Kitabı oku: «Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth», sayfa 46
A point of some importance to the peers of England was about this time brought to a final decision by the following circumstance. Sir Thomas, son and heir of sir Matthew Arundel of Wardour-castle, a young man of a courageous and enterprising disposition, going over to Germany, had been induced to engage as a volunteer in the wars of the emperor against the Turks; and in the assault of the city of Gran in Hungary had taken with his own hand a Turkish banner. For this and other good service, Rodolph the Second had been pleased to confer upon him the honor of count of the holy Roman empire, extending also, as usual, the title of counts and countesses to all his descendants for ever. On his return to England in the year following, the question arose whether this dignity, conferred by a foreign prince without the previous consent of his own sovereign, should entitle the bearer to rank, precedence, or any other privilege in this country.
The peers naturally opposed a concession which tended to lessen the value of their privileges by rendering them accessible through foreign channels; and her majesty, being called upon to settle the debate, pronounced the following judgement. That the closest tie of affection subsisted between sovereigns and their subjects: that as chaste wives should fix their eyes upon their husbands alone, in like manner faithful subjects should only direct theirs towards the prince whom it had pleased God to set over them. And that she would not allow her sheep to be branded with the mark of a stranger, or be taught to follow the whistle of a foreign shepherd. And to this effect she wrote to the emperor, who by a special letter had recommended sir Thomas Arundel to her favor. The decision appears to have been reasonable and politic, and would at the time be regarded as peculiarly so in the instance of honors conferred on a catholic gentleman by a catholic prince. King James, however, created sir Thomas, lord Arundel of Wardour; and he seems to have borne in common speech, the title of count117.
CHAPTER XXV
1595 to 1598
Essex and Cecil factious—Expedition to Cadiz.—Robert Cecil appointed secretary.—Notice of sir T. Bodley.—Critical situation of Essex.—Francis Bacon addresses to him a letter of advice—composes speeches for him.—Notice of Toby Matthew.—Outrages in London repressed by martial law.—Death of lord Hunsdon—of the earl of Huntingdon—of bishop Fletcher.—Anecdote of bishop Vaughan.—Book on the queen's touching for the evil.
From this period nearly of the reign of Elizabeth, her court exhibited a scene of perpetual contest between the faction of the earl of Essex and that of lord Burleigh, or rather of Robert Cecil; and so widely did the effects of this intestine division extend, that there was perhaps scarcely a single court-attendant or public functionary whose interests did not become in some mode or other involved in the debate. Yet the quarrel itself may justly be regarded as base and contemptible; no public principle was here at stake; whether religious, as in the struggles between papists and protestants which often rent the cabinet of Henry VIII.; or civil, as in those of whigs and tories by which the administrations of later times have been divided and overthrown. It was simply and without disguise a strife between individuals, for the exclusive possession of that political power and court influence of which each might without disturbance have enjoyed a share capable of contenting an ordinary ambition.
In religion there was apparently no shade of difference between the hostile leaders; neither of them had studied with so little diligence the inclinations of the queen as to persist at this time in the patronage of the puritans, though the early impressions, certainly of Essex and probably of sir Robert Cecil also, must have been considerably in favor of this persecuted sect. Still less would either venture to stand forth the advocate of the catholics; though it was among the most daring and desperate of this body that Essex was compelled at length to seek adherents, when the total ruin of his interest with his sovereign fatally compelled him to exchange the character of head of a court party for that of a conspirator and a rebel. Of the title of the king of Scots both were steady supporters; and first Essex and afterwards Cecil maintained a secret correspondence with James, who flattered each in his turn with assurances of present friendship and future favor.
On one public question alone of any considerable magnitude do the rivals appear to have been at issue;—that of the prosecution of an offensive war against Spain.
The age and the wisdom of lord Burleigh alike inclined him to a pacific policy; and though Robert Cecil, for the purpose of strengthening himself and weakening his opponent, would frequently act the patron towards particular officers,—those especially of whom he observed the earl to entertain a jealousy,—it is certain that warlike ardor made no part of his natural composition. Essex on the contrary was all on fire for military glory; and at this time he was urging the queen with unceasing importunities to make a fresh attack upon her capital enemy in the heart of his European dominions. In this favorite object, after encountering considerable opposition from her habits of procrastination and from some remaining fears and scruples, he succeeded; and the zeal of the people hastening to give full effect to the designs of her majesty, a formidable armament was fitted out in all diligence, which in June 1596 set sail for Cadiz.
Lord Howard of Effingham, as lord admiral, commanded the fleet; Essex himself received with transport the appointment of general of all the land-forces, and spared neither pains nor cost in his preparations for the enterprise. Besides his constant eagerness for action, his spirit was on this occasion inflamed by an indignation against the tyrant Philip, "which rose," according to the happy expression of one of his biographers, "to the dignity of a personal aversion118." In his letters he was wont to employ the expression, "I will make that proud king know" &c.: a phrase, it seems, which gave high offence to Elizabeth, who could not tolerate what she regarded as arrogance against a crowned head, though her bitterest foe.
Subordinate commands were given to lord Thomas Howard, second son of the late duke of Norfolk, who was at this time inclined to the party of Essex;
to Raleigh, who now affected an extraordinary deference for the earl, his secret enemy and rival; to that very able officer sir Francis Vere of the family of the earls of Oxford, who had highly distinguished himself during several years in the wars of the Low Countries; to sir George Carew, an intimate friend of sir Robert Cecil; and to some others, who formed together a council of war.
The queen herself composed on this occasion a prayer for the use of the fleet, and she sent to her land and her sea commander jointly "a letter of license to depart; besides comfortable encouragement." "But ours in particular," adds a follower of Essex, "had one fraught with all kind of promises and loving offers, as the like, since he was a favorite, he never had."
Enterprise was certainly not the characteristic of the lord admiral as a commander; and when on the arrival of the armament off Cadiz, it was proposed that an attack should be made by the fleet on the ships in the harbour, he remonstrated against the rashness of such an attempt, and prevailed on several members of the council of war to concur in his objections. In the end, however, the arguments or importunities of the more daring party prevailed; and Essex threw his hat into the sea in a wild transport of joy on learning that the admiral consented to make the attack. He was now acquainted by the admiral with the queen's secret order, dictated by her tender care for the safety of her young favorite,—that he should by no means be allowed to lead the assault;—and he promised an exact obedience to the mortifying prohibition. But, once in presence of the enemy, his impetuosity would brook no control. He broke from the station of inglorious security which had been assigned him, and rushed into the heat of the action.
The Spanish fleet was speedily driven up the harbour, under the guns of the fort of Puntal, where the admiral's ship and another first-rate were set on fire by their own crews, and the rest run aground. Of these, two fine ships fell into the hands of the English; and the lord admiral having refused to accept of any ransom for the remainder, saying that he came to consume and not to compound, they were all, to the number of fifty, burned by the Spanish admiral.
Meantime, Essex landed his men and marched them to the assault of Cadiz. The town was on this side well fortified, and the defenders, having also the advantage of the ground, received the invaders so warmly that they were on the point of being repulsed from the gate against which they had directed their attack: but Essex, just at the critical moment, rushed forward, seized his own colors and threw them over the wall; "giving withal a most hot assault unto the gate, where, to save the honor of their ensign, happy was he that could first leap down from the wall and with shot and sword make way through the thickest press of the enemy."
The town being thus stormed, was of course given up to plunder; but Essex, whose humanity was not less conspicuous than his courage, put an immediate stop to the carnage by a vigorous exertion of his authority; protected in person the women, children, and religious, whom he caused to retire to a place of safety; caused the prisoners to be treated with the utmost tenderness; and allowed all the citizens to withdraw, on payment of a ransom, before the place with its fortifications was committed to the flames. It was indeed the wish and intention of Essex to have kept possession of Cadiz; which he confidently engaged to the council of war to hold out against the Spaniards, with a force of no more than three or four thousand men, till succours could be sent from England; and with this view he had in the first instance sedulously preserved the buildings from all injury. But among his brother officers few were found prepared to second his zeal: the expedition was in great measure an adventure undertaken at the expense of private persons, who engaged in it with the hope of gain rather than glory; and as these men probably attributed the success which had hitherto crowned their arms in great measure to the surprise of the Spaniards, they were unwilling to risk in a more deliberate contest the rich rewards of valor of which they had possessed themselves.
The subsequent proposals of Essex for the annoyance of the enemy, either by an attack on Corunna, or on St. Sebastian and St. Andero, or by sailing to the Azores in quest of the homeward-bound carracks, all experienced the same mortifying negative from the members of the council of war, of whom lord Thomas Howard alone supported his opinions. But undeterred by this systematic opposition, he persevered in urging, that more might and more ought to be performed by so considerable an armament; and the lord admiral, weary of contesting the matter, sailed away at length and left him on the Spanish coast with the few ships and the handful of men which still adhered to him. Want of provisions compelled him in a short time to abandon an enterprise now desperate; and he returned full of indignation to England, where fresh struggles and new mortifications awaited him. The appointment during his absence of Robert Cecil to the office of secretary of state, instead of Thomas Bodley, afterwards the founder of the library which preserves his name,—for whom, since he had found the restoration of Davison hopeless, Essex had been straining every nerve to procure it,—gave him ample warning of all the counteraction on other points which he was doomed to experience; and was in fact the circumstance which finally established the ascendency of his adversaries: yet to an impartial eye many considerations may appear to have entirely justified on the part of the queen this preference. Where, it might be asked, could a fitter successor be found to lord Burleigh in the post which he had so long filled to the satisfaction of his sovereign and the benefit of his country, than in the son who certainly inherited all his ability;—though not, as was afterwards seen, his principles or his virtues;—and who had been trained to business as the assistant of his father and under his immediate inspection? Why should the earl of Essex interfere with an order of things so natural? On what pretext should the queen be induced to disappoint the hopes of her old and faithful servant, and to cast a stigma upon a young man of the most promising talents, who was unwearied in his efforts to establish himself in her favor?
By the queen and the people, Essex, their common favorite, was welcomed, on his safe return from an expedition to himself so glorious, with every demonstration of joy and affection, and no one appeared to sympathize more cordially than her majesty in his indignation that nothing had been attempted against the Spanish treasure-ships. On the other hand, no pains were spared by his adversaries to lessen in public estimation the glory of his exploits, by ascribing to the naval commanders a principal share in the success at Cadiz, which he accounted all his own. An anonymous narrative of the expedition which he had prepared, was suppressed by means of a general prohibition to the printers of publishing any thing whatsoever relating to that business; and no other resource was left him than the imperfect one of dispersing copies in manuscript. It was suggested to the queen by some about her, that though the treasure-ships had escaped her, she might at least reimburse herself for the expenses incurred out of the rich spoils taken at Cadiz; and no sooner had this project gained possession of her mind than she began to quarrel with Essex for his lavish distribution of prize-money. She insisted that the commanders should resign to her a large share of their gains; and she had even the meanness to cause the private soldiers and sailors to be searched before they quitted the ships, that the value of the money or other booty of which they had possessed themselves might be deducted from their pay. Her first feelings of displeasure and disappointment over, the rank and reputation of the officers concerned, and especially the brilliancy of the actual success, were allowed to cover all faults. The influence of her kinsman the lord admiral over the mind of the queen was one which daily increased in strength with her advance in age,—according to a common remark respecting family attachments; and it will appear that he finally triumphed so completely over the accusations of his youthful adversary, as to ground on this very expedition his claim of advancement to a higher title.
It was the darling hope of Essex that he might be authorized to lead without delay his flourishing and victorious army to the recovery of Calais, now held by a Spanish garrison; and he took some secret steps with the French ambassador in order to procure a request to this effect from Henry IV. to Elizabeth. But this king absolutely refused to allow the town to be recaptured by his ally, on the required condition of her retaining it at the peace as an ancient possession of the English crown; the Cecil party also opposed the design; and the disappointed general saw himself compelled to pause in the career of glory.
It was not in the disposition of Essex to support these mortifications with the calmness which policy appeared to dictate; and Francis Bacon, alarmed at the courses which he saw the earl pursuing, and already foreboding his eventual loss of the queen's favor, and the ruin of those, himself included, who had placed their dependence on him, addressed to him a very remarkable letter of caution and remonstrance, not less characteristic of his own peculiar mind than illustrative of the critical situation of him to whom it was written.
After appealing to the earl himself for the advantage which he had lately received by following his own well-meant advice, in renewing with the queen "a treaty of obsequious kindness," which "did much attemper a cold malignant humor then growing upon her majesty towards him," he repeats his counsel that he should "win the queen;" adding, "if this be not the beginning of any other course, I see no end. And I will not now speak of favor or affection, but of other correspondence and agreeableness, which, when it shall be conjoined with the other of affection, I durst wager my life… that in you she will come to question of Quid fiet homini quem rex vult honorare? But how is it now? A man of a nature not to be ruled; that hath the advantage of my affection and knoweth it; of an estate not grounded to his greatness; of a popular reputation; of a military dependence. I demand whether there can be a more dangerous image than this represented to any monarch living, much more to a lady, and of her majesty's apprehension? And is it not more evident than demonstration itself, that whilst this impression continueth in her majesty's breast, you can find no other condition than inventions to keep your estate bare and low; crossing and disgracing your actions; extenuating and blasting of your merit; carping with contempt at your nature and fashions; breeding, nourishing and fortifying such instruments as are most factious against you; repulses and scorns of your friends and dependents that are true and steadfast; winning and inveigling away from you such as are flexible and wavering; thrusting you into odious employments and offices to supplant your reputation; abusing you and feeding you with dalliances and demonstrations to divert you from descending into the serious consideration of your own case; yea and percase venturing you in perilous and desperate enterprises?"
With his usual exactness of method, he then proceeds to offer remedies for the five grounds of offence to her majesty here pointed out; amongst which the following are the most observable. That he ought to ascribe any former and irrevocable instance of an ungovernable humor in him to dissatisfaction, and not to his natural temper:—That though he sought to shun, and in some respects rightly, any imitation of Hatton or Leicester, he should yet allege them on occasion to the queen as authors and patterns, because there was no readier means to make her think him in the right course:—That when his lordship happened in speeches to do her majesty right, "for there is no such matter as flattery amongst you all," he had rather the air of paying fine compliments than of speaking what he really thought; "so that," adds he, "a man may read your formality in your countenance," whereas "it ought to be done familiarly and with an air of earnest."
That he should never be without some particulars on foot which he should seem to pursue with earnestness and affection, and then let them fall upon taking knowledge of her majesty's opposition and dislike. Of which kind the weightiest might be, if he offered to labor, in the behalf of some whom he favored, for some of the places then void, choosing such a subject as he thought her majesty likely to oppose.... A less weighty sort of particulars might be the pretence of some journeys, which at her majesty's request his lordship might relinquish; as if he should pretend a journey to see his estate towards Wales, or the like.... And the lightest sort of particulars, which yet were not to be neglected, were in his habits, apparel, wearings, gestures, and the like."
With respect to a "military dependence," which the writer regards as the most injurious impression respecting him of all, he declares that he could not enough wonder that his lordship should say the wars were his occupation, and go on in that course. He greatly rejoiced indeed, now it was over, in his expedition to Cadiz, on account of the large share of honor which he had acquired, and which would place him for many years beyond the reach of military competition. Besides that the disposal of places and other matters relating to the wars, would of themselves flow in to him as he increased in other greatness, and preserve to him that dependence entire. It was indeed a thing which, considering the times and the necessity of the service, he ought above all to retain; but while he kept it in substance, he should abolish it in shows to the queen, who loved peace, and did not love cost.
And on this account he could not so well approve of his affecting the place of earl-marshal or master of the ordnance, on account of their affinity to a military greatness, and rather recommended to his seeking the peaceful, profitable and courtly office of lord privy seal. In the same manner, with respect to the reputation of popularity, which was a good thing in itself, and one of the best flowers of his greatness both present and future, the only way was to quench it verbis, non rebus; to take all occasions to declaim against popularity and popular courses to the queen, and to tax them in all others, yet for himself, to go on as before in all his honorable commonwealth courses. "And therefore," says he, "I will not advise to cure this by dealing in monopolies or any oppressions."
The last and most curious article of all, respects his quality of a favorite. As, separated from all the other matters it could not hurt, so, joined with them, he observes that it made her majesty more fearful and captious, as not knowing her own strength. For this, the only remedy was to give place to any other favorite to whom he should find her majesty incline, "so as the subject had no ill or dangerous aspect" towards himself. "For otherwise," adds this politic adviser, "whoever shall tell me that you may not have singular use of a favorite at your devotion, I will say he understandeth not the queen's affection, nor your lordship's condition."
These crafty counsels, which steadily pursued would have laid the army, the court, and the people, and in effect the queen herself, at the feet of a private nobleman, seem to have made considerable impression for the time on the mind of Essex; though the impetuosity of his temper, joined to a spirit of sincerity, honor and generosity, which not even the pursuits of ambition and the occupations of a courtier could entirely quench, soon caused him to break loose from their intolerable restraint.
Francis Bacon, in furtherance of the plan which he had suggested to his patron of appearing to sink all other characters in that of a devoted servant of her majesty, likewise condescended to employ his genius upon a device which was exhibited by the earl on the ensuing anniversary of her accession, with great applause.
First, his page, entering the tilt-yard, accosted her majesty in a fit speech, and she in return graciously pulled off her glove and gave it to him. Some time after appeared the earl himself, who was met by an ancient hermit, a secretary of state, and a soldier; each of whom presented him with a book recommending his own course of life, and, after a little pageantry and dumb show to relieve the solemnity of the main design, pronounced a long and well-penned speech to the same effect. All were answered by an esquire, or follower of the earl, who pointed out the evils attached to each pursuit, and concluded, says our reporter, "with an excellent but too plain English, that this knight would never forsake his mistress' love, whose virtue made all his thoughts divine, whose wisdom taught him all true policy, whose beauty and worth made him at all times fit to command armies.
He showed all the defects and imperfections of their times, and therefore thought his own course of life to be best in serving his mistress.... The queen said that if she had thought there had been so much said of her, she would not have been there that night; and so went to bed." These speeches may still be read, with mingled admiration and regret, amongst the immortal works of Francis Bacon. In majesty of diction and splendor of allusion they are excelled by none of his more celebrated pieces; and with such a weight of meaning are they fraught, that they who were ignorant of the serious purpose which he had in view might wonder at the prodigality of the author in employing massy gold and real gems on an occasion which deserved nothing better than tinsel and false brilliants. That full justice might be done to the eloquence of the composition, the favorite part of the esquire was supported by Toby Matthew, whose father was afterwards archbishop of York; a man of a singular and wayward disposition, whose prospects in life were totally destroyed by his subsequent conversion to popery; but whose talents and learning were held in such esteem by Bacon, that he eagerly engaged his pen in the task of translating into Latin some of the most important of his own philosophical works. Such were the "wits, besides his own," of which the munificent patronage of Essex had given him "the command!"
A few miscellaneous occurrences of the years 1595 and 1596 remain to be noticed.
The size of London, notwithstanding many proclamations and acts of parliament prohibiting the erection of any new buildings except on the site of old ones, had greatly increased during the reign of Elizabeth; and one of the first effects of its rapid growth was to render its streets less orderly and peaceful. The small houses newly erected in the suburbs being crowded with poor, assembled from all quarters, thefts became frequent; and a bad harvest having plunged the lower classes into deeper distress, tumults and outrages ensued. In June 1595 great disorders were committed on Tower-hill; and the multitude having insulted the lord mayor who went out to quell them, Elizabeth took the violent and arbitrary step of causing martial law to be proclaimed in her capital. Sir Thomas Wilford, appointed provost-marshal for the occasion, paraded the streets daily with a body of armed men ready to hang all rioters in the most summary manner; and five of these offenders suffered for high treason on Tower-hill, without resistance on the part of the people, or remonstrance on that of the parliament, against so flagrant a violation of the dearest rights of Englishmen.
Lord Hunsdon, the nearest kinsman of the queen, whose character has been already touched upon, died in 1596. It is related that Elizabeth, on hearing of his illness, finally resolved to confer upon him the title of earl of Wiltshire, to which he had some claim as nephew and heir male to sir Thomas Boleyn, her majesty's grandfather, who had borne that dignity. She accordingly made him a gracious visit, and caused the patent and the robes of an earl to be brought and laid upon his bed; but the old man, preserving to the last the blunt honesty of his character, declared, that if her majesty had accounted him unworthy of that honor while living, he accounted himself unworthy of it now that he was dying; and with this refusal be expired. Lord Willoughby succeeded him in the office of governor of Berwick, and lord Cobham, a wealthy but insignificant person of the party opposed to Essex, in that of lord chamberlain.
Henry third earl of Huntingdon of the family of Hastings died about the same time. By his mother, eldest daughter and coheiress of Henry Pole lord Montacute, he was the representative of the Clarence branch of the family of Plantagenet; but no pretensions of his had ever awakened anxiety in the house of Tudor. He was a person of mild disposition, greatly attached to the puritan party, which, bound together by a secret compact, now formed a church within the church; he is said to have impaired his fortune by his bounty to the more zealous preachers; and be largely contributed by his will to the endowment of Emanuel college, the puritanical character of which was now well known.
Richard Fletcher bishop of London, "a comely and courtly prelate," who departed this life in the same year, affords a subject for a few remarks. It was a practice of the more powerful courtiers of that day, when the lands of a vacant see had excited, as they seldom failed to do, their cupidity, to "find out some men that had great minds and small means or merits, that would be glad to leave a small deanery to make a poor bishopric, by new leasing lands that were almost out of lease119;" and on these terms, which more conscientious churchmen disdained, Fletcher had taken the bishopric of Oxford, and had in due time been rewarded for his compliance by translation first to Worcester and afterwards to London. His talents and deportment pleased the queen; and it is mentioned, as an indication of her special favor, that she once quarrelled with him for wearing too short a beard. But he afterwards gave her more serious displeasure by taking a wife, a gay and fair court lady of good quality; and he had scarcely pacified her majesty by the propitiatory offering of a great entertainment at his house in Chelsea, when he was carried off by a sudden death, ascribed by his contemporaries to his immoderate use of the new luxury of smoking tobacco. This prelate was the father of Fletcher the dramatic poet.
Bishop Vaughan succeeded him, of whom Harrington gives the following trait: "He was an enemy to all supposed miracles, insomuch as one arguing with him in the closet at Greenwich in defence of them, and alleging the queen's healing of the evil for an instance, asking him what he could say against it, he answered, that he was loth to answer arguments taken from the topic-place of the cloth of estate; but if they would urge him to answer, he said his opinion was, she did it by virtue of some precious stone in possession of the crown of England that had such a natural quality. But had queen Elizabeth been told that he ascribed more virtue to her jewels (though she loved them well) than to her person, she would never have made him bishop of Chester."
