The Earl’s success at Cadiz had been widely acclaimed both in the Low Countries and in France, and in the last week of August the duc de Bouillon arrived in London for the solemn signing of the defensive league, which had been agreed in May, between the King of France and the Queen of England. He was received graciously by her Majesty and fêted at Court, while the Earl in turn gave a splendid banquet for the French guests at Essex House, costing 1,000 marks. Anthony does not seem to have been present, but as a lodger under the Earl’s roof he could hardly refuse this time to receive the duc de Bouillon in his chamber, and a meeting took place on Sunday, September 5th, before de Bouillon and his train left again for France. ‘But for my indisposition,’ Anthony assured the French emissary, ‘I would be the last to stand on the shore till the wind carried you from my sight’, words which were doubtless repeated to King Henri IV, along with some further remarks by Mr Bacon to the effect that there were others, whom he would not name, who would not express the same devotion to the duc, to the King, and to the fair country of France. He alluded, naturally, to the Cecil family.
And now, in this first week of September, Anthony found himself in some trouble with the Lord Treasurer. The whole business was brought about by his aunt Elizabeth, Lady Russell, who, like her sister Lady Bacon, liked to meddle in other people’s affairs. Not content with bullying her sons Edward and Thomas Posthumous Hoby—both had sailed in the expedition to Cadiz—she next took it upon herself to call upon her nephew at Essex House and give him what can only be termed a piece of her mind. She was now sixty-seven, a year younger than Lady Bacon, and had never really recovered from the fact that her husband, Lord John Russell, had died before succeeding to the title of Earl of Bedford. She liked to sign herself Elizabeth Russell, Dowager; and although Lord John was buried in Westminster Abbey she had erected a superb tomb to her first husband, Sir Thomas Hoby, and to his brother in the church at Bisham, where she lived, with the figure of herself in widow’s weeds kneeling beside it in prayer and, as a final gesture, wearing a coronet upon her head.
What Lady Russell thought of Anthony’s quarters at Essex House does not appear, but the conversation between them was fully documented. She arrived one September afternoon with a gentlewoman in attendance, and whether she found Anthony abed is not stated, but she must have taken him by surprise.
Lady Russell Good nephew, are you not bound to your aunt, that will make such a posting journey to see you with only one gentlewoman? First in a coach to Paris Garden, and then in a wherry over here to see you, to visit you and perform a very kind office?
Anthony Madam, your query and my obligation is very great, but not greater than the thankfulness of my heart.
Lady Russell Marry, nephew, it is that same heart that must ease my heart, which is almost choked with grief to see what you do.
Here she paused, to see what effect her words should cause, but instead of being dismayed Anthony’s spirits rose to the occasion.
Anthony Nay, good madam, go on and spare me not any mis-report you may have heard of me, or any wrongful imputation. I shall hope to ease your heart thoroughly and justify myself.
Lady Russell Well, nephew, seeing you so well armed I won’t flatter you a whit, but will tell you that all your bodily pains grieve me not so much as the alteration in your mind, which is said to be corrupted in religion, factious and busy, undutiful and unnatural; and all this I tell you from the Lord Treasurer, who protests upon his salvation he has always loved you as a fond father, and hath never as much wronged you even in thought.
So, it was as he had expected; the Lord Treasurer was behind it all, and his aunt had come post-haste from him and the Court at Nonsuch Palace.
Anthony Madam, here are very heavy propositions, and a protestation of great price. For the first, I hope their proofs will be as light.
Lady Russell Well, nephew, answer my proofs. What of your familiarity with Standen, a fugitive, and Wright, a seminary priest?
Anthony Give me leave to help you, madam. And my Lord Harry Howard, whom you should have done the honour to name first.
Lady Russell Aye, and him too.
Here they were interrupted by Anthony’s man entering the room to say that Lord Harry Howard was below in person, but on being informed that Lady Russell was with Mr Bacon had made great haste to go away. Her ladyship was not surprised.
Lady Russell The daily resort of these unto you, nephew, makes you odious. Secondly, you are too well known and beloved in Scotland to be a true Englishman, and busy yourself with matters above your reach, as foreign intelligence and entertainment of spies. You have not only abandoned the kind old nobleman your uncle, but you do him ill offices, not only with the Earl here in Essex House, but in France and Scotland by means of your acquaintance. In one word, you oppose yourself more directly than any nobleman in England durst do, how great soever.
This was too much, and Anthony interrupted her.
Anthony Madam, I do not see why an honest poor gentleman may not apprehend my Lord Treasurer’s greatness as a rich nobleman, whose estate may make courage more pliable. Je vais me servir de toutes mes pièces jusqu’au fond de mon sac; in other words, I can prove myself as clearly as daylight, that I am not guilty, neither in part nor in whole.
Her ladyship settled herself to hear her nephew defend himself as he would in a criminal court of justice. Anthony could have done with his brother Francis to act as counsel for the defence; nevertheless he embarked upon the long recital of his life since he had first left England in 1579.
Anthony The Lord Treasurer should call to mind the confidence he had in the firmness of my religious beliefs when he sent me over to France seventeen years ago, and persuaded me to meet with the traitor Parry. He assured both her Majesty and the Earl of Leicester, that Parry would never shake either my religion nor my honesty. Let him recall how I lodged with Théodore Beza, who dedicated his Meditations to my mother. Let him recall how I visited the King of Navarre and his sister the Princess Catherine in Béarn, and later in Bordeaux roused the hostility of certain Jesuits there, and found protection from the kindness of the Marshal Matignon. Then at Montauban…
It was the turn of Lady Russell to interrupt.
Lady Russell The Lord Treasurer confessed he was offended with you for falling out with du Plessis. Monsieur du Plessis complained of it at home. You also conversed with a bishop and other bad fellows, and had about you one man in particular, Lawson or Lawton, as bad and lewd a fellow as could be.
Anthony Madam, Monsieur du Plessis’ prejudice against me rose because of his wife. I censured her hair apparel and would not marry her daughter. My circumstances were so impoverished at that time I was obliged to borrow from the Bishop of Cahors. As for Mr Lawson, the Lord Treasurer kept him in durance for ten months, all through false surmises and suggestions of du Plessis and his wife… And if you wish for further good confirmation of my character I will read you a letter written some thirteen years ago by the late Secretary of State, Sir Francis Walsingham, to me in her Majesty’s name, expressing her gracious acceptance of my poor endeavours, and the assurances of her princely favour and good opinion.
Anthony handed his aunt the letter to read, and when she had finished it she turned to him again.
Lady Russell God’s body, nephew, thou art mightily wronged; for here is not only warrant but encouragement.
Anthony Yes, madam, and if I had come home to find Sir Francis alive, he would have made that good, and more too. Is it not a hard case, that an honest and loyal subject, son of so faithful a servant and true patriot, should reap no other fruits than jealousies, suspicions, and misinterpretations? I deny not, that in France I encountered many Scots gentlemen both well and ill-affected, but never sought them out until I received the warrant you have seen; since when I confess to have tilled, as industriously as I could, so barren a soil, only for her Majesty’s service, which I hope the Lord Treasurer will grace with fitter names than faction and outrecuidance, seeing such poor fruits as grew in my own ground have hitherto come free both to her Majesty and to his Lordship.
And let her carry that and more to the Lord Treasurer and see what reply she had from him.
Lady Russell By my faith, nephew, if thy tale be true, then Topnam has turned French [a contemporary catchphrase].
Anthony Ask my uncle what makes him so loath to advance his nephews, madam. And this my brother and myself have found too true, howsoever it pleases him to protest to the contrary. And his son, Mr Secretary Cecil, has sworn that he holds me for a mortal enemy, and will make me feel it when he can.
Lady Russell Vile urchin! Is it possible?
Anthony Whether it be true or not, I refer you to my mother, who marvelled that I laughed when she told me of it. Do you know the Gascon proverb Brame d’âne ne monte pas au ciel?
Lady Russell By God, nephew, your cousin Robert is no ass.
Anthony Let him go for a mule, then, madam, the most mischievous beast there is.
Thereupon his aunt rose to her feet, laughing, her temper recovered, and desired him to write everything down so that she could report back to his uncle the Lord Treasurer.
Anthony God forbid if, by such an arrogancy, I should derogate from your merit. If I had not full assurance in yourself, and your kindness toward me, I would have excused myself from ever beginning.
She insisted, however, and rather than exasperate her on parting he agreed to do so, and they embraced better friends than he had dared to hope on first sight of her. Lady Russell departed to catch her wherry back to the south bank, or, if the day was drawing in, she might well have gone for the night to her own town house at Blackfriars, about which neighbourhood she was almost as concerned as she had been about her nephew’s conduct, for to her horror it had come to her ears that a Mr Burbage had bought property there, and this with the deliberate intention of turning it into a common playhouse. There must be a petition to stop it. She was appalled to think of the noise of drums and trumpets so near to the church, disturbing the minister and people at divine service, quite apart from the type of low person who would come to the district.
Anthony, exhausted from the visit, notwithstanding did his best to commit to paper all that had transpired between them, but the letter satisfied neither his aunt nor the Lord Treasurer, as Lady Russell informed him a few days later. His uncle complained that when he had gone early to Windsor, hoping to present his nephew to her Majesty, Anthony had pleaded his sickness and returned to Twickenham. And if his nephew reproached him for not paying Mr Standen, now Sir Anthony Standen, for monies said to be due to him, this was not his business, the monies should have been paid by Sir Francis Walsingham. But the Lord Treasurer was sorry for his nephew’s sickness, and he had no recollection of having ever said—this had been repeated by Lady Russell—that Anthony’s ill health was partly his own fault for being too good a trencherman.
Well, there it was, apologies and excuses on both sides, neither relenting, and Anthony sent a detailed account of everything that had passed, in blunter, more racy, language, to the Earl of Essex, who commented, ‘I took so great pleasure in reading it, at my going to bed, I found it ran in my head all night.’
The only information missing, both in the conversation between Anthony and his aunt and in that between Lady Russell and the Lord Treasurer, and also in the long letter written to the Earl of Essex, was any allusion, even the barest hint, of those serious and very embarrassing charges which had been brought against Anthony Bacon at Montauban in the year 1586. So… nobody knew. Henri of Navarre, King Henri IV of France, had kept his word. Not a murmur from de Bouillon, nothing from du Plessis. The records lay in the files at Montauban and would remain there, unread, through centuries. The King, moreover, continued in his friendship. The message of loyalty which Anthony had sent him through de Bouillon at the end of August won a reply on October 21st.
Monsieur de Bacon,
I was very pleased to have news of you through the letters you wrote me, confirming your affection, of which my cousin the duc de Bouillon gave me such good proof, hence I wished to thank you by this letter.
Pray rest assured of my good wishes on every occasion possible, this you well know. I ask God to keep you in His Holy care.
Neither the Lord Treasurer nor Sir Robert Cecil would have been gratified to learn on what good terms their relative was with the King of France, having the edge, as it were, on their own diplomacy; nor would they have been any the better pleased with the letters he received from Scotland, or the calls to his rooms in Essex House of David Foulis, who had formerly been one of Anthony’s Scottish correspondents, and was now James VI’s ambassador to the Court of Queen Elizabeth. Particularly as Mr Foulis let it be known that his reception by certain of her Majesty’s Council had been less than warm, meaning very naturally the Cecils, father and son.
Lady Russell had spoken no more than the truth when she told Anthony that her brother-in-law found his nephew too friendly with the Scots. Anthony’s correspondence and interviews with Scottish agents and emissaries was part of a deliberate policy to ensure that King James VI should be kept well informed of all pertaining to the Earl of Essex, so that King and nobleman should be on the best possible terms. If the Cecils neglected to do the same, then their diplomacy was at fault. ‘It makes me blush,’ Anthony told Essex, ‘to see my sovereign so ill-served, and a King so absolutely scorned with dangerous and damnable insolency.’
So on once more with correspondence to and from Italy, Scotland and France. Jacques Petit, having attended upon Lord Rich in France, was presently to go to Holland with Anthony’s nephew William Woodhouse, and find life rather more to his liking than he had done in Rutland; but Lady Bacon was once again in troublesome mood, having heard that the Earl of Essex had some clandestine relationship with a lady about the Court. What was more, she had the nerve to write and tell him so. She wrote to the Earl on December 1st, having herself visited Court and heard the common gossip. ‘Some late back-sliding doth appear,’ was the hint contained in her letter, ‘and the infaming of a nobleman’s wife, so near about her Majesty. Yet she is utterly condemned as bad, unchaste, and impudent… It is a great pity she is not delivered to her husband, and the Court cleansed by sending away such an unchaste gaze and common by-word. But you, my good Lord, have heard the holy words, “This is the Will of God, that ye should be holy, and abstain from fornication”.’ And so on and on… She sent the letter to her son to deliver to the Earl, which Anthony did, though appalled at his mother’s lack of tact. The Earl took it in excellent spirit, and returned his thanks.
Madam,
That it pleased you to deal thus freely with me, in letting me know the worst you hear of me, I take it as an argument of God’s favour in sending so good an angel to admonish me. But I protest, that this charge, which is newly laid upon me, is false and unjust; and that since my departure from England towards Spain, I have been free from taxation of incontinency with any woman that lives. I never saw or spoke with the lady you mean but in public places. But I live in a place where I am hourly conspired against and practised upon… Worthy lady, think me a weak man, full of imperfections; but be assured I do endeavour to be good, and had rather mend my faults than cover them… Burn, I pray you.
This pacified her somewhat, and she wrote once more, asking God to ‘send his holy angels and pitch about your army, and with fulness of good days and years in this life, preserve you to his heavenly kingdom forever.’ Nevertheless, she took the opportunity of murmuring to her son about the cost of lodging at Essex House, to which he made reply, ‘The expense of coals I confess for four summer months are great, but consider first my sickness, then the extraordinary moistness of the season, and the situation of my lodgings, and the honourable helpers I have had to spend since my Lord’s return.’
Perhaps it was the damp so near the leads that made him request the Earl, on December 22nd, ‘that your Lordship would vouchsafe to procure me Mr Broune’s lodging’. Who Mr Broune was, and in what part of Essex House he lodged, is not revealed. It is to be hoped it was near the pump court, handy to the buttery door, so that the partridges, which his mother frequently sent him by carrier, could be drawn and hung and later roasted without giving offence to those who might be walking in the galleries above.
So for the second time Anthony spent Christmas at Essex House. Writing to Hawkins in Venice he said, ‘Altho’ it is Christmas Day, I take more contentment to speak with you, being absent, than to confer with many whom I see almost daily, and therefore instead of cards and dice, I betake myself to pen and paper.’
To the Earl, a few days previously, he had advised that, ‘I will be seeing Mr Hudson from Scotland, and his Lordship must not censure the silence of the agent Bruce nor the Scots ambassador David Foulis, for they both appreciated Mr Secretary’s ambuscades and interceptions, and will defer to write till they meet with some confident messenger, whom I expect daily. Your Lordship knows the French proverb Un chien en chaud craint fort I’eau froid; and if a public minister’s letters to a king, his master, and the king’s to him, have been laid in wait for, and opened, how much more letters betwixt private friends.’
On New Year’s Eve he was happy to acquaint his mother with the good news that ‘Brother Francis has received gracious usage and speech from her Majesty at Court, and that I hope will, at the last, exemplify her good words by some princely real effects’, and that, wonder upon wonders, his cousin Robert Cecil had declared himself ready to do ‘Anthony Bacon any kind office, if Anthony would but make proof of him’.
Time would show what 1597 would bring—whether favours and friendship from the Cecil faction or a continuance of the old reserve, more skirmishes against the might of Spain or an ill-timed, patched-up peace. Above all, would the Earl of Essex heed what brother Francis had advised him in October? ‘To stay close to the Queen, as the late Earl of Leicester and Lord Chancellor Hatton had done, to divert her Majesty’s mind from the impression the Earl gave of martial greatness, for she loved peace, and loved not the charge of war; to take care in his personal habits, what he wore, his gestures and the like; to speak against popularity and popular courses, this should be handled tenderly; to be careful of his estate; and lastly, to be plain, to have the altering of some of his officers about him, though this could not be done but with time.’ Wise counsel, and how closely brother Francis had observed his subject; and yet… he would never be as close to the moody, volatile commander as was Anthony himself, who loved and questioned not.