make any conditions with such an offender,-a reluctance which she would have felt at any time of her life,—so the answer which he received at last represents the victory of good sense and policy over personal inclination, in which such struggles always ended. The exact date at which she received Tyrone's offer of submission, I have not been able to ascertain; but, as it had to go round by Galway,' it would reach her probably about the middle of January. On the 2nd of March Montjoy received a packet containing three letters: two from herself, dated respectively the 16th and 17th of February, and one from Cecil dated the 18th; the effect of which, taken all together, was this. As an inducement to Tyrone to come in, he might in the first instance promise him his life, and "such other conditions as should be honourable and reasonable for the Queen to grant him." If that were not enough, he might promise him his liberty likewise-liberty to "come and go safe, though in other things they did not agree." When he came, he might pass him a pardon upon certain specified conditions, of which it is enough to say here that they were similar in all the main points to those which had been required in March, 1597-8: for which see Vol. II. p. 97. Upon these conditions, if they could be got. If, however, he could not be brought to accept them all, then, " rather than send him back unpardoned to be a head still of rebellion," Montjoy was to use his discretion, and get such "other reasonable conditions" as he could.2 Whatever may have been the anxiety of her councillors, the event proved that the commission was both ample enough and speedy enough for the occasion. For Montjoy, following her own example, showed himself in no hurry, but waited for another petition from Tyrone; who as late as the 20th of March, which was nearly three weeks after the letters from England had arrived, wrote once more to remind him that he was still without answer, and to press urgently for an interview. By the time this petition reached him however (which was on the 23rd), he had heard that the Queen was dangerously ill and seeing the importance of getting the business concluded before the prospect of a new reign or a disputed succession should beget new hopes, he seized the occasion at once and changed. his pace. On the 24th he commissioned two gentlemen to confer with Tyrone, and sent out at the same time the necessary letters of protection on the 27th, received news that he had consented to come the next day, having just heard (privately and not officially) : 1 Goodman's History of his Own Times: edited by Brewer, ii. p. 54. 2 See the original letters, as printed by Brewer from the Tanner MSS.-Goodman, ii. pp. 41-53. They are not given by Moryson, though referred to more than once in Montjoy's letters, in terms which imply that they contained his final instructions in the matter. See Itinerary, part ii. book 3, ch. 2. that the Queen was dead, wrote to hasten him-keeping his intelligence in the mean time secret: on the 30th, gave him audience in a style as stately and imperial as Elizabeth herself could have desired: on the 31st, received his written submission upon the conditions prescribed; thereupon promised him in the Queen's name pardon, with restoration of title and (with some exception) of lands, etc.: on the 4th of April, brought him to Dublin: on the 5th, received official news of the Queen's death; and on the 6th caused him to make a new submission in the same form to the new King. So that the last act of Elizabeth's administration was as successful as any, and nothing lost by the delay. She died on the 24th of March, after an illness of about three weeks; and as her complaint did not take any acute form, or answer to any name more definite than "melancholy," the discoursers of the time busied themselves in inventing causes to account for it. Half a dozen possible or probable causes of mental mortification were easily assigned, out which those who think that the death of a woman in her seventieth year requires any extraordinary explanation may take their choice. But the fact is that she had removed from London to Richmond on the 21st of January in very foul and wet weather, which was suddenly followed by a very severe frost and if we suppose that she then caught a bad cold, which attacked some vital organ; and that, (like most people of strong minds in strong bodies, unused to illness,) she was at once impatient of the sensation of weakness, unwilling to have it seen, distrustful of remedies, intolerant of expostulation, and secretly apprehensive of the worst, we shall need no other explanation of all the incidents of her illness which rest upon good evidence. "No doubt" (says Chamberlain) "but you shall hear her Majesty's sickness and manner of death diversely related: for even here the Papists do tell strange stories, as utterly void of truth as of all civil honesty or humanity. I had good means to understand how the world went, and find her disease to be nothing but a settled and unremoveable melancholy, insomuch that she could not be won or persuaded neither by the counsel, divines, physicians, nor the women about her, once to taste or touch any physic; though ten or twelve physicians that were continually about her did assure her with all manner of asseverations of perfect and easy recovery if she would follow their advice. . . . Here was some whispering that her brain was somewhat distempered, but there was no such matter; only she held an obstinate silence for the most part, and because she had a persuasion that if she once lay down she should never rise, could not be gotten to bed in a whole 1 Chamberlain to Carleton, 27 Jan. 1602-3: p. 174. week till three days before her death: so that after three weeks' languishing, she departed the 24th of this present," etc.' "I dined with Dr. Parry in the Privy Chamber," writes Manningham in his diary, on the 23rd of March," and understood by him, the Bishop of Chichester, the Dean of Canterbury, the Dean of Windsor, etc., that her Majesty hath been by fits troubled with melancholy some three or four months, but for this fortnight extreme oppressed with it; insomuch that she refused to eat anything, to receive any physic, or admit any rest in bed, till within these two or three days. She hath been in a manner speechless for two days. Very pensive and silent since Shrovetide: sitting sometimes with her eye fixed on one object many hours together. Yet she always had her perfect senses and memory, and yesterday signified by the lifting up of her hands to heaven (a sign which Dr. Parry entreated of her) that she believed that faith which she hath caused to be professed, and looked faithfully to be saved by Christ's merits and mercy only, and no other means. She took great delight in hearing prayers, would often at the name of Jesus lift up her hands and eyes to Heaven: she would not hear the Archbishop speak of hope of her longer life, but when he prayed or spake of Heaven or those joys, she would hug his hand. It seems she might have lived if she would have used means; but she would not be persuaded, and princes must not be forced. Her physicians said she had a body of firm and perfect constitution likely to have lived many years."3 The next day he adds that about three o'clock in the morning she "departed this life mildly, like a lamb: easily like a ripe apple from the tree cum leni quadam febre, absque gemitu." The consciousness or apprehension that she was no longer mistress of her own powers is quite enough to account for the melancholy which oppressed her. It is easy to believe that, whatever her physicians might say, she felt her faculties failing, and did not choose to outlive them. 4. As a matter of policy, there was perhaps no part of Elizabeth's proceedings more questionable from first to last, in the judgment of her best councillors, than her refusal to let the question of succession be settled, or even discussed. Yet here again, if the event be accepted as judge, it is hard to say that she was wrong. Her own authority endured to the last without diminution, and her successor took her place at once, without contention or disturbance. 130 March, 1603. Dom. James I., vol. i. no. 6. 2 Shrove Tuesday fell on the 5th of March in 1602-3. : "The Proclamation," writes Manningham, on the night of the 24th, "was heard with great expectation and silent joy: no great shouting I think the sorrow for her Majesty's departure was so deep in many hearts that they could not so suddenly show any great joy; though it could not be less than exceeding great for the succession of so worthy a King. And at night they showed it by bonfires and ringing. No tumult; no contradiction; no disorders in the city every man went about his business as readily, as peaceably, as securely, as though there had been no change, nor any news ever heard of competitors." Nor did this outward calm in any respect belie the fact. And yet to statesmen the crisis was not the less an anxious one, for public as well as private reasons. The danger of a competition for the Crown was indeed past; and the sensation is described by Bacon as like that of waking from a fearful dream.2 But the very absence of competition implied the existence of expectations or hopes in different parties, whose interests being opposite their hopes could not all be fulfilled. No policy could prevent the growth of discontents, but whether they should grow to be dangerous would depend upon the position which the new King took up among the contending parties and conflicting interests. With such questions Bacon was familiar, and he could not but feel that he had matter in him which would be of service. His professional ambition had always aspired to employment in the business of the state, and his chances of personal success in life and of recovery from the embarrassments with which he had been so long struggling, and from which he was not yet free, lay all in that direction. On all accounts, therefore, it was a prime object with him to obtain the favourable regard of the new King; and he lost no time in using such opportunities as he had. The most important person in England was his cousin Sir Robert Cecil; and next to him perhaps (at that time) the Earl of Northumberland, who had been engaged for some years, together with Cecil and Lord Henry Howard, in a secret and confidential correspondence with James; and had within the last few days been invited by the Council to assist them :3 and who, being besides a man of letters and learning, was qualified to appreciate Bacon's value and sympathize with his tastes in that department also. He was acquainted likewise, more or less, with several persons about the Scotch Court, who had been in correspondence with his brother in the service of the Earl of Essex, and were likely Harl. MSS. 5353, fo. 111. 2 Beginning of a History of Great Britain-Works, VI. 277. on that account to be regarded with favour. To all these, knowing that a man may be forgotten merely for want of a reminder, he now addressed himself, - directly or indirectly, as seemed most becoming or most discreet in each case,-in what style and taste the following letters (all belonging to this occasion, and written nearly at the same time, though the precise order cannot be determined) will sufficiently show. As his best chance with Cecil,-whose professions of friendship, though outwardly very frank and affectionate, did not necessarily represent any great zeal for his advancement,--he resorted to his constant friend Hickes; who had been secretary to Burghley, and seems now to have been serving his son in the same capacity, and to have been a great favourite with him.1 Mr. Hickes, TO MR. MICHAEL HICKS.2 The apprehension of this threatened judgment of God, percutiam pastorem et dispergentur oves gregis, if it work in other as it worketh in me, knitteth every man's heart more unto his true and approved friend. Which is the cause why I now write to you, signifying that I would be glad of the comfort of your society and familiar conference as occasion serveth. And withal, though we card-holders have nothing to do but to keep close our cards and to do as we are bidden, yet as I ever used your mean to cherish the truth of my inclination towards Mr. Secretary, so now again I pray as you find time let him know that he is the personage in this state which I love most: which containeth all that I can do, and expresseth all which I will say at this time. And this as you may easily judge proceedeth not out of any straits of my occasions, as mought be thought in times past, but merely out of the largeness and fullness of my affections. And so for this time I commend me to you, from my chamber at Gray's Inn this 19th of March, 1602. Your assured friend, FR. BACON. To the Earl of Northumberland he addressed himself directly, and apparently about the same time. The letter (which had previously 1 See Lansd. MSS. 88, passim. 2 Lansd. MSS. 88, p. 107. Original: own hand. Addressed "To my very good frend, Mr. Mich. Hicks, at his howse in the Strond." |