The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol.I., Part D.

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Title: The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol.I., Part D. - From Elizabeth to James I.
Author: Hume, David, 1711-1776
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol.I., Part D. - From Elizabeth to James I." ***

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND

FROM THE INVASION OF JULIUS CÆSAR

TO THE END OF THE REIGN OF JAMES THE SECOND,

BY DAVID HUME, ESQ.

1688

London: James S. Virtue, City Road and Ivy Lane
New York: 26 John Street
1860

And

Philadelphia:
J. B. Lippincott & Co.
March 17, 1901

In Three Volumes:

VOLUME ONE: The History Of England From The Invasion Of Julius Cæsar To
The End Of The Reign Of James The Second............ By David Hume, Esq.

VOLUME TWO: Continued from the Reign of William and Mary to the Death of
George II........................................... by Tobias Smollett.

VOLUME THREE: From the Accession of George III. to the Twenty-Third Year
of the Reign of Queen Victoria............... by E. Farr and E.H. Nolan.

VOLUME ONE

Part D.

From Elizabeth to James I.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

[Illustration: 1-442-elizabeth.jpg ELIZABETH]

ELIZABETH.

CONTEMPORARY MONARCHS.

EMP. OP GERM. K. OF SCOTLAND. K. OF FRANCE. K. OF SPAIN.

Ferdinand..1564 Mary abdicates.1567 Henry II....1559 Philip II.1598
Maximilian.1576 James VI. Francis II..1560 Philip III.
Rodolph II. Charles IX..1574
Henry III.. 1589
Henry IV.
POPES.
Paul IV.... 1558
Pius IV.... 1565
Pius V..... 1572
Gregory XIII.1585
Sixtus V... 1590
Urban VII.. 1590
Gregory XIV. 1591
Innocent IX. 1591
Clement VII.

{1558.} In a nation so divided as the English, it could scarcely be
expected that the death of one sovereign, and the accession of another,
who was generally believed to have embraced opposite principles to those
which prevailed, could be the object of universal satisfaction: yet so
much were men displeased with the present conduct of affairs, and such
apprehensions were entertained of futurity, that the people, overlooking
their theological disputes, expressed a general and unfeigned joy that
the sceptre had passed into the hand of Elizabeth. That princess had
discovered great prudence in her conduct during the reign of her sister;
and as men were sensible of the imminent danger to which she was every
moment exposed, compassion towards her situation, and concern for her
safety, had rendered her, to an uncommon degree, the favorite of the
nation. A parliament had been assembled a few days before Mary's death;
and when Heathe, archbishop of York, then chancellor, notified to them
that event, scarcely an interval of regret appeared; and the two houses
immediately resounded with the joyful acclamations of "God save Queen
Elizabeth: long and happily may she reign." The people, less actuated
by faction, and less influenced by private views, expressed a joy
still more general and hearty on her proclamation; and the auspicious
commencement of this reign prognosticated that felicity and glory which,
during its whole course, so uniformly attended it.[*]

Elizabeth was at Hatfield when she heard of her sister's death; and
after a few days she went thence to London, through crowds of people,
who strove with each other in giving her the strongest testimony of
their affection. On her entrance into the Tower, she could not forbear
reflecting on the great difference between her present fortune and that
which a few years before had attended her, when she was conducted to
that place as a prisoner, and lay there exposed to all the bigoted
malignity of her enemies. She fell on her knees, and expressed her
thanks to Heaven for the deliverance which the Almighty had granted her
from her bloody persecutors; a deliverance, she said, no less miraculous
than that which Daniel had received from the den of lions. This act of
pious gratitude seems to have been the last circumstance in which
she remembered any past hardships and injuries. With a prudence and
magnanimity truly laudable, she buried all offences in oblivion, and
received with affability even those who had acted with the greatest
malevolence against her. Sir Henry Benningfield himself, to whose
custody she had been committed, and who had treated her with severity,
never felt, during the whole course of her reign, any effects of her
resentment.[**] Yet was not the gracious reception which she gave,
prostitute and undistinguishing. When the bishops came in a body to
make their obeisance to her, she expressed to all of them sentiments
of regard; except to Bonner, from whom she turned aside, as from a man
polluted with blood, who was a just object of horror to every heart
susceptible of humanity.[***]

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 373.

** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 374.

*** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 374. Heylin, p. 102.

After employing a few days in ordering her domestic affairs, Elizabeth
notified to foreign courts her sister's death, and her own accession.
She sent Lord Cobham to the Low Countries, where Philip then resided;
and she took care to express to that monarch her gratitude for the
protection which he had afforded her, and her desire of persevering in
that friendship which had so happily commenced between them. Philip,
who had long foreseen this event, and who still hoped, by means of
Elizabeth, to obtain that dominion over England, of which he had failed
in espousing Mary, immediately despatched orders to the duke of Feria,
his ambassador at London, to make proposals of marriage to the queen;
and he offered to procure from Rome a dispensation for that purpose. But
Elizabeth soon came to the resolution of declining the proposal. She
saw that the nation had entertained an extreme aversion to the Spanish
alliance during her sister's reign; and that one great cause of the
popularity which she herself enjoyed, was the prospect of being freed by
her means from the danger of foreign subjection. She was sensible that
her affinity with Philip was exactly similar to that of her father with
Catharine of Arragon; and that her marrying that monarch was, in effect,
declaring herself illegitimate, and incapable of succeeding to the
throne. And though the power of the Spanish monarchy might still be
sufficient, in opposition to all pretenders, to support her title, her
masculine spirit disdained such precarious dominion, which, as it would
depend solely on the power of another, must be exercised according
to his inclinations.[*] But while these views prevented her from
entertaining any thoughts of a marriage with Philip, she gave him an
obliging, though evasive answer; and he still retained such hopes of
success, that he sent a messenger to Rome, with orders to solicit the
dispensation.

* Camden in Kennet, p. 370. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 375.

The queen too, on her sister's death, had written to Sir Edward Carne,
the English ambassador at Rome, to notify her accession to the pope; but
the precipitate nature of Paul broke through all the cautious measures
concerted by this young princess. He told Carne, that England was a fief
of the holy see; and it was great temerity in Elizabeth to have assumed,
without his participation, the title and authority of queen: that being
illegitimate, she could not possibly inherit that kingdom; nor could
he annul the sentence, pronounced by Clement VII. and Paul III., with
regard to Henry's marriage: that were he to proceed with rigor, he
should punish this criminal invasion of his rights, by rejecting all her
applications but being willing to treat her with paternal indulgence,
he would still keep the door of grace open to her, and that if she would
renounce all pretensions to the crown, and submit entirely to his will,
she should experience the utmost lenity compatible with the dignity of
the apostolic see.[*] When this answer was reported to Elizabeth,
she was astonished at the character of that aged pontiff; and having
recalled her ambassador, she continued with more determined resolution
to pursue those measures which already she had secretly embraced.

The queen, not to alarm the partisans of the Catholic religion, had
retained eleven of her sister's counsellors; but in order to balance
their authority, she added eight more, who were known to be inclined
to the Protestant communion: the marquis of Northampton, the earl of
Bedford, Sir Thomas Parry, Sir Edward Rogers, Sir Ambrose Cave, Sir
Francis Knolles, Sir Nicholas Bacon, whom she created lord keeper, and
Sir William Cecil, secretary of state.[**]

* Father Paul, lib. v.

** Strype's Ann. vol. i. p. 5.

With these counsellors, particularly Cecil, she frequently deliberated
concerning the expediency of restoring the Protestant religion, and
the means of executing that great enterprise. Cecil told her, that the
greater part of the nation had, ever since her father's reign, inclined
to the reformation, and though her sister had constrained them to
profess the ancient faith, the cruelties exercised by her ministers
had still more alienated their affections from it: that happily the
interests of the sovereign here concurred with the inclinations of the
people; nor was her title to the crown compatible with the authority of
the Roman pontiff: that a sentence, so solemnly pronounced by two popes
against her mother's marriage, could not possibly be recalled without
inflicting a mortal wound on the credit of the see of Rome; and even if
she were allowed to retain the crown, it would only be on an uncertain
and dependent footing: that this circumstance alone counterbalanced all
dangers whatsoever; and these dangers themselves, if narrowly examined,
would be found very little formidable: that the curses and execrations
of the Romish church, when not seconded by military force, were, in the
present age, more an object of ridicule than of terror, and had now as
little influence in this world as in the next: that though the bigotry
or ambition of Henry or Philip might incline them to execute a sentence
of excommunication against her, their interests were so incompatible,
that they never could concur in any plan of operations; and the enmity
of the one would always insure to her the friendship of the other:
that if they encouraged the discontents of her Catholic subjects,
their dominions also abounded with Protestants, and it would be easy to
retaliate upon them: that even such of the English as seemed at present
zealously attached to the Catholic faith, would, most of them, embrace
the religion of their new sovereign; and the nation had of late been
so much accustomed to these revolutions, that men had lost all idea of
truth and falsehood in such subjects: that the authority of Henry VIII.,
so highly raised by many concurring circumstances, first inured the
people to this submissive deference; and it was the less difficult for
succeeding princes to continue the nation in a track to which it had so
long been accustomed; and that it would be easy for her, by bestowing on
Protestants all preferment in civil offices and the militia, the church
and the universities, both to insure her own authority, and to render
her religion entirely predominant.[*]

The education of Elizabeth, as well as her interest, led her to favor
the reformation; and she remained not long in suspense with regard to
the party which she should embrace. But though determined in her own
mind, she resolved to proceed by gradual and secure steps, and not to
imitate the example of Mary in encouraging the bigots of her party to
make immediately a violent invasion on the established religion.[**]
She thought it requisite, however, to discover such symptoms of her
intentions as might give encouragement to the Protestants so much
depressed by the late violent persecutions. She immediately recalled
all the exiles, and gave liberty to the prisoners who were confined on
account of religion. We are told of a pleasantry of one Rainsford on
this occasion, who said to the queen, that he had a petition to present
her in behalf of other prisoners called Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John:
she readily replied, that it behoved her first to consult the prisoners
themselves, and to learn of them whether they desired that liberty which
he demanded for them.[***]

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 377. Camden, p. 370.

** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 378. Camden, p. 371.

*** Heylin, p. 103.

Elizabeth also proceeded to exert in favor of the reformers some acts
of power which were authorized by the extent of royal prerogative
during that age. Finding that the Protestant teachers, irritated by
persecution, broke out in a furious attack on the ancient superstition,
and that the Romanists replied with no less zeal and acrimony, she
published a proclamation, by which she inhibited all preaching without a
special license;[*] and though she dispensed with these orders in favor
of some preachers of her own sect, she took care that they should be the
most calm and moderate of the party. She also suspended the laws so far
as to order a great part of the service; the litany, the Lord's prayer,
the creed, and the gospels; to be read in English. And having first
published injunctions, that all the churches should conform themselves
to the practice of her own chapel, she forbade the host to be any more
elevated in her presence; an innovation which, however frivolous it may
appear, implied the most material consequences.[**]

These declarations of her intention, concurring with preceding
suspicions, made the bishops foresee with certainty a revolution in
religion. They therefore refused to officiate at her coronation; and
it was with some difficulty that the bishop of Carlisle was at last
prevailed on to perform the ceremony. When she was conducted through
London, amidst the joyful acclamations of her subjects, a boy, who
personated truth, was let down from one of the triumphal arches, and
presented to her a copy of the Bible. She received the book with the
most gracious deportment; placed it next her bosom; and declared that,
amidst all the costly testimonies which the city had that day given her
of their attachment, this present was by far the most precious and
most acceptable.[*] Such were the innocent artifices by which Elizabeth
insinuated herself into the affections of her subjects. Open in her
address, gracious and affable in all public appearances, she rejoiced
in the concourse of her subjects, entered into all their pleasures and
amusements; and without departing from her dignity, which she knew
well how to preserve, she acquired a popularity beyond what any of her
predecessors or successors ever could attain. Her own sex exulted to see
a woman hold the reins of empire with such prudence and fortitude: and
while a young princess of twenty-five years, (for that was her age at
her accession,) who possessed all the graces and insinuation, though not
all the beauty of her sex, courted the affections of individuals by
her civilities, of the public by her services; her authority though
corroborated by the strictest bands of law and religion, appeared to be
derived entirely from the choice and inclination of the people.

* Heylin, p. 104. Strype, vol. i. p. 41.

** Camden, p. 371. Heylin, p. 104. Strype, vol. i. p 54.
Stowe, p. 635.

*** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 380. Strype, vol. i. p. 29.

A sovereign of this disposition was not likely to offend her subjects
by any useless or violent exertions of power; and Elizabeth, though she
threw out such hints as encouraged the Protestants delayed the entire
change of religion till the meeting of the parliament, which was
summoned to assemble. The elections had gone entirely against the
Catholics, who seem not indeed to have made any great struggle for the
superiority;[*] and the houses met in a disposition of gratifying the
queen in every particular which she could desire of them. They began
the session with a unanimous declaration, "that Queen Elizabeth was, and
ought to be, as well by the word of God, as the common and statute
laws of the realm, the lawful, undoubted, and true heir to the crown,
lawfully descended from the blood royal, according to the order of
succession settled in the thirty-fifth of Henry VIII."[**]

* Notwithstanding the bias of the nation towards the
Protestant sect, it appears that some violence, at least
according to our present ideas, was used in these elections:
five candidates were nominated by the court to each borough,
and three to each county; and by the sheriff's authority the
members were chosen from among these candidates. See state
papers collected by Edward, earl of Clarendon, p. 92.

* I Eliz. cap. 3.

This act of recognition was probably dictated by the queen herself and
her ministers; and she showed her magnanimity, as well as moderation, in
the terms which she employed on that occasion. She followed not Mary's
practice in declaring the validity of her mother's marriage, or in
expressly repealing the act formerly made against her own legitimacy:
she knew that this attempt must be attended with reflections on her
father's memory, and on the birth of her deceased sister; and as all the
world was sensible, that Henry's divorce from Anne Boleyn was merely the
effect of his usual violence and caprice, she scorned to found her title
on any act of an assembly which had too much prostituted its authority
by its former variable, servile, and iniquitous decisions. Satisfied,
therefore, in the general opinion entertained with regard to this fact,
which appeared the more undoubted, the less anxiety she discovered in
fortifying it by votes and inquiries; she took possession of the
throne both as her birthright, and as insured to her by former acts
of parliament; and she never appeared anxious to distinguish these
titles.[*]

The first bill brought into parliament with a view of trying their
disposition on the head of religion, was that for suppressing
the monasteries lately erected, and for restoring the tenths and
first-fruits to the queen. This point being gained without much
difficulty, a bill was next introduced, annexing the supremacy to the
crown; and though the queen was there denominated "governess," not
"head," of the church, it conveyed the same extensive power which under
the latter title had been exercised by her father and brother. All the
bishops who were present in the upper house strenuously opposed this
law; and as they possessed more learning than the temporal peers, they
triumphed in the debate; but the majority of voices in that house, as
well as among the commons, was against them. By this act, the crown,
without the concurrence either of the parliament, or even of the
convocation, was vested with the whole spiritual power; might repress
all heresies, might establish or repeal all canons, might alter every
point of discipline, and might ordain or abolish any religious rite or
ceremony,[**]

* Camden, p. 372. Heylin, p. 107, 108

** I Eliz. cap. 1. This last power was anew recognized in
the bill of uniformity I Eliz. cap 2.

In determining heresy, the sovereign was only limited (if that could be
called a limitation) to such doctrines as had been adjudged heresy by
the authority of the Scripture, by the first four general councils, or
by any general council which followed the Scripture as their rule, or
to such other doctrines as should hereafter be denominated heresy by
the parliament and convocation. In order to exercise this authority,
the queen, by a clause of the act, was empowered to name commissioners,
either laymen or clergymen, as she should think proper; and on this
clause was afterwards founded the court of ecclesiastical commission;
which assumed large discretionary, not to say arbitrary powers, totally
incompatible with any exact boundaries in the constitution. Their
proceedings, indeed, were only consistent with absolute monarchy; but
were entirely suitable to the genius of the act on which they were
established; an act that at once gave the crown alone all the power
which had formerly been claimed by the popes, but which even these
usurping prelates had never been able fully to exercise without some
concurrence of the national clergy.

Whoever refused to take an oath acknowledging the queen's supremacy, was
incapacitated from holding any office; whoever denied the supremacy, or
attempted to deprive the queen of that prerogative, forfeited, for the
first offence, all his goods and chattels; for the second, was subjected
to the penalty of a præmunire; but the third offence was declared
treason. These punishments, however severe, were less rigorous than
those which were formerly, during the reigns of her father and brother,
inflicted in like cases.

A law was passed confirming all the statutes enacted in King Edward's
time with regard to religion:[*] the nomination of bishops was given
to the crown, without any election of the chapters: the queen was
empowered, on the vacancy of any see, to seize all the temporalities,
and to bestow on the bishop elect an equivalent in the impropriations
belonging to the crown. This pretended equivalent was commonly much
inferior in value; and thus the queen, amidst all her concern for
religion, followed the example of the preceding reformers in committing
depredations on the ecclesiastical revenues.

The bishops and all incumbents were prohibited from alienating their
revenues, and from letting leases longer than twenty-one years or three
lives. This law seemed to be meant for securing the property of the
church; but as an exception was left in favor of the crown, great abuses
still prevailed. It was usual for the courtiers, during this reign,
to make an agreement with a bishop or incumbent; and to procure a
fictitious alienation to the queen, who afterwards transferred the lands
to the person agreed on.[**] This method of pillaging the church was not
remedied till the beginning of James I. The present depression of the
clergy exposed them to all injuries; and the laity never stopped till
they had reduced the church to such poverty, that her plunder was no
longer a compensation for the odium incurred by it.

A solemn and public disputation was held during this session in presence
of Lord Keeper Bacon, between the divines of the Protestant and those of
the Catholic communion. The champions appointed to defend the religion
of the sovereign were, as in all former instances, entirely triumphant;
and the Popish disputants, being pronounced refractory and obstinate,
were even punished by imprisonment.[***]

* I Eliz. cap. 2.

** Strype, vol. i. p. 79.

*** Strype, vol. i. p. 95.

Emboldened by this victory, the Protestants ventured on the last
and most important step, and brought into parliament a bill[*] for
abolishing the mass and reestablishing the liturgy of King Edward.
Penalties were enacted, as well against those who departed from this
mode of worship, as against those who absented themselves from the
church and the sacraments. And thus in one session, without any
violence, tumult, or clamor, was the whole system of religion altered,
on the very commencement of a reign, and by the will of a young woman,
whose title to the crown was by many thought liable to objections; an
event which, though it may appear surprising to men in the present
age, was every where expected on the first intelligence of Elizabeth's
accession.

The commons also made a sacrifice to the queen, more difficult to
obtain than that of any articles of faith: they voted a subsidy of four
shillings in the pound on land, and two shillings and eightpence on
movables, together with two fifteenths.[**] [1] The house in no instance
departed from the most respectful deference and complaisance towards the
queen. Even the importune address which they made her on the conclusion
of the session, to fix her choice of a husband, could not, they
supposed, be very disagreeable to one of her sex and age. The address
was couched in the most respectful expressions, yet met with a refusal
from the queen.

* 1 Eliz. cap. 2.

** See note A, at the end of the volume.

{1559.} She told the speaker, that, as the application from the house
was conceived in general terms, only recommending marriage, without
pretending to direct her choice of a husband, she could not take offence
at the address, or regard it otherwise than as a new instance of their
affectionate attachment to her: that any further interposition on their
part, would have ill become either them to make as subjects, or her
to bear as an independent princess: that even while she was a private
person, and exposed to much danger, she had always declined that
engagement, which she regarded as an encumbrance; much more, at present,
would she persevere in this sentiment, when the charge of a great
kingdom was committed to her, and her life ought to be entirely
devoted to promoting the interests of religion and the happiness of her
subjects: that as England was her husband, wedded to her by this pledge,
(and here she showed her finger with the same gold ring upon it
with which she had solemnly betrothed herself to the kingdom at her
inauguration,) so all Englishmen were her children, and while she was
employed in rearing or governing such a family, she could not deem
herself barren, or her life useless and unprofitable: that if she
ever entertained thoughts of changing her condition, the care of her
subjects' welfare would still be uppermost in her thoughts; but should
she live and die a virgin, she doubted not but divine Providence,
seconded by their counsels and her own measures, would be able to
prevent all dispute with regard to the succession, and secure them a
sovereign who, perhaps better than her own issue, would imitate her
example in loving and cherishing her people; and that for her part, she
desired that no higher character, or fairer remembrance of her should be
transmitted to posterity, than to have this inscription engraved on
her tombstone, when she should pay the last debt to nature: "Here lies
Elizabeth, who lived and died a maiden queen."[*]

After the prorogation of the parliament,[**] the laws enacted with
regard to religion were put in execution, and met with little opposition
from any quarter. The liturgy was again introduced in the vulgar tongue,
and the oath of supremacy was tendered to the clergy. The number of
bishops had been reduced to fourteen by a sickly season which preceded:
and all these, except the bishop of Landaff, having refused compliance,
were degraded from their sees: but of the inferior clergy throughout all
England, where there are near ten thousand parishes, only eighty
rectors and vicars, fifty prebendaries fifteen heads of colleges,
twelve archdeacons, and as many deans, sacrificed their livings to their
religious principles.[***]

* Camden, p. 375. Sir Simon d'Ewes.

** It is thought remarkable by Camden, that though this
session was the first of the reign, no person was attainted;
but on the contrary, some restored in blood by the
parliament; a good symptom of the lenity, at least of the
prudence, of the queen's government; and that it should
appear remarkable, is a proof of the rigor of preceding
reigns.

*** Camden, p. 376. Heylin, p. 115. Strype, vol. i. p. 73,
with some small variations.

Those in high ecclesiastic stations, being exposed to the eyes of
the public, seem chiefly to have placed a point of honor in their
perseverance; but on the whole, the Protestants, in the former
change introduced by Mary, appear to have been much more rigid and
conscientious. Though the Catholic religion, adapting itself to the
senses, and enjoining observances which enter into the common train of
life, does at present lay faster hold on the mind than the reformed,
which, being chiefly spiritual, resembles more a system of metaphysics,
yet was the proportion of zeal, as well as of knowledge, during the
first ages after the reformation, much greater on the side of the
Protestants. The Catholics continued, ignorantly and supinely, in their
ancient belief, or rather their ancient practices: but the reformers,
obliged to dispute on every occasion, and inflamed to a degree of
enthusiasm by novelty and persecution had strongly attached themselves
to their tenets; and were ready to sacrifice their fortunes, and even
their lives, in support of their speculative and abstract principles.

The forms and ceremonies still preserved in the English liturgy, as
they bore some resemblance to the ancient service, tended further to
reconcile the Catholics to the established religion; and as the queen
permitted no other mode of worship, and at the same time struck out
every thing that could be offensive to them in the new liturgy,[*]
even those who were addicted to the Romish communion made no scruple
of attending the established church. Had Elizabeth gratified her own
inclinations, the exterior appearance, which is the chief circumstance
with the people, would have been still more similar between the new and
the ancient form of worship. Her love of state and magnificence, which
she affected in every thing, inspired her with an inclination towards
the pomp of the Catholic religion; and it was merely in compliance with
the prejudices of her party, that she gave up either images, or the
addresses to saints, or prayers for the dead.[**] Some foreign princes
interposed to procure the Romanists the privilege of separate assemblies
in particular cities, but the queen would not comply with their request;
and she represented the manifest danger of disturbing the national peace
by a toleration of different religions.[***]

* Heylin, p. 111.

** Burnet, vol. ii. p. 376, 397. Camden, p. 371.

*** Camden, p. 378. Strype, vol. i. p. 150, 370.

While the queen and parliament were employed in settling the public
religion, the negotiations for a peace were still conducted, first at
Cercamp, then at Chateau-Cambresis, between the ministers of France,
Spain, and England; and Elizabeth, though equally prudent, was not
equally successful in this transaction. Philip employed his utmost
efforts to procure the restitution of Calais, both as bound in honor to
indemnify England which merely on his account had been drawn into the
war; and as engaged in interest to remove France to a distance from
his frontiers in the Low Countries. So long as he entertained hopes of
espousing the queen, he delayed concluding a peace with Henry; and even
after the change of religion in England deprived him of all such
views, his ministers hinted to her a proposal which may be regarded
as reasonable and honorable. Though all his own terms with France were
settled, he seemed willing to continue the war till she should obtain
satisfaction; provided she would stipulate to adhere to the Spanish
alliance, and continue hostilities against Henry during the course
of six years:[*]* but Elizabeth, after consulting with her ministers,
wisely rejected this proposal. She was sensible of the low state of her
finances; the great debts contracted by her father, brother, and sister;
the disorders introduced into every part of the administration; the
divisions by which her people were agitated; and she was convinced that
nothing but tranquillity during some years could bring the kingdom again
into a flourishing condition, or enable her to act with dignity and
vigor in her transactions with foreign nations. Well acquainted with
the value which Henry put upon Calais, and the impossibility, during the
present emergence, of recovering it by treaty, she was willing rather to
suffer that loss, than submit to such a dependence on Spain, as she
must expect to fall into, if she continued pertinaciously in her present
demand. She ordered, therefore, her ambassadors, Lord Effingham, the
bishop of Ely, and Dr. Wotton, to conclude the negotiation, and to
settle a peace with Henry on any reasonable terms. Henry offered to
stipulate a marriage between the eldest daughter of the dauphin, and the
eldest son of Elizabeth; and to engage for the restitution of Calais as
the dowry of that princess;[**] but as the queen was sensible that this
treaty would appear to the world a palpable evasion, she insisted upon
more equitable, at least more plausible conditions.

* Forbes's Full View, vol. i. p. 59.

** Forbes's Full View, vol. i. p. 54.

It was at last agreed, that Henry should restore Calais at
the expiration of eight years; that in case of failure, he
should pay five hundred thousand crowns, and the queen's
title to Calais still remain; that he should find the
security of seven or eight foreign merchants, not natives of
France, for the payment of this sum; that he should deliver
five hostages till that security were provided; that if
Elizabeth broke the peace with France or Scotland during the
interval, she should forfeit all title to Calais; but if
Henry made war on Elizabeth, he should be obliged
immediately to restore that fortress.[*] All men of
penetration easily saw that these stipulations were but a
colorable pretence for abandoning Calais; but they excused
the queen on account of the necessity of her affairs; and
they even extolled her prudence in submitting without
further struggle to that necessity. A peace with Scotland
was a necessary consequence of that with France.

* Forbes, vol. i. p. 68. Rymer, tom. xv. p 505.

Philip and Henry terminated hostilities by a mutual restitution of
all places taken during the course of the war; and Philip espoused the
princess Elizabeth, eldest daughter of France, formerly betrothed to his
son Don Carlos. The duke of Savoy married Margaret, Henry's sister,
and obtained a restitution of all his dominions of Savoy and Piedmont,
except a few towns retained by France. And thus general tranquillity
seemed to be restored to Europe.

But though peace was concluded between France and England, there soon
appeared a ground of quarrel of the most serious nature, and which
was afterwards attended with the most important consequences. The two
marriages of Henry VIII., that with Catharine of Arragon, and that with
Anne Boleyn, were incompatible with each other; and it seemed impossible
that both of them could be regarded as valid and legal: but still the
birth of Elizabeth lay under some disadvantages to which that of her
sister Mary was not exposed. Henry's first marriage had obtained the
sanction of all the powers, both civil and ecclesiastical, which were
then acknowledged in England; and it was natural for Protestants as
well as Romanists to allow, on account of the sincere intention of the
parties, that their issue ought to be regarded as legitimate, But his
divorce and second marriage had been concluded in direct opposition to
the see of Rome; and though they had been ratified by the authority
both of the English parliament and convocation, those who were strongly
attached to the Catholic communion, and who reasoned with great
strictness were led to regard them as entirely invalid, and to deny
altogether the queen's right of succession. The next heir of blood was
the queen of Scots, now married to the dauphin; and the great power of
that princess, joined to her plausible title rendered her a formidable
rival to Elizabeth. The king of France had secretly been soliciting at
Rome a bull of excommunication against the queen; and she had here been
beholden to the good offices of Philip, who, from interest more than
either friendship or generosity, had negotiated in her favor, and had
successfully opposed the pretensions of Henry. But the court of France
was not discouraged with this repulse; the duke of Guise and his
brothers, thinking that it would much augment their credit if their
niece should bring an accession of England, as she had already done of
Scotland, to the crown of France, engaged the king not to neglect the
claim; and, by their persuasion, he ordered his son and daughter-in-law
to assume openly the arms as well as title of England, and to quarter
these arms on all their equipages, furniture, and liveries. When the
English ambassador complained of this injury he could obtain nothing
but an evasive answer; that as the queen of Scots was descended from
the blood royal of England, she was entitled, by the example of many
princes, to assume the arms of that kingdom. But besides that this
practice had never prevailed without permission being first obtained,
and without making a visible difference between the arms, Elizabeth
plainly saw that this pretension had not been advanced during the reign
of her sister Mary; and that, therefore, the king of France intended, on
the first opportunity, to dispute her legitimacy, and her title to
the crown. Alarmed at the danger, she thenceforth conceived a violent
jealousy against the queen of Scots; and was determined, as far as
possible, to incapacitate Henry from the execution of his project. The
sudden death of that monarch, who was killed in a tournament at Paris,
while celebrating the espousals of his sister with the duke of Savoy,
altered not her views. Being informed that his successor, Francis
II., still continued to assume, without reserve, the title of King of
England, she began to consider him and his queen as her mortal enemies;
and the present situation of affairs in Scotland afforded her a
favorable opportunity, both of revenging the injury, and providing for
her own safety.

The murder of the cardinal-primate at St. Andrew's had deprived the
Scottish Catholics of a head whose severity, courage, and capacity had
rendered him extremely formidable to the innovators in religion; and
the execution of the laws against heresy began thenceforth to be more
remiss. The queen regent governed the kingdom by prudent and moderate
counsels; and as she was not disposed to sacrifice the civil interests
of the state to the bigotry or interests of the clergy, she deemed
it more expedient to temporize, and to connive at the progress of a
doctrine which she had not power entirely to repress. When informed of
the death of Edward, and the accession of Mary to the crown of England,
she entertained hopes that the Scottish reformers, deprived of the
countenance which they received from that powerful kingdom, would lose
their ardor with their prospect of success, and would gradually return
to the faith of their ancestors. But the progress and revolutions of
religion are little governed by the usual maxims of civil policy; and
the event much disappointed the expectations of the regent. Many of the
English preachers, terrified with the severity of Mary's government,
took shelter in Scotland, where they found more protection, and a milder
administration; and while they propagated their theological tenets, they
filled the whole kingdom with a just horror against the cruelties of the
bigoted Catholics, and showed their disciples the fate which they
must expect, if ever their adversaries should attain an uncontrolled
authority over them.

A hierarchy, moderate in its acquisitions of power and riches, may
safely grant a toleration to sectaries; and the more it softens the zeal
of innovators by lenity and liberty, the more securely will it possess
those advantages which the legal establishments bestow upon it. But
where superstition has raised a church to such an exorbitant height as
that of Rome, persecution is less the result of bigotry in the priests,
than of a necessary policy; and the rigor of law is the only method of
repelling the attacks of men who, besides religious zeal, have so many
other motives, derived both from public and private interest, to engage
them on the side of innovation. But though such overgrown hierarchies
may long support themselves by these violent expedients, the time comes
when severities tend only to enrage the new sectaries, and make them
break through all bounds of reason and moderation. This crisis was
now visibly approaching in Scotland; and whoever considers merely the
transactions resulting from it, will be inclined to throw the blame
equally on both parties; whoever enlarges his view, and reflects on the
situations, will remark the necessary progress of human affairs, and the
operation of those principles which are inherent in human nature.

Some heads of the reformers in Scotland, such as the earl of Argyle, his
son Lord Lorne, the earls of Morton and Glencarne, Erskine of Dun, and
others, observing the danger to which they were exposed, and desirous
to propagate their principles, entered privately into a bond or
association; and called themselves the "congregation" of the Lord, in
contradistinction to the established church, which they denominated
the congregation of Satan. The tenor of the bond was as follows: "We,
perceiving how Satan, in his members, the Antichrist of our time, do
cruelly rage, seeking to overthrow and to destroy the gospel of Christ
and his congregation, ought, according to our bounden duty, to strive in
our master's cause, even unto the death, being certain of the victory
in him. We do therefore promise, before the majesty of God and
his congregation, that we, by his grace, shall with all diligence
continually apply our whole power, substance, and our very lives, to
maintain, set forward, and establish the most blessed word of God
and his congregation; and shall labor, by all possible means, to have
faithful ministers, truly and purely to minister Christ's gospel and
sacraments to his people: we shall maintain them, nourish them, and
defend them, the whole congregation of Christ, and every member thereof,
by our whole power, and at the hazard of our lives, against Satan, and
all wicked power who may intend tyranny and trouble against the
said congregation; unto which holy word and congregation we do join
ourselves; and we forsake and renounce the congregation of Satan, with
all the superstitious abomination and idolatry thereof; and moreover
shall declare ourselves manifestly enemies thereto, by this faithful
promise before God, testified to this congregation by our subscriptions.
At Edinburgh, the third of December, 1557."[*]

* Keith, p. 66. Knox, p. 101.

Had the subscribers of this zealous league been content only to demand
a toleration of the new opinions, however incompatible their pretensions
might have been with the policy of the church of Rome, they would
have had the praise of opposing tyrannical laws, enacted to support an
establishment prejudicial to civil society: but it is plain that
they carried their views much further; and their practice immediately
discovered the spirit by which they were actuated. Supported by the
authority which they thought belonged to them as the congregation of the
Lord, they ordained that prayers in the vulgar tongue[*] should be used
in all the parish churches of the kingdom; and that preaching and the
interpretation of the Scriptures should be practised in private houses,
til God should move the prince to grant public preaching by faithful
and true ministers.[**] Such bonds of association are always the
fore-runners of rebellion; and this violent invasion of the established
religion was the actual commencement of it.

Before this league was publicly known or avowed, the clergy, alarmed
with the progress of the reformation, attempted to recover their lost
authority by a violent exercise of power, which tended still further
to augment the zeal and number of their enemies. Hamilton, the primate,
seized Walter Mill, a priest of an irreproachable life, who had embraced
the new doctrines; and having tried him at St. Andrew's, condemned him
to the flames for heresy. Such general aversion was entertained against
this barbarity, that it was some time before the bishops could prevail
on any one to act the part of a civil judge, and pronounce sentence upon
Mill; and even after the time of his execution was fixed, all the shops
of St. Andrew's being shut, no one would sell a rope to tie him to the
stake and the primate himself was obliged to furnish this implement.
The man bore the torture with that courage which, though usual on these
occasions, always appears supernatural and astonishing to the multitude.
The people, to express their abhorrence against the cruelty of the
priests, raised a monument of stones on the place of his execution; and
as fast as the stones were removed by order of the clergy, they were
again supplied from the voluntary zeal of the populace.[***] It is in
vain for men to oppose the severest punishment to the united motives
of religion and public applause; and this was the last barbarity of the
kind which the Catholics had the power to exercise in Scotland.

* The reformers used at that time King Edward's liturgy in
Scotland. Forbes, p. 155.

* Keith, p. 66. Knox, p. 101.

* Knox, p. 122.

Some time after, the people discovered their sentiments in such a manner
as was sufficient to prognosticate to the priests the fate which was
awaiting them. It was usual on the festival of St. Giles, the tutelar
saint of Edinburgh, to carry in procession the image of that saint; but
the Protestants, in order to prevent the ceremony, found means, on the
eve of the festival, to purloin the statue from the church; and they
pleased themselves with imagining the surprise and disappointment of
his votaries. The clergy, however, framed hastily a new image, which in
derision was called by the people young St. Giles; and they carried it
through the streets, attended by all the ecclesiastics in the town and
neighborhood. The multitude abstained from violence so long as the queen
regent continued a spectator; but the moment she retired, they invaded
the idol, threw it in the mire, and broke it in pieces. The flight and
terror of the priests and friars, who, it was remarked, deserted, in
his greatest distress, the object of their worship, was the source of
universal mockery and laughter.

Encouraged by all these appearances, the congregation proceeded with
alacrity in openly soliciting subscriptions to their league; and
the death of Mary of England, with the accession of Elizabeth, which
happened about this time, contributed to increase their hopes of final
success in their undertaking. They ventured to present a petition to
the regent, craving a reformation of the church, and of the "wicked,
scandalous, and detestable" lives of the prelates and ecclesiastics.[*]
They framed a petition which they intended to present to parliament,
and in which, after premising that they could not communicate with the
damnable idolatry and intolerable abuses of the Papistical church, they
desired that the laws against heretics should be executed by the civil
magistrate alone, and that the Scripture should be the sole rule
in judging of heresy.[**] They even petitioned the convocation, and
insisted that prayers should be said in the vulgar tongue, and that
bishops should be chosen with the consent of the gentry of the diocese,
and priests with the consent of the parishioners.[***] The regent
prudently temporized between these parties; and as she aimed at
procuring a matrimonial crown for her son-in-law the dauphin, she was,
on that as well as other accounts, unwilling to come to extremities with
either of them.

* Knox, p. 121.

** Knox, p. 123.

*** Keith, p. 78, 81, 82.

But after this concession was obtained, she received orders from France,
probably dictated by the violent spirit of her brothers, to proceed with
rigor against the reformers, and to restore the royal authority by some
signal act of power.[*] She made the more eminent of the Protestant
teachers be cited to appear before the council at Stirling; but when
their followers were marching thither in great multitudes, in order
to protect and countenance them, she entertained apprehensions of an
insurrection, and, it is said, dissipated the people by a promise[**]
[2] that nothing should be done to the prejudice of the ministers.
Sentence, however, was passed, by which all the ministers were
pronounced rebels, on account of their not appearing; a measure which
enraged the people, and made them resolve to oppose the regent's
authority by force of arms, and to proceed to extremities against the
clergy of the established religion.

In this critical time, John Knox arrived from Geneva, where he had
passed some years in banishment, and where he had imbibed, from his
commerce with Calvin, the highest fanaticism of his sect, augmented by
the native ferocity of his own character. He had been invited back to
Scotland by the leaders of the reformation; and mounting the pulpit at
Perth, during the present ferment of men's minds, he declaimed with
his usual vehemence against the idolatry and other abominations of the
church of Rome, and incited his audience to exert their utmost zeal for
its subversion. A priest was so imprudent, after this sermon, as to open
his repository of images and relics, and prepare himself to say mass.
The audience, exalted to a disposition for any furious enterprise, were
as much enraged as if the spectacle had not been quite familiar to them:
they attacked the priest with fury, broke the images in pieces, tore the
pictures, overthrew the altars, scattered about the sacred vases; and
left no implement of idolatrous worship, as they termed it, entire or
undefaced. They thence proceeded, with additional numbers and augmented
rage, to the monasteries of the Gray and Black friars, which they
pillaged in an instant: the Carthusians underwent the same fate: and the
populace, not content with robbing and expelling the monks, vented
their fury on the buildings which had been the receptacles of such
abomination; and in a little time nothing but the walls of these
edifices were left standing. The inhabitants of Coupar, in Fife, soon
after imitated the example.[***]

* Melvil's Memoirs, p. 24. Jebb. vol. ii. p. 446.

** See note B, at the end of the volume.

*** Spotswood, p. 121. Knox, p. 127.

The queen regent, provoked at these violences, assembled an army, and
prepared to chastise the rebels. She had about two thousand French under
her command, with a few Scottish troops; and being assisted by such of
the nobility as were well affected to her, she pitched her camp within
ten miles of Perth. Even the earl of Argyle, and Lord James Stuart,
prior of St. Andrew's, the queen's natural brother, though deeply
engaged with the reformers, attended the regent in this enterprise,
either because they blamed the fury of the populace, or hoped by their
own influence and authority to mediate some agreement between the
parties. The congregation, on the other hand, made preparations for
defence; and being joined by the earl of Glencarne from the west, and
being countenanced by many of the nobility and gentry, they appeared
formidable from their numbers, as well as from the zeal by which they
were animated. They sent an address to the regent, where they plainly
insinuated, that if they were pursued to extremities by the "cruel
beasts" the churchmen, they would have recourse to foreign powers for
assistance; and they subscribed themselves her faithful subjects in all
things not repugnant to God, assuming, at the same time, the name of the
faithful congregation of Christ Jesus.[*] They applied to the nobility
attending her, and maintained, that their own past violences were
justified by the word of God, which commands the godly to destroy
idolatry, and all the monuments of it; and though all civil authority
was sacred, yet was there a great difference between the authority and
the persons who exercised it;[**] and that it ought to be considered,
whether or not those abominations, called by the pestilent Papists
religion, and which they defend by fire and sword, be the true religion
of Christ Jesus. They remonstrated with such of the queen's army as had
formerly embraced their party, and told them, "that as they were already
reputed traitors by God, they should likewise be excommunicated from
their society, and from the participation of the sacraments of the
church which God by his mighty power had erected among them; whose
ministers have the same authority which Christ granted to his apostles
in these words, 'Whose sins ye shall forgive shall be forgiven, and
whose sins ye shall retain shall be retained.'"[***]

* Knox, p. 129.

** Knox, p. 131.

*** Knox, p. 133.

We may here see, that these new saints were no less lofty in their
pretensions than the ancient hierarchy: no wonder they were enraged
against the latter as their rivals in dominion. They joined to all these
declarations an address to the established church; and they affixed this
title to it: "To the generation of Antichrist, the pestilent prelates
and their 'shavelings'[*] in Scotland, the congregation of Christ Jesus
within the same sayeth." The tenor of the manifesto was suitable to the
title. They told the ecclesiastics, "As ye by tyranny intend not only to
destroy our bodies, but also by the same to hold our souls in bondage
of the devil, subject to idolatry, so shall we, with all the force
and power which God shall grant unto us, execute just vengeance and
punishment upon you: yea, we shall begin that same war which God
commanded Israel to execute against the Canaanites; that is, contract of
peace shall never be made till you desist from your open idolatry,
and cruel persecution of God's children. And this, in the name of the
eternal God, and of his Son Christ Jesus, whose verity we profess, and
gospel we have preached, and holy sacraments rightly administered,
we signify unto you to be our intent, so far as God will assist us
to withstand your idolatry. Take this for warning, and be not
deceived."[**] With these outrageous symptoms commenced in Scotland that
cant, hypocrisy, and fanaticism which long infested that kingdom, and
which, though now mollified by the lenity of the civil power, is still
ready to break out on all occasions.

The queen regent, finding such obstinate zeal in the rebels, was content
to embrace the counsels of Argyle and the prior of St. Andrew's, and
to form an accommodation with them. She was received into Perth, which
submitted, on her promising an indemnity for past offences, and engaging
not to leave any French garrison in the place. Complaints, very
ill founded, immediately arose concerning the infraction of this
capitulation. Some of the inhabitants, it was pretended, were molested
on account of the late violences; and some companies of Scotch soldiers,
supposed to be in French pay, were quartered in the town; which step,
though taken on very plausible grounds, was loudly exclaimed against by
the congregation.[***]

* A contemptuous term for a priest.

* Keith, p. 85, 86, 87. Knox, p. 134.

* Knox, p. 139.

It is asserted that the regent, to justify these measures, declared,
that princes ought not to have their promises too strictly urged upon
them; nor was any faith to be kept with heretics: and that for her part,
could she find as good a color, she would willingly bereave all these
men of their lives and fortunes.[*] But it is nowise likely that such
expressions ever dropped from this prudent and virtuous princess. On the
contrary, it appears that all these violences were disagreeable to her;
that she was in this particular overruled by the authority of the
French counsellors placed about her; and that she often thought, if the
management of those affairs had been intrusted wholly to herself, she
could easily, without force, have accommodated all differences.[**] [3]

The congregation, inflamed with their own zeal, and enraged by these
disappointments, remained not long in tranquillity. Even before they
left Perth, and while as yet they had no color to complain of any
violation of treaty, they had signed a new covenant, in which, besides
their engagements to mutual defence, they vowed, in the name of God, to
employ their whole power in destroying every thing that dishonored his
holy name; and this covenant was subscribed, among others, by Argyle and
the prior of St. Andrew's.[***]

* Knox, p. 139. Spotswood, p. 123.

** See note C, at the end of the volume.

*** Keith, p 89. Knox, p. 138.

These two leaders now desired no better pretence for deserting the
regent and openly joining their associates, than the complaints, however
doubtful, or rather false, of her breach of promise. The congregation
also, encouraged by this accession of force, gave themselves up entirely
to the furious zeal of Knox, and renewed at Crail, Anstruther, and other
places in Fife, like depredations on the churches and monasteries with
those formerly committed at Perth and Coupar. The regent, who marched
against them with her army, finding their power so much increased,
was glad to conclude a truce for a few days, and to pass over with her
forces to the Lothians. The reformers besieged and took Perth; proceeded
thence to Stirling, where they exercised their usual fury; and finding
nothing able to resist them, they bent their march to Edinburgh, the
inhabitants of which, as they had already anticipated the zeal of the
congregation against the churches and monasteries, gladly opened their
gates to them. The regent, with the few forces which remained with her,
took shelter in Dunbar, where she fortified herself, in expectation of a
reënforcement from France.

Meanwhile, she employed her partisans in representing to the people the
dangerous consequences of this open rebellion; and she endeavored to
convince them, that the Lord James, under pretence of religion,
had formed the scheme of wresting the sceptre from the hands of the
sovereign. By these considerations many were engaged to desert the army
of the congregation; but much more by the want of pay, or any means
of subsistence; and the regent, observing the malecontents to be much
weakened, ventured to march to Edinburgh, with a design of suppressing
them. On the interposition of the duke of Chatelrault, who still adhered
to her, she agreed to a capitulation, in which she granted them a
toleration of their religion, and they engaged to commit no further
depredations on the churches. Soon after, they evacuated the city; and
before they left it, they proclaimed the articles of agreement; but they
took care to publish only the articles favorable to themselves, and they
were guilty of an imposture, in adding one to the number, namely, that
idolatry should not again be erected in any place where it was at that
time suppressed.[*] [4]

An agreement concluded while men were in this disposition, could not be
durable; and both sides endeavored to strengthen themselves as much as
possible against the ensuing rupture, which appeared inevitable. The
regent, having got a reënforcement of one thousand men from France,
began to fortify Leith; and the congregation seduced to their party the
duke of Chatelrault, who had long appeared inclined to join them, and
who was at last determined by the arrival of his son, the earl of Arran,
from France, where he had escaped many dangers from the jealousy, as
well as bigotry, of Henry and the duke of Guise. More French troops soon
after disembarked under the command of La Brosse, who was followed by
the bishop of Amiens, and three doctors of the Sorbonne. These last
were supplied with store of syllogisms, authorities, citations, and
scholastic arguments, which they intended to oppose to the Scottish
preachers, and which, they justly presumed, would acquire force,
and produce conviction, by the influence of the French arms and
artillery.[**]

* See note D, at the end of the volume.

** Spotswood, p. 134. Thuan. lib. xxiv. c. 10.

The constable Montmorency had always opposed the marriage of the dauphin
with the queen of Scots, and had foretold that, by forming such close
connections with Scotland, the ancient league would be dissolved; and
the natives of that kingdom, jealous of a foreign yoke, would soon
become, instead of allies, attached by interest and inclination, the
most inveterate enemies to the French government. But though the event
seemed now to have justified the prudence of that aged minister, it is
not improbable, considering the violent counsels by which France
was governed, that the insurrection was deemed a favorable event; as
affording a pretence for sending over armies, for entirely subduing the
country, for attainting the rebels,[*] and for preparing means thence to
invade England, and support Mary's title to the crown of that kingdom.
The leaders of the congregation, well acquainted with these views, were
not insensible of their danger, and saw that their only safety consisted
in the vigor and success of their measures. They were encouraged by
the intelligence received of the sudden death of Henry II.; and having
passed an act from their own authority, depriving the queen dowager of
the regency, and ordering all the French troops to evacuate the kingdom,
they collected forces to put their edict in execution against them. They
again became masters of Edinburgh; but found themselves unable to keep
long possession of that city. Their tumultuary armies, assembled in
haste, and supported by no pay, soon separated upon the least disaster,
or even any delay of success; and were incapable of resisting such
veteran troops as the French, who were also seconded by some of the
Scottish nobility, among whom the earl of Bothwell distinguished
himself., Hearing that the marquis of Elbeuf, brother to the regent,
was levying an army against them in Germany, they thought themselves
excusable for applying, in this extremity, to the assistance of England;
and as the sympathy of religion, as well as regard to national liberty,
had now counterbalanced the ancient animosity against that kingdom, this
measure was the result of inclination no less than of interest.[**]
[5] Maitland of Lidington, therefore, and Robert Melvil, were secretly
despatched by the congregation to solicit succors from Elizabeth.

* Forbes, vol. i. p. 139. Thuan. lib. xxiv. c. 13.

** See note E, at the end of the volume.

The wise council of Elizabeth did not long deliberate in agreeing to
this request, which concurred so well with the views and interests of
their mistress. Cecil in particular represented to the queen, that the
union of the crowns of Scotland and France, both of them the hereditary
enemies of England, was ever regarded as a pernicious event; and her
father, as well as Protector Somerset, had employed every expedient both
of war and negotiation to prevent it: that the claim which Mary advanced
to the crown rendered the present situation of England still more
dangerous, and demanded on the part of the queen the greatest vigilance
and precaution; that the capacity, ambition, and exorbitant views of the
family of Guise, who now governed the French counsels, were sufficiently
known; and they themselves made no secret of their design to place
their niece on the throne of England: that deeming themselves secure of
success, they had already, somewhat imprudently and prematurely, taken
off the mask; and Throgmorton, the English ambassador at Paris,
sent over, by every courier, incontestable proofs of their hostile
intentions:[*] that they only waited till Scotland should be entirely
subdued; and having thus deprived the English of the advantages
resulting from their situation and naval power, they prepared means for
subverting the queen's authority: that the zealous Catholics in England,
discontented with the present government, and satisfied in the legality
of Mary's title, would bring them considerable reënforcement, and would
disturb every measure of defence against that formidable power: that the
only expedient for preventing these designs, was to seize the present
opportunity, and take advantage of a like zeal in the Protestants of
Scotland; nor could any doubt be entertained with regard to the justice
of a measure founded on such evident necessity, and directed only to the
ends of self-preservation: that though a French war, attended with great
expense, seemed the necessary consequence of supporting the malecontents
in Scotland, that power, if removed to the continent, would be much less
formidable; and a small disbursement at present would, in the end,
be found the greatest frugality: and that the domestic dissensions of
France, which every day augmented, together with the alliance of Philip,
who, notwithstanding his bigotry and hypocrisy, would never permit the
entire conquest of England, were sufficient to secure the queen against
the dangerous ambition and resentment of the house of Guise.[**]

* Forbes, vol. i. p. 134, 136, 149, 150, 159, 165, 181, 194,
229, 231, 235--241, 253.

** Forbes, vol. i. p 387 Jebb, vol. i. p. 448. Keith,
Append. 24.

Elizabeth's propensity to caution and economy was, though with some
difficulty,[*] overcome by these powerful motives and she prepared
herself to support by arms and money the declining affairs of the
congregation in Scotland. She equipped a fleet, which consisted of
thirteen ships of war; and giving the command of it to Winter, she sent
it to the Frith of Forth: she appointed the young duke of Norfolk her
lieutenant in the northern counties; and she assembled, at Berwick, an
army of eight thousand men under the command of Lord Gray, warden of
the east and middle marches. Though the court of France, sensible of the
danger, offered her to make immediate restitution of Calais, provided
she would not interpose in the affairs of Scotland, she resolutely
replied, that she never would put an inconsiderable fishing-town
in competition with the safety of her dominions;[**] and she still
continued her preparations. She concluded a treaty of mutual defence
with the congregation, which was to last during the marriage of the
queen of Scots with Francis, and a year after; and she promised never to
desist till the French had entirely evacuated Scotland.[***] And having
thus taken all proper measures for success, and received from the Scots
six hostages for the performance of articles, she ordered her fleet and
army to begin their operations.

* Forbes, vol. i. p. 454, 460.

** Spotswood, p. 146.

*** Knox, p. 217. Haynes's State Papers, vol. i. p. 153.
Rymer, tom. xv. p. 569.

{1560.} The appearance of Elizabeth's fleet in the frith disconcerted
the French army, who were at that time ravaging the county of Fife;
and obliged them to make a circuit by Stirling, in order to reach Leith,
where they prepared themselves for defence. The English army, reënforced
by five thousand Scots,[*] sat down before the place; and after two
skirmishes, in the former of which the English had the advantage, in the
latter the French, they began to batter the town; and, though repulsed
with considerable loss in a rash and ill-conducted assault, they reduced
the garrison to great difficulties. Their distress was augmented by two
events; the dispersion by a storm of D'Elbeuf's fleet, which carried a
considerable army on board,[**] and the death of the queen, regent, who
expired about this time in the Castle of Edinburgh; a woman endowed with
all the capacity which shone forth in her family, but possessed of much
more virtue and moderation than appeared in the conduct of the other
branches of it. The French, who found it impossible to subsist for want
of provisions, and who saw that the English were continually reënforced
by fresh numbers, were obliged to capitulate; and the bishop of Valence
and Count Randan, plenipotentiaries from France, signed a treaty at
Edinburgh with Cecil and Dr. Wotton, whom Elizabeth had sent thither for
that purpose. It was there stipulated, that the French should instantly
evacuate Scotland; that the king and queen of France and Scotland should
thenceforth abstain from bearing the arms of England, or assuming the
title of that kingdom; that further satisfaction for the injury
already done in that particular should be granted Elizabeth; and that
commissioners should meet to settle this point, or, if they could not
agree, that the king of Spain should be umpire between the crowns.
Besides these stipulations, which regarded England, some concessions
were granted to the Scots; namely, that an amnesty should be published
for all past offences; that none but natives should enjoy any office in
Scotland; that the states should name twenty-four persons, of whom the
queen of Scots should choose seven, and the states five, and in the
hands of these twelve should the whole administration be placed during
their queen's absence; and that Mary should neither make peace nor war
without consent of the states.[***] In order to hasten the execution of
this important treaty, Elizabeth sent ships, by which the French forces
were transported into their own country.

* Haynes, vol i. p. 256, 259.

** Haynes. vol. i. p. 223.

*** Rymer, tom. xv. p. 593. Keith, p. 137. Spotswood, p.
147. Knox, p. 229.

Thus Europe saw, in the first transaction of this reign, the genius and
capacity of the queen and her ministers. She discerned at a distance
the danger which threatened her; and instantly took vigorous measures
to prevent it. Making all possible advantages of her situation, she
proceeded with celerity to a decision; and was not diverted by any
offers, negotiations, or remonstrances of the French court. She stopped
not till she had brought the matter to a final issue; and had converted
that very power, to which her enemies trusted for her destruction, into
her firmest support and security. By exacting no improper conditions
from the Scottish malecontents, even during their greatest distresses,
she established an entire confidence with them; and having cemented
the union by all the ties of gratitude, interest, and religion, she now
possessed an influence over them beyond what remained even with their
native sovereign. The regard which she acquired by this dexterous and
spirited conduct, gave her every where, abroad as well as at home, more
authority than had attended her sister, though supported by all the
power of the Spanish monarchy.[*]

The subsequent measures of the Scottish reformers tended still more
to cement their union with England. Being now entirely masters of the
kingdom, they made no further ceremony or scruple in fully effecting
their purpose. In the treaty of Edinburgh, it had been agreed, that a
parliament or convention should soon be assembled; and the leaders of
the congregation, not waiting till the queen of Scots should ratify
that treaty, thought themselves fully entitled, without the sovereign's
authority, immediately to summon a parliament. The reformers presented
a petition to this assembly, in which they were not contented with
desiring the establishment of their doctrine, they also applied for
the punishment of the Catholics, whom they called vassals to the Roman
harlot; and they asserted, that among all the rabble of the clergy--such
is their expression--there was not one lawful minister; but that they
were all of them thieves and murderers; yea, rebels and traitors to
civil authority, and therefore unworthy to be suffered in any reformed
commonwealth.[**] The parliament seem to have been actuated by the same
spirit of rage and persecution. After ratifying a confession of faith
agreeable to the new doctrines, they passed a statute against the mass,
and not only abolished it in all the churches, but enacted, that whoever
any where either officiated in it, or was present at it, should be
chastised, for the first offence, with confiscation of goods and
corporal punishment, at the discretion of the magistrate; for the
second, with banishment; and for the third, with loss of life.[***]

* Forbes, vol. i. p. 354, 372. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 452.

** Knox, p. 237. 238.

*** Knox, p. 254.

A law was also voted for abolishing the papal jurisdiction in Scotland:
the Presbyterian form of discipline was settled, leaving only at first
some shadow of authority to certain ecclesiastics, whom they called
superintendents. The prelates of the ancient faith appeared, in order to
complain of great injustice committed on them by the invasion of their
property, but the parliament took no notice of them; till at last these
ecclesiastics, tired with fruitless attendance, departed the town. They
were then cited to appear; and as nobody presented himself, it was voted
by the parliament, that the ecclesiastics were entirely satisfied, and
found no reason of complaint.

Sir James Sandilands, prior of St. John, was sent over to France to
obtain the ratification of these acts; but was very ill received by
Mary, who denied the validity of a parliament summoned without the
royal consent; and she refused her sanction to those statutes. But the
Protestants gave themselves little concern about their queen's refusal.
They immediately put the statutes in execution; they abolished the
mass; they settled their ministers; they committed every where furious
devastations on the monasteries, and even on the churches, which they
thought profaned by idolatry; and deeming the property of the clergy
lawful prize, they took possession, without ceremony, of the far greater
part of the ecclesiastical revenues. Their new preachers, who had
authority sufficient to incite them to war and insurrection, could not
restrain their rapacity; and fanaticism concurring with avarice, an
incurable wound was given to the papal authority in that country. The
Protestant nobility and gentry, united by the consciousness of such
unpardonable guilt, alarmed for their new possessions, well acquainted
with the imperious character of the house of Guise, saw no safety for
themselves but in the protection of England; and they despatched Morton,
Glencarne, and Lidington, to express their sincere gratitude to the
queen for her past favors, and represent to her the necessity of
continuing them.

Elizabeth, on her part, had equal reason to maintain a union with
the Scottish Protestants; and soon found that the house of Guise,
notwithstanding their former disappointments, had not laid aside the
design of contesting her title, and subverting her authority. Francis
and Mary, whose counsels were wholly directed by them, refused to
ratify the treaty of Edinburgh and showed no disposition to give her
any satisfaction for that mortal affront which they had put upon her, by
their openly assuming the title and arms of England. She was sensible
of the danger attending such pretensions; and it was with pleasure she
heard of the violent factions which prevailed in the French government,
and of the opposition which had arisen against the measures of the duke
of Guise. That ambitious prince, supported by his four brothers, the
cardinal of Lorraine, the duke of Aumale, the marquis of Elbeuf, and the
grand prior, men no less ambitious than himself, had engrossed all the
authority of the crown; and as he was possessed of every quality which
could command the esteem or seduce the affections of men, there appeared
no end of his acquisitions and pretensions. The constable, Montmorency,
who had long balanced his credit, was deprived of all power: the princes
of the blood, the king of Navarre, and his brother, the prince of Condé,
were entirely excluded from offices and favor: the queen mother herself,
Catharine de Medicis, found her influence every day declining; and
as Francis, a young prince, infirm both in mind and body, was wholly
governed by his consort, who knew no law but the pleasure of her uncles,
men despaired of ever obtaining freedom from the dominion of that
aspiring family. It was the contests of religion which first inspired
the French with courage openly to oppose their unlimited authority.

The theological disputes, first started in the north of Germany, next
in Switzerland, countries at that time wholly illiterate, had long
ago penetrated into France; and as they were assisted by the general
discontent against the court and church of Rome, and by the zealous
spirit of the age, the proselytes to the new religion were secretly
increasing in every province. Henry II., in imitation of his father,
Francis, had opposed the progress of the reformers; and though a prince
addicted to pleasure and society, he was transported by a vehemence,
as well as bigotry, which had little place in the conduct of his
predecessor. Rigorous punishments had been inflicted on the most eminent
of the Protestant party; and a point of honor seemed to have arisen,
whether the one sect could exercise, or the other suffer, most
barbarity. The death of Henry put some stop to the persecutions; and the
people, who had admired the constancy of the new preachers, now heard
with favor their doctrines and arguments. But the cardinal of Lorraine,
as well as his brothers, who were possessed of the legal authority,
thought it their interest to support the established religion; and when
they revived the execution of the penal statutes, they necessarily drove
the malecontent princes and nobles to embrace the protection of the new
religion. The king of Navarre, a man of mild dispositions, but of a weak
character, and the prince of Condé, who possessed many great qualities,
having declared themselves in favor of the Protestants, that sect
acquired new force from their countenance; and the admiral, Coligny,
with his brother Andelot, no longer scrupled to make open profession of
their communion. The integrity of the admiral, who was believed sincere
in his attachment to the new doctrine, and his great reputation both
for valor and conduct, for the arts of peace as well as of war
brought credit to the reformers; and after a frustrated attempt of the
malecontents to seize the king's person at Amboise of which Elizabeth
had probably some intelligence,[*] every place was full of distraction,
and matters hastened to an open rupture between the parties. But the
house of Guise, though these factions had obliged them to remit their
efforts in Scotland, and had been one chief cause of Elizabeth's
success, were determined not to relinquish their authority in France,
or yield to the violence of their enemies. They found an opportunity
of seizing the king of Navarre and the prince of Condé; they threw
the former into prison; they obtained a sentence of death against the
latter; and they were proceeding to put the sentence in execution, when
the king's sudden death saved the noble prisoner, and interrupted the
prosperity of the duke of Guise. The queen mother was appointed regent
to her son Charles IX., now in his minority: the king of Navarre was
named lieutenant-general of the kingdom: the sentence against Condé was
annulled: the constable was recalled to court: and the family of
Guise, though they still enjoyed great offices and great power, found a
counterpoise to their authority.

* Forbes, vol. i. p. 214. Throgmorton, about this time,
unwilling to intrust to letters the great secrets committed
to him, obtained leave, under some pretext, to come over to
London.

{1561.} Elizabeth was determined to make advantage of these events
against the queen of Scots, whom she still regarded as a dangerous
rival. She saw herself freed from the perils attending a union of
Scotland with France, and from the pretensions of so powerful a prince
as Francis; but she considered, at the same time, that the English
Catholics, who were numerous, and who were generally prejudiced in favor
of Mary's title, would now adhere to that princess with more zealous
attachment, when they saw that her succession no longer endangered the
liberties of the kingdom, and was rather attended with the advantage of
effecting an entire union with Scotland. She gave orders, therefore, to
her ambassador, Throgmorton, a vigilant and able minister, to renew his
applications to the queen of Scots, and to require her ratification
of the treaty of Edinburgh. But though Mary had desisted, after her
husband's death, from bearing the arms and title of Queen of England,
she still declined gratifying Elizabeth in this momentous article; and
being swayed by the ambitious suggestions of her uncles, she refused to
make any formal renunciation of her pretensions.

Meanwhile the queen mother of France, who imputed to Mary all the
mortifications which she had met with during Francis's lifetime, took
care to retaliate on her by like injuries; and the queen of Scots,
finding her abode in France disagreeable, began to think of returning to
her native country. Lord James, who had been sent in deputation from the
states to invite her over, seconded these intentions; and she applied to
Elizabeth, by D'Oisel, for a safe-conduct, in case she should be obliged
to pass through England;[*] but she received for answer, that, till she
had given satisfaction, by ratifying the treaty of Edinburgh, she could
expect no favor from a person whom she had so much injured.

* Goodall, vol. i. p. 175.

This denial excited her indignation; and she made no scruple of
expressing her sentiments to Throgmorton, when he reiterated his
applications to gratify his mistress in a demand which he represented
as so reasonable. Having cleared the room of her attendants, she said to
him, "How weak I may prove, or how far a woman's frailty may transport
me, I cannot tell: however, I am resolved not to have so many witnesses
of my infirmity as your mistress had at her audience of my ambassador
D'Oisel. There is nothing disturbs me so much, as the having asked,
with so much impunity, a favor which it was of no consequence for me to
obtain. I can, with God's leave, return to my own country without
_her_ leave; as I came to France, in spite of all the opposition of her
brother, King Edward: neither do I want friends both able and willing to
conduct me home, as they have brought me hither; though I was desirous
rather to make an experiment of your mistress's friendship, than of the
assistance of any other person. I have often heard you say, that a good
correspondence between her and myself would conduce much to the security
and happiness of both our kingdoms: were she well convinced of this
truth, she would hardly have denied me so small a request. But perhaps
she bears a better inclination to my rebellious subjects than to me,
their sovereign, her equal in royal dignity, her near relation, and the
undoubted heir of her kingdoms. Besides her friendship, I ask nothing at
her hands: I neither trouble her, nor concern myself in the affairs of
her state: not that I am ignorant, that there are now in England a great
many malecontents, who are no friends to the present establishment. She
is pleased to upbraid me as a person little experienced in the world: I
freely own it; but age will cure that defect. However, I am already
old enough to acquit myself honestly and courteously to my friends and
relations, and to encourage no reports of your mistress which would
misbecome a queen and her kinswoman. I would also say, by her leave,
that I am a queen as well as she, and not altogether friendless: and,
perhaps, I have as great a soul too; so that methinks we should be upon
a level in our treatment of each other. As soon as I have consulted the
states of my kingdom, I shall be ready to give her a seasonable answer;
and I am the more intent on my journey, in order to make the quicker
despatch in this affair. But she, it seems, intends to stop my journey;
so that either she will not let me give her satisfaction, or is resolved
not to be satisfied; perhaps on purpose to keep up the disagreement
between us. She has often reproached me with my being young; and I must
be very young indeed, and as ill advised, to treat of matters of such
great concern and importance without the advice of my parliament. I have
not been wanting in all friendly offices to her; but she disbelieves or
overlooks them. I could heartily wish that I were as nearly allied to
her in affection as in blood; for that indeed would be a most valuable
alliance."[*]

* Caballa, p. 374. Spotswood, p. 177.

Such a spirited reply, notwithstanding the obliging terms interspersed
in it, was but ill fitted to conciliate friendship between these rival
princesses, or cure those mutual jealousies which had already taken
place. Elizabeth equipped a fleet on pretence of pursuing pirates, but
probably with an intention of intercepting the queen of Scots in her
return homewards. Mary embarked at Calais; and passing the English fleet
in a fog, arrived safely at Leith, attended by her three uncles, the
duke of Aumale, the grand prior, and the marquis of Elbeuf, together
with the marquis of Damville and other French courtiers. This change of
abode and situation was very little agreeable to that princess. Besides
her natural prepossessions in favor of a country in which she had been
educated from her earliest infancy, and where she had borne so high a
rank, she could not forbear both regretting the society of that
people, so celebrated for their humane disposition and their respectful
attachment to their sovereign, and reflecting on the disparity of the
scene which lay before her. It is said, that after she was embarked at
Calais, she kept her eyes fixed on the coast of France, and never turned
them from that beloved object till darkness fell, and intercepted it
from her view. She then ordered a couch to be spread for her in the open
air; and charged the pilot, that, if in the morning the land were still
in sight, he should awake her, and afford her one parting view of that
country in which all her affections were centred. The weather proved
calm, so that the ship made little way in the night-time; and Mary had
once more an opportunity of seeing the French coast. She sat up on her
couch, and still looking towards the land, often repeated these words:
"Farewell, France, farewell, I shall never see thee more."[*] The first
aspect, however, of things in Scotland was more favorable, if not to her
pleasure and happiness, at least to her repose and security, than she
had reason to apprehend. No sooner did the French galleys appear off
Leith, than people of all ranks, who had long expected their arrival,
flocked towards the shore with an earnest impatience to behold and
receive their young sovereign. Some were led by duty, some by interest,
some by curiosity; and all combined to express their attachment to her,
and to insinuate themselves into her confidence on the commencement of
her administration. She had now reached her nineteenth year; and
the bloom of her youth and amiable beauty of her person were further
recommended by the affability of her address, the politeness of her
manners, and the elegance of her genius. Well accomplished in all the
superficial but engaging graces of a court, she afforded, when better
known, still more promising indications of her character; and men
prognosticated both humanity from her soft and obliging deportment, and
penetration from her taste in all the refined arts of music, eloquence,
and poetry.[**] And as the Scots had long been deprived of the presence
of their sovereign, whom they once despaired ever more to behold among
them, her arrival seemed to give universal satisfaction; and nothing
appeared about the court but symptoms of affection, joy, and festivity.

* Keith, p. 179. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 483.

** Buchan. lib. xvii. c. 9. Spotswood, p. 178, 179. Keith,
p. 180. Thuan. lib xxix. c. 2.

The first measures which Mary embraced confirmed all the prepossessions
entertained in her favor. She followed the advice given her in France
by D'Oisel and the bishop of Amiens, as well as her uncles; and she
bestowed her confidence entirely on the leaders of the reformed party,
who had greatest influence over the people, and who, she found, were
alone able to support her government. Her brother, Lord James, whom she
soon after created earl of Murray, obtained the chief authority; and
after him Lidington, secretary of state, a man of great sagacity, had a
principal share in her confidence. By the vigor of these men's measures,
she endeavored to establish order and justice in a country divided by
public factions and private feuds; and that fierce, intractable people,
unacquainted with laws and obedience, seemed, for a time, to submit
peaceably to her gentle and prudent administration.

But there was one circumstance which blasted all these promising
appearances, and bereaved Mary of that general favor which her agreeable
manners and judicious deportment gave her just reason to expect. She
was still a Papist, and though she published, soon after her arrival, a
proclamation enjoining every one to submit to the established religion,
the preachers and their adherents could neither be reconciled to a
person polluted with so great an abomination, nor lay aside their
jealousies of her future conduct. It was with great difficulty she could
obtain permission for saying mass in her own chapel; and had not the
people apprehended, that if she had here met with a refusal, she would
instantly have returned to France, the zealots never would have granted
her even that small indulgence. The cry was, "Shall we suffer that idol
to be again erected within the realm?" It was asserted in the pulpit,
that one mass was more terrible than ten thousand armed men landed
to invade the kingdom:[*] Lord Lindesey, and the gentlemen of Fife,
exclaimed, "that the idolater should die the death;" such was their
expression. One that carried tapers for the ceremony of that worship was
attacked and insulted in the court of the palace. And if Lord James and
some popular leaders had not interposed, the most dangerous uproar was
justly apprehended from the ungoverned fury of the multitude.[**]

* Knox, p. 287.

** Knox, p. 284, 285, 287. Spotswood, p. 179.

The usual prayers in the churches were to this purpose: that God would
turn the queen's heart, which was obstinate against him and his truth;
or if his holy will be otherwise, that he would strengthen the hearts
and hands of the elect, stoutly to oppose the rage of all tyrants.[*]
Nay, it was openly called in question, whether that princess, being an
idolatress, was entitled to any authority, even in civil matters.[**]

The helpless queen was every moment exposed to contumely, which she bore
with benignity and patience. Soon after her arrival, she dined in the
Castle of Edinburgh; and it was there contrived, that a boy, six years
of age, should be let down from the roof, and should present her with
a Bible, a Psalter, and the keys of the castle. Lest she should be at a
loss to understand this insult on her as a Papist, all the decorations
expressed the burning of Corah, Dathan, and Abiram, and other
punishments inflicted by God upon idolatry.[***] The town council
of Edinburgh had the assurance, from their own authority, to issue a
proclamation banishing from their district "all the wicked rabble of
Antichrist the pope, such as priests, monks, friars, together with
adulterers and fornicators."[****] And because the privy council
suspended the magistrates for their insolence, the passionate
historians[v] of that age have inferred that the queen was engaged, by
a sympathy of manners, to take adulterers and fornicators under her
protection. It appears probable, that the magistrates were afterwards
reinstated in their office, and that their proclamation was
confirmed.[v*]

* Keith, p. 179.

** Keith, p. 202.

*** Keith, p. 189.

*** Keith, p. 192.

v Knox, p. 292. Buchan. lib. xvii. c. 20. Haynes, vol. i.
p. 372.

v* Keith, p. 202.

But all the insolence of the people was inconsiderable in comparison
of that which was exercised by the clergy and the preachers, who took
a pride in vilifying, even to her face, this amiable princess. The
assembly of the church framed an address, in which, after telling her
that her mass was a bastard service of God, the fountain of all impiety,
and the source of every evil which abounded in the realm, they expressed
their hopes, that she would ere this time have preferred truth to her
own preconceived opinion, and have renounced her religion, which, they
assured her, was nothing but abomination and vanity. They said, that the
present abuses of government were so enormous, that if a speedy remedy
were not provided, God would not fail in his anger to strike the head
and the tail, the disobedient prince and sinful people. They
required, that severe punishment should be inflicted on adulterers
and fornicators. And they concluded with demanding for themselves some
addition both of power and property.[*]

The ringleader in all these insults on majesty was John Knox; who
possessed an uncontrolled authority in the church and even in the civil
affairs of the nation, and who triumphed in the contumelious usage of
his sovereign. His usual appellation for the queen was Jezebel; and
though she endeavored by the most gracious condescension to win his
favor, all her insinuations could gain nothing on his obdurate heart.
She promised him access to her whenever he demanded it; and she even
desired him, if he found her blamable in any thing, to reprehend her
freely in private, rather than vilify her in the pulpit before the whole
people: but he plainly told her, that he had a public ministry intrusted
to him; that if she would come to church, she should there hear the
gospel of truth, and that it was not his business to apply to every
individual, nor had he leisure for that occupation.[**] The political
principles of the man, which he communicated to his brethren, were as
full of sedition, as his theological were of rage and bigotry. Though
he once condescended so far as to tell the queen that he would submit to
her, in the same manner as Paul did to Nero,[***] he remained not long
in this dutiful strain. He said to her, that "Samuel feared not to slay
Agag the fat and delicate king of Amalek, whom King Saul had saved;
neither spared Elias Jezebel's false prophets, and Baal's priests,
though King Ahab was present. Phineas," added he, "was no magistrate;
yet feared he not to strike Cosbi and Zimri in the very act of filthy
fornication. And so, madam, your grace may see that others than chief
magistrates may lawfully inflict punishment on such crimes as are
condemned by the law of God."[****] Knox had formerly, during the reign
of Mary of England, written a book against female succession to the
crown: the title of it is, "The first blast of the trumpet against
the monstrous regimen of women." He was too proud either to recant the
tenets of this book, or even to apologize for them; and his conduct
showed that he thought no more civility than loyalty due to any of the
female sex.

* Knox, p. 311, 312.

** Knox, p. 310.

*** Knox, p. 288.

**** Knox, p. 326.

The whole life of Mary was, from the demeanor of these men, filled with
bitterness and sorrow. This rustic apostle scruples not, in his history,
to inform us, that he once treated her with such severity, that she lost
all command of temper, and dissolved in tears before him: yet so far
from being moved with youth, and beauty, and royal dignity reduced to
that condition, he persevered in his insolent reproofs; and when he
relates this incident, he discovers a visible pride and satisfaction
in his own conduct.[*] The pulpits had become mere scenes of railing
against the vices of the court; among which were always noted as
the principal, feasting, finery, dancing, balls, and whoredom, their
necessary attendant.[**] Some ornaments, which the ladies at that time
wore upon their petticoats, excited mightily the indignation of the
preachers; and they affirmed, that such vanity would provoke God's
vengeance not only against these foolish women, but against the whole
realm.[***]

Mary, whose age, condition, and education, invited her to liberty and
cheerfulness, was curbed in all amusements by the absurd severity of
these reformers; and she found every moment reason to regret her leaving
that country, from whose manners she had in her early youth received
the first impressions.[****] Her two uncles, the duke of Aumale and the
grand prior, with the other French nobility, soon took leave of her: the
marquis of Elbeuf remained some time longer; but after his departure,
she was left to the society of her own subjects; men unacquainted
with the pleasures of conversation, ignorant of arts and civility, and
corrupted, beyond their usual rusticity, by a dismal fanaticism, which
rendered them incapable of all humanity or improvement. Though Mary
had made no attempt to restore the ancient religion, her Popery was a
sufficient crime: though her behavior was hitherto irreproachable, and
her manners sweet and engaging, her gayety and ease were interpreted as
signs of dissolute vanity. And to the harsh and preposterous usage which
this princess met with may, in part, be ascribed those errors of her
subsequent conduct which seemed so little of a piece with the general
tenor of her character.

* Knox, p. 332, 333.

** Knox, p. 322.

*** Knox, p. 330.

**** Knox, p. 294

There happened to the marquis of Elbeuf, before his departure, an
adventure which, though frivolous, might enable him to give Mary's
friends in France a melancholy idea of her situation. This nobleman,
with the earl of Bothwell and some other young courtiers, had been
engaged, after a debauch, to pay a visit to a woman called Alison Craig,
who was known to be liberal of her favors; and because they were denied
admittance, they broke the windows, thrust open the door, and committed
some disorders in searching for the damsel. It happened that the
assembly of the church was sitting at that time, and they immediately
took the matter under their cognizance. In conjunction with several
of the nobility, they presented an address to the queen, which was
introduced with this awful prelude: "To the queen's majesty, and to her
secret and great council, her grace's faithful and obedient subjects,
the professors of Christ Jesus's holy evangil, wish the spirit of
righteous judgment." The tenor of the petition was that the fear of
God, the duty which they owed her grace, and the terrible threatenings
denounced by God against every city or country where horrible crimes
were openly committed, compelled them to demand the severe punishment of
such as had done what in them lay to kindle the wrath of God against the
whole realm; that the iniquity of which they complained was so heinous
and so horrible that they should esteem themselves accomplices in it, if
they had been engaged by worldly fear, or servile complaisance, to pass
it over in silence, or bury it in oblivion: that as they owed her grace
obedience, in the administration of justice, so were they entitled to
require of her, in return, the sharp and condign punishment of this
enormity, which, they repeated it, might draw down the vengeance of God
on the whole kingdom: and that they maintained it to be her duty to lay
aside all private affections towards the actors in so heinous a crime,
and so enormous a villany, and without delay bring them to a trial,
and inflict the severest penalty upon them. The queen gave a gracious
reception to his peremptory address, but because she probably thought
that breaking the windows of a brothel merited not such severe
reprehension, she only replied, that her uncle was a stranger, and that
he was attended by a young company; but she would put such order to him
and to all others that her subjects should henceforth have no reason to
complain. Her passing over this incident so slightly was the source of
great discontent, and was regarded as a proof of the most profligate
manners.[*]

* Knox, p. 302, 303, 304. Keith, p. 509.

It is not to be omitted, that Alison Craig, the cause of all the uproar
was known to entertain a commerce with the earl of Arran, who, on
account of his great zeal for the reformation, was, without scruple,
indulged in that enormity.[*]

Some of the populace of Edinburgh broke into the queen's chapel
during her absence, and committed outrages; for which two of them were
indicted, and it was intended to bring them to a trial. Knox wrote
circular letters to the most considerable zealots of the party, and
charged them to appear in town and protect their brethren. The holy
sacraments, he there said, are abused by profane Papists; the mass has
been said; and in worshipping that idol, the priests have omitted no
ceremony, not even the conjuring of their accursed water, that had ever
been practised in the time of the greatest blindness. These violent
measures for opposing justice were little short of rebellion; and Knox
was summoned before the council to answer for his offence. The courage
of the man was equal to his insolence. He scrupled not to tell the queen
that the pestilent Papists who had inflamed her against these holy men
were the sons of the devil; and must therefore obey the directions of
their father, who had been a liar and a manslayer from the beginning.
The matter ended with the full acquittal of Knox.[**] Randolph, the
English ambassador in Scotland, had reason to write to Cecil, speaking
of the Scottish nation, "I think marvellously of the wisdom of God, that
gave this unruly, inconstant, and cumbersome people no more power nor
substance; for they would otherwise run wild."[***]

* Knox.

** Knox, p. 336, 342.

*** Keith, p. 202.

We have related these incidents at greater length than the necessity of
our subject may seem to require; but even trivial circumstances, which
show the manners of the age, are often more instructive, as well as
entertaining, than the great transactions of wars and negotiations,
which are nearly similar in all periods and in all countries of the
world.

The reformed clergy in Scotland had at that time a very natural reason
for their ill humor; namely, the poverty, or rather beggary, to which
they were reduced. The nobility and gentry had at first laid their hands
on all the property of the regular clergy, without making any provision
for the friars and nuns, whom they turned out of their possessions.
The secular clergy of the Catholic communion, though they lost all
ecclesiastical jurisdiction, still held some of the temporalities of
their benefices; and either became laymen themselves and converted them
into private property, or made conveyance of them at low prices to the
nobility, who thus enriched themselves by the plunder of the church. The
new teachers had hitherto subsisted chiefly by the voluntary oblations
of the faithful; and in a poor country, divided in religious sentiments,
this establishment was regarded as very scanty and very precarious.
Repeated applications were made for a legal settlement to the preachers;
and though almost every thing in the kingdom was governed by their
zeal and caprice, it was with difficulty that their request was at
last complied with. The fanatical spirit which they indulged, and
their industry in decrying the principles and practices of the Romish
communion, which placed such merit in enriching the clergy, proved now
a very sensible obstacle to their acquisitions. The convention, however,
passed a vote,[*] by which they divided all the ecclesiastical
benefices into twenty-one shares: they assigned fourteen to the ancient
possessors: of the remaining seven they granted three to the crown;
and if that were found to answer the public expenses, they bestowed the
overplus on the reformed ministers. The queen was empowered to levy all
the seven; and it was ordained that she should afterwards pay to the
clergy what should be judged to suffice for their maintenance. The
necessities of the crown, the rapacity of the courtiers, and the small
affection which Mary bore to the Protestant ecclesiastics, rendered
their revenues contemptible as well as uncertain; and the preachers,
finding that they could not rival the gentry, or even the middling rank
of men, in opulence and plenty, were necessitated to betake themselves
to other expedients for supporting their authority. They affected a
furious zeal for religion, morose manners, a vulgar and familiar, yet
mysterious cant; and though the liberality of subsequent princes put
them afterwards on a better footing with regard to revenue, and thereby
corrected in some degree those bad habits, it must be confessed that,
while many other advantages attend Presbyterian government, these
inconveniences are not easily separated from the genius of that
ecclesiastical polity.

* Knox, p. 296. Keith, p. 210.

The queen of Scots, destitute of all force, possessing a narrow revenue,
surrounded with a factious, turbulent nobility, a bigoted people,
and insolent ecclesiastics, soon found that her only expedient for
maintaining tranquillity was to preserve a good correspondence with
Elizabeth,[*] who, by former connections and services, had acquired such
authority over all these ranks of men.

* Jebb, vol. ii. p. 456.

Soon after her arrival in Scotland, Secretary Lidington was sent to
London, in order to pay her compliments to the queen, and express
her desire of friendship and a good correspondence; and he received
a commission from her, as well as from the nobility of Scotland, to
demand, as a means of cementing this friendship, that Mary should, by
act of parliament or by proclamation, (for the difference between these
securities was not then deemed very considerable,) be declared successor
to the crown. No request could be more unreasonable, or made at a more
improper juncture. The queen replied, that Mary had once discovered
her intention not to wait for the succession, but had openly, without
ceremony or reserve, assumed the title of Queen of England, and had
pretended a superior right to her throne and kingdom: that though her
ambassadors and those of her husband, the French king, had signed a
treaty, in which they renounced that claim, and promised satisfaction
for so great an indignity, she was so intoxicated with this imaginary
right, that she had rejected the most earnest solicitations, and
even, as some endeavored to persuade her, had incurred some danger, in
crossing the seas, rather than ratify that equitable treaty: that her
partisans every where had still the assurance to insist on her title,
and had presumed to talk of her own birth as illegitimate: that while
affairs were on this footing; while a claim thus openly made, so far
from being openly renounced, was only suspended till a more favorable
opportunity; it would in her be the most egregious imprudence to fortify
the hands of a pretender to her crown by declaring her the successor:
that no expedient could be worse imagined for cementing friendship than
such a declaration; and kings were often found to bear no good will to
their successors, even though their own children; much more when
the connection was less intimate, and when such cause of disgust and
jealousy had already been given, and indeed was still continued, on the
part of Mary: that though she was willing, from the amity which she
bore her kinswoman, to ascribe her former pretensions to the advice of
others, by whose direction she was then governed, her present refusal to
relinquish them could proceed only from her own prepossessions, and was
a proof that she still harbored some dangerous designs against her:
that it was the nature of all men to be disgusted with the present,
to entertain flattering views of futurity, to think their services ill
rewarded, to expect a better recompense from the successor; and she
should esteem herself scarcely half a sovereign over the English, if
they saw her declare her heir, and arm her rival with authority against
her own repose and safety: that she knew the inconstant nature of the
people; she was acquainted with the present divisions in religion;
she was not ignorant that the same party, which expected greater favor
during the reign of Mary, did also imagine that the title of that
princess was superior to her own: that for her part, whatever claims
were advanced, she was determined to live and die queen of England; and
after her death it was the business of others to examine who had the
best pretensions, either by the laws or by right of blood, to the
succession: that she hoped the claim of the queen of Scots would then be
found solid; and, considering the injury which she herself had received,
it was sufficient indulgence if she promised, in the mean time, to do
nothing which might in any respect weaken or invalidate it: and that
Mary, if her title were really preferable--a point which, for her own
part, she had never inquired into--possessed all advantages above her
rivals; who, destitute both of present power and of all support by
friends, would only expose themselves to inevitable ruin, by advancing
any weak, or even doubtful pretensions.[*]

These views of the queen were so prudent and judicious, that there was
no likelihood of her ever departing from them: but that she might put
the matter to a fuller proof, she offered to explain the words of the
treaty of Edinburgh, so as to leave no suspicion of their excluding
Mary's right of succession;[**] and in this form she again required her
to ratify that treaty. Matters at last came to this issue, that Mary
agreed to the proposal, and offered to renounce all present pretensions
to the crown of England, provided Elizabeth would agree to declare her
the successor.[***] But such was the jealous character of this latter
princess, that she never would consent to strengthen the interest and
authority of any claimant by fixing the succession; much less would
she make this concession in favor of a rival queen, who possessed
such plausible pretensions for the present, and who, though she might
verbally renounce them, could easily resume her claim on the first
opportunity.

* Buchanan, lib. xvii. c. 14-17. Camden, p. 385. Spotswood,
p. 180, 181.

** Spotswood, p. 181.

*** Haynes, vol. i. p. 377.

Mary's proposal, however, bore so specious an appearance of equity and
justice, that Elizabeth, sensible that reason would, by superficial
thinkers, be deemed to lie entirely on that side, made no more mention
of the matter; and though further concessions were never made by either
princess, they put on all the appearances of a cordial reconciliation
and friendship with each other.

The queen observed that, even without her interposition, Mary was
sufficiently depressed by the mutinous spirit of her own subjects;
and instead of giving Scotland for the present any inquietude or
disturbance, she employed herself, more usefully and laudably, in
regulating the affairs of her own kingdom, and promoting the happiness
of her people. She made some progress in paying those great debts which
lay upon the crown; she regulated the coin, which had been much debased
by her predecessors; she furnished her arsenals with great quantities of
arms from Germany and other places; engaged her nobility and gentry to
imitate her example in this particular; introduced into the kingdom the
art of making gunpowder and brass cannon; fortified her frontiers on
the side of Scotland; made frequent reviews of the militia; encouraged
agriculture, by allowing a free exportation of corn; promoted trade and
navigation; and so much increased the shipping of her kingdom, both by
building vessels of force herself, and suggesting like undertakings to
the merchants, that she was justly styled the restorer of naval glory,
and the queen of the northern seas.[*] The natural frugality of her
temper, so far from incapacitating her for these great enterprises, only
enabled her to execute them with greater certainty and success; and
all the world, saw in her conduct the happy effects of a vigorous
perseverance in judicious and well-concerted projects.

* Camden, p. 388. Strype, vol. i. p. 230, 336, 337.

It is easy to imagine that so great a princess, who enjoyed such
singular felicity and renown, would receive proposals of marriage from
every one that had any likelihood of succeeding; and though she had made
some public declarations in favor of a single life, few believed that
she would persevere forever in that resolution. The archduke Charles,
second son of the emperor,[*] as well as Casimir, son of the elector
palatine, made applications to her; and as this latter prince professed
the reformed religion, he thought himself, on that account, better
entitled to succeed in his addresses. Eric, king of Sweden, and Adolph,
duke of Holstein, were encouraged by the same views to become suitors:
and the earl of Arran, heir to the crown of Scotland, was, by the states
of that kingdom, recommended to her as a suitable marriage.

* Haynes, vol. i. p. 233.

Even some of her own subjects, though they did not openly declare their
pretensions, entertained hopes of success. The earl of Arundel, a person
declining in years, but descended from an ancient and noble family, as
well as possessed of great riches, flattered himself with this prospect;
as did also Sir William Pickering, a man much esteemed for his personal
merit. But the person most likely to succeed, was a younger son of the
late duke of Northumberland, Lord Robert Dudley, who, by means of his
exterior qualities, joined to address and flattery, had become in
a manner her declared favorite, and had great influence in all her
counsels. The less worthy he appeared of this distinction, the more was
his great favor ascribed to some violent affection, which could thus
seduce the judgment of this penetrating princess; and men long expected
that he would obtain the preference above so many princes and monarchs.
But the queen gave all these suitors a gentle refusal, which still
encouraged their pursuit; and thought that she should the better attach
them to her interest, if they were still allowed to entertain hopes of
succeeding in their pretensions. It is also probable that this policy
was not entirely free from a mixture of female coquetry; and that,
though she was determined in her own mind never to share her power with
any man, she was not displeased with the courtship, solicitation, and
professions of love, which the desire of acquiring so valuable a prize
procured her from all quarters.

What is most singular in the conduct and character of Elizabeth is, that
though she determined never to have any heir of her own body, she was
not only very averse to fix any successor to the crown, but seems, also,
to have resolved, as far as it lay in her power, that no one who had
pretensions to the succession should ever have any heirs or successors.
If the exclusion given by the will of Henry VIII. to the posterity of
Margaret, queen of Scotland, was allowed to be valid, the right to the
crown devolved on the house of Suffolk; and the lady Catharine Gray,
younger sister to the lady Jane, was now the heir of that family. This
lady had been married to Lord Herbert, son of the earl of Pembroke; but
having been divorced from that nobleman, she had made a private marriage
with the earl of Hertford, son of the protector; and her husband, soon
after consummation, travelled into France. In a little time she appeared
to be pregnant, which so enraged Elizabeth, that she threw her into
the Tower, and summoned Hertford to appear, in order to answer for his
misdemeanor. He made no scruple of acknowledging the marriage, which,
though concluded without the queen's consent, was entirely suitable to
both parties; and for this offence he was also committed to the Tower.
Elizabeth's severity stopped not here: she issued a commission to
inquire into the matter; and as Hertford could not, within the time
limited, prove the nuptials by witnesses, the commerce between him and
his consort was declared unlawful, and their posterity illegitimate.
They were still detained in custody, but by bribing their keepers, they
found means to have further intercourse; and another child appeared to
be the fruit of their commerce. This was a fresh source of vexation to
the queen; who made a fine of fifteen thousand pounds be set on Hertford
by the star chamber and ordered his confinement to be thenceforth more
rigid and severe. He lay in this condition for nine years, till the
death of his wife, by freeing Elizabeth from all fears, procured him his
liberty.[*] This extreme severity must be accounted for, either by the
unrelenting jealousy of the queen, who was afraid lest a pretender
to the succession should acquire credit by having issue; or by her
malignity, which, with all her great qualities, made one ingredient
in her character, and which led her to envy in others those natural
pleasures of love and posterity, of which her own ambition and desire of
dominion made her renounce all prospect for herself.

* Haynes, vol. i. p. 369, 378, 396. Camden, p. 389. Heylin,
p. 154.

There happened, about this time, some other events in the royal family
where the queen's conduct was more laudable. Arthur Pole and his
brother, nephews to the late cardinal, and descended from the duke of
Clarence, together with Anthony Fortescue, who had married a sister of
these gentlemen, and some other persons, were brought to their trial
for intending to withdraw into France, with a view of soliciting
succors from the duke of Guise, of returning thence into Wales, and of
proclaiming Mary queen of England, and Arthur Pole duke of Clarence.
They confessed the indictment, but asserted that they never meant to
execute these projects during the queen's lifetime: they had only deemed
such precautions requisite in case of her demise, which some pretenders
to judicial astrology had assured them they might with certainty look
for before the year expired. They were condemned by the jury; but
received a pardon from the queen's clemency.[*]

* Strype, vol. i. p. 333. Heylin, p. 154.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

ELIZABETH.

{1562.} After the commencement of the religious wars in France, which
rendered that flourishing kingdom, during the course of near forty
years, a scene of horror and devastation, the great rival powers in
Europe were Spain and England; and it was not long before an animosity,
first political, then personal, broke out between the sovereigns of
these countries.

Philip II. of Spain, though he reached not any enlarged views of policy,
was endowed with great industry and sagacity, a remarkable caution in
his enterprises, an unusual foresight in all his measures; and as he
was ever cool, and seemingly unmoved by passion, and possessed neither
talents nor inclination for war, both his subjects and his neighbors
had reason to expect justice, happiness, and tranquillity from his
administration. But prejudices had on him as pernicious effects as ever
passion had on any other monarch; and the spirit of bigotry and tyranny
by which he was actuated, with the fraudulent maxims which governed
his counsels, excited the most violent agitation among his own people,
engaged him in acts of the most enormous cruelty, and threw all Europe
into combustion.

After Philip had concluded peace at Chateau-Cambresis and had remained
some time in the Netherlands, in order to settle the affairs of that
country, he embarked for Spain; and as the gravity of that nation, with
their respectful obedience to their prince, had appeared more agreeable
to his humor than the homely, familiar manners and the pertinacious
liberty of the Flemings, it was expected that he would for the future
reside altogether at Madrid, and would govern all his extensive
dominions by Spanish ministers and Spanish counsels. Having met with a
violent tempest on his voyage, he no sooner arrived in harbor than he
fell on his knees; and after giving thanks for his deliverance, he vowed
that his life, which was thus providentially saved, should thenceforth
be entirely devoted to the extirpation of heresy.[*] His subsequent
conduct corresponded to these professions. Finding that the new
doctrines had penetrated into Spain, he let loose the rage of
persecution against all who professed them, or were suspected of
adhering to them; and by his violence he gave new edge even to the usual
cruelty of priests and inquisitors. He threw into prison Constantine
Ponce, who had been confessor to his father, the emperor Charles;
who had attended him during his retreat; and in whose arms that great
monarch had terminated his life: and after this ecclesiastic died in
confinement, he still ordered him to be tried and condemned for heresy,
and his statue to be committed to the flames. He even deliberated
whether he should not exercise like severity against the memory of his
father, who was suspected, during his later years, to have indulged a
propensity towards the Lutheran principles: in his unrelenting zeal for
orthodoxy, he spared neither age, sex, nor condition: he was present,
with an inflexible countenance, at the most barbarous executions: he
issued rigorous orders for the prosecution of heretics in Spain, Italy,
the Indies, and the Low Countries: and having founded his determined
tyranny on maxims of civil policy, as well as on principles of religion,
he made it apparent to all his subjects, that there was no method,
except the most entire compliance or most obstinate resistance, to
escape or elude the severity of his vengeance.

* Thuanns, lib. xxiii. cap. 14.

During that extreme animosity which prevailed between the adherents of
the opposite religions, the civil magistrate, who found it difficult,
if not impossible, for the same laws to govern such enraged adversaries,
was naturally led, by specious rules of prudence, in embracing one
party, to declare war against the other, and to exterminate by fire and
sword those bigots who, from abhorrence of his religion, had proceeded
to an opposition of his power and to a hatred of his person. If any
prince possessed such enlarged views as to foresee, that a mutual
toleration would in time abate the fury of religious prejudices, he yet
met with difficulties in reducing this principle to practice; and might
deem the malady too violent to await a remedy, which, though certain,
must necessarily be slow in its operation. But Philip, though a profound
hypocrite, and extremely governed by self-interest seems also to have
been himself actuated by an imperious bigotry; and as he employed
great reflection in all his conduct, he could easily palliate the
gratification of his natural temper under the color of wisdom, and
find in this system no less advantage to his foreign than his domestic
politics. By placing himself at the head of the Catholic party, he
converted the zealots of the ancient faith into partisans of Spanish
greatness; and by employing the powerful allurement of religion, he
seduced every where the subjects from that allegiance which they owed to
their native sovereign.

The course of events, guiding and concurring with choice, had placed
Elizabeth in a situation diametrically opposite; and had raised her to
be the glory, the bulwark, and the support of the numerous, though still
persecuted Protestants, throughout Europe. More moderate in her temper
than Philip, she found, with pleasure, that the principles of her sect
required not such extreme severity in her domestic government as was
exercised by that monarch; and having no object but self-preservation,
she united her interests in all foreign negotiations with those who were
every where struggling under oppression, and guarding themselves against
ruin and extermination. The more virtuous sovereign was thus happily
thrown into the more favorable cause; and fortune, in this instance,
concurred with policy and nature.

During the lifetime of Henry II. of France, and of his successor, the
force of these principles was somewhat restrained, though not altogether
overcome, by motives of a superior interest; and the dread of uniting
England with the French monarchy engaged Philip to maintain a good
correspondence with Elizabeth. Yet even during this period he rejected
the garter which she sent him; he refused to ratify the ancient league
between the house of Burgundy and England;[*] he furnished ships to
transport French forces into Scotland; he endeavored to intercept
the earl of Arran, who was hastening to join the malecontents in that
country; and the queen's wisest ministers still regarded his friendship
as hollow and precarious.[**]

* Digges's Complete Ambassador, p. 369. Haynes, p. 585.
Strype vol. iv. No. 246.

** Haynes, vol. i. p. 280, 281, 283, 284.

But no sooner did the death of Francis II. put an end to Philip's
apprehensions with regard to Mary's succession, than his animosity
against Elizabeth began more openly to appear; and the interests of
Spain and those of England were found opposite in every negotiation and
transaction.

The two great monarchies of the continent, France and Spain, being
possessed of nearly equal force, were naturally antagonists; and
England, from its power and situation, was entitled to support its own
dignity, as well as tranquillity, by holding the balance between them.
Whatever incident, therefore, tended too much to depress one of these
rival powers, as it left the other without control, might be deemed
contrary to the interests of England; yet so much were these great
maxims of policy overruled, during that age, by the disputes of
theology, that Philip found an advantage in supporting the established
government and religion of France, and Elizabeth in protecting faction
and innovation.

The queen regent of France, when reinstated in authority by the death
of her son Francis, had formed a plan of administration more subtle than
judicious; and balancing the Catholics with the Hugonots, the duke
of Guise with the prince of Condé, she endeavored to render herself
necessary to both, and to establish her own dominion on their
constrained obedience.[*] But the equal counterpoise of power, which,
among foreign nations, is the source of tranquillity, proves always the
ground of quarrel between domestic factions; and if the animosity of
religion concur with the frequent occasions which present themselves
of mutual injury, it is impossible during any time, to preserve a firm
concord in so delicate a situation. The constable Montmorency, moved
by zeal for the ancient faith, joined himself to the duke of Guise: the
king of Navarre, from his inconstant temper, and his jealousy of the
superior genius of his brother, embraced the same party: and Catharine,
finding herself depressed by this combination, had recourse to Condé
and the Hugonots, who gladly embraced the opportunity of fortifying
themselves by her countenance and protection.[**]

* Davila, lib. ii.

** Davila, lib. iii

An edict had been published, granting a toleration to the Protestants;
but the interested violence of the duke of Guise, covered with the
pretence of religious zeal, broke through this agreement; and the two
parties, after the fallacious tranquillity of a moment, renewed their
mutual insults and injuries. Condé, Coligny, Andelot assembled their
friends and flew to arms: Guise and Montmorency got possession of the
king's person, and constrained the queen regent to embrace their party:
fourteen armies were levied and put in motion in different parts of
France;[*] each province, each city, each family, was agitated with
intestine rage and animosity. The father was divided against the
son; brother against brother; and women themselves, sacrificing their
humanity as well as their timidity to the religious fury, distinguished
themselves by acts of ferocity and valor.[**] Wherever the Hugonots
prevailed, the images were broken, the altars pillaged, the churches
demolished, the monasteries consumed with fire: where success attended
the Catholics, they burned the Bibles, rebaptized the infants,
constrained married persons to pass anew through the nuptial ceremony:
and plunder, desolation, and bloodshed attended equally the triumph
of both parties. The parliament of Paris itself, the seat of law and
justice, instead of employing its authority to compose these fatal
quarrels, published an edict by which it put the sword into the hands
of the enraged multitude, and empowered the Catholics every where to
massacre the Hugonots:[***] and it was during this period, when men
began to be somewhat enlightened, and in this nation, renowned for
polished manners, that the theological rage, which had long been boiling
in men's veins, seems to have attained its last stage of virulence and
ferocity.

* Father Paul, lib. vii.

** Father Paul, lib. vii.

*** Father Paul, lib. vii. Haynes, p. 391.

Philip, jealous of the progress which the Hugonots made in France, and
dreading that the contagion would spread into the Low Country provinces,
had formed a secret alliance with the princes of Guise, and had entered
into a mutual concert for the protection of the ancient faith and the
suppression of heresy. He now sent six thousand men, with some supply of
money, to reënforce the Catholic party; and the prince of Condé, finding
himself unequal to so great a combination, countenanced by the royal
authority, was obliged to despatch the Vidame of Chartres and Briguemaut
to London, in order to crave the assistance and protection of Elizabeth.
Most of the province of Normandy was possessed by the Hugonots: and
Condé offered to put Havre de Grace into the hands of the English; on
condition that, together with three thousand man for the garrison of
that place, the queen should likewise send over three thousand to defend
Dieppe and Rouen, and should furnish the prince with a supply of a
hundred thousand crowns.[*]

Elizabeth, besides the general and essential interest of supporting the
Protestants, and opposing the rapid progress of her enemy the duke of
Guise, had other motives which engaged her to accept of this proposal.
When she concluded the peace at Chateau-Cambresis, she had good reason
to foresee that France never would voluntarily fulfil the article which
regarded the restitution of Calais; and many subsequent incidents had
tended to confirm this suspicion. Considerable sums of money had been
expended on the fortifications; long leases had been granted of the
lands; and many inhabitants had been encouraged to build and settle
there, by assurances that Calais should never be restored to the
English.[**] The queen therefore wisely concluded, that, could she get
possession of Havre, a place which commanded the mouth of the Seine, and
was of greater importance than Calais, she should easily constrain the
French to execute the treaty, and should have the glory of restoring to
the crown that ancient possession, so much the favorite of the nation.

No measure could be more generally odious in France than the conclusion
of this treaty with Elizabeth. Men were naturally led to compare the
conduct of Guise, who had finally expelled the English, and had debarred
these dangerous and destructive enemies from all access into France,
with the treasonable politics of Condé, who had again granted them an
entrance into the heart of the kingdom. The prince had the more reason
to repent of this measure, as he reaped not from it all the advantage
which he expected. Three thousand English immediately took possession
of Havre and Dieppe, under the command of Sir Edward Poinings; but
the latter place was found so little capable of defence, that it was
immediately abandoned.[***] The siege of Rouen was already formed by the
Catholics, under the command of the king of Navarre and Montmorency; and
it was with difficulty that Poinings could throw a small
reënforcement into the place. Though these English troops behaved with
gallantry,[****] and though the king of Navarre was mortally wounded
during the siege, the Catholics still continued the attack of the place,
and carrying it at last by assault, put the whole garrison to the sword.

* Forbes, vol. ii. p. 48.

** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 54, 257.

*** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 199.

**** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 161.

The earl of Warwick, eldest son of the late duke of Northumberland,
arrived soon after at Havre with another body of three thousand English,
and took on him the command of the place.

It was expected that the French Catholics, flushed with their success at
Rouen, would immediately have formed the siege of Havre, which was not
as yet in any condition of defence; but the intestine disorders of the
kingdom soon diverted their attention to another enterprise. Andelot,
seconded by the negotiations of Elizabeth, had levied a considerable
body of Protestants in Germany; and having arrived at Orleans, the seat
of the Hugonots' power, he enabled the prince of Condé and the admiral
to take the field, and oppose the progress of their enemies. After
threatening Paris during some time, they took their march towards
Normandy, with a view of engaging the English to act in conjunction with
them, and of fortifying themselves by the further assistance which
they expected from the zeal and vigor of Elizabeth.[*] The Catholics,
commanded by the constable, and under him by the duke of Guise, followed
on their rear; and overtaking them at Dreux, obliged them to give
battle. The field was fought with great obstinacy on both sides; and
the action was distinguished by this singular event, that Condé and
Montmorency, the commanders of the opposite armies, fell both of them
prisoners into the hands of their enemies. The appearances of victory
remained with Guise, but the admiral, whose fate it ever was to be
defeated, and still to rise more terrible after his misfortunes,
collected the remains of the army; and inspiring his own unconquerable
courage and constancy into every breast, kept them in a body, and
subdued some considerable places in Normandy. Elizabeth, the better to
support his cause, sent him a new supply of a hundred thousand crowns;
and offered, if he could find merchants to lend him the money, to give
her bond for another sum of equal amount.[**]

* Forbes, vol. ii. p. 320. Davila, lib. iii.

** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 322, 347.

{1563.} The expenses incurred by assisting the French Hugonots had
emptied the queen's exchequer; and in order to obtain supply, she found
herself under a necessity of summoning a parliament: an expedient to
which she never willingly had recourse. A little before the meeting of
this assembly, she had fallen into a dangerous illness, the small-pox;
and as her life, during some time, was despaired of, the people
became the more sensible of their perilous situation, derived from the
uncertainty, which, in case of her demise, attended the succession of
the crown. The partisans of the queen of Scots, and those of the house
of Suffolk, already divided the nation into factions; and every one
foresaw, that, though it might be possible at present to determine the
controversy by law, yet, if the throne were vacant, nothing but the
sword would be able to fix a successor. The commons, therefore, on the
opening of the session, voted an address to the queen; in which, after
enumerating the dangers attending a broken and doubtful succession,
and mentioning the evils which their fathers had experienced from the
contending titles of York and Lancaster, they entreated the queen to
put an end to their apprehensions, by choosing some husband, whom they
promised, whoever he were, gratefully to receive, and faithfully to
serve, honor, and obey: or if she had entertained any reluctance to the
married state, they desired that the lawful successor might be named,
at least appointed by act of parliament. They remarked, that, during
all the reigns which had passed since the conquest, the nation had never
before been so unhappy as not to know the person who, in case of the
sovereign's death, was legally entitled to fill the vacant throne. And
they observed, that the fixed order which took place in inheriting the
French monarchy, was one chief source of the usual tranquillity, as well
as of the happiness, of that kingdom.[*]

* Sir Simon d'Ewes's Journ. p. 81.

This subject, though extremely interesting to the nation, was very
little agreeable to the queen; and she was sensible that great
difficulties would attend every decision. A declaration in favor of the
queen of Scots would form a settlement perfectly legal; because that
princess was commonly allowed to possess the right of blood; and the
exclusion given by Henry's will, deriving its weight chiefly from an
act of parliament, would lose all authority whenever the queen and
parliament had made a new settlement, and restored the Scottish line to
its place in the succession. But she dreaded giving encouragement to
the Catholics, her secret enemies, by this declaration. She was sensible
that every heir was, in some degree, a rival; much more one who enjoyed
a claim for the present possession of the crown, and who had already
advanced, in a very open manner, these dangerous pretensions. The great
power of Mary, both from the favor of the Catholic princes, and her
connections with the house of Guise, not to mention the force and
situation of Scotland, was well known to her; and she saw no security,
that this princess, if fortified by a sure prospect of succession, would
not revive claims which she could never yet be prevailed on formally
to relinquish. On the other hand, the title of the house of Suffolk was
supported by the more zealous Protestants only; and it was very doubtful
whether even a parliamentary declaration in its favor would bestow on it
such validity as to give satisfaction to the people. The republican
part of the constitution had not yet acquired such an ascendant as
to control, in any degree, the ideas of hereditary right, and as the
legality of Henry's will was still disputed, though founded on the
utmost authority which a parliament could confer, who could be assured
that a more recent act would be acknowledged to have greater validity?
In the frequent revolutions which had of late taken place, the right of
blood had still prevailed over religious prejudices; and the nation had
ever shown itself disposed rather to change its faith than the order of
succession. Even many Protestants declared themselves in favor of
Mary's claim of inheritance;[*] and nothing would occasion more general
disgust, than to see the queen, openly and without reserve, take part
against it.

* Keith, p. 322.

The Scottish princess also, finding herself injured in so sensible a
point, would thenceforth act as a declared enemy; and uniting together
her foreign and domestic friends, the partisans of her present title
and of her eventual succession, would soon bring matters to extremities
against the present establishment. The queen, weighing all these
inconveniences, which were great and urgent, was determined to keep
both parties in awe, by maintaining still an ambiguous conduct; and she
rather chose that the people should run the hazard of contingent events,
than that she herself should visibly endanger her throne, by employing
expedients, which, at best, would not bestow entire security on the
nation. She gave, therefore, an evasive answer to the applications of
the commons; and when the house, at the end of the session, desired, by
the mouth of their speaker, further satisfaction on that head, she could
not be prevailed on to make her reply more explicit. She only told them,
contrary to her declarations in the beginning of her reign, that she had
fixed no absolute resolution against marriage; and she added, that the
difficulties attending the question of the succession were so great that
she would be contented, for the sake of her people, to remain some
time longer in this vale of misery; and never should depart life with
satisfaction, till she had laid some solid foundation for their future
security.[*]

The most remarkable law passed this session, was that which bore the
title of "Assurance of the queen's royal power over all states and
subjects within her dominions."[**] By this act, the asserting twice,
by writing, word, or deed, the pope's authority, was subjected to the
penalties of treason. All persons in holy orders were bound to take the
oath of supremacy; as also all who were advanced to any degree, either
in the universities or in common law; all schoolmasters, officers in
court, or members of parliament: and the penalty of their second
refusal was treason. The first offence, in both cases, was punished by
banishment and forfeiture. This rigorous statute was not extended to
any of the degree of a baron; because it was not supposed that the
queen could entertain any doubt with regard to the fidelity of persons
possessed of such high dignity. Lord Montacute made opposition to the
bill; and asserted, in favor of the Catholics, that they disputed not,
they preached not, they disobeyed not the queen, they caused no trouble,
no tumults among the people.[***] It is, however, probable, that
some suspicions of their secret conspiracies had made the queen and
parliament increase their rigor against them; though it is also more
than probable, that they were mistaken in the remedy.

There was likewise another point, in which the parliament, this session,
showed more the goodness of their intention than the soundness of their
judgment. They passed a law against fond and fantastical prophecies,
which had been observed to seduce the people into rebellion and
disorder:[****] but at the same time they enacted a statute, which
was most likely to increase these and such like superstitions: it was
levelled against conjurations, enchantments, and witchcraft.[v]

* Sir Simon D'Ewes's Journal, p. 75.

** 5 Eliz. c. 1.

*** Strype, vol. i. p 260.

**** 5 Eliz. c. I

v 5 Eliz. c. 16.

Witchcraft and heresy are two crimes which commonly increase by
punishment, and never are so effectually suppressed as by being totally
neglected. After the parliament had granted the queen a supply of one
subsidy and two fifteenths, the session was finished by a prorogation.
The convocation likewise voted the queen a subsidy of six shillings in
the pound, payable in three years.

While the English parties exerted these calm efforts against each other
in parliamentary votes and debates, the French factions, inflamed to
the highest degree of animosity, continued that cruel war which their
intemperate zeal, actuated by the ambition of their leaders, had kindled
in the kingdom. The admiral was successful in reducing the towns of
Normandy which held for the king; but he frequently complained that
the numerous garrison of Havre remained totally inactive, and was not
employed in any military operation against the common enemy. The queen,
in taking possession of that place, had published a manifesto,[*] in
which she pretended that her concern for the interests of the French
king had engaged her in that measure, and that her sole intention was
to oppose her enemies of the house of Guise, who held their prince in
captivity, and employed his power to the destruction of his best
and most faithful subjects. It was chiefly her desire to preserve
appearances, joined to the great frugality of her temper, which made her
at this critical juncture keep her soldiers in garrison, and restrain
them from committing further hostilities upon the enemy.[**]

* Forbes, vol. ii.

** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 276, 277.

The duke of Guise, meanwhile, was aiming a mortal blow at the power of
the Hugonots; and had commenced the siege of Orleans, of which Andelot
was governor, and where the constable was detained prisoner. He had the
prospect of speedy success in this undertaking; when he was assassinated
by Poltrot, a young gentleman whose zeal, instigated (as is pretended,
though without any certain foundation) by the admiral, and Beza, a
famous preacher, led him to attempt that criminal enterprise. The death
of this gallant prince was a sensible loss to the Catholic party;
and though the cardinal of Lorraine, his brother, still supported the
interests of the family, the danger of their progress appeared not so
imminent either to Elizabeth or to the French Protestants. The union,
therefore, between these allies, which had been cemented by their common
fears, began thenceforth to be less intimate; and the leaders of the
Hugonots were persuaded to hearken to terms of a separate accommodation.
Condé and Montmorency held conferences for settling the peace; and as
they were both of them impatient to relieve themselves from captivity,
they soon came to an agreement with regard to the conditions. The
character of the queen regent, whose ends were always violent, but who
endeavored by subtlety and policy, rather than force, to attain
them, led her to embrace any plausible terms; and in spite of the
protestations of the admiral, whose sagacity could easily discover the
treachery of the court, the articles of agreement were finally settled
between the parties. A toleration under some restrictions was anew
granted to the Protestants; a general amnesty was published; Condé was
reinstated in his offices and governments; and after money was advanced
for the payment of arrears due to the German troops, they were dismissed
the kingdom.

By the agreement between Elizabeth and the prince of Condé, it had been
stipulated,[*] that neither party should conclude peace without the
consent of the other; but this article was at present but little
regarded by the leaders of the French Protestants. They only
comprehended her so far in the treaty, as to obtain a promise that,
on her relinquishing Havre, her charges, and the money which she had
advanced them, should be repaid her by the king of France, and that
Calais, on the expiration of the term, should be restored to her. But
she disdained to accept of these conditions; and thinking the possession
of Havre a much better pledge for effecting her purpose, she sent
Warwick orders to prepare himself against an attack from the now united
power of the French monarchy.

The earl of Warwick, who commanded a garrison of six thousand men,
besides seven hundred pioneers, had no sooner got possession of Havre,
than he employed every means for putting it in a posture of defence;[**]
and after expelling the French from the town, he encouraged his soldiers
to make the most desperate defence against the enemy. The constable
commanded the French army; the queen regent herself and the king were
present in the camp; even the prince of Condé joined the king's forces,
and gave countenance to this enterprise; the admiral and Andelot
alone, anxious still to preserve the friendship of Elizabeth, kept at
a distance, and prudently refused to join their ancient enemies in an
attack upon their allies.

* Forbes, vol. ii. p. 79.

** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 158.

From the force, and dispositions, and situation of both sides it was
expected that the siege would be attended with some memorable event; yet
did France make a much easier acquisition of this important place
than was at first apprehended. The plague crept in among the English
soldiers; and being increased by their fatigue and bad diet, (for they
were but ill supplied with provisions,[*]) it made such ravages, that
sometimes a hundred men a day died of it; and there remained not, at
last, fifteen hundred in a condition to do duty.[**] The French, meeting
with such feeble resistance, carried on their attacks successfully; and
having made two breaches, each of them sixty feet wide, they prepared
for a general assault, which must have terminated in the slaughter of
the whole garrison.[***] Warwick, who had frequently warned the English
council of the danger, and who had loudly demanded a supply of men and
provisions, found himself obliged to capitulate, and to content himself
with the liberty of withdrawing his garrison. The articles were no
sooner signed, than Lord Clinton, the admiral, who had been detained by
contrary winds, appeared off the harbor with a reënforcement of three
thousand men; and found the place surrendered to the enemy. To increase
the misfortune, the infected army brought the plague with them into
England, where it swept off great multitudes, particularly in the
city of London. Above twenty thousand persons there died of it in one
year.[****] [6]

* Forbes, vol. ii. p. 377, 498.

** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 450, 458.

*** Forbes, vol. ii. p. 498.

**** See note F, at the end of the volume.

Elizabeth, whose usual vigor and foresight had not appeared in this
transaction, was now glad to compound matters; and as the queen
regent desired to obtain leisure, in order to prepare measures for the
extermination of the Hugonots, she readily hearkened to any reasonable
terms of accommodation with England.[*]

* Davila, lib. iii.

{1564.} It was agreed, that the hostages which the French had given for
the restitution of Calais, should be restored for two hundred and twenty
thousand crowns; and that both sides should retain all their claims and
pretensions.

The peace still continued with Scotland and even a cordial friendship
seemed to have been cemented between Elizabeth and Mary. These
princesses made profession of the most entire affection; wrote amicable
letters every week to each other; and had adopted, in all appearance,
the sentiments as well as style of sisters. Elizabeth punished one
Hales, who had published a book against Mary's title;[*] and as the lord
keeper Bacon was thought to have encouraged Hales in this undertaking,
he fell under her displeasure, and it was with some difficulty he was
able to give her satisfaction, and recover her favor.[**] The two queens
had agreed in the foregoing summer to an interview at York,[***] in
order to remove all difficulties with regard to Mary's ratification
of the treaty of Edinburgh, and to consider of the proper method for
settling the succession of England; but as Elizabeth carefully avoided
touching on this delicate subject, she employed a pretence of the wars
in France, which, she said, would detain her in London; and she delayed
till next year the intended interview. It is also probable, that being
well acquainted with the beauty, and address, and accomplishments of
Mary, she did not choose to stand the comparison with regard to those
exterior qualities, in which she was eclipsed by her rival; and was
unwilling that a princess, who had already made great progress in the
esteem and affections of the English, should have a further opportunity
of increasing the number of her partisans.

* Keith, p. 252.

** Keith, p. 253.

*** Haynes, p. 388.

Mary's close connections with the house of Guise, and her devoted
attachment to her uncles, by whom she had been early educated and
constantly protected, was the ground of just and insurmountable jealousy
to Elizabeth, who regarded them as her mortal and declared enemies,
and was well acquainted with their dangerous character and ambitious
projects. They had made offer of their niece to Don Carlos, Philip's
son; to the king of Sweden, the king of Navarre, the archduke Charles,
the duke of Ferrara, the cardinal of Bourbon, who had only taken
deacon's orders, from which he might easily be freed by a dispensation;
and they were ready to marry her to any one who could strengthen their
interests, or give inquietude and disturbance to Elizabeth.[*]

* Forbes, vol. ii. p. 287. Strype, vol. i. p. 400.

Elizabeth, on her part, was equally vigilant to prevent the execution
of their schemes, and was particularly anxious lest Mary should form
any powerful foreign alliance, which might tempt her to revive her
pretensions to the crown, and to invade the kingdom on the side where it
was weakest and lay most exposed.[*] As she believed that the marriage
with the archduke Charles was the one most likely to have place, she
used every expedient to prevent it; and besides remonstrating against
it to Mary herself, she endeavored to draw off the archduke from that
pursuit, by giving him some hopes of success in his pretensions to
herself, and by inviting him to a renewal of the former treaty of
marriage.[**] She always told the queen of Scots, that nothing would
satisfy her but her espousing some English nobleman, who would remove
all grounds of jealousy, and cement the union between the kingdoms; and
she offered on this condition to have her title examined, and to declare
her successor to the crown.[***] After keeping the matter in these
general terms during a twelvemonth, she at last named Lord Robert
Dudley, now created earl of Leicester, as the person on whom she desired
that Mary's choice should fall.

[Illustration: 1-453-mary_stuart.jpg MARY STUART]

The earl of Leicester, the great and powerful favorite of Elizabeth,
possessed all those exterior qualities which are naturally alluring
to the fair sex; a handsome person, a polite address, an insinuating
behavior; and by means of these accomplishments he had been able to
blind even the penetration of Elizabeth, and conceal from her the great
defects, or rather odious vices, which attended his character. He
was proud, insolent, interested, ambitious; without honor, without
generosity, without humanity; and atoned not for these bad qualities
by such abilities or courage as could fit him for that high trust and
confidence with which she always honored him. Her constant and declared
attachment to him had naturally emboldened him to aspire to her bed; and
in order to make way for these nuptials, he was universally believed
to have murdered, in a barbarous manner, his wife, the heiress of one
Robesart. The proposal of espousing Mary was by no means agreeable to
him; and he always ascribed it to the contrivance of Cecil, his
enemy; who, he thought, intended by that artifice to make him lose the
friendship of Mary from the temerity of his pretensions, and that of
Elizabeth from jealousy of his attachments to another woman.[****]

* Keith, p 247, 284.

** Melvil, p. 41.

*** Keith, p. 213, 249, 259. 265.

**** Camden, p. 396

The queen herself had not any serious intention of effecting this
marriage, but as she was desirous that the queen of Scots should never
have any husband, she named a man who, she believed, was not likely to
be accepted of; and she hoped by that means to gain time, and elude the
project of any other alliance. The earl of Leicester was too great a
favorite to be parted with; and when Mary, allured by the prospect of
being declared successor to the crown, seemed at last to hearken
to Elizabeth's proposal, this princess receded from her offers, and
withdrew the bait which she had thrown out to her rival.[*] This
duplicity of conduct, joined to some appearance of an imperious
superiority assumed by her, had drawn a peevish letter from Mary; and
the seemingly amicable correspondence between the two queens was, during
some time, interrupted. In order to make up the breach, the queen of
Scots despatched Sir James Melvil to London; who has given us in his
memoirs a particular account of his negotiation.

Melvil was an agreeable courtier, a man of address and conversation;
and it was recommended to him by his mistress, that, besides grave
reasonings concerning politics and state affairs, he should introduce
more entertaining topics of conversation, suitable to the sprightly
character of Elizabeth, and should endeavor by that means to insinuate
himself into her confidence. He succeeded so well, that he threw that
artful princess entirely off her guard,[**] and made her discover the
bottom of her heart, full of all those levities, and follies, and ideas
of rivalship which possess the youngest and most frivolous of her sex.

* Keith, p. 269, 270. Appendix, p, 158. Strype, vol. i. p.
414.

** Haynes, p. 447.

He talked to her of his travels, and forgot not to mention the different
dresses of the ladies in different countries, and the particular
advantages of each in setting off the beauties of the shape and person.
The queen said, that she had dresses of all countries; and she took care
thenceforth to meet the ambassador every day apparelled in a different
habit: sometimes she was dressed in the English garb, sometimes in the
French, sometimes in the Italian; and she asked him which of them
became her most. He answered, the Italian; a reply that he knew would
be agreeable to her, because that mode showed to advantage her flowing
locks, which, he remarked, though they were more red than yellow, she
fancied to be the finest in the world. She desired to know of him what
was reputed the best color of hair: she asked whether his queen or she
had the finest hair: she even inquired which of them he esteemed the
fairest person; a very delicate question, and which he prudently eluded,
by saying that her majesty was the fairest person in England and his
mistress in Scotland. She next demanded which of them was tallest:
he replied, his queen. "Then is she too tall," said Elizabeth; "for I
myself am of a just stature." Having learned from him that his mistress
sometimes recreated herself by playing on the harpsichord, an instrument
on which she herself excelled, she gave orders to Lord Hunsdon, that he
should lead the ambassador, as it were casually, into an apartment where
he might hear her perform; and when Melvil, as if ravished with
the harmony, broke into the queen's apartment, she pretended to be
displeased with his intrusion; but still took care to ask him whether he
thought Mary or her the best performer on that instrument.[*] From the
whole of her behavior, Melvil thought he might, on his return, assure
his mistress, that she had no reason ever to expect any cordial
friendship from Elizabeth, and that all her professions of amity were
full of falsehood and dissimulation.

* Melvil, p, 49, 50., Keith, p 264.

After two years had been spent in evasions and artifices, Mary's
subjects and counsellors, and probably herself, began to think it full
time that some marriage were concluded; and Lord Darnley, son of the
earl of Lenox, was the person in whom most men's opinions and wishes
centred. He was Mary's cousin-german, by the lady Margaret Douglas,
niece to Henry VIII., and daughter of the earl of Angus, by Margaret,
queen of Scotland. He had been born and educated in England, where the
earl of Lenox had constantly resided, since he had been banished by the
prevailing power of the house of Hamilton; and as Darnley was now in
his twentieth year, and was a very comely person, tall and delicately
shaped, it was hoped that he might soon render himself agreeable to the
queen of Scots. He was also by his father a branch of the same family
with herself; and would, in espousing her, preserve the royal dignity
in the house of Stuart: he was, after her, next heir to the crown of
England; and those who pretended to exclude her on account of her being
a foreigner, had endeavored to recommend his title, and give it the
preference. It seemed no inconsiderable advantage, that she could,
by marrying him, unite both their claims; and as he was by birth an
Englishman, and could not by his power or alliances give any ground of
suspicion to Elizabeth, it was hoped that the proposal of this marriage
would not be unacceptable to that jealous princess.

Elizabeth was well informed of these intentions;[*] and was secretly not
displeased with the projected marriage between Darnley and the queen of
Scots.[**] She would rather have wished that Mary had continued forever
in a single life; but finding little probability of rendering this
scheme effectual, she was satisfied with a choice which freed her at
once from the dread of a foreign alliance, and from the necessity
of parting with Leicester, her favorite. In order to pave the way to
Darnley's marriage, she secretly desired Mary to invite Lenox into
Scotland, to reverse his attainder, and to restore him to his honors and
fortune.[***] And when her request was complied with, she took care,
in order to preserve the friendship of the Hamiltons and her other
partisans in Scotland, to blame openly this conduct of Mary.[****]

* Keith, p. 261.

** Keith, p. 280, 282. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 46.

*** Keith, p. 255, 259, 272.

**** Melvil, p. 42.

{1565.} Hearing that the negotiation for Darnley's marriage advanced
apace, she gave that nobleman permission, on his first application, to
follow his father into Scotland: but no sooner did she learn that
the queen of Scots was taken with his figure and person, and that all
measures were fixed for espousing him, than she exclaimed against
the marriage; sent Throgmorton to order Darnley immediately, upon his
allegiance, to return to England; threw the countess of Lenox and her
second son into the Tower, where they suffered a rigorous confinement;
seized all Lenox's English estate; and, though it was impossible for her
to assign one single reason for her displeasure,[*] she menaced, and,
protested, and complained, as if she had suffered the most grievous
injury in the world.

* Keith, p. 274, 275.

The politics of Elizabeth, though judicious, were usually full of
duplicity and artifice; but never more so than in her transactions with
the queen of Scots, where there entered so many little passions and
narrow jealousies, that she durst not avow to the world the reasons of
her conduct, scarcely to her ministers, and scarcely even to herself.
But besides a womanish rivalship and envy against the marriage of this
princess, she had some motives of interest for feigning a displeasure
on the present occasion. It served her as a pretence for refusing to
acknowledge Mary's title to the succession of England; a point to which,
for good reasons, she was determined never to consent. And it was
useful to her for a purpose still more unfriendly and dangerous, for
encouraging the discontents and rebellion of the Scottish nobility and
ecclesiastics.[*]

Nothing can be more unhappy for a people than to be governed by a
sovereign attached to a religion different from the established; and
it is scarcely possible that mutual confidence can ever, in such a
situation, have place between the prince and his subjects. Mary's
conduct had been hitherto in every respect unexceptionable, and even
laudable; yet had she not made such progress in acquiring popularity,
as might have been expected from her gracious deportment and agreeable
accomplishments. Suspicions every moment prevailed on account of her
attachment to the Catholic faith, and especially to her uncles, the open
and avowed promoters of the scheme for exterminating the professors of
the reformed religion throughout all Europe. She still refused to ratify
the acts of parliament which had established the reformation; she made
attempts for restoring to the Catholic bishops some part of their civil
jurisdiction;[**] and she wrote a letter to the council of Trent, in
which, besides professing her attachment to the Catholic faith, she took
notice of her title to succeed to the crown of England, and expressed
her hopes of being able, in some period, to bring back all her dominions
to the bosom of the church.[***] The zealots among the Protestants were
not wanting, in their turn, to exercise their insolence against her,
which tended still more to alienate her from their faith. A law was
enacted, making it capital, on the very first offence, to say mass any
where, except in the queen's chapel;[****] and it was with difficulty
that even this small indulgence was granted her: the general assembly
importuned her anew to change her religion; to renounce the blasphemous
idolatry of the mass, with the tyranny of the Roman Antichrist; and to
embrace the true religion of Christ Jesus.[v]

* Keith, p. 290.

** Spotswood, p. 198.

*** Father Paul, lib. vii.

**** Keith, p. 268.

v Keith, p, 545. Knox. p. 374.

As she answered in temper, that she was not yet convinced of the falsity
of her religion or the impiety of the mass, and that her apostasy would
lose her the friendship of her allies on the continent, they replied
by assuring her, that their religion was undoubtedly the same which had
been revealed by Jesus Christ, which had been preached by the apostles,
and which had been embraced by the faithful in the primitive ages; that
neither the religion of Turks, Jews, nor Papists was built on so solid
a foundation as theirs; that they alone, of all the various species of
religionists spread over the face of the earth, were so happy as to be
possessed of the truth; that those who hear, or rather who gaze on the
mass, allow sacrilege, pronounce blasphemy, and commit most abominable
idolatry; and that the friendship of the King of kings was preferable to
all the alliances in the world.[*]

The marriage of the queen of Scots had kindled afresh the zeal of the
reformers, because the family of Lenox was believed to adhere to the
Catholic faith; and though Darnley, who now bore the name of King Henry,
went often to the established church, he could not, by this exterior
compliance, gain the confidence and regard of the ecclesiastics. They
rather laid hold of the opportunity to insult him to his face; and Knox
scrupled not to tell him from the pulpit, that God, for punishment of
the offences and ingratitude of the people, was wont to commit the rule
over them to boys and women.[**] The populace of Edinburgh, instigated
by such doctrines, began to meet and to associate themselves against
the government.[***] But what threatened more immediate danger to
Mary's authority, were the discontents which prevailed among some of the
principal nobility.

* Keith, p. 550, 551.

** Keith, p. 546. Knox, p. 381.

*** Knox, p. 377.

The duke of Chatelrault was displeased with the restoration, and still
more with the aggrandizement of the family of Lenox, his hereditary
enemies; and entertained fears lest his own eventual succession to the
crown of Scotland should be excluded by his rival, who had formerly
advanced some pretensions to it. The earl of Murray found his credit at
court much diminished by the interest of Lenox and his son; and began
to apprehend the revocation of some considerable grants which he
had obtained from Mary's bounty. The earls of Argyle, Rothes, and
Glencairne, the lords Boyde and Ochiltry, Kirkaldy of Grange, Pittarow,
were instigated by like motives; and as these were the persons who had
most zealously promoted the reformation, they were disgusted to find
that the queen's favor was entirely engrossed by a new cabal, the earls
of Bothwell, Athole, Sutherland, and Huntley; men who were esteemed
either lukewarm in religious controversy, or inclined to the Catholic
party. The same ground of discontent which in other courts is the source
of intrigue, faction, and opposition, commonly produced in Scotland
either projects of assassination or of rebellion; and besides mutual
accusations of the former kind, which it is difficult to clear up,[*]
[7] the malecontent lords, as soon as they saw the queen's marriage
entirely resolved on, entered into a confederacy for taking arms against
their sovereign. They met at Stirling; pretended an anxious concern for
the security of religion; framed engagements for mutual defence; and
made applications to Elizabeth for assistance and protection.[**] That
princess, after publishing the expressions of her displeasure against
the marriage, had secretly ordered her ambassadors, Randolf and
Throgmorton, to give in her name some promises of support to the
malecontents; and had even sent them a supply of ten thousand pounds, to
enable them to begin an insurrection.[***]

Mary was no sooner informed of the meeting at Stirling, and the
movements of the lords, than she summoned them to appear at court, in
order to answer for their conduct; and having levied some forces to
execute the laws, she obliged the rebels to leave the low countries,
and take shelter in Argyleshire. That she might more effectually cut off
their resources, she proceeded with the king to Glasgow, and forced them
from their retreat. They appeared at Paisley, in the neighborhood,
with about a thousand horse, and passing the queen's army, proceeded to
Hamilton, thence to Edinburgh, which they entered without resistance.
They expected great reënforcements in this place, from the efforts of
Knox and the seditious preachers; and they beat their drums, desiring
all men to enlist, and receive wages for the defence of God's
glory.[****]

* See note G, at the end of the volume.

** Keith, p. 293, 294, 300, 301.

*** Knox, p. 380. Keith, Append, p. 164. Anderson, vol. iii.
p. 194.

**** Knox, p. 381.

But the nation was in no disposition for rebellion: Mary was esteemed
and beloved: her marriage was not generally disagreeable to the people:
and the interested views of the malecontent lords were so well known,
that their pretence of zeal for religion had little influence even on
the ignorant populace.[*] The king and queen advanced to Edinburgh
at the head of their army: the rebels were obliged to retire into the
south; and being pursued by a force which now amounted to eighteen
thousand men,[**] they found themselves under a necessity of abandoning
their country, and of taking shelter in England.

Elizabeth, when she found the event so much to disappoint her
expectations, thought proper to disavow all connections with the
Scottish malecontents, and to declare every where, that she had
never given them any encouragement, nor any promise of countenance or
assistance. She even carried further her dissimulation and hypocrisy.
Murray had come to London, with the abbot of Kilwinning, agent for
Chatelrault; and she seduced them, by secret assurances of protection,
to declare before the ambassadors of France and Spain that she had
nowise contributed to their insurrection. No sooner had she extorted
this confession from them, than she chased them from her presence,
called them unworthy traitors, declared that their detestable rebellion
was of bad example to all princes; and assured them, that as she had
hitherto given them no encouragement, so should they never thenceforth
receive from her any assistance or protection.[***] Throgmorton alone,
whose honor was equal to his abilities, could not be prevailed on to
conceal the part which he had acted in the enterprise of the Scottish
rebels; and being well apprised of the usual character and conduct of
Elizabeth, he had had the precaution to obtain an order of council
to authorize the engagements which he had been obliged to make with
them.[****]

* Knox, p. 380, 385.

** Knox, p. 388.

*** Melvil, p. 57. Knox, p. 388. Keith, p. 319. Crawford, p,
62, 63.

**** Melvil, p. 60.

The banished lords, finding themselves so harshly treated by Elizabeth,
had recourse to the clemency of their own sovereign; and after some
solicitation and some professions of sincere repentance, the duke of
Chatelrault obtained his pardon, on condition that he should retire into
France. Mary was more implacable against the ungrateful earl of Murray
and the other confederates, on whom she threw the chief blame of the
enterprise; but as she was continually plied with applications from
their friends, and as some of her most judicious partisans in England
thought, that nothing would more promote her interests in that kingdom,
than the gentle treatment of men so celebrated for their zeal against
the Catholic religion, she agreed to give way to her natural temper,
which inclined not to severity, and she seemed determined to restore
them to favor.[*] In this interval, Rambouillet arrived as ambassador
from France, and brought her advice from her uncle, the cardinal of
Lorraine, to whose opinion she always paid an extreme deference, by
no means to pardon these Protestant leaders, who had been engaged in a
rebellion against her.[**]

The two religions, in France, as well as in other parts of Europe, were
rather irritated than tired with their acts of mutual violence; and
the peace granted to the Hugonots, as had been foreseen by Coligny, was
intended only to lull them asleep and prepare the way for their final
and absolute destruction. The queen regent made a pretence of travelling
through the kingdom, in order to visit the provinces, and correct all
the abuses arising from the late civil war; and after having held some
conferences on the frontiers with the duke of Lorraine and the duke of
Savoy, she came to Bayonne, where she was met by her daughter, the queen
of Spain, and the duke of Alva. Nothing appeared in the congress of
these two splendid courts, but gayety, festivity, love, and joy; but
amidst these smiling appearances were secretly fabricated schemes the
most bloody, and the most destructive to the repose of mankind, that
had ever been thought of in any age or nation. No less than a total
and universal extermination of the Protestants by fire and sword was
concerted by Philip and Catharine of Medicis; and Alva, agreeably to his
fierce and sanguinary disposition, advised the queen regent to commence
the execution of this project, by the immediate massacre of all the
leaders of the Hugonots.[***]

* Melvil, p. 59, 60, 61, 62, 63. Keith, p. 322.

** Keith p. 325. Melvil, p. 63.

*** Davila, lib iii.

But that princess, though equally hardened against every humane
sentiment, would not forego this opportunity of displaying her wit
and refined politics; and she purposed rather by treachery and
dissimulation, which she called address, to lead the Protestants into
the snare, and never to draw the sword till they were totally disabled
from resistance. The cardinal of Lorraine, whose character bore a
greater affinity to that of Alva, was a chief author of this barbarous
association against the reformers; and having connected his hopes of
success with the aggrandizement of his niece, the queen of Scots, he
took care that her measures should correspond to those violent counsels
which were embraced by the other Catholic princes. In consequence of
this scheme, he turned her from the road of clemency, which she intended
to have followed, and made her resolve on the total ruin of the banished
lords.[*]

{1565.} A parliament was summoned at Edinburgh for attainting them; and
as their guilt was palpable and avowed, no doubt was entertained but
sentence would be pronounced against them. It was by a sudden and
violent incident, which, in the issue, brought on the ruin of Mary
herself, that they were saved from the rigor of the law.

The marriage of the queen of Scots with Lord Darnley was so natural,
and so inviting in all its circumstances, that it had been precipitately
agreed to by that princess and her council; and while she was allured
by his youth, and beauty, and exterior accomplishments, she had at first
overlooked the qualities of his mind, which nowise corresponded to
the excellence of his outward figure. Violent, yet variable in his
resolutions; insolent, yet credulous and easily governed by flatterers;
he was destitute of all gratitude, because he thought no favors equal to
his merit; and being addicted to low pleasures, he was equally incapable
of all true sentiments of love and tenderness.[*] The queen of Scots,
in the first effusions of her fondness, had taken a pleasure in exalting
him beyond measure; she had granted him the title of king; she had
joined his name with her own in all public acts; she intended to have
procured him from the parliament a matrimonial crown; but having leisure
afterwards to remark his weakness and vices, she began to see the danger
of her profuse liberality, and was resolved thenceforth to proceed
with more reserve in the trust which she should confer upon him. His
resentment against this prudent conduct served but the more to increase
her disgust: and the young prince, enraged at her imagined neglects,
pointed his vengeance against every one whom he deemed the cause of this
change in her measures and behavior.

* Melvil, p. 63. Keith's Append. p. 176.

There was in the court one David Rizzio, who had of late obtained a very
extraordinary degree of confidence and favor with the queen of Scots. He
was a Piedmontese, of mean birth, son of a teacher of music, himself
a musician; and finding it difficult to subsist by his art in his own
country, he had followed into Scotland an ambassador, whom the duke of
Savoy sent thither to pay his compliments to Mary, some time after her
first arrival. He possessed a good ear, and a tolerable voice; and
as that princess found him useful to complete her band of music, she
retained him in her service after the departure of his master. Her
secretary for French despatches having some time after incurred her
displeasure, she promoted Rizzio to that office, which gave him frequent
opportunities of approaching her person, and insinuating himself into
her favor. He was shrewd and sensible, as well as aspiring, much beyond
his rank and education; and he made so good use of the access which
fortune had procured him, that he was soon regarded as the chief
confidant, and even minister of the queen. He was consulted on all
occasions; no favors could be obtained but by his intercession; all
suitors were obliged to gain him by presents and flattery; and the
man, insolent from his new exaltation, as well as rapacious in his
acquisitions, soon drew on himself the hatred of the nobility and of
the whole kingdom.[*] He had at first employed his credit to promote
Darnley's marriage; and a firm friendship seemed to be established
between them; but on the subsequent change of the queen's sentiments,
it was easy for Henry's friends to persuade him that Rizzio was the real
author of her indifference, and even to rouse in his mind jealousies of
a more dangerous nature. The favorite was of a disagreeable figure, but
was not past his youth;[**] [8] and though the opinion of his criminal
correspondence with Mary might seem of itself unreasonable, if not
absurd, a suspicious husband could find no other means of accounting for
that lavish and imprudent kindness with which she honored him.

* Keith, p. 282, 302, Crawford's Memoirs, p. 5. Spotswood,
p. 193.

** See note H, at the end of the volume.

The rigid austerity of the ecclesiastics, who could admit of no
freedoms, contributed to spread this opinion among the people; and as
Rizzio was universally believed to be a pensionary of the pope's, and to
be deeply engaged in all schemes against the Protestants, any story to
his and Mary's disadvantage received an easy credit among the zealots of
that communion. Rizzio, who had connected his interests with the
Roman Catholics, was the declared enemy of the banished lords; and by
promoting the violent prosecutions against them, he had exposed himself
to the animosity of their numerous friends and retainers. A scheme
was also thought to be formed for revoking some exorbitant grants made
during the queen's minority, and even the nobility, who had seized the
ecclesiastical benefices, began to think themselves less secure in the
possession of them.[*] The earl of Morton, chancellor, was affected by
all these considerations, and still more by a rumor spread abroad, that
Mary intended to appoint Rizzio chancellor in his place, and to bestow
that dignity on a mean and upstart foreigner, ignorant of the laws and
language of the country.[**] So indiscreet had this princess been in her
kindness to Rizzio, that even that strange report met with credit, and
proved a great means of accelerating the ruin of the favorite. Morton,
insinuating himself into Henry's confidence, employed all his art to
inflame the discontent and jealousy of that prince; and he persuaded
him, that the only means of freeing himself from the indignities under
which he labored, was to bring the base stranger to the fate which he
had so well merited, and which was so passionately desired by the
whole nation. George Douglas, natural brother to the countess of Lenox,
concurred in the same advice; and the Lords Ruthven and Lindesey, being
consulted, offered their assistance in the enterprise; nor was even
the earl of Lenox, the king's father, averse to the design.[***] But
as these conspirators were well acquainted with Henry's levity, they
engaged him to sign a paper, in which he avowed the undertaking, as
tending to the glory of God and advancement of religion, and promised
to protect them against every consequence which might ensue upon the
assassination of Rizzio.[****] All these measures being concerted, a
messenger was despatched to the banished lords, who were hovering near
the borders; and they were invited by the king to return to their native
country.

* Keith, p. 326. Melvil, p. 64.

** Buchanan, lib. xvii. c. 60. Crawford, p. 6. Spotswood, p.
194. Knox, p. 393. Jebb, vol. i. p. 456.

*** Crawford, p. 7.

**** Goodall, vol. i. p. 266. Crawford, p. 7.

This design, so atrocious in itself, was rendered still more so by the
circumstances which attended its execution. Mary, who was in the sixth
month of her pregnancy, was supping in private, and had at table the
countess of Argyle, her natural sister, with Rizzio, and others of her
servants. The king entered the room by a private passage, and stood
at the back of Mary's chair: Lord Ruthven, George Douglas, and other
conspirators, being all armed, rushed in after him; and the queen of
Scots, terrified with the appearance, demanded of them the reason of
this rude intrusion. They told her, that they intended no violence
against her person; but meant only to bring that villain, pointing to
Rizzio, to his deserved punishment. Rizzio, aware of the danger, ran
behind his mistress, and seizing her by the waist, called aloud to her
for protection; while she interposed in his behalf, with cries, and
menaces, and entreaties. The impatient assassins, regardless of her
efforts, rushed upon their prey, and by overturning every thing which
stood in their way, increased the horror and confusion of the scene.
Douglas, seizing Henry's dagger, stuck it in the body of Rizzio,
who, screaming with fear and agony, was torn from Mary by the other
conspirators, and pushed into the ante-chamber, where he was despatched
with fifty-six wounds.[*]

* Melvil, p. 64. Keith, p. 330, 331. Crawford, p. 9.

The unhappy princess, informed of his fate, immediately dried her tears,
and said, she would weep no more; she would now think of revenge. The
insult, indeed, upon her person; the stain attempted to be fixed on
her honor; the danger to which her life was exposed, on account of her
pregnancy; were injuries so atrocious and so complicated, that they
scarcely left room for pardon, even from the greatest lenity and mercy.

The assassins, apprehensive of Mary's resentment, detained her prisoner
in the palace; and the king dismissed all who seemed willing to attempt
her rescue, by telling them, that nothing was done without his orders,
and that he would be careful of the queen's safety. Murray and the
banished lords appeared two days after; and Mary, whose anger was now
engrossed by injuries more recent and violent, was willingly reconciled
to them; and she even received her brother with tenderness and
affection. They obtained an acquittal from parliament, and were
reinstated in their honors and fortunes. The accomplices also in
Rizzio's murder applied to her for a pardon; but she artfully delayed
compliance, and persuaded them, that so long as she was detained in
custody, and was surrounded by guards, any deed which she should sign
would have no validity. Meanwhile she had gained the confidence of her
husband by her persuasion and caresses and no sooner were the guards
withdrawn, than she engaged him to escape with her in the night-time,
and take shelter in Dunbar. Many of her subjects here offered her their
services; and Mary, having collected an army, which the conspirators had
no power to resist, advanced to Edinburgh, and obliged them to fly
into England, where they lived in great poverty and distress. They
made applications, however, to the earl of Bothwell, a new favorite of
Mary's; and that nobleman, desirous of strengthening his party by the
accession of their interest, was able to pacify her resentment; and he
soon after procured them liberty to return into their own country.[*]

The vengeance of the queen of Scots was implacable against her husband
alone, whose person was before disagreeable to her, and who, by his
violation of every tie of gratitude and duty, had now drawn on him her
highest resentment. She engaged him to disown all connections with the
assassins, to deny any concurrence in their crime, even to publish a
proclamation containing a falsehood so notorious to the whole world;[**]
and having thus made him expose himself to universal contempt, and
rendered it impracticable for him ever to acquire the confidence of any
party, she threw him off with disdain and indignation.[***]

* Melvil, p. 75, 76. Keith, p. 334. Knox, p, 398.

** Goodall, vol. i. p. 280. Keith, Append. p. 167.

*** Melvil, p. 66, 67.

As if she had been making an escape from him, she suddenly withdrew
to Allca, a seat of the earl of Marre's; and when Henry followed her
thither, she suddenly returned to Edinburgh and give him every where the
strongest proofs of displeasure, and even of antipathy. She encouraged
her courtiers in their neglect of him; and she was pleased that his mean
equipage and small train of attendants should draw on him the contempt
of the very populace. He was permitted, however, to have apartments
in the Castle of Edinburgh, which Mary had chosen for the place of her
delivery. She there brought forth a son; and as this was very important
news to England, as well as to Scotland, she immediately despatched
Sir James Melvil to carry intelligence of the happy event to Elizabeth.
Melvil tells us, that this princess, the evening of his arrival in
London, had given a ball to her court at Greenwich, and was displaying
all that spirit and alacrity which usually attended her on these
occasions: but when news arrived of the prince of Scotland's birth, all
her joy was damped: she sunk into melancholy; she reclined her head upon
her arm; and complained to some of her attendants, that the queen of
Scots was mother of a fair son, while she herself was but a barren
stock. Next day, however, at the reception of the ambassador, she
resumed her former dissimulation, put on a joyful countenance, gave
Melvil thanks for the haste he had made in conveying to her the
agreeable intelligence, and expressed the utmost cordiality and
friendship to her sister.[*] Some time after, she despatched the earl of
Bedford, with her kinsman George Gary, son of Lord Hunsdon, in order to
officiate at the baptism of the young prince; and she sent by them some
magnificent presents to the queen of Scots.

The birth of a son gave additional zeal to Mary's partisans in
England;[**] and even men of the most opposite parties began to cry
aloud for some settlement of the succession. These humors broke out
with great vehemence in a new session of parliament, held after six
prorogations. The house of peers, which had hitherto forborne to touch
on this delicate point, here took the lead; and the house of commons
soon after imitated the zeal of the lords. Molineux opened the matter in
the lower house, and proposed, that the question of the succession
and that of supply should go hand in hand; as if it were intended
to constrain the queen to a compliance with the request of her
parliament.[***] The courtiers endeavored to elude the debate: Sir Ralph
Sadler told the house, that he had heard the queen positively affirm,
that for the good of her people she was determined to marry. Secretary
Cecil and Sir Francis Knollys gave their testimony to the same purpose;
as did also Sir Ambrose Cave, chancellor of the duchy, and Sir Edward
Rogers, comptroller of the household.[****]

* Melvil, p. 69, 70.

** Camden, p. 397.

*** D'Ewes, p. 129.

**** D'Ewes, p. 124.

Elizabeth's ambitious and masculine character was so well known, that
few members gave any credit to this intelligence; and it was considered
merely as an artifice, by which she endeavored to retract that positive
declaration which she had made in the beginning of her reign, that she
meant to live and die a virgin. The ministers, therefore, gained nothing
further by this piece of policy, than only to engage the house, for the
sake of decency, to join the question of the queen's marriage with that
of a settlement of the crown; and the commons were proceeding with great
earnestness in the debate, and had even appointed a committee to confer
with the lords, when express orders were brought them from Elizabeth not
to proceed further in the matter. Cecil told them, that she pledged to
the house the word of a queen for her sincerity in her intentions to
marry; that the appointment of a successor would be attended with great
danger to her person; that she herself had had experience, during the
reign of her sister, how much court was usually paid to the next heir,
and what dangerous sacrifices men were commonly disposed to make of
their present duty to their future prospects; and that she was therefore
determined to delay, till a more proper opportunity, the decision of
that important question.[*] The house was not satisfied with these
reasons, and still less with the command prohibiting them all debate
on the subject. Paul Wentworth, a spirited member, went so far as to
question whether such a prohibition were not an infringement of the
liberties and privileges of the house.[**] Some even ventured to violate
that profound respect which had hitherto been preserved to the queen;
and they affirmed, that she was bound in duty, not only to provide
for the happiness of her subjects during her own life, but also to
pay regard to their future security, by fixing a successor; that by an
opposite conduct she showed herself the step-mother, not the natural
parent of her people, and would seem desirous that England should no
longer subsist than she should enjoy the glory and satisfaction
of governing it; that none but timorous princes, or tyrants, or
faint-hearted women, ever stood in fear of their successors; and that
the affections of the people were a firm and impregnable rampart to
every sovereign, who, laying aside all artifice or by-ends, had courage
and magnanimity to put his sole trust in that honorable and sure
defence.[***] The queen, hearing of these debates, sent for the speaker;
and after reiterating her former prohibition, she bade him inform the
house, that if any member remained still unsatisfied, he might appear
before the privy council, and there give his reasons.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 127, 128.

** D'Ewes, p. 128.

*** Camden, p. 400.

**** D'Ewes, p. 128.

As the members showed a disposition, notwithstanding these peremptory
orders, still to proceed upon the question, Elizabeth thought proper, by
a message, to revoke them, and to allow the house liberty of debate.[*]
They were so mollified by this gracious condescension, that they
thenceforth conducted the matter with more calmness and temper, and they
even voted her a supply, to be levied at three payments, of a subsidy
and a fifteenth, without annexing any condition to it.

{1567.} The queen soon after dissolved the parliament, and told them,
with some sharpness in the conclusion, that their proceedings had
contained much dissimulation and artifice; that, under the plausible
pretences of marriage and succession, many of them covered very
malevolent intentions towards her; but that, however, she reaped this
advantage from the attempts of these men, that she could now distinguish
her friends from her enemies. "But do you think," added she, "that I am
unmindful of your future security, or will be negligent in settling the
succession? That is the chief object of my concern; as I know myself to
be liable to mortality. Or do you apprehend that I meant to encroach on
your liberties? No: it was never my meaning; I only intended to stop
you before you approached the precipice. All things have their time; and
though you maybe blessed with a sovereign more wise or more learned than
I, yet I assure you that no one will ever rule over you who shall be
more careful of your safety. And therefore, henceforward, whether I
live to see the like assembly or no, or whoever holds the reins of
government, let me warn you to beware of provoking your sovereign's
patience, so far as you have done mine. But I shall now conclude, that,
notwithstanding the disgusts I have received, (for I mean not to part
with you in anger), the greater part of you may assure themselves that
they go home in their prince's good graces."[**]

Elizabeth carried further her dignity on this occasion. She had received
the subsidy without any condition; but as it was believed that the
commons had given her that gratuity with a view of engaging her to yield
to their requests, she thought proper, on her refusal, voluntarily
to remit the third payment; and she said, that money in her subjects'
purses was as good to her as in her own exchequer.[***]

* D'Ewes, p. 130.

** D'Ewes, p. 116, 117.

*** J Camden, p. 400.

But though the queen was able to elude, for the present, the
applications of parliament, the friends of the queen of Scots multiplied
every day in England; and besides the Catholics, many of whom kept
a treasonable correspondence with her, and were ready to rise at
her command,[*] the court itself of Elizabeth was full of her avowed
partisans. The duke of Norfolk, the earls of Leicester, Pembroke,
Bedford, Northumberland, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, and most of the
considerable men in England, except Cecil, seemed convinced of the
necessity of declaring her the successor. None but the more zealous
Protestants adhered either to the countess of Hertford, or to her aunt,
Eleanor, countess of Cumberland; and as the marriage of the former
seemed liable to some objections, and had been declared invalid, men
were alarmed, even on that side, with the prospect of new disputes
concerning the succession. Mary's behavior, also, so moderate towards
the Protestants, and so gracious towards all men, had procured her
universal respect;[**] and the public was willing to ascribe any
imprudences into which she had fallen to her youth and inexperience. But
all these flattering prospects were blasted by the subsequent incidents;
where her egregious indiscretions, shall I say, or atrocious crimes,
threw her from the height of her prosperity and involved her in infamy
and in ruin.

The earl of Bothwell was of a considerable family and power in Scotland;
and though not distinguished by any talents either of a civil or
military nature, he had made a figure in that party which opposed the
greatness of the earl of Murray and the more rigid reformers. He was
a man of profligate manners; had involved his opulent fortune in great
debts, and even reduced himself to beggary by his profuse expenses;[***]
and seemed to have no resource but in desperate counsels and
enterprises.

* Haynes, p. 446, 448.

** Melvil, p. 53, 61, 74.

*** Keith, p. 240.

He had been accused more than once of an attempt to assassinate Murray;
and though the frequency of these accusations on all sides diminish
somewhat the credit due to any particular imputation, they prove
sufficiently the prevalence of that detestable practice in Scotland, and
may in that view serve to render such rumors the more credible. This man
had of late acquired the favor and entire confidence of Mary; and all
her measures were directed by his advice and authority. Reports were
spread of more particular intimacies between them; and these reports
gained ground from the continuance, or rather increase, of her hatred
towards her husband.[*] That young prince was reduced to such a state
of desperation by the neglects which he underwent from his queen and
the courtiers, that he had once resolved to fly secretly into France or
Spain, and had even provided a vessel for that purpose.[**] Some of
the most considerable nobility, on the other hand, observing her rooted
aversion to him, had proposed some expedients for a divorce, and though
Mary is said to have spoken honorably on the occasion, and to have
embraced the proposal no further than it should be found consistent
with her own honor and her son's legitimacy,[***] men were inclined to
believe, that the difficulty of finding proper means for effecting that
purpose, was the real cause of laying aside all further thoughts of
it. So far were the suspicions against her carried, that when Henry,
discouraged with the continual proofs of her hatred, left the court and
retired to Glasgow, an illness of an extraordinary nature, with which
he was seized immediately on his arrival in that place, was universally
ascribed by her enemies to a dose of poison, which, it was pretended,
she had administered to him.

* Melvil, p. 66, 77.

** Keith, p. 345-348.

*** Camden, p. 404. Goodall's Queen Mary, vol. ii. p. 317.

While affairs were in this situation, all those who wished well to
her character, or to public tranquillity, were extremely pleased, and
somewhat surprised, to hear that a friendship was again conciliated
between them, that she had taken a journey to Glasgow on purpose to
visit him during his sickness, that she behaved towards him with great
tenderness, that she had brought him along with her, and that she
appeared thenceforth determined to live with him on a footing more
suitable to the connections between them. Henry, naturally uxorious, and
not distrusting this sudden reconciliation, put himself implicitly into
her hands, and attended her to Edinburgh. She lived in the palace of
Holyrood House; but as the situation of the palace was low, and the
concourse of people about the court was necessarily attended with noise,
which might disturb him in his present infirm state of health, these
reasons were assigned for fitting up an apartment for him in a solitary
house at some distance, called the Kirk of Field. Mary here gave him
marks of kindness and attachment; she conversed cordially with him; and
she lay some nights in a room below his; but on the ninth of February,
she told him that she would pass that night in the palace, because
the marriage of one of her servants was there to be celebrated in her
presence. About two o'clock in the morning, the whole town was much
alarmed at hearing a great noise; and was still more astonished, when
it was discovered that the noise came from the king's house, which was
blown up by gunpowder; that his dead body was found at some distance in
a neighboring field; and that no marks, either of fire, contusion, or
violence appeared upon it.[*]

No doubt could be entertained but Henry was murdered; and general
conjecture soon pointed towards the earl of Bothwell as the author of
the crime.[**] But as his favor with Mary was visible, and his power
great, no one ventured to declare openly his sentiments; and all men
remained in silence and mute astonishment. Voices, however, were heard
in the streets, during the darkness of the night, proclaiming Bothwell,
and even Mary herself, to be murderers of the king; bills were secretly
affixed on the walls to the same purpose; offers were made, that, upon
giving proper securities, his guilt should be openly proved; but after
one proclamation from the court, offering a reward and indemnity to any
one that would discover the author of that villany, greater vigilance
was employed in searching out the spreaders of the libels and reports
against Bothwell and the queen, than in tracing the contrivers of the
king's assassination, or detecting the regicides.[***]

The earl of Lenox, who lived at a distance from court in poverty and
contempt, was roused by the report of his son's murder, and wrote to
the queen, imploring speedy justice against the assassins; among whom he
named the earl of Bothwell, Sir James Balfour, and Gilbert Balfour his
brother, David Chalmers, and four others of the queen's household; all
of them persons who had been mentioned in the bills affixed to the walls
at Edinburgh.[****]

* It was imagined that Henry had been strangled before the
house was blown up. But this supposition is contradicted by
the confession of the criminals; and there is no necessity
to admit it in order to account for the condition of his
body. There are many instances that men's lives have been
saved who had been blown up in ships. Had Henry fallen on
water, he had not probably been killed.

** Melvil, p. 78. Cabbala, p. 136.

*** Anderson's Collections, vol. ii. p. 38; vol. iv. p. 167,
168. Spotswood, p. 200. Keith, p. 374.

**** Keith, p. 372. Anderson, vol. ii. p. 3.

[Illustration: 1-467-mary_stuart.jpg MARY STUART]

Mary took his demand of speedy justice in a very literal sense, and
allowing only fifteen days for the examination of this important affair,
she sent a citation to Lenox, requiring him to appear in court, and
prove his charge against Bothwell.[*] This nobleman, meanwhile, and
all the other persons accused by Lenox, enjoyed their full liberty;[**]
Bothwell himself was continually surrounded with armed men; [***] took
his place in council;[****] lived during some time in the house with
Mary;[v] and seemed to possess all his wonted confidence and familiarity
with her. Even the Castle of Edinburgh, a place of great consequence
in this critical time, was intrusted to him, and under him, to his
creature, Sir James Balfour, who had himself been publicly charged as
an accomplice in the king's murder.[v*] Lenox, who had come as far as
Stirling with a view of appearing at the trial, was informed of all
these circumstances; and reflecting on the small train which attended
him, he began to entertain very just apprehensions from the power,
insolence, and temerity of his enemy. He wrote to Mary, desiring that
the day of trial might be prorogued; and conjured her, by all the regard
which she bore to her own honor, to employ more leisure and deliberation
in determining a question of such extreme moment.[v**] No regard was
paid to his application: the jury was enclosed, of which the earl
of Caithness was chancellor; and though Lenox, foreseeing this
precipitation, had ordered Cunningham, one of his retinue, to appear in
court, and protest in his name against the acquittal of the criminal,
the jury proceeded to a verdict.[v***] The verdict was such as it
behoved them to give, where neither accuser nor witness appeared;
and Bothwell was absolved from the king's murder. The jury, however,
apprehensive that their verdict would give great scandal, and perhaps
expose them afterwards to some danger, entered a protest, in which they
represented the necessity of their proceedings.[v****]

* Keith, p. 373.

** Keith, p. 374, 375.

*** Keith, p. 405.

**** Anderson, vol. i. p. 38, 40, 50, 52.

v Anderson, vol. ii. p. 274.

v* Spotswood, p. 201.

v** Keith, p. 375. Anderson, vol. i. p. 52.

v*** Keith, p. 376. Anderson, vol. ii. p. 106. Spotswood, p.
201.

v**** Spotswood, p. 201. Anderson, vol. i p. 113.

It is remarkable, that the indictment was laid against Bothwell for
committing the crime on the ninth of February, not the tenth, the real
day on which Henry was assassinated.[*] The interpretation generally
put upon this error, too gross, it was thought, to have proceeded from
mistake, was, that the secret council by whom Mary was governed,
not trusting entirely to precipitation, violence, and authority,
had provided this plea, by which they insured, at all adventures, a
plausible pretence for acquitting Bothwell.

Two days after this extraordinary transaction, a parliament was held;
and though the verdict in favor of Bothwell was attended with such
circumstances as strongly confirmed, rather than diminished, the general
opinion of his guilt, he was the person chosen to carry the royal
sceptre on the first meeting of that national assembly.[**] In this
parliament a rigorous act was made against those who set up defamatory
bills; but no notice was taken of the king's murder.[***] The favor
which Mary openly bore to Bothwell kept every one in awe; and the
effects of this terror appeared more plainly in another transaction,
which ensued immediately upon the dissolution of the parliament. A bond
or association was framed; in which the subscribers, after relating the
acquittal of Bothwell by a legal trial, and mentioning a further offer
which he had made, to prove his innocence by single combat, oblige
themselves, in case any person should afterwards impute to him the
king's murder, to defend him with their whole power against such
calumniators. After this promise, which implied no great assurance in
Bothwell of his own innocence, the subscribers mentioned the necessity
of their queen's marriage, in order to support the government; and
they recommended Bothwell to her as a husband.[****] This paper was
subscribed by all the considerable nobility there present. In a
country divided by violent factions, such a concurrence in favor of one
nobleman, nowise distinguished above the rest, except by his flagitious
conduct, could never have been obtained, had not every one been certain,
at least firmly persuaded, that Mary was fully determined on this
measure.[v] [9] Nor would such a motive have sufficed to influence
men, commonly so stubborn and untractable, had they not been taken by
surprise, been ignorant of each other's sentiments, and overawed by the
present power of the court, and by the apprehensions of further violence
from persons so little governed by any principles of honor and humanity.
Even with all these circumstances, the subscription to this paper may
justly be regarded as a reproach to the nation.

* Keith, p. 375. Anderson, vol. ii. p. 93. Spotswood, p.
201.

** Keith, p. 78. Crawford, p. 14.

*** Keith, p. 389.

**** Keith, p. 381.

v See note I, at the end of the volume.

The subsequent measures of Bothwell were equally precipitate and
audacious. Mary having gone to Stirling to pay a visit to her son, he
assembled a body of eight hundred horse, on pretence of pursuing some
robbers on the borders; and having waylaid her on her return, he seized
her person near Edinburgh, and carried her to Dunbar, with an avowed
design of forcing her to yield to his purpose. Sir James Melvil, one of
her retinue, was carried along with her, and says not that he saw any
signs of reluctance or constraint; he was even informed, as he tells
us, by Bothwell's officers, that the whole transaction was managed in
concert with her.[*] A woman, indeed, of that spirit and resolution
which is acknowledged to belong to Mary, does not usually, on these
occasions, give such marks of opposition to real violence as can appear
any wise doubtful or ambiguous. Some of the nobility, however, in order
to put matters to further trial, sent her a private message, in which
they told her, that if in reality she lay under force, they would use
all their efforts to rescue her. Her answer was, that she had indeed
been carried to Dunbar by violence, but ever since her arrival had been
so well treated that she willingly remained with Bothwell.[**] No one
gave himself thenceforth any concern to relieve her from a captivity
which was believed to proceed entirely from her own approbation and
connivance.

This unusual conduct was at first ascribed to Mary's sense of the infamy
attending her purposed marriage, and her desire of finding some color
to gloss over the irregularity of her conduct. But a pardon, given
to Bothwell a few days after, made the public carry their conjectures
somewhat further. In this deed, Bothwell received a pardon for the
violence committed on the queen's person, and for "all other crimes;" a
clause by which the murder of the king was indirectly forgiven. The rape
was then conjectured to have been only a contrivance, in order to afford
a pretence for indirectly remitting a crime, of which it would have
appeared scandalous to make openly any mention.[***]

* Melvil, p. 80.

** Spotswood, p. 202.

*** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 61.

These events passed with such rapidity, that men had no leisure to
admire sufficiently one incident, when they were surprised with a
new one equally rare and uncommon. There still, however, remained one
difficulty which it was not easy to foresee how the queen and Bothwell,
determined as they were to execute their shameful purpose, could find
expedients to overcome. The man who had procured the subscription of the
nobility, recommending him as a husband to the queen, and who had acted
this seeming violence on her person, in order to force her consent, had
been married two years before to another woman; to a woman of merit, of
a noble family, sister to the earl of Huntley. But persons blinded by
passion, and infatuated with crime, soon shake off all appearance of
decency. A suit was commenced for a divorce between Bothwell and his
wife; and this suit was opened at the same instant in two different, or
rather opposite courts; in the court of the archbishop of St. Andrew's,
which was Popish, and governed itself by the canon law; and in the
new consistorial or commissariot court, which was Protestant, and was
regulated by the principles of the reformed teachers. The plea advanced
in each court was so calculated as to suit the principles which there
prevailed; in the archbishop's court, the pretence of consanguinity was
employed, because Bothwell was related to his wife in the fourth degree;
in the commissariot court, the accusation of adultery was made use
of against him. The parties, too, who applied for the divorce, were
different in the different courts: Bothwell was the person who sued
in the former; his wife in the latter. And the suit in both courts was
opened, pleaded, examined, and decided, with the utmost precipitation;
and a sentence of divorce was pronounced in four days.[*]

* Anderson, vol. ii. p. 280.

The divorce being thus obtained, it was thought proper that Mary should
be conducted to Edinburgh, and should there appear before the courts of
judicature, and should acknowledge herself restored to entire freedom.
This was understood to be contrived in a view of obviating all doubts
with regard to the validity of her marriage. Orders were then given
to publish in the church the banns between the queen and the duke of
Orkney; for that was the title which he now bore; and Craig, a minister
of Edinburgh, was applied to for that purpose. This clergyman, not
content with having refused compliance, publicly in his sermons
condemned the marriage, and exhorted all who had access to the queen,
to give her their advice against so scandalous an alliance. Being called
before the council to answer for this liberty, he showed a courage which
might cover all the nobles with shame, on account of their tameness
and servility. He said that, by the rules of the church, the earl of
Bothwell, being convicted of adultery, could not be permitted to marry;
that the divorce between him and his former wife was plainly procured
by collusion, as appeared by the precipitation of the sentence, and
the sudden conclusion of his marriage with the queen; and that all the
suspicions which prevailed with regard to the king's murder, and the
queen's concurrence in the former rape, would thence receive undoubted
confirmation. He therefore exhorted Bothwell, who was present, no
longer to persevere in his present criminal enterprises; and turning his
discourse to the other counsellors, he charged them to employ all their
influence with the queen, in order to divert her from a measure which
would load her with eternal infamy and dishonor. Not satisfied even with
this admonition, he took the first opportunity of informing the public,
from the pulpit, of the whole transaction; and expressed to them his
fears that, notwithstanding all remonstrances, their sovereign was still
obstinately bent on her fatal purpose. "For himself," he said, "he had
already discharged his conscience; and yet again would take heaven
and earth to witness that he abhorred and detested that marriage as
scandalous and hateful in the sight of mankind; but since the great, as
he perceived, either by their flattery or silence, gave countenance to
the measure, he besought the faithful to pray fervently to the
Almighty that a resolution, taken contrary to all law, reason, and good
conscience, might, by the divine blessing, be turned to the comfort and
benefit of the church and kingdom." These speeches offended the court
extremely; and Craig was anew summoned before the council, to answer for
his temerity in thus passing the bounds of his commission. But he told
them, that the bounds of his commission were the word of God, good laws,
and natural reason; and were the Queen's marriage tried by any of these
standards, it would appear infamous and dishonorable, and would so be
esteemed by the whole world. The council were so overawed by this heroic
behavior in a private clergyman, that they dismissed him without further
censure or punishment.[*]

* Spotswood, p. 203. Anderson, vol. ii. p. 280.

But though this transaction might have recalled Bothwell and the queen
of Scots from their infatuation, and might have instructed them in the
dispositions of the people, as well as in their own inability to oppose
them, they were still resolute to rush forward to their own manifest
destruction. The marriage was solemnized by the bishop of Orkney, a
Protestant, who was afterwards deposed by the church for this scandalous
compliance. Few of the nobility appeared at the ceremony: they had most
of them, either from shame or fear, retired to their own houses. The
French ambassador, Le Croc, an aged gentleman of honor and character,
could not be prevailed on, though a dependent of the house of Guise, to
countenance the marriage by his presence.[*] Elizabeth remonstrated, by
friendly letters and messages, against the marriage.[**] The court of
France made like opposition; but Mary, though on all other occasions she
was extremely obsequious to the advice of her relations in that country,
was here determined to pay no regard to their opinion.

The news of these transactions, being carried to foreign countries,
filled Europe with amazement, and threw infamy, not only on the
principal actors in them, but also on the whole nation, who seemed, by
their submission and silence, and even by their declared approbation,
to give their sanction to these scandalous practices.[***] The Scots who
resided abroad met with such reproaches, that they durst nowhere appear
in public; and they earnestly exhorted their countrymen at home to
free them from the public odium, by bringing to condign punishment the
authors of such atrocious crimes. This intelligence, with a little more
leisure for reflection, roused men from their lethargy; and the rumors
which, from the very beginning,[****] had been spread against Mary, as
if she had concurred in the king's murder, seemed now, by the subsequent
transactions, to have received a strong confirmation and authority.

* Spotswood, p. 203. Melvil, p. 82.

** Keith, p. 392.

*** Digges, p. 14.

**** Melvil, p. 82. Keith, p. 402. Anderson, voL i. p. 128,
134, Crawford, p. 11. Keith, Pref. p. 9.

It was every where said, that even though no particular and direct
proofs had as yet been produced of the queen's guilt, the whole tenor
of her late conduct was sufficient, not only to beget suspicion, but
to produce entire conviction against her: that her sudden resolution
of being reconciled to her husband, whom before she had long and justly
hated; her bringing him to court, from which she had banished him by
neglects and rigors; her fitting up separate apartments for him; were
all of them circumstances which, though trivial in themselves, yet,
being compared with the subsequent events, bore a very unfavorable
aspect for her: that the least which, after the king's murder, might
have been expected in her situation, was a more than usual caution in
her measures, and an extreme anxiety to punish the real assassins, in
order to free herself from all reproach and suspicion: that no woman who
had any regard to her character, would allow a man, publicly accused of
her husband's murder, so much as to approach her presence, far less give
him a share in her councils, and endow him with favor and authority that
an acquittal, merely in the absence of accusers, was very ill fitted to
satisfy the public; especially if that absence proceeded from a designed
precipitation of the sentence, and from the terror which her known
friendship for the criminal had infused into every one: that the very
mention of her marriage to such a person, in such circumstances, was
horrible; and the contrivances of extorting a consent from the nobility,
and of concerting a rape, were gross artifices, more proper to discover
her guilt than prove her innocence: that where a woman thus shows a
consciousness of merited reproach, and instead of correcting, provides
only thin glosses to cover her exceptionable conduct, she betrays a
neglect of fame, which must either be the effect or the cause of the
most shameful enormities: that to espouse a man who had, a few days
before, been so scandalously divorced from his wife, who, to say
the least, was believed to have a few months before assassinated her
husband, was so contrary to the plainest rules of behavior, that no
pretence of indiscretion or imprudence could account for such a conduct:
that a woman who, so soon after her husband's death, though not attended
with any extraordinary circumstances, contracts a marriage which might
in itself be the most blameless, cannot escape severe censure; but one
who overlooks for her pleasure so many other weighty considerations, was
equally capable, in gratifying her appetites, to neglect every regard to
honor and humanity: that Mary was not ignorant of the prevailing opinion
of the public with regard to her own guilt, and of the inferences which
would every where be drawn from her conduct; and therefore, if she still
continued to pursue measures which gave such just offence, she ratified
by her actions, as much as she could by the most formal confession,
all the surmises and imputations of her enemies: that a prince was here
murdered in the face of the world; Bothwell alone was suspected and
accused; if he were innocent, nothing could absolve him, either in
Mary's eyes or those of the public, but the detection and conviction
of the real assassin: yet no inquiry was made to that purpose, though a
parliament had been assembled; the sovereign and wife was here plainly
silent from guilt, the people from terror: that the only circumstance
which opposed all these presumptions, or rather proofs, was the
benignity and goodness of her preceding behavior, which seemed to remove
her from all suspicions of such atrocious inhumanity; but that the
characters of men were extremely variable, and persons guilty of the
worst actions were not always naturally of the worst and most criminal
dispositions; that a woman who, in a critical and dangerous moment, had
sacrificed her honor to a man of abandoned principles, might thenceforth
be led blindfold by him to the commission of the most enormous crimes,
and was in reality no longer at her own disposal: and that, though
one supposition was still left to alleviate her blame; namely, that
Bothwell, presuming on her affection towards him, had of himself
committed the crime, and had never communicated it to her; yet such a
sudden and passionate love to a man whom she had long known, could not
easily be accounted for, without supposing some degree of preceding
guilt; and as it appeared that she was not afterwards restrained, either
by shame or prudence, from incurring the highest reproach and danger,
it was not likely that a sense of duty or humanity would have a more
powerful influence over her.

These were the sentiments which prevailed throughout Scotland: and as
the Protestant teachers, who had great authority, had long borne an
animosity to Mary, the opinion of her guilt was by that means the more
widely diffused, and made the deeper impression on the people. Some
attempts made by Bothwell, and, as is pretended, with her consent, to
get the young prince into his power, excited the most serious attention;
and the principal nobility, even many of those who had formerly been
constrained to sign the application in favor of Bothwells marriage, met
at Stirling, and formed an association for protecting the prince, and
punishing the king's murderers.[*]

* Keith, p. 394.

The earl of Athole himself, a known Catholic, was the first author of
this confederacy, the earls of Argyle, Morton, Marre, Glencairne, the
lords Boyd, Lindesey, Hume, Semple, Kirkaldy of Grange, Tulibardine,
and Secretary Lidington, entered zealously into it. The earl of Murray,
foreseeing such turbulent times, and being desirous to keep free of
these dangerous factions, had some time before desired and obtained
Mary's permission to retire into France.

Lord Hume was first in arms; and leading a body of eight hundred horse,
suddenly environed the queen of Scots and Bothwell, in the Castle of
Borthwick. They found means of making their escape to Dunbar; while the
confederate lords were assembling their troops at Edinburgh, and taking
measures to effect their purpose. Had Bothwell been so prudent as to
keep within the fortress of Dunbar, his enemies must have dispersed for
want of pay and subsistence; but hearing that the associated lords were
fallen into distress, he was so rash as to take the field, and advance
towards them. The armies met at Carberry Hill, about six miles from
Edinburgh; and Mary soon became sensible that her own troops disapproved
of her cause, and were averse to spill their blood in the quarrel.[*]
After some bravadoes of Bothwell, where he discovered very little
courage, she saw no resource but that of holding a conference with
Kirkaldy of Grange, and of putting herself, upon some general promises,
into the hands of the confederates. She was conducted to Edinburgh,
amidst the insults of the populace; who reproached her with her crimes,
and even held before her eyes, which way soever she turned, a banner,
on which were painted the murder of her husband and the distress of her
infant son.[**] Mary, overwhelmed with her calamities, had recourse to
tears and lamentations. Meanwhile Bothwell, during her conference with
Grange, fled unattended to Dunbar; and fitting out a few small ships,
set sail for the Orkneys, where he subsisted during some time by piracy.
He was pursued thither by Grange, and his ship was taken, with several
of his servants; who afterwards discovered all the circumstances of the
king's murder, and were punished for the crime.[***] Bothwell himself
escaped in a boat, and found means to get a passage to Denmark, where
he was thrown into prison, lost his senses, and died miserably about ten
years after; an end worthy of his flagitious conduct and behavior.

* Keith, p. 402. Spotswood, p. 207.

** Melvil, p. 83, 84.

*** Anderson, vol. ii. p. 165, 166, etc.

The queen of Scots, now in the hands of an enraged faction met with such
treatment as a sovereign may naturally expect from subjects, who have
their future security to provide for, as well as their present animosity
to gratify. It is pretended that she behaved with a spirit very
little suitable to her condition, avowed her inviolable attachment to
Bothwell,[*] and even wrote him a letter, which the lords intercepted,
wherein she declared, that she would endure any extremity, nay, resign
her dignity and crown itself, rather than relinquish his affections.[**]
The malecontents, finding the danger to which they were exposed in case
Mary should finally prevail, thought themselves obliged to proceed
with rigor against her; and they sent her next day under a guard to the
Castle of Lochlevin, situated in a lake of that name. The mistress of
the house was mother to the earl of Murray; and as she pretended to have
been lawfully married to the late king of Scots, she naturally bore
an animosity to Mary, and treated her with the utmost harshness and
severity.

* Keith, p. 419.

** Melvil, p. 84.

Elizabeth, who was fully informed of all those incidents, seemed touched
with compassion towards the unfortunate queen; and all her fears and
jealousies being now laid asleep, by the consideration of that ruin and
infamy in which Mary's conduct had involved her, she began to reflect
on the instability of human affairs, the precarious state of royal
grandeur, the danger of encouraging rebellious subjects; and she
resolved to employ her authority for alleviating the calamities of
her unhappy kinswoman. She sent Sir Nicholas Throgmorton ambassador
to Scotland, in order to remonstrate both with Mary and the associated
lords; and she gave him instructions, which, though mixed with some
lofty pretensions, were full of that good sense which was so natural to
her, and of that generosity which the present interesting conjuncture
had called forth. She empowered him to declare[*] in her name to Mary,
that the late conduct of that princess, so enormous, and in every
respect so unjustifiable, had given her the highest offence; and though
she felt the movements of pity towards her, she had once determined
never to interpose in her affairs, either by advice or assistance,
but to abandon her entirely, as a person whose condition was totally
desperate, and honor irretrievable.

* The reality of this letter appears somewhat disputable;
chiefly because Murray and his associates never mentioned it
in their accusation of her before Queen Elizabeth's
commissioners.

That she was well assured that other foreign princes, Mary's near
relations, had embraced the same resolution; but, for her part, the late
events had touched her heart with more tender sympathy, and had made
her adopt measures more favorable to the liberty and interests of the
unhappy queen: that she was determined not to see her oppressed by her
rebellious subjects, but would employ all her good offices, and even her
power, to redeem her from captivity, and place her in such a condition
as would at once be compatible with her dignity and the safety of her
subjects: that she conjured her to lay aside all thoughts of revenge,
except against the murderers of her husband; and as she herself was
his near relation, she was better entitled than the subjects of Mary to
interpose her authority on that head; and she therefore besought that
princess, if she had any regard to her own honor and safety, not to
oppose so just and reasonable a demand: that after those two points
were provided for, her own liberty and the punishment of her husband's
assassins, the safety of her infant son was next to be considered; and
there seemed no expedient more proper for that purpose, than sending him
to be educated in England: and that, besides the security which would
attend his removal from a scene of faction and convulsions, there were
many other beneficial consequences, which it was easy to foresee as the
result of his education in that country.[*]

* Keith, p. 411, 412, etc

The remonstrances which Throgmorton was instructed to make to the
associated lords, were entirely conformable to these sentiments which
Elizabeth entertained in Mary's favor. She empowered him to tell them,
that whatever blame she might throw on Mary's conduct, any opposition
to their sovereign was totally unjustifiable, and incompatible with all
order and good government: that it belonged not to them to reform, much
less to punish, the maleadministration of their prince; and the only
arms which subjects could in any case lawfully employ against the
supreme authority, were entreaties, counsels, and representations: that
if these expedients failed, they were next to appeal by their prayers to
Heaven, and to wait with patience till the Almighty, in whose hands are
the hearts of princes, should be pleased to turn them to justice and
to mercy. That she inculcated not this doctrine because she herself was
interested in its observance, but because it was universally received in
all well-governed states, and was essential to the preservation of civil
society: that she required them to restore their queen to liberty; and
promised, in that case, to concur with them in all proper expedients for
regulating the government, for punishing the king's murderers, and for
guarding the life and liberty of the infant prince: and that, if
the services which she had lately rendered the Scottish nation, in
protecting them from foreign usurpation, were duly considered by them,
they would repose confidence in her good offices, and would esteem
themselves blameworthy in having hitherto made no application to her.[*]

Elizabeth, besides these remonstrances, sent by Throgmorton some
articles of accommodation, which he was to propose to both parties,
as expedients for the settlement of public affairs; and though these
articles contained some important restraints on the sovereign power,
they were in the main calculated for Mary's advantage, and were
sufficiently indulgent to her.[**] The associated lords, who determined
to proceed with greater severity, were apprehensive of Elizabeth's
partiality; and being sensible that Mary would take courage from the
protection of that powerful princess,[***] they thought proper, after
several affected delays, to refuse the English ambassador all access
to her. There were four different schemes proposed in Scotland for the
treatment of the captive queen: one, that she should be restored to her
authority under very strict limitations: the second, that she should be
obliged to resign her crown to the prince, be banished the kingdom,
and be confined either to France or England; with assurances from the
sovereign in whose dominions she should reside, that she should make no
attempts to the disturbance of the established government: the third,
that she should be publicly tried for her crimes, of which her enemies
pretended to have undoubted proof, and be sentenced to perpetual
imprisonment: the fourth was still more severe, and required that, after
her trial and condemnation, capital punishment should be inflicted upon
her.[****] Throgmorton supported the mildest proposal; but though
he promised his mistress's guaranty for the performance of articles,
threatened the ruling party with immediate vengeance in case of
refusal,[v] and warned them not to draw on themselves, by their
violence, the public reproach which now lay upon their queen, he found
that, excepting Secretary Lidington, he had not the good fortune to
convince any of the leaders.

* Keith, p. 414, 415, 429.

** Keith, p. 416.

*** Keith, p. 427.

**** Keith, p. 420.

v Keith, p. 428.

All counsels seemed to tend towards the more severe expedients; and
the preachers, in particular, drawing their examples from the rigorous
maxims of the Old Testament, which can only be warranted by particular
revelations, inflamed the minds of the people against their unhappy
sovereign.[*]

There were several pretenders to the regency of the young prince
after the intended deposition of Mary. The earl of Lenox claimed that
authority as grandfather to the prince: the duke of Chatelrault, who
was absent in France, had pretensions as next heir to the crown: but the
greatest number of the associated lords inclined to the earl of
Murray, in whose capacity they had entire trust, and who possessed the
confidence of the preachers and more zealous reformers. All measures
being therefore concerted, three instruments were sent to Mary, by the
hands of Lord Lindesey and Sir Robert Melvil; by one of which she was
to resign the crown in favor of her son, by another to appoint Murray
regent, by the third to name a council, which should administer the
government till his arrival in Scotland. The queen of Scots, seeing no
prospect of relief, lying justly under apprehensions for her life, and
believing that no deed which she executed during her captivity could be
valid, was prevailed on, after a plentiful effusion of tears, to sign
these three instruments; and she took not the trouble of inspecting any
one of them.[**] In consequence of this forced resignation, the young
prince was proclaimed king, by the name of James VI. He was soon
after crowned at Stirling, and the earl of Morton took in his name
the coronation oath; in which a promise to extirpate heresy was not
forgotten. Some republican pretensions, in favor of the people's power,
were countenanced in this ceremony;[***] and a coin was soon after
struck, on which the famous saying of Trajan was inscribed, Pro me; si
merear, in me; "For me; if I deserve it, against me."[****] Throgmorton
had orders from his mistress not to assist at the coronation of the king
of Scots.[v]

* Keith, p. 422, 426.

** Melvil, p. 85. Spotswood, p. 211. Anderson, vol. iii. p.
19.

*** Keith, p. 439, 440.

**** Keith, p. 440. Append, p. 150.

v Keith, p. 430

The council of regency had not long occasion to exercise their
authority. The earl of Murray arrived from France, and took possession
of his high office. He paid a visit to the captive queen, and spoke to
her in a manner which better suited her past conduct than her present
condition. This harsh treatment quite extinguished in her breast any
remains of affection towards him.[*] Murray proceeded afterwards to
break, in a more public manner, all terms of decency with her. He
summoned a parliament; and that assembly, after voting that she was
undoubtedly an accomplice in her husband's murder, condemned her to
imprisonment, ratified her demission of the crown, and acknowledged her
son for king, and Murray for regent.[**] The regent, a man of vigor and
abilities, employed himself successfully in reducing the kingdom.
He bribed Sir James Balfour to surrender the Castle of Edinburgh:
he constrained the garrison of Dunbar to open their gates; and he
demolished that fortress.

But though every thing thus bore a favorable aspect to the new
government, and all men seemed to acquiesce in Murray's authority, a
violent revolution, however necessary, can never be effected without
great discontents; and it was not likely that, in a country where the
government, in its most settled state, possessed a very disjointed
authority, a new establishment should meet with no interruption or
disturbance. Few considerable men of the nation seemed willing to
support Mary, so long as Bothwell was present; but the removal of that
obnoxious nobleman had altered the sentiments of many. The duke of
Chatelrault, being disappointed of the regency, bore no good will
to Murray; and the same sentiments were embraced by all his numerous
retainers. Several of the nobility, finding that others had taken the
lead among the associators, formed a faction apart, and opposed the
prevailing power; and besides their being moved by some remains of duty
and affection towards Mary, the malecontent lords, observing every thing
carried to extremity against her, were naturally led to embrace her
cause, and shelter themselves under her authority. All who retained any
propensity to the Catholic religion were induced to join this party;
and even the people in general, though they had formerly either
detested Mary's crimes or blamed her imprudence, were now inclined
to compassionate her present situation, and lamented that a person
possessed of so many amiable accomplishments, joined to such high
dignity, should be treated with such extreme severity.[***]

* Melvil, p. 87. Keith, p. 445.

** Anderson, vol. ii. p. 206, et seq.

*** Buchanan, lib. xviii. c. 53.

Animated by all these motives, many of the principal nobility now
adherents to the queen of Scots, met at Hamilton, and concerted measures
for supporting the cause of that princess.

{1568.} While these humors were in fermentation, Mary was employed in
contrivances for effecting her escape; and she engaged, by her charms
and caresses, a young gentleman, George Douglas, brother to the laird of
Lochlevin, to assist her in that enterprise. She even went so far as to
give him hopes of espousing her, after her marriage with Bothwell should
be dissolved on the plea of force; and she proposed this expedient
to the regent, who rejected it. Douglas, however, persevered in his
endeavors to free her from captivity; and having all opportunities of
access to the house, he was at last successful in the undertaking.
He conveyed her in disguise into a small boat, and himself rowed her
ashore. She hastened to Hamilton; and the news of her arrival in that
place being immediately spread abroad, many of the nobility flocked to
her with their forces. A bond of association for her defence was signed
by the earls of Argyle, Huntley, Eglington, Crawford, Cassilis, Rothes,
Montrose, Sutherland, Erroi, nine bishops, and nine barons, besides many
of the most considerable gentry.[*] And in a few days, an army, to the
number of six thousand men, was assembled under her standard.

Elizabeth was no sooner informed of Mary's escape, than she discovered
her resolution of persevering in the same generous and friendly measures
which she had hitherto pursued. If she had not employed force against
the regent during the imprisonment of that princess, she had been
chiefly withheld by the fear of pushing him to greater extremities
against her;[**] but she had proposed to the court of France an
expedient, which, though less violent, would have been no less effectual
for her service: she desired that France and England should by concert
cut off all commerce with the Scots, till they should do justice to
their injured sovereign.[***]

* Keith, p. 475.

** Keith, p. 463. Cabala, p. 141.

*** Keith, p. 462.

She now despatched Leighton into Scotland to offer both her good
offices, and the assistance of her forces, to Mary; but as she
apprehended the entrance of French troops into the kingdom, she desired
that the controversy between the queen of Scots and her subjects might
by that princess be referred entirely to her arbitration, and that no
foreign succors should be introduced into Scotland.[*]

But Elizabeth had not leisure to exert fully her efforts in favor of
Mary. The regent made haste to assemble forces; and notwithstanding that
his army was inferior in number to that of the queen of Scots, he took
the field against her. A battle was fought at Langside, near Glasgow,
which was entirely decisive in favor of the regent; and though Murray,
after his victory, stopped the bloodshed, yet was the action followed
by a total dispersion of the queen's party. That unhappy princess fled
southwards from the field of battle with great precipitation, and came
with a few attendants to the borders of England. She here deliberated
concerning her next measures, which would probably prove so important to
her future happiness or misery. She found it impossible to remain in her
own kingdom: she had an aversion, in her present wretched condition,
to return into France, where she had formerly appeared with so much
splendor; and she was not, besides, provided with a vessel which could
safely convey her thither: the late generous behavior of Elizabeth made
her hope for protection, and even assistance, from that quarter;[**] and
as the present fears from her domestic enemies were the most urgent,
she overlooked all other considerations, and embraced the resolution
of taking shelter in England. She embarked on board a fishing-boat in
Galloway, and landed the same day at Workington, in Cumberland,
about thirty miles from Carlisle, whence she immediately despatched
a messenger to London, notifying her arrival, desiring leave to
visit Elizabeth, and craving her protection, in consequence of former
professions of friendship made her by that princess.

Elizabeth now found herself in a situation when it was become necessary
to take some decisive resolution with regard to her treatment of the
queen of Scots; and as she had hitherto, contrary to the opinion of
Cecil, attended more to the motives of generosity than of policy,[***]
she was engaged by that prudent minister to weigh anew all the
considerations which occurred in this critical conjuncture.

* Keith, p. 473, in the notes. Anderson, vol. iv. p, 26.

** Jebb's Collection, vol. i. p. 420.

*** Cabala, p. 140.

He represented, that the party which had dethroned Mary, and had at
present assumed the government of Scotland, were always attached to the
English alliance, and were engaged, by all the motives of religion
and of interest, to persevere in their connection with Elizabeth: that
though Murray and his friends might complain of some unkind usage during
their banishment in England, they would easily forget these grounds of
quarrel, when they reflected, that Elizabeth was the only ally on whom
they could safely rely, and that their own queen, by her attachment to
the Catholic faith, and by her other connections, excluded them entirely
from the friendship of France, and even from that of Spain: that Mary,
on the other hand, even before her violent breach with her Protestant
subjects, was in secret entirely governed by the counsels of the house
of Guise, much more would she implicitly comply with their views, when,
by her own ill conduct, the power of that family and of the zealous
Catholics was become her sole resource and security: that her
pretensions to the English crown would render her a dangerous instrument
in their hands; and, were she once able to suppress the Protestants in
her own kingdom, she would unite the Scottish and English Catholics,
with those of all foreign states, in a confederacy against the religion
and government of England; that it behoved Elizabeth, therefore, to
proceed with caution in the design of restoring her rival to the throne;
and to take care, both that this enterprise, if undertaken, should
be effected by English forces alone, and that full securities should
beforehand be provided for the reformers and the reformation in
Scotland: that, above all, it was necessary to guard carefully the
person of that princess; lest, finding this unexpected reserve in the
English friendship, she should suddenly take the resolution of flying
into France, and should attempt by foreign force to recover possession
of her authority: that her desperate fortunes and broken reputation
fitted her for any attempt; and her resentment, when she should find
herself thus deserted by the queen, would concur with her ambition and
her bigotry, and render her an unrelenting, as well as powerful enemy
to the English government: that if she were once abroad, in the hands
of enterprising Catholics, the attack on England would appear to her
as easy as that on Scotland; and the only method, she must imagine of
recovering her native kingdom, would be to acquire that crown to which
she would deem herself equally entitled: that a neutrality in such
interesting situations, though it might be pretended, could never,
without the most extreme danger, be upheld by the queen; and the
detention of Mary was equally requisite whether the power of England
were to be employed in her favor, or against her: that nothing, indeed,
was more becoming a great prince than generosity; yet the suggestions
of this noble principle could never, without imprudence, be consulted in
such delicate circumstances as those in which the queen was at present
placed; where her own safety and the interests of her people were
intimately concerned in every resolution which she embraced: that
though the example of successful rebellion, especially in a neighboring
country, could nowise be agreeable to any sovereign, yet Mary's
imprudence had been so great, perhaps her crimes so enormous, that the
insurrection of subjects, after such provocation, could no longer
be regarded as a precedent against other princes: that it was first
necessary for Elizabeth to ascertain, in a regular and satisfactory
manner, the extent of Mary's guilt, and thence to determine the degree
of protection which she ought to afford her against her discontented
subjects: that as no glory could surpass that of defending oppressed
innocence, it was equally infamous to patronize vice and murder on the
throne; and the contagion of such dishonor would extend itself to all
who countenanced or supported it: and that if the crimes of the Scottish
princess should, on inquiry, appear as great and certain as was affirmed
and believed, every measure against her, which policy should dictate,
would thence be justified; or if she should be found innocent, every
enterprise which friendship should inspire would be acknowledged
laudable and glorious.

Agreeably to these views, Elizabeth resolved to proceed in a seemingly
generous, but really cautious manner with the queen of Scots; and she
immediately sent orders to Lady Scrope, sister to the duke of Norfolk,
a lady who lived in the neighborhood, to attend on that princess. Soon
after, she despatched to her Lord Scrope himself, warden of the marches,
and Sir Francis Knolles, vice-chamberlain. They found Mary already
lodged in the Castle of Carlisle; and after expressing the queen's
sympathy with her in her late misfortunes, they told her, that her
request of being allowed to visit their sovereign, and of being admitted
to her presence, could not at present be complied with: till she had
cleared herself of her husband's murder, of which she was so strongly
accused, Elizabeth could not without dishonor show her any countenance,
or appear indifferent to the assassination of so near a kinsman.[*]

* Anderson, vol. iv. p. 54, 66, 82, 83, 86.

So unexpected a check threw Mary into tears: and the necessity of her
situation extorted from her a declaration, that she would willingly
justify herself to her sister from all imputations, and would submit
her cause to the arbitration of so good a friend.[*] Two days after, she
sent Lord Herreis to London with a letter to the same purpose.

This concession, which Mary could scarcely avoid without an
acknowledgment of guilt, was the point expected and desired by
Elizabeth: she immediately despatched Midlemore to the regent of
Scotland; requiring him both to desist from the further prosecution of
his queen's party, and to send some persons to London to justify his
conduct with regard to her. Murray might justly be startled at receiving
a message so violent and imperious; but as his domestic enemies were
numerous and powerful, and England was the sole ally which he could
expect among foreign nations, he was resolved rather to digest the
affront, than provoke Elizabeth by a refusal. He also considered, that
though that queen had hitherto appeared partial to Mary, many political
motives evidently engaged her to support the king's cause in Scotland;
and it was not to be doubted but so penetrating a princess would in the
end discover this interest, and would at least afford him a patient and
equitable hearing. He therefore replied, that he would himself take a
journey to England, attended by other commissioners, and would willingly
submit the determination of his cause to Elizabeth.[**]

Lord Herreis now perceived that his mistress had advanced too far in
her concessions: he endeavored to maintain, that Mary could not, without
diminution of her royal dignity, submit to a contest with her rebellious
subjects before a foreign prince: and he required either present aid
from England, or liberty for his queen to pass over into France. Being
pressed, however, with the former agreement before the English council,
he again renewed his consent; but in a few days he began anew to recoil;
and it was with some difficulty that he was brought to acquiesce in the
first determination.[***] These fluctuations, which were incessantly
renewed, showed his visible reluctance to the measures pursued by the
court of England.

* Anderson, vol. iv. p. 10, 55, 87.

** Anderson, vol. iv. p. 13-16.

*** Anderson, vol. iv. p. 16-20.

The queen of Scots discovered no less aversion to the trial proposed;
and it required all the artifice and prudence of Elizabeth to make her
persevere in the agreement to which she had at first consented. This
latter princess still said to her, that she desired not without Mary's
consent and approbation to enter into the question, and pretended only
as a friend to hear her justification: that she was confident there
would be found no difficulty in refuting all the calumnies of her
enemies; and even if her apology should fall short of full conviction,
Elizabeth was determined to support her cause, and procure her some
reasonable terms of accommodation; and that it was never meant, that she
should be cited to a trial on the accusation of her rebellious subjects;
but, on the contrary, that they should be summoned to appear, and to
justify themselves for their conduct towards her.[*] Allured by these
plausible professions, the queen of Scots agreed to vindicate herself by
her own commissioners, before commissioners appointed by Elizabeth.

During these transactions, Lord Scrope and Sir Francis Knolles, who
resided with Mary at Carlisle, had leisure to study her character, and
to make report of it to Elizabeth. Unbroken by her misfortunes, resolute
in her purpose, active in her enterprises, she aspired to nothing but
victory; and was determined to endure any extremity, to undergo any
difficulty, and to try every fortune, rather than abandon her cause, or
yield the superiority to her enemies. Eloquent, insinuating, affable,
she had already convinced all those who approached her, of the innocence
of her past conduct; and as she declared her fixed purpose to require
aid of her friends all over Europe, and even to have recourse to
infidels and barbarians, rather than fail of vengeance against her
persecutors, it was easy to foresee the danger to which her charms, her
spirit, her address, if allowed to operate with their full force, would
expose them.[**] The court of England, therefore, who, under pretence
of guarding her, had already in effect detained her prisoner, were
determined to watch her with still greater vigilance. As Carlisle,
by its situation on the borders, afforded her great opportunities
of contriving her escape, they removed her to Bolton, a seat of Lord
Scrope's in Yorkshire; and the issue of the controversy between her
and the Scottish nation was regarded as a subject more momentous
to Elizabeth's security and interests than it had hitherto been
apprehended.

* Anderson, vol. iv. p. 11, 12, 13, 109, 110.

** Anderson, vol. iv. p. 54, 71, 72, 74, 78, 92.

The Commissioners appointed by the English court for the examination of
this great cause, were the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Sussex, and Sir
Ralph Sadler; and York was named as the place of conference. Lesley,
bishop of Ross, the lords Herreis, Levingstone, and Boyde, with three
persons more, appeared as commissioners from the queen of Scots. The
earl of Murray, regent, the earl of Morton, the bishop of Orkney, Lord
Lindesey, and the abbot of Dunfermling were appointed commissioners from
the king and kingdom of Scotland. Secretary Lidington, George Buchanan,
the famous poet and historian, with some others, were named as their
assistants.

It was a great circumstance in Elizabeth's glory, that she was thus
chosen umpire between the factions of a neighboring kingdom, which
had during many centuries entertained the most violent jealousy and
animosity against England; and her felicity was equally rare, in having
the fortunes and fame of so dangerous a rival, who had long given
her the greatest inquietude, now entirely at her disposal. Some
circumstances of her late conduct had discovered a bias towards the side
of Mary: her prevailing interests led her to favor the enemies of that
princess: the professions of impartiality which she had made were open
and frequent; and she had so far succeeded, that each side accused her
commissioners of partiality towards their adversaries.[*] She herself
appears, by the instructions given them, to have fixed no plan for the
decision; but she knew that the advantages which she should reap must
be great, whatever issue the cause might take. If Mary's crimes could be
ascertained by undoubted proof, she could forever blast the reputation
of that princess, and might justifiably detain her forever a prisoner
in England: if the evidence fell short of conviction, it was intended
to restore her to the throne, but with such strict limitations, as would
leave Elizabeth perpetual arbiter of all differences between the
parties in Scotland, and render her in effect absolute mistress of the
kingdom.[**]

* Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 40.

** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 14, 15, etc. Goodall, vol.
ii p. 110.

Mary's commissioners, before they gave in their complaint, against her
enemies in Scotland, entered a protest, that their appearance in
the cause should nowise affect the independence of her crown, or
be construed as a mark of subordination to England: the English
commissioners received this protest, but with a reserve to the claim of
England. The complaint of that princess was next read, and contained a
detail of the injuries which she had suffered since her marriage with
Bothwell: that her subjects had taken arms against her, on pretence of
freeing her from captivity; that when she put herself into their hands,
they had committed her to close custody in Lochlevin; had placed her
son, an infant, on her throne; had again taken arms against her
after her deliverance from prison; had rejected all her proposals for
accommodation, had given battle to her troops; and had obliged her, for
the safety of her person, to take shelter in England.[*] The earl
of Murray, in answer to this complaint, gave a summary and imperfect
account of the late transactions: that the earl of Bothwell, the known
murderer of the late king, had, a little after committing that crime,
seized the person of the queen and led her to Dunbar; that he acquired
such influence over her as to gain her consent to marry him, and he had
accordingly procured a divorce from his former wife, and had pretended
to celebrate his nuptials with the queen; that the scandal of this
transaction, the dishonor which it brought on the nation, the danger to
which the infant prince was exposed from the attempts of that audacious
man, had obliged the nobility to take arms, and oppose his criminal
enterprises; that after Mary, in order to save him, had thrown herself
into their hands, she still discovered such a violent attachment to him,
that they found it necessary, for their own and the public safety,
to confine her person during a season, till Bothwell and the other
murderers of her husband could be tried and punished for their crimes;
and that during this confinement she had voluntarily, without compulsion
or violence, merely from disgust at the inquietude and vexations
attending power, resigned her crown to her only son, and had appointed
the earl of Murray regent during the minority.[**]

* Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 52. Goodall, vol. ii. p.
128. Haynes, p. 478.

** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 64, et seq. Goodall, vol.
ii. p. 144.

The queen's answer to this apology was obvious: that she did not know,
and never could suspect, that Bothwell, who had been acquitted by a
jury, and recommended to her by all the nobility for her husband,
was the murderer of the king; that she ever was, and still continues
desirous, that, if he be guilty, he may be brought to condign
punishment; that her resignation of the crown was extorted from her
by the well-grounded fears of her life, and even by direct menaces
of violence; and that Throgmorton, the English ambassador, as well as
others of her friends, had advised her to sign that paper, as the only
means of saving herself from the last extremity, and had assured her,
that a consent, given under these circumstances, could never have any
validity.[*]

So far the queen of Scots seemed plainly to have the advantage in the
contest; and the English commissioners might have been surprised that
Murray had made so weak a defence, and had suppressed all the material
imputations against that princess, on which his party had ever so
strenuously insisted, had not some private conferences previously
informed them of the secret. Mary's commissioners had boasted that
Elizabeth, from regard to her kinswoman, and from her desire of
maintaining the rights of sovereigns, was determined, how criminal
soever the conduct of that princess might appear, to restore her to the
throne;[**] and Murray, reflecting on some past measures of the English
court, began to apprehend that there were but too just grounds for these
expectations. He believed that Mary, if he would agree to conceal the
most violent part of the accusation against her, would submit to any
reasonable terms of accommodation; but if he once proceeded so far as to
charge her with the whole of her guilt, no composition could afterwards
take place; and should she ever be restored, either by the power of
Elizabeth or the assistance of her other friends, he and his party must
be exposed to her severe and implacable vengeance.[***] He resolved,
therefore, not to venture rashly on a measure which it would be
impossible for him ever to recall; and he privately paid a visit to
Norfolk and the other English commissioners, confessed his scruples,
laid before them the evidence of the queen's guilt, and desired to have
some security for Elizabeth's protection, in case that evidence should,
upon examination, appear entirely satisfactory. Norfolk was not secretly
displeased with these scruples of the regent.[****]

* Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 60, et seq. Goodall, vol.
ii. p. 162.

** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 45. Goodall, vol. ii. p.
127.

*** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 47, 48. Goodall, vol. ii.
p. 159.

**** Crawford, p. 92. Melvil, p. 94, 95. Haynes, p. 574.

He had ever been a partisan of the queen of Scots. Secretary Lidington,
who began also to incline to that party, and was a man of singular
address and capacity, had engaged him to embrace further views in
her favor, and even to think of espousing her: and though that duke
confessed[*] that the proofs against Mary seemed to him unquestionable,
he encouraged Murray in his present resolution, not to produce them
publicly in the conferences before the English commissioners.[**]

Norfolk, however, was obliged to transmit to court the queries proposed
by the regent. These queries consisted of four particulars: Whether the
English commissioners had authority from their sovereign to pronounce
sentence against Mary, in case her guilt should be fully proved before
them? Whether they would promise to exercise that authority, and proceed
to an actual sentence? Whether the queen of Scots, if she were found
guilty, should be delivered into the hands of the regent, or, at least,
be so secured in England, that she never should be able to disturb the
tranquillity of Scotland? and, Whether Elizabeth would also, in that
case, promise to acknowledge the young king, and protect the regent in
his authority?[***]

Elizabeth, when these queries, with the other transactions, were laid
before her, began to think that they pointed towards a conclusion more
decisive and more advantageous than she had hitherto expected. She
determined therefore to bring the matter into full light; and, under
pretext that the distance from her person retarded the proceedings
of her commissioners, she ordered them to come to London, and there
continue the conferences. On their appearance, she immediately joined in
commission with them some of the most considerable of her council; Sir
Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper, the earls of Arundel and Leicester, Lord
Clinton, admiral, and Sir William Cecil, secretary.[****] The queen of
Scots, who knew nothing of these secret motives, and who expected that
fear or decency would still restrain Murray from proceeding to any
violent accusation against her, expressed an entire satisfaction in this
adjournment; and declared that the affair, being under the immediate
inspection of Elizabeth, was now in the hands where she most desired to
rest it.[v].

* Anderson, vol., iv. part ii. p. 77.

** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 57, 77. State Trials, vol.
i. p. 76

*** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 55. Goodall, vol. ii. p.
130.

**** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 99.

v Anderson, vol iv. part ii. p. 95. Goodall, vol. ii. p
177, 179.

The conferences were accordingly continued at Hampton Court; and Mary's
commissioners, as before, made no scruple to be present at them.

The queen, meanwhile, gave a satisfactory answer to all Murray's
demands; and declared that, though she wished and hoped from the present
inquiry to be entirely convinced of Mary's innocence, yet if the event
should prove contrary, and if that princess should appear guilty of
her husband's murder, she should, for her own part, deem her ever after
unworthy of a throne.[*] The regent, encouraged by this declaration,
opened more fully his charge against the queen of Scots; and after
expressing his reluctance to proceed to that extremity, and protesting
that nothing but the necessity of self-defence, which must not be
abandoned for any delicacy, could have engaged him in such a measure, he
proceeded to accuse her in plain terms of participation and consent in
the assassination of the king.[**] The earl of Lenox too appeared before
the English commissioners, and, imploring vengeance for the murder
of his son, accused Mary as an accomplice with Bothwell in that
enormity.[***]

When this charge was so unexpectedly given in, and copies of it
were transmitted to the bishop of Ross, Lord Herreis, and the other
commissioners of Mary, they absolutely refused to return an answer;
and they grounded their silence on very extraordinary reasons: they had
orders, they said, from their mistress, if any thing were advanced that
might touch her honor, not to make any defence, as she was a sovereign
princess, and could not be subject to any tribunal; and they required
that she should previously be admitted to Elizabeth's presence, to whom,
and to whom alone, she was determined to justify her innocence.[****]

* Goodall, vol. ii. p. 199.

** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 115, et seq. Goodall, vol.
ii. p. 206.

*** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 122. Goodall, vol. ii. p.
208.

**** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 125, et seq. Goodall,
vol. ii. p. 184, 211, 217.

They forgot that the conferences were at first begun, and were still
continued, with no other view than to clear her from the accusations of
her enemies; that Elizabeth had ever pretended to enter into them only
as her friend, by her own consent and approbation, not as assuming any
jurisdiction over her; that this princess had from the beginning refused
to admit her to her presence, till she should vindicate herself from the
crimes imputed to her; that she had therefore discovered no new signs of
partiality by her perseverance in that resolution; and that though she
had granted an audience to the earl of Murray and his colleagues, she
had previously conferred the same honor on Mary's commissioners;[*] and
her conduct was so far entirely equal to both parties.[**] [11]

As the commissioners of the queen of Scots refused to give in any answer
to Murray's charge, the necessary consequence seemed to be, that there
could be no further proceedings in the conference. But though this
silence might be interpreted as a presumption against her, it did not
fully answer the purpose of those English ministers who were enemies to
that princess. They still desired to have in their hands the proofs of
her guilt; and in order to draw them with decency from the regent, a
judicious artifice was employed by Elizabeth. Murray was called before
the English commissioners, and reproved by them, in the queen's name,
for the atrocious imputations which he had the temerity to throw upon
his sovereign; but though the earl of Murray, they added, and the other
commissioners, had so far forgotten the duty of allegiance to their
prince, the queen never would overlook what she owed to her friend, her
neighbor, and her kinswoman; and she therefore desired to know what they
could say in their own justification.[***] Murray, thus urged, made no
difficulty in producing the proofs of his charge against the queen of
Scots; and among the rest, some love-letters and sonnets of hers to
Bothwell, written all in her own hand, and two other papers, one written
in her own hand, another subscribed by her, and written by the earl of
Huntley; each of which contained a promise of marriage with Bothwell,
made before the pretended trial and acquittal of that nobleman.

* Lesley's Negotiations in Anderson, vol. iii. p. 25.
Haynes, p. 487.

** See note K, at the end of the volume.

*** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 147. Goodall, vol. ii. p.
233.

All these important papers had been kept by Bothwell in a silver box or
casket, which had been given him by Mary, and which had belonged to her
first husband, Francis; and though the princess had enjoined him to burn
the letters as soon as he had read them, he had thought proper carefully
to preserve them, as pledges of her fidelity, and had committed them
to the custody of Sir James Balfour, deputy governor of the Castle of
Edinburgh. When that fortress was besieged by the associated lords,
Bothwell sent a servant to receive the casket from the hands of the
deputy governor. Balfour delivered it to the messenger; but as he had
at that time received some disgust from Bothwell, and was secretly
negotiating an agreement with the ruling party, he took care, by
conveying private intelligence to the earl of Morton, to make the papers
be intercepted by him, They contained incontestable proofs of Mary's
criminal correspondence with Bothwell, of her consent to the king's
murder, and of her concurrence in the violence which Bothwell
pretended to commit upon her.[*] Murray fortified this evidence by some
testimonies of corresponding facts;[**] and he added, some time after,
the dying confession of one Hubert, or French Paris, as he was called, a
servant of Bothwell's, who had been executed for the king's murder, and
who directly charged the queen with her being accessory to that criminal
enterprise.[***]

Mary's commissioners had used every expedient to ward this blow, which
they saw coming upon them, and against which, it appears, they were not
provided with any proper defence. As soon as Murray opened his
charge, they endeavored to turn the conferences from an inquiry into
a negotiation; and though informed by the English commissioners, that
nothing could be more dishonorable for their mistress, than to enter
into a treaty with such undutiful subjects, before she had justified
herself from those enormous imputations which had been thrown upon her,
they still insisted that Elizabeth should settle terms of accommodation
between Mary and her enemies in Scotland.[****] They maintained, that
till their mistress had given in her answer to Murray's charge, his
proofs could neither be called for nor produced:[v] and finding that
the English commissioners were still determined to proceed in the method
which had been projected, they finally broke off the conferences, and
never would make any reply.

* Anderson, vol. ii. p. 115. Goodall, vol. ii. p. 1.

** Anderson, vol. ii. part ii. p. 165, etc. Goodall, vol.
ii.

*** Anderson, vol. ii. p. 192. Goodall, vol. ii. p. 76.

**** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 135, 139. Goodall, vol.
ii.

v Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 139, 145. Goodall, vol. ii.

These papers, at least translations of them, have since been published.
The objections made to their authenticity are in general of small force:
but were they ever so specious, they cannot now be hearkened to; since
Mary, at the time when the truth could have been fully cleared, did in
effect ratify the evidence against her, by recoiling from the inquiry
at the very critical moment, and refusing to give an answer to the
accusation of her enemies.[*] [12]

But Elizabeth, though she had seen enough for her own satisfaction, was
determined that the most eminent persons of her court should also be
acquainted with these transactions, and should be convinced of
the equity of her proceedings. She ordered her privy council to be
assembled; and, that she might render the matter more solemn and
authentic, she summoned along with them the earls of Northumberland,
Westmoreland, Shrewsbury, Worcester, Huntingdon, and Warwick. All
the proceedings of the English commissioners were read to them: the
evidences produced by Murray were perused: a great number of letters
written by Mary to Elizabeth were laid before them, and the handwriting
compared with that of the letters delivered in by the regent: the
refusal of the queen of Scots' commissioners to make any reply was
related: and on the whole, Elizabeth told them, that as she had from
the first thought it improper that Mary, after such horrid crimes were
imputed to her, should be admitted to her presence, before she had in
some measure justified herself from the charge, so now, when her guilt
was confirmed by so many evidences, and all answer refused, she must,
for her part, persevere more steadily in that resolution.[**] Elizabeth
next called in the queen of Scots' commissioners; and after observing,
that she deemed it much more decent for their mistress to continue
the conferences, than to require the liberty of justifying herself in
person, she told them, that Mary might either send her reply by a person
whom she trusted, or deliver it herself to some English nobleman, whom
Elizabeth should appoint to wait upon her: but as to her resolution of
making no reply at all, she must regard it as the strongest confession
of guilt, nor could they ever be deemed her friends who advised her to
that method of proceeding.[***] These topics she enforced still more
strongly in a letter which she wrote to Mary herself.[****]

* See note L, at the end of the volume.

** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 170, etc. Goodall, vol.
ii. p. 254.

*** Anderson, vol. iv. part ii. p. 179, etc. Goodall, vol.
ii p. 268.

**** Anderson, vol. iv part ii. p. 183. Goodall, vol. ii. p.
269.

The queen of Scots had no other subterfuge from these pressing
remonstrances, than still to demand a personal interview with Elizabeth:
a concession which, she was sensible, would never be granted;[*] because
Elizabeth knew that this expedient could decide nothing; because it
brought matters to extremity, which that princess desired to avoid;
and because it had been refused from the beginning, even before the
commencement of the conferences. In order to keep herself better in
countenance, Mary thought of another device. Though the conferences were
broken off, she ordered her commissioners to accuse the earl of
Murray and his associates as the murderers of the king:[**] but this
accusation, coming so late, being extorted merely by a complaint of
Murray's, and being unsupported by any proof, could only be regarded
as an angry recrimination upon her enemy.[***] [13] She also desired
to have copies of the papers given in by the regent; but as she
still persisted in her resolution to make no reply before the English
commissioners, this demand was finally refused her.[****] [14]

* Cabala, p. 157.

** Goodall, vol. ii. p. 280.

*** See note M, at the end of the volume.

**** Goodall, vol. ii. p. 253, 283, 289, 310, 311. Haynes,
vol. i. p. 492. See note N, at the end of the volume.

As Mary had thus put an end to the conferences, the regent expressed
great impatience to return into Scotland; and he complained, that his
enemies had taken advantage of his absence, and had thrown the whole
government into confusion. Elizabeth therefore dismissed him; and
granted him a loan of five thousand pounds, to bear the charges of his
journey.[*] During the conferences at York, the duke of Chatelrault
arrived at London, in passing from France; and as the queen knew that he
was engaged in Mary's party, and had very plausible pretensions to the
regency of the king of Scots, she thought proper to detain him till
after Murray's departure. But notwithstanding these marks of favor, and
some other assistance which she secretly gave this latter nobleman,[**]
she still declined acknowledging the young king, or treating with Murray
as regent of Scotland.

* Rymer, tom. xv. p. 677.

* MS. in the Advocates' library. A. 3, 29, p. 128, 129, 130,
from Cott. lab. Cal. c. 1.

Orders were given for removing the queen of Scots from Bolton, a place
surrounded with Catholics, to Tutbury, in the county of Stafford, where
she was put under the custody of the earl of Shrewsbury. Elizabeth
entertained hopes that this princess, discouraged by her misfortunes,
and confounded by the late transactions, would be glad to secure a safe
retreat from all the tempests with which she had been agitated; and she
promised to bury every thing in oblivion, provided Mary would agree,
either voluntary to resign her crown, or to associate her son with
her in the government; and the administration to remain, during his
minority, in the hands of the earl of Murray.[*] But that high-spirited
princess refused all treaty upon such terms, and declared that her
last words should be those of a queen of Scotland. Besides many other
reasons, she said, which fixed her in that resolution, she knew, that if
in the present emergence she made such concessions, her submission would
be universally deemed an acknowledgment of guilt, and would ratify all
the calumnies of her enemies.[**]

* Goodall, vol. ii. p. 295.

** Goodall. vol. ii. p. 301.

Mary still insisted upon this alternative; either that Elizabeth should
assist her in recovering her authority, or should give her liberty to
retire into France, and make trial of the friendship of other princes:
and as she asserted, that she had come voluntarily into England, invited
by many former professions of amity, she thought that one or other of
these requests could not, without the most extreme injustice, be refused
her. But Elizabeth, sensible of the danger which attended both these
proposals, was secretly resolved to detain her still a captive; and as
her retreat into England had been little voluntary, her claim upon the
queen's generosity appeared much less urgent than she was willing to
pretend. Necessity, it was thought, would to the prudent justify her
detention: her past misconduct would apologize for it to the equitable:
and though it was foreseen, that compassion for Mary's situation, joined
to her intrigues and insinuating behavior, would, while she remained in
England, excite the zeal of her friends, especially of the Catholics,
these inconveniences were deemed much inferior to those which attended
any other expedient. Elizabeth trusted also to her own address,
for eluding all these difficulties: she purposed to avoid breaking
absolutely with the queen of Scots, to keep her always in hopes of an
accommodation, to negotiate perpetually with her, and still to throw the
blame of not coming to any conclusion, either on unforeseen accidents,
or on the obstinacy and perverseness of others.

We come now to mention some English affairs which we left behind us,
that we might not interrupt our narrative of the events in Scotland,
which formed so material a part of the present reign. The term fixed by
the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis for the restitution of Calais, expired
in 1567; and Elizabeth, after making her demand at the gates of that
city, sent Sir Thomas Smith to Paris; and that minister, in conjunction
with Sir Henry Norris, her resident ambassador, enforced her
pretensions. Conferences were held on that head, without coming to any
conclusion satisfactory to the English. The chancellor, De L'Hospital,
told the English ambassadors, that though France by an article of the
treaty was obliged to restore Calais on the expiration of eight years,
there was another article of the same treaty, which now deprived
Elizabeth of any right that could accrue to her by that engagement;
that it was agreed, if the English should, during the interval, commit
hostilities upon France, they should instantly forfeit all claim to
Calais; and the taking possession of Havre and Dieppe, with whatever
pretences that measure might be covered, was a plain violation of the
peace between the nations: that though these places were not entered by
force, but put into Elizabeth's hands by the governors, these governors
were rebels; and a correspondence with such traitors was the most
flagrant injury that could be committed on any sovereign: that in the
treaty which ensued upon the expulsion of the English from Normandy, the
French ministers had absolutely refused to make any mention of Calais,
and had thereby declared their intention to take advantage of the title
which had accrued to the crown of France: and that though a general
clause had been inserted, implying a reservation of all claims, this
concession could not avail the English, who at that time possessed no
just claim to Calais, and had previously forfeited all right to
that fortress.[*] The queen was nowise surprised at hearing these
allegations; and as she knew that the French court intended not from
the first to make restitution, much less after they could justify their
refusal by such plausible reasons, she thought it better for the present
to acquiesce in the loss, than to pursue a doubtful title by a war both
dangerous and expensive, as well as unseasonable.[**]

* Haynes, p. 587.

** Camden, p. 406.

Elizabeth entered anew into negotiations for espousing the archduke
Charles; and she seems, at this time, to have had no great motive of
policy which might induce her to make this fallacious offer: but as she
was very rigorous in the terms insisted on, and would not agree that
the archduke, if he espoused her, should enjoy any power or title in
England, and even refused him the exercise of his religion, the
treaty came to nothing; and that prince, despairing of success in his
addresses, married the daughter of Albert, duke of Bavaria.[*]

* Camden, p. 407, 408.

CHAPTER XL

ELIZABETH.

{1568.} Of all the European churches which shook off the yoke of papal
authority, no one proceeded with so much reason and moderation as the
church of England; an advantage which had been derived partly from the
interposition of the civil magistrate in this innovation, partly from
the gradual and slow steps by which the reformation was conducted in
that kingdom. Rage and animosity against the Catholic religion was as
little indulged as could be supposed in such a revolution: the fabric
of the secular hierarchy was maintained entire: the ancient liturgy was
preserved, so far as was thought consistent with the new principles:
many ceremonies, become venerable from age and preceding use were
retained: the splendor of the Romish worship, though removed, had at
least given place to order and decency: the distinctive habits of
the clergy, according to their different ranks, were continued: no
innovation was admitted merely from spite and opposition to former
usage: and the new religion, by mitigating the genius of the ancient
superstition, and rendering it more compatible with the peace and
interests of society, had preserved itself in that happy medium which
wise men have always sought, and which the people have so seldom been
able to maintain.

But though such in general was the spirit of the reformation in
that country, many of the English reformers, being men of more warm
complexions and more obstinate tempers, endeavored to push matters to
extremities against the church of Rome, and indulged themselves in the
most violent contrariety and antipathy to all former practices. Among
these, Hooper, who afterwards suffered for his religion with such
extraordinary constancy, was chiefly distinguished. This man was
appointed, during the reign of Edward, to the see of Glocester, and
made no scruple of accepting the episcopal office; but he refused to
be consecrated in the episcopal habit, the cymar and rochet, which had
formerly, he said, been abused to superstition, and which were thereby
rendered unbecoming a true Christian. Cranmer and Ridley were surprised
at this objection, which opposed the received practice, and even the
established laws; and though young Edward, desirous of promoting a man
so celebrated for his eloquence, his zeal, and his morals, enjoined them
to dispense with this ceremony, they were still determined to retain it.
Hooper then embraced the resolution, rather to refuse the bishopric
than clothe himself in those hated garments; but it was deemed requisite
that, for the sake of the example, he should not escape so easily. He
was first confined to Cranmer's house, then thrown into prison, till he
should consent to be a bishop on the terms proposed: he was plied with
conferences, and reprimands, and arguments: Bucer and Peter Martyr, and
the most celebrated foreign reformers, were consulted on this important
question: and a compromise, with great difficulty, was at last made,
that Hooper should not be obliged to wear commonly the obnoxious robes,
but should agree to be consecrated in them, and to use them during
cathedral service;[*] a condescension not a little extraordinary in a
man of so inflexible a spirit as this reformer.

The same objection which had arisen with regard to the episcopal habit,
had been moved against the raiment of the inferior clergy; and the
surplice in particular, with the tippet and corner cap, was a great
object of abhorrence to many of the popular zealots.[**]

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 152. Heylin, p. 90.

** Strype, vol. i. p. 416.

In vain was it urged, that particular habits, as well as postures and
ceremonies, having been constantly used by the clergy, and employed
in religious service, acquire a veneration in the eyes of the people,
appear sacred in their apprehensions, excite their devotion, and
contract a kind of mysterious virtue, which attaches the affections of
men to the national and established worship: that in order to produce
this effect, a uniformity in these particulars is requisite, and even a
perseverance, as far as possible, in the former practice: and that the
nation would be happy, if, by retaining these inoffensive observances,
the reformers could engage the people to renounce willingly what was
absurd or pernicious in the ancient superstition. These arguments, which
had influence with wise men, were the very reasons which engaged the
violent Protestants to reject the habits. They pushed matters to a total
opposition with the church of Rome; every compliance, they said, was a
symbolizing with Antichrist.[*] And this spirit was carried so far by
some reformers, that, in a national remonstrance, made afterwards by the
church of Scotland against these habits, it was asked, "What has
Christ Jesus to do with Belial? What has darkness to do with light? If
surplices, corner caps, and tippets have been badges cf idolaters in
the very act of their idolatry, why should the preacher of Christian
liberty, and the open rebuker of all superstition, partake with the
dregs of the Romish beast? Yea, who is there that ought not rather to be
afraid of taking in his hand, or on his forehead, the print and mark of
that odious beast?"[**] But this application was rejected by the English
church.

There was only one instance in which the spirit of contradiction to the
Romanists took place universally in England: the altar was removed from
the wall, was placed in the middle of the church, and was thenceforth
denominated the communion table. The reason why this innovation met with
such general reception was, that the nobility and gentry got thereby
a pretence for making spoil of the plate, vestures, and rich ornaments
which belonged to the altars.[***]

* Strype, vol. i. p. 416.

** Keith, p. 565. Knox, p. 402.

*** Heylin, Preface, p. 3. Hist. p. 106.

These disputes, which had been started during the reign of Edward, were
carried abroad by the Protestants who fled from the persecutions of
Mary; and as the zeal of these men had received an increase from the
furious cruelty of their enemies, they were generally inclined to carry
their opposition to the utmost extremity against the practices of the
church of Rome. Their communication with Calvin, and the other reformers
who followed the discipline and worship of Geneva, confirmed them in
this obstinate reluctance; and though some of the refugees, particularly
those who were established at Frankfort, still adhered to King Edward's
liturgy, the prevailing spirit carried these confessors to seek a still
further reformation. On the accession of Elizabeth, they returned to
their native country; and being regarded with general veneration, on
account of their zeal and past sufferings, they ventured to insist
on the establishment of their projected model; nor did they want
countenance from many considerable persona in the queen's council. But
the princess herself, so far from being willing to despoil religion
of the few ornaments and ceremonies which remained in it, was rather
inclined to bring the public worship still nearer to the Romish
ritual;[*] and she thought that the reformation had already gone too far
in shaking off those forms and observances, which, without distracting
men of more refined apprehensions, tend, in a very innocent manner, to
allure, and amuse, and engage the vulgar.

* "When Nowel, one of her chaplains, had spoken less
reverently, in a sermon preached before her, of the sign of
the cross, she called aloud to him from her closet window,
commanding him to retire from the ungodly digression, and
to return unto his text. And on the other side, when one of
her divines had preached a sermon in defence of the real
presence, she openly gave him thanks for his pains and
piety." Heylin, p. 124. She would have absolutely forbidden
the marriage of the clergy, if Cecil had not interposed.
Strype's Life of Parker, p. 107, 108, 109. She was an enemy
to sermons; and usually said, that she thought two or three
preachers were sufficient for a whole county. It was
probably for these reasons that one Doring told her to her
face from the pulpit, that she was like an untamed heifer,
that would not be ruled by God's people, but obstructed his
discipline See Life of Hooker, prefixed to his works.

She took care to have a law for uniformity strictly enacted: she was
empowered by the parliament to add any new ceremonies which she thought
proper: and though she was sparing in the exercise of this prerogative,
she continued rigid in exacting an observance of the established laws,
and in punishing all nonconformity. The zealots, therefore, who harbored
a secret antipathy to the Episcopal order, and to the whole liturgy,
were obliged, in a great measure, to conceal these sentiments, which
would have been regarded as highly audacious and criminal; and they
confined their avowed objections to the surplice, the confirmation
of children, the sign of the cross in baptism, the ring in marriage,
kneeling at the sacrament, and bowing at the name of Jesus. So fruitless
is it for sovereigns to watch with a rigid care over orthodoxy, and to
employ the sword in religious controversy, that the work, perpetually
renewed, is perpetually to begin; and a garb, a gesture, nay, a
metaphysical or grammatical distinction, when rendered important by the
disputes of theologians and the zeal of the magistrate, is sufficient
to destroy the unity of the church, and even the peace of society. These
controversies had already excited such ferment among the people, that in
some places, they refused to frequent the churches where the habits
and ceremonies were used; would not salute the conforming clergy; and
proceeded so far as to revile them in the streets, to spit in their
faces, and to use them with all manner of contumely.[*] And while the
sovereign authority checked these excesses, the flame was confined, not
extinguished; and burning fiercer from confinement, it burst out in the
succeeding reigns to the destruction of the church and monarchy.

* Strype's Life of Whitgift, p. 460

All enthusiasts, indulging themselves in rapturous flights ecstasies,
visions, inspirations, have a natural aversion to episcopal authority,
to ceremonies, rites, and forms which they denominate superstition, or
beggarly elements, and which seem to restrain the liberal effusions of
their zeal and devotion: but there was another set of opinions adopted
by these innovators, which rendered them in a peculiar manner the
object of Elizabeth's aversion. The same bold and daring spirit which
accompanied them in their addresses to the Divinity, appeared in their
political speculations; and the principles of civil liberty, which
during some reigns had been little avowed in the nation, and which were
totally incompatible with the present exorbitant prerogative, had
been strongly adopted by this new sect. Scarcely any sovereign before
Elizabeth, and none after her, carried higher, both in speculation
and practice, the authority of the crown; and the Puritans (so these
sectaries were called, on account of their pretending to a superior
purity of worship and discipline) could not recommend themselves
worse to her favor, than by inculcating the doctrine of resisting or
restraining princes. From all these motives, the queen neglected no
opportunity of depressing those zealous innovators; and while they were
secretly countenanced by some of her most favored ministers, Cecil,
Leicester, Knolles, Bedford, Walsingham, she never was, to the end of
her life, reconciled to their principles and practices.

We have thought proper to insert in this place an account of the rise
and the genius of the Puritans; because Camden marks the present year as
the period when they began to make themselves considerable in England.
We now return to our narration.

{1569.} The duke of Norfolk was the only peer that enjoyed the highest
title of nobility; and as there were at present no princes of the blood,
the splendor of his family, the opulence of his fortune, and the extent
of his influence, had rendered him, without comparison, the first
subject in England. The qualities of his mind corresponded to his high
station:--beneficent, affable, generous, he had acquired the affections
of the people; prudent, moderate, obsequious, he possessed, without
giving her any jealousy, the good graces of his sovereign. His
grandfather and father had long been regarded as the leaders of the
Catholics; and this hereditary attachment, joined to the alliance of
blood, had procured him the friendship of the most considerable men
of that party; but as he had been educated among the reformers, was
sincerely devoted to their principles, and maintained that strict
decorum and regularity of life by which the Protestants were at that
time distinguished, he thereby enjoyed the rare felicity of being
popular even with the most opposite factions. The height of his
prosperity alone was the source of his misfortunes, and engaged him in
attempts from which his virtue and prudence would naturally have forever
kept him at a distance.

Norfolk was at this time a widower; and being of a suitable age, his
marriage with the queen of Scots had appeared so natural, that it
occurred to several of his friends and those of that princess: but the
first person who, after Secretary Lidington, opened the scheme to the
duke, is said to have been the earl of Murray, before his departure for
Scotland.[*] That nobleman set before Norfolk, both the advantage of
composing the dissensions in Scotland by an alliance which would be
so generally acceptable, and the prospect of reaping the succession of
England; and in order to bind Norfolk's interest the faster with Mary's,
he proposed that the duke's daughter should also espouse the young
king of Scotland. The previously obtaining of Elizabeth's consent was
regarded, both by Murray and Norfolk, as a circumstance essential to
the success of their project; and all terms being adjusted between them,
Murray took care, by means of Sir Robert Melvil, to have the design
communicated to the queen of Scots. This princess replied, that the
vexations which she had met with in her two last marriages, had made her
more inclined to lead a single life; but she was determined to sacrifice
her own inclinations to the public welfare: and therefore, as soon as
she should be legally divorced from Bothwell, she would be determined
by the opinion of her nobility and people in the choice of another
husband.[**]

* Lesley, p. 36, 87.

** Lesley, p. 40, 41.

It is probable that Murray was not sincere in this proposal. He had two
motives to engage him to dissimulation. Heknew the danger which he must
run in his return through the north of England, from the power of the
earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, Mary's partisans in that
country; and he dreaded an insurrection in Scotland from the duke of
Chatelrault and the earls of Argyle and Huntley, whom she had appointed
her lieutenants during her absence. By these feigned appearances
of friendship, he both engaged Norfolk to write in his favor to the
northern noblemen,[*] and he persuaded the queen of Scots to give her
lieutenants permission, and even advice, to conclude a cessation of
hostilities with the regent's party.[**]

The duke of Norfolk, though he had agreed that Elizabeth's consent
should be previously obtained before the completion of his marriage, had
reason to apprehend that he never should prevail with her voluntarily
to make that concession. He knew her perpetual and unrelenting jealousy
against her heir and rival; he was acquainted with her former reluctance
to all proposals of marriage with the queen of Scots; he foresaw that
this princess's espousing a person of his power, and character, and
interest, would give the greatest umbrage; and as it would then become
necessary to reinstate her in possession of her throne on some tolerable
terms, and even to endeavor the reëstablishing of her character, he
dreaded lest Elizabeth, whose politics had now taken a different
turn, would never agree to such indulgent and generous conditions. He
therefore attempted previously to gain the consent and approbation of
several of the most considerable nobility; and he was successful with
the earls of Pembroke, Arundel, Derby, Bedford, Shrewsbury, Southampton,
Northumberland, Westmoreland, Sussex.[***] Lord Lumley and Sir Nicholas
Throgmorton cordially embraced the proposal: even the earl of Leicester,
Elizabeth's declared favorite, who had formerly entertained some views
of espousing Mary, willingly resigned all his pretensions, and seemed
to enter zealously into Norfolk's interests.[****] There were other
motives, besides affection to the duke, which produced this general
combination of the nobility.

* State Trials, p. 76, 78.

** Lesley, p. 41.

*** Lesley, p. 55. Camden, p. 419. Spotswood, p. 230.

**** Haynes, p. 535.

Sir William Cecil, secretary of state, was the most vigilant, active,
and prudent minister ever known in England; and as he was governed by
no views but the interests of his sovereign which he had inflexibly
pursued, his authority over her became every day more predominant. Ever
cool himself, and uninfluenced by prejudice or affection, he checked
those sallies of passion, and sometimes of caprice, to which she was
subject; and if he failed of persuading her in the first movement, his
perseverance, and remonstrances, and arguments were sure at last to
recommend themselves to her sound discernment. The more credit he gained
with his mistress, the more was he exposed to the envy of her other
counsellors; and as he had been supposed to adopt the interests of the
house of Suffolk, whose claim seemed to carry with it no danger to the
present establishment, his enemies, in opposition to him, were naturally
led to attach themselves to the queen of Scots. Elizabeth saw without
uneasiness this emulation among her courtiers, which served to augment
her own authority: and though she supported Cecil whenever matters
came to extremities, and dissipated every conspiracy against him,
particularly one laid about this time for having him thrown into the
Tower on some pretence or other,[*] she never gave him such unlimited
confidence as might enable him entirely to crush his adversaries.

Norfolk, sensible of the difficulty which he must meet with in
controlling Cecil's counsels, especially where they concurred with the
inclination as well as interest of the queen, durst not open to her his
intentions of marrying the queen of Scots, but proceeded still in the
same course of increasing his interest in the kingdom, and engaging more
of the nobility to take part in his measures. A letter was written to
Mary by Leicester, and signed by several of the first rank, recommending
Norfolk for her husband, and stipulating conditions for the advantage of
both kingdoms; particularly, that she should give sufficient surety
to Elizabeth, and the heirs of her body, for the free enjoyment of the
crown of England, that a perpetual league, offensive and defensive,
should be made between their realms and subjects; that the Protestant
religion should be established by law in Scotland; and that she should
grant an amnesty to her rebels in that kingdom.[**]

* Camden, p. 417.

** Lesley, p. 50. Camden, p. 420. Haynes, p. 535, 539

When Mary returned a favorable answer to this application, Norfolk
employed himself with new ardor in the execution of his project; and
besides securing the interests of many of the considerable gentry and
nobility who resided at court, he wrote letters to such as lived at
their country seats, and possessed the greatest authority in the several
counties.[*] The kings of France and Spain, who interested themselves
extremely in Mary's cause, were secretly consulted, and expressed their
approbation of these measures.[**] And though Elizabeth's consent
was always supposed as a previous condition to the finishing of this
alliance, it was apparently Norfolk's intention, when he proceeded such
lengths without consulting her, to render his party so strong, that it
should no longer be in her power to refuse it.[***]

It was impossible that so extensive a conspiracy could entirely escape
the queen's vigilance and that of Cecil. She dropped several intimations
to the duke, by which he might learn that she was acquainted with his
designs; and she frequently warned him to beware on what pillow he
reposed his head:[****] but he never had the prudence or the courage to
open to her his full intentions. Certain intelligence of this dangerous
combination was given her first by Leicester, then by Murray,[v] who, if
ever he was sincere in promoting Norfolk's marriage, which is much to be
doubted, had at least intended for his own safety and that of his party,
that Elizabeth should in reality, as well as in appearance, be entire
arbiter of the conditions, and should not have her consent extorted by
any confederacy of her own subjects. This information gave great alarm
to the court of England; and the more so, as those intrigues were
attended with other circumstances, of which, it is probable, Elizabeth
was not wholly ignorant.

* Lesley, p. 62.

** Lesley, p. 63.

*** State Trials, vol. i. p. 82.

**** Camden, p. 420. Spotswood, p. 231.

v Lesley, p. 71. It appears by Haynes, (p. 521, 525,) that
Elizabeth had heard rumors of Norfolk's dealing with Murray;
and charged the latter to inform her of the whole truth,
which he accordingly did. See also the earl of Murray's
letter produced on Norfolk's trial.

Among the nobility and gentry that seemed to enter into Norfolk's views,
there were many who were zealously attached to the Catholic religion,
who had no other design than that of restoring Mary to her liberty, and
who would gladly, by a combination with foreign powers, or even at the
expense of a civil war, have placed her on the throne or England. The
earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, who possessed great power
in the north, were leaders of this party; and the former nobleman made
offer to the queen of Scots, by Leonard Dacres, brother to Lord Dacres,
that he would free her from confinement, and convey her to Scotland,
or any other place to which she should think proper to retire.[*] Sir
Thomas and Sir Edward Stanley, sons of the earl of Derby, Sir Thomas
Gerrard, Rolstone, and other gentlemen whose interest lay in the
neighborhood of the place where Mary resided, concurred in the same
views; and required that, in order to facilitate the execution of the
scheme, a diversion should in the mean time be made from the side of
Flanders.[**] Norfolk discouraged, and even, in appearance, suppressed
these conspiracies; both because his duty to Elizabeth would not allow
him to think of effecting his purpose by rebellion, and because he
foresaw that, if the queen of Scots came into the possession of these
men, they would rather choose for her husband the king of Spain, or some
foreign prince, who had power, as well as inclination, to reestablish
the Catholic religion.[***]

* Lesley, p. 76.

** Lesley, p. 98.

*** Lesley, p. 77.

When men of honor and good principles, like the duke of Norfolk, engage
in dangerous enterprises, they are commonly so unfortunate as to be
criminal by halves; and while they balance between the execution of
their designs and their remorses, their fear of punishment and their
hope of pardon, they render themselves an easy prey to their enemies.
The duke, in order to repress the surmises spread against him, spoke
contemptuously to Elizabeth of the Scottish alliance; affirmed that his
estate in England was more valuable than the revenue of a kingdom wasted
by civil wars and factions; and declared, that when he amused himself
in his own tennis-court at Norwich amidst his friends and vassals, he
deemed himself at least a petty prince, and was fully satisfied with
his condition.[*] Finding that he did not convince her by these
asseverations, and that he was looked on with a jealous eye by the
ministers, he retired to his country seat without taking leave.[**] He
soon after repented of this measure, and set out on his return to court,
with a view of using every expedient to regain the queen's good graces;
but he was met at St. Albans by Fitz-Garret, lieutenant of the band of
pensioners by whom he was conveyed to Burnham, three miles from Windsor,
where the court then resided.[***]

* Camden, p. 420

** Haynes, p. 528.

*** Haynes, p. 339.

He was soon after committed to the Tower, under the custody of Sir Henry
Nevil. [*] Lesley, bishop of Ross, the queen of Scots' ambassador, was
examined, and confronted with Norfolk before the council.[**] The
earl of Pembroke was confined to his own house: Arundel, Lumley, and
Throgmorton were taken into custody. The queen of Scots herself was
removed to Coventry; all access to her was, during some time, more
strictly prohibited; and Viscount Hereford was joined to the earls of
Shrewsbury and Huntingdon in the office of guarding her.

A rumor had been diffused in the north of an intended rebellion; and
the earl of Sussex, president of York, alarmed with the danger, sent
for Northumberland and Westmoreland, in order to examine them: but not
finding any proof against them, he allowed them to depart. The report,
meanwhile, gained ground daily; and many appearances of its reality
being discovered, orders were despatched by Elizabeth to these two
noblemen, to appear at court, and answer for their conduct.[***] They
had already proceeded so far in their criminal designs, that they dared
not to trust themselves in her hands: they had prepared measures for
a rebellion; had communicated their design to Mary and her
ministers;[****] had entered into a correspondence with the duke of
Alva, governor of the Low Countries; had obtained his promise of a
reënforcement of troops, and of a supply of arms and ammunition; and
had prevailed on him to send over to London Chiapino Vitelii, one of his
most famous captains, on pretence of adjusting some differences with
the queen, but in reality with a view of putting him at the head of the
northern rebels.

* Camden, p. 421. Haynes, p. 540.

** Lesley, p. 80.

*** Haynes, p. 552.

**** Haynes, 595. Strype, vol. ii. Append, p. 30. MS. in the
Ad socates' Library from Cott. Lib. Cal. c. 9.

The summons sent to the two earls precipitated the rising before they
were fully prepared; and Northumberland remained in suspense between
opposite dangers, when he was informed that some of his enemies were on
the way with a commission to arrest him. He took horse instantly, and
hastened to his associate Westmoreland, whom he found surrounded with
his friends and vassals, and deliberating with regard to the measures
which he should follow in the present emergence. They determined to
begin the insurrection without delay; and the great credit of these two
noblemen, with that zeal for the catholic religion which still prevailed
in the neighborhood, soon drew together multitudes of the common people.
They published a manifesto, in which they declared that they intended
to attempt nothing against the queen, to whom they vowed unshaken
allegiance: and that their sole aim was to reëstablish the religion of
their ancestors, to remove evil counsellors, and to restore the duke
of Norfolk and other faithful peers to their liberty and to the queen's
favor.[*] The number of the malecontents amounted to four thousand foot
and sixteen hundred horse; and they expected the concurrence of all the
Catholics in England.[**]

The queen was not negligent in her own defence, and she had beforehand,
from her prudent and wise conduct, acquired the general good will of
her people, the best security of a sovereign; insomuch that even the
Catholics in most counties expressed an affection for her service;[***]
and the duke of Norfolk himself, though he had lost her favor, and lay
in confinement, was not wanting, as far as his situation permitted, to
promote the levies among his friends and retainers. Sussex, attended
by the earls of Rutland, the lords Hunsdon, Evers, and Willoughby of
Parham, marched against the rebels at the head of seven thousand men,
and found them already advanced to the bishopric of Durham, of which
they had taken possession. They retired before him to Hexham; and
hearing that the earl of Warwick and Lord Clinton were advancing against
them with a greater body, they found no other resource than to disperse
themselves without striking a blow. The common people retired to
their houses: the leaders fled into Scotland. Northumberland was found
skulking in that country, and was confined by Murray in the Castle of
Lochlevin. Westmoreland received shelter from the chieftains of the Kers
and Scots, partisans of Mary; and persuaded them to make an inroad into
England, with a view of exciting a quarrel between the two kingdoms.
After they had committed great ravages, they retreated to their own
country. This sudden and precipitate rebellion was followed soon after
by another still more imprudent, raised by Leonard Uacres. Lord Hunsdon,
at the head of the garrison of Berwick, was able, without any other
assistance, to quell these rebels. Great severity was exercised against
such as had taken part in these rash enterprises. Sixty-six petty
constables were hanged;[****] and no less than eight hundred persons are
said, on the whole, to have suffered by the hands of the executioner.[v]

* Cabala, p. 169. Strype, vol. i. p. 547.

** Stowe, p. 663.

*** Cabala, p, 170. Digges, p. 4.

**** Camden, p, 423.

v Lesley, p. 82.

But the queen was so well pleased with Norfolk's behavior, that she
released him from the Tower; allowed him to live, though under some show
of confinement, in his own house; and only exacted a promise from
him not to proceed any further in his negotiations with the queen of
Scots.[*]

Elizabeth now found that the detention of Mary was attended with all
the ill consequences which she had foreseen when she first embraced that
measure. This latter princess recovering, by means of her misfortunes
and her own natural good sense, from that delirium into which she seems
to have been thrown during her attachment to Bothwell, had behaved
with such modesty and judgment, and even dignity, that every one who
approached her was charmed with her demeanor; and her friends were
enabled, on some plausible grounds, to deny the reality of all those
crimes which had been imputed to her.[**]

* Lesley, p. 98. Camden, p. 429. Haynes, p. 597.

** Lesley, p. 232. Haynes, p. 511, 548.

Compassion for her situation, and the necessity of procuring her
liberty, proved an incitement among all her partisans to be active
in promoting her cause; and as her deliverance from captivity, it was
thought, could nowise be effected but by attempts dangerous to
the established government, Elizabeth had reason to expect little
tranquillity so long as the Scottish queen remained a prisoner in her
hands. But as this inconvenience had been preferred to the danger of
allowing that princess to enjoy her liberty, and to seek relief in
all the Catholic courts of Europe, it behoved the queen to support the
measure which she had adopted, and to guard, by every prudent expedient,
against the mischiefs to which it was exposed. She still flattered Mary
with hopes of her protection, maintained an ambiguous conduct between
that queen and her enemies in Scotland, negotiated perpetually
concerning the terms of her restoration, made constant professions of
friendship to her; and by these artifices endeavored, both to prevent
her from making any desperate efforts for her deliverance, and to
satisfy the French and Spanish ambassadors, who never intermitted their
solicitations, sometimes accompanied with menaces, in her behalf.
This deceit was received with the same deceit by the queen of Scots:
professions of confidence were returned by professions equally
insincere: and while an appearance of friendship was maintained on both
sides, the animosity and jealousy, which had long prevailed between
them, became every day more inveterate and incurable. These two
princesses, in address, capacity, activity, and spirit, were nearly a
match for each other; but unhappily, Mary, besides her present forlorn
condition, was always inferior in personal conduct and discretion, as
well as in power, to her illustrious rival.

Elizabeth and Mary wrote at the same time letters to the regent.
The queen of Scots desired, that her marriage with Bothwell might be
examined, and a divorce be legally pronounced between them. The queen of
England gave Murray the choice of three conditions; that Mary should be
restored to her dignity on certain terms; that she should be associated
with her son, and the administration remain in the regent's hands, till
the young prince should come to years of discretion; or that she should
be allowed to live at liberty as a private person in Scotland, and
have an honorable settlement made in her favor.[*] Murray summoned a
convention of states, in order to deliberate on these proposals of the
two queens. No answer was made by them to Mary's letter, on pretence
that she had there employed the style of a sovereign, addressing herself
to her subjects; but in reality, because they saw that her request
was calculated to prepare the way for a marriage with Norfolk, or some
powerful prince, who could support her cause, and restore her to the
throne. They replied to Elizabeth that the two former conditions were so
derogatory to the royal authority of their prince, that they could not
so much as deliberate concerning them: the third alone could be
the subject of treaty. It was evident that Elizabeth, in proposing
conditions so unequal in their importance, invited the Scots to a
refusal of those which were most advantageous to Mary; and as it was
difficult, if not impossible, to adjust all the terms of the third, so
as to render it secure and eligible to all parties, it was concluded
that she was not sincere in any of them.[**]

* MSS. in the Advocates' Library. A. 329, p. 137, from Cott.
Lib. Catal. c. 1.

** Spotswood, p. 230, 231. Lesley, p. 71.

{1570.} It is pretended, that Murray had entered into a private
negotiation with the queen, to get Mary delivered into his hands;[*] and
as Elizabeth found the detention of her in England so dangerous, it
is probable that she would have been pleased, on any honorable or safe
terms, to rid herself of a prisoner who gave her so much inquietude.[**]
[15] But all these projects vanished by the sudden death of the regent,
who was assassinated in revenge of a private injury, by a gentleman of
the name of Hamilton. Murray was a person of considerable vigor,
abilities, and constancy; but though he was not unsuccessful, during his
regency, in composing the dissensions in Scotland, his talents shone out
more eminently in the beginning than in the end of his life. His manners
were rough and austere; and he possessed not that perfect integrity
which frequently accompanies, and can alone atone for, that unamiable
character.

By the death of the regent, Scotland relapsed into anarchy. Mary's
party assembled together, and made themselves masters of Edinburgh. The
castle, commanded by Kirkaldy of Grange, seemed to favor her cause; and
as many of the principal nobility had embraced that party, it became
probable, though the people were in general averse to her, that her
authority might again acquire the ascendant. To check its progress,
Elizabeth despatched Sussex with an army to the north, under color of
chastising the ravages committed by the borderers. He entered Scotland,
and laid waste the lands of the Kers and Scots, seized the Castle of
Hume, and committed hostilities on all Mary's partisans, who, he said,
had offended his mistress by harboring the English rebels. Sir William
Drury was afterwards sent with a body of troops, and he threw down
the houses of the Hamiltons, who were engaged in the same faction. The
English armies were afterwards recalled by agreement with the queen
of Scots, who promised, in return, that no French troops should
be introduced into Scotland, and that the English rebels should be
delivered up to the queen by her partisans.[***]

But though the queen, covering herself with the pretence of revenging
her own quarrel, so far contributed to support the party of the young
king of Scots, she was cautious not to declare openly against Mary;
and she even sent a request, which was equivalent to a command, to the
enemies of that princess, not to elect, during some time, a regent in
the place of Murray.[****] Lenox, the king's grandfather, was therefore
chosen temporary governor, under the title of lieutenant.

* Camden, p. 425. Lesley, p. 83.

** See note O, at the end of the volume.

*** Lesley, p. 91.

**** Spotswood, p. 240.

Hearing afterwards that Mary's partisans, instead of delivering up
Westmoreland and the other fugitives, as they had promised, had allowed
them to escape into Flanders, she permitted the king's party to give
Lenox the title of regent,[*] and she sent Randolph, as her resident, to
maintain a correspondence with him. But notwithstanding this step, taken
in favor of Mary's enemies, she never laid aside her ambiguous conduct,
nor quitted the appearance of amity to that princess. Being importuned
by the bishop of Ross and her other agents, as well as by foreign
ambassadors, she twice procured a suspension of arms between the
Scottish factions, and by that means stopped the hands of the regent,
who was likely to obtain advantages over the opposite party.[**] By
these seeming contrarieties she kept alive the factions in Scotland,
increased their mutual animosity, and rendered the whole country a scene
of devastation and of misery.[***] She had no intention to conquer the
kingdom, and consequently no interest or design to instigate the parties
against each other; but this consequence was an accidental effect of her
cautious politics, by which she was engaged, as far as possible, to
keep on good terms with the queen of Scots, and never to violate the
appearances of friendship with her, at least those of neutrality.[****]
[16]

* Spotswood, p. 241.

** Spotswood, p. 243.

*** Crawford, p. 136.

**** See note P, at the end of the volume.

The better to amuse Mary with the prospect of an accommodation, Cecil
and Sir Walter Mildmay were sent to her with proposals from Elizabeth.
The terms were somewhat rigorous, such as a captive queen might expect
from a jealous rival; and they thereby bore the greater appearance of
sincerity on the part of the English court. It was required that the
queen of Scots, besides renouncing all title to the crown of England
during the lifetime of Elizabeth, should make a perpetual league,
offensive and defensive, between the kingdoms; that she should marry no
Englishman without Elizabeth's consent, nor any other person without the
consent of the states of Scotland; that compensation should be made for
the late ravages committed in England; that justice should be executed
on the murderers of King Henry; that the young prince should be sent
into England, to be educated there; and that six hostages, all of them
noblemen, should be delivered to the queen of England, with the Castle
of Hume, and some other fortress, for the security of performance.[*]
Such were the conditions upon which Elizabeth promised to contribute her
endeavors towards the restoration of the deposed queen. The necessity of
Mary's affairs obliged her to consent to them; and the kings of France
and Spain, as well as the pope, when consulted by her, approved of her
conduct chiefly on account of the civil wars, by which all Europe was
at that time agitated, and which incapacitated the Catholic princes from
giving her any assistance.[**]

Elizabeth's commissioners proposed also to Mary a plan of accommodation
with her subjects in Scotland; and after some reasoning on that head,
it was agreed that the queen should require Lenox, the regent, to send
commissioners, in order to treat of conditions under her mediation. The
partisans of Mary boasted, that all terms were fully settled with the
court of England, and that the Scottish rebels would soon be constrained
to submit to the authority of their sovereign; but Elizabeth took care
that these rumors should meet with no credit, and that the king's party
should not be discouraged, nor sink too low in their demands. Cecil
wrote to inform the regent, that all the queen of England's proposals,
so far from being fixed and irrevocable, were to be discussed anew in
the conference; and desired him to send commissioners who should be
constant in the king's cause, and cautious not to make concessions which
might be prejudicial to their party.[***] Sussex, also, in his letters,
dropped hints to the same purpose; and Elizabeth herself said to the
abbot of Dunfermling, whom Lenox had sent to the court of England, that
she would not insist on Mary's restoration, provided the Scots could
make the justice of their cause appear to her satisfaction; and that,
even if their reasons should fall short of full conviction, she would
take effectual care to provide for their future security.[****]

* Spotswood, p. 245. Lesley p. 101.

** Lesley, p. 109, etc.

*** Spotswood, p, 246.

**** Spotswood, p. 247, 248.

{1571.} The parliament of Scotland appointed the earl of Morton and Sir
James Macgill, together with the abbot of Dunfermling, to manage the
treaty. These commissioners presented memorials, containing reasons for
the deposition of their queen; and they seconded their arguments with
examples drawn from the Scottish history, with the authority of laws,
and with the sentiments of many famous divines. The lofty ideas which
Elizabeth had entertained of the absolute, indefensible right of
sovereigns, made her be shocked with these republican topics; and she
told the Scottish commissioners, that she was no wise satisfied with
their reasons for justifying the conduct of their countrymen; and that
they might therefore, without attempting any apology, proceed to open
the conditions which they required for their security.[*] They replied
that their commission did not empower them to treat of any terms which
might infringe the title and sovereignty of their young king; but they
would gladly hear whatever proposals should be made them by her majesty.
The conditions recommended by the queen were not disadvantageous
to Mary; but as the commissioners still insisted that they were not
authorized to treat in any manner concerning the restoration of that
princess,[**] the conferences were necessarily at an end; and Elizabeth
dismissed the Scottish commissioners, with injunctions that they
should return, after having procured more ample powers from their
parliament.[***] The bishop of Ross openly complained to the English
council that they had abused his mistress by fair promises and
professions; and Mary herself was no longer at a loss to judge of
Elizabeth's insincerity. By reason of these disappointments, matters
came still nearer to extremities between the two princesses; and the
queen of Scots, finding all her hopes eluded, was more strongly incited
to make, at all hazards, every possible attempt for her liberty and
security.

An incident also happened about this time, which tended to widen the
breach between Mary and Elizabeth, and to increase the vigilance and
jealousy of the latter princess. Pope Pius V., who had succeeded Paul,
after having endeavored in vain to conciliate by gentle means the
friendship of Elizabeth, whom his predecessor's violence had irritated,
issued at last a bull of excommunication against her, deprived her of
all title to the crown, and absolved her subjects from their oaths of
allegiance.[****]

* Spotswood, p. 248, 249.

** Haynes, p. 623.

*** Spotswood. p. 249, 250, etc. Lesley, p. 133, 136.
Camden, p, 431, 432.

**** Camden, p. 427.

It seems probable that this attack on the queen's authority was made in
concert with Mary, who intended by that means to forward the northern
rebellion; a measure which was at that time in agitation.[*] John Felton
affixed this bull to the gates of the bishop of London's palace; and
scorning either to fly or to deny the fact, he was seized and condemned
and received the crown of martyrdom, for which he seems to have
entertained so violent an ambition.[**]

A new parliament, after five years' interval, was assembled at
Westminster; and as the queen, by the rage of the pope against her, was
become still more the head of the ruling party, it might be expected,
both from this incident and from her own prudent and vigorous
conduct, that her authority over the two houses would be absolutely
uncontrollable. It was so in fact; yet is it remarkable, that it
prevailed not without some small opposition; and that too arising
chiefly from the height of zeal for Protestantism; a disposition of the
English which, in general, contributed extremely to increase the queen's
popularity. We shall be somewhat particular in relating the transactions
of this session, because they show, as well the extent of the royal
power during that age, as the character of Elizabeth, and the genius of
her government. It will be curious also to observe the faint dawn of the
spirit of liberty among the English, the jealousy with which that
spirit was repressed by the sovereign, the imperious conduct which was
maintained in opposition to it, and the ease with which it was subdued
by this arbitrary princess.

The lord keeper Bacon, after the speaker of the commons was elected,
told the parliament, in the queen's name, that she enjoined them not to
meddle with any matters of state:[***] such was his expression; by
which he probably meant, the questions of the queen's marriage, and the
succession, about which they had before given her some uneasiness; for
as to the other great points of government, alliances, peace and war,
or foreign negotiations, no parliament in that age ever presumed to take
them under consideration, or question, in these particulars, the conduct
of their sovereign, or of his ministers.

In the former parliament, the Puritans had introduced seven bills for a
further reformation in religion; but they had not been able to prevail
in any one of them.[****] This house of commons had sitten a very few
days, when Stricland, a member, revived one of the bills--that for the
amendment of the liturgy.[v]

* Camden, p. 441, from Cajetanus's Life of Pius V.

** Camden, p. 428.

*** D'Ewes, p. 141.

**** D'Ewes, p. 185.

v D'Ewes p. 156, 157.

The chief objection which he mentioned, was the sign of the cross
in baptism. Another member added the kneeling at the sacrament; and
remarked, that if a posture of humiliation were requisite in that act of
devotion, it were better that the communicants should throw themselves
prostrate on the ground, in order to keep at the widest distance from
former superstition.[*]

Religion was a point of which Elizabeth was, if possible, still more
jealous than of matters of state. She pretended, that in quality of
supreme head or governor of the church, she was fully empowered, by her
prerogative alone, to decide all questions which might arise with regard
to doctrine, discipline, or worship; and she never would allow her
parliaments so much as to take these points into consideration.[**] The
courtiers did not forget to insist on this topic: the treasurer of
the household, though he allowed that any heresy might be repressed by
parliament, (a concession which seems to have been rash and unguarded,
since the act investing the crown with the supremacy, or rather
recognizing that prerogative, gave the sovereign full power to reform
all heresies,) yet he affirmed, that it belonged to the queen alone,
as head of the church, to regulate every question of ceremony in
worship.[***] The comptroller seconded this argument; insisted on the
extent of the queen's prerogative; and said that the house might, from
former examples, have taken warning not to meddle with such matters. One
Pistor opposed these remonstrances of the courtiers. He was scandalized,
he said, that affairs of such infinite consequence (namely, kneeling,
and making the sign of the cross) should be passed over so lightly.
These questions, he added, concern the salvation of souls, and interest
every one more deeply than the monarchy of the whole world. This cause
he showed to be the cause of God; the rest were all but terrene, yea,
trifles in comparison, call them ever so great: subsidies, crowns,
kingdoms, he knew not what weight they had, when laid in the balance
with subjects of such unspeakable importance.[****] Though the zeal of
this member seems to have been approved of, the house, overawed by
the prerogative, voted upon the question, that a petition should be
presented to her majesty for her license to proceed further in this
bill; and in the mean time that they should stop all debate or reasoning
concerning it.[v]

* D'Ewes, p. 167.

** D'Ewes, p. 158.

*** D'Ewes, p. 166.

**** D'Ewes, p. 166.

v D'Ewes, p. 167.

Matters would probably have rested here, had not the queen been so
highly offended with Stricland's presumption in moving the bill for
reformation of the liturgy, that she summoned him before the council,
and prohibited him thenceforth from appearing in the house of
commons.[*] This act of power was too violent even for the submissive
parliament to endure. Carleton took notice of the matter; complained
that the liberties of the house were invaded; observed that Stricland
was not a private man, but represented a multitude: and moved that he
might be sent for, and if he were guilty of any offence, might answer
for it at the bar of the house, which he insinuated to be the only
competent tribunal.[**] Yelverton enforced the principles of liberty
with still greater boldness. He said, that the precedent was dangerous;
and though, in this happy time of lenity, among so many good and
honorable personages as were at present invested with authority, nothing
of extremity or injury was to be apprehended, yet the times might alter;
what now is permitted, might hereafter be construed as duty, and might
be enforced even on the ground of the present permission. He added, that
all matters not treasonable, or which implied not "too much" derogation
of the imperial crown, might, without offence, be introduced into
parliament; where every question that concerned the community must be
considered, and where even the right of the crown itself must finally be
determined. He remarked, that men sat not in that house in their private
capacities, but as elected by their country; and though it was proper
that the prince should retain his prerogative, yet was that prerogative
limited by law: as the sovereign could not of himself make laws, neither
could he break them merely from his own authority.[***]

* D'Ewes, p. 175.

** D'Ewes, p. 175.

*** D'Ewes, p. 175, 176.

These principles were popular, and noble, and generous; but the open
assertion of them was, at this time, somewhat new in England; and the
courtiers were more warranted by present practice, when they advanced
a contrary doctrine. The treasurer warned the house to be cautious in
their proceedings; neither to venture further than their assured warrant
might extend, nor hazard their good opinion with her majesty in any
doubtful cause. The member, he said, whose attendance they required,
was not restrained on account of any liberty of speech, but for his
exhibiting a bill in the house against the prerogative of the queen; a
temerity which was not to be tolerated. And he concluded with observing,
that even speeches made in that house had been questioned and examined
by the sovereign.[*] Cleere, another member, remarked, that the
sovereign's prerogative is not so much as disputable, and that the
safety of the queen is the safety of the subject. He added, that in
questions of divinity, every man was for his instruction to repair to
his ordinary; and he seems to insinuate, that the bishops themselves,
for their instruction, must repair to the queen.[**] Fleetwood observed,
that in his memory, he knew a man who, in the fifth of the present
queen, had been called to account for a speech in the house. But lest
this example should be deemed too recent, he would inform them, from the
parliament rolls, that, in the reign of Henry V., a bishop was committed
to prison by the king's command, on account of his freedom of speech;
and the parliament presumed not to go further than to be humble suitors
for him: in the subsequent reign, the speaker himself was committed,
with another member; and the house found no other remedy than a like
submissive application. He advised the house to have recourse to the
same expedient, and not to presume either to send for their member, or
demand him as of right.[***] During this speech, those members of the
privy council who sat in the house whispered together; upon which
the speaker moved that the house should make stay of all further
proceedings: a motion which was immediately complied with. The queen,
finding that the experiment which she had made was likely to excite a
great ferment, saved her honor by this silence of the house; and lest
the question might be resumed, she sent next day to Stricland her
permission to give his attendance in parliament.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 175.

** D'Ewes, p. 175.

*** D'Ewes, p. 176.

**** D'Ewes, p. 176.

Notwithstanding this rebuke from the throne, the zeal of the commons
still engaged them to continue the discussion of those other bills which
regarded religion; but they were interrupted by a still more arbitrary
proceeding of the queen, in which the lords condescended to be her
instruments. This house sent a message to the commons, desiring that
a committee might attend them. Some members were appointed for that
purpose; and the upper house informed them, that the queen's majesty,
being informed of the articles of reformation which they had canvassed,
approved of them, intended to publish them, and to make the bishops
execute them by virtue of her royal authority, as supreme head of the
church of England; but that she would not permit them to be treated
of in parliament.[*] The house, though they did not entirely stop
proceedings on account of this injunction, seem to have been nowise
offended at such haughty treatment; and in the issue, all the bills came
to nothing.

A motion made by Robert Bell, a Puritan, against an exclusive patent
granted to a company of merchants in Bristol,[**] gave also occasion to
several remarkable incidents. The queen, some days after the motion was
made, sent orders, by the mouth of the speaker, commanding the house
to spend little time in motions, and to avoid long speeches. All the
members understood that she had been offended, because a matter had been
moved which seemed to touch her prerogative.[***] Fleetwood accordingly
spoke of this delicate subject. He observed, that the queen had a
prerogative of granting patents; that to question the validity of any
patent was to invade the royal prerogative; that all foreign trade
was entirely subjected to the pleasure of the sovereign; that even the
statute which gave liberty of commerce, admitted of all prohibitions
from the crown; and that the prince, when he granted an exclusive
patent, only employed the power vested in him, and prohibited all others
from dealing in any particular branch of commerce. He quoted the clerk
of the parliament's book to prove, that no man might speak in parliament
of the statute of wills, unless the king first gave license; because the
royal prerogative in the wards was thereby touched. He showed, likewise,
the statutes of Edward I., Edward III., and Henry IV., with a saving of
the prerogative. And in Edward VI.'s time, the protector was applied to
for his allowance to mention matters of prerogative.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 180, 185.

** D'Ewes, p. 185.

*** D'Ewes, p. 159.

**** D'Ewes, p. 160.

Sir Humphrey Gilbert, the gallant and renowned sea adventurer, carried
these topics still further. He endeavored to prove the motion made by
Bell to be a vain device, and perilous to be treated of; since it tended
to the derogation of the prerogative imperial, which whoever should
attempt so much as in fancy, could not, he said, be otherwise accounted
than an open enemy. For what difference is there between saying, that
the queen is not to use the privilege of the crown and saying, that she
is not queen? And though experience has shown so much clemency in her
majesty, as might, perhaps, make subjects forget their duty, it is not
good to sport or venture too much with princes. He reminded them of the
fable of the hare, who, upon the proclamation that all horned beasts
should depart the court, immediately fled, lest his ears should be
construed to be horns; and by this apologue he seems to insinuate, that
even those who heard or permitted such dangerous speeches, would not
themselves be entirely free from danger. He desired them to beware, lest
if they meddled further with these matters, the queen might look to
her own power; and finding herself able to suppress their challenged
liberty, and to exert an arbitrary authority, might imitate the example
of Lewis XI. of France, who, as he termed it, delivered the crown from
wardship.[*]

Though this speech gave some disgust, nobody, at the time, replied any
thing, but that Sir Humphrey mistook the meaning of the house, and of
the member who made the motion: they never had any other purpose, than
to represent their grievances, in due and seemly form, unto her majesty.
But in a subsequent debate, Peter Wentworth, a man of a superior free
spirit, called that speech an insult on the house; noted Sir Humphrey's
disposition to flatter and fawn on the prince; compared him to the
chameleon, which can change itself into all colors, except white; and
recommended to the house a due care of liberty of speech, and of the
privileges of parliament.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 168.

** D'Ewes, p. 175.

It appears, on the whole, that the motion against the exclusive patent
had no effect. Bell, the member who first introduced it, was sent for by
the council, and was severely reprimanded for his temerity. He returned
to the house with such an amazed countenance, that all the members, well
informed of the reason, were struck with terror; and during some time no
one durst rise to speak of any matter of importance, for fear of giving
offence to the queen and council. Even after the fears of the commons
were somewhat abated, the members spoke with extreme precaution; and
by employing most of their discourse in preambles and apologies, they
showed their conscious terror of the rod which hung over them. Wherever
any delicate point was touched, though ever so gently; nay, seemed to
be approached, though at ever so great a distance; the whisper ran about
the house, "The queen will be offended; the council will be extremely
displeased:" and by these surmises men were warned of the danger to
which they exposed themselves. It is remarkable that the patent, which
the queen defended with such imperious violence, was contrived for the
profit of four courtiers, and was attended with the utter ruin of seven
or eight thousand of her industrious subjects.[*]

Thus every thing which passed the two houses was extremely respectful
and submissive; yet did the queen think it incumbent on her, at the
conclusion of the session, to check and that with great severity, those
feeble efforts of liberty which had appeared in the motions and speeches
of some members. The lord keeper told the commons, in her majesty's
name, that though the majority of the lower house had shown themselves
in their proceedings discreet and dutiful, yet a few of them had
discovered a contrary character, and had justly merited the reproach of
audacious, arrogant, and presumptuous: contrary to their duty, both as
subjects and parliament men; nay, contrary to the express injunctions
given them from the throne at the beginning of the session; injunctions
which it might well become them to have better attended to; they had
presumed to call in question her majesty's grants and prerogatives. But
her majesty warns them, that since they thus wilfully forget themselves,
they are otherwise to be admonished: some other species of correction
must be found for them; since neither the commands of her majesty,
nor the example of their wiser brethren, can reclaim their audacious,
arrogant, and presumptuous folly, by which they are thus led to meddle
with what nowise belongs to them, and what lies beyond the compass of
their understanding.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 242.

** D'Ewes, p. 151

In all these transactions appears clearly the opinion which Elizabeth
had entertained of the duty and authority of parliaments. They were not
to canvass any matters of state; still less were they to meddle with the
church. Questions of either kind were far above their reach, and were
appropriated to the prince alone, or to those councils and ministers
with whom he was pleased to intrust them. What then was the office of
parliaments? They might give directions for the due tanning of leather,
or milling of cloth; for the preservation of pheasants and partridges;
for the reparation of bridges and highways; for the punishment of
vagabonds or common beggars. Regulations concerning the police of the
country came properly under their inspection; and the laws of this
kind which they prescribed, had, if not a greater, yet a more durable
authority, than those which were derived solely from the proclamations
of the sovereign. Precedents or reports could fix a rule for decisions
in private property, or the punishment of crimes; but no alteration or
innovation in the municipal law could proceed from any other source than
the parliament; nor would the courts of justice be induced to change
their established practice by an order of council. But the most
acceptable part of parliamentary proceedings was the granting of
subsidies; the attainting and punishing of the obnoxious nobility, or
any minister of state after his fall; the countenancing of such great
efforts of power, as might be deemed somewhat exceptionable, when they
proceeded entirely from the sovereign. The redress of grievances were
sometimes promised to the people; but seldom could have place, while it
was an established rule, that the prerogatives of the crown must not
be abridged, or so much as questioned and examined in parliament.
Even though monopolies and exclusive companies had already reached an
enormous height, and were every day increasing to the destruction of all
liberty, and extinction of all industry, it was criminal in a member
to propose, in the most dutiful and regular manner, a parliamentary
application against any of them.

These maxims of government were not kept secret by Elizabeth, nor
smoothed over by any fair appearances or plausible pretences. They
were openly avowed in her speeches and messages to parliament; and
were accompanied with all the haughtiness, nay, sometimes bitterness of
expression, which the meanest servant could look for from his offended
master. Yet, notwithstanding this conduct, Elizabeth continued to be the
most popular sovereign that ever swayed the sceptre of England; because
the maxims of her reign were conformable to the principles of the
times, and to the opinion generally entertained with regard to the
constitution. The continued encroachments of popular assemblies on
Elizabeth's successors have so changed our ideas in these matters, that
the passages above mentioned appear to us extremely curious, and even,
at first, surprising; but they were so little remarked, during the
time, that neither Camden, though a contemporary writer, nor any other
historian, has taken any notice of them. So absolute, indeed, was the
authority of the crown, that the precious spark of liberty had been
kindled, and was preserved, by the Puritans alone; and it was to this
sect, whose principles appear so frivolous, and habits so ridiculous,
that the English owe the whole freedom of their constitution. Actuated
by that zeal which belongs to innovators, and by the courage which
enthusiasm inspires, they hazarded the utmost indignation of their
sovereign, and employing all their industry to be elected into
parliament,--a matter not difficult while a seat was rather regarded
as a burden than an advantage--they first acquired a majority in that
assembly, and then obtained an ascendent over the church and monarchy.

The following were the principal laws enacted this session. It was
declared treason, during the lifetime of the queen, to affirm that she
was not the lawful sovereign, or that any other possessed a preferable
title, or that she was a heretic, schismatic, or infidel, or that the
laws and statutes cannot limit and determine the right of the crown and
the successor thereof: to maintain, in writing or printing, that any
person, except the "natural issue" of her body, is, or ought to be, the
queen's heir or successor, subjected the person and all his abettors,
for the first offence, to imprisonment during a year, and to the
forfeiture of half their goods: the second offence subjected them to
the penalty of a præmunire.[*] This law was plainly levelled against the
queen of Scots and her partisans; and implied an avowal, that Elizabeth
never intended to declare her successor. It may be noted, that the usual
phrase of "lawful issue," which the parliament thought indecent towards
the queen, as if she could be supposed to have any other, was changed
into that of "natural issue." But this alteration was the source of
pleasantry during the time; and some suspected a deeper design, as
if Leicester intended, in case of the queen's demise, to produce some
bastard of his own, and affirm that he was her offspring.[**]

* 13 Eliz. c. I.

** Camden, p. 436.

It appeared this session, that a bribe of four pounds had
been given to a mayor for a seat in parliament. D'Ewes, p.
181. It is probable that the member had no other view than
the privilege of being free from arrests.

It was also enacted, that whosoever by bulls should publish absolutions
or other rescripts of the pope, or should, by means of them, reconcile
any man to the church of Rome, such offenders, as well as those who were
so reconciled, should be guilty of treason. The penalty of a præmunire
was imposed on every one who imported any Agnus Dei, crucifix, or such
other implement of superstition, consecrated by the pope.[*] The former
laws against usury were enforced by a new statute.[**] A supply of one
subsidy and two fifteenths was granted by parliament. The queen, as she
was determined to yield to them none of her power, was very cautious in
asking them for any supply. She endeavored, either by a rigid frugality
to make her ordinary revenues suffice for the necessities of the crown,
or she employed her prerogative, and procured money by the granting of
patents, monopolies, or by some such ruinous expedient.

* 13 Eliz. c. 2.

** 13 Eliz. c. 8.

Though Elizabeth possessed such uncontrolled authority over her
parliaments, and such extensive influence over her people; though,
during a course of thirteen years, she had maintained the public
tranquillity, which was only interrupted by the hasty and ill-concerted
insurrection in the north; she was still kept in great anxiety, and felt
her throne perpetually totter under her. The violent commotions excited
in France and the Low Countries, as well as in Scotland, seemed in one
view to secure her against any disturbance; but they served, on more
reflection, to instruct her in the danger of her situation, when
she remarked that England, no less than these neighboring countries,
contained the seeds of intestine discord; the differences of religious
opinion, and the furious intolerance and animosity of the opposite
sectaries.

The league, formed at Bayonne in 1566, for the extermination of the
Protestants, had not been concluded so secretly but intelligence of it
had reached Condé, Coligny, and the other leaders of the Hugonots; and
finding that the measures of the court agreed with their suspicions,
they determined to prevent the cruel perfidy of their enemies, and
to strike a blow before the Catholics were aware of the danger. The
Hugonots, though dispersed over the whole kingdom, formed a kind of
separate empire; and being closely united, as well by their religious
zeal as by the dangers to which they were perpetually exposed, they
obeyed with entire submission the orders of their leaders, and were
ready on every signal to fly to arms. The king and queen mother
were living in great security at Monceaux, in Brie, when they found
themselves surrounded by Protestant troops, which had secretly marched
thither from all quarters; and had not a body of Swiss come speedily to
their relief, and conducted them with great intrepidity to Paris,
they must have fallen, without resistance, into the hands of the
malecontents. A battle was afterwards fought in the plains of St.
Denis; where, though the old constable, Montmorency, the general of the
Catholics, was killed combating bravely at the head of his troops, the
Hugonots were finally defeated. Condé, collecting his broken forces and
receiving a strong reënforcement from the German Protestants, appeared
again in the field; and laying siege to Chartres, a place of great
importance, obliged the court to agree to a new accommodation.

So great was the mutual animosity of those religionists, that even had
the leaders on both sides been ever so sincere in their intentions for
peace, and reposed ever so much confidence in each other, it would have
been difficult to retain the people in tranquillity; much more where
such extreme jealousy prevailed, and where the court employed every
pacification as a snare for their enemies. A plan was laid for seizing
the person of the prince and admiral; who narrowly escaped to Rochelle,
and summoned their partisans to their assistance.[*]

* Davila, lib. iv.

The civil wars were renewed with greater fury than ever, and the parties
became still more exasperated against each other. The young duke of
Anjou, brother to the king, commanded the forces of the Catholics; and
fought in 1569, a great battle at Jarnac with the Hugonots, where the
prince of Condé was killed, and his army defeated. This discomfiture,
with the loss of so great a leader, reduced not the Hugonots to despair.
The admiral still supported the cause; and having placed at the head of
the Protestants the prince of Navarre, then sixteen years of age, and
the young prince of Condé, he encouraged the party rather to perish
bravely in the field, than ignominiously by the hands of the
executioner. He collected such numbers, so determined to endure every
extremity, that he was enabled to make head against the duke of Anjou;
and being strengthened by a new reënforcement of Germans, he obliged
that prince to retreat and to divide his forces.

Coligny then laid siege to Poietiers; and as the eyes of all France were
fixed on this enterprise, the duke of Guise, emulous of the renown which
his father had acquired by the defence of Metz, threw himself into the
place, and so animated the garrison by his valor and conduct, that the
admiral was obliged to raise the siege. Such was the commencement of
that unrivalled fame and grandeur afterwards attained by this duke of
Guise. The attachment which all the Catholics had borne to his father,
was immediately transferred to the son; and men pleased themselves in
comparing all the great and shining qualities which seemed, in a manner,
hereditary in that family. Equal in affability, in munificence, in
address, in eloquence, and in every quality which engages the affections
of men; equal also in valor, in conduct, in enterprise, in capacity;
there seemed only this difference between them, that the son, educated
in more turbulent times, and finding a greater dissolution of all law
and order, exceeded the father in ambition and temerity, and was engaged
in enterprises still more destructive to the authority of his sovereign,
and to the repose of his native country.

Elizabeth, who kept her attention fixed on the civil commotions of
France, was nowise pleased with this new rise of her enemies, the
Guises; and being anxious for the fate of the Protestants,
whose interests were connected with her own,[*] she was engaged,
notwithstanding her aversion from all rebellion, and from all opposition
to the will of the sovereign, to give them secretly some assistance.
Besides employing her authority with the German princes, she lent money
to the queen of Navarre, and received some jewels as pledges for the
loan. And she permitted Henry Champernon to levy, and transport over
into France, a regiment of a hundred gentlemen volunteers; among whom
Walter Raleigh, then a young man, began to distinguish himself, in that
great school of military valor.[**]

* Haynes, p. 471.

** Camden, p. 423.

The admiral, constrained by the impatience of his troops, and by the
difficulty of subsisting them, fought with the duke of Anjou the battle
of Moncontour in Poictou, where he was wounded and defeated. The court
of France, notwithstanding their frequent experience of the obstinacy of
the Hugonots, and the vigor of Coligny, vainly flattered themselves
that the force of the rebels was at last finally annihilated; and they
neglected further preparations against a foe, who, they thought, could
never more become dangerous. They were surprised to hear, that this
leader had appeared, without dismay, in another quarter of the kingdom;
had encouraged the young princes, whom he governed to like constancy;
had assembled an army; had taken the field; and was even strong enough
to threaten Paris. The public finances, diminished by the continued
disorders of the kingdom, and wasted by so many fruitless military
enterprises, could no longer bear the charge of a new armament, and the
king, notwithstanding his extreme animosity against the Hugonots, was
obliged, in 1570, to conclude an accommodation with them, to grant them
a pardon for all past offences, and to renew the edicts for liberty of
conscience.

Though a pacification was seemingly concluded, the mind of Charles was
nowise reconciled to his rebellious subjects, and this accommodation,
like all the foregoing, was nothing but a snare, by which the perfidious
court had projected to destroy at once, without danger, all its
formidable enemies. As the two young princes, the admiral, and the other
leaders of the Hugonots, instructed by past experience, discovered
an extreme distrust of the king's intentions, and kept themselves in
security at a distance, all possible artifices were employed to remove
their apprehensions, and to convince them of the sincerity of the
new counsels which seemed to be embraced. The terms of the peace were
religiously observed to them; the toleration was strictly maintained;
all attempts made by the zealous Catholics to infringe it were punished
with severity; offices, and favors, and honors were bestowed on the
principal nobility among the Protestants; and the king and council every
where declared that, tired of civil disorders, and convinced of the
impossibility of forcing men's consciences, they were thenceforth
determined to allow every one the free exercise of his religion.

Among the other artifices employed to lull the Protestants into a
fatal security, Charles affected to enter into close connections with
Elizabeth; and as it seemed not the interest of France to forward the
union of the two kingdoms of Great Britain, that princess the more
easily flattered herself that the French monarch would prefer her
friendship to that of the queen of Scots. The better to deceive her,
proposals of marriage were made her with the duke of Anjou; a prince
whose youth, beauty, and reputation for valor might naturally be
supposed to recommend him to a woman who had appeared not altogether
insensible to these endowments. The queen immediately founded on this
offer the project of deceiving the court of France; and being intent
on that artifice, she laid herself the more open to be deceived.
Negotiations were entered into with regard to the marriage; terms of the
contract were proposed; difficulties started and removed; and the
two courts, equally insincere, though not equally culpable, seemed
to approach every day nearer to each other in their demands and
concessions. The great obstacle seemed to lie in adjusting the
difference of religion; because Elizabeth, who recommended toleration to
Charles, was determined not to grant it in her own dominions, not even
to her husband; and the duke of Anjou seemed unwilling to submit, for
the sake of interest, to the dishonor of an apostasy.[*]

* Camden, p. 433. Davila, lib. v. Digger's Complete
Ambassador p. 84, 110, 111

The artificial politics of Elizabeth never triumphed so much in any
contrivances as in those which were conjoined with her coquetry; and
as her character in this particular was generally known, the court of
France thought that they might, without danger of forming any final
conclusion, venture the further in their concessions and offers to
her. The queen also had other motives for dissimulation. Besides
the advantage of discouraging Mary's partisans by the prospect of an
alliance between France and England, her situation with Philip
demanded her utmost vigilance and attention; and the violent authority
established in the Low Countries made her desirous of fortifying herself
even with the bare appearance of a new confederacy.

The theological controversies which had long agitated Europe, had from
the beginning penetrated into the Low Countries; and as these provinces
maintained an extensive commerce, they had early received, from
every kingdom with which they corresponded, a tincture of religious
innovation. An opinion at that time prevailed, which had been zealously
propagated by priests, and implicitly received by sovereigns, that
heresy was closely connected with rebellion, and that every great or
violent alteration in the church involved a like revolution in the civil
government. The forward zeal of the reformers would seldom allow them
to wait the consent of the magistrate to their innovations: they became
less dutiful when opposed and punished; and though their pretended
spirit of reasoning and inquiry was in reality nothing but a new species
of implicit faith, the prince took the alarm, as if so institutions
could be secure from the temerity of their researches. The emperor
Charles, who proposed to augment his authority under pretence of
defending the Catholic faith, easily adopted these political principles;
and notwithstanding the limited prerogative which he possessed in the
Netherlands, he published the most arbitrary, severe, and tyrannical
edicts against the Protestants; and he took care that the execution of
them should be no less violent and sanguinary. He was neither cruel nor
bigoted in his natural disposition; yet an historian, celebrated for
moderation and caution, has computed, that in the several persecutions
promoted by that monarch, no less than a hundred thousand persons
perished by the hands of the executioner.[*] But these severe remedies;
far from answering the purposes intended, had rather served to augment
the numbers as well as zeal of the reformers; and the magistrates of the
several towns, seeing no end of those barbarous executions, felt their
humanity rebel against their principles, and declined any further
persecution of the new doctrines.

* Grotii Annal. lib. i. Father Paul, another great
authority, computes, in a passage above cited, that fifty
thousand persons were put to death in the Low Countries
alone.

When Philip succeeded to his father's dominions, the Flemings were
justly alarmed with new apprehensions, lest their prince, observing the
lenity of the magistrates, should take the execution of the edicts
from such remiss hands, and should establish the inquisition in the Low
Countries, accompanied with all the iniquities and barbarities which
attended it in Spain. The severe and unrelenting character of the man,
his professed attachment to Spanish manners, the inflexible bigotry of
his principles; all these circumstances increased their terror; and when
he departed the Netherlands, with a known intention never to return, the
disgust of the inhabitants was extremely augmented, and their dread of
those tyrannical orders which their sovereign, surrounded with Spanish
ministers, would issue from his cabinet at Madrid. He left the duchess
of Parma governess of the Low Countries, and the plain good sense and
good temper of that princess, had she been intrusted with the sole
power, would have preserved the submission of those opulent provinces,
which were lost from that refinement of treacherous and barbarous
politics on which Philip so highly valued himself. The Flemings found,
that the name alone of regent remained with the duchess; that Cardinal
Granville entirely possessed the king's confidence; that attempts were
every day made on their liberties; that a resolution was taken never
more to assemble the states; that new bishoprics were arbitrarily
erected, in order to enforce the execution of the persecuting edicts;
and that, on the whole, they must expect to be reduced to the condition
of a province under the Spanish monarchy. The discontents of the
nobility gave countenance to the complaints of the gentry, which
encouraged the mutiny of the populace; and all orders of men showed
a strong disposition to revolt. Associations were formed, tumultuary
petitions presented, names of distinction assumed, badges of party
displayed; and the current of the people, impelled by religious zeal,
and irritated by feeble resistance, rose to such a height, that in
several towns, particularly in Antwerp, they made an open invasion on
the established worship, pillaged the churches and monasteries, broke
the images, and committed the most unwarrantable disorders.

The wiser part of the nobility, particularly the prince of Orange, and
the counts Egmont and Horn, were alarmed at these excesses, to which
their own discontents had at first given countenance; and seconding the
wisdom of the governess, they suppressed the dangerous insurrections,
punished the ringleaders, and reduced all the provinces to a state
of order and submission. But Philip was not contented with the
reëstablishment of his ancient authority: he considered that provinces
so remote from the seat of government could not be ruled by a limited
prerogative; and that a prince who must entreat rather than command,
would necessarily, when he resided not among the people, feel every day
a diminution of his power and influence. He determined, therefore,
to lay hold of the late popular disorders as a pretence for entirely
abolishing the privileges of the Low Country provinces, and for ruling
them thenceforth with a military and arbitrary authority.

In the execution of this violent design, he employed a man who was a
proper instrument in the hands of such a tyrant. Ferdinand of Toledo,
duke of Alva, had been educated amidst arms; and having attained a
consummate knowledge in the military art, his habits led him to transfer
into all government the severe discipline of a camp, and to conceive
no measures between prince and subject but those of rigid command and
implicit obedience. This general, in 1568, conducted from Italy to
the Low Countries a powerful body of veteran Spaniards; and his avowed
animosity to the Flemings, with his known character, struck that whole
people with terror and consternation. It belongs not to our subject to
relate at length those violences which Alva's natural barbarity,
steeled by reflection and aggravated by insolence, exercised on those
flourishing provinces. It suffices to say, that all their privileges,
the gift of so many princes, and the inheritance of so many ages,
were openly and expressly abolished by edict; arbitrary and sanguinary
tribunals erected; the counts Egmont and Horn, in spite of their great
merits and past services, brought to the scaffold; multitudes of
all ranks thrown into confinement, and thence delivered over to the
executioner; and notwithstanding the peaceable submission of all men,
nothing was heard of but confiscation, imprisonment, exile, torture, and
death.

Elizabeth was equally displeased to see the progress of that scheme laid
for the extermination of the Protestants, and to observe the erection of
so great a military power in a state situated in so near a neighborhood.
She gave protection to all the Flemish exiles who took shelter in her
dominions; and as many of these were the most industrious inhabitants of
the Netherlands, and had rendered that country celebrated for its
arts, she reaped the advantage of introducing into England some useful
manufactures, which were formerly unknown in that kingdom. Foreseeing
that the violent government of Alva could not long subsist without
exciting some commotion, she ventured to commit an insult upon him,
which she would have been cautious not to hazard against a more
established authority. Some Genoese merchants had engaged, by contract
with Philip, to transport into Flanders the sum of four hundred thousand
crowns; and the vessels on which this money was embarked, had been
attacked in the Channel by some privateers equipped by the French
Hugonots, and had taken shelter in Plymouth and Southampton. The
commanders of the ships pretended that the money belonged to the king of
Spain; but the queen, finding upon inquiry that it was the property of
Genoese merchants, took possession of it as a loan; and by that means
deprived the duke of Alva of this resource in the time of his greatest
necessity. Alva, in revenge, seized all the English merchants in the Low
Countries, threw them into prison, and confiscated their effects.
The queen retaliated by a like violence on the Flemish and Spanish
merchants; and gave all the English liberty to make reprisals on the
subjects of Philip.

These differences were afterwards accommodated by treaty, and mutual
reparations were made to the merchants; but nothing could repair the
loss which so well-timed a blow inflicted on the Spanish government in
the Low Countries. Alva, in want of money, and dreading the immediate
mutiny of his troops, to whom great arrears were due, imposed, by
his arbitrary will, the most ruinous taxes on the people. He not only
required the hundredth penny, and the twentieth of all immovable goods;
he also demanded the tenth of all movable goods on every sale; an absurd
tyranny, which would not only have destroyed all arts and commerce, but
even have restrained the common intercourse of life. The people refused
compliance; the duke had recourse to his usual expedient of the gibbet;
and thus matters came still nearer the last, extremities between the
Flemings and the Spaniards.[*]

All the enemies of Elizabeth, in order to revenge themselves for her
insults, had naturally recourse to one policy, the supporting of the
cause and pretensions of the queen of Scots; and Alva, whose measures
were ever violent, soon opened a secret intercourse with that princess.
There was one Rodolphi, a Florentine merchant, who had resided about
fifteen years in London, and who, while he conducted his commerce in
England, had managed all the correspondence of the court of Rome with
the Catholic nobility and gentry.[**]

* Bentivoglio, part. i. lib. v. Camden, p. 416.

** Lesley, p. 123. State Trials, vol. i. p. 87.

He had been thrown into prison at the time when the duke of Norfolk's
intrigues with Mary had been discovered; but either no proof, was found
against him, or the part which he had acted was not very criminal; and
he soon after recovered his liberty. This man, zealous for the Catholic
faith, had formed a scheme, in concert with the Spanish ambassador,
for subverting the government, by a foreign invasion and a domestic
insurrection; and when he communicated his project by letter to Mary, he
found, that as she was now fully convinced of Elizabeth's artifices,
and despaired of ever recovering her authority, or even her liberty, by
pacific measures, she willingly gave her concurrence. The great number
of discontented Catholics were the chief source of their hopes on the
side of England and they also observed that the kingdom was at that
time full of indigent gentry, chiefly younger brothers, who, having at
present, by the late decay of the church, and the yet languishing state
of commerce, no prospect of a livelihood suitable to their birth, were
ready to throw themselves into any desperate enterprise.[*] But in
order to inspire life and courage into all these malecontents, it was
requisite that some great nobleman should put himself at their head; and
no one appeared to Rodolphi, and to the bishop of Ross, who entered into
all these intrigues, so proper, both on account of his power and his
popularity, as the duke of Norfolk.

This nobleman, when released from confinement in the Tower, had given
his promise, that he would drop all intercourse with the queen of
Scots;[**] but finding that he had lost, and, as he feared, beyond
recovery, the confidence and favor of Elizabeth, and being still in some
degree restrained from his liberty, he was tempted, by impatience and
despair, to violate his word, and to open anew his correspondence with
the captive princess.[***] A promise of marriage was renewed between
them; the duke engaged to enter into all her interests; and as his
remorses gradually diminished in the course of these transactions,
he was pushed to give his consent to enterprises still more criminal.
Rodolphi's plan was, that the duke of Alva should, on some other
pretence, assemble a great quantity of shipping in the Low Countries;
should transport a body of six thousand foot and four thousand horse
into England; should land them at Harwich, where the duke of Norfolk
was to join them with all his friends; should thence march directly
to London, and oblige the queen to submit to whatever terms the
conspirators should please to impose upon her.[****] Norfolk expressed
his assent to this plan; and three letters, in consequence of it, were
written in his name by Rodolphi; one to Alva, another to the pope, and
a third to the king of Spain; but the duke, apprehensive of the danger,
refused to sign them.[v]

* Lesley, p. 123.

** Haynes, p. 571.

*** State Trials, vol. i. p. 102.

**** Lesley, p. 155., State Trials, vol. i. p. 86, 87.

v Lesley, p. 159., 161. Camden, p. 432.

He only sent to the Spanish ambassador a servant and confidant, named
Barker, as well to notify his concurrence in the plan, as to vouch
for the authenticity of these letters; and Rodolphi, having obtained
a letter of credence from the ambassador, proceeded on his journey to
Brussels and to Rome. The duke of Alva and the pope embraced the scheme
with alacrity: Rodolphi informed Norfolk of their intentions;[*] and
every thing seemed to concur in forwarding the undertaking.

Norfolk, notwithstanding these criminal enterprises, had never entirely
forgotten his duty to his sovereign, his country, and his religion: and
though he had laid the plan both of an invasion and an insurrection,
he still flattered himself, that the innocence of his intentions would
justify the violence of his measures, and that, as he aimed at nothing
but the liberty of the queen of Scots, and the obtaining of Elizabeth's
consent to his marriage, he could not justly reproach himself as a rebel
and a traitor.[**] It is certain, however, that, considering the queen's
vigor and spirit, the scheme, if successful, must finally have ended in
dethroning her; and her authority was here exposed to the utmost danger.

The conspiracy hitherto had entirely escaped the vigilance of Elizabeth,
and that of Secretary Cecil, who now bore the title of Lord Burleigh. It
was from another attempt of Norfolk's that they first obtained a hint,
which, being diligently traced, led at last to a full discovery. Mary
had intended to send a sum of money to Lord Herreis and her partisans
in Scotland; and Norfolk undertook to have it delivered to Bannister,
a servant of his, at that time in the north, who was to find some
expedient for conveying it to Lord Herreis.[***] He intrusted the money
to a servant who was not in the secret, and told him, that the bag
contained a sum of money in silver, which he was to deliver to Bannister
with a letter: but the servant, conjecturing from the weight and size
of the bag that it was full of gold, carried the letter to Burleigh;
who immediately ordered Bannister, Barker, and Hicford, the duke's
secretary, to be put under arrest, and to undergo a severe examination.
Torture made them confess the whole truth; and as Hicford, though
ordered to burn all papers, had carefully kept them concealed under
the mats of the duke's chamber, and under the tiles of the house, full
evidence now appeared against his master.[****]

* State Trials, vol. i. p. 93.

** Lesley, p. 158.

*** Lesley, p. 169. State Trials, vol. i. p. 87. Camden, p.
434. Digges, p. 134, 137, 140. Strype, vol. ii. p. 82.

**** Lesley, p. 173.

Norfolk himself, who was entirely ignorant of the discoveries made by
his servants, was brought before the council; and though exhorted to
atone for his guilt by a full confession, he persisted in denying every
crime with which he was charged. The queen always declared, that if
he had given her this proof of his sincere repentance, she would have
pardoned all his former offences;[*] but finding him obstinate, she
committed him to the Tower, and ordered him to be brought to his trial.
The bishop of Ross had, on some suspicion, been committed to custody
before the discovery of Norfolk's guilt; and every expedient was
employed to make him reveal his share in the conspiracy. He at first
insisted on his privilege: but he was told, that as his mistress was no
longer a sovereign, he would not be regarded as an ambassador, and
that, even if that character were allowed, it did not warrant him in
conspiring against the sovereign at whose court he resided.[**] As
he still refused to answer interrogatories, he was informed of the
confession made by Norfolk's servants; after which he no longer scrupled
to make a full discovery; and his evidence put the guilt of that
nobleman beyond all question.

{1572.} A jury of twenty-five peers unanimously passed sentence upon
him. The trial was quite regular, even according to the strict rules
observed at present in these matters; except that the witnesses gave not
their evidence in court, and were not confronted with the prisoner; a
laudable practice, which was not at that time observed in trials for
high treason.

The queen still hesitated concerning Norfolk's execution; whether that
she was really moved by friendship and compassion towards a peer of that
rank and merit, or that, affecting the praise of clemency, she only put
on the appearance of these sentiments. Twice she signed a warrant for
his execution, and twice revoked the fatal sentence;[***] and though
her ministers and counsellors pushed her to rigor, she still appeared
irresolute and undetermined.

* Lesley, p. 175.

** Lesley, p. 189. Spotswood.

*** Carte, p. 527, from Fenelon's Despatches. Digges, p.
166. Strype, vol. ii. p. 83.

After four months' hesitation, a parliament was assembled; and the
commons addressed her in strong terms for the execution of the duke; a
sanction which, when added to the greatness and certainty of his guilt,
would, she thought, justify, in the eyes of all mankind, her severity
against that nobleman. Norfolk died with calmness and constancy; and
though he cleared himself of any disloyal intentions against the queen's
authority, he acknowledged the justice of the sentence by which he
suffered.[*] That we may relate together affairs of a similar nature,
we shall mention, that the earl of Northumberland, being delivered up
to the queen by the regent of Scotland, was also, a few months after,
brought to the scaffold for his rebellion.

The queen of Scots was either the occasion or the cause of all these
disturbances; but as she was a sovereign princess and might reasonably,
from the harsh treatment which she had met with, think herself entitled
to use any expedient for her relief, Elizabeth durst not, as yet, form
any resolution of proceeding to extremities against her. She only sent
Lord Delawar, Sir Ralph Sadler, Sir Thomas Bromley, and Dr. Wilson, to
expostulate with her, and to demand satisfaction for all those parts
of her conduct, which, from the beginning of her life, had given
displeasure to Elizabeth: her assuming the arms of England, refusing to
ratify the treaty of Edinburgh, intending to marry Norfolk without the
queen's consent, concurring in the northern rebellion,[**] practising
with Rodolphi to engage the king of Spain in an invasion of
England,[***] procuring the pope's bull of excommunication, and allowing
her friends abroad to give her the title of queen of England. Mary
justified herself from the several articles of the charge, either
by denying the facts imputed to her, or by throwing the blame on
others.[****] But the queen was little satisfied with her apology;
and the parliament was so enraged against her, that the commons made a
direct application for her immediate trial and execution. They employed
some topics derived from practice, and reason, and the laws of nations;
but the chief stress was laid on passages and examples from the Old
Testament,[v] which, if considered as a general rule of conduct,
(an intention which it is unreasonable to suppose,) would lead to
consequences destructive of all principles of humanity and morality.
Matters were here carried further than Elizabeth intended; and that
princess, satisfied with showing Mary the disposition of the nation,
sent to the house her express commands not to deal any further at
present with the affair of the Scottish queen.[v*]

* Camden, p. 440. Strype, vol. ii. App. p. 23.

** Digges, p. 16, 107. Strype, vol. ii. p. 51, 52.

*** Digges, p. 194, 208, 209. Strype, vol. ii. p. 40, 51.

**** Camden, p. 442.

v D'Ewes, p. 207, 208, etc.

v* D'Ewes, p. 219, 241.

Nothing could be a stronger proof that the puritanical interest
prevailed in the house, than the intemperate use of authorities derived
from Scripture, especially from the Old Testament; and the queen was
so little a lover of that sect, that she was not likely to make any
concession merely in deference to their solicitation. She showed, this
session, her disapprobation of their schemes in another remarkable
instance. The commons had passed two bills for regulating ecclesiastical
ceremonies; but she sent them a like imperious message with her former
ones; and by the terror of her prerogative, she stopped all further
proceeding in those matters[*]

But though Elizabeth would not carry matters to such extremities against
Mary as were recommended by the parliament, she was alarmed at the great
interest and the restless spirit of that princess, as well as her close
connections with Spain; and she thought it necessary both to increase
the rigor and strictness of her confinement, and to follow maxims
different from those which she had hitherto pursued in her management
of Scotland.[**] That kingdom remained still in a state of anarchy. The
Castle of Edinburgh, commanded by Kirkaldy of Grange, had declared for
Mary; and the lords of that party, encouraged by his countenance, had
taken possession of the capital, and carried on a vigorous war against
the regent. By a sudden and unexpected inroad, they seized that nobleman
at Stirling; but finding that his friends, sallying from the castle,
were likely to rescue him, they instantly put him to death. The earl of
Marre was chosen regent in his room, and found the same difficulties in
the government of that divided country. He was therefore glad to accept
of the mediation offered by the French and English ambassadors; and to
conclude, on equal terms, a truce with the queen's party.[***] He was a
man of free and generous spirit, and scorned to submit to any dependence
on England; and for this reason Elizabeth, who had then formed
intimate connections with France, yielded with less reluctance to
the solicitations of that court, still maintained the appearance of
neutrality between the parties, and allowed matters to remain on a
balance in Scotland.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 213, 238.

** Digges, p. 152.

*** Spotswood, p. 263.

**** Digges, p. 156, 165, 169.

But affairs soon after took a new turn: Marre died of melancholy, with
which the distracted state of the country affected him: Morton was
chosen regent; and as this nobleman had secretly taken all his measures
with Elizabeth, who no longer relied on the friendship of the French
court, she resolved to exert herself more effectually for the support
of the party which she had always favored. She sent Sir Henry Killegrew
ambassador to Scotland, who found Mary's partisans so discouraged by the
discovery and punishment of Norfolk's conspiracy, that they were glad to
submit to the king's authority, and accept of an indemnity for all past
offences.[*] The duke of Chatelrault and the earl of Huntley, with
the most considerable of Mary's friends, laid down their arms on these
conditions. The garrison alone of the Castle of Edinburgh continued
refractory. Kirkaldy's fortunes were desperate; and he flattered himself
with the hopes of receiving assistance from the kings of France and
Spain, who encouraged his obstinacy, in the view of being able, from
that quarter, to give disturbance to England. Elizabeth was alarmed with
the danger; she no more apprehended making an entire breach with the
queen of Scots, who, she found, would not any longer be amused by her
artifices; she had an implicit reliance on Morton; and she saw, that
by the submission of all the considerable nobility, the pacification of
Scotland would be an easy, as well as a most important undertaking. She
ordered, therefore, Sir William Drury, governor of Berwick, to march
with some troops and artillery to Edinburgh, and to besiege the
castle.[**]

* Spotswood, p. 268.

** Camden, p, 443.

The garrison surrendered at discretion: Kirkaldy was delivered into the
hands of his countrymen, by whom he was tried, condemned, and executed;
Secretary Lidington, who had taken part with him, died, soon after, a
voluntary death, as is supposed; and Scotland submitting entirely to
the regent, gave not, during a long time, any further inquietude to
Elizabeth.

The events which happened in France were not so agreeable to the queen's
interests and inclinations. The fallacious pacifications, which had been
so often made with the Hugonots, gave them reason to suspect the present
intentions of the court; and after all the other leaders of that party
were deceived into a dangerous credulity, the sagacious admiral still
remained doubtful and uncertain. But his suspicions were at last
overcome, partly by the profound dissimulation of Charles, partly by his
own earnest desire to end the miseries of France, and return again
to the performance of his duty towards his prince and country. He
considered, besides, that as the former violent conduct of the court had
ever met with such fatal success, it was not unlikely that a prince, who
had newly come to years of discretion, and appeared not to be rivetted
in any dangerous animosities or prejudices, would be induced to govern
himself by more moderate maxims. And as Charles was young, was of a
passionate, hasty temper, and addicted to pleasure,[*] such deep
perfidy seemed either remote from his character, or difficult and
almost impossible to be so uniformly supported by him. Moved by these
considerations, the admiral, the queen of Navarre, and all the Hugonots,
began to repose themselves in full security, and gave credit to the
treacherous caresses and professions of the French court. Elizabeth
herself, notwithstanding her great experience and penetration,
entertained not the least distrust of Charles's sincerity; and being
pleased to find her enemies of the house of Guise removed from all
authority, and to observe an animosity every day growing between the
French and Spanish monarchs, she concluded a defensive league with the
former,[**] and regarded this alliance as an invincible barrier to her
throne. Walsingham, her ambassador, sent her over, by every courier, the
most satisfactory accounts of the honor, and plain dealing, and fidelity
of that perfidious prince.

* Digges, p. 8, 39.

** Camden, p. 443.

The better to blind the jealous Hugonots, and draw their leaders into
the snare prepared for them, Charles offered his sister, Margaret,
in marriage to the prince of Navarre; and the admiral, with all the
considerable nobility of the party, had come to Paris, in order to
assist at the celebration of these nuptials, which, it was hoped, would
finally, if not compose the differences, at least appease the bloody
animosity of the two religions. The queen of Navarre was poisoned
by orders from the court; the admiral was dangerously wounded by an
assassin: yet Charles, redoubling his dissimulation, was still able
to retain the Hugonots in their security; till, on the evening of St.
Bartholomew, a few days after the marriage, the signal was given for a
general massacre of those religionists, and the king himself in person
led the way to these assassinations. The hatred long entertained by
the Parisians against the Protestants, made them second, without any
preparation, the fury of the court; and persons of every condition, age,
and sex, suspected of any propensity to that religion, were involved in
an undistinguished ruin. The admiral, his son-in-law Teligni, Soubize,
Rochefoucault, Pardaillon, Piles, Lavardin, men who, during the late
wars, had signalized themselves by the most heroic actions, were
miserably butchered without resistance; the streets of Paris flowed with
blood; and the people, more enraged than satiated with their cruelty,
as if repining that death had saved their victims from further insult,
exercised on their dead bodies all the rage of the most licentious
brutality. About five hundred gentlemen and men of rank perished in this
massacre; and near ten thousand of inferior condition.[*] Orders were
instantly despatched to all the provinces for a like general execution
of the Protestants; and in Rouen, Lyons, and many other cities, the
people emulated the fury of the capital. Even the murder of the king of
Navarre, and prince of Condé, had been proposed by the duke of Guise;
but Charles, softened by the amiable manners of the king of Navarre,
and hoping that these young princes might easily be converted to the
Catholic faith, determined to spare their lives, though he obliged them
to purchase their safety by a seeming change of their religion.

Charles, in order to cover this barbarous perfidy, pretended that
a conspiracy of the Hugonots to seize his person had been suddenly
detected; and that he had been necessitated, for his own defence, to
proceed to this severity against them. He sent orders to Fenelon, his
ambassador in England, to ask an audience, and to give Elizabeth this
account of the late transaction. That minister, a man of probity,
abhorred the treachery and cruelty of his court, and even scrupled not
to declare that he was now ashamed to bear the name of Frenchman;[**]
yet he was obliged to obey his orders, and make use of the apology which
had been prescribed to him. He met with that reception from all the
courtiers which he knew the conduct of his master had so well merited.
Nothing could be more awful and affecting than the solemnity of his
audience. A melancholy sorrow sat on every face: silence, as in the dead
of night, reigned through all the chambers of the royal apartment: the
courtiers and ladies, clad in deep mourning, were ranged on each side,
and allowed him to pass without affording him one salute or favorable
look, till he was admitted to the queen herself.[***]

* Davila, lib. v.

** Digges, p. 24[**?]

*** Carte, vol. iii. p. 522,

That princess received him with a more easy, if not a more gracious
countenance; and heard from Fenelon's Despatches, his apology, without
discovering any visible symptoms of indignation. She then told him, that
though, on the first rumor of this dreadful intelligence, she had been
astonished that so many brave men and loyal subjects, who rested secure
on the faith of their sovereign, should have been suddenly butchered
in so barbarous a manner, she had hitherto suspended her judgment, till
further and more certain information should be brought her: that
the account which he had given, even if founded on no mistake or bad
information, though it might alleviate, would by no means remove the
blame of the king's counsellors, or justify the strange irregularity of
their proceedings: that the same force which, without resistance, had
massacred so many defenceless men, could easily have secured their
persons, and have reserved them for a trial, and for punishment by a
legal sentence, which would have distinguished the innocent from the
guilty: that the admiral in particular, being dangerously wounded,
and environed by the guards of the king, on whose protection he seemed
entirely to rely, had no means of escape, and might surely, before his
death, have been convicted of the crimes imputed to him: that it was
more worthy of a sovereign to reserve in his own hands the sword of
justice, than to commit it to bloody murderers, who, being the declared
and mortal enemies of the persons accused, employed it without mercy and
without distinction: that if these sentiments were just, even supposing
the conspiracy of the Protestants to be real, how much more so if that
crime was a calumny of their enemies, invented for their destruction?
that if, upon inquiry, the innocence of these unhappy victims should
afterwards appear, it was the king's duty to turn his vengeance on their
defamers, who had thus cruelly abused his confidence, had murdered so
many of his brave subjects, and had done what in them lay to cover him
with everlasting dishonor: and that for her part, she should form her
judgment of his intentions by his subsequent conduct; and in the mean
time should act as desired by the ambassador and rather pity than blame
his master for the extremities to which he had been carried.[*]

* Digges, p. 247, 248.

Elizabeth was fully sensible of the dangerous situation in which she
now stood. In the massacre of Paris, she saw the result of that general
conspiracy formed for the extermination of the Protestants; and she knew
that she herself, as the head and protectress of the new religion, was
exposed to the fury and resentment of the Catholics. The violence and
cruelty of the Spaniards in the Low Countries was another branch of the
same conspiracy; and as Charles and Philip, two princes nearly allied in
perfidy and barbarity, as well as in bigotry, had now laid aside their
pretended quarrel, and had avowed the most entire friendship,[*] she had
reason, as soon as they had appeased their domestic commotions, to dread
the effects of their united counsels. The duke of Guise also, and his
family, whom Charles, in order to deceive the admiral, had hitherto
kept at a distance, had now acquired an open and entire ascendant in the
court of France; and she was sensible that these princes, from personal
as well as political reasons, were her declared and implacable enemies.
The queen of Scots, their near relation and close confederate, was the
pretender to her throne; and though detained in custody, was actuated by
a restless spirit, and, besides her foreign allies, possessed numerous
and zealous partisans in the heart of the kingdom. For these reasons
Elizabeth thought it more prudent not to reject all commerce with the
French monarch, but still to listen to the professions of friendship
which he made her. She allowed even the negotiations to be renewed for
her marriage with the duke of Alençon, Charles's third brother:[**]
those with the duke of Anjou had already been broken off. She sent
the earl of Worcester to assist in her name at the baptism of a young
princess, born to Charles; but before she agreed to give him this last
mark of condescension, she thought it becoming her dignity to renew her
expressions of blame, and even of detestation, against the cruelties
exercised on his Protestant subjects.[***] Meanwhile, she prepared
herself for that attack which seemed to threaten her from the combined
power and violence of the Romanists: she fortified Portsmouth, put her
fleet in order, exercised her militia, cultivated popularity with her
subjects, acted with vigor for the further reduction of Scotland under
obedience to the young king, and renewed her alliance with the German
princes, who were no less alarmed than herself at these treacherous and
sanguinary measures, so universally embraced by the Catholics.

* Digges, p. 268, 282.

** Digges, passim. Camden, p. 447.

*** Digges, p. 297, 298. Camden, p. 447.

But though Elizabeth cautiously avoided coming to extremities with
Charles, the greatest security that she possessed against his violence
was derived from the difficulties which the obstinate resistance of the
Hugonots still created to him.

{1573.} Such of that sect as lived near the frontiers, immediately,
on the first news of the massacres, fled into England, Germany, or
Switzerland; where they excited the compassion and indignation of
the Protestants, and prepared themselves, with increased forces and
redoubled zeal, to return into France, and avenge the treacherous
slaughter of their brethren. Those who lived in the middle of the
kingdom took shelter in the nearest garrisons occupied by the Hugonots;
and finding that they could repose no faith in capitulations, and expect
no clemency, were determined to defend themselves to the last extremity.
The sect which Charles had hoped at one blow to exterminate, had now an
army of eighteen thousand men on foot, and possessed, in different parts
of the kingdom, above a hundred cities, castles, or fortresses;[*] nor
could that prince deem himself secure from the invasion threatened
him by all the other Protestants in Europe. The nobility and gentry of
England were roused to such a pitch of resentment, that they offered
to levy an army of twenty-two thousand foot and four thousand horse, to
transport them into France, and to maintain them six months at their own
charge: but Elizabeth, who was cautious in her measures, and who feared
to inflame further the quarrel between the two religions by these
dangerous crusades, refused her consent, and moderated the zeal of her
subjects.[**] The German princes, less political, or more secure from
the resentment of France, forwarded the levies made by the Protestants;
and the young prince of Condé, having escaped from court, put himself at
the head of these troops, and prepared to invade the kingdom. The duke
of Alençon, the king of Navarre, the family of Montmorency, and many
considerable men even among the Catholics, displeased, either on a
private or public account, with the measures of the court, favored the
progress of the Hugonots; and every thing relapsed into confusion.

{1574.} The king, instead of repenting his violent counsels, which
had brought matters to such extremities, called aloud for new
violences;[***] nor could even the mortal distemper, under which he
labored, moderate the rage and animosity by which he was actuated. He
died without male issue, at the age of twenty-five years; a prince,
whose character, containing that unusual mixture of dissimulation and
ferocity, of quick resentment and unrelenting vengeance, executed the
greatest mischiefs, and threatened still worse, both to his native
country and to all Europe.

* Digges, p. 343.

** Digges, p. 335, 341.

*** Davila, lib.

Henry, duke of Anjou, who had some time before been elected king of
Poland, no sooner heard of his brother's death, than he hastened to
take possession of the throne of France; and found the kingdom not only
involved in the greatest present disorders, but exposed to infirmities
for which it was extremely difficult to provide any suitable remedy.

{1575.} The people were divided into two theological factions, furious
from their zeal, and mutually enraged from the injuries which they had
committed or suffered; and as all faith had been violated and moderation
banished, it seemed impracticable to find any terms of composition
between them. Each party had devoted itself to leaders whose commands
had more authority than the will of the sovereign; and even the
Catholics, to whom the king was attached, were entirely conducted by the
counsels of Guise and his family. The religious connections had, on both
sides, superseded the civil; or rather, (for men will always be guided
by present interest,) two empires being secretly formed in the kingdom,
every individual was engaged by new views of interest to follow those
leaders to whom, during the course of past convulsions, he had been
indebted for his honors and preferment.

Henry, observing the low condition of the crown, had laid a scheme for
restoring his own authority, by acting as umpire between the parties, by
moderating their differences, and by reducing both to a dependence upon
himself. He possessed all the talents of dissimulation requisite for
the execution of this delicate plan; but being deficient in vigor,
application, and sound judgment, instead of acquiring a superiority over
both factions, he lost the confidence of both, and taught the partisans
of each to adhere still more closely to their particular leaders, whom
they found more cordial and sincere in the cause which they espoused.

{1576.} The Hugonots were strengthened by the accession of a German
army under the prince of Condé and Prince Casimir; but much more by the
credit and personal virtues of the king of Navarre, who, having fled
from court, had placed himself at the head of that formidable party.
Henry, in prosecution of his plan, entered into a composition with them;
and being desirous of preserving a balance between the sects, he granted
them peace on the most advantageous conditions. This was the fifth
general peace made with the Hugonots, but though it was no more sincere
on the part of the court than any of the former, it gave the highest
disgust to the Catholics; and afforded the duke of Guise the desired
pretence of declaiming against the measures, and maxims, and conduct of
the king.

That artful and bold leader took thence an occasion of reducing his
party into a more formed and regular body; and he laid the first
foundations of the famous "league," which, without paying any regard to
the royal authority, aimed at the entire suppression of the Hugonots.
Such was the unhappy condition of France, from the past severities
and violent conduct of its princes, that toleration could no longer
be admitted; and a concession for liberty of conscience, which would
probably have appeased the reformers, excited the greatest resentment in
the Catholics.

{1577.} Henry, in order to divert the force of the league from himself,
and even to elude its efforts against the Hugonots, declared himself the
head of that seditious confederacy, and took the field as leader of the
Romanists. But his dilatory and feeble measures betrayed his reluctance
to the undertaking; and after some unsuccessful attempts, he concluded
a new peace, which, though less favorable than the former to the
Protestants, gave no contentment to the Catholics. Mutual diffidence
still prevailed between the parties; the king's moderation was
suspicious to both; each faction continued to fortify itself against
that breach, which, they foresaw, must speedily ensue; theological
controversy daily whetted the animosity of the sects; and every private
injury became the ground of a public quarrel.

{1578.} The king, hoping by his artifice and subtlety to allure the
nation into a love of pleasure and repose, was himself caught in the
snare; and sinking into a dissolute indolence, wholly lost the esteem,
and, in a great measure, the affections, of his people. Instead of
advancing such men of character and abilities as were neuters between
these dangerous factions, he gave all his confidence to young, agreeable
favorites, who, unable to prop his falling authority, leaned entirely
upon it, and inflamed the general odium against his administration. The
public burdens, increased by his profuse liberality, and felt more heavy
on a disordered kingdom, became another ground of complaint: and the
uncontrolled animosity of parties, joined to the multiplicity of taxes,
rendered peace more calamitous than any open state of foreign or even
domestic hostility.

{1579.} The artifices of the king too refined to succeed, and too
frequent to be concealed; and the plain, direct, and avowed conduct of
the duke of Guise on one side, and that of the king of Navarre on the
other, drew by degrees the generality of the nation to devote themselves
without reserve to one or the other of those great leaders.

The civil commotions of France were of too general importance to be
overlooked by the other princes of Europe; and Elizabeth's foresight and
vigilance, though somewhat restrained by her frugality, led her to take
secretly some part in them. Besides employing on all occasions her good
offices in favor of the Hugonots, she had expended no inconsiderable
sums in levying that army of Germans which the prince of Condé and
Prince Casimir conducted into France;[*] and notwithstanding her
negotiations with the court, and her professions of amity, she always
considered her own interests as connected with the prosperity of the
French Protestants, and the depression of the house of Guise. Philip,
on the other hand, had declared himself protector of the league; had
entered into the closest correspondence with Guise; and had employed
all his authority in supporting the credit of that factious leader. This
sympathy of religion, which of itself begat a connection of interests,
was one considerable inducement; but that monarch had also in view the
subduing of his rebellious subjects in the Netherlands; who, as they
received great encouragement from the French Protestants, would, he
hoped, finally despair of success, after the entire suppression of their
friends and confederates.

* Camden, p 452.

The same political views which engaged Elizabeth to support the Hugonots
would have led her to assist the distressed Protestants in the Low
Countries; but the mighty power of Philip, the tranquillity of all
his other dominions, and the great force which he maintained in these
mutinous provinces, kept her in awe, and obliged her, notwithstanding
all temptations and all provocations, to preserve some terms of amity
with that monarch. The Spanish ambassador represented to her, that many
of the Flemish exiles, who infested the seas, and preyed on his master's
subjects, were received into the harbors of England, and were there
allowed to dispose of their prizes; and by these remonstrances the queen
found herself under a necessity of denying them all entrance into her
dominions.

But this measure proved in the issue extremely prejudicial to the
interests of Philip. These desperate exiles, finding no longer any
possibility of subsistence, were forced to attempt the most perilous
enterprises; and they made an assault on the Brille, a seaport town
in Holland, where they met with success, and after a short resistance
became masters of the place.[*]

* Camden, p. 443.

The duke of Alva was alarmed at the danger; and stopping those bloody
executions which he was making on the defenceless Flemings, he hastened
with his army to extinguish the flame, which, falling on materials so
well prepared for combustion, seemed to menace a general conflagration.
His fears soon appeared to be well grounded. The people in the
neighborhood of the Brille, enraged by that complication of cruelty,
oppression, insolence, usurpation, and persecution, under which they and
all their countrymen labored, flew to arms; and in a few days almost all
the whole province of Holland and that of Zealand had revolted from the
Spaniards, and had openly declared against the tyranny of Alva. This
event happened in the year 1572.

William, prince of Orange, descended from a sovereign family of great
lustre and antiquity in Germany, inheriting the possessions of
a sovereign family in France, had fixed his residence in the Low
Countries; and on account of his noble birth and immense riches, as
well as of his personal merit, was universally regarded as the greatest
subject that lived in those provinces. He had opposed, by all regular
and dutiful means, the progress of the Spanish usurpations; and
when Alva conducted his army into the Netherlands, and assumed the
government, this prince, well acquainted with the violent character of
the man, and the tyrannical spirit of the court of Madrid, wisely fled
from the danger which threatened him, and retired to his paternal estate
and dominions in Germany. He was cited to appear before Alva's
tribunal, was condemned in absence, was declared a rebel, and his ample
possessions in the Low Countries were confiscated. In revenge, he had
levied an army of Protestants in the empire, and had made some attempts
to restore the Flemings to liberty; but was still repulsed with loss by
the vigilance and military conduct of Alva, and by the great bravery
as well as discipline of those veteran Spaniards who served under that
general.

The revolt of Holland and Zealand, provinces which the prince of Orange
had formerly commanded, and where he was much beloved, called him anew
from his retreat; and he added conduct, no less than spirit, to that
obstinate resistance which was here made to the Spanish dominion. By
uniting the revolted cities in a league, he laid the foundation of that
illustrious commonwealth, the offspring of industry and liberty, whose
arms and policy have long made so signal a figure in every transaction
of Europe. He inflamed the inhabitants by every motive which religious
zeal, resentment, or love of freedom could inspire. Though the present
greatness of the Spanish monarchy might deprive them of all courage, he
still flattered them with the concurrence of the other provinces,
and with assistance from neighboring states; and he exhorted them, in
defence of their religion, their liberties, their lives, to endure the
utmost extremities of war. From this spirit proceeded the desperate
defence of Harlem; a defence which nothing but the most consuming famine
could overcome, and which the Spaniards revenged by the execution of
more than two thousand of the inhabitants.[*] This extreme severity,
instead of striking terror into the Hollanders, animated them by
despair; and the vigorous resistance made at Alemaer, where Alva was
finally repulsed, showed them that their insolent enemies were not
invincible. The duke, finding at last the pernicious effects of
his violent counsels, solicited to be recalled; Medinaceli, who was
appointed his successor, refused to accept the government: Requesens,
commendator of Castile, was sent from Italy to replace Alva; and this
tyrant departed from the Netherlands in 1574; leaving his name in
execration to the inhabitants; and boasting in his turn, that, during
the course of five years, he had delivered above eighteen thousand of
these rebellious heretics into the hands of the executioner.[**]

* Bentivoglio, lib. vol.1.*

** Grotius, lib. ii.

Requesens, though a man of milder dispositions, could not appease the
violent hatred which the revolted Hollanders had conceived against the
Spanish government; and the war continued as obstinate as ever. In the
siege of Leyden, under taken by the Spaniards, the Dutch opened the
dikes and sluices, in order to drive them from the enterprise: and the
very peasants were active in ruining their fields by an inundation,
rather than fall again under the hated tyranny of Spain. But
notwithstanding this repulse, the governor still pursued the war; and
the contest seemed too unequal between so mighty a monarchy and two
small provinces, however fortified by nature, and however defended
by the desperate resolution of the inhabitants. The prince of Orange,
therefore, in 1575, was resolved to sue for foreign succor, and to make
applications to one or other of his great neighbors, Henry or Elizabeth.
The court of France was not exempt from the same spirit of tyranny and
persecution which prevailed among the Spaniards; and that kingdom, torn
by domestic dissensions, seemed not to enjoy, at present, either
leisure or ability to pay regard to foreign interests. But England, long
connected both by commerce and alliance with the Netherlands, and now
more concerned in the fate of the revolted provinces by sympathy in
religion, seemed naturally interested in their defence; and as Elizabeth
had justly entertained great jealousy of Philip, and governed her
kingdom in perfect tranquillity, hopes were entertained that her policy,
her ambition, or her generosity, would engage her to, support them under
their present calamities. They sent, therefore, a solemn embassy to
London, consisting of St. Aldegonde, Douza, Nivelle, Buys, and Melsen;
and after employing the most humble supplications to the queen, they
offered her the possession and sovereignty of their provinces, if she
would exert her power in their defence.

There were many strong motives which might impel Elizabeth to accept of
so liberal an offer. She was apprised of the injuries which Philip
had done her, by his intrigues with the malecontents in England and
Ireland:[*] she foresaw the danger which she must incur from a total
prevalence of the Catholics in the Low Countries: and the maritime
situation of those provinces, as well as their command over the great
rivers, was an inviting circumstance to a nation like the English, who
were beginning to cultivate commerce and naval power.

* Digges, p. 73.

But this princess, though magnanimous, had never entertained the
ambition of making conquests, or gaining new acquisitions; and the whole
purpose of her vigilant and active politics was to maintain, by the most
frugal and cautious expedients, the tranquillity of her own dominions.
An open war with the Spanish monarchy was the apparent consequence of
her accepting the dominion of these provinces; and after taking the
inhabitants under her protection, she could never afterwards in honor
abandon them, but, however desperate their defence might become, she
must embrace it, even further than her convenience or interests
would permit. For these reasons, she refused, in positive terms, the
sovereignty proffered her; but told the ambassadors, that, in return for
the good will which the prince of Orange and the states had shown
her, she would endeavor to mediate an agreement for them, on the most
reasonable terms that could be obtained.[*]

* Camden, p. 453, 454.

She sent accordingly Sir Henry Cobham to Philip; and represented to him
the danger which he would incur of losing entirely the Low Countries, if
France could obtain the least interval from her intestine disorders, and
find leisure to offer her protection to those mutinous and discontented
provinces. Philip seemed to take this remonstrance in good part; but no
accord ensued, and war in the Netherlands continued with the same rage
and violence as before.

It was an accident that delivered the Hollanders from their present
desperate situation. Requesens, the governor, dying suddenly, the
Spanish troops, discontented for want of pay, and licentious for want
of a proper authority to command them, broke into a furious mutiny, and
threw every thing into confusion. They sacked and pillaged the cities of
Maestricht and Antwerp, and executed great slaughter on the inhabitants:
they threatened the other cities with a like fate: and all the
provinces, excepting Luxembourg, united for mutual defence against their
violence, and called in the prince of Orange and the Hollanders as their
protectors. A treaty, commonly called the Pacification of Ghent, was
formed by common agreement; and the removal of foreign troops, with
the restoration of their ancient liberties, was the object which the
provinces mutually stipulated to pursue. Don John of Austria, natural
brother to Philip, being appointed governor, found, on his arrival at
Luxembourg, that the states had so fortified themselves, and that the
Spanish troops were so divided by their situation, that there was no
possibility of resistance; and he agreed to the terms required of him.
The Spaniards evacuated the country; and these provinces seemed at last
to breathe a little from their calamities.

But it was not easy to settle entire peace, while the thirst of revenge
and dominion governed the king of Spain, and while the Flemings were so
strongly agitated with resentment of past, and fear of future injuries.
The ambition of Don John, who coveted this great theatre for his
military talents engaged him rather to inflame than appease the quarrel;
and as he found the states determined to impose very strict limitations
on his authority, he broke all articles, seized Namur, and procured the
recall of the Spanish army from Italy. This prince, endowed with a lofty
genius, and elated by the prosperous successes of his youth, had opened
his mind to vast undertakings; and looking much beyond the conquest of
the revolted provinces, had projected to espouse the queen of Scots,
and to acquire in her right the dominion of the British kingdoms.[*]
Elizabeth was aware of his intentions; and seeing now, from the union of
all the provinces, a fair prospect of their making a long and vigorous
defence against Spain, she no longer scrupled to embrace the protection
of their liberties, which seemed so intimately connected with her own
safety. After sending them a sum of money, about twenty thousand pounds,
for the immediate pay of their troops, she concluded a treaty with them;
in which she stipulated to assist them with five thousand foot and
a thousand horse, at the charge of the Flemings; and to lend them a
hundred thousand pounds, on receiving the bonds of some of the most
considerable towns of the Netherlands, for her repayment within the
year. It was further agreed, that the commander of the English army
should be admitted into the council of the states; and nothing be
determined concerning war or peace, without previously informing the
queen or him of it; that they should enter into no league without
her consent; that if any discord arose among themselves, it should be
referred to her arbitration; and that, if any prince, on any pretext,
should attempt hostilities against her, they should send to her
assistance an army equal to that which she had employed in their
defence. This alliance was signed on the seventh of January, 1578.[**]

* Camden, p. 466. Grotius, lib. iii.

** Camden, p. 466.

One considerable inducement to the queen for entering into treaty with
the states, was to prevent their throwing themselves into the arms of
France; and she was desirous to make the king of Spain believe that it
was her sole motive. She represented to him, by her ambassador, Thomas
Wilkes, that hitherto she had religiously acted the part of a good
neighbor and ally; had refused the sovereignty of Holland and Zealand
when offered her, had advised the prince of Orange to submit to the
king; and had even accompanied her counsel with menaces, in case of his
refusal. She persevered, she said, in the same friendly intentions; and,
as a proof of it, would venture to interpose with her advice for the
composure of the present differences: let Don John, whom she could not
but regard as her mortal enemy, be recalled; let some other prince more
popular be substituted in his room; let the Spanish armies be withdrawn;
let the Flemings be restored to their ancient liberties and privileges;
and if, after these concessions, they were still obstinate not to return
to their duty, she promised to join her arms with those of the king of
Spain, and force them to compliance. Philip dissembled his resentment
against the queen, and still continued to supply Don John with money and
troops. That prince, though once repulsed at Rimenant by the valor of
the English, under Norris, and though opposed, as well by the army of
the states as by Prince Casimir, who had conducted to the Low Countries
a great body of Germans paid by the queen, gained a great advantage
over the Flemings at Gemblours; but was cut off in the midst of his
prosperity by poison, given him secretly, as was suspected, by orders
from Philip, who dreaded his ambition. The prince of Parma succeeded to
the command; who, uniting valor and clemency, negotiation and military
exploits, made great progress against the revolted Flemings, and
advanced the progress of the Spaniards by his arts as well as by his
arms.

During these years, while Europe was almost every where in great
commotion, England enjoyed a profound tranquillity; owing chiefly to
the prudence and vigor of the queen's administration, and to the wise
precautions which she employed in all her measures. By supporting
the zealous Protestants in Scotland, she had twice given them the
superiority over their antagonists, had closely connected their
interests with her own, and had procured herself entire security from
that quarter whence the most dangerous invasions could be made upon her.
She saw in France her enemies, the Guises, though extremely powerful,
yet counterbalanced by the Hugo*nots, her zealous partisans, and even
hated by the king, who was jealous of their restless and exorbitant
ambition. The bigotry of Philip gave her just ground of anxiety; but the
same bigotry had happily excited the most obstinate opposition among his
own subjects, and had created him enemies whom his arms and policy were
not likely soon to subdue. The queen of Scots, her antagonist and rival,
and the pretender to her throne, was a prisoner in her hands; and, by
her impatience and high spirit, had been engaged in practices which
afforded the queen a pretence for rendering her confinement more
rigorous, and for cutting off her communication with her partisans in
England.

Religion was the capital point on which depended all the political
transactions of that age; and the queen's conduct in this particular,
making allowance for the prevailing prejudices of the times, could
scarcely be accused of severity or imprudence. She established no
inquisition into men's bosoms; she imposed no oath of supremacy, except
on those who received trust or emolument from the public; and though
the exercise of every religion but the established was prohibited by
statute, the violation of this law, by saying mass, and receiving the
sacrament, in private houses, was in many instances connived at;[*]
while, on the other hand, the Catholics, in the beginning of her reign,
showed little reluctance against going to church, or frequenting the
ordinary duties of public worship. The pope, sensible that this practice
would by degrees reconcile all his partisans to the reformed religion,
hastened the publication of the bull which excommunicated the queen, and
freed her subjects from their oaths of allegiance; and great pains were
taken by the emissaries of Rome, to render the breach between the two
religions as wide as possible, and to make the frequenting of Protestant
churches appear highly criminal in the Catholics.[**] These practices,
with the rebellion which ensued, increased the vigilance and severity of
the government; but the Romanists, if their condition were compared with
that of the nonconformists in other countries, and with their own
maxims where they domineered, could not justly complain of violence or
persecution.

* Camden, p. 459.

** Walsingham's Letter in Burnet, vol. ii. p. 418. Cabala,
p. 406.

The queen appeared rather more anxious to keep a strict hand over
the Puritans; who, though their pretensions were not so immediately
dangerous to her authority, seemed to be actuated by a more unreasonable
obstinacy, and to retain claims, of which, both in civil and
ecclesiastical matters, it was as yet difficult to discern the full
scope and intention. Some secret attempts of that sect to establish a
separate congregation and discipline, had been carefully repressed in
the beginning of this reign;[*] and when any of the established clergy
discovered a tendency to their principles, by omitting the legal habits
or ceremonies, the queen had shown a determined resolution to punish
them by fines and deprivation;[**] though her orders to that purpose had
been frequently eluded, by the secret protection which these sectaries
received from some of her most considerable courtiers.

But what chiefly tended to gain Elizabeth the hearts of her subjects,
was her frugality, which, though carried sometimes to an extreme, led
her not to amass treasures, but only to prevent impositions upon her
people, who were at that time very little accustomed to bear the burdens
of government. By means of her rigid economy, she paid all the debts
which she found on the crown, with their full interest; though some
of these debts had been contracted even during the reign of her
father.[***] Some loans, which she had exacted at the commencement
of her reign, were repaid by her; a practice in that age somewhat
unusual;[****] and she established her credit on such a footing, that no
sovereign in Europe could more readily command any sum which the public
exigencies might at any time require.[v] During this peaceable and
uniform government, England furnishes few materials for history; and
except the small part which Elizabeth took in foreign transactions,
there scarcely passed any occurrence which requires a particular detail.

* Strype's Life of Parker, p. 342. Strype's Life of Grindal,
p. 315.

** Heylin, p. 165, 166.

*** D'Ewes, p. 245. Camden, p. 446.

**** D'Ewes, p. 245.

v D'Ewes, p. 246.

The most memorable event in this period was a session of parliament,
held on the eighth of February, 1576; where debates were started which
may appear somewhat curious and singular. Peter Wentworth, a Puritan,
who had signalized himself in former parliaments by his free and
undaunted spirit, opened this session with a premeditated harangue,
which drew on him the indignation of the house, and gave great offence
to the queen and the ministers. As it seems to contain a rude sketch
of those principles of liberty which happily gained afterwards the
ascendant in England, it may not be improper to give, in a few words,
the substance of it. He premised, that the very name of liberty is
sweet; but the thing itself is precious beyond the most inestimable
treasures and that it behoved them to be careful, lest, contenting
themselves with the sweetness of the name, they forego the substance,
and abandon what of all earthly possessions was of the highest value
to the kingdom. He then proceeded to observe, that freedom of speech in
that house,--a privilege so useful both to sovereign and subject,--had
been formerly infringed in many essential articles, and was at present
exposed to the most imminent danger: that it was usual, when any subject
of importance was handled, especially if it regarded religion, to
surmise, that these topics were disagreeable to the queen, and that the
further proceeding in them would draw down her indignation upon their
temerity: that Solomon had justly affirmed the king's displeasure to be
a messenger of death; and it was no wonder if men, even though urged by
motives of conscience and duty, should be inclined to stop short when
they found themselves exposed to so severe a penalty: that by the
employing of this argument, the house was incapacitated from serving
their country, and even from serving the queen herself, whose ears,
besieged by pernicious flatterers, were thereby rendered inaccessible
to the most salutary truths: that it was a mockery to call an assembly
a parliament, yet deny it that privilege which was so essential to its
being, and without which it must degenerate into an abject school
of servility and dissimulation: that as the parliament was the great
guardian of the laws, they ought to have liberty to discharge their
trust, and to maintain that authority whence even kings themselves
derive their being: that a king was constituted such by law, and though
he was not dependent on man, yet was he subordinate to God and the law,
and was obliged to make their prescriptions, not his own will, the rule
of his conduct: that even his commission, as God's vicegerent, enforced,
instead of loosening this obligation; since he was thereby invested with
authority to execute on earth the will of God, which is nothing but
law and justice: that though these surmises of displeasing the queen by
their proceedings, had impeached, in a very essential point, all freedom
of speech,--a privilege granted them by a special law,--yet was there
a more express and more dangerous invasion made on their liberties, by
frequent messages from the throne: that it had become a practice, when
the house was entering on any question, either ecclesiastical or civil,
to bring an order from the queen, inhibiting them absolutely from
treating of such matters, and debarring them from all further discussion
of these momentous articles: that the prelates, emboldened by her royal
protection, had assumed a decisive power in all questions of religion,
and required that every one should implicitly submit his faith to their
arbitrary determinations: that the love which he bore his sovereign
forbade him to be silent under such abuses, or to sacrifice, on this
important occasion, his duty to servile flattery and complaisance; and
that, as no earthly creature was exempt from fault, so neither was the
queen herself; but, in imposing this servitude on her faithful commons,
had committed a great and even dangerous fault against herself and the
whole commonwealth.[*]

It is easy to observe from this speech, that, in this dawn of liberty,
the parliamentary style was still crude and unformed; and that
the proper decorum of attacking ministers and counsellors, without
interesting the honor of the crown, or mentioning the person of the
sovereign, was not yet entirely established. The commons expressed great
displeasure at this unusual license; they sequestered Wentworth from
the house, and committed him prisoner to the serjeant at arms. They
even ordered him to be examined by a committee, consisting of all those
members who were also members of the privy council; and a report to be
next day made to the house. This committee met in the star chamber, and,
wearing the aspect of that arbitrary court, summoned Wentworth to appear
before them, and answer for his behavior. But though the commons had
discovered so little delicacy or precaution in thus confounding their
own authority with that of the star chamber, Wentworth better understood
the principles of liberty, and refused to give these counsellors any
account of his conduct in parliament, till he were satisfied that they
acted, not as members of the privy council, but as a committee of the
house.[**] He justified his liberty of speech by pleading the rigor and
hardship of the queen's messages; and notwithstanding that the committee
showed him, by instances in other reigns, that the practice of sending
such messages was not unprecedented, he would not agree to express any
sorrow or repentance. The issue of the affair was, that after a month's
confinement, the queen sent to the commons, informing them, that, from
her special grace and favor, she had restored him to his liberty and to
his place in the house.[***]

* D'Ewes, p. 236, 237, etc.

** D'Ewes, p. 244.

*** D'Ewes, p. 241.

By this seeming lenity, she indirectly retained the power which she had
assumed, of imprisoning the members and obliging them to answer before
her for their conduct in parliament. And Sir Walter Mildmay endeavored
to make the house sensible of her majesty's goodness, in so gently
remitting the indignation which she might justly conceive at the
temerity of their member; but he informed them, that they had not the
liberty of speaking what and of whom they pleased; and that indiscreet
freedoms used in that house, had, both in the present and foregoing
ages, met with a proper chastisement. He warned them, therefore, not to
abuse further the queen's clemency, lest she be constrained, contrary
to her inclination, to turn an unsuccessful lenity into a necessary
severity.[*]

The behavior of the two houses was, in every other respect, equally tame
and submissive. Instead of a bill, which was at first introduced,[**]
for the reformation of the church, they were contented to present a
petition to her majesty for that purpose; and when she told them, that
she would give orders to her bishops to amend all abuses, and, if they
were negligent, she would herself, by her supreme power and authority
over the church, give such redress as would entirely satisfy the nation,
the parliament willingly acquiesced in this sovereign and peremptory
decision.[***]

Though the commons showed so little spirit in opposing the authority
of the crown, they maintained, this session, their dignity against an
encroachment of the peers, and would not agree to a conference which,
they thought, was demanded of them in an irregular manner. They
acknowledged, however, with all humbleness, (such is their expression,)
the superiority of the lords: they only refused to give that house any
reason for their proceedings; and asserted, that where they altered a
bill sent them by the peers, it belonged to them to desire a conference,
not to the upper house to require it.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 259.

** D'Ewes, p. 252.

*** D'Ewes, p. 257.

**** D'Ewes, p. 263.

The commons granted an aid of one subsidy and two fifteenths. Mildmay,
in order to satisfy the house concerning the reasonableness of this
grant, entered into a detail of the queen's past expenses in supporting
the government, and of the increasing charges of the crown, from the
daily increase in the price of all commodities. He did not, however,
forge to admonish them, that they were to regard this detail as the pure
effect of the queen's condescension, since she was not bound to give
them any account how she employed her treasure.[*]

* D'Ewes, p. 246.

CHAPTER XLI.

ELIZABETH.

{1580.} The greatest and most absolute security that Elizabeth enjoyed
during her whole reign, never exempted her from vigilance and attention;
but the scene began now to be more overcast, and dangers gradually
multiplied on her from more than one quarter.

The earl of Morton had hitherto retained Scotland in strict alliance
with the queen, and had also restored domestic tranquility to that
kingdom; but it was not to be expected, that the factitious and
legal authority of a regent would long maintain itself in a country
unacquainted with law and order; where even the natural dominion
of hereditary princes so often met with opposition and control. The
nobility began anew to break into factions; the people were disgusted
with some instances of Morton's avarice; and the clergy, who complained
of further encroachments on their narrow revenue, joined and increased
the discontent of the other orders. The regent was sensible of his
dangerous situation; and having dropped some peevish expressions, as
if he were willing or desirous to resign, the noblemen of the opposite
party, favorites of the young king, laid hold of this concession, and
required that demission which he seemed so frankly to offer them. James
was at this time but eleven years of age; yet Morton, having secured
himself, as he imagined, by a general pardon, resigned his authority
into the hands of the king, who pretended to conduct in his own name the
administration of the kingdom. The regent retired from the government,
and seemed to employ himself entirely in the care of his domestic
affairs; but either tired with this tranquillity, which appeared insipid
after the agitations of ambition, or thinking it time to throw off
dissimulation, he came again to court, acquired an ascendant in the
council, and though he resumed not the title of regent, governed with
the same authority as before. The opposite party, after holding separate
conventions, took to arms, on pretence of delivering their prince from
captivity, and restoring him to the free exercise of his government:
Queen Elizabeth interposed by her ambassador, Sir Robert Bowes, and
mediated an agreement between the factions: Morton kept possession of
the government; but his enemies were numerous and vigilant, and his
authority seemed to become every day more precarious.

The count d'Aubigney, of the house of Lenox, cousin-german to the king's
father, had been born and educated in France; and being a young man of
good address and a sweet disposition, he appeared to the duke of Guise
a proper instrument for detaching James from the English interest, and
connecting him with his mother and her relations. He no sooner appeared
at Stirling, where James resided, than he acquired the affections of the
young monarch; and joining his interests with those of James Stuart, of
the house of Ochiltree, a man of profligate manners, who had acquired
the king's favor, he employed himself, under the appearance of play
and amusement, in instilling into the tender mind of the prince new
sentiments of politics and government. He represented to him the
injustice which had been done to Mary in her deposition, and made him
entertain thoughts either of resigning the crown into her hands, or of
associating her with him in the administration.[*] Elizabeth, alarmed
at the danger which might ensue from the prevalence of this interest
in Scotland, sent anew Sir Robert Bowes to Stirling; and accusing
D'Aubigney, now created earl of Lenox, of an attachment to the French,
warned James against entertaining such suspicious and dangerous
connections.[**]

* Digges, p. 412, 428. Melvil, p. 130.

** Spotswood, p. 309.

The king excused himself by Sir Alexander Hume, his ambassador; and
Lenox, finding that the queen had openly declared against him, was
further confirmed in his intention of overturning the English interest,
and particularly of ruining Morton, who was regarded as the head of it.
That nobleman was arrested in council, accused as an accomplice in the
late king's murder, committed to prison, brought to trial, and condemned
to suffer as a traitor. He confessed that Bothwell had communicated
to him the design, had pleaded Mary's consent, and had desired his
concurrence; but he denied that he himself had ever expressed any
approbation of the crime; and in excuse for his concealing it, he
alleged the danger of revealing the secret, either to Henry, who had no
resolution nor constancy, or Morton, who appeared to be an accomplice in
the murder.[*]

* Spotswood, p. 314, Crawford, p. 333. Moyse's Memoirs,
Spotswood, p. 312. t Digge, p. 359. 373.

Sir Thomas Randolph was sent by the queen to intercede in favor of
Morton; and that ambassador, not content with discharging this duty of
his function, engaged, by his persuasion, the earls of Argyle,
Montrose, Angus, Marre, and Glencairne, to enter into a confederacy for
protecting, even by force of arms, the life of the prisoner. The more
to overawe that nobleman's enemies, Elizabeth ordered forces to be
assembled on the borders of England; but this expedient served only to
hasten his sentence and execution. Morton died with that constancy and
resolution which had attended him through all the various events of
his life; and left a reputation which was less disputed with regard
to abilities than probity and virtue. But this conclusion of the scene
happened not till the subsequent year.

Elizabeth was, during this period, extremely anxious on account of
every revolution in Scotland; both because that country alone, not being
separated from England by sea, and bordering on all the Catholic and
malecontent counties, afforded her enemies a safe and easy method of
attacking her; and because she was sensible that Mary, thinking herself
abandoned by the French monarch, had been engaged by the Guises to have
recourse to the powerful protection of Philip, who, though he had not
yet come to an open rupture with the queen, was every day, both by the
injuries which he committed and suffered, more exasperated against her.
That he might retaliate the assistance which she gave to his rebels in
the Low Countries, he had sent, under the name of the pope; a body
of seven hundred Spaniards and Italians into Ireland; where the
inhabitants, always turbulent, and discontented with the English
government, were now more alienated by religious prejudices, and were
ready to join every invader. The Spanish general, San Josepho, built a
fort in Kerry; and being there besieged by the earl of Ormond, president
of Munster, who was soon after joined by Lord Gray, the deputy, he made
a weak and cowardly defence. After some assaults, feebly sustained, he
surrendered at discretion; and Gray, who commanded but a small force,
finding himself encumbered with so many prisoners, put all the Spaniards
and Italians to the sword without mercy, and hanged about fifteen
hundred of the Irish; a cruelty which gave great displeasure to
Elizabeth.[*]

When the English ambassador made complaints of this invasion, he was
answered by like complaints of the piracies committed by Francis Drake,
a bold seaman, who had assaulted the Spaniards in the place where they
deemed themselves most secure--in the new world. This man, sprung from
mean parents in the county of Devon, having acquired considerable riches
by depredations made in the Isthmus of Panama, and having there gotten
a sight of the Pacific Ocean, was so stimulated by ambition and avarice,
that he scrupled not to employ his whole fortune in a new adventure
through those seas, so much unknown at that time to all the European
nations.[**] By means of Sir Christopher Hatton, then vice-chamberlain,
a great favorite of the queen's, he obtained her consent and
approbation; and he set sail from Plymouth in 1577, with four ships
and a pinnace, on board of which were one hundred and sixty-four able
sailors.[***] He passed into the South Sea by the Straits of Magellan;
and attacking the Spaniards, who expected no enemy in those quarters,
he took many rich prizes, and prepared to return with the booty which he
had acquired. Apprehensive of being intercepted by the enemy, if he took
the same way homewards by which he had reached the Pacific Ocean, he
attempted to find a passage by the north of California; and failing in
that enterprise, he set sail for the East Indies, and returned safely
this year, by the Cape of Good Hope. He was the first Englishman who
sailed round the globe; and the first commander-in-chief; for Magellan,
whose ship executed the same adventure, died in his passage. His name
became celebrated on account of so bold and fortunate an attempt;
but many, apprehending the resentment of the Spaniards, endeavored
to persuade the queen, that it would be more prudent to disavow the
enterprise, to punish Drake, and to restore the treasure. But Elizabeth,
who admired valor, and who was allured by the prospect of sharing in the
booty, determined to countenance that gallant sailor: she conferred
on him the honor of knighthood, and accepted of a banquet from him at
Deptford, on board the ship which had achieved so memorable a voyage.

* Camden, p. 475. Cox's Hist, of Ireland, p. 368.

** Camden, p. 478. Stowe, p. 689.

** Camden, p. 478. Hakluyt's Voyages, vol. iii. p. 750
Purchas's Pilgrim, vol. i. p. 46.

When Philip's ambassador, Mendoza, exclaimed against Drake's piracies,
she told him, that the Spaniards, by arrogating a right to the whole new
world, and excluding thence all other European nations who should
sail thither, even with a view of exercising the most lawful commerce,
naturally tempted others to make a violent irruption into those
countries.[*] To pacify, however, the Catholic monarch, she caused part
of the booty to be restored to Pedro Sebura, a Spaniard, who pretended
to be agent for the merchants whom Drake had spoiled. Having learned
afterwards that Philip had seized the money, and had employed part of
it against herself in Ireland, part of it in the pay of the prince of
Parma's troops she determined to make no more restitutions.

{1581.} There was another cause which induced the queen to take this
resolution: she was in such want of money, that she was obliged to
assemble a parliament; a measure which, as she herself openly declared,
she never embraced except when constrained by the necessity of her
affairs. The parliament, besides granting her a supply of one subsidy
and two fifteenths, enacted some statutes for the security of her
government, chiefly against the attempts of the Catholics. Whoever
in any way reconciled any one to the church of Rome, or was himself
reconciled, was declared to be guilty of treason; to say mass was
subjected to the penalty of a year's imprisonment and a fine of two
hundred marks; the being present was punishable by a year's imprisonment
and a fine of a hundred marks: a fine of twenty pounds a month was
imposed on every one who continued, during that time, absent from
church.[**] To utter slanderous or seditious words against the queen was
punishable, for the first offence, with the pillory and loss of ears;
the second offence was declared felony; the writing or printing of such
words was felony, even on the first offence.[***] The Puritans
prevailed so far as to have further applications made for reformation in
religion:[****] and Paul Wentworth, brother to the member of that name
who had distinguished himself in the preceding session, moved, that the
commons, from their own authority, should appoint a general fast
and prayers; a motion to which the house unwarily assented. For this
presumption they were severely reprimanded by a message from the queen,
as encroaching on the royal prerogative and supremacy; and they were
obliged to submit, and ask forgiveness.[v]

* Camden, p. 480.

** 23 Eliz. cap. 1.

*** 23 Eliz. cap. 2.

**** D'Ewes, p. 302.

v Camden, p. 477.

The queen and parliament were engaged to pass these severe laws against
the Catholics, by some late discoveries of the treasonable practices
of their priests. When the ancient worship was suppressed, and the
reformation introduced into the universities, the king of Spain
reflected, that as some species of literature was necessary for
supporting these doctrines and controversies, the Romish communion
must decay in England, if no means were found to give erudition to the
ecclesiastics; and for this reason he founded a seminary at Douay, where
the Catholics sent their children, chiefly such as were intended for the
priesthood, in order to receive the rudiments of their education. The
cardinal of Lorraine imitated this example, by erecting a like seminary
in his diocese of Rheims; and though Rome was somewhat distant, the pope
would not neglect to adorn, by a foundation of the same nature, that
capital of orthodoxy. These seminaries, founded with so hostile an
intention, sent over, every year, a colony of priests, who maintained
the Catholic superstition in its full height of bigotry; and being
educated with a view to the crown of martyrdom, were not deterred,
either by danger or fatigue, from maintaining and propagating their
principles. They infused into all their votaries an extreme hatred
against the queen, whom they treated as a usurper, a schismatic, a
heretic, a persecutor of the orthodox, and one solemnly and publicly
anathematized by the holy father. Sedition, rebellion, sometimes
assassination, were the expedients by which they intended to effect
their purposes against her; and the severe restraint, not to say
persecution, under which the Catholics labored, made them the more
willingly receive from their ghostly fathers such violent doctrines.

These seminaries were all of them under the direction of the Jesuits, a
new order of regular priests erected in Europe, when the court of Rome
perceived that the lazy monks and beggarly friars, who sufficed in times
of ignorance, were no longer able to defend the ramparts of the church,
assailed on every side, and that the inquisitive spirit of the age
required a society more active and more learned to oppose its dangerous
progress. These men as they stood foremost in the contest against the
Protestants, drew on them the extreme animosity of that whole sect; and,
by assuming a superiority over the other more numerous and more ancient
orders of their own communion, were even exposed to the envy of
their brethren: so that it is no wonder, if the blame to which their
principles and conduct might be exposed, has, in many instances, been
much exaggerated. This reproach, however, they must bear from posterity,
that, by the very nature of their institution, they were engaged to
pervert learning, the only effectual remedy against superstition, into a
nourishment of that infirmity: and as their erudition was chiefly of
the ecclesiastical and scholastic kind, (though a few members have
cultivated polite literature,) they were only the more enabled by that
acquisition to refine away the plainest dictates of morality, and to
erect a regular system of casuistry, by which prevarication, perjury,
and every crime, when it served their ghostly purposes, might be
justified and defended.

The Jesuits, as devoted servants to the court of Rome, exalted the
prerogative of the sovereign pontiff above all earthly power; and by
maintaining his authority of deposing kings, set no bounds either to his
spiritual or temporal jurisdiction. This doctrine became so prevalent
among the zealous Catholics in England, that the excommunication
fulminated against Elizabeth excited many scruples of a singular kind,
to which it behoved the holy father to provide a remedy. The bull
of Pius, in absolving the subjects from their oaths of allegiance,
commanded them to resist the queen's usurpation; and many Romanists were
apprehensive, that by this clause they were obliged in conscience, even
though no favorable opportunity offered, to rebel against her, and that
no dangers or difficulties could free them from this indispensable duty.
But Parsons and Campion, two Jesuits, were sent over with a mitigation
and explanation of the doctrine; and they taught their disciples, that
though the bull was forever binding on Elizabeth and her partisans,
it did not oblige the Catholics to obedience except when the sovereign
pontiff should think proper, by a new summons, to require it. Campion
was afterwards detected in treasonable practices; and being put to the
rack, and confessing his guilt, he was publicly executed. His execution
was ordered at the very time when the duke of Anjou was in England, and
prosecuted, with the greatest appearance of success, his marriage
with the queen; and this severity was probably intended to appease her
Protestant subjects, and to satisfy them, that whatever measures
she might pursue, she never would depart from the principles of the
reformation.

The duke of Alençon, now created duke of Anjou, had never entirely
dropped his pretensions to Elizabeth; and that princess, though her
suitor was near twenty-five years younger than herself, and had no
knowledge of her person but by pictures or descriptions, was still
pleased with the image, which his addresses afforded her, of love and
tenderness. The duke, in order to forward his suit, besides employing
his brother's ambassador, sent over Simier, an agent of his own; an
artful man, of an agreeable conversation, who soon remarking the queen's
humor, amused her with gay discourse, and instead of serious political
reasonings, which he found only awakened her ambition, and hurt his
master's interests, he introduced every moment all the topics of passion
and of gallantry. The pleasure which she found in this man's company
soon produced a familiarity between them; and amidst the greatest hurry
of business, her most confidential ministers had not such ready access
to her as had Simier, who, on pretence of negotiation, entertained her
with accounts of the tender attachment borne her by the duke of Anjou.
The earl of Leicester, who had never before been alarmed with any
courtship paid her, and who always trusted that her love of dominion
would prevail over her inclination to marriage, began to apprehend
that she was at last caught in her own snare, and that the artful
encouragement which she had given to this young suitor had unawares
engaged her affections. To render Simier odious, he availed himself of
the credulity of the times, and spread reports, that that minister had
gained an ascendant over the Queen, not by any natural principles of her
constitution, but by incantations and love potions. Simier, in revenge,
endeavored to discredit Leicester with the queen; and he revealed to
her a secret, which none of her courtiers dared to disclose, that this
nobleman was secretly, without her consent, married to the widow of the
earl of Essex; an action which the queen interpreted either to
proceed from want of respect to her, or as a violation of their mutual
attachment; and which so provoked her, that she threatened to send him
to the Tower.[*]

* Camden, p. 471.

The quarrel went so far between Leicester and the French agent, that the
former was suspected of having employed one Tudor, a bravo, to take
away the life of his enemy and the queen thought it necessary, by
proclamation, to take Simier under her immediate protection. It
happened, that while Elizabeth was rowed in her barge on the Thames,
attended by Simier and some of her courtiers, a shot was fired, which
wounded one of the bargemen; but the queen, finding, upon inquiry, that
the piece had been discharged by accident, gave the person his liberty
without further punishment. So far was she from entertaining any
suspicion against her people, that she was often heard to say, "that
she would lend credit to nothing against them, which parents would not
believe of their own children."[*]

The duke of Anjou, encouraged by the accounts sent him of the queen's
prepossessions in his favor, paid her secretly a visit at Greenwich; and
after some conference with her, the purport of which is not known, he
departed. It appeared that, though his figure; was not advantageous, he
had lost no ground by being personally known to her; and soon after, she
commanded Burleigh, now treasurer, Sussex, Leicester, Bedford, Lincoln,
Hatton, and Secretary Walsingham, to concert with the French ambassadors
the terms of the intended contract of marriage. Henry had sent over,
on this occasion, a splendid embassy, consisting of Francis de Bourbon,
prince of Dauphiny, and many considerable noblemen; and as the queen
had in a manner the power of prescribing what terms she pleased, the
articles were soon settled with the English commissioners. It was
agreed, that the marriage should be celebrated within six weeks after
the ratification of the articles; that the duke and his retinue should
have the exercise of their religion; that after the marriage he should
bear the title of king, but the administration remain solely in the
queen; that their children, male or female, should succeed to the crown
of England; that if there be two males, the elder, in case of Henry's
death without issue, should be king of France, the younger of England;
that if there be but one male, and he succeed to the crown of France,
he should be obliged to reside in England eight months every two years;
that the laws and customs of England should be preserved inviolate;
and that no foreigner should be promoted by the duke to any office in
England.[**]

* Camden. p. 471.

** Camden, p. 484.

These articles, providing for the security of England in case of its
annexation to the crown of France, opened but a dismal prospect to the
English, had not the age of Elizabeth, who was now in her forty-ninth
year, contributed very much to allay their apprehensions of this nature.
The queen also, as a proof of her still remaining uncertainty, added a
clause, that she was not bound to complete the marriage, till further
articles, which were not specified, should be agreed on between the
parties, and till the king of France be certified of this agreement.
Soon after, the queen sent over Walsingham as ambassador to France, in
order to form closer connections with Henry, and enter into a league
offensive and defensive against the increasing power and dangerous
usurpations of Spain. The French king, who had been extremely disturbed
with the unquiet spirit, the restless ambition, the enterprising, yet
timid and inconstant disposition of Anjou, had already sought to free
the kingdom from his intrigues, by opening a scene for his activity
in Flanders; and having allowed him to embrace the protection of
the states, had secretly supplied him with men and money for the
undertaking. The prospect of settling him in England was for a like
reason very agreeable to that monarch; and he was desirous to cultivate,
by every expedient, the favorable sentiments which Elizabeth seemed to
entertain towards him. But this princess, though she had gone further in
her amorous dalliance[*] than could be justified or accounted for by any
principles of policy, was not yet determined to carry matters to a
final conclusion; and she confined Walsingham, in his instructions,
to negotiating conditions of a mutual alliance between France and
England.[**] Henry with reluctance submitted to hold conferences on
that subject; but no sooner had Walsingham begun to settle the terms
of alliance, than he was informed, that the queen, foreseeing hostility
with Spain to be the result of this confederacy, had declared that
she would prefer the marriage with the war, before the war without the
marriage.[***] The French court, pleased with this change of resolution,
broke off the conferences concerning the league, and opened a
negotiation for the marriage.[****] But matters had not long proceeded
in this train, before the queen again declared for the league in
preference to the marriage, and ordered Walsingham to renew the
conferences for that purpose. Before he had leisure to bring this point
to maturity, he was interrupted by a new change of resolution; [v] and
not only the court of France, but Walsingham himself, Burleigh, and all
the wisest ministers of Elizabeth, were in amazement doubtful where this
contest between inclination and reason love and ambition, would at last
terminate.[v*] [17]

* Digges, p. 387, 396, 408, 426.

** Digges, p. 352.

*** Digges, p. 375, 391.

**** Digges, p. 392.

v Digges, p. 408.

v* See note Q, at the end of the volume.

In the course of this affair, Elizabeth felt another variety of
intentions, from a new contest between her reason and her ruling
passions. The duke of Anjou expected from her some money, by which
he might be enabled to open the campaign in Flanders; and the queen
herself, though her frugality made her long reluctant, was sensible
that this supply was necessary, and she was at last induced, after much
hesitation, to comply with his request.[*] She sent him a present of a
hundred thousand crowns; by which, joined to his own demesnes, and the
assistance of his brother and the queen dowager, he levied an army, and
took the field against the prince of Parma. He was successful in raising
the siege of Cambray; and being chosen by the states governor of the
Netherlands, he put his army into winter quarters, and came over to
England, in order to prosecute his suit to the queen. The reception
which he met with made him expect entire success, and gave him hopes
that Elizabeth had surmounted all scruples, and was finally determined
to make choice of him for her husband. In the midst of the pomp which
attended the anniversary of her coronation, she was seen, after long and
intimate discourse with him, to take a ring from her own finger, and to
put it upon his; and all the spectators concluded, that in this ceremony
she had given him a promise of marriage, and was even desirous of
signifying her intentions to all the world. St. Aldegonde, ambassador
from the states, despatched immediately a letter to his masters,
informing them of this great event; and the inhabitants of Antwerp, who,
as well as the other Flemings, regarded the queen as a kind of titular
divinity, testified their joy by bonfires and the discharge of their
great ordnance.[**]

* Digges, p. 357, 387, 388, 409, 426, 439. Rymer. xv. p.
793.

** Camden, p. 486. Thuan. lib. lxxiv.

A Puritan of Lincoln's Inn had written a passionate book, which he
entitled, "The Gulph in which England will be swallowed by the French
Marriage." He was apprehended and prosecuted by order of the queen,
and was condemned to lose his right hand as a libeller. Such was the
constancy and loyalty of the man, that immediately after the sentence
was executed, he took off his hat with his other hand, and waving it
over his head, cried, God save the queen.

But notwithstanding this attachment which Elizabeth so openly discovered
to the duke of Anjou, the combat of her sentiments was not entirely
over; and her ambition, as well as prudence, rousing itself by
intervals, still filled her breast with doubt and hesitation. Almost
all the courtiers whom she trusted and favored--Leicester, Hatton, and
Walsingham--discovered an extreme aversion to the marriage; and the
ladies of her bed-chamber made no scruple of opposing her resolution
with the most zealous remonstrances.[*]

* Camden, p. 486.

Among other enemies to the match, Sir Philip, son of Sir Henry Sidney,
deputy of Ireland, and nephew to Leicester, a young man the most
accomplished of the age, declared himself: and he used the freedom
to write her a letter, in which he dissuaded her from her present
resolution, with an unusual elegance of expression, as well as force
of reasoning. He told her, that the security of her government depended
entirely on the affections of her Protestant subjects; and she could
not, by any measure, more effectually disgust them, than by espousing a
prince who was son of the perfidious Catharine, brother to the cruel and
perfidious Charles, and who had himself imbrued his hands in the blood
of the innocent and defenceless Protestants: that the Catholics were her
mortal enemies, and believed, either that she had originally usurped
the crown, or was now lawfully deposed by the pope's bull of
excommunication; and nothing had ever so much elevated their hopes as
the prospect of her marriage with the duke of Anjou: that her chief
security at present against the efforts of so numerous, rich, and united
a faction, was, that they possessed no head who could conduct their
dangerous enterprises; and she herself was rashly supplying that defect,
by giving an interest in the kingdom to a prince whose education had
zealously attached him to that communion: that though he was a stranger
to the blood royal of England, the dispositions of men were now such,
that they preferred the religious to the civil connections; and were
more influenced by sympathy in theological opinions, than by the
principles of legal and hereditary government: that the duke himself
had discovered a very restless and turbulent spirit; and having often
violated his loyalty to his elder brother and his sovereign, there
remained no hopes that he would passively submit to a woman, whom he
might, in quality of husband, think himself entitled to command: that
the French nation, so populous, so much abounding in soldiers, so full
of nobility who were devoted to arms, and for some time accustomed
to serve for plunder, would supply him with partisans, dangerous to a
people unwarlike and defenceless like the generality of her subjects:
that the plain and honorable path which she had followed, of cultivating
the affections of her people, had hitherto rendered her reign secure and
happy; and however her enemies might seem to multiply upon her, the same
invincible rampart was still able to protect and defend her: that so
long as the throne of France was filled by Henry or his posterity, it
was in vain to hope that the ties of blood would insure the amity of
that kingdom, preferably to the maxims of policy or the prejudices
of religion: and if ever the crown devolved on the duke of Anjou, the
conjunction of France and England would prove a burden, rather than a
protection, to the latter kingdom: that the example of her sister Mary
was sufficient to instruct her in the danger of such connections; and to
prove, that the affection and confidence of the English could never be
maintained, where they had such reason to apprehend that their interests
would every moment be sacrificed to those of a foreign and hostile
nation: that notwithstanding these great inconveniences, discovered by
past experience, the house of Burgundy, it must be confessed, was more
popular in the nation than the family of France; and, what was of chief
moment, Philip was of the same communion with Mary, and was connected
with her by this great band of interest and affection: and that however
the queen might remain childless, even though old age should grow upon
her, the singular felicity and glory of her reign would preserve her
from contempt; the affections of her subjects, and those of all the
Protestants in Europe, would defend her from danger; and her own
prudence, without other aid or assistance, would baffle all the efforts
of her most malignant enemies.[*]

* Letters of the Sidneys, vol i. p. 287, et seq. Cabala, p.
363

{1582.} These reflections kept the queen in great anxiety and
irresolution; and she was observed to pass several nights without any
sleep or repose. At last her settled habits of prudence and ambition
prevailed over her temporary inclination; and having sent for the duke
of Anjou, she had a long conference with him in private, where she was
supposed to have made him apologies for breaking her former engagements.
He expressed great disgust on his leaving her; threw away the ring which
she had given him; and uttered many curses on the mutability of women
and of islanders.[*] Soon after, he went over to his government of the
Netherlands; lost the confidence of the states by a rash and violent
attempt on their liberties; was expelled that country; retired into
France; and there died. The queen, by timely reflection, saved herself
from the numerous mischiefs which must have attended so imprudent a
marriage: and the distracted state of the French monarchy prevented
her from feeling any effects of that resentment which she had reason to
dread from the affront so wantonly put upon that royal family.

The anxiety of the queen from the attempts of the English Catholics
never ceased during the whole course of her reign; but the variety of
revolutions which happened in all the neighboring kingdoms, were the
source, sometimes of her hopes, sometimes of her apprehensions. This
year the affairs of Scotland strongly engaged her attention. The
influence which the earl of Lenox, and James Stuart, who now assumed
the title of earl of Arran, had acquired over the young king, was but a
slender foundation of authority; while the generality of the nobles, and
all the preachers, were so much discontented with their administration.
The assembly of the church appointed a solemn fast; of which one of the
avowed reasons was, the danger to which the king was exposed from the
company of wicked persons: [**] and on that day the pulpits resounded
with declamations against Lenox, Arran, and all the present counsellors.
When the minds of the people were sufficiently prepared by these
lectures, a conspiracy of the nobility was formed, probably with the
concurrence of Elizabeth, for seizing the person of James at Ruthven,
a seat of the earl of Gowry's; and the design, being kept secret,
succeeded without any opposition.

* Camden, p. 486.

** Spotswood, p. 319., Spotswood, p. 320.

The leaders in this enterprise were the earl of Gowry himself, the
earl of Marre, the lords Lindesey and Boyd, the masters of Glamis and
Oliphant, the abbots of Dunfermling, Paisley, and Cambuskenneth. The
king wept when he found himself detained a prisoner but the master
of Glamis said, "No matter for his tears, better that boys weep than
bearded men;" an expression which James could never afterwards forgive.
But notwithstanding his resentment, he found it necessary to submit
to the present necessity. He pretended an entire acquiescence in the
conduct of the associators; acknowledged the detention of his person
to be acceptable service; and agreed to summon both an assembly of the
church and a convention of estates, in order to ratify that enterprise.

The assembly, though they had established it as an inviolable rule, that
the king on no account, and under no pretence, should ever intermeddle
in ecclesiastical matters, made no scruple of taking civil affairs under
their cognizance, and of deciding, on this occasion, that the attempt of
the conspirators was acceptable to all that feared God, or tendered the
preservation of the king's person, and prosperous state of the realm.
They even enjoined all the clergy to recommend these sentiments from the
pulpit; and they threatened with ecclesiastical censures every man
who should oppose the authority of the confederated lords.[*] The
convention, being composed chiefly of these lords themselves, added
their sanction to these proceedings. Arran was confined a prisoner in
his own house: Lenox, though he had power to resist, yet, rather than
raise a civil war, or be the cause of bloodshed,[**] chose to retire
into France, where he soon after died. He persevered to the last in the
Protestant religion, to which James had converted him, but which the
Scottish clergy could never be persuaded that he had sincerely embraced.
The king sent for his family, restored his son to his paternal honors
and estate, took care to establish the fortunes of all his other
children, and to his last moments never forgot the early friendship
which he had borne their father; a strong proof of the good dispositions
of that prince.[***]

* Spotswood, p. 322.

** Heylin's Hist. Presbyter, p. 227. Spotswood.

*** Spotswood, p. 328.

No sooner was this revolution known in England, than the queen sent Sir
Henry Gary and Sir Robert Bowes to James in order to congratulate him
on his deliverance from the pernicious counsels of Lenox and Arran; to
exhort him not to resent the seeming violence committed on him by the
confederated lords; and to procure from him permission for the return
of the earl of Angus, who ever since Morton's fall had lived in England.
They easily prevailed in procuring the recall of Angus; and as James
suspected, that Elizabeth had not been entirely unacquainted with
the project of his detention, he thought proper, before the English
ambassadors, to dissemble his resentment against the authors of it.

{1583.} Soon after, La Mothe-Fenelon and Menneville appeared as
ambassadors from France: their errand was to inquire concerning the
situation of the king, make professions of their master's friendship,
confirm the ancient league with France, and procure an accommodation
between James and the queen of Scots. This last proposal gave great
umbrage to the clergy; and the assembly voted the settling of terms
between the mother and son to be a most wicked undertaking. The pulpits
resounded with declamations against the French ambassadors; particularly
Fenelon, whom they called the messenger of the bloody murderer, meaning
the duke of Guise: and as that minister, being knight of the Holy Ghost,
wore a white cross on his shoulder, they commonly denominated it, in
contempt, the badge of Antichrist. The king endeavored, though in
vain, to repress these insolent reflections; but in order to make the
ambassadors some compensation, he desired the magistrates of Edinburgh
to give them a splendid dinner before their departure. To prevent this
entertainment, the clergy appointed that very day for a public fast; and
finding that their orders were not regarded, they employed their sermons
in thundering curses on the magistrates, who, by the king's direction,
had put this mark of respect on the ambassadors. They even pursued them
afterwards with the censures of the church; and it was with difficulty
they were prevented from issuing the sentence of excommunication against
them, on account of their submission to royal, preferably to clerical
authority.[*]

* Spotswood, p. 324.

What increased their alarm with regard to an accommodation between James
and Mary was, that the English ambassadors seemed to concur with the
French in this proposal; and the clergy were so ignorant as to believe
the sincerity of the professions made by the former. The queen of
Scots had often made overtures to Elizabeth, which had been entirely
neglected; but hearing of James's detention, she wrote a letter in
a more pathetic and more spirited strain than usual; craving the
assistance of that princess, both for her own and her son's liberty. She
said, that the account of the prince's captivity had excited her most
tender concern; and the experience which she herself, during so many
years, had of the extreme infelicity attending that situation, had made
her the more apprehensive lest a like fate should pursue her unhappy
offspring: that the long train of injustice which she had undergone, the
calumnies to which she had been exposed, were so grievous, that finding
no place for right or truth among men she was reduced to make her last
appeal to Heaven, the only competent tribunal between princes of equal
jurisdiction degree, and dignity: that after her rebellious subjects,
secretly instigated by Elizabeth's ministers, had expelled her the
throne, had confined her in prison, had pursued her with arms, she had
voluntarily thrown herself under the protection of England; fatally
allured by those reiterated professions of amity which had been made
her, and by her confidence in the generosity of a friend, an ally, and
a kinswoman; that not content with excluding her from her presence,
with supporting the usurpers of her throne, with contributing to the
destruction of her faithful subjects, Elizabeth had reduced her to a
worse captivity than that from which she had escaped, and had made her
this cruel return for the unlimited confidence which she had reposed in
her: that though her resentment of such severe usage had never carried
her further than to use some disappointed efforts for her deliverance,
unhappy for herself, and fatal to others, she found the rigors of
confinement daily multiplied upon her; and at length carried to such a
height, that it surpassed the bounds of all human patience any longer to
endure them; that she was cut off from all communication, not only with
the rest of mankind, but with her only son, and her maternal fondness,
which was now more enlivened by their unhappy sympathy in situation, and
was her sole remaining attachment to this world, deprived even of
that melancholy solace which letters or messages could give: that the
bitterness of her sorrows, still more than her close confinement, had
preyed upon her health, and had added the insufferable weight of bodily
infirmity to all those other calamities under which she labored: that
while the daily experience of her maladies opened to her the comfortable
prospect of an approaching deliverance into a region where pain and
sorrow are no more, her enemies envied her that last consolation, and
having secluded her from every joy on earth, had done what in them lay
to debar her from all hopes in her future and eternal existence: that
the exercise of her religion was refused her; the use of those sacred
rites in which she had been educated, the commerce with those holy
ministers, whom Heaven had appointed to receive the acknowledgment of
our transgressions, and to seal our penitence by a solemn readmission
into heavenly favor and forgiveness: that it was in vain to complain of
the rigors of persecution exercised in other kingdoms; when a queen and
an innocent woman was excluded from an indulgence which never yet, in
the most barbarous countries, had been denied to the meanest and most
obnoxious malefactor: that could she ever be induced to descend from
that royal dignity in which Providence had placed her, or depart from
her appeal to Heaven, there was only one other tribunal to which she
would appeal from all her enemies; to the justice and humanity of
Elizabeth's own breast, and to that lenity which, uninfluenced by
malignant counsel, she would naturally be induced to exercise
towards her: and that she finally entreated her to resume her natural
disposition, and to reflect on the support, as well as comfort, which
she might receive from her son and herself, if, joining the obligations
of gratitude to the ties of blood, she would deign to raise them from
their present melancholy situation, and reinstate them in that liberty
and authority to which they were entitled.[*]

* Camden, p. 489,

Elizabeth was engaged to obstruct Mary's restoration, chiefly because
she foresaw an unhappy alternative attending that event. If this
princess recovered any considerable share of authority in Scotland, her
resentment, ambition, zeal, and connections both domestic and foreign,
might render her a dangerous neighbor to England, and enable her, after
suppressing the Protestant party among her subjects, to revive those
pretensions which she had formerly advanced to the crown, and which
her partisans in both kingdoms still supported with great industry and
assurance. If she were reinstated in power with such strict limitations
as could not be broken, she might be disgusted with her situation; and
flying abroad, form more desperate attempts than any sovereign, who had
a crown to hazard, would willingly undertake. Mary herself, sensible
of these difficulties, and convinced by experience that Elizabeth would
forever debar her the throne, was now become more humble in her wishes;
and as age and infirmities had repressed those sentiments of ambition
by which she had formerly been so much actuated, she was willing to
sacrifice all her hopes of grandeur, in order to obtain a liberty; a
blessing to which she naturally aspired with the fondest impatience. She
proposed, therefore, that she should be associated with her son in
the title to the crown of Scotland, but that the administration should
remain solely in him: and she was content to live in England in a
private station, and even under a kind of restraint; but with some more
liberty, both for exercise and company, than she had enjoyed since
the first discovery of her intrigues with the duke of Norfolk. But
Elizabeth, afraid lest such a loose method of guarding her would
facilitate her escape into France or Spain, or, at least, would
encourage and increase her partisans, and enable her to conduct those
intrigues to which she had already discovered so strong a propensity,
was secretly determined to deny her requests; and though she feigned to
assent to them, she well knew how to disappoint the expectations of the
unhappy princess. While Lenox maintained his authority in Scotland, she
never gave any reply to all the application made to her by the Scottish
queen: at present, when her own creatures had acquired possession of the
government, she was resolved to throw the odium of refusal upon
them; and pretending that nothing further was required to a perfect
accommodation than the concurrence of the council of state in Scotland,
she ordered her ambassador, Bowes, to open the negotiation for Mary's
liberty, and her association with her son in the title to the crown.
Though she seemed to make this concession to Mary she refused her the
liberty of sending any ambassador of her own; and that princess could
easily conjecture, from this circumstance, what would be the result of
the pretended negotiation. The privy council of Scotland, instigated
by the clergy, rejected all treaty; and James, who was now a captive in
their hands, affirmed, that he had never agreed to an association with
his mother, and that the matter had never gone further than some loose
proposals for that purpose.[*]

** MS. in the Advocates' Library, A. 3, 28, p. 401, from the
Cott Lib. Calig. c. 9.

The affairs of Scotland remained not long in the present situation.
James, impatient of restraint, made his escape from his keepers; and
flying to St. Andrews, summoned his friends and partisans to attend
him. The earls of Argyle, Marshal, Montrose, and Rothes, hastened to pay
their duty to their sovereign; and the opposite party found themselves
unable to resist so powerful a combination. They were offered a pardon,
upon their submission, and an acknowledgment of their fault in seizing
the king's person and restraining him from his liberty. Some of them
accepted of the terms; the greater number, particularly Angus, Hamilton,
Marre, Glamis, left the country, and took shelter in Ireland or England,
where they were protected by Elizabeth. The earl of Arran was recalled
to court; and the malecontents, who could not brook the authority of
Lenox, a man of virtue and moderation, found, that by their resistance,
they had thrown all power into the hands of a person whose counsels were
as violent as his manners were profligate.[*]

Elizabeth wrote a letter to James, in which she quoted a moral sentence
from Isocrates, and indirectly reproached him with inconstancy, and a
breach of his engagements. James, in his reply, justified his measures;
and retaliated, by turning two passages of Isocrates against her.[**]
She next sent Walsingham on an embassy to him; and her chief purpose in
employing that aged minister in an errand where so little business was
to be transacted, was to learn, from a man of so much penetration and
experience, the real character of James. This young prince possessed
good parts, though not accompanied with that vigor and industry which
his station required; and as he excelled in general discourse and
conversation, Walsingham entertained a higher idea of his talents than
he was afterwards found, when real business was transacted, to have
fully merited.[***] The account which he gave his mistress induced her
to treat James thenceforth with some more regard than she had hitherto
been inclined to pay him.

* Spotswood, p. 325, 326, et seq.

** Melvil, p. 140, 141. Strype, vol. iii. p. 156.

*** Melvil, p. 148. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 530.

{1584.} The king of Scots, persevering in his present views, summoned
a parliament; where it was enacted, that no clergyman should presume in
his sermons to utter false, untrue, or scandalous speeches against the
king, the council, or the public measures; or to meddle, in an improper
manner, with the affairs of his majesty and the states,[*] The clergy,
finding that the pulpit would be no longer a sanctuary for them, were
extremely offended; they said that the king was become Popish in his
heart; and they gave their adversaries the epithets of gross libertines,
belly-gods, and infamous persons.[**]

* Spotswood. p. 333

** Spotswood. p. 334.

The violent conduct of Arran soon brought over the popularity to their
side. The earl of Gowry, though pardoned for the late attempt, was
committed to prison, was tried on some new accusations, condemned,
and executed. Many innocent persons suffered from the tyranny of this
favorite; and the banished lords, being assisted by Elizabeth, now found
the time favorable for the recovery of their estates and authority.
After they had been foiled in one attempt upon Stirling, they prevailed
in another; and being admitted to the king's presence, were pardoned,
and restored to his favor.

Arran was degraded from authority, deprived of that estate and title
which he had usurped, and the whole country seemed to be composed to
tranquillity. Elizabeth, after opposing during some time the credit of
the favorite, had found it more expedient, before his fall, to compound
all differences with him, by means of Davison, a minister whom she
sent to Scot land; but having more confidence in the lords whom she had
helped to restore, she was pleased with this alteration of affairs;
and maintained a good correspondence with the new court and ministry of
James.

These revolutions in Scotland would have been regarded as of small
importance to the repose and security of Elizabeth, had her own subjects
been entirely united, and had not the zeal of the Catholics, excited
by constraint more properly than persecution, daily threatened her
with some dangerous insurrection. The vigilance of the ministers,
particularly of Burleigh and Walsingham, was raised in proportion to the
activity of the malecontents; and many arts, which had been blamable in
a more peaceful government, were employed in detecting conspiracies,
and even discovering the secret inclinations of men. Counterfeit letters
were written in the name of the queen of Scots, or of the English
exiles, and privately conveyed to the houses of the Catholics: spies
were hired to observe the actions and discourse of suspected persons:
informers were countenanced; and though the sagacity of these two
great ministers helped them to distinguish the true from the false
intelligence, many calumnies were no doubt hearkened to, and all the
subjects, particularly the Catholics, kept in the utmost anxiety and
inquietude. Henry Piercy, earl of Northumberland, brother to the earl
beheaded some years before, and Philip Howard, earl of Arundel, son of
the unfortunate duke of Norfolk, fell under suspicion; and the
latter was, by order of council, confined to his own house. Francis
Throgmorton, a private gentleman, was committed to custody, on account
of a letter which he had written to the queen of Scots, and which was
intercepted. Lord Paget and Charles Arundel, who had been engaged with
him in treasonable designs, immediately withdrew beyond sea. Throgmorton
confessed that a plan for an invasion and insurrection had been laid;
and though, on his trial, he was desirous of retracting this confession,
and imputing it to the fear of torture, he was found guilty and
executed. Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador, having promoted this
conspiracy, was ordered to depart the kingdom; and Wade was sent into
Spain, to excuse his dismission, and to desire the king to send another
ambassador in his place; but Philip would not so much as admit the
English ambassador to his presence. Creighton, a Scottish Jesuit,
coming over on board a vessel which was seized, tore some papers with an
intention of throwing them into the sea; but the wind blowing them back
upon the ship, they were pieced together, and discovered some dangerous
secrets.[*]

Many of these conspiracies were, with great appearance of reason,
imputed to the intrigues of the queen of Scots; [**] and as her name was
employed in all of them, the council thought that they could not use
too many precautions against the danger of her claims, and the restless
activity of her temper. She was removed from under the care of the earl
of Shrewsbury, who, though vigilant and faithful in that trust, had
also been indulgent to his prisoner, particularly with regard to air and
exercise; and she was committed to the custody of Sir Amias Paulet
and Sir Drue Drury; men of honor, but inflexible in their care and
attention. An association was also set on foot by the earl of Leicester
and other courtiers; and as Elizabeth was beloved by the whole nation,
except the more zealous Catholics, men of all ranks willingly flocked
to the subscription of it. The purport of this association was to defend
the queen, to revenge her death, or any injury committed against her,
and to exclude from the throne all claimants, what title soever they
might possess, by whose suggestion or for whose behoof any violence
should be offered to her majesty,[***] The queen of Scots was sensible
that this association was levelled against her; and to remove all
suspicion from herself, she also desired leave to subscribe it.

* Camden, p. 499.

** Strype, vol. lii. p. 246.

*** State Trials, vol i. p. 122, 123.

Elizabeth, that she might the more discourage malecontents, by showing
them the concurrence of the nation in her favor, summoned a new
parliament; and she met with that dutiful attachment which she expected.
The association was confirmed by parliament; and a clause was added by
which the queen was empowered to name commissioners for the trial of
any pretender to the crown, who should attempt or imagine any invasion,
insurrection, or assassination against her: upon condemnation pronounced
by these commissioners, the guilty person was excluded from all claim to
the succession, and was further punishable as her majesty should direct.
And for greater security, a council of regency, in case of the queen's
violent death, was appointed to govern the kingdom, to settle the
succession, and to take vengeance for that act of treason.[*]

A severe law was also enacted against Jesuits and Popish priests: it was
ordained, that they should depart the kingdom within forty days; that
those who should remain beyond that time, or should afterwards return,
should be guilty of treason; that those who harbored or relieved them
should be guilty of felony; that those who were educated in seminaries,
if they returned not in six months after notice given, and submitted
not themselves to the queen, before a bishop or two justices, should be
guilty of treason; and that if any, so submitting themselves, should,
within ten years, approach the court, or come within ten miles of it,
their submission should be void.[**] By this law, the exercise of the
Catholic religion, which had formerly been prohibited under lighter
penalties, and which was in many instances connived at, was totally
suppressed. In the subsequent part of the queen's reign, the law was
sometimes executed by the capital punishment of priests; and though the
partisans of that princess asserted that they were punished for their
treason, not their religion, the apology must only be understood in this
sense, that the law was enacted on account of the treasonable views and
attempts of the sect, not that every individual who suffered the penalty
of the law was convicted of treason.[***] The Catholics, therefore,
might now with justice complain of a violent persecution; which we may
safety affirm, in spite of the rigid and bigoted maxims of that age, not
to be the best method of converting them, or of reconciling them to the
established government and religion.

* 27 Eliz. cap. 1.

* 27 Eliz. cap. 2.

* Some even of those who defend the queen's measures, allow
that in ten years fifty priests were executed, and fifty-
five banished Camden, p. 649.

The parliament, besides arming the queen with these powers, granted her
a supply of one subsidy and two fifteenths. The only circumstance in
which their proceedings were disagreeable to her, was an application,
made by the commons, for a further reformation in ecclesiastical
matters. Yet even in this attempt, which affected her, as well as them,
in a delicate point, they discovered how much they were overawed by her
authority. The majority of the house were Puritans, or inclined to that
sect;[*] but the severe reprimands which they had already, in former
sessions, met with from the throne deterred them from introducing any
bill concerning religion; a proceeding which would have been interpreted
as an encroachment on the prerogative: they were content to proceed by
way of humble petition, and that not addressed to her majesty, which
would have given offence, but to the house of lords, or rather the
bishops, who had a seat in that house, and from whom alone they were
willing to receive all advances towards reformation;[**] a strange
departure from what we now apprehend to be the dignity of the commons!

* Besides the petition after mentioned, another proof of the
prevalency of the Puritans among the commons was, their
passing a bill for the reverent observance of Sunday, which
they termed the Sabbath, and the depriving the people of
those amusements which they were accustomed to take on that
day. D'Ewes, p. 335. It was a strong symptom of a contrary
spirit in the upper house, that they proposed to add
Wednesday to the fast days, and to prohibit entirely the
eating of flesh on that day. D'Ewes, p. 373.

* D'Ewes, p. 357

The commons desired, in their humble petition, that no bishop should
exercise his function of ordination but with the consent and concurrence
of six presbyters: but this demand, as it really introduced a change
of ecclesiastical government, was firmly rejected by the prelates.
They desired, that no clergyman should be instituted into any benefice
without previous notice being given to the parish, that they might
examine whether there lay any objection to his life or doctrine; an
attempt towards a popular model, which naturally met with the same fate.
In another article of the petition, they prayed that the bishops should
not insist upon every ceremony, or deprive incumbents for omitting
part of the service; as if uniformity in public worship had not been
established by law; or as if the prelates had been endowed with
a dispensing power. They complained of abuses which prevailed in
pronouncing the sentence of excommunication, and they entreated the
reverend fathers to think of some law for the remedy of these abuses:
implying that those matters were too high for the commons of themselves
to attempt.

But the most material article which the commons touched upon in their
petition, was the court of ecclesiastical commission, and the oath "ex
officio," as it was called, exacted by that court. This is a subject of
such importance as to merit some explanation.

The first primate after the queen's accession, was Parker; a man rigid
in exacting conformity to the established worship, and in punishing,
by fine or deprivation, all the Puritanical clergymen who attempted to
innovate any thing in the habits, ceremonies, or liturgy of the church.
He died in 1575; and was succeeded by Grindal, who, as he himself was
inclined to the new sect, was with great difficulty brought to execute
the laws against them, or to punish the nonconforming clergy.
He declined obeying the queen's orders for the suppression of
"prophesyings," or the assemblies of the zealots in private houses,
which, she apprehended, had become so many academies of fanaticism; and
for this offence she had, by an order of the star chamber, sequestered
him from his archiepiscopal function, and confined him to his own house.
Upon his death, which happened in 1583, she determined not to fall into
the same error in her next choice; and she named Whitgift, a zealous
Churchman, who had already signalized his pen in controversy, and who,
having in vain attempted to convince the Puritans by argument, was now
resolved to open their eyes by power, and by the execution of penal
statutes. He informed the queen, that all the spiritual authority lodged
in the prelates was insignificant without the sanction of the crown;
and as there was no ecclesiastical commission at that time in force, he
engaged her to issue a new one, more arbitrary than any of the former,
and conveying more unlimited authority.[*]

* Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. i. p. 410.

She appointed forty-four commissioners, twelve of whom were
ecclesiastics; three commissioners made a quorum; the jurisdiction of
the court extended over the whole kingdom and over all orders of
men; and every circumstance of its authority, and all its methods of
proceeding, were contrary to the clearest principles of law and natural
equity. The commissioners were empowered to visit and reform all errors,
heresies, schisms, in a word, to regulate all opinions, as well as to
punish all breach of uniformity in the exercise of public worship. They
were directed to make inquiry, not only by the legal methods of juries
and witnesses, but by all other means and ways which they could devise;
that is, by the rack, by torture, by inquisition, by imprisonment Where
they found reason to suspect any person, they might administer to him
an oath, called "ex officio," by which he was bound to answer all
questions, and might thereby be obliged to accuse himself or his most
intimate friend. The fines which they levied were discretionary,
and often occasioned the total ruin of the offender, contrary to
the established laws of the kingdom. The imprisonment to which they
condemned any delinquent, was limited by no rule but their own pleasure.
They assumed a power of imposing on the clergy what new articles of
subscription, and consequently of faith, they thought proper. Though
all other spiritual courts were subject, since the reformation,
to inhibitions from the supreme courts of law, the ecclesiastical
commissioners were exempted from that legal jurisdiction, and were
liable to no control. And the more to enlarge their authority, they were
empowered to punish all incests, adulteries, fornications; all outrages,
misbehaviors, and disorders in marriage: and the punishments which
they might inflict, were according to their wisdom, conscience, and
discretion. In a word, this court was a real inquisition; attended
with all the iniquities, as well as cruelties, inseparable from that
tribunal. And as the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical court was
destructive of all law, so its erection was deemed by many a mere
usurpation of this imperious princess; and had no other foundation
than a clause of a statute, restoring the supremacy to the crown, and
empowering the sovereign to appoint commissioners for exercising that
prerogative. But prerogative in general, especially the supremacy,
was supposed in that age to involve powers which no law, precedent, or
reason could limit and determine.

But though the commons, in their humble petition to the prelates, had
touched so gently and submissively on the ecclesiastical grievances, the
queen, in a speech from the throne at the end of the session, could not
forbear taking notice of their presumption, and reproving them for those
murmurs which, for fear of offending her, they had pronounced so low
as not directly to reach her royal ears. After giving them some general
thanks for their attachment to her, and making professions of affection
to her subjects, she told them, that whoever found fault with the church
threw a slander upon her, since she was appointed by God supreme ruler
over it; and no heresies or schisms could prevail in the kingdom but by
her permission and negligence: that some abuses must necessarily have
place in every thing; but she warned the prelates to be watchful; for
if she found them careless of their charge, she was fully determined to
depose them: that she was commonly supposed to have employed herself
in many studies, particularly philosophical, (by which, I suppose, she
meant theological,) and she would confess, that few whose leisure had
not allowed them to make profession of science, had read or reflected
more: that as she could discern the presumption of many, in curiously
canvassing the Scriptures, and starting innovations, she would no longer
endure this licentiousness; but meant to guide her people by God's
rule in the just mean between the corruptions of Rome and the errors of
modern sectaries: and that as the Romanists were the inveterate enemies
of her person, so the other innovators were dangerous to all kingly
government; and, under color of preaching the word of God, presumed
to exercise their private judgment, and to censure the actions of the
prince.[*]

From the whole of this transaction we may observe, that the commons,
in making their general application to the prelates, as well as in
some particular articles of their petition, showed themselves wholly
ignorant, no less than the queen, of the principles of liberty and
a legal constitution. And it may not be unworthy of remark, that
Elizabeth, so far from yielding to the displeasure of the parliament
against the ecclesiastical commission, granted, before the end of her
reign, a new commission; in which she enlarged, rather than restrained,
the powers of the commissioners.[**] [18]

* See note R, at the end of the volume.

** Rymer, vol. xvi p. 292, 386, 400.

During this session of parliament, there was discovered a conspiracy,
which much increased the general animosity against the Catholics, and
still further widened the breach between the religious parties. William
Parry, a Catholic gentleman, had received the queen's pardon for a
crime by which he was exposed to capital punishment; and having obtained
permission to travel, he retired to Milan, and made open profession of
his religion, which he had concealed while he remained in England. He
was here persuaded by Palmio, a Jesuit, that he could not perform a more
meritorious action than to take away the life of his sovereign and his
benefactress; the nuncio Campeggio, when consulted, approved extremely
of this pious undertaking; and Parry, though still agitated with doubts,
came to Paris with an intention of passing over to England and executing
his bloody purpose. He was here encouraged in the design by Thomas
Morgan, a gentleman of great credit in the party; and though Watts and
some other Catholic priests told him that the enterprise was criminal
and impious, he preferred the authority of Raggazzoni, the nuncio at
Paris, and determined to persist in his resolution. He here wrote a
letter to the pope, which was conveyed to Cardinal Como; he communicated
his intention to the holy father, and craved his absolution and paternal
benediction. He received an answer from the cardinal, by which he found
that his purpose was extremely applauded; and he came over to England
with a full design of carrying it into execution. So deeply are
the sentiments of morality engraved in the human breast, that it is
difficult even for the prejudices of false religion totally to efface
them; and this bigoted assassin resolved, before he came to extremities,
to try every other expedient for alleviating the persecutions under
which the Catholics at that time labored. He found means of being
introduced to the queen; assured her that many conspiracies were formed
against her; and exhorted her, as she tendered her life, to give the
Romanists some more indulgence in the exercise of their religion: but,
lest he should be tempted by the opportunity to assassinate her, he
always came to court unprovided with every offensive weapon. He even
found means to be elected member of parliament: and having made a
vehement harangue against the severe laws enacted this last session, was
committed to custody for his freedom, and sequestered from the house.
His failure in these attempts confirmed him the more in his former
resolution; and he communicated his intentions to Nevil, who entered
zealously into the design, and was determined to have a share in the
merits of its execution. A book newly published by Dr. Allen, afterwards
created a cardinal, served further to efface all their scruples with
regard to the murder of an heretical prince; and having agreed to
shoot the queen while she should be taking the air on horseback, they
resolved, if they could not make their escape, to sacrifice their lives
in fulfilling a duty so agreeable, as they imagined, to the will of God
and to true religion. But while they were watching an opportunity for
the execution of their purpose, the earl of Westmoreland happened to
die in exile; and as Nevil was next heir to that family, he began to
entertain hopes that, by doing some acceptable service to the queen,
he might recover the estate and honors which had been forfeited by the
rebellion of the last earl. He betrayed the whole conspiracy to the
ministers; and Parry, being thrown into prison, confessed the guilt both
to them and to the jury who tried him. The letter from Cardinal Como,
being produced in court, put Parry's narrative beyond all question;
and that criminal, having received sentence of death,[*] suffered the
punishment which the law appointed for his treasonable conspiracy.[**]
[19]

These bloody designs now appeared every where, as the result of that
bigoted spirit by which the two religions, especially the Catholic, were
at this time actuated. Somerville, a gentleman of the county of Warwick,
somewhat disordered in his understanding, had heard so much of the merit
attending the assassination of heretics and persecutors, that he came
to London with a view of murdering the queen; but having betrayed his
design by some extravagances, he was thrown into prison, and there
perished by a voluntary death.[***]

* State Trials, vol. i. p. 103, et seq. Strype, vol. iii. p.
255, et seq.

** See note S, at the end of the volume.

*** Camden, p. 495.

About the same time, Baltazar Gerard, a Burgundian, undertook and
executed the same design against the prince of Orange; and that great
man perished at Delft, by the hands of a desperate assassin, who, with
a resolution worthy of a better cause, sacrificed his own life, in order
to destroy the famous restorer and protector of religious liberty. The
Flemings, who regarded that prince as their father, were filled with
great sorrow, as well when they considered the miserable end of so brave
a patriot, as their own forlorn condition, from the loss of so powerful
and prudent a leader, and from the rapid progress of the Spanish arms.
The prince of Parma had made, every year great advances upon them, had
reduced several of the provinces to obedience, and had laid close siege
to Antwerp, the richest and most populous city of the Netherlands, whose
subjection, it was foreseen, would give a mortal blow to the already
declining affairs of the revolted provinces. The only hopes which
remained to them arose from the prospect of foreign succor. Being
well acquainted with the cautious and frugal maxims of Elizabeth, they
expected better success in France; and in the view of engaging Henry
to embrace their defence, they tendered him the sovereignty of their
provinces.

{1585.} But the present condition of that monarchy obliged the king to
reject so advantageous an offer. The duke of Anjou's death, which, he
thought would have tended to restore public tranquillity in delivering
him from the intrigues of that prince, plunged him into the deepest
distress; and the king of Navarre, a professed Hugonot, being next
heir to the crown, the duke of Guise took thence occasion to revive the
Catholic league, and to urge Henry, by the most violent expedients, to
seek the exclusion of that brave and virtuous prince. Henry himself,
though a zealous Catholic, yet, because he declined complying with their
precipitate measures, became an object of aversion to the league; and as
his zeal in practising all the superstitious observances of the Romish
church, was accompanied with a very licentious conduct in private life,
the Catholic faction, in contradiction to universal experience, embraced
thence the pretext of representing his devotion as mere deceit and
hypocrisy. Finding his authority to decline, he was obliged to declare
war against the Hugonots, and to put arms into the hands of the league,
whom, both on account of their dangerous pretensions at home and their
close alliance with Philip, he secretly regarded as his more dangerous
enemies. Constrained by the same policy, he dreaded the danger of
associating himself with the revolted Protestants in the Low Countries,
and was obliged to renounce that inviting opportunity of revenging
himself for all the hostile intrigues and enterprises of Philip.

The states, reduced to this extremity, sent over a solemn embassy to
London, and made anew an offer to the queen of acknowledging her
for their sovereign, on condition of obtaining her protection and
assistance. Elizabeth's wisest counsellors were divided in opinion
with regard to the conduct which she should hold in this critical and
important emergence. Some advised her to reject the offer of the states,
and represented the imminent dangers, as well as injustice, attending
the acceptance of it. They said, that the suppression of rebellious
subjects was the common cause of all sovereigns; and any encouragement
given to the revolt of the Flemings, might prove the example of a like
pernicious license to the English; that though princes were bound by
the laws of the Supreme Being not to oppress their subjects, the people
never were entitled to forget all duty to their sovereign, or transfer,
from every fancy or disgust, or even from the justest ground of
complaint, their obedience to any other master: that the queen, in the
succors hitherto afforded the Flemings, had considered them as laboring
under oppression, not as entitled to freedom; and had intended only to
admonish Philip not to persevere in his tyranny, without any view of
ravishing from him those provinces, which he enjoyed by hereditary right
from his ancestors: that her situation in Ireland, and even in England,
would afford that powerful monarch sufficient opportunity of retaliating
upon her; and she must thenceforth expect that, instead of secretly
fomenting faction, he would openly employ his whole force in the
protection and defence of the Catholics: that the pope would undoubtedly
unite his spiritual arms to the temporal ones of Spain: and that the
queen would soon repent her making so precarious an acquisition in
foreign countries, by exposing her own dominions to the most imminent
danger.[*]

* Camden, p. 507., Bentivoglio, part ii. lib iv.

Other counsellors of Elizabeth maintained a contrary opinion. They
asserted, that the queen had not even from the beginning of her reign,
but certainly had not at present, the choice whether she would embrace
friendship or hostility with Philip: that by the whole tenor of that
prince's conduct it appeared, that his sole aims were the extending
of his empire, and the entire subjection of the Protestants, under
the specious pretence of maintaining the Catholic faith: that the
provocations which she had already given him, joined to his general
scheme of policy, would forever render him her implacable enemy; and as
soon as he had subdued his revolted subjects, he would undoubtedly fall,
with the whole force of his united empire, on her defenceless state:
that the only question was, whether she would maintain a war abroad, and
supported by allies, or wait till the subjection of all the confederates
of England should give her enemies leisure to begin their hostilities
in the bowels of the kingdom: that the revolted provinces, though in
a declining condition, possessed still considerable force; and by the
assistance of England, by the advantages of their situation, and by
their inveterate antipathy to Philip, might still be enabled to maintain
the contest against the Spanish monarchy that their maritime power,
united to the queen's, would give her entire security on the side from
which alone she could be assaulted; and would even enable her to make
inroads on Philip's dominions, both in Europe and the Indies: that a
war which was necessary could never be unjust; and self-defence was
concerned as well in preventing certain dangers at a distance, as in
repelling any immediate invasion: and that, since hostility with Spain
was the unavoidable consequence of the present interests and situations
of the two monarchies, it were better to compensate that danger and loss
by the acquisition of such important provinces to the English empire.[*]

* Camden, p. 507. Bentivoglio, part ii. lib iv.

Amidst these opposite counsels, the queen, apprehensive of the
consequences attending each extreme, was inclined to steer a middle
course; and though such conduct is seldom prudent, she was not, in
this resolution, guided by any prejudice or mistaken affection. She was
determined not to permit, without opposition, the total subjection of
the revolted provinces, whose interests she deemed so closely connected
with her own: but foreseeing that the acceptance of their sovereignty
would oblige her to employ her whole force in their defence, would
give umbrage to her neighbors, and would expose her to the reproach of
ambition and usurpation,--imputations which hitherto she had carefully
avoided,--she immediately rejected this offer. She concluded a league
with the states on the following conditions: that she should send over
an army to their assistance, of five thousand foot and a thousand horse,
and pay them during the war; that the general, and two others whom she
should appoint, should be admitted into the council of the states; that
neither party should make peace without the consent of the other; that
her expenses should be refunded after the conclusion of the war; and
that the towns of Flushing and the Brille, with the Castle of Rammekins,
should, in the mean time, be consigned into her hands by way of
security.

The queen knew that this measure would immediately engage her in open
hostilities with Philip; yet was not she terrified with the view of the
present greatness of that monarch. The continent of Spain was at that
time rich and populous; and the late addition of Portugal, besides
securing internal tranquillity, had annexed an opulent kingdom to
Philip's dominions, had made him master of many settlements in the
East Indies, and of the whole commerce of those regions, and had much
increased his naval power, in which he was before chiefly deficient. All
the princes of Italy, even the pope and the court of Rome, were
reduced to a kind of subjection under him, and seemed to possess
their sovereignty on terms somewhat precarious. The Austrian branch in
Germany, with their dependent principalities, was closely connected with
him, and was ready to supply him with troops for every enterprise. All
the treasures of the West Indies were in his possession; and the present
scarcity of the precious metals in every country of Europe, rendered the
influence of his riches the more forcible and extensive. The Netherlands
seemed on the point of relapsing into servitude; and small hopes were
entertained of their withstanding those numerous and veteran armies,
which, under the command of the most experienced generals, he employed
against them. Even France, which was wont to counterbalance the Austrian
greatness, had lost all her force from intestine commotions; and as the
Catholics, the ruling party, were closely connected with him, he rather
expected thence an augmentation than a diminution of his power. Upon the
whole, such prepossessions were every where entertained concerning the
force of the Spanish monarchy, that the king of Sweden, when he heard
that Elizabeth had openly embraced the defence of the revolted Flemings,
scrupled not to say, that she had now taken the diadem from her head,
and had adventured it upon the doubtful chance of war.[*]

* Camden, p 508.

Yet was this princess rather cautious than enterprising in her
natural temper: she ever needed more to be impelled by the vigor,
than restrained by the prudence, of her ministers: but when she saw
an evident necessity, she braved danger with magnanimous courage; and
trusting to her own consummate wisdom, and to the affections, however
divided, of her people, she prepared herself to resist, and even to
assault, the whole force of the Catholic monarch.

The earl of Leicester was sent over to Holland at the head of the
English auxiliary forces. He carried with him a splendid retinue; being
accompanied by the young earl of Essex, his son-in-law, the lords Audley
and North, Sir William Russel, Sir Thomas Shirley, Sir Arthur Basset,
Sir Walter Waller, Sir Gervase Clifton, and a select troop of five
hundred gentlemen. He was received on his arrival at Flushing by his
nephew, Sir Philip Sidney, the governor; and every town through which he
passed expressed their joy by acclamations and triumphal arches, as
if his presence and the queen's protection had brought them the most
certain deliverance. The states, desirous of engaging Elizabeth still
further in their defence, and knowing the interest which Leicester
possessed with her, conferred on him the title of governor and
captain-general of the united provinces, appointed a guard to attend
him, and treated him in some respects as their sovereign. But this step
had a contrary effect to what they expected. The queen was displeased
with the artifice of the states, and the ambition of Leicester. She
severely reprimanded both; and it was with some difficulty that, after
many humble admissions, they were able to appease her.

America was regarded as the chief source of Philip's power, as well as
the most defenceless part of his dominions, and Elizabeth, finding that
an open breach with that monarch was unavoidable, resolved not to leave
him unmolested in that quarter. The great success of the Spaniards and
Portuguese in both Indies had excited a spirit of emulation in England;
and as the progress of commerce, still more that of colonies, is slow
and gradual, it was happy that a war in this critical period had opened
a more flattering prospect to the avarice and ambition of the English,
and had tempted them, by the view of sudden and exorbitant profit, to
engage in naval enterprises. A fleet of twenty sail was equipped to
attack the Spaniards in the West Indies: two thousand three hundred
volunteers, besides seamen, engaged on board of it; Sir Francis Drake
was appointed admiral; Christopher Carlisle, commander of the land
forces.

{1586.} They took St. Jago, near Cape Verde, by surprise; and found in
it plenty of provisions, but no riches. They sailed to Hispaniola; and
easily making themselves masters of St. Domingo by assault, obliged the
inhabitants to ransom their houses by a sum of money. Carthagena fell
next into their hands, after some more resistance, and was treated in
the same manner. They burnt St. Anthony and St. Helens, two towns on the
coast of Florida. Sailing along the coast of Virginia, they found the
small remains of a colony which had been planted there by Sir Walter
Raleigh, and which had gone extremely to decay. This was the first
attempt of the English to form such settlements; and though they have
since surpassed all European nations, both in the situation of their
colonies, and in the noble principles of liberty and industry on which
they are founded, they had here been so unsuccessful, that the miserable
planters abandoned their settlements, and prevailed on Drake to carry
them with him to England. He returned with so much riches as encouraged
the volunteers, and with such accounts of the Spanish weakness in those
countries, as served extremely to inflame the spirits of the nation to
future enterprises. The great mortality which the climate had produced
in his fleet was, as is usual, but a feeble restraint on the avidity and
sanguine hopes of young adventurers.[*] It is thought that Drake's fleet
first introduced the use of tobacco into England.

* Camden, p. 509.

The enterprises of Leicester were much less successful than those of
Drake. This man possessed neither courage nor capacity equal to the
trust reposed in him by the queen; and as he was the only bad choice she
made for any considerable employment, men naturally believed that she
had here been influenced by an affection still more partial than that of
friendship. He gained, at first, some advantage in an action against the
Spaniards; and threw succors into Grave, by which that place was enabled
to make a vigorous defence: but the cowardice of the governor, Van
Hemert, rendered all these efforts useless. He capitulated after a
feeble resistance; and being tried for his conduct, suffered a capital
punishment from the sentence of a court martial. The prince of Parma
next undertook the siege of Venlo, which was surrendered to him after
some resistance. The fate of Nuys was more dismal; being taken by
assault, while the garrison was treating of a capitulation. Rhimberg,
which was garrisoned by twelve hundred English, under the command of
Colonel Morgan, was afterwards besieged by the Spaniards; and Leicester,
thinking himself too weak to attempt raising the siege, endeavored to
draw off the prince of Parma by forming another enterprise. He first
attacked Doesberg, and succeeded: he then sat down before Zutphen, which
the Spanish general thought so important a fortress, that he hastened to
its relief. He made the marquis of Guasto advance with a convoy, which
he intended to throw into the place. They were favored by a fog; but
falling by accident on a body of English cavalry, a furious action
ensued, in which the Spaniards were worsted, and the marquis of Gonzaga,
an Italian nobleman of great reputation and family was slain. The
pursuit was stopped by the advance of the prince of Parma with the main
body of the Spanish army; and the English cavalry, on their return from
the field, found their advantage more than compensated by the loss
of Sir Philip Sidney, who, being mortally wounded in the action,
was carried off by the soldiers, and soon after died. This person is
described by the writers of that age, as the most perfect model of
an accomplished gentleman that could be formed even by the wanton
imagination of poetry or fiction. Virtuous conduct, polite conversation,
heroic valor, and elegant erudition, all concurred to render him the
ornament and delight of the English court; and as the credit which he
possessed with the queen and the earl of Leicester was wholly employed
in the encouragement of genius and literature, his praises have been
transmitted with advantage to posterity. No person was so low as not to
become an object of his humanity. After this last action, while he was
lying on the field mangled with wounds, a bottle of water was brought
him to relieve his thirst; but observing a soldier near him in a like
miserable condition, he said, "This man's necessity is still greater
than mine;" and resigned to him the bottle of water. The king of Scots,
struck with admiration of Sidney's virtue, celebrated his memory in a
copy of Latin verses, which he composed on the death of that young hero.

[Illustration: 1-553-sidney.jpg SIR PHILIP SIDNEY]

The English, though a long peace had deprived them of all experience,
were strongly possessed of military genius; and the advantages gained
by the prince of Parma were not attributed to the superior bravery
and discipline of the Spaniards, but solely to the want of military
abilities in Leicester. The states were much discontented with his
management of the war; still more with his arbitrary and imperious
conduct; and at the end of the campaign, they applied to him for a
redress of all their grievances. But Leicester, without giving them any
satisfaction, departed soon after for England.[*]

* Camden, p. 512. Bentivoglio, part ii. lib. iv.

The queen, while she provoked so powerful an enemy as the king of Spain,
was not forgetful to secure herself on the side of Scotland; and she
endeavored both to cultivate the friendship and alliance of her kinsman
James, and to remove all grounds of quarrel between them. An attempt
which she had made some time before was not well calculated to gain Ihe
confidence of that prince. She had despatched Wotton as her ambassador
to Scotland; but though she gave him private instructions with regard
to her affairs, she informed James, that when she had any political
business to discuss with him, she would employ another minister; that
this man was not fitted for serious negotiations; and that her chief
purpose in sending him, was to entertain the king with witty and
facetious conversation, and to partake without reserve of his pleasures
and amusements. Wotton was master of profound dissimulation, and knew
how to cover, under the appearance of a careless gayety, the deepest
designs and most dangerous artifices. When but a youth of twenty, he had
been employed by his uncle, Dr. Wotton, ambassador in France during the
reign of Mary, to insnare the constable Montmorency; and had not his
purpose been frustrated by pure accident, his cunning had prevailed over
all the caution and experience of that aged minister. It is no wonder
that, after years had improved him in all the arts of deceit, he should
gain an ascendant over a young prince of so open and unguarded a temper
as James; especially when the queen's recommendation prepared the way
for his reception. He was admitted into all the pleasures of the king;
made himself master of his secrets; and had so much the more authority
with him in political transactions, as he did not seem to pay the least
attention to these matters. The Scottish ministers, who observed the
growing interest of this man, endeavored to acquire his friendship; and
scrupled not to sacrifice to his intrigues the most essential interests
of their master. Elizabeth's usual jealousies with regard to her heirs
began now to be levelled against James; and as that prince had attained
the years proper for marriage, she was apprehensive lest, by being
strengthened by children and alliances, he should acquire the greater
interest and authority with her English subjects. She directed Wotton to
form a secret concert with some Scottish noblemen, and to procure their
promise, that James, during three years, should not on any account be
permitted to marry. In consequence of this view, they endeavored to
embroil him with the king of Denmark, who had sent ambassadors to
Scotland on pretence of demanding restitution of the Orkneys, but really
with a view of opening a proposal of marriage between James and his
daughter. Wotton is said to have employed his intrigues to purposes
still more dangerous. He formed, it is pretended, a conspiracy with some
malecontents, to seize the person of the king, and to deliver him into
the hands of Elizabeth, who would probably have denied all concurrence
in the design, but would have been sure to retain him in perpetual
thraldom, if not captivity. The conspiracy was detected; and Wotton fled
hastily from Scotland, without taking leave of the king.[*]

James's situation obliged him to dissemble his resentment of this
traitorous attempt, and his natural temper inclined him soon to
forgive and forget it. The queen, found no difficulty in renewing the
negotiations for a strict alliance between Scotland and England; and
the more effectually to gain the prince's friendship, she granted him a
pension, equivalent to his claim on the inheritance of his grand mother,
the countess of Lenox, lately deceased.[**] A league was formed between
Elizabeth and James for the mutual defence of their dominions and of
their religion, now menaced by the open combination of all the Catholic
powers of Europe. It was stipulated, that if Elizabeth were invaded,
James should aid her with a body of two thousand horse and five thousand
foot; that Elizabeth, in a like case, should send to his assistance
three thousand horse and six thousand foot; that the charge of these
armies should be defrayed by the prince who demanded assistance; that
if the invasion should be made upon England, within sixty miles of the
frontiers of Scotland, this latter kingdom should march its whole force
to the assistance of the former; and that the present league should
supersede all former alliances of either state with any foreign kingdom,
so far as religion was concerned.[***]

* Melvil.

** Spotswood, p. 351.

*** Spotswood, p. 349. Camden, p. 513. Rymer, tom. xv. p.
803.

By this league, James secured himself against all attempts from abroad,
opened a way for acquiring the confidence and affections of the English,
and might entertain some prospect of domestic tranquillity, which, while
he lived on bad terms with Elizabeth, he could never expect long to
enjoy. Besides the turbulent disposition and inveterate feuds of the
nobility,--ancient maladies of the Scottish government,--the spirit of
fanaticism had introduced a new disorder; so much the more dangerous,
as religion, when corrupted by false opinion, is not restrained by
any rules of morality, and is even scarcely to be accounted for in
its operations by any principles of ordinary conduct and policy. The
insolence of the preachers, who triumphed in their dominion over the
populace, had at this time reached an extreme height; and they carried
their arrogance so far, not only against the king, but against the whole
civil power, that they excommunicated the archbishop of St. Andrews,
because he had been active in parliament for promoting a law which
restrained their seditious sermons; [*] nor could that prelate save
himself by any expedient from this terrible sentence, but by renouncing
all pretensions to ecclesiastical authority. One Gibson said in the
pulpit that Captain James Stuart (meaning the late earl of Arran) and
his wife, Jezebel, had been deemed the chief persecutors of the church;
but it was now seen that the king himself was the great offender; and
for this crime the preacher denounced against him the curse which
fell on Jeroboam, that he should die childless, and be the last of his
race.[**]

The secretary, Thirlstone, perceiving the king so much molested with
ecclesiastical affairs, and with the refractory disposition of the
clergy, advised him to leave them to their own courses; for that in a
short time they would become so intolerable, that the people would rise
against them, and drive them out of the country. "True," replied the
king; "if I purposed to undo the church and religion, your counsel were
good; but my intention is to maintain both; therefore cannot I suffer
the clergy to follow such a conduct, as will in the end bring religion
into contempt and derision."[***]

* Spotswood, p. 346, 346.

* Spotswood, p. 34[**?].

* Spotswood, p. 348.

CHAPTER XLII.

ELIZABETH.

{1586.} The dangers which arose from the character, principles, and
pretensions of the queen of Scots, had very early engaged Elizabeth to
consult, in her treatment of that unfortunate princess, the dictates
of jealousy and politics, rather than of friendship or generosity:
resentment of this usage had pushed Mary into enterprises which had
nearly threatened the repose and authority of Elizabeth: the rigor and
restraint thence redoubled upon the captive queen,[*] still impelled her
to attempt greater extremities; and while her impatience of confinement,
her revenge,[**] [20] and her high spirit concurred with religious zeal,
and the suggestions of desperate bigots, she was at last engaged in
designs which afforded her enemies, who watched the opportunity, a
pretence or reason for effecting her final ruin.

* Digges, p. 139. Haynes, p. 607.

** See note T. at the end of the volume.

The English seminary at Rheims had wrought themselves up to a high pitch
of rage and animosity against the queen. The recent persecutions from
which they had escaped; the new rigors which they knew awaited them in
the course of their missions; the liberty which for the present they
enjoyed of declaiming against that princess; and the contagion of that
religious fury which every where surrounded them in France; all these
causes had obliterated with them every maxim of common sense, and every
principle of morals or humanity. Intoxicated with admiration of the
divine power and infallibility of the pope, they revered his bull by
which he excommunicated and deposed the queen; and some of them had gone
to that height of extravagance as to assert, that that performance
had been immediately dictated by the Holy Ghost. The assassination
of heretical sovereigns, and of that princess in particular, was
represented as the most meritorious of all enterprises; and they taught,
that whoever perished in such pious attempts, enjoyed, without dispute,
the glorious and never-fading crown of martyrdom. By such doctrines,
they instigated John Savage, a man of desperate courage, who had served
some years in the Low Countries under the prince of Parma, to attempt
the life of Elizabeth; and this assassin, having made a vow to persevere
in his design, was sent over to England, and recommended to the
confidence of the more zealous Catholics.

About the same time, John Ballard, a priest of that seminary, had
returned to Paris from his mission in England and Scotland; and as he
had observed a spirit of mutiny and rebellion to be very prevalent
among the Catholic devotees in these countries, he had founded on that
disposition the project of dethroning Elizabeth, and of restoring by
force of arms the exercise of the ancient religion.[*] The situation
of affairs abroad seemed favorable to this enterprise; the pope, the
Spaniard, the duke of Guise, concurring in interests, had formed a
resolution to make some attempt against England: and Mendoza, the
Spanish ambassador at Paris, strongly encouraged Ballard to hope for
succors from these princes. Charles Paget alone, a zealous Catholic and
a devoted partisan of the queen of Scots, being well acquainted with the
prudence, vigor, and general popularity of Elizabeth, always maintained
that, so long as that princess was allowed to live, it was in vain to
expect any success from an enterprise upon England. Ballard, persuaded
of this truth, saw more clearly the necessity of executing the design
formed at Rheims; he came over to England in the disguise of a soldier,
and assumed the name of Captain Fortescue; and he bent his endeavors to
effect at once the project of an assassination, an insurrection, and an
invasion.[**]

* Murden's State Papers, p. 517.

* Camden, p. 515

The first person to whom he addressed himself was Anthony Babington,
of Dethic, in the county of Derby. This young gentleman was of a good
family, possessed a plentiful fortune, had discovered an excellent
capacity, and was accomplished in literature beyond most of his years
or station. Being zealously devoted to the Catholic communion, he had
secretly made a journey to Paris some time before, and had fallen into
intimacy with Thomas Morgan, a bigoted fugitive from England, and with
the bishop of Glasgow, Mary's ambassador at the court of France. By
continually extolling the amiable accomplishments and heroical virtues
of that princess, they impelled the sanguine and unguarded mind of young
Babington to make some attempt for her service; and they employed every
principle of ambition, gallantry, and religious zeal, to give him a
contempt of those dangers which attended any enterprise against the
vigilant government of Elizabeth. Finding him well disposed for their
purpose, they sent him back to England, and secretly, unknown to
himself, recommended him to the queen of Scots, as a person worth
engaging in her service. She wrote him a letter, full of friendship
and confidence; and Babington, ardent in his temper and zealous in his
principles, thought that these advances now bound him in honor to devote
himself entirely to the service of that unfortunate princess. During
some time, he had found means of conveying to her all her foreign
correspondence; but after she was put under the custody of Sir Amias
Paulet, and reduced to a more rigorous confinement, he experienced so
much difficulty and danger in rendering her this service, that he had
desisted from every attempt of that nature.

When Ballard began to open his intentions to Babington, he found his
zeal suspended, not extinguished: his former ardor revived on the
mention of any enterprise which seemed to promise success in the cause
of Mary and of the Catholic religion. He had entertained sentiments
conformable to those of Paget, and represented the folly of all attempts
which, during the lifetime of Elizabeth, could be formed against the
established religion and government of England. Ballard, encouraged
by this hint, proceeded to discover to him the design undertaken by
Savage;[*] and was well pleased to observe that, instead of being
shocked with the project, Babington only thought it not secure enough,
when intrusted to one single hand, and proposed to join five others with
Savage in this desperate enterprise.

* Camden, p. 515. State Trials, p. 114.

In prosecution of these views, Babington employed himself in increasing
the number of his associates; and he secretly drew into the conspiracy
many Catholic gentlemen, discontented with the present government.
Barnwell, of a noble family in Ireland, Charnoc, a gentleman of
Lancashire, and Abington, whose father had been cofferer to the
household readily undertook the assassination of the queen. Charles
Tilney, the heir of an ancient family, and Titchborne of Southampton,
when the design was proposed to them, expressed some scruples, which
were removed by the arguments of Babington and Ballard. Savage alone
refused, during some time, to share the glory of the enterprise with
any others;[*] he challenged the whole to himself; and it was with some
difficulty he was induced to depart from this preposterous ambition.

* State Trials, vol. i. p. 111.

The deliverance of the queen of Scots, at the very same instant when
Elizabeth should be assassinated, was requisite for effecting the
purpose of the conspirators; and Babington undertook, with a party of a
hundred horse, to attack her guards while she should be taking the air
on horseback. In this enterprise, he engaged Edward Windsor, brother to
the lord of that name, Thomas Salisbury, Robert Gage, John Travers, John
Jones, and Henry Donne; most of them men of family and interest. The
conspirators much wanted, but could not find, any nobleman of note whom
they might place at the head of the enterprise; but they trusted that
the great events, of the queen's death and Mary's deliverance, would
rouse all the zealous Catholics to arms; and that foreign forces, taking
advantage of the general confusion, would easily fix the queen of Scots
on the throne, and reestablish the ancient religion.

These desperate projects had not escaped the vigilance of Elizabeth's
council, particularly of Walsingham, secretary of state. That artful
minister had engaged Maud, a Catholic priest, whom he retained in pay,
to attend Ballard in his journey to France, and had thereby got a hint
of the designs entertained by the fugitives. Polly, another of his
spies, had found means to insinuate himself among the conspirators in
England; and, though not entirely trusted, had obtained some insight
into their dangerous secrets. But the bottom of the conspiracy was
never fully known, till Gifford, a seminary priest, came over and made a
tender of his services to Walsingham. By his means, the discovery became
of the utmost importance, and involved the fate of Mary, as well as of
those zealous partisans of that princess.

Babington and his associates, having laid such a plan as, they thought,
promised infallible success, were impatient to communicate the design to
the queen of Scots, and to obtain her approbation and concurrence.
For this service they employed Gifford, who immediately applied to
Walsingham, that the interest of that minister might forward his secret
correspondence with Mary. Walsingham proposed the matter to Paulet, and
desired him to connive at Gifford's corrupting one of his servants; but
Paulet, averse to the introducing of such a pernicious precedent
into his family, desired that they would rather think of some other
expedient. Gifford found a brewer, who supplied the family with ale;
and bribed him to convey letters to the captive queen. The letters,
by Paulet's connivance, were thrust through a chink in the wall; and
answers were returned by the same conveyance.

Ballard and Babington were at first diffident of Gifford's fidelity;
and to make trial of him, they gave him only blank papers made up like
letters; but finding by the answers that these had been faithfully
delivered, they laid aside all further scruple, and conveyed by his
hands the most criminal and dangerous parts of their conspiracy.
Babington informed Mary of the design laid for a foreign invasion, the
plan of an insurrection at home, the scheme for her deliverance, and the
conspiracy for assassinating the usurper, by six noble gentlemen, as he
termed them, all of them his private friends; who, from the zeal
which they bore to the Catholic cause and her majesty's service, would
undertake the "tragical execution." Mary replied, that she approved
highly of the design; that the gentlemen might expect all the rewards
which it should ever be in her power to confer; and that the death of
Elizabeth was a necessary circumstance, before any attempts were made,
either for her own deliverance or an insurrection.[*]

* State Trials, vol. i. p 135. Camden, p. 515.

These letters, with others to Mendoza, Charles Paget, the archbishop
of Glasgow, and Sir Francis Inglefield, were carried by Gifford to
Secretary Walsingham; were deciphered by the art of Philips, his clerk;
and copies taken of them. Walsingham employed another artifice, in order
to obtain full insight into the plot: he subjoined to a letter of Mary's
a postscript in the same cipher; in which he made her desire Babington
to inform her of the names of the conspirators. The indiscretion of
Babington furnished Walsingham with still another means of detection,
as well as of defence. That gentlemen had caused a picture to be drawn,
where he himself was represented standing amidst the six assassins; and
a motto was subjoined, expressing that their common perils were the band
of their confederacy. A copy of this picture was brought to Elizabeth,
that she might know the assassins, and guard herself against their
approach to her person.

Meanwhile Babington, anxious to insure and hasten the foreign succors,
resolved to despatch Ballard into France; and he procured for him, under
a feigned name, a license to travel. In order to remove from himself
all suspicion, he applied to Walsingharn, pretended great zeal for the
queen's service, offered to go abroad, and professed his intentions of
employing the confidence which he had gained among the Catholics, to the
detection and disappointment of their conspiracies. Walsingham commended
his loyal purposes; and promising his own counsel and assistance in
the execution of them, still fed him with hopes, and maintained a close
correspondence with him. A warrant, meanwhile, was issued for seizing
Ballard; and this incident, joined to the consciousness of guilt, begat
in all the conspirators the utmost anxiety and concern. Some advised
that they should immediately make their escape; others proposed that
Savage and Charnoc should without delay execute their purpose against
Elizabeth; and Babington, in prosecution of this scheme, furnished
Savage with money, that he might buy good clothes, and thereby have more
easy access to the queen's person. Next day, they began to apprehend
that they had taken the alarm too hastily; and Babington, having
renewed his correspondence with Walsingham, was persuaded by that subtle
minister, that the seizure of Ballard had proceeded entirely from the
usual diligence of informers in the detection of popish and seminary
priests. He even consented to take lodgings secretly in Walsingham's
house, that they might have more frequent conferences together before
his intended departure for France; but observing that he was watched
and guarded, he made his escape, and gave the alarm to the other
conspirators. They all took to flight, covered themselves with several
disguises, and lay concealed in woods or barns; but were soon discovered
and thrown into prison. In their examinations they contradicted each
other, and the leaders were obliged to make a full confession of the
truth. Fourteen were condemned and executed, of whom seven, acknowledged
the crime on their trial; the rest were convicted by evidence.

The lesser conspirators being despatched, measures were taken for the
trial and conviction of the queen of Scots; on whose account, and with
whose concurrence, these attempts had been made against the life of
the queen, and the tranquillity of the kingdom. Some of Elizabeth's
counsellors were averse to this procedure, and thought that the close
confinement of a woman who was become very sickly, and who would
probably put a speedy period to their anxiety by her natural death,
might give sufficient security to the government without attempting
a measure of which there scarcely remains any example in history.
Leicester advised that Mary should be secretly despatched by poison;
and he sent a divine to convince Walsingham of the lawfulness of
that action: but Walsingham declared his abhorrence of it; and still
insisted, in conjunction with the majority of the counsellors, for the
open trial of the queen of Scots. The situation of England, and of the
English ministers, had, indeed, been hitherto not a little dangerous. No
successor of the crown was declared; but the heir of blood, to whom the
people in general were likely to adhere, was, by education, an enemy to
the national religion; was, from multiplied provocations, an enemy to
the ministers and principal nobility; and their personal safety, as well
as the safety of the public, seemed to depend alone on the queen's
life, who was now somewhat advanced in years. No wonder, therefore, that
Elizabeth's counsellors, knowing themselves to be so obnoxious to the
queen of Scots, endeavored to push every measure to extremities against
her; and were even more anxious than the queen herself, to prevent her
from ever mounting the throne of England.

Though all England was acquainted with the detection of Babington's
conspiracy, every avenue to the queen of Scots had been so strictly
guarded, that she remained in utter ignorance of the matter; and it was
a great surprise to her, when Sir Thomas Gorges, by Elizabeth's orders,
informed her, that all her accomplices were discovered and arrested. He
chose the time for giving her this intelligence when she was mounted on
horseback to go a hunting; and she was not permitted to return to her
former place of abode, but war conducted from one gentleman's house to
another, till she was lodged in Fotheringay Castle, in the County of
Northampton, which it was determined to make the last stage of her trial
and sufferings. Her two secretaries, Nau, a Frenchman, and Curle, a
Scot, were immediately arrested: all her papers were seized, and sent up
to the council: above sixty different keys to ciphers were discovered:
there were also found many letters from persons beyond sea, and
several too from English noblemen containing expressions of respect and
attachment. The queen took no notice of this latter discovery; but the
persons themselves, knowing their correspondence to be detected, though
that they had no other means of making atonement for their imprudence,
than by declaring themselves thenceforth the most inveterate enemies of
the queen of Scots.[*]

* Camden, p. 518.

It was resolved to try Mary, not by the common statute of treasons, but
by the act which had passed the former year with a view to this very
event; and the queen, in terms of that act, appointed a commission,
consisting of forty noblemen and privy counsellors, and empowered them
to examine and pass sentence on Mary, whom she denominated the late
queen of Scots, and heir to James V. of Scotland. The commissioners came
to Fotheringay Castle, and sent to her Sir Walter Mildmay, Sir Amias
Paulet, and Edward Barker, who delivered her a letter from Elizabeth,
informing her of the commission, and of the approaching trial. Mary
received the intelligence without emotion or astonishment. She said,
however, that it seemed strange to her, that the queen should command
her, as a subject, to submit to a trial and examination before subjects;
that she was an absolute, independent princess, and would yield to
nothing which might derogate either from her royal majesty, from the
state of sovereign princes, or from the dignity and rank of her son:
that, however oppressed by misfortunes, she was not yet so much broken
in spirit as her enemies flattered themselves; nor would she, on any
account, be accessary to her own degradation and dishonor: that she was
ignorant of the laws and statutes of England; was utterly destitute
of counsel; and could not conceive who were entitled to be called her
peers, or could legally sit as judges on her trial: that though she had
lived in England for many years, she had lived in captivity; and not
having received the protection of the laws, she could not, merely by
her involuntary residence in the country, be supposed to have subjected
herself to their jurisdiction: that, notwithstanding the superiority of
her rank, she was willing to give an account of her conduct before an
English parliament; but could not view these commissioners in any
other light than as men appointed to justify, by some color of legal
proceeding, her condemnation and execution: and that she warned them
to look to their conscience and their character in trying an innocent
person; and to reflect, that these transactions would somewhere be
subject to revisal, and that the theatre of the whole world was much
wider than the kingdom of England.

In return, the commissioners sent a new deputation, informing her, that
her plea, either from her royal dignity or from her imprisonment, could
not be admitted; and that they were empowered to proceed to her trial,
even though she should refuse to answer before them. Burleigh, the
treasurer, and Bromley, the chancellor, employed much reasoning to make
her submit; but the person whose arguments had the chief influence,
was Sir Christopher Hatton, vice-chamberlain. His speech was to this
purpose: "You are accused, madam," said he, "but not condemned, of
having conspired the destruction of our lady and queen anointed. You say
you are a queen; but, in such a crime as this, and such a situation as
yours, the royal dignity itself, neither by the civil or canon law, nor
by the law of nature or of nations, is exempt from judgment. If you be
innocent, you wrong your reputation in avoiding a trial. We have been
present at your protestations of innocence; but Queen Elizabeth thinks
otherwise, and is heartily sorry for the appearances which lie against
you. To examine, therefore, your cause, she has appointed commissioners;
honorable persons, prudent and upright men, who are ready to hear you
with equity, and even with favor, and will rejoice if you can clear
yourself of the imputations which have been thrown upon you. Believe
me, madam, the queen herself will rejoice, who affirmed to me, at my
departure, that nothing which ever befell her had given her so much
uneasiness, as that you should be suspected of a concurrence in these
criminal enterprises. Laying aside, therefore, the fruitless claim of
privilege from your royal dignity, which can now avail you nothing,
trust to the better defence of your innocence, make it appear in open
trial, and leave not upon your memory that stain of infamy which must
attend your obstinate silence on this occasion." [*]

* Camden, p. 523.

By this artful speech, Mary was persuaded to answer before the court;
and thereby gave an appearance of legal procedure to the trial, and
prevented those difficulties which the commissioners must have fallen
into, had she persevered in maintaining so specious a plea as that of
her sovereign and independent character. Her conduct in this particular
must be regarded as the more imprudent; because formerly, when
Elizabeth's commissioners pretended not to exercise any jurisdiction
over her, and only entered into her cause by her own consent and
approbation, she declined justifying herself, when her honor, which
ought to have been dearer to her than life, seemed absolutely to require
it.

On her first appearance before the commissioners, Mary, either sensible
of her imprudence, or still unwilling to degrade herself by submitting
to a trial, renewed her protestation against the authority of her
judges: the chancellor answered her, by pleading the supreme authority
of the English laws over every one who resided in England; and the
commissioners accommodated matters, by ordering both her protestation
and his answer to be recorded.

The lawyers of the crown then opened the charge against the queen
of Scots. They proved, by intercepted letters, that she had allowed
Cardinal Allen and others to treat her as queen of England; and that she
had kept a correspondence with Lord Paget and Charles Paget, in view of
engaging the Spaniards to invade the kingdom. Mary seemed not anxious to
clear herself from either of these imputations. She only said that she
could not hinder others from using what style they pleased in writing to
her; and that she might lawfully try every expedient for the recovery of
her liberty.

An intercepted letter of hers to Mendoza was next produced; in which she
promised to transfer to Philip her right to the kingdom of England, if
her son should refuse to be converted to the Catholic faith; an event,
she there said, of which there was no expectation while he remained in
the hands of his Scottish subjects.[*]

* State Trials, vol. i. p 138.

Even this part of the charge she took no pains to deny, or rather she
seemed to acknowledge it. She said that she had no kingdoms to dispose
of; yet was it lawful for her to give at her pleasure what was her own,
and she was not accountable to any for her actions. She added, that she
had formerly rejected that proposal from Spain; but now, since all
her hopes in England were gone, she was fully determined not to refuse
foreign assistance. There was also produced evidence to prove, that
Allen and Parsons were at that very time negotiating, by her orders, at
Rome, the conditions of transferring her English crown to the king of
Spain, and of disinheriting her heretical son.[*] [21]

It is remarkable, that Mary's prejudices against her son were at this
time carried so far, that she had even entered into a conspiracy against
him, had appointed Lord Claud Hamilton regent of Scotland, and had
instigated her adherents to seize James's person, and deliver him into
the hands of the pope, or the king of Spain; whence he was never to be
delivered, but on condition of his becoming Catholic.[**] [24]

The only part of the charge which Mary positively denied, was her
concurrence in the design of assassinating Elizabeth. This article,
indeed, was the most heavy, and the only one that could fully justify
the queen in proceeding to extremities against her. In order to prove
the accusation, there were produced the following evidence: copies taken
in Secretary Walsingham's office of the intercepted letters between
her and Babington, in which her approbation of the murder was clearly
expressed; the evidence of her two secretaries, Nau and Curle, who had
confessed, without being put to any torture, both that she received
these letters from Babington, and that they had written the answers by
her order; the confession of Babington, that he had written the letters
and received the answers,[***] and the confession of Ballard and Savage,
that Babington had showed them these letters of Mary, written in the
cipher which had been settled between them.

* See note U, at the end of the volume.

** See note X, at the end of the volume.

*** State Trials, vol. i. p. 113.

It is evident, that this complication of evidence, though every
circumstance corroborates the general conclusion, resolves itself
finally into the testimony of the two secretaries, who alone were
certainly acquainted with their mistress's concurrence in Babington's
conspiracy, but who knew themselves exposed to all the rigors of
imprisonment, torture, and death, if they refused to give any evidence
which might be required of them. In the case of an ordinary criminal,
this proof, with all its disadvantages, would be esteemed legal, and
even satisfactory, if not opposed by some other circumstances which
shake the credit of the witnesses: but on the present trial, where
the absolute power of the prosecutor concurred with such important
interests, and such a violent inclination to have the princess
condemned, the testimony of two witnesses, even though men of character,
ought to be supported by strong probabilities, in order to remove all
suspicion of tyranny and injustice. The proof against Mary, it must be
confessed, is not destitute of this advantage; and it is difficult, if
not impossible, to account for Babington's receiving an answer written
in her name, and in the cipher concerted between them, without allowing
that the matter had been communicated to that princess. Such is the
light in which this matter appears, even after time has discovered
every thing which could guide our judgment with regard to it: no
wonder, therefore, that the queen of Scots, unassisted by counsel,
and confounded by so extraordinary a trial, found herself incapable
of making a satisfactory defence before the commissioners. Her reply
consisted chiefly in her own denial: whatever force may be in that
denial was much weakened by her positively affirming, that she never had
had any correspondence of any kind with Babington; a fact, however, of
which there remains not the least question.[*] [25] She asserted, that
as Nau and Curle had taken an oath of secrecy and fidelity to her, their
evidence against her ought not to be credited. She confessed, however,
that Nau had been in the service of her uncle, the cardinal of Lorraine,
and had been recommended to her by the king of France, as a man in
whom she might safely confide. She also acknowledged Curle to be a very
honest man, but simple and easily imposed on by Nau. If these two
men had received any letters, or had written any answers, without her
knowledge, the imputation, she said, could never lie on her. And she was
the more inclined, she added, to entertain this suspicion against them,
because Nau had, in other instances, been guilty of a like temerity, and
had ventured to transact business in her name, without communicating the
matter to her.[**] [26]

* See note Y, at the end of the volume.

** See note Z, at the end cf the volume.

The sole circumstance of her defence which to us may appear to have some
force, was her requiring that Nau and Cure should be confronted with
her, and her affirming that they never would to her face persist
in their evidence. But that demand, however equitable, was not then
supported by law in trials of high treason, and was often refused, even
in other trials where the crown was prosecutor. The clause contained in
an act of the thirteenth of the queen, was a novelty; that the species
of treason there enumerated must be proved by two witnesses, confronted
with the criminal. But Mary was not tried upon that act; and the
ministers and crown lawyers of this reign were always sure to refuse
every indulgence beyond what the strict letter of the law, and the
settled practice of the courts of justice, required of them. Not to
mention, that these secretaries were not probably at Fotheringay Castle
during the time of the trial, and could not, upon Mary's demand, be
produced before the commissioners.[*]

* Queen Elizabeth was willing to have allowed Curle and Nau
to be produced in the trial, and writes to that purpose to
Burleigh and Walsingham, in her letter of the seventh of
October, in Forbes's MS collections. She only says, that she
thinks it needless, though she was willing to agree to it.
The not confronting of the witnesses was not the result of
design, but the practice of the age.

There passed two incidents in this trial which may be worth observing. A
letter between Mary and Babington was read, in which mention was made of
the earl of Arundel and his brothers: on hearing their names, she broke
into a sigh. "Alas," said she, "what has the noble house of the Howards
suffered for my sake!" She affirmed, with regard to the same letter,
that it was easy to forge the handwriting and cipher of another; she was
afraid that this was too familiar a practice with Walsingham, who,
she also heard, had frequently practised both against her life and
her son's. Walsingham, who was one of the commissioners, rose up. He
protested that, in his private capacity, he had never acted any thing
against the queen of Scots: in his public capacity, he owned, that
his concern for his sovereign's safety had made him very diligent in
searching out, by every expedient, all designs against her sacred person
or her authority. For attaining that end, he would not only make use of
the assistance of Ballard or any other conspirator; he would also reward
them for betraying their companions. But if he had tampered in any
manner unbefitting his character and office, why did none of the
late criminals, either at their trial or execution accuse him of such
practices? Mary endeavored to pacify him, by saying that she spoke from
information; and she begged him to give thenceforth no more credit to
such as slandered her, than she should to such as accused him. The great
character, indeed, which Sir Francis Walsingham bears for probity and
honor, should remove from him all suspicion of such base arts as forgery
and subornation; arts which even the most corrupt ministers, in the most
corrupt times, would scruple to employ.

Having finished the trial, the commissioners, adjourned from Fotheringay
Castle, and met in the star chamber at London, where, after taking
the oaths of Mary's two secretaries, who voluntarily, without hope or
reward, vouched the authenticity of those letters before produced, they
pronounced sentence of death upon the queen of Scots, and confirmed
it by their seals and subscriptions. The same day, a declaration was
published by the commissioners and the judges "that the sentence did
nowise derogate from the title and honor of James, king of Scotland; but
that he was in the same place, degree, and right, as if the sentence had
never been pronounced."[*]

* Camden, p. 526.

The queen had now brought affairs with Mary to that situation which
she had long ardently desired; and had found a plausible reason for
executing vengeance on a competitor, whom, from the beginning of her
reign, she had ever equally dreaded and hated. But she was restrained
from instantly gratifying her resentment, by several important
considerations. She foresaw the invidious colors in which this example
of uncommon jurisdiction would be represented by the numerous partisans
of Mary, and the reproach to which she herself might be exposed with all
foreign princes, perhaps with all posterity. The rights of hospitality,
of kindred, and of royal majesty, seemed in one signal instance to be
all violated; and this sacrifice of generosity to interest, of clemency
to revenge, might appear equally unbecoming a sovereign and a woman.
Elizabeth, therefore, who was an excellent hypocrite, pretended the
utmost reluctance to proceed to the execution of the sentence; affected
the most tender sympathy with her prisoner; displayed all her scruples
and difficulties; rejected the solicitation of her courtiers and
ministers; and affirmed that, were she not moved by the deepest concern
for her people's safety, she would not hesitate a moment in pardoning
all the injuries which she herself had received from the queen of Scots.

That the voice of her people might be more audibly heard in the demand
of justice upon Mary, she summoned a new parliament; and she knew, both
from the usual dispositions of that assembly, and from the influence
of her ministers over them, that she should not want the most earnest
solicitation to consent to that measure which was so agreeable to her
secret inclinations. She did not open this assembly in person, but
appointed for that purpose three commissioners, Bromley, the chancellor,
Burleigh, the treasurer, and the earl of Derby. The reason assigned
for this measure was, that the queen, foreseeing that the affair of the
queen of Scots would be canvassed in parliament, found her tenderness
and delicacy so much hurt by that melancholy incident, that she had not
the courage to be present while it was under deliberation, but withdrew
her eyes from what she could not behold without the utmost reluctance
and uneasiness. She was also willing, that, by this unusual precaution,
the people should see the danger to which her person was hourly exposed;
and should thence be more strongly incited to take vengeance on the
criminal, whose restless intrigues and bloody conspiracies had so long
exposed her to the most imminent perils.[*]

The parliament answered the queen's expectations: the sentence against
Mary was unanimously ratified by both houses, and an application
was voted to obtain Elizabeth's consent to its publication and
execution.[**] She gave an answer ambiguous, embarrassed; full of real
artifice, and seeming irresolution. She mentioned the extreme danger to
which her life was continually exposed; she declared her willingness to
die, did she not foresee the great calamities which would thence fall
upon the nation; she made professions of the greatest tenderness to
her people; she displayed the clemency of her temper, and expressed
her violent reluctance to execute the sentence against her unhappy
kinswoman; she affirmed, that the late law, by which that princess was
tried, so far from being made to insnare her, was only intended to give
her warning beforehand, not to engage in such attempts as might expose
her to the penalties with which she was thus openly menaced; and she
begged them to think once again, whether it were possible to find any
expedient, besides the death of the queen of Scots, for securing the
public tranquility.[***]

* D'Ewes, p. 375.

** D'Ewes, p. 379.

*** D'Ewes, p. 402, 403.

The parliament, in obedience to her commands, took the affair again
under consideration; but could find no other possible expedient. They
reiterated their solicitations, and entreaties, and arguments: they even
remonstrated, that mercy to the queen of Scots was cruelty to them, her
subjects and children: and they affirmed, that it were injustice to deny
execution of the law to any individual; much more to the whole body of
the people, now unanimously and earnestly suing for this pledge of her
parental care and tenderness. This second address set the pretended
doubts and scruples of Elizabeth anew in agitation; she complained
of her now unfortunate situation; expressed her uneasiness from their
importunity; renewed the professions of affection to her people; and
dismissed the committee of parliament in an uncertainty what, after all
this deliberation, might be her final resolution.[*] [27]

But though the queen affected reluctance to execute the sentence against
Mary, she complied with the request of parliament in publishing it by
proclamation; and this act seemed to be attended with the unanimous and
hearty rejoicings of the people. Lord Buckhurst, and Beale, clerk of
the council, were sent to the queen of Scots, and notified to her the
sentence pronounced against her, its ratification by parliament, and
the earnest applications made for its execution by that assembly, who
thought that their religion could never, while she was alive, attain
a full settlement and security. Mary was nowise dismayed at this
intelligence: on the contrary, she joyfully laid hold of the last
circumstance mentioned to her; and insisted, that since her death was
demanded by the Protestants for the establishment of their faith, she
was really a martyr to her religion, and was entitled to all the merits
attending that glorious character. She added, that the English had often
imbrued their hands in the blood of their sovereigns: no wonder they
exercised cruelty against her, who derived her descent from these
monarchs.[**] Paulet, her keeper, received orders to take down her
canopy, and to serve her no longer with the respect due to sovereign
princes. He told her, that she was now to be considered as a dead
person, and incapable of any dignity.[***] This harsh treatment produced
not in her any seeming emotion. She only replied, that she received her
royal character from the hands of the Almighty, and no earthly power was
ever able to bereave her of it.

* See note AA, at the end of the volume.

** Camden, p. 528.

*** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 293.

The queen of Scots wrote her last letter to Elizabeth; full of dignity,
without departing from that spirit of meekness and of charity which
appeared suitable to this concluding scene of her unfortunate life. She
preferred no petition for averting the fatal sentence: on the contrary
she expressed her gratitude to Heaven for thus bringing to a speedy
period her sad and lamentable pilgrimage. She requested some favors of
Elizabeth; and entreated her that she might be beholden for them to her
own goodness alone, without making applications to those ministers who
had discovered such an extreme malignity against her person and her
religion. She desired, that after her enemies should be satiated with
her innocent blood, her body, which it was determined should never
enjoy rest while her soul was united to it, might be consigned to her
servants, and be conveyed by them into France, there to repose in a
Catholic land, with the sacred relics of her mother. In Scotland, she
said, the sepulchres of her ancestors were violated, and the churches
either demolished or profaned; and in England, where she might be
interred among the ancient kings, her own and Elizabeth's progenitors,
she could entertain no hopes of being accompanied to the grave with
those rites and ceremonies which her religion required. She requested,
that no one might have the power of inflicting a private death upon her,
without Elizabeth's knowledge; but that her execution should be public,
and attended by her ancient servants, who might bear testimony of her
perseverance in the faith, and of her submission to the will of Heaven.
She begged that these servants might afterwards be allowed to depart
whithersoever they pleased, and might enjoy those legacies which she
should bequeath them. And she conjured her to grant these favors by
their near kindred; by the soul and memory of Henry VII., the common
ancestor of both; and by the royal dignity of which they equally
participated.[*] Elizabeth made no answer to this letter; being
unwilling to give Mary a refusal in her present situation, and
foreseeing inconveniencies from granting some of her requests.

* Camden p. 529. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 295.

While the queen of Scots thus prepared herself to meet her fate, great
efforts were made by foreign powers with Elizabeth to prevent the
execution of the sentence pronounced against her. Besides employing
L'Aubespine, the French resident at London, a creature of the house
of Guise, Henry sent over Bellièvre, with a professed intention of
interceding for the life of Mary. The duke of Guise and the league at
that time threatened very nearly the king's authority; and Elizabeth
knew, that though that monarch might, from decency and policy, think
himself obliged to interpose publicly in behalf of the queen of Scots,
he could not secretly be much displeased with the death of a princess,
on whose fortune and elevation his mortal enemies had always founded
so many daring and ambitious projects.[*] It is even pretended, that
Bellievre had orders, after making public and vehement remonstrances
against the execution of Mary, to exhort privately the queen, in his
master's name, not to defer an act of justice so necessary for their
common safety.[**] But whether the French king's intercession were
sincere or not, it had no weight with the queen; and she still persisted
in her former resolution.

* Camden, p. 494.

** Du Maurier.

The interposition of the young king of Scots, though not able to change
Elizabeth's determination, seemed on every account to merit more regard.
As soon as James heard of the trial and condemnation of his mother, he
sent Sir William Keith, a gentleman of his bed-chamber, to London; and
wrote a letter to the queen, in which he remonstrated in very severe
terms against the indignity of the procedure. He said, that he
was astonished to hear of the presumption of English noblemen and
counsellors, who had dared to sit in judgment and pass sentence upon a
queen of Scotland, descended from the blood royal of England; but he was
still more astonished to hear, that thoughts were seriously entertained
of putting that sentence in execution: that he entreated Elizabeth to
reflect on the dishonor which she would draw on her name by imbruing
her hands in the blood of her near kinswoman, a person of the same royal
dignity and of the same sex with herself: that, in this unparalleled
attempt, she offered an affront to all diadems, and even to her own; and
by reducing sovereigns to a level with other men, taught the people to
neglect all duty towards those whom Providence had appointed to rule
over them: that for his part, he must deem the injury and insult so
enormous, as to be incapable of all atonement; nor was it possible for
him thenceforward to remain in any terms of correspondence with a person
who, without any pretence of legal authority, had deliberately inflicted
an ignominious death upon his parent: and that, even if the sentiments
of nature and duty did not inspire him with this purpose of vengeance,
his honor required it of him; nor could he ever acquit himself in the
eyes of the world, if he did not use every effort, and endure every
hazard, to revenge so great an indignity.[*]

Soon after, James sent the master of Gray and Sir Robert Melvil to
enforce the remonstrances of Keith, and to employ with the queen every
expedient of argument and menaces. Elizabeth was at first offended with
the sharpness of these applications; and she replied in a like strain
to the Scottish ambassadors. When she afterwards reflected, that this
earnestness was no more than what duty required of James, she was
pacified; but still retained her resolution of executing the sentence
against Mary.[**] It is believed, that the master of Gray, gained by the
enemies of that princess, secretly gave his advice not to spare her, and
undertook, in all events, to pacify his master.

* Spotswood, p. 351.

** Spotswood, p. 353.

The queen also, from many considerations, was induced to pay small
attention to the applications of James, and to disregard all the efforts
which he could employ in behalf of his mother. She was well acquainted
with his character and interests, the factions which prevailed among
his people, and the inveterate hatred which the zealous Protestants,
particularly the preachers, bore to the queen of Scots. The present
incidents set these dispositions of the clergy in a full light. James,
observing the fixed purpose of Elizabeth, ordered prayers to be offered
up for Mary in all the churches; and knowing the captious humor of the
ecclesiastics, he took care that the form of the petition should be most
cautious, as well as humane and charitable: "That it might please God
to illuminate Mary with the light of his truth, and save her from the
apparent danger with which she was threatened." But, excepting the
king's own chaplains, and one clergyman more, all the preachers refused
to pollute their churches by prayers for a Papist, and would not so much
as prefer a petition for her conversion. James, unwilling or unable
to punish this disobedience, and desirous of giving the preachers an
opportunity of amending their fault, appointed a new day when prayers
should be said for his mother; and that he might at least secure himself
from any insult in his own presence, he desired the archbishop of St.
Andrews to officiate before him.

In order to disappoint this purpose, the clergy instigated one Couper,
a young man who had not yet received holy orders, to take possession of
the pulpit early in the morning, and to exclude the prelate. When the
king came to church, and saw the pulpit occupied by Couper, he called
to him from his seat, and told him, that the place was destined for
another; yet since he was there, if he would obey the charge given, and
remember the queen in his prayers, he might proceed to divine service.
The preacher replied, that he would do as the Spirit of God should
direct him. This answer sufficiently instructed James in his purpose;
and he commanded him to leave the pulpit. As Couper seemed not disposed
to obey, the captain of the guard went to pull him from his place;
upon which the young man cried aloud, that this day would be a witness
against the king in the great day of the Lord; and he denounced a woe
upon the inhabitants of Edinburgh for permitting him to be treated in
that manner.[*] The audience at first appeared desirous to take part
with him; but the sermon of the prelate brought them over to a more
dutiful and more humane disposition.

* Spotswood, p. 354.

Elizabeth, when solicited, either by James or by foreign princes, to
pardon the queen of Scots, seemed always determined to execute the
sentence against her: but when her ministers urged her to interpose
no more delays, her scruples and her hesitation returned; her humanity
could not allow her to embrace such violent and sanguinary measures; and
she was touched with compassion for the misfortunes, and with respect
for the dignity, of the unhappy prisoner. The courtiers, sensible that
they could do nothing more acceptable to her than to employ persuasion
on this head, failed not to enforce every motive for the punishment
of Mary, and to combat all the objections urged against this act of
justice. They said, that the treatment of that princess in England had
been, on her first reception, such as sound reason and policy required;
and if she had been governed by principles of equity, she would not have
refused willingly to acquiesce in it: that the obvious inconveniencies,
either of allowing her to retire into France, or of restoring her by
force to her throne, in opposition to the reformers and the English
party in Scotland, had obliged the queen to detain her in England, till
time should offer some opportunity of serving her, without danger to
the kingdom, or to the Protestant religion that her usage there had been
such as became her rank; her own servants, in considerable numbers, had
been permitted to attend her, exercise had been allowed her for health,
and all access of company for amusement; and these indulgences would,
in time, have been carried further, if by her subsequent conduct she had
appeared worthy of them: that after she had instigated the rebellion of
Northumberland, the conspiracy of Norfolk, the bull of excommunication
of Pope Pius, an invasion from Flanders; after she had seduced the
queen's friends, and incited every enemy, foreign and domestic, against
her; it became necessary to treat her as a most dangerous rival, and
to render her confinement more strict and rigorous: that the queen,
notwithstanding these repeated provocations, had, in her favor, rejected
the importunity of her parliaments, and the advice of her sagest
ministers;[*] and was still, in hopes of her amendment, determined to
delay coming to the last extremities against her: that Mary, even in
this forlorn condition, retained so high and unconquerable a spirit,
that she acted as competitor to the crown, and allowed her partisans
every where, and in their very letters addressed to herself, to treat
her as queen of England: that she had carried her animosity so far as to
encourage, in repeated instances, the atrocious design of assassinating
the queen; and this crime was unquestionably proved upon her by her own
letters, by the evidence of her secretaries, and by the dying confession
of her accomplices; that she was but a titular queen, and at present
possessed nowhere any right of sovereignty; much less in England, where,
the moment she set foot in the kingdom, she voluntarily became subject
to the laws, and to Elizabeth, the only true sovereign; that even
allowing her to be still the queen's equal in rank and dignity,
self-defence was permitted by a law of nature which could never
be abrogated: and every one, still more a queen, had sufficient
jurisdiction over an enemy, who, by open violence, and still more, who,
by secret treachery, threatened the utmost danger against her life; that
the general combination of the Catholics to exterminate the Protestants
was no longer a secret; and as the sole resource of the latter
persecuted sect lay in Elizabeth, so the chief hope which the former
entertained of final success consisted in the person and in the title
of the queen of Scots; that this very circumstance brought matters to
extremity between these princesses; and rendering the life of one the
death of the other, pointed out to Elizabeth the path which either
regard to self-preservation, or to the happiness of her people, should
direct her to pursue: and that necessity, more powerful than policy,
thus demanded of the queen that resolution which equity would authorize,
and which duty prescribed.[**]

* Digges, p. 276. Strype, vol. ii. p. 48, 135, 136, 139.

** Camden, p. 533.

{1587.} When Elizabeth thought that as many importunities had been
used, and as much delay interposed, as decency required, she at last
determined to carry the sentence into execution: but even in this final
resolution she could not proceed without displaying a new scene of
duplicity and artifice. In order to alarm the vulgar, rumors were
previously dispersed, that the Spanish fleet was arrived in Milford
Haven; that the Scots had made an irruption into England; that the duke
of Guise was landed in Sussex with a strong army; that the queen of
Scots was escaped from prison, and had raised an army; that the northern
counties had begun an insurrection; that there was a new conspiracy on
foot to assassinate the queen, and set the city of London on fire; nay,
that the queen was actually assassinated.[*] An attempt of this nature
was even imputed to L'Aubespine, the French ambassador; and that
minister was obliged to leave the kingdom. The queen, affecting to be
in terror and perplexity, was observed to sit much alone, pensive and
silent; and sometimes to mutter to herself half sentences, importing the
difficulty and distress to which she was reduced.[**]

* Camden, p. 533.

** Camden, p. 534.

She at last called Davison, a man of parts, but easy to be imposed on,
and who had lately for that very reason been made secretary, and she
ordered him privately to draw a warrant for the execution of the queen
of Scots; which, she afterwards said, she intended to keep by her, in
case any attempt should be made for the deliverance of that princess.
She signed the warrant; and then commanded Davison to carry it to the
chancellor, in order to have the great seal appended to it. Next day
she sent Killigrew to Davison, enjoining him to forbear, some time,
executing her former orders; and when Davison came and told her that
the warrant had already passed the great seal, she seemed to be
somewhat moved, and blamed him for his precipitation. Davison, being in
perplexity, acquainted the council with this whole transaction; and they
endeavored to persuade him to send off Beale with the warrant: if the
queen should be displeased, they promised to justify his conduct, and
to take on themselves the whole blame of this measure.[*] The secretary,
not sufficiently aware of their intention, complied with the advice; and
the warrant was despatched to the earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, and some
others, ordering them to see the sentence executed upon the queen of
Scots.

The two earls came to Fotheringay Castle, and being introduced to Mary,
informed her of their commission, and desired her to prepare for death
next morning at eight o'clock. She seemed nowise terrified, though
somewhat surprised, with the intelligence. She said with a cheerful,
and even a smiling countenance, that she did not think the queen, her
sister, would have consented to her death, or have executed the sentence
against a person not subject to the laws and jurisdiction of England.
"But as such is her will," said she, "death, which puts an end to all my
miseries, shall be to me most welcome; nor can I esteem that soul
worthy the felicities of heaven, which cannot support the body under the
horrors of the last passage to these blissful mansions."[**] She then
requested the two noblemen, that they would permit some of her servants,
and particularly her confessor, to attend her; but they told her, that
compliance with this last demand was contrary to their conscience; [***]
and that Dr. Fletcher, dean of Peterborough, a man of great learning,
should be present to instruct her in the principles of true religion.
Her refusal to have any conference with this divine inflamed the zeal of
the earl of Kent; and he bluntly told her, that her death would be the
life of their religion; as, on the contrary, her life would have been
the death of it. Mention being made of Babington, she constantly denied
his conspiracy to have been at all known to her; and the revenge of her
wrongs she resigned into the hands of the Almighty.

* It appears, by some letters published by Strype, vol. iii.
book ii c., that Elizabeth had not expressly communicated
her intention to any of her ministers, not even to Burleigh:
they were such experienced courtiers, that they knew they
could not gratify her more than by serving her without
waiting till she desired them.

** Camden, p. 534. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 301. MS. in the
Advocates Library, p. 2, from the Cott. Lib. Cal. c. 9.

*** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 302.

When the earls had left her, she ordered supper to be hastened, that
she might have the more leisure after it to finish the few affairs
which remained to her in this world, and to prepare for her passage to
another. It was necessary for her, she said, to take some sustenance,
lest a failure of her bodily strength should depress her spirits on the
morrow, and lest her behavior should thereby betray a weakness unworthy
of herself.[*] She supped sparingly, as her manner usually was; and
her wonted cheerfulness did not even desert her on this occasion. She
comforted her servants under the affliction which overwhelmed them,
and which was too violent for them to conceal it from her. Turning to
Burgoin, her physician, she asked him, whether he did not remark the
great and invincible force of truth. "They pretend," said she, "that I
must die, because I conspired against their queen's life: but the earl
of Kent avowed, that there was no other cause of my death, than
the apprehensions which, if I should live, they entertain for their
religion. My constancy in the faith is my real crime: the rest is only
a color, invented by interested and designing men." Towards the end of
supper, she called in all her servants, and drank to them: they pledged
her, in order, on their knees; and craved her pardon for any past
neglect of their duty: she deigned, in return, to ask their pardon for
her offences towards them; and a plentiful effusion of tears attended
this last solemn farewell, and exchange of mutual forgiveness.[**]

* Jebb, vol. ii. p. 489.

** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 302, 626. Camden, p. 534.

Mary's care of her servants was the sole remaining affair which employed
her concern. She perused her will, in which she had provided for them by
legacies: she ordered the inventory of her goods, clothes, and jewels
to be brought her: and she wrote down the names of those to whom she
bequeathed each particular: to some she distributed money with her own
hands; and she adapted the recompense to their different degrees of rank
and merit. She wrote also letters of recommendation for her servants to
the French king, and to her cousin the duke of Guise, whom she made the
chief executor of her testament. At her wonted time, she went to bed;
slept some hours; and, then rising, spent the rest of the night in
prayer. Having foreseen the difficulty of exercising the rites of her
religion, she had had the precaution to obtain a consecrated host from
the hands of Pope Pius; and she had reserved the use of it for this
last period of her life. By this expedient she supplied, as much as she
could, the want of a priest and confessor, who was refused her.[*]

* Jebb, vol. ii. p, 489.

Towards the morning, she dressed herself in a rich habit of silk and
velvet, the only one which she had reserved to herself. She told her
maids, that she would willingly have left them this dress, rather than
the plain garb which she wore the day before: but it was necessary for
her to appear at the ensuing solemnity in a decent habit.

Thomas Andrews, sheriff of the county, entered the room, and informed
her that the hour was come, and that he must attend her to the place
of execution. She replied, that she was ready; and bidding adieu to her
servants, she leaned on two of Sir Amias Paulet's guards, because of an
infirmity in her limbs; and she followed the sheriff with a serene
and composed countenance. In passing through a hall adjoining to her
chamber, she was met by the earls of Shrewsbury and Kent, Sir Amias
Paulet, Sir Drue Drury, and many other gentlemen of distinction. Here
she also found Sir Andrew Melvil, her steward, who flung himself on
his knees before her; and wringing his hands, cried aloud, "Ah, madam!
unhappy me! what man was ever before the messenger of such heavy tidings
as I must carry, when I shall return to my native country, and shall
report, that I saw my gracious queen and mistress beheaded in England?"
His tears prevented further speech; and Mary too felt herself moved,
more from sympathy than affliction. "Cease, my good servant," said she,
"cease to lament: thou hast cause rather to rejoice than to mourn:
for now shalt thou see the troubles of Mary Stuart receive their
long-expected period and completion. Know," continued she, "good
servant, that all the world at best is vanity, and subject still to more
sorrow than a whole ocean of tears is able to bewail. But I pray thee
carry this message from me, that I die a true woman to my religion, and
unalterable in my affections to Scotland and to France. Heaven forgive
them that have long desired my end, and have thirsted for my blood as
the hart panteth after the water brooks!" "O God," added she, "thou art
the author of truth, and truth itself; thou knowest the inmost recesses
of my heart: thou knowest that I was ever desirous to preserve an entire
union between Scotland and England, and to obviate the source of all
these fatal discords. But recommend me, Melvil, to my son; and tell him,
that notwithstanding all my distresses, I have done nothing prejudicial
to the state and kingdom of Scotland." After these words, reclining
herself, with weeping eyes, and face bedewed with tears, she kissed him.
"And so," said she, "good Melvil, farewell: once again, farewell,
good Melvil; and grant the assistance of thy prayers to thy queen and
mistress."[*]

* MS. p. 4. Jebb, vol. ii. p. 634. Strype, vol iii. p. 384.

She next turned to the noblemen, who attended her, and made a petition
in behalf of her servants, that they might be well treated, be allowed
to enjoy the presents which she had made them, and be sent safely into
their own country. Having received a favorable answer, she preferred
another request, that they might be permitted to attend her at her
death; "in order," said she, "that their eyes may behold, and their
hearts bear witness, how patiently their queen and mistress can submit
to her execution, and how constantly she perseveres in her attachment to
her religion." The earl of Kent opposed this desire, and told her that
they would be apt, by their speeches and cries, to disturb both herself
and the spectators: he was also apprehensive lest they should practise
some superstition, not meet for him to suffer; such as dipping their
handkerchiefs in her blood: for that was the instance which he made use
of. "My lord," said the queen of Scots, "I will give my word (although
it be but dead) that they shall not incur any blame in any of the
actions which you have named. But alas! poor souls! it would be a great
consolation to them to bid their mistress farewell. And I hope," added
she, "that your mistress, being a maiden queen, would vouchsafe, in
regard of womanhood, that I should have some of my own people about me
at my death. I know that her majesty hath not given you any such strict
command, but that you might grant me a request of far greater courtesy,
even though I were a woman of inferior rank to that which I bear."
Finding that the earl of Kent persisted still in his refusal, her mind,
which had fortified itself against the terrors of death, was affected
by this indignity, for which she was not prepared. "I am cousin to your
queen," cried she, "and descended from the blood royal of Henry VII.,
and a married queen of France, and an anointed queen of Scotland." The
commissioners, perceiving how invidious their obstinacy would appear,
conferred a little together, and agreed that she might carry a few of
her servants along with her. She made choice of four men and two maid
servants for that purpose.

She then passed into another hall, where was erected the scaffold,
covered with black; and she saw, with an undismayed countenance, the
executioners and all the preparations of death. The room was crowded
with spectators; and no one was so steeled against all sentiments of
humanity, as not to be moved, when he reflected on her royal dignity,
considered the surprising train of her misfortunes, beheld her mild but
inflexible constancy, recalled her amiable accomplishments, or surveyed
her beauties, which, though faded by years, and yet more by her
afflictions, still discovered themselves in this fatal moment. Here the
warrant for her execution was read to her; and during this ceremony she
was silent, but showed, in her behavior, an indifference and unconcern,
as if the business had nowise regarded her. Before the executioners
performed their office, the dean of Peterborough stepped forth; and
though the queen frequently told him that he needed not concern himself
about her, that she was settled in the ancient Catholic and Roman
religion, and that she meant to lay down her life in defence of that
faith, he still thought it his duty to persist in his lectures and
exhortations, and to endeavor her conversion. The terms which he
employed were, under color of pious instructions, cruel insults on her
unfortunate situation; and besides their own absurdity, may be regarded
as the most mortifying indignities to which she had ever yet been
exposed. He told her, that the queen of England had on this occasion
shown a tender care of her; and notwithstanding the punishment justly to
be inflicted on her, for her manifold trespasses, was determined to use
every expedient for saving her soul from that destruction with which it
was so nearly threatened: that she was now standing upon the brink of
eternity, and had no other means of escaping endless perdition, than by
repenting her former wickedness, by justifying the sentence pronounced
against her, by acknowledging the queen's favors, and by exerting a true
and lively faith in Christ Jesus: that the Scriptures were the only rule
of doctrine, the merits of Christ the only means of salvation; and if
she trusted in the inventions or devices of men, she must expect in an
instant to fall into utter darkness, into a place where shall be weeping
howling, and gnashing of teeth: that the and of death was upon her, the
axe was laid to the root of the tree, the throne of the great Judge
of heaven was erected, the book of her life was spread wide, and the
particular sentence and judgment was ready to be pronounced upon her:
and that it was now, during this important moment, in her choice, either
to rise to the resurrection of life, and hear that joyful salutation,
"Come, ye blessed of my Father," or to share the resurrection of
condemnation, replete with sorrow and anguish; and to suffer that
dreadful denunciation, "Go, ye cursed, into everlasting fire."[*]

During this discourse, Mary could not sometimes forbear betraying her
impatience, by interrupting the preacher; and the dean, finding that
he had profited nothing by his lecture, at last bade her change her
opinion, repent her of her former wickedness, and settle her faith upon
this ground, that only in Christ Jesus could she hope to be saved. She
answered, again and again, with great earnestness, "Trouble not yourself
any more about the matter; for I was born in this religion, I have lived
in this religion, and in this religion I am resolved to die." Even the
two earls perceived that it was fruitless to harass her any further
with theological disputes; and they ordered the dean to desist from his
unseasonable exhortations, and to pray for her conversion. During the
dean's prayer, she employed herself in private devotion from the office
of the Virgin; and after he had finished, she pronounced aloud some
petitions in English, for the afflicted church, for an end of her own
troubles, for her son, and for Queen Elizabeth; and prayed God, that
that princess might long prosper, and be employed in his service. The
earl of Kent, observing that in her devotions she made frequent use of
the crucifix, could not forbear reproving her for her attachment to that
Popish trumpery, as he termed it; and he exhorted her to have Christ in
her heart, not in her hand.[**] She replied, with presence of mind, that
it was difficult to hold such an object in her hand without feeling her
heart touched with some compunction.[***]

* MS. p 8, 9, 10, 11. Strype vol. iii. p. 385.

** MS. p. 15. Jebb, vol. ii. p 307, 191, 637.

*** Jebb, vol. ii. p. 307, 491, 637.

She now began, with the aid of her two women, to disrobe herself; and
the executioner also lent his hand to assist them. She smiled, and
said that she was not accustomed to undress herself before so large a
company, nor to be served by such valets. Her servants, seeing her in
this condition, ready to lay her head upon the block, burst into tears
and lamentations: she turned about to them; put her finger upon her
lips, as a sign of imposing silence upon them;[*] and having given them
her blessing, desired them to pray for her.

* Jebb, p. 307, 492.

One of her maids, whom she had appointed for that purpose, covered her
eyes with a handkerchief; she laid herself down without any sign of fear
or trepidation, and her head was severed from her body at two strokes
by the executioner. He instantly held it up to the spectators, streaming
with blood, and agitated with the convulsions of death: the dean of
Peterborough alone exclaimed, "So perish all Queen Elizabeth's enemies:"
the earl of Kent alone replied, "Amen:" the attention of all the other
spectators was fixed on the melancholy scene before them; and zeal and
flattery alike gave place to present pity and admiration of the expiring
princess.

Thus perished, in the forty-fifth year of her age, and nineteenth of
her captivity in England, Mary, queen of Scots; a woman of great
accomplishments both of body and mind, natural as well as acquired;
but unfortunate in her life, and during one period very unhappy in her
conduct. The beauties of her person and graces of her air combined to
make her the most amiable of women; and the charms of her address and
conversation aided the impression which her lovely figure made on
the hearts of all beholders. Ambitious and active in her temper, yet
inclined to cheerfulness and society; of a lofty spirit, constant and
even vehement in her purpose, yet polite, and gentle, and affable in her
demeanor; she seemed to partake only so much of the male virtues as
to render her estimable, without relinquishing those soft graces which
compose the proper ornament of her sex. In order to form a just idea
of her character, we must set aside one part of her conduct, while she
abandoned herself to the guidance of a profligate man; and must consider
these faults, whether we admit them to be imprudences or crimes, as the
result of an inexplicable, though not uncommon inconstancy in the human
mind of the frailty of our nature, of the violence of passion, and of
the influence which situations, and sometimes momentary incidents, have
on persons whose principles are not thoroughly confirmed by experience
and reflection. Enraged by the ungrateful conduct of her husband,
seduced by the treacherous counsels of one in whom she reposed
confidence, transported by the violence of her own temper, which never
lay sufficiently under the guidance of discretion; she was betrayed into
actions which may with some difficulty be accounted for, but which admit
of no apology, nor even of alleviation. An enumeration of her qualities
might carry the appearance of a panegyric; an account of her conduct
must, in some parts, wear the aspect of severe satire and invective.

* Jebb, p. 307, 492.

Her numerous misfortunes, the solitude of her long and tedious
captivity, and the persecutions to which she had been exposed on account
of her religion, had wrought her up to a degree of bigotry during her
later years; and such were the prevalent spirit and principles of the
age, that it is the less wonder, if her zeal, her resentment, and
her interest uniting, induced her to give consent to a design which
conspirators, actuated only by the first of these motives, had formed
against the life of Elizabeth.

When the queen was informed of Mary's execution, she affected the utmost
surprise and indignation. Her countenance changed; her speech faltered
and failed her; for a long time, her sorrow was so deep that she could
not express it, but stood fixed, like a statue, in silence and mute
astonishment. After her grief was able to find vent, it burst out in
loud wailings and lamentations; she put herself in deep mourning for
this deplorable event; and she was seen perpetually bathed in tears,
and surrounded only by her maids and women. None of her ministers or
counsellors dared to approach her; or if any had such temerity, she
chased them from her, with the most violent expressions of rage and
resentment; they had all of them been guilty of an unpardonable crime,
in putting to death her dear sister and kinswoman, contrary to her fixed
purpose,[*] of which they were sufficiently apprised and acquainted.

* Camden, p. 586. Strype, vol. iii. Append. p. 146. Jebb.
vol. ii p. 608

No sooner was her sorrow so much abated as to leave room for reflection,
than she wrote a letter of apology to the king of Scots, and sent it
by Sir Robert Cary, son of Lord Hunsdon. She there told him, that she
wished he knew but not felt, the unutterable grief which she experienced
on account of that lamentable accident which, without her knowledge,
much less concurrence, had happened in England: that as her pen trembled
when she attempted to write it, she found herself obliged to commit the
relation of it to the messenger her kinsman; who would likewise inform
his majesty of every circumstance attending this dismal and unlooked-for
misfortune: that she appealed to the supreme Judge of heaven and earth
for her innocence; and was also so happy amidst her other afflictions,
as to find, that many persons in her court could bear witness to her
veracity in this protestation: that she abhorred dissimulation; deemed
nothing more worthy of a prince than a sincere and open conduct; and
could never surely be esteemed so base and poor-spirited as that, if
she had really given orders for this fatal execution, she could on any
consideration be induced to deny them: that, though sensible of the
justice of the sentence pronounced against the unhappy prisoner, she
determined from clemency never to carry it into execution; and could not
but resent the temerity of those who on this occasion had disappointed
her intention: and that as no one loved him more dearly than herself,
or bore a more anxious concern for his welfare, she hoped that he
would consider every one as his enemy who endeavored, on account of the
present incident, to excite any animosity between them.[*]

In order the better to appease James, she committed Davison to prison,
and ordered him to be tried in the star chamber for his misdemeanor. The
secretary was confounded; and being sensible of the danger which
must attend his entering into a contest with the queen, he expressed
penitence for his error, and submitted very patiently to be railed at
by those very counsellors whose persuasion had induced him to incur
the guilt, and who had promised to countenance and protect him. He was
condemned to imprisonment during the queen's pleasure, and to pay a
fine of ten thousand pounds. He remained a long time in custody; and the
fine, though it reduced him to beggary, was rigorously levied upon him.
All the favor which he could obtain from the queen, was sending
him small supplies from time to time, to keep him from perishing in
necessity.[**]

* Camden, p. 536. Spotswood, p. 358.

** Camden, p. 538.

He privately wrote an apology to his friend Walsingham, which contains
many curious particulars. The French and Scotch ambassadors, he said,
had been remonstrating with the queen in Mary's behalf; and immediately
after their departure, she commanded him, of her own accord to deliver
her the warrant for the execution of that princess. She signed it
readily, and ordered it to be sealed with the great seal of England. She
appeared in such good humour on the occasion, that she said to him in
a jocular manner, "Go, tell all this to Walsingham, who is now sick;
though I fear he will die of sorrow when he hears of it." She added,
that though she had so long delayed the execution, lest she should seem
to be actuated by malice or cruelty, she was all along sensible of the
necessity of it. In the same conversation, she blamed Drury and Paulet
that they had not before eased her of this trouble; and she expressed
her desire that Walsingham would bring them to compliance in that
particular. She was so bent on this purpose, that some time after she
asked Davison whether any letter had come from Paulet with regard to the
service expected of him. Davison showed her Paulet's letter, in which
that gentleman positively refused to act any thing inconsistent with
the principles of honor and justice. The queen fell into a passion, and
accused Paulet as well as Drury of perjury; because, having taken the
oath of association, in which they had bound themselves to avenge her
wrongs, they had yet refused to lend their hand on this occasion. "But
others," she said, "will be found less scrupulous." Davison adds, that
nothing but the consent and exhortations of the whole council could have
engaged him to send off the warrant: he was well aware of his danger;
and remembered that the queen, after having ordered the execution of the
duke of Norfolk, had endeavored, in a like manner, to throw the whole
blame and odium of that action upon Lord Burleigh.[*]

* Camden, p. 538. Strype, vol. iii. p. 375, 376. MS. in the
Advocates' Library, A. 3. 28, p. 17, from the Cott. Lib.
Calig. c. 9. Biog. Brit. p. 1625, 1627.

Elizabeth's dissimulation was so gross, that it could deceive nobody who
was not previously resolved to be blinded; but as James's concern for
his mother was certainly more sincere and cordial, he discovered the
highest resentment, and refused to admit Cary into his presence. He
recalled his ambassadors from England, and seemed to breathe nothing but
war and vengeance. The states of Scotland, being assembled, took part in
his anger; and professed that they were ready to spend their lives and
fortunes in revenge of his mother's death, and in defence of his title
to the crown of England. Many of his nobility instigated him to take
arms: Lord Sinclair, when the courtiers appeared in deep mourning,
presented himself to the king arrayed in complete armor and said, that
this was the proper mourning for the queen. The Catholics took the
opportunity of exhorting James to make an alliance with the king of
Spain, to lay immediate claim to the crown of England, and to prevent
the ruin which, from his mother's example, he might conclude would
certainly, if Elizabeth's power prevailed, overwhelm his person and his
kingdom. The queen was sensible of the danger attending these counsels;
and after allowing James some decent interval to vent his grief and
anger, she employed her emissaries to pacify him, and to set before him
every motive of hope or fear which might induce him to live in amity
with her.

Walsingham wrote to Lord Thirlstone, James's secretary, a judicious
letter to the same purpose. He said that he was much surprised to
hear of the violent resolutions taken in Scotland, and of the passion
discovered by a prince of so much judgment and temper as James: that
a war, founded merely on the principle of revenge, and that, too, on
account of an act of justice which necessity had extorted, would for
ever be exposed to censure, and could not be excused by any principles
of equity or reason: that if these views were deemed less momentous
among princes, policy and interest ought certainly to be attended to;
and these motives did still more evidently oppose all thoughts of
a rupture with Elizabeth, and all revival of exploded claims to the
English throne: that the inequality between the two kingdoms deprived
James of any hopes of success, if he trusted merely to the force of his
own state, and had no recourse to foreign powers for assistance: that
the objections attending the introduction of succors from a more potent
monarch, appeared so evident from all the transactions of history, that
they could not escape a person of the king's extensive knowledge; but
there were in the present case several peculiar circumstances, which
ought forever to deter him from having recourse to so dangerous an
expedient: that the French monarch, the ancient ally of Scotland, might
willingly use the assistance of that kingdom against England, but would
be displeased to see the union of these two kingdoms in the person of
James; a union which would ever after exclude him from practising that
policy, formerly so useful to the French, and so pernicious to the
Scottish nation: that Henry, besides, infested with faction and domestic
war, was not in a condition of supporting distant allies, much less
would he expose himself to any hazard or expense, in order to aggrandize
a near kinsman of the house of Guise, the most determined enemies of his
repose and authority: that the extensive power and exorbitant ambition
of the Spanish monarch rendered him a still more dangerous ally to
Scotland; and as he evidently aspired to a universal monarchy in the
west, and had in particular advanced some claims to England as if he
were descended from the house of Lancaster, he was at the same time the
common enemy of all princes who wished to maintain their independence,
and the immediate rival and competitor of the king of Scots: that the
queen by her own naval power and her alliance with the Hollanders, would
probably intercept all succors which might be sent to James from abroad,
and be enabled to decide the controversy in this island, with the
superior forces of her own kingdom, opposed to those of Scotland: that
if the king revived his mother's pretensions to the crown of England, he
must also embrace her religion, by which alone they could be justified;
and must thereby undergo the infamy of abandoning those principles
in which he had been strictly educated; and to which he had hitherto
religiously adhered: that as he would, by such an apostasy, totally
alienate all the Protestants in Scotland and England, he could never
gain the confidence of the Catholics, who would still entertain
reasonable doubts of his sincerity: that by advancing a present claim
to the crown, he forfeited the certain prospect of his succession;
and revived that national animosity which the late peace and alliance
between the kingdoms had happily extinguished: that the whole gentry and
nobility of England had openly declared themselves for the execution of
the queen of Scots; and if James showed such violent resentment against
that act of justice, they would be obliged, for their own security, to
prevent forever so implacable a prince from ruling over them: and
that, however some persons might represent his honor as engaged to seek
vengeance for the present affront and injury, the true honor of a prince
consisted in wisdom, and moderation, and justice, not in following the
dictates of blind passion, or in pursuing revenge at the expense of
every motive and every interest.[*]

* Strype, vol. iii. p. 377. Spotswood.

These considerations, joined to the peaceable, unambitious temper of the
young prince, prevailed over his resentment, and he fell gradually into
a good correspondence with the court of England. It is probable that the
queen's chief object in her dissimulation with regard to the execution
of Mary, was, that she might thereby afford James a decent pretence for
renewing his amity with her, on which their mutual interests so much
depended.

While Elizabeth insured tranquillity from the attempts of her nearest
neighbor, she was not negligent of more distant dangers. Hearing that
Philip, though he seemed to dissemble the daily insults and injuries
which he received from the English, was secretly preparing a great navy
to attack her, she sent Sir Francis Drake with a fleet to intercept
his supplies, to pillage his coast, and to destroy his shipping. Drake
carried out four capital ships of the queen's, and twenty-six, great
and small, with which the London merchants, in hopes of sharing in the
plunder, had supplied him. Having learned from two Dutch ships which he
met with in his passage, that a Spanish fleet, richly laden, was lying
at Cadiz, ready to sail for Lisbon, the rendezvous of the intended
armada, he bent his course to the former harbor, and boldly, as well as
fortunately, made an attack on the enemy. He obliged six galleys, which
made head against him, to take shelter under the forts: he burned
about a hundred vessels laden with ammunition and naval stores; and he
destroyed a great ship of the marquis of Santa Croce. Thence he set sail
for Cape St. Vincent, and took by assault the castle situated on that
promontory, with three other fortresses. He next insulted Lisbon; and
finding that the merchants, who had engaged entirely in expectation of
profit, were discontented at these military enterprises, he set sail
for the Terceras, with an intention of lying in wait for a rich carrack,
which was expected in those parts. He was so fortunate as to meet with
his prize; and by this short expedition, in which the public bore
so small a share, the adventurers were encouraged to attempt further
enterprises, the English seamen learned to despise the great unwieldy
ships of the enemy, the naval preparations of Spain were destroyed, the
intended expedition against England was retarded a twelvemonth, and
the queen thereby had leisure to take more secure measures against that
formidable invasion.[*]

* Camden, p. 540. Sir William Monson's Naval Tracts in
Churchill's Voyages, vol. iii. p. 156.

This year, Thomas Cavendish, a gentleman of Devonshire, who had
dissipated a good estate by living at court, being resolved to repair
his fortune at the expense of the Spaniards fitted out three ships at
Plymouth one of a hundred and twenty tons, another of sixty, and a third
of forty; and with these small vessels he ventured into the South Sea,
and committed great depredations on the Spaniards. He took nineteen
vessels, some of which were richly laden; and returning by the Cape
of Good Hope, he came to London, and entered the river in a kind of
triumph. His mariners and soldiers were clothed in silk, his sails were
of damask, his topsail cloth of gold; and his prizes were esteemed the
richest that ever had been brought into England.[*]

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 57.

The land enterprises of the English were not, during this campaign, so
advantageous or honorable to the nation. The important place of Deventer
was intrusted by Leicester to William Stanley, with a garrison of twelve
hundred English; and this gentleman, being a Catholic, was alarmed at
the discovery of Babington's conspiracy, and became apprehensive lest
every one of his religion should thenceforth be treated with distrust in
England. He entered into a correspondence with the Spaniards, betrayed
the city to them for a sum of money, and engaged the whole garrison to
desert with him to the Spanish service. Roland York, who commanded a
fort near Zutphen, imitated his example; and the Hollanders, formerly
disgusted with Leicester, and suspicious of the English, broke out into
loud complaints against the improvidence, if not the treachery, of his
administration. Soon after, he himself arrived in the Low Countries;
but his conduct was nowise calculated to give them satisfaction, or to
remove the suspicions which they had entertained against him. The prince
of Parma having besieged Sluys, Leicester attempted to relieve the
place, first by sea, then by land; but failed in both enterprises; and
as he ascribed his bad success to the ill behavior of the Hollanders,
they were equally free in reflections upon his conduct. The breach
between them became wider every day: they slighted his authority,
opposed his measures, and neglected his counsels; while he endeavored by
an imperious behavior, and by violence, to recover that influence which
he had lost by his imprudent and ill-concerted measures. He was even
suspected by the Dutch of a design to usurp upon their liberties; and
the jealousy entertained against him began to extend towards the queen
herself. That princess had made some advances towards a peace with
Spain: a congress had been opened at Bourbourg, a village near
Graveline: and though the two courts, especially that of Spain, had no
other intention than to amuse each of them its enemy by negotiation, and
mutually relax the preparations for defence or attack, the Dutch, who
were determined on no terms to return under the Spanish yoke, became
apprehensive lest their liberty should be sacrificed to the political
interests of England.[*] But the queen, who knew the importance of her
alliance with the states during the present conjuncture, was resolved
to give them entire satisfaction, by recalling Leicester, and commanding
him to resign his government. Maurice son of the late prince of Orange,
a youth of twenty years of age, was elected by the states governor in
his place; and Peregrine Lord Willoughby was appointed by the queen
commander of the English forces. The measures of these two generals were
much embarrassed by the malignity of Leicester, who had left a faction
behind him, and who still attempted, by means of his emissaries, to
disturb all the operations of the states. As soon as Elizabeth received
intelligence of these disorders, she took care to redress them; and she
obliged all the partisans of England to fall into unanimity with
Prince Maurice.[**] But though her good sense so far prevailed over her
partiality to Leicester, she never could be made fully sensible of his
vices and incapacity: the submissions which he made her restored him to
her wonted favor; and Lord Buckhurst, who had accused him of misconduct
in Holland, lost her confidence for some time, and was even committed to
custody.

* Bentivoglio, part ii. lib. iv. Strype, vol. iv. No. 246.

* Rymer, tom. xv. p. 66.

Sir Christopher Hatton was another favorite who at this time received
some marks of her partiality. Though he had never followed the
profession of the law, he was made chancellor, in the place of Bromley,
deceased; but, notwithstanding all the expectations, and perhaps
wishes of the lawyers, he behaved in a manner not unworthy of that high
station: his good natural capacity supplied the place of experience and
study; and his decisions were not found deficient, either in point of
equity or judgment. His enemies had contributed to this promotion, in
hopes that his absence from court, while he attended the business of
chancery, would gradually estrange the queen from him, and give them an
opportunity of undermining him in her favor.

{1568.} These little intrigues and cabals of the court were silenced by
the account which came from all quarters, of the vast preparations
made by the Spaniards for the invasion of England, and for the entire
conquest of that kingdom. Philip, though he had not yet declared war on
account of the hostilities which Elizabeth every where committed upon
him, had long harbored a secret and violent desire of revenge against
her. His ambition also, and the hopes of extending his empire, were
much encouraged by the present prosperous state of his affairs; by the
conquest of Portugal, the acquisition of the East Indian commerce and
settlements, and the yearly importation of vast treasures from America.
The point on which he rested, his highest glory, the perpetual object of
his policy, was to support orthodoxy and exterminate heresy; and as the
power and credit of Elizabeth were the chief bulwark of the Protestants,
he hoped, if he could subdue that princess, to acquire the eternal
renown of reuniting the whole Christian world in the Catholic communion.
Above all, his indignation against his revolted subjects in the
Netherlands instigated him to attack the English, who had encouraged
that insurrection; and who, by their vicinity, were so well enabled to
support the Hollanders, that he could never hope to reduce these rebels,
while the power of that kingdom remained entire and unbroken. To subdue
England seemed a necessary preparative to the reestablishment of his
authority in the Netherlands; and notwithstanding appearances, the
former was in itself, as a more important, so a more easy undertaking
than the latter. That kingdom lay nearer Spain than the Low Countries,
and was more exposed to invasions from that quarter; after an enemy
had once obtained entrance, the difficulty seemed to be over, as it was
neither fortified by an or nature; a long peace had deprived it of all
military discipline and experience; and the Catholics, in which it still
abounded, would be ready, it was hoped, to join any invader who should
free them from those persecutions under which they labored, and should
revenge the death of the queen of Scots, on whom they had fixed all
their affections. The fate of England must be decided in one battle at
sea, and another at land; and what comparison between the English and
Spaniards, either in point of naval force, or in the numbers,
reputation, and veteran bravery of their armies? Besides the acquisition
of so great a kingdom, success against England insured the immediate
subjection of the Hollanders, who, attacked on every hand, and deprived
of all support, must yield their stubborn necks to that yoke which they
had so long resisted. Happily, this conquest, as it was of the utmost
importance to the grandeur of Spain, would not at present be opposed by
the jealousy of other powers, naturally so much interested to prevent
the success of the enterprise. A truce was lately concluded with the
Turks; the empire was in the hands of a friend and near ally; and
France, the perpetual rival of Spain, was so torn with intestine
commotions, that she had no leisure to pay attention to her foreign
interests. This favorable opportunity, therefore, which might never
again present itself, must be seized; and one bold effort made for
acquiring that ascendant in Europe, to which the present greatness and
prosperity of the Spaniards seemed so fully to entitle them.[*]

These hopes and motives engaged Philip, notwithstanding his cautious
temper, to undertake this hazardous enterprise; and though the prince,
now created by the pope duke of Parma, when consulted, opposed the
attempt, at least represented the necessity of previously getting
possession of some seaport town in the Netherlands, which might afford
a retreat to the Spanish navy,[**] it was determined by the Catholic
monarch to proceed immediately to the execution of his ambitious
project.

* Camden. Strype, vol. iii. p. 512.

** Bentivoglio, part ii. lib. iv.

During some time, he had been secretly making preparations, out as
soon as the resolution was fully taken, every part of his vast empire
resounded with the noise of armaments, and all his ministers, generals,
and admirals were employed in forwarding the design. The marquis of
Santa Croce, a sea officer of great reputation and experience, was
destined to command the fleet; and by his counsels were the naval
equipments conducted. In all the ports of Sicily, Naples, Spain, and
Portugal, artisans were employed in building vessels of uncommon size
and force; naval stores were bought at a great expense; provisions
amassed; armies levied and quartered in the maritime towns of Spain;
and plans laid for fitting out such a fleet and embarkation as had never
before had its equal in Europe. The military preparations in Flanders
were no less formidable. Troops from all quarters were every moment
assembling to reënforce the duke of Parma. Capizuchi and Spinelli
conducted forces from Italy: the marquis of Borgaut, a prince of the
house of Austria, levied troops in Germany; the Walloon and Burgundian
regiments were completed or augmented: the Spanish infantry was supplied
with recruits and an army of thirty-four thousand men was assembled in
the Netherlands, and kept in readiness to be transported into England.
The duke of Parma employed all the carpenters whom he could procure,
either in Flanders or in Lower Germany and the coasts of the Baltic;
and he built at Dunkirk and Newport, but especially at Antwerp, a great
number of boats and flat-bottomed vessels, for the transporting of his
infantry and cavalry. The most renowned nobility and princes of
Italy and Spain were ambitious of sharing in the honor of this great
enterprise. Don Amadseus of Savoy, Don John of Medicis, Vespasian
Gonzaga, duke of Sabionetta, and the duke of Pastrana, hastened to
join the army under the duke of Parma. About two thousand volunteers
in Spain, many of them men of family, had enlisted in the service.
No doubts were entertained but such vast preparations, conducted by
officers of such consummate skill, must finally be successful. And the
Spaniards, ostentatious of their power, and elated with vain hopes, had
already denominated their navy the Invincible Armada.

News of these extraordinary preparations soon reached the court of
London; and notwithstanding the secrecy of the Spanish council, and
their pretending to employ this force in the Indies, it was easily
concluded that they meant to make some effort against England. The queen
had foreseen the invasion; and finding that she must now contend for
her crown with the whole force of Spain, she made preparations for
resistance; nor was she dismayed with that power, by which all Europe
apprehended she must of necessity be overwhelmed. Her force, indeed,
seemed very unequal to resist so potent an enemy. All the sailors in
England amounted at that time to about fourteen thousand men.[*] The
size of the English shipping was in general so small, that except a few
of the queen's ships of war, there were not four vessels belonging
to the merchants which exceeded four hundred tons.[**] The royal navy
consisted of only twenty-eight sail,[***] many of which were of small
size; none of them exceeded the bulk of our largest frigates, and most
of them deserved rather the name of pinnaces than of ships.

* Monson, p. 256.

** Monson, p. 268.

*** Monson p. 157

The only advantage of the English fleet consisted in the dexterity and
courage of the seamen, who, being accustomed to sail in tempestuous
seas and expose themselves to all dangers, as much exceeded in this
particular the Spanish mariners, as their vessels were inferior in
size and force to those of that nation.[*] All the commercial towns of
England were required to furnish ships for reenforcing this small
navy; and they discovered, on the present occasion, great alacrity in
defending their liberty and religion against those imminent perils with
which they were menaced. The citizens of London, in order to show their
zeal in the common cause, instead of fifteen vessels, which they were
commanded to equip, voluntarily fitted out double the number.[**] The
gentry and nobility hired, and armed, and manned forty-three ships
at their own charge;[***] and all the loans of money which the queen
demanded were frankly granted by the persons applied to. Lord Howard of
Effingham, a man of courage and capacity, was admiral, and took on
him the command of the navy: Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher, the most
renowned seamen in Europe, served under him. The principal fleet was
stationed at Plymouth. A smaller squadron, consisting of forty vessels,
English and Flemish, was commanded by Lord Seymour, second son of
Protector Somerset; and lay off Dunkirk, in order to intercept the duke
of Parma.

* Monson, p. 321.

** Monsm, p. 267

*** Lives of the Admirals, vol. i. p. 451.

The land forces of England, compared to those of Spain, possessed
contrary qualities to its naval power: they were more numerous than the
enemy, but much inferior in discipline, reputation, and experience. An
army of twenty thousand men was disposed in different bodies along the
south coast; and orders were given them, if they could not prevent the
landing of the Spaniards, to retire backwards, to waste the country
around, and to wait for reenforcement from the neighboring counties,
before they approached the enemy. A body of twenty-two thousand foot
and a thousand horse, under the command of the earl of Leicester, was
stationed at Tilbury in order to defend the capital. The principal army
consisted of thirty-four thousand foot and two thousand horse, and was
commanded by Lord Hunsdon. These forces were reserved for guarding the
queen's person, and were appointed to march whithersoever the enemy
should appear. The fate of England, if all the Spanish armies should be
able to land, seemed to depend on the issue of a single battle; and
men of reflection entertained the most dismal apprehensions, when they
considered the force of fifty thousand veteran Spaniards, commanded
by experienced officers, under the duke of Parma, the most consummate
general of the age; and compared this formidable armament with the
military power which England, not enervated by peace, but long disused
to war, could muster up against it.

The chief support of the kingdom seemed to consist in the vigor and
prudence of the queen's conduct; who, undismayed by the present dangers,
issued all her orders with tranquillity, animated her people to a
steady resistance, and employed every resource which either her domestic
situation or her foreign alliances could afford her. She sent Sir Robert
Sidney into Scotland; and exhorted the king to remain attached to her,
and to consider the danger which at present menaced his sovereignty
no less than her own, from the ambition of the Spanish tyrant:[*] the
ambassador found James well disposed to cultivate a union with England;
and that prince even kept himself prepared to march with the force of
his whole kingdom to the assistance of Elizabeth. Her authority with
the king of Denmark, and the tie of their common religion, engaged this
monarch, upon her application, to seize a squadron of ships which Philip
had bought or hired in the Danish harbors:[**] the Hanse Towns, though
not at that time on good terms with Elizabeth, were induced, by the same
motives, to retard so long the equipment of some vessels in their ports,
that they became useless to the purpose of invading England. All the
Protestants throughout Europe regarded this enterprise as the critical
event which was to decide forever the fate of their religion; and though
unable, by reason of their distance, to join their force to that of
Elizabeth, they kept their eyes fixed on her conduct and fortune, and
beheld with anxiety, mixed with admiration, the intrepid countenance
with which she encountered that dreadful tempest which was every moment
advancing towards her.

* She made him some promises which she never fulfilled, to
give him a dukedom in England, with suitable lands and
revenue, to settle five thousand pounds a year on him, and
pay him a guard, for the safety of his person. From a MS. of
Lord Hoyston's.

** Strype, vol. iii. p. 524.

The queen also was sensible that, next to the general popularity which
she enjoyed, and the confidence which her subjects reposed in her
prudent government, the firmest support of her throne consisted in the
general zeal of the people for the Protestant religion, and the strong
prejudices which they had imbibed against Popery. She took care, on the
present occasion, to revive in the nation this attachment to their own
sect, and this abhorrence of the opposite. The English were reminded
of their former danger from the tyranny of Spain: all the barbarities
exercised by Mary against the Protestants were ascribed to the counsels
of that bigoted and imperious nation: the bloody massacres in the
Indies, the unrelenting executions in the Low Countries, the horrid
cruelties and iniquities of the inquisition, were set before men's eyes:
a list and description was published, and pictures dispersed, of the
several instruments of torture with which, it was pretended, the Spanish
armada was loaded: and every artifice, as well as reason, was employed,
to animate the people to a vigorous defence of their religion, their
laws, and their liberties.

But while the queen, in this critical emergence, roused the animosity of
the nation against Popery, she treated the partisans of that sect with
moderation, and gave not way to an undistinguishing fury against them.
Though she knew that Sixtus Quintus, the present pope, famous for his
capacity and his tyranny, had fulminated a new bull of excommunication
against her, had deposed her, had absolved her subjects from their oaths
of allegiance, had published a crusade against England, and had granted
plenary indulgences to every one engaged in the present invasion, she
would not believe that all her Catholic subjects could be so blinded as
to sacrifice to bigotry their duty to their sovereign, and the liberty
and independence of their native country. She rejected all violent
counsels, by which she was urged to seek pretences for despatching
the leaders of that party: she would not even confine any considerable
number of them: and the Catholics, sensible of this good usage,
generally expressed great zeal for the public service. Some gentlemen
of that sect, conscious that they could not justly expect any trust or
authority, entered themselves as volunteers in the fleet or army:[*]
some equipped ships at their own charge, and gave the command of them to
Protestants: others were active in animating their tenants, and vassals,
and neighbors, to the defence of their country: and every rank of
men, burying for the present all party distinctions, seemed to prepare
themselves, with order as well as vigor, to resist the violence of these
invaders.

* Stowe, p. 747.

The more to excite the martial spirit of the nation, the queen appeared
on horseback in the camp at Tilbury; and riding through the lines,
discovered a cheerful and animated countenance, exhorted the soldiers to
remember their duty to their country and their religion, and professed
her intention, though a woman, to lead them herself into the field
against the enemy, and rather to perish in battle than survive the ruin
and slavery of her people.[*] [28]

* See note BB, at the end of the volume.

By this spirited behavior she revived the tenderness and admiration of
the soldiery: an attachment to her person became a kind of enthusiasm
among them: and they asked one another, whether it were possible
that Englishmen could abandon this glorious cause, could display
less fortitude than appeared in the female sex, or could ever, by any
dangers, be induced to relinquish the defence of their heroic princess.

The Spanish armada was ready in the beginning of May; but the moment
it was preparing to sail, the marquis of Santa Croce, the admiral, was
seized with a fever, of which he soon after died. The vice-admiral, the
duke of Paliano, by a strange concurrence of accidents, at the very same
time suffered the same fate; and the king appointed for admiral the
duke of Medina Sidonia, a nobleman of great family, but unexperienced
in action, and entirely unacquainted with sea affairs. Alcarede was
appointed vice-admiral. This misfortune, besides the loss of so great an
officer as Santa Croce, retarded the sailing of the armada, and gave
the English more time for their preparations to oppose them. At last
the Spanish fleet, full of hopes and alacrity, set sail from Lisbon;
but next day met with a violent tempest, which scattered the ships, sunk
some of the smallest, and forced the rest to take shelter in the Groine,
where they waited till they could be refitted. When news of this event
was carried to England, the queen concluded that the design of an
invasion was disappointed for this summer; and being always ready to lay
hold on every pretence for saving money, she made Walsingham write to
the admiral, directing him to lay up some of the larger ships, and to
discharge the seamen: but Lord Effingham, who was not so sanguine in his
hopes, used the freedom to disobey these orders; and he begged leave
to retain all the ships in service, though it should be at his own
expense.[*] He took advantage of a north wind, and sailed towards
the coast of Spain, with an intention of attacking the enemy in their
harbors; but the wind changing to the south, he became apprehensive lest
they might have set sail, and by passing him at sea, invade England, now
exposed by the absence of the fleet. He returned, therefore, with the
utmost expedition to Plymouth, and lay at anchor in that harbor.

Meanwhile all the damages of the armada were repaired; and the
Spaniards with fresh hopes set out again to sea, in prosecution of their
enterprise. The fleet consisted of a hundred and thirty vessels, of
which near a hundred were galleons, and were of greater size than any
ever before used in Europe. It carried on board nineteen thousand
two hundred and ninety-five soldiers, eight thousand four hundred and
fifty-six mariners, two thousand and eighty-eight galley slaves, and two
thousand six hundred and thirty great pieces of brass ordnance. It was
victualled for six months; and was attended by twenty lesser ships,
called caravals, and ten salves with six oars apiece.[**]

The plan formed by the king of Spain was, that the armada should sail
to the coast opposite to Dunkirk and Newport; and having chased away all
English or Flemish vessels which might obstruct the passage, (for it was
never supposed they could make opposition,) should join themselves with
the duke of Parma, should thence make sail to the Thames, and having
landed the whole Spanish army, thus complete at one blow the entire
conquest of England. In prosecution of this scheme, Philip gave orders
to the duke of Medina, that in passing along the Channel, he should sail
as near the coast of France as he could with safety; that he should by
this policy avoid meeting with the English fleet; and, keeping in view
the main enterprise, should neglect all smaller successes which might
prove an obstacle, or even interpose a delay, to the acquisition of a
kingdom.[***]

* Camden, p. 545.

** Strype, vol. iii. Append. p. 221.

*** Monson, p. 1.

After the armada was under sail, they took a fisherman, who informed
them that the English admiral had been lately at sea, had heard of the
tempest which scattered the armada, had retired back into Plymouth and
no longer expecting an invasion this season, had laid up his ships, and
discharged most of the seamen. From this false intelligence the duke
of Medina conceived the great facility of attacking and destroying
the English ships in harbor; and he was tempted, by the prospect of so
decisive an advantage, to break his orders, and make sail directly for
Plymouth; a resolution which proved the safety of England. The Lizard
was the first land made by the armada, about sunset; and as the
Spaniards took it for the Ram Head near Plymouth, they bore out to sea
with an intention of returning next day, and attacking the English navy.
They were descried by Fleming, a Scottish pirate, who was roving in
those seas, and who immediately set sail, to inform the English admiral
of their approach;[*] another fortunate event, which contributed
extremely to the safety of the fleet. Effingham had just time to get out
of port, when he saw the Spanish armada coming full sail towards him,
disposed in the form of a crescent, and stretching the distance of seven
miles from the extremity of one division to that of the other.

The writers of that age raise their style by a pompous description of
this spectacle; the most magnificent that had ever appeared upon the
ocean, infusing equal terror and admiration into the minds of all
beholders. The lofty masts, the swelling sails, and the towering prows
of the Spanish galleons, seem impossible to be justly painted, but by
assuming the colors of poetry; and an eloquent historian of Italy, in
imitation of Camden, has asserted, that the armada, though the ships
bore every sail, yet advanced with a slow motion; as if the ocean
groaned with supporting, and the winds were tired with impelling, so
enormous a weight.[**] The truth, however, is, that the largest of the
Spanish vessels would scarcely pass for third-rates in the present navy
of England; yet were they so ill framed, or so ill governed, that
they were quite unwieldy, and could not sail upon a wind, nor tack on
occasion, nor be managed in stormy weather by the seamen. Neither the
mechanics of ship-building, nor the experience of mariners, had attained
so great perfection as could serve for the security and government of
such bulky vessels; and the English, who had already had experience how
unserviceable they commonly were, beheld without dismay their tremendous
appearance.

* Monson, p. 158.

** Bentivoglio, part ii. lib. iv.

Effingham gave orders not to come to close fight with the Spaniards;
where the size of the ships, he suspected, and the numbers of the
soldiers, would be a disadvantage to the English; but to cannonade them
at a distance, and to wait the opportunity which winds, currents, or
various accidents must afford him of intercepting some scattered vessels
of the enemy. Nor was it long before the event answered expectation A
great ship of Biscay, on board of which was a considerable part of the
Spanish money, took fire by accident; and while all hands were employed
in extinguishing the flames, she fell behind the rest of the armada: the
great galleon of Andalusia was detained by the springing of her mast:
and both these vessels were taken, after some resistance, by Sir Francis
Drake. As the armada advanced up the Channel, the English hung upon
its rear, and still infested it with skirmishes. Each trial abated the
confidence of the Spaniards, and added courage to the English; and the
latter soon found, that even in close fight the size of the Spanish
ships was no advantage to them. Their bulk exposed them the more to the
fire of the enemy; while their cannon, placed too high, shot over
the heads of the English. The alarm having now reached, the coast of
England, the nobility and gentry hastened out, with their vessels
from every harbor, and reënforced the admiral. The earls of Oxford,
Northumberland, and Cumberland, Sir Thomas Cecil, Sir Robert Cecil,
Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Thomas Vavasor, Sir Thomas Gerrard, Sir Charles
Blount, with many others, distinguished themselves by this generous and
disinterested service of their country. The English fleet, after the
conjunction of those ships, amounted to a hundred and forty sail.

The armada had now reached Calais, and cast anchor before that place, in
expectation that the duke of Parma, who had gotten intelligence of their
approach, would put to sea and join his forces to them. The English
admiral practised here a successful stratagem upon the Spaniards. He
took eight of his smaller ships, and filling them with all combustible
materials, sent them, one after another, into the midst of the enemy.
The Spaniards fancied that they were fireships of the same contrivance
with a famous vessel which had lately done so much execution in the
Schelde near Antwerp; and they immediately cut their cables, and took
to flight with the greatest disorder and precipitation. The English
fell upon them next morning while in confusion; and besides doing great
damage to other ships, they took or destroyed about twelve of the enemy.

By this time, it was become apparent, that the intention for which these
preparations were made by the Spaniards was entirely frustrated.
The vessels provided by the duke of Parma were made for transporting
soldiers, not for fighting; and that general, when urged to leave
the harbor, positively refused to expose his flourishing army to such
apparent hazard; while the English not only were able to keep the sea,
but seemed even to triumph over their enemy. The Spanish admiral found,
in many rencounters, that while he lost so considerable a part of his
own navy, he had destroyed only one small vessel of the English; and he
foresaw, that by continuing so unequal a combat, he must draw inevitable
destruction on all the remainder. He prepared, therefore, to return
homewards; but as the wind was contrary to his passage through the
Channel, he resolved to sail northwards, and making the tour of the
island, reach the Spanish harbors by the ocean. The English fleet
followed him during some time; and had not their ammunition fallen
short, by the negligence of the offices in supplying them, they had
obliged the whole armada to surrender at discretion. The duke of Medina
had once taken that resolution, but was diverted from it by the advice
of his confessor. This conclusion of the enterprise would have been more
glorious to the English; but the event proved almost equally fatal to
the Spaniards. A violent tempest overtook the armada after it passed the
Orkneys; the ships had already lost their anchors, and were obliged to
keep to sea: the mariners, unaccustomed to such hardships, and not able
to govern such unwieldy vessels, yielded to the fury of the storm, and
allowed their ships to drive either on the western isles of Scotland, or
on the coast of Ireland, where they were miserably wrecked. Not a half
of the navy returned to Spain; and the seamen as well as soldiers who
remained, were so overcome with hardships and fatigue, and so dispirited
by their discomfiture, that they filled all Spain with accounts of the
desperate valor of the English and of the tempestuous violence of that
ocean which surrounds them.

Such was the miserable and dishonorable conclusion of an enterprise
which had been preparing for three years, which had exhausted the
revenue and force of Spain, and which had long filled all Europe with
anxiety or expectation. Philip, who was a slave to his ambition, but
had an entire command over his countenance, no sooner heard of the
mortifying event which blasted all his hopes, than he fell on his
knees, and rendering thanks for that gracious dispensation of Providence
expressed his joy that the calamity was not greater. The Spanish
priests, who had so often blessed this holy crusade and foretold its
infallible success, were somewhat at a loss to account for the victory
gained over the Catholic monarch by excommunicated heretics and an
execrable usurper: but they at last discovered, that all the calamities
of the Spaniards had proceeded from their allowing the infidel Moors to
live among them.[*] [29]

{1589.} Soon after the defeat and dispersion of the Spanish armada, the
queen summoned a new parliament, and received from them a supply of two
subsidies and four fifteenths, payable in four years. This is the first
instance that subsidies were doubled in one supply; and so unusual a
concession was probably obtained from the joy of the present success,
and from the general sense of the queen's necessities. Some members
objected to this heavy charge, on account of the great burden of loans
which had lately been imposed upon the nation.[**] [30]

Elizabeth foresaw that this house of commons, like all the foregoing,
would be governed by the Puritans; and therefore, to obviate their
enterprises, she renewed, at the beginning of the session, her usual
injunction, that the parliament should not on any account presume to
treat of matters ecclesiastical. Notwithstanding this strict inhibition,
the zeal of one Damport moved him to present a bill to the commons for
remedying spiritual grievances, and for restraining the tyranny of the
ecclesiastical commission, which were certainly great: but when Mr.
Secretary Woley reminded the house of her majesty's commands, no one
durst second the motion; the bill was not so much as read; and the
speaker returned it to Damport without taking the least notice of
it.[***] Some members of the house, notwithstanding the general
submission were even committed to custody on account of this
attempt.[****]

* See note CC, at the end of the volume.

** See note DD, at the end of the volume.

*** D'Ewes, p. 438.

**** Strype's Life of Whitgift, p. 280. Neal, vol. i. p.
500.

The imperious conduct of Elizabeth appeared still more clearly in
another parliamentary transaction. The right of purveyance was an
ancient prerogative, by which the officers of the crown could at
pleasure take provisions for the household from all the neighboring
counties, and could make use of the carts and carriages of the farmers;
and the price of these commodities and services was fixed and stated.
The payment of the money was often distant and uncertain; and the rates,
being fixed before the discovery of the West Indies, were much inferior
to the present market price; so that purveyance, besides the slavery
of it, was always regarded as a great burden, and being arbitrary and
casual, was liable to great abuses. We may fairly presume, that the
hungry courtiers of Elizabeth, supported by her unlimited power, would
be sure to render this prerogative very oppressive to the people; and
the commons had, last session, found it necessary to pass a bill for
regulating these exactions: but the bill was lost in the house of
peers.[*] The continuance of the abuses begat a new attempt for redress;
and the same bill was now revived, and again sent up to the house of
peers, together with a bill for some new regulations in the court of
exchequer. Soon after, the commons received a message from the upper
house, desiring them to appoint a committee for a conference. At this
conference, the peers informed them, that the queen, by a message
delivered by Lord Burleigh, had expressed her displeasure that the
commons should presume to touch on her prerogative. If there were any
abuses, she said, either in imposing purveyance, or in the practice of
the court of exchequer, her majesty was both able and willing to provide
due reformation; but would not permit the parliament to intermeddle in
these matters.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 434.

** D'Ewes, p. 440.

The commons, alarmed at this intelligence, appointed another committee
to attend the queen, and endeavor to satisfy her of their humble
and dutiful intentions. Elizabeth gave a gracious reception to the
committee: she expressed her great "inestimable loving care" towards her
loving subjects; which, she said, was greater than of her own self, or
even than any of them could have of themselves. She told them, that
she had already given orders for an inquiry into the abuses attending
purveyance, but the dangers of the Spanish invasion had retarded the
progress of the design; that she had as much skill, will, and power
to rule her household as any subjects whatsoever to govern theirs, and
needed as little the assistance of her neighbors; that the exchequer was
her chamber, consequently more near to her than even her house' bold,
and therefore the less proper for them to intermeddle with; and that
she would of herself, with advice of her council and the judges, redress
every grievance in these matters, but would not permit the commons, by
laws moved without her privity, to bereave her of the honor attending
these regulations.[*] The issue of this matter was the same that
attended all contests between Elizabeth and her parliaments.[**] She
seems even to have been more imperious, in this particular, than her
predecessors; at least her more remote ones: for they often permitted
the abuses of purveyance[***] [31]to be redressed by law.[****] Edward
III., a very arbitrary prince, allowed ten several statutes to be
enacted for that purpose.

* D'Ewes, p. 444.

** Si rixa est, ubi tu pulsus, ego vapulo tantum. Juv.

*** See note EE, at the end of the volume.

**** See the statutes under the head of Purveyance.

In so great awe did the commons stand of every courtier, as well as of
the crown, that they durst use no freedom of speech which they thought
would give the least offence to any of them. Sir Edward Hobby showed in
the house his extreme grief, that by some great personage, not a member
of the house, he had been sharply rebuked for speeches delivered in
parliament: he craved the favor of the house, and desired that some of
the members might inform that great personage of his true meaning
and intention in these speeches.[*] The commons, to obviate these
inconveniencies, passed a vote that no one should reveal the secrets of
the house.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 432, 433.

** An act was passed this session, enforcing the former
statute, which imposed twenty pounds a month on everyone
absent from public worship: but the penalty was restricted
to two thirds of the income of the recusant. 29 Eliz. c. 6.

The discomfiture of the armada had begotten in the nation a kind of
enthusiastic passion for enterprises against Spain; and nothing seemed
now impossible to be achieved by the valor and fortune of the English.
Don Antonio, prior of Crato, a natural son of the royal family of
Portugal, trusting to the aversion of his countrymen against the
Castilians, had advanced a claim to the crown; and flying first to
France, thence to England, had been encouraged both by Henry and
Elizabeth in his pretensions. A design was formed by the people, not the
court of England, to conquer the kingdom for Don Antonio: Sir Francis
Drake and Sir John Norris were the leaders in this romantic enterprise:
near twenty thousand volunteers[*] enlisted themselves in the service:
and ships were hired, as well as arms provided, at the charge of the
adventurers. The queen's frugality kept her from contributing more than
sixty thousand pounds to the expense; and she only allowed six of her
ships of war to attend the expedition.[**] There was more spirit and
bravery than foresight or prudence in the conduct of this enterprise.
The small stock of the adventurers did not enable them to buy either
provisions or ammunition sufficient for such an undertaking; they even
wanted vessels to stow the numerous volunteers who crowded to them;
and they were obliged to seize by force some ships of the Hanse Towns,
which they met with at sea; an expedient which set them somewhat at ease
in point of room for their men, but remedied not the deficiency of their
provisions.[***]

* Birch's Memoirs of Queen Elizabeth, vol. i. p. 61. Monson
(p. 267) says that there were only fourteen thousand
soldiers and four thousand seamen in the whole on this
expedition: but the account contained in Dr. Birch is given
by one of the most considerable of the adventurers.

** Monson, p. 267.

*** Monson, p. 159.

Had they sailed directly to Portugal, it is believed that the good will
of the people, joined to the defenceless state of the country, might
have insured them of success: but hearing that great preparations were
making at the Groine for the invasion of England, they were induced to
go thither, and destroy this new armament of Spain. They broke into the
harbor; burned some ships of war, particularly one commanded by Recalde,
vice-admiral of Spain; they defeated an army of four or five thousand
men, which was assembled to oppose them; they assaulted the Groine, and
took the lower town, which they pillaged; and they would have taken the
higher, though well fortified, had they not found their ammunition and
provisions beginning to fail them. The young earl of Essex, a nobleman
of promising hopes, who, fired with the thirst of military honor, had
secretly, unknown to the queen, stolen from England, here joined the
adventurers; and it was then agreed by common consent to make sail for
Portugal, the main object of their enterprise.

The English landed at Paniche, a seaport town twelve leagues from
Lisbon, and Norris led the army to that capital, while Drake undertook
to sail up the river, and attack the city with united forces. By this
time, the court of Spain had gotten leisure to prepare against the
invasion. Forces were thrown into Lisbon: the Portuguese were disarmed:
all suspected persons were taken into custody: and thus, though the
inhabitants bore great affection to Don Antonio, none of them durst
declare in favor of the invaders. The English army, however, made
themselves masters of the suburbs, which abounded with riches of
all kinds; but as they desired to conciliate the affections of the
Portuguese, and were more intent on honor than profit, they observed a
strict discipline, and abstained from all plunder. Meanwhile they found
their ammunition and provisions much exhausted; they had not a single
cannon to make a breach in the walls; the admiral had not been able to
pass some fortresses which guarded the river; there was no appearance
of an insurrection in their favor; sickness, from fatigue, hunger, and
intemperance in wine and fruits, had seized the army; so that it was
found necessary to make all possible haste to reëmbark. They were not
pursued by the enemy, and finding at the mouth of the river sixty ships
laden with naval stores, they seized them as lawful prize; though they
belonged to the Hanse Towns, a neutral power. They sailed thence to
Vigo, which they took and burned; and having ravaged the country around,
they set sail and arrived in England. Above half of these gallant
adventurers perished by sickness, famine, fatigue, and the sword;[*]
and England reaped more honor than profit from this extraordinary
enterprise. It is computed, that eleven hundred gentlemen embarked on
board the fleet, and that only three hundred and fifty survived those
multiplied disasters.[**]

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 61.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 61.

When these ships were on their voyage homewards, they met with the earl
of Cumberland, who was outward bound, with a fleet of seven sail, all
equipped at his own charge, except one ship of war which the queen had
lent him. That nobleman supplied Sir Francis Drake with some provisions;
a generosity which saved the lives of many of Drake's men, but for which
the others afterwards suffered severely. Cumberland sailed towards
the Terceras, and took several prizes from the enemy; but the richest,
valued at a hundred thousand pounds, perished in her return, with
all her cargo, near St. Michael's Mount, in Cornwall. Many of these
adventurers were killed in a rash attempt at the Terceras: a great
mortality seized the rest; and it was with difficulty that the few hands
which remained were able to steer the ships back into harbor.[*]

Though the signal advantages gained over the Spaniards, and the spirit
thence infused into the English, gave Elizabeth great security during
the rest of her reign, she could not forbear keeping an anxious eye on
Scotland, whose situation rendered its revolutions always of importance
to her. It might have been expected that this high-spirited princess,
who knew so well to brave danger, would not have retained that malignant
jealousy towards her heir, with which, during the lifetime of Mary, she
had been so much agitated. James had indeed succeeded to all the claims
of his mother; but he had not succeeded to the favor of the Catholics,
which could alone render these claims dangerous:[**] and as the queen
was now well advanced in years, and enjoyed an uncontrolled authority
over her subjects, it was not likely that the king of Scots, who was of
an indolent, unambitious temper, would ever give her any disturbance
in her possession of the throne. Yet all these circumstances could not
remove her timorous suspicions; and so far from satisfying the nation by
a settlement of the succession, or a declaration of James's title, she
was as anxious to prevent every incident which might anywise raise his
credit, or procure him the regard of the English, as if he had been her
immediate rival and competitor. Most of his ministers and favorites were
her pensioners; and as she was desirous to hinder him from marrying and
having children, she obliged them to throw obstacles in the way of
every alliance, even the most reasonable which could be offered him; and
during some years she succeeded in this malignant policy.[***]

* Monson, p. 161.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 41.

*** Melvil, p. 166, 177.

He had fixed on the elder daughter of the king of Denmark, who, being a
remote prince and not powerful, could give her no umbrage; yet did she
so artfully cross this negotiation, that the Danish monarch, impatient
of delay, married his daughter to the duke of Brunswick. James then
renewed his suit to the younger princess, and still found obstacles
from the intrigues of Elizabeth, who, merely with a view of interposing
delay, proposed to him the sister of the king of Navarre, a princess
much older than himself, and entirely destitute of fortune. The young
king, besides the desire of securing himself, by the prospect of issue,
from those traitorous attempts too frequent among his subjects had been
so watched by the rigid austerity of the ecclesiastics, that he had
another inducement to marry, which is not so usual with monarchs. His
impatience, therefore, broke through all the politics of Elizabeth: the
articles of marriage were settled; the ceremony was performed by proxy;
and the princess embarked for Scotland; but was driven by a storm into
a port of Norway. This tempest, and some others which happened near the
same time, were universally believed in Scotland and Denmark to have
proceeded from a combination of the Scottish and Danish witches; and
the dying confession of the criminals was supposed to put the accusation
beyond all controversy.[*] James, however, though a great believer in
sorcery, was not deterred by this incident from taking a voyage in
order to conduct his bride home: he arrived in Norway; carried the queen
thence to Copenhagen: and having passed the winter in that city, he
brought her next spring to Scotland, where they were joyfully received
by the people. The clergy alone, who never neglected an opportunity
of vexing their prince, made opposition to the queen's coronation,
on account of the ceremony of anointing her, which, they alleged, was
either a Jewish or a Popish rite, and therefore utterly antichristian
and unlawful. But James was as much bent on the ceremony as they
were averse to it: and after much controversy and many intrigues, his
authority, which had not often happened, at last prevailed over their
opposition.[**]

* Melvil, p. 180.

** Spotswood, p. 381.

CHAPTER XLIII.

ELIZABETH.

{1590.} After a state of great anxiety and many difficulties, Elizabeth
had at length reached a situation where, though her affairs still
required attention, and found employment for her active spirit, she was
removed from all danger of any immediate revolution, and might regard
the efforts of her enemies with some degree of confidence and security.
Her successful and prudent administration had gained her, together with
the admiration of foreigners, the affections of her own subjects; and,
after the death of the queen of Scots, even the Catholics, however
discontented, pretended not to dispute her title, or adhere to any other
person as her competitor. James, curbed by his factious nobility
and ecclesiastics, possessed at home very little authority; and was
solicitous to remain on good terms with Elizabeth and the English
nation, in hopes that time, aided by his patient tranquillity, would
secure him that rich succession to which his birth entitled him. The
Hollanders, though overmatched in their contest with Spain, still made
an obstinate resistance; and such was their unconquerable antipathy to
their old masters, and such the prudent conduct of young Maurice, their
governor, that the subduing of that small territory, if at all possible,
must be the work of years, and the result of many and great successes.
Philip, who, in his powerful effort against England, had been
transported by resentment and ambition beyond his usual cautious maxims,
was now disabled, and still more discouraged, from adventuring again
on such hazardous enterprises. The situation also of affairs in France
began chiefly to employ his attention; but notwithstanding all his
artifice, and force, and expense, the events in that kingdom proved
every day more contrary to his expectations, and more favorable to the
friends and confederates of England.

The violence of the league having constrained Henry to declare war
against the Hugonots, these religionists seemed exposed to the utmost
danger; and Elizabeth sensible of the intimate connection between her
own interests and those of that party, had supported the king of Navarre
by her negotiations in Germany, and by large sums of money, which she
remitted for levying forces in that country. This great prince, not
discouraged by the superiority of his enemies, took the field; and in
the year 1587 gained at Coutras a complete victory over the army of
the French king; but as his allies, the Germans were at the same time
discomfited by the army of the league, under the duke of Guise, his
situation, notwithstanding his victory, seemed still as desperate as
ever. The chief advantage which he reaped by this diversity of success,
arose from the dissensions which by that means took place among his
enemies. The inhabitants of Paris, intoxicated with admiration of Guise,
and strongly prejudiced against their king, whose intentions had become
suspicious to them, took to arms and obliged Henry to fly for his
safety. That prince, dissembling his resentment, entered into a
negotiation with the league; and having conferred many high offices on
Guise and his partisans, summoned an assembly of the states at Blois, on
pretence of finding expedients to support the intended war against
the Hugonots. The various scenes of perfidy and cruelty which had been
exhibited in France, had justly begotten a mutual diffidence among all
parties; yet Guise, trusting more to the timidity than honor of the
king, rashly put himself into the hands of that monarch, and expected,
by the ascendant of his own genius, to make him submit to all his
exorbitant pretensions. Henry, though of an easy disposition, not steady
to his resolutions, or even to his promises, wanted neither courage nor
capacity; and finding all his subtleties eluded by the vigor of Guise,
and even his throne exposed to the most imminent danger, he embraced
more violent counsels than were natural to him, and ordered that prince
and his brother, the cardinal of Guise, to be assassinated in his
palace.

This cruel execution, which the necessity of it alone could excuse, had
nearly proved fatal to the author, and seemed at first to plunge him
into greater dangers than those which he sought to avoid by taking
vengeance on his enemy. The partisans of the league were inflamed with
the utmost rage against him: the populace every where, particularly at
Paris, renounced allegiance to him: the ecclesiastics and the preachers
filled all places with execrations against his name: and the most
powerful cities and most opulent provinces appeared to combine in a
resolution, either of renouncing monarchy, or of changing their monarch.
Henry, finding slender resource among his Catholic subjects, was
constrained to enter into a confederacy with the Hugonots and the
king of Navarre: he enlisted large bodies of Swiss infantry and German
cavalry: and being still supported by his chief nobility, he assembled,
by all these means, an army of near forty thousand men, and advanced
to the gates of Paris, ready to crush the league, and subdue all his
enemies. The desperate resolution of one man diverted the course of
these great events. Jaques Clement, a Dominican friar, inflamed by that
bloody spirit of bigotry which distinguishes this century and a great
part of the following beyond all ages of the world, embraced the
resolution of sacrificing his own life, in order to save the church from
the persecutions of an heretical tyrant; and being admitted, under some
pretext, to the king's presence, he gave that prince a mortal wound, and
was immediately put to death by the courtiers, who hastily revenged the
murder of their sovereign. This memorable incident happened on the first
of August, 1589.

The king of Navarre, next heir to the crown, assumed the government, by
the title of Henry IV.; but succeeded to much greater difficulties
than those which surrounded his predecessor. The prejudices entertained
against his religion, made a great part of the nobility immediately
desert him; and it was only by his promise of hearkening to conferences
and instruction, that he could engage any of the Catholics to adhere
to his undoubted title. The league, governed by the duke of Mayenne,
brother to Guise, gathered new force; and the king of Spain entertained
views, either of dismembering the French monarchy, or of annexing the
whole to his own dominions, In these distressful circumstances,
Henry addressed himself to Elizabeth, and found her well disposed to
contribute to his assistance, and to oppose the progress of the Catholic
league, and of Philip, her inveterate and dangerous enemies. To prevent
the desertion of his Swiss and German auxiliaries she made him a present
of twenty-two thousand pounds: a greater sum than, as he declared, he
had ever seen before: and she sent him a reënforcement of four thousand
men, under Lord Willoughby, an officer of reputation, who joined the
French at Dieppe. Strengthened by these supplies, Henry marched directly
to Paris; and having taken the suburbs sword in hand, he abandoned them
to be pillaged by his soldiers. He employed this body of English in many
other enterprises; and still found reason to praise their courage and
fidelity. The time of their service being elapsed, he dismissed them
with many high commendations. Sir William Drury, Sir Thomas Baskerville,
and Sir John Boroughs acquired reputation this campaign, and revived in
France the ancient fame of English valor.

The army which Henry, next campaign, led into the field, was much
inferior to that of the league; but as it was composed of the chief
nobility of France, he feared not to encounter his enemies in a pitched
battle at Yvrée, and he gained a complete victory over them. This
success enabled him to blockade Paris, and he reduced that capital to
the last extremity of famine; when the duke of Parma, in consequence
of orders from Philip, marched to the relief of the league, and obliged
Henry to raise the blockade. Having performed this important service, he
retreated to the Low Countries; and, by his consummate skill in the art
of war, performed these long marches in the face of the enemy, without
affording the French monarch that opportunity which he sought, of giving
him battle, or so much as once putting his army in disorder. The only
loss which he sustained was in the Low Countries, where Prince Maurice
took advantage of his absence, and recovered some places which the duke
of Parma had formerly conquered from the states.[*] [32]

* See note FF, at the end of the volume.

{1591.} The situation of Henry's affairs, though promising, was not
so well advanced or established as to make the queen discontinue
her succors; and she was still more confirmed in the resolution of
supporting him, by some advantages gained by the king of Spain. The duke
of Mercoeur, governor of Brittany, a prince of the house of Lorraine,
had declared for the league; and finding himself hard pressed by Henry's
forces, he had been obliged, in order to secure himself, to introduce
some Spanish troops into the seaport towns of that province. Elizabeth
was alarmed at the danger; and foresaw that the Spaniards, besides
infesting the English commerce by privateers, might employ these harbors
as the seat of their naval preparations, and might more easily, from
that vicinity, than from Spain or Portugal, project an invasion of
England. She concluded, therefore, a new treaty with Henry, in which she
engaged to send over three thousand men to be employed in the
reduction of Brittany; and she stipulated that her charges should, in a
twelvemonth, or as soon as the enemy was expelled, be refunded her.[*]
These forces were commanded by Sir John Norris, and under him by his
brother Henry, and by Anthony Shirley. Sir Roger Williams was at the
head of a small body which garrisoned Dieppe: and a squadron of ships,
under the command of Sir Henry Palmer, lay upon the coast of France, and
intercepted all the vessels belonging to the Spaniards or the leaguers.

The operations of war can very little be regulated beforehand by any
treaty or agreement; and Henry, who found it necessary to lay aside the
projected enterprise against Brittany, persuaded the English commanders
to join his army, and to take a share in the hostilities which he
carried into Picardy.[**] Notwithstanding the disgust which Elizabeth
received from this disappointment, he laid before her a plan for
expelling the leaguers from Normandy, and persuaded her to send over
a new body of four thousand men, to assist him in that enterprise. The
earl of Essex was appointed general of these forces; a young nobleman,
who, by many exterior accomplishments, and still more real merit, was
daily advancing in favor with Elizabeth, and seemed to occupy that place
in her affections, which Leicester, now deceased, had so long enjoyed.
Essex, impatient for military fame, was extremely uneasy to lie some
time at Dieppe unemployed; and had not the orders which he received from
his mistress been so positive, he would gladly have accepted of Henry's
invitation, and have marched to join the French army now in Champagne.
This plan of operations was also proposed to Elizabeth by the French
ambassador, but she rejected it with great displeasure; and she
threatened immediately to recall her troops, if Henry should persevere
any longer in his present practice of breaking all concert with her, and
attending to nothing but his own interests.[***]

* Camden, p. 561.

** Rymer, vol. xiv. p. 116.

*** Birch's Negotiations, p. 5. Rymer, tom. xiv. p. 123,
140.

Urged by these motives, the French king at last led his army
into Normandy, and laid siege to Rouen, which he reduced to great
difficulties. But the league, unable of themselves to take the field
against him, had again recourse to the duke of Parma, who received
orders to march to their relief. He executed this enterprise with his
usual abilities and success; and for the present frustrated all the
projects of Henry and Elizabeth. This princess, who kept still in view
the interests of her own kingdom in all her foreign transactions, was
impatient under these disappointments, blamed Henry for his negligence
in the execution of treaties, and complained that the English forces
were thrust foremost in every hazardous enterprise.[*] It is
probable, however, that their own ardent courage, and their desire of
distinguishing themselves in so celebrated a theatre of war, were the
causes why they so often enjoyed this perilous honor.

Notwithstanding the indifferent success of former enterprises, the queen
was sensible how necessary it was to support Henry against the league
and the Spaniards; and she formed a new treaty with him, in which
they agreed never to make peace with Philip but by common consent;
she promised to send him a new supply of four thousand men; and he
stipulated to repay her charges in a twelvemonth, to employ these
forces, joined to a body of French troops, in an expedition against
Brittany, and to consign into her hands a seaport town of that province,
for a retreat to the English.[**] Henry knew the impossibility of
executing some of these articles, and the imprudence of fulfilling
others; but finding them rigidly insisted on by Elizabeth, he accepted
of her succors, and trusted that he might easily, on some pretence, be
able to excuse his failure in executing his part of the treaty. This
campaign was the least successful of all those which he had yet carried
on against the league.

During these military operations in France, Elizabeth employed her
naval power against Philip, and endeavored to intercept his West Indian
treasures, the source of that greatness which rendered him so formidable
to all his neighbors. She sent a squadron of seven ships, under the
command of Lord Thomas Howard, for this service; but the king of Spain,
informed of her purpose, fitted out a great force of fifty-five sail,
and despatched them to escort the Indian fleet. They fell in with
the English squadron; and, by the courageous obstinacy of Sir Richard
Greenville, the vice-admiral, who refused to make his escape by flight,
they took one vessel, the first English ship of war that had yet fallen
into the hands of the Spaniards.[***] [33]The rest of the squadron
returned safely into England frustrated of their expectations, but
pleasing themselves with the idea that their attempt had not been
altogether fruitless in hurting the enemy.

* Camden, p. 562.

** Rymer, vol. xvi. p. 151, 168, 171, 173

*** See note GG, at the end of the volume.

The Indian fleet had been so long detained in the Havana from the
fear of the English, that they were obliged at last to set sail in an
improper season, and most of them perished by shipwreck ere they reached
the Spanish harbors.[*] The earl of Cumberland made a like unsuccessful
enterprise against the Spanish trade. He carried out one ship of the
queen's, and seven others equipped at his own expense; but the prizes
which he made did not compensate the charges.[**]

[Illustration: 1-527-raleigh.jpg SIR WALTER RALEIGH]

The spirit of these expensive and hazardous adventures was very
prevalent in England. Sir Walter Raleigh, who had enjoyed great favor
with the queen, finding his interest to decline, determined to recover
her good graces by some important undertaking; and as his reputation was
high among his countrymen, he persuaded great numbers to engage with him
as volunteers in an attempt on the West Indies.

{1592.} The fleet was detained so long in the Channel by contrary winds,
that the season was lost: Raleigh was recalled by the queen: Sir Martin
Frobisher succeeded to the command, and made a privateering voyage
against the Spaniards. He took one rich carrack near the Island of
Flores, and destroyed another.[***] About the same time, Thomas White, a
Londoner, took two Spanish ships, which, besides fourteen hundred chests
of quicksilver, contained above two millions of bulls for indulgences;
a commodity useless to the English, but which had cost the king of Spain
three hundred thousand florins, and would have been sold by him in the
Indies for five millions.

{1593.} This war did great damage to Spain; but it was attended with
considerable expense to England; and Elizabeth's ministers computed,
that since the commencement of it, she had spent in Flanders and France,
and on her naval expeditions, above one million two hundred thousand
pounds;[****] a charge which, notwithstanding her extreme frugality, was
too burthensome for her narrow revenues to support.

* Monson, p. 163.

** Monson, p. 169.

*** Monson, p. 165. Camden, p 569.

**** Strype, vol. iii.

She summoned, therefore, a parliament, in order to obtain supply: but
she either thought her authority so established that she needed to make
them no concessions in return, or she rated her power and prerogative
above money: for there never was any parliament whom she treated in a
more haughty manner, whom she made more sensible of their own weakness,
or whose privileges she more openly violated. When the speaker, Sir
Edward Coke, made the three usual requests, of freedom from arrests, of
access to her person, and of liberty of speech, she replied to him by
the mouth of Puckering, lord keeper, that liberty of speech was granted
to the commons, but they must know what liberty they were entitled to;
not a liberty for every one to speak what he listeth, or what cometh in
his brain to utter; their privilege extended no further than a liberty
of "aye" or "no:" that she enjoined the speaker, if he perceived any
idle heads so negligent of their own safety as to attempt reforming the
church, or innovating in the commonwealth, that he should refuse the
bills exhibited for that purpose, till they were examined by such as
were fitter to consider of these things, and could better judge of them:
that she would not impeach the freedom of their persons; but they must
beware lest, under color of this privilege, they imagined that any
neglect of their duty could be covered or protected: and that she would
not refuse them access to her person, provided it were upon urgent and
weighty causes, and at times convenient, and when she might have leisure
from other important affairs of the realm.[*]

Notwithstanding the menacing and contemptuous air of this speech, the
intrepid and indefatigable Peter Wentworth, not discouraged by his
former ill success, ventured to transgress the imperial orders of
Elizabeth. He presented to the lord keeper a petition, in which he
desired the upper house to join with the lower in a supplication to her
majesty for entailing the succession of the crown; and he declared that
he had a bill ready prepared for that purpose. This method of proceeding
was sufficiently respectful and cautious; but the subject was always
extremely disagreeable to the queen, and what she had expressly
prohibited any one from meddling with: she sent Wentworth immediately
to the Tower; committed Sir Thomas Bromley, who had seconded him, to the
Fleet prison, together with Stevens and Welsh, two members, to whom Sir
Thomas had communicated his intention.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 460, 469. Townsend, p.37.

** D'Ewes, p. 470. Townsend, p. 54.

About a fortnight after, a motion was made in the house to petition the
queen for the release of these members; but it was answered by all the
privy counsellors there present, that her majesty had committed them for
causes best known to herself, and that to press her on that head would
only tend to the prejudice of the gentlemen whom they meant to serve:
she would release them whenever she thought proper, and would be
better pleased to do it of her own proper motion, than from their
suggestion.[*] The house willingly acquiesced in this reasoning.

So arbitrary an act, at the commencement of the session, might well
repress all further attempts for freedom: but the religious zeal of the
puritans was not so easily restrained; and it inspired a courage which
no human motive was able to surmount. Morrice, chancellor of the duchy,
and attorney, of the court of wards, made a motion for redressing the
abuses in the bishops' courts, but above all, in the high commission;
where subscriptions, he said, were exacted to articles at the pleasure
of the prelates; where oaths were imposed, obliging persons to answer to
all questions without distinction, even though they should tend to their
own condemnation; and where every one who refused entire satisfaction to
the commissioners was imprisoned, without relief or remedy.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 497.

** D'Ewes, p. 474. Townsend, p. 60.

This motion was seconded by some members; but the ministers and privy
counsellors opposed it, and foretold the consequences which ensued. The
queen sent for the speaker, and after requiring him to deliver to
her Morrice's bill, she told him, that it was in her power to call
parliaments, in her power to dissolve them, in her power to give assent
or dissent to any determination which they should form: that her purpose
in summoning this parliament was twofold, to have laws enacted for the
further enforcement of uniformity in religion, and to provide for the
defence of the nation against the exorbitant power of Spain: that these
two points ought, therefore, to be the object of their deliberations:
she had enjoined them already, by the mouth of the lord keeper, to
meddle neither with matters of state nor of religion; and she wondered
how any one could be so assuming, as to attempt a subject so expressly
contrary to her prohibition: that she was highly offended with this
presumption; and took the present opportunity to reiterate the commands
given by the keeper, and to require that no bill, regarding either state
affairs or reformation in causes ecclesiastical, be exhibited in
the house: and that in particular she charged the speaker upon his
allegiance, if any such bills were offered, absolutely to refuse them a
reading, and not so much as permit them to be debated by the members.[*]
This command from the queen was submitted to without further question.
Morrice was seized in the house itself by a serjeant-at-arms, discharged
from his office of chancellor of the duchy, incapacitated from any
practice in his profession as a common lawyer, and kept some years
prisoner in Tilbury Castle.[**]

The queen having thus expressly pointed out both what the house should
and should not do, the commons were as obsequious to the one as to the
other of her injunctions. They passed a law against recusants; such
a law as was suited to the severe character of Elizabeth, and to the
persecuting spirit of the age. It was entitled, "An act to retain
her majesty's subjects in their due obedience;" and was meant, as the
preamble declares, to obviate such inconveniencies and perils as might
grow from the wicked practices of seditious sectaries and disloyal
persons: for these two species of criminals were always, at that time,
confounded together, as equally dangerous to the peace of society.
It was enacted, that any person, above sixteen years of age, who
obstinately refused during the space of a month to attend public
worship, should be committed to prison; that if, after being condemned
for this offence, he persist three months in his refusal, he must abjure
the realm; and that, if he either refuse this condition, or return after
banishment, he should suffer capitally as a felon, without benefit of
clergy.[***] This law bore equally hard upon the Puritans and upon the
Catholics; and had it not been imposed by the queen's authority, was
certainly, in that respect, much contrary to the private sentiments
and inclinations of the majority in the house of commons. Very little
opposition, however, appears there to have been openly made to it.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 474, 478. Townsend, p. 68.

** Heylin's History of the Presbyterians, p. 320.

*** 35 Eliz. c. 1.

**** After enacting this statute, the clergy, in order to
remove the odium from themselves, often took care that
recusants should be tried by the civil judges at the
assizes, rather than by the ecclesiastical commissioners.
Strype's Ann. vol. iv p. 264.

The expenses of the war with Spain having reduced the queen to great
difficulties, the grant of subsidies seems to have been the most
important business of this parliament; and it was a signal proof of the
high spirit of Elizabeth, that, while conscious of a present dependence
on the commons, she opened the session with the most haughty treatment
of them and covered her weakness under such a lofty appearance
of superiority. The commons readily voted two subsidies and four
fifteenths; but this sum not appearing sufficient to the court, an
unusual expedient was fallen upon to induce them to make an enlargement
in their concessions. The peers informed the commons in a conference,
that they could not give their assent to the supply voted, thinking it
too small for the queen's occasions: they therefore proposed a grant of
three subsidies and six fifteenths; and desired a further conference, in
order to persuade the commons to agree to this measure. The commons, who
had acquired the privilege of beginning bills of subsidy, took offence
at this procedure of the lords, and at first absolutely rejected the
proposal: but being afraid, on reflection, that they had by this refusal
given offence to their superiors, they both agreed to the conference,
and afterwards voted the additional subsidy.[*]

The queen, notwithstanding this unusual concession of the commons, ended
the session with a speech, containing some reprimands to them, and full
of the same high pretensions which she had assumed at the opening of the
parliament. She took notice, by the mouth of the keeper, that certain
members spent more time than was necessary by indulging themselves in
harangues and reasonings: and she expressed her displeasure on account
of their not paying due reverence to privy counsellors, "who," she told
them, "were not to be accounted as common knights and burgesses of the
house, who are counsellors but during the parliament; whereas the others
are standing counsellors, and for their wisdom and great service are
called to the council of the state."[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 483, 487, 488. Townsend, p. 66.

** D'Ewes, p. 466. Townsend, p. 17

The queen also, in her own person, made the parliament a spirited
harangue; in which she spoke of the justice and moderation of her
government, expressed the small ambition she had ever entertained of
making conquests, displayed the just grounds of her quarrel with the
king of Spain, and discovered how little she apprehended the power of
that monarch, even though he should make a greater effort against her
than that of his Invincible Armada. "But I am informed," added she,
"that when he attempted this last invasion, some upon the sea-coast
forsook their towns, fled up higher into the country, and left all naked
and exposed to his entrance: but I swear unto you by God, if I knew
those persons, or may know of any that shall do so hereafter, I will
make them feel what it is to be so fearful in so urgent a cause."[*] By
this menace, she probably gave the people to understand, that she would
execute martial law upon such cowards; for there was no statute by which
a man could be punished for changing his place of abode.

* D'Ewes, p. 466. Townsend, p. 48.

The king of France, though he had hitherto made war on the league
with great bravery and reputation, though he had this campaign gained
considerable advantages over them, and though he was assisted by a
considerable body of English under Norris, who carried hostilities into
the heart of Brittany, was become sensible that he never could, by
force of arms alone, render himself master of his kingdom. The nearer he
seemed by his military successes to approach to a full possession of the
throne, the more discontent and jealousy arose among those Romanists who
adhered to him; and a party was formed in his own court to elect some
Catholic monarch of the royal blood, if Henry should any longer refuse
to satisfy them by declaring his conversion. This excellent prince was
far from being a bigot to his sect; and as he deemed these theological
disputes entirely subordinate to the public good, he had secretly
determined, from the beginning, to come some time or other to
the resolution required of him. He had found, on the death of his
predecessor, that the Hugonots, who formed the bravest and most faithful
part of his army, were such determined zealots, that if he had at that
time abjured their faith, they would instantly have abandoned him to
the pretensions and usurpations of the Catholics. The more bigoted
Catholics, he knew, particularly those of the league, had entertained
such an unsurmountable prejudice against his person, and diffidence of
his sincerity, that even his abjuration would not reconcile them to
his title; and he must either expect to be entirely excluded from the
throne, or be admitted to it on such terms as would leave him little
more than the mere shadow of royalty. In this delicate situation, he
had resolved to temporize; to retain the Hugonots by continuing in the
profession of their religion; to gain the moderate Catholics by giving
them hopes of his conversion; to attach both to his person by conduct
and success; and he hoped, either that the animosity arising from
war against the league would make them drop gradually the question
of religion, or that he might in time, after some victories over his
enemies, and some conferences with divines, make finally, with more
decency and dignity, that abjuration which must have appeared at first
mean, as well as suspicious, to both parties.

When the people are attached to any theological tenets merely from a
general persuasion or prepossession, they are easily induced, by any
motive or authority, to change their faith in these mysterious subjects;
as appears from the example of the English, who, during some reigns,
usually embraced, without scruple, the still varying religion of their
sovereigns. But the French nation, where principles had so long been
displayed as the badges of faction, and where each party had fortified
its belief by an animosity against the other, were not found so pliable
or inconstant; and Henry was at last convinced that the Catholics of
his party would entirely abandon him, if he gave them not immediate
satisfaction in this particular. The Hugonots also, taught by
experience, clearly saw that his desertion of them was become absolutely
necessary for the public settlement; and so general was this persuasion
among them, that, as the duke of Sully pretends, even the divines of
that party purposely allowed themselves to be worsted in the disputes
and conferences, that the king might more readily be convinced of the
weakness of their cause, and might more cordially and sincerely, at
least more decently, embrace the religion which it was so much his
interest to believe. If this self-denial, in so tender a point, should
appear incredible and supernatural in theologians, it will, at least,
be thought very natural, that a prince so little instructed in these
matters as Henry, and desirous to preserve his sincerity, should
insensibly bend his opinion to the necessity of his affairs, and should
believe that party to have the best arguments, who could alone put him
in possession of a kingdom. All circumstances, therefore, being prepared
for this great event, that monarch renounced the Protestant religion,
and was solemnly received by the French prelates of his party into the
bosom of the church.

Elizabeth, who was herself attached to the Protestants chiefly by her
interests and the circumstances of her birth, and who seems to have
entertained some propensity during her whole life to the Catholic
superstition, at least to the ancient ceremonies, yet pretended to be
extremely displeased with this abjuration of Henry; and she wrote him
an angry letter, reproaching him with this interested change of his
religion. Sensible however, that the league and the king of Spain were
still their common enemies, she hearkened to his apologies; continued
her succors both of men and money; and formed a new treaty, in which
they mutually stipulated never to make peace but by common agreement.

The intrigues of Spain were not limited to France and England: by means
of the never-failing pretence of religion, joined to the influence of
money, Philip excited new disorders in Scotland, and gave fresh alarms
to Elizabeth. George Ker, brother to Lord Newbottle, had been taken
while he was passing secretly into Spain; and papers were found about
him, by which a dangerous conspiracy of some Catholic noblemen with
Philip was discovered. The earls of Angus, Errol, and Huntley, the
heads of three potent families, had entered into a confederacy with the
Spanish monarch; and had stipulated to raise all their forces; to join
them to a body of Spanish troops which Philip promised to send into
Scotland; and after reëstablishing the Catholic religion in that
kingdom, to march with their united power in order to effect the same
purpose in England.[*] Graham of Fintry, who had also entered into this
conspiracy, was taken, and arraigned, and executed. Elizabeth sent Lord
Borough ambassador into Scotland, and exhorted the king to exercise the
same severity on the three earls, to confiscate their estates, and by
annexing them to the crown, both increase his own demesnes, and set
an example to all his subjects of the dangers attending treason and
rebellion. The advice was certainly rational, but not easy to be
executed by the small revenue and limited authority of James. He
desired, therefore, some supply from her of men and money; but though
she had reason to deem the prosecution of the three Popish earls a
common cause, she never could be prevailed on to grant him the least
assistance. The tenth part of the expense which she bestowed in
supporting the French king and the states, would have sufficed to
execute this purpose, more immediately essential to her security;[**]
but she seems ever to have borne some degree of malignity to James, whom
she hated, both as her heir, and as the son of Mary, her hated rival and
competitor.

* Spotswood, p. 391. Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 190.

** Spotswood, p. 393. Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 235

So far from giving James assistance to prosecute the Catholic
conspirators, the queen rather contributed to increase his inquietude,
by countenancing the turbulent disposition of the earl of Bothwell,[*]
a nobleman descended from a natural son of James V. Both well more than
once attempted to render himself master of the king's person; and being
expelled the kingdom for these traitorous enterprises, he took shelter
in England, was secretly protected, by the queen, and lurked near the
borders, where his power lay, with a view of still committing some new
violence. He succeeded at last in an attempt on the king; and by the
mediation of the English ambassador, imposed dishonorable terms upon
that prince: but James, by the authority of the convention of states,
annulled this agreement as extorted by violence, again expelled
Bothwell, and obliged him to take shelter in England. Elizabeth,
pretending ignorance of the place of his retreat, never executed the
treaties, by which she was bound to deliver up all rebels and fugitives
to the king of Scotland.

* Spotswood, p. 257, 258.

{1594.} During these disorders, increased by the refractory disposition
of the ecclesiastics, the prosecution of the Catholic earls remained in
suspense; but at last the parliament passed an act of attainder against
them, and the king prepared himself to execute it by force of arms. The
noblemen, though they obtained a victory over the earl of Argyle, who
acted by the king's commission found themselves hard pressed by James
himself, and agreed on certain terms to leave the kingdom. Bothwell,
being defected in a confederacy with them, forfeited the favor of
Elizabeth, and was obliged to take shelter, first in France, then in
Italy, where he died some years after in great poverty.

The established authority of the queen secured her from all such
attempts as James was exposed to from the mutinous disposition of his
subjects; and her enemies found no other means of giving her domestic
disturbance, than by such traitorous and perfidious machinations
as ended in their own disgrace, and in the ruin of their criminal
instruments. Roderigo Lopez, a Jew, domestic physician to the queen,
being imprisoned on suspicion, confessed that he had received a bribe
to poison her from Fuentes and Ibarra, who had succeeded Parma, lately
deceased, in the government of the Netherlands; but he maintained, that
he had no other intention than to cheat Philip of his money, and never
meant to fulfil his engagement. He was, however, executed for the
conspiracy; and the queen complained to Philip of these dishonorable
attempts of his ministers, but could obtain no satisfaction.[*] York
and Williams, two English traitors, were afterwards executed for a
conspiracy with Ibarra, equally atrocious.[**]

Instead of avenging herself by retaliating in a like manner, Elizabeth
sought a more honorable vengeance, by supporting the king of France, and
assisting him in finally breaking the force of the league, which, after
the conversion of that monarch, went daily to decay, and was threatened
with speedy ruin and dissolution. Norris commanded the English forces
in Brittany, and assisted at the taking of Morlaix, Quimpercorentin, and
Brest, towns garrisoned by Spanish forces. In every action, the English,
though they had so long enjoyed domestic peace, discovered a strong
military disposition; and the queen, though herself a heroine, found
more frequent occasion to reprove her generals for encouraging their
temerity, than for countenancing their fear or caution:[***] Sir Martin
Frobisher, her brave admiral, perished, with many others, before Brest.
Morlaix had been promised to the English for a place of retreat; but the
duke d'Aumont, the French general, eluded this promise, by making it be
inserted in the capitulation that none but Catholics should be admitted
into that city.

* Camden, p. 577. Birch's Negot. p. 15. Bacon, vol. iv. p.
381.

** Camden, p. 582.

*** Camden, p. 578.

Next campaign, the French king, who had long carried on hostilities with
Philip, was at last provoked, by the taking of Chatelet and Dourlens,
and the attack of Cambray, to declare war against that monarch.
Elizabeth, being threatened with a new invasion in England, and with an
insurrection in Ireland, recalled most of her forces, and sent Norris to
command in this latter kingdom. Finding also that the French league was
almost entirely dissolved, and that the most considerable leaders had
made an accommodation with their prince, she thought that he could well
support himself by his own force and valor; and she began to be more
sparing in his cause of the blood and treasure of her subjects.

Some disgusts which she had received from the states, joined to the
remonstrances of her frugal minister, Burleigh, made her also inclined
to diminish her charges on that side, and she even demanded by her
ambassador, Sir Thomas Bodley, to be reimbursed all the money which
she had expended in supporting them. The states, besides alleging the
conditions of the treaty, by which they were not bound to repay her till
the conclusion of a peace, pleaded their present poverty and distress,
the great superiority of the Spaniards, and the difficulty in supporting
the war; much more in saving money to discharge their encumbrances.
{1595.} After much negotiation, a new treaty was formed, by which the
states engaged to free the queen immediately from the charge of the
English auxiliaries, computed at forty thousand pounds a year; to pay
her annually twenty thousand pounds for some years; to assist her with a
certain number of ships; and to conclude no peace or treaty without her
consent. They also bound themselves, on finishing a peace with Spain,
to pay her annually the sum of a hundred thousand pounds for four
years; but on this condition, that the payment should be in lieu of all
demands, and that they should be supplied, though at their own charge,
with a body of four thousand auxiliaries from England.[*]

Camden, p. 586.

{1596.} The queen still retained in her hands the cautionary towns,
which were a great check on the rising power of the states; and she
committed the important trust of Flushing to Sir Francis Vere, a
brave officer, who had distinguished himself by his valor in the
Low Countries. She gave him the preference to Essex, who expected so
honorable a command; and though this nobleman was daily rising, both in
reputation with the people, and favor with herself, the queen, who was
commonly reserved in the advancement of her courtiers, thought proper
on this occasion to give him a refusal. Sir Thomas Baskerville was
sent over to France at the head of two thousand English, with which
Elizabeth, by a new treaty concluded with Henry, engaged to supply
that prince. Some stipulations for mutual assistance were formed by the
treaty; and all former engagements were renewed.

{1597.} This body of English were maintained at the expense of the
French king; yet did Henry esteem the supply of considerable advantage,
on account of the great reputation acquired by the English, in so many
fortunate enterprises undertaken against the common enemy. In the great
battle of Tournholt, gained this campaign by Prince Maurice, the English
auxiliaries under Sir Francis Vere and Sir Robert Sidney had acquired
honor; and the success of that day was universally ascribed to their
discipline and valor.

Though Elizabeth, at a considerable expense of blood and treasure, made
war against Philip in France and the Low Countries, the most severe
blows which she gave him, were by those naval enterprises which either
she or her subjects scarcely ever intermitted during one season. In
1594, Richard Hawkins, son of Sir John, the famous navigator, procured
the queen's commission, and sailed with three ships to the South Sea
by the Straits of Magellan; but his voyage proved unfortunate, and he
himself was taken prisoner on the coast of Chili. James Lancaster was
supplied the same year with three ships and a pinnace by the merchants
of London, and was more fortunate in his adventure. He took thirty-nine
ships of the enemy; and not content with this success, he made an attack
on Fernambouc, in Brazil, where he knew great treasures were at that
time lodged. As he approached the shore, he saw it lined with great
numbers of the enemy; but nowise daunted at this appearance, he placed
the stoutest of his men in boats, and ordered them to row with such
violence on the landing-place as to split them in pieces. By this bold
action he both deprived his men of all resource but in victory, and
terrified the enemy, who fled after a short resistance. He returned home
with the treasure which he had so bravely acquired. In 1595, Sir Walter
Raleigh, who had anew forfeited the queen's friendship by an intrigue
with a maid of honor, and who had been thrown into prison for this
misdemeanor, no sooner recovered his liberty, than he was pushed by his
active and enterprising genius to attempt some great action. The success
of the first Spanish adventurers against Mexico and Peru had begotten an
extreme avidity in Europe; and a prepossession universally took place,
that in the inland parts of South America, called Guiana, a country as
yet undiscovered, there were mines and treasures far exceeding any which
Cortes or Pizarro had met with. Raleigh, whose turn of mind was somewhat
romantic and extravagant, undertook at his own charge the discovery of
this wonderful country. Having taken the small town of St. Joseph, in
the Isle of Trinidado, where he found no riches, he left his ship, and
sailed up the River Oroonoko in pinnaces, but without meeting any thing
to answer his expectations. On his return, he published an account of
the country, full of the grossest and most palpable lies that were ever
attempted to be imposed on the credulity of mankind.[*]

The same year, Sir Francis Drake and Sir John Hawkins undertook a more
important expedition against the Spanish settlements in America; and
they carried with them six ships of the queen's and twenty more, which
either were fitted out at their own charge, or were furnished them by
private adventurers. Sir Thomas Baskerville was appointed commander of
the land forces which they carried on board. Their first design was to
attempt Porto Rico, where, they knew, a rich carrack was at that time
stationed; but as they had not preserved the requisite secrecy, a
pinnace, having strayed from the fleet, was taken by the Spaniards, and
betrayed the intentions of the English. Preparations were made in that
island for their reception; and the English fleet, notwithstanding the
brave assault which they made on the enemy, was repulsed with loss.
Hawkins soon after died, and Drake pursued his voyage to Nombre di Dios,
on the Isthmus of Darien; where, having landed his men, he attempted to
pass forward to Panama, with a view of plundering that place, or, if he
found such a scheme practicable, of keeping and fortifying it. But he
met not with the same facility which had attended his first enterprises
in those parts. The Spaniards, taught by experience, had every where
fortified the passes, and had stationed troops in the woods, who so
infested the English by continual alarms and skirmishes, that they
were obliged to return, without being able to effect any thing. Drake
himself, from the intemperance of the climate, the fatigues of his
journey, and the vexation of his disappointment, was seized with a
distemper of which he soon after died. Sir Thomas Baskerville took the
command of the fleet, which was in a weak condition; and after having
fought a battle near Cuba with a Spanish fleet, of which the event was
not decisive, he returned to England. The Spaniards suffered some loss
from this enterprise but the English reaped no profit.[**]

* Camden, p. 584

** Monson, p, 167.

The bad success of this enterprise in the Indies made the English rather
attempt the Spanish dominions in Europe, where they heard Philip was
making great preparations for a new invasion of England. A powerful
fleet was equipped at Plymouth, consisting of a hundred and seventy
vessels, seventeen of which were capital ships of war, the rest tenders
and small vessels: twenty ships were added by the Hollanders. In this
fleet there were computed to be embarked six thousand three hundred and
sixty soldiers, a thousand volunteers, and six thousand seven hundred
and seventy-two seamen besides the Dutch. The land forces were commanded
by the earl of Essex; the navy by Lord Effingham, high admiral. Both
these commanders had expended great sums of their own in the armament;
for such was the spirit of Elizabeth's reign. Lord Thomas Howard, Sir
Walter Raleigh, Sir Francis Vere, Sir George Carew, and Sir Coniers
Clifford had commands in this expedition, and were appointed council to
the general and admiral.[*]

The fleet set sail on the first of June, 1596; and meeting with a
fair wind, bent its course to Cadiz, at which place, by sealed orders
delivered to all the captains, the general rendezvous was appointed.
They sent before them some armed tenders, which intercepted every ship
that could carry intelligence to the enemy; and they themselves were
so fortunate, when they came near Cadiz, as to take an Irish vessel, by
which they learned that that port was full of merchant ships of great
value, and that the Spaniards lived in perfect security without any
apprehensions of an enemy. This intelligence much encouraged the
English fleet, and gave them the prospect of a fortunate issue to the
enterprise.

After a fruitless attempt to land at St. Sebastian's, on the western
side of the Island of Cadiz, it was, upon deliberation, resolved by the
council of war to attack the ships and galleys in the bay. This attempt
was deemed rash; and the admiral himself, who was cautious in his
temper, had entertained great scruples with regard to it: but Essex
strenuously recommended the enterprise; and when he found the resolution
at last taken, he threw his hat into the sea, and gave symptoms of the
most extravagant joy. He felt, however, a great mortification, when
Effingham informed him, that the queen, anxious for his safety, and
dreading the effects of his youthful ardor, had secretly given orders
that he should not be permitted to command the van in the attack.[**]

* Camden, p. 591.

** Monson, p. 196

That duty was performed by Sir Walter Raleigh and Lord Thomas Howard;
but Essex no sooner came within reach of the enemy, than he forgot the
promise which the admiral had exacted from him, to keep in the midst of
the fleet; he broke through and pressed forward into the thickest of
the fire. Emulation for glory, avidity of plunder, animosity against
the Spaniards, proved incentives to every one; and the enemy was soon
obliged to slip anchor, and retreat farther into the bay, where they ran
many of their ships aground. Essex then landed his men at the fort
of Puntal, and immediately marched to the attack of Cadiz, which
the impetuous valor of the English soon carried sword in hand. The
generosity of Essex, not inferior to his valor, made him stop the
slaughter, and treat his prisoners with the greatest humanity, and even
affability and kindness. The English made rich plunder in the city; but
missed of a much richer by the resolution which the duke of Medina, the
Spanish admiral, took of setting fire to the ships, in order to prevent
their falling into the hands of the enemy. It was computed, that the
loss which the Spaniards sustained in this enterprise amounted to
twenty millions of ducats;[*] besides the indignity which that proud and
ambitious people suffered from the sacking of one of their chief cities,
and destroying in their harbor a fleet of such force and value.

Essex, all on fire for glory, regarded this great success only as a step
to future achievements: he insisted on keeping possession of Cadiz; and
he undertook, with four hundred men and three months' provisions, to
defend the place, till succors should arrive from England; but all the
other seamen and soldiers were satisfied with the honor which they had
acquired; and were impatient to return home, in order to secure their
plunder. Every other proposal of Essex to annoy the enemy met with a
like reception; his scheme for intercepting the carracks at the Azores,
for assaulting the Groine, for taking St. Andero and St. Sebastian; and
the English, finding it so difficult to drag this impatient warrior from
the enemy, at last left him on the Spanish coast, attended by very few
ships[**] He complained much to the queen of their want of spirit in
this enterprise; nor was she pleased, that they had returned without
attempting to intercept the Indian fleet;[**] but the great success, in
the enterprise on Cadiz, had covered all their miscarriages: and that
princess, though she admired the lofty genius of Essex, could not
forbear expressing an esteem for the other officers.[***] The admiral
was created earl of Nottingham; and his promotion gave great disgust to
Essex.[****]

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 97.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 121.

*** Camden, p. 593.

**** Sidney Papers, vol. ii. p. 77.

In the preamble of the patent it was said, that the new dignity was
conferred on him on account of his good services in taking Cadiz, and
destroying the Spanish ships; a merit which Essex pretended to belong
solely to himself: and he offered to maintain this plea by single combat
against the earl of Nottingham, or his sons, or any of his kindred.

The achievements in the subsequent year proved not so fortunate; but
as the Indian fleet very narrowly escaped the English, Philip had still
reason to see the great hazard and disadvantage of that war in which he
was engaged, and the superiority which the English, by their naval power
and their situation, had acquired over him. The queen, having received
intelligence that the Spaniards, though their fleets were so much
shattered and destroyed by the expedition to Cadiz, were preparing a
squadron at Ferrol and the Groine, and were marching troops thither,
with a view of making a descent in Ireland, was resolved to prevent
their enterprise, and to destroy the shipping in these harbors. She
prepared a large fleet of a hundred and twenty sail, of which seventeen
were her own ships, forty-three were smaller vessels, and the rest
tenders and victuallers: she embarked on board this fleet five thousand
new-levied soldiers, and added a thousand veteran troops, whom
Sir Francis Vere brought from the Netherlands. The earl of Essex,
commander-in-chief both of the land and sea forces, was at the head of
one squadron; Lord Thomas Howard was appointed vice-admiral of another;
Sir Walter Raleigh of the third: Lord Mouatjoy commanded the land forces
under Essex: Vere was appointed marshal: Sir George Carew lieutenant
of the ordnance, and Sir Christopher Blount first colonel. The earls
of Rutland and Southampton, the Lords Grey, Cromwell, and Rich, with
several other persona of distinction, embarked as volunteers. Essex
declared his resolution either to destroy the new armada which
threatened England, or to perish in the attempt.

This powerful fleet set sail from Plymouth; but were no sooner out of
harbor than they met with a furious storm, which shattered and dispersed
them; and before they could be refitted, Essex found that their
provisions were so far spent, that it would not be safe to carry so
numerous an army along with him. He dismissed, therefore, all the
soldiers, except the thousand veterans under Vere; and laying aside all
thoughts of attacking Ferrol or the Groine, he confined the object of
his expedition to the intercepting of the Indian fleet which had at
first been considered only as the second enterprise which he was to
attempt.

The Indian fleet in that age, by reason of the imperfection of
navigation, had a stated course, as well as season, both in their going
out and in their return; and there were certain islands at which, as
at fixed stages, they always touched, and where they took in water and
provisions. The Azores being one of these places where about this time
the fleet was expected, Essex bent his course thither; and he informed
Raleigh, that he, on his arrival, intended to attack Fayal, one of these
islands. By some accident, the squadrons were separated; and Raleigh,
arriving first before Fayal, thought it more prudent, after waiting
some time for the general, to begin the attack alone, lest the
inhabitants should, by further delay, have leisure to make preparations
for their defence. He succeeded in the enterprise; but Essex, jealous of
Raleigh, expressed great displeasure at his conduct, and construed it
as an intention of robbing the general of the glory which attended that
action: he cashiered, therefore, Sidney, Bret, Berry, and others, who
had concurred in the attempt: and would have proceeded to inflict
the same punishment on Raleigh himself, had not Lord Thomas Howard
interposed with his good offices, and persuaded Raleigh, though
high-spirited, to make submissions to the general. Essex, who was
placable, as well as hasty and passionate, was soon appeased, and both
received Raleigh into favor, and restored the other officers to then
commands.[*] This incident, however, though the quarrel was seemingly
accommodated, laid the first foundation of that violent animosity which
afterwards took place between these two gallant commanders.

Essex made next a disposition proper for intercepting the Indian
galleons; and Sir William Monson, whose station was the most remote of
the fleet, having fallen in with them, made the signals which had been
agreed on. That able officer, in his Memoirs, ascribes Essex's failure,
when he was so near attaining so mighty an advantage, to his want of
experience in seamanship; and the account which he gives of the
errors committed by that nobleman, appears very reasonable as well as
candid.[**]

* Monson, p. 173.

** Monson, p. 174.

The Spanish fleet, finding that the enemy was upon them, made all the
sail possible to the Terceras, and got into the safe and well-fortified
harbor of Angra, before the English fleet could overtake them. Essex
intercepted only three ships; which, however, were so rich, as to repay
all the charges of the expedition.

The causes of the miscarriage in this enterprise were much canvassed
in England, upon the return of the fleet; and though the courtiers took
part differently, as they affected either Essex or Raleigh, the people
in general, who bore an extreme regard to the gallantry, spirit, and
generosity of ihe former, were inclined to justify every circumstance
of his conduct. The queen, who loved the one as much as she esteemed
the other, maintained a kind of neutrality, and endeavored to share her
favors with an impartial hand between the parties. Sir Robert Cecil,
second son of Lord Burleigh, was a courtier of promising hopes, much
connected with Raleigh; and she made him secretary of state, preferably
to Sir Thomas Bodley, whom Essex recommended for that office. But not
to disgust Essex, she promoted him to the dignity of earl marshal of
England; an office which had been vacant since the death of the earl
of Shrewsbury. Essex might perceive from this conduct, that she never
intended to give him the entire ascendant over his rivals, and might
thence learn the necessity of moderation and caution. But his temper was
too high for submission; his behavior too open and candid to practise
the arts of a court; and his free sallies, while they rendered him
but more amiable in the eyes of good judges, gave his enemies many
advantages against him.

The war with Spain, though successful, having exhausted the queen's
exchequer, she was obliged to assemble a parliament; where Yelverton, a
lawyer, was chosen speaker of the house of commons.[*] [34]

* See note HH, at the end of the volume.

Elizabeth took care, by the mouth of Sir Thomas Egerton, lord keeper,
to inform this assembly of the necessity of a supply. She said, that the
wars formerly waged in Europe had commonly been conducted by the parties
without further view than to gain a few towns, or at most a province,
from each other; but the object of the present hostilities, on the part
of Spain, was no other than utterly to bereave England of her religion,
her liberty, and her independence: that these blessings, however, she
herself had hitherto been able to preserve, in spite of the devil, the
pope, and the Spanish tyrant, and all the mischievous designs of all her
enemies; that in this contest she had disbursed a sum triple to all the
parliamentary supplies granted her; and, besides expending her ordinary
revenues, had been obliged to sell many of the crown lands: and that she
could not doubt but her subjects, in a cause where their own honor and
interests were so deeply concerned, would willingly contribute to
such moderate taxations as should be found necessary for the common
defence.[*] The parliament granted her three subsidies and six
fifteenths; the same supply which had been given four years before, but
which had then appeared so unusual, that they had voted it should never
afterwards be regarded as a precedent.

The commons, this session, ventured to engage in two controversies about
forms with the house of peers; a prelude to those encroachments which,
as they assumed more courage, they afterwards made upon the prerogatives
of the crown. They complained, that the lords failed in civility to
them, by receiving their messages sitting with their hats on; and that
the keeper returned an answer in the same negligent posture: but the
upper house proved, to their full satisfaction, that they were
not entitled, by custom and the usage of parliament, to any more
respect.[**] Some amendments had been made by the lords to a bill sent
up by the commons; and these amendments were written on parchment, and
returned with the bill to the commons. The lower house took umbrage at
the novelty: they pretended that these amendments ought to have
been written on paper, not on parchment; and they complained of this
innovation to the peers. The peers replied that they expected not such
a frivolous objection from the gravity of the house; and that it was not
material, whether the amendments were written on parchment or on paper,
nor whether the paper were white, black, or brown. The commons were
offended at this reply, which seemed to contain a mockery of them; and
they complained of it, though without obtaining any satisfaction.[***]

An application was made, by way of petition, to the queen from the
lower house, against monopolies; an abuse which had risen to an enormous
height; and they received a gracious though a general answer; for which
they returned their thankful acknowledgments.[****]

* D'Ewes, p. 525, 527. Townsend, p. 79.

** D'Ewes, p. 539, 540, 580, 585. Townsend, p. 93, 94, 95.

*** D'Ewes. p, 576, 577.

**** D'Ewes, p, 570, 573.

But not to give them too much encouragement in such applications, she
told them, in the speech which she delivered at their dissolution, "that
with regard to these patents, she hoped that her dutiful and loving
subjects would not take away her prerogative, which is the chief flower
in her garden, and the principal and head pearl in her crown and diadem;
but that they would rather leave these matters to her disposal." [*]
The commons also took notice, this session, of some transactions in
the court of high commission; but not till they had previously obtained
permission from her majesty to that purpose.[**]

* D'Ewes, p. 547.

** D'Ewes, p. 557, 558.

{1598.} Elizabeth had reason to foresee, that parliamentary supplies
would now become more necessary to her than ever; and that the chief
burden of the war with Spain would thenceforth lie upon England. Henry
had received an overture for peace with Philip; but before he would
proceed to a negotiation, he gave intelligence of it to his allies, the
queen and the states; that, if possible, a general pacification might be
made by common agreement. These two powers sent ambassadors to France,
in order to remonstrate against peace; the queen, Sir Robert Cecil and
Henry Herbert; the states, Justin Nassau and John Barnevelt. Henry said
to these ministers, that his early education had been amidst war and
danger, and he had passed the whole course of his life either in arms
or in military preparations: that after the proofs which he had given
of his alacrity in the field, no one could doubt but he would willingly,
for his part, have continued in a course of life to which he was now
habituated, till the common enemy were reduced to such a condition as no
longer to give umbrage either to him or to his allies: that no private
interests of his own, not even those of his people, nothing but the
most invincible necessity, could ever induce him to think of a separate
peace with Philip, or make him embrace measures not entirely conformable
to the wishes of all his confederates: that his kingdom, torn with
the convulsions and civil wars of near half a century, required some
interval of repose, ere it could reach a condition in which it might
sustain itself, much more support its allies: that after the minds of
his subjects were composed to tranquillity and accustomed to obedience,
after his finances were brought into order, and after agriculture
and the arts were restored, France, instead of being a burden, as at
present, to her confederates, would be able to lend them effectual
succor, and amply to repay them all the assistance which she had
received during her calamities: and that, if the ambition of Spain would
not at present grant them such terms as they should think reasonable, he
hoped that, in a little time, he should attain such a situation as
would enable him to mediate more effectually, and with more decisive
authority, in their behalf.

The ambassadors were sensible that these reasons were no feigned; and
they therefore remonstrated with the less vehemence against the measures
which, they saw, Henry was determined to pursue. The states knew that
that monarch was interested never to permit their final ruin; and having
received private assurances that he would still, notwithstanding the
peace, give them assistance both of men and money, they were well
pleased to remain on terms of amity with him. His greatest concern was
to give satisfaction to Elizabeth for this breach of treaty. He had a
cordial esteem for that princess, a sympathy of manners, and a gratitude
for the extraordinary favors which he had received from her during his
greatest difficulties: and he used every expedient to apologize and
atone for that measure which necessity extorted from him. But as Spain
refused to treat with the Dutch as a free state, and Elizabeth would not
negotiate without her ally, Henry found himself obliged to conclude at
Vervins a separate peace, by which he recovered possession of all the
places seized by Spain during the course of the civil wars, and procured
to himself leisure to pursue the domestic settlement of his kingdom. His
capacity for the arts of peace was not inferior to his military talents;
and in a little time, by his frugality, order, and wise government, he
raised France from the desolation and misery in which she was involved,
to a more flourishing condition than she had ever before enjoyed.

The queen knew that she could also, whenever she pleased, finish the war
on equitable terms; and that Philip, having no claims upon her, would be
glad to free himself from an enemy who had foiled him in every contest,
and who still had it so much in her power to make him feel the weight
of her arms. Some of her wisest counsellors, particularly the treasurer,
advised her to embrace pacific measures; and set before her the
advantages of tranquillity, security, and frugality, as more
considerable than any success which could attend the greatest victories.
But this high-spirited princess, though at first averse to war, seemed
now to have attained such an ascendant over the enemy, that she was
unwilling to stop the course of her prosperous fortune. She considered,
that her situation and her past victories had given her entire security
against any dangerous invasion; and the war must thenceforth be
conducted by sudden enterprises and naval expeditions, in which she
possessed an undoubted superiority: that the weak condition of Philip
in the Indies opened to her the view of the most durable advantages; and
the yearly return of his treasure by sea afforded a continual prospect
of important, though more temporary successes: that after his peace with
France, if she also should consent to an accommodation, he would be
able to turn his whole force against the revolted provinces of the
Netherlands, which, though they had surprisingly increased their power
by commerce and good government, were still unable, if not supported
by their confederates, to maintain war against so potent a monarch: and
that as her defence of that commonwealth was the original ground of the
quarrel, it was unsafe, as well as dishonorable, to abandon its cause
till she had placed it in a state of greater security.

These reasons were frequently inculcated on her by the earl of Essex,
whose passion for glory, as well as his military talents, made him
earnestly desire the continuance of war, from which he expected to reap
so much advantage and distinction. The rivalship between this nobleman
and Lord Burleigh made each of them insist the more strenuously on his
own counsel; but as Essex's person was agreeable to the queen, as well
as his advice conformable to her inclinations, the favorite seemed daily
to acquire an ascendant over the minister. Had he beer endowed with
caution and self-command equal to his shining qualities, he would have
so rivetted himself in the queen's confidence, that none of his enemies
had ever been able to impeach his credit: but his lofty spirit could ill
submit to that implicit deference which her temper required, and which
she had ever been accustomed to receive from all her subjects. Being
once engaged in a dispute with her about the choice of a governor for
Ireland, he was so heated in the argument, that he entirely forgot
the rules both of duty and civility, and turned his back upon her in a
contemptuous manner. Her anger, naturally prompt and violent, rose at
this provocation; and she instantly gave him a box on the ear, adding
a passionate expression suited to his impertinence. Instead of
recollecting himself, and making the submissions due to her sex and
station, he clapped his hand to his sword, and swore, that he would not
bear such usage, were it from Henry VIII. himself, and he immediately
withdrew from court. Egerton, the chancellor, who loved Essex, exhorted
him to repair his indiscretion by proper acknowledgments; and entreated
him not to give that triumph to his enemies, that affliction to his
friends, which must ensue from his supporting a contest with his
sovereign, and deserting the service of his country: but Essex was
deeply stung with the dishonor which he had received; and seemed to
think, that an insult which might be pardoned in a woman was become a
mortal affront when it came from his sovereign. "If the vilest of all
indignities," said he, "is done me, does religion enforce me to sue for
pardon? Doth God require it? Is it impiety not to do it? Why? Cannot
princes err? Cannot subjects receive wrong? Is an earthly power
infinite? Pardon me, my lord; I can never subscribe to these principles.
Let Solomon's fool laugh when he is stricken; let those that mean to
make their profit of princes, show no sense of princes' injuries: let
them acknowledge an infinite absoluteness on earth, that do not believe
an absolute infiniteness in heaven:" (alluding, probably, to the
character and conduct of Sir Walter Raleigh, who lay under the reproach
of impiety.) "As for me," continued he, "I have received wrong, I feel
it: my cause is good, I know it; and whatsoever happens, all the powers
on earth can never exert more strength and constancy in oppressing, than
I can show in suffering every thing that can or shall be imposed upon
me. Your lordship, in the beginning of your letter, makes me a player,
and yourself a looker on: and me a player of my own game, so you may see
more than I: but give me leave to tell you, that since you do but see,
and I do suffer, I must of necessity feel more than you." [*] [35]

* See note II, at the end of the volume.

This spirited letter was shown by Essex to his friends, and they were
so imprudent as to disperse copies of it; yet, notwithstanding this
additional provocation, the queen's partiality was so prevalent, that
she reinstated him in his former favor; and her kindness to him appeared
rather to have acquired new force from this short interval of anger and
resentment, The death of Burleigh, his antagonist, which happened about
the same time, seemed to insure him constant possession of the
queen's confidence; and nothing indeed but his own indiscretion could
thenceforth have shaken his well-established credit. Lord Burleigh died
in an advanced age; and, by a rare fortune was equally regretted by his
sovereign and the people. He rad risen gradually from small beginnings
by the mere force of merit; and though his authority was never entirely
absolute or uncontrolled with the queen, he was still, during the course
of near forty years, regarded as her principal minister. None of her
other inclinations or affections could ever overcome her confidence in
so useful a counsellor; and as he had had the generosity or good sense
to pay assiduous court to her during her sister's reign, when it was
dangerous to appear her friend, she thought herself bound in gratitude,
when she mounted the throne, to persevere in her attachments to him. He
seems not to have possessed any shining talents of address, eloquence,
or imagination; and was chiefly distinguished by solidity of
understanding, probity of manners, and indefatigable application in
business; virtues which, if they do not always enable a man to attain
high stations, do certainly qualify him best for filling them. Of
all the queen's ministers he alone left a considerable fortune to his
posterity; a fortune not acquired by rapine or oppression, but gained by
the regular profits of his offices, and preserved by frugality.

The last act of this able minister was the concluding of a new treaty
with the Dutch; who, after being in some measure deserted by the king of
France, were glad to preserve the queen's alliance, by submitting to any
terms which she pleased to require of them. The debt which they owed
her was now settled at eight hundred thousand pounds: of this sum they
agreed to pay, during the war, thirty thousand pounds a year; and these
payments were to continue till four hundred thousand pounds of the debt
should be extinguished. They engaged also, during the time that
England should continue the war with Spain, to pay the garrisons of the
cautionary towns. They stipulated, that if Spain should invade England,
or the Isle of Wight, or Jersey, or Scilly, they should assist her with
a body of five thousand foot and five hundred horse; and that in case
she undertook any naval armament against Spain, they should join an
equal number of ships to hers.[*] By this treaty, the queen was eased of
an annual charge of a hundred and twenty thousand pounds.

* Rymer, vol. xvi. p. 340.

Soon after the death of Burleigh, the queen, who regretted extremely the
loss of so wise and faithful a minister, was informed of the death
of her capital enemy, Philip II., who, after languishing under many
infirmities, expired in an advanced age at Madrid. This haughty
prince, desirous of an accommodation with his revolted subjects in the
Netherlands, but disdaining to make in his own name the concessions
necessary for that purpose, had transferred to his daughter, married to
Archduke Albert, the title to the Low Country provinces; but as it
was not expected that this princess could have posterity, and as the
reversion, on failure of her issue, was still reserved to the crown of
Spain, the states considered this deed only as the change of a name, and
they persisted with equal obstinacy in their resistance to the Spanish
arms. The other powers also of Europe made no distinction between the
courts of Brussels and Madrid; and the secret opposition of France, as
well as the avowed efforts of England, continued to operate against the
progress of Albert, as it had done against that of Philip.

CHAPTER XLIV.

ELIZABETH.

{1599.} Though the dominion of the English over Ireland had been
seemingly established above four centuries, it may safely be affirmed,
that their authority had hitherto been little more than nominal. The
Irish princes and nobles, divided among themselves, readily paid the
exterior marks of obeisance to a power which they were not able to
resist; but, as no durable force was ever kept on foot to retain them in
their duty, they relapsed still into their former state of independence.
Too weak to introduce order and obedience among the rude inhabitants,
the English authority was yet sufficient to check the growth of any
enterprising genius among the natives: and though it could bestow no
true form of civil government, it was able to prevent the rise of any
such form from the internal combination or policy of the Irish.[*]

* Sir J. Davies, p. 5, 6, 7, etc.

Most of the English institutions, likewise, by which that island was
governed, were to the last degree absurd, and such as no state before
had ever thought of, for preserving dominion over its conquered
provinces.

The English nation, all on fire for the project of subduing France,--a
project whose success was the most improbable, and would to them have
proved the most pernicious,--neglected all other enterprises, to which
their situation so strongly invited them, and which, in time, would have
brought them an accession of riches, grandeur, and security. The small
army which they maintained in Ireland, they never supplied regularly
with pay; and as no money could be levied on the island, which possessed
none, they gave their soldiers the privilege of free quarter upon
the natives. Rapine and insolence inflamed the hatred which prevailed
between the conquerors and the conquered: want of security among the
Irish, introducing despair, nourished still more the sloth natural to
that uncultivated people.

But the English carried further their ill-judged tyranny, instead
of inviting the Irish to adopt the more civilized customs of their
conquerors, they even refused, though earnestly solicited, to
communicate to them the privilege of their laws and every where marked
them out as aliens and as enemies. Thrown out of the protection of
justice, the natives could find no security but in force; and flying the
neighborhood of cities, which they could not approach with safety, they
sheltered themselves in their marshes and forests from the insolence of
their inhuman masters. Being treated like wild beasts, they became such;
and joining the ardor of revenge to their yet untamed barbarity, they
grew every day more intractable and more dangerous.[*]

As the English princes deemed the conquest of the dispersed Irish to be
more the object of time and patience than the source of military glory,
they willingly delegated that office to private adventurers; who,
enlisting soldiers at their own charge, reduced provinces of that
island, which they converted to their own profit. Separate jurisdictions
and principalities were established by these lordly conquerors: the
power of peace and war was assumed: military law was exercised over
the Irish whom they subdued, and, by degrees, over the English by whose
assistance they conquered; and, after their authority had once taken
root, deeming the English institutions less favorable to barbarous
dominion, they degenerated into mere Irish, and abandoned the garb,
language, manners, and laws of their mother country.[**]

By all this imprudent conduct of England, the natives of its dependent
state remained still in that abject condition into which the northern
and western parts of Europe were sunk, before they received civility and
slavery from the refined policy and irresistible bravery of Rome. Even
at the end of the sixteenth century, when every Christian nation was
cultivating with ardor every civil art of life, that island, lying in a
temperate climate, enjoying a fertile soil, accessible in its situation,
possessed of innumerable harbors, was still, notwithstanding these
advantages, inhabited by a people whose customs and manners approached
nearer those of savages than of barbarians.[***]

* Sir J. Davies, p. 102, 103, etc.

** Sir J. Davies, p. 133, 134, etc

*** See Spenser's Account of Ireland, throughout.

As the rudeness and ignorance of the Irish were extreme they were sunk
below the reach of that curiosity and love of novelty by which every
other people in Europe had been seized at the beginning of that century,
and which had engaged them in innovations and religious disputes, with
which they were still so violently agitated. The ancient superstition,
the practices and observances of their fathers, mingled and polluted
with many wild opinions, still maintained an unshaken empire over
them; and the example alone of the English was sufficient to render the
reformation odious to the prejudiced and discontented Irish. The old
opposition of manners, laws, and interest was now inflamed by religious
antipathy; and the subduing and civilizing of that country seemed to
become every day more difficult and more impracticable.

The animosity against the English was carried so far by the Irish, that,
in an insurrection raised by two sons of the earl of Clanricarde, they
put to the sword all the inhabitants of the town of Athenry, though
Irish, because they began to conform themselves to English customs, and
had embraced a more civilized form of life than had been practised by
their ancestors.[*]

The usual revenue of Ireland amounted only to six thousand pounds a
year:[**] the queen, though with much repining,[***] commonly added
twenty thousand more, which she remitted from England; and with
this small revenue a body of a thousand men was supported, which, on
extraordinary emergencies, was augmented to two thousand.[****] No
wonder that a force so disproportioned to the object, instead of
subduing a mutinous kingdom, served rather to provoke the natives, and
to excite those frequent insurrections, which still further inflamed the
animosity between the two nations, and increased the disorders to which
the Irish were naturally subject.

In 1560, Shan O'Neale, or the great O'Neale, as the Irish called him,
because head of that potent clan, raised a rebellion in Ulster; but
after some skirmishes, he was received into favor, upon his submission,
and his promise of a more dutiful behavior for the future.[v]

* Camden, p. 457.

** Memoirs of the Sidneys, vol. i. p. 86.

*** Cox, p. 342. Sidney, vol. i. p. 85, 200.

**** Camden, p. 542. Sidney, vol. i. p. 65, 109, 183, 184.

v Camden, p. 385, 391. 305

This impunity tempted him to undertake a new insurrection in 1567;
but being pushed by Sir Henry Sidney, lord deputy, he retreated into
Clandeboy, and rather than submit to the English, he put himself into
the hands of some Scottish islanders, who commonly infested those parts
by their incursions. The Scots, who retained a quarrel against him
on account of former injuries, violated the laws of hospitality, and
murdered him at a festival to which they had invited him. He was a man
equally noted for his pride, his violence, his debaucheries, and
his hatred of the English nation. He is said to have put some of his
followers to death because they endeavored to introduce the use of bread
after the English fashion.[*] Though so violent an enemy to luxury,
he was extremely addicted to riot; and was accustomed, after his
intemperance had thrown him into a fever, to plunge his body into
mire, that he might allay the flame which he had raised by former
excesses.[**] Such was the life led by this haughty barbarian; who
scorned the title of the earl of Tyrone, which Elizabeth intended to
have restored to him, and who assumed the rank and appellation of king
of Ulster. He used also to say, that though the queen was his sovereign
lady, he never made peace with her but at her seeking.[***]

Sir Henry Sidney was one of the wisest and most active governors that
Ireland had enjoyed for several reigns;[****] and he possessed
his authority eleven years; during which he struggled with many
difficulties, and made some progress in repressing those disorders which
had become inveterate among the people. The earl of Desmond, in 1569,
gave him disturbance, from the hereditary animosity which prevailed
between that nobleman and the earl of Ormond, descended from the only
family, established in Ireland, that had steadily maintained its loyalty
to the English crown.[v] The earl of Thomond, in 1570, attempted a
rebellion in Connaught, but was obliged to fly into France before his
designs were ripe for execution. Stukely, another fugitive, found such
credit with the pope, Gregory XIII., that he flattered that pontiff with
the prospect of making his nephew, Buon Compagno, king of Ireland; and,
as if this project had already taken effect, he accepted the title of
marquis of Leinster from the new sovereign.[v*] He passed next into
Spain; and after having received much encouragement and great rewards
from Philip, who intended to employ him as an instrument in disturbing
Elizabeth, he was found to possess too little interest for executing
those high promises which he had made to that monarch.

* Camden, p. 409.

** Camden, p. 409. Cox, p. 324.

*** Camden, p. 321.

**** Cox, p. 350.

v Camden, p. 424.

v* Camden, p. 430. Cox, p. 354

He retired into Portugal; and following the fortunes of Don Sebastian,
he perished with that gallant prince in his bold but unfortunate
expedition against the Moors.

Lord Gray, after some interval, succeeded to the government of Ireland;
and in 1579 suppressed a new rebellion of the earl of Desmond, though
supported by a body of Spaniards and Italians. The rebellion of
the Bourks followed a few years after; occasioned by the strict and
equitable administration of Sir Richard Bingham, governor of Connaught,
who endeavored to repress the tyranny of the chieftains over their
vassals.[*] The queen, finding Ireland so burdensome to her, tried
several expediants for reducing it to a state of greater order and
submission. She encouraged the earl of Essex, father to that nobleman
who was afterwards her favorite, to attempt the subduing and planting of
Clandeboy, Ferny, and other territories, part of some late forfeitures;
but that enterprise proved unfortunate; and Essex died of a distemper,
occasioned, as is supposed, by the vexation which he had conceived from
his disappointments. A university was founded in Dublin with a view
of introducing arts and learning into that kingdom, and civilizing
the uncultivated manners of the inhabitants.[**] But the most unhappy
expedient employed in the government of Ireland, was that made use of in
1585 by Sir John Perrot, at that time lord deputy; he put arms into
the hands of the Irish inhabitants of Ulster, in order to enable them,
without the assistance of the government, to repress the incursions of
the Scottish islanders, by which these parts were much infested.[***] At
the same time, the invitations of Philip, joined to their zeal for
the Catholic religion, engaged many of the gentry to serve in the
Low Country wars, and thus Ireland, being provided with officers and
soldiers, with discipline and arms, became formidable to the English,
and was thenceforth able to maintain a more regular war against her
ancient masters.

* Stowe, p. 720.

** Camden, p. 566.

*** Nanton's Fragmenta Regalia, p. 203.

Hugh O'Neale, nephew to Shan O'Neale, had been raised by the queen to
the dignity of earl of Tyrone; but having murdered his cousin, son of
that rebel, and being acknowledged head of his clan, he preferred the
pride of barbarous license and dominion to the pleasures of opulence and
tranquillity, and he fomented all those disorders by which he hoped to
weaken or overturn the English government. He was noted for the vices of
perfidy and cruelty, so common among uncultivated nations; and was also
eminent for courage, a virtue which their disorderly course of life
requires, and which, notwithstanding, being less supported by the
principle of honor, is commonly more precarious among them than among a
civilized people. Tyrone actuated by this spirit, secretly fomented the
discontents of the Maguires, O'Donnels, O'Rourks, Macmahons, and other
rebels; yet, trusting to the influence of his deceitful oaths and
professions, he put himself into the hands of Sir William Russel, who,
in the year 1594, was sent over deputy to Ireland. Contrary to the
advice and protestation of Sir Henry Bagnal, marshal of the army, he was
dismissed; and returning to his own country, he embraced the resolution
of raising an open rebellion, and of relying no longer on the lenity or
inexperience of the English government. He entered into a correspondence
with Spain; he procured thence a supply of arms and ammunition; and
having united all the Irish chieftains in a dependence upon himself, he
began to be regarded as a formidable enemy.

The native Irish were so poor, that their country afforded few other
commodities than cattle and oatmeal, which were easily concealed or
driven away on the approach of the enemy; and as Elizabeth was averse to
the expense requisite for supporting her armies, the English found much
difficulty in pushing their advantages, and in pursuing the rebels into
the bogs, woods, and other fastnesses to which they retreated. These
motives rendered Sir John Norris, who commanded the English army, the
more willing to hearken to any proposals of truce or accommodation made
him by Tyrone; and after the war was spun out by these artifices for
some years, that gallant Englishman, finding that he had been deceived
by treacherous promises, and that he had performed nothing worthy of his
ancient reputation, was seized with a languishing distemper, and died
of vexation and discontent. Sir Henry Bagnal, who succeeded him in the
command, was still more unfortunate. As he advanced to relieve the
fort of Black Water, besieged by the rebels, he was surrounded in
disadvantageous ground: his soldiers, discouraged by part of their
powders accidentally taking fire, were put to flight; and, though the
pursuit was stopped by Montacute, who commanded the English horse,
fifteen hundred men, together with the general himself, were left dead
upon the spot. This victory, so unusual to the Irish, roused their
courage, supplied them with arms and ammunition, and raised the
reputation of Tyrone, who assumed the character of the deliverer of his
country, and patron of Irish liberty.[*]

The English council were now sensible, that the rebellion of Ireland
was come to a dangerous head, and that the former temporizing arts, of
granting truces and pacifications to the rebels, and of allowing them to
purchase pardons by resigning part of the plunder acquired during their
insurrection, served only to encourage the spirit of mutiny and disorder
among them. It was therefore resolved to push the war by more vigorous
measures; and the queen cast her eye on Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy,
as a man, who, though hitherto less accustomed to arms than to books
and literature, was endowed, she thought, with talents equal to the
undertaking. But the young earl of Essex, ambitious of fame, and
desirous of obtaining this government for himself, opposed the choice of
Mountjoy; and represented the necessity of appointing for that important
employment, some person more experienced in war than this nobleman, more
practised in business, and of higher quality and reputation. By this
description, he was understood to mean himself;[**] and no sooner
was his desire known, than his enemies, even more zealously than his
friends, conspired to gratify his wishes. Many of his friends thought,
that he never ought to consent, except for a short time, to accept of
any employment which must remove him from court, and prevent him from
cultivating that personal inclination which the queen so visibly bore
him.[***]

* Cox, p. 415.

** Bacon, vol. iv. p. 512.

*** Cabala, p. 79.

His enemies hoped, that if by his absence she had once leisure to forget
the charms of his person and conversation, his impatient and lofty
demeanor would soon disgust a princess who usually exacted such profound
submission and implicit obedience from all her servants. But Essex was
incapable of entering into such cautious views; and even Elizabeth, who
was extremely desirous of subduing the Irish rebels, and who was much
prepossessed in favor of Essex's genius, readily agreed to appoint
him governor of Ireland, by the title of lord lieutenant. The more to
encourage him in his undertaking, she granted him by his patent more
extensive authority had ever before been conferred on any lieutenant;
the power of carrying on or finishing the war as he pleased, of
pardoning the rebels, and of filling all the most considerable
employments of the kingdom.[*] And to insure him of success, she levied
a numerous army of sixteen thousand foot and thirteen hundred horse,
which she afterwards augmented to twenty thousand foot and two thousand
horse; a force which, it was apprehended, would be able in one campaign
to overwhelm the rebels, and make an entire conquest of Ireland. Nor did
Essex's enemies, the earl of Nottingham, Sir Robert Cecil, Sir Walter
Raleigh, and Lord Cobham, throw any obstacles in the way of these
preparations; but hoped that the higher the queen's expectations of
success were raised, the more difficult it would be for the event to
correspond to them. In a like view, they rather seconded than opposed
those exalted encomiums, which Essex's numerous and sanguine friends
dispersed, of his high genius, of his elegant endowments, his heroic
courage, his unbounded generosity, and his noble birth; nor were they
displeased to observe that passionate fondness which the people every
where expressed for this nobleman. These artful politicians had studied
his character; and finding that his open and undaunted spirit, if
taught temper and reserve from opposition, must become invincible, they
resolved rather to give full breath to those sails which were already
too much expanded and to push him upon dangers of which he seemed to
make such small account.[**] And the better to make advantage of
his indiscretions, spies were set upon all his actions, and even
expressions; and his vehement spirit, which, while he was in the
midst of the court and environed by his rivals, was unacquainted with
disguise, could not fail, after he thought himself surrounded by
none but friends, to give a pretence for malignant suspicions and
constructions.

* Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 366.

** Camden. Osborne, p. 371.

Essex left London in the month of March, attended with the acclamations
of the populace; and, what did him more honor, accompanied by a numerous
train of nobility and gentry, who, from affection to his person, had
attached themselves to his fortunes, and sought fame and military
experience under so renowned a commander. The first act of authority
which he exercised after his arrival in Ireland, was an indiscretion,
but of the generous kind, and in both these respects suitable to his
character. He appointed his intimate friend the earl of Southampton,
general of the horse; a nobleman who had incurred the queen's
displeasure by secretly marrying without her consent, and whom she had
therefore enjoined Essex not to employ in any command under him. She no
sooner heard of this instance of disobedience, than she reprimanded him,
and ordered him to recall his commission to Southampton. But Essex, who
had imagined that some reasons which he opposed to her first injunctions
had satisfied her, had the imprudence to remonstrate against these
second orders;[*] and it was not till she reiterated her commands that
he could be prevailed on to displace his friend.

Essex, on his landing at Dublin, deliberated with the Irish council
concerning the proper methods of carrying on the war against the rebels;
and here he was guilty of a capital error, which was the ruin of his
enterprise. He had always, while in England, blamed the conduct of
former commanders, who artfully protracted the war, who harassed
their troops in small enterprises, and who, by agreeing to truces and
temporary pacifications with the rebels, had given them leisure to
recruit their broken forces.[**] In conformity to these views, he had
ever insisted upon leading his forces immediately into Ulster against
Tyrone, the chief enemy; and his instructions had been drawn agreeably
to these his declared resolutions. But the Irish counsellors persuaded
him that the season was too early for the enterprise, and that as the
morasses, in which the northern Irish usually sheltered themselves,
would not as yet be passable to the English forces, it would be better
to employ the present time in an expedition into Munster. Their secret
reason for this advice was, that many of them possessed estates in
that province, and were desirous to have the enemy dislodged from their
neighborhood;[***] but the same selfish spirit which had induced them to
give this counsel, made them soon after disown it, when they found the
bad consequences with which it was attended.[****]

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii p. 421, 451.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 431. Bacon, vol. iv. 512.

*** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 448.

**** Winwood, vol. i. p. 140.

Essex obliged all the rebels of Munster either to submit or to fly into
the neighboring provinces: but as the Irish, from the greatness of the
queen's preparations, had concluded that she intended to reduce them to
total subjection, or even utterly to exterminate them, they considered
their defence as a common cause; and the English forces were no sooner
withdrawn, than the inhabitants of Munster relapsed into rebellion,
and renewed their confederacy with their other countrymen. The army,
meanwhile, by the fatigue of long and tedious marches, and by the
influence of the climate, was become sickly; and on its return to
Dublin, about the middle of July, was surprisingly diminished in number.
The courage of the soldiers was even much abated: for though they had
prevailed in some lesser enterprises against Lord Cahir and others, yet
had they sometimes met with more stout resistance than they expected
from the Irish, whom they were wont to despise; and as they were raw
troops and unexperienced, a considerable body of them had been put to
flight at the Glins by an inferior number of the enemy. Essex was so
enraged at this misbehavior, that he cashiered all the officers, and
decimated the private men.[*] But this act of seventy, though necessary,
had intimidated the soldiers, and increased their aversion to the
service.

The queen was extremely disgusted, when she heard that so considerable a
part of the season was consumed in these frivolous enterprises; and was
still more surprised, that Essex persevered in the same practice which
he had so much condemned in others, and which he knew to be so much
contrary to her purpose and intention. That nobleman, in order to give
his troops leisure to recruit from their sickness and fatigue, left the
main army in quarters, and marched with a small body of fifteen hundred
men into the county of Ophelie against the O'Connors and O'Mores, whom
he forced to a submission: but, on his return to Dublin, he found the
army so much diminished, that he wrote to the English council an account
of its condition, and informed them, that if he did not immediately
receive a reënforcement of two thousand men, it would be impossible for
him this season to attempt any thing against Tyrone. That there might be
no pretence for further inactivity, the queen immediately sent over the
number demanded;[**] and Essex began at last to assemble his forces for
the expedition into Ulster.

* Cox, p. 421.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 430. Cox, p. 421.

The army was so averse to this enterprise, and so terrified with the
reputation of Tyrone, that many of them counterfeited sickness, many
of them deserted;[*] and Essex found, that after leaving the necessary
garrisons, he could scarcely lead four thousand men against the rebels.
He marched, however, with this small army; but was soon sensible, that
in so advanced a season, it would be impossible for him to effect any
thing against an enemy who, though superior in number, was determined to
avoid every decisive action. He hearkened, therefore, to a message sent
him by Tyrone, who desired a conference; and a place near the two camps
was appointed for that purpose. The generals met without any of their
attendants; and a river ran between them, into which Tyrone entered to
the depth of his saddle; but Essex stood on the opposite bank. After
half an hour's conference, where Tyrone behaved with great submission to
the lord lieutenant, a cessation of arms was concluded to the first of
May, renewable from six weeks to six weeks; but which might be broken
off by either party upon a fortnight's warning.[**] Essex also received
from Tyrone proposals for a peace, in which that rebel had inserted many
unreasonable and exorbitant conditions: and there appeared afterwards
some reason to suspect that he had here commenced a very unjustifiable
correspondence with the enemy.[***]

* Sydney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 112, 113.

** Sydney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 125.

*** Winwood, vol. i. p. 307. State Trials. Bacon, vol. iv.
p. 514, 585, 537.

So unexpected an issue of an enterprise, the greatest and most expensive
that Elizabeth had ever undertaken, provoked her extremely against
Essex; and this disgust was much augmented by other circumstances of
that nobleman's conduct. He wrote many letters to the queen and council,
full of peevish and impatient expressions; complaining of his enemies,
lamenting that their calumnies should be believed against him, and
discovering symptoms of a mind equally haughty and discontented. She
took care to inform him of her dissatisfaction: but commanded him to
remain in Ireland till further orders.

Essex heard at once of Elizabeth's anger, and of the promotion of his
enemy, Sir Robert Cecil, to the office of master of the wards, an office
to which he himself aspired: and dreading that, if he remained any
longer absent, the queen would be totally alienated from him, he hastily
embraced a resolution which, he knew, had once succeeded with the
earl of Leicester, the former favorite of Elizabeth. Leicester, being
informed, while in the Low Countries, that his mistress was extremely
displeased with his conduct, disobeyed her orders by coming over to
England; and having pacified her by his presence, by his apologies, and
by his flattery and insinuation, disappointed all the expectations
of his enemies.[*] Essex, therefore, weighing more the similarity of
circumstances than the difference of character between himself and
Leicester, immediately set out for England; and making speedy journeys,
he arrived at court before any one was in the least apprised of his
intentions.[**] Though besmeared with dirt and sweat, he hastened
upstairs to the presence chamber, thence to the privy chamber; nor
stopped till he was in the queen's bed-chamber, who was newly risen, and
was sitting with her hair about her face. He threw himself on his knees,
kissed her hand, and had some private conference with her; where he was
so graciously received, that on his departure he was heard to express
great satisfaction, and to thank God that, though he had suffered much
trouble and many storms abroad, he found a sweet calm at home.[***]

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 453.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 118.

*** Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 127.

But this placability of Elizabeth was merely the result of her surprise,
and of the momentary satisfaction which she felt on the sudden and
unexpected appearance of her favorite: after she had leisure for
recollection, all his faults recurred to her; and she thought it
necessary, by some severe discipline to subdue that haughty, imperious
spirit, who, presuming on her partiality, had pretended to domineer
in her councils, to engross all her favor, and to act, in the most
important affairs, without regard to her orders and instructions. When
Essex waited on her in the afternoon, he found her extremely altered in
her carriage towards him: she ordered him to be confined to his chamber;
to be twice examined by the council; and though his answers were calm
and submissive, she committed him to the custody of Lord Keeper Egerton,
and held him sequestered from all company, even from that of his
countess, nor was so much as the intercourse of letters permitted
between them. Essex dropped many expressions of humiliation and sorrow,
none of resentment: he professed an entire submission to the queen's
will; declared his intention of retiring into the country, and of
leading thenceforth a private life remote from courts and business: but
though he affected to be so entirely cured of his aspiring ambition,
the vexation of this disappointment, and of the triumph gained by his
enemies, preyed upon his haughty spirit, and he fell into a distemper
which seemed to put his life in danger.

The queen had always declared to all the world, and even to the earl
himself, that the purpose of her severity was to correct, not to ruin
him;[*] and when she heard of his sickness, she was not a little alarmed
with his situation. She ordered eight physicians of the best reputation
and experience to consult of his case; and being informed that the issue
was much to be apprehended, she sent Dr. James to him with some broth,
and desired that physician to deliver him a message, which she probably
deemed of still greater virtue, that if she thought such a step
consistent with her honor, she would herself pay him a visit. The
bystanders, who carefully observed her countenance, remarked, that in
pronouncing these words her eyes were suffused with tears.[**]

When these symptoms of the queen's returning affection towards Essex
were known, they gave a sensible alarm to the faction which had declared
their opposition to him. Sir Walter Raleigh in particular, the most
violent as well as the most ambitious of his enemies, was so affected
with the appearance of this sudden revolution, that he was seized with
sickness in his turn; and the queen was obliged to apply the same salve
to his wound, and to send him a favorable message, expressing her desire
of his recovery.[***]

{1600.} The medicine which the queen administered to these aspiring
rivals was successful with both; and Essex, being now allowed the
company of his countess, and having entertained more promising hopes of
his future fortunes, was so much restored in his health as to be thought
past danger. A belief was instilled into Elizabeth, that his distemper
had been entirely counterfeit, in order to move her compassion;[****]
and she relapsed into her former rigor against him. He wrote her a
letter, and sent her a rich present on new-year's day, as was usual
with the courtiers at that time: she read the letter but rejected the
present.[v] After some interval, however, of severity, she allowed him
to retire to his own house; and though he remained still under custody,
and was sequestered from all company, he was so grateful for this mark
of lenity, that he sent her a letter of thanks on the occasion.

* Birch's Memoirs, p. 444, 445. Sidney's Letters, vol. ii.
p. 196.

** Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 151.

*** Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 139.

**** Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 153

v Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 155, 156.

"This further degree of goodness," said he, "doth sound in my ears, as
if your majesty spake these words: 'Die not, Essex; for though I punish
thine offence, and humble thee for thy good yet will I one day be served
again by thee.' My prostrate soul makes this answer: 'I hope for that
blessed day.' And in expectation of it, all my afflictions of body and
mind are humbly, patiently, and cheerfully borne by me."[*] The countess
of Essex, daughter of Sir Francis Walsingham, possessed, as well as her
husband, a refined taste in literature; and the chief consolation which
Essex enjoyed, during this period of anxiety and expectation,
consisted in her company, and in reading with her those instructive
and entertaining authors, which, even during the time of his greatest
prosperity, he had never entirely neglected.

There were several incidents which kept alive the queen's anger against
Essex. Every account which she received from Ireland, convinced her more
and more of his misconduct in that government, and of the insignificant
purposes to which he had employed so much force and treasure. Tyrone, so
far from being quelled, had thought proper, in less than three months,
to break the truce, and joining with O'Donnel and other rebels, had
overrun almost the whole kingdom. He boasted that he was certain of
receiving a supply of men, money, and arms from Spain: he pretended
to be champion of the Catholic religion: and he openly exulted in the
present of a phoenix plume, which the pope, Clement VIII., in order to
encourage him in the prosecution of so good a cause, had consecrated,
and had conferred upon him.[**]

* Birch's Memoirs, p. 444.

** Camden p. 617

The queen, that she might check his progress, returned to her former
intention of appointing Mountjoy lord deputy; and though that nobleman,
who was an intimate friend of Essex, and desired his return to the
government of Ireland, did at first very earnestly excuse himself on
account of his bad state of health, she obliged him to accept of the
employment. Mountjoy found the island almost in a desperate condition;
but being a man of capacity and vigor, he was so little discouraged,
that he immediately advanced against Tyrone in Ulster. He penetrated
into the heart of that country, the chief seat of the rebels; he
fortified Derry and Mount-Norris, in order to bridle the Irish: he
chased them from the field, and obliged them to take shelter in the
woods and morasses: he employed, with equal success, Sir George Carew
in Munster: and by these promising enterprises, he gave new life to the
queen's authority in that island.

As the comparison of Mountjoy's administration with that of Essex
contributed to alienate Elizabeth from her favorite, she received
additional disgust from the partiality of the people, who, prepossessed
with an extravagant idea of Essex's merit, complained of the injustice
done him by his removal from court, and by his confinement. Libels were
secretly dispersed against Cecil and Raleigh and all his enemies: and
his popularity, which was always great, seemed rather to be increased
than diminished by his misfortunes. Elizabeth, in order to justify
to the public her conduct with regard to him, had often expressed her
intentions of having him tried in the star chamber for his offences: but
her tenderness for him prevailed at last over her severity; and she
was contented to have him only examined by the privy council. The
attorney-general, Coke, opened the cause against him, and treated him
with the cruelty and insolence which that great lawyer usually exercised
against the unfortunate. He displayed in the strongest colors all the
faults committed by Essex in his administration of Ireland: his making
Southampton general of the horse, contrary to the queen's injunctions;
his deserting the enterprise against Tyrone, and marching to Leinster
and Munster, his conferring knighthood on too many persons; his secret
conference with Tyrone; and his sudden return from Ireland, in contempt
of her majesty's commands. He also exaggerated the indignity of
the conditions which Tyrone had been allowed to propose; odious and
abominable conditions, said he; a public toleration of an idolatrous
religion, pardon for himself and every traitor in Ireland, and
full restitution of lands and possessions to all of them.[*] The
solicitor-general, Fleming, insisted upon the wretched situation in
which the earl had left that kingdom; and Francis, son of Sir Nicholas
Bacon, who had been lord keeper in the beginning of the present reign,
closed the charge with displaying the undutiful expressions contained in
some letters written by the earl.

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 449.

Essex, when he came to plead in his own defence renounced, with great
submission and humility, all pretensions to an apology;[*] and declared
his resolution never, on this or any other occasion, to have any contest
with his sovereign. He said, that having severed himself from the world,
and abjured all sentiments of ambition, he had no scruple to confess
every failing or error into which his youth, folly, or manifold
infirmities might have betrayed him; that his inward sorrow for his
offences against her majesty was so profound, that it exceeded all his
outward crosses and afflictions, nor had he any scruple of submitting to
a public confession of whatever she had been pleased to impute to him;
that in his acknowledgments he retained only one reserve, which he
never would relinquish but with his life, the assertion of a loyal and
unpolluted heart, of an unfeigned affection, of an earnest desire ever
to perform to her majesty the best service which his pool abilities
would permit; and that, if this sentiment were allowed by the council,
he willingly acquiesced in any condemnation or sentence which they
could pronounce against him. This submission was uttered with so much
eloquence, and in so pathetic a manner, that it drew tears from many of
the audience.[**] All the privy counsellors, in giving their judgment,
made no scruple of doing the earl justice with regard to the loyalty of
his intentions. Even Cecil, whom he believed his capital enemy, treated
him with regard and humanity. And the sentence pronounced by the lord
keeper, (to which the council assented,) was in these words: "If this
cause," said he, "had been heard in the star chamber, my sentence must
have been for as great a fine as ever was set upon any man's head in
that court, together with perpetual confinement in that prison which
belongeth to a man of his quality, the Tower. But since we are now in
another place, and in a course of favor, my censure is, that the earl
of Essex is not to execute the office of a counsellor, nor that of earl
marshal of England, nor of master of the ordnance; and to return to his
own house, there to continue a prisoner till it shall please her majesty
to release this and all the rest of his sentence."[***] The earl of
Cumberland made a slight opposition to this sentence; and said, that if
he thought it would stand, he would have required a little more time
to deliberate; that he deemed it somewhat severe; and that any
commander-in-chief might easily incur a like penalty.

* Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 200.

** Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 200, 201.

*** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 454. Camden, p 626, 627.

"But however," added he, "in confidence of her majesty's mercy, I agree
with the rest." The earl of Worcester delivered his opinion in a couple
of Latin verses; importing, that where the gods are offended, even,
misfortunes ought to be imputed as crimes, and that accident is no
excuse for transgressions against the Divinity.

Bacon, so much distinguished afterwards by his high offices, and still
more by his profound genius for the sciences, was nearly allied to the
Cecil family, being nephew to Lord Burleigh, and cousin-german to the
secretary: but notwithstanding his extraordinary talents, he had met
with so little protection from his powerful relations, that he had not
yet obtained any preferment in the law, which was his profession. But
Essex, who could distinguish merit, and who passionately loved it, had
entered into an intimate friendship with Bacon; had zealously attempted,
though without success, to procure him the office of solicitor-general;
and in order to comfort his friend under the disappointment, had
conferred on him a present of land to the value of eighteen hundred
pounds.[*] The public could ill excuse Bacon's appearance before the
council against so munificent a benefactor; though he acted in obedience
to the queen's commands: but she was so well pleased with his behavior,
that she imposed on him a new task, of drawing a narrative of that day's
proceedings, in order to satisfy the public of the justice and lenity of
her conduct. Bacon, who wanted firmness of character more than humanity,
gave to the whole transaction the most favorable turn for Essex; and, in
particular, painted out, in elaborate expression, the dutiful submission
which that nobleman discovered in the defence that he made for his
conduct. When he read the paper to her, she smiled at that passage,
and observed to Bacon, that old love, she saw, could not easily be
forgotten. He replied, that he hoped she meant that of herself.[**]

All the world, indeed, expected that Essex would soon be reinstated in
his former credit;[***] perhaps, as is usual in reconcilements founded
on inclination, would acquire an additional ascendant over the queen,
and after all his disgraces would again appear more a favorite than
ever.

* Cabala, p. 78.

** Cabala, p. 83.

*** Winwood, vol i. p. 254., Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii p.
462.

They were confirmed in this hope, when they saw that, though he was
still prohibited from appearing at court, he was continued in his office
of master of horse, and was restored to his liberty, and that all his
friends had access to him. Essex himself seemed determined to persevere
in that conduct which had hitherto been so successful, and which the
queen, by all this discipline, had endeavored to render habitual to him:
he wrote to her, that he kissed her majesty's hands, and the rod with
which she had corrected him; but that he could never recover his wonted
cheerfulness, till she deigned to admit him to that presence which had
ever been the chief source of his happiness and enjoyment: and that he
had now resolved to make amends for his past errors, to retire into a
country solitude, and say with Nebucidnezzar, "Let my dwelling be with
the beasts of the field; let me eat grass as an ox, and be wet with
the dew of heaven; till it shall please the queen to restore me to my
understanding." The queen was much pleased with these sentiments; and
replied, that she heartily wished his actions might correspond with his
expressions; that he had tried her patience a long time, and it was but
fitting she should now make some experiment of his submission; that her
father would never have pardoned so much obstinacy; but that, if the
furnace of affliction produced such good effects, she should ever after
have the better opinion of her chemistry.[*]

The earl of Essex possessed a monopoly of sweet wines; and as his patent
was near expiring, he patiently expected that the queen would renew it;
and he considered this event as the critical circumstance of his life,
which would determine whether he could ever hope to be reinstated
in credit and authority.[**] But Elizabeth, though gracious in her
deportment, was of a temper somewhat haughty and severe; and being
continually surrounded with Essex's enemies, means were found to
persuade her, that his lofty spirit was not yet sufficiently subdued,
and that he must undergo this further trial, before he could again be
safely received into favor. She therefore denied his request; and even
added, in a contemptuous style, that an ungovernable beast must be
stinted in his provender.[***]

* Camden, p. 628.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 472.

*** Camden, p. 628.

This rigor, pushed one step too far, proved the final ruin of this young
nobleman, and was the source of infinite sorrow and vexation to the
queen herself. Essex, who had with great difficulty so long subdued his
proud spirit, and whose patience was now exhausted, imagining that
the queen was entirely inexorable, burst at once all restraints of
submission and of prudence, and determined to seek relief by proceeding
to the utmost extremities against his enemies. Even during his greatest
favor, he had ever been accustomed to carry matters with a high hand
towards his sovereign, and as this practice gratified his own temper,
and was sometimes successful, he had imprudently imagined that it was
the only proper method of managing her: [*] but being now reduced to
despair, he gave entire reins to his violent disposition, and threw off
all appearance of duty and respect. Intoxicated with the public favor
which he already possessed, he practised anew every art of popularity;
and endeavored to increase the general good will by a hospitable manner
of life, little suited to his situation and circumstances. His former
employments had given him great connections, with men of the military
profession; and he now entertained, by additional caresses and
civilities, a friendship with all desperate adventurers, whose
attachment, he hoped, might, in his present views, prove serviceable to
him. He secretly courted the confidence of the Catholics; but his chief
trust lay in the Puritans, whom he openly caressed, and whose manners
he seemed to have entirely adopted. He engaged the most celebrated
preachers of that sect to resort to Essex House; he had daily prayers
and sermons in his family; and he invited all the zealots in London to
attend those pious exercises. Such was the disposition now beginning
to prevail among the English, that, instead of feasting and public
spectacles, the methods anciently practised to gain the populace,
nothing so effectually ingratiated an ambitious leader with the public
as these fanatical entertainments. And as the Puritanical preachers
frequently inculcated in their sermons the doctrine of resistance to
the civil magistrate, they prepared the minds of their hearers for those
seditious projects which Essex was secretly meditating.[**]

* Cabala, p. 79.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 463. Camden, p. 630.

But the greatest imprudence of this nobleman proceeded from the
openness of his temper, by which he was ill qualified to succeed in
such difficult, and dangerous enterprises. He indulged himself in great
liberties of speech, and was even heard to say of the queen, that she
was now grown an old woman and was become as crooked in her mind as
in her body.[*] Some court ladies, whose favors Essex had formerly
neglected, carried her these stories, and incensed her to a high degree
against him. Elizabeth was ever remarkably jealous on this head; and
though she was now approaching to her seventieth year, she allowed her
courtiers,[**] and even foreign ambassadors,[***] to compliment her upon
her beauty; nor had all her good sense been able to cure her of this
preposterous vanity.[****] [37]

* Camden, p. 629. Osborne, p. 397. Sir Walter Raleigh's
Prerogative of Parliament, p. 43.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 442, 443.

*** Sidney's Letters, vol. ii. p. 171.

**** See note KK, at the end of the volume.

There was also an expedient employed by Essex, which, if possible,
was more provoking to the queen than those sarcasms on her age and
deformity; and that was, his secret applications to the king of Scots,
her heir and successor. That prince had this year very narrowly escaped
a dangerous, though ill-formed conspiracy of the earl of Gowry; and even
his deliverance was attended with this disagreeable circumstance,
that the obstinate ecclesiastics persisted, in spite of the most
incontestable evidence, to maintain to his face, that there had been
no such conspiracy. James, harassed with his turbulent and factious
subjects, cast a wishful eye to the succession of England; and in
proportion as the queen advanced in years, his desire increased of
mounting that throne, on which, besides acquiring a great addition of
power and splendor, he hoped to govern a people so much more tractable
and submissive. He negotiated with all the courts of Europe, in order to
insure himself friends and partisans: he even neglected not the court
of Rome and that of Spain; and though he engaged himself in no positive
promise, he flattered the Catholics with hopes that, in the event of
his succession, they might expect some more liberty than was at present
indulged them. Elizabeth was the only sovereign in Europe to whom he
never dared to mention his right of succession: he knew that, though
her advanced age might now invite her to think of fixing an heir to
the crown, she never could bear the prospect of her own death
without horror, and was determined still to retain him, and all other
competitors, in an entire dependence upon her.

Essex was descended by females from the royal family and some of his
sanguine partisans had been so imprudent as to mention his name among
those of other pretenders to the crown; but the earl took care, by means
of Henry Lee, whom he secretly sent into Scotland, to assure James, that
so far from entertaining such ambitious views, he was determined to use
every expedient for extorting an immediate declaration in favor of
that monarch's right of succession. James willingly hearkened to
this proposal, but did not approve of the violent methods which Essex
intended to employ. Essex had communicated his scheme to Mountjoy,
deputy of Ireland; and as no man ever commanded more the cordial
affection and attachment of his friends, he had even engaged a person of
that virtue and prudence to entertain thoughts of bringing over part of
his army into England, and of forcing the queen to declare the king
of Scots her successor.[*] And such was Essex's impatient ardor, that,
though James declined this dangerous expedient, he still endeavored to
persuade Mountjoy not to desist from the project; but the deputy,
who thought that such violence, though it might be prudent, and even
justifiable, when supported by a sovereign prince, next heir to the
crown, would be rash and criminal if attempted by subjects, absolutely
refused his concurrence. The correspondence, however, between Essex
and the court of Scotland was still conducted with great secrecy and
cordiality; and that nobleman, besides conciliating the favor of
James, represented all his own adversaries as enemies to that prince's
succession, and as men entirely devoted to the interests of Spain, and
partisans of the chimerical title of the infanta.

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 471.

The infanta and the archduke Albert had made some advances to the queen
for peace; and Boulogne, as a neutral town, was chosen for the place of
conference. Sir Henry Nevil, the English resident in France, Herbert,
Edmondes, and Beale, were sent thither as ambassadors from England; and
negotiated with Zuniga, Carillo, Richetrdot, and Verheiken, ministers
of Spain and the archduke: but the conferences were soon broken off,
by disputes with regard to the ceremonial. Among the European states,
England had ever been allowed the precedency above Castile, Arragon,
Portugal, and the other kingdoms of which the Spanish monarchy was
composed; and Elizabeth insisted, that this ancient right was not lost
on account of the junction of these states, and that that monarchy in
its present situation, though it surpassed the English in extent as well
as in power, could not be compared with it in point of antiquity, the
only durable and regular foundation of precedency among kingdoms as well
as noble families. That she might show, however, a pacific disposition,
she was content to yield to an equality; but the Spanish ministers, as
their nation had always disputed precedency even with France, to which
England yielded, would proceed no further in the conference till their
superiority of rank were acknowledged.[*] During the preparations for
this abortive negotiation, the earl of Nottingham, the admiral,
Lord Buckhurst, treasurer, and Secretary Cecil, had discovered their
inclination to peace, but as the English nation, flushed with success,
and sanguine in their hopes of plunder and conquest, were in general
averse to that measure, it was easy for a person so popular as Essex
to infuse into the multitude an opinion, that these ministers had
sacrificed the interests of their country to Spain, and would even make
no scruple of receiving a sovereign from that hostile nation.

* Winwood's Memorials, vol. i. p. 186--226.

{1601.} But Essex, not content with these arts for decrying his
adversaries, proceeded to concert more violent methods of ruining them;
chiefly instigated by Cuffe, his secretary, a man of a bold and arrogant
spirit, who had acquired a great ascendant over his patron. A select
council of malecontents was formed, who commonly met at Drury House,
and were composed of Sir Charles Davers, to whom the house belonged, the
earl of Southampton, Sir Ferdinando Gorges, Sir Christopher Blount, Sir
John Davies, and John Littleton; and Essex, who boasted that he had
a hundred and twenty barons, knights, and gentlemen of note at his
devotion, and who trusted still more to his authority with the populace,
communicated to his associates those secret designs with which his
confidence in so powerful a party had inspired him. Among other criminal
projects, the result of blind rage and despair, he deliberated with them
concerning the method of taking arms; and asked their opinion, whether
he had best begin with seizing the palace or the Tower, or set out with
making himself master at once of both places. The first enterprise being
preferred, a method was concerted for executing it. It was agreed, that
Sir Christopher Blount, with a choice detachment, should possess himself
of the palace gates; that Davies should seize the hall, Davers the guard
chamber and presence chamber; and that Essex should rush in from the
Meuse, attended by a body of his partisans; should entreat the queen,
with all demonstrations of humility, to remove his enemies; should
oblige her to assemble a parliament; and should, with common consent,
settle a new plan of government.[*]

* Camden, p. 630. Birch's Memoirs vol. ii. p. 464. State
Trials Bacon, vol. iv. p. 542, 543.

While these desperate projects were in agitation, many reasons of
suspicion were carried to the queen; and she sent Robert Sacville,
son of the treasurer, to Essex House, on pretence of a visit, but, in
reality, with a view of discovering whether there were in that place
any unusual concourse of people, or any extraordinary preparations which
might threaten an insurrection. Soon after, Essex received a summons to
attend the council, which met at the treasurer's house; and while he was
musing on this circumstance, and comparing it with the late unexpected
visit from Sacville, a private note was conveyed to him, by which he
was warned to provide for his own safety. He concluded, that all his
conspiracy was discovered, at least suspected; and that the easiest
punishment which he had reason to apprehend, was a new and more severe
confinement: he therefore excused himself to the council on pretence
of an indisposition; and he immediately despatched messages to his more
intimate confederates, requesting their advice and assistance in the
present critical situation of his affairs. They deliberated, whether
they should abandon all their projects, and fly the kingdom; or
instantly seize the palace with the force which they could assemble; or
rely upon the affections of the citizens, who were generally known to
have a great attachment to the earl. Essex declared against the first
expedient, and professed himself determined to undergo any fate rather
than submit to live the life of a fugitive. To seize the palace seemed
impracticable without more preparations; especially as the queen seemed
now aware of their projects, and, as they heard, had used the precaution
of doubling her ordinary guards. There remained, therefore, no expedient
but that of betaking themselves to the city; and while the prudence and
feasibility of this resolution was under debate, a person arrived, who,
as if he had received a commission for the purpose, gave them assurance
of the affections of the Londoners, and affirmed that they might
securely rest any project on that foundation. The popularity of Essex
had chiefly buoyed him up in all his vain undertakings; and he fondly
imagined, that, with no other assistance than the good will of the
multitude, he might overturn Elizabeth's government, confirmed by time,
revered for wisdom, supported by vigor, and concurring with the general
sentiments of the nation. The wild project of raising the city was
immediately resolved on; the execution of it was decayed till next day;
and emissaries were despatched to all Essex's friends, informing
them that Cobham and Raleigh had laid schemes against his life, and
entreating their presence and assistance.

Next day, there appeared at Essex House the earls of Southampton and
Rutland, the lords Sandys and Monteagle, with about three hundred
gentlemen of good quality and fortune; and Essex informed them of the
danger to which, he pretended, the machinations of his enemies exposed
him. To some, he said that he would throw himself at the queen's feet,
and crave her justice and protection; to others, he boasted of his
interest in the city, and affirmed that, whatever might happen, this
resource could never fail him. The queen was informed of these designs,
by means of intelligence conveyed, as is supposed, to Raleigh by Sir
Ferdinando Gorges; and having ordered the magistrates of London to
keep the citizens in readiness, she sent Egerton, lord keeper; to Essex
House, with the earl of Worcester, Sir William Knollys, comptroller,
and Popham, chief justice, in order to learn the cause of these unusual
commotions. They were with difficulty admitted through a wicket; but
all their servants were excluded, except the purse-bearer. After
some altercation, in which they charged Essex's retainers, upon their
allegiance, to lay down, their arms, and were menaced in their turn
by the angry multitude who surrounded them, the earl, who found that
matters were past recall, resolved to leave them prisoners in his house,
and to proceed to the execution of his former project. He sallied forth
with about two hundred attendants, armed only with walking swords; and
in his passage to the city was joined by the earl of Bedford and Lord
Cromwell He cried aloud, "For the queen! for the queen! a plot is laid
for my life;" and then proceeded to the house of Smith the sheriff,
on whose aid he had great reliance. The citizens flocked about him in
amazement; but though he told them that England was sold to the infanta,
and exhorted them to arms instantly otherwise they could not do him any
service, no one showed a disposition to join him. The sheriff, on the
earl's approach to his house, stole out at the back door, and made the
best of his way to the mayor. Essex, meanwhile, observing the coldness
of the citizens, and hearing that he was proclaimed a traitor by the
earl of Cumberland and Lord Burleigh, began to despair of success, and
thought of retreating to his own house. He found the streets in his
passage barricaded and guarded by the citizens under the command of Sir
John Levison. In his attempt to force his way, Tracy, a young gentleman
to whom he bore great friendship, was killed, with two or three of the
Londoners; and the earl himself, attended by a few of his partisans,
(for the greater part began secretly to withdraw themselves,) retired
towards the river, and taking boat, arrived at Essex House. He there
found that Gorges, whom he had sent before to capitulate with the lord
keeper and the other counsellors, had given all of them their liberty,
and had gone to court with them. He was now reduced to despair; and
appeared determined, in prosecution of Lord Sandy's advice, to defend
himself to the last extremity, and rather to perish like a brave man,
with his sword in his hand, than basely by the hands of the executioner:
but after some parley, and after demanding in vain, first hostages, then
conditions, from the besiegers, he surrendered at discretion; requesting
only civil treatment, and a fair and impartial hearing.[*]

The queen, who, during all this commotion, had behaved with as great
tranquillity and security as if there had only passed a fray in the
streets, in which she was nowise concerned,[**] soon gave orders for the
trial of the most considerable of the criminals.

* Camden p. 632.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 469

The earls of Essex and Southampton were arraigned before a jury of
twenty-five peers, where Buckhurst acted as lord steward. The guilt of
the prisoners was too apparent to admit of any doubt; and, besides the
insurrection known to every body, the treasonable conferences at Drury
House were proved by undoubted evidence. Sir Ferdinando Gorges was
produced in court: the confessions of the earl of Rutland, of the lords
Cromwell, Sandys, and Monteagle, of Davers, Blount, and Davies, were
only read to the peers, according to the practice of that age.
Essex's best friends were scandalized at his assurance in insisting so
positively on his innocence, and the goodness of his intentions, and
still more at his vindictive disposition, in accusing, without any
appearance of reason, Secretary Cecil as a partisan of the infanta's
title. The secretary, who had expected this charge, stepped into
the court, and challenged Essex to produce his authority, which, on
examination, was found extremely weak and frivolous.[*]

* Bacon, vol. iv. p. 530.

When sentence was pronounced, Essex spoke like a man who expected
nothing but death; but he added, that he should be sorry if he were
represented to the queen as a person that despised her clemency; though
he should not, he believed, make any cringing submissions to obtain it.
Southampton's behavior was more mild and submissive; he entreated the
good offices of the peers in so modest and becoming a manner, as excited
compassion in every one.

The most remarkable circumstance in Essex's trial was Bacon's appearance
against him. He was none of the crown lawyers; so was not obliged by
his office to assist at this trial: yet did he not scruple, in order to
obtain the queen's favor, to be active in bereaving of life his friend
and patron, whose generosity he had often experienced. He compared
Essex's conduct, in pretending to fear the attempts of his adversaries,
to that of Pisistratus the Athenian, who cut and wounded his own body,
and, making the people believe that his enemies had committed the
violence, obtained a guard for his person, by whose assistance he
afterwards subdued the liberties of his country.

After Essex had passed some days in the solitude and reflections of a
prison, his proud heart was at last subdued, not by the fear of death,
but by the sentiments of religion; a principle which he had before
attempted to make the instrument of his ambition, but which now took a
more firm hold of his mind, and prevailed over every other motive and
consideration. His spiritual directors persuaded him, that he never
could obtain the pardon of Heaven, unless he made a full confession
of his disloyalty; and he gave in to the council an account of all
his criminal design, as well as of his correspondence with the king
of Scots. He spared not even his most intimate friends, such as Lord
Mountjoy, whom he had engaged in these conspiracies; and he sought to
pacify his present remorse by making such atonements as, in any other
period of his life, he would have deemed more blamable than those
attempts themselves which were the objects of his penitence.[*]
Sir Henry Nevil, in particular, a man of merit, he accused of a
correspondence with the conspirators though it appears that this
gentleman had never assented to the proposals made him, and was no
further criminal than in not revealing the earl's treason; an office to
which every man of honor naturally bears the strongest reluctance.[**]
Nevil was thrown into prison, and underwent a severe persecution but as
the queen found Mountjoy an able and successful commander, she continued
him in his government, and sacrificed her resentment to the public
service.

Elizabeth affected extremely the praise of clemency; and in every great
example which she had made during her reign, she had always appeared
full of reluctance and hesitation: but the present situation of Essex
called forth all her tender affections, and kept her in the most
real agitation and irresolution. She felt a perpetual combat between
resentment and inclination, pride and compassion, the care of her own
safety and concern for her favorite; and her situation, during this
interval, was perhaps more an object of pity than that to which Essex
himself was reduced. She signed the warrant for his execution; she
countermanded it; she again resolved on his death; she felt a new return
of tenderness. Essex's enemies told her, that he himself desired to die,
and had assured her, that she could never be in safety while he lived:
it is likely that this proof of penitence and of concern for her would
produce a contrary effect to what they intended, and would revive all
the fond affection which she had so long indulged towards the unhappy
prisoner. But what chiefly hardened her heart against him was his
supposed obstinacy, in never making, as she hourly expected, any
application to her for mercy; and she finally gave her consent to his
execution. He discovered at his death symptoms rather of penitence
and piety than of fear; and willingly acknowledged the justice of the
sentence by which he suffered. The execution was private in the Tower,
agreeably to his own request. He was apprehensive, he said, lest the
favor and compassion of the people would too much raise his heart in
those moments, when humiliation under the afflicting hand of Heaven was
the only proper sentiment which he could indulge.[***] And the queen no
doubt, thought that prudence required the removing of so melancholy a
spectacle from the public eye.

* Winwood, vol. i. p. 300.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 302.

*** Dr. Barlow's Sermon on Essex's Execution. Bacon, vol.
iv. p. 534

Sir Walter Raleigh, who came to the Tower on purpose, and who beheld
Essex's execution from a window, increased much by this action the
general hatred under which he already labored: it was thought, that his
sole intention was to feast his eyes with the death of an enemy; and
no apology which he could make for so ungenerous a conduct could be
accepted by the public. The cruelty and animosity with which he urged
on Essex's fate, even when Cecil relented,[*] were still regarded as the
principles of this unmanly behavior.

* Murdin, p. 811.

The earl of Essex was but thirty-four years of age, when his rashness,
imprudence, and violence brought him to this untimely end. We must here,
as in many other instances, lament the inconstancy of human nature,
that a person endowed with so many noble virtues--generosity, sincerity,
friendship, valor, eloquence, and industry--should, in the latter
period of his life, have given reins to his ungovernable passions, and
involved, not only himself, but many of his friends, in utter ruin. The
queen's tenderness and passion for him, as it was the cause of those
premature honors which he attained, seems, on the whole, the chief
circumstance which brought on his unhappy fate. Confident of her
partiality towards him, as well as of his own merit, he treated her with
a haughtiness which neither her love nor her dignity could bear; and as
her amorous inclinations, in so advanced an age, would naturally make
her appear ridiculous, if not odious, in his eyes, he was engaged, by an
imprudent openness, of which he made profession, to discover too
easily those sentiments to her. The many reconciliations and returns of
affection, of which he had still made advantage, induced him to venture
on new provocations, till he pushed her beyond all bounds of patience;
and he forgot, that though the sentiments of the woman were ever
strong in her, those of the sovereign had still in the end appeared
predominant.

Some of Essex's associates, Cuffe, Davers, Blount, Meric, and Davies,
were tried and condemned, and all of these except Davies, were
executed. The queen pardoned the rest; being persuaded that they were
drawn in merely from their friendship to that nobleman, and their
care of his safety, and were ignorant of the more criminal part of his
intentions.

Southampton's life was saved with great difficulty; but he was detained
in prison during the remainder of this reign.

The king of Scots, apprehensive lest his correspondence with Essex might
have been discovered, and have given offence to Elizabeth sent the
earl of Marre and Lord Kinloss as ambassadors to England, in order to
congratulate the queen on her escape from the late insurrection and
conspiracy. They were also ordered to make secret inquiry, whether any
measures had been taken by her for excluding him from the succession,
as well as to discover the inclinations of the chief nobility
and counsellors, in case of the queen's demise.[*] They found the
dispositions of men as favorable as they could wish; and they even
entered into a correspondence with Secretary Cecil, whose influence,
after the fall of Essex, was now uncontrolled,[**] and who was resolved,
by this policy, to acquire in time the confidence of the successor. He
knew how jealous Elizabeth ever was of her authority, and he therefore
carefully concealed from her his attachment to James: but he afterwards
asserted, that nothing could be more advantageous to her than this
correspondence; because the king of Scots, secure of mounting the throne
by his undoubted title, aided by those connections with the English
ministry was the less likely to give any disturbance to the present
sovereign. He also persuaded that prince to remain in quiet, and
patiently to expect that time should open to him the inheritance of the
crown, without pushing his friends on desperate enterprises, which would
totally incapacitate them from serving him. James's equity, as well as
his natural facility of disposition, easily inclined him to embrace
that resolution;[***] and in this manner the minds of the English were
silently but universally disposed to admit, without opposition, the
succession of the Scottish line: the death of Essex, by putting an end
to faction, had been rather favorable than prejudicial to that great
event.

The French king, who was little prepossessed in favor of James, and
who, for obvious reasons, was averse to the union of England and
Scotland,[****] made his ambassador drop some hints to Cecil of Henry's
willingness to concur in any measure for disappointing the hopes of the
Scottish monarch; but as Cecil showed an entire disapprobation of such
schemes.

* Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 510.

** Osborne, p. 615.

*** Spotswood, p. 471, 472

**** Winwood, vol. i. p. 352

The court of France took no further steps in that matter; and thus
the only foreign power which could give much disturbance to James's
succession, was induced to acquiesce in it.[*]

* Spotswood, p. 471

Henry made a journey this summer to Calais; and the queen, hearing of
his intentions, went to Dover, in hopes of having a personal interview
with a monarch, whom, of all others, she most loved and most respected.
The king of France, who felt the same sentiments towards her, would
gladly have accepted of the proposal; but as many difficulties occurred,
it appeared necessary to lay aside, by common consent, the project of an
interview. Elizabeth, however, wrote successively two letters to Henry,
one by Edmondes, another by Sir Robert Sidney; in which she expressed a
desire of conferring about a business of importance, with some minister
in whom that prince reposed entire confidence. The marquis of Rosni the
king's favorite and prime minister, came to Dover in disguise; and the
memoirs of that able statesman contain a full account of his conference
with Elizabeth. This princess had formed a scheme for establishing, in
conjunction with Henry, a new system in Europe, and of fixing a durable
balance of power, by the erection of new states on the ruins of the
house of Austria. She had even the prudence to foresee the perils which
might ensue from the aggrandizement of her ally; and she purposed to
unite all the seventeen provinces of the Low Countries in one republic,
in order to form a perpetual barrier against the dangerous increase of
the French as well as of the Spanish monarchy. Henry had himself long
meditated such a project against the Austrian family; and Rosni could
not forbear expressing his astonishment, when he found that Elizabeth
and his master, though they had never communicated their sentiments on
this subject, not only had entered into the same general views, but had
also formed the same plan for their execution. The affairs, however, of
France were not yet brought to a situation which might enable Henry to
begin that great enterprise; and Rosni satisfied the queen that it would
be necessary to postpone for some years their united attack on the house
of Austria. He departed, filled with just admiration at the solidity of
Elizabeth's judgment, and the greatness of her mind; and he owns, that
she was entirely worthy of that high reputation which she enjoyed in
Europe.

The queen's magnanimity in forming such extensive projects was the more
remarkable, as, besides her having fallen so far into the decline
of life, the affairs of Ireland, though conducted with abilities and
success, were still in disorder, and made a great diversion of her
forces. The expense incurred by this war lay heavy upon her narrow
revenues; and her ministers, taking advantage of her disposition to
frugality, proposed to her an expedient of saving, which, though she
at first disapproved of it, she was at last induced to embrace. It was
represented to her, that the great sums of money remitted to Ireland
for the pay of the English forces, came, by the necessary course of
circulation, into the hands of the rebels, and enabled them to buy
abroad all necessary supplies of arms and ammunition, which, from the
extreme poverty of that kingdom and its want of every useful commodity,
they could not otherwise find means to purchase. It was therefore
recommended to her, that she should pay her forces in base money; and it
was asserted that, besides the great saving to the revenue, this species
of coin could never be exported with advantage, and would not pass in
any foreign market. Some of her wiser counsellors maintained, that if
the pay of the soldiers were raised in proportion, the Irish rebels
would necessarily reap the same benefit from the base money, which would
always be taken at a rate suitable to its value; if the pay were
not raised, there would be danger of a mutiny among the troops, who,
whatever names might be affixed to the pieces of metal, would soon
find from experience that they were defrauded in their income.[*] But
Elizabeth, though she justly valued herself on fixing the standard of
the English coin, much debased by her predecessors, and had innovated
very little in that delicate article, was seduced by the specious
arguments employed by the treasurer on this occasion; and she coined
a great quantity of base money, which he made use of in the pay of her
forces in Ireland.[**]

* Camden, p. 643

** Rymer, tom, xvi. p. 414.

Mountjoy, the deputy, was a man of abilities; and foreseeing the danger
of mutiny among the troops, he led them instantly into the field, and
resolved, by means of strict discipline, and by keeping them employed
against the enemy, to obviate those inconveniencies which were justly to
be apprehended. He made military roads, and built a fortress at Moghery;
he drove the Mac-Genises out of Lecale; he harassed Tyrone in Ulster
with inroads and lesser expeditions; and by destroying every where,
and during all seasons, the provisions of the Irish, he reduced them to
perish by famine in the woods and morasses, to which they were obliged
to retreat. At the same time, Sir Henry Docwray, who commanded another
body of troops, took the Castle of Derry, and put garrisons into
Newton and Ainogh; and having seized the monastery of Donnegal, near
Balishannon, he threw troops into it, and defended it against the
assaults of O'Donnel and the Irish. Nor was Sir George Carew idle in the
province of Munster. He seized the titular earl of Desmond, and sent him
over, with Florence Macarty, another chieftain, prisoner to England.
He arrested many suspected persons, and took hostages from others. And
having got a reënforcement of two thousand men from England, he threw
himself into Corke, which he supplied with arms and provisions; and he
put every thing in a condition for resisting the Spanish invasion, which
was daily expected. The deputy, informed of the danger to which the
southern provinces were exposed, left the prosecution of the war against
Tyrone, who was reduced to great extremities; and he marched with his
army into Munster.

At last the Spaniards, under Don John d'Aquila, arrived at Kinsale; and
Sir Richard Piercy, who commanded in the town with a small garrison of
a hundred and fifty men, found himself obliged to abandon it on their
appearance. These invaders amounted to four thousand men, and the Irish
discovered a strong propensity to join them, in order to free
themselves from the English government, with which they were extremely
discontented. One chief ground of their complaint, was the introduction
of trials by jury;[*] an institution abhorred by that people, though
nothing contributes more to the support of that equity and liberty for
which the English laws are so justly celebrated.

* Camden, p 644.

The Irish, also, bore a great favor to the Spaniards, having entertained
the opinion that they themselves were descended from that nation;
and their attachment to the Catholic religion proved a new cause of
affection to the invaders. D'Aquila assumed the title of general "in
the holy war for the preservation of the faith" in Ireland; and he
endeavored to persuade the people that Elizabeth was, by several bulls
of the pope, deprived of her crown; that her subjects were absolved from
their oaths of allegiance; and that the Spaniards were come to deliver
the Irish from the dominion of the devil.[*] Mountjoy found it necessary
to act with vigor, in order to prevent a total insurrection of the
Irish; and having collected his forces, he formed the siege of Kinsale
by land, while Sir Richard Levison, with a small squadron, blockaded
it by sea. He had no sooner begun his operations than he heard of the
arrival of another body of two thousand Spaniards under the command of
Alphonso Ocampo, who had taken possession of Baltimore and Berehaven;
and he was obliged to detach Sir George Carew to oppose their progress.
Tyrone, meanwhile, with Randal, Mac-Surley, Tirel, baron of Kelley, and
other chieftains of the Irish, had joined Ocampo with all their forces,
and were marching to the relief of Kinsale. The deputy, informed of
their design by intercepted letters, made preparations to receive them;
and being reenforced by Levison with six hundred marines, he posted his
troops on an advantageous ground, which lay on the passage of the enemy,
leaving some cavalry to prevent a sally from D'Aquila and the Spanish
garrison. When Tyrone, with a detachment of Irish and Spaniards,
approached, he was surprised to find the English so well posted, and
ranged in good order, and he immediately sounded a retreat: but the
deputy gave orders to pursue him; and having thrown these advanced
troops into disorder, he followed them to the main body, whom he
also attacked and put to flight, with the slaughter of twelve hundred
men.[**] Ocampo was taken prisoner; Tyrone fled into Ulster; O'Donnel
made his escape into Spain; and D'Aquila, finding himself reduced to the
greatest difficulties, was obliged to capitulate upon such terms as
the deputy prescribed to him; he surrendered Kinsale and Baltimore,
and agreed to evacuate the kingdom. This great blow, joined to other
successes gained by Wlimot, governor of Kerry, and by Roger and Gavin
Harvey, threw the rebels into dismay, and gave a prospect of the final
reduction of Ireland.

The Irish war, though successful, was extremely burdensome on the
queen's revenue; and besides the supplies granted by parliament,
which were indeed very small, but which they ever regarded as mighty
concessions, she had been obliged, notwithstanding her great frugality,
to employ other expedients, such as selling the royal demesnes and
crown jewels,[***] and exacting loans from the people,[****] in order
to support this cause, so essential to the honor and interests of
England.

* Camden, p. 645.

** Winwood, vol. i. p. 369.

*** D'Ewes, p. 629.

**** D'Ewes, p. 629.

The necessity of her affairs obliged her again to summon a parliament;
and it here appeared, that though old age was advancing fast upon her,
though she had lost much of her popularity by the unfortunate execution
of Essex, insomuch that when she appeared in public she was not attended
with the usual acclamations,[*] yet the powers of her prerogative,
supported by her vigor, still remained as high and uncontrollable as
ever.

The active reign of Elizabeth had enabled many persons to distinguish
themselves in civil and military employments; and the queen, who was
not able from her revenue to give them any rewards proportioned to their
services, had made use of an expedient which had been employed by her
predecessors, but which had never been carried to such an extreme as
under her administration. She granted her servants and courtiers patents
for monopolies; and these patents they sold to others, who were thereby
enabled to raise commodities to what price they pleased, and who put
invincible restraints upon all commerce, industry, and emulation in the
arts. It is astonishing to consider the number and importance of those
commodities which were thus assigned over to patentees. Currants, salt,
iron, powder, cards, calf-skins, fells, pouldavies, ox-shin-bones, train
oil, lists of cloth, potashes, aniseseeds, vinegar, seacoals, steel,
aquavitæ, brushes, pots, bottles, saltpetre, lead, accidences, oil,
calamine stone, oil of blubber, glasses, paper, starch, tin, sulphur,
new drapery, dried pilchards, transportation of iron ordnance, of beer,
of horn, of leather, importation of Spanish wool, of Irish yarn:
these are but a part of the commodities which had been appropriated to
monopolists.[**] When this list was read in the house, a member cried,
"Is not bread in the number?" "Bread," said every one with astonishment.
"Yes, I assure you," replied he, "if affairs go on at this rate, we
shall have bread reduced to a monopoly before next parliament." [***]
These monopolists were so exorbitant in their demands, that in some
places they raised the price of salt from sixteen pence a bushel, to
fourteen or fifteen shillings.[****]

* D'Ewes, p 629. Osborne, p. 604.

** D'Ewes, p 648, 650, 652.

*** D'Ewes, p. 648.

**** D'Ewes, p. 647.

Such high profits naturally begat intruders upon their commerce; and
in order to secure themselves against encroachments, the patentees were
armed with high and arbitrary powers from the council, by which they
were enabled to oppress the people at pleasure, and to exact money
from such as they thought proper to accuse of interfering with their
patent.[*] The patentees of saltpetre, having the power of entering
into every house, and of committing what havoc they pleased in stables,
cellars, or wherever they suspected saltpetre might be gathered,
commonly extorted money from those who desired to free themselves from
this damage or trouble.[**] And while all domestic intercourse was thus
restrained, lest any scope should remain for industry, almost every
species of foreign commerce was confined to exclusive companies, who
bought and sold at any price that they themselves thought proper to
offer or exact.

These grievances, the most intolerable for the present, and the most
pernicious in their consequences, that ever were known in any age or
under any government, had been mentioned in the last parliament, and
a petition had even been presented to the queen, complaining of the
patents; but she still persisted in defending her monopolists against
her people. A bill was now introduced into the lower house, abolishing
all these monopolies; and as the former application had been
unsuccessful, a law was insisted on as the only certain expedient for
correcting these abuses. The courtiers, on the other hand, maintained,
that this matter regarded the prerogative, and that the commons could
never hope for success, if they did not make application, in the most
humble and respectful manner, to the queen's goodness and beneficence.
The topics which were advanced in the house, and which came equally from
the courtiers and the country gentlemen, and were admitted by both, will
appear the most extraordinary to such as are prepossessed with an idea
of the privileges enjoyed by the people during that age, and of the
liberty possessed under the administration of Elizabeth. It was asserted
that the queen inherited both an enlarging and a restraining power; by
her prerogative she might set at liberty what was restrained by statute
or otherwise, and by her prerogative she might restrain what was
otherwise at liberty:[***] that the royal prerogative was not to be
canvassed, nor disputed, nor examined;[****] and did not even admit of
any limitation.[v]

* D'Ewes, p. 644, 646, 652.

** D'Ewes, p. 653.

*** D'Ewes, p. 644, 675.

**** D'Ewes, p. 644, 649.

v D'Ewes, p. 646. 654.

That absolute princes, such as the sovereigns of England, were a species
of divinity;[*] that it was in vain to attempt tying the queen's hands
by laws or statutes; since, by means of her dispensing power, she could
loosen herself at pleasure:[**] and that even if a clause should be
annexed to a statute, excluding her dispensing power, she could first
dispense with that clause and then with the statute.[***] After all this
discourse, more worthy of a Turkish divan than of an English house of
commons, according to our present idea of this assembly, the queen, who
perceived how odious monopolies had become, and what heats were likely
to arise, sent for the speaker, and desired him to acquaint the house,
that she would immediately cancel the most grievous and oppressive of
these patents.[****] [38]

The house was struck with astonishment, and admiration and gratitude, at
this extraordinary instance of the queen's goodness and condescension.
A member said, with tears in his eyes, that if a sentence of everlasting
happiness had been pronounced in his favor, he could not have felt more
joy than that with which he was at present over whelmed.[v] Another
observed, that this message from the sacred person of the queen was a
kind of gospel or glad tidings, and ought to be received as such, and be
written in the tablets of their hearts.[v*] And it was further remarked,
that in the same manner as the Deity would not give his glory to
another, so the queen herself was the only agent in their present
prosperity and happiness.[v**] The house voted, that the speaker, with
a committee, should ask permission to wait on her majesty, and return
thanks to her for her gracious concessions to her people.

When the speaker, with the other members, was introduced to the queen,
they all flung themselves on their knees, and remained in that posture
a considerable time, till she thought proper to express her desire that
they should rise.[v***]

* D'Ewes, p. 649.

** D'Ewes, p. 649.

*** D'Ewes, p. 640, 646.

**** See note LL, at the end of the volume.

v D'Ewes, p. 654.

v* D'Ewes, p. 656.

v** D'Ewes, p. 657.

v*** We learn from Hentzner's Travels, that no one spoke to
Queen Elizabeth without kneeling; though now and then she
raised some with waving her hand. Nay, wherever she turned
her eye, every one fell on his knees. Her successor first
allowed his courtiers to omit this ceremony; and as he
exerted not the power, so he relinquished the appearance of
despotism. Even when Queen Elizabeth was absent, those who
covered her table, though persons of quality, neither
approached it nor retired from it without kneeling, and that
often three times.

The speaker displayed the gratitude of the commons, because her sacred
ears were ever open to hear them, and her blessed hands ever stretched
out to relieve them. They acknowledged, he said, in all duty and
thankfulness acknowledged, that, before they called, her "preventing
grace" and "all-deserving goodness" watched over them for their good;
more ready to give than they could desire, much less deserve. He
remarked, that the attribute which was most proper to God, to perform
all he promiseth, appertained also to her; and that she was all
truth, all constancy, and all goodness. And he concluded with these
expressions: "Neither do we present our thanks in words or any outward
sign, which can be no sufficient retribution for so great goodness; but
in all duty and thankfulness, prostrate at your feet, we present our
most loyal and thankful hearts, even the last drop of blood in our
hearts, and the last spirit of breath in our nostrils, to be poured out,
to be breathed up, for your safety." [*]

* D'Ewes, p. 658, 659.

The queen heard very patiently this speech, in which she was flattered
in phrases appropriated to the Supreme Being; and she returned an answer
full of such expressions of tenderness towards her people, as ought to
have appeared fulsome after the late instances of rigor which she had
employed, and from which nothing but necessity had made her depart. Thus
was this critical affair happily terminated; and Elizabeth, by prudently
receding, in time, from part of her prerogative, maintained her dignity,
and preserved the affections of her people.

The commons granted her a supply quite unprecedented, of four subsidies
and eight fifteenths; and they were so dutiful as to vote this supply
before they received any satisfaction in the business of monopolies,
which they justly considered as of the utmost importance to the
interest and happiness of the nation. Had they attempted to extort that
concession by keeping the supply in suspense, so haughty was the queen's
disposition, that this appearance of constraint and jealousy had been
sufficient to have produced a denial of all their requests, and to have
forced her into some acts of authority still more violent and arbitrary.

{1602.} The remaining events of this reign are neither numerous nor
important. The queen, finding that the Spaniards had involved her in so
much trouble, by fomenting and assisting the Irish rebellion, resolved
to give them employment at home; and she fitted out a squadron of nine
ships, under Sir Richard Levison, admiral, and Sir William Monson,
vice-admiral, whom she sent on an expedition to the coast of Spain.
The admiral, with part of the squadron, met the galleons loaded with
treasure; but was not strong enough to attack them. The vice-admiral
also fell in with some rich ships, but they escaped for a like reason;
and these two brave officers, that their expedition might not prove
entirely fruitless, resolved to attack the harbor of Cerimbra, in
Portugal; where, they received intelligence, a very rich carrack had
taken shelter. The harbor was guarded by a castle: there were eleven
galleys stationed in it; and the militia of the country, to the number,
as was believed, of twenty thousand men, appeared in arms on the shore:
yet, notwithstanding these obstacles, and others derived from the winds
and tides, the English squadron broke into the harbor, dismounted the
guns of the castle, sunk, or burnt, or put to flight the galleys, and
obliged the carrack to surrender.[*] They brought her home to England,
and she was valued at a million of ducats:[**] a sensible loss to the
Spaniards, and a supply still more important to Elizabeth.[***]

* Monson, p. 181.

* Camden, p. 647.

* This year the Spaniards began the siege of Ostend, which
was bravely defended for five months by Sir Francis Vere.
The states then relieved him, by sending a new governor; and
on the whole, the siege lasted three years, and is computed
to have cost the lives of one hundred thousand men.

The affairs of Ireland, after the defeat of Tyrone and the expulsion of
the Spaniards, hastened to a settlement. Lord Mountjoy divided his army
into small parties, and harassed the rebels on every side: he built
Charlemont and many other small forts, which were impregnable to the
Irish, and guarded all the important passes of the country: the activity
of Sir Henry Docwray and Sir Arthur Chichester permitted no repose
or security to the rebels; and many of the chieftains, after skulking
during some time in woods and morasses, submitted to mercy, and received
such conditions as the deputy was pleased to impose upon them.

{1603.} Tyrone himself made application by Arthur Mac-Baron, his
brother, to be received upon terms; but Mountjoy would not admit him,
except he made an absolute surrender of his life and fortunes to the
queen's mercy. He appeared before the deputy at Millefont, in a habit
and posture suitable to his present fortune; and after acknowledging
his offence in the most humble terms, he was committed to custody by
Mountjoy, who intended to bring him over captive into England, to be
disposed of at the queen's pleasure.

But Elizabeth was now incapable of receiving any satisfaction from this
fortunate event: she had fallen into a profound melancholy; which all
the advantages of her high fortune, all the glories of her prosperous
reign, were unable in any degree to alleviate or assuage. Some ascribed
this depression of mind to her repentance of granting a pardon to
Tyrone, whom she had always resolved to bring to condign punishment for
his treasons, but who had made such interest with the ministers as to
extort a remission from her. Others, with more likelihood, accounted for
her dejection by a discovery which she had made, of the correspondence
maintained in her court with her successor, the king of Scots, and by
the neglect to which, on account of her old age and infirmities, she
imagined herself to be exposed. But there is another cause assigned for
her melancholy, which has long been rejected by historians as romantic,
but which late discoveries seem to have confirmed:[*] some incidents
happened which revived her tenderness for Essex, and filled her with
the deepest sorrow for the consent which she had unwarily given to his
execution.

* See the proofs of this remarkable fact collected in
Birch's Negotiations, p. 206. And Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 481,
505, 506, etc.

The earl of Essex, after his return from the fortunate expedition
against Cadiz, observing the increase of the queen's fond attachment
towards him, took occasion to regret, that the necessity of her service
required him often to be absent from her person, and exposed him to all
those ill offices which his enemies, more assiduous in their attendance,
could employ against him. She was moved with this tender jealousy; and
making him the present of a ring, desired him to keep that pledge of her
affection, and assured him, that into whatever disgrace he should fall,
whatever prejudices she might be induced to entertain against him, yet,
if he sent her that ring, she would immediately upon the sight of it
recall her former tenderness, would afford him a patient hearing, and
would lend a favorable ear to his apology. Essex, notwithstanding all
his misfortunes, reserved this precious gift to the last extremity; but
after his trial and condemnation, he resolved to try the experiment, and
he committed the ring to the countess of Nottingham, whom he desired to
deliver it to the queen. The countess was prevailed on by her husband,
the mortal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission; and Elizabeth,
who still expected that her favorite would make this last appeal to
her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his invincible
obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal combats, pushed
by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution. The
countess of Nottingham, falling into sickness, and affected with the
near approach of death, was seized with remorse for her conduct; and
having obtained a visit from the queen, she craved her pardon, and
revealed to her the fatal secret. The queen, astonished with this
incident, burst into a furious passion: she shook the dying countess in
her bed; and crying to her, "that God might pardon her, but she never
could," she broke from her, and thenceforth resigned herself over to the
deepest and most incurable melancholy. She rejected all consolation: she
even refused food and sustenance: and throwing herself on the floor, she
remained sullen and immovable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions,
and declaring life and existence an insufferable burden to her. Few
words she uttered; and they were all expressive of some inward grief
which she cared not to reveal: but sighs and groans were the chief vent
which she gave to her despondency, and which, though they discovered her
sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them. Ten days and nights
she lay upon the carpet, leaning on cushions which her maids brought
her; and her physicians could not persuade her to allow herself to
be put to bed, much less to make trial of any remedies which they
prescribed to her.[*]

* Strype, vol. iv. No. 276.

Her anxious mind at last had so long preyed on her frail body, that her
end was visibly approaching; and the council, being assembled, sent
the keeper, admiral, and secretary, to know her will with regard to her
successor. She answered with a faint voice, that as she had held a regal
sceptre, she desired no other than a royal successor. Cecil requesting
her to explain herself more particularly, she subjoined, that she would
have a king to succeed her; and who should that be but her nearest
kinsman, the king of Scots? Being then advised by the archbishop of
Canterbury to fix her thoughts upon God, she replied, that she did so,
nor did her mind in the least wander from him. Her voice soon after
left her and senses failed; she fell into a lethargic slumber, which
continued some hours; and she expired gently, without further struggle
or convulsion, in the seventieth year of her age, and forty-fifth of her
reign.

So dark a cloud overcast the evening of that day which had shone out
with a mighty lustre in the eyes of all Europe. There are few great
personages in history who have been more exposed to the calumny of
enemies and the adulation of friends than Queen Elizabeth; and yet there
scarcely is any whose reputation has been more certainly determined
by the unanimous consent of posterity. The unusual length of her
administration, and the strong features of her character, were able to
overcome all prejudices; and obliging her detractors to abate much of
their invectives, and her admirers somewhat of their panegyrics, have
at last, in spite of political factions and, what is more, of religious
animosities, produced a uniform judgment with regard to her conduct.
Her vigor, her constancy, her magnanimity, her penetration, vigilance,
address, are allowed to merit the highest praises, and appear not to
have been surpassed by any person that ever filled a throne: a conduct
less rigorous, less imperious, more sincere, more indulgent to her
people, would have been requisite to form a perfect character. By the
force of her mind, she controlled all her more active and stronger
qualities, and prevented them from running into excess: her heroism was
exempt from temerity, her frugality from avarice, her friendship from
partiality, her active temper from turbulency and a vain ambition;
she guarded not herself with equal care or equal success from lesser
infirmities; the rivalship of beauty, the desire of admiration, the
jealousy of love, and the sallies of anger.

Her singular talents for government were founded equally on her temper
and on her capacity. Endowed with a great command over herself, she
soon obtained an uncontrolled ascendant over her people; and while she
merited all their esteem by her real virtues, she also engaged their
affections by her pretended ones. Few sovereigns of England succeeded to
the throne in more difficult circumstances; and none ever conducted the
government with such uniform success and felicity. Though unacquainted
with the practice of toleration, the true secret for managing religious
factions, she preserved her people, by her superior prudence, from
those confusions in which theological controversy had involved all
the neighboring nations: and though her enemies were the most powerful
princes of Europe, the most active, the most enterprising, the least
scrupulous, she was able by her vigor to make deep impressions on their
states; her own greatness, meanwhile, remained untouched and unimpaired.

The wise ministers and brave warriors who flourished under her reign,
share the praise of her success; but instead of lessening the applause
due to her, they make great addition to it. They owed all of them their
advancement to her choice; they were supported by her constancy; and,
with all their abilities, they were never able to acquire any undue
ascendant over her. In her family, in her court, in her kingdom, she
remained equally mistress: the force of the tender passions was great
over her, but the force of her mind was still superior; and the combat
which her victory visibly cost her, serves only to display the firmness
of her resolution, and the loftiness of her ambitious sentiments.

The fame of this princess, though it has surmounted the prejudices both
of faction and bigotry, yet lies still exposed to another prejudice,
which is more durable because more natural, and which, according to the
different views in which we survey her, is capable either of exalting
beyond measure, or diminishing the lustre of her character. This
prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sex. When we
contemplate her as a woman, we are apt to be struck with the highest
admiration of her great qualities and extensive capacity; but we are
also apt to require some more softness of disposition, some greater
lenity of temper, some of those amiable weaknesses by which her sex is
distinguished. But the true method of estimating her merit, is to lay
aside all these considerations, and consider her merely as a rational
being placed in authority, and intrusted with the government of mankind.
We may find it difficult to reconcile our fancy to her as a wife or
a mistress; but her qualities as a sovereign, though with some
considerable exceptions, are the object of undisputed applause and
approbation.

APPENDIX III

The party among us who have distinguished themselves by their adhering
to liberty and a popular government, have long indulged their prejudices
against the succeeding race of princes, by bestowing unbounded
panegyrics on the virtue and wisdom of Elizabeth. They have even been
so extremely ignorant of the transactions of this reign, as to extol her
for a quality which, of all others, she was the least possessed of; a
tender regard for the constitution, and a concern for the liberties
and privileges of her people. But as it is scarcely possible for the
prepossessions of party to throw a veil much longer over facts so
palpable and undeniable, there is danger lest the public should run into
the opposite extreme, and should entertain an aversion to the memory of
a princess who exercised the royal authority in a manner so contrary to
all the ideas which we at present entertain of a legal constitution.
But Elizabeth only supported the prerogatives transmitted to her by her
predecessors: she believed that her subjects were entitled to no more
liberty than their ancestors had enjoyed: she found that they entirely
acquiesced in her arbitrary administration: and it was not natural for
her to find fault with a form of government by which she herself was
invested with such unlimited authority. In the particular exertions of
power, the question ought never to be forgotten, What is best? But
in the general distribution of power among the several members of a
constitution, there can seldom be admitted any other question than,
What is established? Few examples occur of princes who have willingly
resigned their power; none of those who have, without struggle and
reluctance, allowed it to be extorted from them. If any other rule than
established practice be followed, factions and dissensions must multiply
without end: and though many constitutions, and none more than the
British, have been improved even by violent innovations, the praise
bestowed on those patriots to whom the nation has been indebted for its
privileges, ought to be given with some reserve, and surely without the
least rancor against those who adhered to the ancient constitution.[*]

In order to understand the ancient constitution of England, there is not
a period which deserves more to be studied than the reign of Elizabeth.
The prerogatives of this princess were scarcely ever disputed, and
she therefore employed them without scruple: her imperious temper--a
circumstance in which she went far beyond her successors--rendered her
exertions of power violent and frequent, and discovered the full extent
of her authority: the great popularity which she enjoyed, proves that
she did not infringe any established liberties of the people: there
remains evidence sufficient to ascertain the most noted acts of her
administration: and though that evidence must be drawn from a source
wide of the ordinary historians, it becomes only the more authentic
on that account, and serves as a stronger proof, that her particular
exertions of power were conceived to be nothing but the ordinary course
of administration, since they were not thought remarkable enough to be
recorded even by contemporary writers. If there was any difference in
this particular, the people in former reigns seem rather to have been
more submissive than even during the age of Elizabeth;[**] it may not
here be improper to recount some of the ancient prerogatives of the
crown, and lay open the sources of that great power which the English
monarchs formerly enjoyed.

* By the ancient constitution, is here meant that which
prevailed before the settlement of our present plan of
liberty. There was a more ancient constitution, where,
though the people had perhaps less liberty than under the
Tudors, yet the king had also less authority: the power of
the barons was a great check upon him, and exercised great
tyranny over them. But there was still a more ancient
constitution, viz., that before the signing of the charters,
when neither the people nor the barons had any regular
privileges; and the power of the government during the reign
of an able prince was almost wholly in the king. The English
constitution, like all others, has been in a state of
continual fluctuation.

** In a memorial of the state of the realm, drawn by
Secretary Cecil in 1569, there is this passage: "Then
followeth the decay of obedience in civil policy, which
being compared with the fearfulness and reverence of all
inferior estates to their superiors in times past, will
astonish any wise and considerate person, to behold the
desperation of reformation," Haynes, p, 586. Again, p. 538.

One of the most ancient and most established instruments of power was
the court of star chamber, which possessed an unlimited discretionary
authority of fining, imprisoning, and inflicting corporal punishment;
and whose jurisdiction extended to all sorts of offences, contempts, and
disorders that lay not within reach of the common law. The members of
this court consisted of the privy council and the judges; men who all of
them enjoyed their offices during pleasure; and when the prince himself
was present, he was the sole judge, and all the others could only
interpose with their advice. There needed but this one court in any
government to put an end to all regular, legal, and exact plans of
liberty; for who durst set himself in opposition to the crown and
ministry, or aspire to the character of being a patron of freedom, while
exposed to so arbitrary a jurisdiction? I much question whether any of
the absolute monarchies in Europe contain, at present, so illegal and
despotic a tribunal.

The court of high commission was another jurisdiction still more
terrible; both because the crime of heresy, of which it took cognizance,
was more undefinable than any civil offence, and because its methods of
inquisition, and of administering oaths, were more contrary to all the
most simple ideas of justice and equity. The fines and imprisonments
imposed by this court were frequent: the deprivations and suspensions of
the clergy for nonconformity were also numerous, and comprehended at one
time the third of all the ecclesiastics of England.[*] The queen, in
a letter to the archbishop of Canterbury, said expressly, that she was
resolved "that no man should be suffered to decline, either on the left
or on the right hand, from the drawn line limited by authority, and by
her laws and injunctions."[**]

But martial law went beyond even these two courts in a prompt, and
arbitrary, and violent method of decision. Whenever there was any
insurrection or public disorder, the crown employed martial law; and it
was, during that time, exercised not only over the soldiers, but over
the whole people; any one might be punished as a rebel, or an aider
and abettor of rebellion, whom the provost martial, or lieutenant of a
county, or their deputies, pleased to suspect. Lord Bacon says, that
the trial at common law granted to the earl of Essex and his
fellow-conspirators, was a favor; for that the case would have borne and
required the severity of martial law.[***]

* Neal, vol. i. p. 479.

** Vol. iv. p. 510.

**** Murden, p. 183.

We have seen instances of its being employed by Queen Mary in defence
of orthodoxy. There remains a letter of Queen Elizabeth's to the earl
of Sussex, after the suppression of the northern rebellion, in which she
sharply reproves him, because she had not heard of his having executed
any criminals by martial law;[*] though it is probable that near eight
hundred persons suffered, one way or other, on account of that slight
insurrection. But the kings of England did not always limit the exercise
of this law to times of civil war and disorder. In 1552, when there
was no rebellion or insurrection, King Edward granted a commission of
martial law; and empowered the commissioners to execute it, "as should
be thought by their discretions most necessary."[**] Queen Elizabeth too
was not sparing in the use of this law. In 1573, one Peter Burchet, a
Puritan, being persuaded that it was meritorious to kill such as opposed
the truth of the gospel, ran into the streets, and wounded Hawkins, the
famous sea captain, whom he took for Hatton, the queen's favorite. The
queen was so incensed, that she ordered him to be punished instantly by
martial law; but upon the remonstrance of some prudent counsellors,
who told her that this law was usually confined to turbulent times, she
recalled her order, and delivered over Burchet to the common law.[***]
But she continued not always so reserved in executing this authority.
There remains a proclamation of hers, in which she orders martial law
to be used against all such as import bulls, or even forbidden books
and pamphlets from abroad;[****] and prohibits the questioning of the
lieutenants or their deputies for their arbitrary punishment of
such offenders, "any law or statute to the contrary in anywise
notwithstanding."

* MS. of Lord Royston's, from the paper office.

** Strype's Eccles. Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 373, 458, 459.

*** Camden, p. 446. Strype, vol. ii. p. 288.

**** Strype, vol. iii. p. 570

We have another act of hers still more extraordinary. The streets of
London were much infested with idle vagabonds and riotous persons: the
lord mayor had endeavored to repress this disorder: the star chamber had
exerted its authority, and inflicted punishment on these rioters: but
the queen, finding those remedies ineffectual, revived martial law, and
gave Sir Thomas Wilford a commission of provost-martial: "Granting him
authority, and commanding him, upon signification given by the justices
of peace in London or the neighboring counties, of such offenders worthy
to be speedily executed by martial law, to attach and take the same
persons, and in the presence of the said justices, according to justice
of martial law, to execute them upon the gallows or gibbet openly, or
near to such place where the said rebellious and incorrigible offenders
shall be found to have committed the said great offences."[*] I suppose
it would be difficult to produce an instance of such an act of authority
in any place nearer than Muscovy. The patent of high constable, granted
to Earl Rivers by Edward IV., proves the nature of the office. The
powers are unlimited, perpetual, and remain in force during peace as
well as during war and rebellion. The parliament in Edward VI.'s reign
acknowledged the jurisdiction of the constable and martial's court to be
part of the law of the land.[**]

The star chamber, and high commission, and court martial, though
arbitrary jurisdictions, had still some pretence of a trial, at least of
a sentence; but there was a grievous punishment very generally inflicted
in that age, without any other authority than the warrant of a secretary
of state or of the privy council;[***] and that was, imprisonment in any
jail, and during any time, that the ministers should think proper. In
suspicious times, all the jails were full of prisoners of state; and
these unhappy victims of public jealousy were sometimes thrown into
dungeons, and loaded with irons, and treated in the most cruel manner,
without their being able to obtain any remedy from law.

This practice was an indirect way of employing torture: but the rack
itself, though not admitted in the ordinary execution of justice,[****]
was frequently used, upon any suspicion, by authority of a warrant from
a secretary or the privy council. Even the council in the marches of
Wales was empowered, by their very commission, to make use of torture
whenever they thought proper.[v]

* Rymer, vol. xvi. p. 279.

** 7 Edw. VI. cap. 20. See Sir John Davis's Question
concerning Impositions, p. 9.

*** In 1588, the lord mayor committed several citizens to
prison, because they refused to pay the loan demanded of
them. Murden, p. 632.

**** Harrison, chap. 11.

v Haynes, p 196. See further, La Boderie, vol. i. p. 211.

There cannot be a stronger proof how lightly the rack was employed than
the following story, told by Lord Bacon. We shall give it in his own
words: "The queen was mightily incensed against Haywarde, on account of
a book he dedicated to Lord Essex, being a story of the first year of
Henry IV., thinking it a seditious prelude to put into the people's
heads boldness and faction:[*] she said, she had an opinion that there
was treason in it, and asked me if I could not find any places in it
that might be drawn within the case of treason? Whereto I answered,
For treason, sure I found none; but for felony, very many: and when her
majesty hastily asked me, Wherein? I told her, the author had committed
very apparent theft; for he had taken most of the sentences of Cornelius
Tacitus, and translated them into English, and put them into his text.
And another time, when the queen could not be persuaded that it was
his writing whose name was to it, but that it had some more mischievous
author, and said with great indignation, that she would have him racked
to produce his author; I replied, Nay, madam, he is a doctor; never rack
his person, but rack his style: let him have pen, ink, and paper, and
help of books, and be enjoined to continue the story where it breaketh
off, and I will undertake, by collating the styles, to judge whether he
were the author or no."[**] Thus, had it not been for Bacon's humanity,
or rather his wit, this author, a man of letters, had been put to
the rack for a most innocent performance. His real offence was his
dedicating a book to that munificent patron of the learned, the earl of
Essex, at a time when this nobleman lay under her majesty's displeasure.

* To our apprehension, Haywarde's book seems rather to have
a contrary tendency. For he has there preserved the famous
speech of the bishop of Carlisle, which contains, in the
most express terms, the doctrine of passive obedience. But
Queen Elizabeth was very difficult to please on this head.

** Cabala, p. 81. anciently common of fining, imprisoning,
or otherwise punishing the jurors, merely at the discretion
of the court, for finding a verdict contrary to the
direction of these dependent judges, it is obvious that
juries were then no manner of security to the liberty of the
subject.

The queen's menace of trying and punishing Haywarde for treason could
easily have been executed, let his book have been ever so innocent.
While so many terrors hung over the people, no jury durst have acquitted
a man when the court was resolved to have him condemned. The practice,
also, of not confronting witnesses with the prisoner, gave the crown
lawyers all imaginable advantage against him. And indeed there scarcely
occurs an instance during all these reigns, that the sovereign or the
ministers were ever disappointed in the issue of a prosecution. Timid
juries, and judges who held their offices during pleasure, never failed
to second all the views of the crown.

The power of pressing, both for sea and land service, and obliging
any person to accept of any office, however mean or unfit for him, was
another prerogative totally incompatible with freedom. Osborne gives the
following account of Elizabeth's method of employing this prerogative:
"In case she found any likely to interrupt her occasions," says he, "she
did seasonably prevent him by a chargeable employment abroad, or putting
him upon some service at home, which she knew least grateful to the
people; contrary to a false maxim, since practised with far worse
success, by such princes as thought it better husbandry to buy off
enemies than reward friends."[*] The practice with which Osborne
reproaches the two immediate successors of Elizabeth, proceeded partly
from the extreme difficulty of their situation, partly from the greater
lenity of their disposition. The power of pressing, as may naturally be
imagined, was often abused, in other respects, by men of inferior
rank; and officers often exacted money for freeing persons from the
service.[**]

* Page 392.

* Murden, p. 181.

The government of England during that age, however different in other
particulars, bore in this respect some resemblance to that of Turkey at
present: the sovereign possessed every power, except that of imposing
taxes; and in both countries, this limitation, unsupported by other
privileges, appears rather prejudicial to the people. In Turkey, it
obliges the sultan to permit the extortion of the pashas and governors
of provinces, from whom he afterwards squeezes presents or takes
forfeitures: in England, it engaged the queen to erect monopolies, and
grant patents for exclusive trade; an invention so pernicious, that had
she gone on during a tract of years at her own rate, England, the seat
of riches, and arts, and commerce, would have contained at present as
little industry as Morocco or the coast of Barbary.

We may further observe that this valuable privilege, valuable only
because it proved afterwards the means by which the parliament extorted
all their other privileges, was very much encroached on, in an indirect
manner, during the reign of Elizabeth, as well as of her predecessors.
She often exacted loans from her people; an arbitrary and unequal kind
of imposition, and which individuals felt severely; for though the money
had been regularly repaid, which was seldom the case,[*] it lay in the
prince's hands without interest, which was a sensible loss to the
persons from whom the money was borrowed.[**]

There remains a proposal, made by Lord Burleigh, for levying a general
loan on the people, equivalent to a subsidy;[***] a scheme which would
have laid the burden more equally, but which was, in different words, a
taxation imposed without consent of parliament. It is remarkable, that
the scheme thus proposed, without any visible necessity, by that wise
minister, is the very same which Henry VIII. executed, and which
Charles I., enraged by ill usage from his parliament, and reduced to
the greatest difficulties, put afterwards in practice, to the great
discontent of the nation.

The demand of benevolence was another invention of that age for taxing
the people. This practice was so little conceived to be irregular, that
the commons in 1585 offered the queen a benevolence; which she very
generously refused, as having no occasion at that time for money.[****]
Queen Mary, also, by an order of council, increased the customs in some
branches; and her sister imitated the example.[v] There was a species
of ship money imposed at the time of the Spanish invasion: the several
ports were required to equip a certain number of vessels at their own
charge: and such was the alacrity of the people for the public defence,
that some of the ports, particularly London, sent double the number
demanded of them.[v*]

* Bacon, vol. iv. p. 362.

** In the second of Richard II., it was enacted that in
loans which the king shall require of his subjects, upon
letters of privy seal, such as have "reasonable" excuse of
not lending, may there be received without further summons,
travel, or grief. See Cotton's Abridg. p. 170. By this law,
the king's prerogative of exacting loans was ratified; and
what ought to be deemed a "reasonable" excuse was still left
in his own breast to determine.

*** Haynes, p. 518, 519.

**** D'Ewes, p. 494.

v Bacon, vol. iv p. 362.

v* Monson, p 267.

When any levies were made for Ireland, France, or the Low Countries, the
queen obliged the counties to levy the soldiers, to arm and clothe them,
and carry them to the seaports at their own charge. New-year's gifts
were at that time expected from the nobility, and from the more
considerable gentry.[*]

Purveyance and preëmption were also methods of taxation, unequal,
arbitrary, and oppressive. The whole kingdom sensibly felt the burden of
those impositions; and it was regarded as a great privilege conferred
on Oxford and Cambridge, to prohibit the purveyors from taking
any commodities within five miles of these universities. The queen
victualled her navy by means of this prerogative, during the first years
of he reign.[**]

Wardship was the most regular and legal of all these impositions by
prerogative; yet was it a great badge of slavery and oppressive to all
the considerable families. When an estate devolved to a female, the
sovereign obliged her to marry anyone he pleased: whether the heir were
male or female, the crown enjoyed the whole profit of the estate during
the minority. The giving of a rich wardship was a usual method of
rewarding a courtier or favorite.

The inventions were endless which arbitrary power might employ for the
extorting of money, while the people imagined that their property was
secured by the crown's being debarred from imposing taxes. Strype has
preserved a speech of Lord Burleigh to the queen and council, in which
are contained some particulars not a little extraordinary.[***]

* Strype's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 137.

** Camden, p. 388.

*** Annals, vol. iv. p. 234 et seq.

Burleigh proposes, that she should erect a court for the correction
of all abuses, and should confer on the commissioners a general
inquisitorial power over the whole kingdom. He sets before her the
example of her wise grandfather, Henry VII., who by such methods
extremely augmented his revenue; and he recommends that this new court
should proceed, "as well by the direction and ordinary course of the
laws, as by virtue of her majesty's supreme regiment and absolute power,
from whence law proceeded." In a word, he expects from this institution
greater accession to the royal treasure than Henry VIII. derived from
the abolition of the abbeys, and all the forfeitures of ecclesiastical
revenues. This project of Lord Burleigh's needs not, I think, any
comment. A form of government must be very arbitrary indeed, where a
wise and good minister could make such a proposal to the sovereign.

Embargoes on merchandise was another engine of royal power, by which the
English princes were able to extort money from the people. We have seen
instances in the reign of Mary. Elizabeth, before her coronation, issued
an order to the custom-house, prohibiting the sale of all crimson silks
which should be imported, till the court were first supplied.[*] She
expected, no doubt, a good pennyworth from the merchants while they lay
under this restraint.

The parliament pretended to the right of enacting laws, as well as of
granting subsidies; but this privilege was, during that age, still more
insignificant than the other. Queen Elizabeth expressly prohibited them
from meddling either with state matters or ecclesiastical causes;
and she openly sent the members to prison who dared to transgress
her imperial edict in these particulars. There passed few sessions of
parliament, during her reign where there occur not instances of this
arbitrary conduct.

But the legislative power of the parliament was a mere fallacy, while
the sovereign was universally acknowledged to possess a dispensing
power, by which all the laws could be invalidated, and rendered of no
effect. The exercise of this power was also an indirect method
practised for erecting monopolies. Where the statutes laid any branch of
manufacture under restrictions, the sovereign, by exempting one person
from the laws, gave him in effect the monopoly of that commodity.[**]
There was no grievance at that time more universally complained of, than
the frequent dispensing with the penal laws.[***]

But in reality the crown possessed the full legislative power, by means
of proclamations, which might affect any matter, even of the greatest
importance, and which the star chamber took care to see more rigorously
executed than the laws themselves. The motives for these proclamations
were sometimes frivolous, and even ridiculous. Queen Elizabeth had taken
offence at the smell of woad; and she issued an edict prohibiting any
one from cultivating that useful plant.[****]

* Strype, vol. i. p. 27.

** Rymer, tom. xv. p. 756. D'Ewes, p. 645.

*** Murden, p. 325.

**** Townsend's Journals, p. 250. Stow's Annals.

She was also pleased to take offence at the long swords and high ruffs
then in fashion: she sent about her officers to break every man's sword,
and clip every man's ruff which was beyond a certain dimension.[*] This
practice resembles the method employed by the great Czar Peter to make
his subjects change their garb.

The queen's prohibition of the "prophesyings," or the assemblies
instituted for fanatical prayers and conferences, was founded on a
better reason, but shows still the unlimited extent of her prerogative.
Any number of persons could not meet together, in order to read the
Scriptures and confer about religion, though in ever so orthodox a
manner, without her permission.

There were many other branches of prerogative incompatible with an
exact or regular enjoyment of liberty. None of the nobility could marry
without permission from the sovereign. The queen detained the earl of
Southampton long in prison, because he privately married the earl of
Essex's cousin.[**] No man could travel without the consent of the
prince. Sir William Evers underwent a severe persecution because he had
presumed to pay a private visit to the king of Scots.[***] The sovereign
even assumed a supreme and uncontrolled authority over all foreign
trade; and neither allowed any person to enter or depart the kingdom,
nor any commodity to be imported or exported, without his consent.[****]

The parliament, in the thirteenth of the queen, praised her for not
imitating the practice usual among her predecessors, of stopping the
course of justice by particular warrants.[v] There could not possibly be
a greater abuse, nor a stronger mark of arbitrary power; and the queen,
in refraining from it, was very laudable. But she was by no means
constant in this reserve. There remain in the public records some
warrants of hers for exempting particular persons from all law-suits and
prosecutions;[v*] If and these warrants, she says, she grants from her
royal prerogative, which she will not allow to be disputed.

* Townsend's Journals, p. 250. Stow's Annals. Strype, vol. i
p 603.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 422.

*** Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 511.

**** Sir John Davis's Question concerning Impositions,
passim

v D'Ewes, p. 141.

v* Rymer, tom, xv. p 652 708, 777.

It was very usual in Queen Elizabeth's reign, and probably in all the
preceding reigns, for noblemen or privy counsellors to commit to prison
any one who had happened to displease them by suing for his just debts;
and the unhappy person, though he gained his cause in the courts of
justice, was commonly obliged to relinquish his property in order to
obtain his liberty. Some, likewise, who had been delivered from prison
by the judges, were again committed to custody in secret places, without
any possibility of obtaining relief; and even the officers and serjeants
of the courts of law were punished for executing the writs in favor of
these persons. Nay, it was usual to send for people by pursuivants, a
kind of harpies who then attended the orders of the council and high
commission; and they were brought up to London, and constrained by
imprisonment, not only to withdraw their lawful suits, but also to pay
the pursuivants great sums of money. The judges, in the thirty-fourth of
the queen, complain to her majesty of the frequency of this practice. It
is probable that so egregious a tyranny was carried no farther down than
the reign of Elizabeth; since the parliament who presented the petition
of right found no later instances of it.[*] And even these very judges
of Elizabeth, who thus protect the people against the tyranny of the
great, expressly allow, that a person committed by special command of
the queen is not bailable.

It is easy to imagine that, in such a government, no justice could by
course of law be obtained of the sovereign, unless he were willing to
allow it. In the naval expedition undertaken by Raleigh and Frobisher
against the Spaniards, in the year 1592, a very rich carrack was taken,
worth two hundred thousand pounds. The queen's share in the adventure
was only a tenth; but as the prize was so great, and exceeded so much
the expectation of all the adventurers, she was determined not to rest
contented with her share. Raleigh humbly and earnestly begged her to
accept of a hundred thousand pounds in lieu of all demands, or rather
extortions; and says that the present which the proprietors were willing
to make her of eighty thousand pounds, was the greatest that ever prince
received from a subject.[**]

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 511. Franklyn's Annals, p. 250, 251.

** Strype, vol. iv. p. 128, 129.

But it is no wonder the queen, in her administration, should pay so
little regard to liberty, while the parliament itself, in enacting laws,
was entirely negligent of it. The persecuting statutes which they passed
against Papists and Puritans are extremely contrary to the genius of
freedom; and by exposing such multitudes to the tyranny of priests and
bigots, accustomed the people to the most disgraceful subjection. Their
conferring an unlimited supremacy on the queen, or, what is worse,
acknowledging her inherent right to it, was another proof of their
voluntary servitude.

The law of the twenty-third of her reign, making seditious words against
the queen capital, is also a very tyrannical statute; and a use no less
tyrannical was sometimes made of it. The case of Udal, a Puritanical
clergyman, seems singular even in those arbitrary times. This man had
published a book, called a Demonstration of Discipline, in which he
inveighed against the government of bishops; and though he had
carefully endeavored to conceal his name, he was thrown into prison upon
suspicion, and brought to a trial for this offence. It was pretended,
that the bishops were part of the queen's political body; and to speak
against them, was really to attack her, and was therefore felony by the
statute. This was not the only iniquity to which Udal was exposed. The
judges would not allow the jury to determine any thing but the fact,
whether Udal had written the book or not, without examining his
intention, or the import of the words. In order to prove the fact, the
crown lawyers did not produce a single witness to the court: they only
read the testimony of two persons absent, one of whom said, that Udal
had told him he was the author; another, that a friend of Udal's had
said so. They would not allow Udal to produce any exculpatory evidence;
which, they said, was never to be permitted against the crown.[*] And
they tendered him an oath, by which he was required to depose that he
was not the author of the book; and his refusal to make that deposition
was employed as the strongest proof of his guilt. It is almost needless
to add, that notwithstanding these multiplied iniquities, a verdict
of death was given by the jury against Udal; for, as the queen was
extremely bent upon his prosecution, it was impossible he could
escape.[**] He died in prison, before execution of the sentence.

* It was never fully established that the prisoner could
legally produce evidence against the crown, till after the
revolution. See Blackstone's Commentaries, vol. iv. p. 352.

** State Trials, vol. i. p. 144. Strype, voL iv. p. 21.
Strype's Life of Whitgift, p. 343.

The case of Penry was, if possible, still hardier. This man was a
zealous Puritan, or rather a Brownist, a small sect, which afterwards
increased, and received the name of "Independents." He had written
against the hierarchy several tracts, such as Martin Marprelate, Theses
Martinianæ, and other compositions, full of low scurrility and petulant
satire. After concealing himself for some years, he was seized; and as
the statute against seditious words required that the criminal should
be tried within a year after committing the offence, he could not be
indicted for his printed books. He was therefore tried for some papers
found in his pocket, as if he had thereby scattered sedition.[*] It
was also imputed to him, by the lord keeper, Puckering, that in some
of these papers, "he had only acknowledged her majesty's royal power to
establish laws ecclesiastical and civil; but had avoided the usual terms
of making, enacting, decreeing, and ordaining laws; which imply,"
says the lord keeper, "a most absolute authority."[**] Penry for these
offences was condemned and executed.

Thus we have seen, that the "most absolute" authority of the sovereign,
to make use of the lord keeper's expression was established on above
twenty branches of prerogative, which are now abolished, and which were,
every one of them totally incompatible with the liberty of the subject.
But what insured more effectually the slavery of the people, than even
these branches of prerogative, was, the established principles of the
times, which attributed to the prince such an unlimited and indefeasible
power, as was supposed to be the origin of all law, and could be
circumscribed by none. The homilies published for the use of the clergy,
and which they were enjoined to read every Sunday in all the churches,
inculcate every where a blind and unlimited passive obedience to the
prince, which on no account, and under no pretence, is it ever lawful
for subjects in the smallest article to depart from or infringe. Much
noise has been made because some court chaplains, during the succeeding
reigns, were permitted to preach such doctrines; but there is a great
difference between these sermons, and discourses published by authority,
avowed by the prince and council, and promulgated to the whole
nation.[***]

* Strype's Life of Whitgift, book iv. chap. 11. Neal, vol.
i. p. 564.

** Strype's Annals, vol. iv. p. 177.

*** Gifford, a clergyman, was suspended in the year 1584,
for preaching up a limited obedience to the civil
magistrate, Neal, vol. i. p. 435.

So thoroughly were these principles imbibed by the people, during the
reigns of Elizabeth and her predecessors, that opposition to them was
regarded as the most flagrant sedition; and was not even rewarded by
that public praise and approbation, which can alone support men under
such dangers and difficulties as attend the resistance of tyrannical
authority.[*] It was only during the next generation that the noble
principles of liberty took root, and spreading themselves under the
shelter of Puritanical absurdities, became fashionable among the people.

It is worth remarking, that the advantage usually ascribed to absolute
monarchy, a greater regularity of police, and a more strict execution of
the laws, did not attend the former English government, though in many
respects it fell under that denomination. A demonstration of this truth
is contained in a judicious paper which is preserved by Strype,[**] and
which was written by an eminent justice of peace of Somersetshire, in
the year 1596, near the end of the queen's reign; when the authority of
that princess may be supposed to be fully corroborated by time, and her
maxims of government improved by long practice.

* It is remarkable, that in all the historical plays of
Shakspeare, where the manners and characters, and even the
transactions of the several reigns, are so exactly copied,
there is scarcely any mention of civil liberty, which some
pretended historians have imagined to be the object of all
the ancient quarrels, insurrections, and civil wars. In the
elaborate panegyric of England, contained in the tragedy of
Richard II., and the detail of its advantages, not a word of
its civil constitution, as anywise different from or
superior to that of other European kingdoms; an omission
which cannot be supposed in any English author that wrote
since the restoration, at least since the revolution.

** Annals, vol. iv. p. 290

This paper contains an account of the disorders which then prevailed in
the county of Somerset. The author says, that forty persons had there
been executed in a year for robberies, thefts, and other felonies;
thirty-five burnt in the hand, thirty-seven whipped, one hundred and
eighty-three discharged: that those who were discharged were most wicked
and desperate persons, who never could come to any good, because
they would not work, and none would take them into service: that
notwithstanding this great number of indictments, the fifth part of the
felonies committed in the county were not brought to trial; the greater
number escaped censure, either from the superior cunning of the felons,
the remissness of the magistrates, or the foolish lenity of the people:
that the rapines committed by the infinite number of wicked, wandering,
idle people, were intolerable to the poor countrymen, and obliged them
to keep a perpetual watch over their sheepfolds, their pastures, their
woods, and their cornfields: that the other counties of England were in
no better condition than Somersetshire; and many of them were even in
a worse: that there were at least three or four hundred able-bodied
vagabonds in every county, who lived by theft and rapine; and who
sometimes met in troops to the number of sixty, and committed spoil on
the inhabitants: that if all the felons of this kind were assembled,
they would be able, if reduced to good subjection, to give the greatest
enemy her majesty has a "strong battle:" and that the magistrates
themselves were intimidated from executing the laws upon them; and there
were instances of justices of peace who, after giving sentence against
rogues, had interposed to stop the execution of their own sentence,
on account of the danger which hung over them from the confederates of
these felons.

In the year 1575, the queen complained in parliament of the bad
execution of the laws; and threatened, that if the magistrates were not
for the future more vigilant, she would intrust authority to indigent
and needy persons, who would find an interest in a more exact
administration of justice.[*] It appears that she was as good as
her word. For in the year 1601, there were great complaints made in
parliament of the rapine of justices of peace; and a member said, that
this magistrate was an animal who, for half a dozen of chickens, would
dispense with a dozen of penal statutes.[**] It is not easy to account
for this relaxation of government, and neglect of police, during a reign
of so much vigor as that of Elizabeth. The small revenue of the crown is
the most likely cause that can be assigned. The queen had it not in
her power to interest a great number in assisting her to execute the
laws.[***] [39]

* D'Ewes, p. 234.

** D'Ewes, p. 661-694.

*** See note MM, at the end of the volume.

On the whole, the English have no reason, from the example of their
ancestors, to be in love with the picture of absolute monarchy; or
to prefer the unlimited authority of the prince and his unbounded
prerogatives, to that noble liberty, that sweet equality, and that happy
security, by which they are at present distinguished above all nations
in the universe. The utmost that can be said in favor of the government
of that age and perhaps it may be said with truth, is, that the power
of the prince, though really unlimited, was exercised after the European
manner, and entered not into every part of the administration; that
the instances of a high exerted prerogative were not so frequent as
to render property sensibly insecure, or reduce the people to a total
servitude; that the freedom from faction, the quickness of execution,
and the promptitude of those measures which could be taken for
offence or defence, made some compensation for the want of a legal and
determinate liberty; that as the prince commanded no mercenary army,
there was a tacit check on him, which maintained the government in that
medium, to which the people had been accustomed; and that this situation
of England, though seemingly it approached nearer, was in reality more
remote from a despotic and Eastern monarchy, than the present government
of that kingdom, where the people, though guarded by multiplied laws,
are totally naked, defenceless, and disarmed; and besides, are
not secured by any middle power, or independent powerful nobility,
interposed between them and the monarch.

We shall close the present Appendix with a brief account of the
revenues, the military force, the commerce, the arts, and the learning
of England during this period.

Queen Elizabeth's economy was remarkable; and in some instances seemed
to border on avarice. The smallest expense, if it could possibly be
spared, appeared considerable in her eyes; and even the charge of
an express, during the most delicate transactions, was not below
her notice.[*] She was also attentive to every profit, and embraced
opportunities of gain which may appear somewhat extraordinary. She kept,
for instance, the see of Ely vacant nineteen years, in order to retain
the revenue;[**] and it was usual with her, when she promoted a bishop,
to take the opportunity of pillaging the see of some of its manors.[***]

* Birch's Negot. p. 21.

** Strype, vol. iv. p.. 351.

*** Strype, vol. iv. p. 215. There is a curious letter of
the queen's written to a bishop of Ely, and preserved in the
register of that see. It is in these words: "Proud prelate,
I understand you are backward in complying with your
agreement: but I would have you know, that I, who made you
what you are, can unmake you; and if you do not forthwith
fulfil your engagement, by God I will immediately unfrock
you. Yours, as you demean yourself, Elizabeth." The bishop,
it seems, had promised to exchange some part of the land
belonging to the see for a pretended equivalent; and did so,
but it was in consequence of the above letter. Annual
Register. 1761, p. 15.

But that in reality there was little of no avarice in the queen's
temper, appears from this circumstance, that she never amassed any
treasure; and even refused subsidies from the parliament when she had
no present occasion for them. Yet we must not conclude, from this
circumstance, that her economy proceeded from a tender concern for her
people; she loaded them with monopolies and exclusive patents, which are
much more oppressive than the most heavy taxes levied in an equal and
regular manner. The real source of her frugal conduct was derived from
her desire of independency, and her care to preserve her dignity, which
would have been endangered had she reduced herself to the necessity of
having frequent recourse to parliamentary supplies. In consequence of
this motive, the queen, though engaged in successful and necessary wars,
thought it more prudent to make a continual dilapidation of the royal
demesnes,[*] than demand the most moderate supplies from the commons. As
she lived unmarried, and had no posterity, she was content to serve her
present turn, though at the expense of her successors; who, by reason of
this policy, joined to other circumstances, found themselves on a sudden
reduced to the most extreme indigence.

The splendor of a court was during this age a great part of the public
charge; and as Elizabeth was a single woman, and expensive in no kind of
magnificence, except clothes, this circumstance enabled her to perform
great things by her narrow revenue. She is said to have paid four
millions of debt, left on the crown by her father, brother, and sister;
an incredible sum for that age.[**] The states at the time of her death
owed her about eight hundred thousand pounds; and, the king of France
four hundred and fifty thousand.[***]

* Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 141. D'Ewes, p. 151,457,525,629.
Bacon, vol. iv. p. 363.

** D'Ewes, p. 473. I think it impossible to reconcile this
account of the public debts with that given by Strype,
(Eccles. Mem. vol. ii. p. 344,) that in the year 1553 the
crown owed but three hundred thousand pounds. I own that
this last sum appears a great deal more likely. The whole
revenue of Queen Elizabeth would not in ten years have paid
four millions.

*** Winwood, vol. i. p. 29, 54.

Though that prince was extremely frugal, and after the peace of Vervins
was continually amassing treasure, the queen never could, by the most
pressing importunities, prevail on him to make payment of those sums
which she had so generously advanced him during his greatest distresses.
One payment of twenty thousand crowns, and another of fifty thousand,
were all she could obtain, by the strongest representations she could
make of the difficulties to which the rebellion in Ireland had reduced
her.[*] The queen expended on the wars with Spain, between the years
1589 and 1593, the sum of one million three hundred thousand pounds,
besides the pittance of a double subsidy, amounting to two hundred and
eighty thousand pounds, granted her by parliament.[**] In the year 1599,
she spent six hundred thousand pounds in six months on the service of
Ireland.[***] Sir Robert Cecil affirmed, that in ten years Ireland cost
her three millions four hundred thousand pounds.[****] She gave the earl
of Essex a present of thirty thousand pounds upon his departure for the
government of that kingdom.[v] Lord Burleigh computed, that the value of
the gifts conferred on that favorite amounted to three hundred thousand
pounds; a sum which, though probably exaggerated, is a proof of her
strong affection towards him. It was a common saying during this reign,
"The queen pays bountifully, though she rewards sparingly."[v*]

It is difficult to compute exactly the queen's ordinary revenue, but it
certainly fell much short of five hundred thousand pounds a year.[v**]
In the year 1590, she raised the customs from fourteen thousand pounds
a year to fifty thousand, and obliged Sir Thomas Smith, who had farmed
them, to refund some of his former profits.[v***]

* Winwood, vol. i. p. 117--195.

** D'Ewes, p. 483.

*** Camden, p. 167.

**** Appendix to the Earl of Essex's Apology.

v Birch's Memoirs, vol. ii.

v* Nanton's Regalia, chap. 1.

v** Franklyn, in his Annals, (p. 9,) says that the profit of
the kingdom, besides wards and the duchy of Lancaster,
(which amounted to about one hundred and twenty thousand
pounds,) was one hundred and eighty-eight thousand one
hundred and ninety-seven pounds: the crown lands seem to be
comprehended in this computation.

v*** Camden, p. 558. This account of Camden is difficult or
impossible to be reconciled to the state of the customs in
the beginning of the subsequent reign, as they appear in the
journals of the commons. See Hist. of James, chap. 46.

This improvement of the revenue was owing to the suggestions of one
Caermarthen; and was opposed by Burleigh, Leicester, and Walsingham:
but the queen's perseverance overcame all their opposition. The great
undertakings which she executed with so narrow a revenue, and with such
small supplies from her people, prove the mighty effects of wisdom and
economy. She received from the parliament, during the course of her
whole reign, only twenty subsidies and thirty-nine fifteenths. I pretend
not to determine exactly the amount of these supplies; because the value
of a subsidy was continually falling; and in the end of her reign it
amounted only to eighty thousand pounds,[*] though in the beginning it
had been a hundred and twenty thousand. If we suppose that the supplies
granted Elizabeth during a reign of forty-five years amounted to three
millions, we shall not probably be much wide of the truth.[**] This sum
makes only sixty-six thousand six hundred and sixty-six pounds a year;
and it is surprising, that while the queen's demands were so moderate,
and her expenses so well regulated, she should ever have found any
difficulty in obtaining a supply from parliament, or be reduced to make
sale of the crown lands. But such was the extreme, I had almost said,
absurd parsimony of the parliaments during that period.

* D'Ewes, p. 630.

* Lord Salisbury computed these supplies only at two
millions eight hundred thousand pounds, Journ. 17th Feb.
1609. King James was certainly mistaken when he estimated
the queen's annual supplies at one hundred and thirty-seven
thousand pounds. Franklyn, p. 44. It is curious to observe
that the minister, in the war begun in 1754, was in some
periods allowed to lavish in two months as great a sum as
was granted by parliament to Queen Elizabeth in forty-five
years. The extreme frivolous object of the late war, and the
great importance of hers, set this matter in still a
stronger light. Money too, we may observe, was in most
particulars of the same value in both periods: she paid
eight pence a day to every foot soldier. But our late
delusions have much exceeded any thing known in history, not
even excepting those of the crusades. For I suppose there is
no mathematical, still less an arithmetical demonstration,
that the road to the Holy Land was not the road to paradise,
as there is, that the endless increase of national debts is
the direct road to national ruin. But having now completely
reached that goal, it is needless at present to reflect on
the past. It will be found in the present year, 1776, that
all the revenues of this island north of Trent and west of
Reading, are mortgaged or anticipated forever. Could the
small remainder be in a worse condition were those provinces
seized by Austria and Prussia? There is only this
difference, that some event might happen in Europe, which
would oblige these great monarchs to disgorge their
acquisitions. But no imagination can figure a situation
which will induce our creditors to relinquish their claims,
or the public to seize their revenues. So egregious indeed
has been our folly, that we have even lost all title to
compassion in the numberless calamities that are awaiting
us.

They valued nothing in comparison of their money: the members had no
connection with the court; and the very idea which they conceived of the
trust committed to them, was, to reduce the demands of the crown, and
to grant as few supplies as possible. The crown, on the other hand,
conceived the parliament in no other light than as a means of supply.
Queen Elizabeth made a merit to her people of seldom summoning
parliaments.[*] No redress of grievances was expected from these
assemblies: they were supposed to meet for no other purpose than to
impose taxes.

Before the reign of Elizabeth, the English princes had usually recourse
to the city of Antwerp for voluntary loans; and their credit was so low,
that, besides paying the high interest of ten or twelve per cent., they
were obliged to make the city of London join in the security. Sir
Thomas Gresham, that great and enterprising merchant, one of the chief
ornaments of this reign, engaged the company of merchant-adventurers to
grant a loan to the queen; and as the money was regularly repaid, her
credit by degrees established itself in the city, and she shook off this
dependence on foreigners.[**]

In the year 1559, however, the queen employed Gresham to borrow for her
two hundred thousand pounds at Antwerp, in order to enable her to reform
the coin, which was at that time extremely debased.[***] She was so
impolitic as to make, herself, an innovation in the coin; by dividing a
pound of silver into sixty-two shillings, instead of sixty, the former
standard. This is the last time that the coin has been tampered with in
England.

* Strype, vol. iv. p. 124.

** Stowe's Survey of London, book i. p. 286.

*** MS. of Lord Royston's, from the paper office, p. 295.

Queen Elizabeth, sensible how much the defence of her kingdom depended
on its naval power, was desirous to encourage commerce and navigation:
but as her monopolies tended to extinguish all domestic industry, which
is much more valuable than foreign trade, and is the foundation of it,
the general train of her conduct was ill calculated to serve the purpose
at which she aimed, much less to promote the riches of her people. The
exclusive companies also were an immediate check on foreign trade.
Yet, notwithstanding these discouragements, the spirit of the age was
strongly bent on naval enterprises; and besides the military expeditions
against the Spaniards, many attempts were made for new discoveries, and
many new branches of foreign commerce were opened by the English. Sir
Martin Frobisher undertook three fruitless voyages to discover the
north-west passage: Davis, not discouraged by this ill success, made a
new attempt, when he discovered the straits which pass by his name.
In the year 1600, the queen granted the first patent to the East India
Company: the stock of that company was seventy-two thousand pounds; and
they fitted out four ships, under the command of James Lancaster, for
this new branch of trade. The adventure was successful; and the ships
returning with a rich cargo, encouraged the company to continue the
commerce.

The communication with Muscovy had been opened in Queen Mary's time
by the discovery of the passage to Archangel: but the commerce to that
country did not begin to be carried on to a great extent till about the
year 1569. The queen obtained from the czar an exclusive patent to
the English for the whole trade of Muscovy;[*] and she entered into a
personal as well as national alliance with him. This czar was named John
Basilides, a furious tyrant, who, continually suspecting the revolt
of his subjects, stipulated to have a safe retreat and protection in
England. In order the better to insure this resource, he purposed to
marry an English woman; and the queen intended to have sent him Lady
Anne Hastings; daughter of the earl of Huntingdon: but when the lady was
informed of the barbarous manners of the country, she wisely declined
purchasing an empire at the expense of her ease and safety.[**]

The English, encouraged by the privileges which they had obtained from
Basilides, ventured farther into those countries than any Europeans had
formerly done. They transported their goods along the River Dwina in
boats made of one entire tree, which they towed and rowed up the stream
as far as Walogda. Thence they carried their commodities seven days'
journey by land to Yeraslau, and then down the Volga to Astracan. At
Astracan they built ships, crossed the Caspian Sea, and distributed
their manufactures into Persia. But this bold attempt met with such
discouragements, that it was never renewed.[***]

* Camden, p. 408.

** Camden, p. 493.

*** Camden, p. 418.

After the death of John Basilides, his son Theodore revoked the patent
which the English enjoyed for a monopoly of the Russian trade: when the
queen remonstrated against this innovation, he told her ministers, that
princes must carry an indifferent hand, as well between their subjects
as between foreigners; and not convert trade, which, by the laws of
nations, ought to be common to all, into a monopoly for the private gain
of a few.[*] So much juster notions of commerce were entertained by this
barbarian than appear in the conduct of the renowned Queen Elizabeth!
Theodore, however, continued some privileges to the English, on account
of their being the discoverers of the communication between Europe and
his country.

The trade to Turkey commenced about the year 1583; and that commerce was
immediately confined to a company by Queen Elizabeth. Before that
time, the grand seignior had always conceived England to be a dependent
province of France;[**] but having heard of the queen's power and
reputation, he gave a good reception to the English, and even granted
them larger privileges than he had given to the French.

* Camden, p. 493.

** Birch's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 36

The merchants of the Hanse Towns complained loudly, in the beginning
of Elizabeth's reign, of the treatment which they had received in the
reigns of Edward and Mary. She prudently replied, that as she would not
innovate any thing, she would still protect them in the immunities and
privileges of which she found them possessed. This answer not contenting
them, their commerce was soon after suspended for a time, to the great
advantage of the English merchants, who tried what they could themselves
effect for promoting their commerce. They took the whole trade into
their own hands; and their returns proving successful, they divided
themselves into staplers and merchant adventurers; the former residing
constantly at one place, the latter trying their fortunes in other towns
and states abroad with cloth and other manufactures. This success
so enraged the Hanse Towns, that they tried all the methods which a
discontented people could devise, to draw upon the English merchants
the ill opinion of other nations and states. They prevailed so far as
to obtain an imperial edict, by which the English were prohibited all
commerce in the empire: the queen, by way of retaliation, retained sixty
of their ships, which had been seized in the River Tagus with contraband
goods of the Spaniards. These ships the queen intended to have restored,
as desiring to have compromised all differences with those trading
cities; but when she was informed, that a general assembly was held at
Lubec, in order to concert measures for distressing the English trade,
she caused the ships and cargoes to be confiscated: only two of them
were released to carry home the news, and to inform these states, that
she had the greatest contempt imaginable for all their proceedings.[*]

Henry VIII., in order to fit out a navy, was obliged to hire ships from
Hamburgh, Lubec, Dantzic, Genoa, and Venice, but Elizabeth, very early
in her reign, put affairs upon a better footing; both by building
some ships of her own, and by encouraging the merchants to build
large trading vessels which, on occasion, were converted into ships
of war.[**] In the year 1582, the seamen in England were found to be
fourteen thousand two hundred and ninety-five men;[***] the number of
vessels twelve hundred and thirty-two; of which there were only two
hundred and seventeen above eighty tons. Monson pretends, that though
navigation decayed in the first years of James I., by the practice of
the merchants, who carried on their trade in foreign bottoms,[****] yet,
before the year 1640, this number of seamen was tripled in England.[v]

The navy which the queen left at her decease appears considerable, when
we reflect only on the number of vessels, which were forty-two: but when
we consider that none of these ships carried above forty guns; that four
only came up to that number; that there were but two ships of a thousand
tons; and twenty-three below five hundred, some of fifty, and some even
of twenty tons; and that the whole number of guns belonging to the fleet
was seven hundred and seventy four;[v*] we must entertain a contemptible
idea of the English navy, compared to the force which it has now
attained.[*] In the year 1588, there were not above five vessels fitted
out by the noblemen and seaports, which exceeded two hundred tons.[v**]
[40]

* Lives of the Admirals, vol. i. p. 470.

** Camden, p. 388.

*** Monson, p. 256.

**** Monson, p. 300.

v Monson, p. 210, 256.

v* Monson, p. 196. The English navy at present carries about
fourteen thousand guns.

v** See note NN, at the end of the volume.
Monson, p. 300. Spaniards; and the queen equipped a
fleet and levied an army in a fortnight to oppose them.
Nothing gave foreigners a higher idea of the power of
England than this sudden armament.

In the year 1575, all the militia in the kingdom were computed at a
hundred and eighty-two thousand nine hundred and twenty-nine.[*] A
distribution was made, in the year 1595, of a hundred and forty thousand
men, besides those which Wales could supply.[**] These armies were
formidable by their numbers; but their discipline and experience were
not proportionate. Small bodies from Dunkirk and Newport frequently ran
over and plundered the east coast: so unfit was the militia, as it was
then constituted, for the defence of the kingdom. The lord lieutenants
were first appointed to the counties in this reign.

Mr. Murden[***] has published, from the Salisbury collections, a paper
which contains the military force of the nation at the time of the
Spanish armada, and which is somewhat different from the account given
by our ordinary historians. It makes all the able-bodied men of the
kingdom amount to a hundred and eleven thousand five hundred
and thirteen; those armed, to eighty thousand eight hundred and
seventy-five; of whom forty-four thousand seven hundred and twenty-seven
were trained. It must be supposed that these able-bodied men consisted
of such only as were registered, otherwise the small number is not to be
accounted for. Yet Sir Edward Coke[****] said, in the house of commons,
that he was employed about the same time, together with Popham, chief
justice, to take a survey of all the people of England, and that they
found them to be nine hundred thousand of all sorts. This number, by
the ordinary rules of computation, supposes that there were above
two hundred thousand men able to bear arms. Yet even this number is
surprisingly small. Can we suppose that the kingdom is six or seven
times more populous at present? and that Murden's was the real number of
men, excluding Catholics, and children, and infirm persons?

* Lives of the Admirals, vol. i. p. 432.

** Strype, vol. iv. p. 221

*** Page 608.

**** Journ. 25 April 1621.

Harrison says, that in the musters taken in the years 1574 and 1575, the
men fit for service amounted to one million one hundred and seventy-two
thousand six hundred and seventy-four; yet was it believed that a full
third was omitted. Such uncertainty and contradiction are there in all
these accounts.

Notwithstanding the greatness of this number, the same author complains
much of the decay of populousness; a vulgar complaint in all places and
all ages. Guicciardini makes the inhabitants of England in this reign
amount to two millions.

Whatever opinion we may form of the comparative populousness of England
in different periods, it must be allowed that, abstracting from the
national debt, there is a prodigious increase of power in that, more
perhaps than in any other European state, since the beginning of the
last century. It would be no paradox to affirm, that Ireland alone
could, at present, exert a greater force than all the three kingdoms
were capable of at the death of Queen Elizabeth. And we might go
further, and assert, that one good county in England is able to make, at
least to support, a greater effort than the whole kingdom was capable of
in the reign of Henry V.; when the maintenance of a garrison in a small
town like Calais, formed more than a third of the ordinary national
expense. Such are the effects of liberty, industry, and good government!

The state of the English manufactures was at this time very low; and
foreign wares of almost all kinds had the preference.[*] About the year
1590, there were in London four persons only rated in the subsidy books
so high as four hundred pounds.[**] This computation is not indeed to be
deemed an exact estimate of their wealth. In 1567, there were found, on
inquiry, to be four thousand eight hundred and fifty-one strangers
of all nations in London; of whom three thousand eight hundred and
thirty-eight were Flemings, and only fifty-eight Scots.[***] The
persecutions in France and the Low Countries drove afterwards a
greater number of foreigners into England; and the commerce, as well as
manufactures of that kingdom, was very much improved by them.[****]
It was then that Sir Thomas Gresham built, at his own charge, the
magnificent fabric of the Exchange for the reception of the merchants:
the queen visited it, and gave it the appellation of the Royal Exchange.

* D'Ewes, p. 505.

** D'Ewes, p. 497.

*** Haynes, p. 461, 462.

**** Stowe, p. 668.

By a lucky accident in language, which has a great effect on men's
ideas, the invidious word usury which formerly meant the taking of any
interest for money, came now to express only the taking of exorbitant
and illegal interest. An act passed in 1571 violently condemns all
usury; but permits ten per cent, interest to be paid. Henry IV. of
France reduced Interest to six and a half per cent.; an indication of
the great advance of France above England in commerce.

Dr. Howell says,[*] that Queen Elizabeth, in the third of her reign, was
presented with a pair of black silk knit stockings by her silk-woman,
and never wore cloth hose any more. The author of the Present State of
England, says, that about 1577, pocket watches were first brought into
England from Germany. They are thought to have been invented at Nurem
berg. About 1580, the use of coaches was introduced by the earl of
Arundel.[**] Before that time, the queen, on public occasions, rode
behind her chamberlain.

Camden says, that in 1581, Randolph, so much employed by the queen
in foreign embassies, possessed the office of postmaster-general of
England. It appears, therefore, that posts were then established;
though from Charles I.'s regulations in 1635, it would seem that few
post-houses were erected before that time.

In a remonstrance of the Hanse Towns to the diet of the empire, in 1582,
it is affirmed that England exported annually about two hundred thousand
pieces of cloth.[***] This number seems to be much exaggerated.

In the fifth of this reign was enacted the first law for the relief of
the poor.

A judicious author of that age confirms the vulgar observation, that the
kingdom was depopulating, from the increase of enclosures and decay of
tillage; and he ascribes the reason very justly to the restraints put
oh the exportation of corn; while full liberty was allowed to export
all the produce of pasturage, such as wool, hides, leather, tallow, etc.
These prohibitions of exportation were derived from the prerogative, and
were very injudicious. The queen once, on the commencement of her reign,
had tried a contrary practice, and with good success. From the same
author we learn, that the complaints renewed in our time were then very
common, concerning the high prices of every thing.[****]

* History of the World, vol. ii. p. 222.

** Anderson, vol. i. p. 421.

*** Anderson, voL i. p. 424.

**** A compendious or brief Examination of certain ordinary
Complaints of divers of our Countrymen. The author says,
that in twenty or thirty years before 1581, commodities had
in general risen fifty per cent.; some more. "Cannot you,
neighbor, remember," say she "that, indeed, to have been two
periods, in which prices rose remarkably in England;" namely,
that in Queen Elizabeth's reign, when they are computed to
have doubled, and that in the present age. Between the two,
there seems to have been a stagnation. It would appear, that
industry, during that intermediate period, increased as fast
as gold and silver, and kept commodities nearly at a par
with money.

There were two attempts made in this reign to settle colonies in
America; one by Sir Humphrey Gilbert in Newfoundland, another by
Sir Walter Raleigh in Virginia: but neither of these projects proved
successful. All those noble settlements were made in the following
reigns. The current specie of the kingdom, in the end of this reign, is
computed at four millions.[*]

The earl of Leicester desired Sir Francis Walsingham, then ambassador in
France, to provide him with a riding master in that country, to whom
he promises a hundred pounds a year, besides maintaining himself and
servant and a couple of horses. "I know," adds the earl, "that such a
man as I want may receive higher wages in France: but let him consider,
that a shilling in England goes as far as two shillings in France." [**]
It is known that every thing is much changed since that time.

The nobility in this age still supported, in some degree, the ancient
magnificence in their hospitality, and in the numbers of their
retainers; and the queen found it prudent to retrench, by proclamation,
their expenses in this last particular.[***] The expense of hospitality
she somewhat encouraged, by the frequent visits she paid her nobility,
and the sumptuous feasts which she received from them.

"I could, in this town, buy the best pig or goose I could
lay my hands on for fourpence, which now costeth
twelvepence; a good capon for threepence or fourpence; a
chicken for a penny; a hen for twopence?" (p. 35.) "Yet the
price of ordinary labor was then eightpence a day," (p. 31.)

* Lives of the Admirals, vol. i. p. 475.

** Digges's Complete Ambassador.

*** Strype, vol. iii. Append, p. 54.

Harrison, after enumerating the queen's palaces, adds, "But what shall
I need to take upon me to repeat all, and tell what houses the queen's
majesty hath? Sith all is hers; and when it pleaseth her in the summer
season to recreate herself abroad, and view the estate of the country,
and hear the complaints of her poor commons injured by her unjust
officers or their substitutes, every nobleman's house is her palace,
where she continueth during pleasure and tell her an entertainment in
Kenilworth Castle, which was extraordinary for expense and magnificence."
Among other particulars, we are told that three hundred and sixty-five
hogsheads of beer were drunk at it.[*] The earl had fortified this
castle at great expense; and it contained arms for ten thousand men.[**]
The earl of Derby had a family consisting of two hundred and forty
servants.[***] Stowe remarks it as a singular proof of beneficence in
this nobleman, that he was contented with his rent from his tenants, and
exacted not any extraordinary services from them; a proof that the great
power of the sovereign (what was almost unavoidable) had very generally
countenanced the nobility in tyrannizing over the people. Burleigh,
though he was frugal, and had no paternal estate, kept a family
consisting of a hundred servants.[****] He had a standing table for
gentlemen, and two other tables for persons of meaner condition, which
were always served alike, whether he were in town or in the country.
About his person he had people of great distinction; insomuch that
he could reckon up twenty gentlemen retainers who had each a thousand
pounds a year; and as many among his ordinary servants who were
worth from a thousand pounds to three, five, ten, and twenty thousand
pounds.[v] It is to be remarked, that though the revenues of the crown
were at that time very small, the ministers and courtiers sometimes
found means, by employing the boundless prerogative, to acquire greater
fortunes than it is possible for them at present to amass, from their
larger salaries, and more limited authority.

Burleigh entertained the queen twelve several times in his country
house; where she remained three, four, or five weeks at a time. Each
visit cost him two or three thousand pounds.[v*] The quantity of silver
plate possessed by this nobleman is surprising; no less than fourteen or
fifteen thousand pounds weight;[v**] which, besides the fashion, would
be above forty-two thousand pounds sterling in value. Yet Burleigh left
only four thousand pounds a year in land, and eleven thousand pounds in
money; and as land was then commonly sold at ten years' purchase, his
plate was nearly equal to all the rest of his fortune. It appears that
little value was then put upon the fashion of the plate, which probably
was but rude: the weight was chiefly considered.

*"She return again to some of her own, in which she
remaineth so long as she pleaseth." Book ii. chap. 15.
Surely one may say of such a guest, what Cicero says to
Atticus, on occasion of a visit paid him by Cæsar. "Hospes
tamen non is cui diceres, Amabo te, eodem ad me cum
revertêre." Lib. xiii. Ep. 52. If she relieved the people
from oppressions, (to whom it seems the law could give no
relief,) her visits were a great oppression on the nobility.

** Biogr. Brit. vol. iii. p. 1791.

*** Strype, vol. iii. p. 394.

**** Stowe, p. 674.

v Strype, vol. iii. p. 129. Append.

v* Life of Burleigh, published by Collins.

v** Life of Burleigh published by Collins, p. 40.

But though there were preserved great remains of the ancient customs,
the nobility were by degrees acquiring a taste for elegant luxury;
and many edifices, in particular were built by them, neat, large, and
sumptuous; to the great ornament of the kingdom, says Camden,[*] [41]
but to the no less decay of the glorious hospitality of the nation. It
is, however, more reasonable to think, that this new turn of expense
promoted arts and industry; while the ancient hospitality was the source
of vice, disorder, sedition, and idleness.[**]

Among the other species of luxury, that of apparel began much to
increase during this age; and the queen thought proper to restrain it
by proclamation.[***] Her example was very little conformable to her
edicts. As no woman was ever more conceited of her beauty, or more
desirous of making impression on the hearts of beholders, no one ever
went to a greater extravagance in apparel, or studied more the variety
and richness of her dresses. She appeared almost every day in a
different habit; and tried all the several modes by which she hoped to
render herself agreeable. She was also so fond of her clothes, that
she never could part with any of them; and at her death she had in her
wardrobe all the different habits, to the number of three thousand,
which she had ever worn in her lifetime.[****] [42]

* See note OO, at the end of the volume.

** This appears from Burleigh's will: he specifies only the
number of ounces to be given to each legatee, and appoints a
goldsmith to see it weighed out to them, without making any
distinction of the pieces.

**** See note PP, at the end of the volume.

The retrenchment of the ancient hospitality, and the diminution of
retainers, were favorable to the prerogative of the sovereign; and, by
disabling the great noblemen from resistance, promoted the execution
of the laws, and extended the authority of the courts of justice. There
were many peculiar causes in the situation and character of Henry
VII. which augmented the authority of the crown: most of these causes
concurred in succeeding princes; together with the factions in religion,
and the acquisition of the supremacy, a most important article of
prerogative: but the manners of the age were a general cause, which
operated during this whole period, and which continually tended to
diminish the riches, and still more the influence, of the aristocracy,
anciently so formidable to the crown. The habits of luxury dissipated
the immense fortunes of the ancient barons: and as the new methods of
expense gave subsistence to mechanics and merchants, who lived in an
independent manner on the fruits of their own industry, a nobleman,
instead of that unlimited ascendant which he was wont to assume over
those who were maintained at his board, or subsisted by salaries
conferred on them, retained only that moderate influence which
customers have over tradesmen, and which can never be dangerous to civil
government. The landed proprietors also, having a greater demand for
money than for men, endeavored to turn their lands to the best account
with regard to profit; and either enclosing their fields, or joining
many small farms into a few large ones, dismissed those useless hands
which formerly were always at their call in every attempt to subvert the
government, or oppose a neighboring baron. By all these means the cities
increased; the middle rank of men began to be rich and powerful; the
prince, who in effect was the same with the law, was implicitly obeyed:
and though the further progress of the same causes begat a new plan of
liberty, founded on the privileges of the commons, yet in the interval
between the fall of the nobles and the rise of this order, the sovereign
took advantage of the present situation, and assumed an authority almost
absolute.

Whatever may be commonly imagined, from the authority of Lord Bacon,
and from that of Harrington, and later authors the laws of Henry VII.
contributed very little towards the great revolution which happened
about this period in the English constitution. The practice of breaking
entails by a fine and recovery, had been introduced in the preceding
reigns; and this prince only gave indirectly a legal sanction to the
practice, by reforming some abuses which attended it. But the settled
authority which he acquired to the crown enabled the sovereign to
encroach on the separate jurisdictions of the barons, and produced a
more general and regular execution of the laws. The counties palatine
underwent the same fate as the feudal powers; and, by a statute of Henry
VIII.,[*] the jurisdiction of these counties was annexed to the crown,
and all writs were ordained to run in the king's name. But the change of
manners was the chief cause of the secret revolution of government, and
subverted the power of the barons. There appear still in this reign some
remains of the ancient slavery of the boors and peasants,[*] but none
afterwards.

Learning, on its revival, was held in high estimation by the English
princes and nobles; and as it was not yet prostituted by being too
common, even the great deemed it an object of ambition to attain a
character for literature. The four successive sovereigns, Henry, Edward,
Mary, and Elizabeth, may, on one account or other, be admitted into
the class of authors. Queen Catharine Parr translated a book: Lady Jane
Gray, considering her age, and her sex, and her station, may be regarded
as a prodigy of literature. Sir Thomas Smith was raised from being
professor in Cambridge, first to be ambassador to France, then secretary
of state. The despatches of those times, and among others those of
Burleigh himself, are frequently interlarded with quotations from the
Greek and Latin classics. Even the ladies of the court valued themselves
on knowledge: Lady Burleigh, Lady Bacon, and their two sisters, were
mistresses of the ancient as well as modern languages; and placed more
pride in their erudition than in their rank and quality.

Queen Elizabeth wrote and translated several books: and she was
familiarly acquainted with the Greek as well as Latin tongue.[**] [43]

* 27 Henry VIII. c. 24.

** See note QQ, at the end of the volume.

It is pretended that she made an extemporary reply in Greek to the
university of Cambridge, who had addressed her in that language. It is
certain that she answered in Latin without premeditation, and in a
very spirited manner, to the Polish ambassador, who had been wanting
in respect to her. When she had finished, she turned about to her
courtiers, and said, "God's death, my lords," (for she was much addicted
to swearing,) "I have been forced this day to scour up my old Latin,
that hath long lain rusting."[*]

* Speed.

Elizabeth, even after she was queen, did not entirely drop the ambition
of appearing as an author; and, next to her desire of admiration for
beauty, this seems to have been the chief object of her vanity. She
translated Boethius of the Consolation of Philosophy; in order, as she
pretended, to allay her grief for Henry IV.'s change of religion. As far
us we can judge from Elizabeth's compositions, we may pronounce that,
notwithstanding her application, and her excellent parts, her taste in
literature was but indifferent: she was much inferior to her successor
in this particular, who was himself no perfect model of eloquence.

Unhappily for literature, at least for the learned of this age,
the queen's vanity lay more in shining by her own learning, than in
encouraging men of genius by her liberality. Spenser himself, the finest
English writer of his age, was long neglected; and after the death of
Sir Philip Sidney, his patron, was allowed to die almost for want. This
poet contains great beauties, a sweet and harmonious versification, easy
elocution, a fine imagination; yet does the perusal of his work become
so tedious, that one never finishes it from the mere pleasure which it
affords; it soon becomes a kind of task-reading, and it requires some
effort and resolution to carry us on to the end of his long performance.
This effect, of which every one is conscious, is usually ascribed to the
change of manners: but manners have more changed since Homer's age; and
yet that poet remains still the favorite of every reader of taste and
judgment. Homer copied true natural manners, which, however rough or
uncultivated, will always form an agreeable and interesting picture; but
the pencil of the English poet was employed in drawing the affectations,
and conceits, and fopperies of chivalry, which appear ridiculous as
soon as they lose the recommendation of the mode. The tediousness of
continued allegory, and that, too, seldom striking or ingenious, has
also contributed to render the Fairy Queen peculiarly tiresome; not to
mention the too great frequency of its descriptions, and the languor of
its stanza. Upon the whole, Spenser maintains his place upon the shelves
among our English classics; but he is seldom seen on the table; and
there is scarcely any one, if he dares to be ingenuous, but will
confess, that, notwithstanding all the merit of the poet, he affords an
entertainment with which the palate is soon satiated. Several writers of
late have amused themselves in copying the style of Spenser; and no
imitation has been so indifferent as not to bear a great resemblance to
the original: his manner is so peculiar that it is almost impossible not
to transfer some of it into the copy.

CHAPTER XLV.

[Illustration: 1-560-james1.jpg JAMES I.]

JAMES I.

{1603.} The crown of England was never transmitted from father to son
with greater tranquillity than it passed from the family of Tudor to
that of Stuart. During the whole reign of Elizabeth, the eyes of men
had been employed in search of her successor; and when old age made the
prospect of her death more immediate, there appeared none but the king
of Scots who could advance any just claim or pretension to the throne.
He was great-grandson of Margaret, elder daughter of Henry VII.; and,
on the failure of the male line, his hereditary right remained
unquestionable. If the religion of Mary queen of Scots, and the other
prejudices contracted against her, had formed any considerable obstacle
to her succession, these objections, being entirely personal, had no
place with regard to her son. Men also considered, that though the
title derived from blood had been frequently violated since the Norman
conquest, such licenses had proceeded more from force or intrigue than
from any deliberate maxims of government. The lineal heir had still
in the end prevailed: and both his exclusion and restoration had been
commonly attended with such convulsions as were sufficient to warn all
prudent men not lightly to give way to such irregularities. If the will
of Henry VIII., authorized by act of parliament, had tacitly excluded
the Scottish line, the tyranny and caprices of that monarch had been
so signal, that a settlement of this nature, unsupported by any just
reason, had no authority with the people. Queen Elizabeth, too, with her
dying breath, had recognized the undoubted title of her kinsman James;
and the whole nation seemed to dispose themselves with joy and pleasure
for his reception. Though born and educated amidst a foreign and hostile
people, men hoped, from his character of moderation and wisdom, that he
would embrace the maxims of an English monarch; and the prudent
foresaw greater advantages resulting from a union with Scotland, than
disadvantages from submitting to a prince of that nation. The alacrity
with which the English looked towards the successor had appeared so
evident to Elizabeth, that, concurring, with other causes, it affected
her with the deepest melancholy; and that wise princess, whose
penetration and experience had given her the greatest insight into human
affairs, had not yet, sufficiently weighed the ingratitude of courtiers
and levity of the people.

As victory abroad and tranquillity at home had attended this princess,
she left the nation in such flourishing circumstances, that her
successor possessed every advantage, except that of comparison with
her illustrious name, when he mounted the throne of England. The king's
journey from Edinburgh to London immediately afforded to the inquisitive
some circumstances of comparison, which even the natural partiality in
favor of their new sovereign could not interpret to his advantage. As
he passed along, all ranks of men flocked about him from every quarter,
allured by interest or curiosity. Great were the rejoicings, and loud
and hearty the acclamations, which resounded from all sides; and every
one could remember how the affability and popular manners of their
queen displayed themselves amidst such concourse and exultation of her
subjects. But James, though sociable and familiar with his friends and
courtiers, hated the bustle of a mixed multitude; and though far from
disliking flattery, yet was he still fonder of tranquillity and ease. He
issued, therefore, a proclamation, forbidding this resort of people,
on pretence of the scarcity of provisions, and other inconveniencies,
which, he said, would necessarily attend it.[*]

* Kennet, p. 662.

He was not, however, insensible to the great flow of affection which
appeared in his new subjects; and being himself of an affectionate
temper, he seems to have been in haste to make them some return of
kindness and good offices. To this motive, probably, we are to ascribe
that profusion of titles which was observed in the beginning of his
reign; when, in six weeks' time after his entrance into the kingdom, he
is computed to have bestowed knighthood on no less than two hundred and
thirty-seven persons. If Elizabeth's frugality of honors, as well as
of money, had formerly been repined at, it began now to be valued and
esteemed, and every one was sensible that the king, by his lavish and
premature conferring of favors, had failed of obliging the persons on
whom he bestowed them. Titles of all kinds became so common, that they
were scarcely marks of distinction; and being distributed, without
choice or deliberation, to persons unknown to the prince, were regarded
more as the proofs of facility and good nature, than of any determined
friendship or esteem.

A pasquinade was affixed to St. Paul's, in which an art was promised
to be taught, very necessary to assist frail memories in retaining the
names of the new nobility.[*]

We may presume that the English would have thrown less blame on the
king's facility in bestowing favors, had these been confined entirely
to their own nation, and had not been shared out, in too unequal
proportions, to his old subjects. James, who, through his whole reign,
was more guided by temper and inclination than by the rules of political
prudence, had brought with him great numbers of his Scottish courtiers,
whose impatience and importunity were apt, in many particulars, to
impose on the easy nature of their master, and extort favors of which,
it is natural to imagine, his English subjects would loudly complain.
The duke of Lenox, the earl of Marre, Lord Hume, Lord Kinloss, Sir
George Hume, Secretary Elphinstone,[**] were immediately added to the
English privy council. Sir George Hume, whom he created earl of Dunbar,
was his declared favorite as long as that nobleman lived, and was one
of the wisest and most virtuous, though the least powerful, of all those
whom the king ever honored with that distinction. Hay, some time after,
was created Viscount Doncaster, then earl of Carlisle, and got an
immense fortune from the crown, all which he spent in a splendid and
courtly manner. Ramsay obtained the title of earl of Holderness;
and many others being raised on a sudden to the highest elevation,
increased, by their insolence, that envy which naturally attended them
as strangers and ancient enemies.

* Wilson, in Kennet, p. 665.

** Wilson, in Kennet, p. 662.

It must, however, be owned, in justice to James, that he left almost all
the chief offices in the hands of Elizabeth's ministers, and trusted the
conduct of political concerns, both foreign and domestic, to his English
subjects. Among these, Secretary Cecil, created successively Lord
Effindon, Viscount Cranborne, and earl of Salisbury, was always regarded
as his prime minister and chief counsellor. Though the capacity and
penetration of this minister were sufficiently known, his favor with
the king created surprise on the accession of that monarch. The secret
correspondence into which he had entered with James, and which had
sensibly contributed to the easy reception of that prince in England,
laid the foundation of Cecil's credit; and while all his former
associates, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Grey, Lord Cobham, were
discountenanced on account of their animosity against Essex, as well
as for other reasons, this minister was continued in employment, and
treated with the greatest confidence and regard.

The capacity of James and his ministers in negotiation was immediately
put to trial on the appearance of ambassadors from almost all the
princes and states of Europe, in order to congratulate him on his
accession, and form with him new treaties and alliances. Besides
ministers from Venice, Denmark, the Palatinate; Henry Frederic of
Nassau, assisted by Barnevelt, the pensionary of Holland, was ambassador
from the states of the United Provinces. Aremberg was sent by Archduke
Albert, and Taxis was expected in a little time from Spain. But he who
most excited the attention of the public, both on account of his own
merit and that of his master, was the marquis of Rosni, afterwards duke
of Sully, prime minister and favorite of Henry IV. of France.

When the dominions of the house of Austria devolved on Philip II., all
Europe was struck with terror, lest the power of a family, which had
been raised by fortune, should now be carried to an immeasurable height
by the wisdom and conduct of this monarch. But never were apprehensions
found in the event to be more groundless. Slow without prudence,
ambitious without enterprise, false without deceiving any body, and
refined without any true judgment; such was the character of Philip, and
such the character which, during his lifetime, and after his death, he
impressed on the Spanish councils. Revolted or depopulated provinces,
discontented or indolent inhabitants, were the spectacles which those
dominions, lying in every climate of the globe, presented to Philip
III., a weak prince, and to the duke of Lerma, a minister weak and
odious. But though military discipline, which still remained, was what
alone gave some appearance of life and vigor to that languishing body,
yet so great was the terror produced by former power and ambition,
that the reduction of the house of Austria was the object of men's vows
throughout all the states of Christendom. It was not perceived, that the
French empire, now united in domestic peace, and governed by the most
heroic and most amiable prince that adorns modern story, was become, of
itself, a sufficient counterpoise to the Spanish greatness. Perhaps that
prince himself did not perceive it, when he proposed, by his minister, a
league with James, in conjunction with Venice, the United Provinces, and
the northern crowns, in order to attack the Austrian dominions on every
side, and depress the exorbitant power of that ambitious family.[*]
But the genius of the English monarch was not equal to such vast
enterprises. The love of peace was his ruling passion; and it was his
peculiar felicity, that the conjunctures of the times rendered the same
object which was agreeable to him in the highest degree advantageous to
his people.

The French ambassador, therefore, was obliged to depart from these
extensive views, and to concert with James the means of providing for
the safety of the United Provinces: nor was this object altogether
without its difficulties. The king, before his accession, had
entertained scruples with regard to the revolt of the Low Countries; and
being commonly open and sincere,[**] he had, on many occasions, gone so
far as to give to the Dutch the appellation of rebels; [***] but having
conversed more fully with English ministers and courtiers, he found
their attachment to that republic so strong, and their opinion of common
interest so established, that he was obliged to sacrifice to politics
his sense of justice; a quality which, even when erroneous, is
respectable as well as rare in a monarch.

* Sully's Memoirs.

** La Boderie, voL i. p. 120.

*** Winwood, vol. ii. p 55.

He therefore agreed with Rosni to support secretly the states general,
in concert with the king of France; lest their weakness and despair
should oblige them to submit to their old master. The articles of the
treaty were few and simple. It was stipulated, that the two kings should
allow the Dutch to levy forces in their respective dominions; and should
underhand remit to that republic the sum of one million four hundred
thousand livres a year, for the pay of these forces: that the whole
sum should be advanced by the king of France; but that the third of it
should be deducted from the debt due by him to Queen Elizabeth. And if
the Spaniards attacked either of the princes, they agreed to assist each
other; Henry with a force of ten thousand men, James with that of six.
This treaty, one of the wisest and most equitable concluded by James
during the course of his reign was more the work of the prince himself,
than any of his ministers.[*]

Amidst the great tranquillity, both foreign and domestic with which the
nation was blest, nothing could be more surprising than the discovery
of a conspiracy to subvert the government, and to fix on the throne
Arabella Stuart, a near relation of the king's by the family of
Lenox, and descended equally from Henry VII. Every thing remains still
mysterious in this conspiracy; and history can give us no clew to
unravel it. Watson and Clarke, two Catholic priests, were accused of the
plot; Lord Grey, a Puritan; Lord Cobham, a thoughtless man, of no fixed
principle; and Sir Walter Raleigh, suspected to be of that philosophical
sect who were then extremely rare in England, and who have since
received the appellation of "Free-thinkers;" together with these, Mr.
Broke, brother to Lord Cobham, Sir Griffin Markham, Mr. Copeley, Sir
Edward Parham. What cement could unite men of-such discordant principles
in so dangerous a combination, what end they proposed, or what means
proportioned to an undertaking of this nature, has never yet been
explained, and cannot easily be imagined. As Raleigh, Grey, and Cobham
were commonly believed, after the queen's death, to have opposed
proclaiming the king till conditions should be made with him, they were,
upon that account, extremely obnoxious to the court and ministry;
and people were apt, at first, to suspect that the plot was merely a
contrivance of Secretary Cecil, to get rid of his old confederates,
now become his most inveterate enemies. But the confession, as well as
trial, of the criminals, put the matter beyond doubt.[**] And though no
one could find any marks of a concerted enterprise, it appeared that
men of furious and ambitious spirits, meeting frequently together, and
believing all the world discontented like themselves, had entertained
very criminal projects, and had even entered, some of them at least,
into a correspondence with Aremberg, the Flemish ambassador in order to
give disturbance to the new settlement.

* Sully's Memoirs.

** State Trials, p. 180, 2d edit. Winwood, vol. ii. p. 8,11.

The two priests[*] and Broke[**] were executed: Cobham, Grey, and
Markham were pardoned,[***] after they had laid their heads upon the
block.[****] Raleigh too was reprieved, not pardoned; and he remained in
confinement many years afterwards.

It appears from Sully's Memoirs, that Raleigh secretly offered his
services to the French ambassador; and we may thence presume that,
meeting with a repulse from that quarter, he had recourse, for the same
unwarrantable purposes, to the Flemish minister. Such a conjecture we
are now enabled to form; but it must be confessed, that on his trial
there appeared no proof of this transaction, nor indeed any circumstance
which could justify his condemnation. He was accused by Cobham alone, in
a sudden fit of passion, upon hearing that Raleigh, when examined, had
pointed out some circumstances by which Cobham's guilt might be known
and ascertained. This accusation Cobham afterwards retracted; and, soon
after, he retracted his retractation. Yet upon the written evidence
of this single witness, a man of no honor or understanding, and so
contradictory in his testimony; not confronted with Raleigh; not
supported by any concurring circumstance; was that great man, contrary
to all law and equity, found guilty by the jury. His name was at that
time extremely odious in England; and every man was pleased to give
sentence against the capital enemy of Essex, the favorite of the people.

Sir Edward Coke, the famous lawyer, then attorney-general, managed the
cause for the crown, and threw out on Raleigh such gross abuse, as may
be deemed a great reflection, not only on his own memory, but even, in
some degree, on the manners of the age. Traitor, monster, viper, and
spider of hell, are the terms which he employs against one of the
most illustrious men of the kingdom, who was under trial for life
and fortune, and who defended himself with temper, eloquence, and
courage.[v]

* November 29.

** December 5.

*** December 9.

**** Winwood, vol. ii p. 11.

v State Trials, 1st edit. p. 176, 177, 182.

{1604.} The next occupation of the king was entirely according to
his heart's content. He was employed in dictating magisterially to an
assembly of divines concerning points of faith and discipline, and in
receiving the applauses of these holy men for his superior zeal and
learning. The religious disputes between the church and the Puritans
had induced him to call a conference at Hampton Court, on pretence of
finding expedients which might reconcile both parties.

Though the severities of Elizabeth towards the Catholics had much
weakened that party, whose genius was opposite to the prevailing spirit
of the nation, like severities had had so little influence on the
Puritans, who were encouraged by that spirit, that no less than seven
hundred and fifty clergymen of that party signed a petition to the king
on his accession; and many more seemed willing to adhere to it.[*]

* Fuller, book x. Collier, vol. ii. p. 672.

They all hoped that James, having received his education in Scotland,
and having sometimes professed an attachment to the church established
there, would at least abate the rigor of the laws enacted in support of
the ceremonies, and against Puritans; if he did not show more particular
grace and encouragement to that sect. But the king's disposition had
taken strongly a contrary bias. The more he knew the Puritanical clergy,
the less favor he bore to them. He had remarked in their Scottish
brethren a violent turn towards republicanism, and a zealous attachment
to civil liberty; principles nearly allied to that religious enthusiasm
with which they were actuated. He had found, that being mostly persons
of low birth and mean education, the same lofty pretensions which
attended them in their familiar addresses to their Maker, of whom they
believed themselves the peculiar favorites, induced them to use the
utmost freedoms with their earthly sovereign. In both capacities, of
monarch and of theologian, he had experienced the little complaisance
which they were disposed to show him; whilst they controlled his
commands, disputed his tenets, and to his face, before the whole people,
censured his conduct and behavior. If he had submitted to the indignity
of courting their favor, he treasured up, on that account, the stronger
resentment against them, and was determined to make them feel, in
their turn, the weight of his authority. Though he had often met with
resistance, and faction, and obstinacy in the Scottish nobility, he
retained no ill will to that order; or rather showed them favor and
kindness in England, beyond what reason and sound policy could well
justify; but the ascendant which the Presbyterian clergy had assumed
over him, was what his monarchical pride could never thoroughly
digest.[*]

* James ventured to say, in his Basilicon Duron, published
while he was in Scotland, "I protest before the great God,
and since I am here as upon my Testament, it is no place for
me to lie in, that ye shall never find with any highland or
borderer thieves, greater in gratitude, and more lies and
vile perjuries, than with these fanatic spirits: and suffer
not the principal of them to brook your land,"--King James's
Works, p. 161.

He dreaded likewise the popularity which attended this order of men in
both kingdoms. As useless austerities and self-denial are imagined,
in many religions, to render us acceptable to a benevolent Being,
who created us solely for happiness, James remarked, that the rustic
severity of these clergymen, and of their whole sect, had given them,
in the eyes of the multitude, the appearance of sanctity and virtue.
Strongly inclined himself to mirth, and wine, and sports of all
kinds, he apprehended their censure for his manner of life, free and
disengaged. And being thus averse, from temper as well as policy, to the
sect of Puritans, he was resolved, if possible, to prevent its further
growth in England.

But it was the character of James's councils, throughout his whole
reign, that they were more wise and equitable in their end, than prudent
and political in the means. Though justly sensible that no part of
civil administration required greater care or a nicer judgment than the
conduct of religious parties, he had not perceived that, in the same
proportion as this practical knowledge of theology is requisite, the
speculative refinements in it are mean, and even dangerous in a monarch.
By entering zealously into frivolous disputes, James gave them an air of
importance and dignity which they could not otherwise have acquired; and
being himself enlisted in the quarrel, he could no longer have recourse
to contempt and ridicule, the only proper method of appeasing it. The
church of England had not yet abandoned the rigid doctrines of grace and
pre-destination: the puritans had not yet separated themselves from
the church, nor openly renounced Episcopacy. Though the spirit of the
parties was considerably different, the only appearing subjects of
dispute were concerning the cross in baptism, the ring in marriage, the
use of the surplice, and the bowing at the name of Jesus. These were
the mighty questions which were solemnly agitated in the conference at
Hampton Court between some bishops and dignified clergymen on the one
hand, and some leaders of the Puritanical party on the other, the king
and his ministers being present.[*]

The Puritans were here so unreasonable as to complain of a partial and
unfair management of the dispute; as if the search after truth were in
any degree the object of such conferences, and a candid indifference, so
rare even among private inquirers in philosophical questions, could ever
be expected among princes and prelates, in a theological controversy.
The king, it must be confessed, from the beginning of the conference,
showed the strongest propensity to the established church, and
frequently inculcated a maxim which, though it has some foundation,
is to be received with great limitations, "No bishop, no king." The
bishops, in their turn, were very liberal of their praises towards
the royal disputant; and the archbishop of Canterbury said, that
"undoubtedly his majesty spake by the special assistance of God's
Spirit."[**] A few alterations in the liturgy were agreed to, and both
parties separated with mutual dissatisfaction.

It had frequently been the practice of the Puritans to form certain
assemblies, which they called "prophesyings;" where alternately, as
moved by the spirit, they displayed their pious zeal in prayers and
exhortations, and raised their own enthusiasm, as well as that of their
audience, to the highest pitch, from that social contagion which has so
mighty an influence on holy fervors, and from the mutual emulation which
arose in those trials of religious eloquence. Such dangerous societies
had been suppressed by Elizabeth; and the ministers in this conference
moved the king for their revival. But James sharply replied, "If you aim
at a Scottish presbytery, it agrees as well with monarchy as God and the
devil. There Jack and Tom, and Will and Dick, shall meet and censure
me and my council. Therefore I reiterate my former speech: Le roi
s'avisera. Stay, I pray, for one seven years, before you demand; and
then, if you find me grow pursy and fat, I may perchance hearken unto
you. For that government will keep me in breath, and give me work
enough."[***] Such were the political considerations which determined
the king in his choice among religious parties.

* Fuller's Ecclesiastical History.

** Kennet, p. 665.

*** Fuller's Ecclesiastical History.

The next assembly in which James displayed his learning and eloquence,
was one that showed more spirit of liberty than appeared among his
bishops and theologians The parliament was now ready to assemble;
being so long delayed on account of the plague, which had broken out in
London, and raged to such a degree, that above thirty thousand persons
are computed to have died of it in a year; though the city contained at
that time little more than one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants.

The speech which the king made on opening the parliament, fully displays
his character, and proves him to have possessed more knowledge
and better parts, than prudence, or any just sense of decorum and
propriety.[*] Though few productions of the age surpass this performance
either in style or matter, it wants that majestic brevity and reserve
which become a king in his addresses to the great council of the nation.
It contains, however, a remarkable stroke of candor, where he confesses
his too great facility in yielding to the solicitations of suitors:[**]
a fault which he promises to correct, but which adhered to him, and
distressed him, during the whole course of his reign.

The first business in which the commons were engaged was of the utmost
importance to the preservation of their privileges; and neither temper
nor resolution was wanting in their conduct of it.

In the former periods of the English government, the house of commons
was of so small weight in the balance of the constitution, that little
attention had been given either by the crown, the people, or the house
itself, to the choice and continuance of the members. It had been usual,
after parliaments were prolonged beyond one session, for the chancellor
to exert a discretionary authority of issuing new writs to supply the
place of any members whom he judged incapable of attending, either on
account of their employment, their sickness, or other impediment. This
practice gave that minister, and consequently the prince, an unlimited
power of modelling at pleasure the representatives of the nation; yet so
little jealousy had it created, that the commons of themselves, without
any court influence or intrigue, and contrary to some former votes of
their own, confirmed it in the twenty-third of Elizabeth.[***]

* King James's Works, p. 484, 485, etc. Journ. 22d March,
1603. Kennet, p. 668.

** King James's Works, p. 495, 496.

*** Journ. January 19th, 1580.

At that time, though some members, whose places had been supplied on
account of sickness, having now recovered their health, appeared in the
house and claimed their seat, such was the authority of the chancellor,
that, merely out of respect to him, his sentence was adhered to, and
the new members were continued in their places. Here a most dangerous
prerogative was conferred on the crown: but to show the genius of that
age, or rather the channels in which power then ran, the crown put very
little value on this authority; insomuch that two days afterwards the
chancellor of himself resigned it back to the commons, and gave them
power to judge of a particular vacancy in their house. And when the
question concerning the chancellor's new writs was again brought on
the carpet towards the end of the session, the commons were so little
alarmed at the precedent, that though they readmitted some old members,
whose seats had been vacated on account of slight indispositions,
yet they confirmed the chancellor's sentence, in instances where the
distemper appeared to have been dangerous and incurable.[*]

* Journ. March 18th, 1580. See further, D'Ewes, p 430.

Nor did they proceed any further in vindication of their privileges than
to vote, "That during the sitting of parliament, there do not, at any
time, any writ go out for choosing or returning any member without the
warrant of the house." In Elizabeth's reign, we may remark, and the
reigns preceding, sessions of parliament were not usually the twelfth
part so long as the vacations; and during the latter, the chancellor's
power, if he pleased to exert it, was confirmed, at least left, by this
vote, as unlimited and unrestrained as ever.

In a subsequent parliament, the absolute authority of the queen was
exerted in a manner still more open; and began for the first time
to give alarm to the commons. New writs having been issued by the
chancellor when there was no vacancy, and a controversy arising upon
that incident, the queen sent a message to the house, informing them
that it were impertinent for them to deal in such matters. These
questions, she said, belonged only to the chancellor; and she had
appointed him to confer with the judges, in order to settle all disputes
with regard to elections. The commons had the courage, a few days after,
to vote, "That it was a most perilous precedent, where two knights of a
county were duly elected, if any new writ should issue out for a second
election without order of the house itself: that the discussing and
adjudging of this and such like differences belonged only to the house;
and that there should be no message sent to the lord chancellor, not
so much as to inquire what he had done in the matter, because it was
conceived to be a matter derogatory to the power and privilege of the
house."[*] This is the most considerable, and almost only instance of
parliamentary liberty, which occurs during the reign of that princess.

Outlaws, whether on account of debts or crimes, had been declared by
the judges[*] incapable of enjoying a seat in the house, where they
must themselves be lawgivers; but this opinion of the judges had been
frequently overruled. I find, however, in the case of Vaughan,[**] who
was questioned for an outlawry, that, having proved all his debts
to have been contracted by suretyship, and to have been most of them
honestly compounded, he was allowed, on account of these favorable
circumstances, to keep his seat; which plainly supposes, that otherwise
it would have been vacated on account of the outlawry.[***]

When James summoned this parliament, he issued a proclamation,[****] in
which, among many general advices, which, like a kind tutor, he bestowed
on his people, he strictly enjoins them not to choose any outlaw for
their representative. And he adds, "If any person take upon him the
place of knight, citizen, or burgess, not being duly elected, according
to the laws and statutes in that behalf provided, and according to the
purport, effect, and true meaning of this our proclamation, then
every person so offending to be fined or imprisoned for the same." A
proclamation here was plainly put on the same footing with a law, and
that in so delicate a point as the right of elections; most alarming
circumstances, had there not been reason to believe that this measure,
being entered into so early in the king's reign, proceeded more from
precipitation and mistake, than from any serious design of invading the
privileges of parliament.[v]

* D'Ewes, p. 397.

** 39 H. 6.

*** Journ. Feb. 8th, 1580.

**** In a subsequent parliament, that of the thirty-fifth of
the queen, the commons, after a great debate, expressly
voted, that a person outlawed might be elected. D'Ewes, p.
518. But as the matter had been much contested, the king
might think the vote of the house no law, and might esteem
his own decision of more weight than theirs. We may also
suppose that he was not acquainted with this vote. Queen
Elizabeth, in her speech to her last parliament, complained
of their admitting outlaws, and represents that conduct of
the house as a great abuse.

v Jan. 11th, 1604. Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 561.

Sir Francis Goodwin was chosen member for the county of Bucks; and his
return, as usual, was made into chancery. The chancellor, pronouncing
him an outlaw, vacated his seat and issued writs for a new election.[*]
Sir John Fortescue was chosen in his place by the county: but the first
act of the house was to reverse the chancellor's sentence, and restore
Sir Francis to his seat. At the king's suggestion, the lords desired a
conference on the subject; but were absolutely refused by the commons,
as the question entirely regarded their own privileges.[**] The commons,
however, agreed to make a remonstrance to the king by the mouth of their
speaker; in which they maintained that, though the returns were by
form made into chancery, yet the sole right of judging with regard to
elections belonged to the house itself, not to the chancellor.[***]
James was not satisfied, and ordered a conference between the house
and the judges, whose opinion in this case was opposite to that of
the commons. This conference, he said, he commanded as an "absolute"
king;[****] an epithet, we are apt to imagine, not very grateful to
English ears, but one to which they had already been somewhat accustomed
from the mouth of Elizabeth.[v] [44] He added, "That all their
privileges were derived from his grant, and hoped they would not turn
them against him;"[v*] a sentiment which, from her conduct, it is
certain that princess had also entertained, and which was the reigning
principle of her courtiers and ministers, and the spring of all her
administration.

* The duke of Sully tells us, that it was a maxim of James,
that no prince, in the first year of his reign, should begin
any considerable undertaking; a maxim reasonable in itself,
and very suitable to his cautious, not to say timid
character. The facility with which he departed from this
pretension, is another proof that his meaning was innocent.
But had the privileges of parliament been at that time
exactly ascertained, or royal power fully limited, could
such an imagination ever have been entertained by him, as to
think that his proclamations could regulate parliamentary
elections?

** Winwood, vol. ii. p. 18, 19.

*** Journ. 26th March, 1604

**** Journ. 3d April, 1604.

v See note RR, at the end of the volume.

v* Camden, in Kennet, p. 375.

The commons were in some perplexity. Their eyes were now opened, and
they saw the consequences of that power which had been assumed by
the chancellor, and to which their predecessors had in some instances
blindly submitted. "By this course," said a member, "the free election
of the counties is taken away, and none shall be chosen but such as
shall please the king and council. Let us therefore with fortitude,
understanding, and sincerity, seek to maintain our privilege. This
cannot be construed any contempt in us, but merely a maintenance of our
common rights, which our ancestors have left us, and which it is just
and fit for us to transmit to our posterity."[*] Another said, "This
may be called a quo warranto to seize all our liberties."[**] "A
chancellor," added a third, "by this course may call a parliament
consisting of what persons he pleases. Any suggestion, by any person,
may be the cause of sending a new writ. It is come to this
plain question, whether the chancery or parliament ought to have
authority."[***]

Notwithstanding this watchful spirit of liberty which now appeared
in the commons, their deference for majesty was so great that they
appointed a committee to confer with the judges before the king and
council. There the question of law began to appear in James's eyes a
little more doubtful than he had hitherto imagined it; and in order to
extricate himself with some honor, he proposed that both Goodwin and
Fortescue should be set aside, and a writ be issued, by warrant of the
house, for a new election. Goodwin gave his consent, and the commons
embraced the expedient; but in such a manner that, while they showed
their regard for the king, they secured for the future the free
possession of their seats, and the right which they claimed of judging
solely in their own elections and returns.[****] [45]

A power like this, so essential to the exercise of all their other
powers, themselves so essential to public liberty, cannot fairly be
deemed an encroachment in the commons; but must be regarded as an
inherent privilege, happily rescued from that ambiguity which the
negligence of some former parliaments had thrown upon it.

At the same time, the commons, in the case of Sir Thomas Shirley,
established their power of punishing, as well the persons at whose suit
any member is arrested, as the officers who either arrest or detain him.
Their asserting of this privilege admits of the same reflection.[v]

* Journ, 30th March, 1604.

** Journ, 30th March, 1604.

*** Journ. 30th March, 1604.

**** See note SS, at the end of the volume.

v Journ. 6th and 7th May, 1604.

About this period, the minds of men throughout Europe, especially in
England, seem to have undergone a general but insensible revolution.
Though letters had been revived in the preceding age, they were chiefly
cultivated by those of sedentary professions; nor had they till now
begun to spread themselves in any degree among men of the world.
Arts, both mechanical and liberal, were every day receiving great
improvements. Navigation had extended itself over the whole globe.
Travelling was secure and agreeable. And the general system of politics
in Europe was become more enlarged and comprehensive.

In consequence of this universal fermentation, the ideas of men enlarged
themselves on all sides; and the several constituent parts of the Gothic
governments, which seem to have lain long inactive, began everywhere
to operate and encroach on each other. On the continent, where the
necessity of discipline had begotten standing armies, the princes
commonly established an unlimited authority, and overpowered, by force
or intrigue, the liberties of the people. In England, the love of
freedom, which, unless checked, flourishes extremely in all liberal
natures, acquired new force, and was regulated by more enlarged views,
suitable to that cultivated understanding which became every day more
common among men of birth and education. A familiar acquaintance with
the precious remains of antiquity excited in every generous breast a
passion for a limited constitution, and begat an emulation of those
manly virtues which the Greek and Roman authors, by such animating
examples, as well as pathetic expressions, recommend to us. The severe,
though popular government of Elizabeth had confined this rising spirit
within very narrow bounds; but when a new and a foreign family succeeded
to the throne, and a prince less dreaded and less beloved, symptoms
immediately appeared of a more free and independent genius in the
nation.

Happily, this prince possessed neither sufficient capacity to perceive
the alteration, nor sufficient art and vigor to check it in its early
advances. Jealous of regal, because conscious of little personal
authority, he had established within his own mind a speculative system
of absolute government, which few of his subjects, he believed, and none
but traitors and rebels, would make any scruple to admit. On whichever
side he cast his eye, every thing concurred to encourage his prejudices.
When he compared himself with the other hereditary sovereigns of Europe,
he imagined that, as he bore the same rank, he was entitled to equal
prerogatives; not considering the innovations lately introduced by
them, and the military force by which their authority was supported.
In England, that power, almost unlimited, which had been exercised for
above a century, especially during the late reign, he ascribed solely to
royal birth and title; not to the prudence and spirit of the monarchs,
nor to the conjunctures of the times. Even the opposition which he had
struggled with in Scotland, encouraged him still further in his favorite
notions; while he there saw, that the same resistance which opposed
regal authority, violated all law and order, and made way either for the
ravages of a barbarous nobility, or for the more intolerable insolence
of seditious preachers. In his own person, therefore, he thought all
legal power to be centred, by an hereditary and a divine right: and this
opinion might have proved dangerous, if not fatal to liberty, had not
the firmness of the persuasion, and its seeming evidence, induced him to
trust solely to his right, without making the smallest provision, either
of force or politics, in order to support it.

Such were the opposite dispositions of parliament and prince at the
commencement of the Scottish line; dispositions just beginning to exist
and to appear in the parliament,[*] [46] but thoroughly established and
openly avowed on the part of the prince.

* See note TT, at the end of the volume.

The spirit and judgment of the house of commons appeared, not only in
defence of their own privileges, but also in their endeavor, though
at this time in vain, to free trade from those shackles which the high
exerted prerogative, and even, in this respect, the ill-judged tyranny
of Elizabeth, had imposed upon it.

James had already, of his own accord, called in and annulled all
the numerous patents for monopolies which had been granted by his
predecessor, and which extremely fettered every species of domestic
industry: but the exclusive companies still remained; another species of
monopoly, by which almost all foreign trade, except that to France, was
brought into the hands of a few rapacious engrossers, and all prospect
of future improvement in commerce was forever sacrificed to a
little temporary advantage of the sovereign. These companies, though
arbitrarily erected, had carried their privileges so far, that almost
all the commerce of England was centred in London; and it appears that
the customs of that port amounted to one hundred and ten thousand pounds
a year, while those of all the kingdom beside yielded only seventeen
thousand.[*] Nay, the whole trade of London was confined to about
two hundred citizens,[**] who were easily enabled, by combining among
themselves, to fix whatever price they pleased both to the exports and
imports of the nation. The committee appointed to consider this enormous
grievance, one of the greatest which we read of in English story, insist
on it as a fact well known and avowed, however contrary to present
received opinion, that shipping and seamen had insensibly decayed during
all the preceding reign.[***] And though nothing be more common than
complaints of the decay of trade, even during the most flourishing
periods, yet is this a consequence which might naturally result from
such arbitrary establishments, at a time when the commerce of all the
other nations of Europe, except that of Scotland, enjoyed full liberty
and indulgence.

While the commons were thus attempting to give liberty to the trading
part of the nation, they also endeavored to free the landed property
from the burden of wardships,[****] and to remove those remains of the
feudal tenures under which the nation still labored. A just regard was
shown to the crown in the conduct of this affair; nor was the remedy
sought for considered as a matter of right, but merely of grace and
favor. The profit which the king reaped, both from wards and from
respite of homage, was estimated; and it was intended to compound for
these prerogatives by a secure and independent revenue. But after some
debates in the house, and some conferences with the lords, the affair
was found to contain more difficulties than could easily, at that time,
be surmounted; and it was not then brought to any conclusion.

The same fate attended an attempt of a like nature, to free the nation
from the burden of purveyance. This prerogative had been much abused
by the purveyors;[v] and the commons showed some intention to offer the
king fifty thousand pounds a year for the abolition of it.

* Journ. 21st May, 1604.

** Journ. 21st May, 1604.

*** A remonstrance from the Trinity House, in 1602, says,
that in a little above twelve years after 1588, the shipping
and number of seamen in England decayed about a third.
Anglesey's Happy Future State of England, p. 128, from Sir
Julius Caesar's Collections. See Journ. 21st May, 1604.

**** Journ. 1st June, 1604.

v Journ. 30th April, 1604.

Another affair of the utmost consequence was brought before the
parliament, where the commons showed a greater spirit of independence
than any true judgment of national interest. The union of the two
kingdoms was zealously, and even impatiently, urged by the king.[*] He
justly regarded it as the peculiar felicity of his reign, that he had
terminated the bloody animosities of these hostile nations; and had
reduced the whole island under one government, enjoying tranquillity
within itself, and security from all foreign invasions. He hoped that,
while his subjects of both kingdoms reflected on past disasters, besides
regarding his person as infinitely precious, they would entertain the
strongest desire of securing themselves against the return of like
calamities, by a thorough union of laws, parliaments, and privileges.
He considered not, that this very reflection operated, as yet, in a
contrary manner on men's prejudices, and kept alive that mutual hatred
between the nations, which had been carried to the greatest extremities,
and required time to allay it. The more urgent the king appeared
in promoting so useful a measure, the more backward was the English
parliament in concurring with him; while they ascribed his excessive
zeal to that partiality in favor of his ancient subjects, of which they
thought that, on other occasions, they had reason to complain. Their
complaisance for the king, therefore, carried them no further than
to appoint forty-four English to meet with thirty-one Scottish
commissioners, in order to deliberate concerning the terms of a union;
but without any power of making advances towards the establishment of
it.[**]

* Journ. 21st April, 1st May, 1604. Parliamentary History,
vol v p. 91.

** Journ. 7th June, 1604. Kennet, p. 673.

The same spirit of independence, and perhaps not better judgment,
appeared in the house of commons when the question of supply was brought
before them by some members attached to the court. In vain was it
urged that, though the king received a supply which had been voted to
Elizabeth, and which had not been collected before her death, yet he
found it burdened with a debt contracted by the queen, equal to the full
amount of it: that peace was not yet thoroughly concluded with Spain,
and that Ireland was still expensive.

On his journey from Scotland, amidst such a concourse of people, and on
that of the queen and royal family he had expended considerable sums;
and that, as the courtiers had looked for greater liberalities from the
prince on his accession, and had imposed on his generous nature, so the
prince, in his turn, would expect, at the beginning, some mark of
duty and attachment from his people, and some consideration of his
necessities. No impression was made on the house of commons by these
topics; and the majority appeared fully determined to refuse all supply.
The burden of government, at that time, lay surprisingly light upon the
people: and that very reason, which to us, at this distance, may seem a
motive of generosity, was the real cause why the parliament was, on all
occasions, so remarkably, frugal and reserved. They were not, as
yet, accustomed to open their purses in so liberal a manner as their
successors, in order to supply the wants of their sovereign; and the
smallest demand, however requisite, appeared in their eyes unreasonable
and exorbitant. The commons seem also to have been desirous of reducing
the crown to still further necessities, by their refusing a bill, sent
down to them by the lords, for entailing the crown lands forever on the
king's heirs and successors.[*] The dissipation made by Elizabeth had
probably taught James the necessity of this law, and shown them the
advantage of refusing it.

In order to cover a disappointment with regard to supply, which might
bear a bad construction both at home and abroad, James sent a message
to the house,[*] in which he told them that he desired no supply; and he
was very forward in refusing what was never offered him.

* Parliamentary Hist. vol. v. p. 108.

Soon after, he prorogued the parliament, not without discovering in his
speech visible marks of dissatisfaction. Even so early in his reign,
he saw reason to make public complaints of the restless and encroaching
spirit of the Puritanical party, and of the malevolence with which
they endeavored to inspire the commons. Nor were his complaints without
foundation, or the Puritans without interest; since the commons, now
finding themselves free from the arbitrary government of Elizabeth, made
application for a conference with the lords, and presented a petition
to the king; the purport of both which was, to procure in favor of the
Puritans, a relaxation of the ecclesiastical laws.[*] The use of the
surplice, and of the cross in baptism is there chiefly complained
of; but the remedy seems to have been expected solely from the king's
dispensing power,[**] In the papers which contain this application and
petition, we may also see proofs of the violent animosity of the commons
against the Catholics, together with the intolerating spirit of that
assembly.[***] [47]

This summer, the peace with Spain was finally concluded, and was signed
by the Spanish ministers at London.[****] In the conferences previous to
this treaty, the nations were found to have so few claims on each other,
that, except on account of the support given by England to the Low
Country provinces, the war might appear to have been continued more on
account of personal animosity between Philip and Elizabeth, than any
contrariety of political interests between their subjects. Some articles
in the treaty, which seemed prejudicial to the Dutch commonwealth, were
never executed by the king; and as the Spaniards made no complaints on
that head, it appeared that, by secret agreement, the king had expressly
reserved the power of sending assistance to the Hollanders.[v] The
constable of Castile came into England to ratify the peace; and on the
part of England, the earl of Hertford was sent into the Low Countries
for the same purpose, and the earl of Nottingham, high admiral, into
Spain. The train of the latter was numerous and splendid; and the
Spaniards, it is said, were extremely surprised when they beheld the
blooming countenances and graceful appearance of the English, whom their
bigotry, inflamed by the priests, had represented as so many monsters
and infernal demons.

* La Boderie, the French ambassador, says, that the house of
commons [Greek: ][Greek: ]was composed mostly of Puritans.
Vol. i. p. 81.

** Parl. Hist. vol. v. p. 98, 99, 100.

*** See note UU, at the end of the volume.

**** Rymer, torn. xvi. p. 585, etc.

v Winwood, vol. ii. p. 27, 330, et alibi.

Though England, by means of her naval force, was perfectly secure during
the latter years of the Spanish war, James showed an impatience to put
an end to hostilities; and soon after his accession, before any terms
of peace were concerted, or even proposed by Spain, he recalled all the
letters of marque.

In this respect, James's peace was more honorable than that which Henry
IV. himself made with Spain. This latter prince stipulated not to assist
the Dutch; and the supplies which he secretly sent them were in direct
contravention to the treaty.[*] which had been granted by Queen
Elizabeth. Archduke Albert had made some advances of a like nature[**]
which invited the king to take this friendly step. But what is
remarkable, in James's proclamation for that purpose he plainly
supposes, that as he had himself, while king of Scotland, always lived
in amity with Spain, peace was attached to his person; and that merely
by his accession to the crown of England, without any articles of treaty
or agreement, he had ended the war between the kingdoms.[***] This
ignorance of the law of nations may appear surprising in a prince who
was thirty-six years of age, and who had reigned from his infancy; did
we not consider that a king of Scotland, who lives in close friendship
with England, has few transactions to manage with foreign princes, and
has little opportunity of acquiring experience. Unhappily for James,
his timidity, his prejudices, his indolence, his love of amusement,
particularly of hunting, to which he was much addicted, ever prevented
him from making any progress in the knowledge or practice of foreign
politics, and in a little time diminished that regard which all
the neighboring nations had paid to England during the reign of his
predecessor.[****]

* 23d June., 1603.

** Grotii Annal. lib xii.

*** See Proclamations during the first seven years of King
James Winwood, vol. ii. p. 65.

**** Mémoires do la Boderia, vol i p. 64,181, 195, 217, 302;
vol. ii p. 214, 278.

CHAPTER XLVI.

JAMES I.

{1604.} We are now to relate an event, one of the most memorable that
history has conveyed to posterity, and containing at once a singular
proof both of the strength and weakness of the human mind; its
widest departure from morals, and most steady attachment to religious
prejudices. It is the "gunpowder treason" of which I speak; a fact as
certain as it appears incredible.

The Roman Catholics had expected great favor and indulgence on the
accession of James, both as he was descended from Mary, whose life they
believed to have been sacrificed to their cause, and as he himself,
in his early youth, was imagined to have shown some partiality towards
them, which nothing, they thought, but interest and necessity had since
restrained. It is pretended, that he had even entered into positive
engagements to tolerate their religion as soon as he should mount the
throne of England; whether their credulity had interpreted in this sense
some obliging expressions of the king's, or that he had employed such an
artifice in order to render them favorable to his title.[*]

* State Trials, vol. ii. p. 201, 202, 203. Winwood, vol. ii.
p. 49.

Very soon they discovered their mistake; and were at once surprised and
enraged to find James on all occasions express his intention of strictly
executing the laws enacted against them, and of persevering in all the
rigorous measures of Elizabeth. Catesby, a gentleman of good parts and
of an ancient family, first thought of a most extraordinary method of
revenge; and he opened his intention to Piercy, a descendant of the
illustrious house of Northumberland. In one of their conversations
with regard to the distressed condition of the Catholics, Piercy having
broken into a sally of passion, and mentioned assassinating the king,
Catesby took the opportunity of revealing to him a nobler and more
extensive plan of treason, which not only included a sure execution of
vengeance, but afforded some hopes of restoring the Catholic religion in
England. "In vain," said he, "would you put an end to the king's life:
he has children, who would succeed both to his crown and to his maxims
of government. In vain would you extinguish the whole royal family:
the nobility, the gentry, the parliament are all infected with the same
heresy, and could raise to the throne another prince and another family,
who, besides their hatred to our religion, would be animated with
revenge for the tragical death of their predecessors. To serve any good
purpose, we must destroy, at one blow, the king, the royal family,
the lords, the commons; and bury all our enemies in one common ruin.
Happily, they are all assembled on the first meeting of the parliament,
and afford us the opportunity of glorious and useful vengeance. Great
preparations will not be requisite. A few of us, combining, may run a
mine below the hall in which they meet; and choosing the very moment
when the king harangues both houses, consign over to destruction these
determined foes to all piety and religion. Meanwhile, we ourselves
standing aloof, safe and unsuspected, shall triumph in being the
instruments of divine wrath, and shall behold with pleasure those
sacrilegious walls, in which were passed the edicts for proscribing our
church and butchering her children, tossed into a thousand fragments;
while their impious inhabitants, meditating, perhaps, still new
persecutions against us, pass from flames above to flames below, there
forever to endure the torments due to their offences."[*]

Piercy was charmed with this project of Catesby; and they agreed to
communicate the matter to a few more, and among the rest to Thomas
Winter, whom they sent over to Flanders in quest of Fawkes, an officer
in the Spanish service, with whose zeal and courage they were all
thoroughly acquainted. When they enlisted any new conspirator, in order
to bind him to secrecy, they always, together with an oath, employed
the communion, the most sacred rite of their religion.[**] And it is
remarkable, that no one of these pious devotees ever entertained
the least compunction with regard to the cruel massacre which they
projected, of whatever was great and eminent in the nation. Some of them
only were startled by the reflection, that of necessity many Catholics
must be present, as spectators or attendants on the king, or as having
seats in the house of peers: but Tesmond, a Jesuit, and Garnet, superior
of that order in England, removed these scruples, and showed them how
the interests of religion required that the innocent should here be
sacrificed with the guilty.

* History of the Gunpowder Treason.

** State Trials, vol. i. p. 190, 198, 210.

All this passed in the spring and summer of the year 1604; when the
conspirators also hired a house in Piercy's name, adjoining to that in
which the parliament was to assemble. Towards the end of that year, they
began their operations. That they might be less interrupted, and give
less suspicion to the neighborhood, they carried in store of provisions
with them, and never desisted from their labor. Obstinate in their
purpose, and confirmed by passion, by principle, and by mutual
exhortation, they little feared death in comparison of a disappointment;
and having provided arms, together with the instruments of their labor,
they resolved there to perish in case of a discovery. Their perseverance
advanced the work; and they soon pierced the wall, though three yards
in thickness; but on approaching the other side, they were somewhat
startled at hearing a noise which they knew not how to account for.

{1605.} Upon inquiry, they found that it came from the vault below the
house of lords; that a magazine of coals had been kept there; and that,
as the coals were selling off, the vault would be let to the highest
bidder. The opportunity was immediately seized; the place hired by
Piercy; thirty-six barrels of powder lodged in it; the whole covered up
with fagots and billets; the doors of the cellar boldly flung open; and
every body admitted, as if it contained nothing dangerous.

Confident of success, they now began to look forward, and to plan the
remaining part of their project. The king, the queen, Prince Henry, were
all expected to be present at the opening of parliament. The duke, by
reason of his tender age, would be absent; and it was resolved that
Piercy should seize him, or assassinate him. The princess Elizabeth, a
child likewise, was kept at Lord Harrington's house in Warwickshire;
and Sir Everard Digby, Rookwood, Grant, being let into the conspiracy,
engaged to assemble their friends on pretence of a hunting match, and
seizing that princess, immediately to proclaim her queen. So transported
were they with rage against their adversaries, and so charmed with the
prospect of revenge, that they forgot all care of their own safety; and
trusting to the general confusion which must result from so unexpected a
blow, they foresaw not that the fury of the people, now unrestrained by
any authority, must have turned against them, and would probably have
satiated itself by a universal massacre of the Catholics.

The day so long wished for now approached, on which the parliament was
appointed to assemble. The dreadful secret, though communicated to above
twenty persons, had been religiously kept during the space of near a
year and a half. No remorse, no pity, no fear of punishment, no hope
of reward, had as yet induced any one conspirator either to abandon the
enterprise, or make a discovery of it. The holy fury had extinguished
in their breast every other motive; and it was an indiscretion at last,
proceeding chiefly from these very bigoted prejudices and partialities,
which saved the nation.

Ten days before the meeting of parliament, Lord Monteagle, a Catholic,
son to Lord Morley, received the following letter, which had been
delivered to his servant by an unknown hand: "My Lord,--Out of the love
I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation.
Therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some
excuse to shift off your attendance at this parliament For God and man
have concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. And think not
slightly of this advertisement; but retire yourself into your country,
where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no
appearance of any stir, yet, I say, they will receive a terrible blow
this parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel
is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no
harm: for the danger is past as soon as you have burned the letter. And
I hope God will give you the grace to make good use of it, unto whose
holy protection I commend you."[*]

* King James's Works, p. 227.

Monteagle knew not what to make of this letter; and though inclined to
think it a foolish attempt to frighten and ridicule him, he judged
it safest to carry it to Lord Salisbury, secretary of state. Though
Salisbury, too, was inclined to pay little attention to it, he thought
proper to lay it before the king, who came to town a few days after.
To the king it appeared not so light a matter; and from the serious,
earnest style of the letter, he conjectured that it implied something
dangerous and important A "terrible blow," and yet "the authors
concealed;" a danger so "sudden," and yet so "great;" these
circumstances seemed all to denote some contrivance by gun powder; and
it was thought advisable to inspect all the vaults below the houses of
parliament. This care belonged to the earl of Suffolk, lord chamberlain,
who purposely delayed the search till the day before the meeting of
parliament. He remarked those great piles of wood and fagots which lay
in the vault under the upper house; and he cast his eye upon Fawkes, who
stood in a dark corner, and passed himself for Piercy's servant.
That daring and determined courage which so much distinguished this
conspirator, even among those heroes in villany, was fully painted in
his countenance, and was not passed unnoticed by the chamberlain.[*]
Such a quantity also of fuel, for the use of one who lived so little in
town as Piercy, appeared a little extraordinary;[**] and upon comparing
all circumstances, it was resolved that a more thorough inspection
should be made. About midnight, Sir Thomas Knevet, a justice of peace,
was sent with proper attendants; and before the door of the vault
finding Fawkes, who had just finished all his preparations, he
immediately seized him, and turning over the fagots, discovered the
powder. The matches, and every thing proper for setting fire to the
train, were taken in Fawkes's pocket; who, finding his guilt now
apparent, and seeing no refuge but in boldness and despair, expressed
the utmost regret that he had lost the opportunity of firing the powder
at once, and of sweetening his own death by that of his enemies.[***]
Before the council he displayed the same intrepid firmness, mixed
even with scorn and disdain; refusing to discover his accomplices, and
showing no concern but for the failure of the enterprise.[****] This
obstinacy lasted two or three days: but being confined to the Tower,
left to reflect on his guilt and danger, and the rack being just shown
to him, his courage, fatigued with so long an effort, and unsupported by
hope or society, at last failed him, and he made a full discovery of all
the conspirators.[v]

* King James's Works, p. 229.

** King James's Works, p. 229.

*** King James's Works, p. 230.

**** Winwood, vol. ii. p. 173.

v King James's Works, p. 231.

Catesby, Piercy, and the other criminals who were in London, though they
had heard of the alarm taken at a letter sent to Monteagle; though they
had heard of the chamberlain's search; yet were resolved to persist to
the utmost, and never abandon their hopes of success.[*] [50] But at
last, hearing that Fawkes was arrested, they hurried down to
Warwickshire; where Sir Everard Digby, thinking himself assured that
success had attended his confederates, was already in arms, in order to
seize the princess Elizabeth. She had escaped into Coventry; and they
were obliged to put themselves on their defence against the country, who
were raised from all quarters and armed by the sheriff. The
conspirators, with all their attendants, never exceeded the number of
eighty persons; and being surrounded on every side, could no longer
entertain hopes either of prevailing or escaping. Having therefore
confessed themselves, and received absolution, they boldly prepared for
death, and resolved to sell their lives as dear as possible to the
assailants. But even this miserable consolation was denied them. Some of
their powder took fire, and disabled them for defence.[**] The people
rushed in upon them. Piercy and Catesby were killed by one shot. Digby,
Rookwood, Winter, and others, being taken prisoners, were tried,
confessed their guilt, and died, as well as Garnet, by the hands of the
executioner. Notwithstanding this horrid crime, the bigoted Catholics
were so devoted to Garnet, that they fancied miracles to be wrought by
his blood;[***] and in Spain he was regarded as a martyr.[****]

Neither had the desperate fortune of the conspirators urged them to this
enterprise, nor had the former profligacy of their lives prepared them
for so great a crime. Before that audacious attempt, their conduct
seems, in general, to be liable to no reproach. Catesby's character had
entitled him to such regard, that Rookwood and Digby were seduced by
their implicit trust in his judgment; and they declared that, from the
motive alone of friendship to him, they were ready, on any occasion, to
have sacrificed their lives.[v] Digby himself was as highly esteemed
and beloved as any man in England; and he had been particularly honored
with the good opinion of Queen Elizabeth.

* See note XX, at the end of the volume.

** State Trials, vol. i. p. 199. Discourse of the Manner,
etc. p. 69, 70.

*** Winwood, vol. ii. p. 300.

**** Winwood, vol. ii. p. 300.

v State Trials, vol. i. p. 201.

It was bigoted zeal alone, the most absurd of prejudices masked with
reason, the most criminal of passions covered with the appearance of
duty, which seduced them into measures that were fatal to themselves,
and had so nearly proved fatal to their country.[*]

The lords Mordaunt and Stourton, two Catholics, were fined, the former
ten thousand pounds, the latter four thousand, by the star chamber;
because their absence from parliament had begotten a suspicion of their
being acquainted with the conspiracy. The earl of Northumberland was
fined thirty thousand pounds, and detained several years prisoner in
the Tower, because, not to mention other grounds of suspicion, he had
admitted Piercy into the number of gentlemen pensioners without his
taking the requisite oaths.[**]

The king, in his speech to the parliament, observed that, though
religion had engaged the conspirators in so criminal an attempt, yet
ought we not to involve all the Roman Catholics in the same guilt, or
suppose them equally disposed to commit such enormous barbarities. Many
holy men, he said, and our ancestors among the rest, had been seduced to
concur with that church in her scholastic doctrines, who yet had
never admitted her seditious principles concerning the pope's power of
dethroning kings, or sanctifying assassination. The wrath of Heaven is
denounced against crimes, but innocent error may obtain its favor; and
nothing can be more hateful than the uncharitableness of the Puritans,
who condemn alike to eternal torments even the most inoffensive
partisans of Popery. For his part, he added, that conspiracy, however
atrocious, should never alter in the least his plan of government: while
with one hand he punished guilt, with the other he would still
support and protect innocence.[***] After this speech he prorogued the
parliament till the twenty-second of January.[****]

* Digby, after his condemnation, said, in a letter to his
wife, "Now for my intention, let me tell you, that if I had
thought there had been the least sin in the plot, I would
not have been of it for all the world; and no other cause
drew me to hazard my fortune and life, but zeal to God's
religion." He expresses his surprise to hear that any
Catholics had condemned it. Digby's Papers, published by
Secretary Coventry.

* Camden, in Kennet, p. 692.

* King James's Works, p. 503, 504.

* The parliament this session passed an act obliging every
one to take the oath of allegiance; a very moderate test,
since it decided no controverted points between the two
religions, and only engaged the persons who took it to
abjure the pope's power of dethroning kings. See King
James's Works p. 250.

The moderation, and, I may say, magnanimity of the king immediately
after so narrow an escape from a most detestable conspiracy, was nowise
agreeable to his subjects. Their animosity against Popery, even before
this provocation, has risen to a great pitch; and it had perhaps been
more prudent in James, by a little dissimulation, to have conformed
himself to it. His theological learning, confirmed by disputation, has
happily fixed his judgment in the Protestant faith; yet was his heart a
little biased by the allurements of Rome; and he had been well pleased,
if the making of some advances could have effected a union with that
ancient mother church. He strove to abate the acrimony of his own
subjects against the religion of their fathers: he became himself
the object of their diffidence and aversion. Whatever measures he
embraced--in Scotland to introduce prelacy, in England to enforce
the authority of the established church, and support its rites and
ceremonies--were interpreted as so many steps towards Popery; and were
represented by the Puritans as symptoms of idolatry and superstition.
Ignorant of the consequences, or unwilling to sacrifice to politics his
inclination, which he called his conscience, he persevered in the same
measures, and gave trust and preferment, almost indifferently, to his
Catholic and Protestant subjects. And finding his person, as well as his
title, less obnoxious to the church of Rome, than those of Elizabeth, he
gradually abated the rigor of those laws which had been enacted against
that church, and which were so acceptable to his bigoted subjects. But
the effects of these dispositions on both sides became not very sensible
till towards the conclusion of his reign.

{1606.} At this time, James seems to have possessed the affections even
of his English subjects, and, in a tolerable degree, their esteem and
regard. Hitherto their complaints were chiefly levelled against his too
great constancy in his early friendships; a quality which, had it been
attended with more economy, the wise would have excused, and the
candid would even, perhaps, have applauded. His parts, which were not
despicable, and his learning, which was great, being highly extolled by
his courtiers and gownmen, and not yet tried in the management of any
delicate affairs, for which he was unfit, raised a high idea of him in
the world; nor was it always through flattery or insincerity that he
received the title of the second Solomon. A report, which was suddenly
spread about this time of his being assassinated, visibly struck a great
consternation into all orders of men.[*] The commons also abated, this
session, somewhat of their excessive frugality, and granted him an aid,
payable in four years, of three subsidies and six fifteenths, which, Sir
Francis Bacon said in the house,[**] might amount to about four
hundred thousand pounds; and for once the king and parliament parted
in friendship and good humor. The hatred which the Catholics so visibly
bore him, gave him, at this time, an additional value in the eyes of his
people. The only considerable point in which the commons incurred
his displeasure, was by discovering their constant good will to the
Puritans, in whose favor they desired a conference with the lords;[***]
which was rejected.

The chief affair transacted next session, was the intended union of the
two kingdoms.[****] Nothing could exceed the king's passion and zeal
for this noble enterprise, but the parliament's prejudice and reluctance
against it. There remain two excellent speeches in favor of the union,
which it would not be improper to compare together; that of the king,[v]
and that of Sir Francis Bacon. Those who affect in every thing such
an extreme contempt for James, will be surprised to find that his
discourse, both for good reasoning and elegant composition, approaches
very near that of a man who was undoubtedly, at that time, one of the
greatest geniuses in Europe. A few trivial indiscretions and indecorums
may be said to characterize the harangue of the monarch, and mark it for
his own. And, in general, so open and avowed a declaration in favor of
a measure, while he had taken no care, by any precaution or intrigue, to
insure success, may safely be pronounced an indiscretion. But the art of
managing parliaments by private interest or cabal, being found hitherto
of little use or necessity, had not as yet become a part of English
politics. In the common course of affairs, government could be conducted
without their assistance; and when their concurrence became necessary to
the measures of the crown, it was, generally speaking, except in times
of great faction and discontent, obtained without much difficulty.

* Kennet, p. 696.

** Journ. 20th May, 1606

*** Journ. 5th April, 1606.

**** Kennet, p 676.

v King James's Works, p. 509.

The king's influence seems to have rendered the Scottish parliament
cordial in all the steps which they took towards the union. Though
the advantages which Scotland might hope from that measure were more
considerable, yet were the objections too, with regard to that kingdom
more striking and obvious. The benefit which must have resulted
to England, both by accession of strength and security, was riot
despicable; and as the English were by far the greater nation, and
possessed the seat of government, the objections, either from the point
of honor or from jealousy, could not reasonably have any place among
them. The English parliament, indeed, seem to have been swayed merely
by the vulgar motive of national antipathy. And they persisted so
obstinately in their prejudices, that all the efforts for a thorough
union and incorporation ended only in the abolition of the hostile laws
formerly enacted between the kingdoms.[*]

* The commons were even so averse to the union, that they
had complained in the former session, to the lords, of the
bishop of Bristol, for writing a book in favor of it; and
the prelate was obliged to make submissions for this
offence. The crime imputed to him seems to have consisted in
his treating of a subject which lay before the parliament:
so little notion had they as yet of general liberty. See
Parliamentary History, vol. v. p 108, 109, 110

Some precipitate steps, which the king, a little after his accession,
had taken, in order to promote his favorite project, had been here
observed to do more injury than service. From his own authority, he had
assumed the title of king of Great Britain; and had quartered the arms
of Scotland with those of England, in all coins, flags, and ensigns. He
had also engaged the judges to make a declaration, that all those who,
after the union of the crowns, should be born in either kingdom, were,
for that reason alone, naturalized in both. This was a nice question,
and, according to the ideas of those times, susceptible of subtle
reasoning on both sides. The king was the same: the parliaments were
different. To render the people therefore the same, we must suppose that
the sovereign authority resided chiefly in the prince, and that these
popular assemblies were rather instituted to assist with money and
advice, than endowed with any controlling or active powers in the
government. "It is evident," says Bacon, in his pleadings on this
subject, "that all other commonwealths, monarchies only excepted, do
subsist by a law precedent. For where authority is divided amongst many
officers, and they not perpetual, but annual or temporary, and not to
receive their authority but by election, and certain persons to have
voices only in that election, and the like; these are busy and curious
frames, which of necessity do presuppose a law precedent, written or
unwritten, to guide and direct them: but in monarchies, especially
hereditary, that is, when several families or lineages of people do
submit themselves to one line, imperial or royal, the submission is more
natural and simple; which afterwards, by law subsequent, is perfected,
and made more formal; but that is grounded upon nature."[*] It would
seem, from this reasoning, that the idea of an hereditary limited
monarchy, though implicitly supposed in many public transactions, had
scarcely ever as yet been expressly formed by any English lawyer or
politician.

Except the obstinacy of the parliament with regard to the union, and
an attempt on the king's ecclesiastical jurisdiction,[*] most of
their measures, during this session, were sufficiently respectful and
obliging; though they still discover a vigilant spirit, and a careful
attention towards national liberty. The votes also of the commons show
that the house contained a mixture of Puritans, who had acquired great
authority among them,[**] and who, together with religious prejudices,
were continually suggesting ideas more suitable to a popular than a
monarchical form of government. The natural appetite for rule made the
commons lend a willing ear to every doctrine which tended to augment
their own power and influence.

{1607.} A petition was moved in the lower house for a more rigorous
execution of the laws against Popish recusants and an abatement towards
Protestant clergymen who scrupled to observe the ceremonies. Both these
points were equally unacceptable to the king; and he sent orders to the
house to proceed no further in that matter. The commons were inclined,
at first, to consider these orders as a breach of privilege; but they
soon acquiesced, when told that this measure of the king's was supported
by many precedents during the reign of Elizabeth.[***] Had they been
always disposed to make the precedents of that reign the rule of their
conduct, they needed never have had any quarrel with any of their
monarchs.

The complaints of Spanish depredations were very loud among the English
merchants.[****] The lower house sent a message to the lords, desiring
a conference with them, in order to their presenting a joint petition to
the king on the subject.

* Bacon's Works, vol. iv. p. 190, 191, edit. 1730.

** Journ. 2d December; 5th March, 1606. 25th, 26th June,
1607.

*** Journ. 26th February; 4th, 7th March, 1606. 2d May; 17th
June, 1607.

****Journ. 16th, 17th June, 1607.

The lords took some time to deliberate on this message; because, they
said, the matter was weighty and rare. It probably occurred to them,
at first, that the parliament's interposing in affairs of state would
appear unusual and extraordinary. And to show that in this sentiment
they were not guided by court influence, after they had deliberated,
they agreed to the conference.

The house of commons began now to feel themselves of such importance,
that, on the motion of Sir Edwin Sandys, a member of great authority,
they entered, for the first time, an order for the regular keeping of
their journals.[*] When all business was finished, the king prorogued
the parliament.

* Journ. 3d July, 1607.

About this time there was an insurrection of the country people in
Northamptonshire, headed by one Reynolds, a man of low condition. They
went about destroying enclosures; but carefully avoided committing any
other outrage. This insurrection was easily suppressed; and, though
great lenity was used towards the rioters, yet were some of the
ringleaders punished. The chief cause of that trivial commotion seems to
have been, of itself, far from trivial. The practice still continued in
England of disusing tillage and throwing the land into enclosures, for
the sake of pasture. By this means the kingdom was depopulated, at least
prevented from increasing so much in people as might have been expected
from the daily increase of industry and commerce.

{1608.} Next year presents us with nothing memorable; but in the spring
of the subsequent,

{1609.} after a long negotiation, was concluded, by a truce of twelve
years, that war which, for near half a century, had been carried on with
such fury between Spain and the states of the United Provinces. Never
contest seemed, at first, more unequal; never contest was finished
with more honor to the weaker party. On the side of Spain were numbers,
riches, authority, discipline: on the side of the revolted provinces
were found the attachment to liberty and the enthusiasm of religion. By
her naval enterprises, the republic maintained her armies; and, joining
peaceful industry to military valor, she was enabled, by her own
force, to support herself, and gradually rely less on those neighboring
princes, who, from jealousy to Spain, were at first prompted to
encourage her revolt. Long had the pride of that monarchy prevailed
over her interest, and prevented her from hearkening to any terms of
accommodation with her rebellious subjects. But finding all intercourse
cut off between her provinces by the maritime force of the states, she
at last agreed to treat with them as a free people, and solemnly to
renounce all claim and pretension to their sovereignty.

This chief point being gained, the treaty was easily brought to a
conclusion, under the joint mediation and guaranty of France and
England. All exterior appearances of honor were paid equally to both
crowns: but very different were the sentiments which the states, as well
as all Europe, entertained of the princes who wore them. Frugality
and vigor, the chief circumstances which procure regard among foreign
nations, shone out as conspicuously in Henry as they were deficient in
James. To a contempt of the English monarch, Henry seems to have added
a considerable degree of jealousy and aversion, which were sentiments
altogether without foundation. James was just and fair in all
transactions with his allies;[*] but it appears from the memoirs of
those times, that each side deemed him partial towards their adversary,
and fancied that he had entered into secret measures against them;[**]
so little equity have men in their judgments of their own affairs; and
so dangerous is that entire neutrality affected by the king of England!

{1610.} The little concern which James took in foreign affairs, renders
the domestic occurrences, particularly those of parliament, the most
interesting of his reign. A new session was held this spring; the king,
full of hopes of receiving supply; the commons, of circumscribing his
prerogative. The earl of Salisbury, now created treasurer on the death
of the earl of Dorset, laid open the king's necessities, first to the
peers, then to a committee of the lower house.[***]

* The plan of accommodation which James recommended is found
in Winwood, (vol. ii. p. 429, 430,) and is the same that was
recommended by Henry, as we learn from Jeanin, (tom. iii. p.
416, 417.) It had long been imagined by historians, from
Jeanin's authority, that James had declared to the court of
Spain, that he would not support the Dutch in their
pretensions to liberty and independence. But it has since
been discovered by Winwood's Memorials, (vol. ii. p. 456,
466, 469, 475, 476,) that that report was founded on a lie
of President Richardot's.

** Winwood and Jeanin, passim.

*** Journ. 17th Feb. 1609. Kennet, p. 681.

He insisted on the unavoidable expense incurred in supporting the navy,
and in suppressing a late insurrection in Ireland: he mentioned three
numerous courts which the king was obliged to maintain, for himself,
for the queen, and for the prince of Wales: he observed that Queen
Elizabeth, though a single woman, had received very large supplies in
the years preceding her death, which alone were expensive to her: and
he remarked, that during her reign she had alienated many of the crown
lands; an expedient which, though it supplied her present necessities,
without laying burdens on her people, extremely multiplied the
necessities of her successor. From all these causes he thought it nowise
strange that the king's income should fall short so great a sum as
eighty-one thousand pounds of his stated and regular expense; without
mentioning contingencies, which ought always to be esteemed a fourth of
the yearly charges. And as the crown was now necessarily burdened with
a great and urgent debt of three hundred thousand pounds, he thence
inferred the absolute necessity of an immediate and large supply from
the people. To all these reasons, which James likewise urged in a speech
addressed to both houses, the commons remained inexorable. But not to
shock the king with an absolute refusal, they granted him one subsidy
and one fifteenth; which would scarcely amount to a hundred thousand
pounds. And James received the mortification of discovering in vain
all his wants, and of begging aid of subjects who had no reasonable
indulgence or consideration for him.

Among the many causes of disgust and quarrel which now daily and
unavoidably multiplied between prince and parliament, this article of
money is to be regarded as none of the least considerable. After the
discovery and conquest of the West Indies, gold and silver became every
day more plentiful in England, as well as in the rest of Europe; and the
price of all commodities and provisions rose to a height beyond what had
been known since the declension of the Roman empire. As the revenue of
the crown rose not in proportion,[*] the prince was insensibly reduced
to poverty amidst the general riches of his subjects, and required
additional funds in order to support the same magnificence and force
which had been maintained by former monarchs. But, while money thus
flowed into England, we may observe, that, at the same time, and
probably from that very cause, arts and industry of all kinds received
a mighty increase; and elegance in every enjoyment of life became better
known and more cultivated among all ranks of people.

* Besides the great alienation of the crown lands, the fee-
farm rents never increased, and the other lands were let on
long leases and at a great undervalue, little or nothing
above the old rent.

The king's servants, both civil and military, his courtiers, his
ministers, demanded more ample supplies from the impoverished prince,
and were not contented with the same simplicity of living which had
satisfied their ancestors. The prince himself began to regard an
increase of pomp and splendor as requisite to support the dignity of his
character, and to preserve the same superiority above his subjects which
his predecessors had enjoyed. Some equality, too, and proportion to the
other sovereigns of Europe, it was natural for him to desire; and as
they had universally enlarged their revenue, and multiplied their taxes,
the king of England deemed it reasonable that his subjects, who were
generally as rich as theirs, should bear with patience some additional
burdens and impositions.

Unhappily for the king, those very riches, with the increasing knowledge
of the age, bred opposite sentiments in his subjects; and, begetting a
spirit of freedom and independence, disposed them to pay little regard
either to the entreaties or menaces of their sovereign. While the barons
possessed their former immense property and extensive jurisdictions,
they were apt, at every disgust, to endanger the monarch, and throw the
whole government into confusion; but this confusion often, in its turn,
proved favorable to the monarch, and made the nation again submit to
him, in order to reëstablish justice and tranquillity. After the power
of alienations, as well as the increase of commerce, had thrown the
balance of property into the hands of the commons, the situation of
affairs, and the dispositions of men, became susceptible of a more
regular plan of liberty; and the laws were not supported singly by
the authority of the sovereign. And though in that interval, after the
decline of the peers, and before the people had yet experienced
their force, the princes assumed an exorbitant power, and had almost
annihilated the constitution under the weight of their prerogative; as
soon as the commons recovered from their lethargy, they seem to have
been astonished at the danger, and were resolved to secure liberty by
firmer barriers than their ancestors had hitherto provided for it.

Had James possessed a very rigid frugality, he might have warded off
this crisis somewhat longer; and waiting patiently for a favorable
opportunity to increase and fix his revenue, might have secured the
extensive authority transmitted to him. On the other hand, had the
commons been inclined to act with more generosity and kindness towards
their prince, they might probably have turned his necessities to good
account, and have bribed him to depart peaceably from the more dangerous
articles of his prerogative. But he was a foreigner, and ignorant of
the arts of popularity; they were soured by religious prejudices, and
tenacious of their money: and in this situation it is no wonder,
that during this whole reign we scarcely find an interval of mutual
confidence and friendship between prince and parliament.

The king, by his prerogative alone, had some years before altered the
rates of the customs, and had established higher impositions on several
kinds of merchandise. This exercise of power will naturally, to us,
appear arbitrary and illegal; yet, according to the principles and
practices of that time, it might admit of some apology. The duties of
tonnage and poundage were at first granted to the crown by a vote of
parliament, and for a limited time; and as the grant frequently expired
and was renewed, there could not then arise any doubt concerning the
origin of the king's right to levy these duties; and this imposition,
like all others, was plainly derived from the voluntary consent of the
people. But as Henry V., and all the succeeding sovereigns, had the
revenue conferred on them for life, the prince, so long in possession of
these duties, began gradually to consider them as his own proper
right and inheritance, and regarded the vote of parliament as a mere
formality, which rather expressed the acquiescence of the people in his
prerogative, than bestowed any new gift or revenue upon him.

The parliament, when it first granted poundage to the crown, had fixed
no particular rates: the imposition was given as a shilling in a pound,
or five percent, on all commodities: it was left to the king himself and
the privy council, aided by the advice of such merchants as they should
think proper to consult, to fix the value of goods, and thereby the
rates of the customs: and as that value had been settled before the
discovery of the West Indies, it was become much inferior to the
prices which almost all commodities bore in every market in Europe; and
consequently the customs on many goods, though supposed to be five per
cent., was in reality much inferior. The king, therefore, was naturally
led to think, that rates which were now plainly false, ought to be
corrected;[*] that a valuation of commodities, fixed by one act of
the privy council, might be amended by another; that if his right to
poundage were inherent in the crown, he should also possess, of himself,
the right of correcting its inequalities; if this duty were granted by
the people, he should at least support the spirit of the law, by fixing
a new and a juster valuation of all commodities. But, besides this
reasoning, which seems plausible, if not solid, the king was supported
in that act of power by direct precedents, some in the reign of Mary,
some in the beginning of Elizabeth.[**] Both these princesses had,
without consent of parliament, altered the rates of commodities; and as
their impositions had all along been submitted to without a murmur, and
still continued to be levied, the king had no reason to apprehend that
a further exertion of the same authority would give any occasion of
complaint. That less umbrage might be taken, he was moderate in the new
rates which he established: the customs, during his whole reign, rose
only from one hundred and twenty-seven thousand pounds a year to one
hundred and ninety thousand; though, besides the increase of the rates,
there was a sensible increase of commerce and industry during that
period: every commodity, besides, which might serve to the subsistence
of the people, or might be considered as a material of manufactures, was
exempted from the new impositions of James;[***] but all this caution
could not prevent the complaints of the commons.

* Winwood, vol. ii. p. 438.

** Journ. 18th April; 5th and 10th May, 1614, etc.; 20th
February 1625. See also Sir John Davis's Question concerning
Impositions. p. 127, 128.

*** Sir John Davis's Question concerning Impositions.

A spirit of liberty had now taken possession of the house: the leading
members, men of an independent genius and large views, began to regulate
their opinions more by the future consequences which they foresaw,
than by the former precedents which were set before them; and they less
aspired at maintaining the ancient constitution, than at establishing a
new one, and a freer, and a better. In their remonstrances to the king
on this occasion, they observed it to be a general opinion, "That the
reasons of that practice might be extended much further, even to the
utter ruin of the ancient liberty of the kingdom, and the subjects'
right of property in their lands and goods."[*] Though expressly
forbidden by the king to touch his prerogative, they passed a bill
abolishing these impositions; which was rejected by the house of lords.

In another address to the king, they objected to the practice of
borrowing upon privy seals, and desired that the subjects should not
be forced to lend money to his majesty, nor give a reason for their
refusal. Some murmurs likewise were thrown out in the house against a
new monopoly of the license of wines.[**] It must be confessed, that
forced loans and monopolies were established on many and ancient as
well as recent precedents; though diametrically opposite to all the
principles of a free government.[***] [51]

The house likewise discovered some discontent against the king's
proclamations. James told them, "That though he well knew, by the
constitution and policy of the kingdom, that proclamations were not of
equal force with laws, yet he thought it a duty incumbent on him, and
a power inseparably annexed to the crown, to restrain and prevent such
mischiefs and inconveniencies as he saw growing on the state, against
which no certain law was extant, and which might tend to the great
detriment of the subject, if there should be no remedy provided till
the meeting of a parliament. And this prerogative," he adds, "our
progenitors have in all times used and enjoyed."[****] The intervals
between sessions, we may observe, were frequently so long as to render
it necessary for a prince to interpose by his prerogative. The legality
of this exertion was established by uniform and undisputed practice;
and was even acknowledged by lawyers, who made, however, this difference
between laws and proclamations, that the authority of the former was
perpetual, that of the latter expired with the sovereign who emitted
them.[v] But what the authority could be which bound the subject, yet
was different from the authority of laws, and inferior to it, seems
inexplicable by any maxims of reason or politics: and in this instance,
as in many others, it is easy to see how inaccurate the English
constitution was, before the parliament was enabled, by continued
acquisitions or encroachments, to establish it on fixed principles of
liberty.

* Journ. 28th May, 1610.

** Parliament. Hist. vol. v. p. 241.

*** See note YY, at the end of the volume.

**** Parliament. Hist. vol. v. p. 250.

v Journ. 12th May, 1624.

Upon the settlement of the reformation, that extensive branch of power
which regards ecclesiastical matters, being then without an owner,
seemed to belong to the first occupant; and Henry VIII. failed not
immediately to seize it, and to exert it even to the utmost degree of
tyranny. The possession of it was continued with Edward, and recovered
by Elizabeth; and that ambitious princess was so remarkably jealous of
this flower of her crown, that she severely reprimanded the parliament
if they ever presumed to intermeddle in these matters; and they were
so overawed by her authority as to submit, and to ask pardon on these
occasions. But James's parliaments were much less obsequious. They
ventured to lift up their eyes, and to consider this prerogative. They
there saw a large province of government, possessed by the king alone,
and scarcely ever communicated with the parliament. They were
sensible that this province admitted not of any exact boundary or
circumscription. They had felt that the Roman pontiff, in former ages,
under pretence of religion, was gradually making advances to usurp the
whole civil power. They dreaded still more dangerous consequences from
the claims of their own sovereign, who resided among them, and who, in
many other respects, possessed such unlimited authority. They
therefore deemed it absolutely necessary to circumscribe this branch of
prerogative; and accordingly, in the preceding session, they passed
a bill against the establishment of any ecclesiastical canons without
consent of parliament.[*] But the house of lords, as is usual, defended
the barriers of the throne, and rejected the bill.

In this session, the commons, after passing anew the same bill, made
remonstrances against the proceedings of the high commission court.[**]
It required no great penetration to see the extreme danger to liberty,
arising in a regal government, from such large discretionary powers
as were exercised by that court. But James refused compliance with the
application of the commons. He was probably sensible that, besides
the diminution of his authority, many inconveniencies must necessarily
result from the abolishing of all discretionary power in every
magistrate; and that the laws, were they ever so carefully framed and
digested, could not possibly provide against every contingency; much
less, where they had not as yet attained a sufficient degree of accuracy
and refinement.

* Journ. 2d, 11th December; 5th March, 1606.

** Parliament. Hist. vol. v. p. 247. Kennet, p. 681.

But the business which chiefly occupied the commons during this session,
was the abolition of wardships and purveyance; prerogatives which had
been more or less touched on every session during the whole reign of
James. In this affair the commons employed the proper means which might
entitle them to success: they offered the king a settled revenue, as an
equivalent for the powers which he should part with; and the king was
willing to hearken to terms. After much dispute, he agreed to give up
these prerogatives for two hundred thousand pounds a year, which they
agreed to confer upon him.[*] And nothing remained towards closing the
bargain, but that the commons should determine the funds by which this
sum should be levied. This session was too far advanced to bring so
difficult a matter to a full conclusion; and though the parliament met
again towards the end of the year, and resumed the question, they were
never able to terminate an affair upon which they seemed so intent. The
journals of that session are lost; and as the historians of this
reign are very negligent in relating parliamentary affairs, of whose
importance they were not sufficiently apprised, we know not exactly the
reason of this failure. It only appears, that the king was extremely
dissatisfied with the conduct of the parliament, and soon after
dissolved it. This was his first parliament, and it sat near seven
years.

* We learn from Winwood's Memorials (vol. ii. p. 193) the
reason assigned for this particular sum. "From thence my
lord treasurer came to the price; and here he said, that the
king would no more rise and fall like a merchant. That he
would not have a flower of his crown (meaning the court of
wards) so much tossed; that it was too dainty to be so
handled; and then he said, that he must deliver the very
countenance and character of the king's mind out of his own
handwriting; which before he read, he said he would acquaint
us with a pleasant conceit of his majesty. As concerning the
number of ninescore thousand pounds, which was our number,
he could not affect, because nine was the number of the
poets, who were always beggars, though they served so many
muses; and eleven was the number of the apostles, when the
traitor Judas was away; and therefore might best be affected
by his majesty: but there was a mean number, which might
accord us both; and that was ten: which, says my lord
treasurer, is a sacred number; for so many were God's
commandments, which tend to virtue and edification." If the
commons really voted twenty thousand pounds a year more, on
account of this "pleasant conceit" of the king and the
treasurer, it was certainly the best paid wit, for its
goodness, that ever was in the world.

Amidst all these attacks, some more, some less violent, on royal
prerogative, the king displayed, as openly as ever, all his exalted
notions of monarchy and the authority of princes. Even in a speech to
the parliament where he begged for supply, and where he should naturally
have used every art to ingratiate himself with that assembly, he
expressed himself in these terms: "I conclude, then, the point touching
the power of kings, with this axiom of divinity, that, as to dispute
what God may do, is blasphemy; but what God wills, that divines may
lawfully and do ordinarily dispute and discuss. So is it sedition in
subjects to dispute what a king may do in the height of his power. But
just kings will ever be willing to declare what they will do, if they
will not incur the curse of God. I will not be content that my power be
disputed upon; but I shall ever be willing to make the reason appear of
my doings, and rule my actions according to my laws."[*] Notwithstanding
the great extent of prerogative in that age, these expressions would
probably give some offence. But we may observe, that, as the king's
despotism was more speculative than practical, so the independency
of the commons was, at this time, the reverse; and, though strongly
supported by their present situation, as well as disposition, was too
new and recent to be as yet founded on systematical principles and
opinions.[**] [52]

This year was distinguished by a memorable event, which gave great alarm
and concern in England; the murder of the French monarch by the poniard
of the fanatical Ravaillac. With his death, the glory of the French
monarchy suffered an eclipse for some years; and as that kingdom fell
under an administration weak and bigoted, factious and disorderly,
the Austrian greatness began anew to appear formidable to Europe. In
England, the antipathy to the Catholics revived a little upon this
tragical event; and some of the laws which had formerly been enacted, in
order to keep these religionists in awe, began now to be executed with
greater rigor and severity.[***]

* King James's Works, p. 531.

** See note ZZ at the end of the volume.

*** Kennet, p. 684.

{1611.} Though James's timidity and indolence fixed him, during most
of his reign, in a very prudent inattention to foreign affairs, there
happened this year an event in Europe of such mighty consequence as to
rouse him from his lethargy, and summon up all his zeal and enterprise.
A professor of divinity, named Vorstius, the disciple of Arminius was
called from a German to a Dutch university; and as he differed from his
Britannic majesty in some nice questions concerning the intimate essence
and secret decrees of God, he was considered as a dangerous rival in
scholastic fame, and was at last obliged to yield to the legions of that
royal doctor, whose syllogisms he might have refuted or eluded. If vigor
was wanting in other incidents of James's reign, here he behaved even
with haughtiness and insolence; and the states were obliged, after
several remonstrances, to deprive Vorstius of his chair, and to banish
him their dominions.[*] The king carried no further his animosity
against that professor; though he had very charitably hinted to the
states, "That, as to the burning of Vorstius for his blasphemies and
atheism, he left them to their own Christian wisdom; but surely never
heretic better deserved the flames."[**] It is to be remarked, that, at
this period, all over Europe, except in Holland alone, the practice
of burning heretics still prevailed, even in Protestant countries; and
instances were not wanting in England during the reign of James.

To consider James in a more advantageous light, we must take a view of
him as the legislator of Ireland; and most of the institutions which he
had framed for civilizing that kingdom being finished about this period,
it may not here be improper to give some account of them. He frequently
boasts of the management of Ireland as his masterpiece; and it will
appear, upon inquiry, that his vanity in this particular was not
altogether without foundation.

After the subjection of Ireland by Elizabeth, the more difficult task
still remained; to civilize the inhabitants, to reconcile them to laws
and industry, and to render their subjection durable and useful to the
crown of England. James proceeded in this work by a steady, regular, and
well-concerted plan; and in the space of nine years, according to Sir
John Davis, he made greater advances towards the reformation of that
kingdom, than had been made in the four hundred and forty years which
had elapsed since the conquest was first attempted.[***]

* Kennet, p. 715.

** King James's Works, p. 355.

*** King James's Works, p. 259, edit. 1613.

It was previously necessary to abolish the Irish customs, which supplied
the place of laws, and which were calculated to keep that people forever
in a state of barbarism and disorder.

By the "Brehon" law or custom, every crime, however enormous, was
punished, not with death, but by a fine or pecuniary mulct, which
was levied upon the criminal. Murder itself, as among all the ancient
barbarous nations, was atoned for in this manner; and each man,
according to his rank, had a different rate or value affixed to him,
which if any one were willing to pay, he needed not fear assassinating
his enemy. This rate was called his "eric." When Sir William
Fitzwilliams, being lord deputy, told Maguire, that he was to send a
sheriff into Fermannah, which a little before had been made a county,
and subjected to the English law; "Your sheriff," said Maguire, "shall
be welcome to me: but let me know, beforehand, his eric, or the price of
his head, that, if my people cut it off, I may levy the money upon
the county."[*] As for oppression, extortion, and other trespasses, so
little were they regarded, that no penalty was affixed to them, and no
redress for such offences could ever be obtained.

The customs of "gavelkinde" and "tanistry" were attended with the same
absurdity in the distribution of property.

{1612.} The land, by the custom of gavelkinde, was divided among all the
males of the sept, or family, both bastard and legitimate: and, after
partition made if any of the sept died, his portion was not shared
out among his sons, but the chieftain, at his discretion, made a new
partition of all the lands belonging to that sept, and gave every one
his share.[**] As no man, by reason of this custom, enjoyed the fixed
property of any land; to build, to plant, to enclose, to cultivate, to
improve, would have been so much lost labor.

The chieftains and the tanists, though drawn from the principal
families, were not hereditary, but were established by election, or,
more properly speaking, by force and violence. Their authority was
almost absolute; and, notwithstanding that certain lands were assigned
to the office, its chief profit resulted from exactions, dues,
assessments, for which there was no fixed law, and which were levied at
pleasure.[***]

* Sir John Davis, p. 166.

** Sir John Davis, p. 167

*** Sir John Davis, p. 173

Hence arose that common by-word among the Irish, "That they dwelt
westward of the law which dwelt beyond the river of the Barrow;" meaning
the country where the English inhabited, and which extended not beyond
the compass of twenty miles, lying in the neighborhood of Dublin.[*]

After abolishing these Irish customs, and substituting English law in
their place, James, having taken all the natives under his protection,
and declared them free citizens, proceeded to govern them by a regular
administration, military at well as civil.

A small army was maintained, its discipline inspected, and its pay
transmitted from England, in order to keep the soldiers from preying
upon the country, as had been usual in former reigns. When Odoghartie
raised an insurrection, a reënforcement was sent over, and the flames of
that rebellion were immediately extinguished.

All minds being first quieted by a general indemnity,[**] circuits were
established, justice administered, oppression banished, and crimes and
disorders of every kind severely punished.[***] As the Irish had been
universally engaged in the rebellion against Elizabeth, a resignation
of all the rights which had been formerly granted them to separate
jurisdictions, was rigorously exacted; and no authority, but that of the
king and the law, was permitted throughout the kingdom.[****]

A resignation of all private estates was even required; and when they
were restored, the proprietors received them under such conditions
as might prevent, for the future, all tyranny and oppression over the
common people. The value of the dues which the nobles usually claimed
from their vassals, was estimated at a fixed sum, and all further
arbitrary exactions prohibited under severe penalties.[v]

The whole province of Ulster having fallen to the crown by the attainder
of rebels, a company was established in London for planting new colonies
in that fertile country: the property was divided into moderate shares,
the largest not exceeding two thousand acres: tenants were brought over
from England and Scotland: the Irish were removed from the hills and
fastnesses, and settled in the open country: husbandry and the arts were
taught them: a fixed habitation secured: plunder and robbery punished:
and by these means, Ulster, from being the most wild and disorderly
province of all Ireland, soon became the best cultivated and most
civilized.[v*]

* Sir John Davis, p. 237.

** Sir John Davis, p. 263.

*** Sir John Davis, p. 264, 265, etc

**** Sir John Davis, p. 276.

v Sir John Davis, p. 278.

Such were the arts by which James introduced humanity and justice among
a people who had ever been buried in the most profound barbarism. Noble
cares! much superior to the vain and criminal glory of conquests; but
requiring ages of perseverance and attention to perfect what had been so
happily begun.

A laudable act of justice was about this time executed in England upon
Lord Sanqubir, a Scottish nobleman, who had been guilty of the base
assassination of Turner, a fencing master. The English nation, who
were generally dissatisfied with the Scots, were enraged at this crime,
equally mean and atrocious; but James appeased them, by preferring the
severity of law to the intercession of the friends and family of the
criminal.[*]

* Kennet, p. 688.

CHAPTER XLVII.

JAMES I.

{1612.} This year the sudden death of Henry, prince of Wales, diffused
a universal grief throughout the nation. Though youth and royal birth,
both of them strong allurements, prepossess men mightily in favor of
the early age of princes, it is with peculiar fondness that historians
mention Henry, and, in every respect, his merit seems to have been
extraordinary. He had not reached his eighteenth year, and he already
possessed more dignity in his behavior, and commanded more respect, than
his father, with all his age, learning, and experience. Neither his high
fortune, nor his youth, had seduced him into any irregular pleasures:
business and ambition seem to have been his sole passion. His
inclinations, as well as exercises, were martial. The French ambassador,
taking leave of him, and asking his commands for France, found him
employed in the exercise of the pike: "Tell your king," said he, "in
what occupation you left me engaged."[*] He had conceived great affection
and esteem for the brave Sir Walter Raleigh. It was his saying, "Sure no
king but my father would keep such a bird in a cage."[**]

* The French monarch had given particular orders to his
ministers to cultivate the prince's friendship; who must
soon, said he, have chief authority in England, where the
king and queen are held in so little estimation. See Dep. de
la Boderie, vol. i. p. 402, 415; vol. ii p. 16, 349.

** Coke's Detection, p. 37.

He seems indeed to have nourished too violent a contempt for the king,
on account of his pedantry and pusillanimity; and by that means struck
in with the restless and martial spirit of the English nation. Had he
lived, he had probably promoted the glory, perhaps not the felicity, of
his people. The unhappy prepossession which men commonly entertain
in favor of ambition, courage, enterprise, and other warlike virtues,
engages generous natures, who always love fame, in such pursuits all
destroy their own peace, and that of the rest of mankind.

Violent reports were propagated, as if Henry had been carried off by
poison; but the physicians, on opening his body, found no symptoms to
confirm such an opinion.[*] The bold and criminal malignity of men's
tongues and pens spared not even the king on the occasion. But that
prince's character seems rather to have failed in the extreme of
facility and humanity, than in that of cruelty and violence. His
indulgence to Henry was great, and perhaps imprudent, by giving him a
large and independent settlement, even in so early youth.

* Kennet, p. 690. Coke, p. 37. Welwood, p. 272

{1613.} The marriage of the princess Elizabeth with Frederic, elector
palatine, was finished some time after the death of the prince, and
served to dissipate the grief which arose on that melancholy event. But
this marriage, though celebrated with great joy and festivity, proved
itself an unhappy event to the king, as well as to his son-in-law,
and had ill consequences on the reputation and fortunes of both. The
elector, trusting to so great an alliance, engaged in enterprises
beyond his strength: and the king, not being able to support him in his
distress, lost entirely, in the end of his life, what remained of the
affections and esteem of his own subjects.

Except during sessions of parliament, the history of this reign may more
properly be called the history of the court, than that of the nation.
An interesting object had for some years engaged the attention of the
court; it was a favorite, and one beloved by James with so profuse and
unlimited an affection, as left no room for any rival or competitor.
About the end of the year 1609, Robert Carre, a youth of twenty years of
age, and of a good family in Scotland, arrived in London, after having
passed some time in his travels. All his natural accomplishments
consisted in good looks: all his acquired abilities in an easy air and
graceful demeanor. He had letters of recommendation to his countryman
Lord Hay; and that nobleman no sooner cast his eye upon him, than he
discovered talents sufficient to entitle him immediately to make a great
figure in the government. Apprised of the king's passion for youth and
beauty, and exterior appearance, he studied how matters might be so
managed that this new object should make the strongest impression upon
him. Without mentioning him at court, he assigned him the office, at a
match of tilting, of presenting to the king his buckler and device; and
hoped that he would attract the attention of the monarch. Fortune proved
favorable to his design, by an incident which bore at first a contrary
aspect. When Carre was advancing to execute his office, his unruly horse
flung him, and broke his leg in the king's presence. James approached
him with pity and concern: love and affection arose on the sight of his
beauty and tender years; and the prince ordered him immediately to be
lodged in the palace, and to be carefully attended. He himself, after
the tilting, paid him a visit in his chamber, and frequently returned
during his confinement. The ignorance and simplicity of the boy finished
the conquest begun by his exterior graces and accomplishments. Other
princes have been fond of choosing their favorites from among the lower
ranks of their subjects, and have reposed themselves on them with the
more unreserved confidence and affection, because the object has been
beholden to their bounty for every honor and acquisition: James was
desirous that his favorite should also derive from him all his sense,
experience, and knowledge. Highly conceited of his own wisdom, he
pleased himself with the fancy, that this raw youth, by his lessons and
instructions, would, in a little time, be equal to his sagest ministers,
and be initiated into all the profound mysteries of government, on which
he set so high a value. And as this kind of creation was more perfectly
his own work than any other, he seems to have indulged an unlimited
fondness for his minion, beyond even that which he bore to his own
children. He soon knighted him, created him Viscount Rochester, gave
him the garter, brought him into the privy council, and, though at first
without assigning him any particular office, bestowed on him the supreme
direction of all his business and political concerns. Agreeable to this
rapid advancement in confidence and honor, were the riches heaped upon
the needy favorite; and while Salisbury and all the wisest ministers
could scarcely find expedients sufficient to keep in motion the
overburdened machine of government, James, with unsparing hand, loaded
with treasures this insignificant and useless pageant.[*]

* Kennet, p. 685, 686, etc.

It is said, that the king found his pupil so ill educated as to be
ignorant even of the lowest rudiments of the Latin tongue; and that the
monarch, laying aside the sceptre, took the birch into his royal hand,
and instructed him in the principles of grammar. During the intervals
of this noble occupation, affairs of state, would be introduced; and the
stripling, by the ascendant which he had acquired, was now enabled to
repay on political, what he had received in grammatical instruction.
Such scenes, and such incidents, are the more ridiculous, though the
less odious, as the passion of James seems not to have contained in it
any thing criminal or flagitious. History charges herself willingly with
a relation of the great crimes, and still more with that of the great
virtues, of mankind; but she appears to fall from her dignity, when
necessitated to dwell on such frivolous events and ignoble personages.

The favorite was not, at first, so intoxicated with advancement, as not
to be sensible of his own ignorance and inexperience. He had recourse to
the assistance and advice of a friend; and he was more fortunate in his
choice than is usual with such pampered minions. In Sir Thomas Overbury
he met with a judicious and sincere counsellor; who, building all hopes
of his own preferment on that of the young favorite, endeavored to
instil into him the principles of prudence and discretion. By zealously
serving every body, Carre was taught to abate the envy which might
attend his sudden elevation: by showing a preference for the English,
he learned to escape the prejudices which prevailed against his country.
And so long as he was content to be ruled by Overbury's friendly
counsels, he enjoyed--what is rare--the highest favor of the prince,
without being hated by the people.

To complete the measure of courtly happiness, nought was wanting but a
kind mistress; and, where high fortune concurred with all the graces of
youth and beauty, this circumstance could not be difficult to attain.
But it was here that the favorite met with that rock on which all his
fortunes were wrecked, and which plunged him forever into an abyss of
infamy, guilt, and misery.

No sooner had James mounted the throne of England, than he remembered
his friendship for the unfortunate families of Howard and Devereux, who
had suffered for their attachment to the cause of Mary and to his own.
Having restored young Essex to his blood and dignity, and conferred
the titles of Suffolk and Northampton on two brothers of the house of
Norfolk, he sought the further pleasure of uniting these families by the
marriage of the earl of Essex with Lady Frances Howard, daughter of the
earl of Suffolk. She was only thirteen, he fourteen years of age; and it
was thought proper, till both should attain the age of puberty that he
should go abroad, and pass some time in his travels.[*] He returned into
England after four years' absence, and was pleased to find his countess
in the full lustre of beauty, and possessed of the love and admiration
of the whole court. But, when the earl approached, and claimed the
privileges of a husband, he met with nothing but symptoms of aversion
and disgust, and a flat refusal of any further familiarities. He applied
to her parents, who constrained her to attend him into the country, and
to partake of his bed: but nothing could overcome her rigid sullenness
and obstinacy; and she still rose from his side without having shared
the nuptial pleasures. Disgusted with reiterated denials, he at last
gave over the pursuit, and separating himself from her, thenceforth
abandoned her conduct to her own will and discretion.

Such coldness and aversion in Lady Essex arose not without an attachment
to another object. The favorite had opened his addresses, and had been
too successful in making impression on the tender heart of the young
countess.[**] She imagined that, so long as she refused the embraces
of Essex, she never could be deemed his wife; and that a separation and
divorce might still open the way for a new marriage with her beloved
Rochester.[***] Though their passion was so violent, and their
opportunities of intercourse so frequent, that they had already indulged
themselves in all the gratifications of love, they still lamented
their unhappy fate, while the union between them was not entire and
indissoluble. And the lover, as well as his mistress, was impatient till
their mutual ardor should be crowned by marriage.

* Kennet, p. 686.

** Kennet, p. 687.

*** State Trials, vol. i. p. 228.

So momentous an affair could not be concluded without consulting
Overbury, with whom Rochester was accustomed to share all his secrets.
While that faithful friend had considered his patron's attachment to the
countess of Essex merely as an affair of gallantry, he had favored
its progress; and it was partly owing to the ingenious and passionate
letters which he dictated, that Rochester had met with such success in
his addresses. Like an experienced courtier, he thought that a conquest
of this nature would throw a lustre on the young favorite, and would
tend still further to endear him to James, who was charmed to hear of
the amours of his court, and listened with attention to every tale of
gallantry. But great was Overbury's alarm, when Rochester mentioned his
design of marrying the countess; and he used every method to dissuade
his friend from so foolish an attempt. He represented how invidious, how
difficult an enterprise to procure her a divorce from her husband: how
dangerous, how shameful, to take into his own bed a profligate woman,
who, being married to a young nobleman of the first rank, had not
scrupled to prostitute her character, and to bestow favors on the object
of a capricious and momentary passion. And in the zeal of friendship,
he went so far as to threaten Rochester, that he would separate himself
forever from him, if he could so far forget his honor and his interest
as to prosecute the intended marriage.[*]

Rochester had the weakness to reveal this conversation to the countess
of Essex; and when her rage and fury broke out against Overbury, he had
also the weakness to enter into her vindictive projects, and to swear
vengeance against his friend, for the utmost instance which he could
receive of his faithful friendship. Some contrivance was necessary for
the execution of their purpose. Rochester addressed himself to the king;
and after complaining, that his own indulgence to Overbury had begotten
in him a degree of arrogance which was extremely disagreeable, he
procured a commission for his embassy to Russia; which he represented as
a retreat for his friend, both profitable and honorable. When consulted
by Overbury, he earnestly dissuaded him from accepting this offer,
and took on himself the office of satisfying the king, if he should
be anywise displeased with the refusal.[**] To the king again, he
aggravated the insolence of Overbury's conduct, and obtained a warrant
for committing him to the Tower, which James intended as a slight
punishment for his disobedience. The lieutenant of the Tower was a
creature of Rochester's, and had lately been put into the office for
this very purpose: he confined Overbury so strictly, that the unhappy
prisoner was debarred the sight even of his nearest relations, and no
communication of any kind was allowed with him during near six months
which he lived in prison.

* State Trials, vol. i. p. 235, 236, 252. Franklyn, p. 14.

** State Trials, vol. i. p. 236, 237, etc.

This obstacle being removed, the lovers pursued their purpose; and
the king himself, forgetting the dignity of his character, and his
friendship for the family of Essex, entered zealously into the project
of procuring the countess a divorce from her husband. Essex also
embraced the opportunity of separating himself from a bad woman, by whom
he was hated; and he was willing to favor their success by any honorable
expedient. The pretence for a divorce was his incapacity to fulfil the
conjugal duties; and he confessed that, with regard to the countess,
he was conscious of such an infirmity, though he was not sensible of it
with regard to any other woman. In her place, too, it is said, a young
virgin was substituted under a mask, to undergo a legal inspection by
a jury of matrons. After such a trial, seconded by court influence, and
supported by the ridiculous opinion of fascination or witchcraft, the
sentence of divorce was pronounced between the earl of Essex and his
countess.[*] And, to crown the scene, the king, solicitous lest the lady
should lose any rank by her new marriage, bestowed on his minion the
title of earl of Somerset.

Notwithstanding this success, the countess of Somerset was not satisfied
till she should further satiate her revenge on Overbury: and she engaged
her husband, as well as her uncle, the earl of Northampton, in the
atrocious design of taking him off secretly by poison. Fruitless
attempts were reiterated by weak poisons; but at last they gave him one
so sudden and violent, that the symptoms were apparent to every one
who approached him.[**] His interment was hurried on with the greatest
precipitation; and though a strong suspicion immediately prevailed in
the public, the full proof of the crime was not brought to light till
some years after.

* State Trials, vol. i. p. 223, 224, etc.

** Franklyn's Annais. p. 2, 3, etc.

The fatal catastrophe of Overbury increased or begot the suspicion
that the prince of Wales had been carried off by poison given him
by Somerset. Men considered not that the contrary inference was much
juster. If Somerset was so great a novice in this detestable art,
that, during the course of five months, a man who was his prisoner and
attended by none but his emissaries, could not be despatched but in so
bungling a manner, how could it be imagined, that a young prince, living
in his own court, surrounded by his own friends and domestics, could be
exposed to Somerset's attempts, and be taken off by so subtile a poison,
if such a one exist, as could elude the skill of the most experienced
physicians?

The ablest minister that James ever possessed, the earl of Salisbury,
was dead.[*] Suffolk, a man of slender capacity, had succeeded him
in his office; and it was now his task to supply, from an exhausted
treasury, the profusion of James and of his young favorite. The title
of baronet, invented by Salisbury, was sold; and two hundred patents of
that species of knighthood were disposed of for so many thousand pounds;
each rank of nobility had also its price affixed to it:[**] privy
seals were circulated to the amount of two hundred thousand pounds:
benevolences were exacted to the amount of fifty-two thousand
pounds:[***] and some monopolies, of no great value, were erected.
But all these expedients proved insufficient to supply the king's
necessities; even though he began to enter into some schemes for
retrenching his expenses.[****] However small the hopes of success, a
new parliament must be summoned, and this dangerous expedient--for such
it was now become--once more be put to trial.

{1614.} When the commons were assembled, they discovered an
extraordinary alarm, on account of the rumor which was spread abroad
concerning "undertakers."[v] It was reported, that several persons,
attached to the king, had entered into a confederacy; and having laid a
regular plan for the new elections, had distributed their interest all
over England, and had undertaken to secure a majority for the court. So
ignorant were the commons, that they knew not this incident to be the
first infallible symptom of any regular or established liberty. Had they
been contented to follow the maxims of their predecessors, who, as the
earl of Salisbury said to the last parliament, never, but thrice in
six hundred years, refused a supply,[v*] they needed not dread that the
crown should ever interest itself in their elections. Formerly the kings
even insisted, that none of their household should be elected members;
and though the charter was afterwards declared void, Henry VI., from his
great favor to the city of York, conferred a peculiar privilege on its
citizens, that they should be exempted from this trouble.[v**]

* 14th of May, 1612.

** Franklyn, p. 11, 33.

*** Franklyn, p. 10.

**** Franklyn, p. 49.

v Parliament. Hist. vol. v. p. 286. Kennet, p. 696. Journ.
12th April; 2d May, 1614, etc. Franklyn, p. 48.

v* Journ. 17th Feb. 1609. It appears, however, that
Salisbury was somewhat mistaken in this fact; and if the
kings were not oftener refused supply by the parliament, it
was only because they would not often expose themselves to
the hazard of being refused: but it in certain that English
parliaments did anciently carry their frugality to an
extreme, and seldom could be prevailed upon to give the
necessary support to government.

v** Coke's Institutes, part iv. chap. I, of Charters of
Exemption.

It is well known, that, in ancient times, a seat in the house being
considered as a burden, attended neither with honor nor profit, it
was requisite for the counties and boroughs to pay fees to their
representatives. About this time, a seat began to be regarded as an
honor, and the country gentlemen contended for it; though the practice
of levying wages for the parliament men was not altogether discontinued.
It was not till long after, when liberty was thoroughly established, and
popular assemblies entered into every branch of public business, that
the members began to join profit to honor, and the crown found it
necessary to distribute among them all the considerable offices of the
kingdom.

So little skill, or so small means, had the courtiers in James's reign
for managing elections, that this house of commons showed rather a
stronger spirit of liberty than the foregoing; and instead of entering
upon the business of supply, as urged by the king, who made them several
liberal offers of grace,[*] they immediately resumed the subject which
had been opened last parliament, and disputed his majesty's power
of levying new customs and impositions, by the mere authority of his
prerogative. It is remarkable, that, in their debates on this subject,
the courtiers frequently pleaded, as a precedent, the example of all
the other hereditary monarchs in Europe, and particularly mentioned the
kings of France and Spain; nor was this reasoning received by the house
either with surprise or indignation.[**] The members of the opposite
party either contented themselves with denying the justness of the
inference, or they disputed the truth of the observation.[***] And a
patriot member in particular, Sir Roger Owen, even in arguing against
the impositions, frankly allowed, that the king of England was
endowed with as ample a power and prerogative as any prince in
Christendom.[****] The nations on the continent, we may observe, enjoyed
still, in that age, some small remains of liberty; and the English were
possessed of little more.

* Journ. 11th April, 1614.

** Journ. 21st May, 1614.

*** Journ. 12th, 21st May, 1614.

**** Journ. 18th April, 1614.

The commons applied to the lords for a conference with regard to the
new impositions. A speech of Neile, bishop of Lincoln, reflecting on the
lower house, begat some altercation with the peers;[*] [53] and the
king seized the opportunity of dissolving, immediately, with great
indignation, a parliament which had shown so firm a resolution of
retrenching his prerogative, without communicating, in return, the
smallest supply to his necessities. He carried his resentment so far,
as even to throw into prison some of the members who had been the most
forward in their opposition to his measures.[**] In vain did he plead,
in excuse for this violence, the example of Elizabeth, and other
princes of the line of Tudor, as well as Plantagenet. The people and
the parliament, without abandoning forever all their liberties and
privileges, could acquiesce in none of these precedents, how ancient and
frequent soever. And were the authority of such precedents admitted, the
utmost that could be inferred is, that the constitution of England was,
at that time, an inconsistent fabric, whose jarring and discordant parts
must soon destroy each other, and from the dissolution of the old, beget
some new form of civil government, more uniform and consistent.

* See note AAA, at the end of the volume.

** Kennet, p. 696.

In the public and avowed conduct of the king and the house of commons,
throughout this whole reign, there appears sufficient cause of quarrel
and mutual disgust; yet are we not to imagine that this was the sole
foundation of that jealousy which prevailed between them. During debates
in the house, it often happened that a particular member, more ardent
and zealous than the rest, would display the highest sentiments of
liberty, which the commons contented themselves to hear with silence
and seeming approbation; and the king, informed of these harangues,
concluded the whole house to be infected with the same principles, and
to be engaged in a combination against his prerogative. The king, on
the other hand, though he valued himself extremely on his kingcraft,
and perhaps was not altogether incapable of dissimulation, seems to have
been very little endowed with the gift of secrecy; but openly at his
table, in all companies, inculcated those monarchical tenets which he
had so strongly imbibed. Before a numerous audience, he had expressed
himself with great disparagement of the common law of England, and had
given the preference, in the strongest terms, to the civil law: and for
this indiscretion he found himself obliged to apologize, in a speech to
the former parliament.[*] As a specimen of his usual liberty of talk,
we may mention a story, though it passed some time after, which we
meet with in the life of Waller, and which that poet used frequently to
repeat. When Waller was young, he had the curiosity to go to court; and
he stood in the circle, and saw James dine; where, among other company,
there sat at table two bishops, Neile and Andrews. The king proposed
aloud this question, Whether he might not take his subjects' money, when
he needed it, without all this formality of parliament? Neile replied,
"God forbid you should not: for you are the breath of our nostrils."
Andrews declined answering, and said he was not skilled in parliamentary
cases: but upon the king's urging him, and saying he would admit of no
evasion, the bishop replied pleasantly, "Why, then, I think your majesty
may lawfully take my brother Neile's money; for he offers it."[**]

{1615.} The favorite had hitherto escaped the inquiry of justice; but he
had not escaped that still voice which can make itself be heard amidst
all the hurry and flattery of a court, and astonishes the criminal with
a just representation of his most secret enormities. Conscious of the
murder of his friend, Somerset received small consolation from the
enjoyments of love, or the utmost kindness and indulgence of his
sovereign. The graces of his youth gradually disappeared, the gayety
of his manners was obscured, his politeness and obliging behavior were
changed into sullenness and silence. And the king, whose affections had
been engaged by these superficial accomplishments, began to estrange
himself from a man who no longer contributed to his amusement.

The sagacious courtiers observed the first symptoms of this disgust:
Somerset's enemies seized the opportunity, and offered a new minion to
the king. George Villiers, a youth of one-and-twenty, younger brother of
a good family, returned at this time from his travels, and was remarked
for the advantages of a handsome person, genteel air, and fashionable
apparel. At a comedy, he was purposely placed full in James's eye,
and immediately engaged the attention, and, in the same instant, the
affections of that monarch.[***] Ashamed of his sudden attachment, the
king endeavored, but in vain, to conceal the partiality which he felt
for the handsome stranger; and he employed all his profound politics to
fix him in his service, without seeming to desire it.

* King James's Works, p. 532.

** Preface to Waller's Works.

*** Franklyn, p. 50. Kennet, vol. ii. p. 698.

He declared his resolution not to confer any office on him, unless
entreated by the queen; and he pretended, that it should only be in
complaisance to her choice he would agree to admit him near his person.
The queen was immediately applied to; but she, well knowing the extreme
to which the king carried these attachments, refused, at first, to lend
her countenance to this new passion. It was not till entreated by Abbot,
archbishop of Canterbury, a decent prelate, and one much prejudiced
against Somerset, that she would condescend to oblige her husband,
by asking this favor of him.[*] And the king, thinking now that all
appearances were fully saved, no longer constrained his affection, but
immediately bestowed the office of cup-bearer on young Villiers.

* Coke, p. 46, 47. Rush, vol. i. p. 456.

The whole court was thrown into parties between the two minions: while
some endeavored to advance the rising fortunes of Villiers, others
deemed it safer to adhere to the established credit of Somerset. The
king himself, divided between inclination and decorum, increased the
doubt and ambiguity of the courtiers; and the stern jealousy of the old
favorite, who refused every advance of friendship from his rival, begat
perpetual quarrels between their several partisans. But the discovery
of Somerset's guilt in the murder of Overbury at last decided the
controversy, and exposed him to the ruin and infamy which he so well
merited.

An apothecary's apprentice, who had been employed in making up the
poisons, having retired to Flushing, began to talk very freely of the
whole secret; and the affair at last came to the ears of Trumbal, the
king's envoy in the Low Countries. By his means, Sir Ralph Winwood,
secretary of state, was informed; and he immediately carried the
intelligence to James. The king, alarmed and astonished to find such
enormous guilt in a man whom he had admitted into his bosom, sent for
Sir Edward Coke, chief justice, and earnestly recommended to him the
most rigorous and unbiased scrutiny. This injunction was executed with
great industry and severity: the whole labyrinth of guilt was carefully
unravelled: the lesser criminals, Sir Jervis Elvis, lieutenant of the
Tower, Franklin, Weston, Mrs. Turner, were first tried and condemned:
Somerset and his countess were afterwards found guilty. Northampton's
death, a little before, had saved him from a like fate.

It may not be unworthy of remark, that Coke, in the trial of Mrs.
Turner, told her that she was guilty of the seven deadly sins: she was
a whore, a bawd, a sorcerer, a witch, a Papist, a felon, and
a murderer.[*] And, what may more surprise us, Bacon, then
attorney-general, took care to observe, that poisoning was a Popish
trick.[**] Such were the bigoted prejudices which prevailed: poisoning
was not of itself sufficiently odious, if it were not represented as a
branch of Popery. Stowe tells us, that when the king came to Newcastle,
on his first entry into England, he gave liberty to all the prisoners,
except those who were confined for treason, murder, and Papistry. When
one considers these circumstances, that furious bigotry of the
Catholics which broke out in the gunpowder conspiracy, appears the less
surprising.

All the accomplices in Overbury's murder received the punishment due to
their crime: but the king bestowed a pardon on the principals, Somerset
and the countess. It must be confessed, that James's fortitude had been
highly laudable, had he persisted in his first intention of consigning
over to severe justice all the criminals: but let us still beware of
blaming him too harshly, if, on the approach of the fatal hour, he
scrupled to deliver into the hands of the executioner persons whom he
had once favored with his most tender affections. To soften the rigor
of their fate, after some years' imprisonment, he restored them to their
liberty, and conferred on them a pension, with which they retired, and
languished out old age in infamy and obscurity. Their guilty loves were
turned into the most deadly hatred; and they passed many years together
in the same house, without any intercourse or correspondence with each
other.[***]

Several historians,[****] in relating these events, have insisted much
on the dissimulation of James's behavior, when he delivered Somerset
into the hands of the chief justice; on the insolent menaces of that
criminal; on his peremptory refusal to stand a trial; and on the extreme
anxiety of the king during the whole progress of this affair.

* State Trials, vol. i. p. 230.

** State Trials, vol. i. p. 242.

*** Kennet, p. 699.

**** Coke, Weldon, etc.

Allowing all these circumstances to be true, of which some are
suspicious, if not palpably false,[*] the great remains of tenderness
which James still felt for Somerset, may, perhaps, be sufficient to
account for them. That favorite was high-spirited, and resolute rather
to perish than live under the infamy to which he was exposed. James was
sensible, that the pardoning of so great a criminal, which was of itself
invidious, would become still more unpopular, if his obstinate and
stubborn behavior on his trial should augment the public hatred against
him.[**] At least, the unreserved confidence in which the king had
indulged his favorite for several years, might render Somerset master of
so many secrets, that it is impossible, without further light, to assign
the particular reason of that superiority which, it is said, he appeared
so much to assume.

The fall of Somerset, and his banishment from court, opened the way for
Villiers to mount up at once to the full height of favor, of honors,
and of riches. Had James's passion been governed by common rules of
prudence, the office of cup-bearer would have attached Villiers to his
person, and might well have contented one of his age and family; nor
would any one, who was not cynically austere, have much censured the
singularity of the king's choice in his friends and favorites. But such
advancement was far inferior to the fortune which he intended for his
minion. In the course of a few years, he created him Viscount Villiers,
earl, marquis, and duke of Buckingham, knight of the garter, master of
the horse, chief justice in eyre, warden of the cinque ports, master of
the king's bench office, steward of Westminster, constable of Windsor,
and lord high admiral of England. His mother obtained the title of
countess of Buckingham: his brother was created Viscount Purbeck; and
a numerous train of needy relations were all pushed up into credit and
authority. And thus the fond prince, while he meant to play the tutor to
his favorite, and to train him up in the rules of prudence and politics,
took an infallible method, by loading him with premature and exorbitant
honors, to render him, forever, rash, precipitate, and insolent.

* See Biog. Brit, article Coke, p. 1384.

** Bacon, vol.iv. p. 617.

*** Franklyn, p. 30. Clarendon, 8vo. edit. vol. i. p. 10

{1616.} A young minion to gratify with pleasure, a necessitous family to
supply with riches, were enterprises too great for the empty exchequer
of James. In order to obtain a little money, the cautionary towns must
be delivered up to the Dutch; a measure which has been severely blamed
by almost all historians; and I may venture to affirm, that it has been
censured much beyond its real weight and importance.

When Queen Elizabeth advanced money for the support of the infant
republic, besides the view of securing herself against the power and
ambition of Spain, she still reserved the prospect of reimbursement;
and she got consigned into her hands the three important fortresses of
Flushing, the Brille, and Rammekins, as pledges for the money due to
her. Indulgent to the necessitous condition of the states, she agreed
that the debt should bear no interest; and she stipulated, that if ever
England should make a separate peace with Spain, she should pay the
troops which garrisoned those fortresses.[*]

After the truce was concluded between Spain and the United Provinces,
the states made an agreement with the king, that the debt, which then
amounted to eight hundred thousand pounds, should be discharged by
yearly payments of forty thousand pounds; and as five years had elapsed,
the debt was now reduced to six hundred thousand pounds; and in
fifteen years more, if the truce were renewed, it would be finally
extinguished.[**]

* Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 341. Winwood, vol. ii. p. 351.

** Sir Dudley Carleton's Letters, p. 27, 28.

But of this sum, twenty-six thousand pounds a year were expended on the
pay of the garrisons: the remainder alone accrued to the king: and the
states, weighing these circumstances, thought that they made James a
very advantageous offer, when they expressed their willingness, on the
surrender of the cautionary towns to pay him immediately two hundred and
fifty thousand pounds, and to incorporate the English garrisons in their
army. It occurred also to the king, that even the payment of the forty
thousand pounds a year was precarious, and depended on the accident that
the truce should be renewed between Spain and the republic: if war broke
out, the maintenance of the garrisons lay upon England alone; a burden
very useless, and too heavy for the slender revenues of that kingdom:
that even during the truce, the Dutch, straitened by other expenses,
were far from being regular in their payments; and the garrisons were at
present in danger of mutinying for want of subsistence: that the annual
sum of fourteen thousand pounds, the whole saving on the Dutch payments,
amounted, in fifteen years, to no more than two hundred and ten thousand
pounds; whereas two hundred and fifty thousand pounds were offered
immediately, a larger sum; and if money be computed at ten per cent.,
the current interest more than double the sum to which England was
entitled:[*] that if James waited till the whole debt were discharged,
the troops which composed the garrisons remained a burden upon him, and
could not be broken, without receiving some consideration for their past
services: that the cautionary towns were only a temporary restraint
upon the Hollanders; and, in the present emergence, the conjunction of
interest between England and the republic was so intimate as to render
all other ties superfluous; and no reasonable measures for mutual
support would be wanting from the Dutch, even though freed from the
dependence of these garrisons: that the exchequer of the republic was at
present very low, insomuch that they found difficulty, now that the
aids of France were withdrawn, to maintain themselves in that posture
of defence which was requisite during the truce with Spain: and that the
Spaniards were perpetually insisting with the king on the restitution of
these towns, as belonging to their crown; and no cordial alliance could
ever be made with that nation, while they remained in the hands of the
English.[**] These reasons, together with his urgent wants, induced the
king to accept of Caron's offer; and he evacuated the cautionary towns,
which held the states in a degree of subjection, and which an ambitious
and enterprising prince would have regarded as his most valuable
possessions. This is the date of the full liberty of the Dutch
commonwealth.

* An annuity of fourteen thousand pounds during fifteen
years, money being at ten per cent., is worth, on
computation, only one hundred and six thousand five hundred
pounds; whereas the king received two hundred and fifty
thousand pounds. Yet the bargain was good for the Dutch, as
well as the king; because they were both of them freed from
the maintenance of useless garrisons.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 3.

{1617.} When the crown of England devolved on James, it might have been
foreseen by the Scottish nation, that the independence of their kingdom,
the object for which their ancestors had shed so much blood, would now
be lost; and that, if both states persevered in maintaining separate
laws and parliaments, the weaker would more sensibly feel the
subjection, than if it had been totally subdued by force of arms.
But these views did not generally occur. The glory of having given a
sovereign to their powerful enemy, the advantages of present peace and
tranquillity, the riches acquired from the munificence of their master;
these considerations secured their dutiful obedience to a prince who
daily gave such sensible proofs of his friendship and partiality towards
them. Never had the authority of any king who resided among them, been
so firmly established as was that of James, even when absent; and as
the administration had been hitherto conducted with great order and
tranquillity, there had happened no occurrence to draw thither our
attention. But this summer the king was resolved to pay a visit to
his native country, in order to renew his ancient friendships and
connections, and to introduce that change of ecclesiastical discipline
and government on which he was extremely intent. The three chief points
of this kind, which James proposed to accomplish by his journey to
Scotland, were the enlarging of episcopal authority, the establishing of
a few ceremonies in public worship, and the fixing of a superiority in
the civil above the ecclesiastical jurisdiction.

But it is an observation suggested by all history, and by none more than
by that of James and his successor, that the religious spirit, when
it mingles with faction, contains in it something supernatural and
unaccountable; and that, in its operations upon society, effects
correspond less to their known causes than is found in any other
circumstance of government; a reflection which may at once afford
a source of blame against such sovereigns as lightly innovate in so
dangerous an article, and of apology for such as, being engaged in an
enterprise of that nature, are disappointed of the expected event, and
fail in their undertakings.

When the Scottish nation was first seized with that zeal for
reformation, which, though it caused such disturbance during the time,
has proved so salutary in the consequences, the preachers, assuming a
character little inferior to the prophetic or apostolical, disdained
all subjection to the spiritual rulers of the church, by whom their
innovations were punished and opposed. The revenues of the dignified
clergy, no longer considered as sacred, were either appropriated by
the present possessors, or seized by the more powerful barons; and what
remained, after mighty dilapidations, was, by act of parliament, annexed
to the crown. The prelates, however, and abbots, maintained their
temporal jurisdictions and their seats in parliament; and though
laymen were sometimes endowed with ecclesiastical titles, the church,
notwithstanding its frequent protestations to the contrary, was still
supposed to be represented by those spiritual lords in the states of the
kingdom. After many struggles, the king, even before his accession
to the throne of England, had acquired sufficient influence over
the Scottish clergy, to extort from them an acknowledgment of the
parliamentary jurisdiction of bishops; though attended with many
precautions, in order to secure themselves against the spiritual
encroachments of that order.[*] When king of England, he engaged them,
though still with great reluctance on their part, to advance a
step further, and to receive the bishops as perpetual presidents
or moderators in their ecclesiastical synods; reiterating their
protestations against all spiritual jurisdiction of the prelates, and
all controlling power over the presbyters.[**] And by such gradual
innovations, the king flattered himself that he should quietly introduce
episcopal authority: but as his final scope was fully seen from the
beginning, every new advance gave fresh occasion of discontent, and
aggravated, instead of softening, the abhorrence entertained against the
prelacy.

* 1598.

** 1606.

What rendered the king's aim more apparent, were the endeavors which, at
the same time, he used to introduce into Scotland some of the ceremonies
of the church of England: the rest, it was easily foreseen, would
soon follow. The fire of devotion, excited by novelty, and inflamed by
opposition, had so possessed the minds of the Scottish reformers, that
all rites and ornaments, and even order of worship, were disdainfully
rejected as useless burdens; retarding the imagination in its rapturous
ecstasies, and cramping the operations of that divine spirit by
which they supposed themselves to be animated. A mode of worship
was established, the most naked and most simple imaginable; one that
borrowed nothing from the senses, but reposed itself entirely on the
contemplation of that divine essence which discovers itself to the
understanding only. This species of devotion, so worthy of the Supreme
Being, but so little suitable to human frailty, was observed to occasion
great disturbances in the breast, and in many respects to confound all
rational principles of conduct and behavior. The mind, straining for
these extraordinary raptures, reaching them by short glances, sinking
again under its own weakness, rejecting all exterior aid of pomp and
ceremony, was so occupied in this inward life, that It fled from every
intercourse of society, and from every cheerful amusement which could
soften or humanize the character. It was obvious to all discerning eyes,
and had not escaped the king's, that, by the prevalence of fanaticism,
a gloomy and sullen disposition established itself among the people;
a spirit obstinate and dangerous; independent and disorderly; animated
equally with a contempt of authority, and a hatred to every other mode
of religion, particularly to the Catholic. In order to mellow these
humors, James endeavored to infuse a small tincture of ceremony into the
national worship, and to introduce such rites as might, in some degree,
occupy the mind, and please the senses, without departing too far from
that simplicity by which the reformation was distinguished. The finer
arts too, though still rude in these northern kingdoms, were employed
to adorn the churches; and the king's chapel, in which an organ was
erected, and some pictures and statues displayed, was proposed as a
model to the rest of the nation. But music was grating to the
prejudiced ears of the Scottish; clergy; sculpture and painting appeared
instruments of idolatry the surplice was a rag of Popery; and every
motion or gesture prescribed by the liturgy, was a step towards that
spiritual Babylon, so much the object of their horror and aversion.
Every thing was deemed impious but their own mystical comments on the
Scriptures, which they idolized, and whose Eastern prophetic style they
employed in every common occurrence.

It will not be necessary to give a particular account of the ceremonies
which the king was so intent to establish. Such institutions, for a
time, are esteemed either too divine to have proceeded from any other
being than the Supreme Creator of the universe, or too diabolical to
have been derived from any but an infernal demon. But no sooner is the
mode of the controversy past, than they are universally discovered to be
of so little importance, as scarcely to be mentioned with decency amidst
the ordinary course of human transactions. It suffices here to remark,
that the rites introduced by James regarded the kneeling at the
sacrament, private communion, private baptism, confirmation of children,
and the observance of Christmas and other festivals.[*]

* Franklyn, p. 25. Spotswood.

The acts establishing these ceremonies were afterwards known by the name
of the Articles of Perth, from the place where they were ratified by the
assembly.

A conformity of discipline and worship between the churches of England
and Scotland, which was James's aim, he never could hope to establish,
but by first procuring an acknowledgment of his own authority in all
spiritual causes; and nothing could be more contrary to the practice as
well as principles of the Presbyterian clergy. The ecclesiastical courts
possessed the power of pronouncing excommunication; and that sentence,
besides the spiritual consequences supposed to follow from it, was
attended with immediate effects of the most important nature. The person
excommunicated was shunned by every one as profane and impious; and his
whole estate, during his lifetime, and all his movables, forever, were
forfeited to the crown. Nor were the previous steps requisite before
pronouncing this sentence, formal or regular, in proportion to the
weight of it. Without accuser, without summons, without trial, any
ecclesiastical court, however inferior, sometimes pretended, in a
summary manner, to denounce excommunication, for any cause, and
against any person, even though he lived not within the bounds of
their jurisdiction.[*] And, by this means, the whole tyranny of the
inquisition, though without its order, was introduced into the kingdom.

But the clergy were not content with the unlimited jurisdiction which
they exercised in ecclesiastical matters: they assumed a censorial power
over every part of administration; and, in all their sermons, and even
prayers, mingling politics with religion, they inculcated the most
seditious and most turbulent principles. Black, minister of St.
Andrew's, went so far,[**] in a sermon, as to pronounce all kings
the devil's children; he gave the queen of England the appellation of
atheist; he said, that the treachery of the king's heart was now fully
discovered; and in his prayers for the queen he used these words: "We
must pray for her for the fashion's sake, but we have no cause: she
will never do us any good." When summoned before the privy council,
he refused to answer to a civil court for any thing delivered from the
pulpit, even though the crime of which he was accused was of a civil
nature. The church adopted his cause. They raised a sedition in
Edinburgh.[***]

* Spotswood.

** 1596.

*** 17th Dec. 1596.

The king, during some time, was in the hands of the enraged populace;
and it was not without courage, as well as dexterity, that he was able
to extricate himself.[*] A few days after, a minister, preaching in the
principal church of that capital, said, that the king was possessed with
a devil; and that, one devil being expelled, seven worse had entered in
his place.[**] To which he added, that the subjects might lawfully rise,
and take the sword out of his hand. Scarcely, even during the darkest
night of Papal superstition, are there found such instances of priestly
encroachments, as the annals of Scotland present to us during that
period.

By these extravagant stretches of power, and by the patient conduct of
James, the church began to lose ground, even before the king's accession
to the throne of England; but no sooner had that event taken place, than
he made the Scottish clergy sensible that he was become the sovereign
of a great kingdom, which he governed with great, authority. Though
formerly he would have thought himself happy to have made a fair
partition with them of the civil and ecclesiastical authority, he was
now resolved to exert a supreme jurisdiction in church as well as state,
and to put an end to their seditious practices. An assembly had been
summoned at Aberdeen;[***] but, on account of his journey to London, he
prorogued it to the year following. Some of the clergy, disavowing
his ecclesiastical supremacy, met at the time first appointed,
notwithstanding his prohibition. He threw them into prison. Such of them
as submitted, and acknowledged their error, were pardoned. The rest were
brought to their trial. They were condemned for high treason. The
king gave them their lives, but banished them the kingdom. Six of them
suffered this penalty.[****]

The general assembly was afterwards induced[v] to acknowledge the king's
authority in summoning ecclesiastical courts, and to submit to the
jurisdiction and visitation of the bishops Even their favorite sentence
of excommunication was declared invalid, unless confirmed by the
ordinary. The king recommended to the inferior courts the members whom
they should elect to this assembly; and every thing was conducted in it
with little appearance of choice and liberty.[v*]

* Spotswood.

** Spotswood.

*** July, 1604.

**** Spotswood.

V 6th June, 1610.

v* Spotswood.

By his own prerogative, likewise, which he seems to have stretched
on this occasion, the king erected a court of high commission,[*] in
imitation of that which was established in England. The bishops and a
few of the clergy, who had been summoned, willingly acknowledged this
court; and it proceeded immediately upon business, as if its authority
had been grounded on the full consent of the whole legislature.

But James reserved the final blow for the time when he should himself
pay a visit to Scotland. He proposed to the parliament, which was then
assembled, that they should enact, that "whatever his majesty should
determine in the external government of the church, with the consent of
the archbishops, bishops, and a competent number of the ministry, should
have the force of law."[**] What number should be deemed competent was
not determined; and their nomination was left entirely to the king: so
that his ecclesiastical authority, had this bill passed, would have
been established in its full extent. Some of the clergy protested. They
apprehended, they said, that the purity of their church would, by means
of this new authority, be polluted with all the rites and liturgy of
the church of England. James, dreading clamor and opposition dropped the
bill, which had already passed the lords of articles; and asserted,
that the inherent prerogative of the crown contained more power than was
recognized by it. Some time after, he called, at St. Andrew's, a meeting
of the bishops and thirty-six of the most eminent clergy. He
there declared his resolution of exerting his prerogative, and of
establishing, by his own authority, the few ceremonies which he had
recommended to them. They entreated him rather to summon a general
assembly, and to gain their assent. An assembly was accordingly summoned
to meet on the twenty-fifth of November ensuing.

* 15th Feb. 1610.

** Spotswood. Franklyn, p. 29.

Yet this assembly, which met after the king's departure from Scotland,
eluded all his applications; and it was not till the subsequent year,
that he was able to procure a vote for receiving his ceremonies. And
through every step in this affair, in the parliament as well as in all
the general assemblies, the nation betrayed the utmost reluctance to all
these innovations, and nothing but James's importunity and authority had
extorted a seeming consent, which was belied by the inward sentiments
of all ranks of people. Even the few over whom religious prejudices were
not prevalent, thought national honor sacrificed by a servile imitation
of the modes worship practised in England. And every prudent man agreed
in condemning the measures of the king, who, by an ill-timed zeal for
insignificant ceremonies, had betrayed, though in an opposite manner,
equal narrowness of mind with the persons whom he treated with such
contempt. It was judged that, had not these dangerous humors been
irritated by opposition; had they been allowed peaceably to evaporate;
they would at last have subsided within the limits of law and civil
authority; and that, as all fanatical religions naturally circumscribe
to very narrow bounds the numbers and riches of the ecclesiastics, no
sooner is their first fire spent, than they lose their credit over the
people, and leave them under the natural and beneficent influence of
their civil and moral obligations.

At the same time that James shocked, in so violent a manner, the
religious principles of his Scottish subjects, he acted in opposition to
those of his English. He had observed, in his progress through England,
that a Judaical observance of the Sunday, chiefly by means of the
Puritans, was every day gaining ground throughout the kingdom; and that
the people, under color of religion, were, contrary to former practice
debarred such sports, and recreations as contributed both to their
health and their amusement.[*] Festivals, which, in other nations
and ages, are partly dedicated to public worship, partly to mirth and
society, were here totally appropriated to the offices of religion, and
served to nourish those sullen and gloomy contemplations to which the
people were, of themselves, so unfortunately subject. The king imagined,
that it would be easy to infuse cheerfulness into this dark spirit of
devotion. He issued a proclamation to allow and encourage, after divine
service, all kinds of lawful games and exercises; and, by his authority,
he endeavored to give sanction to a practice which his subjects regarded
as the utmost instance of profaneness and impiety.[**]

* Kennet, p. 709.

** Franklyn, p. 31.

To show how rigid the English, chiefly the Puritans, were become in
this particular, a bill was introduced into the house of commons, in the
eighteenth of the king, for the more strict observance of the Sunday,
which they affected to the Sabbath. One Shepherd opposed this bill,
objected to the appellation of Sabbath as Puritanical, defended dancing
by the example of David, and seems even to have justified sports on that
day. For this profaneness he was expelled the house, by the suggestion
of Mr. Pym the house of lords opposed so far this Puritanical spirit of
the commons that they proposed that the appellation of Sabbath should
be changed into that of the Lord's day.[*]

* Journ. 15th, 16th, Feb. 1620. 28th May, 1621. In
Shepherd's sentence, his offence is said by the house to be
great, exorbitant, unparalleled.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

JAMES I.

{1618.} At the time when Sir Waller Raleigh was first confined in
the Tower, his violent and haughty temper had rendered him the most
unpopular man in England; and his condemnation was chiefly owing to
that public odium under which he labored. During the thirteen years'
imprisonment which he suffered, the sentiments of the nation were much
changed with regard to him. Men had leisure to reflect on the hardship,
not to say injustice, of his sentence; they pitied his active and
enterprising spirit, which languished in the rigors of confinement; they
were struck with the extensive genius of the man, who, being educated
amidst naval and military enterprises, had surpassed, in the pursuits of
literature, even those of the most recluse and sedentary lives; and
they admired his unbroken magnanimity, which, at his age, and under his
circumstances, could engage him to undertake and execute so great a work
as his History of the World. To increase these favorable dispositions,
on which he built the hopes of recovering his liberty, he spread the
report of a golden mine which he had discovered in Guiana, and which was
sufficient, according to his representation, not only to enrich all the
adventurers, but to afford immense treasures to the nation. The king
gave little credit to these mighty promises; both because he believed
that no such mine as the one described was any where in nature, and
because he considered Raleigh as a man of desperate fortunes, whose
business it was, by any means, to procure his freedom, and to reinstate
himself in credit and authority. Thinking, however, that he had already
undergone sufficient punishment, he released him from the Tower; and
when his vaunts of the golden mine had induced multitudes to engage with
him, the king gave them permission to try the adventure, and, at their
desire, he conferred on Raleigh authority over his fellow-adventurers.
Though strongly solicited, he still refused to grant him a pardon, which
he deemed a natural consequence, when he was intrusted with power
and command. But James declared himself still diffident of Raleigh's
intentions; and he meant, he said, to reserve the former sentence, as a
check upon his future behavior.

Raleigh well knew that it was far from the king's purpose to invade any
of the Spanish settlements: he therefore firmly denied that Spain had
planted any colonies on that part of the coast where his mine lay. When
Gondomar, the ambassador of that nation, alarmed at his preparations,
carried complaints to the king, Raleigh still protested the innocence of
his intentions; and James assured Gondomar, that he durst not form
any hostile attempt, but should pay with his head for so audacious an
enterprise. The minister, however, concluding that twelve armed vessels
were not fitted out without some purpose of invasion, conveyed the
intelligence to the court of Madrid, who immediately gave orders for
arming and fortifying all their settlements, particularly those along
the coast of Guiana.

When the courage and avarice of the Spaniards and Portuguese had
discovered so many new worlds, they were resolved to show themselves
superior to the barbarous heathens whom they invaded, not only in
arts and arms, but also in the justice of the quarrel: they applied
to Alexander VI.., who then filled the papal chair; and he generously
bestowed on the Spaniards the whole western, and on the Portuguese the
whole eastern part of the globe. The more scrupulous Protestants, who
acknowledged not the authority of the Roman pontiff, established the
first discovery as the foundation of _their_ title; and if a pirate or
sea adventurer of their nation had but erected a stick or a stone on the
coast, as a memorial of his taking possession, they concluded the whole
continent to belong to them, and thought themselves entitled to expel or
exterminate, as usurpers, the ancient possessors and inhabitants It was
in this manner that Sir Walter Raleigh, about twenty-three years before,
had acquired to the crown of England a claim to the continent of Guiana,
a region as large as the half of Europe; and though he had immediately
left the coast, yet he pretended that the English title to the whole
remained certain and indefeasible. But it had happened in the mean time,
that the Spaniards, not knowing, or not acknowledging, this imaginary
claim, had taken possession of a part of Guiana, had formed a settlement
on the River Oronooko, had built a little town called St. Thomas, and
were there working some mines of small value.

To this place Raleigh directly bent his course; and, remaining himself
at the mouth of the river with five of the largest ships, he sent up the
rest to St. Thomas, under the command of his son, and of Captain Keymis,
a person entirely devoted to him. The Spaniards, who had expected this
invasion, fired on the English at their landing, were repulsed, and
pursued into the town. Young Raleigh, to encourage his men, called out,
"That this was the true mine, and none but fools looked for any
other;" and, advancing upon the Spaniards, received a shot, of which
he immediately expired. This dismayed not Keymis and the others. They
carried on the attack, got possession of the town, which they afterwards
reduced to ashes; and found not in it any thing of value.

Raleigh did not pretend that he had himself seen the mine which he had
engaged so many people to go in quest of: it was Keymis, he said, who
had formerly discovered it, and had brought him that lump of ore, which
promised such immense treasures. Yet Keymis, who owned that he was
within two hours' march of the place, refused, on the most absurd
pretences, to take any effectual step towards finding it; and he
returned immediately to Raleigh, with the melancholy news of his son's
death, and the ill success of the enterprise. Sensible to reproach, and
dreading punishment for his behavior, Keymis, in despair, retired into
his cabin, and put an end to his own life.

The other adventurers now concluded, that they were deceived by Raleigh;
that he never had known of any such mine as he pretended to go in search
of; that his intention had ever been to plunder St. Thomas; and having
encouraged his company by the spoils of that place, to have thence
proceeded to the invasion of the other Spanish settlements; that he
expected to repair his ruined fortunes by such daring enterprises; and
that he trusted to the money he should acquire, for making his peace
with England; or, if that view failed him, that he purposed to retire
into some other country, where his riches would secure his retreat.

The small acquisitions gained by the sack of St. Thomas discouraged
Raleigh's companions from entering into these views; though there were
many circumstances in the treaty and late transactions between the
nations, which might invite them to engage in such a piratical war
against the Spaniards.

When England made peace with Spain, the example of Henry IV. was
imitated, who, at the treaty of Vervins, finding a difficulty in
adjusting all questions with regard to the Indian trade, had agreed to
pass over that article in total silence.

The Spaniards, having all along published severe edicts against the this
silence in their own favor, and considered it as a tacit acquiescence of
England in the established laws of Spain. The English, on the contrary,
pretended that, as they had never been excluded by any treaty from
commerce with any part of the king of Spain's dominions, it was still as
lawful for them to trade with his settlements in either Indies, as
with his European territories. In consequence of this ambiguity, many
adventurers from England sailed to the Spanish Indies, and met with
severe punishment when caught; as they, on the other hand, often stole,
and when superior in power, forced a trade with the inhabitants, and
resisted, nay, sometimes plundered, the Spanish governors. Violences of
this nature, which had been carried to a great height on both sides, it
was agreed to bury in total oblivion; because of the difficulty which
was found in remedying them upon any fixed principles.

But as there appeared a great difference between private adventurers
in single ships, and a fleet acting under a royal commission, Raleigh's
companions thought it safest to return immediately to England, and
carry him along with them to answer for his conduct. It appears that
he employed many artifices, first to engage them to attack the Spanish
settlements, and, failing of that, to make his escape into France: but,
all these proving unsuccessful, he was delivered into the king's hands,
and strictly examined, as well as his fellow-adventurers, before
the privy council. The council, upon inquiry, found no difficulty
in pronouncing, that the former suspicions, with regard to Raleigh's
intentions, had been well grounded; that he had abused the king in the
representations which he had made of his projected adventure; that,
contrary to his instructions, he had acted in an offensive and hostile
manner against his majesty's allies; and that he had wilfully burned
and destroyed a town belonging to the king of Spain. He might have been
tried either by common law, for this act of violence and piracy; or by
martial law, for breach of orders: but it was an established principle
among lawyers,[*] that, as he lay under an actual attainder for high
treason, he could not be brought to a new trial for any other crime.
To satisfy, therefore the court of Spain, which raised the loudest
complaints against him, the king made use of that power which he had
purposely reserved in his own hands, and signed the warrant for his
execution upon his former sentence.[**] [54]

* See this matter discussed in Bacon's Letters published by
Dr Birch, p. 181.

** See note BBB, at the end of the volume.

Raleigh, finding his fate inevitable, collected all his courage and
though he had formerly made use of many mean artifices, such as feigning
madness, sickness, and a variety of diseases, in order to protract his
examination, and procure his escape, he now resolved to act his part
with bravery and resolution, "'Tis a sharp remedy," he said, "but a sure
one for all ills," when he felt the edge of the axe by which he was to
be beheaded.[*] His harangue to the people was calm and eloquent; and he
endeavored to revenge himself, and to load his enemies with the public
hatred, by strong asseverations of facts, which, to say the least, may
be esteemed very doubtful.[**] With the utmost indifference he laid his
head upon the block, and received the fatal blow; and in his death there
appeared the same great, but ill-regulated mind, which, during his life,
had displayed itself in all his conduct and behavior.

* Franklyn, p. 32.

** He asserted, in the most solemn manner, that he had
nowise contributed to Essex's death: but the last letter in
Murden's Collection contains the strongest proof of the
contrary.

No measure of James's reign was attended with more public
dissatisfaction than the punishment of Sir Walter Raleigh. To execute a
sentence which was originally so hard, which had been so long suspended,
and which seemed to have been tacitly pardoned, by conferring on him
a new trust and commission, was deemed an instance of cruelty and
injustice. To sacrifice to a concealed enemy of England the life of the
only man in the nation who had a high reputation for valor and military
experience, was regarded as meanness and indiscretion; and the intimate
connections which the king was now entering into with Spain, being
universally distasteful, rendered this proof of his complaisance still
more invidious and unpopular.

James had entertained an opinion, which was peculiar to himself, and
which had been adopted by none of his predecessors, that any alliance
below that of a great king was unworthy of a prince of Wales; and he
never would allow any princess, but a daughter of France or Spain, to
be mentioned as a match for his son.[*] This instance of pride, which
really implies meanness, as if he could receive honor from any alliance,
was so well known, that Spain had founded on it the hopes of governing,
in the most important transactions, this monarch, so little celebrated
for politics or prudence. During the life of Henry, the king of Spain
had dropped some hints of bestowing on that prince his eldest daughter,
whom he afterwards disposed of in marriage to the young king of France,
Lewis XIII. At that time, the views of the Spaniards were to engage
James into a neutrality with regard to the succession of Cleves, which
was disputed between the Protestant and Popish line;[**] but the bait
did not then take; and James, in consequence of his alliance with the
Dutch, and with Henry IV. of France, marched[***] four thousand men,
under the command of Sir Edward Cecil, who joined these two powers,
and put the marquis of Brandenburgh and the palatine of Newbourg in
possession of that duchy.

Gondomar was at this time the Spanish ambassador in England; a man whose
flattery was the more artful, because covered with the appearance of
frankness and sincerity; whose politics were the more dangerous, because
disguised under the mask of mirth and pleasantry. He now made offer
of the second daughter of Spain to Prince Charles; and, that he might
render the temptation irresistible to the necessitous monarch, he gave
hopes of an immense fortune, which should attend the princess. The
court of Spain, though determined to contract no alliance with a
heretic,[****] entered into negotiations with James, which they artfully
protracted; and, amidst every disappointment, they still redoubled his
hopes of success.[v] The transactions in Germany, so important to the
Austrian greatness, became every day a new motive for this duplicity of
conduct.

* Kennet, p 703, 748

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 2.

*** 1610.

**** La Boderie, vol. ii. p. 30.

v Franklyn, p, 71.

In that great revolution of manners which happened during the sixteenth
and the seventeenth centuries, the only nations who had the honorable,
though often melancholy advantage, of making an effort for their
expiring privileges, were such as, together with the principles of civil
liberty, were animated with a zeal for religious parties and opinions.
Besides the irresistible force of standing armies, the European princes
possessed this advantage, that they were descended from the ancient
royal families; that they continued the same designations of
magistrates, the same appearance of civil government; and restraining
themselves by all the forms of legal administration, could insensibly
impose the yoke on their unguarded subjects. Even the German nations,
who formerly broke the Roman chains, and restored liberty to mankind,
now lost their own liberty, and saw with grief the absolute authority
of their princes firmly established among them. In their circumstances,
nothing but a pious zeal, which disregards all motives of human
prudence, could have made them entertain hopes of preserving any longer
those privileges which their ancestors, through so many ages, had
transmitted to them.

As the house of Austria, throughout all her extensive dominions, had
ever made religion the pretence for her usurpations, she now met with
resistance from a like principle; and the Catholic religion, as usual,
had ranged itself on the side of monarchy; the Protestant, on that of
liberty. The states of Bohemia, having taken arms against the emperor
Matthias, continued their revolt against his successor, Ferdinand, and
claimed the observance of all the edicts enacted in favor of the new
religion, together with the restoration of their ancient laws and
constitution. The neighboring principalities, Silesia, Moravia, Lusatia,
Austria, even the kingdom of Hungary, took part in the quarrel; and
throughout all these populous and martial provinces, the spirit of
discord and civil war had universally diffused itself.[*]

{1619.} Ferdinand II., who possessed more vigor and greater abilities,
though not more lenity and moderation, than are usual with the Austrian
princes, strongly armed himself for the recovery of his authority; and
besides employing the assistance of his subjects, who professed the
ancient religion, he engaged on his side a powerful alliance of the
neighboring potentates. All the Catholic princes of the empire had
embraced his defence; even Saxony, the most powerful of the Protestant:
Poland had declared itself in his favor;[**] and, above all, the Spanish
monarch, deeming his own interest closely connected with that of the
younger branch of his family, prepared powerful succors from Italy, and
from the Low Countries; and he also advanced large sums for the support
of Ferdinand and of the Catholic religion.

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 7, 8.

** Rushworth, vol. i p. 13,14.

The states of Bohemia, alarmed at these mighty preparations, began also
to solicit foreign assistance; and, together with that support which
they obtained from the evangelical union in Germany, they endeavored
to establish connections with greater princes. They cast their eyes on
Frederic, elector palatine. They considered that, besides commanding no
despicable force of his own, he was son-in-law to the king of England,
and nephew to Prince Maurice, whose authority was become almost absolute
in the United Provinces. They hoped that these princes, moved by the
connections of blood, as well as by the tie of their common religion,
would interest themselves in all the fortunes of Frederic, and would
promote his greatness. They therefore made him a tender of their crown,
which they considered as elective; and the young palatine, stimulated
by ambition, without consulting either James[*] or Maurice, whose
opposition he foresaw, immediately accepted the offer, and marched all
his forces into Bohemia, in support of his new subjects.

The news of these events no sooner reached England, than the whole
kingdom was on fire to engage in the quarrel. Scarcely was the ardor
greater, with which all the states of Europe, in former ages, flew to
rescue the Holy Land from the dominion of infidels. The nation was
as yet sincerely attached to the blood of their monarchs, and they
considered their connection with the palatine, who had married a
daughter of England, as very close and intimate; and when they heard of
Catholics carrying on wars and persecutions against Protestants,
they thought their own interest deeply concerned, and regarded their
neutrality as a base desertion of the cause of God, and of his holy
religion. In such a quarrel they would gladly have marched to the
opposite extremity of Europe, have plunged themselves into a chaos of
German politics, and have expended all the blood and treasure of the
nation, by maintaining a contest with the whole house of Austria, at
the very time and in the very place in which it was the most potent, and
almost irresistible.

But James, besides that his temper was too little enterprising for such
vast undertakings, was restrained by another motive, which had a mighty
influence over him: he refused to patronize the revolt of subjects
against their sovereign. From the very first, he denied to his
son-in-law the title of king of Bohemia.[**]

* Franklyn, p. 49.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 12, 13.

He forbade him to be prayed for in the churches under that appellation;
and though he owned, that he had nowise examined the pretensions,
privileges, and constitution of the revolted states,[*] so exalted was
his idea of the rights of kings, that he concluded subjects must ever be
in the wrong, when they stood in opposition to those who had acquired
or assumed that majestic title. Thus, even in measures founded on true
politics, James intermixed so many narrow prejudices, as diminished his
authority, and exposed him to the imputation of weakness and of error.

{1620.} Meanwhile affairs every where hastened to a crisis. Ferdinand
levied a great force, under the command of the duke of Bavaria and the
count of Bucquoy, and advanced upon his enemy in Bohemia. In the Low
Countries, Spinola collected a veteran army of thirty thousand men.
When Edmonds, the king's resident at Brussels, made remonstrances to the
archduke Albert, he was answered, that the orders for this armament
had been transmitted to Spinola from Madrid, and that he alone knew
the secret destination of it. Spinola again told the minister that his
orders were still sealed; but, if Edmonds would accompany him in
his march to Coblentz, he would there open them, and give him full
satisfaction.[**] It was more easy to see his intentions, than to
prevent their success. Almost at one time it was known in England, that
Frederic, being defeated in the great and decisive battle of Prague,
had fled with his family into Holland, and that Spinola had invaded the
Palatinate, and, meeting with no resistance, except from some princes
of the union, and from one English regiment of two thousand four hundred
men, commanded by the brave Sir Horace Vere,[***] had, in a little time,
reduced the greater part of that principality.

* Franklyn, p. 48.

** Franklyn, p. 44. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 14.

*** Franklyn, p. 42, 43. Rushworth, vol. i p. 15. Kennet, p.
723.

High were now the murmurs and complaints against the king's neutrality
and inactive disposition. The happiness and tranquillity of their own
country became distasteful to the English, when they reflected on the
grievances and distresses of their Protestant brethren in Germany. They
considered not, that their interposition in the wars of the continent,
though agreeable to religious zeal, could not, at that time, be
justified by any sound maxims of politics; that, however exorbitant the
Austrian greatness, the danger was still too distant to give any just
alarm to England; that mighty resistance would yet be made by so many
potent and warlike princes and states in Germany, ere they would yield
their neck to the yoke; that France, now engaged to contract a double
alliance with the Austrian family, must necessarily be soon roused from
her lethargy, and oppose the progress of so hated a rival; that, in the
further advance of conquests, even the interests of the two branches
of that ambitious family must interfere, and beget mutual jealousy and
opposition; that a land war, carried on at such a distance, would waste
the blood and treasure of the English nation, without any hopes of
success; that a sea war, indeed, might be both safe and successful
against Spain, but would not affect the enemy in such vital parts as to
make them stop their career of success in Germany, and abandon all their
acquisitions; and that the prospect of recovering the Palatinate being
at present desperate, the affair was reduced to this simple question,
whether peace and commerce with Spain, or the uncertain hopes of plunder
and of conquest in the Indies, were preferable? a question which, at
the beginning of the king's reign, had already been decided, and perhaps
with reason, in favor of the former advantages.

James might have defended his pacific measures by such plausible
arguments; but these, though the chief, seem not to have been the sole
motives which swayed him. He had entertained the notion, that, as his
own justice and moderation had shone out so conspicuously throughout all
these transactions, the whole house of Austria, though not awed by the
power of England, would willingly, from mere respect to his virtue,
submit themselves to so equitable an arbitration. He flattered himself
that, after he had formed an intimate connection with the Spanish
monarch, by means of his son's marriage, the restitution of the
Palatinate might be procured from the motive alone of friendship and
personal attachment. He perceived not, that his unactive virtue, the
more it was extolled, the greater disregard was it exposed to. He was
not sensible, that the Spanish match was itself attended with such
difficulties, that all his art of negotiation would scarcely be able
to surmount them; much less, that this match could in good policy be
depended on, as the means of procuring such extraordinary advantages.
His unwarlike disposition, increased by age, rivetted him still faster
in his errors, and determined him to seek the restoration of his
son-in-law, by remonstrances and entreaties, by arguments and embassies,
rather than by blood and violence. And the same defect of courage which
held him in awe of foreign nations, made him likewise afraid of shocking
the prejudices of his own subjects, and kept him from openly avowing
the measures which he was determined to pursue. Or, perhaps, he hoped to
turn these prejudices to account; and, by their means, engage his people
to furnish him with supplies, of which their excessive frugality had
hitherto made them so sparing and reserved.[*]

He first tried the expedient of a benevolence, or free gift, from
individuals; pretending the urgency of the case, which would not admit
of leisure for any other measure: but the jealousy of liberty was now
roused, and the nation regarded these pretended benevolences as
real extortions, contrary to law, and dangerous to freedom, however
authorized by ancient precedent. A parliament was found to be the
only resource which could furnish any large supplies; and writs were
accordingly issued for summoning that great council of the nation.[**]
[55]

{1621.} In this parliament there appeared, at first, nothing but duty
and submission on the part of the commons; and they seemed determined to
sacrifice every thing, in order to maintain a good correspondence with
their prince. They would allow no mention to be made of the new customs
or impositions, which had been so eagerly disputed in the former
parliament;[***] the imprisonment of the members of that parliament was
here by some complained of; but, by the authority of the graver and more
prudent part of the house, that grievance was buried in oblivion;[****]
and, being informed that the king had remitted several considerable
sums to the palatine, the commons, without a negative, voted him
two subsidies;[v] and that too at the very beginning of the session,
contrary to the maxims frequently adopted by their predecessors.

* Franklyn, p. 47. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 21

** See note CCC, at the end of the volume.

*** Journ. 5th Dec. 1621.

**** Journ. 12th, 16th Feb. 1620.

v Journ. 16th Feb. 1620.

Afterwards they proceeded, but in a very temperate manner, to the
examination of grievances. They found, that patents had been granted
to Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Michel, for licensing inns and
alehouses; that great sums of money had been exacted, under pretext of
these licenses; and that such innkeepers as presumed to continue their
business without satisfying the rapacity of the patentees, had been
severely punished by fine, imprisonment, and vexatious prosecutions.

The same persons had also procured a patent, which they shared with Sir
Edward Villiers, brother to Buckingham, for the sole making of gold and
silver thread and lace, and had obtained very extraordinary powers for
preventing any rivalship in these manufactures: they were armed with
authority to search for all goods which might interfere with their
patent; and even to punish, at their own will and discretion, the
makers, importers, and venders of such commodities. Many had grievously
suffered by this exorbitant jurisdiction; and the lace which had been
manufactured by the patentees was universally found to be adulterated,
and to be composed more of copper than of the precious metals.

These grievances the commons represented to the king and they met with
a very gracious and very cordial reception. He seemed even thankful
for the information given him; and declared himself ashamed that such
abuses, unknowingly to him, had crept into his administration. "I assure
you," said he, "had I before heard these things complained of, I would
have done the office of a just king, and out of parliament have punished
them, as severely, and peradventure more, than you now intend to do."[*]
A sentence was passed for the punishment of Michel and Mompesson.[**]
It was executed on the former. The latter broke prison and escaped.
Villiers was at that time sent purposely on a foreign employment; and
his guilt, being less enormous, or less apparent, than that of the
others, he was the more easily protected by the credit of his brother
Buckingham.[***]

* Franklyn, p. 51. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 25.

** Franklyn, p. 52. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 27.

**** Yelverton, the attorney-general, was accused by the
commons for drawing the patents for these monopolies, and
for supporting them. He apologized for himself, that he was
forced by Buckingham, and that he supposed it to be the
king's pleasure. The lords were so offended at these
articles of defence, though necessary to the attorney-
general, that they fined him ten thousand pounds to the
king, five thousand to the duke. The fines, however, were
afterwards remitted. Franklyn, p. 55. Rushworth, vol. i. p.
31, 32, etc.

Encouraged by this success, the commons carried their scrutiny, and
still with a respectful hand, into other abuses of importance. The great
seal was at that time in the hands of the celebrated Bacon, created
Viscount St. Albans; a man universally admired for the greatness of his
genius, and beloved for the courteousness and humanity of his behavior.
He was the great ornament of his age and nation; and nought was wanting
to render him the ornament of human nature itself, but that strength of
mind which might check his intemperate desire of preferment, that could
add nothing to his dignity, and might restrain his profuse inclination
to expense, that could be requisite neither for his honor nor
entertainment. His want of economy, and his indulgence to servants, had
involved him in necessities; and, in order to supply his prodigality, he
had been tempted to take bribes, by the title of presents, and that in a
very open manner, from suitors in chancery. It appears that it had been
usual for former chancellors to take presents; and it is pretended that
Bacon, who followed the same dangerous practice, had still, in the
seat of justice, preserved the integrity of a judge, and had given just
decrees against those very persons from whom he had received the wages
of iniquity. Complaints rose the louder on that account, and at last
reached the house of commons, who sent up an impeachment against him to
the peers. The chancellor, conscious of guilt, deprecated the vengeance
of his judges, and endeavored, by a general avowal, to escape the
confusion of a stricter inquiry. The lords insisted on a particular
confession of all his corruptions. He acknowledged twenty-eight
articles; and was sentenced to pay a fine of forty thousand pounds, to
be imprisoned in the Tower during the king's pleasure, to be forever
incapable of any office, place, or employment, and never again to sit in
parliament, or come within the verge of the court.

This dreadful sentence, dreadful to a man of nice sensibility to honor,
he survived five years; and being released in a little time from the
Tower, his genius, yet unbroken, supported itself amidst involved
circumstances and a depressed spirit, and shone out in literary
productions which have made his guilt or weaknesses be forgotten or
overlooked by posterity. In consideration of his great merit, the king
remitted his fine, as well as all the other parts of his sentence,
conferred on him a large pension of one thousand eight hundred pounds
a year, and employed every expedient to alleviate the weight of his age
and misfortunes. And that great philosopher at last acknowledged with
regret, that he had too long neglected the true ambition of a fine
genius; and by plunging into business and affairs, which require much
less capacity, but greater firmness of mind, than the pursuits of
learning, had exposed himself to such grievous calamities.[*]

The commons had entertained the idea, that they were the great patrons
of the people, and that the redress of all grievances must proceed from
them; and to this principle they were chiefly beholden for the regard
and consideration of the public. In the execution of this office, they
now kept their ears open to complaints of every kind; and they carried
their researches into many grievances which, though of no great
importance, could not be touched on without sensibly affecting the king
and his ministers. The prerogative seemed every moment to be invaded;
the king's authority, in every article, was disputed; and James, who was
willing to correct the abuses of his power, would not submit to have
his power itself questioned and denied. After the house, therefore, had
sitten near six months, and had as yet brought no considerable business
to a full conclusion, the king resolved, under pretence of the advanced
season, to interrupt their proceedings; and he sent them word, that he
was determined, in a little time, to adjourn them till next winter. The
commons made application to the lords, and desired them to join in a
petition for delaying the adjournment; which was refused by the upper
house. The king regarded this project of a joint petition as an attempt
to force him from his measures: he thanked the peers for their refusal
to concur in it; and told them, that, if it were their desire, he would
delay the adjournment, but would not so far comply with the request of
the lower house.[**] And thus, in these great national affairs, the same
peevishness, which, in private altercations, often raises a quarrel from
the smallest beginnings, produced a mutual coldness and disgust between
the king and the commons.

* It is thought, that appeals from chancery to the house of
peers first came into practice while Bacon held the great
seal. Appeals, under the form of writs of error, had long
before lain against the courts of law. Blackstone's
Commentaries, vol. iii. p. 454.

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 35.

During the recess of parliament, the king used every measure to render
himself popular with the nation, and to appease the rising ill humor
of their representatives. He had voluntarily offered the parliament to
circumscribe his own prerogative, and to abrogate, for the future, his
power of granting monopolies. He now recalled all the patents of
that kind and redressed every article of grievance, to the number
of thirty-seven, which had ever been complained of in the house of
commons.[*] But he gained not the end which he proposed. The disgust
which had appeared at parting, could not so suddenly be dispelled.
He had likewise been so imprudent as to commit to prison Sir Edwin
Sandys,[**] without any known cause, besides his activity and vigor
in discharging his duty as member of parliament. And, above all, the
transactions in Germany were sufficient, when joined to the king's
cautions, negotiations, and delays, to inflame that jealousy of honor
and religion which prevailed throughout the nation.[***] This summer,
the ban of the empire had been published against the elector palatine;
and the execution of it was committed to the duke of Bavaria.[****] The
Upper Palatinate was, in a little time, conquered by that prince; and
measures were taking in the empire for bestowing on him the electoral
dignity, of which the palatine was then despoiled. Frederic now lived
with his numerous family, in poverty and distress, either in Holland, or
at Sedan with his uncle the duke of Bouillon. And throughout all the new
conquests, in both the Palatinates, as well as in Bohemia, Austria, and
Lusatia, the progress of the Austrian arms was attended with rigors and
severities, exercised against the professors of the reformed religion.

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 36. Kennet, p. 733.

** Journ. 1st December, 1621.

*** To show to what degree the nation was inflamed with
regard to the Palatinate, there occurs a remarkable story
this session. One Floyd, a prisoner in the Fleet, a
Catholic, had dropped some expressions in private
conversation, as if he were pleased with the misfortunes of
the palatine and his wife. The commons were in a flame; and,
pretending to be a court of judicature and of record,
proceeded to condemn him to a severe punishment. The house
of lords checked this encroachment; and, what was
extraordinary, considering the present humor of the lower
house, the latter acquiesced in the sentiments of the peers.
This is almost the only pretension of the English commons in
which they have not prevailed. Happily for the nation, they
have been successful in almost all their other claims. See
Parliamentary History, vol. v. p 428, 429, etc. Journ. 4th,
8th, 12th of May, 1621.

**** Franklyn. p. 73.

The zeal of the commons immediately moved them, upon their assembling,
to take all these transactions into consideration. They framed
a remonstrance, which they intended to carry to the king. They
represented, that the enormous growth of the Austrian power threatened
the liberties of Europe; that the progress of the Catholic religion in
England bred the most melancholy apprehensions, lest it should again
acquire an ascendant in the kingdom; that the indulgence of his majesty
towards the professors of that religion had encouraged their insolence
and temerity; that the uncontrolled conquests made by the Austrian
family in Germany, raised mighty expectations in the English Papists;
but above all, that the prospect of the Spanish match elevated them
so far as to hope for an entire toleration, if not the final
reëstablishment of their religion. The commons, therefore, entreated
his majesty, that he would immediately undertake the defence of the
Palatinate, and maintain it by force of arms; that he would turn his
sword against Spain, whose armies and treasures were the chief
support of the Catholic interest in Europe that he would enter into no
negotiation for the marriage of his son but with a Protestant princess;
that the children of Popish recusants should be taken from their
parents, and be committed to the care of Protestant teachers and
schoolmasters; and that the fines and confiscations to which the
Catholics were by law liable, should be levied with the utmost
severity.[*]

* Franklyn, p. 58, 59. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 40, 41. Kennet,
p. 787.

By this bold step, unprecedented in England for many years, and scarcely
ever heard of in peaceable times, the commons attacked at once all the
king's favorite maxims of government; his cautious and pacific measures,
his lenity towards the Romish religion, and his attachment to the
Spanish alliance, from which he promised himself such mighty advantages.
But what most disgusted him was, their seeming invasion of his
prerogative, and their pretending, under color of advice, to direct his
conduct in such points as had ever been acknowledged to belong solely
to the management and direction of the sovereign. He was at that
time absent at Newmarket; but as soon as he heard of the intended
remonstrance of the commons, he wrote a letter to the speaker, in which
he sharply rebuked the house for openly debating matters far above their
reach and capacity; and he strictly forbade them to meddle with any
thing that regarded his government, or deep matters of state, and
especially not to touch on his son's marriage with the daughter of
Spain, nor to attack the honor of that king, or any other of his friends
and confederates. In order the more to intimidate them, he mentioned
the imprisonment of Sir Edwin Sandys; and though he denied that the
confinement of that member had been owing to any offence committed in
the house, he plainly told them, that he thought himself fully entitled
to punish every misdemeanor in parliament, as well during its sitting
as after its dissolution; and that he intended thenceforward to chastise
any man whose insolent behavior there should minister occasion of
offence.[*]

This violent letter, in which the king, though he here imitated
former precedents, may be thought not to have acted altogether on the
defensive, had the effect which might naturally have been expected
from it: the commons were inflamed, not terrified. Secure of their
own popularity, and of the bent of the nation towards a war with the
Catholics abroad, and the persecution of Popery at home, they little
dreaded the menaces of a prince who was unsupported by military force,
and whose gentle temper would, of itself, so soon disarm his severity.
In a new remonstrance, therefore, they still insisted on their former
remonstrance and advice; and they maintained, though in respectful
terms, that they were entitled to interpose with their counsel in all
matters of government; that to possess entire freedom of speech in their
debates on public business, was their ancient and undoubted right, and
an inheritance transmitted to them from their ancestors; and that if
any member abused this liberty, it belonged to the house alone, who were
witnesses of his offence, to inflict a proper censure upon him.[**]

So vigorous an answer was nowise calculated to appease the king. It
is said, when the approach of the committee who were to present it was
notified to him, he ordered twelve chairs to be brought; for that there
were so many kings a coming.[***]

* Franklyn, p. 60. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 43. Kennet, p. 741.

** Franklyn, p. 60. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 44. Kennet, p.
741.

*** Kennet, p. 43.

His answer was prompt and sharp. He told the house, that their
remonstrance was more like a denunciation of war than an address of
dutiful subjects; that their pretension to inquire into all state
affairs, without exception, was such a plenipotence as none of their
ancestors, even during the reign of the weakest princes, had ever
pretended to; that public transactions depended on a complication of
views and intelligence, with which they were entirely unacquainted;
that they could not better show their wisdom, as well as duty, than by
keeping within their proper sphere;[*] and that in any business which
depended on his prerogative, they had no title to interpose with their
advice, except when he was pleased to desire it. And he concluded with
these memorable words: "And though we cannot allow of your style, in
mentioning your ancient and undoubted right and inheritance, but would
rather have wished that ye had said, that your privileges were derived
from the grace and permission of our ancestors and us, (for the most
of them grew from precedents, which shows rather a toleration than
inheritance,) yet we are pleased to give you our royal assurance, that
as long as you contain yourselves within the limits of your duty, we
will be as careful to maintain and preserve your lawful liberties and
privileges as ever any of our predecessors were, nay, as to preserve our
own royal prerogative."[**]

This open pretension of the king's naturally gave great alarm to the
house of commons. They saw their title to every privilege, if not
plainly denied, yet considered at least as precarious. It might be
fortified by abuse; and they had already abused it. They thought proper,
therefore, immediately to oppose pretension to pretension. They framed a
protestation, in which they repeated all their former claims for freedom
of speech, and an unbounded authority to interpose with their advice and
counsel. And they asserted, "That the liberties, franchises, privileges,
and jurisdictions of parliament, are the ancient and undoubted
birthright and inheritance of the subjects of England."[***]

The king, informed of these increasing heats and jealousies in the
house, hurried to town. He sent immediately for the journals of the
commons; and, with his own hand, before the council, he tore out this
protestation;[****] [56] and ordered his reasons to be inserted in the
council-book. He was doubly displeased, he said, with the protestation
of the lower house, on account of the manner of framing it, as well as
of the matter which it contained.

* "Ne sutor ultra crepidam." This expression is imagined to
be insolent and disobliging: but it was a Latin proverb
familiarly used on all occasions.

** Franklyn, p, 62, 63, 64. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 46, 47
etc. Kennet, p. 743.

**** See note DDD, at the end of the volume.

***** Journ. 18th Dec. 1621.

It was tumultuously voted, at a late hour, and in a thin house; and it
was expressed in such general and ambiguous terms,[*] as might serve for
a foundation to the most enormous claims, and to the most unwarrantable
usurpations upon his prerogative.[**]

The meeting of the house might have proved dangerous after so violent a
breach. It was no longer possible, while men were in such a temper, to
finish any business. The king, therefore, prorogued the parliament,
and soon after dissolved it by proclamation; in which he also made an
apology to the public for his whole conduct.

The leading members of the house, Sir Edward Coke and Sir Robert
Philips, were committed to the Tower; Selden Pym, and Mallory, to other
prisons. As a lighter punishment, Sir Dudley Digges, Sir Thomas Crew,
Sir Nathaniel Rich, Sir James Perrot, joined in commission with others,
were sent to Ireland, in order to execute some business.[***] The king
at that time enjoyed, at least exercised, the prerogative of employing
any man, even without his consent, in any branch of public service.

Sir John Savile, a powerful man in the house of commons, and a zealous
opponent of the court, was made comptroller of the household, a privy
counsellor, and soon after a baron.[****] This event is memorable, as
being the first instance, perhaps, in the whole history of England, of
any king's advancing a man on account of parliamentary interest, and of
opposition to his measures. However irregular this practice, it will
be regarded by political reasoners as one of the most early and most
infallible symptoms of a regular, established liberty.

The king having thus, with so rash and indiscreet a hand, torn off that
sacred veil which had hitherto covered the English constitution, and
which threw an obscurity upon it so advantageous to royal prerogative,
every man began to indulge himself in political reasonings and
inquiries; and the same factions which commenced in parliament, were
propagated throughout the nation. In vain did James, by reiterated
proclamations, forbid the discoursing of state affairs.[v] Such
proclamations, if they had any effect, served rather to inflame the
curiosity of the public. And in every company or society, the late
transactions became the subject of argument and debate.

* Franklyn, p. 65.

** Franklyn, p. 66. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 55.

*** Franklyn, p. 66. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 55.

**** Kennet, p. 749.

v Franklyn, p. 56. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 21, 36, 55. The
king also, in imitation of his predecessors, gave rules to
preachers.

All history, said the partisans of the court, as well as the history
of England, justify the king's position with regard to the origin
of popular privileges; and every reasonable man must allow, that as
monarchy is the most simple form of government, it must first have
occurred to rude and uninstructed mankind. The other complicated and
artificial additions were the successive invention of sovereigns and
legislators; or, if they were obtruded on the prince by seditious
subjects, their origin must appear, on that very account, still more
precarious and unfavorable. In England, the authority of the king, in
all the exterior forms of government, and in the common style of law,
appears totally absolute and sovereign; nor does the real spirit of the
constitution, as it has ever discovered itself in practice, fall much
short of these appearances. The parliament is created by his will; by
his will it is dissolved. It is his will alone, though at the desire of
both houses, which gives authority to laws. To all foreign nations, the
majesty of the monarch seems to merit sole attention and regard. And no
subject who has exposed himself to royal indignation, can hope to live
with safety in the kingdom; nor can he even leave it, according to law,
without the consent of his master. If a magistrate, environed with such
power and splendor, should consider his authority as sacred, and regard
himself as the anointed of Heaven, his pretensions may bear a very
favorable construction. Or, allowing them to be merely pious frauds, we
need not be surprised, that the same stratagem which was practised by
Minos, Numa, and the most celebrated legislators of antiquity, should
now, in these restless and inquisitive times, be employed by the king of
England. Subjects are not raised above that quality, though assembled in
parliament. The same humble respect and deference is still due to their
prince. Though he indulges them in the privilege of laying before him
their domestic grievances, with which they are supposed to be best
acquainted, this warrants not their bold intrusion into every province
of government. And, to all judicious examiners, it must appear, "That
the lines of duty are as much transgressed by a more independent and
less respectful exercise of acknowledged powers, as by the usurpation
of such as are new and unusual."[*]

* Franklyn, p. 70. The pulpit was at that time much more
dangerous than the press. Few people could read, and still
fewer were in the practice of reading.

The lovers of liberty throughout the nation reasoned after a different
manner. It is in vain, said they, that the king traces up the English
government to its first origin, in order to represent the privileges of
parliament as dependent and precarious: prescription, and the practice
of so many ages, must, long ere this time, have given a sanction to
these assemblies, even though they had been derived from an origin no
more dignified than that which he assigns them. If the written records
of the English nation, as asserted, represent parliaments to have arisen
from the consent of monarchs, the principles of human nature, when we
trace government a step higher, must show us, that monarchs themselves
owe all their authority to the voluntary submission of the people. But,
in fact, no age can be shown, when the English government was altogether
an unmixed monarchy; and, if the privileges of the nation have, at
any period, been overpowered by violent irruptions of foreign force or
domestic usurpation, the generous spirit of the people has ever seized
the first opportunity of reëstablishing the ancient government and
constitution. Though in the style of the laws, and in the usual forms
of administration, royal authority may be represented as sacred
and supreme, whatever is essential to the exercise of sovereign
and legislative power must still be regarded as equally divine and
inviolable. Or, if any distinction be made in this respect, the
preference is surely due to those national councils, by whose
interposition the exorbitancies of tyrannical power are restrained, and
that sacred liberty is preserved, which heroic spirits, in all ages,
have deemed more precious than life itself. Nor is it sufficient to
say, that the mild and equitable administration of James affords little
occasion, or no occasion, of complaint. How moderate soever the exercise
of his prerogative, how exact soever his observance of the laws and
constitution, "If he founds his authority on arbitrary and dangerous
principles, it is requisite to watch him with the same care, and to
oppose him with the same vigor, as if he had indulged himself in all the
excesses of cruelty and tyranny."

Amidst these disputes, the wise and moderate in the nation endeavored
to preserve, as much as possible, an equitable neutrality between the
opposite parties; and the more they reflected on the course of public
affairs, the greater difficulty they found in fixing just sentiments
with regard to them. On the one hand, they regarded the very rise of
parties as a happy prognostic of the establishment of liberty; nor
could they ever expect to enjoy, in a mixed government, so invaluable
a blessing, without suffering that inconvenience which, in such
governments, has ever attended it. But when they considered, on the
other hand, the necessary aims and pursuits of both parties, they were
struck with apprehension of the consequences, and could discover no
feasible plan of accommodation between them. From long practice, the
crown was now possessed of so exorbitant a prerogative, that it was not
sufficient for liberty to remain on the defensive, or endeavor to secure
the little ground which was left her: it was become necessary to carry
on an offensive war, and to circumscribe, within more narrow, as well
as more exact bounds; the authority of the sovereign. Upon such
provocation, it could not but happen, that the prince, however just and
moderate, would endeavor to repress his opponents; and, as he stood upon
the very brink of arbitrary power, it was to be feared that he would,
hastily and unknowingly, pass those limits which were not precisely
marked by the constitution. The turbulent government of England, ever
fluctuating between privilege and prerogative, would afford a variety
of precedents, which might be pleaded on both sides. In such delicate
questions, the people must be divided: the arms of the state were still
in their hands: a civil war must ensue; a civil war where no party,
or both parties, would justly bear the blame and where the good and
virtuous would scarcely know what vows to form; were it not that
liberty, so necessary to the perfection of human society, would be
sufficient to bias their affections towards the side of its defenders.

CHAPTER XLIX.

JAMES I.

{1622.} To wrest the Palatinate from the hands of the emperor and the
duke of Bavaria, must always have been regarded as a difficult task for
the power of England, conducted by so unwarlike a prince as James: it
was plainly impossible, while the breach subsisted between him and the
commons. The king's negotiations, therefore, had they been managed with
ever so great dexterity, must now carry less weight with them; and it
was easy to elude all his applications. When Lord Digby, his ambassador
to the emperor, had desired a cessation of hostilities, he was referred
to the duke of Bavaria, who commanded the Austrian armies. The duke of
Bavaria told him, that it was entirely superfluous to form any treaty
for that purpose. "Hostilities are already ceased," said he, "and I
doubt not but I shall be able to prevent their revival, by keeping firm
possession of the Palatinate, till a final agreement shall be concluded
between the contending parties."[*]

* Franklyn, p. 57. Rushworth, vol. i. p 38.

Notwithstanding this insult, James endeavored to resume with the emperor
a treaty of accommodation; and he opened the negotiations at Brussels,
under the mediation of Archduke Albert; and, after his death,
which happened about this time, under that of the infanta: when the
conferences were entered upon, it was found, that the powers of
these princes to determine in the controversy were not sufficient or
satisfactory. Schwartzenbourg, the imperial minister, was expected at
London; and it was hoped that he would bring more ample authority: his
commission referred entirely to the negotiation at Brussels. It was not
difficult for the king to perceive that his applications were neglected
by the emperor; but as he had no choice of any other expedient, and it
seemed the interest of his son-in-law to keep alive his pretensions
he was still content to follow Ferdinand through all his shifts and
evasions. Nor was he entirely discouraged, even when the imperial diet
at Ratisbon, by the influence, or rather authority of the emperor,
though contrary to the protestation of Saxony, and of all the Protestant
princes and cities, had transferred the electoral dignity from the
palatine to the duke of Bavaria.

Meanwhile the efforts made by Frederic for the recovery of his
dominions, were vigorous. Three armies were levied in Germany by his
authority, under three commanders, Duke, Christian of Brunswick, the
prince of Baden-Dourlach, and Count Mansfeldt. The two former generals
were defeated by Count Tilly and the imperialists: the third, though
much inferior in force to his enemies, still maintained the war; but
with no equal supplies of money either from the palatine or the king of
England. It was chiefly by pillage and free quarters in the Palatinate,
that he subsisted his army. As the Austrians were regularly paid,
they were kept in more exact discipline; and James justly became
apprehensive, lest so unequal a contest, besides ravaging the palatine's
hereditary dominions, would end in the total alienation of the people's
affections from their ancient sovereign, by whom they were plundered,
and in an attachment to their new masters, by whom they were
protected.[*] He persuaded, therefore, his son-in-law to disarm, under
color of duty and submission to the emperor; and, accordingly, Mansfeldt
was dismissed from the palatine's service; and that famous general
withdrew his army into the Low Countries, and there received a
commission from the states of the United Provinces.

To show how little account was made of James's negotiations abroad,
there is a pleasantry mentioned by all historians, which, for that
reason, shall have place here. In a farce, acted at Brussels, a courier
was introduced carrying the doleful news, that the Palatinate would
soon be wrested from the house of Austria; so powerful were the succors
which, from all quarters, were hastening to the relief of the despoiled
elector: the king of Denmark had agreed to contribute to his assistance
a hundred thousand pickled herrings, the Dutch a hundred thousand
butter-boxes, and the king of England a hundred thousand ambassadors. On
other occasions, he was painted with a scabbard, but without a sword,
or with a sword which nobody could draw, though several were pulling at
it.[**]

* Parl. Hist. vol. v. p. 484.

** Kennet, p. 749.

It was not from his negotiations with the emperor or the duke of
Bavaria, that James expected any success in his project of restoring the
palatine: his eyes were entirely turned towards Spain; and if he could
effect his son's marriage with the infanta, he doubted not but that,
after so intimate a conjunction, this other point could easily be
obtained. The negotiations of that court being commonly dilatory, it
was not easy for a prince of so little penetration in business, to
distinguish whether the difficulties which occurred were real or
affected; and he was surprised, after negotiating five years on so
simple a demand, that he was not more advanced than at the beginning.
A dispensation from Rome was requisite for the marriage of the infanta
with a Protestant prince; and the king of Spain, having undertaken to
procure that dispensation, had thereby acquired the means of retarding
at pleasure, or of forwarding the marriage, and at the same time of
concealing entirely his artifices from the court of England.

In order to remove all obstacles, James despatched Digby, soon after
created earl of Bristol, as his ambassador to Philip IV., who had lately
succeeded his father in the crown of Spain. He secretly employed Gage as
his agent at Rome, and finding that the difference of religion was the
principal, if not the sole difficulty, which retarded the marriage, he
resolved to soften that objection as much as possible. He issued public
orders for discharging all Popish recusants who were imprisoned; and
it was daily apprehended that he would forbid, for the future, the
execution of the penal laws enacted against them. For this step, so
opposite to the rigid spirit of his subjects, he took care to apologize;
and he even endeavored to ascribe it to his great zeal for the reformed
religion. He had been making applications, he said, to all foreign
princes, for some indulgence to the distressed Protestants; and he was
still answered by objections derived from the severity of the English
laws against Catholics.[*] It might indeed occur to him, that if the
extremity of religious zeal were ever to abate among Christian sects,
one of them must begin; and nothing would be more honorable for England,
than to have led the way in sentiments so wise and moderate.

* Franklyn p. 69. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 63.

Not only the religious Puritans murmured at this tolerating measure of
the king; the lovers of civil liberty were alarmed at so important
an exertion of prerogative. But, among other dangerous articles of
authority, the kings of England were at that time possessed of the
dispensing power; at least, were at the constant practice of exercising
it. Besides, though the royal prerogative in civil matters was then
extensive, the princes, during some late reigns, had been accustomed
to assume a still greater in ecclesiastical. And the king failed not
to represent the toleration of Catholics as a measure entirely of that
nature.

By James's concession in favor of the Catholics, he attained his end.
The same religious motives which had hitherto rendered the court of
Madrid insincere in all the steps taken with regard to the marriage,
were now the chief cause of promoting it. By its means, it was there
hoped the English Catholics would for the future enjoy ease and
indulgence; and the infanta would be the happy instrument of procuring
to the church some tranquillity, after the many severe persecutions
which it had hitherto undergone. The earl of Bristol, a minister of
vigilance and penetration, and who had formerly opposed all alliance
with Catholics,[*] was now fully convinced of the sincerity of Spain;
and he was ready to congratulate the king on the entire completion of
his views and projects.[**] A daughter of Spain, whom he represents
as extremely accomplished, would soon, he said, arrive in England, and
bring with her an immense fortune of two millions of pieces of eight,
or six hundred thousand pounds sterling; a sum four times greater than
Spain had ever before given with any princess, and almost equal to all
the money which the parliament, during the whole course of this reign,
had hitherto granted to the king. But what was of more importance
to James's honor and happiness, Bristol considered this match as an
infallible prognostic of the palatine's restoration; nor would Philip,
he thought, ever have bestowed his sister and so large a fortune, under
the prospect of entering next day into a war with England. So exact was
his intelligence, that the most secret counsels of the Spaniards, he
boasts, had never escaped him;[***] and he found that they had all
along considered the marriage of the infanta and the restitution of
the Palatinate as measures closely connected, or altogether
inseparable.[****]

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 292.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 69.

*** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 272.

**** We find, by private letters between Philip IV. and the
Condé Oliarez, shown by the latter to Buckingham, that the
marriage and the restitution of the Palatinate were always
considered by the court of Spain as inseparable. See
Franklyn, p. 71, 72. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 71, 280, 299,
300. Parl. Hist. vol. vi. p. 66.

However little calculated James's character to extort so vast a
concession; however improper the measures which he had pursued for
attaining that end; the ambassador could not withstand the plain
evidence of facts, by which Philip now demonstrated his sincerity.
Perhaps, too, like a wise man, he considered, that reasons of state,
which are supposed solely to influence the councils of monarchs, are
not always the motives which there predominate; that the milder views
of gratitude, honor, friendship, generosity, are frequently able, among
princes as well as private persons, to counterbalance these selfish
considerations; that the justice and moderation of James had been
so conspicuous in all these transactions, his reliance on Spain, his
confidence in her friendship, that he had at last obtained the cordial
alliance of that nation, so celebrated for honor and fidelity. Or,
if politics must still be supposed the ruling motive of all public
measures, the maritime power of England was so considerable, and the
Spanish dominions so divided, as might well induce the council of Philip
to think, that a sincere friendship with the masters of the sea could
not be purchased by too great concessions.[*] And as James, during so
many years, had been allured and seduced by hopes and protestations, his
people enraged by delays and disappointments, it would probably occur,
that there was now no medium left between the most inveterate hatred and
the most intimate alliance between the nations. Not to mention that, as
a new spirit began about this time to animate the councils of France,
the friendship of England became every day more necessary to the
greatness and security of the Spanish monarch.

All measures being, therefore, agreed on between the parties, nought was
wanting but the dispensation from Rome, which might be considered as a
mere formality.[**] The king, justified by success, now exulted in his
pacific counsels, and boasted of his superior sagacity and penetration;
when all these flattering prospects were blasted by the temerity of a
man whom he had fondly exalted from a private condition, to be the bane
of himself, of his family, and of his people.

* Franklyn, p. 72.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 66.

Ever since the fall of Somerset, Buckingham had governed, with an
uncontrolled sway, both the court and nation; and could James's eyes
have been opened, he had now full opportunity of observing how unfit
his favorite was for the high station to which he was raised. Some
accomplishments of a courtier he possessed: of every talent of a
minister he was utterly destitute. Headlong in his passions, and
incapable equally of prudence and of dissimulation; sincere from
violence rather than candor; expensive from profusion more than
generosity; a warm friend, a furious enemy, but without any choice or
discernment in either; with these qualities he had early and quickly
mounted to the highest rank; and partook at once of the insolence which
attends a fortune newly acquired, and the impetuosity which belongs to
persons born in high stations and unacquainted with opposition.

{1623.} Among those who had experienced the arrogance of this overgrown
favorite, the prince of Wales himself had not been entirely spared; and
a great coldness, if not an enmity, had, for that reason, taken place
between them. Buckingham, desirous of an opportunity which might connect
him with the prince, and overcome his aversion, and, at the same
time envious of the great credit acquired by Bristol in the Spanish
negotiation, bethought himself of an expedient by which he might at once
gratify both these inclinations. He represented to Charles, that persons
of his exalted station were peculiarly unfortunate in their marriage,
the chief circumstance of life; and commonly received into their arms
a bride unknown to them, to whom they were unknown; not endeared
by sympathy, not obliged by service; wooed by treaties alone, by
negotiations, by political interests: that however accomplished the
infanta, she must still consider herself as a melancholy victim of
state, and could not but think with aversion of that day when she was to
enter the bed of a stranger; and, passing into a foreign country and a
new family, bid adieu forever to her father's house and to her native
land: that it was in the prince's power to soften all these rigors and
lay such an obligation on her, as would attach the most indifferent
temper, as would warm the coldest affections: that his journey to Madrid
would be an unexpected gallantry, which would equal all the fictions of
Spanish romance, and, suiting the amorous and enterprising character of
that nation, must immediately introduce him to the princess under the
agreeable character of a devoted lover and daring adventurer: that
the negotiations with regard to the Palatinate, which had hitherto
languished in the hands of ministers, would quickly he terminated by so
illustrious an agent, seconded by the mediation and entreaties of the
grateful infanta: that Spanish generosity, moved by that unexampled
trust and confidence, would make concessions beyond what could be
expected from political views and considerations: and that he would
quickly return to the king with the glory of having reëstablished
the unhappy palatine, by the same enterprise which procured him the
affections and the person of the Spanish princess.[*]

The mind of the young prince, replete with candor, was inflamed by these
generous and romantic ideas suggested by Buckingham. He agreed to make
application to the king for his approbation. They chose the moment of
his kindest and most jovial humor; and, more by the earnestness which
they expressed, than by the force of their reasons, they obtained a
hasty and unguarded consent to their undertaking. And having engaged his
promise to keep their purpose secret, they left him, in order to make
preparations for the journey.

No sooner was the king alone, than his temper, more cautious than
sanguine, suggested very different views of the matter, and represented
every difficulty and danger which could occur. He reflected that however
the world might pardon this sally of youth in the prince, they would
never forgive himself, who, at his years, and after his experience,
could intrust his only son, the heir of his crown, the prop of his age,
to the discretion of foreigners, without so much as providing the frail
security of a safe-conduct in his favor: that if the Spanish monarch
were sincere in his professions, a few months must finish the treaty of
marriage, and bring the infanta into England; if he were not sincere,
the folly was still more egregious of committing the prince into his
hands: that Philip, when possessed of so invaluable a pledge, might well
rise in his demands, and impose harder conditions of treaty: and that
the temerity of the enterprise was so apparent, that the event, how
prosperous soever, could not justify it; and if disastrous, it
would render himself infamous to his people, and ridiculous to all
posterity.[**]

* Clarendon, vol. i. p. 11, 12.

** Clarendon, vol. i. p. 14.

Tormented with these reflections, as soon as the prince and Buckingham
returned for their despatches, he informed them of all the reasons
which had determined him to change his resolution; and he begged them
to desist from so foolish an adventure. The prince received the
disappointment with sorrowful submission and silent tears: Buckingham
presumed to speak in an imperious tone, which he had ever experienced to
be prevalent over his too easy master. He told the king, that nobody for
the future would believe any thing he said, When he retracted so soon
the promise so solemnly given; that he plainly discerned this change of
resolution to proceed from another breach of his word, in communicating
the matter to some rascal, who had furnished him with those pitiful
reasons which he had alleged, and he doubted not but he should hereafter
know who his counsellor had been; and that if he receded from what he
had promised, it would be such a dis-obligation to the prince, who had
now set his heart upon the journey, after his majesty's approbation,
that he could never forget it, nor forgive any man who had been the
cause of it[*]

* Clarendon vol. i. p. 16.

The king, with great earnestness, fortified by many oaths, made his
apology, by denying that he had communicated the matter to any; and
finding himself assailed, as well by the boisterous importunities of
Buckingham, as by the warm entreaties of his son, whose applications had
hitherto, on other occasions, been always dutiful, never earnest, he had
again the weakness to assent to their purposed journey. It was agreed
that Sir Francis Cottington alone, the prince's secretary, and Endymion
Porter, gentleman of his bed-chamber, should accompany them; and the
former being at that time in the antechamber, he was immediately called
in by the king's orders.

James told Cottington, that he had always been an honest man,
and therefore he was now to trust him in an affair of the highest
importance, which he was not, upon his life, to disclose to any man
whatever. "Cottington," added he, "here is baby Charles and Stenny,"
(these ridiculous appellations he usually gave to the prince and
Buckingham,) "who have a great mind to go post into Spain, and fetch
home the infanta: they will have but two more in their company, and have
chosen you for one. What think you of the journey?" Sir Francis, who was
a prudent man, and had resided some years in Spain as the king's agent,
was struck with all the obvious objections to such an enterprise, and
scrupled not to declare them. The king threw himself upon his bed, and
cried, "I told you this before;" and fell into a new passion and new
lamentations, complaining that he was undone, and should lose baby
Charles.

The prince showed by his countenance, that he was extremely dissatisfied
with Cottington's discourse; but Buckingham broke into an open passion
against him. The king, he told him, asked him only of the journey,
and of the manner of travelling; particulars of which he might be a
competent judge, having gone the road so often by post; but that he,
without being called to it, had the presumption to give his advice upon
matters of state, and against his master, which he should repent as long
as he lived. A thousand other reproaches he added, which put the poor
king into a new agony in behalf of a servant, who, he foresaw, would
suffer for answering him honestly. Upon which he said, with some
emotion, "Nay, by God, Stenny, you are much to blame for using him so:
he answered me directly to the question which I asked him, and very
honestly and wisely; and yet, you know, he said no more than I told you
before he was called in." However, after all this passion on both sides,
James renewed his consent; and proper directions were given for the
journey. Nor was he now at any loss to discover, that the whole intrigue
was originally contrived by Buckingham, as well as pursued violently by
his spirit and impetuosity.

These circumstances, which so well characterize the persons, seem to
have been related by Cottington to Lord Clarendon, from whom they are
here transcribed; and though minute, are not undeserving of a place in
history.

The prince and Buckingham, with their two attendants, and Sir Richard
Graham, master of horse to Buckingham, passed disguised and undiscovered
through France; and they even ventured into a court ball at Paris, where
Charles saw the princess Henrietta, whom he afterwards espoused, and who
was at that time in the bloom of youth and beauty. In eleven days after
their departure from London, they arrived at Madrid; and surprised
every body by a step so unusual among great princes. The Spanish monarch
immediately paid Charles a visit, expressed the utmost gratitude for
the confidence reposed in him, and made warm protestations of a
correspondent confidence and friendship. By the most studied civilities,
he showed the respect which he bore to his royal guest. He gave him
a golden key, which opened all his apartments, that the prince might;
without any introduction, have access to him at all hours: he took the
left hand of him on every occasion, except in the apartments assigned
to Charles; for there, he said, the prince was at home: Charles was
introduced into the palace with the same pomp and ceremony that attends
the kings of Spain on their coronation: the council received public
orders to obey him as the king himself.

Olivarez too, though a grandee of Spain, who has the right of being
covered before his own king, would not put on his hat in the prince's
presence:[*] all the prisons of Spain were thrown open, and all the
prisoners received their freedom, as if the event the most honorable and
most fortunate had happened to the monarchy:[**] and every sumptuary
law with regard to apparel was suspended during Charles's residence in
Spain. The infanta, however, was only shown to her lover in public; the
Spanish ideas of decency being so strict, as not to allow of any further
intercourse, till the arrival of the dispensation.[***]

The point of honor was carried so far by that generous people, that no
attempt was made, on account of the advantage which they had acquired,
of imposing any harder conditions of treaty: their pious zeal only
prompted them, on one occasion, to desire more concessions in the
religious articles; but, upon the opposition of Bristol, accompanied
with some reproaches, they immediately desisted. The pope, however,
hearing of the prince's arrival in Madrid, tacked some new clauses to
the dispensation;[****] and it became necessary to transmit the articles
to London, that the king might ratify them. This treaty, which was made
public, consisted of several articles, chiefly regarding the exercise
of the Catholic religion by the infanta and her household. Nothing could
reasonably be found fault with, except one article, in which the king
promised, that the children should be educated by the princess, till ten
years of age. This condition could not be insisted on, but with a view
of seasoning their minds with Catholic principles; and though so tender
an age seemed a sufficient security against theological prejudices, yet
the same reason which made the pope insert that article, should have
induced the king to reject it.

Besides the public treaty, there were separate articles, privately sworn
to by the king; in which he promised to suspend the penal laws enacted
against Catholics, to procure a repeal of them in parliament, and to
grant a toleration for the exercise of the Catholic religion in private
houses.[v]

* Franklyn, p. 73.

** Franklyn, p. 74.

*** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 77.

**** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 84.

v Franklyn, p. 80. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 89. Kennet, p.
769.

Great murmurs, we may believe, would have arisen against these articles,
had they been made known to the public; since we find it to have been
imputed as an enormous crime to the prince that, having received, about
this time, a very civil letter from the pope, he was induced to return a
very civil answer.[*]

Meanwhile Gregory XV., who granted the dispensation, died; and Urban
VIII. was chosen in his place. Upon this event, the nuncio refused to
deliver the dispensation, till it should be renewed by Urban; and that
crafty pontiff delayed sending a new dispensation, in hopes that, during
the prince's residence in Spain, some expedient might be fallen upon
to effect his conversion. The king of England, as well as the prince,
became impatient. On the first hint, Charles obtained permission to
return; and Philip graced his departure with all the circumstances of
elaborate civility and respect which had attended his reception. He even
erected a pillar on the spot where they took leave of each other, as
a monument of mutual friendship; and the prince, having sworn to the
observance of all the articles, entered on his journey, and embarked on
board the English fleet at St. Andero.

The character of Charles, composed of decency, reserve, modesty,
sobriety, virtues so agreeable to the manners of the Spaniards; the
unparalleled confidence which he had reposed in their nation; the
romantic gallantry which he had practised towards the princess; all
these circumstances, joined to his youth and advantageous figure, had
endeared him to the whole court of Madrid, and had impressed the most
favorable ideas of him.[**] But, in the same proportion that the
prince was beloved and esteemed, was Buckingham despised and hated.
His behavior, composed of English familiarity and French vivacity; his
sallies of passion, his indecent freedoms with the prince, his dissolute
pleasures, his arrogant, impetuous temper, which he neither could nor
cared to disguise; qualities like these could, most of them, be
esteemed nowhere, but to the Spaniards were the objects of peculiar
aversion.[***] They could not conceal their surprise, that such a
youth could intrude into a negotiation, now conducted to a period by so
accomplished a minister as Bristol, and could assume to himself all the
merit of it. They lamented the infanta's fate, who must be approached by
a man whose temerity seemed to respect no laws, divine or human.[****]

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 82. Franklyn, p. 77.

** Franklyn, p. 80. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 103.

*** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 101.

**** Clarendon, vol. i. p. 36.

And when they observed, that he had the imprudence to insult the Condé
duke of Olivarez, their prime minister, every one who was ambitious of
paying court to the Spanish became desirous of showing a contempt for
the English favorite.

The duke of Buckingham told Olivarez, that his own attachment to the
Spanish nation and to the king of Spain was extreme; that he would
contribute to every measure which could cement the friendship between
England and them; and that his peculiar ambition would be to facilitate
the prince's marriage with the infanta. But he added, with a sincerity
equally insolent and indiscreet, "With regard to you, sir, in
particular, you must not consider me as your friend, but must ever
expect from me all possible enmity and opposition." The Condé duke
replied, with a becoming dignity, that he very willingly accepted of
what was proffered him: and on these terms the favorites parted.[*]

Buckingham, sensible how odious he was become to the Spaniards, and
dreading the influence which that nation would naturally acquire after
the arrival of the infanta, resolved to employ all his credit in order
to prevent the marriage, By what arguments he could engage the prince
to offer such an insult to the Spanish nation, from whom he had met
with such generous treatment; by what colors he could disguise the
ingratitude and imprudence of such a measure; these are totally unknown
to us. We may only conjecture, that the many unavoidable causes of
delay which had so long prevented the arrival of the dispensation, had
afforded to Buckingham a pretence for throwing on the Spaniards the
imputation of insincerity in the whole treaty. It also appears, that
his impetuous and domineering character had acquired, what it ever
after maintained, a total ascendant over the gentle and modest temper
of Charles; and, when the prince left Madrid, he was firmly determined,
notwithstanding all his professions, to break off the treaty with Spain.

It is not likely that Buckingham prevailed so easily with James to
abandon a project which, during so many years, had been the object of
all his wishes, and which he had now unexpectedly conducted to a happy
period.[**]

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 103. Clarendon, vol. i. p. 37.

** Hacket's Life of Williams.

A rupture with Spain, the loss of two millions, were prospects little
agreeable to this pacific and indigent monarch. But, finding his only
son bent against a match which had always been opposed by his people and
his parliament, he yielded to difficulties which he had not courage
or strength of mind sufficient to overcome. The prince, therefore, and
Buckingham, on their arrival at London, assumed entirely the direction
of the negotiation; and it was their business to seek for pretences by
which they could give a color to their intended breach of treaty.

Though the restitution of the Palatinate had ever been considered by
James as a natural or necessary consequence of the Spanish alliance,
he had always forbidden his ministers to insist on it as a preliminary
article to the conclusion of the marriage treaty. He considered, that
this principality was now in the hands of the emperor and the duke of
Bavaria and that it was no longer in the king of Spain's power, by
a single stroke of his pen, to restore it to its ancient master. The
strict alliance of Spain with these princes would engage Philip, he
thought, to soften so disagreeable a demand by every art of negotiation;
and many articles must of necessity be adjusted, before such an
important point could be effected. It was sufficient, in James's
opinion, if the sincerity of the Spanish court could, for the present,
be ascertained; and, dreading further delays of the marriage, so long
wished for, he was resolved to trust the palatine's full restoration to
the event of future counsels and deliberations.[*]

This whole system of negotiation Buckingham now reversed; and he
overturned every supposition upon which the treaty had hitherto been
conducted. After many fruitless artifices were employed to delay or
prevent the espousals, Bristol received positive orders not to deliver
the proxy, which had been left in his hands, or to finish the marriage,
till security were given for the full restitution of the Palatinate.[**]

* Parl. Hist. vol. vi. p. 57.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 105. Rennet, p. 776.

Philip understood this language. He had been acquainted with the disgust
received by Buckingham; and deeming him a man capable of sacrificing to
his own ungovernable passions the greatest interests of his master and
of his country, his had expected, that the unbounded credit of that
favorite would be employed to embroil the two nations. Determined,
however to throw the blame of the rupture entirely on the English,
he delivered into Bristol's hand a written promise, by which he
bound himself to procure the restoration of the Palatinate either by
persuasion, or by every other possible means; and when he found that
this concession gave no satisfaction, he ordered the infanta to lay
aside the title of princess of Wales which she bore after the arrival
of the dispensation from Rome, and to drop the study of the English
language.[*] Any thinking that such rash counsels as now governed the
court of England, would not stop at the breach of the marriage treaty,
he ordered preparations for war immediately to be made throughout all
his dominions.[**]

Thus James, having, by means inexplicable from the ordinary rules of
politics, conducted, so near an honorable period, the marriage of
his son and the restoration of his son-in-law, failed at last of his
purpose, by means equally unaccountable.

But though the expedients already used by Buckingham were sufficiently
inglorious, both for himself and for the nation, it was necessary for
him, ere he could fully effect his purpose, to employ artifices still
more dishonorable.

{1624.} The king, having broken with Spain, was obliged to concert new
measures; and, without the assistance of parliament, no effectual step
of any kind could be taken. The benevolence which, during the interval,
had been rigorously exacted for recovering the Palatinate, though levied
for no popular an end, had procured to the king less money than ill will
from his subjects.[***] Whatever discouragements, therefore, he might
receive from his ill agreement with former parliaments, there was a
necessity of summoning once more this assembly: and it might be hoped,
that the Spanish alliance which gave such umbrage, being abandoned, the
commons would now be better satisfied with the king's administration.
In his speech to the houses, James dropped some hints of his cause
of complaint against Spain; and he graciously condescended to ask the
advice of parliament, which he had ever before rejected, with regard to
the conduct of so important so affair as his son's marriage.[****]

* Franklyn, p. 80. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 112.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 114.

*** To show by what violent measures benevolences were
usually raised, Johnstone tells us, in his Rerum
Britanniearum Historia, that Barnes, a citizen of London,
was the first who refused to contribute any thing upon which
the treasurer sent him word, that he must immediately
prepare himself to carry by post a despatch into Ireland,
The citizen was glad to make his peace by paying a hundred
pounds. And no one durst afterwards refuse the benevolence
required. See further, Coke, p. 80.

**** Franklyn, p. 79. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 115. Kennet, p.
778.

Buckingham delivered to a committee of lords and commons a long
narrative, which he pretended to be true and complete, of every step
taken in the negotiations with Philip: but, partly by the suppression of
some facts, partly by the false coloring laid on others, this narrative
was calculated entirely to mislead the parliament, and to throw on the
court of Spain the reproach of artifice and insincerity. He said, that,
after many years' negotiation, the king found not himself any nearer his
purpose; and that Bristol had never brought the treaty beyond general
professions and declarations; that the prince, doubting the good
intentions of Spain, resolved at last to take a journey to Madrid, and
put the matter to the utmost trial; that he there found such artificial
dealing as made him conclude all the steps taken towards the marriage
to be false and deceitful: that the restitution of the Palatinate, which
had ever been regarded by the king as an essential preliminary, was not
seriously intended by Spain; and that, after enduring much bad usage,
the prince was obliged to return to England, without any hopes, either
of obtaining the infanta, or of restoring the elector palatine.[*]

This narrative, which, considering the importance of the occasion, and
the solemnity of that assembly to which it was delivered, deserves
great blame, was yet vouched for truth by the prince of Wales, who was
present; and the king himself lent it, indirectly, his authority, by
telling the parliament, that it was by his orders Buckingham laid the
whole affair before them. The conduct of these princes it is difficult
fully to excuse. It is in vain to plead the youth and inexperience of
Charles; unless his inexperience and youth, as is probable,[**] [57] if
not certain, really led him into error, and made him swallow all the
falsities of Buckingham. And though the king was here hurried from his
own measures by the impetuosity of others, nothing should have induced
him to prostitute his character, and seem to vouch the impostures, at
least false colorings, of his favorite, of which he had so good reason
to entertain a suspicion.[***]

* Franklyn, p.89, 90, 91, etc. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 119,
120, etc. Parl. Hist. vol. vi. p. 20, 21, etc.

** See note EEE, at the end of the volume.

*** It must, however, be confessed, that the king afterwards
warned the house not to take Buckingham's narrative for his,
though it was said before them by his order. Parl. Hist.
vol. vi. p. 104. James was probably ashamed to have been
carried so far by his favorite.

Buckingham's narrative, however artfully disguised, contained so many
contradictory circumstances, as were sufficient to open the eyes of
all reasonable men; but it concurred so well with the passions and
prejudices of the parliament, that no scruple was made of immediately
adopting it.[*] Charmed with having obtained at length the opportunity,
so long wished for, of going to war with Papists, they little thought of
future consequences; but immediately advised the king to break off both
treaties with Spain, as well that which regarded the marriage, as that
for the restitution of the Palatinate.[**] The people, ever greedy of
war till they suffer by it, displayed their triumph at these violent
measures by public bonfires and rejoicings, and by insults on the
Spanish ministers. Buckingham was now the favorite of the public and of
the parliament. Sir Edward Coke, in the house of commons, called him the
savior of the nation.[***] Every place resounded with his praises. And
he himself, intoxicated by a popularity which he enjoyed so little time,
and which he so ill deserved, violated all duty to his indulgent master,
and entered into cabals with the Puritanical members, who had ever
opposed the royal authority. He even encouraged schemes for abolishing
the order of bishops, and selling the dean and chapter lands, in order
to defray the expenses of a Spanish war. And the king, though he still
entertained projects for temporizing, and for forming an accommodation
with Spain, was so borne down by the torrent of popular prejudices,
conducted and increased by Buckingham, that he was at last obliged, in
a speech to parliament, to declare in favor of hostile measures, if they
would engage to support him.[****] Doubts of their sincerity in this
respect, doubts which the event showed not to be ill grounded, had
probably been one cause of his former pacific and dilatory measures.

* Parl. Hist. vol. vi. p. 75.

** Franklyn, p. 98. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 128. Parl. Hist.
vol. vi. p. 103.

*** Clarendon, vol. i. p. 6.

**** Franklyn, p. 94, 95. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 129, 130.

In his speech on this occasion, the king began with lamenting his own
unhappiness, that, having so long valued himself on the epithet of the
pacific monarch, he should now, in his old age, be obliged to exchange
the blessings of peace for the inevitable calamities of war. He
represented to them the immense and continued expense requisite for
military armaments; and, besides supplies from time to time, as they
should become necessary, he demanded a vote of six subsidies and twelve
fifteenths, as a proper stock before the commencement of hostilities.
He told them of his intolerable debts, chiefly contracted by the sums
remitted to the palatine;[*] [58] but he added, that he did not insist
on any supply for his own relief, and that it was sufficient for him if
the honor and security of the public were provided for. To remove all
suspicion, he, who had ever strenuously maintained his prerogative, and
who had even extended it into some points esteemed doubtful, now made an
imprudent concession, of which the consequences might have proved fatal
to royal authority; he voluntarily offered, that the money voted should
be paid to a committee of parliament, and should be issued by them,
without being intrusted to his management.[**] The commons willingly
accepted of this concession, so unusual in an English monarch: they
voted him only three subsidies and three fifteenths:[***] and they
took no notice of the complaints which he made of his own wants and
necessities.

Advantage was also taken of the present good agreement between the king
and parliament, in order to pass the bill against monopolies, which
had formerly been encouraged by the king, but which had failed by
the rupture between him and the last house of commons. This bill was
conceived in such terms as to render it merely declaratory; and all
monopolies were condemned, as contrary to law and to the known liberties
of the people. It was there supposed, that every subject of England had
entire power to dispose of his own actions, provided he did no injury
to any of his fellow subjects; and that no prerogative of the king, no
power of any magistrate, nothing but the authority alone of laws, could
restrain that unlimited freedom. The full prosecution of this noble
principle into all its natural consequences, has at last, through many
contests, produced that singular and happy government which we enjoy at
present.[****] [59]

* See note FFF, at the end of the volume.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 137.

*** Less than three hundred thousand pounds.

**** See note GGG, at the end of the volume.

The house of commons also corroborated, by a new precedent, the
important power of impeachment, which, two years before, they had
exercised in the case of Chancellor Bacon, and which had lain dormant
for near two centuries, except when they served as instruments of
royal vengeance. The earl of Middlesex had been raised, by Buckingham's
interest, from the rank of a London merchant, to be treasurer of
England; and, by his activity and address, seemed not unworthy of
that preferment. But, as he incurred the displeasure of his patron,
by scrupling or refusing some demands of money during the prince's
residence in Spain, that favorite vowed revenge, and employed all his
credit among the commons to procure an impeachment of the treasurer. The
king was extremely dissatisfied with this measure, and prophesied to
the prince and duke, that they would live to have their fill of
parliamentary prosecutions.[*] In a speech to the parliament, he
endeavored to apologize for Middlesex, and to soften the accusation
against him.[**] The charge, however, was still maintained by the
commons; and the treasurer was found guilty by the peers, though the
misdemeanors proved against him were neither numerous nor important. The
accepting of two presents of five hundred pounds apiece, for passing
two patents, was the article of greatest weight. His sentence was, to
be fined fifty thousand pounds for the king's-use, and to suffer all the
other penalties formerly inflicted upon Bacon. The fine was afterwards
remitted by the prince, when he mounted the throne.

This session, an address was also made, very disagreeable to the king,
craving the severe execution of the laws against Catholics. His
answer was gracious and condescending;[***] though he declared against
persecution, as being an improper measure for the suppression of any
religion, according to the received maxim, "That the blood of the
martyrs was the seed of the church." He also condemned an entire
indulgence of the Catholics; and seemed to represent a middle course as
the most humane and most politic. He went so far as even to affirm
with an oath, that he never had entertained any thoughts of granting a
toleration to these religionists.[****] The liberty of exercising
their worship in private houses, which he had secretly agreed to in the
Spanish treaty, did not appear to him deserving that name; and it was
probably by means of this explication, he thought that he had saved his
honor. And as Buckingham, in his narrative,[v] confessed that the king
had agreed to a temporary suspension of the penal laws against the
Catholics, which he distinguished from a toleration, (a term at that
time extremely odious,) James naturally deemed his meaning to be
sufficiently explained, and feared not any reproach of falsehood or
duplicity, on account of this asseveration.

* Clarendon, vol. i. p. 23.

** Parl. Hist. vol. vi. p. 19.

*** Franklyn, p. 101, 102.

**** See, further, Franklyn, p. 87.

v Parl. Hist. vol. vi. p. 37.

After all these transactions, the parliament was prorogued by the king,
who let fall some hints, though in gentle terms, of the sense which he
entertained of their unkindness in not supplying his necessities.[*]

* Franklyn, p. 103.

James, unable to resist so strong a combination as that of his people,
his parliament, his son, and his favorite, had been compelled to
embrace measures for which, from temper as well as judgment, he had
ever entertained a most settled aversion. Though he dissembled his
resentment, he began to estrange himself from Buckingham, to whom he
ascribed all those violent counsels, and whom he considered as the
author, both of the prince's journey to Spain, and of the breach of the
marriage treaty. The arrival of Bristol he impatiently longed for; and
it was by the assistance of that minister, whose wisdom he respected,
and whose views he approved, that he hoped in time to extricate himself
from his present difficulties.

During the prince's abode in Spain, that able negotiator had ever
opposed, though unsuccessfully, to the impetuous measures suggested by
Buckingham, his own wise and well-tempered counsels. After Charles's
departure, he still, upon the first appearance of a change of
resolution, interposed his advice, and strenuously insisted on the
sincerity of the Spaniards in the conduct of the treaty, as well as the
advantages which England must reap from the completion of it. Enraged
to find that his successful labors should be rendered abortive by the
levities and caprices of an insolent minion, he would understand no
hints; and nothing but express orders from his master could engage him
to make that demand which, he was sensible, must put a final period to
the treaty. He was not, therefore, surprised to hear that Buckingham had
declared himself his open enemy, and, on all occasions, had thrown out
many violent reflections against him.

Nothing could be of greater consequence to Buckingham than to keep
Bristol at a distance both from the king and the parliament; lest the
power of truth, enforced by so well-informed a speaker, should open
scenes which were but suspected by the former, and of which the latter
had as yet entertained no manner of jealousy. He applied therefore to
James, whose weakness, disguised to himself under the appearance of
finesse and dissimulation, was now become absolutely incurable. A
warrant for sending Bristol to the Tower was issued immediately upon his
arrival in England;[*] and though he was soon released from confinement,
yet orders were carried him from the king, to retire to his country
seat, and to abstain from all attendance in parliament He obeyed; but
loudly demanded an opportunity of justifying himself, and of laying
his whole conduct before his master. On all occasions, he protested
his innocence, and threw on his enemy the blame of every miscarriage.
Buckingham, and, at his instigation, the prince, declared that they
would be reconciled to Bristol, if he would but acknowledge his errors
and ill conduct: but the spirited nobleman, jealous of his honor,
refused to buy favor at so high a price. James had the equity to say,
that the insisting on that condition was a strain of unexampled tyranny:
but Buckingham scrupled not to assert, with his usual presumption, that
neither the king, the prince, nor himself, were as yet satisfied of
Bristol's innocence.[**]

While the attachment of the prince to Buckingham, while the timidity
of James or the shame of changing his favorite, kept the whole court
in awe, the Spanish ambassador, Inoiosa, endeavored to open the king's
eyes, and to cure his fears by instilling greater fears into him. He
privately slipped into his hand a paper, and gave him a signal to read
it alone. He there told him, that he was as much a prisoner at London
as ever Francis I. was at Madrid; that the prince and Buckingham had
conspired together, and had the whole court at their devotion; that
cabals among the popular leaders in parliament were carrying on, to the
extreme prejudice of his authority; that the project was to confine him
to some of his hunting seats, and to commit the whole administration to
Charles; and that it was necessary for him, by one vigorous effort, to
vindicate his authority, and to punish those who had so long and so much
abused his friendship and beneficence.[***]

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 145.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 259.

*** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 144. Hacket's Life of Williams.
Coke p. 107.

What credit James gave to this representation does not appear. He
only discovered some faint symptoms, which he instantly retracted, of
dissatisfaction with Buckingham. All his public measures, and all the
alliances into which he entered, were founded on the system of enmity to
the Austrian family, and of war to be carried on for the recovery of the
Palatinate.

The states of the United Provinces were at this time governed by
Maurice; and that aspiring prince, sensible that his credit would
languish during peace, had, on the expiration of the twelve years'
truce, renewed the war with the Spanish monarchy. His great capacity in
the military art would have compensated the inferiority of his forces,
had not the Spanish armies been commanded by Spinola, a general equally
renowned for conduct, and more celebrated for enterprise and activity.
In such a situation, nothing could, be more welcome to the republic than
the prospect of a rupture between James and the Catholic king; and
they flattered themselves, as well from the natural union of interests
between them and England, as from the influence of the present
conjuncture, that powerful succors would soon march to their relief.
Accordingly an army of six thousand men was levied in England, and
sent over to Holland, commanded by four young noblemen, Essex, Oxford,
Southampton, and Willoughby, who were ambitious of distinguishing
themselves in so popular a cause, and of acquiring military experience
under so renowned a captain as Maurice.

It might reasonably have been expected, that, as religious zeal had made
the recovery of the Palatinate appear a point of such vast importance in
England, the same effect must have been produced in France, by the force
merely of political views and considerations. While that principality
remained in the hands of the house of Austria, the French dominions were
surrounded on all sides by the possessions of that ambitious family, and
might be invaded by superior forces from every quarter. It concerned the
king of France, therefore, to prevent the peaceable establishment of
the emperor in his new conquests; and both by the situation and greater
power of his state, he was much better enabled than James to give succor
to the distressed palatine.[*]

* See Collection of State Papers by the earl of Clarendon,
p. 302.

But though these views escaped not Louis,
nor Cardinal Richelieu, who now began to acquire an ascendant in the
French court, that minister was determined to pave the way for his
enterprises by first subduing the Hugonots, and thence to proceed, by
mature counsels, to humble the house of Austria. The prospect, however,
of a conjunction with England was presently embraced, and all imaginable
encouragement was given to every proposal for conciliating a marriage
between Charles and the princess Henrietta.

Notwithstanding the sensible experience which James might have acquired
of the unsurmountable antipathy entertained by his subjects against an
alliance with Catholics, he still persevered in the opinion, that his
son would be degraded by receiving into his bed a princess of less than
royal extraction. After the rupture, therefore, with Spain, nothing
remained but an alliance with France; and to that court he immediately
applied himself.[*] The same allurements had not here place, which had
so long entangled him in the Spanish negotiation: the portion promised
was much inferior; and the peaceable restoration of the palatine could
not thence be expected. But James was afraid lest his son should be
altogether disappointed of a bride; and therefore, as soon as the French
king demanded, for the honor of his crown, the same terms which had
been granted to the Spanish, he was prevailed with to comply. And as the
prince, during his abode in Spain, had given a verbal promise to allow
the infanta the education of her children till the age of thirteen,
this article was here inserted in the treaty; and to that imprudence is
generally imputed the present distressed condition of his posterity. The
court of England, however, it must be confessed, always pretended, even
in their memorials to the French court that all the favorable conditions
granted to the Catholics, were inserted in the marriage treaty merely
to please the pope, and that their strict execution was, by an agreement
with France, secretly dispensed with.[**] [60]

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 152.

** See note HHH, at the end of the volume.

As much as the conclusion of the marriage treaty was acceptable to the
king, as much were all the military enterprises disagreeable, both from
the extreme difficulty of the undertaking in which he was engaged, and
from his own incapacity for such a scene of action.

During the Spanish negotiation, Heidelberg and Manheim had been taken by
the imperial forces; and Frankendale, though the garrison was entirely
English, was closely besieged by them. After reiterated remonstrances
from James, Spain interposed, and procured a suspension of arms during
eighteen months. But as Frankendale was the only place of Frederic's
ancient dominions which was still in his hands, Ferdinand, desirous of
withdrawing his forces from the Palatinate, and of leaving that state in
security was unwilling that so important a fortress should remain in the
possession of the enemy. To compromise all differences, it was agreed to
sequestrate it into the hands of the infanta as a neutral person;
upon condition that, after the expiration of the truce, it should
be delivered to Frederic; though peace should not, at that time, be
concluded between him and Ferdinand.[*] After the unexpected rupture
with Spain, the infanta, when James demanded the execution of the
treaty, offered him peaceable possession of Frankendale, and
even promised a safe-conduct for the garrison through the Spanish
Netherlands: but there was some territory of the empire interposed
between her state and the Palatinate; and for passage over that
territory, no terms were stipulated.[**] By this chicane, which
certainly had not been employed if amity with Spain had been preserved,
the palatine was totally dispossessed of his patrimonial dominions.

* Rushworth, vol. i. p. 74.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 151.

The English nation, however, and James's warlike council, were not
discouraged. It was still determined to reconquer the Palatinate; a
state lying in the midst of Germany, possessed entirely by the emperor
and duke of Bavaria, surrounded by potent enemies, and cut off from all
communication with England. Count Mansfeldt was taken into pay; and an
English army of twelve thousand foot and two hundred horse was levied
by a general press throughout the kingdom. During the negotiation with
France, vast promises had been made, though in general terms, by the
French ministry; not only that a free passage should be granted to the
English troops, but that powerful succors should also join them in their
march towards the Palatinate. In England, all these professions were
hastily interpreted to be positive engagements. The troops under
Mansfeldt's command were embarked at Dover; but, upon sailing over to
Calais, found no orders yet arrived for their admission. After waiting
in vain during some time, they were obliged to sail towards Zealand,
where it had also been neglected to concert proper measures for their
disembarkation; and some scruples arose among the states on account of
the scarcity of provisions. Meanwhile a pestilential distemper crept in
among the English forces, so long cooped up in narrow vessels. Half
the army died while on board; and the other half, weakened by sickness,
appeared too small a body to march into the Palatinate.[*]

{1625.} And thus ended this ill-concerted and fruitless expedition;
the only disaster which happened to England during the prosperous and
pacific reign of James.

That reign was now drawing towards a conclusion. With peace, so
successfully cultivated, and so passionately loved by this monarch, his
life also terminated. This spring, he was seized with a tertian ague;
and, when encouraged by his courtiers with the common proverb, that such
a distemper, during that season, was health for a king, he replied, that
the proverb was meant of a young king. After some fits, he found himself
extremely weakened, and sent for the prince, whom he exhorted to bear a
tender affection for his wife, but to preserve a constancy in religion;
to protect the church of England; and to extend his care towards
the unhappy family of the palatine.[**] With decency and courage, he
prepared himself for his end; and he expired on the twenty-seventh of
March, after a reign over England of twenty-two years and some days, and
in the fifty-ninth year of his age. His reign over Scotland was almost
of equal duration with his life. In all history, it would be difficult
to find a reign less illustrious, yet more unspotted and unblemished,
than that of James in both kingdoms.

* Franklyn, p. 104. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 154. Dugdale, p.
24.

** Rushworth, vol. i. p. 155.

No prince, so little enterprising and so inoffensive, was ever so much
exposed to the opposite extremes of calumny and flattery, of satire
and panegyric. And the factions which began in his time, being still
continued, have made his character be as much disputed to this day, as
is commonly that of princes who are our contemporaries. Many virtues,
however, it must be owned, he was possessed of, but scarce any of
them pure, or free from the contagion of the neighboring vices. His
generosity bordered on profusion, his learning on pedantry, his pacific
disposition on pusillanimity, his wisdom on cunning, his friendship
on light fancy and boyish fondness. While he imagined that he was only
maintaining his own authority, he may, perhaps, be suspected, in a few
of his actions, and still more of his pretensions, to have somewhat
encroached on the liberties of his people: while he endeavored, by an
exact neutrality, to acquire the good will of all his neighbors, he was
able to preserve fully the esteem and regard of none. His capacity was
considerable; but fitter to discourse on general maxims, than to conduct
any intricate business: his intentions were just; but more adapted to
the conduct of private life than to the government of kingdoms. Awkward
in his person, and ungainly in his manners, he was ill qualified to
command respect; partial and undiscerning in his affections, he was
little fitted to acquire general love. Of a feeble temper, more than of
a frail judgment; exposed to our ridicule from his vanity; but exempt
from our hatred by his freedom from pride and arrogance. And, upon the
whole, it may be pronounced of his character, that all his qualities
were sullied with weakness and embellished by humanity. Of political
courage he certainly was destitute; and thence, chiefly, is derived
the strong prejudice which prevails against his personal bravery; an
inference, however, which must be owned, from general experience, to be
extremely fallacious.

He was only once married, to Anne of Denmark, who died on the third of
March, 1619, in the forty-fifth year of her age; a woman eminent neither
for her vices nor her virtues. She loved shows and expensive amusements,
but possessed little taste in her pleasures. A great comet appeared
about the time of her death; and the vulgar esteemed it the prognostic
of that event: so considerable in their eyes are even the most
insignificant princes.

He left only one son, Charles, then in the twenty-fifth year of his age;
and one daughter, Elizabeth, married to the elector palatine. She was
aged twenty-nine years. Those alone remained of six legitimate children
born to him. He never had any illegitimate; and he never discovered any
tendency, even the smallest, towards a passion for any mistress.

The archbishops of Canterbury during this reign were Whitgift, who
died in 1604; Bancroft, in 1610; Abbot, who survived the king. The
chancellors, Lord Ellesmore, who resigned in 1617; Bacon was first lord
keeper till 1619; then was created chancellor, and was displaced in
1621: Williams, bishop of Lincoln, was created lord keeper in his place.
The high treasurers were the earl of Dorset, who died in 1609, the earl
of Salisbury, in 1612; the earl of Suffolk, fined and displaced
for bribery in 1618. Lord Mandeville resigned in 1621, the earl of
Middlesex, displaced in 1624; the earl of Marlborough succeeded. The
lord admirals were, the earl of Nottingham, who resigned in 1618; the
earl, afterwards duke of Buckingham. The secretaries of state were, the
earl of Salisbury, Sir Ralph Winwood, Nanton, Calvert, Lord Conway, Sir
Albertus Moreton.

The numbers of the house of lords, in the first parliament of this
reign, were seventy-eight temporal peers. The numbers in the first
parliament of Charles were ninety-seven. Consequently James, during that
period, created nineteen new peerages above those that expired.

The house of commons, in the first parliament of this reign, consisted
of four hundred and sixty-seven members. It appears that four boroughs
revived their charters, which they had formerly neglected. And as the
first parliament of Charles consisted of four hundred and ninety-four
members, we may infer that James created ten new boroughs.

APPENDIX TO THE REIGN OF JAMES I.[*]

* This history of the house of Stuart was written and
published by the author before the history of the house of
Tudor. Hence it happens that some passages, particularly in
the present Appendix, may seem to be repetitions of what was
formerly delivered in the reign of Elizabeth. The author, in
order to obviate this objection, has cancelled some few
passages in the foregoing chapters.

It may not be improper, at this period, to make a pause, and to take a
survey of the state of the kingdom with regard to government, manners,
finances, arms, trade, learning. Where a just notion is not formed of
these particulars, history can be little instructive, and often will not
be intelligible.

We may safely pronounce that the English government, at the accession
of the Scottish line, was much more arbitrary than it is at present; the
prerogative less limited, the liberties of the subject less accurately
defined and secured. Without mentioning other particulars, the courts
alone of high commission and star chamber were sufficient to lay the
whole kingdom at the mercy of the prince.

The court of high commission had been erected by Elizabeth, in
consequence of an act of parliament passed in the beginning of her
reign: by this act it was thought proper during the great revolution of
religion, to arm the sovereign with full powers, in order to discourage
and suppress opposition. All appeals from the inferior ecclesiastical
courts were carried before the high commission; and, of consequence, the
whole life and doctrine of the clergy lay directly under its inspection.
Every breach of the act of uniformity, every refusal of the ceremonies,
was cognizable in this court; and, during the reign of Elizabeth, had
been punished by deprivation, by fine, confiscation, and imprisonment.
James contented himself with the gentler penalty of deprivation; nor
was that punishment inflicted with rigor on every offender. Archbishop
Spotswood tells us, that fee was informed by Bancroft, the primate,
several years after the king's accession, that not above forty-five
clergymen had then been deprived. All the Catholics, too, were liable to
be punished by this court, if they exercised any act of their religion,
or sent abroad their children or other relations to receive that
education which they could not procure them in their own country. Popish
priests were thrown into prison, and might be delivered over to the law,
which punished them with death; though that severity had been sparingly
exercised by Elizabeth, and never almost by James. In a word, that
liberty of conscience, which we so highly and so justly value at
present, was totally suppressed; and no exercise of any religion but the
established, was permitted throughout the kingdom. Any word or writing
which tended towards heresy or schism, was punishable by the high
commissioners, or any three of them: they alone were judges what
expressions had that tendency: they proceeded not by information,
but upon rumor, suspicion, or according to their discretion: they
administered an oath, by which the party cited before them was bound to
answer any question which should be propounded to him: whoever refused
this oath, though he pleaded ever so justly, that he might thereby
be brought to accuse himself or his dearest friend, was punishable by
Imprisonment: and in short, an inquisitorial tribunal, with all its
terrors and iniquities, was erected in the kingdom. Full discretionary
powers were bestowed with regard to the inquiry, trial, sentence,
and penalty inflicted; excepting only that corporal punishments were
restrained by that patent of the prince which erected the court, not by
the act of parliament which empowered him. By reason of the uncertain
limits which separate ecclesiastical from civil causes, all accusations
of adultery and incest were tried by the court of high commission; and
every complaint of wives against their husbands was there examined and
discussed.[*]

* Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 200.

On like pretences, every cause which regarded conscience, that is, every
cause, could have been brought under their jurisdiction. But there was
a sufficient reason why the king would not be solicitous to stretch
the jurisdiction of this court: the star chamber possessed the same
authority in civil matters; and its methods of proceeding were equally
arbitrary and unlimited, The origin of this court was derived from the
most remote antiquity[*] though it is pretended, that its power had
first been carried to the greatest height by Henry VII. In all times,
however, it is confessed, it enjoyed authority; and at no time was its
authority circumscribed, or method of proceeding directed by any law or
statute.

We have had already, or shall have sufficient occasion, dur-* ing the
course of this history, to mention the dispensing power, the power of
imprisonment, of exacting loans[**] and benevolences, of pressing and
quartering soldiers, of altering the customs, of erecting monopolies.
These branches of power, if not directly opposite to the principles
of all free government, must, at least, be acknowledged dangerous to
freedom in a monarchical constitution, where an eternal jealousy must be
preserved against the sovereign, and no discretionary powers must ever
be intrusted to him, by which the property or personal liberty of any
subject can be affected. The kings of England, however, had almost
constantly exercised these powers; and if, on any occasion, the prince
had been obliged to submit to laws enacted against them, he had ever,
in practice, eluded these laws, and returned to the same arbitrary
administration. During almost three centuries before the accession of
James, the regal authority, in all these particulars, had never once
been called in question.

* Bushworth, vol. ii. p. 473. In Chambers's case, it was the
unanimous opinion of the court of king's bench, that the
court of star Chamber was not derived from the statute of
Henry VII., but was a court many years before, and one of
the most high and honorable courts of justice. See Coke's
Rep. term. Mich. 5 Car. I. See, further, Camden's Brit. vol.
i. Intro, p. 254, edit. of Gibson.

** During several centuries, no reign had passed without
some forced loans from the subject.

We may also observe, that the principles in general which prevailed
during that age, were so favorable to monarchy, that they bestowed on it
an authority almost absolute and unlimited, sacred and indefeasible.

The meetings of parliament were so precarious, their sessions so short,
compared to the vacations, that, when men's eyes were turned upwards in
search of sovereign power, the prince alone was apt to strike them
as the only permanent magistrate, invested with the whole majesty and
authority of the state. The great complaisance too of parliaments,
during so long a period, had extremely degraded and obscured those
assemblies; and as all instances of opposition to prerogative must have
been drawn from a remote age, they were unknown to a great many, and had
the less authority even with those who were acquainted with them. These
examples, besides, of liberty had commonly, in ancient times, been
accompanied with such circumstances of violence, convulsion, civil
war, and disorder, that they presented but a disagreeable idea to the
inquisitive part of the people, and afforded small inducement to renew
such dismal scenes. By a great many, therefore, monarchy, simple and
unmixed, was conceived to be the government of England; and those
popular assemblies were supposed to form only the ornament of the
fabric, without being in any degree essential to its being and
existence.[*] [61] The prerogative of the crown was represented by
lawyers as something real and durable; like those eternal essences
of the schools, which no time or force could alter. The sanction of
religion was by divines called in aid; and the Monarch of heaven was
supposed to be interested in supporting the authority of his earthly
vicegerent. And though it is pretended that these doctrines were more
openly inculcated and more strenuously insisted on during the reign of
the Stuarts, they were not then invented; and were only found by the
court to be more necessary at that period, by reason of the opposite
doctrines, which began to be promulgated by the Puritanical party.[**]
[62]

* See note III, at the end of the volume.

** See note KKK, at the end of the volume.

In consequence of these exalted ideas of kingly authority, the
prerogative, besides the articles of jurisdiction founded on precedent,
was by many supposed to possess an inexhaustible fund of latent powers,
which might be exerted on any emergence. In every government, necessity,
when real, supersedes all laws, and levels all limitations; but in the
English government, convenience alone was conceived to authorize any
extraordinary act of regal power, and to render it obligatory on the
people. Hence the strict obedience required to proclamations during
all periods of the English history; and if James has incurred blame on
account of his edicts, it is only because he too frequently issued them
at a time when they began to be less regarded, not because he first
assumed or extended to an unusual degree that exercise of authority.
Of his maxims in a parallel case, the following is a pretty remark able
instance.

Queen Elizabeth had appointed commissioners for the inspection of
prisons, and had bestowed on them full discretionary powers to adjust
all differences between prisoners and their creditors, to compound
debts, and to give liberty to such debtors as they found honest and
insolvent. From the uncertain and undefined nature of the English
constitution, doubts sprang up in many, that this commission was
contrary to law; and it was represented in that light to James. He
forbore, therefore, renewing the commission, till the fifteenth of his
reign; when complaints rose so high with regard to the abuses practised
in prisons, that he thought himself obliged to overcome his scruples,
and to appoint new commissioners, invested with the same discretionary
powers which Elizabeth had formerly conferred.[*]

* Rymer, tom. xviii. p. 117, 594.

Upon the whole, we must conceive that monarchy, on the accession of
the house of Stuart, was possessed of a very extensive authority: an
authority, in the judgment of all, not exactly limited; in the judgment
of some, not limitable. But, at the same time, this authority was
founded merely on the opinion of the people, influenced by ancient
precedent and example. It was not supported either by money or by force
of arms. And, for this reason, we need not wonder that the princes
of that line were so extremely jealous of their prerogative; being
sensible, that when these claims were ravished from them, they possessed
no influence by which they could maintain their dignity, or support the
laws. By the changes which have since been introduced, the liberty and
independence of individuals has been rendered much more full, entire and
secure; that of the public more uncertain and precarious. And it seems a
necessary, though perhaps a melancholy truth, that in every government,
the magistrate must either possess a large revenue and a military force,
or enjoy some discretionary powers, in order to execute the laws and
support his own authority.

We have had occasion to remark, in so many instances, the bigotry which
prevailed in that age, that we can look for no toleration among the
different sects. Two Arians, under the title of heretics, were punished
by fire during this period; and no other reign, since the reformation,
had been free from the like barbarities. Stowe says, that these Arians
were offered their pardon at the stake, if they would merit it by a
recantation. A madman, who called himself the Holy Ghost, was without
any indulgence for his frenzy, condemned to the same punishment. Twenty
pounds a month could, by law, be levied on every one who frequented not
the established worship. This rigorous law, however, had one indulgent
clause, that the lines exacted should not exceed two thirds of the
yearly income of the person. It had been usual for Elizabeth to allow
those penalties to run on for several years; and to levy them all
at once, to the utter ruin of such Catholics as had incurred her
displeasure. James was more humane in this, as in every other respect.
The Puritans formed a sect which secretly lurked in the church, but
pretended not to any separate worship or discipline. An attempt of
that kind would have been universally regarded as the most unpardonable
enormity. And had the king been disposed to grant the Puritans a full
toleration for a separate exercise of their religion, it is certain,
from the spirit of the times, that this sect itself would have despised
and hated him for it, and would have reproached him with luke-warmness
and indifference in the cause of religion. They maintained, that
they themselves were the only pure church; that their principles and
practices ought to be established by law; and that no others ought to be
tolerated. It may be questioned, therefore, whether the administration
at this time could with propriety deserve the appellation of persecutors
with regard to the Puritans. Such of the clergy, indeed, as refused to
comply with the legal ceremonies, were deprived of their livings, and
sometimes, in Elizabeth's reign, were otherwise punished: and ought any
man to accept of an office or benefice in an establishment, while
he declines compliance with the fixed and known rules of that
establishment? But Puritans were never punished for frequenting separate
congregations; because there were none such in the kingdom; and no
Protestant ever assumed or pretended to the right of erecting them. The
greatest well-wishers of the Puritanical sect would have condemned
a practice, which in that age was universally, by statesmen and
ecclesiastics-philosophers and zealots, regarded as subversive of civil
society. Even so great a reasoner as Lord Bacon thought that uniformity
in religion was absolutely necessary to the support of government, and
that no toleration could with safety be given to sectaries.[*]

* See his essay De Unitate Ecclesiae.

Nothing but the imputation of idolatry, which was thrown on the Catholic
religion, could justify, in the eyes of the Puritans themselves, the
schism made by the Hugonots and other Protestants who lived in Popish
countries.

In all former ages, not wholly excepting even those of Greece and Rome,
religious sects, and heresies, and schisms had been esteemed dangerous,
if not pernicious, to civil government, and were regarded as the source
of faction, and private combination, and opposition to the laws.[*]
The magistrate, therefore, applied himself directly to the cure of
this evil, as of every other; and very naturally attempted, by penal
statutes, to suppress those separate communities, and punish the
obstinate innovators. But it was found by fatal experience, and after
spilling an ocean of blood in those theological quarrels, that the evil
was of a peculiar nature, and was both inflamed by violent remedies, and
diffused itself more rapidly throughout the whole society. Hence,
though late, arose the paradoxical principle and salutary practice of
toleration.

The liberty of the press was incompatible with such maxims and such
principles of government as then prevailed, and was therefore quite
unknown in that age. Besides employing the two terrible courts of
star chamber and high commission, whose powers were unlimited, Queen
Elizabeth exerted her authority by restraints upon the press. She passed
a decree in her court of star chamber, that is, by her own will and
pleasure, forbidding any book to be printed in any place but in London,
Oxford, and Cambridge:[**] and another, in which she prohibited, under
severe penalties, the publishing of any book or pamphlet "against the
form or meaning of any restraint or ordinance, contained, or to be
contained, in any statute or laws of this realm, or in any injunction
made or set forth by her majesty or her privy council, or against the
true sense or meaning of any letters patent, commissions or prohibitions
under the great seal of England."[***] James extended the same penalties
to the importing of such books from abroad.[****]

* See Cicero de Legibus.

** 28th of Elizabeth. See State Trials Sir Robert Knightly,
vol vii. 1st edit.

*** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 522.

**** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 522.

And to render these edicts more effectual, he afterwards inhibited
the printing of any book without a license from the archbishop of
Canterbury, the archbishop of York, the bishop of London, or the
vice-chancellor of one of the universities, or of some person appointed
by them.[*]

In tracing the coherence among the systems of modern theology, we may
observe, that the doctrine of absolute decrees has ever been intimately
connected with the enthusiastic spirit, as that doctrine affords the
highest subject of joy, triumph, and security to the supposed elect, and
exalts them by infinite degrees above the rest of mankind. All the first
reformers adopted these principles; and the Jansenists too, a fanatical
sect in France, not to mention the Mahometans in Asia, have ever
embraced them. As the Lutheran establishments were subjected to
Episcopal jurisdiction, their enthusiastic genius gradually decayed; and
men had leisure to perceive the absurdity of supposing God to punish
by infinite torments what he himself from all eternity had unchangeably
decreed. The king, though at this time his Calvinistic education had
rivetted him in the doctrine of absolute decrees, yet, being a zealous
partisan of Episcopacy, was insensibly engaged, towards the end of his
reign, to favor the milder theology of Arminius. Even in so great
a doctor, the genius of the religion prevailed over its speculative
tenets; and with him, the whole clergy gradually dropped the more rigid
principles of absolute reprobation and unconditional decrees. Some noise
was at first made about these innovations; but being drowned in the fury
of factions and civil wars which ensued, the scholastic arguments made
an insignificant figure amidst those violent disputes about civil and
ecclesiastical power with which the nation was agitated. And at the
restoration, the church, though she still retained her old subscriptions
and articles of faith, was found to have totally changed her speculative
doctrines, and to have embraced tenets more suitable to the genius of
her discipline and worship, without its being possible to assign the
precise period in which the alteration was produced.

It may be worth observing, that James, from his great desire to
promote controversial divinity, erected a college at Chelsea for the
entertainment of twenty persons, who should be entirely employed in
refuting the Papists and Puritans.[**]

* Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 616.

** Kennel, p. 685. Caraden's Brit vol. i. p. 370. Gibson's
edit.

All the efforts of the great Bacon could not procure an establishment
for the cultivation of natural philosophy: even to this day, no society
has been instituted for the polishing and fixing of our language. The
only encouragement which the sovereign in England has ever given to
any thing that has the appearance of science, was this short-lived
establishment of James; an institution quite superfluous, considering
the unhappy propension which at that time so universally possessed the
nation for polemical theology.

The manners of the nation were agreeable to the monarchical government
which prevailed, and contained not that strange mixture which at present
distinguishes England from all other countries. Such violent extremes
were then unknown, of industry and debauchery, frugality and profusion,
civility and rusticity, fanaticism and scepticism. Candor, sincerity,
modesty, are the only qualities which the English of that age possessed
in common with the present.

High pride of family then prevailed; and it was by a dignity and
stateliness of behavior, that the gentry and nobility distinguished
themselves from the common people. Great riches acquired by commerce
were more rare, and had not as yet been able to confound all ranks of
men, and render money the chief foundation of distinction. Much ceremony
took place in the common intercourse of life, and little familiarity was
indulged by the great. The advantages which result from opulence are so
solid and real, that those who are possessed of them need not dread the
near approaches of their inferiors. The distinctions of birth and title,
being more empty and imaginary, soon vanish upon familiar access and
acquaintance.

The expenses of the great consisted in pomp, and show, and a numerous
retinue, rather than in convenience and true pleasure. The earl of
Nottingham, in his embassy to Spain, was attended by five hundred
persons: the earl of Hertford, in that to Brussels, carried three
hundred gentlemen along with him. Lord Bacon has remarked, that the
English nobility, in his time, maintained a larger retinue of
servants than the nobility of any other nation, except, perhaps, the
Polanders.[*]

Civil honors, which now hold the first place, were at that time
subordinate to the military. The young gentry and nobility were fond
of distinguishing themselves by arms. The fury of duels, too, prevailed
more than at anytime before or since.[**] This was the turn that the
romantic chivalry, for which the nation was formerly so renowned, had
lately taken.

* Essays De profer, fin. imp.

** Franklyn, p. 5 See also Lord Herbert's Memoirs.

Liberty of commerce between the sexes was indulged, but without any
licentiousness of manners. The court was very little an exception to
this observation. James had rather entertained an aversion and contempt
for the females; nor were those young courtiers, of whom he was so fond,
able to break through the established manners of the nation.

The first sedan chair seen in England was in this reign, and was used
by the duke of Buckingham; to the great indignation of the people, who
exclaimed, that he was employing his fellow-creatures to do the service
of beasts.

The country life prevails at present in England beyond any cultivated
nation of Europe; but it was then much more generally embraced by all
the gentry. The increase of arts, pleasures, and social commerce,
was just beginning to produce an inclination for the softer and more
civilized life of the city. James discouraged, as much as possible, this
alteration of manners. "He was wont to be very earnest," as Lord Bacon
tells us, "with the country gentlemen to go from London to their country
seats. And sometimes he would say thus to them: 'Gentlemen, at London
you are like ships in a sea, which show like nothing; but in your
country villages you are like ships in a river, which look like great
things.'"[*]

He was not content with reproof and exhortation. As Queen Elizabeth had
perceived with regret the increase of London, and had restrained all new
buildings by proclamation, James, who found that these edicts were not
exactly obeyed, frequently renewed them; though a strict execution seems
still to have been wanting. He also issued reiterated proclamations,
in imitation of his predecessor; containing severe menaces against the
gentry who lived in town.[**]

* Apophthegms.

** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 632.

This policy is contrary to that which has ever been practised by all
princes who studied the increase of their authority. To allure the
nobility to court; to engage them in expensive pleasures or employments
which dissipate their fortune; to increase their subjection to ministers
by attendance; to weaken their authority in the provinces by absence:
these have been the common arts of arbitrary government. But James,
besides that he had certainly laid no plan for extending his power, had
no money to support a splendid court, or bestow on a numerous retinue of
gentry and nobility. He thought too, that by their living together, they
became more sensible of their own strength, and were apt to indulge too
curious researches into matters of government. To remedy the present
evil, he was desirous of dispersing them into their country seats;
where, he hoped, they would bear a more submissive reverence to his
authority, and receive less support from each other. But the contrary
effect soon followed. The riches amassed during their residence at home
rendered them independent. The influence acquired by hospitality made
them formidable. They would not be led by the court: they could not be
driven: and thus the system of the English government received a total
and a sudden alteration in the course of less than forty years.

The first rise of commerce and the arts had contributed, in preceding
reigns, to scatter those immense fortunes of the barons which rendered
them so formidable both to king and people. The further progress of
these advantages began, during this reign, to ruin the small proprietors
of land;[*] and, by both events, the gentry, or that rank which composed
the house of commons, enlarged their power and authority. The early
improvements in luxury were seized by the greater nobles, whose
fortunes, placing them above frugality, or even calculation, were soon
dissipated in expensive pleasures. These improvements reached at last
all men of property; and those of slender fortunes, who at that time
were often men of family, imitating those of a rank immediately above
them, reduced themselves to poverty. Their lands, coming to sale,
swelled the estates of those who possessed itches sufficient for the
fashionable expenses, but who were not exempted from some care and
attention to their domestic economy.

The gentry also of that age were engaged in no expense, except that of
country hospitality. No taxes were levied, no wars waged, no attendance
at court expected, no bribery or profusion required at elections.[**]
Could human nature ever reach happiness, the condition of the English
gentry, under so mild and benign a prince, might merit that appellation.

The amount of the king's revenue, as it stood in 1617, is thus
stated.[***]

* Cabala, p. 224, 1st edit.

** Men seem then to have been ambitious of representing the
counties, but careless on the boroughs. A seat in the house
was, in itself, of small importance: but the former became a
point of honor among the gentlemen. Journ. 10th Feb. 1620.
Towns which had formerly neglected their right of sending
members, now began to claim it. Journ. 26th Feb. 1623.

*** An Abstract, or brief Declaration of his Majesty's
Revenue, with the Assignations and Defalcations upon the
same.

Of crown lands, eighty thousand pounds a year; by customs and new
impositions, near one hundred and ninety thousand; by wards and other
various branches of revenue, besides purveyance, one hundred and eighty
thousand: the whole amounting to four hundred and fifty thousand. The
king's ordinary disbursements, by the same account, are said to exceed
this sum thirty-six thousand pounds.[*] All the extraordinary sums which
James had raised by subsidies, loans, sale of lands, sale of the
title of baronet, money paid by the states and by the king of France,
benevolences, etc., were, in the whole, about two millions two hundred
thousand pounds; of which the sale of lands afforded seven hundred and
seventy-five thousand pounds. The extraordinary disbursements of the
king amounted to two millions; besides above four hundred thousand
pounds given in presents. Upon the whole, a sufficient reason appears,
partly from necessary expenses, partly for want of a rigid economy,
why the king, even early in his reign, was deeply involved in debt, and
found great difficulty to support the government.

Farmers, not commissioners, levied the customs. It seems, indeed,
requisite, that the former method should always be tried before the
latter, though a preferable one. When men's own interest is concerned,
they fall upon a hundred expedients to prevent frauds in the merchants;
and these the public may afterwards imitate, in establishing proper
rules for its officers.

The customs were supposed to amount to five per cent. of the value, and
were levied upon exports, as well as imports. Nay, the imposition upon
exports, by James's additions, is said to amount, in some few instances,
to twenty-five per cent This practice, so hurtful to industry, prevails
still in France, Spain, and most countries of Europe. The customs in
1604 yielded one hundred and twenty-seven thousand pounds a year: [**]
they rose to one hundred and ninety thousand towards the end of the
reign.

* The excess was formerly greater, as appears by Salisbury's
account. See chap. 2.

** Journ. 21st May, 1604.

Interest, during this reign, was at ten per cent. till 1624, when it
was reduced to eight. This high interest is an indication of the great
profits and small progress of commerce.

The extraordinary supplies granted by parliament, during this whole
reign, amounted not to more than six hundred and thirty thousand pounds;
which, divided among twenty-one years, makes thirty thousand pounds
a year. I do not include those supplies, amounting to three hundred
thousand pounds, which were given to the king by his last parliament.
These were paid in to their own commissioners; and the expenses of
the Spanish war were much more than sufficient to exhaust them. The
distressed family of the palatine was a great burden on James, during
part of his reign. The king, it is pretended, possessed not frugality
proportioned to the extreme narrowness of his revenue. Splendid
equipages, however, he did not affect, nor costly furniture, nor a
luxurious table, nor prodigal mistresses. His buildings too were not
sumptuous; though the Banqueting House must not be forgotten, as a
monument which does honor to his reign. Hunting was his chief amusement,
the cheapest pleasure in which a king can indulge himself. His expenses
were the effects of liberality, rather than of luxury.

One day, it is said, while he was standing amidst some of his courtiers,
a porter passed by, loaded with money, which he was carrying to the
treasury. The king observed that Rich, afterwards earl of Holland,
one of his handsome, agreeable favorites, whispered something to one
standing near him. Upon inquiry, he found that Rich had said, "How happy
would that money make me!" Without hesitation, James bestowed it all
upon him, though it amounted to three thousand pounds. He added, "You
think yourself very happy in obtaining so large a sum; but I am more
happy in having an opportunity of obliging a worthy man, whom I love."
The generosity of James was more the result of a benign humor or light
fancy, than of reason or judgment. The objects of it were such as could
render themselves agreeable to him in his loose hours; not such as were
endowed with great merit, or who possessed talents or popularity which
could strengthen his interest with the public.

The same advantage, we may remark, over the people, which the crown
formerly reaped from that interval between the fall of the peers and
rise of the commons, was now possessed by the people against the crown,
during the continuance of a like interval. The sovereign had already
lost that independent revenue by which he could subsist without regular
supplies from parliament; and he had not yet acquired the means of
influencing those assemblies. The effects of this situation, which
commenced with the accession of the house of Stuart, soon rose to a
great height, and were more of less propagated throughout all the reigns
of that unhappy family.

Subsidies and fifteenths are frequently mentioned by historians; but
neither the amount of these taxes, nor the method of levying them,
have been well explained. It appears, that the fifteenths formerly
corresponded to the name, and were that proportionable part of the
movables.[*] But a valuation having been made in the reign of Edward
III., that valuation was always adhered to, and each town paid
unalterably a particular sum, which the inhabitants themselves assessed
upon their fellow-citizens. The same tax in corporate towns was called
a tenth; because there it was, at first, a tenth of the movables. The
whole amount of a tenth and a fifteenth throughout the kingdom, or a
fifteenth, as it is often more concisely called, was about twenty-nine
thousand pounds.[**] The amount of a subsidy was not invariable, like
that of a fifteenth. In the eighth of Elizabeth, a subsidy amounted
to one hundred and twenty thousand pounds: in the fortieth, it was
not above seventy-eight thousand.[***] It afterwards fell to seventy
thousand, and was continually decreasing.[****] The reason is easily
collected from the method of levying it. We may learn from the subsidy
bills,[v] that one subsidy was given for four shillings in the pound
on land, and two shillings and eightpence on movables throughout the
counties; a considerable tax, had it been strictly levied. But this was
only the ancient state of a subsidy. During the reign of James,
there was not paid the twentieth part of that sum. The tax was so far
personal, that a man paid only in the county where he lived, though he
should possess estates in other counties; and the assessors formed a
loose estimation of his property, and rated him accordingly.

* Coke's Inst. book iv. chap. 1, cf fifteenths, quinzins.

** Coke's Inst. book iv. chap. 1, subsidies temporary.

*** Journ. 11th July, 1610.

**** Coke's Inst. book iv. subsidies temporary.

v See Statutes at large.

To preserve, however, some rule in the estimation, it seems to have been
the practice to keep an eye to former assessments, and to rate every man
according as his ancestors, or men of such an estimated property, were
accustomed to pay. This was a sufficient reason why subsidies could not
increase, notwithstanding the great increase of money and rise of rents.
But there was an evident reason why they continually decreased.
The favor, as is natural to suppose, ran always against the crown;
especially during the latter end of Elizabeth, when subsidies became
numerous and frequent, and the sums levied were considerable, compared
to former supplies. The assessors, though accustomed to have an eye to
ancient estimations, were not bound to observe any such rule, but might
rate anew any person, according to his present income. When rents
fell, or parts of an estate were sold off, the proprietor was sure to
represent these losses, and obtain a diminution of his subsidy; but
where rents rose, or new lands were purchased, he kept his own secret,
and paid no more than formerly. The advantage, therefore, of every
change was taken against the crown; and the crown could obtain the
advantage of none. And, to make the matter worse, the alterations which
happened in property during this age, were in general unfavorable to the
crown. The small proprietors, or twenty-pound men, went continually to
decay; and when their estates were swallowed up by a greater, the new
purchaser increased not his subsidy. So loose, indeed, is the whole
method of rating subsidies, that the wonder was, not how the tax should
continually diminish, but how it yielded any revenue at all. It became
at last so unequal and uncertain, that the parliament was obliged to
change it into a land tax.

The price of corn during this reign, and that of the other necessaries
of life, was no lower, or was rather higher, than at present. By a
proclamation of James, establishing public magazines, whenever wheat
fell below thirty-two shillings a quarter, rye below eighteen, barley
below sixteen, the commissioners were empowered to purchase corn for the
magazines.[*] These prices then are to be regarded as low; though they
would rather pass for high by our present estimation. The usual bread of
the poor was at this time made of barley.[**] The best wool, during the
greater part of James's reign, was at thirty-three shillings a tod.[***]
At present, it is not above two-thirds of that value; though it is lo be
presumed that our exports in woollen goods are somewhat increased. The
finer manufactures, too, by the progress of arts and industry, have
rather diminished in price, notwithstanding the great increase of money.

* Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 526. To the same purpose, see also
21st lac vi. cap. 28.

** Rymer, tom. xx. p. 157.

*** See a compendium or dialogue inserted in the Memoirs of
Wool, chap. 23.

In Shakspeare, the hostess tells Falstaff, that the shirts she bought
him were Holland at eight shillings a yard; a high price at this day,
even supposing, what is not probable, that the best Holland at that time
was equal in goodness to the best that can now be purchased. In like
manner, a yard of velvet, about the middle of Elizabeth's reign, was
valued at two and twenty shillings. It appears from Dr. Birch's life of
Prince Henry,[*] that that prince, by contract with his butcher, paid
near a groat a pound throughout the year for all the beef and mutton
used in his family. Besides, we must consider, that the general turn of
that age, which no laws could prevent, was the converting of arable land
into pasture; a certain proof that the latter was found more profitable,
and consequently that all butcher's meat, as well as bread, was rather
higher than at present. We have a regulation of the market with regard
to poultry, and some other articles, very early in Charles I.'s reign;
[**] and the prices are high. A turkey cock four shillings and sixpence,
a turkey hen three shillings, a pheasant cock six, a pheasant hen five,
a partridge one shilling, a goose two, a capon two and sixpence, a
pullet one and sixpence, a rabbit eightpence, a dozen of pigeons six
shillings.[***] We must consider that London at present is more than
three times more populous than it was at that time; a circumstance which
much increases the price of poultry, and of every thing that cannot
conveniently be brought from a distance: not to mention, that these
regulations by authority are always calculated to diminish, never to
increase the market prices. The contractors for victualling the navy
were allowed by government eightpence a day for the diet of each man
when in harbor, sevenpence halfpenny when at sea; [****] which would
suffice at present. The chief difference in expense between that age
and the present consists in the imaginary wants of men, which have since
extremely multiplied.[v] These are the principal reasons why James's
revenue would go further than the same money in our time; though the
difference is not near so great as is usually imagined.

* Page 449.

** Rymer, tom. xix. p. 511.

*** We may judge of the great grievance of purveyance by
this circumstance, that the purveyors often gave but
sixpence for a dozen of pigeons, and twopence for a fowl.
Journ. 25th May, 1626.

**** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 441, et seq.

v This volume was written above twenty years before the
edition of 1778. In that short period, prices have perhaps
risen more than during the preceding hundred and fifty.

The public was entirely free from the danger and expense of a standing
army. While James was vaunting his divine vicegerency, and boasting of
his high prerogative, he possessed not so much as a single regiment
of guards to maintain his extensive claims; a sufficient proof that he
sincerely believed his pretensions to be well grounded, and a strong
presumption that they were at least built on what were then deemed
plausible arguments. The militia of England, amounting to one hundred
and sixty thousand men,[*] was the sole defence of the kingdom. It is
pretended that they were kept in good order during his reign.[**] The
city of London procured officers who had served abroad, and who taught
the trained bands their exercises in Artillery Garden; a practice
which had been discontinued since 1588. All the counties of England,
in emulation of the capital, were fond of showing a well-ordered and
well-appointed militia. It appeared, that the natural propensity of
men towards military shows and exercises will go far, with a little
attention in the sovereign, towards exciting and supporting this spirit
in any nation. The very boys, at this time, in mimicry of their elders,
enlisted themselves voluntarily into companies, elected officers, and
practised the discipline, of which the models were every day exposed
to their view.[***] Sir Edward Harwood, In a memorial composed at the
beginning of the subsequent reign, says, that England was so unprovided
with horses fit for war, that two thousand men could not possibly be
mounted throughout the whole kingdom.[****] At present, the breed of
horses is so much improved, that almost all those which are employed,
either in the plough, wagon, or coach, would be fit for that purpose.

The disorders of Ireland obliged James to keep up some forces there,
and put him to great expense. The common pay of a private man in the
infantry was eightpence a day, a lieutenant two shillings, an ensign
eighteen pence.[v]

* Journ. 1st March, 1623.

** Stowe. See also Sir Walter Raleigh of the Prerogatives of
Parliament, and Johnston Hist. lib. xviii.

*** Stowe.

**** In the Harleian Miscellany, vol. iv, p. 255.

v Rymer, tom. xvi. p. 717.

The armies in Europe were not near so numerous during that age; and
the private men, we may observe, were drawn from a better rank than at
present, and approaching nearer to that of the officers.

In the year 1583, there was a general review made of all the men in
England capable of bearing arms; and these were found to amount to
one million one hundred and seventy-two thousand men, according
to Raleigh.[*] It is impossible to warrant the exactness of this
computation; or rather, we may fairly presume it to be somewhat
inaccurate. But if it approached near the truth, England has probably,
since that time, increased in populousness. The growth of London,
in riches and beauty, as well as in numbers of inhabitants, has
been prodigious. From 1600, it doubled every forty years;[*] and
consequently, in 1680, it contained four times as many inhabitants as
at the beginning of the century. It has ever been the centre of all the
trade in the kingdom; and almost the only town that affords society and
amusement. The affection which the English bear to a country life, makes
the provincial towns be little frequented by the gentry. Nothing but
the allurements of the capital, which is favored by the residence of
the king, and by being the seat of government and of all the courts of
justice, can prevail over their passion for their rural villas.

London at this time was almost entirely built of wood, and in every
respect was certainly a very ugly city. The earl of Arundel first
introduced the general practice of brick buildings.[**]

The navy of England was esteemed formidable in Elizabeth's time, yet
it consisted only of thirty-three ships, besides pinnaces;[***] and the
largest of these would not equal our fourth-rates at present. Raleigh
advises never to build a ship of war above six hundred tons. James was
not negligent of the navy. In five years preceding 1623, he built ten
new ships, and expended fifty thousand pounds a year on the fleet.

* Sir William Petty.

** Sir Edward Walker's Political Discourses, p. 270

*** Coke's Inst. book iv. chap. 1. Consultation in
parliament for the navy.

Of the Invention of Shipping. This number is much superior to that
contained in Murden, and that delivered by Sir Edward Coke to the house
of commons; and is more likely.

By Raleigh's account, in his discourse of the first invention of
shipping, the fleet, in the twenty-fourth of the queen, consisted only
of thirteen ships, and was augmented afterwards eleven. He probably
reckoned some to be pinnaces, which Coke called ships, besides the value
of thirty-six thousand pounds in timber, which he annually gave from the
royal forests.[*] The largest ship that ever had come from the English
docks was built during this reign. She was only one thousand four
hundred tons, and carried sixty-four guns.[**] The merchant ships, in
cases of necessity, were instantly converted into ships of war. The king
affirmed to the parliament, that the navy had never before been in so
good a condition.[***]

Every session of parliament, during this reign, we meet with grievous
lamentations concerning the decay of trade, and the growth of Popery:
such violent propensity have men to complain of the present times, and
to entertain discontent against their fortune and condition. The king
himself was deceived by these popular complaints, and was at a loss
to account for the total want of money, which he heard so much
exaggerated.[****] It may, however, be affirmed, that during no
preceding period of English history, was there a more sensible increase,
than during the reign of this monarch, of all the advantages which
distinguish a flourishing people. Not only the peace which he maintained
was favorable to industry and commerce: his turn of mind inclined him
to promote the peaceful arts: and trade being as yet in its infancy, all
additions to it must have been the more evident to every eye which was
not blinded by melancholy prejudices.[v] [63]

By an account[v*] which seems judicious and accurate, it appears, that
all the seamen employed in the merchant service amounted to ten thousand
men, which probably exceeds not the fifth part of their present number.
Sir Thomas Overbury says, that the Dutch possessed three times more
shipping than the English, but that their ships were of inferior burden
to those of the latter.[v**] Sir William Monson computed the English
naval power to be little or nothing inferior to the Dutch,[v***] which
is surely an exaggeration. The Dutch at this time traded to England with
six hundred ships; England to Holland with sixty only.[v****]

* Journ. 11th March, 1623. Sir William Monson makes the
number amount only to nine new ships, (p. 253.)

** Stowe.

*** Parl. Hist, vol vi. p. 94.

**** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 413.

v See note LLL, at the end of the volume.

v* The trade's increase, in the Harleian Misc. vol. iii.

v** Remarks on his travels, Harl. Misc. vol. ii. p. 348.

v*** Naval Tracts, p. 329, 350.

v**** Raleigh's Observations.

A catalogue of the manufactures for which the English were then eminent,
would appear very contemptible, in comparison of those which flourish
among them at present. Almost all the more elaborate and curious arts
were only cultivated abroad, particularly in Italy, Holland, and the
Netherlands. Ship-building and the founding of iron cannon were the
sole in which the English excelled. They seem, indeed, to have possessed
alone the secret of the latter; and great complaints were made every
parliament against the exportation of English ordnance.

Nine tenths of the commerce of the kingdom consisted in woollen
goods.[*] Wool, however, was allowed to be exported, till the nineteenth
of the king. Its exportation was then forbidden by proclamation; though
that edict was never strictly executed. Most of the cloth was exported
raw, and was dyed and dressed by the Dutch; who gained, it is pretended,
seven hundred thousand pounds a year by this manufacture.[**] A
proclamation issued by the king against exporting cloth in that
condition, had succeeded so ill during one year, by the refusal of the
Dutch to buy the dressed cloth, that great murmurs arose against it; and
this measure was retracted by the king, and complained of by the nation,
as if it had been the most impolitic in the world. It seems indeed to
have been premature.

In so little credit was the fine English cloth even at home, that the
king was obliged to seek expedients by which he might engage the people
of fashion to wear it.[***] The manufacture of fine linen was totally
unknown in the kingdom.[****]

* Journ. 26th May, 1621.

** Journ. 20th May, 1614. Raleigh, in his Observations,
computes the loss at four hundred thousand pounds to the
nation. There are about eighty thousand undressed cloths,
says he, exported yearly. He computes, besides, that about
one hundred thousand pounds a year had been lost by kerseys;
not to mention other articles. The account of two hundred
thousand cloths a year exported in Elizabeth's reign, seems
to be exaggerated.

*** Kymer, tom. xvii. p. 415.

**** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 415.

The company of merchant adventurers, by their patent, possessed the sole
commerce of woollen goods, though the staple commodity of the kingdom.
An attempt made during the reign of Elizabeth to lay open this important
trade, had been attended with bad consequences for a time, by a
conspiracy of the merchant adventurers not to make any purchases of
cloth; and the queen immediately restored them their patent.

It was the groundless fear of a like accident, that enslaved the nation
to those exclusive companies which confined so much every branch of
commerce and industry. The parliament, however, annulled, in the third
of the king, the patent of the Spanish company; and the trade to Spain,
which was at first very insignificant, soon became the most considerable
in the kingdom. It is strange that they were not thence encouraged to
abolish all the other companies, and that they went no further than
obliging them to enlarge their bottom, and to facilitate the admission
of new adventurers.

A board of trade was erected by the king in 1622.[*] One of the reasons
assigned in the commission is, to remedy the low price of wool, which
begat complaints of the decay of the woollen manufactory. It is more
probable, however, that this fall of prices proceeded from the increase
of wool. The king likewise recommends it to the commissioners to inquire
and examine, whether a greater freedom of trade, and an exemption from
the restraint of exclusive companies, would not be beneficial. Men were
then fettered by their own prejudices; and the king was justly afraid
of embracing a bold measure, whose consequences might be uncertain.
The digesting of a navigation act, of a like nature with the famous
one executed afterwards by the republican parliament, is likewise
recommended to the commissioners. The arbitrary powers then commonly
assumed by the privy council, appear evidently through the whole tenor
of the commission.

The silk manufacture had no footing in England: but, by James's
direction, mulberry-trees were planted, and silk-worms introduced.[**]
The climate seems unfavorable to the success of this project. The
planting of hops increased much in England during this reign.

* Rymer tom, xvii. p. 410.

** Stowe

Greenland is thought to have been discovered about this period; and
the whale fishery was carried on with success: but the industry of the
Dutch, in spite of all opposition, soon deprived the English of this
source of riches. A company was erected for the discovery of the
north-west passage; and many fruitless attempts were made for that
purpose. In such noble projects, despair ought never to be admitted,
till the absolute impossibility of success be fully ascertained.

The passage to the East Indies had been opened to the English during
the reign of Elizabeth; but the trade to those parts was not entirely
established till this reign, when the East India company received a
new patent, enlarged their stock to one million five hundred thousand
pounds,[*] and fitted out several ships on these adventures. In 1609,
they built a vessel of twelve hundred tons, the largest merchant ship
that England had ever known. She was unfortunate, and perished by
shipwreck. In 1611, a large ship of the company, assisted by a pinnace,
maintained five several engagements with a squadron of Portuguese,
and gained a complete victory over forces much superior. During the
following years, the Dutch company was guilty of great injuries towards
the English, in expelling many of their factors, and destroying their
settlements: but these violences were resented with a proper spirit
by the court of England. A naval force was equipped under the earl
of Oxford,[**] and lay in wait for the return of the Dutch East India
fleet. By reason of cross winds, Oxford tailed of his purpose, and the
Dutch escaped. Some time after, one rich ship was taken by Vice-admiral
Merwin; and it was stipulated by the Dutch to pay seventy thousand
pounds to the English company, in consideration of the losses which that
company had sustained.[***]

* Journ. 26th Nov. 1621.

** In 1622.

*** Johnstoni Hist. lib. xix.

But neither this stipulation, nor the fear of reprisals, nor the sense
of that friendship which subsisted between England and the states, could
restrain the avidity of the Dutch company, or render them equitable
in their proceedings towards their allies. Impatient to have the sole
possession of the spice trade, which the English then shared with them,
they assumed a jurisdiction over a factory of the latter in the Island
of Amboyna; and on very improbable, and even absurd pretences, seized
all the factors with their families, and put them to death with the most
inhuman tortures. This dismal news arrived in England at the time
when James, by the prejudices of his subjects and the intrigues of
his favorite, was constrained to make a breach with Spain: and he was
obliged, after some remonstrances, to acquiesce in this indignity from
a state whose alliance was now become necessary to him. It is remarkable,
that the nation, almost without a murmur, submitted to this injury
from their Protestant confederates; an injury which, besides the horrid
enormity of the action, was of much deeper importance to national
interest, than all those which they were so impatient to resent from the
house of Austria.

The exports of England from Christmas, 1612, to Christmas 1613, are
computed at two millions four hundred and eighty-seven thousand four
hundred and thirty-five pounds; the imports at two millions one hundred
and forty-one thousand one hundred and fifty-one: so that the balance
in favor of England was three Hundred and forty-six thousand two hundred
and eighty-four.[*] But in 1622, the exports were two millions three
hundred and twenty thousand four hundred and thirty-six pounds; the
imports two millions six hundred and nineteen thousand three hundred and
fifteen; which makes a balance of two hundred and ninety-eight thousand
eight hundred and seventy-nine pounds against England.[**] The coinage
of England from 1599 to 1619 amounted to four millions seven hundred
and seventy-nine thousand three hundred and fourteen pounds thirteen
shillings and fourpence:[***] a proof that the balance, in the main,
was considerably in favor of the kingdom. As the annual imports and
exports together rose to near five millions, and the customs never
yielded so much as two Hundred thousand pounds a year, of which tonnage
made a part, it appears that the new rates affixed by James did not, on
the whole, amount to one shilling in the pound, and consequently were
still inferior to the intention of the original grant of parliament.
The East India company usually carried out a third of their cargo in
commodities.[****] The trade to Turkey was one of the most gainful to
the nation. It appears that copper halfpence and farthings began to be
coined in this reign.[v] Tradesmen had commonly carried on their retail
business chiefly by means of leaden tokens. The small silver penny was
soon lost, and at this time was nowhere to be found.

* Misselden's Circle of Commerce, p. 121.

** Misselden's Circle of Commerce, p. 121.

*** Happy Future State of England, p. 78.

**** Munn's Discourse on the East India Trade.

v Anderson, vol. i. p. 477.

What chiefly renders the reign of James memorable, is the commencement
of the English colonies in America; colonies established on the noblest
footing that has been known in any age or nation. The Spaniards, being
the first discoverers of the new world, immediately took possession of
the precious mines which they found there; and, by the allurement of
great riches, they were tempted to depopulate their own country, as well
as that which they conquered; and added the vice of sloth to those of
avidity and barbarity, which had attended their adventurers in those
renowned enterprises. That fine coast was entirely neglected which
reaches from St. Augustine to Cape Breton, and which lies in all the
temperate climates, is watered by noble rivers, and offers a fertile
soil, but nothing more, to the industrious planter. Peopled gradually
from England by the necessitous and indigent, who at home increased
neither wealth nor populousness, the colonies which were planted along
that tract have promoted the navigation, encouraged the industry, and
even perhaps multiplied the inhabitants of their mother country. The
spirit of independency, which was reviving in England, here shone
forth in its full lustre, and received new accession from the aspiring
character of those who, being discontented with the established church
and monarchy, had sought for freedom amidst those savage deserts.

Queen Elizabeth had done little more than given a name to the continent
of Virginia; and, after her planting one feeble colony, which quickly
decayed, that country was entirely abandoned. But when peace put an end
to the military enterprises against Spain, and left ambitious spirits
no hopes of making any longer such rapid advances towards honor and
fortune, the nation began to second the pacific intentions of its
monarch, and to seek a surer, though slower expedient, for acquiring
riches and glory. In 1606, Newport carried over a colony, and began a
settlement; which the company, erected by patent for that purpose
in London and Bristol, took care to supply with yearly recruits of
provisions, utensils, and new inhabitants. About 1609, Argal discovered
a more direct and shorter passage to Virginia, and left the track of the
ancient navigators, who had first directed their course southwards to
the tropic, sailed westward by means of the trade winds, and then turned
northward, till they reached the English settlements. The same year,
five hundred persons, under Sir Thomas Gates and Sir George Somers, were
embarked for Virginia. Somers's ship, meeting with a tempest, was driven
into the Bermudas, and laid the foundation of a settlement in those
islands. Lord Delawar afterwards undertook the government of the English
colonies: but, notwithstanding all his care, seconded by supplies from
James and by money raised from the first lottery ever known in the
kingdom, such difficulties attended the settlement of these countries,
that, in 1614, there were not alive more than four hundred men, of all
that had been sent thither. After supplying themselves with provisions
more immediately necessary for the support of life, the new planters
began the cultivating of tobacco; and James, notwithstanding his
antipathy to that drug, which he affirmed to be pernicious to men's
morals, as well as their health,[*] gave them permission to enter it
in England; and he inhibited by proclamation all importation of it from
Spain.[**] By degrees, new colonies were established in that continent,
and gave new names to the places where they settled, leaving that of
Virginia to the province first planted. The Island of Barbadoes was also
planted in this reign.

* Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 621.

** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 621, 633.

Speculative reasoners, during that age, raised many objections to the
planting of those remote colonies; and foretold that, after draining
their mother country of inhabitants, they would soon shake off her yoke,
and erect an independent government in America: but time has shown,
that the views entertained by those who encouraged such generous
undertakings, were more just and solid. A mild government and great
naval force have preserved, and may still preserve during some time, the
dominion of England over her colonies. And such advantages have commerce
and navigation reaped from these establishments, that more than a
fourth of the English shipping is at present computed to be employed in
carrying on the traffic with the American settlements.

Agriculture was anciently very imperfect in England. The sudden
transitions, so often mentioned by historians, from the lowest to the
highest price of grain, and the prodigious inequality of its value
in different years, are sufficient proofs, that the produce depended
entirely on the seasons, and that art had as yet done nothing to fence
against the injuries of the heavens. During this reign, considerable
improvements were made, as in most arts, so in this, the most beneficial
of any. A numerous catalogue might be formed of books and pamphlets
treating of husbandry, which were written about this time. The nation,
however, was still dependent on foreigners for daily bread; and though
its exportation of grain forms a considerable branch of its commerce,
notwithstanding its probable increase of people, there was, in that
period, a regular importation from the Baltic, as well as from France
and if it ever stopped, the bad consequences were sensibly felt by
the nation. Sir Walter Raleigh, in his Observations, computes that two
millions went out at one time for corn. It was not till the fifth of
Elizabeth, that the exportation of corn had been allowed in England; and
Camden observes, that agriculture from that moment received new life and
vigor.

The endeavors of James, or, more properly speaking, those--of the
nation, for promoting trade, were attended with greater success than
those for the encouragement of learning. Though the age was by no means
destitute of eminent writers, a very bad taste in general prevailed
during that period; and the monarch himself was not a little infected
with it.

On the origin of letters among the Greeks, the genius of poets and
orators, as might naturally be expected, was distinguished by an amiable
simplicity, which, whatever rudeness may sometimes attend it, is so
fitted to express the genuine movements of nature and passion, that the
compositions possessed of it must ever appear valuable to the discerning
part of mankind. The glaring figures of discourse, the pointed
antithesis, the unnatural conceit, the jingle of words; such false
ornaments were not employed by early writers; not because they were
rejected, but because they scarcely ever occurred to them. An easy,
unforced strain of sentiment runs through their compositions; though at
the same time we may observe, that, amidst the most elegant simplicity
of thought and expression, one is sometimes surprised to meet with a
poor conceit, which had presented itself unsought for, and which the
author had not acquired critical observation enough to condemn.[*]

* The name of Polynices, one of OEdipus's sons, means in the
original "much quarrelling." In the altercations between the
two brothers, in Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, this
conceit is employed; and it is remarkable, that so poor a
conundrum could not be rejected by any of these three poets,
so justly celebrated for their taste and simplicity. What
could Shakspeare have done worse? Terence has his "inceptio
est amentium, non amanthim." Many similar instances will
occur to the learned. It is well known that Aristotle treats
very seriously of puns, divides them into several classes,
and recommends the use of them to orators.

A bad taste seizes with avidity these frivolous beauties, and even
perhaps a good taste, ere surfeited by them: they multiply every day
more and more in the fashionable compositions: nature and good sense are
neglected: labored ornaments studied and admired: and a total degeneracy
of style and language prepares the way for barbarism and ignorance.
Hence the Asiatic manner was found to depart so much from the simple
purity of Athens: hence that tinsel eloquence which is observable in
many of the Roman writers, from which Cicero himself is not wholly
exempted, and which so much prevails in Ovid, Seneca, Lucan, Martial,
and the Plinys.

On the revival of letters, when the judgment of the public is yet raw
and unformed, this false glitter catches the eye, and leaves no room,
either in eloquence or poetry, for the durable beauties of solid sense
and lively passion. The reigning genius is then diametrically opposite
to that which prevails on the first origin of arts. The Italian writers,
it is evident, even the most celebrated, have not reached the proper
simplicity of thought and composition; and in Petrarch, Tasso, Guarini,
frivolous witticisms and forced conceits are but too predominant. The
period during which letters were cultivated in Italy was so short, as
scarcely to allow leisure for correcting this adulterated relish.

The more early French writers are liable to the same reproach. Voiture,
Balzac, even Coraeneille, have too much affected those ambitious
ornaments, of which the Italians in general, and the least pure of the
ancients, supplied them with so many models. And it was not till late,
that observation and reflection gave rise to a more natural turn of
thought and composition among that elegant people.

A like character may be extended to the first English writers; such as
flourished during the reigns of Elizabeth and James, and even till long
afterwards. Learning, on its revival in this island, was attired in the
same unnatural garb which it wore at the time of its decay among the
Greeks and Romans. And, what may be regarded as a misfortune, the
English writers were possessed of great genius before they were endowed
with any degree of taste, and by that means gave a kind of sanction to
those forced turns and sentiments which they so much affected. Their
distorted conceptions and expressions are attended with such vigor of
mind, that we admire the imagination which produced them, as much as we
blame the want of judgment which gave them admittance. To enter into
an exact criticism of the writers of that age, would exceed our present
purpose. A short character of the most eminent, delivered with the same
freedom which history exercises over kings and ministers, may not be
improper. The national prepossessions which prevail, will perhaps render
the former liberty not the least perilous for an author.

If Shakspeare be considered as a man, born in a rude age, and educated
in the lowest manner, without any instruction either from the world or
from books, he may be regarded as a prodigy: if represented as a poet,
capable of furnishing a proper entertainment to a refined or intelligent
audience, we must abate much of this eulogy. In his compositions,
we regret that many irregularities, and even absurdities, should so
frequently disfigure the animated and passionate scenes intermixed with
them; and at the same time, we perhaps admire the more those beauties,
on account of their being surrounded with such deformities. A striking
peculiarity of sentiment adapted to a singular character, he frequently
hits, as it were by inspiration; but a reasonable propriety of thought
he cannot for any time uphold. Nervous and picturesque expressions, as
well as descriptions, abound in him; but it is in vain we look either
for purity or simplicity of diction. His total ignorance of all
theatrical art and conduct, however material a defect, yet, as it
affects the spectator rather than the reader, we can more easily excuse,
than that want of taste which often prevails in his productions, and
which gives way only by intervals to the irradiations of genius. A great
and fertile genius he certainly possessed, and one enriched equally
with a tragic and comic vein; but he ought to be cited as a proof,
how dangerous it is to rely on these advantages alone for attaining an
excellence in the finer arts.[*] And there may even remain a suspicion,
that we overrate, if possible, the greatness of his genius; in the same
manner as bodies often appear more gigantic, on account of their being
disproportioned and misshapen. He died in 1616, aged fifty-three years.

* Invenire etiam barbari solent, disponere et ornare non
nisi eruditus.--PLIN

Jonson possessed all the learning which was wanting to Shakspeare, and
wanted all the genius of which the other was possessed. Both of
them were equally deficient in taste and elegance, in harmony and
correctness. A servile copyist of the ancients, Jonson translated into
bad English the beautiful passages of the Greek and Roman authors,
without accommodating them to the manners of his age and country. His
merit has been totally eclipsed by that of Shakspeare, whose rude genius
prevailed over the rude art of his contemporary. The English theatre has
ever since taken a strong tincture of Shakspeare's spirit and character;
and thence it has proceeded, that the nation has undergone, from all
its neighbors, the reproach of barbarism, from which its valuable
productions in some other parts of learning would otherwise have
exempted it. Jonson had a pension of a hundred marks from the king,
which Charles afterwards augmented to a hundred pounds He died in 1637,
aged sixty-three.

Fairfax has translated Tasso with an elegance and ease, and at the same
time with an exactness, which, for that age, are surprising. Each line
in the original is faithfully rendered by a correspondent line in the
translation. Harrington's translation of Ariosto is not likewise without
its merit. It is to be regretted, that these poets should have imitated
the Italians in their stanza, which has a prolixity and uniformity in
it that displeases in long performances. They had, otherwise, as well
as Spenser, who went before them, contributed much to the polishing and
refining of the English versification.

In Donne's satires, when carefully inspected, there appear some flashes
of wit and ingenuity; but these totally suffocated and buried by the
harshest and most uncouth expression that is any where to be met with.

If the poetry of the English was so rude and imperfect during that
age, we may reasonably expect that their prose would be liable to still
greater objections. Though the latter appears the more easy, as it is
the more natural method of composition, it has ever in practice been
found the more rare and difficult; and there scarcely is an instance,
in any language, that it has reached a degree of perfection, before the
refinement of poetical numbers and expression. English prose, during the
reign of James, was written with little regard to the rules of grammar,
and with a total disregard to the elegance and harmony of the period.
Stuffed with Latin sentences and quotations, it likewise imitated
those inversions, which, however forcible and graceful in the ancient
languages, are entirely contrary to the idiom of the English. I shall
indeed venture to affirm, that, whatever uncouth phrases and expressions
occur in old books, they were chiefly owing to the unformed taste of
the author; and that the language spoken in the courts of Elizabeth and
James, was very little different from that which we meet with at present
in good company. Of this opinion, the little scraps of speeches which
are found in the parliamentary journals, and which carry all air so
opposite to the labored: rations, seem to be a sufficient proof; and
there want not productions of that age, which, being written by men who
were not authors by profession, retain a very natural manner, and may
give us some idea of the language which prevailed among men of the
world. I shall particularly mention Sir John Davis's Discovery.
Throgmorton's, Essex's, and Nevil's letters. In a more early period,
Cavendish's life of Cardinal Wolsey, the pieces that remain of Bishop
Gardiner, and Anne Boleyn's letter to the king, differ little or nothing
from the language of our time.

The great glory of literature in this island during the reign of James,
was Lord Bacon. Most of his performances were composed in Latin; though
he possessed neither the elegance of that, nor of his native tongue. If
we consider the variety of talents displayed by this man, as a public
speaker, a man of business, a wit, a courtier, a companion, an author, a
philosopher, he is justly the object of great admiration. If we consider
him merely as an author and philosopher, the light in which we view
him at present, though very estimable, he was yet inferior to his
contemporary Galilaeo, perhaps even to Kepler. Bacon pointed out at a
distance the road to true philosophy: Galilaeo both pointed it out to
others, and made himself considerable advances in it. The Englishman was
ignorant of geometry: the Florentine revived that science, excelled
in it, and was the first that applied it, together with experiment, to
natural philosophy. The former rejected, with the most positive disdain,
the system of Copernicus: the latter fortified it with new proofs,
derived both from reason and the senses. Bacon's style is stiff and
rigid: his wit, though often brilliant, is also often unnatural and
far-fetched; and he seems to be the original of those pointed similes
and long-spun allegories which so much distinguish the English authors:
Galilaeo is a lively and agreeable, though somewhat a prolix writer.
But Italy not united in any single government, and perhaps satiated with
that literary glory which it has possessed both in ancient and modern
times, has too much neglected the renown which it has acquired by giving
birth to so great a man. That national spirit which prevails among the
English, and which forms their great happiness, is the cause why they
bestow on all their eminent writers, and on Bacon among the rest, such
praises and acclamations as may often appear partial and excessive. He
died in 1626, in the sixty-sixth year of his life.

If the reader of Raleigh's history can have the patience to wade through
the Jewish and rabbinical learning which compose the half of the volume,
he will find, when he comes to the Greek and Roman story, that his pains
are not unrewarded. Raleigh is the best model of that ancient style
which some writers would affect to revive at present. He was beheaded in
1618, aged sixty-six years.

Camden's history of Queen Elizabeth may be esteemed good composition,
both for style and matter. It is written with simplicity of expression,
very rare in that age, and with a regard to truth. It would not perhaps
be too much to affirm, that it is among the best historical productions
which have yet been composed by any Englishman. It is well known that
the English have not much excelled in that kind of literature. He died
in 1623, aged seventy-three years.

We shall mention the king himself at the end of these English writers;
because that is his place, when considered as an author. It may safely
be affirmed, that the mediocrity of James's talents in literature,
joined to the great change in national taste, is one cause of that
contempt under which his memory labors, and which is often carried by
party writers to a great extreme. It is remarkable, how different from
ours were the sentiments of the ancients with regard to learning. Of the
first twenty Roman emperors, counting from Caesar to Severus, above the
half were authors; and though few of them seem to have been eminent in
that profession, it is always remarked to their praise, that by their
example they encouraged literature. Not to mention Germanicus, and his
daughter Agrippina, persons so nearly allied to the throne, the greater
part of the classic writers whose works remain, were men of the highest
quality. As every human advantage is attended with inconveniencies, the
change of men's ideas in this particular may probably be ascribed to the
invention of printing; which has rendered books so common, that even men
of slender fortunes can have access to them.

That James was but a middling writer, may be allowed: that he was a
contemptible one, can by no means be admitted. Whoever will read his
Basilicon Doron, particularly the two last books, the true law of free
monarchies, his answer to Cardinal Perron, and almost all his speeches
and messages to parliament, will confess him to have possessed no mean
genius. If he wrote concerning witches and apparitions; who, in that age
did not admit the reality of these fictitious beings? If he has composed
a commentary on the Revelations, and proved the pope to be Antichrist;
may not a similar reproach be extended to the famous Napier; and even to
Newton, at a time when learning was much more advanced than during the
reign of James? From the grossness of its superstitions we may infer the
ignorance of an age; but never should pronounce concerning the folly
of an individual, from his admitting popular errors, consecrated by the
appearance of religion.

Such a superiority do the pursuits of literature possess above every
other occupation, that even he who attains but a mediocrity in them,
merits the preëminence above those that excel the most in the common and
vulgar professions. The speaker of the house of commons is usually an
eminent lawyer; yet the harangue of his majesty will always be found
much superior to that of the speaker, in every parliament during this
reign.

Every science, as well as polite literature, must be considered as being
yet in its infancy. Scholastic learning and polemical divinity retarded
the growth of all true knowledge. Sir Henry Saville, in the preamble
of that deed by which he annexed a salary to the mathematical and
astronomical professors in Oxford, says, that geometry was almost
totally abandoned and unknown in England.[*] The best learning of that
age was the study of the ancients. Casaubon, eminent for this species
of knowledge, was invited over from France by James, and encouraged by
a pension of three hundred pounds a year, as well as by church
preferments.[**] The famous Antonio di Dominis, archbishop of Spalatro,
no despicable philosopher, came likewise into England, and afforded
great triumph to the nation, by their gaining so considerable a
proselyte from the Papists. But the mortification followed soon after:
the archbishop, though advanced to some ecclesiastical preferments.[***]
received not encouragement sufficient to satisfy his ambition; he made
his escape into Italy, where he died in confinement.

* Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 217

** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 709.

*** Rymer, tom. xvii. p. 96.

NOTES.

[Footnote 1: NOTE A, p. 10. The parliament also granted the queen the
duties of tonnage and poundage; but this concession was at that time
regarded only as a matter of form, and she had levied these duties
before they were voted by parliament. But there was another exertion
of power which she practiced, and which people in the present age,
from their ignorance of ancient practices, may be apt to think a little
extraordinary. Her sister, after the commencement of the war with
France, had, from her own authority, imposed four marks on each tun
of wine imported, and had increased the poundage a third on all
commodities. Queen Elizabeth continued these impositions as long as she
thought convenient. The parliament, who had so good an opportunity
of restraining these arbitrary taxes when they voted the tonnage and
poundage, thought not proper to make any mention of them. They knew that
the sovereign, during that age, pretended to have the sole regulation of
foreign trade, and that their intermeddling with that prerogative
would have drawn on them the severest reproof, if not chastisement. See
Forbes, vol. i. p. 132, 133. We know certainly, from the statutes and
journals, that no such impositions were granted by parliament.]

[Footnote 2: NOTE B, p. 20. Knox, p. 127. We shall suggest afterwards
some reasons to suspect, that perhaps no express promise was ever given.
Calumnies easily arise during times of faction, especially those of
the religious kind, when men think every art lawful for promoting their
purpose. The congregation, in their manifesto, in which they enumerate
all the articles of the regent's mal-administration, do not reproach
her with this breach of promise. It was probably nothing but a rumor
spread abroad to catch the populace. If the Papists have sometimes
maintained that no faith was to be kept with heretics, their adversaries
seem also to have thought, that no truth ought to be told of idolaters.]

[Footnote 3: NOTE C. p. 23. Spotswood, p. 146. Melvil, p. 29. Knox,
p. 225, 228. Lesley, lib That there was really no violation of the
capitulation of Perth appears from the manifesto of the congregation in
Knox, p. 184, in which it is not so much as pretended. The companies
of Scotch soldiers were, probably, in Scotch pay, since the congregation
complains, that the country was oppressed with taxes to maintain armies.
Knox, p, 164, 165. And even if they had been in French pay, it had been
no breach of the capitulation, since they were national troops, not
French. Knox does not say, (p. 139,) that any of the inhabitants of
Perth were tried or punished for their past offences, but only that they
were oppressed with the quartering of soldiers; and the congregation,
in their manifesto, say only that many of them had fled for fear.
This plain detection of the calumny with regard to the breach of the
capitulation of Perth, may make us suspect a like calumny with regard
to the pretended promise not to give sentence against the ministers. The
affair lay altogether between the regent and the laird of Dun; and that
gentleman, though a man of sense and character, might be willing to take
some general professions for promises. If the queen, overawed by the
power of the congregation, gave such a promise in order to have liberty
to proceed to a sentence, how could she expect to have power to execute
a sentence so insidiously obtained? And to what purpose could it serve?]

[Footnote 4: NOTE D, p. 24. Knox, p. 153, 154, 155. This author pretends
that this article was agreed to verbally, but that the queen's scribes
omitted it in the treaty which was signed. The story is very unlikely,
or rather very absurd; and in the mean time it is allowed, that
the article is not in the treaty; nor do the congregation, in their
subsequent manifesto, insist upon it. Knox, p. 184. Besides, would
the queen regent, in an article of a treaty, call her own religion
idolatry?]

[Footnote 5: NOTE E, p. 25. The Scotch lords, in their declaration, say,
"How far we have sought support of England, or of any other prince, and
what just cause we had and have so to do, we shall shortly make manifest
unto the world, to the praise of God's holy name, and to the confusion
of fell those that slander us for so doing; for this we fear not to
confess, that, as in this enterprise against the devil, against idolatry
and the maintainers of the same, we chiefly and only seek God's glory to
be notified unto men, sin to be punished, and virtue to be maintained;
so where power faileth of ourselves, we will seek it wheresoever God
shall offer the same." Knox, p. 176.]

[Footnote 6: NOTE F, p. 61. This year, the council of Trent was
dissolved, which had sitten from 1545. The publication of its decrees
excited anew the general ferment in Europe, while the Catholics
endeavored to enforce the acceptance of them, and the Protestants
rejected them. The religious controversies were too far advanced
to expect that any conviction would result from the decrees of this
council. It is the only general council which has been held in an age
truly learned and inquisitive; and as the history of it has been written
with great penetration and Judgment, it has tended very much to expose
clerical usurpations and intrigues, and may serve us as a specimen of
more ancient councils. No one expects to see another general council,
till the decay of learning and the progress of ignorance shall again fit
mankind for these great impostures.]

[Footnote 7: NOTE G, p. 69. It appears, however, from Randolfs Letters,
(see Keith, p. 200,) that some offers had been made to that minister,
of seizing Lenox and Darnley, and delivering them into Queen Elizabeth's
hands. Melvil confirms the same story, and says that the design was
acknowledged by the conspirators, (p. 56.) This serves to justify
the account given by the queen's party of the Raid of Baith, as it is
called. See farther, Goodall, vol. ii. p. 358. The other conspiracy, of
which Murray complained, is much more uncertain, and is founded on very
doubtful evidence.]

[Footnote 8: NOTE H, p. 73. Buchanan confesses that Rizzio was ugly:
but it may be inferred, from the narration of that author, that he was
young. He says that, on the return of the duke of Savoy to Turin, Rizzio
was "in adolescentiæ vigore;" in the vigor of youth. Now, that event
happened only a few years before, (lib. xvii. cap. 44.) That Bothwell
was young, appears, among many other invincible proofs, from Mary's
instructions to the bishop of Dumblain, her ambassador at Paris; where
she says, that in 1559, only eight years before, he was "very young." He
might therefore have been about thirty when he married her. See Keith's
History, p. 388. From the appendix to the Epistolae Regum Scotorum. it
appears, by authentic documents, that Patrick, earl of Bothwell, father
to James, who espoused Queen Mary, was alive till near the year 1560.
Buchanan, by a mistake which has been long ago corrected, calls him
James.]

[Footnote 9: NOTE I, p. 84. Mary herself confessed, in her instructions
to the ambassadors, whom she sent to France, that Bothwell persuaded
all the noblemen, that their application in favor of his marriage
was agreeable to her. Keith, p. 389. Anderson, vol. i. p. 94. Murray
afterwards produced, to Queen Elizabeth's commissioners, a paper signed
by Mary, by which she permitted them to make this application to her.
This permission was a sufficient declaration of her intentions, and was
esteemed equivalent to a command. Anderson, vol. iv. p. 59. They even
asserted that the house in which they met was surrounded with armed men.
Goodall, vol. ii. p 141.]

[Footnote 11: NOTE K, p. 108 Mary's complaints of the queen's partiality
in admitting Murray to a conference was a mere pretext, in order to
break off the conference. She indeed employs that reason in her order
for that purpose, (see Goodall, vol. ii. p. 184;) but in her private
letter, her commissioners are directed to make use of that order to
prevent her honor from being attacked. Goodall, vol. ii. p. 183. It was
therefore the accusation only she was afraid of. Murray was the least
obnoxious of all her enemies. He was abroad when her subjects rebelled,
and reduced her to captivity. He had only accepted of the regency, when
voluntarily proffered him by the nation. His being admitted to Queen
Elizabeth's presence was therefore a very bad foundation for a quarrel,
or for breaking off the conference, and was plainly a mere pretence.]

[Footnote 12: NOTE L, p. 110. We shall not enter into a long discussion
concerning the authenticity of these letters. We shall only remark
in general, that the chief objections against them are, that they are
supposed to have passed through the earl of Morton's hands, the least
scrupulous of all Mary's enemies; and that they are, to the last degree,
indecent, and even somewhat inelegant, such as it is not likely she
would write. But to these presumptions we may oppose the following
considerations: 1. Though it be not difficult to counterfeit a
subscription, it is very difficult, and almost impossible, to
counterfeit several pages, so as to resemble exactly the handwriting
of any person. These letters were examined and compared with Mary's
handwriting, by the English privy council, and by a great many of the
nobility, among whom were several partisans of that princess. They might
have been examined by the bishop of Ross, Herreis, and others of Mary's
commissioners. The regent must have expected that they would be very
critically examined by them; and had they not been able to stand that
test, he was only preparing a scene of confusion to himself. Bishop
Lesley expressly declines the comparing of the hands, which he calls
no legal proof. Goodall, vol. ii. p. 389. 2. The letters are very
long, much longer than they needed to have been, in order to serve
the purposes of Mary's enemies; a circumstance which increased the
difficulty, and exposed any forgery the more to the risk of a detection.
3. They are not so gross and palpable as forgeries commonly are, for
they still left a pretext for Mary's friends to assert that their
meaning was strained to make them appear criminal. See Goodall, vol. ii.
p. 361. 4. There is a long contract of marriage, said to be written
by the earl of Huntley, and signed by the queen, before Bothwells
acquittal. Would Morton, without any necessity, have thus doubled the
difficulties of the forgery, and the danger of detection? 5. The letters
are indiscreet; but such was apparently Mary's conduct at that time.
They are inelegant; but they have a careless, natural air, like letters
hastily written between familiar friends. 6. They contain such a variety
of particular circumstances as nobody could have thought of inventing,
especially as they must necessarily have afforded her many means of
detection. 7. We have not the originals of the letters, which were in
French. We have only a Scotch and Latin translation from the original,
and a French translation, professedly done from the Latin. Now it is
remarkable that the Scotch translation is full of Gallicisms, and is
clearly a translation from a French original; such as make fault, faire
des fautes; make it seem that I believe, faire semblant de le croire;
make brek, faire brèche; this is my first journey, c'est ma première
journée; have you not desire to laugh? n'avez vous pas envie de rire;
the place will hold unto the death, la place tiendra jusqu'à la mort; he
may not come forth of the house this long time, il ne peut pas sortir du
logis de long-tems; to make me advertisement, faire m'avertir; put order
to it, metire ordre à cela; discharge your heart, décharger votre coeur;
make gud watch, faites bonne garde, etc. 8. There is a conversation
which she mentions between herself and the king one evening; but Murray
produced before the English commissioners the testimony of one Crawford,
a gentleman of the earl of Lenox, who swore that the king, on her
departure from him, gave him an account of the same conversation. 9.
There seems very little reason why Murray and his associates should
run the risk of such a dangerous forgery, which must have rendered them
infamous, if detected: since their cause, from Mary's known conduct,
even without these letters, was sufficiently good and justifiable. 10.
Murray exposed these letters to the examination of persons qualified
to judge of them: the Scotch council, the Scotch parliament, Queen
Elizabeth and her council, who were possessed of a great number of
Mary's genuine letters. 11. He gave Mary herself an opportunity of
refuting and exposing him, if she had chosen to lay hold of it. 12. The
letters tally so well with all the other parts of her conduct during
that transaction, that these proofs throw the strongest light on each
other. 13. The duke of Norfolk, who had examined these papers, and who
favored so much the queen of Scots, that he intended to marry her, and
in the end lost his life in her cause, yet believed them authentic,
and was fully convinced of her guilt. This appears, not only from his
letters, above mentioned, to Queen Elizabeth and her ministers, but by
his secret acknowledgment to Bannister, his most trusty confidant.
See State Trials, vol. i. p. 81. In the conferences between the duke,
Secretary Lidington, and the bishop of Ross, all of them zealous
partisans of that princess, the same thing is always taken for granted.
Ibid. p. 74, 75. See, further, MS. in the Advocates' library, A. 3, 28,
p. 314, from Cott. lib. Calig. c. 9. Indeed, the duke's full persuasion
of Mary's guilt, without the least doubt or hesitation, could not
have had place, if he had found Lidington or the bishop of Ross of a
different opinion, or if they had ever told him that these letters
were forged. It is to be remarked, that Lidington, being one of the
accomplices, knew the whole bottom of the conspiracy against King Henry,
and was, besides, a man of such penetration, that nothing could escape
him in such interesting events. 14. I need not repeat the presumption
drawn from Mary's refusal to answer. The only excuse for her silence is,
that she suspected Elizabeth to be a partial judge. It was not, indeed,
the interest of that princess to acquit and justify her rival and
competitor; and we accordingly find that Lidington, from the secret
information of the Duke of Norfolk, informed Mary, by the bishop of
Ross, that the queen of England never meant to come to a decision; but
only to get into her hands the proofs of Mary's guilt, in order to blast
her character. See State Trials, vol. i p. 77. But this was a better
reason for declining the conference altogether, than for breaking it
off, on frivolous pretences, the very moment the chief accusation was
unexpectedly opened against her. Though she could not expect Elizabeth's
final decision in her favor, it was of importance to give a satisfactory
answer, if she had any, to the accusation of the Scotch commissioners.
That answer could have been dispersed for the satisfaction of the
public, of foreign nations, and of posterity. And surely after the
accusation and proofs were in Queen Elizabeth's hands, it could do no
harm to give in the answers. Mary's information, that the queen
never intended to come to a decision, could be no obstacle to her
justification. 15. The very disappearance of these letters is a
presumption of their authenticity. That event can be accounted for no
way but from the care of King James's friends, who were desirous
to destroy every proof of his mother's crimes. The disappearance of
Morton's narrative, and of Crawford's evidence, from the Cotton library,
(Calig. c. I,) must have proceeded from a like cause. See MS. in the
Advocates' library, A. 3, 29, p. 88.

I find an objection made to the authenticity of the letters, drawn from
the vote of the Scotch privy council, which affirms the letters to be
written and subscribed by Queen Mary's own hand; whereas the copies
given in to the parliament, a few days after, were only written, not
subscribed. See Goodall, vol. ii. p. 64, 67. But it is not considered,
that this circumstance is of no manner of force. There were certainly
letters, true or false, laid before the council; and whether the letters
were true or false, this mistake proceeds equally from the inaccuracy or
blunder of the clerk. The mistake may be accounted for; the letters
were only written by her; the second contract with Bothwell was only
subscribed. A proper accurate distinction was not made; and they are
all said to be written and subscribed. A late writer, Mr. Goodall, has
endeavored to prove that these letters clash with chronology, and that
the queen was not in the places mentioned in the letters on the days
there assigned. To confirm this, he produces charters and other deeds
signed by the queen, where the date and place do not agree with the
letters. But it is well known, that the date of charters, and such like
grants, is no proof of the real day on which they were signed by the
sovereign. Papers of that kind commonly pass through different offices.
The date is affixed by the first office, and may precede very long the
day of the signature.

The account given by Morton of the manner in which the papers came
into his hands, is very natural. When he gave it to the English
commissioners, he had reason to think it would be canvassed with all the
severity of able adversaries, interested in the highest degree to
refute it. It is probable, that he could have confirmed it by many
circumstances and testimonies; since they declined the contest.

The sonnets are inelegant; insomuch that both Brantome and Bonsard, who
knew Queen Mary's style, were assured, when they saw them, that they
could not be of her composition. Jebb, voL ii p. 478. But no person is
equal in his productions, especially one whose style is so little formed
as Mary's must be supposed to be. Not to mention, that such dangerous
and criminal enterprises leave little tranquillity of mind for elegant
poetical compositions.

In a word, Queen Mary might easily have conducted the whole conspiracy
against her husband, without opening her mind to any one person except
Bothwell, and without writing a scrap of paper about it; but it was very
difficult to have conducted it so that her conduct should not betray her
to men of discernment. In the present case, her conduct was so gross as
to betray her to every body; and fortune threw into her enemies'
hands papers by which they could convict her. The same infatuation and
imprudence, which happily is the usual attendant of great crimes,
will account for both. It is proper to observe, that there is not one
circumstance of the foregoing narrative, contained in the history,
that is taken from Knox, Buchanan, or even Thuanus, or indeed from any
suspected authority.]

[Footnote 13: NOTE M, p. 111. Unless we take this angry accusation,
advanced by Queen Mary, to be an argument of Murray's guilt, there
remains not the least presumption which should lead us to suspect him to
have been anywise an accomplice in the king's murder. That queen
never pretended to give any proof of the charge; and her commissioners
affirmed at the time, that they themselves knew of none, though they
were ready to maintain its truth by their mistress's orders, and would
produce such proof as she should send them. It is remarkable that,
at that time, it was impossible for either her or them to produce any
proof; because the conferences before the English commissioners were
previously broken off.

It is true, the bishop of Ross, in an angry pamphlet, written by him
under a borrowed name, (where it is easy to say any thing,) affirms that
Lord Herreis, a few days after the king's death, charged Murray with the
guilt, openly to his face, at his own table. This latter nobleman, as
Lesley relates the matter, affirmed, that Murray, riding in Fife with
one of his servants, the evening before the commission of that crime,
said to him among other talk, "This night, ere morning, the Lord Darnley
shall lose his life." See Anderson, vol. i. p. 75. But this is only a
hearsay of Lesley's concerning a hearsay of Herreis's, and contains
a very improbable fact. Would Murray, without any use or necessity,
communicate to a servant such a dangerous and important secret, merely
by way of conversation;[**?] We may also observe, that Lord Herreis
himself was one of Queen Mary's commissioners, who accused Murray. Had
he ever heard this story, or given credit to it, was not that the time
to have produced it? and not have affirmed, as he did, that he, for his
part, knew nothing of Murray's guilt. See Goodall, vol. ii. p. 307.

The earls of Huntley and Argyle accuse Murray of this crime; but the
reason which they assign is ridiculous. He had given his consent to
Mary's divorce from the king; therefore he was the king's murderer. See
Anderson, vol. iv. part 2, p. 192. It is a sure argument, that these
earls knew no better proof against Murray, otherwise they would have
produced it, and not have insisted on so absurd a presumption. Was not
this also the time for Huntley to deny his writing Mary's contract with
Bothwell, if that paper had been a forgery?

Murray could have no motive to commit that crime. The king, indeed, bore
him some ill will; but the king himself was become so despicable, both
from his own ill conduct and the queen's aversion to him, that he could
neither do good nor harm to any body. To judge by the event, in any
case, is always absurd; especially in the present. The king's murder,
indeed, procured Murray the regency; but much more Mary's ill conduct
and imprudence, which he could not possibly foresee, and which never
would have happened, had she been entirely innocent.]

[Footnote 14: NOTE N, p. 111. I believe there is no reader of common
sense, who does not see, from the narrative in the text, that the author
means to say, that Queen Mary refuses constantly to answer before the
English commissioners, but offers only to answer in person before Queen
Elizabeth in person, contrary to her practice during the whole course of
the conference, till the moment the evidence of her being an accomplice
in her husband's murder is unexpectedly produced. It is true, the
author, having repeated four or five times an account of this demand
of being admitted to Elizabeth's presence, and having expressed his
opinion, that as it had been refused from the beginning, even before
the commencement of the conferences, she did not expect it would now be
complied with, thought it impossible his meaning could be misunderstood,
(as indeed it was impossible;) and not being willing to tire his reader
with continual repetitions, he mentions in a passage or two, simply,
that she had refused to make any answer. I believe, also, there is no
reader of common sense who peruses Anderson or Goodall's collections,
and does not see that, agreeably to this narrative, Queen Mary insists
unalterably and strenuously on not continuing to answer before the
English commissioners, but insists to be heard in person, by Queen
Elizabeth in person; though once or twice, by way of bravado, she says
simply, that she will answer and refute her enemies, without inserting
this condition, which still is understood. But there is a person that
has written an Inquiry, historical and critical, into the Evidence
against Mary Queen of Scots, and has attempted to refute the foregoing
narrative. He quotes a single passage of the narrative, in which Mary is
said simply to refuse answering; and then a single passage from Goodall,
in which she boasts simply that she will answer; and he very civilly,
and almost directly, calls the author a liar, on account of this
pretended contradiction. That whole Inquiry, from beginning to end,
is composed of such scandalous artifices; and from this instance, the
reader may judge of the candor, fair dealing, veracity, and good manners
of the inquirer. There are indeed three events in our history, which may
be regarded as touchstones of party-men. An English whig, who asserts
the reality of the Popish plot, an Irish Catholic, who denies the
massacre in 1641, and a Scotch Jacobite, who maintains the innocence of
Queen Mary, must be considered as men beyond the reach of argument or
reason, and must be left to their prejudices.]

[Footnote 15: NOTE O, p. 129. By Murden's state papers, published after
the writing of this history, it appears that an agreement had been made
between Elizabeth and the regent for the delivering up of Mary to him.
The queen afterwards sent down Killigrew to the earl of Marre, when
regent, offering to put Mary into his hands. Killigrew was instructed to
take good security from the regent that that queen should be tried
for her crimes, and that the sentence should be executed upon her. It
appears that Marre rejected the offer, because we hear no more of it.]

[Footnote 16: NOTE P, p. 130. Sir James Melvil (p. 108, 109) ascribes
to Elizabeth a positive design of animating the Scotch factions against
each other; but his evidence is too inconsiderable to counterbalance
many other authorities, and is, indeed, contrary to her subsequent
conduct, as well as her interest, and the necessity of her situation.
It was plainly her interest that the king's party should prevail, and
nothing could have engaged her to stop their progress, or even forbear
openly assisting them, but her intention of still amusing the queen
of Scots, by the hopes of being peaceably restored to her throne. See,
further Strype, vol. ii. Append. p. 20.]

[Footnote 17: NOTE Q, p. 187. That the queen's negotiations for marrying
the duke of Anjou were not feigned nor political, appears clearly
from many circumstances; particularly from a passage in Dr. Forbes's
manuscript collections, at present in the possession of Lord Royston.
She there enjoins Walsingham, before he opens the treaty, to examine
the person of the duke; and as that prince had lately recovered from
the small-pox, she desires her ambassador to consider, whether he
yet retained so much of his good looks, as that a woman could fix her
affections on him. Had she not been in earnest, and had she only meant
to amuse the public or the court of France, this circumstance was of no
moment.]

[Footnote 18: NOTE R, p. 203. D'Ewes, p. 328. The Puritanical sect had
indeed gone so far, that a book of discipline was secretly subscribed
by above five hundred clergymen; and the Presbyterian government thereby
established in the midst of the church, notwithstanding the rigor of
the prelates and of the high commission. So impossible is it by penal
statutes, however severe, to suppress all religious innovation. See
Neal's Hist. of the Puritans, vol. i. p. 483. Strype's Life of Whitgift,
p. 291.]

[Footnote 19: NOTE S, p. 205. This year, the earl of Northumberland,
brother to the earl beheaded some years before, had been engaged in a
conspiracy with Lord Paget for the deliverance of the queen of Scots. He
was thrown into the Tower; and being conscious that his guilt could be
proved upon him, at least that sentence would infallibly be pronounced
against him, he freed himself from further prosecution by a voluntary
death. He shot himself in the breast with a pistol. About the same time
the earl of Arundel, son of the unfortunate duke of Norfolk, having
entered into some exceptionable measures, and reflecting en the unhappy
fate which had attended his family, endeavored to depart secretly
beyond sea, but was discovered and thrown into the Tower. In 1587, this
nobleman was brought to his trial for high treason; chiefly because
he had dropped some expressions of affection to the Spaniards, and had
affirmed that he would have masses said for the success of the armada.
His peers found him guilty of treason. This severe sentence was not
executed; but Arundel never recovered his liberty. He died a prisoner
in 1595. He carried his religious austerities so far, that they were
believed the immediate cause of his death.]

[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.

It may not be amiss to subjoin some passages of these speeches; which
may serve to give us a just idea of the government of that age, and of
the political principles which prevailed during the reign of Elizabeth.
Mr. Laurence Hyde proposed a bill, entitled, An act for the explanation
of the common law in certain cases of letters patent. Mr. Spicer said,
"This bill may touch the prerogative royal, which, as I learned the last
parliament, is so transcendent, that the------of the subject may not
aspire thereunto. Far be it therefore from me that the state and
prerogative royal of the prince should be tied by me, or by the act of
any other subject." Mr. Francis Bacon said, "As to the prerogative royal
of the prince, for my own part, I ever allowed of it; and it is such as
I hope will never be discussed. The queen, as she is our sovereign, hath
both an enlarging and restraining power. For by her prerogative she
may set at liberty things restrained by statute, law, or otherwise;
and secondly, by her prerogative she may restrain things which be at
liberty. For the first, she may grant a 'non obstante' contrary to the
penal laws. With regard to monopolies and such like cases, the case hath
ever been to humble ourselves onto her majesty, and by petition desire
to have our grievances remedied, especially when the remedy touched
her so nigh in point of prerogative. I say, and I say it again, that we
ought not to deal, to judge or meddle with her majesty's prerogative. I
wish, therefore, every man to be careful of this business." Dr. Bennet
said, "He that goeth about to debate her majesty's prerogative had need
to walk warily." Mr. Laurence Hyde said, "For the bill itself, I made
it, and I think I understand it; and far be it from this heart of mine
to think, this tongue to speak, or this hand to write any thing either
in prejudice or derogation of her majesty's prerogative royal and the
state." "Mr. Speaker," quoth Serjeant Harris, "for aught I see, the
house moveth to have this bill in the nature of a petition. It must then
begin with more humiliation. And truly, sir, the bill is good of itself,
but the penning of it is somewhat out of course." Mr. Montague said,
"The matter is good and honest, and I like this manner of proceeding by
bill well enough in this matter. The grievances are great, and I would
only unto you thus much, that the last parliament we proceeded by way
of petition, which had no successful effect." Mr. Francis More said, "I
know the queen's prerogative is a thing curious to be dealt withal; yet
all grievances are not comparable. I cannot utter with my tongue, or
conceive with my heart, the great grievances that: the town and country,
for which I serve, suffereth by some of these monopolies. It bringeth
the general profit into a private hand, and the end of all this is
beggary and bondage to the subjects. We have a law for the true and
faithful currying of leather. There is a patent sets all at liberty,
notwithstanding that statute. And to what purpose is it to do any
thing by act of parliament, when the queen will undo the same by her
prerogative? Out of the spirit of humiliation, Mr. Speaker, I do speak
it, there is no act of hers that hath been or is mores derogatory to
her own majesty, more odious to the subject, more dangerous to the
commonwealth, than the granting of these monopolies." Mr. Martin said,
"I do speak for a town that grieves and pines, tor a country
that groaneth and languisheth, under the burden of monstrous and
unconscionable substitutes to the monopolitans of starch, tin, fish,
cloth, oil, vinegar, salt, and I know not what; nay, what not? The
principalest commodities, both of my town and country, are engrossed
into the hands of these bloodsuckers of the commonwealth. If a body, Mr.
Speaker, being let blood, be left still languishing without any remedy,
how can the good estate of that body still remain? Such is the state of
my town and country; the traffic is taken away, the inward and private
commodities are taken away, and dare not be used without the license of
these monopolitans. If these bloodsuckers be still let alone to suck up
the best and principalest commodities which the earth there hath given
us, what will become of us, from whom the fruits of our own soil, and
the commodities of our own labor, which, with the sweat of our brows,
even up to the knees in mire and dirt, we have labored for, shall be
taken by warrant of supreme authority, which the poor subject dare
not gainsay?" Mr. George Moore said, "We know the power of her majesty
cannot be restrained by any act. Why, wherefore, should we thus talk s
Admit we should make this statute with a non obstante; yet the queen may
grant a patent with a non obstante to cross this non obstante. I think,
therefore, it agreeth more with the gravity and wisdom of this house, to
proceed with all humbleness by petition than bill." Mr. Downland said,
"As I would be no let or over-vehement in any thing, so I am not sottish
or senseless of the common grievance of the commonwealth. If we proceed
by way of petition, we can have no more gracious answer then we had the
last parliament to our petition. But since that parliament, we have no
reformation." Sir Robert Wroth said, "I speak, and I speak it boldly,
these patentees are worse than ever they were." Mr. Hayward Townsend
proposed, that they should make suit to her majesty, not only to repeal
all monopolies grievous to the subject, but also that it would please
her majesty to give the parliament leave to make an act that they might
be of no more force, validity, or effect, than they are at the common
law, without the strength of her prerogative. Which though we might
now do, and the act being so reasonable, we might assure ourselves
her majesty would not delay the passing thereof, yet we, her loving
subjects, etc., would not offer without her privity and consent, (the
cause so nearly touching her prerogative,) or go about to do any such
act.

On a subsequent day, the bill against monopolies was again introduced,
and Mr. Spicer said, "It is to no purpose to offer to tie her majesty's
hands by act of parliament, when she may loosen herself at her
pleasure." Mr. Davies said, "God hath given that power to absolute
princes, which he attributes to himself. Dixi quod Dii estis.'" (N.
B. This axiom he applies to the kings of England.) Mr. Secretary Cecil
said, "I am servant to the queen, and before I would speak and give
consent to a case that should debase her prerogative, or abridge it, I
would wish that my tongue were cut out of my head. I am sure there
were law-makers before there were laws; (meaning, I suppose, that the
sovereign was above the laws.) One gentleman went about to possess us
with the execution of the law in an ancient record of 5 or 7 of Edward
III. Likely enough to be true in that time, when the king was afraid of
the subject. If you stand upon law, and dispute of the prerogative, hark
ye what Bracton says: 'Praerogativam nestram nemo audeat disputare.' And
for my own part, I like not these courses should be taken. And you,
Mr. Speaker, should perform the charge her majesty gave unto you in the
beginning of this parliament, not to receive bills of this nature; for
her majesty's ears be open to all grievances, and her hands stretched
out to every man's petitions. When the prince dispenses with a penal
law, that is left to the alteration of sovereignty, that is good and
irrevocable." Mr. Montague said, "I am loath to speak what I know, lest,
perhaps, I should displease. The prerogative royal is that which is
now in question, and which the laws of the land have ever allowed bad
maintained. Let us, therefore, apply by petition to her majesty."

After the speaker told the house that the queen had annulled many of the
patents, Mr. Francis More said, "I must confess, Mr. Speaker, I moved
the house both the last parliament and this, touching this point; but I
never meant (and I hope the house thinketh so) to set limits and bounds
to the prerogative royal." He proceeds to move that thanks should be
given to her majesty; and also that whereas divers speeches have been
moved extravagantly in the house, which, doubtless, have been told
her majesty, and perhaps ill conceived of by her, Mr. Speaker would
apologize, and humbly crave pardon for the same. N. B. These extracts
were taken by Townsend, a member of the house, who was no courtier; and
the extravagance of the speeches seems rather to be on the other side.
It will certainly appear strange to us that this liberty should be
thought extravagant.

However, the queen, notwithstanding her cajoling the house, was so ill
satisfied with these proceedings, that she spoke of them peevishly in
her concluding speech, and told them, that she perceived that private
respects with them were privately masked under public presence. D'Ewes,
p. 619.

There were some other topics in favor of prerogative, still more
extravagant, advanced in the house this parliament. When the question
of the subsidy was before them, Mr. Serjeant Heyle said, "Mr. Speaker,
I marvel much that the house should stand upon granting of a subsidy
or the time of payment, when all we have is her majesty's, and she may
lawfully at her pleasure take it from us; yea, she hath as much right
to all our lands and goods as to any revenue of her crown." At which all
the house hemmed, and laughed, and talked "Well," quoth Serjeant Heyle,
"all your hemming shall not put me out of countenance." So Mr. Speaker
stood up and said, "It is a great disorder that this house should be so
used." So the said serjeant proceeded, and when he had spoken a little
while, the house hemmed again; and so he sat down. In his latter speech,
he said, he could prove his former position by precedents in the time
of Henry III., King John, King Stephen, etc., which was the occasion
of then: hemming. D'Ewes, p. 633. It is observable, that Heyle was an
eminent lawyer, a man of character. Winwood, vol. i. p. 290. And though
the house in general showed their disapprobation, no one cared to take
him down, Or oppose these monstrous positions. It was also asserted this
session, that in the same manner as the Roman consul was possessed of
the power of rejecting or admitting motions in the senate, the speaker
might either admit or reject bills in the house. D'Ewes, p. 677. The
house declared themselves against this opinion; but the very proposal of
it is a proof at what a low ebb liberty was at that time in England.

In the year 1591, the judges made a solemn decree, that England was an
absolute empire, of which the king was the head. In consequence of this
opinion, they determined, that even if the act of the first of Elizabeth
had never been made, the king was supreme head of the church; and might
have erected, by his prerogative, such a court as the ecclesiastical
commission; for that he was the head of all his subjects. Now that court
was plainly arbitrary. The inference is, that his power was equally
absolute over the laity. See Coke's Reports, p. 5. Caudrey's case.]

[Footnote 39: NOTE MM, p. 359. We have remarked before, that Harrison,
in book ii. chap. 11, says, that in the reign of Henry VIII. there
were hanged seventy-two thousand thieves and rogues, (besides other
malefactors;) this makes about two thousand a year: but in Queen
Elizabeth's time, the same author says, there were only between three
and four hundred a year banged for theft and robbery; so much had the
times mended. But in our age, there are not forty a year hanged for
those crimes in all England. Yet Harrison complains of the relaxation of
the laws, that there were so few such rogues punished in his time. Our
vulgar prepossession in favor of the morals of former and rude ages, is
very absurd, and ill-grounded. The same author says, (chap. 10,) that
there were computed to be ten thousand gypsies in England; a species of
banditti introduced about the reign of Henry VIII.; and he adds, that
there will be no way of extirpating them by the ordinary course of
justice. The queen must employ martial law against them. That race has
now almost totally disappeared in England, and even in Scotland, where
there were some remains of them a few years ago. However arbitrary the
exercise of martial law in the crown, it appears that nobody in the age
of Elizabeth entertained any jealousy of it.]

[Footnote 40: NOTE NN, p. 367. Harrison, in his Description of Britain,
printed in 1577, has the following passage, (chap. 13:) "Certes there
is no prince in Europe that hath a more beautiful sort of ships than the
queen's majesty of England at this present; and those generally are
of such exceeding force, that two of them, being well appointed and
furnished as they ought, will not let to encounter with three or four of
them of other countries, and either bowge them or put them to flight,
if they may not bring them home. The queen's highness hath, at this
present, already made and furnished to the number of one and twenty
great ships, which lie for the most part in Gillingham Rode. Beside
these, her grace hath other in hand also, of whom hereafter, as their
turns do come about, I will not let to leave some further remembrance.
She hath likewise three notable galleys, the Speedwell, the Tryeright,
and the Black Galley, with the sight whereof, and the rest of the navy
royal, it is incredible to say how marvellously her grace is delighted;
and not without great cause, sith by their means her coasts are kept in
quiet, and sundry foreign enemies put back, which otherwise would invade
us." After speaking of the merchant ships, which, he says, are commonly
estimated at seventeen or eighteen hundred, he continues: "I add,
therefore, to the end all men should understand somewhat of the great
masses of treasure daily employed upon our navy, how there are few of
those ships of the first and second sort, (that is, of the merchant
ships,) that, being apparelled and made ready to sail, are not worth one
thousand pounds, or three thousand ducats at the least, if they should
presently be sold. What shall we then think of the navy royal, of which
some one vessel is worth two of the other, as the shipwright has often
told me? It is possible that some covetous person, hearing this report,
will either not credit at all, or suppose money so employed to be
nothing profitable to the queen's coffers; as a good husband said once,
when he heard that provisions should be made for armor, wishing the
queen's money to be rather laid out to some speedier return of gain
unto her grace. But if he wist that the good keeping of the sea is the
safeguard of our land, he would alter his censure, and soon give over
his judgment." Speaking of the forests, this author says, "An infinite
deal of wood hath been destroyed within these few years; and I dare
affirm, that if wood do go so fast to decay in the next hundred years of
grace, as they have done or are like to do in this, it is to be feared
that sea coal will be good merchandise even in the city of London."
Harrison's prophecy was fulfilled in a very few years; for about 1615,
there were two hundred sail employed in carrying coal to London. See
Anderson, vol. i. p. 494.]

[Footnote 41: NOTE OO, p. 373. Life of Burleigh, published by Collins,
f--44. The author hints that this quantity of plate was considered only
as small in a man of Burleigh's rank. His words are, "His plate was not
above fourteen or fifteen thousand pounds." That he means pounds weight
is evident. For, by Burleigh's will, which is annexed to his life, that
nobleman gives away in legacies, to friends and relations, near four
thousand pounds weight, which would have been above twelve thousand
pounds sterling in value. The remainder he orders to be divided into two
equal portions; the half to his eldest son and heir; the other half to
be divided equally among his second son and three daughters. Were we
therefore to understand the whole value of his plate to be only 14 or
16,000 pounds sterling, he left not the tenth of it to the heir of his
family.]

[Footnote 42: NOTE PP, p. 373. Harrison says, "The greatest part of
our building in the cities and good towns of England consisteth only
of timber, cast over with thick clay to keep out the wind. Certes, this
rude kind of building made the Spaniards in Queen Mary's days to wonder;
but chiefly when they saw that large diet was used in many of these so
homely cottages, insomuch that one of no small reputation amongst them
said after this manner: These English, quoth he, have their houses made
of sticks and dirt, but they fare commonly so well as the king. Whereby
it appeareth, that he liked better of our good fare in such coarse
cabins, than of their own thin diet in their princely habitations and
palaces. The clay with which our houses are commonly empanelled, is
either white, red, or blue." Book ii. chap. 12. The author adds, that
the new houses of the nobility are commonly of brick or stone, and that
glass windows were beginning to be used in England.]

[Footnote 43: NOTE QQ, p. 375. The following are the words of Roger
Ascham, the queen's preceptor: "It is your shame, (I speak to you all,
young gentlemen of England,) that one maid should go beyond ye all in
excellency of learning and knowledge of divers tongues. Point out six of
the best given gentlemen of this court, and all they together show not
so much good will, spend not so much time, bestow not so many hours
daily, orderly, and constantly, for the increase of learning and
knowledge, as doth the queen's majesty herself. Yea, I believe that
besides her perfect readiness in Latin, Italian, French, and Spanish,
she readeth here now at Windsor more Greek every day, than some
prebendary of this church doth Latin in a whole week. Amongst all the
benefits which God had blessed me withal, next the knowledge of Christ's
true religion, I count this the greatest, that it pleased God to call
me to be one poor minister in setting forward these excellent gifts of
learning," etc. (page 242.) "Truly," says Harrison, "it is a rare thing
with us now to hear of a courtier which hath but his own language; and
to say how many gentlewomen and ladies there are that, besides sound
knowledge of the Greek and Latin tongues, are thereto no less skilful in
the Spanish, Italian, and French, or in some one of them, it resteth
not in me, sith I am persuaded, that as the noblemen and gentlemen do
surmount in this behalf, so these come little or nothing at all behind
them for their parts; which industry God continue. The stranger, that
entereth in the court of England upon the sudden, shall rather imagine
himself to come into some public school of the university, where many
give ear to one that readeth unto them, than into a prince's palace, if
you confer thus with those of other nations." Description of Britain,
book ii. chap. 15. By this account, the court had profited by the
example of the queen. The sober way of life practised by the ladies of
Elizabeth's court appears from the same author. Reading, spinning, and
needlework occupied the elder; music the younger. Id. ibid.]

[Footnote 44: NOTE RR, p. 391. Sir Charles Cornwallis, the king's
ambassador at Madrid, when pressed by the duke of Lernia to enter into
a league with Spain, said to that minister, "Though his majesty was an
absolute king, and therefore not bound to give an account to any of his
actions, yet that so gracious and regardful a prince he was of the love
and contentment of his own subjects, as I assured myself he would not
think it fit to do any thing of so great consequence without acquainting
them with his intentions." Winwood, vol. ii. p. 222. Sir Walter Raleigh
has this passage in the preface to his History of the World: "Philip
II., by strong hand and main force, attempted to make himself not
only an absolute monarch over the Netherlands, like unto the kings and
monarchs of England and France, but, Turk like, to tread under his feet
all their natural and fundamental laws, privileges, and ancient rights."
We meet with this passage in Sir John Davis's Question concerning
impositions, (p. 161:) "Thus we see, by this comparison, that the king
of England doth lay but his little finger upon his subjects, when other
princes and states do lay their heavy loins upon their people. What is
the reason of this difference? from whence cometh it? assuredly not from
a different power or prerogative; for the king of England is as
absolute a monarch as any emperor or king in the world, and hath as many
prerogatives incident to his crown." Coke, in Cawdry's case, says, "that
by the ancient laws of this realm, England is an absolute empire and
monarchy; and that the king is furnished with plenary and entire power,
prerogative, and jurisdiction, and is supreme governor over all persons
within this realm,'" Spencer, speaking of some grants of the English
kings to the Irish corporations, says, "all which, though at the time of
their first grant they were tolerable, and perhaps reasonable, yet now
are most unreasonable and inconvenient. But all these will easily be cut
off, with the superior power of her majesty's prerogative, against which
her own grants are not to be pleaded or enforced." State of Ireland p.
1637, edit. 1706. The same author, in p. 1660, proposes a plan for the
civilization of Ireland; that the queen should create a marshal in every
county, who might ride about with eight or ten followers in search of
stragglers and vagabonds: the first time he catches any, he may punish
them more lightly by the stocks; the second time, by whipping; but the
third time, he may hang them, without trial or process, on the first
bough: and he thinks that this authority may more safely be intrusted to
the provost marshal than to the sheriff; because the latter magistrate,
having a profit by the escheats of felons, may be tempted to hang
innocent persons. Here a real absolute, or rather despotic power is
pointed out; and we may infer from all these passages, either that the
word absolute bore a different sense from what it does at present, or
that men's ideas of the English, as well as Irish government, were then
different. This latter inference seems juster. The word, being derived
from the French, bore always the same sense as in that language. An
absolute monarchy, in Charles I,'s answer to the nineteen propositions
is opposed to a limited; and the king of England is acknowledged not to
be absolute: so much had matters changed even before the civil war. In
Sir John Fortescue's treatise of absolute and limited monarchy, a book
written in the reign of Edward IV., the word absolute is taken in the
same sense as at present; and the government of England is also said not
to be absolute. They were the princes of the house of Tudor chiefly
who introduced that administration which had the appearance of absolute
government. The princes before them were restrained by the barons;
as those after them by the house of commons. The people had, properly
speaking, little liberty in either of these ancient governments, but
least in the more ancient.]

[Footnote 45: NOTE SS, p. 392. Even this parliament, which showed so
much spirit and good sense in the affair of Goodwin, made a strange
concession to the crown in their fourth session. Toby Mathews, a member,
had been banished by order of the council, upon direction from
his majesty. The parliament not only acquiesced in this arbitrary
proceeding, but issued writs for a new election: such novices were they
as yet in the principles of liberty. See Journ. 14th Feb. 1609. Mathews
was banished by the king on account of his change of religion to Popery.
The king had an indulgence to those who had been educated Catholics; but
could not bear the new converts. It was probably the animosity of the
commons against the Papists which made them acquiesce in this precedent,
without reflecting on the consequences. The jealousy of liberty, though
roused, was not yet thoroughly enlightened.]

[Footnote 46: NOTE TT, p. 394. At that time, men of genius and of
enlarged minds had adopted the principles of liberty, which were as yet
pretty much unknown to the generality of the people. Sir Matthew Hales
has published a remonstrance against the king's conduct towards the
parliament during this session. The remonstrance is drawn with great
force of reasoning and spirit of liberty; and was the production of Sir
Francis Bacon and Sir Edwin Sandys, two men of the greatest parts and
knowledge in England. It is drawn in the name of the commons; but as
there is no hint of it in the journals, we must conclude, either that
the authors, sensible that the strain of the piece was much beyond the
principles of the age, had not ventured to present it to the house, or
that it had been for that reason rejected. The dignity and authority of
the commons are strongly insisted upon in this remonstrance; and it
is there said, that their submission to the ill treatment which they
received during the latter part of Elizabeth's reign, had proceeded
from their tenderness towards her age and her sex. But the authors are
mistaken in these facts: for the house received and submitted to as bad
treatment in the beginning and middle of that reign. The government
was equally arbitrary in Mary's reign, in Edward's, in Henry VIII. and
VII.'s. And the further we go back into history, though there might
be more of a certain irregular kind of liberty among the barons, the
commons were still of less authority.]

[Footnote 47: NOTE UU, p. 398. This parliament passed an act of
recognition of the king's title in the most ample terms. They recognized
and acknowledged, that immediately upon the dissolution and decease of
Elizabeth, late queen of England, the imperial crown thereof did, by
inherent birthright and lawful and undoubted succession, descend and
come to his most excellent majesty, as being lineally, justly, and
lawfully next and sole heir of the blood royal of this realm. I James
I. cap. 1. The Puritans, though then prevalent, did not think proper
to dispute this great constitutional point. In the recognition of Queen
Elizabeth, the parliament declares, that the queen's highness is, and in
very deed and of most mere right ought to be, by the laws of God and
by the laws and statutes of this realm, our most lawful and rightful
sovereign, liege lady, and queen, etc. It appears, then, that if King
James's divine right be not mentioned by parliament, the omission
came merely from chance, and because that phrase did not occur to the
compiler of the recognition; his title being plainly the same with that
of his predecessor, who was allowed to have a divine right.]

[Footnote 50: NOTE XX, p. 405. Some historians have imagined, that the
king had secret intelligence of the conspiracy, and that the letter to
Monteagle was written by his direction, in order to obtain the praise
of penetration in discovering the plot. But the known facts refute this
supposition. That letter, being commonly talked of, might naturally have
given an alarm to the conspirators, and made them contrive their escape.
The visit of the lord chamberlain ought to have had the same effect. In
short, it appears that nobody was arrested or inquired after for some
days, till Fawkes discovered the names of the conspirators. We may
infer, however, from a letter in Winwood's Memorials, (vol. ii p. 171,)
that Salisbury's sagacity led the king in his conjectures, and that the
minister, like an artful courtier, gave his master the praise of the
whole discovery.

[Footnote 51: NOTE YY, p. 417. We find the king's answer in Winwood's
Memorials, vol. iii. r. 198, 2d edit. "To the third and fourth, (namely,
that it might be lawful to arrest the king's servants without leave, and
that no man should be enforced to lend money, nor to give a reason why
he would not,) his majesty sent us an answer, that because we brought
precedents of antiquity to strengthen those demands, he allowed not of
any precedents drawn from the time of usurping or decaying princes,
or people too bold and wanton; that he desired not to govern in that
commonwealth where subjects should be assured of all things, and hope
for nothing. It was one thing 'submittere principatum legibus,' and
another thing 'submittere principatum subditis.' That he would not leave
to posterity such a mark of weakness upon his reign; and therefore his
conclusion was, 'non placet petitio, non placet exemplum.:' yet with
this mitigation, that in matters of loans he would refuse no reasonable
excuse, nor should my lord chamberlain deny the arresting of any of his
majesty's servants, if just cause was shown." The parliament, however,
acknowledged at this time with thankfulness to the king, that he allowed
disputes and inquiries about his prerogative much beyond what had been
indulged by any of his predecessors. Parliament. Hist. vol. v. p. 230.
This very session he expressly gave them leave to produce all their
grievances, without exception.]

[Footnote 52: NOTE ZZ, p. 420. It may not be unworthy of observation,
that James, in a book called The true Laws of free Monarchies, which
he published a little before his accession to the crown of England,
affirmed, "That a good king, although he be above the law, will subject
and frame his actions thereto, for example's sake to his subjects, and
of his own free will, but not as subject or bound thereto." In another
passage, "According to the fundamental law already alleged, we daily
see, that in the parliament, (which is nothing else but the head court
of the king and his vassals,) the laws are but craved by his subjects,
and only made by him at their rogation, and with their advice. For
albeit the king make daily statutes and ordinances, enjoining such pains
thereto as he thinks meet, without any advice of parliament or estates,
yet it lies in the power of no parliament to make any kind of law or
statute, without his sceptre be to it, for giving it the force of a law."
King James's Works, p. 202. It is not to be supposed that, at such a
critical juncture, James had so little sense as directly, in so material
a point, to have openly shocked what were the universal established
principles of that age: on the contrary, we are told by historians, that
nothing tended more to facilitate his accession, than the good opinion
entertained of him by the English on account of his learned, and
judicious writings. The question, however, with regard to the royal
power, was at this time become a very dangerous point; and without
employing ambiguous, insignificant terms, which determined nothing, it
was impossible to please both king and parliament. Dr. Cowell, who had
magnified the prerogative in words too intelligible, fell this session
under the indignation of the commons. Parliament. Hist vol. v. p. 221.
The king himself after all his magnificent boasts, was obliged to make
his escape through a distinction which he framed between a king in
abstracto and a king in concreto: an abstract king, he said, had all
power; but a concrete king was bound to observe the laws of the country
which he governed. King James's Works, p. 533. But how bound? by
conscience only? or might his subjects resist him, and defend their
privileges? This he thought not fit to explain. And so difficult is it
to explain that point, that to this day, whatever liberties may be used
by private inquirers, the laws have very prudently thought proper to
maintain a total silence with regard to it.]

[Footnote 53: NOTE AAA, p. 434. Parliament. Hist. vol. v. p. 290. So
little fixed at this time were the rules of parliament, that the commons
complained to the peers of a speech made in the upper house by the
bishop of Lincoln; which it belonged only to that house to censure, and
which the other could not regularly be supposed to be acquainted with.
These at least are the rules established since the parliament became
a real seat of power and scene of business: neither the king must take
notice of what passes in either house, nor either house of what passes
in the other, till regularly informed of it. The commons, in their
famous protestation 1621, fixed this rule with regard to the king,
though at present they would not bind themselves by it. But as liberty
was yet new, those maxims which guard and regulate it were unknown and
unpractised.]

[Footnote 54: NOTE BBB, p. 452. Some of the facts in this narrative,
which seem to condemn Raleigh, are taken from the king's declaration,
which, being published by authority when the facts were recent, being
extracted from examinations before the privy council, and subscribed by
six privy councillors, among whom was Abbot, archbishop of Canterbury,
a prelate nowise complaisant to the court, must be allowed to have great
weight, or rather to be of undoubted credit. Yet the most material facts
are confirmed either by the nature and reason of the thing, or by Sir
Walter's own apology and his letters. The king's declaration is in the
Harleian Miscellany, vol. iii. No. 2.

1. There seems to be an improbability that the Spaniards, who knew
nothing of Raleigh's pretended mine, should have built a town, in
so wide a coast, within three miles of it. The chances are extremely
against such a supposition; and it is more natural to think that the
view of plundering the town led him thither, than that of working a
mine. 2. No such mine is there found to this day. 3. Raleigh in fact
found no mine, and in fact he plundered and burned a Spanish town. Is it
not more probable, therefore, that the latter was his intention? How
can the secrets of his breast be rendered so visible as to counterpoise
certain facts? 4. He confesses, in his letter to Lord Carew, that
though he knew it, yet he concealed from the king the settlement of
the Spaniards on that coast. Does not this fact alone render him
sufficiently criminal? 5. His commission empowers him only to settle on
a coast possessed by savage and barbarous inhabitants. Was it not the
most evident breach of orders to disembark on a coast possessed by
Spaniards? 6. His orders to Keymis, when he sent him up the river, are
contained in his own apology; and from them it appears that he knew
(what was unavoidable) that the Spaniards would resist, and would
oppose the English landing and taking possession of the country. His
intentions, therefore, were hostile from the beginning. 7. Without
provocation, and even when at a distance, he gave Keymis orders to
dislodge the Spaniards from their own town. Could any enterprise be more
hostile? And, considering the Spaniards as allies to the nation, could
any enterprise be more criminal? Was he not the aggressor, even though
it should be true that the Spaniards fired upon his men at landing?
It is said he killed three or four hundred of them. Is that so light a
matter? 8. In his letter to the king, and in his apology, he grounds his
defence on former hostilities exercised by the Spaniards against other
companies of Englishmen. These are accounted for by the ambiguity of
the treaty between the nations. And it is plain, that though these might
possibly be reasons for the king's declaring war against that nation,
they could never entitle Raleigh to declare war, and, without any
commission, or contrary to his commission, to invade the Spanish
settlements. He pretends indeed that peace was never made with Spain
in the Indies; a most absurd notion! The chief hurt which the Spaniards
could receive from England was in the Indies; and they never would have
made peace at all, if hostilities had been still to be continued on
these settlements. By secret agreement, the English were still allowed
to support the Dutch, even after the treaty of peace. If they had also
been allowed to invade the Spanish settlements, the treaty had been a
full peace to England, while the Spaniards were still exposed to the
full effects of war. 9. If the claim to the property of that country,
as first discoverers, was good, in opposition to present settlement,
as Raleigh pretends, why was it not laid before the king, with all its
circumstances, and submitted to his judgment? 10. Raleigh's force is
acknowledged by himself to have been insufficient to support him in the
possession of St. Thomas, against the power of which Spain was master
on that coast; yet it was sufficient as he owns, to take by surprise and
plunder twenty towns. It was not therefore his design to settle, but to
plunder. By these confessions, which I have here brought together, he
plainly betrays himself. 11. Why did he not stay and work his mine, as
at first he projected? He apprehended that the Spaniards would be upon
him with a greater force. But before he left England, he knew that this
must be the case, if he invaded any part of the Spanish colonies. His
intention therefore never was to settle, but only to plunder. 12. He
acknowledges that he knew neither the depth nor riches of the mine,
but only that there was some ore there. Would he have ventured all his
fortune and credit on so precarious a foundation? 13. Would the other
adventurers, if made acquainted with this, have risked every thing to
attend him? Ought a fleet to have been equipped for an experiment? Was
there not plainly an imposture in the management of this affair? 14. He
says to Keymis, in his orders, "Bring but a basket full of ore, and
it will satisfy the king that my project was not imaginary." This was
easily done from the Spanish mines, and he seems to have been
chiefly displeased at Keymis for not attempting it. Such a view was a
premeditated apology to cover his cheat. 15. The king in his declaration
imputes it to Raleigh, that as soon as he was at sea, he immediately
fell into such uncertain and doubtful talk of his* mine, and said that
it would be sufficient if he brought home a basket full of ore. From
the circumstance last mentioned, it appears that this imputation was not
without reason. 16. There are many other circumstances of great weight
in the king's declaration: that Raleigh, when he fell down to Plymouth,
took no pioneers with him, which he always declared to be his intention;
that he was nowise provided with instruments for working a mine, but had
a sufficient stock of warlike stores; that young Raleigh, in attacking
the Spaniards, employed the words, which, in the narration, I have
put in his mouth; that the mine was movable, and shifted as he saw
convenient; not to mention many other public facts, which prove him to
have been highly criminal against his companions as well as his country.
Howel, in his letters, says, that there lived in London, in 1645, an
officer, a man of honor, who asserted that he heard young Raleigh speak
these words, (vol. ii. letter 63.) That was a time when there was no
interest in maintaining such a fact. 17. Raleigh's account of his first
voyage to Guiana proves him to have been a man capable of the most
extravagant credulity or most impudent imposture. So ridiculous are the
stories which he tells of the Inca's chimerical empire in the midst
of Guiana; the rich city of El Dorado, or Manao, two days' journey in
length, and shining with gold and silver; the old Peruvian prophecies
in favor of the English, who, he says, were expressly named as the
deliverers of that country, long before any European had ever touched
there; the Amazons, or republic of women; and in general, the vast and
incredible riches which he saw on that continent, where nobody has
yet found any treasures. This whole narrative is a proof that he was
extremely defective either in solid understanding, or morals, or both.
No man's character indeed seems ever to have been carried to such
extremes as Raleigh's, by the opposite passions of envy and pity. In the
former part of his life, when he was active and lived in the world,
and was probably best known, he was the object of universal hatred and
detestation throughout England; in the latter part, when shut up in
prison, he became, much more unreasonably, the object of great love and
admiration.

As to the circumstances of the narrative, that Raleigh's pardon was
refused him, that his former sentence was purposely kept in force
against him, and that he went out under these express conditions, they
may be supported by the following authorities: 1. The king's word, and
that of six privy counsellors, who affirm it for fact. 2. The nature
of the thing. If no suspicion had been entertained of his intentions,
a pardon would never have been refused to a man to whom authority was
intrusted. 3. The words of the commission itself where he is simply
styled Sir Walter Raleigh, and not faithful and not beloved, according
to the usual and never-failing style on such occasions. 4. In all the
letters which he wrote home to Sir Ralph Winwood and to his own wife, he
always considers himself as a person unpardoned and liable to the law.
He seems, indeed, immediately upon the failure of his enterprise, to
have become desperate, and so have expected the fate which he met with.

It is pretended, that the king gave intelligence to the Spaniards of
Raleigh's project; as if he had needed to lay a plot for destroying a
man whose life had been fourteen years, and still was, in his power. The
Spaniards wanted no other intelligence to be on their guard, than the
known and public fact of Raleigh's armament. And there was no reason
why the king should conceal from them the project of a settlement which
Raleigh pretended, and the king believed, to be entirely innocent.

The king's chief blame seems to have lain in his negligence, in allowing
Raleigh to depart without a more exact scrutiny: but for this he
apologizes by saying, that sureties were required for the good behavior
of Raleigh and all his associates in the enterprise, but that they gave
in bonds for each other: a cheat which was not perceived till they had
sailed, and which increased the suspicion of bad intentions.

Perhaps the king ought also to have granted Raleigh a pardon for his old
treason, and to have tried him anew for his new offences. His punishment
in that case would not only have been just, but conducted in a just and
unexceptionable manner. But we are told, that a ridiculous opinion at
that time prevailed in the nation, (and it is plainly supposed by
Sir Walter in his apology,) that, by treaty, war was allowed with the
Spaniards in the Indies, though peace was made in Europe: and while that
notion took place, no jury would have found Raleigh guilty. So that had
not the king punished him upon the old sentence, the Spaniards would
have had a just cause of complaint against the king, sufficient to have
produced a war, at least to have destroyed all cordiality between the
nations.

This explication I thought necessary in order to clear up the story of
Raleigh; which, though very obvious, is generally mistaken in so gross a
manner, that I scarcely know its parallel in the English history.]

[Footnote 55: NOTE CCC, p. 458 This parliament is remarkable for being
the epoch in which were first regularly formed, though without acquiring
these denominations, the parties of court and country; parties which
have ever since continued, and which, while they often threaten
the total dissolution of the government, are the real causes of its
permanent life and vigor. In the ancient feudal constitution, of which
the English partook with other European nations, there was a mixture,
not of authority and liberty, which we have since enjoyed in this
island, and which now subsist uniformly together; but of authority and
anarchy, which perpetually shocked with each other, and which took place
alternately, according as circumstances were more or less favorable to
either of them. A parliament composed of barbarians, summoned from their
fields and forests, uninstructed by study, conversation, or travel;
ignorant of their own laws and history, and unacquainted with the
situation of all foreign nations; a parliament called precariously by
the king, and dissolved at his pleasure; sitting a few days, debating a
few points prepared for them, and whose members were impatient to return
to their own castles, where alone they were great, and to the chase,
which was their favorite amusement: such a parliament was very little
fitted to enter into a discussion of all the questions of government,
and to share, in a regular manner, the legal administration. The name,
the authority of the king alone appeared, in the common course of
government; in extraordinary emergencies, he assumed, with still better
reason, the sole direction; the imperfect and unformed laws left in
every thing a latitude of interpretation; and when the ends pursued by
the monarch were in general agreeable to his subjects, little scruple
or jealousy was entertained with regard to the regularity of the means.
During the reign of an able, fortunate, or popular prince, no member
of either house, much less of the lower, durst think of entering into
a formed party in opposition to the court; since the dissolution of the
parliament must in a few days leave him unprotected to the vengeance of
his sovereign, and to those stretches of prerogative which were then so
easily made in order to punish an obnoxious subject. During an unpopular
and weak reign, the current commonly ran so strong against the monarch,
that none durst enlist themselves in the court party; or if the prince
was able to engage any considerable barons on his side, the question was
decided with arms in the field, not by debates or arguments in a senate
or assembly. And upon the whole, the chief circumstance which, during
ancient times, retained the prince in any legal form of administration,
was, that the sword, by the nature of the feudal tenures, remained still
in the hands of his subjects; and this irregular and dangerous check had
much more influence than the regular and methodical limits of the laws
and constitution. As the nation could not be compelled, it was necessary
that every public measure of consequence, particularly that of levying
new taxes, should seem to be adopted by common consent and approbation.

The princes of the house of Tudor, partly by the vigor of their
administration, partly by the concurrence of favorable circumstances,
had been able to establish a more regular system of government; but they
drew the constitution so near to despotism, as diminished extremely the
authority of the parliament. The senate became in a great degree the
organ of royal will and pleasure: opposition would have been regarded as
a species of rebellion: and even religion, the most dangerous article in
which innovations could be introduced, had admitted, in the course of
a few years, four several alterations, from the authority alone of the
sovereign. The parliament was not then the road to honor and preferment:
the talents of popular intrigue and eloquence were uncultivated and
unknown: and though that assembly still preserved authority, and
retained the privilege of making laws and bestowing public money, the
members acquired not upon that account, either with prince or people,
much more weight and consideration. What powers were necessary for
conducting the machine of government, the king was accustomed of himself
to assume. His own revenues supplied him with money sufficient for his
ordinary expenses. And when extraordinary emergencies occurred, the
prince needed not to solicit votes in parliament, either for making laws
or imposing taxes, both of which were now became requisite for public
interest and preservation.

The security of individuals, so necessary to the liberty of popular
councils, was totally unknown in that age. And as no despotic princes,
scarcely even the Eastern tyrants, rule entirely without the concurrence
of some assemblies, which supply both advice and authority, little but
a mercenary force seems then to have been wanting towards the
establishment of a simple monarchy in England. The militia, though more
favorable to regal authority than the feudal institutions, was much
inferior in this respect to disciplined armies; and if it did not
preserve liberty to the people, it preserved at least the power, if ever
the inclination should arise, of recovering it.

But so low at that time ran the inclination towards liberty, that
Elizabeth, the last of that arbitrary line, herself no less arbitrary,
was yet the most renowned and most popular of all the sovereigns that
had filled the throne of England. It was natural for James to take the
government as he found it, and to pursue her measures, which he heard
so much applauded; nor did his penetration extend so far as to discover,
that neither his circumstances nor his character could support so
extensive an authority. His narrow revenues and little frugality began
now to render him dependent on his people, even in the ordinary course
of administration: their increasing knowledge discovered to them
that advantage which they had obtained; and made them sensible of the
inestimable value of civil liberty. And as he possessed too little
dignity to command respect, and too much good nature to impress fear, a
new spirit discovered itself every day in the parliament; and a party,
watchful of a free constitution, was regularly formed in the house of
commons.

But notwithstanding these advantages acquired to liberty, so extensive
was royal authority, and so firmly established in all its parts, that
it is probable the patriots of that age would have despaired of ever
resisting it, had they not been stimulated by religious motives, which
inspire a courage unsurmountable by any human obstacle.

The same alliance which has ever prevailed between kingly power and
ecclesiastical authority, was now fully established in England; and
while the prince assisted the clergy in suppressing schismatics and
innovators, the clergy, in return, inculcated the doctrine of an
unreserved submission and obedience to the civil magistrate. The
genius of the church of England, so kindly to monarchy, forwarded the
confederacy; its submission to episcopal jurisdiction; its attachment to
ceremonies, to order, and to a decent pomp and splendor of worship;
and, in a word, its affinity to the tame superstition of the Catholics,
rather than to the wild fanaticism of the Puritans.

On the other hand, opposition to the church, and the persecutions under
which they labored, were sufficient to throw the Puritans into the
country party, and to beget political principles little favorable to the
high pretensions of the sovereign. The spirit too of enthusiasm;
bold, daring, and uncontrolled; strongly disposed their minds to adopt
republican tenets; and inclined them to arrogate, in their actions and
conduct, the same liberty which they assumed in their rapturous flights
and ecstasies. Ever since the first origin of that sect, through the
whole reign of Elizabeth as well as of James, Puritanical principles had
been understood in a double sense, and expressed the opinions favorable
both to political and to ecclesiastical liberty. And as the court,
in order to discredit all parliamentary opposition, affixed the
denomination of Puritans to its antagonists, the religious Puritans
willingly adopted this idea, which was so advantageous to them, and
which confounded their cause with that of the patriots or country party.
Thus were the civil and ecclesiastical factions regularly formed; and
the humor of the nation, during that age, running strongly towards
fanatical extravagancies, the spirit of civil liberty gradually revived
from its lethargy, and by means of its religious associate, from which
it reaped more advantage than honor, it secretly enlarged its dominion
over the greater part of the kingdom.

This note was in the first editions a part of the text; but the
author omitted it, in order to avoid as much as possible the style of
dissertation in the body of his History. The passage, however,
contains views so important, that he thought it might be admitted as a
footnote]

[Footnote 56: NOTE DDD, p. 465. This protestation is so remarkable, that
it may not be improper to give it in its own words. "The commons now
assembled in parliament, being justly occasioned thereunto, concerning
sundry liberties, franchises, and privileges of parliament, amongst
others here mentioned, do make this protestation following: That the
liberties, franchises, and jurisdictions of parliament are the ancient
and undoubted birthright and inheritance of the subjects of England;
and that the urgent and arduous affairs concerning the king, state, and
defence of the realm and of the church of England, and the maintenance
and making of laws, and redress of mischiefs and grievances which daily
happen within this realm, are proper subjects and matter of counsel and
debate in parliament; and that, in the handling and proceeding of those
businesses, every member of the house of parliament hath, and of right
ought to have, freedom of speech to propound, treat, reason, and bring
to conclusion the same; and that the commons in parliament have like
liberty and freedom to treat of these matters, in such order as in their
judgment shall seem fittest; and that every member of the said house
hath like freedom from all impeachment, imprisonment, and molestation,
(other than by censure of the house itself,) for or concerning any
speaking, reasoning, or declaring of any matter or matters touching the
parliament or parliament business. And that if any of the said members
be complained of or questioned for any thing done or said in parliament,
the same is to be shown to the king by the advice and assent of all the
commons assembled in parliament, before the king give credence to any
private information." Franklyn, p. 65. Rush, vol. i p. 53. Kennet, p.
747. Coke, p. 77.]

[Footnote 57: NOTE EEE, p. 434. The moment the prince embarked at St.
Andero's, he said to those about him, that it was folly in the Spaniards
to use him so ill, and allow him to depart: a proof that the duke had
made him believe they were insincere in the affair of the marriage and
the Palatinate; for as to his reception in other respects, it had been
altogether unexceptionable. Besides, had not the prince believed the
Spaniards to be insincere, he had no reason to quarrel with them, though
Bucking-* *ham had. It appears, therefore, that Charles himself must
have been deceived. The multiplied delays of the dispensation, though
they arose from accident, afforded Buckingham a plausible pretext for
charging the Spaniards with insincerity.]

[Footnote 58: NOTE FFF, p. 486. Among other particulars, he mentions a
sum of eighty thousand pounds borrowed from the king of Denmark. In a
former speech to the parliament, he told them that he had expended
five hundred thousand pounds in the cause of the palatine, besides the
voluntary contributions given him by the people. See Franklyn, p. 50.
But what is more extraordinary, the treasurer, in order to show his own
good services, boasts to the parliament, that by his contrivance sixty
thousand pounds had been saved in the article of exchange in the sums
remitted to the palatine. This seems a great sum; nor is it easy to
conceive whence the king could procure such vast sums as would require a
sum so considerable to be paid in exchange. From the whole, however, it
appears, that the king had been far from neglecting the interests of his
daughter and son-in-law, and had even gone far beyond what his narrow
revenue could afford.]

[Footnote 59: NOTE GGG, p. 486. How little this principle had prevailed
during any former period of the English government, particularly during
the last reign, which was certainly not so perfect a model of liberty as
most writers would represent it, will easily appear from many passages
in the history of that reign. But the ideas of men were much changed
during about twenty years of a gentle and peaceful administration. The
commons, though James of himself had recalled all patents of monopolies,
were not contented without a law against them, and a declaratory law
too; which was gaining a great point, and establishing principles very
favorable to liberty: but they were extremely grateful when Elizabeth,
upon petition, (after having once refused their requests,) recalled
a few of the most oppressive patents, and employed some soothing
expressions towards them.

The parliament had surely reason, when they confessed, in the seventh
of James, that he allowed them more freedom of debate than ever was
indulged by any of his predecessors. His indulgence in this particular,
joined to his easy temper, was probably one cause of the great power
assumed by the commons. Monsieur de la Boderie, in his despatches, (vol.
i. p. 449,) mentions the liberty of speech in the house of commons as a
new practice.]

[Footnote 60: NOTE HHH, p. 491. Rymer, tom. xviii. p. 224. It is certain
that the young prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II., had Protestant
governors from his early infancy; first the earl of Newcastle, then the
marquis of Hertford. The king, in his memorial to foreign churches after
the commencement of the civil wars, insists on his care in educating
his children in the Protestant religion, as a proof that he was nowise
inclined to the Catholic, Rush. vol. v. p. 752. It can scarcely,
therefore, be questioned, but this article, which has so odd an
appearance, was inserted only to amuse the pope, and was never intended
by either party to be executed.]

[Footnote 61: NOTE III, p. 499. "Monarchies," according to Sir Walter
Raleigh, "are of two sorts touching their power or authority, viz. 1.
Entire, where the whole power of ordering all state matters, both in
peace and war, doth by law and custom appertain to the prince, as in the
English kingdom; where the prince hath the power to make laws, league,
and war, to create magistrates, to pardon life, of appeal, etc. Though
to give a contentment to the other degrees, they have a suffrage in
making laws, yet ever subject to the prince's pleasure and negative
will. 2. Limited or restrained, that hath no full power in all the
points and matters of state, as the military king that hath not the
sovereignty in time of peace, as the making of laws, etc., but in war
only, as the Polonian king." Maxims of State.

And a little after: "In every just state, some part of the government
is, or ought to be, imparted to the people, as in a kingdom, a voice and
suffrage in making laws; and sometimes also of levying of arms, (if the
charge be great, and the prince forced to borrow help of his subjects,)
the matter rightly may be propounded to a parliament, that the tax
may seem to have proceeded from themselves. So consultations and some
proceedings in judicial matters may in part be referred to them. The
reason, lest, seeing themselves to be in no number nor of reckoning,
they mislike the state or government." This way of reasoning differs
little from that of King James, who considered the privileges of the
parliament as matters of grace and indulgence, more than of inheritance.
It is remarkable that Raleigh was thought to lean towards the
Puritanical party, notwithstanding these positions. But ideas of
government change much in different times.

Raleigh's sentiments on this head are still more openly expressed in his
Prerogatives of Parliaments, a work not published till after his death.
It is a dialogue between a courtier, or counsellor, and a country
justice of peace, who represents the patriot party, and defends the
highest notion of liberty which the principles of that age would bear.
Here is a passage of it: "Counsellor. That which is done by the king,
with the advice of his private or privy council, is done by the king's
absolute power. Justice. And by whose power is it done in parliament but
by the king's absolute power? Mistake it not, my lord: the three estates
do but advise as the privy council doth; which advice if the king
embrace, it becomes the king's own act in the one, and the king's law in
the other," etc.

The earl of Clare, in a private letter to his son-in-law, Sir Thomas
Wentworth, afterwards earl of Strafford, thus expresses himself "We live
under a prerogative government, where book law submits to lex loquens."
He spoke from his own and all his ancestors experience. There was no
single instance of power which a king of England might not at that time
exert, on pretence of necessity or expediency: the continuance alone, or
frequent repetition of arbitrary administration, might prove dangerous,
for want of force to support it. It is remarkable, that this letter of
the earl of Clare was written in the first year of Charles's reign; and
consequently must be meant of the general genius of the government, not
the spirit or temper of the monarch. See Strafford's Letters, vol. i.
p. 32. From another letter in the same collection, (vol. i. p. 10,)
it appears that the council sometimes assumed the power of forbidding
persons disagreeable to the court to stand in the elections. This
authority they could exert in some instances; but we are not thence to
inter, that they could shut the door of that house to every one who was
not acceptable to them. The genius of the ancient government reposed
more trust in the king, than to entertain any such suspicion; and it
allowed scattered instances of such a kind, as would have been totally
destructive of the constitution, had they been continued without
interruption.

I have not met with any English writer in that age who speaks of England
as a limited monarchy, but as an absolute one, where the people have
many privileges. That is no contradiction. In all European monarchies
the people have privileges; but whether dependent or independent on the
will of the monarch, is a question that in most governments it is better
to forbear. Surely that question was not determined before the age of
James. The rising spirit of the parliament, together with that king's
love of general, speculative principles, brought it from its obscurity,
and made it be commonly canvassed. The strongest testimony that I
remember from a writer of James's age in favor of English liberty, is in
Cardinal Bentivoglio, a foreigner, who mentions the English government
as similar to that of the Low Country provinces under their princes,
rather than to that of France or Spain. Englishmen were not so sensible
that their prince was limited, because they were sensible that no
individual had any security against a stretch of prerogative: but
foreigners, by comparison, could perceive that these stretches were at
that time, from custom or other causes, less frequent in England than
in other monarchies. Philip de Comines, too, remarked the English
constitution to be more popular in his time than that of France. But in
a paper written by a patriot in 1627, it is remarked, that the freedom
of speech in parliament had been lost in England since the days of
Comines. Franklyn, p. 238. Here is a stanza of Malherbe's Ode to Mary de
Medicis, the queen regent, written in 1614.

Entre les rois à qui cet age Doit son principal ornement, Ceux de la
Tamise et du Tage Font louer leur gouvernement: Mais en de si calmes
provinces, Où le peuple adore les princes, Et met au gré le plus haut
L'honneur du sceptre légitime, Sauroit-on excuser le crime De ne regner
pas comme il faut.

The English, as well as the Spaniards, are here pointed out as much
more obedient subjects than the French, and much more tractable and
submissive to their princes. Though this passage be taken from a poet,
every man of judgment will allow its authority to be decisive. The
character of a national government cannot be unknown in Europe; though
it changes sometimes very suddenly. Machiavel, in his Dissertations on
Livy, says repeatedly, that France was the most legal and most popular
monarchy then in Europe.]

[Footnote 62: NOTE KKK, p. 499. Passive obedience is expressly and
zealously inculcated in the homilies composed and published by authority
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The convocation, which met in the very
first year of the king's reign, voted as high monarchical principles as
are contained in the decrees of the University of Oxford during the
rule of the Tories. These principles, so far from being deemed a novelty
introduced by James's influence, passed so smoothly, that no historian
has taken notice of them: they were never the subject of controversy,
or dispute, or discourse; and it is only by means of Bishop Overall's
Convocation Book, printed near seventy years after, that we are
acquainted with them. Would James, who was so cautious, and even timid,
have ventured to begin his reign with a bold stroke, which would have
given just ground of jealousy to his subjects? It appears from that
monarch's Basilicon Doron, written while he was in Scotland, that the
republican ideas of the origin of power from the people, were at that
time esteemed Puritanical novelties. The patriarchal scheme, it is
remarkable, is inculcated in those votes of the convocation preserved by
Overall; nor was Filmer the first inventor of those absurd notions.]

[Footnote 63: NOTE LLL, p. 514. That of the honest historian Stowe seems
not to have been of this number. "The great blessings of God," says
he, "through increase of wealth in the common subjects of this land,
especially upon the citizens of London; such within men's memory, and
chiefly within these few years of peace, that, except there were now
due mention of some sort made thereof, it would in time to come be held
incredible," etc. In another place, "Amongst the manifold tokens and
signs of the infinite blessings of Almighty God bestowed upon this
kingdom, by the wondrous and merciful establishing of peace within
ourselves, and the full benefit of concord with all Christian nations
and others; of all which graces let no man dare to presume he can speak
too much; whereof in truth there can never be enough said, neither was
there ever any people less considerate and less thankful than at this
time, being not willing to endure the memory of their present happiness,
as well as in the universal increase of commerce and traffic throughout
the kingdom, great building of royal ships and by private merchants, the
repeopling of cities, towns, and villages, beside the discernible and
sudden increase of fair and costly buildings, as well within the city
of London as the suburbs thereof, especially within these twelve years,"
etc.]

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol.I., Part D. - From Elizabeth to James I." ***

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