Chapter XXVII: 1599 to 1603 (3)
The importunities of her ministers, however, among whom Tyrone is said to have made himself friends, finally overpowered the reluctance of the queen; and she authorized the deputy to grant the rebel his life, with some part of the terms which he asked; but so extreme was her mortification in making this concession, that many have regarded it as the origin of that deep melancholy to which she soon after fell a victim. The council apprehended, or affected to apprehend, that Tyrone would still refuse to surrender on the hard conditions imposed by the queen; but so desperate was now his situation, that without even waiting to receive them, he had thrown himself at the feet of the deputy and submitted his lands and life to the queen's mercy. Ministers more resolute, or more disinterested, might therefore have spared her the degradation, as she regarded it, of treating with a rebel. The news of his final submission, which occurred four days only before her death, she never learned.
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The closing scene of the long and eventful life of queen Elizabeth is all that now remains to be described; but that marked peculiarity of character and of destiny which has attended her from the cradle, pursues her to the grave, and forbids us to hurry over as trivial and uninteresting the melancholy detail.
Notwithstanding the state of bodily and mental indisposition in which she was beheld by Harrington at the close of the year 1602, the queen had persisted in taking her usual exercises of riding and hunting, regardless of the inclemencies of the season. One day in January she visited the lord admiral, probably at Chelsea, and about the same time she removed to her palace of Richmond.
In the beginning of March her illness suddenly increased; and it was about this time that her kinsman Robert Cary arrived from Berwick to visit her. In his own memoirs he has thus related the circumstances which he witnessed on this occasion.
"When I came to court 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 in 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 I never knew her fetch a sigh, but when the queen of Scots was beheaded. Then, 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, 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 came out and bade make ready for the private closet, she would not go to the great. There we stayed long for her coming, but at last she had cushions laid for her in her privy-chamber hard by the closet door, and there she heard service.
"From that day forward she grew worse and worse. She remained upon her cushions four days and nights at the least. All about her could not persuade her either to take any sustenance or go to bed.... The queen grew worse and worse because she would be so, none about her being able to go to bed. My lord-admiral was sent for, (who by reason of my sister's death, that was his wife, had absented himself some fortnight from 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 she grew speechless. That afternoon by signs she called for her 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 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 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 the beholders.... 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 Scrope, 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 leave 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.... Between one and two o'clock of the Thursday morning, he that I left in the cofferer's chamber brought me word that the queen was dead."
A Latin letter written the day after her death to Edmund Lambert, whether by one of her physicians or not is uncertain, gives an account of her sickness in no respect contradictory to Robert Cary's.
"It was after laboring for nearly three weeks under a morbid melancholy, which brought on stupor not unmixed with some indications of a disordered fancy, that the queen expired. During all this time she could neither by reasoning, entreaties, or artifices be brought to make trial of any medical aid, and with difficulty was persuaded to receive sufficient nourishment to sustain nature; taking also very little sleep, and that not in bed, but on cushions, where she would sit whole days motionless and sleepless; retaining however the vigor of her intellect to her last breath, though deprived for three days before her death of the power of speech."
Another contemporary writes to his friend thus.... "No doubt you shall hear her majesty's sickness and manner of death diversly reported; for even here the papists do tell strange stories, as utterly void of truth as of all civil honesty or humanity.... Here was some whispering that her brain was somewhat distempered, but there was no such matter; only she held an obstinate silence for the most part; and, because she had a persuasion that if she once lay down she should never rise, could not be got to go to bed in a whole week, till three days before her death.... She made no will, neither gave any thing away; so that they which come after shall find a well-furnished jewel-house and a rich wardrobe of more than two thousand gowns, with all things else answerable[144]."
[Note 144: Printed in Nichols's Progresses.]
That a profound melancholy was either the cause, or at least a leading symptom, of the last illness of the queen, so many concurring testimonies render indisputable; but the origin of this affection has been variously explained. Some, as we have seen, ascribed it to her chagrin on being in a manner compelled to grant the pardon of Tyrone;--a cause disproportioned surely to the effect. Others have imagined it to arise from grief and indignation at the neglect which she began to experience from the venal throng of courtiers, who were hastening to pay timely homage to her successor. By others, again, her dejection has been regarded as nothing more than a natural concomitant of bodily decay; a physical rather than a mental malady. But the prevalent opinion, even at the time, appears to have been, that the grief or compunction for the death of Essex, with which she had long maintained a secret struggle, broke forth in the end superior to control, and rapidly completed the overthrow of powers which the advances of old age and an accumulation of cares and anxieties had already undermined. "Our queen," writes an English correspondent to a Scotch nobleman in the service of James, "is troubled with a rheum in her arm, which vexeth her very much, besides the grief she hath conceived for my lord of Essex's death. She sleepeth not so much by day as she used, neither taketh rest by night. Her delight is to sit in the dark, and sometimes, with shedding tears, to bewail Essex."
A remarkable anecdote first published in Osborn's Traditional Memoirs of Queen Elizabeth, and confirmed by M. Maurier's Memoirs,--where it is given on the authority of sir Dudley Carleton the English ambassador in Holland, who related it to prince Maurice,--offers the solution of these doubts. According to this story, the countess of Nottingham, who was a relation, but no friend, of the earl of Essex, being on her death-bed, entreated to see the queen; declaring that she had something to confess to her before she could die in peace. On her majesty's arrival, the countess produced a ring, which she said the earl of Essex had sent to her after his condemnation, with an earnest request that she would deliver it to the queen, as the token by which he implored her mercy; but which, in obedience to her husband, to whom she had communicated the circumstance, she had hitherto withheld; for which she entreated the queen's forgiveness. On sight of the ring, Elizabeth instantly recognised it as one which she had herself presented to her unhappy favorite on his departure for Cadiz, with the tender promise, that of whatsoever crimes his enemies might have accused him, or whatsoever offences he might actually have committed against her, on his returning to her that pledge, she would either pardon him, or admit him at least to justify himself in her presence. Transported at once with grief and rage, on learning the barbarous infidelity of which the earl had been the victim and herself the dupe, the queen shook in her bed the dying countess, and vehemently exclaiming, that God might forgive her, but she never could, flung out of the chamber.
Returning to her palace, she surrendered herself without resistance to the despair which seized her heart on this fatal and too late disclosure.--Hence her refusal of medicine and almost of food;--hence her obstinate silence interrupted only by sighs, groans, and broken hints of a deep sorrow which she cared not to reveal;--hence the days and nights passed by her seated on the floor, sleepless, her eyes fixed and her finger pressed upon her mouth;--hence, in short, all those heart-rending symptoms of incurable and mortal anguish which conducted her, in the space of twenty days, to the lamentable termination of a long life of power, prosperity and glory[145].
[Note 145: See the evidence for this extraordinary story fully stated in Birch's Negotiations. On the whole, it appears sufficient to warrant our belief; yet it should be remarked that the accounts which have come down to us differ from each other in some important points, and are traceable to no original witness of the interview between the queen and the countess.]
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The queen expired on March 24th 1603.
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After the minute and extended survey of the life and actions of Elizabeth which has made the principal business of these pages, it would be a trespass alike on the patience and the judgement of the reader to detain him with a formal review of her character;--let it suffice to complete the portrait by a few additional touches.
The ceremonial of her court rivalled the servility of the East: no person of whatever rank ventured to address her otherwise than kneeling; and this attitude was preserved by all her ministers during their audiences of business, with the exception of Burleigh, in whose favor, when aged and infirm, she dispensed with its observance. Hentzner, a German traveller who visited England near the conclusion of her reign, relates, that as she passed through several apartments from the chapel to dinner, wherever she turned her eyes he observed the spectators throw themselves on their knees. The same traveller further relates, that the officers and ladies whose business it was to arrange the dishes and give tastes of them to the yeomen of the guard by whom they were brought in, did not presume to approach the royal table, without repeated prostrations and genuflexions and every mark of reverence due to her majesty in person.
The appropriation of her time and the arrangements of her domestic life present more favorable traits.
"First in the morning she spent some time at her devotions; then she betook herself to the dispatch of her civil affairs, reading letters, ordering answers, considering what should be brought before the council, and consulting with her ministers. When she had thus wearied herself, she would walk in a shady garden or pleasant gallery, without any other attendance than that of a few learned men. Then she took her coach and passed in the sight of her people to the neighbouring groves and fields, and sometimes would hunt or hawk. There was scarce a day but she employed some part of it in reading and study; sometimes before she entered upon her state affairs, sometimes after them[146]."
[Note 146: Bohun's Character of Queen Elizabeth.]
She slept little, seldom drank wine, was sparing in her diet, and a religious observer of the fasts. She sometimes dined alone, but more commonly had with her some of her friends. "At supper she would divert herself with her friends and attendants, and if they made her no answer would put them upon mirth and pleasant discourse with great civility. She would then also admit Tarleton, a famous comedian and pleasant talker, and other such men, to divert her with stories of the town and the common jests and accidents."
"She would recreate herself with a game of chess, dancing or singing.... She would often play at cards and tables, and if at any time she happened to win, she would be sure to demand the money.... She was waited on in her bed-chamber by married ladies of the nobility; the marchioness of Winchester widow, lady Warwick, and lady Scrope; and here she would seldom suffer any to wait upon her but Leicester, Hatton, Essex, Nottingham, and Raleigh.... Some lady always slept in her chamber; and besides her guards, there was always a gentleman of good quality and some others up in the next chamber, to wake her if any thing extraordinary happened[147]."
[Note 147: Bohun's Character of Queen Elizabeth.]
"She loved a prudent and moderate habit in her private apartment and conversation with her own servants; but when she appeared in public she was ever richly adorned with the most valuable clothes; set off again with much gold and jewels of inestimable value; and on such occasions she ever wore high shoes, that she might seem taller than indeed she was. The first day of the parliament she would appear in a robe embroidered with pearls, the royal crown on her head, the golden ball in her left hand and the sceptre in her right; and as she never failed then of the loud acclamations of her people, so she was ever pleased with it, and went along in a kind of triumph with all the ensigns of majesty. The royal name was ever venerable to the English people; but this queen's name was more sacred than any of her ancestors.... In the furniture of her palaces she ever affected magnificence and an extraordinary splendor. She adorned the galleries with pictures by the best artists; the walls she covered with rich tapestries. She was a true lover of jewels, pearls, all sorts of precious stones, gold and silver plate, rich beds, fine couches and chariots, Persian and Indian carpets, statues, medals, &c. which she would purchase at great prices. Hampton-court was the most richly furnished of all her palaces; and here she had caused her naval victories against the Spaniards to be worked in fine tapestries and laid up among the richest pieces of her wardrobe.... When she made any public feasts, her tables were magnificently served and many side-tables adorned with rich plate. At these times many of the nobility waited on her at table. She made the greatest displays of her regal magnificence when foreign ambassadors were present. At these times she would also have vocal and instrumental music during dinner; and after dinner, dancing[148]."
[Note 148: Bohun's Character of Queen Elizabeth.]
The queen was laudably watchful over the morals of her court; and not content with dismissing from her service, or banishing her presence, such of her female attendants as were found offending against the laws of chastity, she was equitable enough to visit with marks of her displeasure the libertinism of the other sex; and in several instances she deferred the promotion of otherwise deserving young men till she saw them reform their manners in this respect. Europe had assuredly never beheld a court so decent, so learned, or so accomplished as hers; and it will not be foreign from the purpose of illustrating more fully the character of the sovereign, to borrow from a contemporary writer a few particulars on this head.
It was rare to find a courtier acquainted with no language but his own. The ladies studied Latin, Greek, Spanish, Italian, and French. The "more ancient" among them exercised themselves some with the needle, some with "_caul work_," (probably netting) "divers in spinningsilk, some in continual reading either of the Scriptures or of histories either of their own or foreign countries; divers in writing volumes of their own, or translating the works of others into Latin or English;" while the younger ones in the meantime applied to their "lutes, citharnes, pricksong and all kinds of music." Many of the elder sort were also "skilful in surgery and distillation of waters, beside sundry artificial practices pertaining to the ornature and commendations of their bodies." "This," adds our author, "I will generally say of them all; that as each of them are cunning in something whereby they keep themselves occupied in the court, there is in manner none of them but when they be at home can help to supply the ordinary want of the kitchen with a number of delicate dishes of their own devising, wherein the _portingal_ is their chief counsellor, as some of them are most commonly with the clerk of the kitchen," &c.
"Every office," at court, had "either a Bible or the book of the Acts and Monuments of the Church of England, or both, besides some histories and chronicles lying therein, for the exercise of such as come into the same[149]."
[Note 149: Description of England prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicles.]
Such was the scene over which Elizabeth presided;--such the companions whom she formed to herself, and in whom she delighted! The new men and new manners brought in by James I. served more fully to instruct the nation in the value of all that it had enjoyed under his illustrious predecessor, the vigor which had rendered her government respectable abroad; and the wise and virtuous moderation which caused it to beloved at home, were now recalled with that sense of irreparable loss which exalts to enthusiasm the sentiment of veneration and the principle of gratitude; and almost in the same proportion as the sanguinary bigotry of her predecessor had occasioned her accession to be desired, the despicable weakness of her successor caused her decease to be regretted and deplored.
It was on the tenth anniversary of the proclamation of king James that the eloquent Hall, in his sermon at Paul's Cross, gave utterance to the general sentiment in the following animated apostrophe to the manes of the departed sovereign:
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"O blessed queen! the mother of this nation, the nurse of this church, the glory of womanhood, the envy and example of foreign nations, the wonder of times, how sweet and sacred shall thy memory be to all posterity!--How excellent were her masculine graces of learning, valor and wisdom, by which she might justly challenge to be the queen of men! So learned was she, that she could give present answer to ambassadors in their own tongues; so valiant, that like Zisca's drum made the proudest Romanist to quake; so wise, that whatsoever fell out happily against the common adversary in France, Netherland, Ireland, it was by themselves ascribed to her policy.
"Why should I speak of her long and successful government, of her miraculous preservations; of her famous victories, wherein the waters, wind, fire and earth fought for us, as if they had been in pay under her; of her excellent laws and careful execution? Many daughters have done worthily, but thou surmountedest them all. Such was the sweetness of her government and such the fear of misery in her loss, that many worthy christians desired that their eyes might be closed before hers.... Every one pointed to her white hairs, and said, with that peaceable Leontius, "When this snow melteth there will be a flood."
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In the progress of the preceding work, I have inserted some incidental notices respecting the domestic architecture of the reign of Elizabeth; but becoming gradually sensible of the interesting details of which the subject was susceptible and entirely aware of my own inability to do it justice, I solicited, and esteem myself fortunate in having procured, the following remarks from the pen of a brother who makes this noble art at once his profession and his delight.
ON THE DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE
OF
The Reign of Elizabeth.
DURING the period of English history included in our present survey, the nobility continued for the most part to inhabit their ancient castles; edifices which, originally adapted by strength of situation and construction merely to defence, were now in many instances, by the alteration of the original buildings and by the accession of additional ones, become splendid palaces. Among these it may be sufficient to mention Kennelworth, renowned for gorgeous festivities, where the earl of Leicester was reported to have expended 60,000 pounds in buildings.
Some curious notices of the habitations of the time are preserved in Leland's Itinerary, written about 1535, as in the following description of Wresehill-castle near Howden in Yorkshire:--'Most part of the base court is of timber. The castle is moted about on three parts; the fourth part is dry, where the entry is into the castle. Five towers, one at each corner; the gateway is the fifth, having five lodgings in height; three of the other towers have four lodgings in height; the fourth containeth the buttery, pantry, pastry, lardery, and kitchen. In one of the towers a study called Paradise, where was a closet in the middle of eight squares latticed; about and at the top of every square was a desk lodged to set books on, &c. The garde robe in the castle was exceeding fair, and so were the gardens within the mote and the orchards without; and in the orchards were mounts _opere topiario_ writhen about with degrees like turnings of a cockle-shell, to come to top without pain.'
These castles, though converted into dwellings of some convenience and magnificence, still retained formidable strength, which was proved in the following century, when so many of them sustained sieges for the king or parliament and were finally dilapidated.
Besides the regularly fortified castles, there were many mansion-houses of inferior importance, which, though not capable of resisting a regular siege, were strengthened against a tumultuous or hasty invasion. These houses generally formed a square of building enclosing a court and surrounded by a moat. A drawbridge formed the only access, which was protected by an embattled gatehouse. One side of the square was principally occupied by a great hall; and the offices and lodgings were distributed on the other sides. Oxburgh-hall in Norfolk and Layer Marney in Essex are fine examples of these houses. They were frequently of timber, as Moreton-hall in Cheshire, Speke-hall near Liverpool. Leland describes Morley-house near Manchester as 'builded,--saving the foundation of stone squared that riseth within a great mote a 6 foot above the water,--all of timber, after the common sort of building of the gentlemen for most of Lancashire.' Sometimes a strong tower was added at one corner as a citadel, which might be maintained when the rest of the house was destroyed. This is the case with the curious house of Stoke Say in Shropshire, where the situation near the Welsh border might render such an additional security desirable.
Thus the forms of ancient fortification were continued awhile rather from habit or ostentation than from any more important motives; but in the new buildings erected during the reign of Elizabeth and her successor they were finally laid aside. In some stately houses, though the show of strength was discontinued, the general form remained however the same. The circuit of building was entire, and enclosed one or more courts; a gateway formed the entrance, and the great hall was placed at the opposite side of the first court. Such was Audley End, in its original state one of the largest and most sumptuous houses in the kingdom. In other instances the house assumes the half H shape, with the offices placed in the wings; and the circuit is only completed by terraces and low walls; the gatehouse remains as a detached lodge, or is entirely omitted: examples of this form are numerous; as Holland-house at Kensington, Oxnead and Blickling halls in Norfolk, Beaudesert and Wimbledon-house, built by sir Thomas Cecil in 1588, remarkable for a great ascent of steps and terraces disposed in a manner resembling some Italian villas. In others the offices are detached in separate masses, or concealed, or placed in a basement story; and only the body of the house remains, either as a solid mass or enclosing small courts: this disposition does not differ from the most modern arrangements. Of these houses Longleat in Wiltshire and Wollaton near Nottingham are fine examples[150].
[Note 150: Views of most of the buildings here mentioned may be found in Britton's Architectural Antiquities, vols. i. ii. and iv.]
The distribution of domestic buildings is well illustrated in the Survey of Theobald's taken by the Parliament's Commissioners in 1650[151]. This mansion was built by lord Burleigh about 1560: it afterwards became a favourite residence of James I. who received it from lord Salisbury in exchange for the manor and palace of Hatfield. The Survey contains a very minute and accurate description of Theobald's palace, from which the following account is given partly in the words of the old surveyors.--It consisted of two principal quadrangles besides the dial court, the buttery court and the dove-house court, in which the offices were situated. The fountain court was a square of 86 feet, on the east side of which was a cloister of seven arches. On the ground floor of this quadrangle was a spacious hall; the roof of which was arched with carved timber of curious workmanship. On the same floor were the lord Holland's, the marquis of Hamilton's, and lord Salisbury's apartments, the council chamber and waiting room. On the second floor was the presence chamber, finished with carved oak wainscoting and a ceiling full of gilded pendants. Also the privy chamber, the withdrawing room, the king's bed-chamber, and a gallery 123 feet long, 'wainscoted with oak, and paintings over the same of divers cities, rarely painted and set forth with a fret ceiling, with divers pendants, roses and flower-de-luces; also divers large stags heads, which were an excellent ornament to the same.' On the upper floor were the lord chamberlain's lodgings and several other apartments, with terrace walks on the leads. At each corner stood a high and fair tower, and over the hall in the middle 'a large and fair turret in the fashion of a lantern, curiously wrought with divers pinnacles at each corner, wherein hangeth 12 bells for chiming and a clock with chimes and sundry work.' The middle court was a quadrangle of 110 feet square, on the south side of which were the queen's chapel, presence chamber, and other apartments. The prince's lodgings were on the north side; on the east side was a cloister, over which was the green gallery, 109 feet by 12 feet, 'excellently well painted with the several shires in England and the arms of the noblemen and gentlemen in the same.' Over the gallery was a leaded walk, on which were two lofty arches of brick, 'of no small ornament to the house, and rendering it comely and pleasant to all that passed by.' On the west side of the quadrangle was another cloister, on five arches, over which were the duke's lodgings and over them the queen's gallery. On the south side of the house stood a large open cloister, built upon several large fair pillars, arched over 'with a fair rail and ballustres; well painted with the kings and queens of England and the pedigree of the old lord Burleigh and divers other ancient families; with paintings of many castles and battles.' The gardens at Theobald's were large, and ornamented with labyrinths, canals and fountains. The great garden contained seven acres; besides which there were the pheasant garden, privy garden, and laundry garden. In the former were nine knots artificially and exquisitely made, one of which was set forth in likeness of the king's arms. This description, and Bacon's idea of a palace in his 45th Essay, with their numerous cloisters, galleries and turrets, are well illustrated by the plan of Audley End, in its original state, given in Britton's _Architectural Antiquities_, vol. ii.
[Note 151: Lysons's Environs of London, vol. iv.]
The houses erected during the sixteenth and the early part of the seventeenth century were frequently of magnificent dimensions, picturesque from the varied lines and projections of the plan and elevation, and rich by the multiplicity of parts; but they had lost all beauty of detail. The builders, having abandoned the familiar and long practised Gothic style, were now to serve their apprenticeship in Grecian architecture: 'stately Doricke and neat Ionicke work' were introduced as fashionable novelties, employed first in the porches and frontispieces and gradually extended over the whole fronts of buildings. Among the architects employed at this period some foreign names occur. Holbein was much favoured by Henry VIII., and gave various designs for buildings at the old palaces of Whitehall and St. James. John of Padua had a salary as deviser of his majesty's buildings, and was employed to build the palace of the protector Somerset. Jerome de Trevisi is also mentioned; and it is said that the designs for Longleat and a model of Audley End were obtained from Italy. The last circumstance is altogether extraordinary; this was the very best period of Italian architecture, and it seems highly improbable that semi-barbarous designs should proceed from the country of Palladio and Vignola. Thorpe, Smithson, and other Englishmen, were also eminent builders; and probably these persons might have travelled, and thus have gained the imperfect knowledge of Grecian architecture which appears in their works. They were immediately followed by Inigo Jones, who formed his style particularly on the works of Palladio, and became the founder of classic architecture in this country.
There is a remarkable and beautiful analogy between the progress of Grecian and Gothic architecture, in both of which we find, that while the powers of decoration were extended, the process of construction was improved and simplified. Thus the Doric, the primitive order, is full of difficulties in its arrangement, which render it only applicable to simple plans and to buildings where the internal distribution is of inferior consequence. The Ionic, though more ornamental, is by the suppression of the divisions in the frieze so simplified as to be readily applicable to more complicated arrangements: still the capital presents difficulties from the dissimilarity of the front and sides; which objection is finally obviated by the introduction of that rich and exquisite composition, the Corinthian capital. Thus is obtained an order of the most elegant and ornamented character, but possessing a happy simplicity and regularity of composition which renders it more easy of application than any other. In like manner in the later, which has been called the florid style of Gothic architecture, there are buildings astonishingly rich and elaborate; but we find this excess of ornament supported and rendered practicable by a principle of simplicity in design and construction. In the earlier and middle styles of Gothic there are various difficulties of execution and some faults of composition: such as the slender detached shafts, the richly carved capitals, the flowing and varied tracery of windows, and that profuse variety in detail which frequently causes all the windows, capitals, buttresses and pinnacles of the same buildings to differ from one another. But the later style has more uniformity in corresponding parts; the capitals are very generally composed of plain mouldings, and the divisions of the windows consist chiefly of horizontal and perpendicular lines, with few of the beautiful and difficult combinations of curves which are found in the preceding style. The general principle of decoration is to leave no plain surface, but to divide the whole into a series of pannelling; by which is produced an extraordinary richness of effect, though the parts, when examined separately, are generally of simple forms and such as will admit of an easy and mechanical execution. The introduction of the four-centred arch enlarged the powers of design, enabled architects in many instances to proportion better the vault to the upright, and even to introduce vaults where they would have been inapplicable in the former style, on account of the want of elevation in rooms; as in the divinity school at Oxford. Without concurring in the ignorant wonder which has raised the vaulted ceilings of this style to the rank of mysteries, we may admire the ingenuity which has rendered real simplicity of construction the foundation of beautiful forms and of the most elaborate decoration. The most celebrated examples of this style are so highly finished, so exuberant in ornament, that the term _florid_ has been applied as a characteristic epithet for the style; but there are many instances of very simple and unornamented buildings of the same period agreeing in all the essential principles of construction and design; and a late writer has with more propriety adopted the term _perpendicular_ for this mode of architecture. This later Gothic, easy of construction and possessing a variety of character applicable to every kind of building, is well adapted for modern imitation.
But the power of mutability was at work, and Gothic architecture was doomed to fall. The first step towards its decline was pursuing to excess the principle of simplification and retrenching the most essential ornaments. The large windows of houses were merely divided by horizontal and upright bars, and, deprived of tracery and feathering, were as void of beauty in the details as in the general proportions; buttresses and battlements were generally omitted. A great deterioration took place in the decorative part; the ornamental pannels and freizes of the Gothic style, consisting of geometrical combinations of circles and straight lines, had always a distinct outline and a sharpness of effect which contrasted agreeably with the foliage so often intermixed; but these were succeeded by strange grotesque combinations, confused, and void of outline and regularity. The source of ornament was now sought in the orders and members of Grecian architecture; but the eyes which had been accustomed to the Gothic flutter of parts, were not prepared to relish the simplicity of line which is essential to the beauty of the Greek style. Columns of a small size, inaccurately and coarsely executed, with arcades and grotesque caryatids, formed the ornaments of porches and frontispieces,--as at Browseholme-house in Yorkshire, Wimbledon, and the Schools-tower at Oxford,--or were spread over the whole front and formed the cloisters and galleries in which those ancient mansions abounded; as at Holland-house, Longleat, Wollaton, Audley End, Longford-castle, &c. The roofs were either faced with notched and curved gables, or screened by parapets of ballustres or latticed work and decorated with obelisks and columnar chimney shafts; while turrets and pavilions broke the line of elevation. The windows were very large, and frequently bowed: thus Bacon remarks, in the Essay before referred to, that 'you shall have sometimes fair houses so full of glass that one cannot tell where to become to be out of the sun or cold.' In wooden houses and particularly town houses, the upper stories generally projected beyond the lower, with windows extremely wide, so as to occupy almost the whole line of front. The timbers were frequently left bare, carved and disposed in forms of pannelling; while the various projections were supported by grotesque figures. Very curious houses of this character are still found in several old towns, as Chester, Shrewsbury, Coventry, and the obscure parts of London; though natural decay, fire and modern improvements, are continually diminishing their number. Among interior decorations, chimney-pieces were very conspicuous: they were miniature frontispieces, consisting, like the porches of the houses, of a mass of columns, arches, niches and caryatids, piled up to the ceiling. Of these there is one at the old Tabley-hall in Cheshire singularly rude and grotesque, though dated so late as 1619, containing a hunting-piece and the figures of Lucrece and Cleopatra. Another in queen Elizabeth's gallery at Windsor Castle is very rich, and comparatively pure and elegant in design. The sepulchral monuments of this age are very numerous, but only differ from those of an earlier date in the substitution of the members of Grecian for those of Gothic architecture, or rather in the confused mixture of both.
On the whole, this, though a glorious period for literature, was lost for the fine arts. The incongruous mixture of the conflicting principles of Grecian and Gothic architecture produced buildings more truly barbarous, more disgusting to a cultivated taste, than the rudest Norman work. Together with the architectural orders, our artists had received models and authorities for the grotesque style, which they were but too ready to follow. This extraordinary style of ornament had prevailed in ancient Rome early enough to be reprobated in the work of Vitruvius, and lay unobserved among obscure and subterraneous ruins till the discovery of the Baths of Titus opened a rich magazine of gay and capricious ornament. Raffaelle, struck with these remains of the antique art of painting, adopted the same style of ornament in the galleries of the Vatican, enriching and enlivening it with the stores of allegory and mythology furnished by his poetical fancy. The example of such a man could not want imitators; it influenced the whole architecture of France,--which very early possessed artists of great merit,--and appeared in this country with very inferior effect. It may well be imagined that this style, naturally licentious and only rendered tolerable by grace of composition and brilliancy of execution, would become utterly contemptible when presenting only coarsely executed and unmeaning extravagances. Such was the general character of art. We may however make discriminations, and admit comparative merit. Wimbledon-house, seated on the side of a hill, was remarkable for a magnificent disposition of steps and terraces worthy an Italian villa. Wollaton-hall is admired by Mr. Price for the grandeur of its masses. Charlton-house has a very picturesque arrangement of heights in the elevation; Longleat, on the other hand, has much simplicity of form. In its square projections and three orders of columns, or pilasters, it bears no remote resemblance to the ancient part of the Louvre built about thirty years previously, though without the purity and delicacy of the details of the architecture and sculpture which distinguish the French building.
EDMUND AIKIN.
Liverpool, February 10, 1818.
INDEX.
Alencon, duke of, II 22. 56.
created duke of Anjou, 71.
visits the queen, ib.
His second visit, 98 et seq
death, 103.
Anjou, duke of, 451. II. 11.
_See_ Alencon.
Anne of Cleves, 48. 49. 52. 53. 133.
Arragon, Catherine of, 3. 15.
Arundel, sir Thomas, case of, II. 370.
Ascham, Roger, extracts from his Latin letters, 92 et seq, 97, 98, 99 et seq.
Ashley, Mrs. 194.
Aston, sir Roger, II. 414.
Aylmer or Elmer (bishop), on the dress of Elizabeth, 98. 99. II. 65.
B.
Babington, Anthony, II. 166. 168.
Bacon, sir Nicholas, 257.
Employed in the settlement of religion, 320.
In disgrace, 366 and 7. II. 81 et seq.
----, Anthony, II. 86. 343.
----, Francis, II. 83. 337. 339 to 343. 346 to 350.
His letter to the earl of Essex, 380.
Speeches written by, 385.
Base conduct of, 434.
Beddingfield, sir II. 171. 174. 176. 177.
Bertie, Peregrine, lord Willoughby, II. 117. 119. 120.
Letter to, from the queen, II. 357.
Blount, sir Charles, lord Montjoy,
II. 221. 256 et seq. 351. 427 and 8. 464. 482. 490.
Boleyn, Thomas, earl of Wilts, 10.
Boleyn, Anne, 2, 3, and 4.
Conduct respecting queen Catherine, 16.
Disgrace, 16. 17.
Conduct as affecting her daughter, 19 et seq.
Bonner, bishop, 148. 150. 183.
Bourchier family, 49. 50.
----, Henry, earl of Essex, 7.
Brandon, Charles, duke of Suffolk, 9. II. 117 et seq.
----, Catherine, duchess dowager of Suffolk, 117.
Brantome, M. de, description of the court of Elizabeth, 337.
Brown, Anthony, viscount Montacute, 286.
Brown, Robert, II. 108.
Bryan, lady, her letter respecting Elizabeth, 21.
C.
Cabot, Sebastian, 444-6.
Cambridge, the queen's visit to, 368.
Cary, Henry, lord Hunsdon, 243. 387.
----, Robert, II. 315. 493.
Casimir, duke, 375. 376. II. 66.
Cavendish, Thomas, II. 307.
Cecil, Mildred, 95. 96. 127.
----, William, lord Burleigh, 96. 233.
Account of, 234.
Employed in the settlement of religion, 320.
Takes precaution against the poisoning of the queen, 344.
Draws a proclamation respecting portraits of the queen, 362.
Directs her reception at Cambridge, 368 et seq.
Letters of, to sir H. Norris, 417. 452 et seq.
Attempt made to ruin him, 463, 4, and 5.
His advice to the duke of Norfolk, 467.
Created lord Burleigh, II. 4.
Letter to the earl of Shrewsbury, 34.
Character compared with sir N. Bacon's, II. 82.
Anecdote of, 87.
Discussions with Whitgift, 112 et seq.
Anger of the queen against, 186.
Restored to favor, 193.
Warning to Essex, 405.
Death and character of, 406.
Cecil, sir Thomas, II. 220.
Cecil, sir Robert, II. 221. 285. 372.
Appointed secretary, 378. 401. 478.
Chaloner, sir Thomas, 287.
His letter respecting the queen and lord R. Dudley, 289.
Chancellor, Richard, 445 and 6.
Charles IX. of France, a suitor to Elizabeth, 392. II. 24. 26.
Cheke, sir John, 154. 222.
Classical literature, decline of, 198.
Clifford, George, earl of Cumberland, II. 214. 259.
Cook, sir Anthony, 154.
Courtney, W., marquis of Exeter, 7. 43. 44
----, Edward, earl of Devon, 133. 137. 162. 184 and 5.
Cox, bishop, 154. 361.
Cranmer, archbishop, 5. 12. 19. 47. 55. 56.
Cromwel, Thomas, earl of Essex, 47 to 52.
D.
Dacre, Leonard, 471. 481, 2, and 3.
Darnley, lord, 386. 416.
Davison, secretary, conduct of, respecting the queen of Scots,
II. 184 et seq. 187. 188 to 192. 267 to 270.
Dee, Dr., II. 41.
Denmark, prince of, proposed in marriage to Elizabeth, 115.
Desmond, earl of, II. 123.
Devereux, Walter, earl of Essex, II. 45 to 51.
Devereux, Robert, earl of Essex, II. 51.
Appointed general of horse, 226.
His position at court, 237 et seq.
Expedition to Portugal, 252 et seq. 254.
Duel with sir Charles Blount, 256.
Letters to Davison, 267 et seq.
Marriage, 270.
Campaign in France, 280.
Trait of, 367.
Connexion with Anthony and Francis Bacon, 346.
Conduct respecting Lopez, 352.
View of his and the Cecil parties, 372.
His conduct at Cadiz, 374 et seq.
Traits of, 392.
His Island voyage, 395.
His quarrel with the queen, 402.
Conduct in Irish affairs, 427.
Service in Ireland, 434 to 440.
Return to England, 440.
Disgrace, 446 to 454.
Censure on, 454.
Dangerous designs, 460.
Intrigues with the king of Scots, 465.
Insurrection, 465 to 471.
Trial, after-conduct, and death, 471 to 478.
Story respecting his ring. 497.
Discovery, voyages of, II. 310 et seq.
Dorset, marchioness dowager, 8.
Douglas, lady Margaret, 27. 28. 60.
_See_ Lenox, countess of.
Drake, sir Francis, II. 83. 166. 198. 225. 227. 252. 254.
Death and character of, 362.
Drama, progress of the, II. 321.
Dudley, John, duke of Northumberland,
12. 50. 73 to 75. 109. 117. 119. 124. 129. 131.
Dudley, Ambrose, earl of Warwick, 359. 360.
Dudley, Robert, earl of Leicester, 12. 151. 184.
Appointed master of the horse, and favored by Elizabeth, 240.
Knight of the garter, 265.
Suspected of procuring the death of his wife, 291.
His rivalry with the earl of Arundel, 299.
Proposed as a husband to the queen of Scots, 365.
Created earl of Leicester, 373.
His declarations to Melvil, 385.
Means taken by the queen to humble him, 392.
His conduct to the duke of Norfolk, 397. 467.
Suspected of poisoning sir N. Throgmorton, II. 15.
His connexion with lady Sheffield, 31.
Entertains Elizabeth at Kennelworth, 43.
Letter of the queen respecting him, 53.
Opposes the French marriage, 56.
Marries the countess of Essex, 68.
Imprisoned, 69.
Suspected of attempting the life of Simier, 70.
Instances of his oppressive conduct, 129. 130.
Book written against him, 136 et seq.
Appointed commander in Holland, 150.
His letter respecting sir P. Sidney, 159.
Returns from Holland, 164 and 5.
Advises the poisoning of the queen of Scots, 169.
Consequences of his conduct in Holland, 205. 207.
Appointed commander in chief, 227.
Desires the office of lieutenant in England and Ireland, 229.
His death and character, 233.
Dyer, sir Edward, II. 303.
E.
Edward VI. 37. 58. 59.
Letters to him from Elizabeth, 103 and 105. 126.
Eric king of Sweden offers marriage to Elizabeth, 217. 263.
Expected in England, 346.
Exeter, marchioness, 9. 46. 151.
F.
Fence, schools of, regulated, 402.
Ferrers, George, master of the king's pastimes, 122 et seq.
Fletcher, bishop, II. 388.
Fitzalan, Henry, earl of Arundel, 72. 73. 109. 110. 131.
Entertains Elizabeth at Nonsuch, 279.
A suitor to her, 299.
In disgrace, 394.
Fitzgerald, family of, 31 et seq.
Fitzgerald, Gerald, adventures of, 33 et seq.
Fortescue, sir John, II. 251.
G.
Gardiner, bishop, 47. 51. 148, 149 et seq.
Brings in a bill against Elizabeth, 167. 178. 181. 183.
Conduct towards Elizabeth, 189. 190. 194.
Death, 196.
Gascoigne, George, II. 303.
Gresham, sir Thomas, II. 1.
Grenville, sir Richard, II. 306.
Greville, Fulk, II. 95 et seq. 347. 479.
Grey, Arthur, lord, II. 122.
----, lady Catherine, 125. 152. 350.
----, Henry, marquis of Dorset, 7. 117. 161.
----, lady Jane, 79. 96, 97. 125. 130. 161.
----, lord Leonard, 54, 55.
----, lady Mary, 403.
Grindal, archbishop, 326. II. 110.
H.
Hales, sir James, 152.
----, John, 366.
Hall, reverend Joseph, and his satires, II. 419.
Praise of Elizabeth, 504.
Harrington, sir John, the elder, 91.
His verses on the death of admiral Seymour, 91.
--To bishop Gardiner, 179.
Gratitude of Elizabeth towards, 194.
Harrington, sir John, the younger, II. 366. 422.
Letter to, 430.
Letters of, 443, 444. 483. 488.
Hastings, Henry, earl of Huntingdon, II. 388.
Hatton, sir Christopher, II. 10. 33. 204. 285.
Henry VIII. 1. 13. 24. 26. 48. 52, 53. 56. 60. 62. 70.
Herbert, William, earl of Pembroke, 268.
Holles, sir William, II. 318.
Holstein, duke of, suitor to Elizabeth, 263, 264.
Howard, Catherine, 53. 55. 56.
----, Henry, earl of Surry, 50. 56, 66 et seq.
----, lord Henry, II. 131.
----, lady Mary, 8.
----, Philip, earl of Arundel, II. 19. 131. 146. 241.
----, Thomas, third duke of Norfolk, 9. 30. 51. 64. 69. 146. 148.
----, ----, fourth duke of Norfolk, 147. 242. 285.
How regarded by the queen, 395 et seq.
Conduct towards the queen of Scots, 456 to 463.
Towards Cecil, 463 to 466.
His intrigues, 466 to 470.
Renewal of them, II. 12.
Trial, death and issue, 15 to 19.
----, lord Thomas, 11. 27.
----, ---- ---- II. 306. 374.
----, William, lord Effingham, II. 242.
----, Charles, lord Effingham, II. 8. 224. 374 et seq.
----, lord William, II. 19. 131.
Humphreys, Dr. Lawrence, 414.
I.
Impresses, 295.
Ivan Basilowitz, Czar, 444. 446, 7 and 8. II. 120.
J.
James VI of Scotland, 407. 421. 261 et seq.
Conduct by which he offends Elizabeth, 410 et seq.
Her correspondence with him, 412.
Sermon respecting him, 416.
Jewel, bishop, 284. 330.
K.
Knolles, sir Francis, 243. 253. II. 112.
L.
Lee, sir Henry, II. 8. 259.
Leicester, countess of, queen's behaviour towards, II. 401.
Lenox, countess of, 387. 417, 418. II. 38.
Lilly, John, II. 92 et seq.
M.
Manners, Henry, earl of Rutland, 265, 266.
Markham, Gervase, II. 320.
----, Isabella, 194.
Mary, queen of England, 29.
Persecuted for religion, 111 et seq.
Mounts the throne, 131.
Letter from her to Elizabeth, 139.
Marriage of, 181.
Sends an embassy to the pope, 182.
Her reception of Elizabeth, 191.
Letter of Elizabeth to, 212.
Visits Elizabeth at Hatfield, 215.
Receives her at Richmond, 216.
Establishes an ecclesiastical commission, 221.
Her melancholy and death, 227.
Mary, queen of Scots, 58. 59.
Becomes a widow--quarrels with Elizabeth--returns to Scotland, 334 et seq.
Falls in love with Darnley, 386.
Suspected of his death, 416.
Letter to, from Elizabeth, 419.
Married to Bothwell, 419 et seq.
Defeated and imprisoned, 420.
Released, 436.
Takes refuge in England, 437 et seq.
Writes to Elizabeth, 338.
Submits to her judgement, 441.
Retracts, 442.
Is committed to Bolton-castle, 443.
Consents to send commissioners to York, ib.
Signs the association, II. 140.
Conduct of, 140 et seq.
Concern in Babington's plot, 167.
Consultations respecting, 168.
Seizure of her papers, 169.
Her removal to Fotheringay, 170.
Trial, 171 et seq.
Sentence, 175.
Death, 186.
Remarks on her character, 193 et seq.
Medici, Catherine de', 449. 450 et seq.
Melvil, sir James, 374.
Sent to announce the birth of James of Scotland, 407.
Mildmay, sir Walter, II. 249.
Mirror for Magistrates, 200 et seq.
Morice, James, II. 333.
Murray, earl of, regent of Scotland, 421. 435. 455 et seq. 469.
His assassination, 484 and 5.
N.
Newspapers, introduction of, II. 232.
Nevil, Charles, earl of Westmorland, 473 to 477.
Nobility, great power of, 31.
Norfolk, duchess dowager of, 8.
Norris, Henry, 18.
----, sir John, II. 252. 278. 351. 399.
Norton, family of, 478 and 9.
Norwich, queen's entertainment at, II. 58 to 60.
O.
Oxford, queen's visit to, 413.
P.
Paget, lord, 187, 188. 224.
Parker, archbishop, 14. 322. 391.
Parr, Catherine, 60, 61. 76.
----, marquis of Northampton, 256.
Parry, Dr., II. 143 to 146.
Parry, sir Thomas, 233.
Paulet, sir Amias, letter of the queen to, II. 170.
----, marquis of Winchester, 271.
Percy, Henry, earl of Northumberland, 20. 118.
Percy, Henry, earl of Northumberland, 473 to 7.
----, Thomas, earl of Northumberland, II. 131. 149.
----, Henry, earl of Northumberland, II. 219.
Perrot, sir John, II. 124. 289.
Philip II. 181. 183.
Conduct towards Elizabeth, 184. 186. 188. and 192. 195.
Sends the duchess of Parma and Loraine to her, 214.
Offers her his hand, 259.
Becomes her enemy, 339. 449. 454. II. 352.
Pickering, sir William, a suitor of the queen, 298.
Pilkington, bishop of Durham, curious sermon by, 341.
Pole, Arthur and Edmund, plot of, 354.
----, Geffrey, 42. 151.
----, Henry, viscount Montacute, 43.
----, Margaret, countess of Salisbury, 42, 43. 46. 54.
----, Reginald, 40. 182. 198. 238.
Pope, sir Thomas, 136. 192, 193.
Mention of Elizabeth, 198.
Gives entertainments to her, 210. 216.
Writes to the queen respecting her, 219.
Puttenham's Art of Poesy, II. 293.
R.
Raleigh, sir Walter, II. 124 to 128. 223. 256. 313. 359. 393. 396. 458. 478.
Ratcliffe, Thomas, earl of Sussex, 397.
Letters of to the queen, 423.
To Cecil, 465 and 6.
Conduct as president of the North, 476. 480.
Campaign in Scotland, 484.
Behaviour respecting Leicester, II. 69.
Favors the French match, 71.
Death of, 121.
----, Egremond, 480. 481. II. 121 et seq.
Royal Progresses, 275.
Royal succession, vague ideas on, 25, 26.
Rudd, bishop, sermon of, before the queen, II. 309.
S.
Sackville, sir Richard, 242. 433.
Sackville, Thomas, lord Buckhurst, 199. 433. II. 207, 208.
Sampson, Dr. Thomas, offends the queen, 340.
Savoy, duke of, offered to Elizabeth in marriage, 173. 213.
Seymour, Edward, duke of Somerset, 39. 64. 74. 76. 107 to 110. 120.
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Memoirs of the Court of Queen ElizabethChapter XXVII: 1599 to 1603 (3)
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