on the whole with great
courtesy. Finally, it was the unanimous censure of the council, that
the earl should abstain from exercising the functions of
privy-councillor, earl marshal, or master of the ordnance; that he
should return to his own house, and there remain a prisoner as before,
till it should please her majesty to remit both this and all the other
parts of the sentence.
By this solemn hearing the mind of the queen was much tranquillized;
because her grave councillors and learned judges in their speeches,
"amplifying her majesty's clemency and the earl's offences, according to
the manner in the Star-chamber," had held him worthy of much more
punishment than he had yet received. A few days after her majesty
repaired to lady Russel's house in Blackfriars to grace the nuptials of
her daughter, a maid of honor, with lord Herbert, son of the earl of
Worcester;--on which occasion it may be mentioned, that she was conveyed
from the water-side in a _lectica_, or half-litter, borne by six
knights. After dining with the wedding company, she passed to the
neighbouring house of lord Cobham to sup. Here she was entertained with
a mask of eight ladies, who, after performing their appointed part,
chose out eight ladies more to dance the measure, when Mrs. Fitton the
principal masker came and "wooed" the queen also to dance. Her majesty
inquired who she was? "Affection," she replied. "_Affection_," said the
queen, "_is false_;" yet she rose and danced.
Elizabeth was now possessed with a strange fancy of _unmaking_ the
knights made by Essex; being flattered in this folly by Bacon, who
assured her, certainly in contradiction to all the laws of chivalry,
that her general had no right to confer that degree after a prohibition
laid upon him by her majesty. She was resolved to command at least that
no ancient gentleman should give place to these new knights; and she had
actually signed the warrant for a proclamation to this effect, when the
timely interference of the secretary saved her from thus exposing
herself.
Late in August 1600, the earl was acquainted in form by the
privy-council that his liberty was restored, but that he was still
prohibited from appearing at court. He answered, that it was his design
to lead a retired life at his uncle's in Oxfordshire, yet he begged
their intercession that he might be admitted to kiss the queen's hand
before his departure. But this was still too great a favor to be
accorded, and he was informed, that though free from restraint, he was
still to regard himself as under indignation; a distinction which served
to deter all but his nearest relations from resorting to him.
In the spring of this year, Vereiken, an ambassador from Flanders, was
very honorably received by the queen, whose counsels had assumed a more
pacific aspect since the disgrace of Essex.
Whyte informs us, with his usual minuteness, that the ambassador was
lodged with alderman Baning in Dowgate; and that he was fetched to court
in great state, the whole household being drawn up in the hall; the
great ladies and fair maids appearing "excellently brave" in the rooms
through which he passed; and the queen, very richly dressed and
surrounded by her council, extending to him a most gracious reception.
He solemnly congratulated himself on the happiness of beholding her
majesty, "who for _beauty_ and wisdom did excel all other princes of the
earth;" and she, in requital, promised to consider of his proposals. The
negotiation proved in the end abortive; but great offence was taken at
the publication in this juncture of a letter by the earl of Essex
against a peace with Spain.
Raleigh was at this time leaving London in discontent because nothing
was done for him;--it does not appear what was now the particular object
of his solicitation; but a writer has recorded it as an instance of the
prudent reserve of Elizabeth in the advancement of her courtiers, that
she would never admit the eloquent and ambitious Raleigh to a seat at
her council-board[136].
[Note 136: Bohun's Memoirs.]
In the midst of her extreme anxiety for the fate of Ireland,--where
Tyrone for the present carried all things at his will, boasting himself
the champion of the Romish cause, and proclaiming his expectation of
Spanish aid; and of her more intimate and home-felt uneasiness
respecting the effect of her measures of chastisement on the haughty
mind of Essex,--we find Elizabeth promoting with some affectation the
amusements of her court. "This day," says Whyte, "she appoints to see a
Frenchman do feats upon a cord in the conduit court. Tomorrow she hath
commanded the bears, the bull and the ape to be baited in the
tilt-yard; upon Wednesday she will have solemn dancing."
A letter from sir Robert Sidney to sir John Harrington, written some
time in this year, affords some not uninteresting traits of her
behaviour, mixed with other matters:
* * * * *
"Worthy knight;
"Your present to the queen was well accepted of; she did much commend
your verse, nor did she less praise your prose.... The queen hath tasted
your dainties, and saith you have marvellous skill in cooking of good
fruits. If I can serve you in your northern suit, you may command me....
Our lawyers say, your title is well grounded in conscience, but that
strict law doth not countenance your recovering those lands of your
ancestors.... Visit your friends often, and please the queen by all you
can, _for all the great lawyers do much fear her displeasure_.... I do
see the queen often, she doth wax weak since the late troubles, and
Burleigh's death doth often draw tears from her goodly cheeks; she
walketh out but little, meditates much alone, and sometimes writes in
private to her best friends. The Scottish matters do cause much
discourse, but we know not the true grounds of state business, nor
venture further on such ticklish points[137]. Her highness hath done
honor to my poor house by visiting me, and seemed much pleased at what
we did to please her. My son made her a fair speech, to which she did
give most gracious reply. The women did dance before her, whilst the
cornets did salute from the gallery; and she did vouchsafe to eat two
morsels of rich comfit cake, and drank a small cordial out of a golden
cup. She had a marvellous suit of velvet, borne by four of her first
women-attendants in rich apparel; two ushers did go before; and at going
up stairs she called for a staff, and was much wearied in walking about
the house, and said she wished to come another day. Six drums and six
trumpets waited in the court, and sounded at her approach and departure.
My wife did bear herself in wonderous good liking, and was attired in a
purple kirtle fringed with gold; and myself in a rich band and collar of
needlework, and did wear a goodly stuff of the bravest cut and fashion,
with an under body of silver and loops. The queen was much in
commendation of our appearances, and smiled at the ladies who in their
dances often came up to the step on which the seat was fixed to make
their obeisance, and so fell back into their order again. The younger
Markham did several gallant feats on a horse before the gate, leaping
down and kissing his sword, then mounting swiftly on the saddle, and
passing a lance with much skill. The day well nigh spent, the queen went
and tasted a small beverage that was set out in divers rooms where she
might pass, and then in much order was attended to her palace; the
cornets and trumpets sounding through the streets." &c.
[Note 137: The mysterious affair of the Gowrie conspiracy is
probably here alluded to.]
* * * * *
The fate of Essex was now drawing to a crisis. The mixture of severity
and indulgence with which he had been treated;--her majesty's
perseverance in refusing to readmit him to her presence, though all
other liberty was restored to him;--her repeated assurances that she
meant only to chastise, not to ruin him, contrasted with the tedious
duration of her anger and the utter uncertainty when, or by what means,
it was to be brought to an end;--had long detained him in the mazes of a
tormenting uncertainty: but he at length saw the moment when her
disposition towards him must be brought to a test which he secretly
assured his adherents that he should regard as decisive.
The term for which the earl had held the lucrative farm of sweet wines
would expire at Michaelmas; he was soliciting its renewal; and on the
doubtful balance of success or failure his already wavering loyalty was
suspended. He spared on this occasion no expressions of humility and
contrition which might soften the heart of the queen:--He professed to
kiss the hand and the rod with which he had been corrected; to look
forward to the beholding again those blessed eyes, so long his Cynosure,
as the only real happiness which he could ever enjoy; and he declared
his intention with Nebuchodonosor, to make his habitation with the
beasts of the field, to eat hay like an ox, and to be wet with the dews
of heaven, until it should please the queen to restore him. To lord
Henry Howard, who was the bearer of these dutiful phrases, Elizabeth
expressed her unfeigned satisfaction to find him in so proper a frame of
mind; she only wished, she said, that his deeds might answer to his
words; and as he had long tried her patience, it was fit that she
should make some experiment of his humility. Her father would never have
endured such perversity:--but she would not now look back:--All that
glittered was not gold, but if such results came forth from her furnace,
she should ever after think the better of her chemistry. Soon after,
having detected the motive of immediate interest which had inspired such
moving expressions of penitence and devotion, her disgust against Essex
was renewed; and in the end, she not only rejected his suit, but added
the insulting words, that an ungovernable beast must be stinted of his
provender, in order to bring him under management.
The spirit of Essex could endure no more;--rage took possession of his
soul; and equally desperate in fortune and in mind, he prepared to throw
himself into any enterprise which the rashness of the worst advisers
could suggest. It was at this time that he is reported, in speaking of
the queen, to have used the expression, maliciously repeated to her by
certain court ladies,--that through old age her mind was become as
crooked as her carcase:--words which might have sufficed to plunge him
at once from the height of favor into irretrievable ruin.
The doors of Essex-house, hitherto closed night and day since the
disgrace of the earl, were now thrown popularly open. Sir Gilly Merrick,
his steward, kept an open table for all military adventurers, men of
broken fortunes and malcontents of every party. Sermons were delivered
there daily by the most zealous and popular of the puritan divines, to
which the citizens ran in crowds; and lady Rich, who had lately been
placed under restraint by the queen and was still in deep disgrace, on
account of her intermeddling in the affairs of her brother, and on the
further ground of her scandalous intrigue with lord Montjoy, became a
daily visitant. The earl himself, listening again to the suggestions of
his secretary Cuff, whom he had once dismissed on account of his violent
and dangerous character, began to meditate new counsels.
An eye-witness has thus impressively described the struggles of his mind
at this juncture. "It resteth with me in opinion, that ambition thwarted
in its career doth speedily lead on to madness: herein I am strengthened
by what I learn in my lord of Essex, who shifteth from sorrow and
repentance to rage and rebellion so suddenly as well proveth him devoid
of good reason or right mind; in my last discourse he littered such
strange words, bordering on such strange designs, that made me hasten
forth, and leave his presence. Thank heaven I am safe at home, and if I
go in such troubles again, I deserve the gallows for a meddling fool.
His speeches of the queen becometh no man who hath _mens sana in corpore
sano_. He hath ill advisers, and much evil hath sprung from this source.
"The queen well knoweth how to humble the haughty spirit, the haughty
spirit knoweth not how to yield, and the man's soul seemeth tossed to
and fro like the waves of a troubled sea[138]."
[Note 138: Sir John Harrington in Nugae.]
The affinity of Essex to the crown by his descent from Thomas of
Woodstock has been already adverted to;--it seems never to have awakened
the slightest jealousy in the mind of Elizabeth; but the absurd vaunts
of some of his followers, commented upon by the malicious ingenuity of
his enemies, had sufficed to excite sinister suspicions in the bosom of
the king of Scots. For the purpose of counteracting these, lord Montjoy,
near the beginning of the earl's captivity, had sent Henry Leigh into
Scotland, to give the king assurance that Essex entertained none of the
ambitious views which had been imputed to him, but was, on the contrary,
firmly resolved to endure no succession but that of his majesty; further
hinting at some steps for causing his right to be recognised in the
lifetime of the queen. From this time a friendly correspondence had been
maintained between James and the Essex party; and Montjoy, on being
appointed lord deputy of Ireland, had gone so far as to offer to the
king to bring over to England such part of his army as, acting in
concert with the force that the earl would be able to raise, might
compass by force the object which they had in view. By some delay in the
return of the messenger, added to the dilatoriness or reluctance of
James, this plan was frustrated; but some time after Essex, impatient
alike of the disgrace and the inactivity of his present restraint, urged
Montjoy to bring over his forces without waiting for the tardy
co-operation of the king of Scots. The lord deputy replied, "that he
thought it more lawful to enter into such a course with one that had
interest in the succession than otherwise; and though he had been led
before out of the opinion he had to do his country good by the
establishment of the succession, and to deliver my lord of Essex out of
the danger he was in; yet now his life appeared to be safe, to restore
his fortune only, and to save himself from the danger which hangs over
him by discovery, and to satisfy my lord of Essex's private ambition, he
would not enter into any enterprise of that" kind[139].
[Note 139: Confession of sir Charles Davers, in Birch's Memoirs.]
After this repulse, Essex as a last resource applied himself once more
to the court of Scotland, and, with the disingenuousness inseparable
from the conduct of political intrigue, exerted all his efforts to
deceive James into a belief that the party now in power were pensioners
of Spain, hired to the support of the pretended title of the Infanta. He
further alarmed the king by representing that the places most proper for
the reception of Spanish forces were all in the hands of the creatures
of Cecil;--Raleigh being governor of Jersey, lord Cobham warden of the
Cinque Ports, lord Burleigh president of the North, and sir George Carew
president of Munster. In consequence, he urged James to lose no time in
claiming by his ambassadors a solemn acknowledgement of his title. These
suggestions were listened to; and Essex was animated to proceed in his
perilous career by hopes of the speedy arrival of the Scottish embassy.
In the meantime he formed a council of five of the friends most devoted
to his cause:--the earl of Southampton, sir Charles Davers, sir
Ferdinando Gorges, sir John Davis surveyor of the ordnance, and John
Littleton esquire of Frankley. By this junto, which met privately at
Drury-house, the plot was matured. The earl delivered in a list of one
hundred and twenty nobles, knights and gentlemen, on whose attachment he
thought he could rely: it was agreed that an attempt should be made to
seize the palace, and to persuade or compel the queen to remove from her
councils the enemies of the earl, and to summon a new parliament; and
their respective parts were allotted to the intended actors in this
scene of violence.
Meantime the extraordinary concourse to Essex-house had fixed the
attention of government, and measures were taken for obtaining
intelligence of all that passed within its walls. Lord Henry Howard, who
had made a timely secession from the leader to whom, in terms of the
grossest adulation, he had professed everlasting and unlimited
attachment, is believed to have discovered some of his secrets; and a
domestic educated with the earl from childhood, and entirely trusted by
him, had also the baseness to reveal his counsels. On the 7th of
February 1601, the privy-council, being fully informed of his
proceedings, dispatched secretary Herbert to summon the earl to appear
before them. But apprehensive that he was betrayed, and conscious that
the steps which he had already taken were incapable of being justified,
the earl excused himself from attending the council, and summoning
around him the most confidential of his friends, he represented to them
that they were on the point of being committed to prison, and bade them
decide whether they would quietly submit themselves to the disposal of
their enemies, or attempt thus prematurely to carry into effect the
designs which they had meditated.
During the debate which ensued, a person entered who pretended to be
deputed by the people of London to assure the earl of their cordial
co-operation in his cause. This decided the question; Essex, with a more
cheerful countenance, began to expatiate on the affection borne him by
the city, and his expectation of being joined by sheriff Smith with a
thousand of the trained bands whom he commanded. The following morning
was fixed for the insurrection; and in the meantime emissaries were
dispatched, who ran about the town in all directions, to spread among
the friends of the earl the alarm of a design upon his life by Cobham
and Raleigh.
Early on the morrow the lord keeper, the lord chief justice, and sir W.
Knolles comptroller of the household, arrived at Essex-house and
demanded entrance on the part of the queen. They themselves were with
difficulty admitted through the wicket of the gate, which was now kept
shut and guarded; but all their servants, except the purse-bearer, were
excluded. They beheld the court-yard filled with a confused multitude,
in the midst of which stood Essex accompanied by the earls of
Southampton and Rutland and many others. The lord keeper demanded in the
name of her majesty the cause of this unusual concourse; adding an
assurance that if any had injured his lordship, he should find redress.
Essex in a vehement manner complained of letters counterfeited in his
name,--of designs against his life,--of perfidious dealings towards him:
but the conference was interrupted by the clamors of the crowd, some of
whom threatened violence against the court-emissaries. Without further
parley the earl conducted them into the house, where he ordered them to
be safely kept as hostages till his return from the city, whither he was
hastening to take measures with the lord-mayor and sheriffs.
About ten o'clock he entered the city attended by the "chief gallants"
of the time; as the earls of Southampton and Rutland, lords Sandys and
Monteagle, sir Charles Davers, sir Christopher Blount, and many others.
As they passed Fleet-street, they cried, "For the queen, for the queen!"
in other places they gave out that Cobham and Raleigh would have
murdered the earl in his bed; and the multitude, universally well
affected to Essex, eagerly reported that he and the queen were
reconciled, and that she had appointed him to ride in that triumphant
manner through the city to his house in Seething-lane. The lord-mayor
however received warning from the privy-council to look well to his
charge, and by eleven the gates were closed and strongly guarded. The
earl, though a good deal disconcerted at observing no preparations for
joining him, made his way to the house of sheriff Smith; but this
officer slipped out at his back door and hastened to the lord-mayor for
instructions. He next proceeded to an armourer's and demanded
ammunition, which was refused; and while he was hastening to and fro,
without aim or object as appears, lord Burleigh courageously entered
the city with a king-at-arms and half a score horse-men, and in two
places proclaimed the earl and all his adherents traitors. A pistol was
fired at him by one of the followers of Essex; but the multitude showed
no disposition to molest him, and he hastened back to assure the queen
that a popular commotion was not at all to be apprehended.
The palace was now fortified and double-guarded; the streets were
blocked up with carts and coaches; and the earl, after wandering in vain
about the town till two o'clock, finding himself joined by none of the
citizens and deserted by a great portion of his original followers,
determined to make his way back to Essex-house. At Ludgate he was
opposed by some troops posted there by order of the bishop; and drawing
his sword, he directed sir Christopher Blount to attack them; "which he
did with great bravery, and killed Waite, a stout officer, who had been
formerly hired by the earl of Leicester to assassinate sir Christopher,
and was now abandoned by his company[140]." In the end, however, the
earl was repulsed with the loss of one young gentleman killed and sir
Christopher Blount wounded and taken prisoner; and retreating with his
diminished band to the river side, he returned by water to his own
house.
[Note 140: Birch's Memoirs.]
He was much disappointed to find that his three prisoners had been
liberated in his absence by sir Ferdinando Gorges: but sanguine to the
last in his hopes of an insurrection of the citizens in his favor, he
proceeded to fortify his house in the best manner that circumstances
would admit.
It was soon invested by a considerable force under the lord admiral, the
earls of Cumberland and Lincoln, and other commanders. Sir Robert Sidney
was ordered to summon the little garrison to surrender, when the earl of
Southampton demanded terms and hostages; but being answered that none
would be granted to rebels, except that the ladies within the house and
their women would be permitted to depart if they desired it, the
defenders declared their resolution to hold out, and the assault
continued.
Lord Sandys, the oldest man in the party, encouraged the earl in the
resolution which he once appeared to have adopted, of cutting a way
through the assailants; observing, that the boldest courses were the
safest, and that at all events it was more honorable for men of quality
to die sword in hand than by the axe of the executioner:--but Essex, who
had not yet resigned the flattering hopes of life, was easily moved by
the tears and cries of the surrounding females to yield to less
courageous, not more prudent, counsels. Captain Owen Salisbury, a brave
veteran, seeing that all was lost, planted himself at a window
bare-headed, for the purpose of being slain: on receiving from one of
the assailants a bullet on the side of his head, "O!" cried he, "that
thou hadst been so much my friend to have shot but a little lower!" Of
this wound however he expired the next morning.
About six in the evening the earl made known his willingness to
surrender, on receiving assurance, for himself and his friends, of civil
treatment and a legal trial; and permission for a clergyman named Aston
to attend him in prison:--the lord admiral answered that of the two
first articles there could be no doubt, and for the last he would
intercede. The house was then yielded with all that were in it. During
that night the principal offenders were lodged in Lambeth-palace, the
next day they were conveyed to the Tower; while the common prisons
received the accomplices of meaner rank.
On February 19th Essex and Southampton were brought to their trial
before the house of peers; lord Buckhurst sitting as lord high steward.
Essex inquired whether peers might not be challenged like common
jurymen, but was answered in the negative. He pleaded Not guilty;
professed his unspotted loyalty to his queen and country, and earnestly
labored to give to his attempt to raise the city the color of a
necessary act of self-defence against the machinations of enemies from
whom his life was in danger. Had this interpretation of his conduct been
admitted, possibly his offence might not have come within the limits of
treason: but it was held, that his refusal to attend the council; the
imprisonment of the three great officers sent to him by the queen; and
above all the consultations held at Drury-house for bringing soldiers
from Ireland, for surprising the Tower, for seizing the palace, and for
compelling the queen to remove certain persons from her counsels and to
call a parliament, assigned to his overt acts the character of designs
against the state itself. For the confessions of his accomplices, by
which the secrets of the Drury-house meetings were brought to light, he
was evidently unprepared; and the native violence of his temper broke
out in invectives against those associates by whom, as he falsely
pretended, all these criminal designs had been originally suggested to
his mind. This evidence, he said, had been elicited by the hope of
pardon and reward;--let those who had given it enjoy their lives with
impunity;--to him death was far more welcome than life. Whatever
interpretation lawyers might put upon it, the necessity of self-defence
against Cobham, Raleigh and Cecil, had impelled him to raise the city;
and he was consoled by the testimony of a spotless conscience. Lord
Cobham here rose, and protested that he had never acted with malice
against the earl, although he had disapproved of his ambition. "On my
faith," replied the earl, "I would have given this right hand to have
removed from the queen such an informer and calumniator."
He afterwards proceeded to accuse sir Robert Cecil of having affirmed
that the title of the Infanta was equally well founded with that of any
other claimant. But the secretary here stepped forward to entreat that,
the prisoner might be obliged to bring proof of his assertions; and it
thus became manifest, and in the end was confessed with contrition by
the earl himself, that he had advanced this charge on false grounds.
It was with better reason that he reproached Francis Bacon, who then
stood against him as queen's counsel, with the glaring inconsistency
between his past professions and his present conduct. This cowardly
desertion of his generous and affectionate friend and patron,--or rather
this open revolt from him, this shameless attack upon him in the hour of
his extreme distress and total ruin,--forms indeed the foulest of the
many blots which stain the memory of this illustrious person: it may
even be pronounced, on a deliberate survey of all its circumstances, the
basest and most profligate act of that reign, which yet affords
examples, in the conduct of its public men, of almost every species of
profligacy and baseness. That it continued to be matter of general
reproach against him, clearly appears from the long and labored apology
which Bacon thought it necessary, several years afterwards, to address
to lord Montjoy, then earl of Devon;--an apology which extenuates in no
degree the turpitude of the fact; but which may be consulted for a
number of highly curious, if authentic, particulars.
The earl of Southampton likewise pleaded Not guilty, and professed his
inviolate fidelity towards her majesty: he excused whatever criminality
he might have fallen into by the warmth of his attachment for Essex, and
behaved throughout with a mildness and an ingenuous modesty which moved
all hearts in his favor. After a trial of eleven hours, sentence of
Guilty was unanimously pronounced on both the prisoners. Southampton in
an affecting manner implored all present to intercede for him with her
majesty, and Essex, with great earnestness, joined in this petition of
his unfortunate friend: as to himself, he said, he was not anxious for
life; wishing for nothing more than to lay it down with entire fidelity
towards God and his prince.--Yet he would have no one insinuate to the
queen that he despised her mercy, though he believed he should not too
submissively implore it; and he hoped all men would in their consciences
acquit him, though the law had pronounced him guilty. Such was the lofty
tone of self-justification assumed by Essex on this memorable occasion,
when his pride was roused and his temper exasperated, by the open war of
recrimination and reproaches into which he had so unadvisedly plunged
with his personal enemies; and by the cruel and insolent invectives of
the crown lawyers. But he was soon to undergo on this point a most
remarkable and total change.
The mind of the earl of Essex was deeply imbued with sentiments of
religion: from early youth he had conversed much with divines of the
stricter class, whom he held in habitual reverence; and conscious in the
conduct of his past life of many deviations from the Gospel rule of
right, he now, in the immediate prospect of its violent termination,
surrendered himself into the hands of these spiritual guides with
extraordinary humility and implicit submission. To the criminality of
his late attempt, his conscience was not however awakened; he seems to
have believed, that in contriving the fall of his enemies, he was at the
same time deserving the thanks of his country, oppressed by their
maladministration; and he repelled all the efforts of Dr. Dove, by whom
he was first visited, to inspire him with a different sense of this part
of his conduct. Cut his favorite divine, Mr. Aston,--who is described
by a contemporary as "a man base, fearful and mercenary," in whom the
earl was much deceived,--practised with more success upon his mind. By
an artful pretext of believing him to have aimed at the crown, he first
drew him into a warm defence of his conduct on this point; then by
degrees into a confession of all that he had really plotted, and the
concurrence which he had found from others. This was the end aimed at by
Aston, or by the government which employed him: he professed that he
could not reconcile it to his conscience to conceal treasons so foul and
dangerous; alarmed the earl with all the terrors of religion; and
finally persuaded him, that a full discovery of his accomplices was the
only atonement which he could make to heaven and earth. The humbled
Essex was brought to entreat that several privy-councillors, of whom
Cecil by name was one, should be sent to hear his confessions; and so
strangely scrupulous did he show himself to leave nothing untold, that
he gave up even the letters of the king of Scots, and betrayed every
private friend whom attachment to himself had ever seduced into an
acquiescence in his designs, or a nice sense of honor withheld from
betraying them.
Sir Henry Nevil, for having only concealed projects in which he had
absolutely refused to concur, was thus exposed to the loss of his
appointment of ambassador to France; to imprisonment, and to a long
persecution;--and lord Montjoy might have suffered even capitally, had
not his good and acceptable service in Ireland induced the queen to wink
at former offences. Cuff, the secretary of the earl, whom he sent for
to exhort him to imitate his sincerity, sternly upbraided his master
with his altered mind, and his treachery towards those who had evinced
the strongest attachment to his service: but the earl remained unmoved
by his reproaches, and calmly prepared for death in the full persuasion
that he had now worked out his own salvation.
Elizabeth had behaved on occasion of the late insurrection with all her
wonted fortitude; even at the time when Essex was actually in the city
and a false report was brought her of its revolt to him, "she was never
more amazed," says Cecil in a letter to sir George Carew, "than she
would have been to have heard of a fray in Fleet-street." But when, in
the further progress of the affair, she beheld her once loved Essex
brought to the bar for high-treason and condemned by the unanimous
verdict of his peers; when it rested solely with herself to take the
forfeit of his life or interfere by an act of special grace for his
preservation,--her grief, her agitation and her perplexity became
extreme. A sense of the many fine qualities and rare endowments of her
kinsman,--his courage, his eloquence, his generosity, and the
affectionate zeal with which he had served her:--indulgence for the
youthful impetuosity which had carried him out of the path of duty, not
unmixed with compunction for that severe and contemptuous treatment by
which she had exasperated to rebellion the spirit which mildness might
have softened into penitence and submission;--above all, the remaining
affection which still lurked at the bottom of her heart, pleaded for
mercy with a force scarcely to be withstood. On the other hand, the
ingratitude, the neglect, the insolence with which he had occasionally
treated her, and the magnitude of his offences, which daily grew upon
her by his own confessions and those of his accomplices, fatally united
to confirm the natural bias of her mind towards severity.
At this juncture Thomas Leigh, one of the dark and desperate characters
whose service Essex had used in his criminal negotiations with Tyrone,
by an atrocious plot for entering the palace, seizing the person of the
queen and compelling her to sign a warrant for the release of the two
earls, renewed her fears and gave fresh force to her anger. Irresolute
for some days, she once countermanded by a special messenger the order
for the death of Essex; then, as repenting of her weakness, she signed a
second warrant, in obedience to which he was finally, on February 25th,
brought to the scaffold.
The last scene was performed in a manner correspondent in all respects
to the contrite and humiliated frame of mind to which the noble culprit
had been wrought. It was no longer the brave, the gallant, the haughty
earl of Essex, the favorite of the queen, the admiration of the ladies,
the darling of the soldiery, the idol of the people;--no longer even the
undaunted prisoner, pouring forth invectives against his enemies in
answer to the charges against himself; loudly persisting in the
innocence of his intentions, instead of imploring mercy for his actions,
and defending his honor while he asserted a lofty indifference to
life;--it was a meek and penitent offender, profoundly sensible of all
his past transgressions, but taught to expect their remission in the
world to which he was hastening, through the fervency of his prayers and
the plenitude of his confessions; and prepared, as his latest act, to
perform in public a solemn religious service, composed for his use by
the assistant clergy, whose directions he obeyed with the most
scrupulous minuteness. Under a change so entire, even his native
eloquence had forsaken him. Sir Robert Cecil, who seems to have been a
cool and critical spectator of the fatal scene, remarks to his
correspondent that "the conflict between the flesh and the soul did thus
far appear, that in his prayers he was fain to be helped; otherwise no
man living could pray more christianly than he did."
Essex had requested of the queen that he might be put to death in a
private manner within the walls of the Tower, fearing, as he told the
divines who attended him, that "the acclamations of the citizens should
have hoven him up." His desire in this point was willingly complied
with; but about a hundred nobles, knights and gentlemen witnessed the
transaction from seats placed near the scaffold. Sir Walter Raleigh
chose to station himself at a window of the armory whence he could see
all without being observed by the earl. This action, universally imputed
to a barbarous desire of glutting his eyes with the blood of the man
whom he hated and had pursued with a hostility more unrelenting than
that of Cecil himself, was never forgiven by the people, who detested
him no less than they loved and admired his unfortunate rival. Several
years after, when Raleigh in his turn was brought to the same end in the
same place, he professed however, and perhaps truly, that the sorrowful
spectacle had melted him to tears: meantime, he at least extracted from
the late events large gratification for another ruling passion of his
breast, by setting to sale his interest in procuring pardons to
gentlemen concerned in the insurrection. Mr. Lyttleton in particular is
recorded to have paid him ten thousand pounds for his good offices, and
Mr. Bainham a sum not specified. The life of the earl of Southampton was
spared, at the intercession chiefly of Cecil, but he was confined in the
Tower till the death of the queen: others escaped with short
imprisonments and the imposition of fines, few of which were exacted;
sir Fulk Greville having humanely made it his business to represent to
the queen that no danger was to be apprehended from a faction which had
lost its leader. Four only of the principal conspirators suffered
capitally; sir Christopher Blount and sir Charles Davers, both
catholics, sir Gilly Merrick and Henry Cuff.
Those ambassadors from the king of Scots on whose co-operation Essex had
placed his chief reliance, now arrived; and finding themselves too late
for other purposes, they obeyed their master's instructions in such a
case by offering to the queen his warmest congratulations on her escape
from so foul and dangerous a conspiracy. They were further charged to
make secret inquiry whether James's correspondence with Essex and
concurrence in the late conspiracy had come to her knowledge; and
whether any measures were likely to be taken in consequence for his
exclusion from the succession. The confessions of Essex to the
privy-councillors had indeed rendered Elizabeth perfectly acquainted
with the machinations of James; but resolute to refrain during the
remnant of her days from all angry discussions with the prince whom she
saw destined to succeed her, she had caused the earl to be not only
requested, but commanded, to forbear the repetition of this part of his
acknowledgements on the scaffold. She was thus left free to receive with
all those demonstrations of amity which cost her nothing the compliments
of James; and she remained deliberately ignorant of all that he desired
her not to know. The Scottish emissaries had the further satisfaction of
carrying back to their master assurances of the general consent of
Englishmen in his favor, and in particular a pledge of the adherence of
secretary Cecil, who immediately opened a private correspondence with
the king, of which lord Henry Howard, who had formerly conducted that of
Essex, became the willing medium.
There is good evidence that the peace of Elizabeth received an incurable
wound by the loss of her unhappy favorite, which she daily found
additional cause to regret on perceiving how completely it had delivered
her over to the domination of his adversaries; but she still retained
the resolution to pursue with unabated vigor the great objects on which
she was sensible that the mind of a sovereign ought to be with little
remission employed. The memorable siege of Ostend, begun during this
summer by the archduke Albert, fixed her attention and that of Europe.
The defence was conducted by that able officer sir Francis Vere at the
head of a body of English auxiliaries, whom the States had enlisted with
the queen's permission, at their own expense. Henry IV., as if for the
purpose of observing more nearly the event, had repaired to Calais. The
queen of England, earnestly desirous of a personal interview, wrote him
two letters on the subject; and Henry sent in return marshal Biron and
two other ambassadors of rank, with a train of three or four hundred
persons, whom the queen received with high honors, and caused to
accompany her in her progress. During her visit of thirteen days to the
marquis of Winchester at Basing, the French embassy was lodged at the
house of lord Sandys, which was furnished for the occasion with plate
and hangings from Hampton-court; the queen defraying all the charges,
which were more than those of her own court at Basing. She made it her
boast that she had in this progress entertained royally a royal
ambassador at her subjects' houses; which she said no other prince could
do. The meeting of the two sovereigns, in hopes of which Elizabeth had
actually gone to Dover, could not for some unknown reason be at last
arranged; but Henry, at the particular instance of his friend and ally,
sent Sully over in disguise to confer confidentially with her respecting
an important political project which she had announced. This was no less
than a plan for humbling the house of Austria, and establishing a more
perfect balance of power in Europe by uniting into one state the
seventeen Flemish provinces. It was an idea, as Sully declared to her,
which had previously occurred to Henry himself; and the coincidence was
flattering to both; but various obstacles were found likely to retard
its execution till a period to which Elizabeth could scarcely look
forward. One advantage, however, was gained to the queen of England by
the interview;--the testimony of this celebrated statesman, recorded in
his own memoirs, to the solidity of her judgement and the enlargement of
her views; and his distinct avowal that she was in all respects worthy
of the high estimation which she had for more than forty years enjoyed
by common consent of all the politicians of Europe.
Ireland was still a source to Elizabeth of anxiety and embarrassment. In
order to sustain the expenses of the war, she suffered herself to be
prevailed on to issue base money for the pay of the troops;--a
mortifying circumstance, after the high credit which she had gained by
that restoration of the coin to its original standard which was one of
the first acts of her reign. Montjoy in the meantime was struggling with
vigor and progressive success against the disorders of the country. With
the assistance of sir George Carew president of Munster, and other able
commanders, he was gradually reducing the inferior rebels and cutting
off the supplies of Tyrone himself: but the courage of this insurgent
was still supported by the hope of aids from Spain; and during this
summer two bodies of Spanish troops, one of four thousand, the other of
two thousand men, made good their landing. The larger number, under
Aquila, took possession of Kinsale; the smaller, under Ocampo, was
joined by Tyrone and other rebels with all their forces. The appearance
of affairs was alarming, since the catholic Irish every where welcomed
the Spaniards as deliverers and brethren: but Montjoy, after blockading
Aquila in Kinsale, marched boldly to attack Ocampo and his Irish allies;
gave them a complete defeat, in which the Spanish general was made
prisoner and Tyrone compelled to fly into Ulster; and afterwards
returning to the siege of Kinsale, compelled Aquila to capitulate on
condition of a safe conveyance to their own country for himself and all
the Spanish troops in the island.
The state of the queen's mind while the fate of Ireland seemed to hang
in the balance, and while the impression made by the attempt of Essex
was still recent, is depicted in the following letter by sir John
Harrington with his usual minuteness and vivacity.
* * * * *
_To sir Hugh Portman knight._ (Dated October 9th 1601.)
"...For six weeks I left my oxen and sheep and ventured to court....
Much was my comfort in being well received, notwithstanding it is an ill
hour for seeing the queen. The madcaps are all in riot, and much evil
threatened. In good sooth I feared her majesty more than the rebel
Tyrone, and wished I had never received my lord of Essex's honor of
knighthood. She is quite _disfavored_[141] and unattired, and these
troubles waste her much. She disregarded every costly cover that cometh
to the table, and taketh little but manchet and succory pottage. Every
new message from the city doth disturb her, and she frowns on all the
ladies. I had a sharp message from her, brought by my lord Buckhurst,
namely thus. 'Go tell that witty fellow my godson to get home; it is no
season now to fool it here,' I liked this as little as she doth my
knighthood, so took to my boots, and returned to the plough in bad
weather. I must not say much even by this trusty and sure messenger, but
the many evil plots and designs hath overcome all her highness' sweet
temper. She walks much in her privy chamber, and stamps with her feet at
ill news, and thrusts her rusty sword at times into the arras in great
rage. My lord Buckhurst is much with her, and few else since the city
business; but the dangers are over, and yet she always keeps a sword by
her table. I obtained a short audience at my first coming to court, when
her highness told me, if ill counsel had brought me so far from home,
she wished heaven might mar that fortune which she had mended. I made my
peace in this point, and will not leave my poor castle of Kelston, for
fear of finding a worse elsewhere, as others have done. I will eat
Aldborne rabbits, and get fish as you recommend from the man at
Curry-Rival; and get partridge and hares when I can; and my venison
where I can; and leave all great matters to those like them better than
myself.... I could not move in any suit to serve your neighbour B. such
was the face of things: and so disordered is all order that her highness
hath worn but one change of raiment for many days, and swears much at
those that cause her griefs in such wise, to the no small discomfiture
of all about her, more especially our sweet lady Arundel, that _Venus
plus quam venusta_."
[Note 141: Changed in countenance.]
* * * * *