shewed itself clearly enough in the treatment of her nobles, and of all
that came within the verge of the court. Her caprice, and jealousy,
and haughtiness, appeared in a thousand instances. She took offence so
easily, and forgave so difficultly, that even her principal ministers
could hardly keep their ground, and were often obliged to redeem her
favour by the lowest submissions. When nothing else would do, they
sickened, and were even at death’s door: from which peril, however, she
would sometimes relieve them; but not till she had exacted from them,
in the way of penance, a course of the most mortifying humiliations.
Nay, the very ladies of her court had no way to maintain their credit
with her, but by, submitting patiently to the last indignities.
It is allowed, from the instances you have in view, returned Dr.
ARBUTHNOT, that her nature was something high and imperious. But these
sallies of passion might well enough consist with her general character
of affability.
Hardly, as I conceive, answered Mr. ADDISON, if you reflect that
these sallies, or rather habits of passion, were the daily terror and
vexation of all about her. Her very minions seemed raised for no other
purpose, than the exercise of her ill-humour. They were encouraged, by
her smile, to presume on the royal countenance, and then beaten down
again in punishment of that presumption. But, to say the truth, the
slavish temper of the time was favourable to such exertions of female
caprice and tyranny. Her imperious father, all whose virtues, she
inherited, had taught her a sure way to quell the spirit of her nobles.
They had been long used to stand in awe of the royal frown. And the
people were pleased to find their betters ruled with so high a hand,
at a time when they themselves were addressed with every expression of
respect, and even flattery.
She even carried this mockery so far, that, as HARRINGTON observes
well, “she converted her reign, through the perpetual love-tricks
that passed between her and her people, into a kind of romance.” And
though that political projector, in prosecution of his favourite
notion, supposes the queen to have been determined to these intrigues
by observing, that the weight of property was fallen into the popular
scale; yet we need look no further for an account of this proceeding,
than the inherent haughtiness of her temper. She gratified the
insolence of her nature, in neglecting, or rather beating down, her
nobility, whose greatness might seem to challenge respect: while the
court, she paid to the people, revolted her pride less, as passing only
upon herself, as well as others, for a voluntary act of affability.
Just as we every day see very proud men carry it with much loftiness
towards their equals, or those who and raised to some nearness of
degree to themselves; at the same time that they affect a sort of
courtesy to such, as are confessedly beneath them.
You see, then, what her boasted affability comes to. She gave good
words to her people, whom it concerned her to be well with, and whom
her pride itself allowed her to _manage_: she insulted her nobles, whom
she had in her power, and whose abasement flattered the idea, she doted
upon, of her own superiority and importance[93].
Let the queen’s manner of treating her subjects be what it would, Dr.
ARBUTHNOT said, it appears to have given no offence in those days,
when the sincerity of her intentions was never questioned. Her whole
life is a convincing argument; that she bore the most entire affection
to her people.
HER LOVE OF HER PEOPLE, returned Mr. ADDISON hastily, is with me a very
questionable virtue. For what account shall we give of the multitude of
penal statutes, passed in her reign? Or, because you will say, there
was some colour for these; what excuse shall we make for her frequent
grants of monopolies, so ruinous to the public wealth and happiness,
and so perpetually complained of by her parliaments? You will say,
she recalled them. She did so. But not till the general indignation
had, in a manner, forced her to recall them. If by her _people_, be
meant those of the poorer and baser sort only, it may be allowed, she
seemed on all occasions willing to spare them. But for those of better
rank and fortune, she had no such consideration. On the other hand,
she contrived in many ways to pillage and distress them. It was the
tameness of that time, to submit to every imposition of the sovereign.
She had only to command her gentry on any service she thought fit, and
they durst not decline it. How many of her wealthiest and best subjects
did she impoverish by these means (though under colour, you may be
sure, of her high favour); and sometimes by her very visits! I will not
be certain, added he, that her visit to this pompous castle of her own
LEICESTER, had any other intention.
But what, above all, are we to think of her vow of celibacy, and her
obstinate refusal to settle the succession, though at the constant
hazard of the public peace and safety?
You are hard put to it, I perceive, interrupted. Dr. ARBUTHNOT, to
impeach the character of the queen in this instance, when a few penal
laws, necessary to the support of her crown in that time of danger; one
wrong measure of her government, and that corrected; the ordinary use
of her prerogative; and even her virginity; are made crimes of. But I
am curious to hear what you have to object to her ZEAL FOR THE ENGLISH
GLORY, carried so high in her reign; and the single point, as it seems
to me, to which all her measures and all her counsels were directed.
The _English_ glory, Mr. ADDISON said, may, perhaps, mean the state and
independency of the crown. And then, indeed, I have little to object.
But, in any other sense of the word, I have sometimes presumed to
question with myself, if it had not been better consulted, by more
effectual assistance of the Reformed on the Continent; by a more
vigorous prosecution of the war against _Spain_[94]; as I hinted
before, by a more complete reduction of _Ireland_. But say, we are
no judges of those high matters. What glory accrued to the _English_
name, by the insidious dealing with the queen of _Scots_; by the
vindictive proceedings against the duke of _Norfolk_; by the merciless
persecutions of the unhappy earl of _Essex_? The same spirit, you see,
continued from the beginning of this reign to the end of it. And the
observation is the better worth attending to, because some have excused
the queen’s treatment of ESSEX by saying, “That her nature, in that
decline of life, was somewhat clouded by apprehensions; as the horizon,
they observe, in the evening of the brightest day, is apt to be
obscured by vapours[95].” As if this fanciful simile, which illustrates
perhaps, could excuse, the perverseness of the queen’s temper; or, as
if that could deserve to pass for an incident of age, which operated
through life; and so declares itself to have been the proper result of
her nature.
You promised, interposed Dr. ARBUTHNOT, not to pry too closely into
the secrets of the cabinet. And such I must needs esteem the points
to be, which you have mentioned. But enough of these beaten topics.
I would rather attend you in the survey you promised to take of her
court, and of the princely qualities that adorned it. It is from what
passes in the inside of his palace, rather than from some questionable
public acts, that the real character of a prince is best determined.
And there, methinks, you have a scene opened to you, that deserves your
applause. Nothing appears but what is truly royal. Nobody knew better,
than ELIZABETH, how to support the decorum of her rank. She presided
in that high orb with the dignity of a great queen. In all emergencies
of danger, she shewed a firmness, and, on all occasions of ceremony,
a magnificence, that commanded respect and admiration. Her very
diversions were tempered with a severity becoming her sex and place,
and which made her court, even in its lightest and gayest humours, a
school of virtue.
These are the points, concluded he, I could wish you to speak to. The
rest may be left to the judgment of the historian, or rather to the
curiosity of the nice and critical politician.
You shall be obeyed, Mr. ADDISON said. I thought it not amiss to
take off the glare of those applauded qualities, which have dazzled
the public at a distance, by shewing that they were either feigned
or over-rated. But I come now to unmask the real character of this
renowned princess. I shall paint her freely indeed, but truly as she
appears to me. And, to speak my mind at once; I think it is not so
much to her virtues, which at best were equivocal, as to her very
VICES, that we are to impute the popular admiration of her character
and government.
I before took notice of the high, indecent PASSION, she discovered
towards her courtiers. This fierceness of temper in the softer sex was
taken for heroism; and, falling in with the slavish principles of the
age, begot a degree of reverence in her subjects, which a more equal,
that is a more becoming, deportment would not have produced. Hence, she
was better served than most of our princes, only because she was more
feared; in other words, because she less deserved to be so. But high as
she would often carry herself in this unprincely, I had almost said,
unwomanly, treatment of her servants; awing the men by her oaths, and
her women by blows; it is still to be remembered, that she had a great
deal of natural TIMIDITY in her constitution.
What! interrupted Dr. ARBUTHNOT hastily, the magnanimous ELIZABETH
a coward? I should as soon have expected that charge against CÆSAR
himself, or your own MARLBOROUGH.
I distinguish, Mr. ADDISON said, betwixt a parade of courage, put on to
serve a turn, and keep her people in spirits, and that true greatness
of mind, which, in one word, we call _magnanimity_. For this last,
I repeat it, she either had it not, or not in the degree in which
it has been ascribed to her. On the contrary, I see a littleness,
a pusillanimity, in her conduct on a thousand occasions. Hence it
was, that both to her people and such of the neighbouring states as
she stood in awe of, she used an excessive hypocrisy, which, in the
language of the court, you may be sure, was called policy. To the
_Hollanders_, indeed, she could talk big; and it was not her humour to
manage those over whom she had gained an ascendant. This has procured
her, with many, the commendation of a princely magnanimity. But, on the
other hand, when discontents were apprehended from her subjects, or
when _France_ was to be diverted from any designs against her, no art
was forgotten that might cajole their spirits with all the professions
of cordiality and affection. Then she was _wedded_, that was the tender
word, to her people: and then the interest of religion itself was
sacrificed by this Protestant queen to her newly-perverted brother on
the Continent.
Her foible, in this respect, was no secret to her ministers. But, above
all, it was practised upon most successfully by the Lord BURGHLEY; “for
whom, as I have seem it observed, it was as necessary that there should
be treasons, as for the state that they should be prevented[96].” Hence
it was, that he was perpetually raising her fears, by the discovery
of some plot, or, when that was wanting, by the proposal of some
law for her greater security. In short, he was for ever finding, or
making, or suggesting, dangers. The queen, though she would look big
(for indeed she was an excellent actress), startled at the shadows of
those dangers, the slightest rumours. And to this convenient timidity
of his mistress, so constantly alarmed, and relieved in turn by this
wily minister, was owing, in a good degree, that long and unrivalled
interest, he held in her favour.
Still, further, to this constitutional _fear_ (which might be forgiven
to her sex, if it had not been so strangely mixed with a more than
masculine ferocity in other instances) must be ascribed those favourite
maxims of policy, which ran through her whole government. Never was
prince more attached to the Machiavelian doctrine, DIVIDE ET IMPERA,
than our ELIZABETH[97]. It made the soul of her policies, domestic
and foreign. She countenanced the two prevailing factions of the time.
The Churchmen and Puritans divided her favour so equally, that her
favourites were sure to be the chiefs of the contending parties. Nay,
her court was a constant scene of cabals and personal animosities. She
gave a secret, and sometimes an open, countenance to these jealousies.
The same principle directed all her foreign[98] negociations.
And are you not aware, interrupted Dr. ARBUTHNOT, that this objected
policy is the very topic that I, and every other admirer of the
queen, would employ in commendation of her great ability in the art
of government? It has been the fate of too many of our princes (and
perhaps some late examples might be given) to be governed, and even
insulted, by a prevailing party of their own subjects. ELIZABETH was
superior to such attempts. She had no bye-ends to pursue. She frankly
threw herself on her people. And, secure in their affection, could
defeat at pleasure, or even divert herself with, the intrigues of this
or that aspiring faction.
We understand you, Mr. ADDISON replied; but when two parties are
contending within a state, and one of them only in its true interest,
the policy is a little extraordinary that should incline the sovereign
to discourage _this_, from the poor ambition of controuling _that_, or,
as you put it still worse, from the dangerous humour of playing with
_both_ parties. I say nothing of later times. I only ask; if it was
indifferent, whether the counsels of the CECILS or of LEICESTER were
predominant in that reign? But I mentioned these things before, and I
touch them again now, only to shew you, that this conduct, however it
may be varnished over by the name of wisdom, had too much the air of
fearful womanish intrigue, to consist with that heroical firmness and
intrepidity so commonly ascribed to queen ELIZABETH[99].
And what if, after all, I should admit, replied Dr. ARBUTHNOT, that, in
the composition of a woman’s courage, at least, there might be some
scruples of discretion? Is there any advantage, worth contending for,
you could draw from such a concession? Or, because you would be thought
serious, I will put the matter more gravely. The arts of prudence,
you arraign so severely, could not be taken for pusillanimity. They
certainly were not, in her own time; for she was not the less esteemed
or revered by all the nations of _Europe_ on account of them. The most
you can fairly conclude is, that she knew how to unite address with
bravery, and that, on occasion, she could _dissemble_ her high spirit.
The difficulties of her situation obliged her to this management.
Rather say at once, returned Mr. ADDISON, that the constant
dissimulation, for which she was so famous, was assumed to supply
the want of a better thing, which had rendered all those arts as
unnecessary as they were ignoble.
But _haughtiness_ and _timidity_, pursued he, were not the only vices
that turned to good account in the queen’s hands. She was frugal
beyond all bounds of decorum in a prince, or rather AVARICIOUS beyond
all reasonable excuse from the public wants and the state of her
revenue. Nothing is more certain than this fact, from the allowance
both of friends and enemies. It seems as if, in this respect, her
father’s example had not been sufficient; and that, to complete her
character, she had incorporated with many of his, the leading vice of
her grandfather.
Here Dr. ARBUTHNOT could not contain himself; and the castle happening
at that time, from the point where they stood, to present the most
superb prospect, “Look there, said he, on the striking, though small,
remnants of that grandeur you just now magnified so much; and tell me
if, in your conscience, you can believe such grants are the signs,
or were the effects, of avarice. For you are not to learn, that this
palace before us is not the only one in the kingdom, which bears the
memory of the queen’s bounty to her servants.”
Mr. ADDISON seemed a little struck with the earnestness of this
address: “It is true, said he, the queen’s fondness for one or two of
her favourites made her sometimes lavish of her grants; especially
of what cost her nothing, and did not, it seems, offend the delicacy
of her scruples; I mean, of the _church-lands_. But at the same time
her treasury was shut against her ambassadors and foreign ministers;
who complain of nothing more frequently than the slenderness of their
appointments, and the small and slow remittances that were made
to them. This frugality (for I must not call it by a worse name)
distressed the public service on many occasions[100]; and would have
done it on more, if the zeal of her trusty servants had not been
content to carry it on at the expence of their own fortunes. How many
instances might be given of this, if ONE were not more than sufficient,
and which all posterity will remember with indignation!
You speak of WALSINGHAM, interposed Dr. ARBUTHNOT. But were it not more
candid to impute the poverty of that minister to his own generous
contempt of riches, which he had doubtless many, fair occasions of
procuring to himself, than to any designed neglect of him by his
mistress?
The candour, returned Mr. ADDISON, must be very extraordinary, that
can find an excuse for the queen in a circumstance that doubles her
disgrace. But be it as you pretend. The uncommon moderation of the
man shall be a cover to the queen’s parsimony. It was not, we will
say, for this wise princess to provoke an appetite for wealth in her
servants: it was enough that she gratified it, on proper occasions,
where she found it already raised. And in this proceeding, no doubt,
she was governed by a tender regard, for their honour, as well as her
own interest. For how is her great secretary ennobled, by filling a
place in the short list of those worthies, who, having lived and died
in the service of their countries, have left not so much as a pittance
behind them, to carry them to their graves! All this is very well. But
when she had indulged this humour in one or two of her favourites,
and suffered them, for example’s sake, to ascend to these heights of
honour, it was going, methinks, a little too far, to expect the same
delicacy of virtue in all her courtiers. Yet it was not her fault, if
most of them did not reap this fame of illustrious poverty, as well as
WALSINGHAM. She dealt by them, indeed, as if she had ranked poverty, as
well as celibacy, among the cardinal virtues.
In the mean time, I would not deny that she had a princely fondness for
shew and appearance. She took a pride in the brilliancy of her court.
She delighted in the large trains of her nobility. She required to be
royally entertained by them. And she thought her honour concerned in
the figure they made in foreign courts, and in the wars. But, if she
loved this pomp, she little cared to furnish the expence of it. She
considered in good earnest (as some have observed, who would have the
observation pass for a compliment[101]) _the purses of her subjects
as her own_; and seemed to reckon on their being always open to her on
any occasion of service, or even ceremony. She carried this matter so
far, that the very expences of her wars were rather defrayed out of the
private purses of her nobility, than the public treasury. As if she had
taken it for a part of her _prerogative_ to impoverish her nobles at
pleasure; or rather, as if she had a mind to have it thought that one
of their _privileges_ was, to be allowed to ruin themselves from a zeal
to her service.
But the queen’s avarice, proceeded he, did not only appear from her
excessive parsimony in the management of the public treasure, but from
her rapacity in getting what she could from particulars into her privy
purse. Hence it was that all offices, and even personal favours, were
in a manner set to sale. For it was a rule with her majesty, to grant
no suit but for a reasonable consideration. So that whoever pretended
to any place of profit or honour was sure to send a jewel, or other
rich present beforehand, to prepare her mind for the entertainment
of his petition. And to what other purpose was it that she kept her
offices so long vacant, but to give more persons an opportunity of
winning a preference in her favour; which for the most part inclined
to those who had appeared, in this interval, to deserve it best? Nay,
the slightest disgust, which she frequently took on very frivolous
occasions, could not be got over but by the reconciling means of some
valuable or well fancied present. And, what was most grievous, she
sometimes accepted the present, without remitting the offence.
I remember a ridiculous instance of this sort. When the Lady LEICESTER
wanted to obtain the pardon of her unfortunate son, the Lord ESSEX, she
presented the queen with an exceeding rich gown, to the value of above
an hundred pounds. She was well pleased with the gift, but thought no
more of the pardon. We need not, after this, wonder at what is said of
her majesty’s leaving a prodigious quantity of jewels and plate behind
her, and even a _crowded wardrobe_. For so prevalent was this thrifty
humour in the queen’s highness, that she could not persuade herself to
part with so much, as a cast-gown to any of her servants[102].
You allow yourself to be very gay, replied Dr. ARBUTHNOT, on this
foible of the great queen. But one thing you forget, that it never
biased her judgment so far as to prevent a fit choice of her servants
on all occasions[103]. And, as to her wary management of the public
revenue, which you take a pleasure to exaggerate, this, methinks, is
a venial fault in a prince, who could not, in her circumstances; have
provided for the expences of government, but by the nicest and most
attentive economy.
I understand, said Mr. ADDISON, the full force of that consideration;
and believe it was that _attention_ principally, which occasioned the
popularity of her reign, and the high esteem, in which the wisdom of
her government is held to this day. The bulk of her subjects were, no
doubt, highly pleased to find themselves spared on all occasions of
expence. And it served at the same time, to gratify their natural envy
of the great, to find, that _their_ fortunes were first and principally
sacrificed to the public service. Nay, I am not sure that the very
rapacity of her nature, in the sale of her offices, was any objection
with the people at large, or even the lower gentry of the kingdom.
For these, having no pretensions themselves to those offices, would
be well enough pleased to see them not _bestowed_ on their betters,
but dearly purchased by them. And then this traffic at court furnished
the inferior gentry with a pretence for making the most of their
magistracies. This practice at least must have been very notorious
amongst them, when a facetious member of the lower house could define
a justice of peace to be, “A living creature, that for half a dozen of
chickens, will dispense with a whole dozen of penal statutes[104].”
But, however this be, the queen’s ends, in every view, were abundantly
answered. She enriched herself: she gained the affections of the
people, and depressed and weakened the nobility. And by all these ways
she effectually provided for, what she had ever most at heart, her own
supreme and uncontrolled authority.
And is that to be wondered at in a great prince? returned Dr.
ARBUTHNOT. Or, to take the matter in the light you place it, what if
the queen had so much of her sex[105] and family in her disposition, as
to like well enough to have her own way, is this such a crime as you
would make of it? If she loved power, it was not to make a wanton or
oppressive use of it. And if all princes knew as well to bound their
own wills, as she did, we should not much complain of their impatience
to be under the control of their subjects.