Chapter XXVIII: Appendix: To the Reign of James I (3)

[Footnote 20: NOTE T, p. 216. Mary’s extreme animosity against Elizabeth may easily be conceived, and it broke out about this tune in an incident which may appear curious. While the former queen was kept in custody by the earl of Shrewsbury, she lived during a long time in great intimacy with the countess; but that lady entertaining a jealousy of an amour between her and the earl, their friendship was converted into enmity; and Mary took a method of revenge, which at once gratified her spite against the countess and that against Elizabeth. She wrote to the queen, informing her of all the malicious, scandalous stories which, she said, the countess of Shrewsbury had reported of her: that Elizabeth had given a promise of marriage to a certain person, whom she afterwards often admitted to her bed: that she had been equally indulgent to Simier, the French agent, and to the duke of Anjou: that Hatton was also one of her paramours, who was even disgusted with her excessive love and fondness: that though she was on other occasions avaricious to the last degree, as well as ungrateful, and kind to very few, she spared no expense in gratifying her amorous passions: that notwithstanding her licentious amours, she was not made like other women; and all those who courted her in marriage would in the end be disappointed; that she was so conceited of her beauty, as to swallow the most extravagant flattery from her courtiers, who could not, on these occasions, forbear even sneering at her for her folly: that it was usual for them to tell her that the lustre of Her beauty dazzled them like that of the sun, and they could not behold it with a fixed eye. She added that the countess had said, that Mary’s best policy would be to engage her son to make love to the queen; nor was there any danger that such a proposal would be taken for mockery; so ridiculous was the opinion which she had entertained of her own charms. She pretended that the countess had represented her as no less odious in her temper than profligate in her manners, and absurd in her vanity: that she had so beaten a young woman of the name of Scudamore, as to break that lady’s finger; and in order to cover over the matter, it was pretended that the accident had proceeded from the fall of a candlestick: that she had cut another across the hand with a knife, who had been so unfortunate as to offend her. Mary added, that the countess had informed her, that Elizabeth had suborned Rolstone to pretend friendship to her, in order to debauch her, and thereby throw infamy on her rival. See Murden’s State Papers, p. 558. This imprudent and malicious letter was written a very little before the detection of Mary’s conspiracy; and contributed, no doubt, to render the proceedings against her the more rigorous. How far all these imputations against Elizabeth can be credited, may perhaps appear doubtful; but her extreme fondness for Leicester, Hatton, and Essex, not to mention Mountjoy and others, with the curious passages between her and Admiral Seymour, contained in Haynes, render her chastity very much to be suspected. Her self-conceit with regard to beauty, we know from other undoubted authority to have been extravagant. Even when she was a very old woman, she allowed her courtiers to flatter her with regard to her “excellent beauties.” Birch, vol. ii. p. 442, 443. Her passionate temper may also be proved from many lively instances; and it was not unusual with her to beat her maids of honor. See the Sidney Papers, vol. ii. p. 38. The blow she gave to Essex before the privy council is another instance. There remains in the Museum a letter of the earl of Huntingdon’s, in which he complains grievously of the queen’s pinching his wife very sorely, on account of some quarrel between them. Had this princess been born in a private station, she would not have been very amiable; but her absolute authority, at the same time that it gave an uncontrolling swing to her violent passions, enabled her to compensate her infirmities by many great and signal virtues.]

[Footnote 21: NOTE U, p. 226. Camden, p. 525. This evidence was that of Curie, her secretary, whom she allowed to be a very honest man; and who, as well as Nau, had given proofs of his integrity, by keeping so long such important secrets, from whose discovery he could have reaped the greatest profit. Mary, after all, thought that she had so little reason to complain of Curie’s evidence, that she took care to have him paid a considerable sum by her will, which she wrote the day before her death. Goodall, vol. i. p. 413. Neither did she forget Nau, though less satisfied in other respects with his conduct. Id. ibid.]

[Footnote 24: NOTE X, p. 226. The detail of this conspiracy is to be found in a letter of the queen of Scots to Charles Paget, her great confidant. This letter is dated the 20th of May, 1586, and is contained in Dr. Forbes’s manuscript collections, at present in the possession of Lord Royston. It is a copy attested by Curie, Mary’s secretary, and endorsed by Lord Burleigh. What proves its authenticity beyond question is, that we find in Murden’s Collection, (p. 516,) that Mary actually wrote that very day a letter to Charles Paget; and further she mentions, in the manuscript letter, a letter of Charles Paget’s of the 10th of April. Now we find by Murden, (p. 506,) that Charles Paget did actually write her a letter of that date.

This violence of spirit is very consistent with Mary’s character. Her maternal affection was too weak to oppose the gratification of her passions, particularly her pride, her ambition, and her bigotry. Her son, having made some fruitless attempts to associate her with him in the title, and having found the scheme impracticable on account of the prejudices of his Protestant subjects, at last desisted from that design and entered into an alliance with England, without comprehending his mother. She was in such a rage at this undutiful behavior, as she imagined it, that she wrote to Queen Elizabeth, that she no longer cared what became of him or herself in the world; the greatest satisfaction she could have before her death, was, to see him and all his adherents become a signal example of tyranny, ingratitude and impiety, and undergo the vengeance of God for their wickedness. She would find in Christendom other heirs, and doubted not to put her inheritance in such hands as would retain the firmest hold of it. She cared not, after taking this revenge, what became of her body. The quickest death would then be the most agreeable to her. And she assured her that, if he persevered, she would disown him for her son, would give him her malediction, would disinherit him, as well of his present possessions as of all he could expect by her; abandoning him not only to her subjects to treat him as they had done her, but to all strangers to subdue and conquer him. It was in vain to employ menaces against her: the fear of death or other misfortune would never induce her to make one step or pronounce one syllable beyond what she had determined. She would rather perish with honor, in maintaining the dignity to which God had raised her, than degrade herself by the least pusillanimity, or act what was unworthy of her station and of her race. Murden, p. 566, 567.

James said to Courcelles, the French ambassador, that he had seen a letter under her own hand, in which she threatened to disinherit him, and said that he might betake him to the lordship of Darnley; for that was all he had by his father. Courcelles’ Letter, a MS. of Dr. Campbell’s. There is in Jebb (vol. ii. p. 573) a letter of hers, where she throws out the same menace against him.

We find this scheme of seizing the king of Scots, and delivering him into the hands of the pope or the king of Spain, proposed by Morgan to Mary. See Murden, p. 525. A mother must be very violent to whom one would dare to make such a proposal; but it seems she assented to it. Was not such a woman very capable of murdering her husband, who had so grievously offended her?]

[Footnote 25: NOTE Y, p. 227. The volume of state papers collected by Murden, prove, beyond controversy, that Mary was long in close correspondence with Babington, (p. 513, 516, 532, 533.) She entertained a like correspondence with Ballard, Morgan, and Charles Paget, and laid a scheme with them for an insurrection, and for the invasion of England by Spain (p. 528,531.) The same papers show, that there had been a discontinuance of Babington’s correspondence, agreeably to Camden’s narration. See Slate Papers, (p. 513,) where Morgan recommends it to Queen Mary to renew her correspondence with Babington. These circumstances prove, that no weight can be laid on Mary’s denial of guilt, and that her correspondence with Babington contained particulars which could not be avowed.]

[Footnote 26: NOTE Z, p. 227. There are three suppositions by which the letter to Babington may be accounted for, without allowing Mary’s concurrence in the conspiracy for assassinating Elizabeth. The first is, that which she seems herself to have embraced, that her secretaries had received Babington’s letter, and had, without any treacherous intention, ventured of themselves to answer it, and had never communicated the matter to her. But it is utterly improbable, if not impossible, that a princess of so much sense and spirit should, in an affair of that importance, be so treated by her servants who lived in the house with her, and who had every moment an opportunity of communicating the secret to her. If the conspiracy failed, they must expect to suffer the severest punishment from the court of England; if it succeeded, the lightest punishment which they could hope for from their own mistress, must be disgrace, on account of their temerity. Not to mention, that Mary’s concurrence was in some degree requisite for effecting the design of her escape. It was proposed to attack her guards while she was employed in hunting; she must therefore concert the time and place with the conspirators. The second supposition is, that these two secretaries were previously traitors; and being gained by Walsingham, had made such a reply in their mistress’s cipher, as might involve her in the guilt of the conspiracy. But these two men had lived long with the queen of Scots, had been entirely trusted by her, and had never fallen under suspicion either with her or her partisans. Camden informs us, that Curle afterwards claimed a reward from Walsingham, on pretence of some promise; but Walsingham told him that he owed him no reward, and that he had made no discoveries on his examination which were not known with certainty from other quarters. The third supposition is, that neither the queen nor the two secretaries, Nau and Curle, ever saw Babington’s letter, or made any answer; but that Walsingham, having deciphered the former, forged a reply. But this supposition implies the falsehood of the whole story, told by Camden, of Gifford’s access to the queen of Scots’ family, and Paulet’s refusal to concur in allowing his servants to be bribed. Not to mention, that as Nau’s and Curle’s evidence must, on this supposition, have been extorted by violence and terror, they would necessarily have been engaged, for their own justification, to have told the truth afterwards; especially upon the accession of James. But Camden informs us, that Nau, even after that event, persisted still in his testimony.

We must also consider, that the two last suppositions imply such a monstrous criminal conduct in Walsingham, and consequently in Elizabeth, (for the matter could be no secret to her,) as exceeds all credibility. If we consider the situation of things, and the prejudices of the times, Mary’s consent to Babington’s conspiracy appears much more natural and probable. She believed Elizabeth to be a usurper and a heretic. She regarded her as a personal and a violent enemy. She knew that schemes for assassinating heretics were very familiar in that age, and generally approved of by the court of Rome and the zealous Catholics. Her own liberty and sovereignty were connected with the success of this enterprise; and it cannot appear strange, that where men of so much merit as Babington could be engaged by bigotry alone in so criminal an enterprise, Mary, who was actuated by the same motive, joined to so many others, should have given her consent to a scheme projected by her friends. We may be previously certain, that if such a scheme was ever communicated to her, with any probability of success, she would assent to it; and it served the purpose of Walsingham and the English ministry to facilitate the communication of these schemes, as soon as they had gotten an expedient for intercepting her answer, and detecting the conspiracy. Now, Walsingham’s knowledge of the matter is a supposition necessary to account for the letter delivered to Babington.

As to the not punishing of Nau and Curle by Elizabeth, it never is the practice to punish lesser criminals, who had given evidence against the principal.

But what ought to induce us to reject these three suppositions is, that they must all of them be considered as bare possibilities. The partisans of Mary can give no reason for preferring one to the other. Not the slightest evidence ever appeared to support any one of them. Neither at that time, nor at any time afterwards, was any reason discovered, by the numerous zealots at home and abroad who had embraced Mary’s defence, to lead us to the belief of any of these three suppositions; and even her apologists at present seem not to have fixed on any choice among these supposed possibilities. The positive proof of two very credible witnesses, supported by the other very strong circumstances, still remains unimpeached. Babington, who had an extreme interest to have communication with the queen of Scots, believed he had found a means of correspondence with her, and had received an answer from her. He, as well as the other conspirators, died in that belief. There has not occurred, since that time, the least argument to prove that they were mistaken; can there be any reason at present to doubt the truth of their opinion? Camden, though a professed apologist for Mary, is constrained to tell the story in such a manner as evidently supposes her guilt. Such was the impossibility of finding any other consistent account, even by a man of parts, who was a contemporary!

In this light might the question have appeared even during Mary’s trial. But what now puts her guilt beyond all controversy is the following passage of her letter to Thomas Morgan, dated the 27th of July, 1586: “As to Babington, he hath both kindly and honestly offered himself and all his means to be employed any way I would; whereupon I hope to have satisfied him by two of my several letters since I had his; and the rather for that I opened him the way, thereby I received his with your aforesaid.” Murden, p. 533. Babington confessed that he had offered her to assassinate the queen. It appears by this that she had accepted the offer; so that all the suppositions of Walsingham’s forgery, or the temerity or treachery of her secretaries, fall to the ground.]

[Footnote 27: NOTE AA, p 231 This parliament granted the queen a supply of a subsidy and two fifteenths. They adjourned, and met again after the execution of the queen of Scots; when there passed some remarkable incidents, which it may be proper not to omit. We shall give them in the words of Sir Simon D’Ewes, (p. 410, 411,) which are almost wholly transcribed from Townshend’s Journal. On Monday, the 27th of February, Mr. Cope, first using some speeches touching the necessity of a learned ministry, and the amendment of things amiss in the ecclesiastical estate, offered to the house a bill and a book written; the bill containing a petition, that it might be enacted, that all laws now in force touching ecclesiastical government should be void; and that it might be enacted, that the Book of Common Prayer now offered, and none other, might be received into the church to be used. The book contained the form of prayer and administration of the sacraments, with divers rites and ceremonies to be used in the church; and he desired that the book might be read. Whereupon Mr. Speaker in effect used this speech: For that her majesty before this time had commanded the house not to meddle with this matter, and that her majesty had promised to take order in those causes, he doubted not but to the good satisfaction of all her people, he desired that it would please them to spare the reading of it. Notwithstanding the house desired the reading of it. Whereupon Mr. Speaker desired the clerk to read. And the court being ready to read it, Mr. Dalton made a motion against the reading of it, saying, that it was not meet to be read, and it did appoint a new form of administration of the sacraments and ceremonies of the church, to the discredit of the Book of Common Prayer and of the whole state; and thought that this dealing would bring her majesty’s indignation against the house, thus to enterprise this dealing with those things which her majesty especially had taken into her own charge and direction. Whereupon Mr. Lewkenor spake, showing the necessity of preaching and of a learned ministry, and thought it very fit that the petition and book should be read. To this purpose spake Mr. Hurleston and Mr. Bainbrigg; and so, the time being passed, the house broke up, and neither the petition nor book read. This done, her majesty sent to Mr. Speaker, as well for this petition and book, as for that other petition and book for the like effect, that was delivered the last session of parliament, which Mr. Speaker sent to her majesty. On Tuesday, the 28th of February, her majesty sent for Mr. Speaker, by occasion whereof the house did not sit. On Wednesday, the first of March, Mr. Wentworth delivered to Mr. Speaker certain articles, which contained questions touching the liberties of the house, and to some of which he was to answer, and desired they might be read. Mr. Speaker desired him to spare his motion until her majesty’s pleasure was further known touching the petition and book lately delivered into the house; but Mr. Wentworth would not be so satisfied, but required his articles might be read. Mr. Wentworth introduced his queries by lamenting that he, as well as many others, were deterred from speaking by their want of knowledge and experience in the liberties of the house; and the queries were as follows: Whether this council were not a place for any member of the same here assembled, freely and without controlment of any person or danger of laws, by bill or speech to utter any of the griefs of this commonwealth whatsoever, touching the service of God, the safety of the prince, and this noble realm? Whether that great honor may be done unto God, and benefit and service unto the prince and state, without free speech in this council that may be done with it? Whether there be any council which can make, add, or diminish from the laws of the realm, but only this council of parliament? Whether it be not against the orders of this council to make any secret or matter of weight, which is here in hand, known to the prince or any other, concerning the high service of God, prince, or state without the consent of the house? Whether the speaker or any other may interrupt any member of this council in his speech used in this house tending to any of the forenamed services? Whether the speaker may rise when he will, any matter being propounded, without consent of the house or not? Whether the speaker may overrule the house in any matter or cause there in question, or whether he is to be ruled or overruled in any matter or not? Whether the prince and state can continue, and stand, and be maintained, without this council of parliament, not altering the government of the state? At the end of these questions, says Sir Simon D’Ewes, I found set down this short memorial ensuing; by which it may be perceived both what Serjeant Puckering, the speaker, did with the said questions after he had received them, and what became also of this business, viz.: “These questions Mr. Puckering pocketed up, and showed Sir Thomas Henage, who so handled the matter, that Mr. Wentworth went to the Tower, and the questions not at all moved. Mr. Buckler of Essex herein brake his faith in forsaking the matter, etc., and no more was done.” After setting down, continues Sir Simon D’Ewes, the said business of Mr. Wentworth in the original journal book, there follows only this short conclusion of the day itself, viz.: “This day, Mr. Speaker being sent for to the queen’s majesty, the house departed.” On Thursday, the 2d of March, Mr. Cope, Mr. Lewkenor, Mr. Hurleston, and Mr. Bainbrigg were sent for to my lord chancellor and by divers of the privy council, and from thence were sent to the Tower. On Saturday the 4th day of March, Sir John Higham made a motion to this house, for that divers good and necessary members thereof were taken from them, that it would please them to be humble petitioners to her majesty for the restitution of them again to this house. To which speeches Mr. Vice-chamberlain answered, that if the gentlemen were committed for matter within the compass of the privilege of the house, then there might be a petition; but if not, then we should give occasion to her majesty’s further displeasure; and therefore advised to stay until they heard more, which could not be long. And further, he said, touching the book and the petition, her majesty had, for divers good causes best known to herself, thought fit to suppress the same, without any further examination thereof; and yet thought it very unfit for her majesty to give any account of her doings. But whatsoever Mr. Vice-chamberlain pretended, it is most probable these members were committed for intermeddling with matters touching the church, which her majesty had often inhibited, and which had caused so much disputation and so many meetings between the two houses the last parliament.

This is all we find of the matter in Sir Simon D’Ewes and Townshend; and it appears that those members who had been committed, were detained in custody till the queen thought proper to release them. These questions of Mr. Wentworth are curious; because they contain some faint dawn of the present English constitution, though suddenly eclipsed by the arbitrary government of Elizabeth. Wentworth was indeed by his Puritanism, as well as his love of liberty, (for these two characters, of such unequal merit, arose and advanced together,) the true forerunner of the Hambdens, the Pyms, and the Hollises, who in the next age, with less courage, because with less danger, rendered their principles so triumphant. I shall only ask, whether it be not sufficiently clear from all these transactions, that in the two succeeding reigns it was the people who encroached upon the sovereign, not the sovereign who attempted, as is pretended, to usurp upon the people?]

[Footnote 28: NOTE BB, p. 259. The queen’s speech in the camp of Tilbury was in these words. “My loving people, we have been persuaded, by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes for fear of treachery; but assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear: I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects. And therefore I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved in the midst and heat of the battle to live or die amongst you all; to lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honor and my blood; even in the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and of a king of England too; and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms; to which rather than any dishonor should grow by me, I myself will take up arms. I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already, by your forwardness, that you have deserved rewards and crowns; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time, my lieutenant-general shall be in my stead; than whom never prince commanded a more noble and worthy subject; not doubting, by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valor in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people.”]

[Footnote 29: NOTE CC, p. 264. Strype, vol. iii. p. 525. On the 4th of September, boon after the dispersion of the Spanish armada, died the earl of Leicester, the queen’s great but unworthy favorite. Her affection for him continued to the last. He had discovered no conduct in any of his military enterprises, and was suspected of cowardice; yet she intrusted him with the command of her armies during the danger of the Spanish invasion; a partiality which might have proved fatal to her, had the duke of Parma been able to land his troops in England. She had even ordered a commission to be drawn for him, constituting him her lieutenant, in the kingdoms of England and Ireland; but Burleigh and Hatton represented to her the danger of intrusting such unlimited authority in the hands of any subject, and prevented the execution of that design. No wonder that a conduct so unlike the usual jealousy of Elizabeth, gave reason to suspect that her partiality was founded on some other passion than friendship. But Elizabeth seemed to carry her affection to Leicester no farther than the grave; she ordered his goods to be disposed of at a public sale, in order to reimburse herself of some debt which he owed her; and her usual attention to money was observed to prevail over her regard to the memory of the deceased. This earl was a great hypocrite, a pretender to the strictest religion, an encourager of the Puritans, and founder of hospitals.]

[Footnote 30: NOTE DD, p. 264. Strype, vol. iii. p. 542. Id. append, p. 239. There are some singular passages in this last speech, which may be worth taking notice of, especially as they came from a member who was no courtier; for he argues against the subsidy. “And first,” says he, “for the _necessity_ thereof, I cannot deny, but if it were a charge imposed upon us by her majesty’s commandment, or a demand proceeding from her majesty by way of request, that I think there is not one among us all, either so disobedient a subject in regard of our duty, or so unthankful a man in respect of the inestimable benefits which by her or from her we have received, which would not with frank consent, both of voice and heart, most willingly submit himself thereunto, without any unreverend inquiry into the causes thereof. For it is continually in the mouth of us all, that our lands, goods, and lives, are at our prince’s disposing. And it agreeth very well with that position of the civil law, which sayeth, ‘Quod omnia regis aunt,’ But how? ‘Ita tamen ut omnium sint. Ad regem enim potestas omnium pertinet; ad singulos proprietas.’ So that although it be most true that her majesty hath over ourselves and our goods ‘potestatem imperandi,’ yet it is true, that until that power command, (which, no doubt, will not command without very just cause,) every subject hath his own ‘proprietatem possidendi.’ Which power and commandment from her majesty, which we have not yet received, I take it, (saving reformation,) that we are freed from the cause of _necessity_. And the cause of necessity is the dangerous estate of the commonwealth,” etc. The tenor of the speech pleads rather for a general benevolence than a subsidy; for the law of Richard III. against benevolence was nevei conceived to have any force. The member even proceeds to assert, with some precaution, that it was in the power of parliament to refuse the king’s demand of a subsidy; and that there was an instance of that liberty in Heary III.’s time near four hundred years before. _Sub Fine_.]

[Footnote 31: NOTE EE, p. 266 We may judge of the extent and importance of these abuses by a speech of Bacon’s against purveyors, delivered in the first session of the first parliament of the subsequent reign, by which also we may learn that Elizabeth had given no redress to the grievances complained of. “First,” says he, “they take in kind what they ought not to take; secondly, they take in quantity a far greater proportion than cometh to your majesty’s use; thirdly, they take in an unlawful manner, in a manner, I say, directly and expressly prohibited by the several laws. For the first, I am a little to alter their name; for in stead of takers, they become taxers. Instead of taking provisions for your majesty’s service, they tax your people ‘ad redimendam vexationem;’ imposing upon them and extorting from them divers sums of money, sometimes in gross, sometimes in the nature of stipends annually paid, ‘ne noceant,’ to be freed and eased of their oppression Again, they take trees, which by law they cannot do; timber trees which are the beauty, countenance, and shelter of men’s houses; that men have long spared from their own purse and profit; that men esteem for their use and delight, above ten times the value; that are a loss which men cannot repair or recover. These do they take, to the defacing and spoiling of your subjects’ mansions and dwellings, except they may be compounded with to their own appetites. And if a gentleman be too hard for them while he is at home, they will watch their time when there is but a bailiff or a servant remaining, and put the axe to the root of the tree, ere even the master can stop it. Again, they use a strange and most unjust exaction in causing the subjects to pay poundage of their own debts, due from your majesty unto them; so as a poor man, when he has had his hay, or his wood, or his poultry (which perchance he was full loath to part with, and had for the provision of his own family, and not to put to sale) taken from him, and that not at a just price, but under the value, and cometh to receive his money, he shall have after the rate of twelve pence in the pound abated for poundage of his due payment upon so hard conditions. Nay, further, they are grown to that extremity, (as is affirmed, though it be scarce credible, save that in such persons all things are credible,) that they will take double poundage once when the debenture is made, and again the second time when the money is paid. For the second point, most gracious sovereign, touching the quantity which they take far above that which is answered to your majesty’s use; it is affirmed unto me by divers gentlemen of good report, as a matter which I may safely avouch unto your majesty, that there is no pound profit which redoundeth unto your majesty in this course, but induceth and begetteth three pound damage upon your subjects, beside the discontentment. And to the end they may make their spoil more securely, what do they? Whereas divers statutes do strictly provide, that whatsoever they take shall De registered and attested, to the end that by making a collation of that which is taken from the country and that which is answered above, their deceits might appear, they, to the end, to obscure their deceits, utterly omit the observation of this, which the law prescribeth. And therefore to descend, if it may please your majesty, to the third sort of abuse, which is of the unlawful manner of their taking, whereof this question is a branch; it is so manifold, as it rather asketh an enumeration of some of the particulars than a prosecution of all. For their price, by law they ought to take as they can agree with the subject; by abuse, they take at an imposed and enforced price. By law they ought to take but one apprizement by neighbors in the country; by abuse, they make a second apprizement at the court gate; and when the subjects’ cattle come up many miles, lean and out of plight by reason of their travel, then they prize them anew at an abated price. By law, they ought to take between sun and sun; by abuse, they take by twilight and in the night time, a time well chosen for malefactors. By law, they ought not to take in the highways, (a place by her majesty’s high prerogative protected, and by statute by special words excepted;) by abuse, they take in the highways. By law, they ought to show their commission, etc. A number of other particulars there are,” etc. Bacon’s Works, vol. iv. p. 305, 306.

Such were the abuses which Elizabeth would neither permit her parliaments to meddle with, nor redress herself. I believe it will readily be allowed, that this slight prerogative alone, which has passed almost unobserved amidst other branches of so much greater importance, was sufficient to extinguish all regular liberty. For what elector, or member of parliament, or even juryman, durst oppose the will of the court, while he lay under the lash of such an arbitrary prerogative? For a further account of the grievous and incredible oppressions of purveyors, see the Journals of the house of commons, vol. i. p. 190. There is a story of a carter, which may be worth mentioning on this occasion. “A carter had three times been at Windsor with his cart, to carry away, upon summons of a remove, some part of the stuff of her majesty’s wardrobe; and when he had repaired thither once, twice, and the third time, and that they of the wardrobe had told him the third time, that the remove held not, the carter, slapping his hand on his thigh, said, ‘Now I see that the queen is a woman as well as my wife;’ which words being overheard by her majesty, who then stood at the window, she said, ‘What a villain is this?’ and so sent him three angels to stop his mouth.” Birch’s Memoirs, vol. i. p. 155.]

[Footnote 32: NOTE FF, p. 274. This year, the nation suffered a great loss, by the death of Sir Francis Walsingham, secretary of state; a man equally celebrated for his abilities and his integrity. He had passed through many employments, had been very frugal in his expense, yet died so poor, that his family was obliged to give him a private burial. He left only one daughter, first married to Sir Philip Sidney, then to the earl of Essex, favorite of Queen Elizabeth, and lastly to the earl of Clanriearde of Ireland. The same year died Thomas Randolph, who had been employed by the queen in several embassies to Scotland; as did also the earl of Warwick, elder brother to Leicester.]

[Footnote 33: NOTE GO, p. 276. This action of Sir Richard Greenville is so singular as to merit a more particular relation. He was engaged alone with the whole Spanish fleet of fifty-three sail, which had ten thousand men on board; and from the time the fight began, which was about three in the afternoon, to the break of day next morning, he repulsed the enemy fifteen times, though they continually shifted their vessels, and hoarded with fresh men. In the beginning of the action he himself received a wound; but he continued doing his duty above deck till eleven at night, when receiving a fresh wound, he was carried down to be dressed. During this operation, he received a shot in the head, and the surgeon was killed by his side. The English began now to want powder. All their small arms were broken or become useless. Of their number, which were but a hundred and three at first, forty were killed, and almost all the rest wounded. Their masts were beat overboard, their tackle cut in pieces, and nothing but a hulk left, unable to move one way or other. In this situation, Sir Richard proposed to the ship’s company, to trust to the mercy of God, not to that of the Spaniards, and to destroy the ship with themselves, rather than yield to the enemy. The master gunner, and many of the seamen, agreed to this desperate resolution; but others opposed it and obliged Greenville to surrender himself prisoner. He died a few days after; and his last words were, “Here die I, Richard Greenville, with a joyful and quiet mind; for that I have ended my life as a true soldier ought to do, fighting for his country, queen, religion, and honor; my soul willingly departing from this body, leaving behind the lasting fame of having behaved as every valiant soldier is in his duty bound to do.” The Spaniards lost in this sharp, though unequal action, four ships, and about a thousand men; and Greenville’s vessel perished soon after, with two hundred Spaniards in her. Hacklyt’s Voyages, vol. iii. part 2, p. 169. Camden, p. 565.]

[Footnote 34: NOTE HH, p. 294. It is usual for the speaker to disqualify himself for the office; but the reasons employed by this speaker are so singular that they may be worth transcribing. “My estate,” said he, “is nothing correspondent for the maintenance of this dignity, for my father dying left me a younger brother, and nothing to me but my bare annuity. Then growing to man’s estate, and some small practice of the law, I took a wife, by whom I have had many children; the keeping of us all being a great impoverishing to my estate, and the daily living of us all nothing but my daily industry. Neither from my person not my nature doth this choice arise; for he that supplieth this place ought to be a man big and comely, stately and well-spoken, his voice great, his carriage majestical, his nature haughty, and his purse plentiful and heavy: but contrarily, the stature of my body is small, myself not so well spoken, my voice low, my carriage lawyer-like, and of the common fashion, my nature soft and bashful, my purse thin, light, and never yet plentiful. If Demosthenes, being so learned and eloquent as he was, one whom none surpassed, trembled to speak before Phocion at Athens, how much more shall I, being unlearned and unskilful to supply the place of dignity, charge, and trouble, to speak before so many Phocions as here be? yea, which is the greatest, before the unspeakable majesty and sacred personage of our dread and dear sovereign; the terror of whose countenance will appal and abase even the stoutest hearts; yea, whose very name will pull down the greatest courage? for how mightily do the estate and name of a prince deject the haughtiest stomach even of their greatest subjects? D’Ewes, p. 459.]

[Footnote 35: NOTE II, p. 299. Cabala, p. 234. Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 386. Speed, p. 877 The whole letter of Essex is so curious and so spirited, that the reader may not be displeased to read it. “My very good lord Though there is not that man this day living, whom I would sooner make judge of any question that might concern me than yourself, yet you must give me leave to tell you, that in some cases I must appeal from all earthly judges; and if any, then surely in this, when the highest judge on earth has imposed on me the heaviest punishment, without trial or hearing. Since then I must either answer your lord-ship’s argument, or else forsake mine own just defence, I will force, mine aching head to do me service for an hour. I must first deny my discontent, which was forced, to be a humorous discontent; and that it was unseasonable, or is of so long continuing, your lordship should rather condole with me than expostulate. Natural seasons are expected here below; but violent and unseasonable storms come from above. There is no tempest equal to the passionate indignation of a prince; nor yet at any time so unseasonable, as when it lighteth on those that might expect a harvest of their careful and painful labors. He that is once wounded must needs feel smart, till his hurt is cured, or the part hurt become senseless. But cure I expect none, her majesty’s heart being obdurate against me; and be without sense I cannot, being of flesh and blood. But, say you, I may aim at the end. I do more than aim; for I see an end of all my fortunes, I have set an end to all my desires. In this course do I any thing for my enemies? When I was at court, I found them absolute; and therefore I had rather they should triumph alone, than have me attendant upon their chariots. Or do I leave my friends? When I was a courtier, I could yield them no fruit of my love unto them; and now that I am a hermit, they shall bear no envy for their love towards me. Or do I forsake myself because I do enjoy myself? Or do I overthrow my fortunes, because I build not a fortune of paper walls, which every puff of wind bloweth down? Or do I ruinate mine honor, because I leave following the pursuit, or wearing the false badge or mark of the shadow of honor? Do I give courage or comfort to the foreign foe, because I reserve myself to encounter with him? or because I keep my heart from business, though I cannot keep my fortune from declining? No, no, my good lord; I give every one of these considerations its due weight; and the more I weigh them, the more I find myself justified from offending in any of them. As for the two last objections, that I forsake my country when it hath most need of me, and fail in that indissoluble duty which I owe to my sovereign, I answer, that if my country had at this time any need of my public service, her majesty, that governeth it, would not have driven me to a private life. I am tied to my country by two bonds; One public, to discharge carefully and industriously that trust which is committed to me; the other private, to sacrifice for it my life and carcass, which hath been nourished in it Of the first I am free, being dismissed, discharged, and disabled by her majesty. Of the other, nothing can free me but death; and, therefore, no occasion of my performance shall sooner offer itself but I shall meet it half way. The indissoluble duty which I owe unto her majesty is only the duty of allegiance, which Imnever have nor never can fail in. The duty of attendance is no indissoluble duty. I owe her majesty the duty of an earl, and of lord marshal of England. I have been content to do her majesty the service of a clerk; but I can never serve her as a villain of slave. But yet you say I must give way unto the time. So I do; for now that I see the storm come, I have put myself into the harbor. Seneca saith, we must give way to fortune. I know that fortune is both blind and strong, and therefore I go as far as I can out of her way. You say the remedy is not to strive. I neither strive nor seek for remedy. But you say I must yield and submit. I can neither yield myself to be guilty, nor allow the imputation laid upon me to be just. I owe so much to the Author of all truth, as I can never yield truth to be falsehood, nor falsehood to be truth. Have I given cause, you ask, and yet take a scandal when I have done? No. I gave no cause, not so much as Fimbria’s complaint against me; for I did ‘totum telum corpore recipere,’ receive the whole sword into my body. I patiently bear all, and sensibly feel all that I then received when this scandal was given me. Nay, more, when the vilest of all indignities are done unto me,” etc. This noble letter, Bacon afterwards, in pleading against Essex, called bold and presumptuous, and derogatory to her majesty. Birch’s Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 338.]

[Footnote 37: NOTE KK, P. 321. Most of Queen Elizabeth’s courtiers feigned love and desire towards her, and addressed themselves to her in the style of passion and gallantry. Sir Walter Raleigh, having fallen into disgrace, wrote the following letter to his friend, Sir Robert Cecil, with a view, no doubt, of having it shown to the queen. “My heart was never broke till this day, that I hear the queen goes away so far off, whom I have followed so many years, with so great love and desire in so many journeys, and am now left behind here in a dark prison all alone. While she was yet near at hand, that I might hear of her once in two or three days, my sorrows were the less; but even now, my heart it cast into the depth of all misery. I, that was wont to behold her riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus, the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure cheeks, like a nymph, sometimes sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometimes singing like an angel, sometimes playing like Orpheus; behold the sorrow of this world! once amiss hath bereaved me of all. O glory, that only sdineth in misfortune, what is become of thy assurance? All wounds have scars but that of fantasy: all affections their relenting but that of womankind. Who is the judge of friendship but adversity, only when is grace witnessed but in offences? There were no divinity but by reason of compassion; for revenges are brutish and mortal. All those times past, the loves, the sighs, the sorrows, the desires, cannot they weigh down one frail misfortune? Cannot one drop of gall be hid in so great heaps of sweetness? I may then conclude, ‘Spes et fortuna, valete.’ She is gone in whom I trusted; and of me hath not one thought of mercy, nor any respect of that which was Do with me now, therefore, what you list. I am more weary of life than they are desirous I should perish; which, if it had been for her, as it is by her, I had been too happily born.” Murden, 657. It is to be remarked, that this nymph, Venus, goddess, angel, was then about sixty. Yet five or six years after, she allowed the same language to be held to her. Sir Henry Unton, her ambassador in France, relates to her a conversation which he had with Henry IV. That monarch, after having introduced Unton to his mistress, the fair Gabrielle, asked him how he liked her. “I answered sparingly in her praise,” said the minister, “and told him, that if, without offence, I might speak it, I had the picture of a far more excellent mistress, and yet did her picture come far short of her perfection of beauty. As you love me, said he, show it me, if you have it about you. I made some difficulties; yet, upon his importunity, offered it to his view very secretly, holding it still in my hand. He beheld it with passion and admiration, saying, that I had reason, ‘Je me rends,’ protesting that he had never seen the like; so, with great reverence, he kissed it twice or thrice, I detaining it still in my hand. In the end, with some kind of contention, he took it from me, vowing that I might take my leave of it; for he would not forego it for any treasure; and that to possess the favor of the lovely picture, he would forsake all the world, and hold himself most happy; with many other most passionate speeches.” Murden, p. 718. For further particulars on this head, see the ingenious author of the Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors, article Essex.]

[Footnote 38: NOTE LL, P. 337.