"Full little knowest thou that hast not triedWhat hell it is in suing long to bide;To lose good days that might be better spent;To waste long nights in pensive discontent;To speed today, to be put back tomorrow;To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow;To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers;To have thy asking, yet wait many years;To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares;To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs;To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run;To spend, to give, to want, to be undone."Mother Hubbard's Tale.
One of the most laudable objects of the parsimony exercised by Elizabeth at this period was that of enabling herself to afford effectual aid to Henry IV. of France, now struggling, with adverse fortune but invincible resolution, to conquer from the united armies of Spain and the League the throne which was his birthright. In the depth of his distress, just when his Swiss and German auxiliaries were on the point of disbanding themselves for want of pay, the friendship of Elizabeth came in aid of his necessities with a supply of twenty-two thousand pounds; a sum, trifling as it may seem in modern estimation, which sufficedto rescue Henry from his immediate embarrassment, and which he frankly avowed to be the largest he had ever seen. The generosity of his ally did not stop here; for she speedily equipped a body of four thousand men and sent them to join him at Dieppe under command of the gallant lord Willoughby. By this reinforcement Henry was enabled to march to Paris and possess himself of its suburbs, and subsequently to engage in several other enterprises, in which he gratefully acknowledged the eminent service rendered him by the valor and fidelity of this band of English.
The next year Elizabeth, alarmed at seeing several of the ports of Bretagne opposite to her own shores garrisoned by Spanish troops, whom the Leaguers had called in to their assistance, readily entered into a new treaty with Henry, by virtue of which she sent a fresh supply of three thousand men to assist him in the recovery of this province. Her expenses however were to be repaid by the king after the expulsion of the enemy.
Sir John Norris, the appointed leader of this force, ranked among the most eminent of Elizabeth's captains; and was also possessed of some hereditary claims to her regard, which she did not fail to acknowledge as far as the jealousy of her favorites would give her leave. One of sir John's grandfathers was that Norris who suffered in the cause of Anne Boleyn; the other was lord Williams of Tame, to whom she had herself been indebted for so much respectful attention in the days of her greatest adversity. She had called up his father to the house of peers, as lord Norris ofRicot; and his mother she constantly addressed by a singular term of endearment, "My own Crow." This pair had six sons, of whom sir John was the eldest;—all, it is said, brave men, addicted to arms, and much respected by her majesty. But an unfortunate quarrel with the four sons of sir Francis Knolles, their Oxfordshire neighbour, arising out of a tournament in which the two brotherhoods were opposed to each other, procured to the Norrises the lasting enmity of this family, which, strong both by its relationship to the queen and its close alliance with Leicester, was able to impede their advancement to stations equal to their merits.
Sir John Norris learned the rudiments of military science under the celebrated admiral Coligni, to whom in his early youth he acted as a page; and he enlarged his experience as captain of the English volunteers who in 1578 generously carried the assistance of their swords to the oppressed Netherlanders when they had rushed to arms in the sacred cause of liberty and conscience. This gallant band particularly signalized its valor in the repulse of an assault made by don John of Austria upon the Dutch camp; a hot action in which Norris had three horses shot under him. In 1588 he was a distinguished member of the council of war. The expedition to Portugal in which he commanded has been already related, and its ill-success was certainly imputable to no want of courage or conduct on his part. In the war of Bretagne he gained high praise by a skilful retreat, in which he drew off his small band of English safe and entire amid a hostof foes. We shall afterwards hear of him in a high command in Ireland.
Military glory was the darling object of the ambition of Essex; and jealous perhaps of the fame which sir John Norris was acquiring in the French wars, he prevailed upon the queen to grant him the command of a fresh body of troops destined to assist Henry in expelling the Leaguers from Normandy. The new general was deeply mortified at being obliged to remain for some time inactive at Dieppe, while the French king was carrying his arms into another quarter, whither Essex was restrained by the positive commands of his sovereign from following him. At length they formed in concert the siege of Rouen; but when the town was nearly reduced to extremity, an unexpected march of the duke of Parma compelled Henry to desert the enterprise. Elizabeth made it a subject of complaint against her ally, that the English soldiers were always thrust foremost on every occasion of danger; but by themselves this perilous preeminence was claimed as a privilege due to the brilliancy of their valor; and their leader, delighted with the spirit which they displayed, encouraged and rewarded it by distributing among his officers, with a profusion which highly offended his sovereign, the honor of knighthood, bestowed by herself with so much selection and reserve. Essex supported his character for personal courage, and indulged his impetuous temper, by sending an idle challenge to the governor of Rouen, who seems to have known his duty too well to accept it; but his sanguine anticipations of some distinguished successwere baffled by a want of correspondence between the plans of Henry and the commands of Elizabeth; perhaps also in some degree by his own deficiency in the skill of a general. He had the further grief to lose by a musket-shot his only brother Walter Devereux, a young man of great hopes to whom he was fondly attached; and leaving his men before Rouen, under the conduct of sir Roger Williams, a brave soldier, he returned with little glory in the beginning of 1592 to soothe the displeasure of the queen and combat the malicious suggestions of his enemies. In this bloodless warfare better success awaited him. His partial mistress received with favor his excuses; and not only restored him to her wonted grace, but soon after testified her opinion of his abilities by granting him admission into the privy-council.
The royal progress of this year in Sussex and Hampshire affords some circumstances worthy of mention. Viscount Montacute, (now written Montagu,) a nobleman in much esteem with Elizabeth, though a zealous catholic, solicited the honor of entertaining her at his seat of Coudray near Midhurst; a mansion splendid enough to attract the curiosity and admiration of a royal visitant. The manor of Midhurst, in which Coudray is situated, had belonged during several ages to a branch of the potent family of Bohun; thence it passed into possession of the Nevils, a race second to none in England in the antiquity of its nobility and the splendor of its alliances. It thus became a part of the vast inheritance of Margaret countess of Salisbury, daughter of George duke ofClarence. Coudray-house was the principal residence of this illustrious and injured lady, and it was here that the discovery took place of those papal bulls and emblematical banners which afforded a pretext to malice and rapacity to arm themselves against the miserable remnant of her days.
By the attainder of the countess, this with the rest of her estates became forfeited to the crown; but the tyrant Henry was prevailed upon to regrant it, in exchange for other lands, to the heirs of her great-uncle John Nevil marquis Montagu. From an heir female of this branch viscount Montagu, son of sir Anthony Brown master of the horse to Henry VIII., derived it and his title, conferred by queen Mary. But to the ancient mansion there had previously been substituted by his half-brother the earl of Southampton, a costly structure decorated internally with that profusion of homely art which displayed the wealth and satisfied the taste of a courtier of Henry VIII. The building was as usual quadrangular, with a great gate flanked by two towers in the centre of the principal front. At the upper end of the hall stood a buck, as large as life, carved in brown wood, bearing on his shoulder the shield of England and under it that of Brown with, many quarterings: ten other bucks, in various attitudes and of the size of life, were planted at intervals. There was a parlour more elegantly adorned with the works of Holbein and his scholars;—a chapel richly furnished;—a long gallery painted with the twelve apostles;—and a corresponding one hung with family pictures and with various old paintingson subjects religious and military, brought from Battle Abbey, the spoils of which had been assigned to sir Anthony Brown as that share of the general plunder of the monasteries to which his long and faithful service had entitled him from the bounty of his master.
Amongst other particulars of the visit of her majesty at Coudray, we are told that on the morning after her arrival she rode in the park, where "a delicate bower" was prepared, and a nymph with a sweet song delivered her a cross-bow to shoot at the deer, of which she killed three or four and the countess of Kildare one:—it may be added, that this was a kind of amusement not unfrequently shared by the ladies of that age; an additional trait of the barbarity of manners.
Viscount Montagu died two years after this visit, and, to complete his story, lies buried in Midhurst church under a splendid monument of many-colored marbles, on which may still be seen a figure representing him kneeling before an altar, in fine gilt armour, with a cloak and "beard of formal cut." Beneath are placed recumbent effigies of his two wives dressed in rich cloaks and ruffs, with chained unicorns at their feet, and the whole is surrounded with sculptured scutcheons laboriously executed with innumerable quarterings.
At Elvetham in Hampshire the queen was sumptuously entertained during a visit of four days by the earl of Hertford. This nobleman was reputed to be master of more ready money than any other personin the kingdom; and though the cruel imprisonment of nine years, by which Elizabeth had doomed him to expiate the offence of a clandestine union with the blood-royal, could scarcely have been obliterated from his indignant memory, certain considerations respecting the interests of his children might probably render him not unwilling to gratify her by a splendid act of homage, though peculiar circumstances increased beyond measure the expense and inconvenience of her present visit. Elvetham, which was little more than a hunting-seat, was far from possessing sufficient accommodation for the court, and the earl was obliged to supply its deficiencies by very extensive erections of timber, fitted up and furnished with all the elegance that circumstances would permit. He likewise found it necessary to cause a large pond to be dug, in which were formed three islands, artificially constructed in the likeness of a fort, a ship, and a mount, for the exhibition of fireworks and other splendid pageantries. The water was made to swarm with swimming and wading sea-gods, who blew trumpets instead of shells, and recited verses in praise of her majesty: finally, a tremendous battle was enacted between the Tritons of the pond and certain sylvan deities of the park, which was long and valiantly disputed, with darts on one side and large squirts on the other, and suddenly terminated, to the delight of all beholders, by the seizure and submersion of old Sylvanus himself.
Elizabeth quitted Elvetham so highly gratified by the attentions of the noble owner, that she made him a voluntary promise of her special favor and protection;but we shall find hereafter, that her long-enduring displeasure against him relative to his first marriage was not yet so entirely laid aside but that a slight pretext was sufficient to bring it once more into malignant activity.
Early in the same summer the queen had also paid a visit to lord Burleigh at his favorite seat in Hertfordshire, of which sir Thomas Wylks thus speaks in a letter to sir Robert Sidney:
"I suppose you have heard of her majesty's great entertainment at Theobalds', of her knighting Mr. Robert Cecil, and of the expectation of his advancement to the secretaryship; but so it is as we say in court, that the knighthood must serve for both[106]."
Sir Christopher Hatton died in the latter end of the year 1591. It appears that he had been languishing for a considerable time under a mortal disease; yet the vulgar appetite for the wonderful and the tragical occasioned it to be reported that he died of a broken heart, in consequence of her majesty's having demanded of him, with a rigor which he had not anticipated, the payment of certain moneys received by him for tenths and first fruits: it was added, that struck with compunction on learning to what extremity her severity had reduced him, her majesty had paid him several visits, and endeavoured by her gracious and soothing speeches to revive his failing spirits;—but that the blow was struck, and her repentance came too late. It is indeed certain that the queenmanifested great interest in the fate of her chancellor, and paid him during his last illness very extraordinary personal attentions:—but it ought to be mentioned, in refutation of the former part of the story, that she remitted to his nephew and heir, who was married to a grand-daughter of Burleigh's, all her claims on the property which he left behind him.
During his lifetime, also, Hatton seems to have tasted more largely than most of his competitors of the solid fruits of royal favor. Elizabeth persevered in the practice originating in the reigns of her father and brother, of endowing her courtiers out of the spoils of the church. Sometimes, to the public scandal, she would keep a bishopric many years vacant for the sake of appropriating its whole revenues to secular uses and persons; and still more frequently, the presentation to a see was given under the condition, express or implied, that certain manors should be detached from its possessions, or beneficial leases of lands and tenements granted to particular persons. Thus the bishop of Ely was required to make a cession to sir Christopher Hatton of the garden and orchard of Ely-house near Holborn; on the refusal of the prelate to surrender property which he regarded himself as bound in honor and conscience to transmit unimpaired to his successors, Hatton instituted against him a chancery suit; and having at length succeeded in wresting from him the land, made it the site of a splendid house surrounded by gardens, which have been succeeded by the street still bearing his name. He had even sufficient interest with hermajesty to cause her to address to the bishop the following violent letter, several times, with some variations, reprinted.
"Proud prelate;
"I understand you are backward in complying with your agreement; but I would have you to 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."
Sir John Harrington, in his Brief View of the Church of England, accuses the lord-chancellor Hatton of coveting likewise a certain manor attached to the see of Bath and Wells, and of inflaming the queen's indignation against bishop Godwin on account of his second marriage, in order to frighten him into compliance; a manœuvre which in part succeeded, since the bishop was reduced, by way of compromise, to grant him a long lease of another manor somewhat inferior in value.
With all this, Hatton, as we have formerly observed, was distinguished as the patron of the established church against the puritans: but his zeal in its behalf, whether real or affected, was attended by a spirit of moderation then rare and always commendable. He disliked, and sometimes checked, the oppressions exercised against the papists by the rigid enforcement of recent statutes; and he is reported to have held the doctrine, at that time a novel one, that neither fire nor steel ought ever to be employed on a religious account.
The chancellor, besides his other merits and accomplishments, was a cultivator of the drama. In 1568 a tragedy was performed before her majesty, and afterwards published, entitled Tancred and Gismund, or Gismonde of Salerne, the joint performance of five students of the Temple, who appear each to have taken an act; the fourth bears the signature of Hatton. It is also probable that he gave the queen some assistance in similar pursuits, as her translation of a part of the tragedy of Hercules Œutæus, preserved in the Bodleian, is in his handwriting.
But it was never forgotten by others, nor apparently by himself, that he was brought into notice by his dancing; and we learn from a contemporary letter-writer, that even after he had attained the dignity of lord chancellor he laid aside his gown to dance at the wedding of his nephew. The circumstance is pleasantly alluded to by Gray in the description of Stoke-Pogeis house with which his "Long Story" opens.
"In Britain's isle, no matter where,An ancient pile of building stands;The Huntingdons and Hattons thereEmployed the power of fairy handsTo raise the ceiling's fretted height,Each pannel in achievements clothing,Rich windows that exclude the light,And passages that lead to nothing.Full oft within the spacious walls,When he had fifty winters o'er him,My grave lord keeper led the brawls,The seal and maces danced before him.His bushy beard and shoe-strings green,His high-crown'd hat and satin doublet,Moved the stout heart of England's queen,Though pope and Spaniard could not trouble it."
As chancellor of Oxford, Hatton was succeeded by lord Buckhurst, to the fresh mortification of Essex, who again advanced pretensions to this honorary office, and was a second time baffled by her majesty's open interference in behalf of his competitor.
The more important post of lord chancellor remained vacant for some months, the seals being put in commission; after which serjeant Pickering was appointed lord keeper,—a person of respectable character, who appears to have performed the duties of his office without taking any conspicuous part in the court factions, or exercising any marked influence over the general administration of affairs.
Towards one person of considerable note in his day, sir John Perrot, some time deputy of Ireland, Hatton is reported to have acted the part of an industrious and contriving enemy; being provoked by the taunts which sir John was continually throwing out against him as one who "had entered the court in a galliard," and further instigated by the complaints, well or ill founded, against the deputy, of some of his particular friends and adherents.
Sir John Perrot derived from a considerable family of that name seated at Haroldstone in Pembrokeshire, his name and large estates; but his features, his figure, his air, and common fame, gave him king Henry VIII. for a father. Nor was his resemblance to thisredoubted monarch merely external; his temper was haughty and violent, his behaviourblustering, his language always coarse, and, in the fits of rage to which he was subject, abusive to excess. Yet was he destitute neither of merit nor abilities. As president of Munster, he had rendered great services to her majesty in 1572 by his vigorous conduct against the rebels. As lord deputy of Ireland between the years 1584 and 1588, he had made efforts still more praiseworthy towards the pacification of that unhappy and ill-governed country, by checking as much as possible the oppressions of every kind exercised by the English of the pale against the miserable natives, towards whom his policy was liberal and benevolent. But his attempts at reformation armed against him, as usual, a host of foes, amongst whom was particularly distinguished Loftus archbishop of Dublin, whom he had exasperated by proposing to apply the revenues of St. Patrick's cathedral to the foundation of an university in the capital of Ireland. Forged letters were amongst the means to which the unprincipled malice of his adversaries resorted for his destruction. One of these atrocious fabrications, in which an Irish chieftain was made to complain of excessive injustice on the part of the deputy, was detected by the exertions of the supposed writer, whom Perrot had in reality attached to himself by many benefits; but a second letter, which contained a protection to a catholic priest and made him employ the wordsourcastle of Dublin,ourkingdom of Ireland, produced a fatally strong impression on the jealous mind of Elizabeth.
Meantime the ill-fated deputy, conscious of his own fidelity and essential loyalty, and unsuspicious of the snares spread around him, was often unguarded enough to give vent in gross and furious invective against the person of majesty itself, to the profound vexation which he, in common with all preceding and following governors of Ireland under Elizabeth, was destined to endure from the penury of her supplies and the magnitude of her requisitions. His words were all carried to the queen, mingled with such artful insinuations as served to impart to these unmeaning ebullitions of a hasty temper the air of deliberate contempt and meditated disloyalty towards his sovereign.
Just before the sailing of the armada, Perrot was recalled, partly indeed at his own request. A rigid or rather a malicious inquiry was then instituted into all the details of his actions, words and behaviour in Ireland, and he was committed to the friendly custody of lord Burleigh. Afterwards, the lords Hunsdon and Buckhurst, with two or three other councillors, were ordered to search and seize his papers in the house of the lord treasurer without the participation of this great minister, who was at once offended and alarmed at the step. Perrot was carried to the Tower, and at length, in April 1592, put upon his trial for high treason. The principal heads of accusation were;—his contemptuous words of the queen;—his secret encouragement of O'Rourk's rebellion and the Spanish invasion, and his favoring of traitors. Of all these charges except the first he seems to have proved hisinnocence, and on this he excused himself by the heat of his temper and the absence of all ill intention from his mind. He was however found guilty by a jury much more studious of the reputation of loyalty than careful of the rights of Englishmen.
On leaving the bar, he is reported to have exclaimed, "God's death! will the queen suffer her brother to be offered up as a sacrifice to the envy of my frisking adversaries!"
The queen felt the force of this appeal to the ties of blood. It was long before she could be brought to confirm his sentence, and she would never sign a warrant for its execution. Burleigh shed tears on hearing the verdict, saying with a sigh, that hatred was always the more inveterate the less it was deserved.
Elizabeth, when her first emotions of anger had passed away, was now frequently heard to praise that rescript of the emperor Theodosius in which it is thus written:—
"Should any one have spoken evil of the emperor, if through levity, it should be despised; if through insanity, pitied; if through malice, forgiven." She is likewise said, in language more familiar to her, to have sworn a great oath that they who accused Perrot were all knaves, and he an honest and faithful man. It was accordingly presumed that she entertained the design of extending to him the royal pardon; but her mercy, if such it merits to be called, was tardy; and in September 1592, six months after his condemnation, this victim of malice perished in the Tower, of disease, according to Camden; but, by other accounts, ofa broken heart. In either case the story is an affecting one, and worthy to be had in lasting remembrance, as a striking and terrible example of the potency of court-intrigue, and the guilty subserviency of judicial tribunals under the jealous rule of the last of the Tudors.
English literature, under the auspices of Elizabeth and her learned court, had been advancing with a steady and rapid progress; and it may be interesting to contemplate the state of one of its fairest provinces as exhibited by the pen of an able critic, who in the year 1589 gave to the world an Art of English Poesy. This work, though addressed to the queen, was published with a dedication by the printer to lord Burleigh; for the author thought proper to remain concealed: on its first appearance its merit caused it to be ascribed to Spenser by some, and by others to Sidney; but it was traced at length to Puttenham, one of her majesty's gentleman-pensioners, the author of some adulatory poems addressed to her and called Partheniads, and of various other pieces now lost.
The subject is here methodically treated in three books; the first, "Of Poets and Poesy;" the second, "Of Proportion;" the third, "Of Ornament." After some remarks on the origin of the art and its earliest professors, and an account of the various kinds of poems known to the ancients,—in which there is an absence of pedantry, of quaintness, and of every species of puerility, very rare among the didactic writers of the age,—the critic proceeds to an enumeration of our principal vernacular poets, or "vulgar makers,"as he is pleased to anglicize the words. Beginning with a just tribute to Chaucer, as the father of genuine English verse, he passes rapidly to the latter end of the reign of Henry VIII., when, as he observes, there "sprung up a new company of courtly makers, of whom sir Thomas Wyat the elder and Henry earl of Surry were the two chieftains; who having travelled into Italy, and there tasted the sweet and stately measures and style of the Italian poesy, as novices newly crept out of the schools of Dante, Arioste, and Petrarch, they greatly polished our rude and homely manner of vulgar poesy, from that it had been before, and for that cause may justly be said the first reformers of our English metre and style[107]."
After slight notice of the minor poets, who flourished under Edward VI. and Mary, he goes on to observe that "in her majesty's time that now is, are sprung up another crew of courtly makers, noblemen and gentlemen of her majesty's own servants, who have written excellently well, as it would appear if their doing could be found out and made public with the rest." And in a subsequent passage he thus awards to each of them his appropriate commendation. "Of the latter sort I think thus: That for tragedy the lord Buckhurst and master Edward Ferrys (Ferrers), for such doings as I have seen of theirs do deserve the highest price. The earl of Oxford and masterEdwards of her majesty's chapel for comedy and interlude. For eglogue and pastoral poesy, sir Philip Sidney and master Chaloner, and that other gentleman who wrate the late 'Shepherd's Calendar'[108]. For dirty and amorous ode I find sir Walter Raleigh's vein most lofty, insolent and passionate. Master Edward Dyer for elegy, most sweet, solemn and of high conceit. Gascoigne for a good metre and for a plentiful vein. Phaer and Golding for a learned and well corrected verse, specially in translation clear and very faithfully answering their author's intent. Others have also written with much facility, but more commendably perchance if they had not written so much nor so popularly[109]." The passage concludes with a piece of flattery to her majesty in her poetical capacity, unworthy of transcription.
Under the head of "Poetical proportion" or metre, our author writes learnedly of the measures of the ancients, and on those employed by our native poets with singular taste and judgement, except that the artist-like pride in difficulty overcome has inspired him with an unwarrantable fondness for verses arranged in eggs, roundels, lozenges, triquets, and other ingenious figures, of which he has given diagrams further illustrated by finished specimens of his own construction.
Great efforts had been made about this period by a literary party, of which Stainhurst the translator of Virgil, Sidney and Gabriel Hervey were the leaders,to introduce the Greek and Roman measures into English verse, and Puttenham has judged it necessary to compose a chapter thus intituled: "How, if all manner of sudden innovations were not very scandalous, specially in the laws of any language or art, the use of Greek and Latin feet might be brought into our vulgar poesy, and with good grace enough." But it is evident on the whole, that he bore no good will to this pedantic novelty.
In treating of "Ornament," our author enumerates, explains and exemplifies all the rhetorical figures of the Greeks; adding, for the benefit of courtiers and ladies, to whom his work is principally addressed, translations of their names; several of which would require to be retranslated for the benefit of the modern reader, as for example the three following, all figures of derision:—"The fleering frump;"—"The broad flout;"—"The privy nip." At the present day, however, the work of Puttenham is most of all to be valued for the remarks on language and on manners, and the contemporary anecdotes with which it abounds, and of which some examples may be quoted. After observing that "as it hath been always reputed a great fault to use figurative speeches foolishly and indiscreetly, so it is esteemed no less an imperfection in man's utterance, to have none use of figure at all, specially in our writing and speeches public, making them but as our ordinary talk, than which nothing can be more unsavory and far from all civility:—'I remember,' says he, 'in the first year of queen Mary's reign a knight of Yorkshire was chosen speakerof the parliament, a good gentleman and wise, in the affairs of his shire, and not unlearned in the laws of the realm; but as well for lack of some of his teeth as for want of language, nothing well spoken, which at that time and business was most behoveful for him to have been: this man, after he had made his oration to the queen; which ye know is of course to be done at the first assembly of both houses; a bencher of the Temple, both well learned and very eloquent, returning from the parliament house asked another gentleman his friend how he liked Mr. Speaker's oration; 'Mary,' quoth the other, 'methinks I heard not a better alehouse tale told this seven years.'... And though grave and wise councillors in their consultations do not use much superfluous eloquence, and also in their judicial hearings do much mislike all scholastical rhetorics: yet in such a case... if the lord chancellor of England or archbishop of Canterbury himself were to speak, he ought to do it cunningly and eloquently, which cannot be without the use of figures: and nevertheless none impeachment or blemish to the gravity of the persons or of the cause: wherein I report me to them that knew sir Nicholas Bacon lord keeper of the great seal, or the now lord treasurer of England, and have been conversant with their speeches made in the Parliament house and Star-chamber. From whose lips I have seen to proceed more grave and natural eloquence, than from all the orators of Oxford or Cambridge; but all is as it is handled, and maketh no matter whether the same eloquence be natural to them or artificial (though I rather think natural); yet were they known to be learnedand not unskilful of the art when they were younger men.... I have come to the lord keeper sir Nicholas Bacon, and found him sitting in his gallery alone with the works of Quintilian before him; indeed he was a most eloquent man, and of rare learning and wisdom as ever I knew England to breed; and one that joyed as much in learned men and men of good wits." He mentions being a by-stander when a doctor of civil law, "pleading in a litigious cause betwixt a man and his wife, before a great magistrate, who (as they can tell that knew him) was a man very well learned and grave, but somewhat sour and of no plausible utterance: the gentleman's chance was to say: 'My lord, the simple woman is not so much to blame as her leud abettors, who byviolentpersuasions have led her into this wilfulness.' Quoth the Judge; 'What need such eloquent terms in this place?' The gentleman replied, 'Doth your lordship mislike the term (violent)? and methinks I speak it to great purpose; for I am sure she would never have done it, but by force of persuasion.'" &c.
Pursuing the subject of language, which, he says, "in our maker or poet must be heedily looked unto that it be natural, pure, and the most usual of all his country," after some other rules or cautions he adds: "Our maker therefore at these days shall not follow Piers Plowman, nor Gower, nor Lydgate, nor yet Chaucer, for their language is now out of use with us: neither shall he take the terms of Northern men, such as they use in daily talk, whether they be noblemen or gentlemen or of their best clerks, all is a matter; nor in effect any speech used beyond the river ofTrent, though no man can deny but that theirs is the purer English Saxon at this day, yet it is not so courtly nor so current as our Southern English is; no more is the far Western man's speech: ye shall therefore take the usual speech of the court, and that of London and the shires lying about London within sixty miles and not much above. I say not this but in every shire of England there be gentlemen and others that speak, but specially write, as good Southern as we of Middlesex or Surry do; but not the common people of every shire, to whom the gentlemen and also their learned clerks do for the most part condescend; but herein we are ruled by the English dictionaries and other books written by learned men, and therefore it needeth none other direction in that behalf. Albeit peradventure some small admonition be not impertinent, for we find in our English writers many words and speeches amendable, and ye shall see in some many inkhorn terms so ill affected brought in by men of learning, as preachers and schoolmasters; and many strange terms of other languages by secretaries and merchants and travellers, and many dark words and not usual nor well sounding, though they be daily spoken in court. Wherefore great heed must be taken by our maker in this point that his choice be good." He modestly expresses his apprehensions that in some of these respects he may himself be accounted a transgressor, and he subjoins a list of the new, foreign or unusual words employed by him in this tract, with his reasons for their adoption. Of this number are;scientific,conduict, "a French word, butwell allowed of us, and long since usual; it sounds something more than this word (leading) for it is applied only to the leading of a captain, and not as a little boy should lead a blind man;"idiom, from the Greek;significative, "borrowed of the Latin and French, but to us brought in first by some noblemen's secretary, as I think, yet doth so well serve the turn as it could not now be spared; and many more like usurped Latin and French words; as,method,methodical,placation,function,assubtiling,refining,compendious,prolix,figurative,inveigle, a term borrowed of our common lawyers:impression, also a new term, but well expressing the matter, and more than our English word:"penetrate,penetrable,indignityin the sense of unworthiness, and a few more[110]. The whole enumeration is curious, and strikingly exhibits the state of language at this epoch, when the rapid advancement of letters and of all the arts of social life was creating a daily want of new terms, which writers in all classes and individuals in every walk of life regarded themselves as authorized to supply at their own discretion, in any manner and from any sources most accessible to them, whether pure or corrupt, ancient or modern. The pedants of the universities, and the travelled coxcombs of the court, had each a neological jargon of their own, unintelligible to each other and to the people at large; on the other hand, there were a few persons of grave professions and austere characters, who, like Cato the Censor during a similarperiod of accelerated progress in the Roman state, prided themselves on preserving in all its unsophisticated simplicity, or primitive rudeness, the tongue of their forefathers. The judicious Puttenham, uniting the accuracy of scholastic learning with the enlargement of mind acquired by long intercourse among foreign nations, and with the polish of a courtier, places himself between the contending parties, and with a manly disdain of every species of affectation, but especially that of rusticity and barbarism, avails himself, without scruple as without excess, of the copiousness of other languages to supply the remaining deficiencies of his own.
Several chapters of the book "of Ornament" are devoted to the discussion of the decent, or seemly, in words and actions, and prove the author to have been a nice observer of manners as well as a refined critic of style. He severely censures a certain translator of Virgil, who said "that Æneas was fain totrudgeout of Troy; which term better became to be spoken of a beggar, or of a rogue, or of a lackey:" and another who called the same hero "by fate afugitive;" and who inquires "What moved Juno totugso great a captain;" a word "the most indecent in this case that could have been devised, since it is derived from the cart, and signifies the draught or pull of the horses." The phrase "a prince'spelf" is reprobated, becausepelfmeans properly "the scraps or shreds of taylors and of skinners." He gives strict rules for the decorous behaviour of ambassadors and all who address themselves to princes, being himself a courtier, andhaving probably exercised some diplomatic function. "I have seen," says he, "foreign ambassadors in the queen's presence laugh so dissolutely at some rare pastime or sport that hath been made there, that nothing in the world could have worse becomen them." With respect to men in other stations of life he is pleased to say, it is decent for a priest "to be sober and sad;" "a judge to be incorrupted, solitary, and unacquainted with courtiers or courtly entertainments... without plait or wrinkle, sour in look and churlish in speech; contrariwise a courtly gentleman to be lofty and curious in countenance, yet sometimes a creeper and a curry favell with his superiors." "And in a prince it is decent to go slowly and to march with leisure, and with a certain grandity rather than gravity; as our sovereign lady and mistress, the very image of majesty and magnificence, is accustomed to do generally, unless it be when she walketh apace for her pleasure, or to catch her a heat in the cold mornings. Nevertheless it is not so decent in a meaner person, as I have discerned in some counterfeit ladies of the country, which use it much to their own derision. This comeliness was wanting in queen Mary,otherwise a very good and honorable princess. And was some blemish to the emperor Ferdinando, a most noble-minded man, yet so careless and forgetful of himself in that behalf, as I have seen him run up a pair of stairs so swift and nimble a pace, as almost had not become a very mean man, who had not gone in some hasty business."
Respecting the poets mentioned by Puttenhamwhose names have not already occurred in the present work, it may be observed, that excepting a few lines quoted by this critic, there is nothing remaining of sir Edward Dyer's, except, which is highly probable, he is to be reckoned among the anonymous contributors to the popular collections of that day. Of Gascoigne, on the contrary, enough is left to exhaust the patience of any modern reader. In his youth, neglecting the study of the law for poetry and pleasure, he poured forth an abundance of amatory pieces; some of them sonnets closely imitating the Italian ones in style as well as structure. Afterwards, during a five-years service in the war of Flanders, he found leisure for much serious thought; and discarding the levities of his early years, he composed by way of expiation a moral satire in blank verse called the Steel Glass, and several religious pieces. Notwithstanding however this newly assumed seriousness, he attended her majesty in her progress in the summer of 1575, and composed a large number of courtly verses as a contribution to "the princely pleasures of Kennelworth." Gascoigne died in October 1577. Of his minor poems the following may be cited as a pleasing specimen.
THE LULLABY OF A LOVER.Sing lullaby as women do,Wherewith they bring their babes to rest,And lullaby can I sing tooAs womanly as can the best.With lullaby they still the child;And if I be not much beguil'd,Full many wanton babes have I,Which must be still'd with lullaby.First lullaby my youthful years.It is now time to go to bed,For crooked age and hoary yearsHave won the haven within my head:With lullaby then youth be still,With lullaby content thy will,Since courage quails and comes behind,Go sleep and so beguile thy mind.Next lullaby my gazing eyes,Which wonted were to glaunce apace;For every glass may now sufficeTo shew the furrows in my face.With lullaby then wink awhile,With lullaby your looks beguile:Let no fair face or beauty brightEntice you eft with vain delight.And lullaby my wanton will,Let reason's rule now reign thy thought,Since all too late I find by skill,How dear I have thy fancies bought:With lullaby now take thine ease,With lullaby thy doubts appease;For trust to this, if thou be still,My body shall obey thy will.Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes,My will, my ware, and all that was,I can no mo delays devise,But welcome pain, let pleasure pass:With lullaby now take your leave,With lullaby your dreams deceive,And when you rise with waking eye,Remember then this lullaby.
Respecting another poet of greater popularity thanGascoigne, and of a more original turn of genius, Warner, the author of Albion's England, Puttenham has preserved a discreet silence; for his great work had been prohibited by the capricious tyranny, or rigid decorum, of archbishop Whitgift, and seizure made in 1586 of the copies surreptitiously printed. This long and singular poem is a kind of metrical chronicle, containing the remarkable events ofEnglishhistory from the flood,—the starting point of all chroniclers,—to the reign of queen Elizabeth. It is written in the common ballad measure, and in a style often creeping and prosaic, sometimes quaint and affected; but passages of beautiful simplicity and strokes of genuine pathos frequently occur to redeem its faults, and the tediousness of the historical narration is relieved by a large intermixture of interesting and entertaining episodes. The ballads of Queen Eleanor and fair Rosamond, Argentile and Curan, and the Patient Countess, selected by Dr. Percy in his Relics of Ancient Poetry, may be regarded by the poetical student of the present day as a sufficient specimen of the talents of Warner: but in his own time he was complimented as the Homer or Virgil of the age; the persevering reader travelled, not only with patience but delight, through his seventy-seven long chapters; and it is said that the work became popular enough, notwithstanding its prohibition by authority, to supersede in some degree its celebrated predecessor the Mirror for Magistrates.
FROM 1591 TO 1593.
Naval war against Spain.—Death of sir Richard Grenville—Notice of Cavendish.—Establishment of the East India company.—Results of voyages of discovery.—Transactions between Raleigh and the queen.—Anecdotes of Robert Cary—of the Holles family.—Progress of the drama.—Dramatic poets before Shakespeare.—Notice of Shakespeare.—Proclamation respecting bear-baiting and acting of plays.—Censorship of the drama.—Anecdote of the queen and Tarleton.
Themaritime war with Spain, notwithstanding the cautious temper of the queen, was strenuously waged during the year 1591, and produced some striking indications of the rising spirit of the English navy.
A squadron under lord Thomas Howard, which had been waiting six months at the Azores to intercept the homeward bound ships from Spanish America, was there surprised by a vastly more numerous fleet of the enemy which had been sent out for their convoy. The English admiral got to sea in all haste and made good his retreat, followed by his whole squadron excepting the Revenge, which was entangled in a narrow channel between the port and an island. Sir Richard Grenville her commander, after a vain attempt to break through the Spanish line, determined, with a kind of heroic desperation, to sustain alone the conflict witha whole fleet of fifty-seven sail, and to confront all extremities rather than strike his colors. From three o'clock in the afternoon till day-break he resisted, by almost incredible efforts of valor, all the force which could be brought to bear against him, and fifteen times beat back the boarding parties from his deck. At length, when all his bravest had fallen, and he himself was disabled by many wounds; his powder also being exhausted, his small-arms lost or broken, and his ship a perfect wreck, he proposed to his gallant crew to sink her, that no trophy might remain to the enemy. But this proposal, though applauded by several, was overruled by the majority: the Revenge struck to the Spaniards; and two days after, her brave commander died on board their admiral's ship of his glorious wounds, "with a joyful and quiet mind," as he expressed himself, and admired by his enemies themselves for his high spirit and invincible resolution. This was the first English ship of any considerable size captured by the Spaniards during the whole war, and it did them little good; for, besides that the vessel had been shattered to pieces, and sunk a few days after with two hundred Spanish sailors on board, the example of heroic self-devotion set by sir Richard Grenville long continued in the hour of battle to strike awe and terror to their hearts.
Thomas Cavendish, elated by the splendid success of that first expedition in which, with three slender barks of insignificant size carrying only one hundred and twenty-three persons of every degree, he had plundered the whole coast of New Spain and Peru, burnedPaita and Acapulco, and captured a Spanish admiral of seven hundred tons, besides many other vessels taken or burned;—then crossed the great South Sea, and circumnavigated the globe in the shortest time in which that exploit had yet been performed;—set sail again in August 1591 on a second voyage. But this time, when his far greater force and more adequate preparations of every kind seemed to promise results still more profitable and glorious, scarce any thing but disasters awaited him. He took indeed the town of Santos in Brazil, which was an acquisition of some importance; but delaying here too long, he arrived at a wrong season in the Straits of Magellan, and was compelled to endure the winter of that inhospitable clime; where seeing his numbers thinned by sickness and hardship, and his plans baffled by dissentions and insubordination, he found it necessary to abandon his original design of crossing the South Sea, and resolved to undertake the voyage to China by the Cape of Good Hope. First, however, he was fatally prevailed upon to return to the coast of Brazil, where he lost many men in rash attempts against various towns, which expecting his attacks were now armed for their defence, and a still greater number by desertion. Baffled in all his designs, worn out with fatigue, anxieties, and chagrin, this brave but unfortunate adventurer breathed his last far from England on the wide ocean, and so obscurely that even the date of his death is unknown.
At this period, a peculiar education was regarded as not more necessary to enable a gentleman to assume the direction of a naval expedition than the commandof a troop of horse; and it is probable that even by Cavendish, whose exploits we read with amazement, but a very slender stock of maritime experience was possessed when he first embarked on board the vessel in which he had undertaken to circumnavigate the globe. He was the third son of a Suffolk gentleman of large estate; came early to court; and having there consumed his patrimony in the fashionable magnificence of the time, suddenly discovered within himself sufficient courage to attempt the reparation of his broken fortunes by that favorite resource, the plunder of the Spanish settlements. On his return from his first voyage he sailed up the Thames in a kind of triumph, displaying a top-sail of cloth of gold, and making ostentation of the profit rather than the glory of the enterprise. He appears to have been equally deficient in the enlightened prudence which makes an essential feature of the great commander, and in that lofty disinterestedness of motive which constitutes the hero; but in the activity, the enterprise, the brilliant valor, which now form the spirit of the English navy, he had few equals and especially few predecessors; and amongst the founders of its glory the name of Cavendish is therefore worthy of a conspicuous and enduring place.
By the failure of the late attempt to seat don Antonio on the throne of Portugal, the sovereignty of Philip II. over that country and its dependencies had finally been established; and in consequence its trade and settlements in the East offered a fair and tempting prize to the ambition or cupidity of English adventurers.
The passage by the Cape of Good Hope, repeatedly accomplished by circumnavigators of this nation, had now ceased to oppose any formidable obstacle to the spirit of maritime enterprise; and the papal donation was a bulwark still less capable of preserving inviolate to the sovereigns of Portugal their own rich Indies. The first expedition ever fitted out from England for those eastern regions, where it now possesses an extent of territory in comparison of which itself is but a petty province, consisted of three "tall ships," which sailed in this year under the conduct of George Raymond and James Lancaster. After doubling the Cape and refreshing themselves in Saldanha Bay, which the Portuguese had named but not yet settled, the navigators steered along the eastern coast of Africa, where the ship commanded by Raymond was lost. With the other two, however, they proceeded still eastward; passed without impediment all the stations of the Portuguese on the shores of the Indian ocean, doubled Cape Comorin, and extended their voyage to the Nicobar isles, and even to the peninsula of Malacca. They landed in several parts, where they found means to open an advantageous traffic with the natives; and, after capturing many Portuguese vessels laden with various kinds of merchandise, repassed the Cape in perfect safety with all their booty. In their way home they visited the West Indies, where great disasters overtook them; for here their two remaining ships were lost, and Lancaster, with the slender remnant of their crews, was glad to obtain a passage to Europe on board a French ship which happily arrived to theirrelief. But as far as respected the eastern part of the expedition, their success had been such as strongly to invite the attempts of future adventurers; and nine years after its sailing, her majesty was prevailed upon to grant a charter of incorporation with ample privileges to an East India company, under whose auspices Lancaster consented to undertake a second voyage. Annual fleets were from this period fitted out by these enterprising traders, and factories of their establishment soon arose in Surat, in Masulipatam, in Bantam, in Siam, and even in Japan. The history of their progress makes no part of the subject of the present work; but the foundation of a mercantile company which has advanced itself to power and importance absolutely unparalleled in the annals of the world, forms a feature not to be overlooked in the glory of Elizabeth.
These long and hazardous voyages of discovery, of hostility, or of commerce, began henceforth to afford one of the most honorable occupations to those among the youthful nobility or gentry of the country, whose active spirits disdained the luxurious and servile idleness of the court: they also opened a welcome resource to younger sons, and younger brothers, impatient to emancipate themselves from the galling miseries of that necessitous dependence on the head of their house to which the customs of the age and country relentlessly condemned them.
Thus Shakespeare in his Two Gentlemen of Verona,
..."He wondered that your lordshipWould suffer him to spend his youth at home,While other men of slender reputationPut forth their sons to seek preferment out:Some to the wars to try their fortune there;Some to discover islands far away;Some to the studious universities.For any or for all these exercises,He said, that Protheus your son was meet:And did request me to importune youTo let him spend his time no more at home;Which would be great impeachment to his age,In having known no travel in his youth."
But the advancement of the fortunes of individuals was by no means the principal or most permanent good which accrued to the nation by these enterprises. The period was still indeed far distant, in which voyages of discovery were to be undertaken on scientific principles and with large views of general utility; but new animals, new vegetables, natural productions or manufactured articles before unknown to them, attracted the attention even of these first unskilful explorers. Specimens in every kind were brought home, and, recommended as they never failed to be by fabulous or grossly exaggerated descriptions, in the first instance only served to gratify and inflame the vulgar passion for wonders. But the attention excited to these striking novelties gradually became enlightened; a more familiar acquaintance disclosed their genuine properties, and the purposes to which they might be applied at home;—Raleigh introduced the potatoeon his Irish estates;—an acceptable however inelegant luxury was discovered in the use of tobacco; and somewhat later, the introduction of tea gradually brought sobriety and refinement into the system of modern English manners.
Many allusions to the prevailing passion for beholding foreign, or, as they were then accounted, monstrous animals, may be found scattered over the works of Shakespeare and contemporary dramatists. Trinculo says, speaking of Caliban, "Were I but in England now... and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monstermakea man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian." And again; "Do you put tricks upon's with savages and men of Inde?" &c. The whole play of the Tempest, exquisite as it is, must have derived a still more poignant relish, to the taste of that age, from the romantic ideas of desert islands then floating in the imaginations of men.
In the following year, 1592, Raleigh, weary of his Irish exile, and anxious by some splendid exploit to revive the declining favor of the queen, projected a formidable attack on the Spanish power in America, and engaged without difficulty in the enterprise a large number of volunteers. But unavoidable obstacles arose, by which the fleet was detained till the proper season for its sailing was past: Elizabeth recalled Raleigh to court; and the only fortunate result of the expedition, to the command of which MartinFrobisher succeeded, was the capture of one wealthy carrack and the destruction of another.
Raleigh, in the meantime, was amusing his involuntary idleness by an intrigue with one of her majesty's maids of honor, a daughter of the celebrated sir Nicholas Throgmorton. The queen, in the heat of her indignation at the scandal brought upon her court by the consequences of this amour, resorted, as in a thousand other cases, to a vigor beyond the laws; and though sir Walter offered immediately to make the lady the best reparation in his power, by marrying her, which he afterwards performed, Elizabeth unfeelingly published her shame to the whole world by sending both culprits to the Tower.
Sir Walter remained a prisoner during several months. Meanwhile his ships returned from their cruise, and the profits from the sale of the captured carrack were to be divided among the queen, the admiral, the sailors, and the several contributors to the outfit. Disputes arose; her majesty was dissatisfied with the share allotted her; and taking advantage of the situation into which her own despotic violence had thrown Raleigh, she appears to have compelled him to buy his liberty, and the undisturbed enjoyment of all that he held under her, by the sacrifice of no less than eighty thousand pounds due to him as admiral. Such was the disinterested purity of that zeal for morals of which Elizabeth judged it incumbent on her to make profession!
It may be curious to learn, from another incident which occurred about the same time, at what rate hermajesty caused her forgiveness of lawful matrimony to be purchased.
Robert Cary, third son of lord Hunsdon, created lord Leppington by James I. and earl of Monmouth by his successor,—from whose memoirs of himself the following particulars are derived,—was at this time a young man and an assiduous attendant on the court of his illustrious kinswoman. Being a younger son, he had no patrimony either in possession or reversion; he received from the exchequer only one hundred pounds per annum during pleasure, and by the style of life which he found it necessary to support, had incurred a debt of a thousand pounds. In this situation he married a widow possessed of five hundred pounds per annum and some ready money. His father evinced no displeasure on the occasion; but his other friends, and especially the queen, were so much offended at the match, that he took his wife to Carlisle and remained there without approaching the court till the next year. Being then obliged to visit London on business, his father suggested the expediency of his paying the queen the compliment of appearing onher day. Accordingly, he secretly prepared caparisons and a present for her majesty, at the cost of more than four hundred pounds, and presented himself in the tilt-yard in the character of "a forsaken knight who had vowed solitariness." The festival over, he made himself known to his friends in court; but the queen, though she had received his gift, would not take notice of his presence.
It happened soon after, that the king of Scots sentto Cary's elder brother, then marshal of Berwick, to beg that he would wait upon him to receive a secret message which he wanted to transmit to the queen. The marshal wrote to his father to inquire her majesty's pleasure in the matter. She did not choose that he should stir out of Berwick; but "knowing, though she would not know it," that Robert Cary was in court, she said at length to lord Hunsdon, "I hear your fine son that has married lately so worthily is hereabouts; send him if you will to know the king's pleasure." His lordship answered, that he knew he would be happy to obey her commands. "No," said she, "do you bid him go, for I have nothing to do with him." Robert Cary thought it hard to be sent off without first seeing the queen; "Sir," said he to his father, who urged his going, "if she be on such hard terms with me, I had need be wary what I do. If I go to the king without her license, it were in her power to hang me at my return, and that, for any thing I see, it were ill trusting her." Lord Hunsdon "merrily" told the queen what he said. "If the gentleman be so distrustful," she answered, "let the secretary make a safe-conduct to go and come, and I will sign it." On his return with letters from James, Robert Cary hastened to court, and entered the presence-chamber splashed and dirty as he was; but not finding the queen there, lord Hunsdon went to her to announce his son's arrival. She desired him to receive the letter, or message, and bring it to her. But the young gentleman knew the court and the queen too well to consent to give up his dispatches even to hisfather; he insisted on delivering them himself, and at length, with much difficulty gained admission.
The first encounter was, as he expresses it, "stormy and terrible," which he passed over with silence; but when the queen had "said her pleasure" of himself and his wife, he made her a courtly excuse; with which she was so well appeased, that she at length assured him all was forgiven and forgotten, and received him into her wonted favor. After this happy conclusion of an adventure so perilous to a courtier of Elizabeth, Cary returned to Carlisle; and his father's death soon occurring, he had orders to take upon himself the government of Berwick till further orders. In this situation he remained a year without salary; impairing much his small estate, and unable to obtain from court either an allowance, or leave of absence to enable him to solicit one in person. At length, necessity rendering him bold, he resolved to hazard the step of going up without permission. On his arrival, however, neither secretary Cecil nor even his own brother would venture to introduce him to the queen's presence, but advised him to hasten back before his absence should be known, for fear of her anger. At last, as he stood sorrowfully pondering on his case, a gentleman of the chamber, touched with pity, undertook to mention his arrival to her majesty in a way which should not displease her: and he opened the case by telling her, that she was more beholden to the love and service of one man than of many whom she favored more. This excited her curiosity; and on her asking who this person might be, heanswered that it was Robert Cary, who, unable longer to bear his absence from her sight, had posted up to kiss her hand and instantly return. She sent for him directly, received him with greater favor than ever, allowed him after the interview to lead her out by the hand, which seemed to his brother and the secretary nothing less than a miracle; and what was more, granted him five hundred pounds immediately, a patent of the wardenry of the east marches, and a renewal of his grant of Norham-castle. It was this able courtier, rather than grateful kinsman, who earned the good graces of king James by being the first to bring him the welcome tidings of the decease of Elizabeth.
Incidental mention has already been made of sir William Holles of Haughton in Nottinghamshire, the gentleman who refused to marry his daughter to the earl of Cumberland, because he did not choose "to stand cap in hand" to his son-in-law: this worthy knight died at a great age in the year 1590; and a few further particulars respecting him and his descendants may deserve record, on account of the strong light which they reflect on several points of manners. Sir William was distinguished, perhaps beyond any other person of the same rank in the kingdom, for boundless hospitality and a magnificent style of living. "He began his Christmas," says the historian of the family, "at Allhallowtide and continued it until Candlemas; during which any man was permitted to stay three days, without being asked whence he came or what he was." For each of the twelve days of Christmashe allowed a fat ox and other provisions in proportion. He would never dine till after one o'clock; and being asked why he preferred so unusually late an hour, he answered, that "for aught he knew there might a friend come twenty miles to dine with him, and he would be loth he should lose his labor."
At the coronation of Edward VI. he appeared with fifty followers in blue coats and badges,—then the ordinary costume of retainers and serving-men,—and he never went to the sessions at Retford, though only four miles from his own mansion, without thirty "proper fellows" at his heels. What was then rare among the greatest subjects, he kept a company of actors of his own to perform plays and masques at festival times; in summer they travelled about the country.
This sir William was succeeded in his estates by sir John Holles his grandson, who was one of the band of gentlemen pensioners to Elizabeth, and in the reign of James I. purchased the title of earl of Clare. His grandfather had engaged his hand to a kinswoman of the earl of Shrewsbury; but the young man declining to complete this contract, and taking to wife a daughter of sir Thomas Stanhope, the consequence was a long and inveterate feud between the houses of Holles and of Talbot, which was productive of several remarkable incidents. Its first effect was a duel between Orme, a servant of Holles, and Pudsey, master of horse to the earl of Shrewsbury, in which the latter was slain. The earl prosecuted Orme, and sought to take away his life; but sir John Holles in the firstinstance caused him to be conveyed away to Ireland, and afterwards obtained his pardon of the queen. For his conduct in this business he was himself challenged by Gervase Markham, champion and gallant to the countess of Shrewsbury; but he refused the duel, because the unreasonable demand of Markham, that it should take place in a park belonging to the earl his enemy, gave him just ground to apprehend that some treachery was meditated. Anxious however to wipe away the aspersions which his adversary had taken occasion to cast upon his courage, he sought a rencounter which might wear the appearance of accident; and soon after, having met Markham on the road, they immediately dismounted and attacked each other with their rapiers; Markham fell, severely wounded, and the earl of Shrewsbury lost no time in raising his servants and tenantry to the number of one hundred and twenty in order to apprehend Holles in case Markham's hurt should prove mortal. On the other side lord Sheffield, the kinsman of Holles, joined him with sixty men. "I hear, cousin," said he on his arrival, "that my lord of Shrewsbury is prepared to trouble you; but take my word, before he carry you it shall cost many a broken pate;" and he and his company remained at Haughton till the wounded man was out of danger. Markham had vowed never to eat supper or take the sacrament till he was revenged, and in consequence found himself obliged to abstain from both to the day of his death[111]. What appears the most extraordinarypart of the story is, that we do not find the queen and council interfering to put a stop to this private war, worthy of the barbarism of the feudal ages. Gervase Markham, who was the portionless younger son of a Nottinghamshire gentleman of ancient family, became the most voluminous miscellaneous writer of his age, using his pen apparently as his chief means of subsistence. He wrote on a vast variety of subjects, and both in verse and prose; but his works on farriery and husbandry appear to have been the most useful, and those on field sports the most entertaining, of his performances.