CHAPTER XLIV.

ELIZABETH.

{1599.} Though the dominion of the English over Ireland had been

seemingly established above four centuries, it may safely be affirmed,

that their authority had hitherto been little more than nominal. The

Irish princes and nobles, divided among themselves, readily paid the

exterior marks of obeisance to a power which they were not able to

resist; but, as no durable force was ever kept on foot to retain them in

their duty, they relapsed still into their former state of independence.

Too weak to introduce order and obedience among the rude inhabitants,

the English authority was yet sufficient to check the growth of any

enterprising genius among the natives: and though it could bestow no

true form of civil government, it was able to prevent the rise of any

such form from the internal combination or policy of the Irish.[*]

* Sir J. Davies, p. 5, 6, 7, etc.

Most of the English institutions, likewise, by which that island was

governed, were to the last degree absurd, and such as no state before

had ever thought of, for preserving dominion over its conquered

provinces.

The English nation, all on fire for the project of subduing France,--a

project whose success was the most improbable, and would to them have

proved the most pernicious,--neglected all other enterprises, to which

their situation so strongly invited them, and which, in time, would have

brought them an accession of riches, grandeur, and security. The small

army which they maintained in Ireland, they never supplied regularly

with pay; and as no money could be levied on the island, which possessed

none, they gave their soldiers the privilege of free quarter upon

the natives. Rapine and insolence inflamed the hatred which prevailed

between the conquerors and the conquered: want of security among the

Irish, introducing despair, nourished still more the sloth natural to

that uncultivated people.

But the English carried further their ill-judged tyranny, instead

of inviting the Irish to adopt the more civilized customs of their

conquerors, they even refused, though earnestly solicited, to

communicate to them the privilege of their laws and every where marked

them out as aliens and as enemies. Thrown out of the protection of

justice, the natives could find no security but in force; and flying the

neighborhood of cities, which they could not approach with safety, they

sheltered themselves in their marshes and forests from the insolence of

their inhuman masters. Being treated like wild beasts, they became such;

and joining the ardor of revenge to their yet untamed barbarity, they

grew every day more intractable and more dangerous.[*]

As the English princes deemed the conquest of the dispersed Irish to be

more the object of time and patience than the source of military glory,

they willingly delegated that office to private adventurers; who,

enlisting soldiers at their own charge, reduced provinces of that

island, which they converted to their own profit. Separate jurisdictions

and principalities were established by these lordly conquerors: the

power of peace and war was assumed: military law was exercised over

the Irish whom they subdued, and, by degrees, over the English by whose

assistance they conquered; and, after their authority had once taken

root, deeming the English institutions less favorable to barbarous

dominion, they degenerated into mere Irish, and abandoned the garb,

language, manners, and laws of their mother country.[**]

By all this imprudent conduct of England, the natives of its dependent

state remained still in that abject condition into which the northern

and western parts of Europe were sunk, before they received civility and

slavery from the refined policy and irresistible bravery of Rome. Even

at the end of the sixteenth century, when every Christian nation was

cultivating with ardor every civil art of life, that island, lying in a

temperate climate, enjoying a fertile soil, accessible in its situation,

possessed of innumerable harbors, was still, notwithstanding these

advantages, inhabited by a people whose customs and manners approached

nearer those of savages than of barbarians.[***]

* Sir J. Davies, p. 102, 103, etc.

** Sir J. Davies, p. 133, 134, etc

*** See Spenser’s Account of Ireland, throughout.

As the rudeness and ignorance of the Irish were extreme they were sunk

below the reach of that curiosity and love of novelty by which every

other people in Europe had been seized at the beginning of that century,

and which had engaged them in innovations and religious disputes, with

which they were still so violently agitated. The ancient superstition,

the practices and observances of their fathers, mingled and polluted

with many wild opinions, still maintained an unshaken empire over

them; and the example alone of the English was sufficient to render the

reformation odious to the prejudiced and discontented Irish. The old

opposition of manners, laws, and interest was now inflamed by religious

antipathy; and the subduing and civilizing of that country seemed to

become every day more difficult and more impracticable.

The animosity against the English was carried so far by the Irish, that,

in an insurrection raised by two sons of the earl of Clanricarde, they

put to the sword all the inhabitants of the town of Athenry, though

Irish, because they began to conform themselves to English customs, and

had embraced a more civilized form of life than had been practised by

their ancestors.[*]

The usual revenue of Ireland amounted only to six thousand pounds a

year:[**] the queen, though with much repining,[***] commonly added

twenty thousand more, which she remitted from England; and with

this small revenue a body of a thousand men was supported, which, on

extraordinary emergencies, was augmented to two thousand.[****] No

wonder that a force so disproportioned to the object, instead of

subduing a mutinous kingdom, served rather to provoke the natives, and

to excite those frequent insurrections, which still further inflamed the

animosity between the two nations, and increased the disorders to which

the Irish were naturally subject.

In 1560, Shan O’Neale, or the great O’Neale, as the Irish called him,

because head of that potent clan, raised a rebellion in Ulster; but

after some skirmishes, he was received into favor, upon his submission,

and his promise of a more dutiful behavior for the future.[v]

* Camden, p. 457.

** Memoirs of the Sidneys, vol. i. p. 86.

*** Cox, p. 342. Sidney, vol. i. p. 85, 200.

**** Camden, p. 542. Sidney, vol. i. p. 65, 109, 183, 184.

v Camden, p. 385, 391. 305

This impunity tempted him to undertake a new insurrection in 1567;

but being pushed by Sir Henry Sidney, lord deputy, he retreated into

Clandeboy, and rather than submit to the English, he put himself into

the hands of some Scottish islanders, who commonly infested those parts

by their incursions. The Scots, who retained a quarrel against him

on account of former injuries, violated the laws of hospitality, and

murdered him at a festival to which they had invited him. He was a man

equally noted for his pride, his violence, his debaucheries, and

his hatred of the English nation. He is said to have put some of his

followers to death because they endeavored to introduce the use of bread

after the English fashion.[*] Though so violent an enemy to luxury,

he was extremely addicted to riot; and was accustomed, after his

intemperance had thrown him into a fever, to plunge his body into

mire, that he might allay the flame which he had raised by former

excesses.[**] Such was the life led by this haughty barbarian; who

scorned the title of the earl of Tyrone, which Elizabeth intended to

have restored to him, and who assumed the rank and appellation of king

of Ulster. He used also to say, that though the queen was his sovereign

lady, he never made peace with her but at her seeking.[***]

Sir Henry Sidney was one of the wisest and most active governors that

Ireland had enjoyed for several reigns;[****] and he possessed

his authority eleven years; during which he struggled with many

difficulties, and made some progress in repressing those disorders which

had become inveterate among the people. The earl of Desmond, in 1569,

gave him disturbance, from the hereditary animosity which prevailed

between that nobleman and the earl of Ormond, descended from the only

family, established in Ireland, that had steadily maintained its loyalty

to the English crown.[v] The earl of Thomond, in 1570, attempted a

rebellion in Connaught, but was obliged to fly into France before his

designs were ripe for execution. Stukely, another fugitive, found such

credit with the pope, Gregory XIII., that he flattered that pontiff with

the prospect of making his nephew, Buon Compagno, king of Ireland; and,

as if this project had already taken effect, he accepted the title of

marquis of Leinster from the new sovereign.[v*] He passed next into

Spain; and after having received much encouragement and great rewards

from Philip, who intended to employ him as an instrument in disturbing

Elizabeth, he was found to possess too little interest for executing

those high promises which he had made to that monarch.

* Camden, p. 409.

** Camden, p. 409. Cox, p. 324.

*** Camden, p. 321.

**** Cox, p. 350.

v Camden, p. 424.

v* Camden, p. 430. Cox, p. 354

He retired into Portugal; and following the fortunes of Don Sebastian,

he perished with that gallant prince in his bold but unfortunate

expedition against the Moors.

Lord Gray, after some interval, succeeded to the government of Ireland;

and in 1579 suppressed a new rebellion of the earl of Desmond, though

supported by a body of Spaniards and Italians. The rebellion of

the Bourks followed a few years after; occasioned by the strict and

equitable administration of Sir Richard Bingham, governor of Connaught,

who endeavored to repress the tyranny of the chieftains over their

vassals.[*] The queen, finding Ireland so burdensome to her, tried

several expediants for reducing it to a state of greater order and

submission. She encouraged the earl of Essex, father to that nobleman

who was afterwards her favorite, to attempt the subduing and planting of

Clandeboy, Ferny, and other territories, part of some late forfeitures;

but that enterprise proved unfortunate; and Essex died of a distemper,

occasioned, as is supposed, by the vexation which he had conceived from

his disappointments. A university was founded in Dublin with a view

of introducing arts and learning into that kingdom, and civilizing

the uncultivated manners of the inhabitants.[**] But the most unhappy

expedient employed in the government of Ireland, was that made use of in

1585 by Sir John Perrot, at that time lord deputy; he put arms into

the hands of the Irish inhabitants of Ulster, in order to enable them,

without the assistance of the government, to repress the incursions of

the Scottish islanders, by which these parts were much infested.[***] At

the same time, the invitations of Philip, joined to their zeal for

the Catholic religion, engaged many of the gentry to serve in the

Low Country wars, and thus Ireland, being provided with officers and

soldiers, with discipline and arms, became formidable to the English,

and was thenceforth able to maintain a more regular war against her

ancient masters.

* Stowe, p. 720.

** Camden, p. 566.

*** Nanton’s Fragmenta Regalia, p. 203.

Hugh O’Neale, nephew to Shan O’Neale, had been raised by the queen to

the dignity of earl of Tyrone; but having murdered his cousin, son of

that rebel, and being acknowledged head of his clan, he preferred the

pride of barbarous license and dominion to the pleasures of opulence and

tranquillity, and he fomented all those disorders by which he hoped to

weaken or overturn the English government. He was noted for the vices of

perfidy and cruelty, so common among uncultivated nations; and was also

eminent for courage, a virtue which their disorderly course of life

requires, and which, notwithstanding, being less supported by the

principle of honor, is commonly more precarious among them than among a

civilized people. Tyrone actuated by this spirit, secretly fomented the

discontents of the Maguires, O’Donnels, O’Rourks, Macmahons, and other

rebels; yet, trusting to the influence of his deceitful oaths and

professions, he put himself into the hands of Sir William Russel, who,

in the year 1594, was sent over deputy to Ireland. Contrary to the

advice and protestation of Sir Henry Bagnal, marshal of the army, he was

dismissed; and returning to his own country, he embraced the resolution

of raising an open rebellion, and of relying no longer on the lenity or

inexperience of the English government. He entered into a correspondence

with Spain; he procured thence a supply of arms and ammunition; and

having united all the Irish chieftains in a dependence upon himself, he

began to be regarded as a formidable enemy.

The native Irish were so poor, that their country afforded few other

commodities than cattle and oatmeal, which were easily concealed or

driven away on the approach of the enemy; and as Elizabeth was averse to

the expense requisite for supporting her armies, the English found much

difficulty in pushing their advantages, and in pursuing the rebels into

the bogs, woods, and other fastnesses to which they retreated. These

motives rendered Sir John Norris, who commanded the English army, the

more willing to hearken to any proposals of truce or accommodation made

him by Tyrone; and after the war was spun out by these artifices for

some years, that gallant Englishman, finding that he had been deceived

by treacherous promises, and that he had performed nothing worthy of his

ancient reputation, was seized with a languishing distemper, and died

of vexation and discontent. Sir Henry Bagnal, who succeeded him in the

command, was still more unfortunate. As he advanced to relieve the

fort of Black Water, besieged by the rebels, he was surrounded in

disadvantageous ground: his soldiers, discouraged by part of their

powders accidentally taking fire, were put to flight; and, though the

pursuit was stopped by Montacute, who commanded the English horse,

fifteen hundred men, together with the general himself, were left dead

upon the spot. This victory, so unusual to the Irish, roused their

courage, supplied them with arms and ammunition, and raised the

reputation of Tyrone, who assumed the character of the deliverer of his

country, and patron of Irish liberty.[*]

The English council were now sensible, that the rebellion of Ireland

was come to a dangerous head, and that the former temporizing arts, of

granting truces and pacifications to the rebels, and of allowing them to

purchase pardons by resigning part of the plunder acquired during their

insurrection, served only to encourage the spirit of mutiny and disorder

among them. It was therefore resolved to push the war by more vigorous

measures; and the queen cast her eye on Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy,

as a man, who, though hitherto less accustomed to arms than to books

and literature, was endowed, she thought, with talents equal to the

undertaking. But the young earl of Essex, ambitious of fame, and

desirous of obtaining this government for himself, opposed the choice of

Mountjoy; and represented the necessity of appointing for that important

employment, some person more experienced in war than this nobleman, more

practised in business, and of higher quality and reputation. By this

description, he was understood to mean himself;[**] and no sooner

was his desire known, than his enemies, even more zealously than his

friends, conspired to gratify his wishes. Many of his friends thought,

that he never ought to consent, except for a short time, to accept of

any employment which must remove him from court, and prevent him from

cultivating that personal inclination which the queen so visibly bore

him.[***]

* Cox, p. 415.

** Bacon, vol. iv. p. 512.

*** Cabala, p. 79.

His enemies hoped, that if by his absence she had once leisure to forget

the charms of his person and conversation, his impatient and lofty

demeanor would soon disgust a princess who usually exacted such profound

submission and implicit obedience from all her servants. But Essex was

incapable of entering into such cautious views; and even Elizabeth, who

was extremely desirous of subduing the Irish rebels, and who was much

prepossessed in favor of Essex’s genius, readily agreed to appoint

him governor of Ireland, by the title of lord lieutenant. The more to

encourage him in his undertaking, she granted him by his patent more

extensive authority had ever before been conferred on any lieutenant;

the power of carrying on or finishing the war as he pleased, of

pardoning the rebels, and of filling all the most considerable

employments of the kingdom.[*] And to insure him of success, she levied

a numerous army of sixteen thousand foot and thirteen hundred horse,

which she afterwards augmented to twenty thousand foot and two thousand

horse; a force which, it was apprehended, would be able in one campaign

to overwhelm the rebels, and make an entire conquest of Ireland. Nor did

Essex’s enemies, the earl of Nottingham, Sir Robert Cecil, Sir Walter

Raleigh, and Lord Cobham, throw any obstacles in the way of these

preparations; but hoped that the higher the queen’s expectations of

success were raised, the more difficult it would be for the event to

correspond to them. In a like view, they rather seconded than opposed

those exalted encomiums, which Essex’s numerous and sanguine friends

dispersed, of his high genius, of his elegant endowments, his heroic

courage, his unbounded generosity, and his noble birth; nor were they

displeased to observe that passionate fondness which the people every

where expressed for this nobleman. These artful politicians had studied

his character; and finding that his open and undaunted spirit, if

taught temper and reserve from opposition, must become invincible, they

resolved rather to give full breath to those sails which were already

too much expanded and to push him upon dangers of which he seemed to

make such small account.[**] And the better to make advantage of

his indiscretions, spies were set upon all his actions, and even

expressions; and his vehement spirit, which, while he was in the

midst of the court and environed by his rivals, was unacquainted with

disguise, could not fail, after he thought himself surrounded by

none but friends, to give a pretence for malignant suspicions and

constructions.

* Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 366.

** Camden. Osborne, p. 371.

Essex left London in the month of March, attended with the acclamations

of the populace; and, what did him more honor, accompanied by a numerous

train of nobility and gentry, who, from affection to his person, had

attached themselves to his fortunes, and sought fame and military

experience under so renowned a commander. The first act of authority

which he exercised after his arrival in Ireland, was an indiscretion,

but of the generous kind, and in both these respects suitable to his

character. He appointed his intimate friend the earl of Southampton,

general of the horse; a nobleman who had incurred the queen’s

displeasure by secretly marrying without her consent, and whom she had

therefore enjoined Essex not to employ in any command under him. She no

sooner heard of this instance of disobedience, than she reprimanded him,

and ordered him to recall his commission to Southampton. But Essex, who

had imagined that some reasons which he opposed to her first injunctions

had satisfied her, had the imprudence to remonstrate against these

second orders;[*] and it was not till she reiterated her commands that

he could be prevailed on to displace his friend.

Essex, on his landing at Dublin, deliberated with the Irish council

concerning the proper methods of carrying on the war against the rebels;

and here he was guilty of a capital error, which was the ruin of his

enterprise. He had always, while in England, blamed the conduct of

former commanders, who artfully protracted the war, who harassed

their troops in small enterprises, and who, by agreeing to truces and

temporary pacifications with the rebels, had given them leisure to

recruit their broken forces.[**] In conformity to these views, he had

ever insisted upon leading his forces immediately into Ulster against

Tyrone, the chief enemy; and his instructions had been drawn agreeably

to these his declared resolutions. But the Irish counsellors persuaded

him that the season was too early for the enterprise, and that as the

morasses, in which the northern Irish usually sheltered themselves,

would not as yet be passable to the English forces, it would be better

to employ the present time in an expedition into Munster. Their secret

reason for this advice was, that many of them possessed estates in

that province, and were desirous to have the enemy dislodged from their

neighborhood;[***] but the same selfish spirit which had induced them to

give this counsel, made them soon after disown it, when they found the

bad consequences with which it was attended.[****]

* Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii p. 421, 451.

** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 431. Bacon, vol. iv. 512.

*** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 448.

**** Winwood, vol. i. p. 140.

Essex obliged all the rebels of Munster either to submit or to fly into

the neighboring provinces: but as the Irish, from the greatness of the

queen’s preparations, had concluded that she intended to reduce them to

total subjection, or even utterly to exterminate them, they considered

their defence as a common cause; and the English forces were no sooner

withdrawn, than the inhabitants of Munster relapsed into rebellion,

and renewed their confederacy with their other countrymen. The army,

meanwhile, by the fatigue of long and tedious marches, and by the

influence of the climate, was become sickly; and on its return to

Dublin, about the middle of July, was surprisingly diminished in number.

The courage of the soldiers was even much abated: for though they had

prevailed in some lesser enterprises against Lord Cahir and others, yet

had they sometimes met with more stout resistance than they expected

from the Irish, whom they were wont to despise; and as they were raw

troops and unexperienced, a considerable body of them had been put to

flight at the Glins by an inferior number of the enemy. Essex was so

enraged at this misbehavior, that he cashiered all the officers, and

decimated the private men.[*] But this act of seventy, though necessary,

had intimidated the soldiers, and increased their aversion to the

service.

The queen was extremely disgusted, when she heard that so considerable a

part of the season was consumed in these frivolous enterprises; and was

still more surprised, that Essex persevered in the same practice which

he had so much condemned in others, and which he knew to be so much

contrary to her purpose and intention. That nobleman, in order to give

his troops leisure to recruit from their sickness and fatigue, left the

main army in quarters, and marched with a small body of fifteen hundred

men into the county of Ophelie against the O’Connors and O’Mores, whom

he forced to a submission: but, on his return to Dublin, he found the

army so much diminished, that he wrote to the English council an account

of its condition, and informed them, that if he did not immediately

receive a reënforcement of two thousand men, it would be impossible for

him this season to attempt any thing against Tyrone. That there might be

no pretence for further inactivity, the queen immediately sent over the

number demanded;[**] and Essex began at last to assemble his forces for

the expedition into Ulster.

* Cox, p. 421.

** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 430. Cox, p. 421.

The army was so averse to this enterprise, and so terrified with the

reputation of Tyrone, that many of them counterfeited sickness, many

of them deserted;[*] and Essex found, that after leaving the necessary

garrisons, he could scarcely lead four thousand men against the rebels.

He marched, however, with this small army; but was soon sensible, that

in so advanced a season, it would be impossible for him to effect any

thing against an enemy who, though superior in number, was determined to

avoid every decisive action. He hearkened, therefore, to a message sent

him by Tyrone, who desired a conference; and a place near the two camps

was appointed for that purpose. The generals met without any of their

attendants; and a river ran between them, into which Tyrone entered to

the depth of his saddle; but Essex stood on the opposite bank. After

half an hour’s conference, where Tyrone behaved with great submission to

the lord lieutenant, a cessation of arms was concluded to the first of

May, renewable from six weeks to six weeks; but which might be broken

off by either party upon a fortnight’s warning.[**] Essex also received

from Tyrone proposals for a peace, in which that rebel had inserted many

unreasonable and exorbitant conditions: and there appeared afterwards

some reason to suspect that he had here commenced a very unjustifiable

correspondence with the enemy.[***]

* Sydney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 112, 113.

** Sydney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 125.

*** Winwood, vol. i. p. 307. State Trials. Bacon, vol. iv.

p. 514, 585, 537.

So unexpected an issue of an enterprise, the greatest and most expensive

that Elizabeth had ever undertaken, provoked her extremely against

Essex; and this disgust was much augmented by other circumstances of

that nobleman’s conduct. He wrote many letters to the queen and council,

full of peevish and impatient expressions; complaining of his enemies,

lamenting that their calumnies should be believed against him, and

discovering symptoms of a mind equally haughty and discontented. She

took care to inform him of her dissatisfaction: but commanded him to

remain in Ireland till further orders.

Essex heard at once of Elizabeth’s anger, and of the promotion of his

enemy, Sir Robert Cecil, to the office of master of the wards, an office

to which he himself aspired: and dreading that, if he remained any

longer absent, the queen would be totally alienated from him, he hastily

embraced a resolution which, he knew, had once succeeded with the

earl of Leicester, the former favorite of Elizabeth. Leicester, being

informed, while in the Low Countries, that his mistress was extremely

displeased with his conduct, disobeyed her orders by coming over to

England; and having pacified her by his presence, by his apologies, and

by his flattery and insinuation, disappointed all the expectations

of his enemies.[*] Essex, therefore, weighing more the similarity of

circumstances than the difference of character between himself and

Leicester, immediately set out for England; and making speedy journeys,

he arrived at court before any one was in the least apprised of his

intentions.[**] Though besmeared with dirt and sweat, he hastened

upstairs to the presence chamber, thence to the privy chamber; nor

stopped till he was in the queen’s bed-chamber, who was newly risen, and

was sitting with her hair about her face. He threw himself on his knees,

kissed her hand, and had some private conference with her; where he was

so graciously received, that on his departure he was heard to express

great satisfaction, and to thank God that, though he had suffered much

trouble and many storms abroad, he found a sweet calm at home.[***]

* Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 453.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 118.

*** Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 127.

But this placability of Elizabeth was merely the result of her surprise,

and of the momentary satisfaction which she felt on the sudden and

unexpected appearance of her favorite: after she had leisure for

recollection, all his faults recurred to her; and she thought it

necessary, by some severe discipline to subdue that haughty, imperious

spirit, who, presuming on her partiality, had pretended to domineer

in her councils, to engross all her favor, and to act, in the most

important affairs, without regard to her orders and instructions. When

Essex waited on her in the afternoon, he found her extremely altered in

her carriage towards him: she ordered him to be confined to his chamber;

to be twice examined by the council; and though his answers were calm

and submissive, she committed him to the custody of Lord Keeper Egerton,

and held him sequestered from all company, even from that of his

countess, nor was so much as the intercourse of letters permitted

between them. Essex dropped many expressions of humiliation and sorrow,

none of resentment: he professed an entire submission to the queen’s

will; declared his intention of retiring into the country, and of

leading thenceforth a private life remote from courts and business: but

though he affected to be so entirely cured of his aspiring ambition,

the vexation of this disappointment, and of the triumph gained by his

enemies, preyed upon his haughty spirit, and he fell into a distemper

which seemed to put his life in danger.

The queen had always declared to all the world, and even to the earl

himself, that the purpose of her severity was to correct, not to ruin

him;[*] and when she heard of his sickness, she was not a little alarmed

with his situation. She ordered eight physicians of the best reputation

and experience to consult of his case; and being informed that the issue

was much to be apprehended, she sent Dr. James to him with some broth,

and desired that physician to deliver him a message, which she probably

deemed of still greater virtue, that if she thought such a step

consistent with her honor, she would herself pay him a visit. The

bystanders, who carefully observed her countenance, remarked, that in

pronouncing these words her eyes were suffused with tears.[**]

When these symptoms of the queen’s returning affection towards Essex

were known, they gave a sensible alarm to the faction which had declared

their opposition to him. Sir Walter Raleigh in particular, the most

violent as well as the most ambitious of his enemies, was so affected

with the appearance of this sudden revolution, that he was seized with

sickness in his turn; and the queen was obliged to apply the same salve

to his wound, and to send him a favorable message, expressing her desire

of his recovery.[***]

{1600.} The medicine which the queen administered to these aspiring

rivals was successful with both; and Essex, being now allowed the

company of his countess, and having entertained more promising hopes of

his future fortunes, was so much restored in his health as to be thought

past danger. A belief was instilled into Elizabeth, that his distemper

had been entirely counterfeit, in order to move her compassion;[****]

and she relapsed into her former rigor against him. He wrote her a

letter, and sent her a rich present on new-year’s day, as was usual

with the courtiers at that time: she read the letter but rejected the

present.[v] After some interval, however, of severity, she allowed him

to retire to his own house; and though he remained still under custody,

and was sequestered from all company, he was so grateful for this mark

of lenity, that he sent her a letter of thanks on the occasion.

* Birch’s Memoirs, p. 444, 445. Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii.

p. 196.

** Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 151.

*** Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 139.

**** Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 153

v Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 155, 156.

“This further degree of goodness,” said he, “doth sound in my ears, as

if your majesty spake these words: ‘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.’ My prostrate soul makes this answer: ‘I hope for that

blessed day.’ And in expectation of it, all my afflictions of body and

mind are humbly, patiently, and cheerfully borne by me.”[*] The countess

of Essex, daughter of Sir Francis Walsingham, possessed, as well as her

husband, a refined taste in literature; and the chief consolation which

Essex enjoyed, during this period of anxiety and expectation,

consisted in her company, and in reading with her those instructive

and entertaining authors, which, even during the time of his greatest

prosperity, he had never entirely neglected.

There were several incidents which kept alive the queen’s anger against

Essex. Every account which she received from Ireland, convinced her more

and more of his misconduct in that government, and of the insignificant

purposes to which he had employed so much force and treasure. Tyrone, so

far from being quelled, had thought proper, in less than three months,

to break the truce, and joining with O’Donnel and other rebels, had

overrun almost the whole kingdom. He boasted that he was certain of

receiving a supply of men, money, and arms from Spain: he pretended

to be champion of the Catholic religion: and he openly exulted in the

present of a phoenix plume, which the pope, Clement VIII., in order to

encourage him in the prosecution of so good a cause, had consecrated,

and had conferred upon him.[**]

* Birch’s Memoirs, p. 444.

** Camden p. 617

The queen, that she might check his progress, returned to her former

intention of appointing Mountjoy lord deputy; and though that nobleman,

who was an intimate friend of Essex, and desired his return to the

government of Ireland, did at first very earnestly excuse himself on

account of his bad state of health, she obliged him to accept of the

employment. Mountjoy found the island almost in a desperate condition;

but being a man of capacity and vigor, he was so little discouraged,

that he immediately advanced against Tyrone in Ulster. He penetrated

into the heart of that country, the chief seat of the rebels; he

fortified Derry and Mount-Norris, in order to bridle the Irish: he

chased them from the field, and obliged them to take shelter in the

woods and morasses: he employed, with equal success, Sir George Carew

in Munster: and by these promising enterprises, he gave new life to the

queen’s authority in that island.

As the comparison of Mountjoy’s administration with that of Essex

contributed to alienate Elizabeth from her favorite, she received

additional disgust from the partiality of the people, who, prepossessed

with an extravagant idea of Essex’s merit, complained of the injustice

done him by his removal from court, and by his confinement. Libels were

secretly dispersed against Cecil and Raleigh and all his enemies: and

his popularity, which was always great, seemed rather to be increased

than diminished by his misfortunes. Elizabeth, in order to justify

to the public her conduct with regard to him, had often expressed her

intentions of having him tried in the star chamber for his offences: but

her tenderness for him prevailed at last over her severity; and she

was contented to have him only examined by the privy council. The

attorney-general, Coke, opened the cause against him, and treated him

with the cruelty and insolence which that great lawyer usually exercised

against the unfortunate. He displayed in the strongest colors all the

faults committed by Essex in his administration of Ireland: his making

Southampton general of the horse, contrary to the queen’s injunctions;

his deserting the enterprise against Tyrone, and marching to Leinster

and Munster, his conferring knighthood on too many persons; his secret

conference with Tyrone; and his sudden return from Ireland, in contempt

of her majesty’s commands. He also exaggerated the indignity of

the conditions which Tyrone had been allowed to propose; odious and

abominable conditions, said he; a public toleration of an idolatrous

religion, pardon for himself and every traitor in Ireland, and

full restitution of lands and possessions to all of them.[*] The

solicitor-general, Fleming, insisted upon the wretched situation in

which the earl had left that kingdom; and Francis, son of Sir Nicholas

Bacon, who had been lord keeper in the beginning of the present reign,

closed the charge with displaying the undutiful expressions contained in

some letters written by the earl.

* Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 449.

Essex, when he came to plead in his own defence renounced, with great

submission and humility, all pretensions to an apology;[*] and declared

his resolution never, on this or any other occasion, to have any contest

with his sovereign. He said, that having severed himself from the world,

and abjured all sentiments of ambition, he had no scruple to confess

every failing or error into which his youth, folly, or manifold

infirmities might have betrayed him; that his inward sorrow for his

offences against her majesty was so profound, that it exceeded all his

outward crosses and afflictions, nor had he any scruple of submitting to

a public confession of whatever she had been pleased to impute to him;

that in his acknowledgments he retained only one reserve, which he

never would relinquish but with his life, the assertion of a loyal and

unpolluted heart, of an unfeigned affection, of an earnest desire ever

to perform to her majesty the best service which his pool abilities

would permit; and that, if this sentiment were allowed by the council,

he willingly acquiesced in any condemnation or sentence which they

could pronounce against him. This submission was uttered with so much

eloquence, and in so pathetic a manner, that it drew tears from many of

the audience.[**] All the privy counsellors, in giving their judgment,

made no scruple of doing the earl justice with regard to the loyalty of

his intentions. Even Cecil, whom he believed his capital enemy, treated

him with regard and humanity. And the sentence pronounced by the lord

keeper, (to which the council assented,) was in these words: “If this

cause,” said he, “had been heard in the star chamber, my sentence must

have been for as great a fine as ever was set upon any man’s head in

that court, together with perpetual confinement in that prison which

belongeth to a man of his quality, the Tower. But since we are now in

another place, and in a course of favor, my censure is, that the earl

of Essex is not to execute the office of a counsellor, nor that of earl

marshal of England, nor of master of the ordnance; and to return to his

own house, there to continue a prisoner till it shall please her majesty

to release this and all the rest of his sentence.”[***] The earl of

Cumberland made a slight opposition to this sentence; and said, that if

he thought it would stand, he would have required a little more time

to deliberate; that he deemed it somewhat severe; and that any

commander-in-chief might easily incur a like penalty.

* Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 200.

** Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 200, 201.

*** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 454. Camden, p 626, 627.

“But however,” added he, “in confidence of her majesty’s mercy, I agree

with the rest.” The earl of Worcester delivered his opinion in a couple

of Latin verses; importing, that where the gods are offended, even,

misfortunes ought to be imputed as crimes, and that accident is no

excuse for transgressions against the Divinity.

Bacon, so much distinguished afterwards by his high offices, and still

more by his profound genius for the sciences, was nearly allied to the

Cecil family, being nephew to Lord Burleigh, and cousin-german to the

secretary: but notwithstanding his extraordinary talents, he had met

with so little protection from his powerful relations, that he had not

yet obtained any preferment in the law, which was his profession. But

Essex, who could distinguish merit, and who passionately loved it, had

entered into an intimate friendship with Bacon; had zealously attempted,

though without success, to procure him the office of solicitor-general;

and in order to comfort his friend under the disappointment, had

conferred on him a present of land to the value of eighteen hundred

pounds.[*] The public could ill excuse Bacon’s appearance before the

council against so munificent a benefactor; though he acted in obedience

to the queen’s commands: but she was so well pleased with his behavior,

that she imposed on him a new task, of drawing a narrative of that day’s

proceedings, in order to satisfy the public of the justice and lenity of

her conduct. Bacon, who wanted firmness of character more than humanity,

gave to the whole transaction the most favorable turn for Essex; and, in

particular, painted out, in elaborate expression, the dutiful submission

which that nobleman discovered in the defence that he made for his

conduct. When he read the paper to her, she smiled at that passage,

and observed to Bacon, that old love, she saw, could not easily be

forgotten. He replied, that he hoped she meant that of herself.[**]

All the world, indeed, expected that Essex would soon be reinstated in

his former credit;[***] perhaps, as is usual in reconcilements founded

on inclination, would acquire an additional ascendant over the queen,

and after all his disgraces would again appear more a favorite than

ever.

* Cabala, p. 78.

** Cabala, p. 83.

*** Winwood, vol i. p. 254., Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii p.

462.

They were confirmed in this hope, when they saw that, though he was

still prohibited from appearing at court, he was continued in his office

of master of horse, and was restored to his liberty, and that all his

friends had access to him. Essex himself seemed determined to persevere

in that conduct which had hitherto been so successful, and which the

queen, by all this discipline, had endeavored to render habitual to him:

he wrote to her, that he kissed her majesty’s hands, and the rod with

which she had corrected him; but that he could never recover his wonted

cheerfulness, till she deigned to admit him to that presence which had

ever been the chief source of his happiness and enjoyment: and that he

had now resolved to make amends for his past errors, to retire into a

country solitude, and say with Nebucidnezzar, “Let my dwelling be with

the beasts of the field; let me eat grass as an ox, and be wet with

the dew of heaven; till it shall please the queen to restore me to my

understanding.” The queen was much pleased with these sentiments; and

replied, that she heartily wished his actions might correspond with his

expressions; that he had tried her patience a long time, and it was but

fitting she should now make some experiment of his submission; that her

father would never have pardoned so much obstinacy; but that, if the

furnace of affliction produced such good effects, she should ever after

have the better opinion of her chemistry.[*]

The earl of Essex possessed a monopoly of sweet wines; and as his patent

was near expiring, he patiently expected that the queen would renew it;

and he considered this event as the critical circumstance of his life,

which would determine whether he could ever hope to be reinstated

in credit and authority.[**] But Elizabeth, though gracious in her

deportment, was of a temper somewhat haughty and severe; and being

continually surrounded with Essex’s enemies, means were found to

persuade her, that his lofty spirit was not yet sufficiently subdued,

and that he must undergo this further trial, before he could again be

safely received into favor. She therefore denied his request; and even

added, in a contemptuous style, that an ungovernable beast must be

stinted in his provender.[***]

* Camden, p. 628.

** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 472.

*** Camden, p. 628.

This rigor, pushed one step too far, proved the final ruin of this young

nobleman, and was the source of infinite sorrow and vexation to the

queen herself. Essex, who had with great difficulty so long subdued his

proud spirit, and whose patience was now exhausted, imagining that

the queen was entirely inexorable, burst at once all restraints of

submission and of prudence, and determined to seek relief by proceeding

to the utmost extremities against his enemies. Even during his greatest

favor, he had ever been accustomed to carry matters with a high hand

towards his sovereign, and as this practice gratified his own temper,

and was sometimes successful, he had imprudently imagined that it was

the only proper method of managing her: [*] but being now reduced to

despair, he gave entire reins to his violent disposition, and threw off

all appearance of duty and respect. Intoxicated with the public favor

which he already possessed, he practised anew every art of popularity;

and endeavored to increase the general good will by a hospitable manner

of life, little suited to his situation and circumstances. His former

employments had given him great connections, with men of the military

profession; and he now entertained, by additional caresses and

civilities, a friendship with all desperate adventurers, whose

attachment, he hoped, might, in his present views, prove serviceable to

him. He secretly courted the confidence of the Catholics; but his chief

trust lay in the Puritans, whom he openly caressed, and whose manners

he seemed to have entirely adopted. He engaged the most celebrated

preachers of that sect to resort to Essex House; he had daily prayers

and sermons in his family; and he invited all the zealots in London to

attend those pious exercises. Such was the disposition now beginning

to prevail among the English, that, instead of feasting and public

spectacles, the methods anciently practised to gain the populace,

nothing so effectually ingratiated an ambitious leader with the public

as these fanatical entertainments. And as the Puritanical preachers

frequently inculcated in their sermons the doctrine of resistance to

the civil magistrate, they prepared the minds of their hearers for those

seditious projects which Essex was secretly meditating.[**]

* Cabala, p. 79.

** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 463. Camden, p. 630.

But the greatest imprudence of this nobleman proceeded from the

openness of his temper, by which he was ill qualified to succeed in

such difficult, and dangerous enterprises. He indulged himself in great

liberties of speech, and was even heard to say of the queen, that she

was now grown an old woman and was become as crooked in her mind as

in her body.[*] Some court ladies, whose favors Essex had formerly

neglected, carried her these stories, and incensed her to a high degree

against him. Elizabeth was ever remarkably jealous on this head; and

though she was now approaching to her seventieth year, she allowed her

courtiers,[**] and even foreign ambassadors,[***] to compliment her upon

her beauty; nor had all her good sense been able to cure her of this

preposterous vanity.[****] [37]

* Camden, p. 629. Osborne, p. 397. Sir Walter Raleigh’s

Prerogative of Parliament, p. 43.

** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 442, 443.

*** Sidney’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 171.

**** See note KK, at the end of the volume.

There was also an expedient employed by Essex, which, if possible,

was more provoking to the queen than those sarcasms on her age and

deformity; and that was, his secret applications to the king of Scots,

her heir and successor. That prince had this year very narrowly escaped

a dangerous, though ill-formed conspiracy of the earl of Gowry; and even

his deliverance was attended with this disagreeable circumstance,

that the obstinate ecclesiastics persisted, in spite of the most

incontestable evidence, to maintain to his face, that there had been

no such conspiracy. James, harassed with his turbulent and factious

subjects, cast a wishful eye to the succession of England; and in

proportion as the queen advanced in years, his desire increased of

mounting that throne, on which, besides acquiring a great addition of

power and splendor, he hoped to govern a people so much more tractable

and submissive. He negotiated with all the courts of Europe, in order to

insure himself friends and partisans: he even neglected not the court

of Rome and that of Spain; and though he engaged himself in no positive

promise, he flattered the Catholics with hopes that, in the event of

his succession, they might expect some more liberty than was at present

indulged them. Elizabeth was the only sovereign in Europe to whom he

never dared to mention his right of succession: he knew that, though

her advanced age might now invite her to think of fixing an heir to

the crown, she never could bear the prospect of her own death

without horror, and was determined still to retain him, and all other

competitors, in an entire dependence upon her.

Essex was descended by females from the royal family and some of his

sanguine partisans had been so imprudent as to mention his name among

those of other pretenders to the crown; but the earl took care, by means

of Henry Lee, whom he secretly sent into Scotland, to assure James, that

so far from entertaining such ambitious views, he was determined to use

every expedient for extorting an immediate declaration in favor of

that monarch’s right of succession. James willingly hearkened to

this proposal, but did not approve of the violent methods which Essex

intended to employ. Essex had communicated his scheme to Mountjoy,

deputy of Ireland; and as no man ever commanded more the cordial

affection and attachment of his friends, he had even engaged a person of

that virtue and prudence to entertain thoughts of bringing over part of

his army into England, and of forcing the queen to declare the king

of Scots her successor.[*] And such was Essex’s impatient ardor, that,

though James declined this dangerous expedient, he still endeavored to

persuade Mountjoy not to desist from the project; but the deputy,

who thought that such violence, though it might be prudent, and even

justifiable, when supported by a sovereign prince, next heir to the

crown, would be rash and criminal if attempted by subjects, absolutely

refused his concurrence. The correspondence, however, between Essex

and the court of Scotland was still conducted with great secrecy and

cordiality; and that nobleman, besides conciliating the favor of

James, represented all his own adversaries as enemies to that prince’s

succession, and as men entirely devoted to the interests of Spain, and

partisans of the chimerical title of the infanta.

* Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 471.

The infanta and the archduke Albert had made some advances to the queen

for peace; and Boulogne, as a neutral town, was chosen for the place of

conference. Sir Henry Nevil, the English resident in France, Herbert,

Edmondes, and Beale, were sent thither as ambassadors from England; and

negotiated with Zuniga, Carillo, Richetrdot, and Verheiken, ministers

of Spain and the archduke: but the conferences were soon broken off,

by disputes with regard to the ceremonial. Among the European states,

England had ever been allowed the precedency above Castile, Arragon,

Portugal, and the other kingdoms of which the Spanish monarchy was

composed; and Elizabeth insisted, that this ancient right was not lost

on account of the junction of these states, and that that monarchy in

its present situation, though it surpassed the English in extent as well

as in power, could not be compared with it in point of antiquity, the

only durable and regular foundation of precedency among kingdoms as well

as noble families. That she might show, however, a pacific disposition,

she was content to yield to an equality; but the Spanish ministers, as

their nation had always disputed precedency even with France, to which

England yielded, would proceed no further in the conference till their

superiority of rank were acknowledged.[*] During the preparations for

this abortive negotiation, the earl of Nottingham, the admiral,

Lord Buckhurst, treasurer, and Secretary Cecil, had discovered their

inclination to peace, but as the English nation, flushed with success,

and sanguine in their hopes of plunder and conquest, were in general

averse to that measure, it was easy for a person so popular as Essex

to infuse into the multitude an opinion, that these ministers had

sacrificed the interests of their country to Spain, and would even make

no scruple of receiving a sovereign from that hostile nation.

* Winwood’s Memorials, vol. i. p. 186--226.

{1601.} But Essex, not content with these arts for decrying his

adversaries, proceeded to concert more violent methods of ruining them;

chiefly instigated by Cuffe, his secretary, a man of a bold and arrogant

spirit, who had acquired a great ascendant over his patron. A select

council of malecontents was formed, who commonly met at Drury House,

and were composed of Sir Charles Davers, to whom the house belonged, the

earl of Southampton, Sir Ferdinando Gorges, Sir Christopher Blount, Sir

John Davies, and John Littleton; and Essex, who boasted that he had

a hundred and twenty barons, knights, and gentlemen of note at his

devotion, and who trusted still more to his authority with the populace,

communicated to his associates those secret designs with which his

confidence in so powerful a party had inspired him. Among other criminal

projects, the result of blind rage and despair, he deliberated with them

concerning the method of taking arms; and asked their opinion, whether

he had best begin with seizing the palace or the Tower, or set out with

making himself master at once of both places. The first enterprise being

preferred, a method was concerted for executing it. It was agreed, that

Sir Christopher Blount, with a choice detachment, should possess himself

of the palace gates; that Davies should seize the hall, Davers the guard

chamber and presence chamber; and that Essex should rush in from the

Meuse, attended by a body of his partisans; should entreat the queen,

with all demonstrations of humility, to remove his enemies; should

oblige her to assemble a parliament; and should, with common consent,

settle a new plan of government.[*]

* Camden, p. 630. Birch’s Memoirs vol. ii. p. 464. State

Trials Bacon, vol. iv. p. 542, 543.

While these desperate projects were in agitation, many reasons of

suspicion were carried to the queen; and she sent Robert Sacville,

son of the treasurer, to Essex House, on pretence of a visit, but, in

reality, with a view of discovering whether there were in that place

any unusual concourse of people, or any extraordinary preparations which

might threaten an insurrection. Soon after, Essex received a summons to

attend the council, which met at the treasurer’s house; and while he was

musing on this circumstance, and comparing it with the late unexpected

visit from Sacville, a private note was conveyed to him, by which he

was warned to provide for his own safety. He concluded, that all his

conspiracy was discovered, at least suspected; and that the easiest

punishment which he had reason to apprehend, was a new and more severe

confinement: he therefore excused himself to the council on pretence

of an indisposition; and he immediately despatched messages to his more

intimate confederates, requesting their advice and assistance in the

present critical situation of his affairs. They deliberated, whether

they should abandon all their projects, and fly the kingdom; or

instantly seize the palace with the force which they could assemble; or

rely upon the affections of the citizens, who were generally known to

have a great attachment to the earl. Essex declared against the first

expedient, and professed himself determined to undergo any fate rather

than submit to live the life of a fugitive. To seize the palace seemed

impracticable without more preparations; especially as the queen seemed

now aware of their projects, and, as they heard, had used the precaution

of doubling her ordinary guards. There remained, therefore, no expedient

but that of betaking themselves to the city; and while the prudence and

feasibility of this resolution was under debate, a person arrived, who,

as if he had received a commission for the purpose, gave them assurance

of the affections of the Londoners, and affirmed that they might

securely rest any project on that foundation. The popularity of Essex

had chiefly buoyed him up in all his vain undertakings; and he fondly

imagined, that, with no other assistance than the good will of the

multitude, he might overturn Elizabeth’s government, confirmed by time,

revered for wisdom, supported by vigor, and concurring with the general

sentiments of the nation. The wild project of raising the city was

immediately resolved on; the execution of it was decayed till next day;

and emissaries were despatched to all Essex’s friends, informing

them that Cobham and Raleigh had laid schemes against his life, and

entreating their presence and assistance.

Next day, there appeared at Essex House the earls of Southampton and

Rutland, the lords Sandys and Monteagle, with about three hundred

gentlemen of good quality and fortune; and Essex informed them of the

danger to which, he pretended, the machinations of his enemies exposed

him. To some, he said that he would throw himself at the queen’s feet,

and crave her justice and protection; to others, he boasted of his

interest in the city, and affirmed that, whatever might happen, this

resource could never fail him. The queen was informed of these designs,

by means of intelligence conveyed, as is supposed, to Raleigh by Sir

Ferdinando Gorges; and having ordered the magistrates of London to

keep the citizens in readiness, she sent Egerton, lord keeper; to Essex

House, with the earl of Worcester, Sir William Knollys, comptroller,

and Popham, chief justice, in order to learn the cause of these unusual

commotions. They were with difficulty admitted through a wicket; but

all their servants were excluded, except the purse-bearer. After

some altercation, in which they charged Essex’s retainers, upon their

allegiance, to lay down, their arms, and were menaced in their turn

by the angry multitude who surrounded them, the earl, who found that

matters were past recall, resolved to leave them prisoners in his house,

and to proceed to the execution of his former project. He sallied forth

with about two hundred attendants, armed only with walking swords; and

in his passage to the city was joined by the earl of Bedford and Lord

Cromwell He cried aloud, “For the queen! for the queen! a plot is laid

for my life;” and then proceeded to the house of Smith the sheriff,

on whose aid he had great reliance. The citizens flocked about him in

amazement; but though he told them that England was sold to the infanta,

and exhorted them to arms instantly otherwise they could not do him any

service, no one showed a disposition to join him. The sheriff, on the

earl’s approach to his house, stole out at the back door, and made the

best of his way to the mayor. Essex, meanwhile, observing the coldness

of the citizens, and hearing that he was proclaimed a traitor by the

earl of Cumberland and Lord Burleigh, began to despair of success, and

thought of retreating to his own house. He found the streets in his

passage barricaded and guarded by the citizens under the command of Sir

John Levison. In his attempt to force his way, Tracy, a young gentleman

to whom he bore great friendship, was killed, with two or three of the

Londoners; and the earl himself, attended by a few of his partisans,

(for the greater part began secretly to withdraw themselves,) retired

towards the river, and taking boat, arrived at Essex House. He there

found that Gorges, whom he had sent before to capitulate with the lord

keeper and the other counsellors, had given all of them their liberty,

and had gone to court with them. He was now reduced to despair; and

appeared determined, in prosecution of Lord Sandy’s advice, to defend

himself to the last extremity, and rather to perish like a brave man,

with his sword in his hand, than basely by the hands of the executioner:

but after some parley, and after demanding in vain, first hostages, then

conditions, from the besiegers, he surrendered at discretion; requesting

only civil treatment, and a fair and impartial hearing.[*]

The queen, who, during all this commotion, had behaved with as great

tranquillity and security as if there had only passed a fray in the

streets, in which she was nowise concerned,[**] soon gave orders for the

trial of the most considerable of the criminals.

* Camden p. 632.

** Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 469

The earls of Essex and Southampton were arraigned before a jury of

twenty-five peers, where Buckhurst acted as lord steward. The guilt of

the prisoners was too apparent to admit of any doubt; and, besides the

insurrection known to every body, the treasonable conferences at Drury

House were proved by undoubted evidence. Sir Ferdinando Gorges was

produced in court: the confessions of the earl of Rutland, of the lords

Cromwell, Sandys, and Monteagle, of Davers, Blount, and Davies, were

only read to the peers, according to the practice of that age.

Essex’s best friends were scandalized at his assurance in insisting so

positively on his innocence, and the goodness of his intentions, and

still more at his vindictive disposition, in accusing, without any

appearance of reason, Secretary Cecil as a partisan of the infanta’s

title. The secretary, who had expected this charge, stepped into

the court, and challenged Essex to produce his authority, which, on

examination, was found extremely weak and frivolous.[*]

* Bacon, vol. iv. p. 530.

When sentence was pronounced, Essex spoke like a man who expected

nothing but death; but he added, that he should be sorry if he were

represented to the queen as a person that despised her clemency; though

he should not, he believed, make any cringing submissions to obtain it.

Southampton’s behavior was more mild and submissive; he entreated the

good offices of the peers in so modest and becoming a manner, as excited

compassion in every one.

The most remarkable circumstance in Essex’s trial was Bacon’s appearance

against him. He was none of the crown lawyers; so was not obliged by

his office to assist at this trial: yet did he not scruple, in order to

obtain the queen’s favor, to be active in bereaving of life his friend

and patron, whose generosity he had often experienced. He compared

Essex’s conduct, in pretending to fear the attempts of his adversaries,

to that of Pisistratus the Athenian, who cut and wounded his own body,

and, making the people believe that his enemies had committed the

violence, obtained a guard for his person, by whose assistance he

afterwards subdued the liberties of his country.

After Essex had passed some days in the solitude and reflections of a

prison, his proud heart was at last subdued, not by the fear of death,

but by the sentiments of religion; a principle which he had before

attempted to make the instrument of his ambition, but which now took a

more firm hold of his mind, and prevailed over every other motive and

consideration. His spiritual directors persuaded him, that he never

could obtain the pardon of Heaven, unless he made a full confession

of his disloyalty; and he gave in to the council an account of all

his criminal design, as well as of his correspondence with the king

of Scots. He spared not even his most intimate friends, such as Lord

Mountjoy, whom he had engaged in these conspiracies; and he sought to

pacify his present remorse by making such atonements as, in any other

period of his life, he would have deemed more blamable than those

attempts themselves which were the objects of his penitence.[*]

Sir Henry Nevil, in particular, a man of merit, he accused of a

correspondence with the conspirators though it appears that this

gentleman had never assented to the proposals made him, and was no

further criminal than in not revealing the earl’s treason; an office to

which every man of honor naturally bears the strongest reluctance.[**]

Nevil was thrown into prison, and underwent a severe persecution but as

the queen found Mountjoy an able and successful commander, she continued

him in his government, and sacrificed her resentment to the public

service.

Elizabeth affected extremely the praise of clemency; and in every great

example which she had made during her reign, she had always appeared

full of reluctance and hesitation: but the present situation of Essex

called forth all her tender affections, and kept her in the most

real agitation and irresolution. She felt a perpetual combat between

resentment and inclination, pride and compassion, the care of her own

safety and concern for her favorite; and her situation, during this

interval, was perhaps more an object of pity than that to which Essex

himself was reduced. She signed the warrant for his execution; she

countermanded it; she again resolved on his death; she felt a new return

of tenderness. Essex’s enemies told her, that he himself desired to die,

and had assured her, that she could never be in safety while he lived:

it is likely that this proof of penitence and of concern for her would

produce a contrary effect to what they intended, and would revive all

the fond affection which she had so long indulged towards the unhappy

prisoner. But what chiefly hardened her heart against him was his

supposed obstinacy, in never making, as she hourly expected, any

application to her for mercy; and she finally gave her consent to his

execution. He discovered at his death symptoms rather of penitence

and piety than of fear; and willingly acknowledged the justice of the

sentence by which he suffered. The execution was private in the Tower,

agreeably to his own request. He was apprehensive, he said, lest the

favor and compassion of the people would too much raise his heart in

those moments, when humiliation under the afflicting hand of Heaven was

the only proper sentiment which he could indulge.[***] And the queen no

doubt, thought that prudence required the removing of so melancholy a

spectacle from the public eye.

* Winwood, vol. i. p. 300.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 302.

*** Dr. Barlow’s Sermon on Essex’s Execution. Bacon, vol.

iv. p. 534

Sir Walter Raleigh, who came to the Tower on purpose, and who beheld

Essex’s execution from a window, increased much by this action the

general hatred under which he already labored: it was thought, that his

sole intention was to feast his eyes with the death of an enemy; and

no apology which he could make for so ungenerous a conduct could be

accepted by the public. The cruelty and animosity with which he urged

on Essex’s fate, even when Cecil relented,[*] were still regarded as the

principles of this unmanly behavior.

* Murdin, p. 811.

The earl of Essex was but thirty-four years of age, when his rashness,

imprudence, and violence brought him to this untimely end. We must here,

as in many other instances, lament the inconstancy of human nature,

that a person endowed with so many noble virtues--generosity, sincerity,

friendship, valor, eloquence, and industry--should, in the latter

period of his life, have given reins to his ungovernable passions, and

involved, not only himself, but many of his friends, in utter ruin. The

queen’s tenderness and passion for him, as it was the cause of those

premature honors which he attained, seems, on the whole, the chief

circumstance which brought on his unhappy fate. Confident of her

partiality towards him, as well as of his own merit, he treated her with

a haughtiness which neither her love nor her dignity could bear; and as

her amorous inclinations, in so advanced an age, would naturally make

her appear ridiculous, if not odious, in his eyes, he was engaged, by an

imprudent openness, of which he made profession, to discover too

easily those sentiments to her. The many reconciliations and returns of

affection, of which he had still made advantage, induced him to venture

on new provocations, till he pushed her beyond all bounds of patience;

and he forgot, that though the sentiments of the woman were ever

strong in her, those of the sovereign had still in the end appeared

predominant.

Some of Essex’s associates, Cuffe, Davers, Blount, Meric, and Davies,

were tried and condemned, and all of these except Davies, were

executed. The queen pardoned the rest; being persuaded that they were

drawn in merely from their friendship to that nobleman, and their

care of his safety, and were ignorant of the more criminal part of his

intentions.

Southampton’s life was saved with great difficulty; but he was detained

in prison during the remainder of this reign.

The king of Scots, apprehensive lest his correspondence with Essex might

have been discovered, and have given offence to Elizabeth sent the

earl of Marre and Lord Kinloss as ambassadors to England, in order to

congratulate the queen on her escape from the late insurrection and

conspiracy. They were also ordered to make secret inquiry, whether any

measures had been taken by her for excluding him from the succession,

as well as to discover the inclinations of the chief nobility

and counsellors, in case of the queen’s demise.[*] They found the

dispositions of men as favorable as they could wish; and they even

entered into a correspondence with Secretary Cecil, whose influence,

after the fall of Essex, was now uncontrolled,[**] and who was resolved,

by this policy, to acquire in time the confidence of the successor. He

knew how jealous Elizabeth ever was of her authority, and he therefore

carefully concealed from her his attachment to James: but he afterwards

asserted, that nothing could be more advantageous to her than this

correspondence; because the king of Scots, secure of mounting the throne

by his undoubted title, aided by those connections with the English

ministry was the less likely to give any disturbance to the present

sovereign. He also persuaded that prince to remain in quiet, and

patiently to expect that time should open to him the inheritance of the

crown, without pushing his friends on desperate enterprises, which would

totally incapacitate them from serving him. James’s equity, as well as

his natural facility of disposition, easily inclined him to embrace

that resolution;[***] and in this manner the minds of the English were

silently but universally disposed to admit, without opposition, the

succession of the Scottish line: the death of Essex, by putting an end

to faction, had been rather favorable than prejudicial to that great

event.

The French king, who was little prepossessed in favor of James, and

who, for obvious reasons, was averse to the union of England and

Scotland,[****] made his ambassador drop some hints to Cecil of Henry’s

willingness to concur in any measure for disappointing the hopes of the

Scottish monarch; but as Cecil showed an entire disapprobation of such

schemes.

* Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 510.

** Osborne, p. 615.

*** Spotswood, p. 471, 472

**** Winwood, vol. i. p. 352

The court of France took no further steps in that matter; and thus

the only foreign power which could give much disturbance to James’s

succession, was induced to acquiesce in it.[*]

* Spotswood, p. 471

Henry made a journey this summer to Calais; and the queen, hearing of

his intentions, went to Dover, in hopes of having a personal interview

with a monarch, whom, of all others, she most loved and most respected.

The king of France, who felt the same sentiments towards her, would

gladly have accepted of the proposal; but as many difficulties occurred,

it appeared necessary to lay aside, by common consent, the project of an

interview. Elizabeth, however, wrote successively two letters to Henry,

one by Edmondes, another by Sir Robert Sidney; in which she expressed a

desire of conferring about a business of importance, with some minister

in whom that prince reposed entire confidence. The marquis of Rosni the

king’s favorite and prime minister, came to Dover in disguise; and the

memoirs of that able statesman contain a full account of his conference

with Elizabeth. This princess had formed a scheme for establishing, in

conjunction with Henry, a new system in Europe, and of fixing a durable

balance of power, by the erection of new states on the ruins of the

house of Austria. She had even the prudence to foresee the perils which

might ensue from the aggrandizement of her ally; and she purposed to

unite all the seventeen provinces of the Low Countries in one republic,

in order to form a perpetual barrier against the dangerous increase of

the French as well as of the Spanish monarchy. Henry had himself long

meditated such a project against the Austrian family; and Rosni could

not forbear expressing his astonishment, when he found that Elizabeth

and his master, though they had never communicated their sentiments on

this subject, not only had entered into the same general views, but had

also formed the same plan for their execution. The affairs, however, of

France were not yet brought to a situation which might enable Henry to

begin that great enterprise; and Rosni satisfied the queen that it would

be necessary to postpone for some years their united attack on the house

of Austria. He departed, filled with just admiration at the solidity of

Elizabeth’s judgment, and the greatness of her mind; and he owns, that

she was entirely worthy of that high reputation which she enjoyed in

Europe.

The queen’s magnanimity in forming such extensive projects was the more

remarkable, as, besides her having fallen so far into the decline

of life, the affairs of Ireland, though conducted with abilities and

success, were still in disorder, and made a great diversion of her

forces. The expense incurred by this war lay heavy upon her narrow

revenues; and her ministers, taking advantage of her disposition to

frugality, proposed to her an expedient of saving, which, though she

at first disapproved of it, she was at last induced to embrace. It was

represented to her, that the great sums of money remitted to Ireland

for the pay of the English forces, came, by the necessary course of

circulation, into the hands of the rebels, and enabled them to buy

abroad all necessary supplies of arms and ammunition, which, from the

extreme poverty of that kingdom and its want of every useful commodity,

they could not otherwise find means to purchase. It was therefore

recommended to her, that she should pay her forces in base money; and it

was asserted that, besides the great saving to the revenue, this species

of coin could never be exported with advantage, and would not pass in

any foreign market. Some of her wiser counsellors maintained, that if

the pay of the soldiers were raised in proportion, the Irish rebels

would necessarily reap the same benefit from the base money, which would

always be taken at a rate suitable to its value; if the pay were

not raised, there would be danger of a mutiny among the troops, who,

whatever names might be affixed to the pieces of metal, would soon

find from experience that they were defrauded in their income.[*] But

Elizabeth, though she justly valued herself on fixing the standard of

the English coin, much debased by her predecessors, and had innovated

very little in that delicate article, was seduced by the specious

arguments employed by the treasurer on this occasion; and she coined

a great quantity of base money, which he made use of in the pay of her

forces in Ireland.[**]

* Camden, p. 643

** Rymer, tom, xvi. p. 414.

Mountjoy, the deputy, was a man of abilities; and foreseeing the danger

of mutiny among the troops, he led them instantly into the field, and

resolved, by means of strict discipline, and by keeping them employed

against the enemy, to obviate those inconveniencies which were justly to

be apprehended. He made military roads, and built a fortress at Moghery;

he drove the Mac-Genises out of Lecale; he harassed Tyrone in Ulster

with inroads and lesser expeditions; and by destroying every where,

and during all seasons, the provisions of the Irish, he reduced them to

perish by famine in the woods and morasses, to which they were obliged

to retreat. At the same time, Sir Henry Docwray, who commanded another

body of troops, took the Castle of Derry, and put garrisons into

Newton and Ainogh; and having seized the monastery of Donnegal, near

Balishannon, he threw troops into it, and defended it against the

assaults of O’Donnel and the Irish. Nor was Sir George Carew idle in the

province of Munster. He seized the titular earl of Desmond, and sent him

over, with Florence Macarty, another chieftain, prisoner to England.

He arrested many suspected persons, and took hostages from others. And

having got a reënforcement of two thousand men from England, he threw

himself into Corke, which he supplied with arms and provisions; and he

put every thing in a condition for resisting the Spanish invasion, which

was daily expected. The deputy, informed of the danger to which the

southern provinces were exposed, left the prosecution of the war against

Tyrone, who was reduced to great extremities; and he marched with his

army into Munster.

At last the Spaniards, under Don John d’Aquila, arrived at Kinsale; and

Sir Richard Piercy, who commanded in the town with a small garrison of

a hundred and fifty men, found himself obliged to abandon it on their

appearance. These invaders amounted to four thousand men, and the Irish

discovered a strong propensity to join them, in order to free

themselves from the English government, with which they were extremely

discontented. One chief ground of their complaint, was the introduction

of trials by jury;[*] an institution abhorred by that people, though

nothing contributes more to the support of that equity and liberty for

which the English laws are so justly celebrated.

* Camden, p 644.

The Irish, also, bore a great favor to the Spaniards, having entertained

the opinion that they themselves were descended from that nation;

and their attachment to the Catholic religion proved a new cause of

affection to the invaders. D’Aquila assumed the title of general “in

the holy war for the preservation of the faith” in Ireland; and he

endeavored to persuade the people that Elizabeth was, by several bulls

of the pope, deprived of her crown; that her subjects were absolved from

their oaths of allegiance; and that the Spaniards were come to deliver

the Irish from the dominion of the devil.[*] Mountjoy found it necessary

to act with vigor, in order to prevent a total insurrection of the

Irish; and having collected his forces, he formed the siege of Kinsale

by land, while Sir Richard Levison, with a small squadron, blockaded

it by sea. He had no sooner begun his operations than he heard of the

arrival of another body of two thousand Spaniards under the command of

Alphonso Ocampo, who had taken possession of Baltimore and Berehaven;

and he was obliged to detach Sir George Carew to oppose their progress.

Tyrone, meanwhile, with Randal, Mac-Surley, Tirel, baron of Kelley, and

other chieftains of the Irish, had joined Ocampo with all their forces,

and were marching to the relief of Kinsale. The deputy, informed of

their design by intercepted letters, made preparations to receive them;

and being reenforced by Levison with six hundred marines, he posted his

troops on an advantageous ground, which lay on the passage of the enemy,

leaving some cavalry to prevent a sally from D’Aquila and the Spanish

garrison. When Tyrone, with a detachment of Irish and Spaniards,

approached, he was surprised to find the English so well posted, and

ranged in good order, and he immediately sounded a retreat: but the

deputy gave orders to pursue him; and having thrown these advanced

troops into disorder, he followed them to the main body, whom he

also attacked and put to flight, with the slaughter of twelve hundred

men.[**] Ocampo was taken prisoner; Tyrone fled into Ulster; O’Donnel

made his escape into Spain; and D’Aquila, finding himself reduced to the

greatest difficulties, was obliged to capitulate upon such terms as

the deputy prescribed to him; he surrendered Kinsale and Baltimore,

and agreed to evacuate the kingdom. This great blow, joined to other

successes gained by Wlimot, governor of Kerry, and by Roger and Gavin

Harvey, threw the rebels into dismay, and gave a prospect of the final

reduction of Ireland.

The Irish war, though successful, was extremely burdensome on the

queen’s revenue; and besides the supplies granted by parliament,

which were indeed very small, but which they ever regarded as mighty

concessions, she had been obliged, notwithstanding her great frugality,

to employ other expedients, such as selling the royal demesnes and

crown jewels,[***] and exacting loans from the people,[****] in order

to support this cause, so essential to the honor and interests of

England.

* Camden, p. 645.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 369.

*** D’Ewes, p. 629.

**** D’Ewes, p. 629.

The necessity of her affairs obliged her again to summon a parliament;

and it here appeared, that though old age was advancing fast upon her,

though she had lost much of her popularity by the unfortunate execution

of Essex, insomuch that when she appeared in public she was not attended

with the usual acclamations,[*] yet the powers of her prerogative,

supported by her vigor, still remained as high and uncontrollable as

ever.

The active reign of Elizabeth had enabled many persons to distinguish

themselves in civil and military employments; and the queen, who was

not able from her revenue to give them any rewards proportioned to their

services, had made use of an expedient which had been employed by her

predecessors, but which had never been carried to such an extreme as

under her administration. She granted her servants and courtiers patents

for monopolies; and these patents they sold to others, who were thereby

enabled to raise commodities to what price they pleased, and who put

invincible restraints upon all commerce, industry, and emulation in the

arts. It is astonishing to consider the number and importance of those

commodities which were thus assigned over to patentees. Currants, salt,

iron, powder, cards, calf-skins, fells, pouldavies, ox-shin-bones, train

oil, lists of cloth, potashes, aniseseeds, vinegar, seacoals, steel,

aquavitæ, brushes, pots, bottles, saltpetre, lead, accidences, oil,

calamine stone, oil of blubber, glasses, paper, starch, tin, sulphur,

new drapery, dried pilchards, transportation of iron ordnance, of beer,

of horn, of leather, importation of Spanish wool, of Irish yarn:

these are but a part of the commodities which had been appropriated to

monopolists.[**] When this list was read in the house, a member cried,

“Is not bread in the number?” “Bread,” said every one with astonishment.

“Yes, I assure you,” replied he, “if affairs go on at this rate, we

shall have bread reduced to a monopoly before next parliament.” [***]

These monopolists were so exorbitant in their demands, that in some

places they raised the price of salt from sixteen pence a bushel, to

fourteen or fifteen shillings.[****]

* D’Ewes, p 629. Osborne, p. 604.

** D’Ewes, p 648, 650, 652.

*** D’Ewes, p. 648.

**** D’Ewes, p. 647.

Such high profits naturally begat intruders upon their commerce; and

in order to secure themselves against encroachments, the patentees were

armed with high and arbitrary powers from the council, by which they

were enabled to oppress the people at pleasure, and to exact money

from such as they thought proper to accuse of interfering with their

patent.[*] The patentees of saltpetre, having the power of entering

into every house, and of committing what havoc they pleased in stables,

cellars, or wherever they suspected saltpetre might be gathered,

commonly extorted money from those who desired to free themselves from

this damage or trouble.[**] And while all domestic intercourse was thus

restrained, lest any scope should remain for industry, almost every

species of foreign commerce was confined to exclusive companies, who

bought and sold at any price that they themselves thought proper to

offer or exact.

These grievances, the most intolerable for the present, and the most

pernicious in their consequences, that ever were known in any age or

under any government, had been mentioned in the last parliament, and

a petition had even been presented to the queen, complaining of the

patents; but she still persisted in defending her monopolists against

her people. A bill was now introduced into the lower house, abolishing

all these monopolies; and as the former application had been

unsuccessful, a law was insisted on as the only certain expedient for

correcting these abuses. The courtiers, on the other hand, maintained,

that this matter regarded the prerogative, and that the commons could

never hope for success, if they did not make application, in the most

humble and respectful manner, to the queen’s goodness and beneficence.

The topics which were advanced in the house, and which came equally from

the courtiers and the country gentlemen, and were admitted by both, will

appear the most extraordinary to such as are prepossessed with an idea

of the privileges enjoyed by the people during that age, and of the

liberty possessed under the administration of Elizabeth. It was asserted

that the queen inherited both an enlarging and a restraining power; by

her prerogative she might set at liberty what was restrained by statute

or otherwise, and by her prerogative she might restrain what was

otherwise at liberty:[***] that the royal prerogative was not to be

canvassed, nor disputed, nor examined;[****] and did not even admit of

any limitation.[v]

* D’Ewes, p. 644, 646, 652.

** D’Ewes, p. 653.

*** D’Ewes, p. 644, 675.

**** D’Ewes, p. 644, 649.

v D’Ewes, p. 646. 654.

That absolute princes, such as the sovereigns of England, were a species

of divinity;[*] that it was in vain to attempt tying the queen’s hands

by laws or statutes; since, by means of her dispensing power, she could

loosen herself at pleasure:[**] and that even if a clause should be

annexed to a statute, excluding her dispensing power, she could first

dispense with that clause and then with the statute.[***] After all this

discourse, more worthy of a Turkish divan than of an English house of

commons, according to our present idea of this assembly, the queen, who

perceived how odious monopolies had become, and what heats were likely

to arise, sent for the speaker, and desired him to acquaint the house,

that she would immediately cancel the most grievous and oppressive of

these patents.[****] [38]

The house was struck with astonishment, and admiration and gratitude, at

this extraordinary instance of the queen’s goodness and condescension.

A member said, with tears in his eyes, that if a sentence of everlasting

happiness had been pronounced in his favor, he could not have felt more

joy than that with which he was at present over whelmed.[v] Another

observed, that this message from the sacred person of the queen was a

kind of gospel or glad tidings, and ought to be received as such, and be

written in the tablets of their hearts.[v*] And it was further remarked,

that in the same manner as the Deity would not give his glory to

another, so the queen herself was the only agent in their present

prosperity and happiness.[v**] The house voted, that the speaker, with

a committee, should ask permission to wait on her majesty, and return

thanks to her for her gracious concessions to her people.

When the speaker, with the other members, was introduced to the queen,

they all flung themselves on their knees, and remained in that posture

a considerable time, till she thought proper to express her desire that

they should rise.[v***]

* D’Ewes, p. 649.

** D’Ewes, p. 649.

*** D’Ewes, p. 640, 646.

**** See note LL, at the end of the volume.

v D’Ewes, p. 654.

v* D’Ewes, p. 656.

v** D’Ewes, p. 657.

v*** We learn from Hentzner’s Travels, that no one spoke to

Queen Elizabeth without kneeling; though now and then she

raised some with waving her hand. Nay, wherever she turned

her eye, every one fell on his knees. Her successor first

allowed his courtiers to omit this ceremony; and as he

exerted not the power, so he relinquished the appearance of

despotism. Even when Queen Elizabeth was absent, those who

covered her table, though persons of quality, neither

approached it nor retired from it without kneeling, and that

often three times.

The speaker displayed the gratitude of the commons, because her sacred

ears were ever open to hear them, and her blessed hands ever stretched

out to relieve them. They acknowledged, he said, in all duty and

thankfulness acknowledged, that, before they called, her “preventing

grace” and “all-deserving goodness” watched over them for their good;

more ready to give than they could desire, much less deserve. He

remarked, that the attribute which was most proper to God, to perform

all he promiseth, appertained also to her; and that she was all

truth, all constancy, and all goodness. And he concluded with these

expressions: “Neither do we present our thanks in words or any outward

sign, which can be no sufficient retribution for so great goodness; but

in all duty and thankfulness, prostrate at your feet, we present our

most loyal and thankful hearts, even the last drop of blood in our

hearts, and the last spirit of breath in our nostrils, to be poured out,

to be breathed up, for your safety.” [*]

* D’Ewes, p. 658, 659.

The queen heard very patiently this speech, in which she was flattered

in phrases appropriated to the Supreme Being; and she returned an answer

full of such expressions of tenderness towards her people, as ought to

have appeared fulsome after the late instances of rigor which she had

employed, and from which nothing but necessity had made her depart. Thus

was this critical affair happily terminated; and Elizabeth, by prudently

receding, in time, from part of her prerogative, maintained her dignity,

and preserved the affections of her people.

The commons granted her a supply quite unprecedented, of four subsidies

and eight fifteenths; and they were so dutiful as to vote this supply

before they received any satisfaction in the business of monopolies,

which they justly considered as of the utmost importance to the

interest and happiness of the nation. Had they attempted to extort that

concession by keeping the supply in suspense, so haughty was the queen’s

disposition, that this appearance of constraint and jealousy had been

sufficient to have produced a denial of all their requests, and to have

forced her into some acts of authority still more violent and arbitrary.

{1602.} The remaining events of this reign are neither numerous nor

important. The queen, finding that the Spaniards had involved her in so

much trouble, by fomenting and assisting the Irish rebellion, resolved

to give them employment at home; and she fitted out a squadron of nine

ships, under Sir Richard Levison, admiral, and Sir William Monson,

vice-admiral, whom she sent on an expedition to the coast of Spain.

The admiral, with part of the squadron, met the galleons loaded with

treasure; but was not strong enough to attack them. The vice-admiral

also fell in with some rich ships, but they escaped for a like reason;

and these two brave officers, that their expedition might not prove

entirely fruitless, resolved to attack the harbor of Cerimbra, in

Portugal; where, they received intelligence, a very rich carrack had

taken shelter. The harbor was guarded by a castle: there were eleven

galleys stationed in it; and the militia of the country, to the number,

as was believed, of twenty thousand men, appeared in arms on the shore:

yet, notwithstanding these obstacles, and others derived from the winds

and tides, the English squadron broke into the harbor, dismounted the

guns of the castle, sunk, or burnt, or put to flight the galleys, and

obliged the carrack to surrender.[*] They brought her home to England,

and she was valued at a million of ducats:[**] a sensible loss to the

Spaniards, and a supply still more important to Elizabeth.[***]

* Monson, p. 181.

* Camden, p. 647.

* This year the Spaniards began the siege of Ostend, which

was bravely defended for five months by Sir Francis Vere.

The states then relieved him, by sending a new governor; and

on the whole, the siege lasted three years, and is computed

to have cost the lives of one hundred thousand men.

The affairs of Ireland, after the defeat of Tyrone and the expulsion of

the Spaniards, hastened to a settlement. Lord Mountjoy divided his army

into small parties, and harassed the rebels on every side: he built

Charlemont and many other small forts, which were impregnable to the

Irish, and guarded all the important passes of the country: the activity

of Sir Henry Docwray and Sir Arthur Chichester permitted no repose

or security to the rebels; and many of the chieftains, after skulking

during some time in woods and morasses, submitted to mercy, and received

such conditions as the deputy was pleased to impose upon them.

{1603.} Tyrone himself made application by Arthur Mac-Baron, his

brother, to be received upon terms; but Mountjoy would not admit him,

except he made an absolute surrender of his life and fortunes to the

queen’s mercy. He appeared before the deputy at Millefont, in a habit

and posture suitable to his present fortune; and after acknowledging

his offence in the most humble terms, he was committed to custody by

Mountjoy, who intended to bring him over captive into England, to be

disposed of at the queen’s pleasure.