Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth Part 31

The demonstrations of grief for his loss, and the honors paid to his memory, went far beyond all former example, and appeared to exceed what belonged to a private citizen. The court went into mourning for him, and his remains received a magnificent funeral in St. Paul's, the United Provinces having in vain requested permission to inter him at their own expense, with the promise that he should have as fair a tomb as any prince in Christendom. Elizabeth always remembered him with affection and regret. Cambridge and Oxford published three volumes of "_Lachrymae_"

on the melancholy event. Spenser in verse, and Camden in prose, commemorated and deplored their friend and patron. A crowd of humbler contemporaries pressed emulously forward to offer up their mite of panegyric and lamentation; and it would be endless to enumerate the poets and other writers of later times, who have celebrated in various forms the name of Sidney. Foreigners of the highest distinction claimed a share in the general sentiment. Du Plessis Mornay condoled with Walsingham on the loss of his incomparable son-in-law in terms of the deepest sorrow. Count Hohenlo pa.s.sionately bewailed his friend and fellow-soldier, to whose representations and intercessions he had sacrificed his just indignation against the proceedings of Leicester.

Even the hard heart of Philip II. was touched by the untimely fate of his G.o.dson, though slain in bearing arms against him.

We are told that on the next tilt-day after the last wife of the earl of Leicester had borne him a son, Sidney appeared with a shield on which was the word "_Speravi_" dashed through. This anecdote,--if indeed the allusion of the motto be rightly explained, which it is difficult to believe,--would serve to show how publicly he had been regarded, both by himself and others, as the heir of his all-powerful uncle. The death of this child, on which occasion adulatory verses were produced by the university of Cambridge, restored Sidney, the year before his death, to this brilliant expectancy; and it cannot reasonably be doubted, that the academic honors paid to his memory were, like the court-mourning, a homage to the power of the living rather than the virtues of the dead.

But though he should be judged to have owed to his connexion with a royal favorite much of his contemporary celebrity, and even in some measure his enduring fame, no candid estimator will suffer himself to be hurried, under an idea of correcting the former partiality of fortune, into the clear injustice of denying to this accomplished character a just t.i.tle to the esteem and admiration of posterity. On the contrary, it will be considered, that the very circ.u.mstances which rendered him so early conspicuous, would also expose him to the shafts of malice and envy; and that if his spirit had not been in reality n.o.ble, and his conduct irreproachable, it would have exceeded all the power of Leicester to shield the reputation of his nephew against attacks similar to those from which he had found it impracticable to defend his own.

Philip Sidney was educated, by the cares of a wise and excellent father, in the purest and most elevated moral principles and in the best learning of the age. A letter of advice addressed to him by this exemplary parent at the age of twelve, fully exemplifies both the laudable solicitude of sir Henry respecting his future character, and the soundness of his views and maxims: in the character of his son, as advancing to manhood, he saw his hopes exceeded and his prayers fulfilled. Nothing could be more correct than his conduct, more laudable than his pursuits, while on his travels; young as he was, he merited the friendship of Hubert Languet. He also gained just and high reputation for the manner in which he acquitted himself of an emba.s.sy to the protestant princes of Germany, though somewhat of the ostentation and family pride of a Dudley was apparent in the port which he thought it necessary to a.s.sume on the occasion. After his return, he commenced the life of a courtier; and that indiscriminate thirst for glory which was in some measure the foible of his character, led him into an ostentatious profusion, which, by involving his affairs, rendered it necessary for him to solicit the pecuniary favors of her majesty, and to earn them by some acts of adulation unworthy of his spirit: for all these, however, he made large amends by his n.o.ble letter against the French marriage. He afterwards took up, with a zeal and ability highly honorable to his heart and his head, the defence of his father, accused, but finally acquitted, of some stretches of power as lord-deputy of Ireland. This business involved him in disputes with the earl of Ormond, his father's enemy, who seems to have generously overlooked provocations which might have led to more serious consequences, in consideration of the filial feelings of his youthful adversary.

These indications of a bold and forward spirit appear however to have somewhat injured him in the mind of her majesty; his advancement by no means kept pace either with his wishes or his wants; and a subsequent quarrel with the earl of Oxford,--in which he refused to make the concessions required by the queen, reminding her at the same time that it had been her father's policy, and ought to be hers, rather to countenance the gentry against the arrogance of the great n.o.bles than the contrary,--sent him in disgust from court. Retiring to Wilton, the seat of his brother-in-law the earl of Pembroke, he composed the Arcadia. This work he never revised or completed; it was published after his death, probably contrary to his orders; and it is of a kind long since obsolete. Under all these disadvantages, however, though faulty in plan and as a whole tedious, this romance has been found to exhibit extensive learning, a poetical cast of imagination, nice discrimination of character, and, what is far more, a fervor of eloquence in the cause of virtue, a heroism of sentiment and purity of thought, which stamp it for the offspring of a n.o.ble mind,--which evince that the workman was superior to his work.

But the world re-absorbed him; and baffled at court he meditated, in correspondence with one of his favorite mottoes,--"_Aut viam inveniam aut faciam_,"--to join one of the almost piratical expeditions of Drake against the Spanish settlements. Perhaps he might then be diverted from his design by the strong and kind warning of his true friend Languet, "to beware lest the thirst of lucre should creep into a mind which had hitherto admitted nothing but the love of truth and an anxiety to deserve well of all men." After the death of this monitor, however, he engaged in a second scheme of this very questionable nature, and was only prevented from embarking by the arrival of the queen's peremptory orders for his return to court and that of Fulke Greville who accompanied him.

It would certainly be difficult to defend in point of dignity and consistency his conspicuous appearance, as formerly recorded, at the triumph held in honor of the French emba.s.sy, or his attendance upon the duke of Anjou on his return to the Netherlands.

The story of his nomination to the throne of Poland deserves little regard; it is certain that such an elevation was never within his possibilities of attainment. His reputation on the continent was however extremely high; Don John of Austria himself esteemed him; the great prince of Orange corresponded with him as a real friend; and Du Plessis Mornay solicited his good offices on behalf of the French protestants.

Nothing but the highest praise is due to his conduct in Holland; to the valor of a knight-errant he added the best virtues of a commander and counsellor. Leicester himself apprehended that it would be scarcely possible for him to sustain his high post without the countenance and a.s.sistance of his beloved nephew; and the event showed that he was right.

His death was worthy of the best parts of his life; he showed himself to the last devout, courageous, and serene. His wife, the beautiful daughter of Walsingham; his brother Robert, to whom he had performed the part rather of an anxious and indulgent parent than of a brother; and many sorrowing friends, surrounded his bed. Their grief was beyond a doubt sincere and poignant, as well as that of the many persons of letters and of worth who gloried in his friendship and flourished by his bountiful patronage.

On the whole, though justice claims the admission that the character of Sidney was not entirely free from the faults most incident to his age and station, and that neither as a writer, a scholar, a soldier, or a statesman,--in all which characters during the course of his short life he appeared, and appeared with distinction,--is he yet ent.i.tled to the highest rank; it may however be firmly maintained that, as a _man_, an accomplished and high-souled man, he had among his contemporary countrymen neither equal nor compet.i.tor. Such was the verdict in his own times not of flatterers only, or friends, but of England, of Europe; such is the t.i.tle of merit under which the historian may enroll him, with confidence and with complacency, among the ill.u.s.trious few whose name and example still serve to kindle in the bosom of youth the animating glow of virtuous emulation.

Leicester never appears in an amiable light except in connexion with his nephew, for whom his affection was not only sincere but ardent. A few extracts from a letter written by him to sir Thomas Heneage, captain of the queen's guards, giving an account of the action in which Sidney received his mortal wound, will ill.u.s.trate this remark, while it records the gallant exploits of several of his companions in arms.

After relating that sir Philip had gone out with a party to intercept a convoy of the enemy's, he adds, "Many of our horses were hurt and killed, among which was my nephew's own. He went and changed to another, and would needs to the charge again, and once pa.s.sed those musqueteers, where he received a sore wound upon his thigh, three fingers above his knee, the bone broken quite in pieces; but for which chance, G.o.d did send such a day as I think was never many years seen, so few against so many." The earl then enumerates the other commanders and distinguished persons engaged in the action. Colonel Norris, the earl of Ess.e.x, sir Thomas Perrot; "and my unfortunate Philip, with sir William Russell, and divers gentlemen; and not one hurt but only my nephew. They killed four of their enemy's chief leaders, and carried the valiant count Hannibal Gonzaga away with them upon a horse; also took captain George Cressier, the princ.i.p.al soldier of the camp, and captain of all the Albanese. My lord Willoughby overthrew him at the first encounter, man and horse. The gentleman did acknowledge it himself. There is not a properer gentleman in the world towards than this lord Willoughby is; but I can hardly praise one more than another, they all did so well; yet every one had his horse killed or hurt. And it was thought very strange that sir William Stanley with three hundred of his men should pa.s.s, in spite of so many musquets, such troops of horse three several times, making them remove their ground, and to return with no more loss than he did.

Albeit, I must say it, it was too much loss for me; for this young man, he was my greatest comfort, next her majesty, of all the world; and if I could buy his life with all I have, to my shirt I would give it. How G.o.d will dispose of him I know not, but fear I must needs, greatly, the worst; the blow in so dangerous a place and so great; yet did I never hear of any man that did abide the dressing and setting of his bones better than he did; and he was carried afterwards in my barge to Arnheim, and I hear this day, he is still of good heart, and comforteth all about him as much as may be. G.o.d of his mercy grant me his life!

which I cannot but doubt of greatly. I was abroad that time in the field giving some order to supply that business, which did endure almost two hours in continual fight; and meeting Philip coming upon his horseback, not a little to my grief. But I would you had stood by to hear his most loyal speeches to her majesty; his constant mind to the cause; his loving care over me, and his most resolute determination for death, not one jot appalled for his blow; which is the most grievous I ever saw with such a bullet; riding so a long mile and a half upon his horse, ere he came to the camp; not ceasing to speak still of her majesty, being glad if his hurt and death might any way honor her majesty; for hers he was whilst he lived, and G.o.d's he was sure to be if he died. Prayed all men to think the cause was as well her majesty's as the country's; and not to be discouraged; for you have seen such success as may encourage us all; and this my hurt is the ordinance of G.o.d by the hap of the war. Well, I pray G.o.d, if it be his will, save me his life; even as well for her majesty's service sake, as for mine own comfort[95]."

[Note 95: "Sidney Papers."]

Sir Henry Sidney was spared the anguish of following such a son to the grave, having himself quitted the scene a few months before. It was in 1578 that he received orders to resign the government of Ireland, having become obnoxious to the gentlemen of the English pale by his rigor in levying certain a.s.sessments for the maintenance of troops and the expenses of his own household, which they affirmed to be illegally imposed. There is every reason to believe that their complaint was well founded; but Elizabeth, refusing as usual to allow her prerogative to be touched, imprisoned several Irish lawyers, who came to England to appeal against the tax; and sir Henry, being able to prove that he had royal warrant for what he had done, was finally exonerated by the privy-council from all the charges which had been preferred against him, and retained to the last his office of lord-president of Wales.

The sound judgement of sir Henry Sidney taught him, that his near connexion with the earl of Leicester had its dangers as well as its advantages; and observing the turn for show and expense with which it served to inspire the younger members of his family, he would frequently enjoin them "to consider more whose sons than whose nephews they were."

In fact, he was not able to lay up fortunes for them;--the offices he held were higher in dignity than emolument; his spirit was n.o.ble and munificent; and the following, among other anecdotes, may serve to show that he himself was not averse to a certain degree of parade; at least on particular occasions. The queen, standing once at a window of her palace at Hampton-court, saw a gentleman approach escorted by two hundred attendants on horseback; and turning to her courtiers, she asked with some surprise, who this might be? But on being informed that it was sir Henry Sidney, her lord deputy of Ireland and president of Wales, she answered, "And he may well do it, for he has two of the best offices in my kingdom."

The following letter, addressed to sir Henry as lord-president of Wales, discloses an additional trait of his character, which cannot fail to recommend him still more to the esteem of a humane and enlightened age;--his reluctance, namely, to lend his concurrence to the measures of religious persecution which the queen and her bishops now urged upon all persons in authority as their inc.u.mbent duty.

_Sir Francis Walsingham to sir H. Sidney lord president of Wales_.

"My very good lord;

"My lords of late calling here to remembrance the commission that was more than a year ago given out to your lordship and certain others for the reformation of the recusants and obstinate persons in religion, within Wales and the marches thereof, marvelled very much that in all this time they have heard of nothing done by you and the rest; and truly, my lord, the necessity of this time requiring so greatly to have these kind of men diligently and sharply proceeded against, there will here a very hard construction be made, I fear me, of you, to retain with you the said commission so long, doing no good therein. Of late now I received your lordship's letter touching such persons as you think meet to have the custody and oversight of Montgomery Castle, by which it appeareth you have begun, in your present journeys in Wales, to do somewhat in causes of religion; but having a special commission for that purpose, in which are named special and very apt persons to join with you in those matters, it will be thought strange to my lords to hear of your proceeding in those causes without their a.s.sistance; and therefore, to the end their lordships should conceive no otherwise than well of your dealing without them, I have forborne to acquaint them with our late letter, wishing your lordship, for the better handling and success of those matters in religion, you called unto you the bishop of Worcester, Mr. Philips, and certain others specially named in the commission. They will, I am sure, be glad to wait on you in so good a service, and your proceeding together with them in these matters will be better allowed of here, &c.

"P.S. Your lordship had need to walk warily, for your doings are narrowly observed, and her majesty is apt to give ear to any that shall ill you. Great hold is taken by your enemies for neglecting the execution of this commission.

"Oatlands, August 9th 1580[96]."

[Note 96: "Sidney Papers," vol. i. p. 276.]

Leicester, soon after the death of his nephew, placed his army in winter-quarters, having effected no one object of importance. The States remonstrated with him in strong terms on the various and grievous abuses of his administration; he answered them in the tone of graciousness and conciliation which it suited his purpose to a.s.sume; and publicly surrendering up to them the whole apparent authority of the provinces, whilst by a secret act of restriction he in fact retained for himself full command over all the governors of towns and provinces, he set sail for England.

Elizabeth received her favorite with her usual complacency, either because his abject submissions had in reality succeeded in banishing from her mind all resentment of his conduct in Holland, or because she required the support of his long-tried counsels under the awful responsibilities of that impending conflict with the whole collected force of the Spanish monarchy for which she felt herself summoned to prepare. The king of Denmark, astonished to behold a princess of Elizabeth's experienced caution involving herself with seeming indifference in peril so great and so apparent, exclaimed, that she had now taken the diadem from her brow to place it on the doubtful cast of war; and trembling for the fate of his friend and ally, he dispatched an amba.s.sador in haste to offer her his mediation for the adjustment of all differences arising out of the revolt of the Netherlands. But Elizabeth firmly, though with thanks, declined all overtures towards a reconciliation with a sovereign whom she now recognised as her implacable and determined foe.

She was far, however, from despising the danger which she braved; and with a prudence and diligence equal to her fort.i.tude, she had begun to a.s.semble and put in action all her means, internal and external, of defence and annoyance. She linked herself still more closely, by benefits and promises, with the prince of Conde, chief of the Hugonots now in arms against the League, or Catholic a.s.sociation, formed in France under the auspices of the king of Spain. With the king of Scots also she entered into an intimate alliance; and she had previously secured the friendship of all the protestant princes of Germany and the northern powers of Europe. She now openly avowed the enterprises of Drake, which she had hitherto only encouraged underhand, or on certain pretexts of retaliation; and she sent him with a fleet of twenty-one ships, carrying above eleven thousand soldiers, to make war upon the Spanish settlements in the West Indies.

But if all these measures seemed likely to afford her kingdom sufficient means of protection against the attacks of a foreign enemy, it was difficult for her to regard her own person as equally well secured against the dark conspiracies of her catholic subjects, instigated as they were by the sanguinary maxims of the Romish see, fostered by the atrocious activity of the emissaries of Philip, and sanctioned by the authority of the queen of Scots, to whom homage was rendered by her party as rightful sovereign of the British isles.

During the festival of Easter 1586, some English priests of the seminary at Rheims had encouraged a fanatical soldier named Savage to vow the death of the queen. About the same time Ballard, also a priest of this seminary, was concerting in France, with Mendoca and the fugitive lord Paget, the means of procuring an invasion of the country during the absence of its best troops in Flanders. Repairing to England, Ballard communicated both these schemes to Anthony Babington, a gentleman who had been gained over on a visit to France by the bishop of Glasgow, Mary's amba.s.sador there, and whose vehement attachment to her cause had rendered him capable of any enterprise, however criminal or desperate, for her deliverance. Babington entered into both plots with eagerness; but he suggested, that so essential a part of the action as the a.s.sa.s.sination of the queen ought not to be intrusted to one adventurer; and he lost no time in a.s.sociating five others in the vow of Savage, himself undertaking the part of setting free the captive Mary. With her he had previously been in correspondence, having frequently taken the charge of transmitting to her by secret channels her letters from France; and he immediately imparted to her this new design for her restoration to liberty and advancement to the English throne. There is full evidence that Mary approved it in all its parts; that in several successive letters she gave Babington counsels or directions relative to its execution; and that she promised to the perpetrators of the murder of Elizabeth every reward which it should hereafter be in her power to bestow.

All this time the vigilant eye of Walsingham was secretly fixed on the secure conspirators. He held a thread which vibrated to their every motion, and he was patiently awaiting the moment of their complete entanglement to spring forth and seize his victims.

To the queen, and to her only, he communicated the daily intelligence which he received from a spy who had introduced himself into all their secrets; and Elizabeth had the firmness to hasten nothing, though a picture was actually shown her, in which the six a.s.sa.s.sins had absurdly caused themselves to be represented with a motto underneath intimating their common design. These dreadful visages remained however so perfectly impressed on her memory, that she immediately recognised one of the conspirators who had approached very near her person as she was one day walking in her garden. She had the intrepidity to fix him with a look which daunted him; and afterwards, turning to her captain of the guards, she remarked that she was well guarded, not having a single armed man at the time about her.

At length Walsingham judged it time to interpose and rescue his sovereign from her perilous situation. Ballard was first seized, and soon after Babington and his a.s.sociates. All, overcome by terror or allured by vain hopes, severally and voluntarily confessed their guilt and accused their accomplices. The nation was justly exasperated against the partakers in a plot which comprised foreign invasion, domestic insurrection, the a.s.sa.s.sination of a beloved sovereign, the elevation to the throne of her feared and hated rival, and the restoration of popery.

The traitors suffered, notwithstanding the interest which the extreme youth and good moral characters of most or all of them were formed to inspire, amid the execrations of the protestant spectators. But what was to be the fate of that "pretender to the crown," on whose behalf and with whose privity this foul conspiracy had been entered into, and who was by the late statute, pa.s.sed with a view to this very case, liable to condign punishment?

This was now the important question which awaited the decision of Elizabeth, and divided the judgements of her most confidential counsellors. Some advised that the royal captive should be spared the ignominy of any public proceeding; but that her attendants should be removed, and her custody rendered so severe as to preclude all possibility of her renewing her pestilent intrigues. Leicester, in conformity with the baseness and atrocity of his character, is related to have suggested the employment of treachery against the life of a prisoner whom it appeared equally dangerous to spare or to punish; and to have sent a divine to convince Walsingham of the lawfulness of taking her off by poison. But that minister rejected the proposal with abhorrence, and concurred with the majority of the council in urging the queen to bring her without fear or scruple to an open trial. In favor of this measure Elizabeth at length decided, and steps were taken accordingly.

By means of well concerted precautions, Mary had been kept in total ignorance of the apprehension of the conspirators, till their confessions had been made and their fates decided:--a gentleman was then sent to her from the court to announce that all was discovered.

It was just as she had mounted her horse to take her usual exercise with her keepers, that this alarming message was delivered to her; and for obvious reasons she was compelled to proceed on her excursion, instead of returning, as she desired, to her chamber. Meantime all her papers were seized, sealed up, and conveyed to the queen. Amongst them were letters from a large proportion of the n.o.bility and other leading characters of the English court, filled with expressions of attachment to the person of the queen of Scots and sympathy in her misfortunes, not unmixed, in all probability, with severe reflections on the conduct of her rival and oppressor. All these Elizabeth perused, and no doubt stored up in her memory; but her good sense and prudence supplied on this occasion the place of magnanimity; and well knowing that the conscious fears of the writers would be ample security for their future conduct, she buried in lasting silence and apparent oblivion all the discoveries which had reached her through this channel.

The princ.i.p.al domestics of Mary were now apprehended, and committed to different keepers; and Nau and Curl her two secretaries were sent prisoners to London. She herself was immediately removed from Tutbury, and conveyed with a great attendance of the neighbouring gentry, and with pauses at several n.o.blemen's houses by the way, to the strong castle of Fotheringay in Northamptonshire. This part of the business was safely and prudently conducted by sir Amias Paulet; and he received for his encouragement and reward the following characteristic letter, subscribed by the hand of her majesty, and surely of her own inditing.

"To my faithful Amias.

"Amias, my most careful servant, G.o.d reward thee treble fold in the double for thy most troublesome charge so well discharged! If you knew, my Amias, how kindly, besides dutifully, my grateful heart accepteth your double labors and faithful actions, your wise orders and safe conduct performed in so dangerous and crafty a charge, it would ease your troubles and rejoice your heart. And (which I charge you to carry this most just thought) that I cannot balance in any weight of my judgement the value I prize you at: And suppose no treasure to countervail such a faith: And condemn myself in that fault which I have committed, if I reward not such deserts. Yea, let me lack when I have most need, if I acknowledge not such a merit with a reward '_non omnibus datum_.'

"But let your wicked mistress know, how with hearty sorrow her vile deserts compel those orders; and bid her from me ask G.o.d forgiveness for her treacherous dealing toward the saver of her life many years, to the intolerable peril of her own. And yet, not content with so many forgivenesses, must fall again so horribly, far pa.s.sing a woman, much more a princess. Instead of excusing thereof, not one can serve, it being so plainly confessed by the authors of my guiltless death.

"Let repentance take place; and let not the fiend possess so as her best part be lost. Which I pray, with hands lifted up to him that may both save and spill. With my loving adieu and prayer for thy long life,

"Your a.s.sured and loving sovereign in heart,

by good desert induced,

"ELIZ. R."

Soon, after the arrival of Mary at Fotheringay, Elizabeth, according to the provisions of the late act, issued out a commission to forty n.o.blemen and privy-councillors, empowering them to try and pa.s.s sentence upon Mary daughter and heir of king James V. and late queen of Scots; for it was thus that she was designated, with a view of intimating to her that she was no longer to be regarded as possessing the rights of a sovereign princess. Thirty-six of the commissioners repaired immediately to Fotheringay, where they arrived on October 9th 1586, and cited Mary to appear before them. This summons she refused to obey, on the double ground, that as an absolute princess she was free from all human jurisdiction, since kings only could be her peers; and that having been detained in England as a prisoner, she had not enjoyed the protection of the laws, and consequently ought not in equity to be regarded as amenable to their sentence. Weighty as these objections may appear, the commissioners refused to admit them, and declared that they would proceed to judge her by default. This menace she at first disregarded; but soon after, overcome by the artful representations of Hatton on the inferences which must inevitably be drawn from her refusal to justify herself for the satisfaction of a princess who had declared that she desired nothing so much as the establishment of her innocence, she changed her mind and consented to plead. None of her papers were restored, no counsel was a.s.signed her; and her request that her two secretaries, whose evidence was princic.i.p.ally relied on by the prosecutors, might be confronted with her, was denied. But all these were hardships customarily inflicted on prisoners accused of high treason and it does not appear that, with respect to its forms and modes of proceedings, Mary had cause to complain that her trial was other than a regular and legal one.

On her first appearance she renewed her protestation against the competence of the tribunal. Bromley lord-chancellor answered her, showing the jurisdiction of the English law over all persons within the country; and the commissioners ordered both the objection and the reply to be registered, as if to save the point of law; but it does not appear that it was ever referred for decision to any other authority.