Courteous Reader, for my own fault, I refer thee to my Preface, but for
the Printer's, I crave pardon. The excuse is just, if thou knew the
cause. I desire thee therefore to correct the greater [faults], thus;
the lesser, of thyself; and to pardon all.
[The corrections have been embodied in the text. E.A.]
Sir ROBERT CAREY,
Lord Warden of the Middle Marches;
and afterwards Earl of MONMOUTH.
_Account of the Death of Queen ELIZABETH; and of
his ride to King JAMES at Edinburgh,
25th-27th March 1603._
[_Memoirs_, pp. 135-156; written about 1627,
but first published by Lord CORK in 1759.]
IN this state was this Middle March when JAMES came in King of
England: and in all the time I continued Officer there, GOD so blessed
me and all the actions I took in hand, that I never failed of any one
enterprise: but they were all effected to my own desire and the good of
that Government. Thus passed I forty-two of my years; [? 1560-1602],
GOD assisting with his blessing and mighty protection.
After that all things were quieted and the Border in safety, towards
the end of five years [1598-1603] that I had been Warden there; having
little to do, I resolved upon a journey to Court, to see my friends and
renew my acquaintance there. I took my journey about the end of the
year [_which, according to the old reckoning, ended on the 24th March:
say then, March 1603_].
When I came to Court [_at Richmond_], I found the Queen ill disposed,
and she kept her inner lodging.
Yet she, hearing of my arrival, sent for me.
I found her in one of her withdrawing chambers, sitting low upon her
cushions. She called me to her.
I kissed her hand, and told her, It was my chiefest happiness to see
her in safety and health, which I wished might long continue.
She took me by the hand, and wrung it hard; and said "No,
ROBIN, I am not well!" and then discoursed with me of her
indisposition, and that her heart had been sad and heavy for ten or
twelve days: and, in her discourse, she fetched not so few as forty or
fifty great sighs.
I was grieved, at the first, to see her in this plight: for, in all my
lifetime before, I never knew her fetch a sigh, but when the Queen of
Scots was beheaded. Then [in 1587], upon my knowledge, she shed many
tears and sighs; manifesting her innocence that she never gave consent
to the death of that Queen.
I used the best words I could to persuade her from this melancholy
humour; but I found, by her, it was too deep rooted in her heart; and
hardly to be removed.
This was upon a Saturday night [? _19th March 1603_]: and she gave
command that the Great Closet should be prepared for her to go to
Chapel the next morning.
The next day, all things being in a readiness; we long expected her
coming.
After eleven o'clock, one of the Grooms [of the Chambers] came out, and
bade make ready for the Private Closet; for she would not go to the
Great.
There we stayed long for her coming: but at last she had cushions laid
for her in the Privy Chamber, hard by the Closet door; and there she
heard service.
* * * * *
From that day forwards, she grew worse and worse. She remained upon her
cushions four days and nights, [? _Saturday 19th to Tuesday 22nd March
1603_] at the least. All about her could not persuade her, either to
take any sustenance, or [to] go to bed.
* * * * *
I, hearing that neither her Physicians, nor none about her, could
persuade her to take any course for her safety, feared her death would
soon after ensue. I could not but think in what a wretched estate
I should be left: most of my livelihood depending on her life. And
hereupon I bethought myself with what grace and favour I was ever
received by the King of Scots, whensoever I was sent to him. I did
assure myself it was neither unjust, nor unhonest, for me to do for
myself; if GOD, at that time, should call her to his mercy. Hereupon
I wrote to the King of Scots, knowing him to be the right heir to the
Crown of England; and certified him in what state Her Majesty was. I
desired him not to stir from Edinburgh: and if, of that sickness she
should die, I would be the first man that should bring him news of it.
* * * * *
The Queen grew worse and worse, because she would be so: none
about her being able to persuade her to go to bed. [The Earl of
NOTTINGHAM] my Lord Admiral was sent for: who (by reason of my
sister [CATHARINE]'s death, that was his wife) had absented
himself some fortnight from [the] Court.
What by fair means, what by force, he gat her to bed. There was no hope
of her recovery, because she refused all remedies.
* * * * *
On Wednesday, the 23rd of March [1603], she grew speechless. That
afternoon, by signs, she called for her [Privy] Council: and by putting
her hand to her head, when the King of Scots was named to succeed her,
they all knew he was the man she desired should reign after her.
About six at night, she made signs for [JOHN WHITGIFT] the
Archbishop, and her Chaplains to come to her. At which time, I went in
with them; and sat upon my knees full of tears to see that heavy sight.
Her Majesty lay upon her back; with one hand in the bed, and the other
without.
The [Arch]bishop kneeled down by her, and examined her first of her
faith: and she so punctually answered all his several questions by
lifting up her eyes, and holding up her hand, as it was a comfort to
all beholders.
Then the good man told her plainly, What she was; and What she was to
come to: and though she had been long a great Queen here upon earth;
yet shortly she was to yield an account of her stewardship to the King
of Kings.
After this, he began to pray: and all that were by did answer him.
After he had continued long in prayer, till the old man's knees were
weary, he blessed her, and meant to rise and leave her.
The Queen made a sign with her hand.
My sister [PHILADELPHIA, Lady] SCROOPE, knowing her
meaning, told the Bishop, The Queen desired he would pray still.
He did so for a long half-hour after; and then thought to have left her.
The second time she made sign to have him continue in prayer.
He did so for half an hour more, with earnest cries to GOD for her
soul's health; which he uttered with that fervency of spirit as the
Queen, to all our sight, much rejoiced thereat: and gave testimony to
us all, of her Christian and comfortable end.
By this time, it grew late; and every one departed: all but her Women
that attended her.
This that I heard with my ears, and did see with my eyes, I thought it
my duty to set down, and to affirm it for a truth upon the faith of a
Christian; because I know there have been many false lies reported of
the end and death of that good Lady.
* * * * *
I went to my lodging, and left word with one in the Cofferer's Chamber
to call me, if that night it was thought she would die; and gave the
Porter an angel [_10s. = £2 now_] to let me in at any time, when I
called.
* * * * *
Between one and two of the clock on Thursday morning [25th March 1603],
he that I left in the Cofferer's Chamber, brought me word, "The Queen
was dead."