[1601 A.D.] the prejudice of his right to the succession. James dared not hope for success in this negotiation. He knew that Essex had betrayed the secret connection between them, and he expected every bad office from the presumed hostility of Cecil. But Cecil was a thoroughbred politician, who measured his friendships and enmities by his personal interest. When Elizabeth was tottering on the brink of the grave, it was not for him to brave the resentment of her successor. How the reconciliation was effected is not precisely stated; but the result appears to have been an agreement that all past causes of offence should be forgiven, that the king should receive an addition of two thousand pounds to his annuity, and that Cecil, with the aid of the lord Henry Howard, should silently pave the way for his succession at the death of Elizabeth. The secretary, however, required silence as an indispensable condition. Should the secret transpire, should even a suspicion be provoked of any concert between him and the Scottish king, the jealousy of Elizabeth would pronounce Cecil a traitor and James a rival; and it should be remembered that the court contained many who through interested motives would gladly infuse such notions into the royal mind. This advice was approved and adopted. The correspondence which followed between the parties was carefully concealed from the knowledge of the queen and the courtiers, and generally passed through the hands of the lord Henry Howard in England, and of Mar and Bruce in Scotland. Cecil continued to act as if he had no eye to the succession of James; and James affected to speak of him as of one from whom he had no reason to expect any service. Essex, in his confession, had betrayed the project for his release from captivity, to which the lord Mountjoy had formerly given his assent. Though that nobleman had conducted the war in Ireland with a vigour and success which raised him to a high pre-eminence above all former deputies, he knew that he had reason to dread the resentment of the queen, and had made every preparation to seek, at the first summons, an asylum on the Continent. Cecil, however, convinced her that it stood not with her interests to irritate a favourite general at the head of a victorious army. Dissembling her knowledge of his guilt, she acquainted him, in a long and gracious letter, with the trial and execution of Essex; assured him that in her distress it afforded her consolation to think of his loyalty and attachment. PARLIAMENT AND THE MONOPOLIES Elizabeth now summoned a parliament to meet at Westminster. Unwilling that men should notice her increasing infirmities, she opened the session with more than usual parade, October 27th, 1601; but her enfeebled frame was unable to support the weight of the royal robes, and she was actually sinking to the ground when the nearest nobleman caught and supported her in his arms. The only object of the minister was to obtain a supply of money for the Irish war, and his wish was gratified by the unexampled vote of four subsidies, and eight tenths and fifteenths. But if the members were liberal in their grant to the crown, they were obstinate in demanding the redress of their grievances. The great subject of complaint, both within and without the walls of parliament, was the multitude of monopolies bestowed by the queen on her favourites. By a monopoly was understood a patent signed by her, and vesting in an individual, as a reward for his real or pretended services, the exclusive right of vending some particular commodity. This custom began in the seventeenth year of her reign, and grew in a short time into an [1601-1602 A.D.] intolerable abuse. If it supplied her with the means of satisfying importunate suitors without cost to herself, yet, to the public, each patent operated as a new tax on the consumer. Wine, vinegar, oil, salt, starch, tin, steel, coals, and numerous other commodities, among which were several of the first necessity, and therefore of universal consumption, had of late years been advanced to double the usual price; and the representatives of most counties and boroughs had been instructed by their constituents to demand the abolition of so oppressive a grievance. The motion was soon made: by the advisers of the crown it was met with the argument that the granting of monopolies was a branch of the prerogative; that whoever only touched the prerogative would incur the royal indignation; that to proceed by bill was useless and unwise, because, though the two houses might pretend "to tie the queen's hands by act of parliament, she still could loose them at her pleasure"; and that the speaker was blamable to admit such motions, contrary to the royal commandment given at the opening of the session. It was, however, replied, that the patentees were the bloodsuckers of the commonwealth; that the people could no longer bear such burdens; that the close of the last parliament had shown how little redress was to be expected from petition; and that the only sure remedy was to abolish all monopolies by statute. This perseverance of the commons shook the resolution of the minister, who was terrified by the execrations of the people as he hastened in his carriage through the streets; and subdued the obstinacy of the queen, who, though she annually became more attached to what she deemed the rights of the crown, yielded at length to his suggestions and entrea- HOUSE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD ties. The commons, happy to obtain redress without engaging in a contest with their sovereign, returned her thanks in language little short of blasphemy.d The only event of much importance in the remainder of the queen's reign was the reduction of Tyrone and the other Irish chiefs by the deputy Mountjoy (1602). The king of Spain had sent a body of six thousand men to their aid under Juan de Aguilar and Alfonso Ocampo, but these generals were obliged to capitulate to the lord-deputy at Kinsale and Baltimore.e The time so long dreaded by the queen had at length arrived when, to use her own expression, men would turn their backs on the setting, to worship the rising sun. It was in vain that she affected the vigour and gaiety of youth;1 At this time the queen had a new favourite, the young earl of Clanricarde. "He resembles much the late earl of Essex, and is growing to be a favourite." August 25th. "Flatterers say that he resembles Essex; the queen dissembles, and says that she cannot love him, inasmuch as he recalls her sorrow for that nobleman."-BEAUMONT. By mistake he is called Clancarty in Von Raumer.? [1602 A.D.] that in opposition to the unanimous advice of the council she persisted in making her annual progress; and that every other day she fatigued her decrepit frame with riding on horseback to view the labours of the chase and the other sports of the field. No art could conceal her age and infirmities from the knowledge of her subjects; the consequences of her approaching demise became the general topic of conversation at court, and every man who dared to give an opinion was careful to name as her successor the king of Scots. The question of the succession was as warmly agitated among the exiles abroad as among the courtiers and politicians at home. The reader is acquainted with the plan of the Spanish faction to place the Infanta on the English throne. As long as she was at liberty to marry either the king of Scots or an English nobleman, it was hoped that the nation might be induced to admit her claim; but from the moment of her union with the archduke Albert, the most sanguine of her partisans began to despond. But there could be no doubt that on the death of Elizabeth many competitors would appear; and that on such an occasion the Catholic monarchs, in union with the Catholic natives, might form a powerful party in favour of a Catholic claimant. Attempts had formerly been made to steal away the lady Arabella Stuart as a dangerous rival to the Infanta; she now became the favourite of the faction; it was proposed that she should marry the cardinal Farnese, who could trace his descent from John of Gaunt, and that all Catholics should be exhorted to support their united pretensions. When this visionary scheme was suggested to Clement VIII, he appeared to entertain it with pleasure, but was careful not to commit himself by any public avowal of his sentiments. ELIZABETH'S LAST ILLNESS Elizabeth had surprised the nations of Europe by the splendour of her course; she was destined to close the evening of her life in gloom and sorrow. The bodily infirmities which she suffered may have been the consequences of age; her mental afflictions are usually traced by historians to regret for the execution of Essex. That she occasionally bewailed his fate, that she accused herself of precipitation and cruelty, is not improbable; but there were disclosures in his confession to which her subsequent melancholy may with greater probability be ascribed. From that document she learned the unwelcome and distressing truth that she had lived too long; that her favourites looked with impatience to the moment which would free them from her control; and that the very men on whose loyalty she had hitherto reposed with confidence had already proved unfaithful to her. She became pensive and taciturn; she sat whole days by herself, indulging in the most gloomy reflections; every rumour agitated her with new and imaginary terrors; and the solitude of her court, the opposition of the commons to her prerogative, and the silence of the citizens when she appeared in public, were taken by her for proofs that she had survived her popularity, and was become an object of aversion to her subjects. Under these impressions, she assured the French ambassador that she had grown weary of her very existence. Sir John Harington, her godson, who visited the court about seven months after the death of Essex, has described in a private letter the state in which he found the queen. She was altered in her features and reduced to a skeleton. Her food was nothing but manchet bread and succory pottage. Her taste for dress was gone. She had not changed her clothes for many days. Nothing could please her; she was the torment of the ladies who waited on her person. |