1601.

heard very patiently this speech, in which she was c HA P. flattered in phrases appropriated to the Supreme XLIV. Being; and she returned an answer full of such expressions of tenderness towards her people, as ought to have appeared fulsome after the late instances of rigour which she had employed, and from which nothing but necessity had made her depart. Thus was this critical affair happily terminated; and Elizabeth, by prudently receding, in time, from part of her prerogative, maintained her dignity and preserved the affections of her people.

THE Commons granted her a supply quite unprecedented, of four subsidies and eight fifteenths; and they were so dutiful as to vote this supply before they received any satisfaction in the business of monopolies, which they justly considered as of the utmost importance to the interest and happiness of the nation. Had they attempted to extort that concession by keeping the supply in suspense; so haughty was the queen's disposition, that this appearance of constraint and jealousy had been sufficient to have produced a denial of all their requests, and to have forced her into some acts of authority still more violent and arbitrary.

THE remaining events of this reign are neither numerous nor important. The queen, finding that the Spaniards had involved her in so much trouble by fomenting and assisting the Irish rebellion, resolved to give them employment at home; and she fitted out a squadron of nine ships, under sir Richard Levison, admiral, and sir William Monson, vice-admiral, whom she sent on an expedition to the coast of Spain. The admiral, with part of the squadron, met the galleons loaded with treasure ; but was not strong enough to attack them. The vice-admiral also fell in with some rich ships; but they escaped for a like reason: And these two brave officers, that their expedition might not prove entirely

1602,

1602.

CHA P. entirely fruitless, resolved to attack the harbour of XLIV. Cerimba in Portugal, where they received intelligence, a very rich carrack had taken shelter. The harbour was guarded by a castle: There were eleven gallies stationed in it: And the militia of the country, to the number, as was believed, of twenty thousand men, appeared in arms on the shore: Yet, notwithstanding these obstacles, and others derived from the winds and tides, the English squadron broke into the harbour, dismounted the guns of the castle, sunk or burnt, or put to flight, the gallies, and obliged the carrack to surrender." They brought her home to England, and she was valued at a million of ducats: A sensible loss to the Spaniards; and a supply still more important to Elizabeth.*

1603.

THE affairs of Ireland, after the defeat of Tyrone, and the expulsion of the Spaniards, hastened to a settlement. Lord Mountjoy divided his army into small parties, and harassed the rebels on every side. He built Charlemont, and many other small forts, which were impregnable to the Irish, and guarded all the important passes of the country: The activity of sir Henry Dowcray, and sir Arthur Chichester permitted no repose or security to the rebels: And many of the chieftains, after skulking, during some time, in woods and morasses, submitted to mercy, and received such conditions as the deputy was pleased to impose upon them. Tyrone himself made application by Arthur Mac-Baron, his brother, to be received upon terms; but Mountjoy would not admit him except he made an

absolute

i Camden, p. 647.

h Monson, p. 181. *This year the Spaniards began the siege of Ostend, which was bravely defended for five months by sir Francis Vere. The States then relieved him, by sending a new governor; and on the whole the siege lasted three years, and is computed to have cost the lives of a hundred thousand men.

submission.

absolute surrender of his life and fortunes to the CHA P. XLIV. queen's mercy. He appeared before the deputy at Millefont, in a habit and posture suitable to his 1603. present fortune; and, after acknowledging his of- Tyrone's fence in the most humble terms, he was committed to custody by Mountjoy, who intended to bring him over captive into England, to be disposed of at the queen's pleasure.

BUT Elizabeth was now incapable of receiving Queen's any satisfaction from this fortunate event: She had sickness, fallen into a profound melancholy; which all the advantages of her high fortune, all the glories of her prosperous reign, were unable in any degree to alleviate or assuage. Some ascribed this depression of mind to her repentance of granting a pardon to Tyrone, whom she had always resolved to bring to condign punishment for his treasons, but who had made such interest with the ministers, as to extort a remission from her. Others, with more likelihood, accounted for her dejection by a discovery which she had made of the correspondence maintained in her court with her successor the king of Scots, and by the neglect to which, on account of her old and infirmities, she imagined herself to be exposed. But there is another cause assigned for her melancholy, which has long been rejected by historians as romantic, but which late discoveries seem to have confirmed: Some incidents happened which revived her tenderness for Essex, and filled her with the deepest sorrow for the consent which she had unwarily given to his execution.

age

THE earl of Essex, after his return from the fortunate expedition against Cadiz, observing the increase of the queen's fond attachment towards him, took occasion to regret, that the necessity of her service required him often to be absent from her person,

1

See the proofs of this remarkable fact collected in Birch's Negotiations, p. 206. And Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 481. 505, 506, &c.

XLIV.

1603.

CHAP. person, and exposed him to all those ill offices, which his enemies, more assiduous in their attendance, could employ against him. She was moved with this tender jealousy ; and, making him the present of a ring, desired hin. to keep that pledge of her affection, and assured him, that into whatever disgrace he should fall, whatever prejudices she might be induced to entertain against him, yet, if he sent her that ring, she would immediately upon the sight of it recal her former tenderness, would afford him a patient hearing, and would lend a favourable ear to his apology. Essex, notwithstanding all his misfortunes, reserved this precious gift to the last extremity; but after his trial and condemnation, he resolved to try the experiment, and he committed the ring to the countess of Nottingham, whom he desired to deliver it to the queen. The countess was prevailed on by her husband, the mortal enemy of Essex, not to execute the commission; and Elizabeth, who still expected that her favourite would make this last appeal to her tenderness, and who ascribed the neglect of it to his invincible obstinacy, was, after much delay and many internal combats, pushed by resentment and policy to sign the warrant for his execution. The countess of Nottingham falling into sickness, and affected with the near approach of death, was seized with remorse for her conduct; and, having obtained a visit from the queen, she craved her pardon, and revealed to her the fatal secret. The queen astonished with this incident, burst into a furious passion: She shook the dying countess in her bed; and crying to her, That God might pardon her, but she never could, she broke from her, and thenceforth resigned herself over to the deepest and most incurable melancholy. She rejected all consolation: She even refused food and sustenance: And, throwing herself on the floor, she remained sullen and immoveable, feeding her thoughts on her afflictions, and declaring life

and

1

XLIV.

1603.

and existence an insufferable burthen to her. Few CHA P. words she uttered; and they were all expressive of some inward grief which she cared not to reveal: But sighs and groans were the chief vent which she gave to her despondency, and which, though they discovered her sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them. Ten days and nights she lay upon the carpet, leaning on cushions which her maids brought her; and her physicians could not persuade her to allow herself to be put to bed, much less to make trial of any remedies which they prescribed to her. Her anxious mind at last had so long preyed on her frail body, that her end was visibly approaching; and the council, being assembled, sent the keeper, admiral, and secretary, to know her will with regard to her successor. She answered

with a faint voice, that as she had held a regal sceptre, she desired no other than a royal successor. Cecil requesting her to explain herself more particularly, she subjoined, that she would have a king to succeed her; and who should that be, but her nearest kinsman, the king of Scots? Being then advised by the archbishop of Canterbury to fix her thoughts upon God, she replied, that she did so, nor did her mind in the least wander from him. Her voice soon after left her; her senses failed; she 24th Mar. fell into a lethargic slumber, which continued some hours; and she expired gently, without farther struggle or convulsion, in the seventieth year of her age, and forty-fifth of her reign.

and death.

So dark a cloud overcast the evening of that day, and cha which had shone out with a mighty lustre in the racter. eyes of all Europe. There are few great personages in history who have been more exposed to the calumny of enemies, and the adulation of friends, than queen Elizabeth; and yet there is scarcely any whose reputation has been more certainly determined