her, two on her larboard, and two on her starboard. The fight thus
beginning at three o’clock in the afternoon, continued very terrible all
that evening. But the great San Philip, having received the lower tier
of the Revenge, discharged with crossbar-shot, shifted herself with all
diligence from her sides, utterly misliking her first entertainment.
Some say that the ship foundered, but we cannot report it for true,
unless we were assured. The Spanish ships were filled with companies of
soldiers, in some two hundred besides the mariners, in some five, in
others eight hundred. In ours there were none at all besides the
mariners but the servants of the Commanders and some few voluntary
gentlemen only. After many interchanged volleys of great ordnance and
small shot, the Spaniards deliberated to enter the Revenge, and made
divers attempts, hoping to force her by the multitudes of their armed
soldiers and musketeers, but were still repulsed again and again, and at
all times beaten back into their own ships or into the seas. In the
beginning of the fight the George Noble of London, having received some
shot through her by the Armadas, fell under the lee of the Revenge, and
asked Sir Richard what he would command him, being but one of the
victuallers and of small force: Sir Richard bade him save himself and
leave him to his fortune. After the fight had thus without intermission
continued while the day lasted and some hours of the night, many of our
men were slain and hurt, and one of the great galleons of the Armada and
the Admiral of the hulks both sunk, and in many other of the Spanish
ships great slaughter was made. Some write that Sir Richard was very
dangerously hurt almost in the beginning of the fight and lay speechless
for a time ere he recovered. But two of the Revenge’s own company,
brought home in a ship of Lime from the Islands, examined by some of the
Lords and others, affirmed that he was never so wounded as that he
forsook the upper deck, till an hour before midnight, and then being
shot into the body with a musket as he was addressing, was again shot
into the head, and withal his Chirurgeon wounded to death. This agreeth
also with an examination taken by Sir Francis Godolphin of four other
mariners of the same ship being returned, which examination the said Sir
Francis sent unto master William Killigrew of her Majesty’s Privy
Chamber.
But to return to the fight, the Spanish ships which attempted to board
the Revenge, as they were wounded and beaten off, so always others came
in their places, she having never less than two mighty galleons by her
sides and aboard her; so that ere the morning, from three of the clock
the day before, there had fifteen several Armadas assailed her, and all
so ill approved their entertainment, as they were by the break of day
far more willing to hearken to a composition than hastily to make any
more assaults or entries. But as the day increased, so our men
decreased, and as the light grew more and more, by so much more grew our
discomforts. For none appeared in sight but enemies, saving one small
ship called the Pilgrim, commanded by Jacob Whiddon, who hovered all
night to see the success,[56] but in the morning bearing with the
Revenge, was hunted like a hare among many ravenous hounds, but escaped.
All the powder of the Revenge to the last barrel was now spent, all her
pikes broken, forty of her best men slain, and the most part of the rest
hurt. In the beginning of the fight she had but one hundred free from
sickness, and fourscore and ten sick, laid in hold upon the ballast. A
small troop to man such a ship, and a weak garrison to resist so mighty
an army. By those hundred all was sustained, the volleys, boardings and
enterings of fifteen ships of war, besides those which beat her at
large. On the contrary the Spanish were always supplied with soldiers
brought from every squadron; all manner of arms and powder at will. Unto
ours there remained no comfort at all, no supply either of ships, men,
or weapons, the masts all beaten overboard, all her tackle cut asunder,
her upper work altogether razed, and in effect evened she was with the
water, but the very foundation or bottom of a ship, nothing being left
overhead either for flight or defence. Sir Richard, finding himself in
this distress, and unable any longer to make resistance, having endured
in this fifteen hours fight the assault of fifteen several Armadas, all
by turns aboard him, and by estimation eight hundred shot of great
artillery, besides many assaults and entries; and that himself and the
ship must needs be possessed by the enemy, who were now all cast in a
ring round about him (the Revenge not able to move one way or other, but
as she was moved with the waves and billow of the sea) commanded the
master gunner, whom he knew to be a most resolute man, to split and sink
the ship, that thereby nothing might remain of glory or victory to the
Spaniards: seeing in so many hours fight and with so great a navy they
were not able to take her, having had fifteen hours’ time, above ten
thousand men, and fifty-and-three sail of men-of-war to perform it
withal; and persuaded the company, or as many as he could induce, to
yield themselves unto God and to the mercy of none else; but as they
had, like valiant resolute men, repulsed so many enemies, they should
not now shorten the honour of their nation, by prolonging their own
lives for a few hours or a few days. The master gunner readily
condescended, and divers others; but the Captain and the Master were of
another opinion, and besought Sir Richard to have care of them: alleging
that the Spaniard would be as ready to entertain a composition as they
were willing to offer the same: and that there being divers sufficient
and valiant men yet living, and whose wounds were not mortal, they might
do their country and prince acceptable service hereafter. And whereas
Sir Richard had alleged that the Spaniards should never glory to have
taken one ship of Her Majesty, seeing they had so long and so notably
defended themselves, they answered, that the ship had six foot water in
hold, three shot under water, which were so weakly stopped as with the
first working of the sea she must need sink, and was besides so crushed
and bruised as she could never be removed out of the place.
And as the matter was thus in dispute, and Sir Richard refusing to
hearken to any of those reasons, the Master of the Revenge (while the
Captain won unto him the greater party) was convoyed aboard the General
Don Alfonso Baçan. Who (finding none over hasty to enter the Revenge
again, doubting lest Sir Richard would have blown them up and himself,
and perceiving by the report of the Master of the Revenge his dangerous
disposition) yielded that all their lives should be saved, the company
sent for England, and the better sort to pay such reasonable ransom as
their estate would bear, and in the mean season to be free from galley
or imprisonment. To this he so much the rather condescended, as well, as
I have said, for fear of further loss and mischief to themselves, as
also for the desire he had to recover Sir Richard Grenville, whom for
his notable valour he seemed greatly to honour and admire.
When this answer was returned, and that safety of life was promised, the
common sort being now at the end of their peril, the most drew back from
Sir Richard and the master gunner, being no hard matter to dissuade men
from death to life. The master gunner, finding himself and Sir Richard
thus prevented and mastered by the greater number, would have slain
himself with a sword, had he not been by force withheld and locked into
his cabin. Then the General sent many boats aboard the Revenge, and
divers of our men, fearing Sir Richard’s disposition, stole away aboard
the General and other ships. Sir Richard, thus overmatched, was sent
unto by Alfonso Baçan to remove out of the Revenge, the ship being
marvellous unsavoury, filled with blood, and bodies of dead, and wounded
men, like a slaughter house. Sir Richard answered that he might do with
his body what he list, for he esteemed it not, and as he was carried out
of the ship he swounded, and reviving again desired the company to pray
for him. The General used Sir Richard with all humanity, and left
nothing unattempted that tended to his recovery, highly commending his
valour and worthiness, and greatly bewailing the danger wherein he was,
being unto them a rare spectacle and a resolution seldom approved[57] to
see one ship turn towards so many enemies, to endure the charge and
boarding of so many huge Armadas, and to resist and repel the assaults
and entries of so many soldiers. All which and more is confirmed by a
Spanish captain of the same Armada, and a present actor in the fight,
who, being severed from the rest in a storm, was by the Lion of London a
small ship taken, and is now prisoner in London....
The Admiral of the Hulks and the Ascension of Seville were both sunk by
the side of the Revenge; one other recovered the Road of St. Michael and
sunk also there; a fourth ran herself with the shore to save her men.
Sir Richard died, as it is said, the second or third day aboard the
General, and was by them greatly bewailed. What became of his body,
whether it were buried in the sea or on the land we know not: the
comfort that remaineth to his friends is that he hath ended his life
honourably in respect to the reputation won to his nation and country,
and of the same to his posterity, and that, being dead, he hath not
overlived his own honour....
A few days after the fight was ended, and the English prisoners
dispersed into the Spanish and Indy ships, there arose so great a storm
from the West and North-west, that all the fleet was dispersed, as well
the Indian fleet which were then come unto them, as the rest of the
Armada that attended their arrival, of which fourteen sail, together
with the Revenge, were cast away upon the Isle of S. Michael. So it
pleased them to honour the burial of that renowned ship the Revenge, not
suffering her to perish alone, for the great honour she achieved in her
life-time.
THE EARL OF ESSEX: HIS APOLOGY TO THE LORDS OF HER MAJESTY’S
COUNCIL, AFTER HE HAD BEEN PRISONER IN THE LORD KEEPER’S HOUSE
(1600).
=Source.=--Carew MSS. (Record Commission). Vol. iii., p. 518.
If it be objected that I came away and left my charge contrary to her
Majesty’s express commandment, so accompanied as it made my intent
suspected, leaving the government of the Kingdom unsettled, whereupon
great inconveniences have grown, and the whole State of Ireland was
hazarded, I answer first that (thanks be to God) no dangerous
consequence hath followed of it. For during nine or ten weeks after my
coming hither the whole kingdom was quiet; and since, even to this day,
no important loss hath been received, but only the defeating of a convoy
in an open champion[58] country, where our men had safe and near
retreats both before them and behind them. So as since the declination
of that State I think there will be hardly found so long a time wherein
the rebel did less mischief or the subject received less loss; which I
must impute to the providence of God Almighty in his mercy, who,
foreseeing the unjust imputations and malicious inferences that would be
brought against me, hath disfurnished my enemies of that they thought
should have been their greatest advantage, which was charging me with
the loss of Ireland, though it happened long after my coming over, and
though I had remained close prisoner, while they had time to prevent the
mischief.
And for my settling of the government before my coming away, if this
will not satisfy that I ordered her Majesty’s forces, employed her
ablest ministers, and gave particular instructions for every province
and frontier, by advice of her Majesty’s Council there: yet I am sure in
this Court this one plea will be allowed, that I so ordered all things,
as you, my Lords of the Council, having received account of me when I
was first committed, have not to this day altered anything of importance
in that course of government which I established at my coming away,
generally for the kingdom and particularly for every province.
And now, having said enough for the consequence and opportunity of my
coming over, I desire to know why my coming should be suspiciously
apprehended. Out of Ireland there came in the same passage with me, my
Lord of Southampton that was displaced, my Lord of Dunkilline, and Sir
Christopher St. Lawrence, that, in this vacancy of offers and time of
truce, desired by their own presence to renew the memory of their former
services; Sir Henry Davers, that was not through whole[59] of a
dangerous wound; Sir Henry Dockwrey, that was before I came away ... to
sue for the government of Connaught; and some other knights and captains
that were discharged, besides two captains that pretended great business
and long absence, and some gentlemen that were my own servants, that
were out of pay by the discharging of Sir John Lee’s company. But of all
these, there were not ten persons that accompanied me (from the sea’s
side) any part of the way, and not above six that came to the Court, the
rest taking their own courses and intending their private occasions.
But should my evil intent be?[60] It was as easy for me to do evil as to
think evil when I had a kingdom in my government and an army in my hand.
And the evil I did was but to myself, for I wasted both my body and
state in a costly, painful and discomfortable service. And now, having
stripped myself of all, and thrown myself at my Sovereign’s feet, shall
enemies or accusations prevail against demonstration, to make my intent
of coming over to be held suspect? Justice and charity will not allow of
these constructions made of those whose religion or descent might make
them suspected, except they enforce probable grounds: and shall I
(without any ground) be thus censured, who have lost my father and my
brother in her Majesty’s service, spent 13 of my 33 years as an officer
about her Majesty’s person, and seven years as a poor councillor of her
State, that am of all the subjects of England most hated by all the
enemies of her Majesty’s religion and welfare, and for my services to
her person and to her crown am so threatened with revenge as no place is
safe for me but her kingdom, nor no time but her reign? No! I thank my
God I know there doth neither good Christian nor lover of his country
suspect my intent. And for the imputations of the rest, I answer them
with the old rule, _ut quisque est ... bonus et sic e contra_. And now
it appears that I settled the State before my coming away, and that
there grew no dangerous consequence by my coming over.
QUEEN ELIZABETH’S SPEECH TO HER LAST PARLIAMENT, IN ANSWER TO THE
COMMONS’ THANKS TO HER FOR SUPPRESSING THE “ENGROSSING” OR
MONOPOLIES, NOVEMBER 30, 1601.
=Source.=--_Somers Tracts_ (from MS. of Bishop of Bangor).[61] Vol. i., p.
244.
Her Majesty being set under state in the Council Chamber at White Hall,
the Speaker, accompanied with Privy Councellors, besides Knights and
Burgesses of the Lower House to the number of eight score presenting
themselves at her Majesty’s feet, for that so graciously and speedily
she had heard and yielded to her subjects’ desires, and proclaimed the
same in their hearing as followeth:
/* MR. SPEAKER, */
We perceive your coming is to present thanks unto us. Know I accept
them with no less joy than your loves can have desire to offer such
a present, and do more esteem it than any treasure or riches; for
those we know how to prize, but loyalty, love, and thanks, I
account them invaluable; and though God hath raised me high, yet
this I account the glory of my crown, that I have reigned with your
loves. This makes that I do not so much rejoice that God hath made
me to be a Queen, as to be a Queen over so thankful a people, and
to be the means under God to conserve you in safety and preserve
you from danger, yea, to be the instrument to deliver you from
dishonour, from shame, and from infamy; to keep you from out of
servitude, and from slavery under our enemies, and cruel tyranny
and vile oppression intended against us; for the better
withstanding whereof we take very acceptable their[62] intended
helps, and chiefly in that it manifesteth your loves and largeness
of hearts to your Sovereign. Of myself I must say this, I never was
any greedy scraping grasper, nor a strict fast-holding prince, nor
yet a waster, my heart was never set upon any worldly goods, but
only for my subjects’ good. What you do bestow on me I will not
hoard up, but receive it to bestow on you again; yea, mine own
properties I account yours, to be expended for your good, and your
eyes shall see the bestowing of it for your welfare.
Mr. Speaker, I would wish you and the rest to stand up,[63] for I
fear I shall yet trouble you with longer speech.
Mr. Speaker, You give me thanks, but I am more to thank you, and I
charge you thank them of the Lower House from me; for had I not
received knowledge from you, I might a’ fallen into the lapse of
an error, only for want of true information.
Since I was Queen, yet did I never put my pen to any grant but upon
pretext and semblance made me that it was for the good and avail of
my subjects generally, though a private profit to some of my
ancient servants, who have deserved well; but that my grants shall
be made grievances to my people, and oppressions to be privileged
under colour of our patents, our princely dignity shall not suffer
it.
When I heard it, I could give no rest unto my thoughts until I had
reformed it, and those varlets, lewd persons, abusers of my bounty,
shall know I will not suffer it. And, Mr. Speaker, tell the House
from me, I take it exceeding grateful that the knowledge of these
things are come unto me from them. And tho’ amongst them the
principal members are such as are not touched in private, and
therefore need not speak from any feeling of the grief, yet we have
heard that other gentlemen also of the House, who stand as free,
have also spoken as freely in it; which gives us to know that no
respects or interests have moved them, other than the minds they
bear to suffer no diminution of our honour and our subjects’ love
unto us. The zeal of which affection, tending to ease my people and
knit their hearts unto us, I embrace with a princely care far above
all earthly treasures. I esteem my people’s love, more than which I
desire not to merit: and God, that gave me here to sit, and placed
me over you, knows that I never respected myself but as your good
was conserved in me; yet what dangers, what practices,[64] and what
perils I have passed, some if not all of you know; but none of
these things do move me, or ever made me fear but it’s God that
hath delivered me.
And in my governing this land I have ever set the last judgment day
before mine eyes, and so to rule as I shall be judged and answer
before a higher Judge, to whose judgment seat I do appeal, in that
never thought was cherished in my heart that tended not to my
people’s good.
And if my princely bounty have been abused, and my grants turned to
the hurt of my people contrary to my will and meaning, or if any in
authority under me have neglected or converted what I have
committed unto them, I hope God will not lay their culps[65] to my
charge.
To be a King and wear a crown, is a thing more glorious to them
that see it than it’s pleasant to them that bear it: for myself, I
never was so much enticed with the glorious name of a king, or the
royal authority of a queen, as delighted that God hath made me his
instrument to maintain his truth and glory, and to defend this
kingdom from dishonour, damage, tyranny and oppression. But should
I ascribe any of these things to myself or my sexly weakness, I
were not worthy to live, and of all most unworthy of the mercies I
have received at God’s hands, but to God only and wholly all is
given and ascribed.
The cares and troubles of a crown I cannot more fitly resemble than
to the drugs of a learned physician, perfumed with some aromatical
savour, or to bitter pills gilded over, by which they are made more
acceptable or less offensive, which indeed are bitter and
unpleasant to take; and for my own part, were it not for conscience
sake to discharge the duty that God hath laid upon me and to
maintain His glory and keep you in safety, in mine own disposition
I should be willing to resign the place I hold to any other, and
glad to be freed of the glory with the labours, for it is not my
desire to live nor to reign longer than my life and reign shall be
for your good. And though you have had and may have many mightier
and wiser princes sitting in this seat, yet you never had nor shall
have any that will love you better.
Thus, Mr. Speaker, I commend me to your loyal loves, and yours to
my best care and your further councils; and I pray you, Mr.
Controuler and Mr. Secretary, and you of my Council, that before
these gentlemen depart into their countries, you bring them all to
kiss my hand.
QUEEN ELIZABETH’S DEATH AND NOMINATION OF KING JAMES VI. OF
SCOTLAND AS HER SUCCESSOR (1603).
“The quiet end of that long-living Queen.”--DRAYTON.
=Source.=--Somers, _Tracts_ (MS. source not specified). Vol. i., p. 246.
About the Friday sevennight after Christmas last, being about the 14th
of January, 1602 [1603], in the 45th year of her reigne, the late queen
about two days before sickened of a colde (being ever forewarned by
Doctor Dee to beware of White-hall), and the said 14th day removed to
Richmond; but a little before her going, even the same morning, the Earl
of Nottingham, High Admiral of England, coming to her, partly to speak
with her as concerning her removal, and partly touching other matters
wherein her pleasure and direction was to be known, they fell into some
speech of the succession; and then she told him that her seat had ever
been the throne of kings, and none but her next heir of blood and
descent should succeed her. After falling into other matters, they left
that speech, and she departed to Richmond; where she was well amended of
the cold. But on Monday the 20th of February she began to sicken again,
and so continued till Monday the 7th of March, at which time notice was
given to the Lords of the Council that she was sick of a cold, and so
she continued sick till Tuesday the 15th of March following; after which
day she began somewhat to amend. But the 18th of March following, being
Friday, she began to be very ill, whereupon the Lords of the Council
were sent for to Richmond, and there continued till Wednesday the 24th
of March, about three of the clock in the morning (being our Lady even)
at which time she died; but on Tuesday before her death, being the 23rd
of March, the Lord Admiral being on the right side of the bed, the Lord
Keeper at the left, and Mr. Secretary Cecil (after Earl of Salisbury) at
the bed’s feet, all standing;
The Lord Admiral put her in mind of her speech concerning the
succession, had at White-hall, and that they, in the name of all the
rest of her Council, came unto her to know her pleasure who should
succeed. Whereunto she thus replied: “I told you my seat had been the
seat of Kings, and I will have no rascal to succeed me, and who should
succeed me but a King?”
The Lords not understanding this dark speech, and looking the one on the
other, at length Mr. Secretary boldly asked her what she meant by these
words, “That no rascal should succeed her?” Whereunto she replied, “That
her meaning was, that a King should succeed her, and who,” quoth she,
“should that be, but our cousin of Scotland?”
They asked her whether that were her absolute resolution? Whereunto she
answered, “I pray you trouble me no more, I’ll have none but him.”
Notwithstanding, after again, about four a’clock in the afternoon, the
next day, being Wednesday (after the Archbishop of Canterbury and other
divines had been with her and left her in a manner speechless), the
three Lords aforesaid repaired unto her again, asking her if she
remained in her former resolution, and who should succeed her; but she
not being able to speak, was asked by Mr. Secretary in this sort, “We
beseech your Majesty, if you remain in your former resolution, and that
you would have the King of Scots to succeed you in your kingdom, shew
some sign unto us;” whereat suddenly heaving herself upwards in the bed,
she held both her hands jointly together over her head in manner of a
crown, whereby as they guessed she signified that she did not only wish
him the kingdom, but desired the continuance of his estate, after which
they departed.
And the next morning, as is aforesaid, she died. Immediately after her
death, as well of the Council as other noblemen that were at the Court,
came from Richmond to White-hall by six o’clock in the morning, where
other noblemen that were at London met them; but as they began to sit in
council in the privy chamber at White-hall, the Lord Keeper, Sir Thomas
Egerton, and the rest of the Council that were no barons, offered to
sit at the lower end of the council table, and not above any of the
meanest nobility; but the noblemen, in respect of their former
authority, called them to the higher end of the table, and wished them
to keep their places, whereunto the Lord Keeper answered, viz. “If it be
your Lordships’ pleasures, we will do so; but that is more of your
courtesies than we can demand of duty”; and so they sat down, every man
according to his degree in Council; touching the succession, where after
some speech had of divers competitors and matters of State, at length
the Lord Admiral rehearsed all the aforesaid premisses, which the late
Queen had spoken to him and to the Lord Keeper and Mr. Secretary, with
the manner thereof; which they, being asked, did affirm to be true upon
their honours.
APPENDIX
THE ENTERTAINMENT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH (1575).